Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Golden Dragon was the finest and most exclusive restaurant in Musutafu. Reservations were made months in advance with no exception…save one. One patron had visited the restaurant nearly every Friday since the grand opening—sometimes alone and sometimes with guests—and there was a quiet back room reserved for him in perpetuity. One dismal Friday the youngest server, Midoriya Hisashi, met this patron for the first time.

“Midoriya! Get a move on!”

Hisashi flinched at the slightly frantic note in his coworker’s voice. Half of the staff was out sick with some bug that had swept through in the last few days, and the new guy was barely trained as a busboy, let alone a server. Hisashi forced a smile and swept through the kitchen doors with his 100th serving tray of the night. It wasn’t all bad though. The overtime pay was nice, and he was finally meeting the mysterious patron who liked to give massive tips.

Shigaraki and his companion apparently didn’t appreciate deviations from routine, and Hisashi profusely apologized for their usual server being indisposed. The suited men still seemed a bit disgruntled when he’d delivered their wine. He sighed, hoping to make a better impression when he delivered their meals.

He eagerly distributed his current tray to a waiting party of five, making note of which drinks he needed to refill. Then he was off again. He went into autopilot as he worked, and his mind drifted to the hiking trip he had planned for tomorrow. It was almost September now. With any luck he could find a few early matsutake to collect and sell. The earliest ones of the season always sold at a premium. The overtime and extra tips this week were helping, but he still had a long way to go before he could afford culinary school.

He ran a mental tally of what other edible mushrooms might be in season this time of the year as he delivered yet another tray. Then he ran through their toxic look-alikes. Mushroom poisoning was a serious problem and could be fatal depending on the mistake. He’d always been very careful when collecting, but a review never hurt.

“Hey, kid,” The newest hire waved him over from the door to the kitchen.

Hisashi grumbled at being called a kid. He was 18 for crying out loud. He excused himself from his current table and headed back to the kitchen, hoping they didn’t need his skinny self to squeeze under the stove to fetch another dropped spatula.

The busboy pointed to a tray with two covered dishes on it. “Boss got that special order ready. Wants it delivered asap.”

Hisashi swept the mushrooms from his mind and focused on appearing even more professional than he usually did. He briskly walked the dinners to the private dining room and set them before the two men.

“Your meals, gentlemen,” He said, lifting the lids away from their plates and bowing as he took a step back. He nested the lids and picked up his tray holder, tucking it over one arm. He glanced back at the customers to make sure everything was in order and paused. There was something wrong with Shigaraki’s sukiyaki. The mushrooms didn’t look fully cooked, and the shape was odd. Hisashi squinted at the dish trying to place what exactly was wrong. When Shigaraki picked up a small, almost intact cap with his chopsticks, Hisashi finally placed it. A destroying angel. That was one of the most toxic mushrooms in his field guide. His eyes shot wide and he lunged forward to swat the chopsticks from the businessman’s hand.

Shigaraki blinked for a moment, stunned. His companion moved. Hisashi was slammed up against the wall before he even registered the white-haired man standing. “It seems someone has a death wish,” The man said, glancing over his shoulder. Shigaraki rubbed his eyes, posture somewhere between tired and disappointed.

Hisashi struggled against the hand at his throat. “Don’t eat it,” He choked out. “Poisoned.”

Shigaraki narrowed his eyes and turned in his chair to face Hisashi and his guest. “Nine, don’t choke the boy before he explains himself.”

Nine slightly loosened his grip, but drilled Hisashi with his storm-grey eyes.

Hisashi heeded the silent warning and spoke. “The mushrooms are wrong. Those aren’t field mushrooms; they’re destroying angels. Very, very toxic.”

Shigaraki turned to look back at his dish, turning one of the caps over with his retrieved chopsticks. He hummed. “I thought these looked undercooked. Chef Ito usually holds himself to such a high standard.”

Hisashi blinked, wondering briefly when the man had picked up the utensils.

A light knock on the door preceded a man in a tuxedo entering. One of the other servers heard the commotion and called the owner. “Is everything alright?” he asked, taking in the scene.

“No, Araki. It seems someone at your fine establishment tried to poison me. This young man caught it.”

Araki was appropriately horrified at the accusation. He shot Hisashi a withering look before saying, “I’m certain there’s been a simple mistake. Allow me to fetch Ito.”

“Nope, those are definitely not the mushrooms I cooked,” Chef Ito said, picking up one of the caps in question. “Not sure what species, but they’re definitely not something I’d eat.”

Shigaraki gave Nine a slight nod. Nine’s grip on Hisashi’s throat finally dropped as the bodyguard(?) stepped to the doorway to scan the seating area. Then the businessman turned a deathly calm gaze on the chef and owner. “If you didn’t cook these, then who, pray tell, tried to poison me?”

The chef froze for a moment, before red began creeping up his neck. His expression morphed into a scowl. “I have a guess…” He stormed out of the room.

Nine exited with the chef, but only the chef returned. “Blast that new hire! I knew there was something off about him. He’s gone.”

Hisashi missed the next few minutes as things finally sank in. Someone had poisoned a dish that he delivered. If he hadn’t caught it, Shigaraki would be a dead man walking, and he likely would have taken the blame. He distantly heard someone telling him to stay put. The police were on their way and needed to take statements. Hisashi sank against the wall to sit on the floor. He didn’t notice the eyes on him until an imposing pair of feet stopped in front of him. Shigaraki looked even larger standing up.

“Young man, what is your name?”

Hisashi tuned back in and looked up at the customer. “Midoriya Hisashi.”

“Well, Midoriya, I am in your debt.” The man inclined his head in a short bow. “Thank you for intervening. Though I am curious how you recognized the danger.”

“Ah,” Hisashi smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Mushrooms are a hobby of mine. Matsutake will be growing soon, and they fetch a good price if you can find them.”

Shigaraki hummed appreciatively. “Native matsutake are quite good.”

“Yeah. Someday I want to cook with them.”

“Oh, a budding chef?”

“Not for a long while yet,” Hisashi said, dropping his gaze to the carpet. “Culinary school is expensive.”

“Are you looking at one of the local schools?”

“I looked at a few in Tokyo, but local’s probably going to be my best bet. Coruscant has a good program.”

“Coruscant I am familiar with.” A pen clicked, and Hisashi looked up to see Shigaraki writing on the back of a business card. After a moment he returned the pen to a pocket inside his suit jacket and handed the card to Hisashi.

The front of the card bore a globe insignia and the name Naboo Biomedical Inc. Flipping the card over revealed a phone number and name in tight, neat characters. He glanced up at Shigaraki with a silent question.

“Call this number and tell him I referred you. He’s in charge of one of the scholarship programs.”

Hisashi hurried to his feet and bowed deeply. “Thank you, Shigaraki-sama. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

Shigaraki chuckled and turned toward the door where a police officer had finally arrived and was speaking to Araki. “It’s the least I can do.”

---

The next week flew by in a flurry of police interviews, phone calls, and work, and Friday night found Hisashi returning to a familiar back room at The Golden Dragon. Shigaraki was alone this time, and he was pleased to see him. “Any luck with those matsutake?” he greeted.

“With all the excitement I haven’t gotten a chance to go hiking yet, Shigaraki-sama. I did check out that scholarship program though. They want to give me a full ride to start in the spring. Thank you so much.” Hisashi bowed again.

Shigaraki grinned. “A dream is a horrible thing to waste. I trust you’ll do well there.” Picking up his menu he shifted topics, “Now, I never did satisfy my sukiyaki craving. Think you can make sure no one uses the wrong mushrooms this time?”

“Of course.”

The next weeks followed much the same pattern, and Hisashi found himself requested at Shigaraki’s table every Friday night. Some nights Shigaraki invited conversation while he ate. Topics ranged anywhere from seasonal produce to politics to quirks—and Hisashi’s lack of one. Over the weeks a side effect of Shigaraki’s favor surfaced. The restaurant owner began trusting him with more duties, including closing up at night. He gladly accepted the honor, not realizing it was a two-edged thing. While he had a higher standing, he also was the last to leave each night.

It was quiet when he finally locked the back door, the streets empty. Musutafu was asleep. He dutifully walked the last bag of trash to the dumpster in the alley, cursing the space’s solitary light bulb for burning out. He heaved the bag into the dumpster and took a step back.

Pain burst stars across his vision, and it took him far too many seconds to connect the dots. Someone hit him in the head. He staggered sideways to lean against the rough brick of the restaurant’s exterior. He blinked frantically, trying to clear the black spots dancing before his eyes. Another blow folded him in half clutching his stomach. And there was a hand crushing his windpipe again. He was really starting to hate being choked.

Hisashi clawed at the arm pinning him to the wall, still struggling to see. Another punch to his face and he could barely struggle.

A snarling face slowly came into focus. The fake server. “Do you have any idea how difficult it was to get ahold of fresh destroying angel? How hard it was to track that man down and find an opening? He wouldn’t have known he was poisoned until it was too late, and you ruined everything! Well, crossing me is the last mistake you’ll ever make.” The hand on his throat was joined by a second, cutting off the last of Hisashi’s air.

Neither of the pair noticed the storm gathering and swirling overhead until lightning started crackling between the coalescing clouds. Even then Hisashi and the assassin ignored the atavistic impulse to move, too focused on each other. A bolt of lightning sliced through the air of the alley, hitting a few feet beyond the dumpster to blind them. Trash bags exploded, contents burning as they scattered. The assassin jumped away from the explosion, letting Hisashi collapse onto the pavement, forgotten. At last listening to that sense of danger in the air, the assassin turned to run for the end of the alley not currently on fire.

Hisashi struggled to get his arms under him where he’d fallen. He needed to get up. He could barely breathe. It felt like he was still being choked. And now there was fire. A second lightning bolt crashed down mere feet away, this time at the other end of the alley. The world wouldn’t stop rocking beneath him, and he collapsed again.

Black boots stopped in front of his face, and a figure in black and blue body armor crouched beside him. A single shove rolled Hisashi onto his back. He wheezed at the sudden pain and blinked back tears. Through his swimming vision he saw a familiar pair of grey eyes over a black and purple mask. The man’s eyes matched the storm clouds rapidly dissipating overhead. Hisashi’s eyes drifted closed as gloved hands lifted him.

When next he woke, Hisashi found himself attached to enough medical equipment to outfit an ER suite. The paneled walls, chandelier, floor to ceiling windows, and queen bed didn’t belong to a hospital room though. With fuzzy senses he blinked and looked around the room, stopping when he found a man in a doctor’s white coat studying one of the machines next to him.

The man noticed him looking and quirked a smile under his thick mustache. “Ah, still in the land of the living, I see. Rest a bit longer; I can’t take your tube out until the swelling goes down more.” The man fiddled with one of the IV bags feeding into a catheter in his arm, and the world faded to black again.

The light in the room shifted and drew Hisashi back to wakefulness. He was still groggy, not quite present, but he could feel a distant echo of pain this time. His throat—both inside and out—and chest twinged in time with his breathing, and his head and stomach didn’t feel quite right either. There was a hint of movement on the edge of his vision, and he slowly rolled his head to the side. A familiar face observed him from the chair beside his bed. “Shi—”

“You shouldn’t try to speak after being strangled,” Shigaraki scolded.

Hisashi gave up, feeling exhausted after the small effort. He’d been strangled?

“Midoriya, do you remember what happened?” The man asked.

Hisashi managed a minute shake of his head.

Shigaraki sighed. “You were attacked by the assassin who tried to poison me a few months ago. Nine interrupted him before he could kill you. Police are still looking for him.”

Hisashi huffed out a tired laugh. “Thought Nine didn’t like me…”

Shigaraki glared at him for a moment before continuing, “He doesn’t, but I do. You saved my life at the risk of your own. Do you know what an assassin does, Midoriya?”

He shook his head.

“An assassin kills in exchange for payment. Someone hired that man to kill me, and they will likely hire another. The fact the assassin went after you means they know you interfered.”

Hisashi’s eyes slowly widened as his drugged mind pieced together what Shigaraki meant.

“They may target you again.”

“Why’d someone want you dead so bad?” Hisashi croaked. His heart monitor beeped faster by the moment. He barely survived this encounter. How was he supposed to deal with another? Aside from a few fist fights as a kid, he had no experience and no quirk to use defensively.

“Do you always mutter when you’re worried?” Shigaraki chuckled and rested a hand on his head.

For the first time Hisashi realized his head was heavily bandaged. His thoughts stalled out at the amused look in Shigaraki’s eyes. “Must be the meds,” he muttered. He glanced across the room when he heard the clack of computer keys. The doctor was silently alternating between typing and watching him. He must have come back in when the heart monitor went crazy.

Shigaraki hummed. “As for your question…can you keep a secret?” Once Hisashi nodded, Shigaraki continued, “I can give and take quirks. Much of the criminal underworld speaks my name with reverent whispers and fearful glances. My very existence makes a lot of powerful people uncomfortable. And the fact I am too well-positioned to be bought makes them even more so. This isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with assassins, but it is the first in a long time that someone else has gotten caught up in the affair. I do apologize for that.”

Shigaraki met Hisashi’s eyes after apologizing. “Nine was tracking the assassin and found you before it was too late. He may not next time. But you don’t have to be defenseless.” The hand left Hisashi’s head to hover in front of his eyes. The callused palm began to glow black and red. “Let me give you a means to fight back,” he urged.

Hisashi stared at the fluctuating red and black. Shigaraki’s quirk let him take quirks from people…and give them to others. Hisashi hesitantly nodded.

The glowing hand moved to hover beside his face. “This may hurt a little, but it won’t last long,” Shigaraki assured him. His hand pressed against the side of his face under the edge of his bandages.

The dull ache in Hisashi’s throat flared to agonizing life. He screamed at the pain, and flames escaped his mouth. His next shallow inhale was largely smoke, and he coughed out another puff of flame.

After a few moments the hand left his face and pressed a button into Hisashi’s palm. “For the pain,” he distantly heard. Thank quirks for the invention of the morphine drip. Hisashi pressed the button a few times until breathing became bearable. His senses were muddy once more, but he’d take that over the burning pain.

The doctor and Shigaraki talked while he struggled to catch his breath. “Yes, everything’s been updated. His new quirk is registered as one of the rare cases of delayed quirk development. No one should question it. After all, trauma has been known to be a trigger for decades.”

Chapter Text

--Four years later--

Hisashi adjusted his pristine apron and chef’s hat and surveyed the private kitchen. He savored all the space to work, knowing that it would be a rare commodity once he started at his new job. He took a deep breath and set to work preparing two dishes: matsutake gohan and tonkatsu with curry. He smiled as he moved the pork cutlet in the frying pan. With a practiced flick, he flipped it into the air and breathed flame over it on its way down, catching it again in the pan. He repeated the process a few more times and prepared three plates on a silver tray.

He lifted the tray and used his back to push the door to the lavish dining room open. His smile fell marginally when he noted only two faces where there should be three. “Where’s Nine?” he asked as he gave the doctor—Daruma—and Shigaraki their plates.

“He won’t be joining us,” Shigaraki responded curtly. “Do have a seat, Midoriya, and eat. Why let your hard work go to waste?”

“I mean, if you insist.” Hisashi untied his apron and removed it and his hat before joining them at one end of the large table. He hesitated to eat until the other two had a few bites, fidgeting with the edge of his napkin. “How is it?”

“Excellent!” Shigaraki commented. “A dish befitting a true chef.”

Hisashi beamed. “Consider this a thank you for pointing me to that scholarship. I wouldn’t have enough saved up yet to start, let alone graduate, without you.”

“How many times are you going to thank me for that?” Shigaraki asked with a smile. He chuckled before taking another bite.

Hisashi blushed and struggled for an answer.

Daruma saved him by asking, “When is your occupational quirk exam again? Is that this week or next?”

Hisashi sent the man a grateful look. “Ah, that’s on Monday. I’m just glad I don’t have to take the hero license exam,” Hisashi said, shaking his head. With his occupational quirk license, he’d be allowed to use his quirk in a limited public setting—a.k.a. his new head chef job—without also being registered as a hero. Despite having taken self-defense classes the last three and a half years and training with his quirk, he had no desire to do hero work. He was thoroughly sick of fighting villains after the few run-ins during his college courses. The only thing he wanted to roast with his fire breath was food.

Shigaraki and Daruma had been great helps in getting a handle on his quirk, and he didn’t blame his friends for the villain encounters. Though he did wish they weren’t such a presence in the criminal underworld, he supposed even villains deserved medical care.

A half hour later, Hisashi glanced at his phone before rising to collect their plates, uncharacteristically sheepish. “It’s been great seeing you both again, but I have to get going.”

“And where are you off to?” Daruma asked, smirking. “Got a hot date?”

Hisashi’s face turned scarlet as he stammered, “M-my girlfriend and I are g-going out to celebrate my graduation…” He hastily retreated from the dining room and his friends’ knowing looks.

--Four years later--

On Hisashi and Inko’s second wedding anniversary, they discovered Inko’s pregnancy. In July of the next year, little Izuku was born with his mother’s eyes and his father’s smile. Daruma—now under the alias of Tsubasa—delivered him and became their family doctor. Izuku and Inko were healthy, and Hisashi was ready to sleep for a week.

Shigaraki found him half passed out in a waiting room chair. “Hisashi?”

Hisashi startled back to wakefulness with a small puff of fire escaping his lips. He saw Shigaraki and relaxed, rubbing his eyes. “Hey…It’s a boy,” he said with a faint smile. “Named him Izuku.”

“It’s a good name,” Shigaraki said, sitting in the chair next to him. “Rough night?”

Hisashi groaned. “I didn’t realize labor could last 12 hours…”

Shigaraki chuckled. They sat there in companionable silence for a few minutes before Shigaraki shifted and pulled an envelope from inside his blazer. He handed it to Hisashi, silently waking him up again.

Hisashi blinked a few times and stared at the envelope. His confusion only grew when he peeked at the contents. He hurriedly closed it again when he saw the large stack of 10,000 yen notes inside, turning a wide-eyed gaze on his friend. He was very much awake now.

Shigaraki scanned the lobby without moving and said in a voice barely above a whisper, “The Meta Liberation Army is moving.”

Hisashi tensed next to him, eyes darting about the lobby too. They were alone, but after the last villain that jumped him—a self-proclaimed member of the group—he was a bit paranoid.

“I have eyes on the group, but I thought with recent…developments you might want a way out before things start again. I’ve recently been expanding business into America, and I have a contact in Los Angeles that knows a prestigious Japanese restaurant in need of a chef. The phone number is in the envelope. I’d suggest leaving within the month, provided Inko and Izuku are discharged and doing well. The sooner the better,” Shigaraki urged.

Hisashi stared blankly down at the envelope in his hand. It suddenly carried far more weight than a stack of bills. He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. He was used to life throwing him curveballs, to rolling with the punches and throwing a few of his own if he had an opening, but he hadn’t dealt with an attack in three years. Inko didn’t even know about the one the week before he proposed. She’d lived her whole life here. Her family was here, and her mother’s health hadn’t been the best lately. A sinking feeling twisted his gut. “Sensei, how am I going to tell Inko?”

The weight of Shigaraki’s large hand on his shoulder was a familiar comfort.

Hisashi waited to tell her until they were home from the hospital, explained how he might be targeted for the friends he kept. Inko didn’t take it well. She refused to be chased from her home, from her family. Hisashi decided that even though he didn’t want to be a hero, he could be a hero to his wife and son. He left them most of Shigaraki’s money and flew to California, hoping it would be enough to protect them.

--Four years later--

It seemed to have worked. Inko and Izuku were alive. He sent most of his paychecks home to them, and he video-called them when he could, time difference be damned. Little Izuku had grown so much, gaining his mother’s hair color and his father’s curls, his mother’s wide-eyed wonder and his father’s knack for getting into mischief. They weren’t quite sure who he got his obsession with All Might from.

However, their happiness was marred by a diagnosis Hisashi had feared for years. Izuku took after his father. Tsubasa told Inko there was a small possibility of it being a delayed quirk but cautioned her against holding out hope. After Inko sent Izuku to bed that night, Hisashi comforted her over the call, wishing he could be there in person to hold her as she sobbed.

Their son wanted to be a hero.

--Four years later--

It didn’t work. Or maybe it did, and they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Either way, Hisashi got the call no husband or father ever wanted to get. There was a villain attack, and his family had been caught in it. Inko hadn’t even lived to make it to the hospital. Izuku was alone in Japan.

Hisashi booked the first flight out and dialed a phone number he hadn’t used in nearly eight years.

Shigaraki picked up Izuku and watched over him until Hisashi arrived a severely jetlagged and nervous wreck 2 days later. Izuku was relatively unharmed, as Inko had shielded him with her body. But there were a few worrying bruises and burns, all too old to have come from the attack. The way his son had grown quieter and less talkative the last few years suddenly made sense.

Hisashi excused himself to step outside and let off a bit of steam before he burned something. He had been quirkless once too. He understood the discrimination and bullying that accompanied it. He’d hoped the chance of a delayed quirk would spare his son that pain, he’d been wrong, and he’d do something about it now.

He lingered in Japan only as long as it took to sort out their estate and all the legal proceedings a murder investigation entailed. He and Izuku stayed at the Shigaraki estate during that time. Hisashi was stunned to learn his friend had a son now too, an adopted boy named Tomura. He had a dangerous quirk he was struggling to learn control of. Shigaraki had even hired someone the boy couldn’t accidentally harm to oversee his care, Kurogiri, a man made entirely of black mist.

Hisashi gave the troubled youth a respectable berth, but Izuku knew no fear. Much to Hisashi and Shigaraki’s bafflement Izuku and Tomura were fast friends before the end of his first day there. The two were often found playing video games together thereafter, Kurogiri keeping a watchful eye on them.

After a week and a half, the police were satisfied, and all the Midoriya family’s possessions were either shipped to California or sold. The funeral was a quiet affair, and Hisashi recognized almost no one.

“I am so sorry,” Shigaraki told him as the last of the guests filed out. Hisashi gave him a tired smile. He’d never heard his friend sound grieved before.

He signed Izuku up to start self-defense and ESL programs the next week, and they left Japan and its painful memories behind for good. Or so he thought.

--Four years later--

Izuku grew in leaps and bounds, both physically and in confidence. The bullying still existed in America, but so did aikido and MMA. Izuku gave as good as he got now, usually pinning a solo opponent with minimal injury. Most of the punks at his school learned not to mess with him, and the teachers and principal learned not to mess with his fire-breathing and semi-famous father.

Izuku never gave up his dream of being a hero. His mother’s death and his father’s encouragement only seemed to make that desire stronger. He had his heart set on UA back in Japan, and he still believed he had a delayed quirk.

Hisashi grew anxious at the thought of his son in a high school for heroes. He knew from experience what sort of people his son would face if he walked the hero’s road. But he couldn’t bring himself to deny his son the chance to chase his dream.

So, he started planning. With middle school enrollment starting soon, he knew time was running out. If they wanted to pay tuition as Japanese residents rather than foreigners when it came time for high school, they’d need to move back. He started looking at restaurants and culinary schools around Musutafu.

--One year later--

Musutafu looked the same as when they’d left five years before. They settled into a small apartment in the Tatooin District close to the middle school Izuku would start attending in a week. Izuku unpacked the ten boxes of All Might merchandise in his
bedroom—Hisashi couldn’t believe he was still so obsessed with the hero—while his father worked on their kitchen.

Once certain his son was distracted, Hisashi made a call. The number was disconnected. He stared at the phone in confusion, doublechecking the number he entered. Yeah, that was Shigaraki’s number. Maybe he got a new phone. He called Kurogiri next, and he answered.

Chapter Text

Hisashi arranged to meet Shigaraki later that week, while Izuku took the opportunity to relearn the area and the route to school. Hisashi checked the new address Kurogiri had given him as he walked along a cracked and slightly overgrown sidewalk in the neighboring city of Kamino. This was…not as nice of a neighborhood as the mansion had been in.

Hisashi frowned as he walked up to the dilapidated apartment building bearing the number he’d been given. The structure was the last in a row of similar buildings before equally shabby warehouses took over the street. The whole block looked abandoned and in shambles.

He hesitantly knocked on the front door with its chipped and peeling paint. After a brief wait, a familiar, misty man opened the door.

The building’s interior was little better than its exterior, Hisashi noted with mounting worry. “Kurogiri, what happened while I was gone?” He asked quietly. “Did the MLA destroy the mansion? Are Young Shigaraki and Daruma okay?”

“Everyone is alive, I assure you. As for the rest, it would be better coming from Sensei. He’s this way.” Kurogiri led him toward a back room, past a trash can filled with too many takeout containers for Hisashi’s liking.

At the end of the hall waited the only immaculate room in the place. It was filled with medical equipment surrounding a large chair. “Sensei…” Hisashi whispered, covering his mouth with a hand. With wide eyes, he took in his old benefactor and friend. He looked barely alive with all the tubes and lines attached to his scarred form. And his face…

He moved before his mind could catch up, and he fell to his knees beside the chair. “Sensei, what happened?”

The mutilated man removed the respirator from his lower face to say, “Midoriya, it’s good to see you again.” He moved a large hand to rest among his friend’s unruly black curls. “And yes, I can still see…in a sense. The variety of quirks in the world is truly astounding.”

A wet laugh escaped Hisashi, and he gave the man a crooked grin. “If I’d known you were in trouble, I’d have come back. Who?”

“A villain attack that All Might got involved in. I should have been better prepared for that level of destructive power,” Sensei mused bitterly. “But I am alive yet. The good doctor and I cannot be bested so easily.” Turning his eyeless face toward Hisashi, he asked, “Now what brings you back to Japan? I was under the impression you never intended to return.”

“Hehe…Izuku.” He sighed, looking down. “After everything, he still wants to be a hero, regardless of whether his quirk has come in or not. And there’s only one place he wants to go.”

His mentor’s hand twitched where it rested on Hisashi’s head. “UA.”

Hisashi nodded. “I’ve convinced him to apply to a few other places, but yeah. He wants to go there.”

“Hm…”

“I think he’s missed Tomura too.”

Sensei grinned at that. “Tomura has declared him the only suitable opponent in one of his online games. The name of it escapes me now.”

Hisashi laughed. “Yeah, Izuku was always excited for the weekends. It was the only time he could stay up late enough to play with him.”

“So, about Izuku,” Sensei prodded. “You came to me for…?”

Hisashi flushed and looked down again. Shigaraki was hurt badly. He couldn’t ask now. It wasn’t right. “Noth—”

“I am out of fire-based quirks at the moment. What was his mother’s?”

Hisashi blinked up at him. “A very minor telekinesis. Sensei, if this will impact your health at all, I’m sure he can get into the General course without a quirk and try to transfer in.”

“Do not worry about me. Nothing I would give the boy would negatively impact me.” Sensei frowned. “However, I don’t have any quirks like his mother’s either.” After some thought, he asked, “Is he still as sharp as he was 5 years ago?”

“Even more so now. You should see him write an essay or get going on quirk theory,” Hisashi chuckled. “That’s another thing. You might want to give him something subtle. He’s been trying to figure his quirk out for years.”

“When does he start school?”

“Monday. Why?”

“The weekend should be plenty of time for him to recover and adjust. I think I have the perfect quirk for him.”

---

“Izuku! I’m home!”

Izuku greeted his dad and saw his clothes were covered in dust and grit. “What happened to you?”

“You remember the Shigarakis?”

Izuku shot him a disbelieving look. “Dad, I play Quest Conqueror with Tomura every weekend. Of course, I remember him and his dad.”

Hisashi grinned teasingly. “Just making sure. I went to visit Sensei today and helped clean up his apartment.”

Izuku frowned. “Apartment? I thought he lived in a mansion.”

“Well,” Hisashi paused to sigh. “He doesn’t anymore. He was badly injured in a villain attack a few years ago. All Might was involved in taking the villain down, and there was a lot of collateral damage.”

Izuku expression morphed from shock to concern. “Is he alright?”

“He’s…pretty rough, but his doctor does good work. Just try not to stare or bring up All Might while we’re there. He kinda blames the guy for what happened, and Tomura’s picked up the habit too.”

“Why would they blame—wait! While we’re there?” The smallest hint of a smile crept onto his face.

Hisashi returned the look. “Yep. We’re going over for dinner.”

“Yes!”

“Nuhuh, not so fast. We may not have found a place for you to continue aikido yet, but that doesn’t mean you’re missing practice. Come on; get changed. We’ll spar for a bit, shower, then head to the market.”

Izuku vanished to his room to change into sparring clothes, and Hisashi followed suit.

Three hours later found them walking up to the same decrepit apartment building. “Now, Izuku, this isn’t the best neighborhood. Sensei wanted me to warn you to stick to the main roads here. This isn’t a good place to let your curiosity run away with you.”

Izuku swallowed and nodded. He eyed an alley as they passed it.

“Good. Now, did I ever tell you about Sensei’s quirk?”

“No? I don’t think so.”

“Right…he’s the reason my quirk came in.”

“What?!”

“Long story, but he can detect and draw out hidden or dormant quirks. That’s the other reason we’re visiting today. I know you want to go to a hero school. You’ll need every edge you can get for the entrance exams.”

“That’s so cool! How does it—”

“I don’t know, and don’t bother him too much about it. He told me he’s fine, but he seemed pretty tired when I was over earlier.”

Izuku nodded, concern beating out curiosity. They climbed the steps, and Izuku rang the doorbell. This time the younger Shigaraki answered the door. “Tomura!”

Hisashi took the bag Izuku was carrying to let his son tackle his friend in a hug. Hisashi tried not to have a heart attack as Tomura hugged Izuku back, then proceeded to put him in a headlock and give him a sound noogie. “That’s what you get for leaving me to that Dungeon Sloth last week, you pipsqueak!”

Young Shigaraki was careful to always keep one finger off his friend while tormenting him, but Hisashi was still a bit nervous. Izuku’s playful pleas for forgiveness made him laugh though. After a minute he finally decided to interrupt their antics. The groceries were getting heavy. “Wow, you’ve grown.”

Tomura released Izuku to politely greet Hisashi and move out of the doorway. “I’d say you too, but I think you shrank.”

“Hey now!” Hisashi protested as he walked inside. The apartment looked better than it did this morning, but it still needed a lot of work to resemble a home. “I’ll have you know I only lost that centimeter because one of the servers dropped a box on my head last year.”

Tomura chuckled. “Come on in, Midoriya-sensei, mini Midoriya.”

“Hey!” Izuku whined before grabbing one of the bags and darting to the kitchen. He remembered himself a few steps in and backpedaled to kick his shoes off by the door. “S-sorry! Keep forgetting to do that now that we’re back in Japan.”

“What, are Americans savages or something?” Tomura asked as he followed them to the kitchen to see what they might be cooking.

“Or something,” Hisashi replied with a laugh. “It’s…different over there. You should visit someday.”

Tomura shrugged and looked over the ingredients, cutting boards, pans, knives, measuring cups and spoons, and set of pots they’d brought. The ingredients themselves were fairly sparse, but he hazarded a guess when he spotted the dashi stock. “Katsudon?”

Hisashi tapped his nose with the still packaged knife and grinned. “I checked in with the doc and got a list of food restrictions for your dad. So, this should be fine, as long as we don’t fry things too often and go easy on the spices.”

“Izuku, can you set the table for five while I wash everything? Tomura, want to practice breaking down the packaging?” he asked, tossing a crumpled bag to the teen.

Tomura caught the paper bag in a four-fingered grip and eyed it before shrugging and walking over to the trash can. Holding the bag over the bin, he let his raised middle finger down to touch the paper. With all five in contact, the paper crumbled into dust in seconds.

Hisashi blinked. “That’s a lot faster than five years ago. Your quirk is growing.” He tossed him the packaging from the knife.

Young Shigaraki grinned and gave the plastic the same treatment. Once the Midoriyas set to actually preparing the food, Tomura retreated to the living room’s ratty sofa. Best to give the fire-breather some space while he worked. Izuku and Hisashi cooked well together after years of practice. Hisashi handled frying the meat, with only small puffs of fire breath to avoid scorching the close ceiling and walls. Meanwhile, Izuku chopped the vegetables and started the dashi stock. The forlorn rice cooker sitting on the counter was recommissioned, and the meal came together in minutes.

Chapter Text

Shigaraki with Kurogiri at his elbow meandered into the room as they started dishing some of the food. Shigaraki kept a hand on the wall and moved slowly, but seemed okay otherwise. “Kurogiri-sensei, Shigaraki-sensei!” Izuku smiled at them, carefully setting the pans he’d been holding in the sink. Then he rushed over to greet them. To his credit, he only glanced at Shigaraki’s face for a few moments before offering a polite bow to the pair. “It’s an honor to see you again.”

Shigaraki chuckled behind his respirator, and Kurogiri’s eyes narrowed in what passed for his smile. “None of this last name nonsense, young man. Sensei is fine,” the older man said. With the respirator in place, his voice had a faintly muffled, tinny quality.

“Of course, Sensei. Oh! Here, let me get a chair for you.” Ever mindful of others’ needs, Izuku quickly pulled out the chair closest to the hallway.

“Thank you, Young Midoriya.”

Izuku nodded before catching himself and answering verbally, “You’re welcome. What would you like to drink? My dad picked out a red wine and some sodas at the store.”

“Water is fine. There’s a filtered pitcher in the fridge.”

He took the others’ drink orders and set to preparing them as his dad brought over the first pair of bowls. Once all five were delivered the Midoriyas joined their friends to eat. Hisashi and Kurogiri chatted amicably next to Sensei while Tomura and Izuku held a quiet debate across from him, planning a campaign they wanted to try this weekend. Izuku watched with silent trepidation as Sensei struggled a bit with the chopsticks on the larger chunks of pork. He also noted how every three bites he raised the respirator back into place for a few minutes.

Sensei saved his breath for after he finished his katsudon. “You might want to postpone your gaming plans to next weekend.” When the teens looked at him curiously, he continued, “Depending on the quirk Izuku has, he may still be recovering by the time you usually play tomorrow. Drawing out a delayed quirk can be hard on a person. The body has to adjust all at once to a mature quirk rather than over years of steady growth.”

Tomura raised his eyebrows, glancing between his adopted dad and friend. He hadn’t been aware of this plan for the evening and seemed intrigued.

Nodding towards the hallway, Sensei said, “Whenever you’re finished, Young Midoriya, we can start.”

Izuku tried not to smile too hard as he gulped down the last few bites of his rice. He hurried around to pull Sensei’s chair back as he stood, hovering by the man’s elbow like he’d seen Kurogiri do. They slowly made their way down the hall. “You helped your father with the meal?”

“Hm? Yes, Sensei. He’s been teaching me. Katsudon’s the dish I know best.”

“It was very good.”

“Thanks.”

They reached the open door, and Izuku stared at all the medical equipment. He didn’t recognize what most of the machines were, and the lingering scents of antiseptic and bleach made him suddenly nervous. The last time he’d been somewhere that smelled like this, his mother had…He shook his head and swallowed his nerves. If Sensei noticed his arm trembling when he leaned on it, he didn’t comment.

They crossed the open space to the chair, and Sensei sank into it slowly. He then raised a hand, red-black energy fluctuating around it. “This is my power. It’s activated through skin contact. I’ll rest my hand on your head. Depending on the type of quirk, you will likely feel pain. Your father’s throat felt like it was on fire when he got his.”

Izuku swallowed anxiously, thoughts of hospitals fading to the back of his mind. “Okay.”

“Try not to fight the pain. It will go more smoothly that way. Ready?”

Izuku knelt in front of Sensei so he wouldn’t have to reach as far. “Yes.”

Izuku braced himself and closed his eyes as Sensei rested a power-wreathed hand on top of his head. His scalp tingled, and the pain kicked in a moment later. Trembling muscles went rigid in agony, and it felt like someone poured boiling oil down his spine. He was pretty sure he screamed before he blacked out.

---

Hisashi was there to grab Izuku’s shoulders and keep him upright when he started to go limp. He tried not to think about his son’s tortured scream. That would haunt his nightmares alongside Inko’s body and Sensei’s destroyed face.

Sensei removed his hand a minute later, the glow around it dissipating. “It is done. He now has a quirk called Hyper-Processing. His nerves will fire and transmit much faster than normal, giving him unparalleled reflexes. He’ll also be able to think circles around most heroes and villains.”

At the questioning glance Hisashi—and Tomura and Kurogiri at the doorway—gave him he laughed. “I have a few other quirks that accomplish the same thing in combination. I will not miss this one. It should serve him well.”

“Thank you, Sensei.” Hisashi bowed as deeply as he could while cradling his son.

“Kurogiri, could you take them home?”

Hisashi stood with Izuku and told Tomura, “There should be enough food for a few extra days. It’ll need to go in the fridge soon.” Then he turned to Kurogiri and gave him the address of their apartment.

Kurogiri made a warp gate nearby, following the Midoriyas through to get a better lock on where their home was for any future trips.

---

Izuku did not, in fact, recover in time for his planned raid with Tomura. He woke up briefly a few times over the next day, but only for minutes at a time. He didn’t fully return to himself until Sunday. Even then he was sore all over, and he had a headache. He shakily stood and stumbled into the living room where his dad was watching the news, something about a lady with a regeneration quirk going missing.

“Izuku!”

Izuku blinked in confusion as his dad seemed to move in slow motion toward him. “What day is it?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. Things seemed to be moving at normal speed when he opened his eyes again.

Hisashi grinned at him. “It’s Sunday afternoon. I was beginning to get worried. I know your power is mentally-based, but…”

“I’m a bit achy, but I’m okay, dad, really,” Izuku assured, smiling back. His eyes lit up as he continued. “So, you know what my quirk is?”

Hisashi ruffled his bedhead and guided him over to the sofa. Once seated he explained what Sensei had told him.

“Hyper…Processing?” Izuku mused. After considering the implications of his nerves being able to work at two or three times their normal speed he beamed. “That’s so cool! Reflexes, analysis, figuring out what to write on a timed essay? This quirk is so versatile! I wonder if my muscles can keep up with the faster impulses or if there’s some upper limit I’ll have to watch for? Oh! I should probably make sure to eat more foods with potassium to keep muscle cramps to a minimum. What other nutrients are important for nerve and muscle function? I could look into neurobiology in my free time I suppose. The local library might not have something on that advanced a topic though—”

He happened to glance over at his dad. He stopped at the look of utter confusion turned his way, blushing when he realized he’d been mumbling. “Hehe. Sorry…”

Hisashi shook himself and laughed. “Oh yeah, that’ll take some getting used to. Do you have any idea how fast you were just talking? I couldn’t catch half of it, and I’m pretty fluent in mumble-speak.”

Red crept further up Izuku’s face as he squeaked out another apology.

His dad waved off the attempt. “Izuku, you’re fine. Now come on. Let’s get some food in you. Sensei didn’t say if your quirk would speed up your metabolism, but missing a day and half’s worth of meals can’t be good for a growing boy.”

Thinking about food made him realize just how famished he was. It also reminded him of something. “Sounds great! By the way, when’s your new job start?”

“Ah, that’s the week after next, though I’ll need to head in a few days early to pick up my syllabus and arrange everything,” Hisashi said with a grin. He turned more contemplative as he pulled ingredients from the refrigerator. “I should also check with someone at the Quirk Registry. See if I need to reup my occupational quirk license after being out of the country for so long and get your quirk registered too.”

“Did you find a place in Tokyo yet?”

“No, the school is taking care of that one. There are some apartments on campus. And I’ll still be here on weekends. Think you can keep from burning the place down on weekdays?” he teased.

Izuku laughed. “No promises. I may not have a fire quirk, but I’m sure I could find a way.”

“Just be safe,” his dad urged. After a moment he prompted, “And if anyone bullies you?”

Izuku recited the familiar mantra, “Make it clear I’m not worth the trouble…without hurting them. Tell a teacher or the principal. If they use quirks, get evidence and tell the police. If I’m in actual physical danger do what I have to to get away. The usual.”

“Yeah, and I’m coming with you to the school tomorrow,” His dad said pointing a knife at him briefly before going back to cutting the raw chicken on the cutting board. “I’ll make sure the staff understand the Midoriyas are no pushovers.”

Izuku stifled a giggle. The first time his dad had stormed into his school in America after a bullying incident, he’d been fuming, both figuratively and literally. It had taken threat of a lawsuit and going to the local news station to finally get them to take proper action.

He frowned. While he hoped that school here—and with a quirk—would be different, he remembered enough of his time with his mom to suspect it would be the same song, different verse. A familiar ache ate away at the last of his good mood. It was just him and Dad now. Dad believed in him but…Mom hadn’t, and no one else seemed to either. Yeah, his aikido instructor back in America had called him competent, but he always had this…disappointed air about him. Like he was never quite good enough.

His eyes wandered across their living room to rest on a wall photo of his mom and him when he was little. He didn’t realize he’d stopped talking to his dad until a hand rested on his shoulder.

His dad gave him a sad smile. “I miss her too.”

Chapter Text

“So, Aldera Junior High?” His dad asked.

“Yep,” Izuku said. His voice was even enough, but his shoulders were tense.

“Got your lunch? Textbooks? Trusty notebook?”

“Dad!”

The older Midoriya cracked a smile and threatened to ruffle his son’s hair. Izuku ducked away. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. But just in case something comes up while I’m stuck in line at the License Office, here.” He handed Izuku a slip of paper with two phone numbers on it: Kurogiri and Dr. Tsubasa. “Oh, don’t forget to tell your teacher that you’ll be out on Wednesday for your quirk counselling appointment.”

“Got it, Dad. Thanks!” He jogged toward the front door of the school before turning around to call back, “Good luck with your license.”

Then he was inside and sprinting down the hall. He did not want to be anywhere close to the office when his dad asked to see the principal. Once he turned a corner he slowed down. The halls were empty this early. They’d arrived with 20 minutes to spare to allow for navigating the new school and his dad’s conversation with the front office.

They would have been here earlier, but they’d had to detour around a villain attack. He’d scrambled to write as many notes as he could before his hand started spasming. Turned out his brain could outpace his muscles. He had to settle for soaking in as much as he could with plans to write it down later.

He quickly entered the two new numbers into his phone alongside his dad and Tomura, then pulled his class schedule out of his pocket to search for his homeroom. He found it on the second floor and entered, intending to spend the extra time cataloging the villain attack—and the new observation about his own quirk—in his notebook.

He was startled to find he wasn’t the first one here. A muscular blonde with spiked hair was already seated at one of the desks. They stared at each other in stunned silence for a moment. Then the blonde’s familiar face creased in a scowl. “Deku!”

Izuku felt like a small, scared nine-year-old again and stuttered out a quiet “Kacchan?”
His former friend/bully stood and took a step toward him. “What do you think you’re doing here? You up and vanished five years ago!”

The threatening advance of Kacchan—Bakugo Katsuki— snapped Izuku out of his trance. He knew how to deal with bullies now. Even if this one used to be his…best friend. He straightened his back and clenched trembling fists at his sides. “Yeah, after my mom was murdered.”

The cold reminder of why Izuku had left stopped Katsuki in his tracks.

“I’ve been in America with my dad. We moved back to Japan last week.” He offered an emotionless grin, keeping his eyes on the blonde. “How’ve you been?”

Katsuki looked uncertain for a moment, searching Izuku’s face for something. Then he snarled. “None of your business!”

Izuku shrugged and calmly walked towards his assigned desk—thankfully on the opposite side of the room from Katsuki’s. He kept careful tabs on where the hothead was as he moved. Settling into his desk, he sighed, deciding to extend an olive branch. “You know, I don’t expect you to want to be friends with me again, but if you want to try, I’m open to it. If not, I’ll leave you alone.” When Katsuki started gearing up to shout something, Izuku cut him off. “My quirk finally came in. You never believed me about the whole delayed thing...” He shook his head, not daring to look at his old friend. “You don’t have to be ashamed to be around me anymore.”

Katsuki’s eye twitched as he answered. “I’m ashamed of nothing! You’re just not worth the time, Deku. So, stay out of my way.” The blonde stormed back over to his desk and dropped into his chair.

Deciding that had gone better than expected, Izuku pulled out his notebook and began writing. He tested just how fast he could go before backing off when his hand started twitching. At least there was a warning sign before his muscles completely freaked out.

Katsuki and he ignored each other until the start of class. Then their teacher asked Izuku to introduce himself, as it wasn’t often they got a transfer this far into the term. He took a deep breath and stood. “Hi! I’m Izu—wait, Japanese order, right—I’m Midoriya Izuku. I grew up around here but spent the last few years in America. My quirk…” He still hadn’t gotten used to saying that. He realized he’d trailed off for a few seconds, immediately feeling anxious with all the eyes on him. “My quirk—Hyper-Processing—is a delayed one. It just came in recently. So, I’m still getting used to it. Yeah…” He hurried to sit down in hopes people would stop staring.

After that the teacher moved on to some career assessment forms the class had filled out the day before. Izuku tuned out until he heard that Katsuki was applying to UA. “You’re applying to UA too?” He asked before he could stop himself. Everyone was staring again. Shoot. Even with his quirk-enhanced brain, he’d spoken without running that through a filter.

Katsuki looked furious. “You what?!” He stomped over to Izuku’s desk. “You think you can apply to UA with a quirk you don’t even know how to use? Why don’t they just let four-year-olds apply while they’re at it?” He slammed a hand down on the desk, setting off a handful of small explosions against the surface.

Izuku flinched backward and debated the merits of yanking that arm forward and jamming an elbow into Katsuki’s face on his way down. As tempting as the thought was, he decided he didn’t want to visit the principal on his first day. “My quirk’s more of a p-passive thing.” He silently cursed himself for stuttering. It was hard not to remember all of the beatdowns Kacchan had given him while in this position. It was all he could do to maintain eye contact. “I won’t rely on it t-too much in a fight, though it should make my reflexes faster.”

“Tch. You might as well be quirkless. You think you can go up against the likes of me?”

Izuku refused to let himself flinch at the old insult, and he hid a trembling hand under his smoking desk. He glared up at Kacc-Katsuki. “Guess we’ll see in the entrance exam.”

Katsuki’s eye twitched. Izuku tensed to defend himself. The teacher chose then to get involved. “Bakugo, sit down this instant, and quit damaging school property! Midoriya, stop antagonizing him.”

Izuku shot their teacher a disbelieving look. Really? He was getting blamed for this? He swallowed the retort he longed to make and watched Katsuki saunter back over to his desk. At least he was honest in his intentions. Izuku much preferred that to the type who pretended to be his friend only to lock him out of the locker room in his boxers.

After Katsuki’s theatrics, the rest of the morning passed in a peaceful blur. He avoided the cafeteria at lunch, and afternoon classes sped by. The last class of the day was English. Having become fluent while living with his dad, he tuned out the lecture and spent some more time writing in his notebook. Out of curiosity, he flipped back through a few older entries on American heroes. He blinked in surprise and flipped back to the new ones. The new entries were more than double the length of the old ones, though the sketches hadn’t improved appreciably.

He frowned and tapped his pen against his chin. All the details from the fight this morning were still crisp and clear in his mind. He could practically relive the entire thing down to the smell of the giant villain’s BO. On a page dedicated to his own quirk he wrote, “Faster/more complete transfer from short term to long term memory? Or hyperawareness?” To test the memory theory, he set a reminder in his phone for a month from now reminding him to go over the details of the fight again.

He glanced at the clock and blinked in surprise when he saw there was still a half hour left of class. He sighed, blaming his quirk for having already finished what he wanted to do. He shrugged and started a new page on Sensei’s quirk. That occupied him through the rest of class.

He got so absorbed in his work that he didn’t notice class had been let out until a hand snatched his notebook from under his hand. “Wha—? Hey! Kacchan, give that back!”

Katsuki held the notebook just out of reach. “So much for fast reflexes, huh? I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but we’re not done.”

Two of Katsuki’s friends stood behind him, enjoying the scene. The guy with the long fingers looked familiar, but not the other guy. Didn’t Katsuki used to hang out with a winged kid? After a moment the name came back to him. He interrupted the lackeys’ taunts to ask, “Hey, what happened to Tsubasa-kun? Did he transfer schools?”

The trio of bullies looked at each other in confusion. “Dude went missing a few years ago,” Long fingers said.

Katsuki turned on his friend. “Shut up!” Then he slammed his hands together, exploding Izuku’s notebook between them.

Izuku jumped to his feet with a yell. “My notes!”

“Not like you’re going to need them,” Katsuki said with a smirk. He tossed the scorched notebook over his shoulder…and right out the open window. “If you were going to be a great hero, you’d have shown potential way before now. When I make it into UA, people are going to see that about me. Your quirk’s almost as pathetic as you. Too little, too late,” He scoffed.

Izuku was frozen in place trying to process the fact his old bully had just toasted one of notebooks. Then Katsuki reached forward to place a glowing hand on his shoulder. A glowing hand meant Katsuki’s quirk, which meant impending physical harm. He still remembered the burns from when they were kids, the pain, the smell.

Izuku reacted, for once not thinking. He rushed in past the arm moving in slow motion to grab Katsuki around the chest. He shifted his right leg behind the bully and twisted down and forward. He lifted the larger boy off the ground, using his right hip as a fulcrum, before slamming him to the floor on his side between the rows of desks.

Izuku took Katsuki’s momentary shock and the others’ stunned silence as his cue to grab his backpack and scram. He heard a few shouted obscenities behind him and ran faster. He’d just flipped Kacchan. He’d just flipped Kacchan! He laughed as he took the stairs to the first floor two at a time. He ducked into the first classroom he found and raised a window to escape through. He heard Katsuki barrel past the room as he crouched below the windowsill with a hand over his mouth.

Once he couldn’t hear pursuit anymore, he crept through the bushes back around to the side of the building his class had been on. Much to his dismay, he found his missing notebook in the koi pond. “Oh, come on. Don’t eat that,” he told the fish. He lifted the book and watched ink-stained water trickle from between the pages. “At least I reviewed most of the pages in class. I’m going to have to copy all this over to a new one tonight.”

On his walk home, Izuku contemplated just how much trouble he might be in for that stupid—albeit satisfying—stunt. He doubted Katsuki would report him. Like that egotist would ever admit someone smaller than him had laid him out in no time flat. He hoped Katsuki would just leave him alone now, but he had a sinking feeling that the blonde would take today as a challenge. Izuku wouldn’t have the element of surprise twice. He really needed to get back into an aikido class. At least his dad’s MMA training had worked like a charm.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he saw Katsuki walk into an intersection ahead of him. Glancing around frantically, Izuku dove off the sidewalk and slid down an embankment to a sidewalk following the river. He ran as fast as he could for the underpass and pressed his back against the wall once safely out of sight. He panted and listened, eyes darting between both ends of the tunnel. After waiting a few minutes, he decided Katsuki hadn’t seen him. He wasn’t patient enough to wait this long for an ambush if he had seen. As the adrenaline started to leave his system, he let out a nervous laugh and started walking.

He heard the danger before he saw it. He glanced over his shoulder and stared at the gelatinous mass of sludge climbing into the air from gaps in a manhole cover. For a moment he was torn between fascination and horror. Then the thing fixed its pair of eyes on him. The fascination gave way to panic. He tried to move, but his legs didn’t respond fast enough. He fell as disgusting liquid slammed into his back and swirled around him. The villain said something, but Izuku was more focused on the fact the sludge was suffocating him, pushing into his mouth and nose. He couldn’t claw the stuff away from his face or kick his way free.

His racing thoughts made less and less sense as his struggles weakened. He didn’t want to die. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to be a hero yet.

Chapter Text

Izuku came to with someone patting his face. The second he tried to breathe he choked, and whoever was there helped him roll onto his side to cough up sludge. They thumped his back firmly a few times then kept their hand there until he was done. Izuku closed his eyes and took greedy breaths. He was never taking breathing for granted again.

“You had me worried for a moment there, young man. Are you hurt? I already called the paramedics.”

Izuku opened his eyes and cautiously sat up. Looking up at his savior he said, “I-I’m okay. Just need a min-Ah-All Might!” He scrambled back a few feet at a sight he never expected to see in person.

All Might. The All Might! He just got saved by All Might in the flesh! The closest he’d ever gotten before this was that picture his dad took with All Might when he visited his restaurant a decade ago. But this? “Oh-oh wow. I need to get an autograph! I know I have a pen around here somewhere.” Then he remembered that his notebook was ruined. “Shoot. Did my phone survive? I can just take a picture.” He grinned at the thought of having a matching picture to the one his dad already had on the wall at home.

“Oh, I already signed your notebook, though it seems the villain made a mess of it.”

“Oh! Thank you, sir,” He said bowing, clutching the ruined book. Guess he had to keep it now.

He didn’t even realize he’d lapsed into English until All Might laughed. “You speak English too? Smart lad. Now let’s take that picture. I have to get this villain to the police,” he said, holding up a plastic bottle filled with the villain’s sludge and eyes.

Izuku shuddered and suddenly wanted to brush his teeth for an hour. Nope, he was not thinking about the smell or taste or suffocating. He was not going to vomit in front of All Might. His hand only shook slightly as he took a selfie with the hero.

“Thank you so much,” He said, making sure to stick to Japanese this time. Now that his near-death experience and the shock of All Might’s arrival were wearing off, his curiosity and inner fanboy started kicking back into gear. Before he could decide what question to start with, All Might began stretching.

“Now, stand back. I’m about to take off.”

“Wait, you’re leaving already?”

“Yes, true heroes are constantly fighting time as well as crime. Now, take care. The paramedics should be here in a few minutes to check you over.”

Izuku saw All Might’s muscles tightening to jump, and things slowed down. If he could only ask All Might one question, he knew what it would be, and he couldn’t very well ask it if his idol leapt halfway across the city.

Maybe grabbing onto All Might’s leg as he took off wasn’t the best choice he’d ever made. Glancing down, he quickly decided this was right up there with trying that ghost pepper challenge that had gone around at his American school. Once they’d safely landed on a rooftop, he let go of All Might’s leg and reminded himself to breathe. Breathing was a good thing.

All Might scolded him for his rash decision, but he paused when Izuku coughed again. “Young man, you really should have waited for the paramedics. What were you thinking?”

“I just…wanted to ask you something. I have so many questions, and I know you’re busy. But I have to ask…” After discovering so many limitations to his new quirk today, he wondered if it was enough. He had a quirk now, but he was still helpless when faced with a villain. He knew how to fight, and he hadn’t been able to do anything. He’d still been afraid of Katsuki, the teachers still didn’t care about the bullying, and his dad was still the only one who supported him. Memories of overheard conversations between his mom and dad when he was little played in his mind. His mom’s tears, Kacchan’s derisive tone, how easily that villain had taken him down.

“I’m sorry Izuku.”

“Your quirk’s almost as pathetic as you. Too little, too late.”

“My mental quirk isn’t really good for fighting…” He distinctly remembered his legs seizing up when he tried to move too fast to get away from the sludge villain. Talk about a quirk backfiring. “It was a delayed quirk, and I don’t know how to use it very well yet. But do you think it’s possible for someone like me to become a hero like you?”

All Might’s silence made Izuku nervous. Keeping his eyes on the rooftop Izuku rambled to fill the dead air, only stopping when he heard a hiss like the air leaking out of a tire. Looking up, he was stunned to find a very different face from who he usually thought of as the Symbol of Peace. This man was horribly thin with sunken cheeks and clothes that hung off his frame. Clothes that were obviously meant for someone far larger and matched exactly what All Might had been wearing a moment before. The two stared at each other for a moment.

“Huh. I never took your power for a transformation type. No wonder you’ve been able to maintain your secret identity for so long…”

All Might blinked in surprise. “It’s not a transformation. Though I guess I can see why you’d think tha—” He was cut off by a coughing fit that left flecks of blood on his knuckles.

“All Might! Are you okay? Maybe you should see the paramedics too,” Izuku said.

All Might shook his head and sighed. He sat down on the rooftop and swapped to English when he continued talking, “It wouldn’t help. Look, can I count on you not to go telling anyone about this?” When Izuku nodded, All Might lifted the hem of his shirt to reveal a nasty scar that covered the majority of his torso. The abnormal shape of his chest under the scar made Izuku suspect he was missing a few ribs on the left side. “Five years ago, I lost my stomach and one of my lungs to a villain. The surgeons did what they could, but this can’t be fixed.”

All Might glared at Izuku when the boy coughed again and motioned for him to sit down too. He let his loose shirt fall to hide the gruesome scar again. “I can only do hero work three hours a day now. The rest of the time, I look like this.”

Izuku tried to wrap his head around what All Might was saying. He’d been this badly hurt in one of his fights? And five years ago…He tried not to let himself think about the timing. His mom had died five and a half years ago. Shigaraki-sensei had been hurt nearly five years ago too, and in a fight involving All Might. He knew he couldn’t ask Shigaraki about it, but after thinking about it for a few days, he was willing to bet the fight that had hurt his friends and idol were one and the same. “Was it Toxic Chainsaw?” he asked without his usual enthusiasm.

All Might raised his eyebrows at Izuku. “I’m surprised you know about that fight, but no. It wasn’t him. Yeah, he got in a few lucky hits and got away, but this was from a different fight, one I specifically asked be kept out of the media.”

All Might gave a weak huff of a laugh and stared down at his hand. “I’m the guy who’s always smiling. I’m supposed to be the Symbol of Peace. People think I’m never afraid. But honestly? I smile to hide the fear inside. Part of being a pro hero is risking your life, and some villains can’t be beaten without powers.” All Might’s hand strayed to hover over his scar. “So, honestly? No, I don’t think you could become a hero at this point. I’ve come across delayed quirks once or twice, and they’re challenging to get a handle on at the best of times.”

“I see.” Izuku tried not to let his hurt show on his face. All Might was just saying that because even he’d been injured. If All Might was nearly killed by a villain, what hope did someone like him have? It still hurt though. All Might didn’t believe in him.

“There are plenty of other ways to help people. From what I saw in your notebook, you’d be decent in analysis or support. And there’s always a need for more police officers and those that handle the villains once they’ve been detained.” All Might pushed himself to his feet and headed for the roof access door. “It’s not bad to dream, kid. Just make sure your dreams are attainable, realistic.”

He opened the door and paused. “And please go get yourself looked at? Respiratory injuries can be serious. You nearly drowned earlier.”

Izuku nodded without really thinking, and he heard the door click closed behind him. All Might was gone.

---

Izuku eventually started walking home. He’d get his dad to drive him to the hospital to get his lungs checked out after dropping off his school supplies and changing into something clean. He was still coughing and had gotten a few globs of greasy sludge out, but it felt like there was still something in his chest.

He absently noted that the sludge monster must be oil based, not water, as his clothes had refused to dry after city hopping with All Might and walking this far. He debated asking his dad if they could burn this outfit and get him a new bookbag. He didn’t even want to think about what shape his textbooks were in.

He’d just texted his dad a summary when an explosion caught his attention. There was something familiar about the sound, and he frowned as he started towards the commotion. Where had he heard that before? There weren’t many heroes or villains with quirks that could do that.

He reached for his notebook before aborting the move. What good would it do anyway? He almost turned away from the crowd and the fight beyond it when one of the bystanders asked, “Why aren’t the heroes doing anything?”

Another bystander answered. “Looks like they met their match. Plus, the villain captured a kid. It’s not looking good.”

Izuku inched through the crowd, getting a bad feeling about what he’d find on the other side. When he broke through to the front, he was horrified to see the same sludge villain All Might had saved him from. All Might must have dropped the bottle it was in when they were midair, when All Might kept Izuku from falling. It was his fault.

Izuku’s mounting guilt froze when the sludge villain turned toward him. The hostage had red eyes and blonde hair. Katsuki. Those explosions were Katsuki. The villain was suffocating Katsuki.

Izuku’s feet moved before even his mind had time to catch up. By the time it did, he’d covered half the space between the crowd and the villain. Plan! He needed a plan! This thing was oil based and didn’t seem to be flammable, or Katsuki would have been free by now. He couldn’t get a handhold on it or fight it directly. He and the heroes had already tried that. The only anomalies in its nasty, sludge body were its eyes and mouth. They were the only non-translucent structures on it. Maybe they were more substantial, more solid. Maybe they were weak points.

Deciding that was all he really had to go on unless someone with a wind quirk showed up to blow the guy apart like All Might had earlier, he scanned the area for something to use as a weapon. A broken stop sign caught his eye. Not very balanced, but it should work to test his theory.

He scooped up the stop sign and shifted it to hold the jagged edge of the pole before him. That weird thing where everything was slower happened again. At least it made it easy to ignore the heroes shouting behind him. He focused on breathing and moving without hitting his twitching threshold instead.

The sludge villain had noticed him by now and was winding up in slow motion for a blow. Izuku ducked under the oily arm and jabbed the stop sign’s pole up into the villain’s nearest eye. Time sped back up all at once with the villain howling in pain. While the villain reared back, Izuku grabbed the now exposed collar of Katsuki’s shirt and pulled as hard as he could.

“Deku? What are you doing here?!” Katsuki asked between ragged breaths.

“I couldn’t just stand there and watch you die,” Izuku grunted, still pulling.

He’d gotten Katsuki partway out, but the villain was tightening his hold again, and he was angry. “You little twerp!”

Izuku had to fall backward to avoid another blow from the villain, and he really wished his quirk would kick back in with the slow-motion thing. That made it a lot easier to dodge. When he hit the ground, he rolled and grabbed a broken piece of concrete. He stood and threw it at the villain’s squinted eye, trying to keep it from focusing on suffocating his classmate. Why weren’t the heroes doing anything?

“That’s it! I’m done playing with you.” The sludge villain shot out a tendril to yank one of Izuku’s feet from under him and raised another appendage to smash him where he lay sprawled on the pavement. Izuku flinched and closed his eyes, knowing he couldn’t get away in time with his leg still trapped.

The blow never landed. Izuku hesitantly opened his eyes to see All Might standing over him, one foot pinning the tendril wrapped around Izuku’s ankle and one arm raised to block the attack that would have crushed him. All Might met his eye for a moment. “I really am pathetic, aren’t I? I told you the traits that make up a true hero, and I wasn’t even living up to my own ideals. Real heroes are always risking their lives and going beyond their limits.”

Then he turned his eyes on the villain. The sludge creature readied another blow, this time focusing on the hero. All Might shoved off the arm above him and reached forward to grab Katsuki’s arm through the ooze. He pulled Katsuki back while readying a punch with his other arm. “Detroit Smash!”

The shockwave from the smash must have knocked Izuku out, because when he came to again—yeesh, twice in one day was a bit much—Death Arms and Kamui Woods were standing guard while All Might dealt with the press. Once they noticed he was awake, they tore into him for running into danger like that. Izuku gave all the appropriate apologies and nods throughout the lecture, wishing he could just go home and forget today ever happened.

The wind shifted and blew a patch of smoke from one of the dying fires their way, setting off Izuku’s cough again. He had a little trouble catching his breath that time, and the heroes noticed. “Hey, Death Arms, get one of the paramedics over here,” Kamui Woods said, crouching beside Izuku. He finally noticed the kid was drenched in just as much sludge as his classmate was. “Hey, kid, did Sludgeface grab you at some point?”

After a moment of internal panic, Izuku quickly said, “Y-yeah. He ambushed me earlier and tried to drown me, but he dropped me to run off when All Might showed up. All Might stopped to make sure I was okay before giving chase. Guess that was enough time for him to give All Might the slip though.”

Kamui just blinked at him for a moment. “Kid, you are definitely not ‘okay’. Why didn’t you go to the hospital?”

Izuku scratched the back of his head. “I was going to after changing,” he said, tugging at his clammy and still soaked jacket sleeve. “I just live around the corner…”

Kamui winced in sympathy. “That stuff does smell pretty nasty. But your lungs are more important. You only got one set of those. And if you were already having trouble, you really shouldn’t have run in. The smoke’s only made your condition worse, I’m sure.” Kamui spotted Death Arms returning with the promised paramedic and waved them over.

“Yeah.” He coughed again. “Drowning like that’s awful. I just…couldn’t leave Kacchan to the same fate, especially when it’s my fault All Might couldn’t catch the villain earlier.”

Kamui sighed. “I hear ya, kid, but that’s what we’re here for. Leave the heroics to the heroes next time. Got it?” There was no real bite to his tone now.

Izuku nodded, though some small part of him wanted to point out that the heroes had been there and done jack all.

Deciding that Izuku had been berated enough, Kamui ruffled the kid’s nasty hair before realizing he’d get sludge all over his hand. Izuku half cringed, half laughed as Kamui stared down at his goopey hand. “Hey, uh, do you think the doctors will need a sample of this stuff to check for bacteria or something?” he asked the paramedic. “Pretty sure the kid’s got more of it rattling around in his lungs. He nearly got drowned by the same villain earlier.”

Izuku tuned out the rest of the quick conversation and pulled his phone back out, grateful that it still worked after everything. Apparently, his dad had seen him on the news after getting his text and was on his way. And he did not seem pleased. Izuku gulped, then promptly coughed again, gaining the paramedic’s full attention.

His dad arrived while the paramedic was trying to convince Izuku that he needed a ride to the hospital. His dad followed him into the ambulance with a glare. Izuku adjusted the oxygen mask on his face and scanned the fight scene while waiting for the paramedic to return with some paperwork for his dad. He saw Katsuki shoot him a weird look before the EMT climbed into the back with them and closed the door.

Chapter Text

The Midoriyas spent the night at the hospital. A nurse with a minor telekinesis quirk that worked with liquids was able to remove most of the sludge from Izuku’s lungs, and he was started on three different antibiotics while the doctors waited on test results. The staff let him take a shower in his hospital room in the meantime. When those test results did come back, Izuku’s old clothes and bookbag were sent away for biohazard disposal. The books and his phone thankfully avoided that fate, though they did have to run through the hospital’s gas sterilizer.

Izuku stayed on oxygen most of that time, his dad sitting silent guard beside him. They hadn’t spoken to each other since arriving at the hospital. After the test results came back and they knew for sure Izuku would be okay—if on multiple medications for a week—Hisashi finally spoke. “Why?”

Izuku blinked back his exhaustion and looked over at his dad.

“Why did you rush in there? You almost died today, twice.” His dad didn’t sound exactly angry, but there was a tightness in his voice.

Izuku thought a moment before answering, “After that villain almost got me, I couldn’t leave someone else like that. And before you say it, the heroes on scene were just standing there. If Kacchan didn’t get that chance to breathe before All Might showed up…”

His dad gave him a tired half grin. “I get it. It’s hard to sit by and let someone you know suffer. Though, correct me if I’m wrong, wasn’t Kacchan one of your bullies?”

Izuku couldn’t meet his dad’s eyes as he nodded. “Still didn’t deserve to die.”

After a minute of silence Hisashi sighed. “Kacchan doesn’t deserve you.” He laughed wryly. “Some days I don’t think I do either.”

Izuku shot his dad a questioning look.

“I wanted to be a hero once. But by the time I got my quirk, I’d long since given up. I incorporated my quirk into my job and became a chef. Even though I’ve fought a few villains—in self-defense—I wouldn’t have done what you did today. I’m no hero. But you…you’re something special.” His dad gave him a fond, proud smile. “You’ll be the kind of hero the world really needs…if you live long enough to finish high school,” he added in a teasing tone.

Izuku fought his rising tears, smiling back at his dad. One person believed in him. That was enough.

On the way home the next day, Izuku asked how things had gone at the License Office. He was not expecting the exasperated groan or muttered curse. “I’m sorry, Izuku, but I’m going to have to leave you alone most of today. There was a mix up with getting my American license translated back into a Japanese one. They’re trying to give me a pro license.”

Izuku choked on air and coughed for a minute. “What? How does that even—?”

“I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure that clerk can’t read two words of English.”

Izuku understood his dad’s worry. Being on the pro registry meant he’d be on the call for emergencies and villain attacks. And his dad had none of the training needed for that. Not that he thought his dad would necessarily be bad at being a pro, but that wasn’t his dream anymore.

“I’m sure they’ll get it sorted out. Don’t worry about me. I’ll probably sleep most of today anyway.” Between the low-grade fever that had started up last night and the side effects of his antibiotics, he was already wiped, and they weren’t even halfway home yet.

Hisashi scrutinized Izuku for a moment, frowning. “Alright…but if you start feeling worse at all, I want you to call Kurogiri. I can pick up your missed classwork after I get my license sorted.” Hisashi grinned when Izuku groaned.

---

Izuku ended up missing three days of school and his quirk counseling appointment before his dad let him out of the apartment with strict orders to limit physical activity. He turned his doctor’s note in to Aldera’s front office and slowly walked to his homeroom, adjusting his new backpack on his shoulders.

He ignored Katsuki as he entered the classroom and sank into his seat. His bout of illness had sapped a lot of his stamina, and he just didn’t have the energy to deal with Katsuki today. He tried to suppress a cough as he dug his new notebook out of his backpack. After much internal debating, he’d decided to keep his old one, but gave it an early and honorable retirement. The new notebook started with all his observations of All Might, the sludge villain, and the nurse who’d helped clear his lungs.

He was dragged from his thoughts by a blunt “You look like crap.” He glanced up to see Katsuki watching him from his desk.

Izuku shrugged. “Pneumonia will do that to you.” A quick glance over Katsuki’s face revealed the usual healthy color and perpetual anger. At least he seemed to have escaped the sludge villain without serious injury.

“Should you even be in class?”

If Izuku didn’t know any better, he’d almost think Katsuki was worried. He likely just didn’t want to catch anything. “Probably not, but I’ve already missed three days.” Plus, his dad didn’t want to leave him alone all day again. The first two days, he’d slept right through when he was supposed to take one of his meds.

Katsuki growled something that sounded like “idiot” under his breath but left Izuku alone the rest of the day. Plenty of their classmates picked up Bakugo’s slack, teasing and taunting Izuku about his encounters with the sludge villain—apparently Kamui Woods had spread his version of events.

He allowed himself a small smile at successfully keeping All Might’s secret and reputation intact. Even if he never became a hero, he’d done something for the number one. Trying not to think about All Might’s painful dismissal again, he instead thought of their second encounter. Not for the first time, Izuku wondered about what All Might had said when he stepped in to rescue him and Katsuki.

“Real heroes are always risking their lives and going beyond their limits.”

It wasn’t an apology, but he almost admitted that Izuku had done something heroic. That thought helped him get through his first day back. He finished most of his homework during gym, which he still had a pass on, and headed for the Shigarakis’ apartment as soon as classes let out.

It was a shorter walk than going home, but it was also that time of year. Izuku had never gotten a straight answer from Tomura, but he’d pieced together that something bad had happened around this time, something that had led to Shigaraki taking care of him. Given his friend’s age at the time of the adoption, Izuku suspected it had to do with his quirk manifesting.

Tomura tended to withdraw when winter rolled around, and he grew more snappish, more rash with his decisions in game. Izuku had been halfway around the world the last five winters, but he was here this year. And he wouldn’t let a little sickness keep him from being there for his friend.

“Izuku? What are you doing here?” Kurogiri asked when he opened the door.

“Hi, Kurogiri. I was wondering if Tomura was home?”

“Yeah, I’m here, pipsqueak,” Tomura said, walking into view, portable game in hand. “I think what Kurogiri meant was why aren’t you in bed? You’re three shades paler than usual.” Despite the question, he stepped aside to let Izuku enter.

“Dad cleared me to go back to class today as long as I took it easy. Thought I’d reassure you guys I’m alive too,” He said with a faint smile.

“Alive’s a matter of opinion,” Tomura said shoving him onto the sofa. “Sit.”

He sank tiredly into the worn cushions and didn’t bother complaining when Kurogiri pressed a barely-there hand against his forehead to check his temperature. He pretended not to notice when the mist man started heating up some miso soup in the kitchen afterward.

Tomura sat beside him and returned to his game. Izuku leaned his head against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes for a minute. The day had taken more out of him than he’d expected, and the idea of walking home after visiting his friend appealed even less than when school let out. Hopefully, the soup would give him some energy, because he mostly just wanted to curl up and sleep at this point.

He almost did fall asleep before Kurogiri informed them the soup was ready. Shigaraki joined them for dinner, and they made small talk while eating.

Izuku and Tomura moved back to the sofa when they finished. Before leaving for his room again Sensei hesitated. “You didn’t want to walk past where it happened, did you?”

Izuku’s eyes shot open, and he blinked at Sensei who was facing his direction with uncanny accuracy for a blind man. Tomura glanced up from his game to look between his friend and father with furrowed eyebrows.

“You were attacked on your way home from school. You’d have passed the same spot today if you went home,” Sensei stated. Izuku wasn’t quite sure what to make of the man’s tone, but there wasn’t any judgment in it. He and Kurogiri turned to head back down the hallway without another word.

Izuku could feel Tomura watching him now. He swallowed and looked away from his friend. He clenched his right hand to stop a tremor.

Tomura didn’t call him out, instead shifting on the sofa to lean lightly against Izuku and let him see his handheld’s screen. “Hey, do you think I can take down this manticore with just my warrior and paladin?”

The next few hours sped past as Izuku backseat gamed. Dinner had been good, the company was better, and Kurogiri gave him a lift home when he realized it was already getting dark out. He’d gone to the Shigarakis’ to be there for Tomura, but maybe some part of him knew they’d be there for him too.

Chapter Text

“Okay, why are you dragging me halfway across the city, Izuku?” Tomura asked.

“It’s a surprise,” Izuku assured his friend, not slowing down. “We’re almost there. Come on.” Two weeks of rest and not running into villain fights had done wonders for the kid’s recovery.

Tomura groaned but allowed himself to be pulled along. Honestly, it still surprised him that Izuku would willingly grab his hand. When he wasn’t wearing gloves. Did this kid fear nothing? No, he knew Izuku feared the villain that had nearly killed him, and he had feared his bullies. The kid wasn’t completely senseless. Yet he never had been scared of Tomura. He remembered when they’d met as little kids. Even after telling him that he had a bad quirk, that he broke things he touched, Izuku’s first response had been to hug him.

Maybe it was selfish, letting Izuku this close, letting him stay there. All it would take was one slip up and Izuku could lose a hand or worse. But something about the kid’s energy made it easy to forget the looming danger of his own quirk. And maybe he enjoyed being treated like a normal person by someone who wasn’t programmed to do so—like Kurogiri—or could destroy him or his quirk if it got out of hand—like Sensei. Even Daruma was cautious around Tomura, though he suspected the doctor treated very few people as people to begin with.

Then there was formerly quirkless Izuku, who didn’t bat an eye when Tomura accidentally disintegrated a game controller and actually encouraged him to test out his quirk. He sometimes wondered if there was something wrong with Izuku’s brain, some reason why he tried to make friends with dangerous people. Tomura had heard of Kacchan and frankly wanted to kill the bastard if he ever met him. Tomura had only heard a few stories from Izuku during their gaming sessions, and he’d been able to tell right off the bat that Kacchan wasn’t anything remotely close to a friend.

Tomura shrugged. Kacchan’s loss was his gain. Tomura didn’t really have any friends his own age. Online classes made it a bit hard to interact with others, and he’d never really felt a need to. After the first few times he’d tried, be realized that most people were afraid of him as soon as they knew his quirk anyway, or they simply rubbed him the wrong way. They just weren’t worth the effort.

And while Tomura enjoyed Izuku’s company, today wasn’t a good day. His original plan had been to stay at the apartment or bar and work on beating his game. Dealing with people and their looks and how they just went about their lives willfully ignorant to the suffering around them was too much on days like these. They made his skin crawl and itch. He wanted to reach out and make them see.

His free hand twitched. He hoped this wouldn’t take too much longer.

“Here we are!” Izuku proclaimed. They stood at the top of a staircase leading down onto what might have once been a beach. It was a literal dump now. Glancing around, Tomura spotted a sign labeling the place as Dagobah Beach.

Tomura gave Izuku the most deadpan look he could muster. “Izuku, what are we doing here?”

Izuku’s smile didn’t falter for one moment. “Quirk training!” He gestured grandly at the mountains of scrap and trash. “No one really comes here anymore due to well, you can see. So, no one will bother us here! I need to work on figuring out my quirk for the entrance exams; they’re only 10 months away. I could also stand to do some weight and endurance training to be honest. And you can really let loose here and see how much your quirk’s grown. There’s no one else to get in the way, and you don’t have to worry about breaking anything important,” Izuku rambled.

Tomura blinked at Izuku before looking back out at the trash heaps and the ocean beyond. Leave it to the brainiac to find the one place his quirk couldn’t hurt anyone. It had been a long time since he’d broken down anything bigger than a garbage can. He could practically feel his power buzzing under his skin, eager to destroy. He found himself smiling when he looked back to his friend. “You know you’re the best, right?”

---

Tomura dusted his hands off as he surveyed the 20-foot area he’d cleared out. They were far enough from the stairs and tucked behind enough rusted cars and refrigerators that no one on the walking path would be able to see them. He had never tested his quirk to exhaustion before, and found himself barely feeling tired after the mound he’d destroyed. He wondered just how much he could do before needing to rest.

A cough behind him made him realize just how much dust was in the air from his quirk. “Here, you might want this,” Izuku said, prodding him in the ribs.

Tomura turned around to see his friend offering him a face mask like construction workers would wear. Izuku already had one on. Tomura nodded and took the mask before getting back to his destruction. Izuku for his part was moving things from the piles that looked like they might be recyclable and carrying them back down the beach to the stairs.

They both tired pretty quick the first day, but made it a habit to meet up there several times a week. Tomura was pretty sure Izuku went every day with the way the trash moved every time he met his friend there. It was fun actually getting to hang out with him in person, even if they didn’t always talk while they tackled the trash.

“Tomura! Check this out!” Izuku yelled, excitedly from down the beach.

Curious, Tomura walked over. They’d found a few odd things while working and had started a small collection against the retaining wall. The strangest thing they’d found so far was a lucky cat statue half as tall as Izuku. This discovery was somewhere between that and the toolkit missing only the phillips screwdriver. “Is that a drone?”

Izuku nodded, holding it up for Tomura to better see. The small flying robot had all four propellers intact and no other visible damage. “I wonder if I can get it working again?”

Tomura shrugged and started to walk back over to where he’d been practicing, Izuku following with his new toy. “I’m going to do a little more here before resting; why don’t you go ahead and grab the tools? No point getting your hopes up if the circuitry’s corroded.”

A week later, a shout told Tomura that Izuku had finally succeeded. Tomura left his junk pile to join his friend as he stared at the drone inching its way into the air. Tomura propped his elbow up on Izuku’s head and leaned on him. “Nice job, pipsqueak. Took you long enough.”

Izuku chuckled. “Yeah. I finally decided to hotwire it, since we don’t have the remote to turn it on.”

“…You don’t have a remote?”

“No?”

“How are you going to control it?”

Izuku blinked and scrunched up his eyebrows as he looked at the drone. “I probably should have thought of that.” Then the wind gusted, and the drone smacked into Izuku’s face before crashing to the sand. “Ow…”

Tomura laughed as he walked off.

---

Once Izuku’s last year of middle school and his aikido class started in the spring they didn’t get to hang out as often, but Tomura still met him on the weekends to work the beach together then play Quest Conqueror. And it was actually starting to look like a beach again. The only trash heaps left near the stairs were made up of large appliances and cars Izuku couldn’t drag away.

Tomura was disintegrating part of one of those piles when the whole mound destabilized. He heard metal groaning and squealing, and saw Izuku moving toward him faster than he’d ever seen the boy move before. He saw Izuku flash a look towards the collapsing pile, then back to him as he moved, wide-eyed and desperate.

Tomura knew that look, had seen more than a few people give him that look as they ran away from him, never toward him. Looking at the junk-alanche, he understood Izuku’s reaction. If he wasn’t crushed, it would be a miracle. And Izuku was rushing straight into danger again to try to help.

Part of Tomura was touched by Izuku’s action. The other part was furious that both of them were going to get hurt now. Izuku had been clear of the collapse. Tomura fell backward as the green haired boy tackled him, and he grit his teeth in anger. He wasn’t sure if he was angrier at Izuku for running into harm’s way or himself for not paying enough attention to what he was dusting.

As they fell, he saw a jagged and rusted bicycle frame on a direct path to skewer them. He grabbed it midair, willing it to be gone with all his helpless fury. The shape disintegrated in an instant, and they hit the ground.

After a tense second where they both braced for another impact, the friends realized they weren’t dead. They blinked at each other and looked where the trash should have been. “Huh?” Izuku rolled off of Tomura and they stared at a falling cloud of dust.

Tomura shakily sat up next to him, staring at his handiwork. He held his hands loosely in front of him and looked down at them, noting a slight shake. “Did I just—?”

“Uh huh.” They stared for a moment longer before Izuku started laughing. “Wow! Your power’s even more amazing! I didn’t know you could use it at range.”

“Well, I touched a bike that was about to hit you.”

Izuku got his breathing back under control, turning contemplative. “Okay, that makes more sense. You still had to touch something, but the decay spread to items you didn’t touch. Most of that junk wasn’t even close to the thing you touched.” Izuku rattled off more ideas and theories, and Tomura just grinned and shook dust out of his hair.

---

A few weeks later they had another close call.

Tomura had had a terrible week. One of the small jobs Sensei had given him fell through, losing them an important asset. He’d even had to lay low for a week after a cop might have seen him. He accidentally decayed another game controller. Kurogiri was miffed at him for decaying part of the bar counter. And it had been 2 weeks since he’d seen Izuku due to an aikido tournament.

When he made it to Dagobah Beach, Izuku was there ahead of him, already hard at work moving junk. He waved as soon as he spotted Tomura. “Hey! I got second place! There were so many cool quirks there too! First place was this guy with a tail…”

He trailed off when Tomura growled. “Oh…rough week?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna go decay a few tons of steel.”

Izuku didn’t miss a beat, grinning after Tomura as he stalked further down the beach. “O-okay. I’ll tell you about the competition later.”

For once, decaying things didn’t seem to improve his mood. He destroyed large chunks of debris at a time. He’d gotten better at doing AOE attacks since discovering the impact of his emotions on his quirk. But it didn’t seem to be enough. It hadn’t been for the job either.

When he stepped on a broken piece of glass, that was the last straw. Digging the shard out of the bottom of his shoe, he snarled. Looking at the ground beneath his feet, he was disgusted to realize there was almost more plastic, metal, and glass than sand. In a spur of the moment decision, he slammed his hand down on the ground, smiling wildly when a shockwave of his quirk travelled across the beach. He saw all the bits of trash dissolve as it passed. The sand itself seemed to be immune.

His thirst for destruction evaporated when he heard a familiar voice behind him. “Hey, Tomura. I know you probably don’t want to talk, but I brought you a bubble tea from that place you like…”

Tomura glanced over his shoulder in horror. Izuku was walking toward him with two cups in hand, unaware of the decay wave rapidly approaching him. No no no no no! Something in his chest twisted painfully. He couldn’t hurt Izuku. He couldn’t watch anyone else he cared about…He’d never wished so badly to not destroy everything he touched.

He didn’t have time to call a warning before the ripple in the ground reached his friend…and dusted his shoes before continuing on. Izuku danced back a step when he felt his shoes disintegrate. Then he froze, staring at Tomura as Tomura stared at him. The decay wave died out five feet behind Izuku.

“Are you okay?” They both asked at once.

Izuku flinched under a sudden glare from Tomura. “Am I okay? You’re the one who almost died!” Tomura shouted, shaking.

“I didn’t know you could do something like that,” Izuku admitted, though he looked a bit pale. He glanced down at the sand between his toes. Apparently, the decay got his socks too. “Your range is improving!” He added cheerily. “Maybe call out a warning before you do another ground decay though? I kinda liked those sneakers…”

“Yeah, well, I like you better, pipsqueak,” Tomura said, ruffling his hair with four fingers before taking his drink. “Still not sure how I didn’t kill you.”

“Maybe your quirk only decays what you want to destroy?”

Yeah, Tomura had anger issues. There wasn’t much in the world he wouldn’t mind destroying, given half a chance. His friend was a rare exception. He’d have to be more careful in the future. He wasn’t willing to test his luck twice. “Let’s not test that theory.”

Chapter Text

Not long after that it was that time again. Time for the UA Sports Festival. With his dad working in Tokyo, Izuku decided to take the party and snacks to the Shigarakis’ place after school, only to find Kurogiri and Tomura out doing something for work.

“What do you mean they won’t be home til late?” he asked Sensei as he set his grocery bags on the kitchen counter.

Sensei seemed to be doing better lately, more mobile, though he still wore the respirator everywhere he went. At least he wasn’t stuck in that medical room constantly now. The man laughed as he joined Izuku at the counter. “They don’t usually watch the Festival anyway. They aren’t so enamored with quirks as you, Young Midoriya.”

Izuku pouted for a moment, wondering if he should have just gone home. He didn’t want to bother Sensei if he was trying to rest. Sensei seemed to sense his hesitation and added, “I wouldn’t mind listening to the Sports Festival myself. I am supposed to run another treatment though.” The man turned his head to face the hallway.

Izuku thought for a second before he remembered the chairs in front of the tv where he and Tomura played games. “I can move one of the zaisu in there, and we can watch on the tv in your room if you want. I’ll make sure to put it back afterward.”

Sensei hummed his approval and started walking toward the hall. “I’ll try to find the right channel.”

“Alright. Did you want any snacks?” Izuku had made sure to pick things up that would be fine with Sensei’s dietary restrictions. Though part of him wondered if the man was doing well enough now to ignore them.

“Make me a plate, and I’ll try some. I don’t recognize all of the smells.”

Izuku grinned. Of course, Sensei didn’t recognize them; most of these were American. He’d finally found a store where he could get some of the foreign food he’d been craving since moving back to Japan.

By the time Izuku had moved the zaisu and gotten their snacks and drinks, the first years’ competition was over. It had gone relatively quick given that half of the first year Hero course had been expelled for some reason. At least there were still the second and third years. He hastily settled into the low chair, pulled his notebook and pen out of his backpack, and started writing.

Izuku watched coverage of the event every year, live when possible, and took extensive notes. It was fascinating watching how some of the first years developed when he saw them again in their subsequent years. Most of the pro heroes he got to analyze had already settled on their style and didn’t make radical changes. The students were still experimenting and finding their feet, testing the limits and applications of their power. And it was stunning.

He kept his muttering in check as long as he could, but when Amajiki placed first in the first of the second year events, he couldn’t help it. “Oh wow! He’s grown a lot. No wonder he’s part of his year’s Big 3. He could only do one thing at a time last year, and now he’s doing at least three! I wonder what having tentacles would be like. Does he have the same level of sensation in quirk-affected limbs? I wonder how long he can keep that up.” And he was off.

He stopped himself when he caught Sensei staring at him. (Was it really staring when his eyes were gone?) Izuku hunched his shoulders and went back to scribbling frantically in his notebook. “S-sorry.”

“Is that something new with your quirk?”

“Hm? Oh, no. I’ve always loved analyzing quirks, and the muttering is an old habit. I just talk a lot faster now when I get excited.”

“Interesting,” Sensei said, seemingly unbothered. “Can you tell me about this Amajiki while they’re setting up the next event? It sounds like you remember him from last year.”

“You don’t think it’s stupid?” Izuku asked cautiously. Aside from his dad, no one else cared for his hobby. Tomura listened to his quirk rants with fond tolerance but never invited one on purpose, and his classmates…well, they mostly made fun of him for it.

Sensei gave him a look. How did he even do that without eyes? “It’s not stupid, Izuku. And I imagine it will come in quite handy when you’re a hero.”

Izuku grinned, sensing genuine interest. Sensei did seem to have a knack for understanding quirks, which made sense given his own quirk. He seemed to get a feel for peoples’ quirks when he brought them to the surface, had even told Izuku what to expect from his new quirk before he’d had a chance to use it.

“Alright.” Taking a moment to pull his notebook from last year’s festival out of his bag, he flipped to Amajiki’s page. “So, last year…”

They talked through the whole intermission with the drone of the announcers and the hum and whir of Sensei’s medical equipment for background. Sensei listened attentively to Izuku’s analysis and the updates he added from this year’s first event. He even pointed out a few things Izuku had missed, like how he’d mentioned Amajiki had lost part of a tentacle at one point, but his hand had been fine after the event. That led to a whole host of new questions regarding the student’s ability.

He also raised a very valid point that made Izuku question his analyses. “Have you analyzed any villains yet?”

Izuku’s mind screamed to a halt at the abrupt subject change. “Huh?”

“If you’re going to become a hero, you won’t be fighting other heroes. You’ll need to analyze and take down villains that often won’t hesitate to hurt or kill you.”

Izuku swallowed, suddenly uneasy. The sludge villain’s laugh echoed through his mind. He twirled his pen to try to distract himself. “Uh, no. Not really. I did w-write some notes on the sludge villain, but t-that’s about it.” He cursed his nerves for bringing out his stutter.

Sensei rested a hand on his head. With Izuku’s position in the zaisu and Sensei’s in his chair, it wasn’t much of a reach. “You don’t have to analyze that particular villain if you don’t want to. He’s been caught and taken to Tartarus. There hasn’t yet been a breakout from that prison. Practice on someone still at large. Perhaps this gentleman villain I’ve been hearing about lately?”

The light pressure on his head and confidence in Sensei’s voice were reassuring. He gave the man a weak grin before remembering he wouldn’t see it. “Thanks. I’ll look into that. You do make a good point.”

Sensei’s hand remained atop Izuku’s head through the next round, which was some sort of team event. Izuku had missed the explanation of the rules while thinking about what villain he might be able to analyze. They necessarily had less information circulating about them. Often, keeping the confirmed details of their quirks limited was part of how they evaded capture.

After much debate, he decided Sensei’s recommendation of Gentle was a great one, and probably the best place he could hope to start. Gentle had video evidence of many of his escapades online, though he annoyingly cut out much of the actual combat.

He shook off thoughts of the villain when something odd caught his attention. Togata—another of that year’s Big 3—was injured. The announcers did a quick replay of what had happened, though it raised more questions for Izuku than it answered.

Togata’s quirk let him phase through anything. So, why did his skin spark when he punched another team away? And how had he managed to break his arm doing it? He frowned and wrote those questions down for later. Maybe it was a classmate’s quirk? There were ally boosting quirks around, though he couldn’t recall offhand if any of Togata’s classmates had one.

Izuku’s attention was quickly snagged by Hado and a support student named Kenranzaki duking it out in another part of the arena. Talk about a catfight. Thoughts of Togata and his strange sparking faded in favor of trying to figure out what the beef between the two female students was.

---

The rest of the spring semester flew by, and Izuku was just glad that Katsuki had largely ignored him. Summer break was a breath of fresh air, even if it did get a bit hotter here than L.A. He kept up with his training and aikido as the months ticked by,
taking breaks to hang out with Tomura at the Shigaraki apartment or around town and finish his applications to UA and Ketsubutsu. He debated sending an application to Shiketsu too, but ultimately decided against it. That school still enforced a no Quirkless rule for their hero course. Even if he had a quirk now, the attitude rubbed him wrong.

Before he knew it, mid-July had rolled around, and he found himself and his dad celebrating his 15th birthday with their friends. There was lots of food, both Japanese and American, lots of laughter and storytelling, and a handful of presents. His dad got him a new, limited edition Hawks figure—Izuku had expressed less interest in All Might after the sludge villain incident, though he still admired the hero. Kurogiri got him a very well-stocked first aid kit. Sensei got him a high-quality pair of binoculars to “watch hero/villain fights without putting himself in undue danger.” And Tomura got him a new and obnoxiously bright red pair of sneakers and a small puzzle box.

“Why did you get me two things?”

“The shoes don’t count. I still owed you a new pair after…” Tomura glanced over at Izuku’s dad, who the two had vowed to keep in the dark about the decay incident. “What happened to the old ones.”

Izuku laughed nervously. “Fair. Now let’s see…” He tinkered with the puzzle box and chatted with Tomura. Meanwhile, the adults talked about Hisashi’s job and his continued battle with the Hero Commission to get his license changed. Apparently, heroes were in shorter supply than Izuku had thought, if the fight they were putting up about his dad’s license was anything to go by.

It took a good ten minutes of Tomura’s constant teasing for Izuku to figure out how to remove the first piece of the puzzle box. After that it was easier to figure out the rest. When he had the box disassembled, he blinked in surprise at a small case holding a pair of lockpicks.

“Are these legal?”

“Don’t look up the answer to that,” Tomura said with a mischievous grin. “Underground heroes sometimes use them.” When Izuku continued to stare at the gift skeptically, Tomura switched back to mocking him. “What? It’s not like your skinny ass could kick down a door.”

“Hey! I so could. I just got my blackbelt in aikido.”

“Still a twig.”

“Put on your gloves, and we’ll find out,” Izuku taunted. He did carefully tuck the lockpick case into his pocket though.

Chapter Text

This was it. The UA entrance exams. First up was the General Education written exam. It was held the same day as the hero exam, as a lot of people took both to have a fallback. Personally, Izuku didn’t think he needed to, but his dad had insisted. After all, he didn’t know what the practical part of the hero exam would be.

Izuku took a deep breath and adjusted the jo staff when it rested against his shoulder. He stepped through the gate that served as UA’s entrance. This was it. He was actually at UA. He could do this.

“What do you think you’re doing here, Shinso?”

“Spying on the future heroes, you villain?”

Izuku stopped in his tracks and found the source of the voices. Two boys and a cornered third boy with purple hair who clearly didn’t want to be there. Izuku’s eyes narrowed, and one fist tightened. Yeah, no, this wasn’t happening. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to take a picture.

“Hey, Shinso!” Izuku called, fast walking over. He threw the two bullies a big smile. Thankfully, one of those idiots used the guy’s name. “I was looking everywhere for you. Come on. We’re going to be late.” He carefully shoved one of the guys out of the way with his backpack and motioned for Shinso to make a break for the front door.

The purple-haired boy raised an eyebrow at him and took the opening to walk away.

Izuku turned to face the two and held out his staff to prevent them following. “Nuh-uh. You two are leaving him alone, or I’ll report you for bullying,” he said holding up his phone with the picture. He showed them briefly before taking a picture of their faces. He smiled at them once more, this one closer to the all-tooth promise of retribution he’d seen his dad give negligent teachers. Leaving the pair frozen, Izuku walked into the building in an even better mood than when he got up this morning.

The purple-haired boy was waiting for him inside. “Hey, uh. Thanks,” he said, glancing away partway through.

“No problem. Bullies suck,” Izuku said, rolling his eyes. Then he held up his phone. “Want me to send you the evidence pics in case they bother you again?”

Shinso’s eyebrows shot up, and he glanced between Izuku and his phone. “Uh, sure. May I?”

Izuku handed the guy his phone and waited as he texted the pictures to himself. “Do you know any self-defense?” Izuku asked.

Shinso frowned and shook his head. “Not unless surviving the bullies counts.”

Izuku laughed and took his phone back when Shinso held it out for him. “No. There is absolutely nothing you can learn from people like that. Might want to look into signing up for a class. Joint locks and throws are fun.”

Shinso chuckled at that. “Shinso Hitoshi.”

“Midoriya Izuku. Nice to meet you.” They started walking toward the classroom labeled for the exam while they entered each other as contacts in their phones. “So, you get grief because of your quirk too?”

Shinso flinched and frowned. “Yeah…Guess you’ll find out anyway. It’s a ‘villainous’ quirk…brainwashing.”

“Brainwashing?” After a moment for his brain to run through a handful of scenarios, he smiled. “That’s awesome! That would be amazing for hostage negotiation or underground hero work. You’ll definitely need to work on your physical combat to counter people who figure out how to get around your quirk though. Maybe a few support items too. I can definitely see you as a hero. You taking both tests?”

Shinso blinked at him, and his frown slowly turned into a hesitant smile. “Yeah. You?”

“Yep. My family has a history of delayed quirks. I was quirkless until a year ago. The bullies had a field day with that. Now I have Hyper-Processing. Basically, my nerves work way faster than normal. So, good reflexes and fast thinking. Drawback? If I get too worked up, my nerves might outpace my muscles and cause bad spasms,” he said scratching the back of his head. “If that ever happens, you have full permission to mind control me to tell me to quit being an idiot.”

Shinso laughed. “Well, we’ve both got our work cut out for us. Good luck.”

“Yeah. You too. Hopefully, the practical exam isn’t geared toward big, flashy quirks.”

“Wouldn’t put it past them,” Shinso scoffed. “If it is, we’re screwed.”

---

“We’re so screwed…” Izuku muttered while Present Mic explained that they’d be fighting robots. Why did it have to be robots? There was no point in even bringing his jo staff into the exam. It wouldn’t do any damage to metal bodies. Damn it. At least he’d get to see Shinso in Gen Ed if this went as badly as he feared.

Bakugo sneered beside him, knowing exactly what he was thinking. Thank goodness they were assigned to different testing arenas.

The bus ride to the testing area was simultaneously too long and too short. He ran through a dozen plans and settled on one that might just work, if he didn’t accidentally get shot or blown up in the process. Then he ran through all of them again. He wished he’d thought to bring his tools, though he doubted the school would have let him register actual tools as support gear.

As the bus stopped in front of a walled-off fake city, he frowned. Maybe he could find some tools inside. How realistic of a city had they built?

As the gate opened, he rushed in first. He needed all the time he could get. He sprinted down the street, dodging a 1-point robot, knowing one of his potential classmates would deal with it before he had a chance.

After a few minutes dodging bots, he spied a fake storefront for a hardware store and grinned. He kicked in the front door and rushed to the aisles. Only the endcaps were stocked, likely for show, but he found what he needed. He ran back out the door with a wrench in one hand and wire cutters and a handful of screwdrivers in his pockets.

The other examinees had caught up to him, leaving several disabled robots lying in the street. Perfect. He moved around the wreckage until he found a bot with one of its machine gun arms wrenched from its shoulder. He checked it over for further damage and smiled when that seemed to be the only thing wrong with the arm. He set to work messing with wires until he found the ones that caused it to fire. Sweet. He worked the wires enough to hold them in one hand and hefted the robotic arm. He didn’t have a lot of time left.

He focused on the higher point robots, simply because they were taller and gave less chance of hitting another student when aiming at them. After taking down 4 of the 3-pointers and a handful of the smaller bots that he found isolated, he started to worry. He couldn’t see any other bots left on the main streets, and his mobility was compromised with lugging the gun arm around.

Before he could formulate a plan, the ground shook, and Present Mic announced they had two minutes left. In fear and awe, they all watched as the 0-pointer—which was far bigger than any robot had a right to be—rounded the corner a block away. Everyone started running. Izuku had been one of the first to move, but he stopped when he heard a cry for help behind him.

He froze and looked back. A brunette was trapped under a pile of rubble. She couldn’t get out, and she was right in the robot’s path. Without thinking he took off, heading toward her. The other examinees looked at him like he was crazy, though the blue-haired boy with engines on his legs stalled out when he saw where Izuku was heading.

The world slowed down around Izuku as he sprinted. Would she be able to move? He’d seen her levitate a bunch of robots earlier. So why wasn’t she levitating the rubble? Did she have a weight limit? Quirk exhaustion? At least she was conscious.

Okay, plan. He needed leverage to get what looked like a concrete slab off the girl. Doable, hopefully. He didn’t like the idea of the rubble being above the girl’s weight limit; that would certainly put it past his. He leaned down to grab a metal pipe lying next to a pile of rubble as he passed. And if this didn’t work?

He’d think about it when it came to that.

The world sped back up as he reached the girl. He set the machine gun down and jammed the pipe under the edge of the slab trapping the girl’s foot. “Try to get out while I lift, okay?”

The girl nodded and he strained against the pipe. Nothing budged. Shoot. “Can you use your quirk to levitate the rubble?”

“No, it’s too many pieces, and I can only reach the one.”

Oh, it was a touch activation quirk? That gave him an idea. “Okay, make me levitate and hold it for ten seconds. I’ll try to distract that thing and lead it away.” Turning to the small group of examinees that had stopped to see what he was doing, he yelled, “We need a strength quirk over here!”

He picked up his machine gun without looking to see if anyone had listened to his plea for help and crouched beside the brunette. “Okay, ready.”

She touched the machine gun first, then him. Izuku felt weightless. He smiled reassuringly at the girl and launched himself toward the robot. As he flew past one of its legs, he opened fire, aiming at the joints. The bullets did little damage to the plating this behemoth had, but it seemed to get its attention. As he fully passed it to reach the street beyond, gravity returned all at once. He rolled on impact and sprung back to his feet, this time aiming at the lenses on the robot’s head. The sensors were all aimed at him, and they weren’t bulletproof.

He shot out three of the sensors before his weapon ran out of ammo or jammed. He didn’t have time to figure out which. He tossed the gun aside and dove out of the way of a punch from the robot. Pavement cracked and buckled behind him with the impact. Then instead of lifting its fist for another strike, the robot swung its arm to catch him where he landed.

He tried to move—run run run!—as soon as his feet connected with the ground, but in his panic his muscles seized instead. Present Mic called time at the same moment a wall of metal met Izuku's face.

He woke up hours later, judging by the sunset, in Recovery Girl’s infirmary in a hospital gown. The jo staff he’d left on the bus was leaning against the wall beside his bed; his backpack rested beside it. He groaned at the headache brewing behind his eyes and the soreness in his…everything.

He reached into his bag to find his phone. He texted his dad in case the school hadn’t contacted him, then texted his new friend. “Hey, I’m going to need that brainwashing after Recovery Girl releases me.”

Chapter Text

The next day and a half Izuku spent resting. Recovery Girl’s quirk really took it out of him. It made him wonder just how badly he’d been hurt. Part of him didn’t want to know.

He texted Shinso when he wasn’t sleeping, but Shinso gave him a pass on the brainwashing until after he’d recovered. They didn’t talk about the exam. They both knew they hadn’t gotten a lot of points. There was always the chance they could transfer in later.

All too soon it was the day of the Ketsubutsu entrance exam. He’d mostly recovered, but he did take another nap while his dad and he were on the train heading there. His dad went to check out some of the local markets while Izuku went inside to take his test. The written exam was up first again, then the practical.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw they’d be fighting other students and not robots again. There was a group of second and third year students who served as their opponents, supervised by the instructors. Izuku was in one of the later groups to fight, which was fine by him. He stretched and warmed up while waiting.

Eventually, a woman with seafoam green hair and an orange bandana called his name. “Midoriya Izuku?”

“Ah, that’s me.” He grabbed his jo staff and backpack before following the lady.

“I’m Fukukado Emi, and I’ll be overseeing your practical today. I’ll be pairing you up with one of my students to spar. Now, tell me about your quirk.”

“I thought you looked familiar! You’re Ms. Joke! I’ve seen some of your battles online,” Izuku gushed before collecting himself. At least he got a laugh and smile from the teacher. “Sorry. Right, my quirk, Hyper-Processing, makes my nerves work overtime. Fast reflexes and thinking, etc. My muscles aren’t enhanced though; they can have trouble keeping up if I really get going.”

Ms. Joke nodded, then eyed his jo staff. “You have martial arts training?”

“Yes. I’ve recently acquired my blackbelt in aikido, and my dad taught me some MMA. I still have a lot to learn though.”

“Hm…” Ms. Joke grinned as she looked over her students who were eyeing him like fresh meat. “Shindo, come over here.”

A student with dark brown hair approached them. Ms. Joke introduced them, then led the way to a practice field. “Alright, you’ve got ten minutes to pin or toss your opponent from the field. Quirks are allowed. No super moves and no serious injuries, please. The paperwork for that is no joke,” she added with a wink.

Izuku covered a laugh while Shindo rolled his eyes. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Shindo asked, popping his knuckles. “The more examinees I put in their place, the more extra credit points I get when the semester starts.”

“Well, that’s one way to encourage you to go all out,” Izuku muttered, shifting into a ready stance.

“And, start!”

Izuku stayed loose, watching his opponent, as he circled. Without knowing anything about his quirk—if he’d made it to second year, he had to have a strong one—he had no way to know if moving in for an immediate attack was a good idea or not.

Shindo didn’t give him long to wonder. The brunette slammed a hand down onto the ground, sending a vibration through the hardened dirt that nearly knocked Izuku off his feet. Okay, vibration or earthquake quirk. Probably needed to avoid his hands just in case he could use it on things besides dirt. That limited the pins he could execute.

Izuku charged in before Shindo could focus a more directional attack on him. Whether Shindo knew aikido or simply knew his own weak points, he didn’t let Izuku get too close, dancing back out of range of the jo staff aimed at his chest. Izuku for his part didn’t let up or give his opponent time to counterattack.

After the first few minutes passed, Shindo smiled. “Gotta say, you’re the best workout I’ve had all day, kid.”

Izuku nodded, acknowledging the compliment. Then he attacked again with a series of swipes from his jo staff followed by a jab.

Shindo surprised him by grabbing the staff as he dodged to the side. Shindo shot him a smirk. “But I’m not letting you win.”

The jo staff started vibrating violently, forcing Izuku to release it. He shook out his hands and tried to move in for a knifehand blow to the side of Shindo’s neck.

Shindo tossed the jo staff out of bounds and made a grab for Izuku’s wrist. Izuku refused to let a grin slip as he watched Shindo grab him. Izuku was already rotating and bringing his left hand up to put pressure on the elbow of Shindo’s right arm. Twisting further to the outside, Izuku grit his teeth as his right arm vibrated to near numbness. He just slipped his right wrist out of Shindo’s hold, immediately turning his hand to grab Shindo’s wrist instead, ignoring the pins and needles in the limb.

The momentary look of shock on the second year’s face was eclipsed by a grimace as Izuku continued twisting outside and down, taking Shindo with him until he lost his footing and faceplanted. He was in a shoulder lock before he got his other hand on the ground.

Izuku grinned and couldn’t help himself. “Who says I need you to let me?”

Ms. Joke laughed and called the match. Izuku released his opponent and offered him a left hand up. Shindo took it without meeting Izuku’s eye. Once standing he rotated his right shoulder and grumbled. Izuku took a step back and bowed. “Thank you for being my opponent today; you were quite challenging,” he said formally. After rising from his bow, he grinned sheepishly. “And thanks for not breaking my jo staff. That one was a present from my dad.”

Shindo let himself relax as Ms. Joke lifted his right arm to check him for injuries. “Thanks. You weren’t so bad yourself. You could use something to give you range though.”

“Yeah, and you could use some close combat training that doesn’t rely on your quirk. You could have beaten me pretty soundly with my own jo staff. I wouldn’t have been able to get past its reach easily.”

“Ha! Not a bad idea, Midoriya,” Ms. Joke said, dropping Shindo’s arm. “Go get some ice to put on that shoulder,” she told her student before turning back to examine Izuku. “Now, are you hurt anywhere?”

“Arm’s still a little numb from his quirk, but it seems to be wearing off,” Izuku said, shaking his right arm out.

Ms. Joke frowned and turned his head to look at something by his hairline. “Why’ve you got bruising here? Looks a couple days old.”

Izuku raised a hand to touch the spot and vaguely recalled that was the side the 0-pointer hit him on. He winced at the memory. “Yeah, blame that one on UA’s practical. Have I told you how much I appreciate that your exam doesn’t involve robots?”

For once Ms. Joke didn’t laugh. She frowned at Izuku and said, “They should have sent you to Recovery Girl if you were hurt.”

“Oh, they did. Apparently, it was pretty bad. I didn’t even realize that bruise was there until now. I’m just glad I didn’t keep any scars from that 0-pointer.”

Ms. Joke blinked at him then glanced at the bruise one last time before letting go of his head. “You have a mental quirk.” She took a deep breath and muttered, “I’m going to murder Maijima.”

“What?”

“Nothing!” Ms. Joke smiled. “If you don’t make it into the Hero course at UA, I’ll gladly take you, kid.” She leaned in close to whisper, “Just don’t tell anyone. Don’t want to be accused of playing favorites.”

Izuku chuckled nervously as Ms. Joke escorted him to the infirmary. He insisted he was fine, but Ms. Joke wasn’t having it. She told the nurse to check out his head and arm before walking off to get her next examinee.

The nurse let him go after giving him something that should speed up any healing he still needed to do. Rather than having someone on staff with a regeneration quirk like Recovery Girl’s, they had someone who was a genius at making medical support items and medications. Izuku was fascinated by the lady’s quirk and happily interrogated her until his dad arrived to pick him up.

The train ride home he spent writing about Shindo and the nurse’s quirks in his notebook. As he reviewed his notes, he thought about Shigaraki’s respirator. He wondered if there was a way to make a smaller, more comfortable model. He’d have to poke the support department at whichever school he got admitted to. Ms. Joke seemed pretty confident he’d gotten in at Ketsubutsu. Now to wait for UA’s verdict.

---

When he got home, he left to meet up with Shinso. They’d agreed on a ramen place in Kamino as a decent halfway point between their homes. Izuku spotted Shinso and waved a greeting before joining him at the booth he was sitting in.

“Hey, Midoriya, how was the Ketsubutsu exam?”

“It was fi—” Izuku’s brain slowed down, and he froze. Everything felt like he was feeling it through several layers of cotton, and it took longer for things to register. Huh, so that’s what Shinso’s brainwashing felt like. Not bad exactly, just odd.

“Sit down,” Shinso said with an amused grin on his face.

Izuku’s body obeyed without question, dropping into the open spot across from Shinso. Izuku’s mind raced with questions about how the quirk worked and what commands he could give.

“I can hear you thinking up questions from here,” Shinso said, rolling his eyes. Then he leaned forward to flick Izuku between the eyes.

That snapped Izuku out of Shinso’s control, and he smiled at his friend. “That was so cool! Not what I expected. I was still aware, but a bit fuzzy and…disconnected? It was weird, but not in a bad way,” he hurried to add.

Tension that Izuku hadn’t even realized was there drained out of Shinso’s hunched frame, and he slumped against the back of his seat. “Thanks for not freaking out. Now tell me about Ketsubutsu.”

Izuku regaled Shinso with descriptions of the campus and the quirks he’d seen. The fight he described in greater detail once he realized Shinso had no idea what aikido’s techniques were called. That led into a discussion of aikido in general.

Shinso was definitely interested, but when Izuku volunteered to put in a good word for him at his dojo, Shinso declined. He gazed down into his ramen bowl and frowned.

Izuku thought for a moment, realizing that Shinso had gotten one of the smallest ramen bowls on the menu. He’d only applied to the one hero school too, and it was the closest one, one he could commute to easily. “I could show you some beginner moves if you want,” Izuku volunteered. “Sometimes my sensei has me help demonstrate for the lower classes.”

Shinso grinned. “I’d like that.”

“Hey, us mental quirks gotta stick together,” Izuku said with fake bravado, earning a small laugh from Shinso. “In exchange for me beating you up, you can practice your quirk on me. I imagine you haven’t gotten a lot of opportunities to actually work with it, right?”

Shinso frowned for a moment, eyeing Izuku. Finally understanding that he was serious, he responded, “Yeah, not really.”

Trying to dispel his friend’s lingering discomfort, Izuku asked, “So, how’re your classes going? I’m doing great in English, but Japanese history is giving me grief.”

The two hardly noticed the time passing as they chatted about anything and everything—except the UA practical. Eventually, they were chased from their booth to make room for the dinner rush, and they continued talking on their way to the train station.

“I’m going to be pretty busy the next week or so. We could meet up after that?” Shinso asked.

“Sure. Sounds like a plan,” Izuku said. “Text me when things lighten up, and we’ll work out a time and place.”

Shinso nodded. His train was here. As Izuku started to walk towards his own platform, Shinso called after him, “Hey, Midoriya?”

Izuku stopped and looked back.

Shinso grinned again. “Thanks.” Then he slipped inside his train and was gone.

Chapter Text

Who knew an envelope could be so terrifying? Izuku held the sealed letter from UA in his hand as he walked up to the apartment. Ketsubutsu’s letter had arrived too, but the one from UA gave him a unique mix of expectation and dread.

He unlocked the empty apartment and stepped inside. It was a Friday. So, his dad would be home tonight, but he’d have to deal with the initial reaction on his own. He set the other mail in the basket on the table and lay the two letters side by side. He could do this. It was only two pieces of paper.

He swallowed and carefully tore open the envelope from UA. Instead of a paper, a small metallic disc fell out onto the table. He blinked in surprise before picking it up. He found a button on the otherwise smooth surface and pressed it, not at all expecting a holographic All Might to appear before him.

“Ah!” he yelled, dropping the device onto the table. The hologram moved with it. He listened with mounting disbelief as the recording played. He’d only gotten 16 villain points, but saving that girl had netted him 45 rescue points, which he didn’t even know existed until now. The combined total of 61 points put him high enough to pass the practical.

He laughed in disbelief as All Might went on to tell him he had scored in the top ten on the written test too. He was in. He was in the Hero course.

The letter from Ketsubutsu, though less flashy and far more traditional, was an acceptance as well. He had two hero schools that wanted him.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there staring through tears at the letter and the disc trying to comprehend how two great schools both wanted him, but he nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished the device out to see a text from Shinso. He’d gotten into UA too…in Gen Ed.

Izuku’s sense of victory soured at the thought he wouldn’t have any classes with his friend, that his friend hadn’t made the cut because of the biased practical, that his friend was probably downing himself right now because of those results.

Izuku scowled at his phone before an idea occurred to him. He hurriedly texted Shinso to see if he was free tonight. He scooped up both envelopes and their contents and carried them to his room, where he tucked them away in his desk drawer. He’d tell his dad tomorrow.

Shinso replied in under a minute. “Yeah, why?”

“Want to meet up to start that training? Only a few months until the Sports Festival.” It was well known that the festival was someone’s best bet for being noticed and transferred into the Hero course from another department. Izuku knew Shinso could be a hero. He just couldn’t give up.

The response this time was longer in coming. “Sure.”

Izuku texted him the location for Dagobah Beach, fairly confident that Tomura wouldn’t be around until tomorrow. He had a weird feeling those two wouldn’t get along.

Then he changed into his gi and hakama and packed some food and water bottles. He texted his dad on the way out the door to let him know he’d be hanging out with a friend and where. He was determined to get at least one smile out of Shinso before they called it quits tonight; it was the least he could do for a friend.

---

He had underestimated his dad’s reaction to hearing he’d made it into not one but two hero schools. What Izuku had hoped to be a relaxing Saturday quickly turned into an impromptu celebration with the Shigarakis, because of course his dad told them and they wanted to celebrate too. And it couldn’t be something simple and small and quiet.

Thankfully, he’d told his dad in the morning, because he dragged Izuku out the door less than an hour later in hiking clothes. Such a celebration required matsutake, and no overpriced, store-bought variety would do. So, they were going hunting.

It was late October, prime time for finding the rare and delicious mushroom, and his dad knew exactly where to look after having lived in Musutafu for a few decades. The mountains and forest outside the city provided a variety of habitats. It was too late in the season for eryngii, but we kept an eye out for the numerous other edible mushrooms that grew in the area.

It felt good to be out in the woods again. They hadn’t had a chance to go camping or hiking since returning to Japan, and Izuku had forgotten how much he missed it. Hunting for edibles was always fun too; they got to eat their work later. Most of the haul today was mushrooms, though they did find a Japanese snake gourd that still had a few fruit on it. A handful of matsutake, one large maitake, and a dozen shiitake later and they were headed home.

His dad sent Izuku straight over to the Shigarakis’ with their haul while he went by the store to pick up some other ingredients. Dinner was a thing to be remembered. Izuku had never had matsutake before, and after the first bite, he could understand why they were so pricey. They were well worth the hike.

After dinner, Hisashi surprised them with a box of mochi he’d picked up at the store. Tomura and Izuku enthusiastically stole half the box and retreated to the game console while the adults talked at the table.

“So, which one are you going to accept?” Tomura asked before popping another mochi in his mouth.

Izuku swallowed his own treat before answering. “I think I’ll go to UA. Ketsubutsu is really cool, and I like Ms. Joke, but I already have a friend who’s going to be in UA’s General class. Plus, it’s a lot closer.”

Tomura seemed to pick up on his lack of enthusiasm and paused the game to look at him. “Okay, what’s got you all mopey? You should be ecstatic right now.”

“I am! It’s just…my friend should be in the Hero course too. That practical was such bull. His mental quirk is amazing, but it couldn’t do anything against giant robots.” Izuku leaned back to stare at the cracked ceiling. “It’s not fair, and it’s frustrating, and I feel guilty for getting in when he didn’t.”

“Heroes have always been biased, pipsqueak.” Tomura gestured vaguely around them. “Look at that stupid ranking system. How many pro heroes in the top 50 have mutation quirks? How many in the top ten? It pisses me off when people think heroes are perfect when there’s so much evidence against that. If it’s not mutations, it’s mental quirks, and if it’s not mental quirks it’s ‘villainous’ quirks.” Bitterness crept into his voice as he talked.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Izuku admitted. He sighed. “I just wish more people could see how amazing and versatile those quirks are. The world needs more heroes like that. Not everyone is as perfect and flashy as All Might,” he said sarcastically.

Tomura laughed. “Oh, do I detect a hint of dissatisfaction in our number one hero fanboy? What happened to disillusion you?”

Izuku really didn’t want to talk about it, and he was saved from having to by his dad declaring it was time to head home. He was still running on the internal clock he kept at his teaching job, which meant getting up early and sleeping relatively early. The poor guy was yawning before the train was halfway home.

When they walked into their apartment, Izuku’s dad surprised him with a hug. “I knew you could do it, kiddo. You’re going to be amazing. Regardless of which school you choose, I want you to remember what you told me after the Ketsubutsu exam. You didn’t even use your quirk in that practical. You made it in there, not your quirk.”

Izuku teared up as he hugged his dad more tightly. “Thank you. I’ll do my best, and I’ll remember.”

---

Izuku kicked his training into high gear after that, only slowing down when he trained Shinso or hung out with Tomura on Saturdays. Lately that had been the only day they could both fit into their schedules. Tomura had been taking on more responsibilities at Sensei’s company and had less free time consequently.

While, yes, it sucked not seeing his best friend as often, it did make it easier to be sneaky about planning Tomura’s birthday party. He even got Sensei to arrange a wild goose chase to keep Tomura out of the apartment while they set up. Izuku and his dad snuck over as soon as Kurogiri gave them the all-clear. His dad set to cooking a mix of traditional and American foods while Izuku arranged presents on the table. Sensei insisted that he had a special present for Tomura that he would give him in private. So, there were only three, but Kurogiri’s looked big enough to more than make up for that.

Spring was here, and high school would start next week for Izuku, but he was far more excited about celebrating his friend’s 20th birthday at this point. Tomura wasn’t a teenager anymore. That was a big deal. It was also one of only two times Izuku had been here in person for his friend’s birthday. So, he considered his gift options for a long time before deciding. He hoped Tomura liked it.

After they were fully set up Kurogiri went to retrieve Tomura from his fool’s errand. When Tomura warped into the living room, he was still frustrated and wound up from whatever Sensei had him doing. Then he saw everyone gathered around the table with a cake.

“Happy birthday!”

After a moment of looking between his adopted dad and the others, Tomura’s shoulders sagged. “You just needed me out of the house, didn’t you?”

Izuku laughed while recording the reaction on his phone. He quickly put the device away when Tomura glared at him. “Surprise?”

Tomura grumbled before walking over. “You’re all lucky I like you.”

The grin on his friend’s face told Izuku all he needed to know. “What do you want to do first? Presents or food?”

Tomura shrugged. “Let’s get the presents out of the way first. They’re kinda in the middle of the table anyway.”

Kurogiri’s large box was a new gaming console. Tomura almost abandoned opening presents then and there to go set it up. Kurogiri promised to help set it up, but only after they finished the presents and ate. With that promise driving him, Tomura tore into Hisashi’s present to find a new pair of gloves that left all but two fingers open. They were made of some very thin, very breathable material, and they were designed to fit so well that the wearer could forget they were there. Then there was Izuku’s gift. He’d pulled a Tomura and gotten his friend two parts. The first was a spare controller for the new gaming system. The second was a tube of Detnerat skin cream. After all their time spent at Dagobah, Izuku knew just how itchy and dry Tomura’s quirk could make his skin.

When Tomura shot him a questioning look after picking up the cream, Izuku smirked. “Gotta take care of your skin now that you’re an old man.”

“Why you little!” Tomura yelled, feigning anger. He lunged at Izuku, who dodged out of the way while laughing. Kurogiri warped them one at a time onto the sofa to spare the table and food. Tomura caught him in a headlock after landing, but they were both laughing too much to actually fight. While Kurogiri moved the unwrapped presents off the table, Tomura whispered to Izuku, “Thanks.”

“I hope it helps,” Izuku said quietly, pulling out of the halfhearted headlock. “I noticed your skin seems to get worse the more you use your quirk.”

“You would.” Tomura ruffled his hair before shoving his head away.

Izuku went with the motion to fall over on the sofa, swinging his legs up to lay across Tomura’s lap and trap him. “That’s what I do. I notice things.”

“Maybe you should make your hero name The Noticer,” Tomura teased.

Izuku groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “I haven’t even thought about a hero name.”

“Eh. You’ll think of something, brainiac. You always do.”

Chapter Text

“1-A, 1-A, where is 1—ah! There it is!” Izuku skidded to a stop in front of the massive classroom door. Did they really need a door this large? At least they were accommodating to mutation quirks. That was already better than Aldera.

He opened the door and immediately regretted his assumption that this place would be any better than his middle school. Katsuki was already here, slumped in his own desk with his feet on the desk in front of him. Izuku sighed when he realized the desk number on his paperwork was the desk right behind his former friend.

Resigned to his fate, he started walking toward his desk but was stopped by several students surrounding him. After a few introductions, he realized that Iida, Uraraka, and Aoyama had all been in his entrance exam arena. Uraraka was the brunette he’d saved from the 0-pointer.

“I’m so glad you’re okay! Those robots carted you off before I even got to thank you,” Uraraka said.

“Yes, you were in a bad way, mon ami. I do not think I have seen so much blood before,” Aoyama added, looking a little ill at the memory.

Iida nodded with a grim expression. “Your quick action saved Uraraka from further injury at the expense of your own well-being. A true display of heroic values.”

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck. “Y-yeah…I would have preferred not being beaten to a pulp, but I did what I could. I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said to Uraraka, trying to ignore the growing snarl on Katsuki’s face behind her.

The arrival of their strangely tired and terrifying teacher forestalled further conversation. As soon as Izuku spotted the man’s “scarf” he knew exactly who their teacher was, but he contained his enthusiasm as he grabbed a gym uniform and raced his classmates to the locker rooms. Frankly, he’d been dreading the tedious and redundant orientation ceremony. He’d already read the student handbook and reviewed the campus map, though he did have a few questions about some of the outlying structures with less than descriptive labels. What the heck was a USJ, and why was it the single largest building on the whole campus? And why was it so far from the other buildings? He supposed he could always ask his teacher after class.

“We’ll be starting off with a quirk assessment test, and to keep things interesting, the lowest scoring student will be expelled.”

Though Izuku had to survive today first.

As Eraserhead—Aizawa Shota—explained the test Izuku bristled. Before he could think better of it, he asked, “You realize this is highly biased toward physical quirks, right?”

Aizawa raised an eyebrow at Izuku, meeting his gaze. “Yes.”

Izuku wavered under the pro hero’s gaze. This was the man who had taken down countless kidnappers, gangs, thieves, and dangerous villains single-handed. He hoped to never be on the receiving end of the man’s fury. So, he swallowed down his anger and tried to push the fear away as he said, “Well, as long as you’re honest about the bias. Gotta say it’s ironic coming from you, Eraserhead.”

The other students—who had stepped back and away from Izuku at some point—started murmuring. They didn’t recognize the name.

Aizawa blinked at Izuku, face as apathetic as ever. “Life isn’t fair, kid.”

“I know,” Izuku said with more bitterness than he intended, earning a pointed look from his teacher. He forced the emotion back and quietly added, “I’d hoped UA was better.” Shrugging, Izuku turned away from the underground hero and stretched. “What’s first?”

Izuku was used to not fair. He’d grown up without a quirk. He could deal. Didn’t mean he was happy about it though. UA was just like everywhere else. Sure, they had removed the quirk requirement on their admission tests, but it was clear they had no intention of actually letting someone without a flashy quirk stay. Maybe it was a good thing Hitoshi hadn’t gotten in via the exam. With his lack of training, he’d have been the shoe-in for last place today. Izuku at least stood a chance.

He gave the tests all his pent-up frustration and nervous energy. He didn’t place last in any one event, but most of the others had at least one test they excelled at. He could feel Aizawa’s eyes on him as he moved on from the long jump to the side steps. He went as fast as he could, racking up a decent number…until he tried to go a little too fast.

He fell as his left leg spasmed painfully. “Damn it,” he swore in English. He rolled over and rubbed at his twitching calf, grimacing.

Aizawa was already halfway to him when he noticed the teacher’s mild concern. “Midoriya, what happened?”

“Overdid my quirk,” Izuku said as he flinched against another cramp. “Takes a while for the nerves to wind back down after I get them firing too fast. I’ll be fine,” Izuku assured his teacher.

Aizawa didn’t look terribly impressed with Izuku’s attempt to brush the event off when he was still obviously in pain. The teacher rolled his eyes. They glowed red when he looked back at Izuku. “This might help.”

When Aizawa’s eyes landed on him, Izuku scrunched his own eyes shut as sharp pain stabbed at his skull. It lasted a moment before fading into a dull ache that left him a little hazy. Thinking hurt. But the nerves in his leg had reset. So, there was that.

“Not using my quirk on you again,” Aizawa muttered, crouching in from of him to see his face. “Problem child, you there?” He snapped his fingers in front of Izuku to get his attention.

Izuku blinked a few times and tried to focus on his teacher’s hand. Everything was a little blurry around the edges.

Whatever his teacher saw in his eyes made his usual frown deepen. “Yeah, you’re done for today.” He dug a tissue out of one of the pouches on his belt and handed it to Izuku. “Hold that to your nose and tilt your head back.”

Izuku complied, pulling the tissue back briefly to see blood. He had a nosebleed. Huh, that had never happened before.

Aizawa shoved his hand back to his face before standing. Looking around the field, his eyes locked on one of the students gathered to watch the interaction. “Iida, take Midoriya to Recovery Girl then come back out here.” He handed a slip of paper to the blue-haired boy before walking away.

Iida gave Izuku a hand up and steadied him when he swayed. They slowly made their way toward the main building. “Are you okay, Midoriya?”

Izuku grunted. After a minute of walking, he could string thoughts together enough to answer, “Pretty sure my quirk’s a mutation or augmentation affecting all of my nerves, brain included. Aizawa’s Erasure doesn’t seem to agree with me.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Recovery Girl started fussing as soon as she saw him. Izuku looked at Iida as he sat down on one of the infirmary beds. “Thanks, Iida. Go finish your tests. At least you don’t have to worry about being expelled now, right?” He offered his classmate a crooked grin.

Iida frowned. “Surely he won’t expel you because of a bad quirk interaction.”

Izuku halfheartedly shrugged as Recovery Girl shone a light into his eyes. His face scrunched up in pain at the bright light. “Life isn’t fair. Don’t worry about me. I’ll call Ketsubutsu later to see if they’ve got room for a late addition to their roster.”

Izuku wasn’t sure when Iida left but he wasn’t in the doorway when he finished blinking spots from his vision. He answered a few questions for Recovery Girl, and she gave him a kiss on the forehead. His nose stopped bleeding in an instant, but the pain in his head didn’t completely go away.

“You’ll want to avoid head injuries and mind-targeting quirks going forward, deary,” the elderly nurse cautioned as she handed him a few gummy candies. “They seem to be a weakness for you.”

“Not all of them,” Izuku said before yawning. “My friend has a brainwashing quirk, and I’m perfectly fine after that one.”

The nurse hummed and typed something at her computer. “Regardless, you can rest here until the end of next period.”

Izuku gratefully sank into the thin padding of the bed and threw an arm over his eyes to block the light. “Did Aizawa not mark in the system that I’m expelled yet?”

“Oh, you’re not expelled, Midoriya.”

Before he could correct Recovery Girl, Aizawa’s exact words replayed in his head.

“Yeah, you’re done for today.”

For today. If he was expelled, those two words wouldn’t have been there. Izuku grinned. Who knew Eraserhead was secretly a softy?

With that unlikely revelation bouncing around his sore skull, Izuku drifted off. Recovery Girl prodded him awake when the period ended and gave him a few painkillers before he left. He trudged back to the locker room, then the 1-A classroom.

Thankfully, it was lunchtime now. The only person in the classroom by the time he got there was Aoyama, who appeared to be enjoying a very fancy and very French meal brought from home. He offered the blonde a tired wave and collected his bookbag before heading for the cafeteria. He hoped food would help with the headache.

Food might, but the noise in the packed cafeteria made him back out as soon as he entered. He rubbed his temples and took a deep breath before taking the plunge again. One thing at a time. He focused on getting his food first, almost missing the fact that even the school chef was a pro hero. As he stepped away from the counter with his tray, he floundered. Where should he sit?

Hitoshi saved him, waving from a mostly empty table by the windows. Izuku made it over and set his tray down, slumping into the chair across from his friend. “Dude, you look like you got run over. Is Aizawa really that bad?”

“Eraserhead’s quirk doesn’t mix well with mine,” Izuku supplied before paying sole attention to his food.

“Wait. Aizawa is Eraserhead?! Seriously?” Hitoshi’s huge grin almost made Izuku smile. He’d learned very quickly that Hitoshi’s favorite hero was the only one with a power similar to his own.

“Hey, uh, mind if we sit here?” Izuku looked up to see Uraraka standing there with Iida in tow.

A glance to Hitoshi, who shrugged, and Izuku motioned to the open seats beside them.

“Thanks!” Uraraka said, beaming. “Are you feeling any better? We were worried about you.”

Someone across the cafeteria let out a shrill peal of laughter, and Izuku groaned. “Hitoshi, after I finish eating, can you brainwash me until it’s time to go back to class?”

“Don’t think that’s going to help with a headache.” He shook his head sympathetically. “Sorry.”

Ignoring the confusion about his brainwashing request, Izuku introduced his classmates to his friend. They exchanged pleasantries and left Izuku to his meal for a few minutes. Then he caught something from a neighboring table. The speech pattern and accent were familiar, and it took him a minute to place it. American English interspersed with very broken Japanese. He’d heard plenty of that when living in LA.

He sat up straighter and looked around, finally spotting the blonde responsible. She had horns and some mutation affecting the shape of her legs, though he couldn’t tell from this angle what species they took after. Her dark green eyes sparkled with the beginnings of frustrated tears as she tried to explain something to those sitting around her.

Without saying a word, he stood up and walked over to her table. He gave the group of unfamiliar students a shy smile before looking at the American. In English said, “Hi. I’m Izuku Midoriya. If you ever need or want help with Japanese, I can assist. I lived in America for a few years.”

The girl’s face lit up, and she smiled. “I’m Pony Tsunotori. And thank you so much. I’ve been trying to learn Japanese, but it’s not sticking very well.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll catch on pretty quick now that you’re immersed in it. I was hopeless my first six months in LA.”

“And who exactly are you?” One of the other students asked in Japanese. He had blonde hair as well, but grey eyes.

Izuku repeated his introduction in Japanese, and the suspicious blonde seemed to recognize his name. “You’re from class 1-A, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but if you ever need an interpreter, don’t hesitate to ask. Some of the teachers are fairly fluent too if you’re in class. I know Present Mic is, at least.”

They didn’t get very far with introducing the rest of their table before the bell rang. Afternoon classes went quickly, and Izuku’s headache died down to a simmering pressure by the time English class and the end of the school day rolled around.

As much as he loved Present Mic—Yamada Hizashi—Izuku wondered if he could skip the class. But what would he do then? He decided to use the period to get a head start on reading for Foundational Heroics.

He thought he’d been pretty discreet, but Yamada eventually caught him and called on him to answer a question. Izuku answered in lightly accented English, and the teacher smiled. He ignored the surprised looks from his classmates and sheepishly tucked his heroics book away.

After class, Yamada motioned for him to stay, instantly making Izuku nervous. “You’re pretty good with English for a first year, Midoriya.”

“Ah, thanks, Yamada-sensei,” he said, fiddling with the strap of his backpack. “I lived in America for a few years.”

“That explains it!” Yamada said, pointing at him. “You’re fluent, aren’t you?

Izuku nodded, nerves vanishing. “Tell you what, little listener, I’ll talk to the principal about getting you to take a test. See if we can bump you up to one of the higher leveled classes. I imagine this one’s pretty boring, huh?”

“That would be great! Sorry for causing a distraction earlier.”

Yamada waved him off. “Nah, you’re fine. Oh! Before you head out for the day, I think Aizawa wanted to talk to you. He should be back in your homeroom or the teacher’s lounge.”

And the nerves were back. Izuku didn’t have to look far to find his teacher. The telltale yellow sleeping bag peeked from behind the desk at the front of 1-A’s homeroom. Unsure exactly how to wake an underground pro hero without getting himself judo flipped, Izuku hovered in the doorway for a minute. Then he decided to try announcing his presence by rapping his knuckles against the wall. “Aizawa-sensei?”

The hero sat up, still bundled in his sleeping bag. “Midoriya. How are you feeling?” He extricated himself from the sleeping bag and moved to sit at the desk as if he hadn’t been asleep a second before.

Izuku stepped into the room, slightly unnerved by the abrupt change. He wondered if his teacher had even been asleep to begin with. “Uh, I’m fine. Headache lasted a few hours, but it’s mostly gone now.” There was still a bit of pressure behind his eyes, and he wasn’t looking forward to the noise of riding the train home. “Sorry for worrying you and interrupting class.” Izuku thought he saw a ghost of a smile on Aizawa’s face, but with it hidden behind his scarf, he couldn’t be sure.

“I should be the one apologizing, Midoriya. It’s not often I run into a quirk that reacts so negatively to Erasure, but given your file, I should have suspected.” Aizawa studied him for a moment longer before continuing, “But that’s not the only reason I wanted to talk to you.”

Izuku frowned and shifted from foot to foot.

“What you said in class…you have firsthand experience with the world’s unfairness, don’t you?” Aizawa asked in a gentler tone than Izuku had heard from him before. It still demanded an answer though.

Izuku gave his teacher a wry smile. “I spent the first 14 years of my life quirkless. You learn real quick what to expect. And now I have a mental quirk, and it’s great. But it’s still…”

“Irritating? Maddening? Illogical?”

“Yes.”

“And you still want to be a hero, despite that?”

Izuku stared at Aizawa. “What else would I be?”

“After being beaten down for so many years a lot of people give up on the system, try to change it from the outside, or attempt to destroy it altogether.”

Izuku paled a bit. “They become villains.”

Aizawa nodded. “You know better than anyone else in your class how broken things are, and you’ve chosen to be here,” he said, tapping his finger on the desk. “That’s the drive a hero needs. You’ll have to work twice as hard as people with physical quirks, but you have potential. That’s why you’re still in my class.” Aizawa stood and collected his sleeping bag before heading toward the door. “And if you ever need to talk to someone, I know Yamada and I have both faced prejudice. There’s also Hound Dog.”

Izuku thought for a second. “It’s not working twice as hard, Aizawa-sensei.”

Aizawa paused in the doorway to look back at Izuku.

“Just twice as smart.”

Aizawa huffed out a small laugh before leaving the room.

Chapter Text

“Oh, you did not say that to Eraserhead!” Tomura said.

Izuku responded from his facedown position on the sofa with a muffled “Yes.”

Tomura cackled. “How are you not dead?”

Izuku flinched and buried his face further into the pillow he’d claimed. “I don’t know, but I’m on my way there now…” The poor kid had shown up at Sensei’s apartment looking half dead. Apparently, headaches turned Izuku into a giant baby, and his quirk made him more prone to them. Eraserhead had simply tipped the scale.

Tomura ruffled his friend’s hair, earning a groan. “I’ll see if we have anything stronger than Tylenol lying around.” Tomura was frankly surprised that Recovery Girl’s quirk had done next to nothing for Izuku’s headache. He wondered idly if it was something unique to the quirk or something unique to how Izuku had gotten it.

Tomura searched through the dozens of discarded medicine bottles in Sensei’s restroom and found something that probably wouldn’t kill the pipsqueak. Walking back out to the living room, he was surprised to see Sensei standing next to the sofa, one scarred hand resting on Izuku’s head. Izuku was totally lax, one arm hanging off the edge of the sofa now.

Sensei stepped away from Izuku and motioned for Tomura to head back towards the end of the hallway. Once they were in the back room, Tomura closed the door, and Sensei said, “He’ll be fine. His body just needed a bit of convincing to rest.”

Tomura nodded and pocketed the pain meds for now. The longer he held the bottle in his hand, the more likely he was to accidentally dust it. “Should I have Kurogiri take him home when he gets back?”

Sensei shook his head. “Leave him be. The quirk only works as long as he isn’t disturbed. We can wake him up early tomorrow.” After settling into his padded chair and hooking up a few IV lines to ports on his arms and face, he turned his eyeless face back to Tomura. “Have you decided on an alias?”

Tomura internally groaned. He hated coming up with names. In videogames, he usually let his character take the default name. And now he needed a proper villain name, something that Izuku wouldn’t figure out the second he heard it. His friend was smart. Oblivious and naive at times, but smart.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, because lying to Sensei was never a good idea. “How’s it going with that coloring quirk?”

Sensei motioned for him to come closer. Tomura obliged. Sensei held a hand up to meet Tomura’s head as he knelt. Pale blue hair shifted to midnight blue to neon green to umber before returning to its original hue. “Seems to be working just fine.”

“I like that brown. The green hurts my eyes. Too obnoxious and bright,” Tomura said, crinkling his nose. “Dare I ask what you’ll do to Kurogiri?”

“Well, if you’re going for more subtle colors, probably something in the grey family.” Cruel amusement crept into his voice for a moment as he added, “Or perhaps a white or light blue.”

Tomura wasn’t sure what to make of the shift in his master’s mood, but didn’t have long to ponder it. Kurogiri walked through the door to join them. He closed it quietly behind him before asking, “Why is Midoriya Izuku asleep on the couch?”

They caught the mist man up before Sensei dismissed them. He’d never admit it, but Tomura knew the man still tired easily, despite the regeneration quirk he’d recently acquired. Tomura wished they’d been able to find one a few years ago. There was only so much the quirk could do with old and incorrectly healed injuries.

Tomura and Kurogiri walked through a warp gate to the bar they spent most of their time at. This was Tomura’s home, more so than the apartment anyway. Sensei liked his privacy and his space.

Tomura left the main bar for his room. He pulled on the pair of gloves Hisashi gifted him and opened the box on his worn dresser. Sensei’s gift. He brushed reverent fingers over the lightly armored costume. There was even a matching, black mask that Sensei had added after hearing about his and Izuku’s training at the beach. He’d tried the costume on the night of his birthday and been pleasantly surprised when all of his family still fit in place around the armoring and mask.

The only thing he disliked was the way the high neck on the shirt rubbed against his neck. He’d have to make sure to apply extra skin cream before wearing the costume in the field. And that time would come soon enough. Tomura sighed, thinking about all the work he’d have to do in the next few days. He knew it would pay off though.

---

“Wake up, pipsqueak! You’re going to be late!” Tomura yelled in Izuku’s ear. His friend hadn’t moved an inch from the position they’d left him in yesterday.

At the shout, Izuku flailed and fell off the sofa with a yelp. Tomura laughed as Izuku looked around in confusion. “Did I fall asleep here? I don’t remember falling asleep…”

“Yeah, you passed right out. How’s your head?” Tomura asked, offering Izuku a hand up. Izuku took it without batting an eye. That always made Tomura grin.

“A little fuzzy, but the headache’s gone. What time is it?”

“Eh, not too early. You should have time for breakfast before you have to run to the train station. Kurogiri can warp you if all else fails.”

Izuku stretched and yawned as they made their way to the kitchen. Kurogiri was already cooking something when they settled at the table. Izuku’s stomach growled loudly as they waited. The green haired boy groaned and set his head on the table in embarrassment.

“That’s what you get for sleeping through dinner, Izuku.”

“Shut up.”

Izuku became more talkative once they had their breakfast in front of them, talking animatedly about his first day.

“Bakugo? Isn’t that Kacchan, your old bully? How’d he get in?”

Izuku scoffed. “He got the highest score on the entrance exam.”

Tomura shook his head. “Your school has no taste.”

Izuku almost choked on a mouthful of rice trying not to laugh. He swallowed and took a drink before saying, “At least the rest of the class is nice. Iida is a bit of a stickler for rules, but he’ll quickly acknowledge when he’s wrong and apologize. Uraraka’s really nice too, and her quirk is crazy. I hope the balls Aizawa used for the test aren’t too expensive, because she sent hers into orbit.”

They chatted a bit longer before Izuku glanced at the time on his phone and got up to leave. “Thanks for letting me crash here last night. Guess I didn’t realize how worn out I was.”

That sheepish grin made Tomura want to ruffle Izuku’s hair into an even worse mess than it already was. The kid hadn’t moved all night. How did he have such horrible bedhead?

Tomura instead walked over to their shoes by the front door and tossed Izuku’s red sneakers to him. Then he slipped into his own worn, white pair. “Kurogiri, warp us near the train station.”

Izuku glanced up from tying one of his shoelaces to shoot him a confused look.

“I got nowhere else to be until later.” Tomura smirked. “And someone needs to make sure you don’t walk into a pole while you’re brushing that rat’s nest.” He pointed at Izuku’s hair. “Please tell me you’ve got a comb in your bag. And body spray. You smell like a locker room.”

Kurogiri warped them one at a time to an alleyway across the street from the train station while Izuku’s mortified rambling filled the air. He dug through his backpack frantically looking for the comb he claimed was in there somewhere.

Tomura listened good-naturedly and made sure Izuku didn’t miss his train while distracted. By the time they reached the stop near UA, Izuku’s hair looked…reasonable. From his mumbling, Tomura pieced together that Izuku was going to try to run by the locker room for a shower before class if he had time.

Tomura rolled his eyes and followed his friend silently, carefully eyeing the area as they walked. Sensei had impressed on him multiple times how important knowing your enemy’s territory was. When another student spotted Izuku and rushed over, Tomura dropped back and picked up a newspaper to hide his face while still listening.

“Hey Sero!”

“Midoriya, morning! Did you hear the rumor? Some 1-B students saw All Might enter the teacher’s lounge yesterday!”

“What? No way! Is he actually teaching? I thought they just had him record the acceptance holograms, being an alum and all.”

Tomura stopped on the sidewalk and watched Izuku and his classmate cross the street towards the UA campus. So, All Might was a teacher at UA this year? That explained why he’d been hanging out around Musutafu so much. Sensei’d had suspicions, but now they had confirmation.

Tomura smiled and turned at the intersection to walk away from UA’s gate. All Might working at the school made targeting him so much easier. After all, the number one hero couldn’t go all out if it risked hurting children.

They just needed a bit more information on the school to pick a good ambush location. He needed a schedule, maybe a schematic or two. He thought over his options as he walked the street parallel to UA’s towering campus wall. Getting through the wall would be easy enough. The problem would be doing so without being detected or arousing suspicion. He needed a distraction.

He slowed as flashing lights caught his eye. Down the next street police were loading some minor villain into a transport. A reporter talked to her cameraman nearby. Tomura grinned and tightened his grip on the newspaper, feeling it crumble beneath his touch. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Chapter Text

The rumors were true. All Might was their Heroics teacher. Izuku smiled just as much as everyone else, though he didn’t join in the excited chatter that followed his entrance. He instead watched the hero as he moved around the front of the room, trying to notice any signs of the injury he knew crippled the man. Izuku was impressed that the man hid his condition so well, especially given that it had worsened over the past year if the drop in rescues and sightings was any indicator.

Izuku blushed when he caught All Might studying him in turn. The hero recognized him. Izuku hurriedly looked away to stuff his notebook back in his backpack. They were doing practice battles today, and that meant they’d finally get to see the hero costumes they’d sent paperwork in for months ago.

He collected the case with his costume and raced his classmates to the locker rooms again. His costume was a green jumpsuit with armoring in the torso. The sleeves and legs were left fairly loose to allow for the range of motion his aikido moves required. A matching hood, utility belt, and a metal mouthguard completed the costume. He slipped his lock picks into one of the pouches on his utility belt then moved on. As for weapons, he had sturdy, steel toed boots, fingerless gloves with metal studs on the knuckles, and a collapsible jo staff. The weight of the staff—metal instead of wood—was all wrong and would take some getting used to, but at least it was balanced.

His father had helped him with the design when he was stumped. Every last one of his older costume ideas had been All Might themed. They’d simplified and combined a few of his earlier ideas to come up with the current rendition, though his father had insisted on one major alteration. All the materials had to be fireproofed. His dad told him a few horror stories of his younger days when his quirk was still new, and Izuku relented for his dad’s peace of mind.

Honestly, the alteration was pretty useful considering how often heroes helped with disaster relief. It did make the costume a bit heavier though. As Izuku walked to the practice field, he moved through a few katas, getting a feel for the outfit, checking for any pinching or restriction of movement. He decided he’d need to swing by the support department after class. The shoulders were just a touch too tight, though that was as likely a growth spurt on his part as a failure on theirs.

By the time he met up with the rest of his class, he’d moved on to practicing a few moves with his staff, trying to compensate for the increased heft. All Might’s eyes found him as he entered, and he almost fumbled his staff. As the students gossiped and speculated what the battle trial would be, All Might walked over to Izuku.

“Young Midoriya, I didn’t know you knew martial arts.”

Izuku chuckled, suddenly nervous. “It’s no good against robots. So, I didn’t get to use it at the entrance exam.”

All Might nodded. “You are certainly full of surprises, young man.” After a surreptitious glance around the room he leaned in to whisper, “See me after class.”

Izuku nodded numbly. What was it with teachers and wanting to talk to him? Had his ability to avoid the notice of bullies—and everyone else—completely vanished on entry to high school? Nothing for it now but to make it through class. He’d find out what All Might wanted to talk about soon enough.

He stretched while All Might outlined the scenario they’d be running through. It didn’t seem too bad. He suspected it might even be fun.

---

Oh, he was wrong. He was so wrong.

“Get back here, Deku!”

Of all the teams to be fighting, he got pitted against the team with Katsuki on it. His bad luck knew no bounds. Another explosion ripped through the hall behind him as he rounded a corner.

“Uraraka, come in. Have you found the bomb?” he asked between panted breaths.

“Yeah, it’s one floor up, in the room at the northeast corner. Iida’s cleared the space out though. I have nothing to use my quirk on.”

Izuku’s mind churned through possible plans at lightning speed. A few things could work, but which one all depended on—

The wall just behind him exploded, and Katsuki burst through the opening. “There you are!”

Izuku’s eyes widened as he rolled under an explosion. At such a short range, he could feel the heat through his armor. He spun into a kick aimed for Katsuki’s hip. Katsuki used a pair of small explosions to get out of range, and the chase was on again.

Izuku wound his way towards the northeast corner of the building, dodging blasts as he went. He quietly shared a few of the more likely plans with Uraraka as he moved.

“Hold still and fight me, dammit! I’m going to show everyone that I’m better than you!”

Izuku skidded to a stop in a room that was a dead end. Time to face the fire. He turned around in time to see Katsuki barrel into the room behind him. “Of course, you’re better than me, Katsuki. You came in first in the entrance exam. Uraraka and Iida scored higher than me too. I’m here to learn just as much as you are.”

Katsuki snarled and attacked. Izuku had to admit, Katsuki knew how to fight and how to use his quirk for more than just power hits. He was thoroughly impressed when the blonde used one explosion to both create a smokescreen and propel himself up and over Izuku’s counterattack. Even with his enhanced reflexes, Izuku couldn’t turn around quick enough to prevent taking an explosion to the back.

He rolled with the force, bringing himself back to his feet a few yards away from Katsuki. He rolled his shoulders, suddenly glad for his dad’s insistence on fireproofed costume materials. Then he dove back into the fray, this time with his jo staff.

He parried several blows and used his staff to redirect Katsuki’s gauntlets just enough to avoid further direct hits. As he hoped, the more blows he deflected, the angrier Katsuki got. He was debating how difficult Katsuki’s arm grenade things would make a shoulder lock when Katsuki backed off halfway across the room.

All of Izuku’s senses screamed danger at the smile Katsuki gave him. “You know, these gauntlets aren’t just for show, Deku. They store my sweat, enabling me to save it up for bigger blasts than I could make otherwise. Wanna see?” He pulled the firing pin from his right gauntlet.

Izuku was already running for the closest support pillar. Had Katsuki lost it? That big a blast indoors could kill someone. He slid behind the pillar and clamped hands over his ears as the floor burst with light and sound.

He didn’t remember falling, but he shook spots from his eyes and grimaced at the pain as he pushed himself up. The fingers on his right hand were burned along with his right wrist where his sleeve had fallen down when he covered his ears. He made a mental note to ask for longer gloves or bracers to wear under his sleeves.

He stumbled back to his feet, unsteady and ears ringing. There was blood dripping into his left eye. He wiped the worst of it away, finding a cut on his forehead. His face felt like it might be burned too, though not as badly as his hand and arm.

He shakily turned to survey the damage, holding his painful right arm against his torso. He had no clue where his jo staff had gotten to, the north wall was completely blown out, the floor and ceiling were scorched, and all the lights in the room had burst from the shockwave if they hadn’t been outright stripped from their moorings. And Katsuki stood at the epicenter of the blast looking quite pleased with himself.

Until he saw Izuku still standing. He barked out something, but it sounded very faint and far away. Izuku furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head before pointing at his left ear. “Can’t hear you,” he yelled. At least he thought he yelled. He’d be more worried about not being able to hear his own voice any better than Katsuki’s once the battle was over.

Katsuki was already on the move again, barreling toward him propelled by a series of small explosions. Izuku waited for him, feinting a punch before sliding right and around his opponent. He didn’t trust his right arm enough to lead with it in any pins. That left one plan. He waited for Katsuki to spin around to deliver another explosion.

Time slowed as Katsuki spun to face him, roaring with the attack. Instead of dodging, this time Izuku dove inside Katsuki’s guard, shoving his right arm up toward the ceiling as he did. He felt the blast more than heard it as he grappled with his former friend. Then something heavy hit Izuku in the center of the back, and he was down.

Chapter Text

Izuku came to in an increasingly familiar infirmary bed. He was really starting to dislike being knocked out.

He attempted to move and immediately regretted it, groaning at the pain radiating from his back. The haziness that meant high strength pain meds didn’t quite block it. He decided to take stock as best he could without moving instead.

He wiggled his toes, then rolled his ankles one at a time, working his way up. There was a twinge at one of his thighs, and he wondered how he’d managed to get hurt there. Next, he discovered that his right hand and arm were bandaged. He did remember getting burned, and he could suddenly identify the mixed smells of antiseptic and singed hair. A small prick at his left hand when he attempted to move it and the general chill in that arm told him he was hooked up to an IV drip. His throat felt dry, and the left side of his forehead pulled funnily when he moved his eyebrows. He could hear a heart monitor beeping, which reassured him whatever harm his hearing had taken was likely temporary. Then there was his back. Given that he could feel and move everything else, and it didn’t hurt to breathe, he assumed it was a bad bruise, maybe a cut.

He carefully rolled his head to one side to look around the room. He was alone, but he could see shadows moving under the closed door. He cleared his throat and tried to alert whoever was there. “He-ello?” His voice was more tired and small than it usually was.

The door opened, and Recovery Girl and All Might entered the room. All Might deflated as soon as the door closed behind them, and Izuku frowned. “You’re thinner than last year…”

Recovery Girl let out a single, mirthless laugh where she adjusted something on his IV pump.

All Might looked abashed as he settled into a chair next to the bed. “How are you feeling, Young Midoriya?”

He gave his teacher a lopsided smile and said, “Like a building fell on me.” Oh, they had him on the good pain meds. He was loopy.

Recovery Girl tutted at him and walked over to the sink to get him a glass of water. “Take small sips, dearie. You can try talking more after.”

He drank a third of the glass before she pulled it away. He coughed once before asking, “Is everyone else okay?”

All Might let out a breath and gave him a reassuring grin. “A few bumps and scrapes, but everyone else is fine. Bakugo would have been worse off, but you shielded him with your body when the ceiling collapsed.”

Izuku couldn’t remember if he’d done that on purpose or not. He decided it didn’t really bother him either way. He relaxed against the bed as All Might told him about the rest of the class. He’d apparently been out for the remainder of the school day. All Might had just arrived after the last of classes let out.

After a few minutes of silence, All Might asked, “What is your relationship to Young Bakugo? He was solely focused on you from the start of the exercise, despite the danger Uraraka posed. He wasn’t terribly forthcoming when I talked to him.”

Izuku smiled, imagining the teen cursing and telling All Might to mind his own business. “That’s just Kacchan for you. His baseline is angry, whether that’s his quirk or personality or some combination of the two. When we were little kids, and I was quirkless, he was a bully. After moving away for five years and coming back, he mostly left me alone.” He started to shrug then stopped when his back hurt. “He might still be upset about having to be rescued from that sludge villain. He doesn’t like anyone to think he’s weak, and he’s always been competitive.”

All Might hummed and held his chin in one hand. “I’ll be talking to Aizawa and Nezu about him later. Regardless, he won’t be getting those gauntlets back any time soon. I don’t know why Power Loader signed off on something so powerful for a first year.” He shook his head.

“I think even he was surprised by how big that blast was.”

“Yes, well, he’ll need to be much more careful in the future. He nearly deafened you,” Recovery Girl said, rare anger in her voice. Turning back to face him, she continued, “We’ll run you through a hearing test next week to assess any long-term damage. The burns on your right arm and the cut on your forehead will scar to some degree, but your back should feel better after another treatment or two. I’ve done everything for you that I can right now. Your stamina was pretty drained by the time you got here. Do you have anyone who can pick you up today?”

Izuku thought for a moment, trying to remember what day it was. “My dad works in Tokyo during the week. He won’t be back until Friday night…Is Kurogiri on my sign out list?” At All Might’s questioning look, Izuku added, “He’s a family friend.”

Recovery Girl checked on the computer and frowned. “No, only your father.”

Izuku frowned. “Then no. Do I have to spend the night?” He really just wanted to go home, take a hot shower, and collapse into bed. Oh, and eat. He’d missed a meal yesterday. He shouldn’t make that a habit.

All Might chuckled. “I can bring something back for you. It is nearly time for dinner. We can talk some more after you eat.”

Izuku blushed, realizing he’d been mumbling again. He nodded.

“Do you want anything, Chiyo?”

Recovery Girl waved him off. “I’ll get something after you’re back. I need to coordinate with the others to see who can stay tonight.”

After All Might left, Recovery Girl ran Izuku through a check-up, mostly reflexes and mental function tests. After hearing his back still hurt too much to move, she promised to up his pain meds after he ate. Then she was typing away on her computer, updating his file. “I suspect you’re still feeling pain because of your quirk. Your nerves fire far more than someone with a non-neural quirk. Pain signals included. The meds are having trouble keeping up.”

“Lovely.” After a minute, he frowned and asked, “Then why isn’t my hand killing me?” He raised his right arm for emphasis. It was still pretty numb under the padded layers of cotton and gauze.

“I gave you a local block before I removed the dead tissue and did a skin graft. It should last a few more hours.”

His stomach turned at the idea his burns had been bad enough to need a graft. He gave a nervous chuckle. “Guess it’s a good thing my costume was fireproof, huh?”

“Indeed.”

After that Izuku dozed until All Might returned and woke him with a bony hand on his shoulder. “Do you like takoyaki?” he asked, holding up a takeout container.

“I’m hungry enough I’d be happy with a gas station hotdog,” Izuku said, attempting to sit up before remembering how bad an idea that was. “Ah!” He grit his teeth and rode out the pain.

“Oh! Here, let me find the bed controls. Sorry,” All Might said, fumbling for something on the side of the bed. He set a small remote next to Izuku’s left hand.

Izuku slowly elevated the bed, wincing when his back acted up. He decided it was good enough when he got halfway to sitting. “So,” he said shakily. “Did Recovery Girl work out who’s babysitting?”

All Might handed him the opened container and some chopsticks before answering. “We’re doing shifts. I’ll watch you until midnight; then Aizawa will take over.”

“At least Aizawa will have an excuse to get a few consecutive hours of sleep, right?”

All Might guffawed, then had a coughing fit.

Izuku winced in sympathy when he saw blood on the man’s hand. “You’re getting worse, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.

“Some days are worse than others,” he admitted tiredly. Then he took a deep breath and smiled. “But never fear, Young Midoriya. I’m not going anywhere just yet.”

Izuku gave him a hesitant smile in return and picked up another takoyaki. “What did you want to talk to me about, All Might-sensei?”

“Ah, when we’re in private you can call me by my name, Yagi Toshinori.” When he saw the wide-eyed look on Izuku’s face he chuckled. “You’re trustworthy, Young Midoriya. If you were going to tell someone my secret, you would have by now…especially after how I treated you.” Yagi looked away and swallowed. “I…wanted to apologize.”

Izuku nearly choked on his bite of food. A firm—and excruciating—thump on the back and he could breathe again.

“I should not have judged you so quickly when we first met. I spoke harshly. Then you proved me wrong by risking your life to save someone who I now know was your former tormenter. None of the other heroes moved, but you did. Even I was frozen on the sidelines, at my limit for the day. Your actions inspired me to move again despite those limits.”

Yagi looked back up from the floor to meet Izuku’s eyes. “I was wrong. In that moment, you showed all the potential of a great hero.”

Izuku was not crying in front of All Might. Totally not.

“I tried to find you afterward, but you vanished. I searched for a few days but had no luck.” Yagi shook his head.

Eager to take that look of disappointment off his hero and teacher’s face he said, “Oh, you wouldn’t have. The hospital kept me overnight to treat my lungs. Then I spent a few days at home dealing with pneumonia.” At the alarmed look Yagi shot him, he added, “I should have listened to you and waited for the ambulance the first time. If I hadn’t grabbed your leg, you wouldn’t have lost the sludge villain, and it wouldn’t ha—”

“How about we both agree to not dwell on what ifs?” Yagi suggested gently.

“Okay, sure.” Izuku set the matter aside, but not before saying, “Apology accepted.” Izuku thought he saw something akin to regret cross Yagi’s face, but it was gone when he blinked. He shrugged off the moment and went back to eating his dinner.

“Oh, to be clear…does Recovery Girl know your secret?”

“Yes, she and the principal know. They’re two of my oldest friends.”

“Okay, good to know.”

As promised, Recovery Girl upped his dose of pain medication before leaving for the evening. Within minutes Izuku was all sorts of foggy. Before he let himself sleep though, he asked Yagi to hand him his phone from his backpack. He texted his dad and Tomura and replied to messages from Uraraka, Iida, and Shinso, assuring them he was alive. That done, he let the pain meds and exhaustion take him.

He jolted awake somewhere in the early hours of the morning when he moved wrong in his sleep. The nerve block in his arm had worn off, and it felt like the nerves were on fire all over again.

He must have made some sound to indicate his distress, because the light flicked on a moment later. Aiwaza stood there watching him closely, abandoned sleeping bag lying at his feet. “Pain or nightmare?” he asked simply.

“Pain,” Izuku ground out. “My arm…”

Aizawa nodded, moving to the counter where Recovery Girl had set a tray before she left. Izuku hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. Aizawa picked a syringe up. “Chiyo said you might need this. You okay with needles?”

“N-not really, but I’ll t-take it over the pain.”

Aizawa nodded. “Try not to look then. It’s another block. It’ll hurt at first, but it should kick in pretty quick. I’d know; I’ve had to patch myself up a few times while patrolling.”

Izuku nodded, turning his head to face away from his teacher and closing his eyes. He tried not to cry as Aizawa put a tourniquet around his screaming arm and swabbed his skin above the bandage. A sharp pinch and a deep sting followed. After a few seconds, he remembered to breathe. He didn’t open his eyes until he felt the tourniquet leave his arm.

When he dared to look at Aizawa, the syringe was gone. The teacher eyed him for a moment. “Better?”

His arm still hurt, but it was fading. It was getting harder to feel anything below his elbow. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Good. Try to get some more sleep.” Aizawa turned the light off and shuffled back into his sleeping bag.

Izuku lay there in the dark, but despite the continued fuzziness from his meds, he didn’t seem able to nod off. After a few frustrating minutes, he picked up his phone and checked his messages. There was a lot of well-wishing from his class who all appeared to have his number now, Shinso jokingly asking if he’d like Bakugo to walk off a bridge for no apparent reason—no—and Tomura asking if he needed someone to break him out of UA—also no.

His best friend was mad he’d gotten hurt two days in a row. Izuku was very grateful he didn’t tell Tomura who had hurt him, because while Shinso joked, Tomura acted.

Izuku rubbed his eyes. He had a feeling he’d be dealing with a lot of mother henning when he went home.

His dad’s message worried him the most though. “I’m coming home Thursday night.” His dad mincing words usually meant bad things for those he was mad at.

“Hey, um, Aizawa-sensei?” he whispered.

“You should be sleeping, Problem Child.”

“Is your capture weapon fire-resistant?”

Chapter Text

The next morning, Recovery Girl brought breakfast to the infirmary with her. She even forced Aizawa to eat some “real food” before letting him leave. While Izuku and Aizawa ate, Recovery Girl removed the bandages from her charge’s blissfully numb arm.

Izuku lost his appetite when he saw the damage. He’d been burned worse than he thought. He could tell where his glove had been; it was the only normal-looking skin. The back and sides of his fingers past the protection of his gloves were an angry reddish pink, and a few of the fingernails on that hand were broken. His forearm had taken the worst of it; the graft had been stitched in just below where his glove ended. Izuku swallowed and looked away as Recovery Girl carefully prodded the healing skin.

Izuku caught Aizawa inspecting the injury too. “Think he’ll be able to make it to classes today?” The teacher finally asked.

Recovery Girl frowned. “Not this morning at least. I want to wean him off the pain medication and make sure his back and hand are tolerable. He certainly won’t be up to taking notes for a few days.”

Aizawa hummed. “I’ll have someone record audio of his lectures. We’ll work something out for any missed assignments later.”

Izuku sank into his pillow, annoyed to be falling behind so early in the year. “Thanks, Aizawa-sensei.”

Once Recovery Girl was satisfied that things looked as they should, she gave Izuku a kiss. And he was out like a light again.

He was less fuzzy when someone shook him awake for lunch. He blinked in surprise when he found Shinso, Iida, Uraraka, and a hesitant Ojiro standing in the infirmary with their lunches. “Guys? What are you doing here?” he asked while rubbing his eyes.

Uraraka was the first to answer, “We came to see you!”

“Recovery Girl was gracious enough to allow us, so long as we ensure you eat a full meal while we’re here,” Iida added.

“Apparently, someone didn’t eat all of their breakfast.” Shinso raised an eyebrow at him.

Izuku fiddled with the controls for his bed and avoided his friends’ eyes while flushing. He coughed then asked the last member of the group, “You’re Ojiro, right?”

The tailed student grinned and nodded. “Yes, I wanted to see how you’re doing as well. I didn’t recognize you at first, but seeing you fight Bakugo, I remembered. You were at the aikido competition last year.”

Izuku’s eyes widened, and he smiled. “You’re the guy who took first place! How did I not recognize you?! Haha. It’s great to see you again.”

“Oh, you guys know each other?” Uraraka asked.

“Yeah, Ojiro beat me. That tail is a menace in a fight,” Izuku joked, pointing at Ojiro with his rebandaged right hand. He paused in the middle of the gesture, realizing he could feel his arm again. It still hurt, and he could feel the sutures tugging if he moved the wrong way, but it was much better than last night. The new bandage was a lot lighter and stopped partway up his hand, leaving his fingers visible. He cautiously flexed them, wincing as the too-pink skin pulled taunt. Yeah, he didn’t think he’d be writing with that hand for a little bit.

Shinso shoved a tray of food into Izuku’s lap. “We can catch up while eating. Recovery Girl can’t heal you if you don’t have the energy.”

Iida and Ojiro took the two chairs in the room, Shinso claimed the foot of Izuku’s bed, and Uraraka sat on the empty bed next to his. They ate and Izuku listened as his friends recounted the battles he’d missed yesterday and their classes this morning.

“Oh! That reminds me,” Iida said, opening his backpack. He pulled out a charge cable and a small voice recorder. “Yaoyorozu made this for you.” He handed the cable to Izuku. The charger was the exact kind his phone needed. “And I volunteered to record your missed classes.”

Izuku beamed at his friends. “You’re all the best. Tell Yaoyorozu I said thank you?”

“Of course. And if you need any help with the math homework, I’d be happy to assist. I have doubts as to how clear the lecture will be without visuals.”

“I really appreciate it. As soon as I can write again, I’ll take you up on your offer.” He held up his right hand and wiggled his damaged fingers.

Shinso very gently grabbed Izuku’s hand and turned it over to see the fingers better. “Hm…at least the blast missed the palm side.” Shinso released his hand and thought for a moment. Then he gave one of his signature smirks. “Maybe I should thank Bakugo. I might actually stand a chance against you next time we spar.”

“I could still pin you with one hand tied behind my back,” Izuku said. “Though if you think I’ll be too easy an opponent while I heal, I could always ask Ojiro to stand in for me.”

Shinso’s smirk vanished. “Yeah, no. I’m good.” Izuku and the others laughed at Shinso’s reaction. “Seriously though, you sure you don’t want me to have a talk with the Party Popper?”

“No! You’ll get in so much trouble.”

“Only if I get caught.”

“…No.”

Possible plots of revenge aside, Izuku really enjoyed his friends’ visit, though it ended all too soon. They still had afternoon classes. Iida took the recorder with him, leaving Izuku with only his phone and backpack for entertainment, and the backpack was infuriatingly out of reach with the limitations imposed by his IV. He had almost decided to look up the phone number for the school’s front office to see if someone could come to the infirmary to hand him his bag when Recovery Girl returned.

“Ah, someone seems livelier. See what a full meal can do for you?”

Izuku scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, sorry for this morning. Just kinda…” He held up his right arm, trying to think of how to phrase it.

Recovery Girl shook her head. “You’ll develop a stomach for it eventually. I suppose I shouldn’t have expected it from a first year student on their second day.”

Izuku paled as he realized how right she was. Eventually, he’d be a hero. He and his classmates would have to deal with disaster relief, villain attacks, casualties. He wondered if he’d one day be as jaded as Aizawa. But then, Aizawa wasn’t so cold as he would have people believe. Aizawa, for all his harshness, cared. Izuku then thought of All Might who tended to wear his heart on his sleeve. Even he, behind his fake-fearless smile, was a cynic at times but tried to hold up hope for others. The realist and the idealist.

Which would Izuku become when he was a hero? He supposed it might be one of those things that would have to be learned in doing. When the chips were down, who would he be? Part of him dreaded finding out, and the rest couldn’t wait.

“I’ll get used to it,” Izuku finally said, tearing his eyes away from his burned hand again.

“Sadly, you will,” Recovery girl agreed. “How’s your pain right now?”

“A lot better than last night. I can sit up now, and laughing earlier didn’t hurt.”

“Good. I can take you off the IV meds then. Feel up to walking around?”

Even if he couldn’t take notes right now, he liked the idea of returning to class, if only to have something to do. “You bet!”

“Don’t go getting too excited, dearie. You’re not going back to classes today. I want to make sure you can get around well enough to send you home. Otherwise, you’ll be spending the night again.”

“Oh.” He frowned. “Could I walk to the Development Studio and back? I wanted to see about changing my costume up a bit to prevent a repeat of this.”

Recovery Girl thought about it for a moment before grinning. “Yes, I think that will do nicely. Higari will make sure you don’t overexert yourself, especially with Fukukado’s threat hanging over his head.”

Izuku couldn’t make heads or tails of that comment, but he wasn’t going to complain about getting out of the infirmary for a bit.

Recovery Girl took out Izuku’s IV and watched him with a critical eye as he took a few hesitant steps. Seeming satisfied, she waved him off.

Ten minutes later he stood outside one of the doors marking the entry to the Support course’s domain. He started to raise his right hand to knock, but caught himself and switched to his left for the action. The door slid open a minute later to reveal Power Loader in the flesh. Izuku allowed himself a few second to internally fanboy, because this was The Power Loader, giant helmet, metal-tipped fingers, and all! One of the only people in Japan licensed as both a pro hero and a minor support item developer. Yeah, he still had to send off to have the more complicated pieces manufactured and a few weapon types he wasn’t certified to make, but his skills were nothing to sneeze at. And if the online forums were to be believed, he was also the one responsible for making all of the robots he’d fought in the entrance exam.

“Hi, Power Loader-sensei,” Izuku greeted, bowing. “I’m Midoriya Izuku from class 1-A. I was wondering if I could talk to someone about making some changes to my hero costume.”

Power Loader stiffened at his introduction, and Izuku wondered what he’d said wrong. The tension was broken by another person sliding into the doorway to ask, “Did someone say upgrades?” The girl appeared to be Izuku’s age or close to it and wore a manic grin and steampunk goggles that suited her just as much as her pink dreadlocks.

“Um…yes?”

The girl grabbed his left arm and pulled him into the workshop. “I’ll take care of him, Maijima-sensei!”

Power Loader stopped her before she got far. “Hold on, Hatsume. Midoriya is injured. So, no explosions or experimental equipment!”

Hatsume seemed to notice Izuku’s appearance for the first time, pausing to inspect him. She frowned when she saw the bandages still on his right arm and forehead. “Alright, a light tour and consult then!” She declared, enthusiasm returning. She—more slowly—dragged him over to a work station and pushed him into a seat. Then she ran over to another table to start digging through contraptions and blueprints.

Maijima sighed and stayed close by, mumbling, “Ms. Joke will have my head if he gets hurt again.”

Izuku perked up at the name. “You know Ms. Joke?”

“Yeah, Midoriya, I do. And she seems to have taken a liking to you. Must have made quite the impression.”

Izuku blushed and scratched his head. “I didn’t do much. Just sparred with one of her second year students at the entrance exam.”

Maijima hummed. Before anything further could be said, Hatsume returned with a tablet and a stylus that looked suspiciously like it might also double as a laser or knife. Maybe both. “Alright, introductions! I’m Hatsume Mei, soon to be the world’s leading support item developer. I pulled up your costume’s specs. What did you want to change?”

Izuku took a moment to process, then said, “Nice to meet you, Hatsume. I actually wanted to change a few things. The costume’s a bit tight through the shoulders. Also wanted to trade out my fingerless gloves for ones with closed fingers…for obvious reasons.” He tried to grin, but it came off as more of a grimace. “And I wanted to either make the gloves longer or add bracers to protect my forearms.”

While Hatsume scribbled notes on her tablet, Maijima pointed to his arm and asked, “How bad’s the damage? If the skin’s still sensitive, we could add a lining to decrease any chaffing.”

“That’s probably a good idea. I still have a few treatments scheduled with Recovery Girl, but she’s pretty sure it’ll scar…not to mention the skin graft.”

“Add that anti-friction lining,” Maijima said to Hatsume who nodded as she wrote.

Hatsume’s eyes narrowed as she looked at something on the tablet. “Hyper-Processing? That’s a mental quirk, right? Ever think about a helmet? Or you sticking with the hood?”

Izuku blinked. “Uh, actually hadn’t thought of that. It’s not a bad idea, but…” He thought back to the last time he and his dad had sparred. They’d been trying out a few gyms around town, and the latest gym required protective equipment to use their boxing ring. The foam and leather helmet had about driven him insane. He wasn’t sure if he could blame his quirk or his hair for that one. Either way, it had been incredibly uncomfortable and distracting. “My head seems to be a bit sensitive to pressure.”

Maijima nodded. “Shota’s the same. Completely refuses to even let me try to make him protective headgear.”

Izuku felt a little better hearing that was apparently a common problem with mental quirks.

Hatsume took it as a challenge. “Hah! Just because it hasn’t been done yet doesn’t mean it can’t. You’ve never had Mei on the case!” She gave Izuku one of her manic grins. “When I make one, will you at least try it out?”

“Sure.”

They chatted for a bit longer, and Hatsume took some measurements of Izuku’s head. Izuku was starting to get a little tired by the end of it, but he’d had a secondary reason for coming by the Development Studio. “There was one other thing I wanted to ask about that doesn’t involve my hero costume.” That seemed to catch their attention. “Do either of you have any experience with medical equipment?”

Hatsume shook her head, but there was keen interest in her eyes.

Maijima tilted his head slightly. “Not much. We do have Recovery Girl on hand. Why do you ask?”

“I kinda wanted to see about making something for a friend—well two friends. It wouldn’t be for hero work.” Izuku frowned for a moment, wondering how much to say. “They are close family friends of mine, and they were badly hurt in one of the Toxic Chainsaw attacks. They lived, but one’s stuck on a respirator constantly, and the other can’t use their quirk now without it seriously taxing their body. I was wondering if it would be possible to commission something for them…”

Maijima frowned and carefully scratched his chin with one metal-tipped finger. “If it’s not for a student or a hero order I won’t have time to work on anything personally. If one of the students wants to help you, you can work something out with them. Feel free to swing by on your free period. Just don’t get yourself hurt while you’re here, and let Chiyo take a look at the designs before you make a final model.”

Izuku nodded, undeterred. Judging by the look on Hatsume’s face, he already had a support student interested in the project.

Chapter Text

Hatsume readily agreed to help him with the two projects, and in exchange, he’d help her with testing some of her other inventions—once Recovery Girl cleared him for strenuous activity. As the heroine treated him the next morning, he wondered just how long that would be. She hadn’t knocked him out this time when she healed him, but he was still drained.

He sat there in a daze as she checked his back and removed his bandages and stitches. Once the last stitch had been pulled, she handed him a mirror. There was an even, slightly indented scar above his left eyebrow. The silvery thing was two inches long. He rubbed it before handing the mirror back. He had a matching scar on his thigh from the skin graft.

He was far more concerned about his hand and arm. The wrinkled and pink scar tissue there felt tight and stiff. The patch of relatively normal skin from the graft stood out like a sore thumb against the surrounding pink. Nerve sensation in the burned areas was muted too. Funny, because the nerves hadn’t been able to shut up before.

The rest of first period was spent learning a few physical therapy exercises and how to take care of his scars at home. She finally let him go to class after handing him a compression sleeve for his arm.

He walked into Ectoplasm’s math class a few minutes late, much to the joy of his classmates. Ectoplasm let them talk for a few minutes before calling them back to order. It felt good to be back, even if he was still sitting behind Katsuki and had no clue what the problem Ectoplasm was working through on the board was. He’d definitely have to take Iida up on his offer for help.

He frowned as he tried to hold his pencil with his right hand. He gave up after a minute. The scar tissue wasn’t stretching enough yet. So, he pulled out the recorder Iida had given back to him and turned it on. He moved the pencil to his left hand and started working his way through a few kanji and numbers, hoping to get his left-handed penmanship to semi-readability. He wasn’t sure how long his right hand would be out of commission, and he didn’t want to fall even further behind in class.

When that hand started cramping, he frowned and started massaging his scarred fingers instead. He caught a few of his classmates watching him out of the corner of his eye and shrank in on himself a little, moving his hands under the desk to continue working at the frustrating marks.

Lunch was a blessed relief from his attempts at writing. He took off the compression sleeve to avoid getting any food on it—with Kaminari and Jiro joining their table there were no guarantees against spills—and almost immediately regretted it when his friends’ eyes landed on the scar that took up half his forearm. He offered them a weak grin and didn’t look up from his food for the rest of the meal, using his left hand for his chopsticks.

Shinso coughed and likely gave them all a glare, and conversation resumed. They talked about the class representative election Izuku had missed in homeroom today and about the media circus they’d all had to wade through out front. Izuku stifled a laugh recalling how Tomura had walked with him again today and distracted the media with claims that there was a villain fight a few streets over. Most of the camera crews had bought it, allowing Izuku to slip in without a fuss. His friends hadn’t been so lucky.

“What’s so funny?” Uraraka asked.

He was about to answer when an alarm went off. “Level three security breach. All students please evacuate the building in an orderly fashion.”

And that was the exact opposite of what happened. He didn’t even bother standing as students started rushing by. He had zero interest in getting hurt again in that mad crush of bodies. After most of the people cleared away from his table—Shinso had stayed, likely having the same idea as him—Izuku stood and moved to the window at the far end of their table.

“Guys, it’s just the media. They got past the gate. The teachers are already taking care of it.” He yawned and sat back down. He doubted he could get the nap in that he’d originally planned, but it was worth a shot. He put his arms on the table and let his head sink down onto them.

When All Might walked into their heroics class after lunch, Izuku hesitated after the others had left for the locker room. “Ah, Young Midoriya,” All Might greeted. “Recovery Girl hasn’t cleared you for physical activity yet. You can observe if you want, or you can head home early.” He leaned in to whisper, “I know how much her healings take out of a person, especially so many days in a row.”

“Actually, he’ll be doing neither. He needs to take care of some paperwork,” Aizawa said from the doorway, startling All Might.

“Oh, hi, Aizawa.” Izuku waved with his right hand. “What paperwork?”

“Yamada and Nezu finished putting together your English placement test.” Seeing the doubt on Izuku’s face, Aizawa sighed. “It’s all multiple choice. You don’t have to write anything; just circle the answers.”

He spent the next hour and a half camped out in the teacher’s lounge working through the test with Yamada keeping an eye on him, then Kayama when Yamada had to go teach a class. Izuku’s left hand was starting to cramp again by the time he finished and turned the thick stack of papers over to Kayama.

Then he headed for the Development Studio. He couldn’t test any of Hatsume’s “babies” yet, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t spitball with the girl while looking through one of the spare engineering textbooks in a safe corner.

He also got to scare Maijima half to death when he walked into the lab. “Hi, Maijima-sensei.”

The hero jolted, nearly knocking over a stack of spare parts. “Kid! Don’t do that to me. Why are you here anyway? Shouldn’t you be in heroics right now?”

“Recovery Girl hasn’t cleared me for it yet. I’m done for the day,” he said with a shrug. The teachers still hadn’t told him what the plan was for him doing homework, and he’d caught up on his reading yesterday. So, he really had nowhere else to be until Shinso got out of class.

Maijima noticed what he was reading and grinned. “Tell you what, why don’t you take that textbook home with you and bring it back tomorrow. No sense sitting within blast radius of Hatsume when you’re still recovering.”

After following the teacher’s glance to a smoking piece of tech at Hatsume’s work station, Izuku decided the teacher might have a point. “Thanks.”

---

Between convincing his dad not to storm the school or the Bakugo home, spending time with Tomura and Shinso in turn (after their multiple, separate revenge plans for Katsuki, he decided they were never allowed to meet under any circumstances), meeting with Iida to catch up on math, and checking in with Hatsume, the next week flew by.

He was back to taking notes in class, even if his left-handed handwriting was still atrocious. Physical therapy with his right hand was going as well as could be expected. He could twirl a pencil around his fingers now, but holding a pen to write was still a bit challenging. Not because his fingers wouldn’t bend now, but because the pen pressed on one of his scars the way he usually held it. Kaminari showed him a different way to hold his pen, but it was taking some getting used to.

The most surprising thing to come out of that week was his brief conversation with Todoroki on Thursday. The two-toned student stopped by his desk when they were dismissed for lunch and set a small jar on his notebook. “This will help with the burn scars.”

“Oh, thank you,” Izuku said, picking up the jar to see what brand it was. “Hey, Detnerat. My friend uses their skin cream.”

Todoroki hummed and started to walk away.

“Uh, Todoroki…” His classmate stopped to look back at him over his left shoulder, facial scar on full display. Izuku hesitantly asked, “Does it get easier?” Izuku glanced down at his arm. He had worn his compression sleeve every day, but anytime he had it off…the looks and whispers were getting hard to ignore. He’d even caught Katsuki staring once before the blonde tore his eyes away and stormed off with a growl.

“Not really. You learn to stop caring though.”

He had his progress exam with Recovery Girl later that day. After confirming his hearing was fine and checking his arm, she gave him one last kiss to help the scar tissue along and cleared him to return to heroics. Starting tomorrow.

He thought that was a bit odd, considering they didn’t have heroics on Fridays. He decided not to question it though. Given how prone Aizawa was to springing surprises on them, he’d come to class tomorrow prepared for anything.

He swung by the Development Studio after leaving the infirmary to return the electrical engineering book he’d borrowed, only to be ambushed by Hatsume as he entered the lab. “Midoriya! It’s done; come see!”

“Thanks again, Maijima-sensei,” Izuku called to the teacher as Hatsume dragged him over to a table.

“Tada!” The respirator was done. Izuku beamed as he carefully picked up the solid black piece of equipment. It was half the size of what Sensei currently had to wear and ran off of an oxygen concentrator powered by a rechargeable battery. Given the size they were aiming for, Hatsume had gone with one that held enough charge to last a little over a day.

“It’s perfect,” he whispered.

“Of course, it is; I made it,” She said with a proud smile. “The other one isn’t done quite yet. Waiting on Recovery Girl to check it over and calibrate it. You got her the information, right?”

“Oh, y-yes. She knows.”

“Sweet! Now go deliver this baby. I want to hear all about their reaction later.”

“Alright, I’ll text you after.” Izuku wasn’t entirely sure when Hatsume’s number had appeared in his phone, but it had. They mostly texted each other with random and outlandish ideas for support gear.

Respirator and charger carefully packed into his bag, he headed for the train station. Normally he’d wait for Shinso, but this was a special occasion. He sent his friend an apology text, citing Recovery Girl as the reason for his early departure.

Despite the tiredness clinging to him after his session with the healer, he could hardly contain his excitement as he walked up to the Shigaraki apartment. He shifted his grocery bags to one arm and knocked on the front door. He’d started cooking at their place occasionally for the good company. And there would be cause for celebrating today. If Sensei liked his present. A small spike of nerves hit him as the door opened.

“Ah, Young Midoriya,” Sensei greeted. “Come in. Tomura’s not home right now, but he should be back later.”

That was the other reason Izuku had hung out at their place so much in the last week. Tomura and Kurogiri had been extra busy with some project. Once Izuku had picked up on how long they were gone each day, he determined to at least do his homework there in case Sensei needed anything.

“Hi, Sensei. How’s katsudon sound tonight?”

“Delicious, though how are you planning to cook the pork?” Sensei teased.

“Well, I’m not my dad, but Hatsume showed me how to use a blowtorch yesterday…” A quiet laugh from Sensei made Izuku grin triumphantly. “While the meat thaws, I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

Izuku set the groceries on the counter and shrugged his backpack off. He carefully set the bag down and removed the present. “It’s a n-new respirator,” Izuku said, fighting his nervousness.

Sensei hesitated a moment before reaching a hand out to feel the device in Izuku’s hands. Running his fingers over it, he hummed. “It is much smaller. Where did you get this?”

“Hatsume and I designed it, and she built it. Recovery Girl and Maijima checked it over too. It’s all charged up,” Izuku hesitantly added.

“Then let’s try it out,” Sensei said, moving to sit at the table. He carefully undid the clasps on his old, bulky device and set it on the table in front of him. After Izuku helped him with a few adjustments, the new respirator fit perfectly.

Izuku watched as Sensei worked his jaw, checking if the new one rubbed anywhere—it shouldn’t with the same lining material Izuku’s new gloves had.

Finally, the man nodded. “This is quite the improvement, Izuku, and the best gift I’ve received in an age. Don’t tell Tomura,” he whispered conspiratorially.

Izuku’s face hurt with how widely he smiled. “I’ll be sure to let Hatsume know.”

Izuku’s good mood followed him the whole time he worked on the katsudon. After setting the table—and putting two bowls in the fridge for Tomura and Kurogiri—he let Sensei know dinner was ready and pulled a chair out for him.

Before Izuku could move to his own chair, Sensei put a hand on Izuku’s head and told him, “Thank you, Young Midoriya. For everything.” The scar tissue on Sensei’s face shifted into what Izuku had come to recognize as a frown. He moved his hand from the top of Izuku’s head to his forehead. “Are you alright? You feel a bit warm.”

“A little tired, but that’s normal after visiting Recovery Girl,” Izuku said with a shrug.

They settled in to eat. When it was just the two of them, Izuku sat across from Shigaraki. He told the man about his day and the upcoming events at school as they ate. “There are two and a half weeks left before the Sports Festival, and the teachers have barely talked about it. I can’t wait to see how everyone does, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to compete this year.” His enthusiasm faltered slightly at the end.

“Because of your hand?”

“Yeah. It’s doing a lot better, but it’s still not 100%. I’m not sure it will be in time.”

“Don’t give up hope just yet. You’d be amazed the difference two weeks can make.”

Izuku nodded and mumbled something in agreement. They let the topic rest after that. The nagging sense that time was running out clung to Izuku as he cleaned up and moved to the sofa to do his history homework. The feeling didn’t leave him until a half-hour later when he started coughing.

Dread replaced his former worry when he had a few more coughing fits over the following hour. He was getting sick. And he’d been in Sensei’s apartment! Who knew how good that man’s immune system was? And being on a respirator, the very last thing he needed to catch was a respiratory bug.

He silently swore as he shoved all his schoolwork back into his bag. He had to disinfect everything and get out of here. He couldn’t get the man sick. He dug a spare medical mask out of a disused pocket at the front of the backpack and put it on. “Sensei,” he called as he moved toward the kitchen. “I think you were right. Pretty sure I’m coming down with something. You should wash your hands and disinfect your respirator. I’ll take care of out here.”

“Don’t worry about me. The doctor has me on enough antibiotics to kill anything.”

That wouldn’t help if this was a virus. Izuku found the bleach under the sink and set to work. He’d gotten through the kitchen and wiped the dining table down before the fumes started making him feel nauseated.

“Izuku, I can hear you coughing from here. Stop cleaning and go lay down. Kurogiri can take you home when he gets back.”

There was no arguing with that particular authoritative tone. So, Izuku tiredly dragged a blanket off the back of the sofa and curled up, shivering as he pulled it tightly around him.

Chapter Text

This boy truly was a marvel. If Sensei hadn’t confirmed himself that Izuku had no quirk, he’d have thought for sure the boy had an intelligence quirk, or perhaps something in the empathy spectrum. Sensei adjusted his position in his chair, only realizing with its absence what a weight and discomfort the old respirator had been. He’d have to have the doctor inspect the new one to ensure they could make another if it was ever damaged.

Yes, Hisashi’s son had more than proven himself an asset, and just as loyal and attentive as his father. That was why he’d decided the boy simply could not be at school tomorrow. They’d made contingencies to ensure Izuku’s safety, but after his gift, Sensei didn’t feel inclined to take even that minor risk. It seemed only fitting to use the quirk he’d acquired after first rescuing Hisashi to ensure his son’s safety.

He sensed his successor and Kurogiri before the portal opened in the living room. Laughter started then died, presumably when they spotted Izuku on the sofa. Preempting the questions Sensei knew them about to ask, he called down the hallway, “There’s been a slight change of plans. Izuku won’t be attending school tomorrow.”

Sensei grinned at the stunned reactions from the pair. Tomura walked down the hall to join him while Kurogiri moved to check on Izuku who hadn’t reacted at all to the noise.

“Since when do you have a quirk that can make people sick?” Tomura asked. He froze in the doorway, staring at the new respirator. “And what is that?”

“Since the man who originally had it tried to kill me and then Hisashi.” He raised a hand to trace the edge of his new device. “As for this, it would seem Izuku has made friends in his school’s Support department.”

Tomura chuckled. “Of course, he did. He’s practically a walking ray of sunshine.”

“Yes.” Sensei turned back to the business at hand. “Are things ready?”

Tomura nodded, knowing full well that Sensei could see him. “We’re more than ready. Everyone’s got their groups and instructions. No deaths except All Might and maybe Bakugo. I’m almost sad I won’t get to kill that brat myself,” Tomura growled.

“You know well why you can’t target him directly. It’ll make you too easy to identify. Many villains hold a grudge against All Might, but very few would have reason to wish a particular first year student dead.”

Tomura grumbled but didn’t outright argue. Sensei understood his frustration. If he had been prevented from turning that assassin into a Nomu, he imagined he would have felt much the same.

Kurogiri walked past Tomura to enter the room with a thermometer in hand. “Apologies for interrupting, but did you intend for Izuku to run a 39.5°C fever?” It was not often Kurogiri showed concern, but he had sincere affection and protectiveness for those under his care. The way his form shuddered and broke apart more than usual at the edges gave away the depth of his current misgivings.

Sensei frowned. That fever was getting dangerously high. Much higher and he’d run the risk of neural damage. Perhaps he should have paid more attention once Izuku fell asleep. “Take him to Daruma, then home once he’s been checked over.”

Kurogiri nodded and strode back down the hall.

Turning his attention back to Tomura, he said, “Izuku left food for you in the refrigerator. And don’t worry. This particular quirk isn’t contagious.”

Once Tomura left, Sensei called Daruma. The screen in front of him turned on to reveal the bald man giving him a baleful look from behind his glasses. “Did you have to test out that quirk this late at night, All for One?”

All for One ignored the reproach and asked, “How is the boy?”

“Midoriya’s systems are still rebounding from multiple visits to Recovery Girl in a short timeframe. His reserves are nearly shot. He’ll take a while to get over this.”

“I only need him out of the way for tomorrow.”

“Oh, he’ll be out of the way, likely for several days. He should recover without any complications though. I’ve given him something to bring the fever down and antibiotics to prevent a secondary infection.” There was a lengthy pause. “What we talked about the other day, how well he’s adjusted…did you want to go ahead while he’s here?”

All for One considered for a moment. “You can start. Nothing too noticeable at this juncture. We have plenty of time. Though I’m sure he’d appreciate returned full use of his hand sooner than later.”

After hanging up with the doctor, All for One placed another call, this time to Hisashi. The man picked up on the second ring and asked groggily, “What happened?”

“Why does something have to be wrong for me to call you, old friend?”

“Because you know that I’m supposed to be asleep right now.”

All for One hummed. “True. I’ll be quick then. Izuku’s caught the flu. Daruma’s keeping an eye on him tonight. He should be fine in a few days, and I’ll have Kurogiri watch him at home.”

Hisashi groaned. “Are you sure neither of us has a quirk that attracts trouble? I swear he’s worse than me.”

All for One chuckled. “Believe me, if such a quirk existed, I would have several uses for it, none of them involving your family.”

Hisashi sighed. “Thanks for the call, Sensei. I’ll contact UA and let them know Izuku will be out tomorrow. I’ll try to leave here early, but I make no promises. There’s this one girl in my class that can look at an oven wrong and make it malfunction, and anytime something breaks there’s a report to file…I never realized teaching involved so much damn paperwork.”

---

Izuku only remembered hazy snippets of that night. He must have been pretty sick if Kurogiri had taken him to Dr. Tsubasa. He remembered being told he was running a high fever, that he’d managed to catch the flu, that he should rest. His body didn’t give him much choice in regard to the latter.

One of his fitful naps was disturbed by Kurogiri picking him up. Izuku opened his eyes long enough to see a warp gate growing. Then they were in his and his dad’s apartment. He guessed it was still dark out from what he could see of the windows.

Kurogiri settled him into his own bed and tucked him in. After vanishing for a few minutes, the mist man returned with a mop bucket and a glass of water. He set the bucket beside the bed and placed the glass on Izuku’s nightstand next to two medication bottles.

Izuku blinked at the pair of bottles. When did those get there? He didn’t get a chance to ask before drifting off.

Kurogiri was there when he woke up again, this time with a bowl of soup. The sun had risen, and Izuku felt the tiniest bit better, if full body aches replacing the violent shivers could be considered an improvement.

Izuku made it halfway through the bowl before he started to feel nauseated again. Kurogiri handed him a set of pills and took the leftover soup back to the kitchen. Izuku took the pills with a small sip of water, hoping one of them would settle his stomach. Too queasy to fall back asleep immediately, he took his cellphone from the nightstand and messaged his friends so they wouldn’t worry. Then he started to dial the school’s phone number, wondering if he ought to get one of his teachers’ numbers at this rate. Then Uraraka texted him back saying Aizawa already knew and warned everyone else to go home if they started feeling sick.

Oh. Someone must have told his dad. That made sense.

He woke up again with his phone vibrating on his chest. He must have fallen asleep while texting. Before he could lift the phone to look at any messages, Kurogiri reappeared. “Izuku, I fear I must leave soon, but Hisashi will be home in a few hours. If you start to feel worse, do call Tsubasa.”

“Thanks, Kurogiri. I hope I haven’t kept you too long.”

“Never.” The mist man walked over to set a thermos on the nightstand, then checked his charge’s temperature with a hand on his forehead. “Drink more soup when you can. You need the energy.”

“Okay. I will.” He offered a weak wave as Kurogiri stepped through a warp gate.

He sat up and opened the thermos to sip at its contents while checking his phone. Lunch break would have just ended. He quickly answered his friends’ texts, even one from Tomura checking in on him. He stopped when he got to the last message from Uraraka, nearly choking on a mouthful of soup.

“We’re going on a fieldtrip for rescue training! Somewhere called the Unforeseen Simulation Joint.”

“Aw man! I can’t miss rescue training! I gotta—” Izuku swung his legs off the side of the bed and got dizzy for a moment. He cautiously stood and walked toward the restroom, keeping a hand on the wall. “Gotta get ready.” Even if he wasn’t able to participate, he could watch. If the class was taking a bus to get to wherever the training was, it would be difficult to make up the exercise when he got back. Even sick and a bit out of it, he knew his quirk well enough to trust his memory of events would be intact to review when he felt better. But he had to be there to have those memories. He grabbed his backpack, meds, thermos, mask, and a handful of tissues before heading out on unsteady feet.

While on the train he tapped out a text to his friend to ask where the Unforeseen Sim—he smacked his forehead. The initials of that name were USJ. The fieldtrip made sense now. When he’d seen the USJ building on the map, it was clear on the other side of campus from the main buildings and training grounds. He deleted the text.

He’d just get off one stop later than usual and use the side entrance to campus that he’d seen on the map. That should put him pretty close to the USJ building. He hoped he wouldn’t miss too much of the class by the time he got there.

Chapter Text

Tomura took a deep breath as the warp gates opened. He smiled behind his mask and Father’s hand, familiar pre-boss run jitters setting in. “Showtime.” The zone teams moved out first—water-based quirks going to the flood zone, fire and fire-resistant quirks going to the conflagration zone, etc. A team of mutations and ranged quirks filed through the gate directly in front of him. Most of these low-level crooks—Tomura almost didn’t want to dignify them with the title of villain—weren’t that great individually, but they more than made up for their lack of competence with numbers.

They were mostly to handle the minions and Eraserhead. He, Kurogiri, and Nomu—a bioengineered behemoth that Sensei had gifted him for the mission—would be the ones taking care of All Might. As long as Kurogiri took out Thirteen early, they should be fine. One other lowlife stood awaiting their orders. He’d be Kurogiri’s backup. Plus, that magma quirk would be perfect for sealing the doors to prevent any of the students escaping.

Kurogiri—now a pale grey-white from Sensei’s quirk—nodded to Tomura when the last of the cannon fodder were in position. All but the portal directly in front of him closed. Tomura brushed an annoying strand of umber hair back from his face and tugged at the neck of his costume. Then he stepped through the warp gate.

The stadium lights were out, leaving the absurdly massive building lit solely by the glass making up half of the ceiling. In the artificial twilight, Tomura could make out a few of the nearby zones…and a skinny hobo with a scarf flying down the stairs toward them.

“Hello, Eraserhead,” Tomura said softly. He trailed his eyes up the overly grandiose staircase to the gaggle of students standing at the top with one pro hero in a spacesuit trying to shepherd them away. His eyes locked briefly on one head of spiky blonde hair before scanning the small crowd again. All Might wasn’t here.

He frowned behind his mask and turned to Kurogiri and the support crook. “Nomani, Kazan, you know what to do.” Locking eyes with Kurogiri, he added, “And find out where All Might is.”

Kurogiri—under the false name of Nomani for this mission—nodded and warped himself and the magma man away. While they took care of Thirteen and the students, Tomura was content to watch the fight between Eraserhead and his band of mutants and long-range fighters.

The more of them Eraser took out, the more grudging respect Tomura had. The man was at a bad disadvantage—thanks to a certain friend’s rambling explanation of the underground hero’s quirk last week—and still holding his own. Mostly. Tomura narrowed his eyes. Eraserhead was starting to slow down, using his quirk for shorter spurts and blinking more frequently. He just wasn’t slowing down fast enough. If All Might was merely running late, they needed to stall for a little bit.

Tomura whistled a signal to the remaining villains. The mutants backed off and the ranged fighters kept Eraserhead occupied while Tomura crouched to place a hand on the ground.

Eraserhead was lucky Izuku liked him so much.

The concrete floor cracked and crumbled in a wave. Unlike the first time at the beach, this wave was focused forward instead of in all directions. Tomura grinned as the wave of destruction caught the pro hero’s attention too late. The scraggly man jumped as the floor beneath him collapsed into a sinkhole. It had taken Tomura a few tries to get that move right, but it came in handy in a city—or inside a building. It was funny how many pipes, basements, and tunnels ran under most modern structure.

Tomura casually strolled along the edge of the long trench, gesturing for the handful of remaining ranged attackers to cease firing. Ten feet below at the bottom of the sinkhole Eraserhead defiantly stared at him. Tomura shuddered as he felt the familiar destructive itch under his skin vanish. So that’s what Erasure felt like.

The hero was favoring his left ankle now. Perfect. Tomura leaned to the side just in time to dodge a flung strand of the hero’s scarf. Another strand looped around Tomura’s wrist and tightened. “Sorry, hero, but not happening. Nomu?”

The hulking black-skinned creature moved before Tomura finished speaking its name. Nomu snapped the arm holding the other end of the scarf. It shrieked as it slammed the pro hero to the ground.

Tomura shook off the loose strands of scarf and disintegrated them. As nice as it was not itching for a few seconds, he preferred having his quirk. “You really are so cool, Eraserhead. You knew your quirk wasn’t suited for a drawn-out fight like this and against so many too! But you came down here and fought anyway. To put your students at ease, maybe?”

An explosion in the Collapse Zone with its half-demolished high rises drew all their attention. It looked like Bakugo hadn’t gone down as easily as Tomura had hoped. He waved the remaining criminals to go help with the side quest, doubting that he’d get to celebrate the bully’s death at this rate. He turned his attention back to the pro hero to find him looking at the rising plume of smoke. Tomura crouched on the lip of the sinkhole and waited for Eraserhead’s eyes to meet his again. “I hate to break it to you, but it’s not going to matter.”

Kurogiri returned then, and Tomura was confused by the haunted look that flashed across Eraserhead’s face. He quirked an eyebrow at the warper, wondering if the two had met before. Kurogiri missed the unspoken question and gave his report, “Thirteen has been incapacitated and the children scattered. Kazan sealed the doors before anyone could escape, Subete Jikanhakai. He is taking care of the stragglers now.”

Ah, yes, Tomura’s “villain” name, Subete Jikanhakai. It had taken him ages to settle on one, and he might have still been searching if not for the game he’d beaten a few days ago. The final boss turned out to be an NPC with a deceptive name. Tomura had decided to adopt the trick himself. Why not take a name that would misdirect the heroes as to what his quirk did? “Time destroys all” indeed. The heroes would think he accelerated time to the point of turning things to dust rather than contact disintegrating.

“Good job, Nomani.” He nodded to Kurogiri before asking, “Did you find out where All Might is?”

“He appears to not be coming.”

Tomura snarled and scratched at his neck again, tempted to disintegrate the irritating fabric there. “We put this whole team together for nothing? No, All Might doesn’t get to glitch out like that!” He thought for a moment. He couldn’t let this mission be a total loss.

If they couldn’t break the Symbol of Peace today, they could always break his spirit. And if the main objective was no longer attainable, he didn’t see why the side quest had to be. “Nomu, knock him out, then kill the students in the Collapse Zone,” he ordered.

Eraserhead’s eyes shot wide. “No!” Then his head was slammed into the dust and dirt by a massive, black fist. The Nomu leapt out of the sinkhole, leaving the unconscious hero behind. Tomura stood up to watch Sensei’s creation barrel toward Bakugo’s location.

Strips of emergency lights in the ground flickered to life. With their jammer quirk, that shouldn’t be possible. “Nomani, I thought you said no one escaped.”

---

Izuku panted as he spotted the USJ’s front door. Finally! He’d probably missed half of the training, but at least he was here. He took his time walking to the front door, catching his breath. He stopped in his tracks when he felt the ground rumble under his feet.

Something wasn’t right here. He sprinted to the door, only to stop a few feet away. The doors had…melted. There was no way those were opening without augmentation levels of force. Through the warped metal, he heard a scream.

Izuku’s heart stopped. That sounded like Uraraka. “Hey! Anyone in there!” He yelled, pounding on the—thankfully cooled—door.

A muffled voice answered him, “Midoriya?”

“Iida, what’s going on in there? Why are the doors melted?”

“You have to get help!” There was Uraraka. “Villains attacked and locked us in.”

Izuku blinked, trying to process that. “Is anyone hurt?”

“Thirteen is the only one in serious condition, but I can’t see Aizawa anymore.”

“I’ll be back. Hold on,” he yelled before turning to run away from the building.

His friends and teachers were trapped in an enclosed area with an unknown number of villains. They’d apparently been unable to call for help. A quick check of his phone confirmed that there was no signal here. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself to run faster. Every jammer had its limits. He just had to get out of range.

He stumbled a few times but kept on running. Sweat rolled down his face and back, and he wondered if his fever might be spiking again. Maybe this was all a bad dream. Another glance at his phone told him it was all too real. Still no signal.

Another hundred feet and he skidded to a stop. He had cell service again! He dialed the school and started pacing. An unfamiliar female voice answered after the first ring, “UA’s front office. How may I help you?”

“I’m Midoriya Izuku of class 1-A. The USJ is being attacked by villains. They have someone with a jammer quirk, and the doors are blocked,” he rushed out.

The line clicked over, and a higher-pitched but calm voice said, “Several of the staff are on their way, Midoriya. Are you hurt?” It took Izuku a moment to place the voice as belonging to Principal Nezu.

Still a bit short of breath, Izuku answered, “N-no. I’m okay. I couldn’t even get inside, but Uraraka said Thirteen and Aizawa are down.” He racked his brain for a moment, trying to think of what else he might know that could be helpful. After a coughing fit, he had something. “The front doors are melted together. Probably a fire or metal kinesis quirk. I didn’t ask about the other villains.”

“That’s quite alright. We’ve done more with less. Find somewhere to sit tight, and keep your phone on. After we take care of those villains, someone will pick you up.” The mild reproach in the principal’s voice reminded Izuku that his dad had called him in sick for the day.

He was starting to feel it too. The nausea from earlier was creeping through his stomach, and his legs were shaky. “Sure, Principal Nezu.” He hung up and put his phone back in his pocket. He looked around for a bench, freezing when he spotted an electrical control box beside the sidewalk. The heroes were still several minutes out, and Nezu didn’t specify where exactly Izuku should sit tight.

He bemoaned the fact he’d started keeping his lockpicks with his hero costume and instead picked up a brick from the edge of one of the gardens lining the path. Then he slowly jogged back toward USJ. As he drew closer, he started circling the building until he spotted another electrical box on the side of the building. A place this big should have multiple emergency exits. If he could reset or trigger one of the backup systems, there would be signs or lights leading the trapped students to those exits.

He smashed the lock on the box with the brick and opened the panel. He stared at the dozens of switches. This was going to take a while. He started toggling one switch at a time. After a minute he grew impatient and flipped two then three at a time. Halfway through the array a door opened in the wall next to him. He never would have known it was there if the seamless seal hadn’t hissed and swung outward a crack.

Izuku jumped and grabbed his chest for a moment before inching toward the door and pulling it open further. It looked like this door let out from one of the rescue zones. He stepped in and looked around. It was an urban area. Judging by the debris and water everywhere it was meant to simulate the aftermath of a typhoon or flood. It wasn’t raining currently, though the extensive piping on the ceiling seemed to hint that was possible. Most importantly, strips of lights on the ground were blinking. They marked out a clear path to the door he’d just opened.

He’d done it! His classmates could get out now. A clang from a nearby alley made Izuku stiffen as a chill crept up his spine that probably had nothing to do with his illness. If his classmates could follow the lights to the exits, so could the villains. Harsh voices snapped Izuku out of his momentary panic. He looked around frantically before hopping inside the nearest dumpster. He crouched low inside the empty bin and held his breath as the villains drew closer.

The voices and footsteps stopped dangerously near his hiding spot. They were right next to the open door. “Damn it. Looks like one of the kids escaped.”

A second voice hissed, “We should get back to the center. The boss won’t like this.”

The way the second person drew out their s sounds made Izuku wonder if they had a fairly extensive mutation quirk. He resisted the urge to peek out of the dumpster to confirm his guess. He was so busy fighting his curiosity that he didn’t notice a pale grey portal open on the roof above him.

---

Kurogiri stepped out of his portal into the Squall Zone. One of the light trails had led this way, and sure enough, there was an exterior door. And it was open. Curse UA and their building codes. With the alarms knocked out, it should have been impossible for one of the students to stumble upon an emergency exit. Even now the opened door didn’t trigger an alarm. So how had someone activated the emergency lighting? It didn’t make any…

Kurogiri’s thoughts trailed off as he registered slight movement below him. There was something in the dumpster. He leaned over the side of the building to get a better look. He went rigid as he spotted familiar green curls.

Kurogiri warped out of there in an instant. Izuku wasn’t supposed to be here. If he saw Tomura or himself, that could be a problem. Kurogiri reappeared next to his charge and said urgently, “We should leave to fight another day. One or more of the students found an emergency exit.”

He could practically feel the annoyance radiating off of Tomura. His aura was nowhere near the potency of his Master’s, but he knew one day it could grow to be. Tomura was Master’s designated successor after all. “Nomani, if you weren’t our escape plan, I’d kill you.”

Kurogiri was unconcerned by the threat. Tomura had tried during a few of his early tantrums as a child. None of the attempts had succeeded. “We can kill All Might another day. We have still proven the heroes are not so safe as they believed.”

Tomura scratched at his neck and grumbled. “Seems like it’s game over.” He growled as yet another explosion came from the direction of the Collapse Zone. “Fine. Pull the Nomu back and make us an exit.”

Kurogiri was doing just that when the melted doors of the front entryway were blown off their hinges with a loud bang. One of the twisted pieces of metal flew through the air to bounce off the floor a dozen feet away from Tomura. The other flew too close, and Kurogiri opened a pair of portals to redirect the door into the fountain behind them. They couldn’t see the entrance from their current position, but they could clearly hear the declaration of “Have no fear, for I am here!”

All Might had finally arrived.

Chapter Text

Yagi Toshinori loved being a hero. Stopping villains before they hurt people, rescuing those in danger, staving off disaster, seeing the fear vanish from civilians’ faces because they knew his arrival meant they were safe. He’d prided himself on inspiring hope and courage in others with his smile. Toshinori wasn’t smiling when he arrived at USJ.

He listened a moment before punching the front doors open, angling his punch to avoid flinging the metal into the students he heard on the other side. “Have no fear, for I am here!” he declared while taking in what he could see.

Six students stared back at him from the entryway. Shoji and Sato appeared to have a few burns, and Iida’s costume looked a bit beat up, but they appeared otherwise unharmed. The students were huddled protectively around Thirteen, who appeared to have been badly injured by a quirk similar to their own. A short distance away an unconscious villain lay wrapped in layers of Sero’s tape.

He couldn’t see Aizawa or the other 13 students that were supposed to be here.

Toshinori’s colleagues were hurt and his students in danger because of his recklessness. He was supposed to attend the field trip today and help teach these children about using their powers to rescue others. Instead, they were in need of rescue. His poor time management and priorities had put them in danger.

The metal doors sailed through the air until one of them vanished through a pale grey portal that disappeared as quickly as it appeared. The villains brought a warper. His frown deepened. That explained Thirteen’s injury.

He walked forward, keeping an eye on where the portal had been. “I came as soon as Midoriya reported the villainy that was occurring here. Did you think you could get away with attacking students on UA’s grounds?”

As he approached the top of the stairs, he finally spotted the warper, his body an amorphous mass of the same pale grey vapor the portal had been made of. Beside the warper stood a skinny man with shaggy brown hair and a black bodysuit. His costume was covered in…hands. That was one of the more disturbing things Toshinori had seen in his day. But it had nothing on the bloodied and unmoving body of his fellow teacher in the bottom of a sinkhole next to the pair.

Toshinori’s quirk—One for All—was fading more and more every day, but he still had enough of it to reach the bottom of the stairs in a flash. He knocked the two villains away from the crater and carefully picked up Aizawa’s limp body. Toshinori relaxed marginally when he saw the man was still breathing.

He leaped back up the stairs and laid Aizawa next to Thirteen. “Keep him safe,” he told Uraraka and Ashido. Then he was back down the stairs to face the villains. “Now to take care of you two.”

The man covered in hands stared him down, snarling. “All Might.”

“Careful, Subete Jikanhakai,” The cloud villain warned.

A series of explosions momentarily drew Toshinori’s attention to one of the nearby rescue zones. A building collapsed as he watched. For a moment he saw a different explosion in a different building and a pair of boys facing off. Did Bakugo get out of this one in time?

The man before him laughed. “Now you’ve got a choice, Symbol of Peace. Fight us or save your precious students? Nomani, take us to Nomu.”

Toshinori wound up for a Texas Smash. Just before it would have hit, the men dropped into a portal that opened under their feet. He had a feeling he knew where they’d gone. He jumped, flying through the air toward the dust cloud from the collapsed building.

Toshinori’s eyes tracked a series of smaller explosions. Then he saw his student. He was flying around using his quirk for propulsion, and he was being chased relentlessly by someone. Toshinori’s heart nearly stopped when the person chasing Bakugo swatted him out of the air as if he weighed nothing. The boy hit a crumbling wall before rolling on the ground.

The next second Toshinori was there, punching the villain. He blinked in surprise when his punch didn’t move or even seem to hurt the…creature. On closer inspection, what he’d taken for some sort of suit was the creature’s black, rubbery skin. Scars decorated its hide, and its brain was exposed. A beak with too many, too large teeth opened to shriek at Toshinori as it turned from the stunned Bakugo to face him.

He heard a laugh and looked up to see Nomani and Subete standing on top of an intact building. “That’s Nomu. He was made especially to end you, All Might. An Anti-symbol of Peace, if you will. Your punches can do nothing against his Shock Absorption.” He faced the Nomu and said, “Kill him.”

The Nomu was a lot faster than it looked, and it hit even harder. Rather than pulling his punches as he did with most villains, Toshinori found himself pulling more and more on his already strained quirk, hitting the Nomu with everything he had. He was running out of time. He had to end this quickly.

“Shock Absorption, huh, not cancellation? That means there’s a limit to what you can take.” The two traded blows that sent out shockwaves. Several of the nearby structures buckled under the force of the blows.

Bakugo shot into the air again to avoid the devastation on the ground, aiming for the roof of a building further away. The Nomu jumped as if to make a grab for the boy, and Toshinori was there to send the villain flying with an uppercut. They traded a few more blows in midair before Toshinori slammed the creature back down into the concrete with enough force to level a block of the fake city.

He was finally managing to stun the creature. So, he called on One for All—as much of it as his body could stand—and delivered a solid Detroit Smash, sending the Nomu flying. It crashed through the ceiling before disappearing from sight.

He, the villains, and Bakugo all stood frozen in the attack’s wake. When the dust settled, Toshinori turned to face the villains, focusing all his energy now on staying upright and maintaining his form. His time was up, but the villains didn’t know that. “Is that the best you’ve got?” he taunted.

Subete scratched at his neck—a nervous tick perhaps? “I will kill you, All Might. Just you wait. I—”

“Die!” Bakugo launched himself at the two villains, one hand raised to deliver an explosion. Without even turning to face him, Subete raised a hand and stuck it through a portal that appeared next to him. A matching portal opened directly in front of Bakugo’s face.

Toshinori’s instincts urged him to move, and timed slowed down as Bakugo’s eyes widened and he tried to change course too slowly. Toshinori remembered the sinkhole he’d pulled Aizawa from. This villain had a destructive quirk, likely a contact one. And he couldn’t move in time to save his student.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to. A spray of blood erupted from the villain’s outstretched hand followed a split second later by the echo of a gunshot. Snipe. The other teachers had arrived.

Toshinori allowed himself to relax as the two villains disappeared through the safety of a portal and Bakugo landed, unharmed and looking around for the villains to reappear. Toshinori carefully wiped some blood away from his mouth, though he could feel more seeping from other wounds. That blow to his scar had really hurt. He took as deep a breath as he could manage and called, “Young Bakugo, were you the only one in this zone?”

Bakugo took a moment to turn and actually look at Toshinori, the anger on his face fading. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Meet up with the teachers and students at the front entrance. I’ll be there shortly.”

Bakugo nodded before blasting off again.

As soon as his student was out of sight, Toshinori dropped his muscled form, hacking blood. He sank to the ground and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket to dial Nezu. “The leader and the warper got away, and I’m going to need someone to pick me up from the Collapse Zone. What’s the situation on your end?”

“Thirteen and Aizawa are en route to the hospital. Aside from a few minor injuries, the students seem to be fine. It would appear some industrious student managed to activate one of the emergency protocols manually. Half of the students escaped through the emergency exits and were waiting for us outside when we arrived.”

“And Young Midoriya?” Toshinori asked, suspicious.

“Oh, your student is a truly fascinating one, Toshinori. Deciding to take a nap in a dumpster in the Squall Zone.”

---

Izuku shivered and pulled the blankets around him tighter, letting the voices lull him back to—wait was one of those voices All Might? He opened his eyes blearily, unsure where he was. As his senses came into focus, he pinpointed the voices as being behind him. He rolled over and realized two things. First, he had an IV catheter in his arm, and second, he was in the school’s infirmary…again.

All Might was here too, without a shirt and heavily bandaged where he sat on the bed next to Izuku’s. Nezu and Recovery Girl were speaking to him. Nezu twitched an ear Izuku’s way before grinning. “Ah, it seems someone has finally woken up. Feeling any better now that your fever’s down?”

“A little.” Izuku rubbed his eyes. “What time is it? I probably need to take my meds.” His eyes strayed from the principal back to All Might and the splotch of red on the left side of his bandaged chest. His eyes widened, and he sat up. “All Might, are you okay? Did you get hit on your scar?”

“It’s 3:45, deary,” Recovery Girl said, handing him his backpack. “As for this one, he’ll be fine, as long as he gets some rest.” She shot All Might a warning glare.

Yagi sighed and leaned back against the wall. “I think I shortened my time again with that fight, but I’m alright, kid. Don’t—”

“You do realize that people tend to worry more when you tell them not to worry?” Izuku interrupted. Then he went back to digging his pill bottles out of his bag.

Yagi coughed into his hand. “Yes, well…”

“He’ll have the weekend and Monday off to recover, never fear,” Nezu said, cheerily. “You will too, in fact. The school will be closed a few days to take care of some much-needed security updates, including impact-resistant locks on all external fuse boxes.” He gave Izuku a pointed look.

Izuku hunched his shoulders and gave the principal an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I’ll try lockpicks next time,” he said, mostly joking.

Nezu narrowed his beady eyes at Izuku and might have smiled. Or bared his teeth. Either way, it was terrifying.

Izuku hurriedly changed the subject. “Are the others okay?”

Recovery Girl answered his question. “The other students are fine aside from a few scrapes and mild burns. Aizawa and Thirteen are at the hospital in stable condition, though they will take a while to recover. Honestly, I was more worried about you, deary. I couldn’t risk using my quirk on you with how worn out you were. I had to resort to actual medications to bring your fever down.”

Izuku chuckled. Then he took a set of his pills and chased them with a mouthful of his miso soup. He made a face at the lukewarm liquid before capping the thermos again. He opened his phone as he lay back down. “Well, on the upside, at least I won’t have to stay here overnight this time. Dad will be back in Musutafu in thirty minutes.”

He blinked and looked over at Yagi’s skeletal form. “So, how do we want to do this? Should I move to a different room, or will I walk down to meet him when he gets here?”

They ended up having to do nothing more dramatic than taking out Izuku’s catheter and switching their beds. With Izuku in the bed closest to the door, Yagi only had to draw the curtain separating them to protect his identity. Knowing All Might’s secret was safe, Izuku drifted back to sleep until a knock on the door woke him an hour later.

Recovery Girl opened the door to reveal a rather frazzled Hisashi, escorted by Kayama. The teacher waited in the doorway while Hisashi rushed over to Izuku’s bedside and leaned down to hug him. “Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Izuku said around a yawn. “And weak, which probably means I need to eat something. Did you leave work early?” Izuku was fairly sure his dad had never gotten home before sundown before.

“Yeah. I had another teacher cover my last class. Come on, let’s get you home. Then I can make you some soup.”

Izuku made a face as his stomach twisted. “No more miso,” he protested as he sat up.

His dad chuckled. “How about chicken noodle?”

Izuku nodded.

Recovery Girl cleared her throat to get their attention. “I’m sure this goes without saying, but you should keep an eye on Izuku’s temperature over the weekend. If that fever spikes again, he needs to go to a hospital. Lots of fluids and sleep wouldn’t do him wrong either.”

Hisashi and the elderly heroine talked a bit longer before Izuku was released. The Midoriyas followed Nemuri through the halls with Hisashi carrying Izuku’s backpack. Izuku frowned when they took a turn away from the front entrance. “Kayama-sensei, where are we going?”

His art teacher threw him a grin over her shoulder. “Did you really think we were going to let you walk and ride the train home, young man? I’m giving you two a lift.”

“That’s really not necessary. I’m fine. I just overdid it earlier with all the running…” he trailed off as his teacher shook her head.

If he fell asleep again on the drive home, no one called him on it. He was shaken awake by his dad when his soup was ready, and a steaming mug was pressed into his hands. While nursing his soup, Izuku texted his classmates to make sure they were okay. Hearing it from Recovery Girl was one thing, but hearing it from them was much more reassuring.

Then he texted Tomura. “Still sick, and I’m on house arrest. So, the beach is a no-go tomorrow. We could hang out at my place if you’re not afraid of catching the flu.”

A few minutes later, Tomura texted back. “I can’t do the beach either. Almost crushed my hand at work yesterday. Think I’ll just stay home this weekend.”

Izuku frowned at his phone, sensing Tomura wasn’t in a good mood. He then proceeded to send his friend several of the dumb hero memes he had saved, knowing how much Tomura loved anything poking fun at heroes. He sent one last text before letting Tomura alone for the night. “By the way, where did you get those lockpicks? I want to buy another set.”

Chapter Text

By the time Tuesday rolled around, Izuku was feeling much better. He let the chatter of homeroom wash over him as he studied each of his classmates to ensure they were actually okay. None of them had bandages, but a few were jumpy. Mineta looked like he wasn’t very far from a panic attack when Sero dropped a textbook. Then there was Katsuki. He was abnormally quiet, and not the dangerous, about to blow up quiet. After getting reacquainted with his former friend’s mannerisms in the last year, this was more unsettling than any of the others’ behavior.

Aizawa’s arrival was a welcome distraction. Their teacher was worse for wear with one arm in a cast and sling and his whole face bandaged. Izuku winced and shot him a sympathetic look. He looked like he should still be in a hospital bed, not walking around and teaching. Izuku wondered if their teacher just couldn’t stand to sit still or not have something to do. Then again, maybe he wanted to see his class was alive and well for himself too.

There was the expected announcement about the Sports Festival. Izuku was torn between surprise that the event was still greenlit after a villain attack and surprise that his classmates appeared to have forgotten the event existed. Did they not watch it every year? He’d been thinking about it ever since he got accepted to UA.

The rest of the day was surprisingly normal until Hatsume found him at lunch. “Izuku, it’s done!” She yelled as she appeared next to his chair, vibrating with barely contained energy. Uraraka squeaked, and the others all recoiled at the unexpected declaration.

Izuku merely looked at her for a second. Once it clicked, his face lit up. “Recovery Girl approved everything?” he asked, almost as excited as his friend.

“Yes!”

“That’s awesome! Oh, if I hurry, I might have time to... Come on. Let’s go.” Izuku scarfed down a few quick mouthfuls of his food, ignoring the confused looks from everyone else at the table. He grabbed his backpack and fast-walking from the cafeteria with Mei, waving over his shoulder at his friends. Once out of Iida’s line of sight, they broke into a sprint.

All Might’s gift was finished. The device looked like a smart watch, but the band was a special blend of alloys that would stretch to accommodate the transformation aspect of his quirk. The “watch” itself monitored vitals and had a timer that would be triggered anytime he transformed to help him keep track of how much time he had left each day. The device would also alert him if his vitals started getting dangerously out of whack and had an emergency button to contact Nezu and Recovery Girl.

The design was fairly simple. The tricky part had been keeping who the device was for a secret from Mei and Maijima. Thankfully, Mei was more concerned with the hows of inventing than the whys, and Maijima was happy as long as they weren’t blowing anything up. After he and Mei nerded out over the finished product for a few minutes, Izuku darted from the lab, box in hand.

If he could find All Might before lunch was over, he could give it to him today. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to catch him after Heroics class. The man had a habit of disappearing with the ending bell. And he absolutely could not let any of his other friends know about the gift. He couldn’t risk compromising All Might’s civilian identity. The sooner he delivered his gift the better.

He checked the teacher’s lounge first, then decided to try asking Principal Nezu. He seemed like the type to always know where everyone was. He’d barely knocked on the principal’s door when Nezu’s bright voice told him to come in. He closed the door behind him before looking up to greet the bear/mouse/dog. “Good day, Principal Nezu,” he said with a quick bow. “I was wondering if you knew where I could find All Might. I uh, have something for him.” He held up the box as if that would help his explanation.

Nezu smiled. “Yes, Chiyo told me about what you and Young Hatsume have been working on. I must say I’m impressed. If anyone can get Toshinori to take his health seriously, I hope it’s you.” Nezu poured himself a cup of tea and met Izuku’s eyes with an appraising look. “Tell me, how much do you know of his situation?”

Izuku blinked at the request. Nezu had known All Might for years. He probably was just looking out for his friend. So, Izuku answered honestly, recounting what he’d learned a year ago and when All Might had talked to him after the battle trial.

Nezu listened patiently, not showing any reaction. Finally, he nodded. “You’ve been very discrete so far, and I thank you for that. You’ll find Toshinori in Gym Beta. If you hurry, you can make it there and back before class.”

“Thank you, Principal Nezu.” Izuku turned to leave.

“Oh, and Midoriya?”

He looked back over his shoulder. “Yes?”

“Come back to my office after your Heroics class. I have the results of your English placement and a few other things to go over with you.”

“Oh! Sure. I’ll see you later, then.”

As soon as Izuku was free of the principal’s office, he booked it down the hall toward the indoor gyms. He skidded to a stop in front of the appropriate door and took a moment to catch his breath. Then he tried to suppress his grin and accompanying nerves as he pushed the door open.

There were a few things one learned about UA from experience that no one ever bothered to put in the student handbook. One of these was Aizawa’s love of logical ruses and his protectiveness, another was the quality of Lunch Rush’s cooking. Izuku learned a third fact today. The indoor gyms were soundproofed.

As the door to Gym Beta swung open, he was met by a yell of “Smash!” That wasn’t so odd, considering All Might was here. The odd thing was that it wasn’t All Might yelling or even doing the smash.

Izuku froze just inside the door, staring uncomprehending as a blonde student performed a perfect replica of All Might’s Detroit Smash, then held his arm as if the move had left him in pain. Izuku blinked a few times. Blonde hair, blue eyes, muscular build, a UA gym uniform, and yellow sparks. Why was Togata Mirio displaying All Might’s power when his quirk was Permeation? What? How?

“Um…” slipped out of his mouth as his mind raced into overdrive.

Togata and All Might, who was in his deflated form on the other side of the gym, both froze when they heard him. All three stared at each other for a solid minute.

Finally, Izuku lifted the box he’d brought. “Nezu said I could find you here.”

The tension drained out of Yagi’s shoulders. “Of course, he did.” The man ran a skeletal hand over his face, looking older for a few seconds. Then he motioned for Izuku to join them.

Togata looked almost as uncomfortable as he did. Izuku stopped a few feet from the two and looked between them. All Might sighed and sank into a chair set against the wall. “Young Togata, this is Midoriya Izuku. Young Midoriya, Togata Mirio. Midoriya’s aware of my…condition.”

Togata relaxed a little bit and gave Izuku a strained grin. “Nice to meet you. You’re a first year, right?”

“Yeah, and you’re one of the Big Three,” Izuku said. “I saw you in the Sports Festival last year. You’ve improved a lot since your first year.” Speaking of the Sports Festival… “Did your quirk mutate? I thought I saw sparks in the second round, and you were covered in them again just now. But that makes no sense. Your quirk’s Permeation. How would an electrical or an enhancer aspect even evolve from that?” His eyes widened. “You broke your arm back then. Is your arm okay?” he asked, looking at Togata.

Togata looked nervous. “Uhhh…”

Yagi rested a hand on Togata’s shoulder. Then he turned to Izuku. “Midoriya, what do you know about my quirk?”

---

“One for All? That’s…wow. That’s a lot to take in.” Turning to Togata, he asked, “So, you’re the ninth holder?” The idea of a quirk that could be passed from person to person…that turned a lot of quirk theory on its head. The implications made his brain hurt.

Togata nodded. “I am, though I’m having some trouble with it.” His usual smile fell as he flexed his right arm. Bruising was beginning to show, presumably from the smash he’d done. “This never happened to Yagi-sensei when he first got it. I’ve had One for All a year now, and I’m still not sure what I’m doing wrong.”

“Well, it makes sense you’d have a harder time,” Izuku said, wondering how these two were missing the obvious. “It’s a stockpiling quirk, and All Might had it for decades. It’s probably way stronger now than it was when he first got it.”

Yagi nodded while rubbing a finger across his chin. “That’s a valid theory. One for All’s been a bit different for each user too. My predecessor never showed any visible signs when she was using it. It gave her super strength in addition to making her quirk stronger.”

“And for you it manifested as super strength and a transformation, or at least, that’s how it is now.” Thinking about All Might’s transformation made Izuku remember why exactly he’d come here. His eyes widened. “Oh shoot! I’m going to be late! I wanted to give you this and—”

“Relax, Midoriya,” Yagi urged. “I’ll write you a note. We can talk about this more later now that you’re in the know. What did you want to give me?”

Izuku shoved the box into his hands and looked away, nerves running high. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Yagi opened the box and lifted the watch and a spare band out. “It’s uh, it monitors your vitals and has a timer. The band should expand with your muscled form.”

“Really?” Yagi asked, surprised. “I always did have trouble finding support gear that could withstand One for All.” He slid the watch on then transformed to test it out. The device beeped to life and a timer started up.

Izuku reached up to turn the band so the watch face was on the inside of his wrist. “I figured if you put the spare band on your other wrist while doing hero work, people will think it’s just a new part of your costume.”

“Excellent thinking, young man.” Yagi transformed back into his normal form and twisted the watch back around. “What’s this button do?”

“Ah, don’t! That’s an emergency beacon in case you ever get hurt or run out of time.”

Yagi jerked his hand away from the button in question. “Good to know.” He offered Izuku a fond grin and ruffled his hair. “I really do appreciate this, Young Midoriya.”

Izuku looked down as his face burned. “I didn’t help that much. Hatsume and Recovery Girl did most of the work.”

Togata decided to cut in then. “The Support Department hasn’t once done medical gear in my time at UA. I’d bet anything you’re the one who came up with the idea and design for this, weren’t you? No need to sell yourself short.”

Izuku sputtered out some vague reply while Yagi chuckled. “Alright, you two. Let me write your notes. Then you should get to class. I don’t want Aizawa or Snipe to accuse me of hogging their students.”

As the two students walked back to the main part of the campus, they traded phone numbers, just in case. Then Togata asked the question Izuku had a love/hate relationship with. “So, what’s your quirk?”

Even though he had one now, the question still made him want to flinch or scowl. Defining people by their quirks irked him. He didn’t allow the irritation to enter his voice as he answered though.

“Woah, a mental quirk? Those aren’t super common in the Hero course these days. I’ll have to introduce you to Sir sometime. You could probably learn a lot from him.” They reached an intersection, and Togata paused, grinning. “It was nice meeting you, Midoriya, but I Togata go.”

Did he just? Togata laughed at his own joke as he walked away. Izuku resisted the urge to facepalm. That was so bad.

---

“Class is at Field Gamma. Don’t make a habit of being late, problem child.”

Izuku blinked at the text. Okay, Aizawa had somehow gotten his phone number. That wasn’t at all concerning. He added the number to his now double-digit list of contacts. He was still amazed this many people wanted to talk to him.

Knowing Nezu, he’d probably told Aizawa to expect him late. If so, the mouse had known exactly what Izuku would walk in on and how it would have played out. Izuku wondered why the principal had sent him to All Might when he and Mirio had been doing private training. Did Nezu want him to know about All Might’s quirk for some reason? Maybe he’d say something when they talked after class.

In the meantime, he had a heroics class to get to. He dropped off his backpack in the 1-A homeroom and picked up the case for his hero costume. He’d finally get to test out Hatsume’s upgrades.

In the locker room, he opened the case to find a small note detailing the alterations. The main suit was the same, though the material was no longer tight through the shoulders. The big differences were the gloves and new bracers. Both had a soft, rubberized lining that was more comfortable on his scars than even his compression sleeve. As he fastened the bracers in place, he noted the contraption on the back of each. Looking over the note, he laughed when he realized Mei had added taser projectile launchers, because why not? She’d also apparently tampered with his jo staff to give it an electrifying option that wouldn’t have been viable without the new lining and closed fingers on his gloves.

Confident he hadn’t missed any other surprises, he headed out to find the training field the class was using. He found his class sparring in pairs, under Aizawa’s watchful eye. The teacher motioned for Midoriya to join him when he was close enough. “Don’t use your quirk today. You’ll be weaker than you expect after being sick and rusty from your time out of class. Your goal is to get back into the swing of things.” Aizawa narrowed his eyes as he looked around the class, until his eyes landed on Ojiro. “Ojiro, you’re sparring with Midoriya. Go easy and keep an eye on him.”

Izuku pouted as Aizawa walked towards where Kaminari and Mineta were fighting. “At least I’m allowed to spar,” he muttered.

Ojiro walked over, looking as chipper as ever. “Good to see you back in action, Midoriya. Want to run through some katas to warm up?”

Izuku nodded, and they got to work. Izuku was grateful for Aizawa’s pick of Ojiro a few minutes later. He knew Ojiro could be wiping the floor with him, but he was matching the pace Izuku set. They didn’t have to compete or try to one-up each other, because they both knew where they stood. There was something freeing about that knowledge. Once Izuku was fully recovered they could have a real match. He found himself looking forward to it.

He would have gladly continued trading blows with Ojiro the whole class if Aizawa hadn’t told them all to rotate partners. He and Ojiro bowed to each other and parted ways. Shoji walked up to him next, and Izuku eyed him warily, unsure if his joint locks would work on this classmate. They were just as likely to accidentally inflict serious injury. What did his shoulder joints even look like with those extra appendages? Assuming he could get the guy into a lock. He was huge.

“Hey, Shoji. I don’t know if my aikido joint locks will hurt you or not with the Dupliarms. So, if something starts to hurt, tap the ground or let me know, and I’ll back off immediately.”

Shoji nodded and formed a mouth on the end of one of his arms. “The same for you, Midoriya.”

It was a lot harder to block six arms than two, even if he suspected his classmate was holding back. After taking a series of punches, Izuku backed off enough to take his jo staff off his belt and un-collapsed it. That made blocking a bit easier, at least until Shoji got a good grip on the staff and twisted it around to pin Izuku against him with his jo staff at his neck. Izuku had half a mind to try out the taser button when Aizawa broke them up.

His right hand’s grip still wasn’t quite back to what it had been, and his hold was less stable with the fingers on his gloves closed. He’d have to work on that. There was so much to work on. He rubbed at his eyes as he and the rest of his class started heading back to the locker rooms.

On a whim, he turned to where Kaminari was talking with Sero. “Hey, Kaminari.”

“Yeah?”

“What happens if someone hits you with a taser?”

Kaminari shrugged. “No clue. Why?”

Izuku grinned behind his mouthguard and poked Kaminari with his jo staff before pressing the button.

Sparks danced along the metal staff, then across his classmate. Kaminari just laughed. “Dude, that tickles. Stop.” The rest of the class joined in laughing as Izuku put his staff away.

Chapter Text

“Come in.”

Izuku stepped into Principal Nezu’s office for the second time that day. This time they weren’t alone. There was a man in a police uniform sitting in one of the two chairs before the desk.

Izuku froze for a moment upon spotting the officer. “If this is about the lockpick joke—”

Nezu actually laughed at that. “No, Midoriya. Detective Tsukauchi needs to get your statement about the USJ incident. You were still fevered and incoherent when he stopped by the infirmary on Friday.”

“O-oh.” Izuku blushed in embarrassment. “S-sorry about the inconvenience, Detective.”

“No worries, Midoriya,” Tsukauchi said, giving him a kind grin. “This should be fairly quick given you weren’t there for most of it. I do have to let you know that my quirk is Lie Detector though.”

Izuku bit his tongue to resist asking about the intriguing quirk. There weren’t nearly enough mental quirks around for his liking. “Okay.”

After giving a brief summary of the events leading up to him apparently passing out in a dumpster, Tsukauchi asked a few more questions. “Have you ever heard of a League of Villians?”

Izuku frowned and shook his head. “No. Is that the group that attacked?”

Tsukauchi nodded. “They appear to be a relatively new group. Have you seen anyone suspicious hanging out around or outside campus recently?”

Izuku thought a bit longer on that one. With his improved memory, he could recall faces better, but he couldn’t think of any repeat faces hanging around campus that weren’t students or reporters. “Unless the press count, no.”

He made a mental note to ask Tomura if he’d noticed anyone weird. Tomura was more paranoid and hyperaware than him when in public. He’d have keyed in on anyone acting oddly.

“Alright. Thank you, Midoriya. That’s all I need today.” He inclined his head to Izuku before turning to face Nezu. “There was something else you wanted to discuss, Nezu?”

Nezu beamed, and mischief twinkled in his beady eyes. “Yes, actually. The other reason I wanted you two to meet in my office was to let you both know that the other is aware of All Might’s identity. He has so few allies. It seemed best to keep everyone up to date.”

Tsukauchi and Izuku eyed each other, and Izuku chuckled nervously. “I found out on accident, and I assure you I won’t tell anyone.”

Tsukauchi heard the sincerity in his words and nodded. “Likewise.”

Nezu walked the detective out before returning to his desk and studying Izuku over his paws. Izuku fidgeted in place for a moment, unsure if he should lock eyes with the Principal or not. He was pretty sure that translated as a challenge in dog body language, and he had no clue about mouse or bear. Finally, he couldn’t stand it any longer and asked, “Does he know about One for All?”

Nezu shook his head. “No, but he knows everything else.”

Izuku struggled for words for a moment before asking, “Why me?”

Nezu grinned and looked away from the frazzled teen to pour him a cup of tea. “You’re a bright young man, very observant, and like a true hero, you can’t resist helping where you might.” He handed Izuku the steaming cup. “If not now, I have no doubt you would have put the pieces together before the end of term. Especially since you noticed something was off with Togata in the last Sports Festival. I didn’t expect you to catch that.”

Izuku belatedly realized Nezu must have the gyms bugged. He filed that information next to One for All’s social and philosophical implications for later processing. “Thank you, sensei,” he said woodenly.

“And now that you know, what is your impression of Young Togata’s quirks?”

Quirks. Plural. Izuku shuddered and focused back on the present. “I’m not certain how One for All has impacted his…natural quirk. It doesn’t seem like one that could be made ‘stronger’ in the traditional sense. It’s all about fine control. Even the time he can hold his quirk active is dictated by how much oxygen his blood can hold. It might have impacted his stamina, I suppose.”

When Nezu nodded encouragingly, Izuku took a sip of his tea before continuing. “One for All, on the other hand…there has to be some way to regulate how much power he accesses at once. Like how Kacch—Bakugo can regulate how much sweat he produces to control the size of his explosions.” He rambled on a bit longer, theorizing what that power regulation might look like.

Nezu grinned when Izuku finally trailed off. “Quite the analysis, Midoriya. Have you done this before?” Something in the principal’s eyes made the Izuku think the creature already knew the answer.

Izuku hesitantly pulled out his current notebook—number 15. He’d started a new one at the beginning of the year, and between his classmates and teachers’ quirks, it was already half full. He handed the book to the eager principal and scratched the back of his head. “I’ve been interested in quirks since I knew what they were, and I’ve written about and analyzed them for years.” After a moment he paled and hurried to add, “Except All Might’s quirk! I destroyed those pages of speculation once I knew his secret. It’s not mine to keep. I should probably get rid of Togata’s too now…”

“Hmmm…” Nezu replied while flipping through a few pages. He chuckled when he got to the page dedicated to his homeroom teacher. “I highly doubt Shota would willingly get a haircut to eliminate his tell, but it is an interesting idea.”

They chatted about a few of the other profiles he’d started, then transitioned to the topic of classes. “Your English test score is impressive. You’re fairly fluent, though your grammar is rough in a few places. I’d like to propose you do some of the third year worksheets outside of class. I’d transfer you to their English class entirely, but that would conflict with your science class.”

“If I’m doing that work outside of class, would I end up with two free periods?”

Nezu shook his head. “I had another thought regarding that time slot. Correct me if I’m wrong, but your quirk impacts your memory, doesn’t it?”

Izuku blinked in surprise. He hadn’t put that on any of his paperwork when applying to UA, mostly because he was still testing the theory himself at the time. “Yes, Principal Nezu. The best I can tell, I convert from short term to long term memory almost immediately.”

Nezu beamed. “Ah, excellent! A few of your other teachers reported that you didn’t seem particularly challenged.”

Izuku blushed and hunched his shoulders. “Understanding concepts and their applications still takes work, but the memorization parts of class are easier than they were before my quirk came in.”

“Tell me, would you be interested in more…formal lessons in engineering?”

Izuku perked up. “Huh?”

“Maijima has mentioned your interest in the spare textbooks in the support lab, and your work with Hatsume speaks for itself.”

“I-I don’t understand…”

Nezu grinned. “I’m asking if you’d like to take Support course credits in addition to your Hero courses.”

Izuku’s eyes widened, and his brain stopped for a moment. Then a smile started to tug at his lips. “I could actually take classes with Maijima-sensei?”

“You would also have your own access key to the Development Studio for after school tinkering, just like the Support students. Of course, you’ll still be officially listed under 1-A’s roster and as such won’t be able to bring support gear to the Sports Festival.”

Izuku flinched at the reminder of the upcoming event. He didn’t doubt Nezu noticed. “I was actually thinking to ask if I could use my right glove and bracer—without the taser, of course—to protect my scar during it.” He took a deep breath. “When I make it to the one on one matches, I’ll have to fight hand to hand.

Nezu’s eyes gleamed. “I’m certain we can make a concession where one of our students’ health is concerned.”

They ironed out a few more details, deciding to switch Izuku’s history class out for the Introduction to Engineering course the Support department had at the same time. Izuku would still have to take the history tests, but he’d do so outside of class along with his English work. Since those two classes were almost strictly memorization, they were the easiest for Izuku to learn on his own. Robotics replaced his original free period, and the time slot for his English class was converted to lab time where he could tinker or ask Maijima for clarifications on the Support classes he couldn’t take in person.

His schedule looked a lot more packed than it did before he entered the Principal’s office. His arms and backpack were laden with new textbooks and English worksheets when he finally headed for the door.

He paused when Nezu called after him, “One last thing, Midoriya. Ojiro turned in his requested absence form for an upcoming aikido tournament. Will you be attending as well?”

Izuku’s eyes widened in panic. “The spring tourney! I completely forgot. I haven’t been able to go to practice since my injury. I need to stop by the dojo and—”

Nezu waved off his worry. “I’ll go ahead and fill out your form. It shouldn’t interfere with your finals. Go on, now.”

“Thanks, Principal Nezu!” Izuku called as the door swung shut behind him.

---

After a quick stop by Recovery Girl’s office to ask about grip strengthening exercises, Izuku met Hitoshi outside. His friend had fallen asleep in the shade of a tree while waiting for him. He yawned and stretched before checking the time.

“Wow. I should have organized a rescue party. You were in there for hours. What did the rat want anyway?” He eyed the stack of books in Izuku’s arms as if they were dangerous.

“Shhh. Hitoshi, don’t call him that,” Izuku whispered, looking around. “I’m pretty sure he has the whole campus bugged.”

Hitoshi snorted and climbed to his feet.

“We rearranged my class schedule to let me take some Support classes too.” Izuku paused for a moment as something clicked. “I’m going to graduate with two degrees…Has anyone besides Power Loader done that before?”

Hitoshi raised his eyebrows. “How are you going to have time to sleep?”

Izuku laughed nervously and shifted the stack of books to rest more on his left arm. His right hand was starting to cramp.

Hitoshi narrowed his eyes as they started walking toward the gate. “Here let me carry some of those.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Izuku…may I?”

“Really, I…” Izuku stopped walking as Hitoshi’s quirk snagged him. Izuku mentally kicked himself for falling for that. He snapped out of it to find no books in his arms. “Hitoshi! You don’t have to carry all of them.”

“Yeah, I do. Your hand’s shaking.”

Izuku glared at the traitorous appendage.

“Besides, I could use the strength training. Gotta be ready for the Sports Festival,” Hitoshi joked with a smirk. He side-eyed Izuku as they walked down the street. “Do you think you’ll…”

“I’ll compete,” Izuku said, a bit surer of himself than he was before talking to Nezu. “I really need to get my grip strength and stamina back up though. Shoji pinned me with my own jo staff in training today,” he admitted with chagrin.

Hitoshi laughed hysterically at that.

“Hey, you up for training this week? I want to see if you’ve actually been practicing aikido without me.”

Hitoshi snapped his mouth shut.

Izuku sighed. “That’s what I thought. Okay, I’m reserving one of the indoor gyms on Friday, and we’re both training, then using the school’s weight room. We’ve only got two weeks left.”

Over the last few months, Izuku had learned a few things about Hitoshi. He wanted to be a hero to prove all the people wrong who thought he’d turn out a villain. He had decent control of his quirk despite the short time frame they’d had together to train it. He had frequent migraines and/or insomnia, possibly due to his quirk. And despite his general drive to prove himself, sometimes he lost sight of the smaller steps along the way, like regular practice.

A nudge or two usually got him back on track. And friendly teasing never hurt. “Hey, cheer up.” He gently shoulder bumped his friend. “You might actually beat me this time when we spar.”

Hitoshi grinned and shook his head. They spent the rest of the trip to the train station in comfortable silence and parted ways when Hitoshi’s train arrived.

Izuku settled on a bench with his books beside him and pulled up a search on his phone while awaiting his own train. Recovery Girl had recommended a stress ball and a more advanced device to help his grip along. He found the former easily enough. There was a place not too far from the Shigarakis’ that he could stop at on the way there. He’d have to take a longer trip to Kamino Mall for the more specialized equipment, but that could wait for a day when he didn’t have a giant armload of books to lug around.

He grinned as he got an idea. He texted Tomura to let him know he was coming over, earning a very confused text in response. “Are you just now getting out of school? Why the fuck did they keep you that late? Where are you?”

Izuku snorted as he texted back. “At the train station by the school. Had to give my USJ statement to a detective. Then the principal wanted to talk about my classes. Long story.”

He really shouldn’t have been surprised when Tomura texted back “Behind you.”

He rolled his eyes and put his phone away. He picked up his stack of books and started heading away from the platform. He spotted Tomura standing beside an alleyway. “You really didn’t have to bother Kurogiri,” he said when he was close enough. “I wanted to pick something up from the store near your stop anyway.”

“Well, Kurogiri can just let us off there then. No sense in you having to wait so long,” Tomura grumbled. The trains started running further apart after rush hour traffic cleared. It was another 20 minutes before Izuku’s train would have come in.

Izuku shrugged and watched his friend while he texted Kurogiri. His right hand was bandaged and seemed to still be hurting him after his accident, but at least he could move all his fingers.

They walked through the warp gate that appeared in the alley, exiting into another alley, this one across from the train stop in Tomura’s neighborhood. They talked about their days while walking and ducked into the store Izuku had in mind.

Tomura watched in mounting confusion while Izuku picked out a pair of stress balls and nothing else. After check out, Izuku turned to toss one to his friend. Tomura looked at it briefly before asking, “What do I do with this?”

Izuku grinned as he picked up all his books again, his own stress ball stuffed into a pocket. “It’s for after your hand heals. You’ll need to rebuild your grip strength too.”

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe you’re making me take apart one of my babies,” Mei pouted as she carefully removed the taser launcher.

“It’s only the right one and only until after the Sports Festival,” Izuku assured her. “Personally, I love it, but it would give me an unfair advantage. The Hero course isn’t supposed to bring support gear to begin with.”

“But the French guy is taking his belt.”

“Aoyama has a perfectly good reason, Mei. He needs it to regulate his lasers.”

Mei grumbled under her breath as she finished removing the anchors from the gauntlet. “There. Take your stupid gear,” she said, turning away to carefully set the taser launcher and anchors on a shelf.

Izuku frowned as he put the glove and bracer on. He planned to wear them as much as possible over the next week to get more used to them. “Hey, look at it this way, Mei: you can tinker with it in the meantime.” Mei hummed noncommittally, and Izuku decided to break out the big guns. He couldn’t stand seeing his friend so dejected. He steeled himself and asked, “Were there any babies you wanted my help testing out before the Festival?”

Mei froze and slowly turned back to face him. There was that familiar, manic smile. “Yes! Did Recovery Girl clear you?” Izuku barely had time to nod before Mei grabbed his arm and dragged him to one of the explosion-proofed testing rooms. She shoved a pair of boots, a jetpack, and half a dozen other gadgets into his arms. “Put these on. We have so much work to do!”

---

Izuku rolled his left shoulder as he slung his backpack over his right. There’d only been two explosions the whole time he and Mei tested her gear, but that second one slammed him into a wall. He was going to have a lovely bruise tomorrow. But that was a problem for future Izuku. Right now, he had 30 minutes before he and Hitoshi were scheduled to use Gym Alpha.

He winced as he pulled the other backpack strap on and started walking. He’d sat in on the English class today to take a test and ask Yamada a few questions about something he was having trouble on. He’d had more than enough lab time over lunch. He waved to his energetic teacher as he walked out of the room and almost collided with his homeroom teacher.

“Oh! Sorry, Aizawa-sensei.”

“Problem child,” he greeted with a raised eyebrow. “I heard you reserved one of the gyms today. You’re not planning on using your quirk yet, are you?”

“Oh! No,” Izuku waved his arms in front of him. “A friend and I are going to spar with aikido and practice his quirk. He wants to do well in the Festival for a shot at the Hero course.”

A brief moment of something other than skepticism crossed Aizawa’s face. Izuku couldn’t get a good read on him with the scarf hiding half his face though. “Oh? Who?”

“Shinso Hitoshi. He’s in the General course.” Izuku looked away briefly. Did Aizawa realize he was still blocking the doorway? “He should have made it in, but his quirk can’t do anything against robots. He would have made it if he’d applied to Ketsubutsu, but his family’s a little tight on funds. So, he only took UA’s exam. And I’ve been teaching him a little hand to hand…” Oh great, he was rambling again. Izuku found a very interesting stain on the floor to examine. He could feel the heat rising on his face.

Aizawa hummed and stepped aside. “Seeing as you intend to do quirk training, I’ll stop by to supervise.”

Izuku blinked and raised his head to stare at Aizawa. His expression was as neutral as ever. Izuku nodded mutely and scooted around him. He could feel his teacher’s eyes on his back as he walked toward the locker room.

Hitoshi was already there, tying his shoelaces. “There you are. I was beginning to think you’d been taken prisoner by Nezu again.”

“Not this time.”

Something in his tone betrayed him, and Hitoshi raised an eyebrow in an almost perfect imitation of Aizawa. “Something happen?”

Izuku shrugged off his backpack and started changing. “Sort of. Aizawa volunteered himself to supervise our training session.”

Hitoshi almost choked on his own spit. “What?! Eraserhead is going to watch us spar?”

“And practice your quirk.”

Hitoshi flinched, and his tentative smile fell. “Right…”

Izuku closed his locker and walked over to Hitoshi. “Hey! None of that. Your quirk isn’t villainous. Any quirk could be used for evil. Can you imagine the bank robberies I could plan if I really wanted to? Or I could, I dunno, assassinate heroes. I certainly could find out their weak points if I put my mind to it.” Just the thought made him a little queasy, but that was beside the point.

Hitoshi snickered. “You? Hurt someone? I can’t see it. You’re too much of a cinnamon roll.”

“We’ll see if you change your tune when I mop the floor with you in a few minutes.”

Aizawa wasn’t at the gym when they entered. So, Izuku led them through a few katas and stretches. Then they moved into sparring. Izuku took the time to show him a few MMA moves to add to his arsenal. Those would definitely throw off Ojiro if either of them faced him in the 1v1s. Hitoshi was a bit rusty, but so was Izuku, to be fair. Izuku’s grip was still subpar too.

They took a short break when Izuku’s hand started hurting. He was taking his glove and bracer off when he noticed Aizawa. The teacher had snuck in at some point and appeared to be dozing where he leaned against the wall by the door. Izuku watched him while he took a drink of water.

He sat on the floor next to Hitoshi and massaged at his right hand. “Want to take a break and use your quirk for a bit? We can run through the moves you’re hesitant on once we’ve both caught our breath.”

Hitoshi took a pull from his own water bottle before nodding. “Sounds like a plan. Activations then endurance?”

“Sure.”

They stood up and moved a few feet apart. Hitoshi smirked and asked, “Who’s your favorite teacher?”

Izuku froze and glanced over his shoulder at Aizawa. “Uhhhh…”

That was enough of a response for Hitoshi’s quirk. Izuku’s mind fogged, and he relaxed into it. They’d figured out early on that if Izuku fought the control it drained both of their staminas faster and usually left both with headaches after only a few rounds. Hitoshi released him after a few seconds, and Izuku blinked to regain his bearings.

“Non-verbal responses next?” Hitoshi asked.

Izuku nodded and fell under Hitoshi’s quirk again. They repeated the process with a few gestures and facial expressions. The facial expressions were hit and miss despite their months of tweaking and testing. They still weren’t sure if that was a hard limit or something he might be able to overcome with further training.

At some point Aizawa moved closer, observant but not interfering. Hitoshi was doing his best to ignore the teacher, but Izuku saw his eyes dart over to him several times. “Hitoshi, how you doing? Any headache yet?”

Hitoshi shook his head. “You?”

“I’m fine. Want to try to beat your holding record? We’ve got the gym for another hour.” Hitoshi’s current record was 25 minutes before he started to really feel it. He could push his quirk to last longer, but the backlash tended to get exponentially worse the longer he went past that point.

Hitoshi glanced over at Aizawa once more before answering. “Yeah. I’ll drop it as soon as I start to feel the strain, since we wanted to do more sparring. Ready?”

“Yep.” And there was the fog again.

Rather than leave him standing there, this time Hitoshi said, “Sit down.”

Izuku felt his body move to follow the order, and he started thinking about his science paper due next week. Might as well get some planning done while waiting, right? After roughly working out an outline for the assignment, he checked back in on his surroundings—as much as he could through the brainwashing.

He was vaguely aware of Aizawa talking to Hitoshi off to one side, but Izuku didn’t bother trying to eavesdrop. No, he was much more interested in the speck slowly lowering from the ceiling in front of him. He finally managed to fight the fuzziness wrapped around his senses enough to focus his eyes. The thing was only a few inches from his face now. And it was a spider. There was a moment of processing that discovery; then he freaked out.

There was a spider inches from his face, and he couldn’t move! He started fighting Hitoshi’s hold frantically, wanting to be on the opposite side of the gym. If the ac kicked in, the spider could blow into his face and—nope. Nope, he was not thinking about that. He just needed to get away.

Izuku felt himself start twitching as he pushed against the molasses in his brain. A stab of pain flashed up his left arm as a muscle spasmed, and he could think again. He backpedaled several feet before stopping. He panted and stared at the spider still swinging in the slight air current. He flopped down on the gym floor and closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing now that he was out of imminent danger.

A shadow fell over him, and Izuku opened his eyes to see Aizawa and Hitoshi looking down at him. “Midoriya, are you okay?” his teacher asked.

Izuku laughed nervously, suddenly embarrassed. “There was a spider.”

Hitoshi gave him a deadpan look and rubbed at his temples. “You went from calm to panic attack in two seconds because of a spider?”

“It was going to touch my face!”

“You’re unbelievable.”

Aizawa eyed Izuku a few more seconds before frowning. “You triggered a muscle spasm to break his hold, didn’t you? How are you fine now?”

Izuku frowned back and quickly took stock. His muscles were sore like he’d just had a workout, but none of them were still spasming. He sat up and flexed his left arm experimentally. “Huh. I’m not sure.”

Aizawa grumbled something under his breath before speaking up again. “I think that’s enough quirk training for one day. Do you two still feel up to learning some hand to hand?”

Izuku and Hitoshi looked at each other, then at Aizawa, uncertain if they’d heard him right.

Aizawa gave one of his signature nightmarish smiles. “Aikido is all well and good, but you can’t be a one-trick pony. I’ll show you a few strikes that just might save your lives someday.”

“Yes, sensei!” The friends said in unison, fighting back smiles of their own.

Chapter Text

Izuku fidgeted with his glove as Bakugo stepped down from the stage amid boos. Of course, he’d made the rest of the first years despise class 1-A. The explosive teen had zero tact. Oh, Izuku could not wait to see him struggle when they had their media presence and interview training as third years. Karmic justice could not come fast enough.

Izuku shook off such thoughts and scanned the crowd for Hitoshi, spotting him by the jo staff leaning against his shoulder. They’d worked out a strategy beforehand. Given the years’ worth of Sports Festivals Izuku had watched and analyzed, they knew the first event would be something to thin the herd, usually a free for all or obstacle course. While teaming in the first event wasn’t encouraged, it wasn’t strictly forbidden. So, they’d watch each other’s backs.

The second event usually involved teams of two or four to ensure the final round had 16 competitors for a nice 1v1 bracket. The team events varied widely, rarely repeating through the years. They’d have to plan on the fly for that one. The third and final event was always the same, designed to showcase the strongest students’ quirks and fighting skill. Izuku and Hitoshi already had a plan in place for the third round in the unfortunate event that they had to fight each other early.

“First up we have an obstacle race!” Midnight announced.

Izuku caught Hitoshi’s eye across the crowd and they nodded to each other. As everyone lined up, the two friends edged closer to each other. “We’ve got a choke point right off the bat,” Izuku noted, eyeing the tunnel exiting the arena that led to the rest of the course.

Hitoshi nodded and whispered, “I’m not the fastest runner. Who would be our best bet for getting over the crowd?”

Izuku thought quickly, scanning the students. The few times he’d talked with Pony and her friends from 1-B came in handy now. “Probably Hatsume, Uraraka, or Shiozaki. I’m not sure if Tsuburaba’s solid air is strong enough to hold our combined weight.”

Hitoshi nodded and waited for the starting signal. Present Mic gave the signal, and everyone made a dash for the tunnel. The two stopped shy of the crush, and Hitoshi spotted one of their targets who had also lagged behind. “Hey, Shiozaki, right? While we wait for these numbskulls to clear out, can I ask you about your faith?”

Izuku did his best to keep a neutral expression as Shiozaki’s face lit up. “Of course! I…” And Hitoshi had her. Izuku studied her blank face and dull eyes. Was that what he looked like when they practiced?

Hitoshi grinned and said, “Use your quirk to make us a path over these imbeciles.”

Shiozaki turned towards the tunnel. The vines that made up her hair lengthened and drove into the ground. The earth trembled for a few moments before the vines reemerged closer to the tunnel entrance. They flew just over the heads of the other students, weaving together with occasional vines splitting off to anchor into the walls on either side.

Izuku and Hitoshi raced forward as soon as the vines stopped moving. A few of the taller students had been able to reach their catwalk and climb up to take advantage of it, but hey, they were in front of more than half of the crowd now. Hitoshi shook his head and released his quirk as they reached solid ground again.

The next obstacle was a cluster of robots. Izuku silently cursed. He didn’t have tools to jerry rig a machine gun like at the entrance exam. They’d have to play at evasion. Izuku spotted an opening off to one side and pulled Hitoshi that way while most of the students fought the bots near the center of the track. Someone had taken down one of the 0-pointers and left it collapsed, blocking part of the field, but there was just enough space between the treads for a pair of skinny students to squeeze through, putting them ahead of even more students.

“Good eye, Izuku.”

Izuku nodded, and they kept moving. The next section of the track was a pitfall with stone pillars and ropes strung between them. Thankfully, neither of them were afraid of heights. Then there was the minefield. Hitoshi took great pleasure in brainwashing a few unsuspecting students to go ahead of them and detonate some of the mines to clear a path.

They listened as Present Mic announced the first pair of students making it to the finish line. Izuku glanced ahead and behind them. “We could use the jo staff to check for mines now, rather than give more people clues about your brainwashing. We should be high enough in the ranking to ensure making it to round two.”

Hitoshi nodded, and they carefully picked their way forward, testing the dirt ahead of them with sharp pokes. They had one or two scares, but made it to the other side relatively unscathed. Hitoshi smirked at Izuku. “Race you to the end?”

Rather than take the potential bait, Izuku darted forward in a sprint. Hitoshi yelled behind him, running to catch up. Hitoshi had longer legs, but Izuku had been cleared by Aizawa to use his quirk again, giving his speed a slight boost. They crossed the finish line together with Izuku barely an inch ahead. They high fived, satisfied with their 18th and 19th placements. Then they found a nice section of wall to collapse against.

“How’s your head?” Izuku asked, closing his eyes. He focused on taking deep breaths.

Hitoshi leaned on him slightly and shrugged. “Okay. Mic and the roaring crowd aren’t doing me any favors.”

Izuku frowned. “Think Recovery Girl would give you earplugs if you asked?”

“Maybe. Not sure if impeding my hearing would interfere with my quirk though.”

“Huh. We’ll have to test that later.”

Hitoshi groaned. “Izuku, no! You’re not planning our next training session right now. We’re taking at least the weekend off to rest after this.”

Izuku laughed at his friend’s dismay.

---

The second event turned out to be a cavalry battle. As soon as teams of four were announced, Hatsume appeared out of nowhere to claim a spot on Izuku and Shinso’s team. Uraraka was close behind her. Izuku kinda wished they had a heavy hitter on their team, but with the high point values assigned to Todoroki and Bakugo’s teams, he was fine with attracting less attention.

Izuku was elected to be their team’s rider. Hitoshi took the lead position and lent Izuku his jo staff, since he was more experienced with it. Hatsume doled out support gear from her arsenal too. Izuku got the jetpack and wire arrow—between testing that and his taser launchers in the lab, he was a pretty decent shot now. Uraraka and Hatsume split the hover boots for balance, and Hatsume kept her hydraulic bracers and capture gun. Shinso didn’t want to risk splitting his focus between managing unfamiliar gear and controlling whoever he targeted with his quirk.

When the match started, they got as far away from the two top teams as they could, focusing instead on snatching headbands from the lower teams. Hitoshi brainwashed, Izuku tripped with the wire arrow, and Hatsume even netted one whole team with a well-timed shot of her capture gun. As the minutes ticked down, they retreated to the air with a combination of Uraraka’s quirk and Hatsume’s tech, both to protect their current headbands and to survey the field.

Todoroki and Bakugo were predictably at each other’s throats, fighting over the 10 million-point headband. Monoma’s team seemed to be doing well with the same idea as Izuku’s team—staying the hell away from that mess. One last check of the scoreboard, and Izuku and crew decided to wait out the clock. In a last-minute upset, Todoroki lost the 10 million to Bakugo despite using a brief burst of fire to push the explosive blonde back. Even with the setback, Todoroki’s team had enough other headbands to net them fourth place, bumping Izuku’s team up to second.

There was a break for lunch before the third event, and Izuku and most of the others ate in silence. Izuku people watched as he ate, working through potential strategies to take each of the others down. The ranged attackers would present the biggest problem for him. A few of them—Todoroki, Kaminari, and Honenuki—would be hard to beat if they got off a single attack. Tokoyami and Bakugo would be hard to fight too, but they didn’t have that same potential to wipe the entire field in one shot. Well, Bakugo probably could if he were mad enough, but he’d hurt himself doing it.

Izuku wasn’t sure how far he could make it in the tournament. A lot about the matchups was dependent on luck, but he’d do the best he could with whatever matchup he faced. With any luck Bakugo and Todoroki would face each other early.

Izuku sighed and pushed the remainder of his food aside. He didn’t want to have a full stomach while fighting anyway. He glanced over at his classmates. Most of them showed some level of nerves too. One notable exception was Todoroki, who seemed to be trying to set his rice on fire with his eyes.

Against his better judgment, Izuku moved to sit by him. “Hey, you okay?”

Todoroki stiffened briefly before blinking and actually looking at Izuku. “Hm?”

“I asked if you’re okay. You’re glaring at your food like it insulted your family.”

Todoroki made a soft sound that might have been a laugh or snort. His eyes were oddly distant though. He glanced back at his untouched food before picking up the tray and motioning for Izuku to follow him. Izuku hoped he’d be okay for the upcoming fights.

Todoroki dumped his tray in the trash and blatantly ignored a particularly nasty sneer from Bakugo as they walked past his table. Izuku’s former friend glanced at him as he followed Todoroki; his sneer faded as he looked away. Izuku frowned and looked back to Todoroki. There was something odd about the way those two were acting. Come to think of it, they’d both arrived late to lunch. Did something happen between them after the cavalry battle?

Izuku followed Todoroki through the halls to a secluded corridor by one of the entrances to the arena. They leaned against opposing walls to face each other, and Izuku waited. Todoroki wasn’t normally big on talking. So, whatever this was, it must be important to him.

After a few minutes, his classmate let out a long breath and asked, “Have you heard of quirk marriages?”

---

“I can see why you don’t like using the fire half of your quirk,” Izuku said, looking at his friend with concern. His home life was…far from ideal.

“I tried explaining to Bakugo, but…” Todoroki’s face scrunched up, and he shook his head. “He reminds me of Endeavor. Same temper, same obsession with being the best, same disregard for others.” He gestured at Izuku’s arm. “If your costume wasn’t fireproofed—and he had no way of knowing it was—he could have killed you.” Todoroki’s lip curled in a snarl as he added, “And he got me to use my father’s power.”

“Bakugo’s abrasive, but…” Izuku sighed, scratching the back of his head. “He’s good. We were friends once, practically grew up together before I moved away. Under that porcupine exterior he wants to do what’s right. He’ll make a great hero if he can get his head out of his ass.”

Todoroki frowned. “What happened?”

“He pushed me away, and I got tired of being burned every time I tried to peel back the layers to find the old Kacchan.”

“Burned. I see…”

Izuku grimaced. Of course, he’d brought them back to the fire topic. He rubbed at his right hand absently, struggling for the words. He wanted to say something. Todoroki’s quirk was amazing and would have almost no backlash if he just used both sides of it together. When he only used his right side… “How often have you given yourself frostbite?” he asked before he could think better of it.

Todoroki frowned and tilted his head. “I’ve lost count. Why?”

Izuku tried not to get angry. He really did. “Would you get mad at me if I purposely pushed myself to the point my muscles seized?”

Todoroki glared at him. “I’d think you were an idiot.”

“Then why are you purposely hurting yourself?” Todoroki’s eyes widened. Izuku pressed ahead before he could say anything. “If you want to reject your father, fine. He seems like more of a bully than a parent. He doesn’t deserve someone like you looking up to him.”

Izuku shook his head. “I can’t know what you’ve gone through; our lives have been so different. But I have dealt with bullies most of mine, and I refuse to let how they treated me affect the hero I’m going to be.” He locked eyes with his friend as he continued, “You don’t have the right to be number one if you’re not going to use your full power.”

Izuku pursed his lips. “It’s not his fire anyway. Your quirk is so different from his. He can’t force you to use it, and neither can I. But if you do, you decide whether or not you hurt someone with it. Did you know my dad has a fire breath quirk?”

Todoroki’s eyebrows shot up, and he shook his head.

“He’s never burned anyone in his life—except for that one mugger. My point is…out there,” Izuku swept his arm to indicate the arena and the world beyond. “There are some nasty villains that even All Might can’t beat solo. There are natural disasters. You’ll eventually need your fire. Will you be able to live with yourself when someone besides you gets hurt because you held back?”

Todoroki stared at Izuku for a while, frowning. Izuku could practically see him weighing his words. Finally, Todoroki broke eye contact and pushed off the wall. “I’ll think about it. We should get to the stands to see our matchups.”

Izuku tried to hide his disappointment as he nodded and followed. Then he looked back at the arena and the announcer’s box on the far side. There were three ways to handle a bully. Todoroki didn’t stand a chance fighting back—yet—and while he doubted Endeavor’s legal team could be beaten if they tried to take things public, maybe there was a way for Todoroki to flee the situation.

Chapter Text

Izuku’s was the first match of the tournament, and it was against Monoma. As he walked out onto the stage, he wondered what sort of fighting style the 1-B student might have. He was also extremely curious how his quirk would copy over. If he was lucky, the backlash would knock the blonde out just like it had Izuku when it first manifested.

“Alright, let’s get this party started! On the right, we have Midoriya Izuku of class 1-A, and on the left we have Monoma Neito of class 1-B. While neither student has a flashy quirk, don’t think for a second that they’re pushovers. That’s all either needs to walk all over you.”

The crowd roared at Present Mic’s spiel, and Izuku grinned. Yamada wasn’t giving away peoples’ quirks with their intros. All the better for Shinso.

Midnight announced the start of the match, and Izuku bowed like he would for an aikido match. Monoma raised an eyebrow at him before they both rushed forward. Izuku fought back a smile and tried for a determined grin instead. His dad and friends would be watching—or listening in Sensei’s case. Pro heroes and sidekicks were here scouting for their agencies. He intended to do his best.

Normally, Izuku would block and deliver most blows with his dominant right arm, but he knew from hearing Monoma brag to his classmates that he needed skin contact for Copy to work. Izuku was admittedly curious, and it would just be plain unsportsmanlike to deny his opponent a chance to show off his quirk. So, when he made his first strike, he purposely used his left.

The 1-B student didn’t pass up the opportunity, dodging to the outside and batting Izuku’s hand off mark. Rather than follow up, Izuku backed up a step and watched his opponent to see what would happen. He was inordinately disappointed when Monoma frowned and said, “Hyper-Processing is a pathetic speed quirk?”

Izuku rolled his eyes. “Not exactly. Your nerves fire faster. How are you conscious right now? It knocked me on my ear for a day and a half when it came in.”

Monoma’s eyebrows shot up. “Late bloomer?”

Izuku nodded and moved in to attack again as he said, “Last year, actually.”

The blonde effortlessly dodged before throwing a punch of his own. “Huh, must have a mutation component. My quirk doesn’t copy those.”

Izuku caught Monoma’s wrist and attempted to twist him into falling with the same move he used on Shindo months ago. The 1-B student kicked the back of his knee before he could manage it. They circled and threw several more punches as they studied each other. The corner of Izuku’s mouth twitched up slightly when Monoma deflected a sped up knifehand.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Izuku said while shaking his head. “It’s just nice fighting someone my speed.”

Monoma gave one of his slightly crazed smiles as he spun into a sweeping kick. “You’re not half bad yourself, considering you’re 1-A.”

Izuku jumped over the move and snorted. For whatever reason Monoma had singlehandedly started a rivalry between 1-A and 1-B. Everyone else in 1-A was fair game for mockery and all manner of insults. Whether because he hadn’t actually fought at the USJ or because he was friends with Pony, Monoma blunted his barbs when aiming at Izuku. And it utterly infuriated Bakugo.

Izuku and Monoma weren’t quite friends, but they were past being acquaintances at this point. “We should spar sometime. Your hand to hand’s pretty good, and it’d be nice fighting someone besides Hitoshi.” Izuku caught an incoming punch and tried to rotate Monoma into a fall for a pin.

The slippery blonde twisted free and went back on the offensive. “You know, that might be fun. But who’s Hitoshi?”

Izuku dodged inside to avoid Monoma’s right-handed strike and watched his left for the blow he knew was coming. “You’ll know soon enough.” He hadn’t used Hyper-Processing’s speed at the beginning of the fight, but he had been slowly ramping it up since then. Izuku knew how far he could push himself. Monoma didn’t. Now he just needed to get his opponent to push until he hit the backlash.

One of the moves Aizawa had shown him would work perfectly here. Aizawa had been cautious of trusting Izuku’s right hand as it fatigued faster than his left, even if his strength was back now. So, he’d shown Izuku a lock that put most of the strain on his shoulder and forearm instead.

When Monoma took the perceived opening to jab with his left hand, Izuku urged the world to slow down around him. He moved enough to allow the strike to brush the right side of his ribcage before trapping the offending limb between his chest and right arm. He quickly twisted his forearm up under Monoma’s arm and grabbed a fistful of his opponent’s shirt. Then he lifted, forcing Monoma onto his tiptoes to lessen the pain in his captured elbow and shoulder.

The blonde’s eyes widened a moment before Izuku twisted to deliver a sped up left-handed hook to his stomach. While he wasn’t ambidextrous by any means, Izuku’s left had gotten stronger while his right hand was recovering. Monoma nearly doubled over with the blow, and he lashed out, trying to escape Izuku’s hold. He hissed and aborted the attempt when Izuku adjusted the lock to strain his trapped elbow again, but he didn’t give up.

Monoma started speeding up his movements, making it harder for Izuku to counterbalance them as they shuffled around the stage. Izuku threw the occasional punch to wear him down as he waited. Ah! There it was. He noticed slight twitching in Monoma’s arm. He released his hold and let Monoma slip his grip, but he pressed forward with a flurry of punches and the occasional kick, denying the blonde a moment’s rest.

The backlash hit Monoma as he scrambled to dodge a jab aimed at his face. He cried out and fell as his right leg seized. Izuku stopped pressing the attack but remained in a ready stance. “Hurts, doesn’t it? That’s my quirk at its worst. The muscle cramps will last at least ten minutes, and that’s assuming you’ve been getting plenty of potassium in your diet. You won’t be able to put weight on that leg until the cramps pass.”

Midnight overheard him and nodded, raising a flag. “Midoriya wins.”

Izuku dropped his ready stance and bowed. Then he walked over to help his opponent. “Let’s get you to Recovery Girl. Some muscle relaxers should straighten you out.” He pulled Monoma to his feet and put his right arm over his shoulder. “That was a really good fight though.”

Monoma grimaced. “Midoriya, your quirk kinda sucks.”

Izuku laughed as they walked/hopped toward the exit. “The speed thing is really a minor part. The biggie is sped up thinking and processing. Sometimes my mind gets going so fast everything else feels like it’s moving at a snail’s pace. It’s also really convenient for studying.”

Monoma hummed noncommittally and stayed silent the rest of the trip. By the time they reached Recovery Girl’s temporary office, Shinso and Kaibara were already on stage. Izuku pointed at the screen in the corner just in time for them to see Monoma’s classmate turn around and walk out of bounds while the purple-haired student stood proudly with his arms crossed. “That’s Hitoshi,” Izuku said, not bothering to keep the smile off his face this time.

---

The other first round matches went quickly, except Uraraka and Bakugo’s showdown. Apparently, Uraraka could hold one hell of a grudge, and she hadn’t forgiven Bakugo for hurting Izuku. Their entire class was floored by the fight she put up. She almost beat Bakugo. Izuku noticed the way he held his wrist after the dust settled. He’d had to push his quirk hard to stop that makeshift meteor shower.

What really surprised Izuku was how Bakugo went to check on Uraraka and stood guard until Recovery Girl’s robots put his classmate on a stretcher. And he didn’t talk that whole time. It seemed so out of character Izuku wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

Todoroki’s match against Kaminari was also a sight to behold, moreso because of the literal glacier Todoroki decided to trap their zappy classmate in. He didn’t even have to move from his starting position. Izuku and Hitoshi were set to face off in the next round, and whoever won would have to face that. Iida was good, but Izuku didn’t hold out much hope of him beating Endeavor’s son in their round two match.

As Present Mic recapped the first round for the audience, Hitoshi and Izuku met in the corridor and walked to the arena together in silence. They both waved to the audience as they approached the stage.

They took their positions and waited for Mic’s introduction. Aizawa surprised them by speaking up instead. The underground hero was Mic’s co-announcer/babysitter for the Festival, but he hadn’t had much to say so far. “This should be an interesting match. I’ve seen these problem children practicing together. They know the ins and outs of each other’s quirks and fighting styles.”

Midnight announced the start of the match, and both students bowed.

Izuku smiled and called to Hitsoshi as he walked forward, “Can I just say how lame it is that they pitted the two mental quirks against each other this early? It’s like they don’t want a mental power to win. Guess they’re scared the other guys can’t handle both of us advancing.”

Hitoshi laughed, walking forward too. “Yeah, totally stacked.” He shifted his jo staff to a ready position in front of him and smirked when they were ten feet apart. “Now don’t go easy on me, because we’re friends. Kay?”

Izuku scrunched up his nose and gave Hitoshi a look. “I would nev…” Okay, he deserved that one. That wasn’t even the question they’d agreed on beforehand. Izuku internally sighed as he started picturing that spider from the day in the gym. He distantly felt his heartrate picking up and fingers twitching as he focused on getting away, remembering the panic.

He didn’t even pay attention to the fact he was walking until his leg spasmed, and he nearly fell. He gave Hitoshi a fierce grin as he turned back around and charged him. No more talking. His leg twinged the first few steps before returning to normal. Izuku made a mental note to investigate that later. Right now, he needed to pay attention.

Hitoshi smirked and shrugged before returning to a ready stance in time to meet Izuku’s initial blow with his staff. The jo staff nearly leveled the playing field. Nearly. Izuku was still far faster than his friend and better trained. There was only so much magic Aizawa could work in one week.

After the first few minutes, Izuku’s arms stung from blocking blows and from having his own deflected. One sloppy deflection caught the fingers of his right hand. Izuku swore and backed up, shaking his hand. That was the last time he tried a knifehand from the right. Damn it; that hurt.

Hitoshi faltered and lowered his staff. “Your hand okay?” he asked, genuine worry creasing his brow.

Izuku took a few deep breaths and very carefully looked at Midnight as he said, “I’m good.” He clenched and unclenched his fist a few times and focused back on Hitoshi.

Neither of them was completely on their game as they returned to fighting. Izuku shifted to using his left far more, protecting his aching fingers, and Hitoshi hesitated a split second whenever a blow connected, as if making sure Izuku was alright after.

Izuku finally managed to disarm his friend during one of those slips, flinging the wooden jo staff out of bounds. He could have used it, sure, but no need to add insult to injury. From there only a minute passed before Izuku had Hitoshi struggling to escape a shoulder lock on the ground.

“Well, this was predictable,” Hitoshi said bitterly as he attempted to toss Izuku off. “I couldn’t get a single point in the entrance exam, and I can’t win a single actual fight…”

“Hitoshi, stop!” Izuku cut him off. “You’ve gotten so much better the last few months, and that’s without professional training. You’ve worked hard to get your quirk and aikido where they are. Don’t you dare down yourself for this.” He glared at his friend’s face.

Hitoshi blinked at him dumbly for a moment before Izuku realized what he’d just done. His world fogged over for a second time. This time Izuku didn’t use panic. He didn’t need to when he was this mad. At himself, at Hitoshi’s self-deprecation, at UA’s stupid entrance exam, all of the above.

It took longer to shake the hold on his mind this time. He was starting to get tired, but he was stubborn. When a muscle spasm broke him out of the Hitoshi’s mind control, it was a lot more painful than the first time, and it was his right arm. His legs almost spasmed too, and he staggered a few steps before he righted himself.

Hitoshi was on him a second later. He had to give his friend credit for that. Izuku blocked a few hits with his left arm before Hitoshi managed to get ahold of his compromised right arm. Izuku bit back a scream as Hitoshi twisted him down and around into a very painful shoulder lock on the ground. If he tapped out almost the second Hitoshi finished positioning his arm, no one called him on it. No one called him on whimpering when his arm was released either.

Hitoshi helped him up—by his left arm—and they bowed to each other ignoring the cheering crowd and overexcited voice hero in the background. They hopped off the stage and walked toward the exit closest to Recovery Girl’s office, picking up the jo staff along the way.

Once out of sight of the crowd, Izuku said through clenched teeth, “I think this was karma for how I beat Monoma.”

Hitoshi chuckled. “Seriously, you okay?”

“I can’t feel any blood inside my glove.” He hissed through his teeth as another spasm hit. “Ask me again once my arm is finished lodging its complaint.” They turned down the next hallway. “Hey.”

“What?”

Izuku smirked at Hitoshi. “Semifinals aren’t bad for the kid who couldn’t take out a single robot a few months ago.”

Hitoshi froze in his tracks. “Oh god, I’m in the semifinals. I’m going to die.”

Izuku hummed, enjoying the stages of grief flitting across his friend’s face. “I’ll write you a beautiful eulogy. It’ll even make Bakugo cry. Todoroki can light your funeral pyre.”

Hitoshi groaned. He did start walking again, which was a hopeful sign. “Does Todoroki even talk when he fights?”

“He doesn’t need to,” Izuku reminded him in a hushed whisper.

“What even makes the guy tick? I’ve never seen anything but mildly annoyed and resting bitch face from him.”

Izuku couldn’t stop himself laughing. Ow, that made his arm hurt worse. Worth it though. He wasn’t sure if he should give Hitoshi a hint. He was tempted, really tempted. But he couldn’t out his friend like that. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something. Your second quirk is finding peoples’ buttons, after all.”

“That is not a quirk,” Hitoshi corrected while holding up a finger. “It’s a passion.”

Chapter Text

Izuku’s muscle spasms were finally settling down when Iida limped into the makeshift Nurse’s office. “Hey, Iida!”

Izuku had caught the end of his match against Todoroki. He’d put up a decent fight, even landed a few kicks, but had lost. He’d come out of the fight with several scrapes and cuts from flying ice shards, though one cut on his right calf looked markedly worse if the blood soaking into his sock was anything to go by. Iida waved at him as he hobbled over to one of the beds.

“You did really well against Todoroki,” Izuku said, offering his friend a grin. “Using his own attack to hide your movements was brilliant, and you almost had him at the end. Do you think the Support Department can add a defrosting feature to your armor or retractable cleats for your boots? That would be good in winter, even if you never face an ice villain.”

“Maybe…” Iida stared at his hands while Recovery Girl checked over his leg. “I had a strategy, and I executed it. But in the end, it wasn’t enough. I underestimated my opponent, and I was careless. I lost because of it.”

“Well, yeah,” Izuku said with a chuckle. “We’ve been training to be heroes for all of a month. We’re going to make mistakes.” Izuku held up his burned hand sans glove and wiggled his fingers. “What was that thing Sensei said? Oh! A loss is only a defeat if you don’t learn something from it.”

Iida considered the words for a moment before nodding. “Well spoken, Midoriya. I shall take this as a learning experience! I…” Iida went into one of his speeches, pausing to yawn briefly when Recovery Girl healed his injuries.

Izuku listened good-naturedly, occasionally throwing in a comment when Iida came up for air. He also kept an eye on the current matchup between Bakugo and Honenuki.

The 1-B student has turned the entire stage into a quagmire, forcing Bakugo to keep himself in the air or get stuck in the liquified ground. Honenuki didn’t seem to have the same worries, diving into the liquid concrete to avoid one of Bakugo’s blasts. On-screen, Bakugo gave one of his vicious smiles.

Izuku tensed as he realized where this was going. “Recovery Girl!” he yelled, interrupting Iida. “You need to get out there. Honenuki—”

He didn’t have time to finish before Bakugo dropped out of the air aiming a hand at the ground. Just before touching the shifting surface, he detonated several small blasts. The liquified ground parted before sloshing back to cover his hand. Before the air pocket around his hand fully collapsed, he set off a bigger explosion.

In the open air, the blast wouldn’t have done much damage. There was plenty of space for the force to dissipate. This was the equivalent of setting off tnt underwater. Liquids didn’t compress as well as gases. The force of a blast carried much further before tapering off, and Honenuki was somewhere in the middle of it.

Liquid concrete flew through the air in splashes before suddenly re-solidifying. The entire stage was solid again with Honenuki still inside it, presumably unconscious.

Izuku and Iida watched in tense silence as Cementoss rushed forward. He slammed his hands down on the stage, and the concrete peeled away in malleable layers until he unearthed the 1-B student. They held their breath as he checked the student over, sighing in relief when he gave a thumbs-up.

“That was reckless and extremely dangerous! What was Bakugo thinking?” Iida asked, voice jumping an octave.

“It was a good plan, though I don’t think Bakugo was expecting Honenuki’s quirk to respond quite like that. The ground in his previous match didn’t convert back to a solid until he purposely undid his quirk’s effect.” The screen was focused on Honenuki as he was loaded onto a stretcher, but Izuku watched Bakugo in the background. There was something there, a foreign expression. Izuku wasn’t anywhere near fluent in Kacchanese, but he didn’t think Bakugo particularly enjoyed this victory. “He also might have misjudged how the force would carry. It’ll be interesting to see what he can pull off after we take Physics next year.”

Iida’s phone rang. He dropped whatever point he was about to make and frowned at the screen. Izuku politely ignored him as he answered the call, “Mother? Are you calling about my match? I…”

Izuku started to grow concerned when he noticed Iida’s face paling.

Iida was near frantic when he spoke again. “Is he okay?! I’m on my way. No, no, I don’t have to stay. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Hosu Medical Center. Got it.”

Izuku texted Kurogiri while Iida finished his call. “Can I call in that one favor? I’ll make whatever you want for dinner tomorrow.”

Izuku stood up when Iida did and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, is everything okay?”

Iida shook his head. “My brother’s in emergency surgery. He was attacked while on patrol. I need to go.”

“Wait. It’ll take hours by train. I have a friend who might be able to get us there faster…”

He glanced at his phone again to see Kurogiri had responded. “Certainly. How may I be of service?”

Izuku texted back, “Warp for two to Hosu? The closer to the hospital the better.”

Iida paced anxiously as Izuku waited for a reply. Finally, one came through. “Chawanmushi. Send me your coordinates when you are ready.”

Oh, that was an interesting dish. He’d probably have to ask Tomura to pick up the alcohol, but the rest shouldn’t be too hard. “Come on. We need to get off UA grounds.”

“What do you mean?” Iida asked as they started walking.

“Well, the pros will probably freak out if another warper shows up so soon after the USJ attack.”

Iida sputtered. “You know a warper?”

“Yeah. Kurogiri is practically my uncle. He’s the one who took me to the doctor when I caught the flu. He doesn’t like using his quirk for anyone outside of the family though. So, don’t go telling anyone about him. He’s only doing this because he likes my cooking.”

Iida blinked at him as he processed all of that. “I appreciate it, Midoriya, truly.”

Izuku offered Iida a reassuring grin. The pair changed out of their uniforms and picked up their backpacks before heading out. Izuku texted Aizawa and Uraraka to let them know that he and Iida were leaving. Then he texted Hitoshi to wish him luck and explain that an emergency had come up. Once they were a block outside of campus, Izuku directed them into an alley and sent Kurogiri his coordinates.

For once Iida didn’t complain about a blatantly broken rule. Public quirk use and all. He must have really been upset. He just took a deep breath and stared at the warp gate when it appeared. “Similar to the portals at the USJ, but a different color.”

“Really? Huh. Wonder if they’re related? Kurogiri’s never mentioned any relatives. But the quirks aren’t identical from what I’ve heard. My friend can only do two people at a time, but he has an insane range, provided he has exact coordinates to use.”

Iida nodded and walked through the warp gate. Izuku stepped through after him.

They found themselves in an alleyway in another city. Iida did a doubletake when he realized Izuku had followed him. “Wha—Midoriya, why?”

“What? Did you think I was going to let you ride the train back alone? I’m your friend, Iida.” Unspoken was his offer of moral support. If Iida wanted to talk or needed a friendly presence, he was there.

“Midoriya…” Iida's eyes looked suspiciously damp. He sniffed and looked toward the street. His eyebrows rose. “The hospital’s just down the street. This way.”

The two arrived a few minutes later to find a woman with the same dark blue hair as Iida—though pulled back in a waist-length ponytail—pacing in the waiting room. Telltale exhaust pipes peeked from her calves. “Mother, how’s he doing?” Tenya asked, walking up to her.

“Too soon to tell,” she said, eyes exhausted as she looked at her son. She frowned and checked her watch. “How did you get here so quickly?”

Tenya turned to indicate Izuku. “My friend pulled a few strings. This is Midoriya Izuku.”

Izuku shook off his nerves and the memories the faint smells of antiseptic and bleach in the air brought up. He waved sheepishly. “It’s an honor to meet you Iida-san, though I wish it were under better circumstances.”

The woman gave him a sad smile. “The pleasure’s all mine, Midoriya. Iida speaks highly of you.”

Izuku blushed and looked away. “I’ve heard about you too. Nitra, right?”

Tenya made a choking sound beside him, and the elder Iida beamed. “Not many know that name these days. Pretty sure I retired before you were born.”

Izuku smiled. “I wrote a paper on Ingenium in middle school and did some research. Your family’s one of the longest established hero groups in the country.”

The woman’s smile turned bitter and strained as she glanced away. “Yes, well, that didn’t seem to impress the Hero Killer.” She shook her head and offered the teens a wane smile. “Come, let’s sit down before Tenya and I wear grooves in the floor. You can tell me about the Sports Festival.”

---

Saying Hitoshi was nervous was like saying the sun was warm, a gross understatement. He didn’t let any of it show on his face though. The classmates who just yesterday had been whispering about how scary he and his quirk were or outright ignored him now wished him luck as he headed toward his doom. Such hypocrisy. Now that he’d taken two hero students down a peg, they acted friendly? Who did they think they were fooling?

He wished Izuku was still here. Knowing Green Bean, he’d have given some absurd little pep talk that would have made Hitoshi forget about who he was facing in a minute. Hitoshi’s frown softened. It was still weird thinking there was someone who’d care enough to do that.

Hitoshi massaged his temples as he walked toward the arena entrance. Izuku fighting his control in the last match had hurt. But he could do this. All he needed was to get under his opponent’s skin. What did he know about Todoroki Shoto? He was a recommendation student and Endeavor’s son. His quirk was ice on the right and supposedly fire on the left, but he’d never seen the boy do more than thaw out Kaminari and Iida with his left hand. He didn’t talk much, had the emotional range of a cinder block, and was smart.

But he had used his ice a lot today, and in that last match against Iida, he’d been slower. There hadn’t been a lot of time between Todoroki’s last match and this one. Maybe he’d still be suffering from quirk overuse?

Hitoshi rejected the sliver of hope as he walked toward the stage. If Todoroki had a fire portion to his quirk, either he couldn’t use it for some reason or didn’t want to. With Endeavor for an old man, he highly doubted it was a lack of ability. Maybe the burn scar had something to do with it? Using that angle didn’t sit right though. He thought of a different burn scar and how its owner thought no one noticed the way he tried not to look at his own arm.

Hitoshi had long ago acknowledged that he was a jerk at times, but he wasn’t cruel. It seemed like he’d be improvising.

Hitoshi suppressed a flinch as Present Mic’s voice boomed once more. “In one corner we have the hot and cold powerhouse, Todoroki! And in the other, our favorite dark horse! Will Shinso be able to brai—Ow!”

There was a painful second of feedback before Aizawa took over. “Don’t go making it easy for my students, Mic. If they haven’t figured out his quirk yet, they don’t deserve for you to tell them.”

Hitoshi grinned. He’d been worried that the loudmouth English teacher would ruin his chances by exposing his quirk. He owed Aizawa bigtime.

Knowing he wouldn’t get a chance once they started, Hitoshi gave a quick bow to his opponent. Todoroki seemed a bit surprised by the gesture before he slipped his usual, emotionless façade back on. Midnight started the match, and Hitoshi sprinted to his right immediately, taking a page from Iida. He almost wasn’t fast enough. A wall of ice flew at him, missing his left foot by centimeters. Seconds later the entire stage was coated in a thin sheen of ice. Looked like Todoroki didn’t feel like taking chances.

Now that Hitoshi was out of sight behind an iceberg, he kicked a thin spike of ice along the edge of the formation to break it off. He picked up the loose piece and crept closer to Todoroki’s position. Unlike Iida, he didn’t go in for the attack.

When he got to a low enough section of ice he stayed out of sight and used the ice spike as a rough mirror to watch Todoroki. After seeing the prior matches, Hitoshi was fairly confident Todoroki’s ice couldn’t travel through existing obstacles. So, as long as he stayed behind a substantial block of ice, he should be safe. If Todoroki wanted to get him, he’d have to move.

Once Hitoshi had a good viewing angle, he taunted his opponent, “What’s with the cold shoulder, Todoroki? Afraid?” He paused for a moment to watch for any reaction. Seeing none aside from Todoroki looking in his general direction, Hitoshi tried something else, “Didn’t think Endeavor’s kid would be scared of anything.” Oh, was that a nostril flare and a hint of a snarl? Hitoshi tugged on his quirk but wasn’t surprised when it wasn’t enough to snare the hero-in-training. At least he knew he was in touchy territory now.

“Don’t want to disappoint dear old dad, now do we?” No reaction this time. Damn it. He was on guard, and he was slowly walking towards Hitoshi’s hiding spot. Did Todoroki figure out his quirk? If so, he’d have to actually fight. He really didn’t feel like dying an icy death, but he was running out of options here. He set his jo staff down silently and reached for a small ice spike beside him. He broke off the tip, flinching at the small sound it made. If he went this route, he’d only have one shot.

Heart pounding with impending action, he left off with the questions altogether and hid his fear behind an old friend: snark. “You know, the girls in my class can’t seem to shut up about you. A few of the guys too. You’ve got a powerful, showy quirk, heroic family, great looks—scar aside—and everything you ever wanted.” He tugged on his quirk periodically, more out of habit than any expectation of a response. “Thanks to the way my quirk works, I’ve always been at a huge disadvantage, but someone as blessed as you wouldn’t understand that. It’ll be so easy for you to reach your goal, especially with your dad behind you. Doesn’t seem fair, getting everything you want while only putting in half the effort when some of us have to fight tooth and nail the whole way...” Still nothing for Brainwashing to sink its teeth into.

Hitoshi waited for Todoroki to blink, then tossed the pebble of ice over his shoulder and above the glacier. He waited, adjusting his grip on the icy mirror, and he picked his staff back up. A small clack announced his projectile’s landing. Todoroki spun in the direction of the noise, launching another wall of ice before he even finished turning.

Hitoshi vaulted over the ice he’d hidden behind and raced toward the hero student. He flung the larger chunk of ice at the left side of Todoroki’s head. Without breaking stride, he shifted his jo staff into a proper two-handed grip.

Todoroki’s eyes widened when he spotted the attack, and he barely raised his arm in time to block the chunk of ice. Hitoshi moved further to his right as his opponent turned, staying in the ice quirk’s “blind spot” that was his left side. Hitoshi finally got close enough to swing with his jo staff, landing a follow-up blow on Todoroki’s left arm. If Izuku’s weakness was his right arm, Ice Princess’s was his left, and Hitoshi planned to capitalize on that.

Hitoshi kept attacking, dancing around his opponent. He was close enough that an ice wall wouldn’t build up enough steam to do damage, and the jo staff kept him nicely out of arm’s reach. And Todoroki wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.

Hitoshi scoffed when Todoroki tried to freeze his feet to the ground. He slammed the end of his jo staff into the ground and jumped while leaning on his staff, keeping his feet safe. A solid jerk when he landed freed the frozen end of his staff. “You know what?” He said, swinging again. “Fighting tooth and nail got me where I am now. Without that struggle, I wouldn’t have met the people I have, and I wouldn’t have learned to fight dirty.” He jabbed Todoroki in the stomach with the end of his staff. “I almost feel bad for you. You never learned to fight without your quirk. Instead, you got your dad’s stuck up, pompous attitude.”

Todoroki’s eyes flashed, but Hitoshi didn’t recognize the danger in time. He just kept talking. “I don’t need my quirk to beat you when you’re arrogant enough to half-ass this.” He swung his jo staff for a head hit in hopes of knocking Todoroki out.

Fire burst from Todoroki’s left side, singeing Hitoshi’s arms and clothes. His wooden jo staff caught on fire. His gym shirt started to catch too, and Hitoshi panicked a little. He dropped his jo staff and frantically patted at his shirt, trying to put out the flames as he backed away. Stop, drop, and roll. That was a thing he was supposed to do, right?

He was about to do just that when ice engulfed him up to his nose, stopping just low enough to let him breathe.

Todoroki stalked over to him and almost growled as he said, “Do not compare me to that man. I…” His eyes glazed over.

Hitoshi rolled his eyes. Todoroki couldn’t have said that before freezing him? He couldn’t even command the guy to defrost him now with his mouth covered. Figured. At least he came out of the fight in better shape than his opponent. Daddy Issues was going to be covered in bruises tomorrow.

Hitoshi had given it his all. He hoped it was enough.

Chapter Text

Katsuki had been rethinking a lot of things recently. Actually, the rethinking started when Deku dropped back into his life a year and a half ago. The snot-nosed, spineless, quirkless brat had been replaced by a decently in-shape teenager who had some balls. The quirk he’d supposedly gotten wasn’t impressive, but Katsuki would have been lying if he said he wasn’t interested in seeing how the nerd developed it. You know, if it were actually there. An obscure mental quirk seemed a bit convenient in Katsuki’s book.

First Deku had the nerve to say that nonsense about being friends, then the little shit flipped him. Katsuki would never admit it, but he was still trying to figure out that move. And when Katsuki was being suffocated by a villain an hour later, there was Deku again. The damn nerd shouldn’t have stepped in, but he did and got sick for his trouble. It made no sense.

And things made even less sense when he got to UA. Deku was there too, not far behind Katsuki on the practical’s leader board. He’d been furious. Deku had to have cheated. That first day at UA did settle one question for him though. The nerd definitely had a quirk. He wouldn’t have reacted the way he did to Aizawa’s quirk if he didn’t have one.

The realization that he’d been wrong, that Deku wasn’t quirkless after all, unsettled him. It made him wonder just a little if he’d been wrong about anything else. The idea made him grind his teeth. There were supposed to be constants in the world. Katsuki was going to be the best hero in Japan. Deku was a useless tag-along.

So, maybe he tried to reestablish the norm in their battle trial. In retrospect, yeah, using the gauntlet indoors was fucking stupid. He almost lost what was left of his hearing. And Deku…Deku was disoriented, bloodied, and burnt, but still standing. The old Deku had never managed to stay standing after one of Katsuki’s explosions.

After refusing to stay down with the gauntlet blast, Deku had the nerve to take a hit for him! The ceiling caved in, and Bakugo was trapped under his classmate and the rubble. He nearly exploded the useless nerd off of him before he saw the blood. He froze as Deku’s injuries finally registered. He hadn’t been able to see it earlier because of his sleeve, but his opponent’s right arm was badly burned.

Katsuki was intimately familiar with burns and what they looked like from the early days of having his quirk. He’d long since fried most of the nerve endings in his palms, and there had been other accidents as he learned control. The way Izuku’s skin was a cracking pinkish-white where it remained was bad. That was Katsuki’s fault.

And suddenly the rest of the nerd’s wounds looked worse than they had when they stood facing each other. He pressed one of his gloves against the cut on Deku’s forehead to slow the bleeding. It had already left a large stain across the left side of Katsuki’s shirt. He tried not to gag at the smell of burnt flesh and blood that suddenly overwhelmed the space.

He wasn’t an idiot; he called for help rather than try to move himself or the still unconscious Deku. That last bit didn’t worry him. He didn’t panic. He didn’t know why All Might gave him that look when he dug them out. He didn’t remember how he got to the teacher’s lounge or when he’d traded his gauntlets for a blanket around his shoulders.

He did remember the way Aizawa sat across from him, staring at him, studying him. He remembered the way he’d said “You’re not getting your gauntlets back for a long time, and you’re going to start seeing Hound Dog. Punishment is still being decided.”

Katsuki nodded numbly. They sat there in silence for a while before he was able to ask, “Is he…?”

Aizawa blinked at him. “He’ll live, but he’ll have scars. That arm especially. Recovery Girl had to do a skin graft before she could heal him.”

Katsuki flinched and dropped his gaze to his hands. His right glove was stiff with dried blood.

He did his best to forget, but every time he saw that scar above Deku’s left eye or glimpsed the large scar wrapped around the nerd’s right forearm and fingers, he remembered. He couldn’t stop himself from noticing how Deku started writing left-handed, how he’d occasionally massage the fingers on his right hand with a pained expression, how he always wore that damn sleeve. He wasn’t fooling anyone. They all knew what was under there. How much Katsuki had fucked up.

When he and Deku were given recordings of the other matches from the battle trial to see what they’d missed and hear the rest of All Might’s lesson, Katsuki’s world tilted even further. He was supposed to be the best, but there were people like Todoroki who could freeze an entire building in seconds and Yaoyorozu who could think circles around the entire class. He was so behind without even realizing it.

Given his detentions, he was surprised when Aizawa told him he was going with the class for the USJ trip. When they got there, he understood why. Thirteen. “As I’m sure you’re aware. I have a powerful quirk called Blackhole. I can use it to suck up anything and turn it into dust. I’ve used it to rescue people in many disasters, but my quirk could also be very easily used to kill.”

Katsuki didn’t flinch, and if he did no one saw it anyway.

“Some of you also have quirks that are dangerous. With all the extraordinary quirks in the world today, it can be easy to take the danger they present for granted. Don’t forget that if you lose focus or make the wrong move, your powers can be deadly.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Katsuki muttered, glancing down at his right hand.

“Today you’ll be learning how to use your quirks to save peoples’ lives, to help. After all, that’s what being a hero is all about: ensuring the safety of others.”

It had been a nice sentiment, and Katsuki was interested in finding out if he’d been wrong about what being a hero meant too. But then the whole outing went to shit. There were loser villains, a few who might have been a decent challenge, and that giant black monster with the beak. That thing would not die! Even All Might had trouble fighting it. The Symbol of Peace had been hurt—badly, if the blood and slight shaking in his limbs were indicators. He wasn’t supposed to get hurt; he was All Might!

Was nothing constant anymore?

---

“Ensuring the safety of others…” Well, Katsuki wasn’t done messing up, it seemed. He leaned against the doorway of the Nurse’s Office, watching where his last opponent—Honenuki—lay unconscious on a bed.

Damn it. He was done with this. At least with Round Face, she’d collapsed on her own. She’d nearly had him too. She nearly won. That had been a good match, better than he’d expected. He wouldn’t underestimate her again.

He pushed off from the doorway and stuck his hands in his pockets as he headed back to 1-A’s section in the stands. It should be Icyhot’s match against that Gen Ed kid now. Both of those two bothered him. The Gen Ed kid for being a sneaky little upstart—and being Deku’s friend didn’t help. Who knew what stupid plans those two nerds had cooked up together. Icyhot angered Katsuki on a different level.

Todoroki had caught him in one of the tunnels after the cavalry battle. Katsuki never knew the guy could be so chatty. He wished he still didn’t. Icyhot had shared his entire sob story. Was he trying to get Katsuki to go easy on him? Like hell that would work. And what the fuck was up with that bastard only using half his quirk? Did he really think he was that much better than everyone else? Some part of Katsuki doubted he was better than Todoroki, but no way was he letting this stand. It was fucking disrespectful.

The rancid icing on the whole rotten cake had been what he overheard Todoroki tell Deku after they left lunch. Katsuki reminded Todoroki of his abusive old man. And the comparisons he made weren’t even wrong. If that didn’t twist his gut in a particularly unpleasant way.

And what Deku said…

Katsuki snarled and shoved the thought away as he walked into the stands to see Todoroki and his opponent at some sort of standoff. He watched from the shadow of the entryway, not really wanting to deal with his classmates.

He could see the purple extra’s mouth moving, but he was too far away to lipread or hear…Katsuki’s eyes drifted to one of his classmates. “Hey, Ears,” he said as he walked to take the seat next to her.

The girl didn’t look surprised to see him, but she did raise an eyebrow at his choice of seat. “Bakugo.”

“Can you hear what that purple troll doll is saying?”

She tilted her head and furrowed her eyebrows at him.

Katsuki tightened his jaw and considered just leaving.

Finally, Ears shrugged and said, “Yeah, sure. I guess I could share.”

As the match progressed, more and more of 1-A caught on and started edging closer to Katsuki and Jiro to hear the Gen Ed student’s relayed burns and taunts. Several members of the class were struggling to hold in laughter. Even Katsuki had to admit a few of them weren’t bad. At the very end of the match, Jiro froze mid-comment, eyes going wide.

Kaminari snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Hey, Jiro, you okay?”

After a moment she said, “He actually got Todoroki.”

“What?” All eyes turned to the stage, where The Gen Ed student was frozen up to his nose and glaring daggers at a stock-still Icyhot. Shinso had gotten him with his quirk, but he wasn’t doing anything.

Midnight raised a flag. “Shinso is unable to move. Todoroki advances to the finals.”

Troll Doll sighed and rolled his eyes, and Todoroki staggered before looking around as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Damn, too bad he couldn’t speak to order the bastard to walk off the stage,” Katsuki commented. He stood and stretched while the others ogled him.

“You know what his quirk is?” Kaminari yelled.

“Can it, Pikachu. Of course, I know. Some sort of mind control or brainwashing. Only works if the person responds though. And he has to give them orders verbally. You don’t have to be Deku to figure that out.” Katsuki tisked at his oblivious classmates before turning away. “I have a match to win.”

And win he did. This time his opponent didn’t end up unconscious. Birdbrain didn’t even stand a chance with Dark Shadow’s weakness being light. And well, his explosions produced plenty of that. He barely had to rough the guy up at all to pin him. The nerd needed to work on some hand to hand if he folded that easily when his quirk was countered.

Rather than rejoin the others, Katsuki stayed in the waiting room awaiting the call for the final round. He should be happy he’d made it this far. He’d shown how strong he was, but the audience out there mirrored his own doubts. Half of those people didn’t see a hero when he won his matches. Even his relatively merciful victory against Tokoyami had been met with just as many boos as cheers.

“Forget those extras. Who cares what they think anyway?” he said, looking down at his hands. If he won, they’d boo him, and if he lost, they’d cheer for his opponent. He could never please all of them.

How could he be number one if half of the country hated him? If he might be starting to hate himself? Something about that comparison to Endeavor made him feel sick. He scrubbed his palms on his gym pants and stood up. Maybe waiting down here alone was a mistake.

He wandered the tunnels to have something to do, and his traitorous feet led him to the door for the other waiting room. He was about to turn right back around when Todoroki rounded a corner and froze. The two stared at each other for a few minutes.

Katsuki decided sitting alone with his thoughts was better than this. “I’ll see you in the finals, Icyhot. And you’d better bring everything you’ve got.” His words lacked their usual bite, and he hoped Todoroki wouldn’t notice. “I want this victory to mean something.” Anything.

Todoroki inclined his head. Of course, he couldn’t leave well enough alone. “Midoriya said something similar to me before the bracket started. And Shinso berated me for not giving our match my all, even though it cost him the victory when I did. Why are you all so focused on me using his fire?” His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Did my father bribe you or something?”

Katsuki bristled and stormed toward Todoroki until he was a foot away. “Oi! If that dumpster fire tried to pay me to mess around in a fight, I’d burn the money and throw it back in his face! You hear?” Icyhot leaned back slightly, eyes wide. “This has nothing to do with him and everything to do with respect, damn it. If you respect your opponent, you fight them with everything, because you know they can handle it. Withholding your power’s an insult. I thought you were supposed to be smart, Icyhot.”

When Todoroki said nothing, Katsuki ground his teeth and started to turn away. Todoroki said to his back, “Endeavor never holds back.”

Katsuki froze. “That’s the difference between respect and abuse, dimwit. You don’t want to fight him. He knows you can’t handle his power, and he throws it at you anyway.” He twisted to look back. “For fuck’s sake, you were five when he started using his fire on you. I—”

Katsuki started using his explosions on Izuku when they were five.

No. He was not thinking about that right now. He was not like Endeavor.

“I’ll take it into consideration,” Todoroki said, eyeing him warily.

Katsuki shuddered and stomped away. “Yeah, you better.”

They faced each other ten minutes later, this time with an audience. Katsuki crouched, hands popping, as Present Mic gave their intros. Katsuki quirked an eyebrow up when Todoroki hesitantly bowed to him. What the fuck?

Midnight yelled “Begin”, and the temperature plummeted. Katsuki shook off his moment of confusion and started firing explosion after explosion to prevent the rapidly advancing wall of ice from encasing him. He had to keep moving. If he allowed his core temperature to drop, he might stop sweating.

When the ice ceased moving, he started pushing forward, tunneling through the glacier with his quirk. He burst through the far side and immediately threw another blast at Half n Half’s face only a dozen feet away. Did this guy train to fight like a statue or something? It made him way too predictable.

Todoroki launched another wave of ice at him, but Katsuki vaulted over it with a pair of explosions. He twisted his arms midair and fired another set of explosions to spin him into a powerful kick that connected with Icyhot’s left side. Katsuki landed in a crouch and rushed his opponent before he could recover. He aimed an explosion at that scarred face, then angled it down at the last second to send himself up and over Todoroki. He grabbed Half n Half’s shoulders on his way back down and flipped him. Small flames licked Katsuki’s hand, and he smiled.

He threw Endeavor’s son toward the out of bounds line and yelled, “Stop messing around! It’ll take more than that to burn me.”

Todoroki recovered midair and swung his right arm around him in an arc to create a semicircle of ice to catch himself and skate back around toward Katsuki on. Huh, not bad. Katsuki hadn’t known the guy could use his quirk without touching the surface he wanted to affect. He wasn’t the only one to keep a trick up their sleeve.

Fire flared from Todoroki’s left as he approached, picking up speed on his ice track. Katsuki let the sweat pool in his upturned palms, anticipation running high. Then that idiot father of Todoroki’s started yelling something from the stands. Katsuki didn’t catch what he said, but it made his opponent falter, flames sputtering out. Todoroki launched a halfhearted wall of ice his way and backed off.

Katsuki dodged the pathetic attack with a few explosions, landing on top of the glacier Icyhot’s first attack made. He snarled and turned to shout at the one person in the stands using their quirk like a fashion accessory, “Shut it, old man! This isn’t your fight!” Then he turned his attention back to Todoroki, who looked a few shades paler than he had a moment ago.

Katsuki gave him a feral grin and said, “It’s just you and me here, Half n Half. Bring it!”

His opponent blinked and nodded, left side flaring again. The fire was less than before, but his heterochromic eyes promised a fight. Another wave of ice crashed and crunched toward him, and Katsuki rocketed himself high into the air before blasting toward Icyhot. He added rotation with a few well-angled blasts and zeroed in on Todoroki. “Howitzer Impact!”

When he set off his last explosion, the blast was much bigger than he’d expected. He tried to right himself as he tumbled backward through the air, but didn’t manage it in time. He landed on his right shoulder before rolling. The skin on his arms stung from more than road rash, and Katsuki smiled despite the pain. Katsuki had good control of his quirk, but every last drop of nitroglycerin sweat on his body had ignited back there. Half n Half had actually used his fire.

Katsuki pushed himself to his hands and knees, skin and shoulder burning. When he looked up, he saw a white line on the ground. He froze for a second before jerking his head up to look for Todoroki. The other boy was unconscious against a mound of broken ice…also outside of bounds.

Not the victory Katsuki’d come into this arena wanting, but not bad. He’d been the only one to fight Half n Half at full power today, and it had been a damn good fight. He couldn’t wait for their rematch.

Chapter Text

Izuku stared at the stack of papers on his desk. All of these were internship offers? He scanned through the stack, seeing several names he recognized from his notebooks. They were all so cool. How was he supposed to choose one?

“For starters, you can weed out the ones who have nothing to teach you,” Aizawa said.

Izuku shrank in on himself as he realized he’d been mumbling again. He’d also apparently been so engrossed that he’d missed the dismissal for lunch. “W-what do you mean, sensei?”

Aizawa crossed his arms and leaned back on his desk. “What kind of hero do you want to be, problem child?”

Izuku blinked. “S-someone who helps people that most would overlook. I want to give them hope and make them feel safe. I don’t care about fame, and I was thinking about going underground anyway.”

Aizawa nodded. “Then you can rule out most of the daylight heroes. Underground work is vastly different from mainstream heroics and relies heavily on networking and reputation. There may be a few famous heroes worth investigating though. You could learn something beneficial from anyone in the Top Ten or a Pro with a mental quirk.”

“Thanks, Aizawa.” Izuku took a highlighter to the list to mark the interesting agencies. He paused when he made it to the fifth page, staring at a particularly familiar name.

“There’s one other option. I—"

“Oh my gosh, Ms. Joke sent me an offer! I haven’t seen her since the entrance exams.”

Aizawa’s eye twitched.

Izuku took his teacher’s irritation to mean he’d held him up by still being here. “Ah, sorry. I should probably let you get to your lunch break nap. I’ll just go…eat lunch.” Izuku grabbed his bag and papers without looking at his teacher. He beat a hasty retreat, hoping his friends had saved him a seat.

He’d nearly made it to the cafeteria when a different teacher called his name. “Young Midoriya.”

Izuku stopped and looked over his shoulder to see All Might in his hero form approaching. “Hey, All Might. How’s…your friend’s training going?”

All Might held up a hand in a so-so gesture. “That’s actually why I was looking for you, my boy. Nezu mentioned you had some interesting ideas on that front. Would you join us for lunch?”

Izuku’s eyebrows disappeared into his bangs. Eat lunch with All Might and his protégé? “Yes! Um…I still need to pick food up from Lunch Rush. Where are we eating?”

“We’ll be in the teacher’s lounge.”

After collecting his meal and dodging his friends, he made it to the lounge. The other two were already there and halfway through their meals. “Hey, Togata! Yagi-sensei!”

All Might coughed and gestured for him to take the seat on the sofa next to Togata.

Togata waved and smiled. “Midoriya! How’ve you been? That was a wicked performance in the Sports Festival!”

“Thanks, Togata,” Izuku said, sitting down. “I’m sorry I missed your performance. I had to leave early and haven’t gotten to watch the rest of the Festival yet.”

“No worries! That’s what recordings are for. Everything turn out okay?”

Izuku winced. “Not really. A classmate’s relative nearly died. I went with him to the hospital.”

Togata’s smile fell into a concerned frown. “Oh. That’s really rough. Hope everything turns out okay.”

Izuku stared down at his tray of food. “Me too.” Something about the look on Iida’s face on the train ride back from Hosu was bothering him.

He shook off his unease and reached into his backpack to grab an envelope. “A-about what we’re meeting here for…” He shoved the envelope into Togata’s hands, then stuffed a bite of rice into his mouth.

Togata looked between Izuku and the envelope a few times before opening it and pulling out several folded sheets of notebook paper with ripped bindings. “What’s this?”

Izuku hunched his shoulders just a little. “Your pages from my quirk analysis notebook and a few pages on One for All. They’re the only copy. I can burn them with a blowtorch in lab this afternoon if you’d rather they be gone.” He hated making the offer, but he knew how dangerous the existence of those pages was.

He picked at his food some more before glancing up to see Yagi staring at him. “Oh! Don’t worry, All Might. I disposed of your pages last year, and I never wrote more on you. Your secret’s safe.”

“That’s—I mean, that’s good. I…didn’t realize you did analysis.”

Izuku shrugged. “I’ve been doing it since I was little. Since I didn’t have a quirk to train yet, and I still wanted to be a hero, I trained my mind instead.” He paused. “Which I guess, technically, might have been training my quirk without even realizing it. Huh. I really should have guessed my quirk was mental sooner…”

Togata laughed and clapped a hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up too much.” He continued scanning through the pages before him. “These notes are really cool. I can’t believe you figured out so much about Permeation without conducting an interview.”

Izuku blushed and stuffed his mouth with rice again.

Togata handed Yagi the pages he’d already seen, and the two read while Izuku ate. After a few minutes, Yagi looked up from the pages he held. “My boy, you might be onto something here. Spreading the energy out instead of focusing it all into one arm for a smash…I hadn’t thought of that.”

Togata nodded. “Yeah. I’ve finally gotten the power down to something that won’t destroy my bones when I use one of All Might’s moves, but it still hurts. I’m willing to give it a try.” Togata turned to Yagi and asked, “Do you think we could reserve one of the gyms for this afternoon? I…”

Izuku didn’t hear what they said next, still stuck on the fact that they were taking his advice seriously. He hadn’t met anyone aside from Sensei who was actually interested in his analyses. Well, him and maybe Nezu, but Izuku was sure Nezu could do a better job. He frowned at that thought. Nezu was way smarter than him. So, why had Nezu pointed these two to him? Why not intervene directly?

That thought nagged at him through the rest of the day, almost costing him an eyebrow when he walked into the Development Studio amidst an explosion.

“Hatsume!” Maijima yelled.

Izuku rolled his eyes and smiled. He shoved the principal and his hidden motives from his mind as he walked past the beautiful disaster that was Mei’s work station to set his backpack at his own table. He pulled out his chemistry homework and the special project he’d brought from home.

The commotion at Mei’s table died down, and Izuku grinned. “Midoriya, is that a drone?” Maijima asked from behind him.

Izuku looked over his shoulder. “Yes, Maijima-sensei. I refurbished it after finding it at a dump. It flies, but I don’t have a controller for it. I figured it might be a fun project. Heroes can always use a bit of aerial support.”

Mei materialized next to him, practically drooling over the drone. “Ooh! Death from above. I like the way you think, Izuku.”

Izuku laughed. “Thanks, Mei. We can mess with it later. I wanted to ask Maijima a few questions about our chemistry and programming classes first though. Why don’t you finish up with that baby in the meantime?” He pointed back to Mei’s workstation where something mechanical was still smoking. As he pointed, it caught fire.

“Ah! My baby!” Mei bounded back to her station, grabbing a fire extinguisher on the way.

Maijima shook his head and pulled up a chair next to Izuku’s. “So, what’s got you stumped, kid?”

Izuku flipped to the equation he was having trouble balancing. The next 30 minutes were spent ironing out oxidation reactions and discussing the programming language their class was currently working with.

Maijima carefully ruffled his hair before standing to go check on another student. “You’re a quick study once it clicks, Midoriya. You’ll catch up in no time.”

Izuku blushed a little. “I still don’t understand the Fashion and Costumes class. Why don’t pink and orange go together? Why do people even like pink? It blends in with nothing and makes you a target. And, I mean, if the costume’s functional, who cares if the colors look good?”

Maijima laughed as he walked away. “That’s why you’re going into Underground, kid.”

Izuku grumbled to himself. Who’d have thought Fashion would be the bane of his existence? Math had held that title up to this point, but numbers at least made sense. They followed rules. Fashion didn’t as far as he could tell. It was so subjective, and he was very quickly coming to realize just how differently his brain worked from everyone else’s.

He packed his books away and glanced over at Mei to see how her project was going. He was surprised to see her tinkering with his costume. Curious, he walked over. Finally getting a good look, he sighed. She’d made changes again. He waited until she lifted the soldering tool away to ask, “Mei, what did you do this time?”

“Izuku!” She grinned and glanced toward him, goggles shielding her eyes. “Or should I call you Deku now that you’ve picked out your hero name?”

Izuku scratched the back of his head, still getting used to someone besides Uraraka calling him Deku and meaning good by it. “Nah, you get to call me Izuku full time. I couldn’t be Deku without your help anyway,” he said, gesturing toward the glove she was working on.

Mei beamed. “Oh! Let me show you this.” She held up the left glove, which appeared to be finished. “I combined the bracer and glove into one piece so I could protect the wiring inside the insulated layer…” She directed him to put the glove on and aim his arm at a paper target pinned to the wall by the door.

He could feel something a little off in the joint halfway down his pointer finger when he clenched his hand into a fist. At Mei’s direction, he pressed his thumb to the outside of that joint. He jumped when the taser launcher fired. His aim was a little off from the movement, but it still stuck to the outer ring of the target.

“Ha! You don’t have to use both hands to fire it anymore! You can still use the old firing mechanism on the launcher itself, in case the wiring gets damaged, but now you can dual wield these bad boys.”

“This is amazing, Mei! Thank you,” Izuku said, genuinely impressed.

Mei preened for a moment before turning her sharp gaze to the drone sitting at Izuku’s work station. “Do you think it could fly with a bola launcher?”

“Maybe. How would you cancel out the recoil though?” And so, they spent the rest of class spitballing ideas for the drone. They even debated the merits of creating an AI to handle fine adjustments and aiming with a phone app to remote control it instead of a dedicated controller. By the time the bell rang, they hadn’t settled anything but they had a stack of blueprinted possibilities.

He would have stayed longer, but there was one last teacher—well, faculty member—that he wanted to talk to today. And this was arguably more important than anything else that had happened today. He slipped out of the lab, leaving his drone there to entertain Mei. He shot Hitoshi a text as he fast-walked down the hall.

He reached Principal Nezu’s office quickly enough and took a steadying breath before knocking. “Come in,” called a cheery voice.

Izuku slipped inside and closed the door behind him before greeting the mouse/bear/dog. “Hi, Principal Nezu. Do you have a minute to talk?”

“For you, Young Midoriya? Certainly. Tea?” he asked, holding out a cup. Izuku blinked in surprise before thanking him and taking the cup. Once they were both settled into their seats with their beverages, Nezu asked, “What seems to be troubling you?”

“Well, two things really. First…I know you’re way smarter than me.” Nezu chuckled quietly, and Izuku continued, “So, why send All Might and Togata to me for advice?”

Nezu grinned and nodded, as if Izuku had passed some unspoken test. Instead of answering directly, Nezu asked a question, “Did you know that I became the Principal here when All Might was attending UA?”

Izuku shook his head, wondering just how old the spry creature was.

“Well, there is a certain fear and respect that becomes ingrained in all of my students, and I fear Toshinori is not exempt. Though he is more stubborn than most,” Nezu admitted. After another sip of tea, he sighed. “Part of him still responds to me as that same headstrong teenager. In short, he tends to resist my suggestions and advice. Now, that wouldn’t be a problem if I left him to get over his reservations on his own; he usually comes around in time. But, it’s not just his problem anymore, is it?”

Izuku meets the principal’s eyes. “It’s Togata’s problem now too.”

Nezu nodded. “Yes. Toshinori and Sir Nighteye have done well with the boy, but the power is not truly ‘his’ yet.”

Izuku thought of the bruising he’d seen in the gym. “So, I’m a neutral third party?”

“Something like that. You’re smart and intuitive, especially where quirks are concerned, and all the possibilities you gave me last time we talked are sound and worth investigating. I’m not so much using you as…pointing Toshinori to someone whose advice he’ll be more willing to take at face value.”

Izuku ducked his head to hide his face. Nezu thought he gave good advice? He wasn’t sure what to do with the level of trust these people were putting in him and his hobby.

“Now, I believe that settles that. What was the other reason you sought me out?”

Izuku coughed. Right. This was the tricky part. He hesitantly met Nezu’s eyes. They had that sharp, calculating look to them again. “I was wondering if…you had resources or at least information for some of the local services. Like domestic abuse shelters, mental health and quirk councilors, lawyers doing pro bono cases, stuff like that.” Judging by the rapid blinking, he’d caught Nezu off guard. “Not for me,” he assured with a laugh. “But…with internships coming up, I might run into more people who need those contacts.”

Nezu’s eyes narrowed at his word choice. “Hm…yes, I suppose those are useful resources to have on hand. I’ll see to it that all the hero students receive a packet with the relevant information for their internship locations before they leave.” There was a short pause. “You have someone specific in mind.”

It wasn’t a question, and Izuku knew he’d made the right choice. He gave Nezu a weary grin. “That depends. If one of your students was in trouble, would you notice?”

Nezu’s fur bristled. “Is there something you want to tell me, Midoriya?”

Izuku grimaced and looked away. “It’s not my secret to share. That’s as much as I can give you in good conscience. Just…be careful.”

“Hm…” After considering the grain of his desk for a moment, Nezu nodded. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Midoriya. I will get to the bottom of it.”

Chapter Text

Shota eyed his students as he started handing out folders. “Alright, these packets are from Principal Nezu. Keep the information on you in whatever form you see fit while you’re on your internships.”

“Uh, Aizawa?” Ashido asked. “Why do we need contact info for so many social services?”

Koda gave a rare and smiling response, “I already have all the local animal shelter and rescue numbers in my phone. Why not have ones for people too?”

Shota raised an eyebrow at the quiet boy’s outburst. “Exactly. Keep in mind there’s more than one way to save a person.” He handed out the last of the packets and walked back to the front of the classroom. “You’ll notice there’s also a page for resources here in Musutafu and within UA itself.”

The class looked among themselves for a moment, unsure what he meant by that. Izuku very pointedly didn’t look up from his desk. Shota made a mental note to keep an eye on him. He allowed himself a moment of irritation that the problem child had made his internship choice so quickly. He hadn’t gotten the chance to make his offer. Shota sighed and decided to put the matter aside until after the internships finished. The kid needed more hand to hand training, but he supposed Ms. Joke would teach him something. He just hoped it wasn’t her sense of humor.

He scanned the class again and only found two others to worry about. He could easily write off Iida’s lack of enthusiasm as him still coming to terms with his brother’s injury and forced retirement. He did worry about Tensei’s kid brother though. Shota knew from personal experience how hard it was to have a loved one injured or killed at that age. He’d already warned Manual’s agency of his concerns.

Todoroki was another matter. The kid was hard to read on the best of days, and his expression seemed particularly icy as he scanned the contents of his folder. Nothing obvious to be a cause for concern, but after what he’d seen at the Sports Festival, Shota trusted his instincts. There was something off.

Surprisingly, Bakugo appeared to take interest in the packet, reading through it while tuning out his classmates. Maybe those appointments with Hound Dog were doing him some good after all. Shota allowed himself a small grin behind the safety of his capture weapon.

Deciding he’d given them enough free time, he cleared his throat. A satisfyingly swift silence fell. “Those of you heading out to your internships this evening, be sure to sign out your costumes before the front office closes. The rest of you will be picking up your costumes after homeroom tomorrow.”

Right on time, the bell for lunch rang. “You’re dismissed.”

As everyone filed out, Shota collected his own things to follow suit. He had another problem child to talk to. By the time he got the coffee maker in the teacher’s lounge ticking over, said student was knocking on the door. Shota opened the door to admit Shinso Hitoshi.

“Kayama-sensei said you wanted to see me?” He asked, looking appropriately nervous.

“Yes, have a seat.” He poured himself a coffee while the boy picked a spot on the sofa. “Coffee?”

The worry melted off Shinso’s tired face as he stared longingly at the black liquid. “Please.”

Shota chuckled as he poured a second cup. A kid after his own heart. After taking his own seat, they nursed their mugs for a few minutes. Once Shota could feel the caffeine kicking in, he started, “You did very well in the Sports Festival and made quite the impression. While only the Heroics department conducts internships, you received a fair number of offers.”

Shinso’s tired eyes widened and he straightened in his seat. “What?”

“Unfortunately, the General course doesn’t allow you a week off from classes to accept one…in the usual sense.”

Shinso eyed him but remained silent.

“I’d like to offer you an unofficial internship myself. I’m an underground hero, and most of my patrols are at night. The nights I don’t patrol I’ll drill you in hand to hand and other skills that you’re behind on. Depending on how things go in the next few weeks, there’s a very good chance you’ll be transferred to the Hero course next term.”

The look on Shinso’s face was priceless. “I…uh, it would be an honor, Eraserhead-sensei,” Shinso said when his brain caught up. “What should I wear? I don’t have a costume, and my jo staff kinda got toasted.”

Shota smiled. Shinso leaned back slightly. “You should swing by the Development Studio. You might be surprised.” Shota stood to take his empty mug to the sink. “Oh, and you’ll want to check your costume out before the office closes today. Your internship starts tonight; we’re meeting here after school. I already cleared it with your parents.”

Shota watched the excited student leave. Midoriya had been right about his friend. Shinso would be in class 1-A soon enough. There was no reason he couldn’t be trained in the meantime.

---

Izuku and Iida walked to the front office together to sign out their hero costumes. Iida was catching a train out to Hosu in an hour to be on site for an early patrol tomorrow, and Izuku had an appointment with Dr. Tsubasa. He planned to leave straight from there to catch the train to Ketsubutsu. As far as Izuku knew, he was the only one from his class interning with an underground hero, and Ms. Joke had sent word that she wanted to start tonight.

“Idaten works with a few underground heroes, right?” Izuku asked. “What do you think it’ll be like?”

Iida blinked and looked over at his friend. “The underground heroes tend to handle more…delicate cases from what I understand. They’re much more reliant on stealth. They do call in help from the daylight heroes and police for larger busts on occasion. I’m afraid I haven’t met the ones associated with Idaten personally.” He stared down the train tracks, though Izuku had a feeling he was looking much further away. “My brother has spoken of Ms. Joke a few times though. I’m sure she will have much to teach you.”

“I hope I can keep up. I know I’ll be sore tomorrow,” Izuku said, grimacing in anticipation. He shook his head. “I hope your internship with Manual is educational too…And Iida?”

Iida turned to face his friend again. There was a coldness to Iida’s normally friendly eyes, the beginnings of bags under his eyes. Izuku didn’t think he’d seen Iida smile since the Sports Festival, and Iida had been far too quiet these last days.

Izuku swallowed. “You know you’re not alone, right? If you need someone—for anything—I’m only one call away.” He didn’t say it out loud, but he was certain he could bribe Kurogiri again if it came to it. He had a really bad feeling about letting Iida go back to Hosu alone.

Iida didn’t force a smile, but his eyes softened just a little as he nodded. A train screeched to a stop at the station, and the moment passed. Izuku’s train was here. They parted without a word, though Iida did wave as the train pulled away.

Izuku didn’t have to wait long when he reached the hospital. A nurse showed him to a room, and Dr. Tsubasa walked in a few minutes later with a prepped IV bag. When he’d visited the doctor for his follow up visit before the Sports Festival, they’d run some bloodwork. Apparently, his immune system was a little off. Tsubasa wasn’t sure if it was something genetic or a lingering side effect from being sick or getting healed so many times. He’d recommended a series of treatments to hopefully correct the problem before he could get sick again. He’d been getting them once a week since then.

Izuku kept his mind too busy to dwell on the fact he was in a hospital—alone—while Tsubasa set up the IV drip. It was a small bag, but he was still stuck here for 30 minutes while everything was pumped into his system. He pulled his phone out and tried to suppress the occasional shiver while he waited. The shivers were an expected side effect of the medication, but that didn’t mean he had to like them. The muscle and bone aches the day after each treatment were less pleasant, but at least he got to be at home or school for those.

And hey, if the treatments kept him healthy long term he wasn’t going to complain. Overall, he did feel better since starting them. His stamina was improving, and he was rapidly regaining the strength he’d lost while sick and then some.

A few hours later, he stood outside the front gates of Ketsubutsu, feeling distinctly out of place in his UA uniform. Ms. Joke was waiting for him, smiling. “Midoriya! Long time no see. How’s…” she trailed off as she caught sight of his right hand. Her smile stayed, but her eyes were as sharp as flint as she looked the rest of him over. “USJ?” she asked.

“Ah…no, this was an accident in a training exercise,” Izuku said, scratching the back of his head. “You saw Bakugo in the Festival?”

Izuku and Ms. Joke talked as they made their way into the city. The agency wasn’t far from here, but much harder to locate than the school campus. With the number of turns and alleys Ms. Joke led him down, he doubted he’d have been able to find the building on his own. The entrance was an unmarked door in an empty alleyway. Once you stepped inside though…

Several heroes in costume—and several more people out of costume—stopped momentarily to examine who had entered. Then the sprawling office space returned to chaotic life. Lots of desks, lots of filing cabinets and computers, and half a dozen coffee makers in the kitchenette off to one side. Izuku stared at the scene for a minute, taking it all in. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but he hadn’t thought an underground hero’s agency would be this…lively. Especially when the sun hadn’t even set yet.

Ms. Joke clapped a hand on his shoulder and guided him to a staircase. “Come on, Midoriya. Sleeping quarters are up here.” They climbed past the second floor, which appeared to be sectioned off meeting rooms and private offices and the third floor which housed a small medical bay, two training rooms, and the agency’s support lab. The fourth floor looked like a standard apartment building hallway.

Ms. Joke handed him a key and gave him a gentle push. “You’ll be staying in the last room on the left. Once you’re settled in, change into your costume and meet me in the support lab.”

Izuku quickly unpacked and texted his dad and friends to let them know he’d made it to Ms. Joke’s agency safely. Then he changed into his costume. Aside from the glove/bracer changeup, the only surprises in his case were a canister of spare taser discs, chargers for his staff and bracers, and a small notebook and pen. A sticky note was attached to the notebook: “For recording all those quirk analyses and blueprint ideas on the fly.”

Izuku grinned and shook his head, tucking the notebook and pen into one empty pocket on his utility belt and his room key and phone into another. He left his hood and mouthguard down as he tromped back down the stairs to the third floor. He found Ms. Joke talking to another hero in the medical bay. This one had what looked like a sleeping mask covering the upper half of his face, messy black hair, and pajamas that Izuku strongly suspected were armor-plated.

Apparently, the man could see through his mask, because he turned to wave at Izuku as he approached. “So, you’re the munchkin that caught Joke’s eye.” He held out a gloved hand for Izuku to shake. “Gotta say, your costume’s more sensible than I expected for a first year. I’m Sleeper, by the way.”

“Midoriya Izuku, hero name Deku,” Izuku said, shaking the man’s hand.

Ms. Joke grinned and rested a hand on Sleeper’s shoulder. “Yep, this guy’s our resident sleeper. If you ever have trouble nodding off or need to readjust your sleeping schedule, he’s usually on call.”

Izuku got the impression Sleeper rolled his eyes behind his mask. “She means my quirk puts people to sleep.” He took off one glove and held his hand up. “Naptime requires five finger contact, and the target’s out for exactly six hours. No more, no less. They could sleep through a bomb going off.”

“That is so cool,” Izuku said, already itching to pull out his notebook. “My quirk’s Hyper-Processing.”

After swapping questions for a few minutes, the trio wandered over to the support lab. “Alright, kid,” Sleeper said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s see what gear you’ve got, and Snitch and I will tell you if you need any additions before you follow Joke on her patrol tonight.”

“Snitch?”

“Hiya!” A lady with neon orange hair popped into the room from a closet. She had nearly as many gadgets hanging off of her as Hatsume.

Izuku jumped and definitely didn’t squeak.

“Ah, he’s cute!” the lady declared. “I’m Snitch, eavesdropper extraordinaire. I specialize in surveillance tech, but I always love tinkering with a good idea. So, what did you bring me?”

After detailing his costume and gear, he hesitantly admitted to having a set of lockpicks. None of the heroes batted an eye, and Sleeper nodded approvingly. Snitch tapped a pen against her chin for a minute. “You’re pretty well-rounded, but you could use a bit more mobility if you’re going to keep up with the boss.” She turned to dig through a bin in the closet before tossing something to Izuku.

Izuku barely caught the thing and blinked in surprise when he realized what he was holding. “Is this a grapple gun?”

Ms. Joke smiled, and for just a moment, the expression reminded him of Aizawa. “Have you ever done freerunning before, Deku?”

Chapter Text

Freerunning was a lot harder than it sounded, more tiring too. After getting a crash course—emphasis on crash—on using the grapple gun, Ms. Joke dragged him out into the city for his first lesson in freerunning while they still had the benefit of daylight. There was a lot of tripping and falling involved. He managed not to sprain or twist anything hopping around rooftops though.

“Alright, let’s take a quick break for some dinner, then I’ll show you the usual patrol route. Since you don’t have your provisional license, you are not to engage, only observe. Got it?”

Izuku dropped into a sitting position on the roof they currently stood on. “Sure. But what do I do if you get into trouble?”

“You use the comm Snitch gave you to call in backup. If all else fails, hold the button on the comm down for ten seconds. That’ll send out an SOS to every police radio and on-duty hero in a ten-mile radius.” Joke pointed to a fire escape, and Izuku reluctantly dragged himself to shaky feet to follow her. “We shouldn’t run into much trouble tonight. I’m meeting an informant but don’t have anything else planned.”

“An informant?”

“Yeah. Have you heard of the Machinists?”

“They’re that gang centered around tech quirks, right?”

Ms. Joke hopped from the bottom of the fire escape to the alley below and looked back up at him. “That’s them. Their activity’s picked up after Ingenium was hospitalized. They were one of Idaten’s cases, but I’m on decent terms with my contact in the group. So, my agency’s taken over that case while Idaten deals with the Hero Killer.”

“Yeah, I can imagine they’ve got their hands full,” Izuku said, thinking about how worn down Tensei’s mom had looked at the hospital. He waited to ask questions until after he dropped down onto the ground too. His landing was less graceful than Ms. Joke’s, but he was satisfied with not falling over at this point. “How does an agency transferring a case that big even work? Don’t the Machinists run throughout most of Japan?”

Ms. Joke was already walking toward the mouth of the alley when she answered. “Depends on the agency and the case. Most would just send over a copy of all the files if the case isn’t too sensitive. The Machinists are a…special case. They’re not as high a priority as the Hero Killer or the League of Villains, since they don’t directly commit violent crimes. But they are an extensive network, and we know they have several hackers in their group. So, any documents sent electronically can’t be trusted. I’ll probably send someone to pick up a hard copy of everything from Idaten later this week.”

Izuku nodded. From the rumors he’d heard in middle school, the Machinists were more in the body modification and invasive/illegal support gear market. Chances were if you saw someone sporting a mechanical mutation or quirk working at a tattoo or piercing shop, they were connected. Izuku’s dad had warned him about the group when Tomura had debated getting a tattoo last year. Izuku still wasn’t 100% sure Dad hadn’t exaggerated to discourage him getting one too.

Izuku asked a few more questions about the Machinists and inter-agency communication while they ate korokke from a street vendor. Ms. Joke answered happily. As the sun set, they climbed back onto the rooftops and set off again.

They traveled around the city for a few hours, Ms. Joke occasionally stopping to point out problem areas of town or comment on the types of crimes that predominated the areas they passed through. For their first night, she purposely steered them clear of the red light district and the sketchier neighborhoods. “We’ll patrol those neighborhoods later in the week, once I’m confident you won’t fall between buildings. Not all the fire escapes there are trustworthy.”

Izuku would have been miffed if he had the energy for it. Instead, he focused on keeping up. Ms. Joke was fast and didn’t even seem winded. Who knew underground heroics involved this much running? Did daylight heroes run this much? He sank so far into his thoughts that when the running abruptly stopped, he almost missed it.

Ms. Joke held up a hand to signal him to stop, and Izuku froze, looking around for trouble. Ms. Joke was doing the same, though she seemed to be looking for something specific. He relaxed when he heard the hero laugh. She vaulted over the side of the building and jumped back and forth between it and the adjacent structure to slow her descent, landing right next to…a stripper?

Ms. Joke threw her arms wide. “Opal! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. How’s the boyfriend? Still giving him blue balls?”

Opal gave a flawless smile upon seeing Joke and answered, “Nah, honey. That’s just his skin tone.”

They both laughed at the apparent inside joke. Izuku wasn’t sure if he was supposed to go down there or not. So, he waited and observed the new person. Opal had frosty blue-purple hair and light, almost glowing skin, to the point Izuku wondered if that’s where her name came from. Maybe it was her quirk or a mutation. Her dress certainly showed off a lot of it. The only thing breaking up the visible skin was a few swirls of dark blue ink encircling one bicep. He couldn’t make out what the tattoo was supposed to be from his perch, but he saw tiny patches of light travel along the lines almost like…

“A circuit board,” he whispered. Opal was Ms. Joke’s Machinist contact. Izuku stared at the tattoo in fascination as the ladies exchanged a few quiet words. Was it a quirk? Tech? A combination of the two? It looked so cool!

Then Ms. Joke looked up and called, “Why don’t you come on down and say hi, Deku? She won’t bite.”

“Unless you pay for it,” Opal added with a teasing smirk, looking up at him too.

Joke laughed again, and Izuku’s face turned beet red under his hood and mouthguard. He carefully made his way down to the pair and muttered, “Hi.”

Ms. Joke slung an arm around his shoulders and said, “This is the one I was telling you about. Kid’s doing heroics and support at the same time.”

Opal tilted his head up with a hand under his chin. After scanning his face for a moment, she smiled. “Oh yeah. I saw you in the Sports Festival. Did pretty good for not having a flashy quirk. Tinker and Gadgetron would love you.”

Izuku wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or concerned. “Um, thanks?”

“Now what were you saying about Deika?” Ms. Joke asked.

Opal released Izuku’s chin and looked back to Ms. Joke. “Deika City. The Machinists are pulling out. Fast. I don’t know what happened, or what intel they got ahold of, but they’re abandoning any and all recruits from that place. Gadgetron warned the network that they’re blacklisted. It’s weird.”

Ms. Joke frowned. “Takes a lot to spook that guy. Any idea where they’re relocating to?”

Opal shrugged. “Think they’re rolling it into the Nagoya operation. Not sure. I’ll keep an ear to the ground and another on the network,” she said, tapping her tattoo.

Izuku’s eyes widened, and he spoke before he could stop himself, “That’s functional? I thought it just looked awesome.”

Opal laughed. “Nah, kid. Function before beauty.” She winked. “This piece of Tinker’s work makes any electronics on me untraceable.” She held her left arm out and turned it.

Izuku could see faint traces of light moving under her skin down the inside of her arm to her palm. The tech went under her skin. Izuku suppressed the urge to shudder. There wasn’t even a scar. Just how advanced was Tinker’s work? If not for the ban on internal support tech, what sort of good could they be doing? Could they find a way to alleviate Hitoshi’s migraines? Or Izuku’s muscle spasms?

“I’m no modder, but I’m pretty sure Tinker could find a way. She does love a challenge.”

“No! No body modding on my watch. Eraser would actually kill me,” Ms. Joke said, oddly serious. “Hero Commission would toss you on your ear if they caught you with any as a pro too.”

Opal smirked. “You goody two shoes don’t know what you’re missing.”

---

Izuku hadn’t been so happy to see a bed in years. The second he was out of his hero costume he collapsed into his bed and fell asleep. When he rejoined the land of the living it was nearly noon. True to his expectations, he was stiff as a board and everything hurt. He hobbled to the shower and felt a little better after soaking in the blistering heat for a while.

When he made it to the kitchenette downstairs Sleeper looked him over. “Sleep wrong?”

“No, more sore than usual. Beginning to think freerunning across the city after getting my treatment was a bad idea.” He’d mentioned his ongoing medical stuff yesterday while talking about his gear. Snitch had been interested in the anti-friction lining in his gloves, and one thing had led to another.

Izuku took a danish from the box on the counter and filled a glass with water. Sleeper pulled a bottle of aspirin out of one of the drawers and tossed it to him. “Thanks.” Something that mild wouldn’t do much against the way his nerves worked, but the thought was nice.

Sleeper hummed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He tapped away at it while Izuku leaned against the counter and ate. The office was just as busy today as yesterday, though there were fewer people in costume at the moment. If most of the underground heroes patrolled at night or into the early morning, it made sense they weren’t around yet. Did some of them have day jobs too? Or was that just a Ms. Joke and Eraserhead thing? He shrugged and grabbed a second danish.

Ms. Joke walked in as he finished off his glass of water. She had a bag slung over one shoulder. She spotted Izuku and said, “Whatcha still doing in civies? Get changed, Deku. We’ve got a train to catch.”

Izuku tilted his head. “I thought we were doing more freerunning today.”

“Change of plans. We’re headed to Hosu. The school put a care package together for Ingenium, and we might as well pick up those files while there.”

Right, Ketsubutsu’s school nurse did medical support. That meant she could help from a distance. Izuku grinned and put his glass in the sink. “I’ll be right back.”

Ten minutes later Izuku limped back down the stairs, fully suited up. Ms. Joke didn’t mention his stilted gait, instead talking about when she’d first met Ingenium. “Shota was so mad that I managed to tail him. I think Hizashi pulled something with how hard he laughed. That man gets me. Poor Tensei was so confused. He asked Shota how long we’d been dating, and that set Nemuri off. Shota looked like he was about to strangle the guy with his scarf. It was hilarious.”

Izuku laughed. “I never realized those four went to UA together.”

“Oh yeah. They’re thick as thieves. Don’t ask them about it though. I never got the full story, but something bad happened. I don’t think their graduating class was a full roster,” Ms. Joke said, voice dropping into something soft and sad for the first time since Izuku had met her.

Izuku chewed that over for a minute in silence. It was all too easy to imagine how something could have gone wrong. And now something else had gone wrong in their group. “I…don’t know how much you know about Tensei’s condition, Ms. Joke, but he’s never going to walk again. Thought you should know before we get there. He’s probably tired of peoples’ initial reactions when they find out.” Izuku knew he’d grown tired of the looks of pity regarding his scar real quick. Another memory nibbled at the back of his mind. The same looks, but he’d been sitting in a hospital room. He shook the uncomfortable memory from his mind.

“Yeah, I imagine you’re right, Deku. Tensei was never one for pity. What he needs right now is a friend and a few laughs. And that is something I excel at.” She gave an overenthusiastic smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thanks for the heads up, though how’d you find out?”

“I went with Tenya—Tensei’s little brother—to the hospital right after it happened.” Izuku shrugged. “Doubt he’ll remember me. He was pretty out of it when Tenya and his mom talked to him.”

Conversation shifted to Izuku’s other friends as they reached the train station. Ms. Joke was especially interested in Shinso. She’d put an offer in for him too, but with him being in the General course, she wasn’t surprised he was unable to take it. “Ah, there’s always next year. I’m just glad I could steal you away from Shota this once. He tends to snatch up every underground hopeful in his class.”

“Really? He never mentioned anything to me.”

Ms. Joke shrugged. “Maybe he’s focusing on your friend this time. I’ll bet you anything Shinso’ll be in your class before the end of the year.”

“I hope so.” Shinso would make a great hero. He just needed half a chance. He was glad that the teachers at UA were so much better than the ones at Aldera. They actually cared and…Izuku drew up short as a half-formed idea that had been bouncing around in the back of his head for several days solidified and rose to the surface. “Do you think Tensei would ever want to teach?”

Chapter Text

“Emi? What are you doing here?” Tensei’s voice—weak as it was—carried in the empty room.

Izuku very quickly tried to think of something else. He really did hate hospitals.

“As if I wouldn’t come visit you,” Ms. Joke said, walking further into the room. “Honestly, Tensei, I thought it would be Shota who’d end up like this first. At least it wasn’t Hizashi. Then I’d owe Nemuri 10,000 yen. Neither of us thought it would be you.” The smile on her face wavered, but she held on to it as best she could as she took the empty seat next to his bed.

“It’s a weekday, though. You teach…” Tensei’s eyebrows furrowed under the bandage wrapped around his head. The unfocused look in his eyes spoke of a concussion or the good kind of painkillers, maybe both.

He twitched a hand in Ms. Joke’s direction, and she grabbed it with one of hers. Her smile was a bit more sincere as she whispered, “I cheated. I’m here with my intern.” She pointed at Izuku, who hovered awkwardly by the door. “We’re totally in Hosu on agency business.”

Tensei stared at Izuku for a minute, clearly trying to place him. Izuku pushed his hood back and removed his mouthguard. He gave the hero a wave. “Midoriya Izuku. I was here with Tenya when you got out of surgery.”

“Ah, Tenya’s friend. I remember you, but that’s not your name.”

Izuku frowned and tilted his head.

“You’re in costume. What’s your hero name?”

Izuku almost snorted. He did smile. “I’m Deku.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Deku.” A faint grin tugged at Tensei’s lips. “Has Emi been giving you the run around?”

Izuku grimaced. “If you mean teaching me freerunning and parkour, then yes.”

“He only faceplanted once!” Emi added, smiling. “He’s a quick learner.”

Izuku rubbed at the bridge of his nose. This was what he got for coming here with Ms. Joke.

“I see he’s been learning from Aizawa too. I’d know that ‘done’ look anywhere.”

Izuku glanced up at Tensei, caught the teasing glint in his eye, and dissolved into giggles. “At least I haven’t picked up his smile yet.”

“Please no. The world can’t handle more than one person with that.”

---

Time went faster than Izuku expected. He didn’t feel left out either. It was kinda weird watching Ms. Joke and Tensei interact. Izuku wondered if he and his friends would be like this when they were older. So relaxed and at ease around each other.

Speaking of…Izuku pulled his phone out and checked the 1-A discord that Ashido had made. A lot of his classmates were complaining or gushing about their internships, but a quick scroll through the messages showed Iida hadn’t been on. Izuku frowned and swapped over to texting. “In Hosu with Ms. Joke on business. I think she just wanted to visit Tensei. You doing okay?”

He looked out the window to see twilight fading toward night. Was Iida still out patrolling with Manual? Izuku wasn’t sure if he expected a text back either way. If he was still out, hopefully they’d head back soon. The Hero Killer was still at large, and more of his hits occurred at night.

Now there was a thought. At this moment Izuku was in the same city as an accomplished serial killer. Who targeted heroes. And he was in his hero costume. And traveling with a hero. Yeah, nope. Not concerning at…

Izuku slowly rose from the seat he’d taken, eyes still locked on the window. “Ms. Joke,” he hissed.

He heard her chair scrape the tile behind him, and she walked around the bed to join him. “What’s—that’s a fire.”

As they watched the steadily growing orange glow and rising smoke a few blocks away, something leaped above one of the buildings. Bulging muscle and eyes, exposed brain. News footage the day after the USJ flashed through Izuku’s mind, and his blood turned to ice. “That’s a Nomu!” Then a second—this one with wings—flew up to join it.

“Deku, guard Tensei! Hit that SOS button if one of those things gets too close.” Ms. Joke was already running for the door.

“What about you? I don’t think Outburst will work on Nomu.”

“Only one way to find out, right?”

“Be careful,” Tensei added.

Ms. Joke stopped in the doorway long enough to nod at Tensei and give Izuku a stern look. Then she was gone.

Izuku paced nervously, glancing between the door and the window. Yes, Tensei needed to be guarded, because if the League and Stain were working together—and why else would Nomu turn up in the same city as Stain’s current killing spree—someone might come to finish the job. But at the same time, there were civilians out there—and likely his friend—in danger.

“Deku.” Izuku stopped and looked at Tensei. He looked far more tired than he had earlier, but his eyes were calm. “Go stand by the window and tell me what’s happening.”

Glad to have some direction, Izuku did just that. “The fire’s spread, though more toward us than any other direction. It’s possible that one of the Nomu has a fire quirk…” Izuku squinted against the glare on the window to see the street directly below them. “People on our street are evacuating, and there are several heroes on scene trying to keep the fire away. Oh, yep, there’s a Nomu. That makes three. More backup’s just arrived.”

Izuku frowned, looking more closely. There was a flash of light reflecting off metal, and Izuku’s eyes widened. “Manual and Tenya are here.” No sooner had the words left his mouth then Tenya ran off at quirk speed when Manual’s back was turned, veering into an alleyway and out of sight. Izuku’s stomach fell somewhere past his feet.

“What’s happening?”

Izuku answered shakily, “Tenya just ran off.” Manual noticed now and was looking around frantically.

Tensei swore under his breath. Izuku turned to meet his eyes. They both had a good idea of what he was doing. “I have to go after him,” Izuku said, mind racing. Tenya was fast, but he was stuck to street level and following the roads and alleys. If Izuku used his grapple gun and freeran across the rooftops, he could cut straight across the city. If he only knew where Tenya was going.

“Deku, don’t. There are plenty of heroes in the city. They’ll stand a better chance against Stain. You don’t have to—”

“But he’s my friend!” Izuku interrupted. Unspoken was his distrust of the heroes reaching Tenya in time. Memories of the sludge villain attack haunted him. The pros had done nothing then, and they had at least three other threats to deal with now. All Might wasn’t going to swoop in and save anyone this go around.

Tensei and Izuku stared each other down. Finally, Tensei took a deep breath. “You’re going regardless of what I say.” It was a statement of fact. As he continued, his voice took on an air of authority and confidence Izuku hadn’t heard from the man yet—in person. He had heard it in news interviews of his agency. “Don’t let him cut you. I’m not sure of the exact trigger, but I wasn’t paralyzed—by his quirk—until after he stabbed me. As the pro hero Ingenium, I hereby grant you permission to use your quirk in self-defense and defense of others.”

Izuku blinked in surprise. Was that allowed? Izuku decided not to question it. He nodded.

Ingenium’s steel gaze softened to something much more civilian. “Please bring my brother home safe.”

Izuku saluted. “You can count on me, Ingenium.” He checked back out the window to see Endeavor had shown up to barbeque the Nomu closest to them. That was somewhere between terrifying and reassuring. At least the number two hero wasn’t likely to seek Tensei out to kill him. “The Nomu on this street is down. You should be okay for now.”

He didn’t look back as he sprinted from the room.

A few hours’ rest had done him good, but it wasn’t enough to pacify his burning muscles and aching bones. Two blocks into his run and he gritted his teeth at the pain and wincing at every landing. He couldn’t afford to slow down though. Tenya was running toward trouble if he hadn’t found it already.

“Think!” he growled to himself as he jumped between two apartment buildings. Stain tended to attack in out of the way alleys, far from the main thoroughfares and prying eyes. He wanted his victims isolated and helpless. So, the farther away from the cluster of heroes chasing and fighting the Nomu, the better.

Once far enough from the chaos that the fighting was reduced to a faint hum, Izuku started scanning the alleys as he ran alongside or jumped over them. His desperation and sense of urgency rose with each cleared alley and dead end.

A sharp clang of metal on metal echoed through the air to his right. Izuku turned without pausing to think and cleared the gap between buildings, rolling on impact with the new roof. He came to a stop in a crouch, listening carefully. He thought he heard a voice. Creeping forward, Izuku peered over the edge into the next alley. He froze as he watched a man pull a katana from a downed victim’s shoulder. The victim wore a very familiar suit of armor. The swordsman wore an odd mix of combat gear and bandages with a long, tattered scarf flowing behind him.

It took a moment longer for Izuku to register that there was a third person in the alleyway. A name rose to Izuku’s mind as he took in their tribal costume: pro hero Native. He wasn’t a widely known hero, but he had a good track record when it came to rescue missions.

Izuku beat back his inner hero nerd and focused back on the man with his combat boot pressing Iida’s head into the pavement. Crap. With two victims, he was limited on options. He couldn’t just grab Iida and try to run. Even if he could manage his tall friend’s weight, there was no way he could move two fast enough to escape. How was he supposed to protect—did Stain just lick his sword? It probably had something to do with his quirk.

Izuku held down the button on his comm earpiece and waited for the beep signifying the SOS had been sent. Just to be safe, he also pulled his phone out and sent a mass text to all of his contacts. He couldn’t win in a head to head fight against someone with this much experience, and he couldn’t run. But he could stall. Hopefully, someone would get here in time.

“Goodbye, child. May your death bring about a better world.”

Izuku’s breath caught at those words, and he looked back into the alley. He saw Stain raising his sword for a killing blow. Izuku pushed his quirk without thinking, dropped his phone, and moved. He vaulted over the lip of the building, darting his eyes around the alley. The barest beginnings of a plan formed. Izuku aimed his left hand at Stain’s chest and pressed the trigger on the side of his index finger. Once the taser disc was clear of his glove, he reached for his jo staff with one hand and his grapple gun with the other. He fired the grapple gun at the roof of the building across the alley from him and held on tight.

Time sped up as the taser disc and grappling hook connected with their respective targets. Stain jerked and stumbled a few steps back from Iida. Izuku’s arm protested the strain as the line on his gun pulled taunt, and he swung into a powerful kick aimed at Stain’s abdomen. Both feet connected, and Izuku released his hold on the grapple gun as he kicked off of the stunned criminal.

Izuku stumbled as he landed. Man, his knees hurt. At least there was space between Stain and his victims now. Izuku took a quick look at each to confirm they were both breathing. He returned his gaze to the recovering Hero Killer while he said, “Don’t worry, Iida, Native. I’m here to save you.”

“Midoriya, please,” Izuku stopped at the raw pain in Iida’s voice. “Don’t get involved. This doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Iida,” Izuku said without turning, wishing he had the time to really talk to his friend.

The Hero Killer returned his stare with an appraising one of his own. “So, you came to save your friend, even though you’re injured? How heroic. Unfortunately, I have a duty to kill him.”

Izuku didn’t want to admit how unnerved he was. Stain had picked up on his weakness when they hadn’t properly fought yet.

Iida tried to dissuade him again. “Please just run away. This isn’t your fight.”

Izuku ground his teeth. “Iida, I thought you paid attention in class. Didn’t you hear when All Might told us that meddling when you don’t need to is the essence of being a hero?” Izuku tightened his hold on his jo staff and extended it out to full length. He took a step forward and settled into a ready stance. “So, I’m not going anywhere.”

Stain grinned at Izuku’s speech, which only unnerved him more. “Bold words for someone who’s barely standing.” Then he moved.

Izuku’s eyes flew wide, and the world slowed again. He had no idea Stain moved so fast. He could barely track him without kicking Hyper-Processing into overdrive. He ducked under a sideways sweep of Stain’s katana and swung his staff to deflect the man’s other hand which now held a large knife with a serrated edge. Izuku wondered with sudden unease how long he could keep up fighting like this. He’d never tested his quirk in anything but short bursts.

He activated the shock feature of his staff while it was still in contact with Stain’s arm, then raised one leg to kick him back with a solid blow to the sternum. He grimaced at the pain that lanced up his leg and through his arms, but turned the expression into a snarl as he watched Stain for another move.

Two shocks in such a short time made the serial killer a bit wary, but he wasn’t put off his hunt. He grinned and moved forward again. “Is that your quirk? Electrifying objects?”

Izuku deflected the katana with his jo staff this time, then used his right bracer to block the knife. He was thankful for the added armor, even if the taser launcher on that bracer was now busted. “No,” Izuku ground out as he backed away and brought his jo staff back into a two-handed hold. He pushed the limits of his speed to bring his jo staff down in a blow aimed at the man’s right shin. He needed to slow this guy down.

Stain jumped over the blow, surprising Izuku. He then threw his knife.

Izuku jerked out of the way so fast his side twinged in warning. Adrenaline helped him push the pain to the back of his mind, but he couldn’t completely ignore the light shaking in his arms as he continued to hold his staff. None of his joint locks were likely to work when he was already in this bad of shape, even if he wanted to get close enough to try them. He didn’t know how many more hits he could dish out with his jo staff, but he’d be damned if he just gave up.

Izuku took up the offensive again, trying to land a hit. Either the Hero Killer was getting faster, or Izuku’s hold on his quirk was slipping. He tried to shock Stain with his staff again, but the man saw him move to press the button and backed away in time to avoid it. Then Stain flung another knife.

Izuku pushed his quirk again, feeling a pressure build behind his eyes as he did so. He followed the blade’s trajectory and saw it wasn’t aimed for him, but Iida. He swung his jo staff to the side just in time to knock the blade out of the air. He paid the price of his left arm seizing.

He didn’t have time to turn back around before Stain was there. Izuku didn’t even feel the cut. But Stain had another knife in hand, and its edge was coated in blood. Stain smiled and licked the blade—no, the blood on the blade. Izuku’s muscles all stopped responding, and he collapsed.

“You’re not powerful, but I can appreciate your tenacity. In this society of false heroes that are all talk, I think you might be worth keeping alive.” Stain walked past him, headed for Iida. “But these two need to go.”

Izuku’s heart beat frantically as he tried to move. Nothing was working. He couldn’t watch Iida die right in front of him. “No, stop!” Moonlight glinted off of Stain’s raised katana. Then the alley filled with fire. “Todoroki?”

Izuku had never been so happy to see his particolored classmate. “I figured something was wrong between the text and all the heroes getting pinged with a mayday, but I really could have used a few more details, Midoriya.” A wave of ice followed his words, pushing Stain back and creating a slope for Izuku and Native to roll and slide down, putting them next to Iida and further from danger. Izuku ended up on his back next to his friend. “Don’t worry. The pros will be here soon.”

“Heh. You’ve got good friends, Ingenium. Or you did.”

“Stop it,” Iida pleaded. “His fight is with me. I inherited my brother’s name. I should be the one to stop him.”

Izuku tried to glare at his friend, but couldn’t turn his head. “Your brother doesn’t want you to avenge him, Iida; he wants you to live!”

From Izuku’s new position, he couldn’t see much of the fight that followed, but he could hear the repeated crack of ice and roar of flame. Todoroki was using his left side. That almost made Izuku smile. What did make him smile was spotting Ms. Joke peeking down from the roof.

She had her mask on now, and she didn’t look pleased. She watched until Todoroki pushed Stain back and launched another wall of ice. Then she used her quirk. Stain started laughing hysterically and didn’t recover fast enough to dodge. The ice encased him, leaving his head and hands free. Ms. Joke parkoured her way down the ice spikes to punch the man into unconsciousness for good measure.

The second the man was out, his hold on everyone dropped. Izuku started to sit up, but aborted the movement when the pain and dizziness registered. He decided to stay down as Iida and Native moved. Between the pounding in his skull, the sharp pain in his right calf where he suspected he’d been cut by Stain’s knife, and the generalized burning ache, he wished Sleeper were here to put him out of his misery.

Slightly fuzzy faces appeared above him, and Izuku squinted. “Midoriya, are you alright?” Todoroki asked.

Izuku huffed out a small laugh. “No, don’t think I can move.”

“Deku, you were supposed to guard Tensei,” Ms. Joke said, shaking her head as she came into view. “That leg doesn’t look too bad. Where else are you hurt?”

Izuku shook his head slowly. “Not hurt. Overused my quirk. Headache’s getting worse, and everything’s fuzzy and sore.”

Ms. Joke sighed as she tied off a quick bandage around the cut on Izuku’s leg. When did she start working on his leg? “Okay, let’s get you up and to the hospital. Native, you got Stain?”

Izuku might have blacked out briefly when he was moved. They were on the street now, and he was draped over Ms. Joke’s back. He narrowed his eyes. There were more heroes too. Where’d they come from? And why was there yelling?

He was brought fully back to the present when pain tore into his upper back and chest. Adrenaline snapped everything into horrifying clarity. There were talons piercing between his costume’s armor plates to bury in his flesh, and he was very high off the ground and getting higher. He looked up to see the winged Nomu looking back at him. A freaking Nomu kidnapped him!

They stared at each other for a moment; then the Nomu pulled Izuku a little closer to sniff him, making a sound somewhere between a growl and a hum. Izuku decided it probably wasn’t a good sound. He struggled against the pain to move his left arm. He still had a few taser discs in that launcher if he could angle it right. Black spots danced across his vision as he moved muscles skewered by claws. Then he didn’t need to.

The Nomu shuddered and went limp, and they were falling. Izuku clamped his eyes shut, not really wanting to know how long he had before going splat. An arm wrapped around him, and someone pried the talons loose. Then he was being carried again. He fought to open his eyes when he felt himself being set down on solid, safe concrete. When did it get so hard to open his eyes?

“Stain?” Izuku whispered, confused. The serial killer turned away from him to face…ah, the heroes. When did Endeavor get here?

Stain yelled something at the gathering, but the words were garbled. Everything felt oddly numb and distant. Izuku’s vision blurred. He blinked in attempt to clear it, but his eyelids refused to open again once they slid shut.

Chapter Text

Inhale, hold, exhale. Izuku repeated the breathing exercise until he lost count. He wished he wasn’t hooked up to all these stupid machines. It was hard to focus on not being anxious when he could hear himself failing by the rapid beep of the heart monitor. And all the little adhesive patches for the sensors on his head were starting to itch. Anxious and itchy. If that wasn’t a combination from hell. He sympathized with Tomura so much right now.

He wasn’t sure how long he was awake before someone walked into his room. “Ah, someone’s finally up,” Ms. Joke said. “Let me get the nurse to unhook you.” An hour and several exams and recordings of vitals later, and he was disconnected from all the medical contraptions.

Izuku sighed. “Thank you.”

Ms. Joke chuckled. “Not gonna lie, you looked pretty green when I walked in, and not because of your hair. Don’t like hospitals, I take it?”

“No, not really. It’s not even the hospital’s fault. Just…brings up bad memories. Being alone in a hospital is worse.”

His mentor hummed and nodded. “Well, lucky for you, you can be moved into a room with your friends now that you’re conscious. They’ve been worried about you.” After a short pause, she added, “We all were.”

30 minutes later, a nurse wheeled him into a hospital room where Iida and Todoroki were awake and waiting for him. The nurse helped him move from the wheelchair to one of the beds before leaving. He gave his friends a sheepish smile and waved. “Hey, guys. What did I miss? Are you both okay?”

Todoroki walked up to him and stared at his face intently. “You had to go to emergency surgery and were unconscious for a day and a half. I think we get to ask if you’re okay first.”

“That explains why all the muscle aches are gone now. Wait, I had surgery?!”

“I’m sure they’ll tell you the details later,” Iida said.

Meanwhile, Izuku was taking stock of himself, trying to figure out what would have been serious enough to require an operation. The cut on his leg was stitched and bandaged. He almost forgot about the Nomu injuries until he tried to bend over to see his leg injury better. He moved the collar of his shirt enough to see three stitched gashes on the front of his left shoulder. The skin around that area was a dark purplish-red. “Yikes.” Similar wounds marked his right shoulder, though there was far less discoloring there.

After a few more minutes of poking at suture lines, they circled back around to the topic of what had happened. Stain was in custody and on his way to Tartarus after picking a fight with Endeavor and almost winning. All three Nomu had been taken care of—two killed and one detained, also on its way to Tartarus. Subete and Nomani had been spotted in Hosu but had evaded capture. The police chief had stopped by earlier to talk, but Izuku had missed him. Izuku was partially exempt from the tirade anyway, since he’d had permission to use his quirk from Tensei. The students’ involvement in Stain’s capture was going to be kept under wraps. While that meant they wouldn’t get any praise for the villain’s capture, it did mean Todoroki and Iida could escape punishment for using their quirks to fight without permission.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Todoroki. Thanks for coming.” Then Izuku turned to Iida. His left arm and head were bandaged, and his arm was in a sling. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

Iida’s face scrunched up, whether in anger or pain, Izuku wasn’t sure. “My desire for revenge almost got myself and you two killed. My brother wanted me to take his hero name, but…” He shook his head. Tears glistened in his eyes. “I’m not worthy of it.”

“Then make yourself worthy of it,” Todoroki said firmly. “Ingenium doesn’t quit. So, get up and keep fighting to be the person you want to be.”

Iida gaped at him. After a minute he blinked then nodded, determined fire returning to his eyes. “Right.”

After a few minutes of silence that were strangely comfortable, Iida turned to Izuku. “Midoriya, during the attack you found me. How did you…?”

Izuku looked back over at his friend. “I was at the window in Tensei’s room watching the battle. I saw you run away from Manual, and I just knew.” Izuku let his head fall back against his pillows to stare at the ceiling. “I’m not sure I wouldn’t do the same if I knew who killed my mom.” He glanced down to catch the shocked looks on his friends’ faces. “She was murdered in a villain attack years ago,” he said with a shrug. “So, I get the anger and resentment.”

A doctor walking in stopped their conversation. “Young Iida, your test results are back in. Do you want to go over them in private?”

Iida glanced over at his friends. “In here’s fine.”

“Alright. The wound to your shoulder unfortunately damaged part of your brachial plexus. That’s a bundle of nerves that handles sensation and motor control in your arm. It could have been a lot worse, but you’ll likely have ongoing numbness and some trouble with fine movements of your left hand. There are a few procedures that can help or possibly reverse the damage, but success isn’t guaranteed.”

“I see.” Iida stared at the floor. “I…I have some thinking to do.”

The doctor nodded. “The procedure doesn’t have to be done now or in the immediate future. Chances of success will be better if you’re given time to fully heal anyway.” The doctor then turned to Izuku. “Do you want privacy for your report?”

Izuku glanced down at his leg. It’s not like he could go anywhere on his own. He offered the doctor a wry smile. “I’m good here.”

The doctor returned his grin. “Aside from the expected inflammation from overworking your quirk, your brain scans all look normal. If you get any migraines or blurry vision in the next few days, you’ll want to seek medical attention, just to be safe. Your leg injury wasn’t deep, though I strongly recommend staying off of it for a few more days. Your right shoulder should recover quickly too. From what I heard, you struggled while that thing had its claws in you?”

Izuku nodded, lifting his left hand. “I tried to move my arm to hit the Nomu with a taser.”

“That would explain why your left shoulder was more mangled. A rather large blood vessel was punctured in your struggle. You passed out from the sudden drop in blood pressure. We were able to repair the damage surgically, but again, I must insist you rest. That injury could have easily killed you.”

Izuku swallowed and nodded. “How long until we’re discharged?” He had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t going to like the answer.

The doctor turned to look at Iida and Todoroki. “You two are being discharged this afternoon. Midoriya, you will be free to go tomorrow morning. In cases like yours, we like to see a patient awake for 24 hours before discharge.”

Dread settled in Izuku’s stomach. Todoroki picked up on his discomfort and watched him as the doctor left. Without meeting his friend’s eyes, Izuku gave a nervous laugh. “Not a fan of hospitals.”

Iida frowned at him. “You didn’t say anything when we visited Tensei.”

“Because he was putting someone else’s needs before his,” Todoroki said as if it were obvious.

Izuku forced a smile. “I’ll be okay.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?”

Izuku gave it some actual thought. If he had a distraction, the time would pass faster, but he’d left his phone… “If someone could ask Ms. Joke to retrieve my phone that would be great. I kinda dropped it on the roof when I jumped into the Stain fight.”

Todoroki shook his head. “Of course, you did.”

The request was fulfilled easily enough. Ms. Joke was back an hour later with his phone. “I put your grapple gun and knife with your costume,” she said as she leaned against the wall.

“Knife? I didn’t have a knife.”

Ms. Joke smiled. “Well, you do now. It was embedded in the wall next to your grapple, and there wasn’t any blood on it. So, they shouldn’t need it for evidence. Consider it your reward for doing a good job.” Her smile dropped. “And as punishment for disobeying my order, after you’re discharged, you’re on desk duty for the rest of your internship.”

Izuku flinched and ducked his head. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

---

Tomura set his phone back down on the bar, tension finally leaving his shoulders. “Sensei, are you sure Izuku doesn’t have some sort of trouble magnet quirk?”

The static on the tv cleared to show Sensei’s silhouette. There was a deep chuckle. “I’m sure. It does seem to run in the family though. He contacted you?”

Tomura spun his phone on the counter. “Yeah. He’s awake now. Should be released from the hospital in Hosu tomorrow.”

“That is good. Now we can put aside worry and look to our next step.”

Tomura grumbled before nodding. “I know, I know. Recruitment.”

“Stain may not have worked out, but after the attack on Hosu, many will see him as connected to us. We can use that to our advantage.”

Tomura started to reach for his neck before moving his hand to pick at the wood grain in the counter instead. “If his followers are as annoying as him, I’m not keeping them.”

“The final decision lies with you, Tomura,” Sensei assured. “You will be the one leading them, after all. Choose your companions wisely.”

“Don’t worry, Sensei. I’ll have a leveled team put together before the next dungeon run.”

The tv screen went dark, and Kurogiri set down the glass he’d been cleaning. “About that,” Kurogiri said. “Giran left a message for you earlier. He has found a few potential ‘party’ members. They were asking questions about joining the League. Shall I arrange a meeting?”

Tomura scowled at the counter. His shoulder still hurt from where Stain had stabbed him a few days ago. His anger and quirk were itching to get out. He wanted to go to the beach and destroy a few tons of garbage and rusted steel, but if he didn’t like these people, he supposed they might be fun to destroy too. And it wasn’t like the dump was going anywhere. “Tell Giran to bring them here. Might as well get this over with.”

The next few days passed in a flurry of tense meetings orchestrated by the League’s information broker. Giran had served Sensei for more than a decade, and he didn’t disappoint now. As insufferable and Stain-obsessed as some of the candidates were, they filled out the group nicely. Tomura could tolerate them long enough to use them. If certain individuals ended up captured by the heroes in the League’s next venture, well, it wouldn’t be a real loss.

As Tomura looked around the bar now, he thought something was still missing.

There was the firestarter, Dabi, with his probably longwinded and tragic backstory. He was new to the big crime scene. His attitude and interest in Stain’s ideals rubbed Tomura the wrong way, but at least he seemed capable of critical thinking and strategy.

Toga was…obsessed with Stain and blood and possibly killing Stain. Tomura did not understand her thought process there, but the girl had a list of murders a mile long and a knack for infiltration and knifework. As long as she didn’t point one of those knives at him or the other League members, he could think of several ways to utilize her shapeshifting talents.

Twice was all over the place but one of the least annoying to talk to—once Tomura figured out which half of his words to ignore. Mental issues aside, he was arguably the League’s strongest recruit. And if things didn’t work out for some reason, Sensei and Daruma were keenly interested in him.

Magne had a sizeable criminal record as well, though less bloody than Toga’s. She packed a mean punch at short or long range to boot. She also seemed to have adopted most of the League and was quite good at soothing ruffled feathers when the League members first met. The only one she seemed to have a dislike for was Muscular.

Muscular. Now he was something. Just as bloodthirsty as Toga, but without the excuse of his quirk encouraging his taste for violence. People tended not to survive close range fights with him, and he had the mobility to make any fight close range in the space of a heartbeat. If Dabi’s attitude was annoying, Muscular’s was far worse. The man tended to sneer at anyone he perceived as weaker than him, which made Tomura wonder a bit why he’d joined. Tomura didn’t trust the arrogant muscle head as far as he could throw him, but as long as he was pummeling the heroes, Tomura would take advantage of his…experience.

Mr. Compress couldn’t have been more perfect for the mission Tomura and Sensei had planned if Daruma had designed him. He made offense, defense, and capture look like child’s play—as long as he wasn’t taken by surprise and didn’t get distracted with monologuing. Tomura almost lost patience with his overly dramatic and lengthy intro.

Spinner was another Stain fanatic, but he had manners. While not particularly exceptional in any one area, he was good in several. And with his mutant quirk, he had more reason than most to hate their present society. As long as he had a chance at fixing that, he’d stay loyal.

Mustard was a brat. Tomura barely held himself back from decaying the little shit in their first meeting. What the kid lacked in personality he made up for in power. Not power in the way Muscular had, but in field control and poison. He was near impossible to defend against unless a person specifically prepared to face him. Tomura was suspicious the brat was related to Midnight somehow, and oh how fun would it be to spin that story to the rabid media? Nothing spelled drama like a hero being related to a villain.

As great as his lineup was, something was off. Not for the first time, Tomura wished he could recruit his favorite Player 2, but he knew that wasn’t happening. Izuku was brilliant and scrappy, but he didn’t have the stomach for what the League was destined to do. None of the heroes did, or maybe the world wouldn’t need people like Sensei to set it straight.

Tomura nodded at Kurogiri and left the bar via warp gate, stepping out into the kitchen of Sensei’s apartment. Speak of the little devil, Tomura could hear Izuku’s animated rambling from down the hall.

“Must have just gotten back from his internship,” Tomura muttered, checking the fridge. Sure enough, the kid had cooked. Nothing fancy, but Tomura would never turn down a Midoriya’s cooking. While his meal heated in the microwave, Tomura poked his head into Sensei’s room to see what had Izuku on such a long spiel.

Izuku had dragged the zaisu in there again to sit next to Sensei's chair while they watched tv. He gestured wildly as he spoke, “Then this winged Nomu swooped in and snatched me off Ms. Joke’s back. I didn’t even realize what was happening until I felt the pain. Aside from the wings, I’m not sure what quirks it had, though the gas mask it wore probably had something to do with one of them, and it probably still had the base regeneration, because the other Nomus in Hosu had it, and why wouldn’t the villains use that for the third if they could? And…”

Tomura rolled his eyes and retrieved his meal before lurking out of sight in the hall to listen to the rest of Izuku’s story. A Nomu grabbing a person instead of mauling or killing them on the spot made no sense. (Though in this particular instance he could appreciate it.) He’d have to let Daruma know one of his creations had gone rogue. If there was one flaw, there might be more. Tomura didn’t like glitchy game mechanics.

“…I saw the news footage from after I passed out, and honestly? Kinda glad I missed that. Stain had every single pro hero there terrified. Not even Endeavor could bring himself to move until Stain tried to kill him…”

Tomura stopped eating and looked toward the doorway. Terrified? That gave Tomura an idea. He stalked back to the kitchen. Aside from Mustard’s poison, his League’s current lineup had no status effects. They were all good, but having that extra little edge…that’s what was missing. Heroes too terrified to move? He liked the sound of that, and if pros were susceptible, how much more heroes in training? Now the question was who? It would have to be a well-known villain and someone who could incite that instantaneous—and hopefully paralyzing—fear.

He scrolled through the news feed on his phone absently while setting his bowl in the sink. He stopped halfway to turning the water on. There was an article about a serial killer and cannibal on death row slated for execution next week. He skimmed the article and smiled. Oh, now that was just the sort of terror he was aiming for.

Thinking over the skill sets his team had, Tomura realized just how easy a jailbreak would be to arrange too. It might even be a good test run of the new members’ teamwork before the big event. He sent the article to Kurogiri and messaged him, “I think I just found our final party member: Moonfish.”

Chapter Text

Classes were back in session, and Izuku happily listened to his friends and classmates recount the highlights of their internships. It sounded like everyone—except maybe Katsuki—had gotten something out of their time with the pros. As Aizawa walked into the room, Izuku noticed the desk behind him was still empty.

Mineta was a lot of things, but he was never late. “Aizawa-sensei, is Mineta out sick? If so, I can make a copy of my notes today.”

Aizawa met Izuku’s eyes for a moment before shaking his head. “That won’t be necessary, Midoriya. Mineta’s transferred out of the Hero course.”

“What?!” A chorus of questions followed.

A flash of red eyes and raised hair silenced everyone. “Mineta made the best choice for his future. Between the USJ and the Hosu incident, this class knows far too well what to expect after graduation. If anyone else decides they want a less life-threatening career, please speak to Nezu or myself. We can arrange transfer to another course here at UA or assist with the paperwork if you want to go to a different school.”

Aizawa’s tired eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the class. “That being said, your finals are approaching in a few weeks. There will be written and practical portions. You’ll want to pass both if you plan to attend this summer’s training camp.”

Internships, the loss of a classmate, approaching finals, and promise of this mysterious summer camp were the only things anyone could talk about until lunch rolled around. Hitoshi met Izuku and their usual group then. The purple-haired teen looked more exhausted than usual, had two of his fingers taped together, and was covered in bruises in various stages of healing. “Hitoshi! What happened? Are you okay?”

“Who did this to you?” Iida asked, eyeing his friend with obvious concern.

Hitoshi sagged into his seat and grinned. “I interned with Eraserhead.”

They all stared at him for a moment before Izuku said, “Huh. I guess Ms. Joke was right.”

“What was it like?” Uraraka asked.

Hitoshi huffed a short laugh. “Hell, but it was all stuff I need to learn. I’ve got some catching up to do before finals.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m taking the practical exam with class 1-A. Aizawa wants to transfer me to the Hero course next semester.”

Izuku’s eyes lit up. “Hitoshi, that’s amazing! Do you need any help? I can stick around after classes and try to reserve one of the gyms again if you need to get any practice in. Though I can’t do Tuesdays or Fridays. Those are dojo days.”

“I’ll ask Aizawa. He’s been training me after school, but I’m sure we’ll need an extra person for quirk training and sparring at some point.”

Uraraka gave Izuku a confused look. “Wait, Deku, I thought you had doctor appointments on Fridays.”

Izuku rubbed at the inside of his left elbow. “Had my last treatment after getting back from Ms. Joke’s agency. I have to get some bloodwork run in a few weeks, but otherwise, no more hospitals!”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Hitoshi said. “What was Joke like, anyway? Are all underground heroes hard asses?”

Iida gasped, scandalized. “Shinso!”

Izuku laughed. “Maybe? She ran me ragged the first day. Freerunning is fun but hard. Then Hosu happened,” he said with a shrug.

“What did you end up doing after you were discharged? I know Iida didn’t get to go back to his internship,” Uraraka said.

“Agency paperwork and data entry.” Izuku shuddered. “I never want to see another incident report again.”

That got his friends laughing. Iida patted him on the shoulder. “At least you have gained valuable experience. Paperwork is sadly a large part of a hero’s job.”

“Yeah. Wish I’d gotten to go on more patrols, though Ms. Joke did invite me to join her and a few of her students for freerunning and parkour on weekends. Don’t worry; I won’t let her convert me to Ketsubutsu,” he joked.

Talk turned to the others’ internships, and Izuku listened happily while eating, letting his eyes wander over the cafeteria. He caught Pony’s eye briefly and waved. She smiled and waved back, which prompted a few of the other people at her table to notice and wave too. Spotting Monoma among them, Izuku left his table early to say hi.

“Hey Pony, Monoma, Kendo, Tetsutetsu.”

“Hi, Midoriya,” Kendo said. “Have you—”

“Is it true someone from 1-A dropped?” Monoma interrupted, grin a little too large.

“Well, not dropped exactly. I think Mineta transferred to General. He was kinda traumatized after USJ, and the thing with Stain…” Izuku winced and looked away. “Yeah…”

Kendo whacked Monoma on the back of the neck before the manic look in his eye could erupt into another rant about 1-B’s superiority. “Sorry about him. How are you? After Hosu?”

“I’m good. The Nomu actually did most of the damage,” Izuku said pointing at his left shoulder. “I’m supposed to go see Recovery Girl before I’m cleared for practical classes again.”

Pony, who seemed to be following their conversation a lot better than she had at the beginning of the semester, said in English, “You should be more careful. Haven’t you missed almost a 1/4 of the practicals this semester?”

Izuku scratched the back of his head and wrinkled his nose before answering her in English, “Yeah. I need to work on that, don’t’ I?” He swapped back to Japanese before continuing, “Oh, that reminds me, Kendo, could you ask Monoma to text me later?” He handed her a slip of paper with his number on it. “He was interested in sparring, and we’ve only got a few weeks left before classes are out for summer.”

Kendo nodded. “Sure, Midoriya. I’ll let him know.”

The next day All Might led the costumed class to one of the outdoor training grounds for a rescue race. While he divided them into groups Izuku stretched his freshly healed shoulders and eyed the terrain. This arena was based on a sprawling industrial complex: lots of fluid tanks, silos, warehouses, and pipes. He hadn’t worked with this type of environment before, but he supposed Ms. Joke’s lesson would hold true here.

Izuku was up first with Sero, Ojiro, Mina, and Iida. All of them had excellent mobility, and he’d be hard-pressed to keep up. He smiled and sank into a crouch.

“Go!”

They all raced into the arena. Izuku pulled the grapple gun off of his utility belt and fired at the top of a silo. After quickly scaling the structure he took off across the roofs and pipes with his quirk activated. After what happened in Hosu, he intended to work on his quirk endurance every chance he got.

He fell into a rhythm and started to enjoy himself. The startled look on Sero’s face when he swung into view and spotted his classmate was hilarious. Izuku waved at him, taking his eyes off his footing at the exact wrong moment. His foot slipped off the pipe he was running along. Izuku yelped as he fumbled to fire his grapple gun again.

He caught the roof of another silo with the grapple and sighed in relief as he hauled himself back up. Glancing down, he noticed Ojiro looking back up at him from the ground. Izuku shot him a thumbs-up; Ojiro nodded and went his way. Izuku got back to work too, though he was a bit more careful.

He came in fourth in his group, and only because Ojiro had a little trouble climbing the tower All Might had been waiting on. Considering how Izuku’d almost caught up to Sero at one point, he was fairly pleased with his performance. If only he hadn’t slipped.

As they started to head back to the gate, All Might rested a hand on his shoulder and leaned in to say, “Great job, Young Midoriya.” Izuku beamed behind his mouthguard the rest of the way back.

---

After class, Izuku was surprised to find a text from Hitoshi already waiting on his phone. It was rare that his friend got out of class first. “Meet me in Hatsume’s lab.”

Izuku was not concerned for his friend’s safety; he felt like jogging all the way to the Development Studio. He didn’t instinctively reach for the fire extinguisher upon entry either. Thankfully, nothing was on fire or actively exploding. Izuku let himself relax as he took in the sight of Mei measuring Hitoshi’s head from several angles while Hitoshi tried his best not to fidget. Mei may not care about personal space, but Hitoshi did.

Hitoshi shot his friend a pleading look, and Izuku tried not to laugh. “She trying to convince you to wear a helmet too?”

“Nope!” Mei said cheerily as she scribbled some numbers on her tablet. “I’m making him a voice changer/mask.”

“Ooh, cool. What’s the plan for getting around the no-electronics limitation of his quirk?” Izuku asked, looking over her shoulder at a half-formed blueprint.

“I’m thinking something resonance-based, maybe with metal or ceramic plates. It’ll take a lot of trial and error. There isn’t any similar gear circulating on HeroNet,” Mei explained.

“Do you need me for anything else today?” Hitoshi asked, leaning slightly away from the pair.

The pink-haired girl waved dismissively without taking her eyes off her tablet. “Yeah, I’ve got what I need. I’ll have you come back for some testing and fine-tuning after I have a prototype. Your scarf should be done by then anyway.” She did look up then. “That reminds me…” She leaned over to yank a few hairs from Hitoshi’s gravity-defying mop. “Need you DNA if you want it to work with your quirk.”

“Ow. Rude.” Hitoshi put a table between himself and Mei, eyeing her warily as he rubbed his head. “Come on, Izuku. You still want to train with Aizawa and me? Today’s parkour and sparring.”

Izuku smiled and tore his eyes away from Mei’s tablet. “Yes! I could use the practice. Nearly pancaked myself falling off a pipe in class today.”

“That’s unacceptable!” Mei cried, giving Izuku a look like he’d just told her the lab was closing early. “If you get hurt again, who’s going to test my babies?”

Izuku scratched the back of his head. “I’m trying not to get hurt, Mei. Don’t worry. I just got a little distracted.”

Mei had that look as she crossed her arms. She was going to do something to his costume again if he didn’t redirect her. “So, Mei, think of anything good for the drone while I was gone?”

She immediately brightened and turned to dig into the pile of parts at her work station. Izuku and Hitoshi beat a hasty retreat while she was occupied. The pair headed back to the locker room and changed into their gym clothes and headed to the gym Aizawa had reserved. He was there waiting for them with arms crossed.

“Sorry to keep you waiting Aizawa-sensei,” Izuku called. “I had to rescue Hitoshi from Mei.”

At their teacher’s raised eyebrow, Hitoshi gestured toward his hair. “Crazy girl with pink dreads and goggles in Support. She agreed to make the stuff we talked about.”

Aizawa nodded and gestured toward the far end of the gym, which appeared to have met the wrong end of a fight with Cementoss. Concrete structures jutted out in a disordered mess. “Parkour is first. You’re following my lead this run. Next one’s on your own.”

“Yes, sensei,” they both said before following him toward a platform low enough for them to climb onto.

Izuku cast Hitoshi a sideways glance, and Hitoshi returned it with a suspicious squint. “Race you?”

Hitoshi smirked. “You’re on, Green Bean. Loser buys the winner a milkshake?”

“The place between here and the train station?”

Hitoshi nodded.

“Deal.”

Chapter Text

Hisashi raced down the street, checking the time and directions on his phone for the tenth time in the last minute. He couldn’t be late to this. He’d completely missed the last one, and he didn’t think he could forgive himself if he missed again. Just a few more blocks…

And there was a guy holding a cash register under one arm and waving a gun with the other running out of a corner store. Right in front of him. Fuck. Hisashi did not have time for this. The punk hadn’t spotted him yet, and Hisashi took the opportunity to close the distance between them.

He took a deep breath and felt the heat build in his chest and throat. When he was a dozen feet away, he exhaled sharply, angling the resultant gout of red flame just to the right of the crook’s gun hand. He could have made the fire hotter or aimed for a direct hit, but he didn’t really want to maim anyone.

The man dropped his gun and the—definitely not his—cash register with a hiss to cradle his scorched hand. Then Hisashi tackled him. He punched the robber in the face once to stun him, then rolled him onto his stomach for a painful, but hard to escape shoulder lock he'd picked up from Izuku.

Hisashi carefully kept an eye on the man, since he had no idea what the punk’s quirk was, if he had one. Without taking his eyes off him, Hisashi yelled to the bystanders, “Can someone call the police or another hero? I’m running late for something important.”

Five agonizingly slow minutes later, and Kamui Woods arrived on scene. Turned out the robber had a light quirk that was similar to a flashbang’s brightness. Really annoying, but harmless. Kamui took him off Hisashi’s hands and skeptically waited for Hisashi to dig his license out of his wallet.

Kamui blinked at the card. “No hero name?”

“No. I’m not even a hero, but apparently the blasted Commission is doing away with the occupational licenses and gave me this when I came back from overseas and tried to renew mine.” Hisashi let all his frustrations out in a puff of smoke. “At least it came in handy this time, right?”

Kamui nodded. “Alright, Midoriya, cops will be here shortly, and I’ll walk you through the procedure since you’ll have no idea what you’re doing.”

Hisashi nodded and glanced at his phone. “That sounds—shit! I’m going to be late!” He frantically grabbed a business card from his culinary school out of his wallet and dug a pen out of his pocket. He scribbled his number on the back of the card and tossed it to the wood hero. “Call me in like four hours, and I’ll come by the agency, spend the whole day if I have to, but I cannot miss my son’s tournament.” With that, Hisashi ran off.

“Hey, wait!”

Hisashi hoped he wouldn’t be in too much trouble for leaving the scene, but family came first. He raced the last few blocks, making it to the Kiyashi Event Center at 10:05. He scrambled to buy his ticket, grab a program, and find the section his son was currently in. Thank Inko for those gorgeous green locks. He spotted Izuku right before he saw Tomura waving at him from the stands.

He worked his way over to the seat Tomura had saved him and dropped into in gratefully. Tomura shot him a concerned look, and Hisashi chuckled between panted breaths. “I don’t think I’ve run that much since that one MLA fanatic with the glass quirk chased me in college.”

That didn’t seem to make Tomura any less worried. “Do I need to sic Sensei on someone?” Tomura asked quietly.

“No, no. The guy’s arrested now anyway,” Hisashi assured him. “Did I miss anything?” he asked, pointing to the mat where two black belts circled each other.

“Nah, just one match, and it wasn’t Izuku’s.”

Hisashi sighed. “Thank goodness. And how are you doing? Sensei and work keeping you busy?”

Tomura nodded. “Yeah, there’s a lot going on right now. I actually have to leave in a little bit for a meeting with some new hires. I might make it back for the end if Izuku makes it to the finals.”

They chatted for a while longer, watching pair after pair take to the mat. Tomura pulled his phone out to record as Izuku stepped forward for his first match. He was up against a boy with some mutation that gave him striped skin reminiscent of a zebra and oddly shaped irises and pupils. As the two students bowed to each other, Hisashi leaned over to whisper to Tomura, “How much you want to bet Izuku’s already figured out his quirk and will tell us all about it when we leave?”

Tomura chuckled while looking up from his phone. “I’m not betting on a sure thing.” He smirked before offering a counter bet. “If he writes fewer than 20 pages in his notebook tonight, I’ll cook breakfast for everyone tomorrow.”

“As if he’s not already got half of these quirks recorded from last year. If he writes more than 20 pages tonight, I’ll cook up something I haven’t made before.” When Tomura raised an eyebrow at him Hisashi grinned. “I learned more than just American food while in California.”

Bet settled, Hisashi turned back to the match just in time to see Izuku drop his opponent and pin him. “Whoo! Great job, Izuku!”

Izuku whipped his head around as he helped his opponent to his feet. His eyes found his father, and he smiled and waved.

“That’s my boy!”

Izuku turned beet red and looked away as he shuffled off the mat.

Tomura cackled and tried in vain to keep his phone steady. He stopped the recording when the device beeped. He checked the message he’d gotten before standing up. “That’s my reminder from Kurogiri. If I don’t make it back in time for the finals, think you could record the match for me and Sensei?”

“Sure. Good luck with the new help, Young Shigaraki.”

While waiting for the next set of matches to finish Hisashi checked his messages and emails on his phone. A few of his students had questions about their upcoming final exams, and UA had sent out a waiver for their summer camp in a few weeks. Since he didn’t have his lesson plans on him at the moment, he held off on answering his students and started on the UA paperwork.

“I can see where Young Midoriya gets his good habits from. I only sent that email out two hours ago.”

Hisashi startled and jerked around to see who spoke, inhaling deeply to use his quirk if needed. Damn, he forgot how jumpy he always got after a fight.

“My apologies, Midoriya. Oh, down here.”

Hisashi looked down to see a white, furry creature in formal wear and sneakers. He blinked before letting out a slow breath with a thin wisp of smoke. This must be the Principal Nezu Izuku had told him about.

“I can see where he gets his skittishness from too,” a second person said. Behind the creature of ambiguous species stood a relatively normal-looking, if tired, man. The eye bags and scarf gave him away as Izuku’s homeroom teacher.

“Comes from growing up quirkless. Bullies,” Hisashi commented before remembering his manners. He stood quickly and bowed. “It’s an honor to meet you, Principal Nezu, Eraserhead. Izuku speaks highly of you both. Thank you for taking good care of him.”

Nezu gave a shallow bow in return and smiled. “Certainly, Midoriya. He’s been a pleasure to teach. He has a sharp mind and a big heart.”

“Yes, he got those from his mother.”

Eraserhead nodded and glanced over at the mat where a boy with a tail was fighting a girl with neon blue hair that seemed to float around her head. “Call me Aizawa. I’m not on duty right now.” He turned his gaze back to Hisashi before pointing at the seats next to him. “Anyone sitting here?”

“Oh, no. Go right ahead.” The two settled in, and Hisashi fought down the urge to fidget. “So…you both came to see Izuku?”

“And his classmate, Ojiro,” Nezu said, gesturing toward the boy with the tail. “They’ve both been performing very well in their hand-to-hand spars.”

Aizawa hummed. “They’re both competent at close range. Excellent examples of the importance of knowing how to fight without a quirk. These competitions don’t allow quirk use, correct?”

Hisashi nodded. “One of the usual judges has a quirk that detects quirk use. No one gets by her. There are the optional exhibition rounds after the finals where quirks are allowed…within reason. They still have to use aikido, and they don’t tolerate unsportsmanlike conduct. Last year’s was pretty fun to watch from what Young Shigaraki told me.” He handed his program to Aizawa.

“Interesting,” Aizawa murmured, flipping through the pamphlet. He glanced up and frowned when the groups by the mat moved away to allow a different set to compete. “Did we miss your son’s first match?”

“Yes, but Shigaraki recorded it before he had to leave. I’ll ask if he can send it to me later.” Hisashi and Aizawa exchanged phone numbers as Nezu got up to investigate the food stand. Once the mouse/bear(?) was out of earshot Hisashi whispered, “I didn’t get it at first, but I think I see now why you’re Izuku’s favorite teacher.”

Aizawa stared at him. “I’m his favorite? Not All Might?”

Hisashi shrugged. “Kid used to love All Might, up until right after we moved back to Japan. Not sure what cha—” Hisashi cut off as he blinked. “Actually, it was right after the sludge villain attack that he stopped buying the comics. But All Might’s the one who rescued him…”

Aizawa shared a frown with him and scrutinized Izuku where he sat talking animatedly with the blue-haired girl. “The idiot probably put his foot in his mouth.”

“Never meet your idols, huh?”

The rest of the tournament passed with small talk, junk food, and small bets on matches. Hisashi quickly learned not to bet against the two heroes, especially the rodent. Once that was made abundantly clear, Nezu suggested they bet on finishing moves rather than match winners. That evened things out somewhat.

Then it came down to Ojiro and Izuku in the finals, a repeat of last year. This ended up being the longest match yet as the two danced around each other and exchanged blows.

“Your son’s improved,” Aizawa observed. “At the start of the year he could barely hold his own against Ojiro for five minutes.”

Just as he said that, Ojiro got ahold of Izuku’s right wrist—which Hisashi suspected to be a lingering weak point—and took him to ground. After a brief struggle Izuku tapped out.

“I’ll have to work with him on that arm,” Aizawa said to himself. Nezu and Hisashi agreed.

Medals were handed out, photos were taken, and the quirk aikido exhibition followed. When Izuku finished his segment, he jogged over to join his dad and teachers.

“Not bad, problem child.”

“Excellent showing, Young Midoriya.”

“I’m so proud of you, Izuku,” Hisashi said while crushing his son in a hug.

“Daaaad!” Izuku blushed and struggled to escape.

Hisashi waited until Aizawa and Nezu moved away to talk to Ojiro to release Izuku, grinning at his son’s embarrassment.

---

Tomura stepped through the warp gate and spared a glance for the bound and gagged man lying unconscious before Sensei’s chair. “How’s our guest doing?”

“He’s proven quite useful and is taking a well-deserved nap before he goes to see the Doctor.” Sensei smiled and gave a dark chuckle. His Slowness quirk will go quite nicely with one of our current projects.”

Tomura shook his head and crouched beside the chair to take a closer look at the stripped and bloodied man. Thankfully, Compress had rescued the guard’s uniform before Toga had her fun with him.

Sensei rested a hand on Tomura's head. A familiar itch crawled across his scalp as Sensei used his coloring quirk. “Ready?”

Tomura nodded and turned toward Sensei. “We’ll get our last party member, or you’ll get a fun new quirk to play with. It’s a win either way.”

Sensei hummed. “I look forward to meeting him. Don’t take too long. You’ll want time to clean up before dinner with the Midoriyas.”

“No blood or ash at the dinner table. I know.” Tomura waited for Sensei to remove his hand before standing to leave. He scratched at his head as he walked to the living room where a re-colored Kurogiri awaited him. Without a word, the mist man opened a warp gate for them.

Back at the bar, Tomura headed for his room to change into their stolen guard uniform. The guard had been a bit shorter than him, shoulders a little broader, but no one was going to look too closely at him when there was an obvious villain attack to deal with.

He adjusted the collar of his borrowed shirt and grimaced, wishing Fuchū Prison sprung for better quality uniforms. How did people wear these every day without getting a rash or going insane? Maybe they’d done that guard a favor taking him out.

A few minutes later he and Kurogiri stood on a rooftop alongside the rest of the League minus Muscular, Toga, and Compress. “Everyone in position?”

Dabi scoffed. “Yeah, boss. Though Muscular almost jumped the gun when a perimeter sweep got close to him.” He offered the binoculars he held to Tomura.

Tomura took them and inspected the prison himself. They were a few streets over on one of the taller buildings in Fuchū, providing them with a decent view of the chaos they were about to cause. A quick scan of the visible parts of the prison revealed nothing amiss. He handed the binoculars off to Spinner and checked his phone. Nothing amiss yet, but there was going to be in three, two, one…

A loud boom shook the area. Tomura laughed as he felt the faint tremor where they stood. “It’s showtime! Be ready to move if Muscular gets in trouble.”

Dabi waved a hand dismissively. “We know the plan.”

Gunshots and a few more booms echoed from the prison as minutes ticked by. At five minutes, Kurogiri opened a warp gate for Tomura. Tomura replaced his manic smile with a smirk and stepped through, finding himself just outside the prison’s fence on the far side of the compound from Muscular’s distraction. A quick glance confirmed he was alone. Head down for the security cameras, Tomura traced a hand down the fence, disintegrating a thin line of it, just enough to let him peel it back and slip through.

Since almost dusting Izuku, Tomura may have spent a substantial amount of time figuring out how to limit his quirk on the off chance something like that happened again. Because honestly? Knowing Izuku, it was only a matter of time before it happened again.

That wasn’t the only benefit, of course. If he could limit the damage of Decay, it made for a much more effective torture method. If he needed information out of someone badly enough to resort to torture, he didn’t want them dying before they talked. And where was the fun in someone dying the first time he used his quirk anyway?

Tomura eyed the building for a moment without lifting his head. It looked so easy to collapse. Did society honestly trust such flimsy defenses to contain the people that wanted to tear it down? He strode purposefully toward the closest exterior door. Once there he grabbed the doorknob and smiled as he watched it and the lock mechanism disintegrate.

A moment later the door jolted open and Toga, disguised as the guard they’d kidnapped, stepped out. She shot him a terrifying grin and held up two marbles. “Got Mooney!”

“Good. Start for the fence. I’ll be right there…” Tomura looked up at the building once more.

Toga made no move to leave, instead smirking at him. “Ooh! I know that look! Who’s getting it?”

Tomura sneered. “Society. Did you see where the cell blocks were on your way in?”

Toga smiled wide, which was honestly disturbing on the face she was currently borrowing. “They’re in the center of the building, but the cafeteria is along the wall around the corner.” She pointed to their left. “And it was lunchtime when the alarm triggered.”

Tomura let a matching smile spread across his face as he stalked to the corner she’d indicated. A quick check revealed at least 15 prison guards attempting to hold off Muscular who was ripping up pieces of the parking lot and drive to throw at the men, unphased by the bullets pelting his exposed muscles. He looked like he was having the time of his life. It was just plain rude not to invite the inmates to the party. This was their home after all.

Tomura slammed both palms flat against the side of the building and pushed his quirk outward as hard and as fast as he could while trying to restrict it to the building itself and not the ground or interior. The results were instantaneous and beautiful. The wall crumbled in a wave rapidly traveling half the length of the wall. As cheers and yells sounded from the now opened prison, Tomura dusted his hands off and stuck them in his pockets, carefully curling his fingers to avoid touching the fabric with his fingertips. Dissolving his pants once when he was a kid had been humiliating enough. Having Izuku tease him for a year straight after telling him about it had made Tomura very dedicated to ensuring it never happened again.

Toga squealed with delight beside him and clapped quietly. “Oh, that looks like fun! Can I join in, Handyman?”

“No. We’re out of here. Nomani’s waiting.” Toga pouted but followed him back to the cut fence. They ducked through and ran for the closest alley. Tucked behind a dumpster was their exit portal. Tomura stepped through, already undoing the top button of his borrowed shirt.

Shortly after, the League was all accounted for and back at the bar. One of the marbles Toga held flashed and turned back into Mr. Compress himself. The man adjusted his hat and looked around. “It was a success then?”

“More than a success,” Tomura proclaimed, pointing to the television. A news team was already covering the mass breakout. Funnily enough, they’d said nothing about Moonfish. Either the warden hadn’t noticed yet, or he was trying to keep the public from panicking. Tomura couldn’t wait for that to come back to bite his government paid ass.

“Bring Moonfish. It’s time for a talk. Kurogiri? Keep an eye on him.”

Kurogiri set aside the glass he loved to polish and followed Tomura, Toga, and Compress down a hallway leading to a series of rooms behind the bar’s main room. Most had originally been small apartments leftover from the bar’s former days when services besides alcohol had been offered. The upper floors retained their apartments, but those on the first floor had been repurposed for storage of dry goods…or bothersome people.

They stopped outside of a room with a metal door Tomura pulled out a key and unlocked the door before pushing it open to reveal an equally metal interior. The only things not metal were the cot and toilet paper. Even the sink and toilet were metal. Toga skipped over and tossed the marble inside. When it clicked against the back wall, Mr. Compress released his quirk. A man in a straightjacket and thick metal muzzle whirled to face them. Crazed eyes jumped between each of them as muffled muttering struggled to get past the muzzle.

The metal door clanged shut behind Tomura, leaving only him, Kurogiri, and Moonfish in the room. “Moonfish, your reputation precedes you. Toga told you our offer?”

Moonfish hesitantly nodded, still looking between him and Kurogiri.

Tomura couldn’t make out anything he said behind the mask. He frowned. He didn’t have time for this. Tomura reached forward and grabbed Moonfish by the muzzle, keeping one finger off the cold metal as he forced the man to meet his eyes. “Listen closely, Moonfish,” he hissed. He now had the man’s undivided attention. “I know who you are, what you want. I can give you that, along with your freedom, but you have to earn it. I have a mission for you. Complete that, become a part of the team, and we’ll keep you out of jail while you have your fill on society. Interested?”

Something that sounded like a “yes” reached his ears.

Tomura grinned. “And just to be clear…my quirk is Decay. Try to kill me or one of mine? This is what will happen to you.” He let his last finger drop to make contact with the muzzle. The metal disintegrated in a cloud of rust-red flakes, leaving Moonfish temporarily coughing.

The fit passed, and in a flash blades of sharpened enamel lashed out toward him. Kurogiri intercepted most of them with a warp gate. Tomura dodged the remainder. He grabbed the offending teeth and laughed at the felon’s pain when several inches of each tooth he touched disintegrated.

“Now, now, Moonfish. I thought we had an agreement.”

“Hungry…” Moonfish whined, retracting the remains of his teeth to the safety of his mouth. “Flesh. Need flesh,” he insisted. “Mission?”

“Yes, I have a mission for you. In the meantime, I’m sure we can arrange to get you some food you’ll enjoy. Sit tight.” With that, he turned his back to the serial killer and stepped from the room. Moonfish wisely resisted attacking again. Kurogiri warped out, not trusting the convict’s temper or tastes.

Toga was waiting for him in the hall alongside Dabi. The firestarter eyed him up and down as if checking for stab wounds. “So…is he onboard?”

Tomura smirked. “Told you he’d be perfect. Oh, and Toga?”

The girl perked up. “Yes?”

“Did you still want to have some fun?”

“Ooooh! Anyone in particular, boss man?” she asked, knife suddenly in hand.

“Your pick this time, as long as you bring them back here when you’re done with them.” Tomura glanced at the closed metal door. Dabi followed his eyes and stiffened. “It wouldn’t do to let our newest teammate go hungry, now would it?”

Chapter Text

Hitoshi turned one of the dials on his voice changer, trying to get a match for Monoma. It worked perfectly, but it took some getting used to. He was infinitely grateful to Hatsume for adding presets. He could set five at the moment, and the Support student was already working on upping that to ten.

He had Izuku and Aizawa down to a t, and Izuku was chilling under Brainwashing while Monoma and him talked. Once Aizawa gave him confirmation that the voice was a match he put Monoma under as well. Hitoshi had gotten plenty of experience maintaining control over one person, but Aizawa wanted to push his quirk. Hitoshi dreaded what the summer camp would be like after the strain of controlling two people at once.

With both volunteers brainwashed, Aizawa tested Hitoshi’s concentration with sparring. He’d gotten better at multitasking like this at least. He didn’t lose his grip on Izuku now unless he took a particularly painful blow. Less familiar minds were a little harder to hold onto, and Monoma slipped his hold multiple times when Aizawa knocked Hitoshi’s feet from under him. Or maybe Monoma was just more contrary by nature. Could have been either. Sadly, the brainwashees still snapped out of it if they were hit at all. No progress there.

As Aizawa started showing him the very beginnings of how to use his signature capture weapon, Hitoshi blinked and looked back over at friend and not-quite-friend where they sat on the floor. Something felt off. Too easy. Izuku never really tried to fight back during Hitoshi’s quirk training—unless there was a spider—but there was always a slight strain from his friend trying to think a mile a minute through Brainwashing’s hold. And that strain wasn't there now. “Aizawa? I think something’s up with Izuku.”

“Drop your quirk,” Aizawa ordered, jogging toward the green-haired student.

Hitoshi obeyed, freeing both Izuku and Monoma. Monoma blinked and looked around, confused. “Time up already? Surely that wasn’t 30 minutes.”

Izuku slumped over onto his side before jolting. “Huh, what?” Then he yawned.

Hitoshi sagged in relief. “Did you seriously fall asleep while brainwashed?”

“Maybe? I didn’t mean to. I didn’t get much sleep last night between studying for Maijima’s electrical engineering final and finishing the essay for Yamada’s third year English class.”

Aizawa crouched in front of Izuku and had him follow his finger with his eyes. After a few other mental checks, Aizawa sent Izuku off to see Recovery Girl just to be safe. “Well, looks like you can maintain control of people if they fall asleep while brainwashed. Interesting, but I’m not sure how useful it’ll prove in the field.”

“I’m just glad Izuku’s okay. I thought for a moment I broke him somehow.”

Aizawa rolled his eyes. “Midoriya’s a resilient one. While he’s away let’s work on both of your sparring.”

Monoma groaned, and Hitoshi grinned. He may not be able to take down Izuku four times out of five, but Monoma he was almost on an even level with. And he fought totally different from Izuku. Variety was important and the spice of life and all that. Plus Ultra.

---

Written finals came and went in a whirlwind of coffee, sleepless nights, and almost anxiety attacks. Hitoshi slept a solid 12 hours after getting home from his last one. The next day was 1-A’s practical. He showed up well-rested if more than a little anxious. None of it showed on his face, but the tension in his posture was enough to clue Izuku in. The Green Bean elbowed him gently before leaning on him while Aizawa…then Nezu explained the test. They were fighting the teachers. Fuck.

Students were paired off, and Hitoshi immediately felt better and worse. He was with Sero for the test. He had no idea how Sero fought and had never talked to him. They were going to fight Midnight. On the other hand, he could have been Izuku. The luckless boy was paired with Bakugo against freaking All Might. How much did the universe (and Nezu) hate Izuku to pair him with his old bully against his old idol? That was just wrong.

He comforted Izuku for a few minutes before going to talk strategy with Sero. Midnight was no pushover, and she’d know what to expect from their quirks. All she had to do was not talk and get close enough to put them to sleep with her quirk…That gave Hitoshi an idea. It was crazy and probably inspired by too much time spent around Hatsume and Izuku, but it just might be crazy enough to work.

Hitoshi and Sero walked through the mountainous arena, plan already set and quirks at the ready. As they walked, Sero laid out several triplines of tape between rocks while Hitoshi kept watch. The biggest danger was Midnight sneaking up on them. Her quirk could knock them out before they even knew she was there if she got close enough. The closer they got to the exit, the tenser they both grew. They could plainly see the gate now and seen no sign of their teacher.

“Put a tape up over there too,” Hitoshi said softly, pointing to two rocks ahead of them.

“On it.” Sero moved to do just that, when Hitoshi noticed an odd shimmer to the air spreading rapidly toward them.

“Sero!” Hitoshi shouted, swinging his capture weapon out to snag his teammate and pull him back to safety. He was awful at finer manipulation with the weapon, but he could at least loop it around someone and pull.

“Whoa! Thanks, dude. I couldn’t even see that through the tinting on my visor,” Sero said, eyeing Midnight as she sauntered into view.

Midnight smirked and rested one hand on her hip and the other wrapped around the handle of her whip. “You boys looking for me?”

“Ready, Sero?” Hitoshi whispered.

Sero nodded. “I really hope this works.”

Hitoshi activated Brainwashing and tapped one of the presets on his mask as he backed away. “Sero, follow the plan.” The plates on his voice changer shifted and grated against each other as they settled into the programmed arrangement. Then he cleared his throat and threw his imitation of Aizawa’s voice. “Nemuri, quit playing with your food.”

Midnight started and opened her mouth to say something before she caught herself. She narrowed her eyes at Hitoshi and stalked closer.

Well, it was worth a shot. “Sero, now!”

Sero leaped forward, tape flying. Midnight ducked and rolled under the tape before lashing out with her whip, narrowly missing Sero. Unfortunately, her quirk didn’t require precise aim. Sero stumbled before dropping to his hands and knees, then lying on the ground. He was asleep.

Hitoshi bolted back the way he’d come.

He heard Midnight laugh behind him. “Oh, such a tease! I do love a chase!” Okay, she was more terrifying than he’d expected. Thank goodness she was a hero.

Hitoshi raced down the trail, carefully leaping over the tapes they’d laid out. The chances of one tripping her up were slim to none, but they’d slow her down at least. Other tapes dangled from higher rocks on the mountain that looked unstable. He yanked on these as he passed, causing a few small rock slides in his wake. Finally, he reached the section of trail he’d been aiming for. It was far from the escape gate, and tape was strewn everywhere in a tangled web. He picked up a section of tape connected to two rocks to make an improvised bola and turned back to watch for Midnight. She didn’t keep him waiting for long.

“Is this what you two were doing for so long? I didn’t think you were into bondage. Naughty, naughty.”

Hitoshi blushed crimson. Okay, not what he was going for. At all. He was pretty sure he could hear Izuku dying laughing all the way at the observation room. He didn’t bother trying to speak past his embarrassment, opting to throw his bola instead.

She dodged it easily and made for him. Hitoshi held his breath and picked up another rock and tape bola. He’d known it would be a desperate fight if it came down to this. Midnight was far too competent at what she did. That’s why this wasn’t the real plan.

The buzzer sounded. “Team Sero and Shinso have passed the exam!” The robotic voice announced.

Midnight stopped a few feet from him and looked up in shock. “What?! How? Sero shouldn’t be awake for an hour.”

Hitoshi smirked and let his Brainwashing go before he had to finally breathe. “I call that one Sleepwalking,” he said before collapsing under the influence of Midnight’s quirk. If only he could fall asleep this easily every night.

---

Katsuki narrowed his eyes at the screen. Midnight threw a limp Shinso over her shoulder like he weighed nothing and headed for the escape gate where Sero was also asleep.

“Wait, since when can Shinso control someone while they’re sleeping?” Round Face asked behind him.

Deku laughed nervously and shifted his helmet from one arm to the other. “Erm, that discovery was my fault. If he has someone brainwashed and they fall asleep while under his control it doesn’t break the brainwashing. Didn’t expect him to use it to win a fight though. I wonder what other applications…” And the nerd was off on a mumble storm.

Katsuki rolled his eyes. Of course, Deku would be dumb enough to fall asleep while being mind-controlled. What else should Katsuki expect?

Round Face asked, “So, he had Sero play dead when Midnight gassed him then get up and walk out after she’d left?”

“That much is obvious,” Katsuki snarked. “Gotta hand it to the Troll Doll. Totally pulled one over on Teach.”

“The bolas were a nice touch,” Half n Half said. “But why didn’t he use his scarf more?”

Aizawa fielded that one. “It took me six years to invent and master that technique. Shinso has had his capture weapon two weeks.” He turned a warning look Katsuki’s way and nodded toward the door. “Bakugo, Midoriya, get going. Your test is up next.”

Deku whispered something to Recovery Girl where she sat before the observation screen then headed for the door. Katsuki glared after him before following. The nerd seemed to have forgotten Katsuki could lipread. What the fuck did he mean asking Recovery Girl to keep the video feed of their fight on a delay “just in case”?

He kept an eye on Deku as they walked toward their testing arena. His costume had been tweaked again. Seriously, did he keep anything the same for more than two weeks? Now he had a helmet instead of a hood and mouthguard, and there were weird lines and spikes on his glove...bracer...whatever they were. Even his boots looked a little different. Were those slits on the front? Didn't matter. They were just a bunch of tricks to make up for his lack of strength. He was quick sure, but strong? Nah.

Katsuki couldn’t see how Deku was supposed to contribute to this fight, except for maybe tasing the hero. And Katsuki suspected it would take a much higher charge than a standard taser to hurt the Number One. Izuku wouldn’t be able to leave a scratch on All Might, and fat chance trying to flip or pin him. All Might was twice the nerd’s height and three times his weight. It looked like the majority of this fight would fall to Katsuki, and he was plenty fine with that.

He only wished Aizawa had given him his bracers back for the test. When asked, Aizawa had told him he’d get the redesigned and “safer” bracers back next semester. Considering he was still on thin ice with the man, he’d swallowed his complaints. Those things weren’t just for super attacks. They stabilized his arms against the recoil of his quirk. They allowed him to use his biggest blasts without risking injury. He was sure Teach knew that, but whatever. He’d deal with the handicap. He could still beat All Might.

The hand villain at the USJ had been bat shit crazy, but he’d been right about one thing. All Might wasn’t infallible. He could be injured. He could be beaten. After that day, Katsuki had paid closer attention. All Might wasn’t making public appearances as often as he used to, barely any at all since the USJ attack. No one ever saw him outside of class, and the man bolted the second the bell rang. Then there was the cough that he tried to hide.

It wasn’t right, but it was undeniable. All Might was getting weaker.

Which meant Bakugo could win here, even if it left a sour taste in his mouth. He rolled his shoulders as he stopped next to Deku. They were at the door to their test arena. He glanced sideways at the nerd to see wide eyes looking back at him through the visor of his helmet. Katsuki narrowed his eyes. What the fuck was Deku afraid of? Katsuki knew for a fact Deku had noticed All Might’s weakness too. He’d caught the nerd’s concerned looks when he thought no one was paying attention. How he’d found out when he wasn’t even there for the USJ attack was a mystery though.

“What?”

Deku darted his eyes away. “Just thinking. We should try to avoid All Might. Our best bet here is to make it to the escape gate without having to engage him. We—”

“Fuck no! We’re taking him down.” As if they could outrun the Symbol of Peace. If they didn’t want to get Texas Smashed in the back they’d have to face him head on.

Deku balked and looked at Katsuki as if he was the crazy one. “What?! No! We can’t beat him, Katsuki. He’s way too strong. You know what he can do.”

“Yeah.” Leaning a little closer, Katsuki quietly snarled, “And it’s a lot less than he used to.” Returning to a normal volume he continued, “I can take him.”

The color drained from Deku’s face as he froze. “You know.”

Katsuki resisted the urge to laugh. The nerd wasn’t as smart or as clever as he thought. Katsuki’s expression froze as something occurred to him. Why ask Recovery Girl to delay the feed unless Deku was worried their classmates might see something they weren’t supposed to? Like All Might being pathetic? Deku had always idolized All Might. The fact Deku asked Recovery Girl what he did meant he thought they stood a chance of winning. If Deku was so worried about needing to protect All Might’s dignity, why the fuck was he chickening out now? It made no sense, but Deku rarely did.

Katsuki growled and turned to face the door as it opened. The robotic announcer signaled the beginning of their test. “Yeah, I know, shitty Deku. Just stay out of my way. I’ll deal with him myself.” He stormed into the fake city without looking back.

“Kacchan, wait!”

Katsuki did not flinch at the old nickname. He just hunched his shoulders and walked faster.

Deku couldn’t take a hint. “This really isn’t a good idea. We should at least try to avoid a direct confrontation. He’s likely waiting for us on the main road. We should take a different route.” The damn nerd was walking next to Katsuki now.

“I’m not running away from this fight. I’m not taking the coward’s way out.”

Deku hesitated for a moment before he kept talking. “You know what he can do, Kacch—Katsuki. Even with the handicap weights and…” Deku shook his head, not saying what they were both thinking. Deku was probably worried about someone overhearing. Figured. “It’s impossible for you to win in a fight against him!”

That was the last straw. Katsuki swung his right arm at Deku. The nerd used his quirk to dodge out of reach and shifted into a ready stance before Katsuki could even touch him. “I don’t want to hear another word. Just because you’ve gotten stronger doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do.”

Deku dared to give him a pained glare. “All I’m trying to do is get us to pass the final. This is for both of us!”

Yeah right. Deku knew they could win and was too afraid to try. Way to be a team player. Katsuki was not interested in having someone so quick to fold fighting by his side. Deku could run off and try to escape on his own. They’d see how far he got. And Katsuki had thought Deku wasn’t spineless anymore. “I don’t need you or your dumb quirk. I can do this all by myself!”

Deku looked like he was about to yell back or maybe take a swing of his own—ha, as if. Then he drew himself up and spat one word. “Fine.”

Chapter Text

Izuku for the first time in years tried to hold back angry tears. He sprinted down an alley away from the main road and Katsuki. Damn him and his stubborn pride. Izuku was not letting his final grade get dragged down by his ex-friend’s ego. Why couldn’t he just listen?

A roaring shockwave of air knocked Izuku from his thoughts and his feet. He rolled into a crouch and looked back to where the main road…used to be. Then in the quiet, a set of footsteps echoed. Izuku never realized how dangerous All Might could be. Was this what villains felt when they faced him? This terror he hadn’t felt since Hosu and the Hero Killer?

Izuku tamped down on the urge to go back to check on Katsuki. He wouldn’t appreciate it, and he’d resent it. Izuku’d likely get an explosion to the face for his trouble. So, he decided to make better use of his limited time and hightailed it.

Something bitter and cold settled in Izuku’s chest the further away from the main road he got. He gave up on being friends with Katsuki a long time ago. Why did it still hurt so much? Izuku angrily shook his head and blinked back persistent tears.

He glanced at the buildings around him, focusing on the task at hand. All Might would finish with Katsuki soon enough and come hunting for him. But All Might was a daylight hero. Ms. Joke and Sleeper had repeatedly critiqued the weaknesses daylight heroes were prone to while Izuku was stuck doing desk work. A favorite punchline of Ms. Joke’s was how daylight heroes tended not to look up.

He drew and fired his grapple gun in a practiced movement, lurching into the air. He scrambled onto the roof of a building two streets off of the main road and crouched low for a moment to listen. He could still hear Katsuki’s explosions. Whenever he couldn’t he’d have to start worrying.

As he jumped between rooftops, that cold something in his chest burned even worse. Katsuki and Izuku had been friends once. Running through the woods off to find some adventure or fight imaginary villains as the best hero duo. And now Katsuki was picking a fight he couldn’t win, and Izuku was abandoning his teammate. Did it count as abandoning when Katsuki had so vehemently refused to consider them a team in the first place?

Izuku could just imagine Hitoshi, Tomura, or Sensei telling him Katsuki deserved the beat down he was getting. Izuku owed him nothing. He remembered Dad sitting next to his hospital bed telling Izuku that Katsuki didn’t deserve him. But Izuku also remembered how before that hospital visit he’d rushed into the sludge villain fight without a second thought, all to save Katsuki from drowning. All Might called that a hero’s instinct. Some part of Izuku felt dirty ignoring that same urge to go back and save Katsuki now. But did being a hero mean letting someone hurt him over and over again? Did his own pain mean nothing?

Izuku didn’t know who was right in this scenario, but he did know one thing. “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved,” Izuku muttered to himself. “And you don’t drown trying to rescue someone else from drowning.” Maybe his conscience wasn’t perfectly happy with the decision, but he could question his life choices later.

And besides, getting to the escape gate would save Katsuki in a sense. When he reached the gate, the test would end, and All Might could stop pulverizing him. Seriously, did Kacchan think All Might was a pushover just because he was injured? And how the heck did he even find out about that? If Katsuki had noticed, who else had? And just how willing was Katsuki to exploit that weakness to win this fight?

That was the real reason Izuku so desperately wanted to avoid a fight, he realized. He knew how to take All Might down. He knew. It would be…not easy, but doable. Maybe. How many blows to that scar could All Might take before he reverted to his skinny form? Then there were all the other questions he didn’t have answers to. If All Might had lost a lung—presumably his left one—had his heart been damaged at all? How dangerous would the electrical charge on Izuku’s weapons be to him? If Izuku fought with all his tools as if All Might were a real villain hellbent on killing him, what damage would he inflict?

He didn’t doubt Katsuki would exploit any weakness he may or may not know about. But the fact the fight hadn’t been called yet made Izuku wonder what Katsuki really knew. If he’d been aiming repeated explosions at the left side of All Might’s chest, there should have been a conclusion by—Izuku froze in sudden panic. He couldn’t hear explosions anymore.

He dove for the rooftop access door and ducked inside. Not a moment too soon either. Peeking through the cracked door, he couldn’t see him, but he heard All Might rush past, heading for the exit. Crap. That was going to be a problem. If Stain had been just as fast as Izuku with Hyper-Processing, he knew for a fact All Might would be faster by several orders of magnitude. One for All boosted strength and speed. In a real fight, Izuku could wait out All Might’s time, but here? He only had five minutes left.

What he needed was a distraction. He took quick stock of his gear and weighed how much Mei would scream at him against how likely each idea that sprang to mind was to work. And while he thought and plotted, he moved, drawing ever closer to the end of the high rises and the cursed open ground between him and the escape gate. Izuku frowned as he evaluated the parking lot and All Might standing right in front of the gate. With that much distance between the last building and the exit, he’d almost certainly be caught.

Deciding on a course of action that wouldn’t rob him of a tool he might still need (and incur Mei’s wrath in the process), Izuku backed away from the edge far enough to safely stand without being seen. Izuku’s heart stopped for a moment when All Might’s voice boomed, “You can’t hide forever, Young Midoriya. Were you really going to leave your teammate behind and run away?”

Izuku swallowed and ignored the sick feeling those words brought on. Where was Katsuki? Did All Might knock him out or—no. No, he was not worrying about Katsuki right now. He had to deal with All Might.

Izuku clenched his fists and shook his wrists like Mei had shown him. The spikes on his bracers sprang forward to latch into the clasps on the back of his gloves and form a set of claws extending past his knuckles. The composite they were made of was non-conductive but strong enough to bite into brick or concrete and hold Izuku’s weight. Tapping his boots together made similar claws sprout from the toes. Mei’s idea of keeping him from falling off buildings and hurting himself was a bit…sharper than he’d been expecting, but effective.

On the opposite side of the building from All Might, he leaned over the edge, securing himself to the roof by his boot claws, and dug the claws on his right hand into the mortar around one of the closest bricks. A few more jabs and he was able to pry the brick loose and scramble back to safety. Hefting the brick, Izuku stood up and decided on a direction away from the main road, but close enough to be believable. And hopefully far enough away to give him a shot at escaping.

He fired up Hyper-Processing and threw the brick as hard and as far as he could. A second later he was crouched by the edge closest to All Might, grapple gun in hand. The brick landed with a clatter and clang as it bounced then hit what sounded like a dumpster. All Might zoomed off to investigate, and Izuku leaped from the roof, aiming the grapple gun at the gate.

The grapple caught, and he set the gun to reel him in as fast as possible. For a heartbeat, he thought he might make it. Then All Might walked out of an alley a few blocks away holding the brick he’d thrown. Time froze as All Might looked up from the brick and locked eyes with him.

On instinct, Izuku let go of his grapple gun. All Might’s fist, then the rest of All Might passed in front of him a split second later, destroying his gift from Ms. Joke. The rush of air from All Might’s passing knocked Izuku sideways to tumble across the pavement in a far from graceful landing. He rolled sideways to avoid a follow-up punch that cracked the concrete under him and left a crater.

Izuku spun away, catching the claws on his left hand on a few loose bits of pavement to hurl them at his teacher’s eyes and buy him time to get to his feet. Back in a ready stance, Izuku shook his hands to retract the claws. They’d get in the way of his jo staff. The curved blades snapped back against his bracers, leaving the sharp edges and points facing outward to discourage any “grabby hands” as Mei called it. He reached for his jo staff and started to aim his left bracer to fire a taser disc but hesitated.

That was all the Number One hero needed to clear his vision and strike. Izuku couldn’t activate Hyper-Processing fast enough. A blow to the chest flung him a dozen feet back, and he rolled where he landed, gasping for air. If not for the helmet Mei insisted he wear to the practical, Izuku was certain he’d have a concussion by now. Even with the helmet he felt rattled.

“First you run, then you hesitate when you finally have to fight? I have to say, hero, I’m not impressed.” All Might’s boots appeared before him.

Izuku flinched at the words, still struggling for air. He coughed and rolled onto his hands and knees. All Might grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and lifted him up to eye level, which for Izuku was several feet off the ground. He kicked and tried in vain to pry himself free. Then his boot caught All Might’s thigh. The hero grunted and dropped him.

Izuku rolled back and away before realizing his teacher had let go because Izuku had just gouged a trio of cuts into him. Izuku’s eyes flew wide, and he looked down. He’d forgotten to retract the toe claws. He swore in English and tapped his boots together. “I am s-so sorry about that. That was not intentional,” he started to apologize.

All Might shot him a look, and Izuku shut up. Right, this was a test, and it wasn’t over yet. Izuku pulled his jo staff and barely extended it before All Might snapped it in half. That was terrifying enough, but he damaged some of the electrical components in doing it. Given his familiarity with Mei’s brand of tech, Izuku wisely tossed his half of the jo staff away from him. It exploded in the air between the two. The tinting on Izuku’s helmet visor saved his vision, and he made a break for it while All Might was still blinded, ignoring the feel of shrapnel pelting his costume. Based on his lack of pain, the reinforced material had done its job.

There wasn’t time to worry about injuries anyway. He’d lost track of how long he had left, but he knew it wasn’t a lot. He pushed his quirk as far as it would go without crippling him and just managed to dance away from All Might’s next jab. The air blast from it still bowled him over. A frustrated part of him wished he’d asked Mei for suggestions on a second long-range weapon. If this fight had made anything clear, it was that he definitely needed a way to not fight up close with certain people.

All Might set a foot on his back before he could get up yet again. “I think that’s enough, Young Midoriya. You—”

“Die!”

Izuku had never been so glad to hear Katsuki’s explosions before in his life. Some part of him relaxed knowing his classmate was still alive and kicking enough to pick a fight. He rolled out from under All Might’s foot when the man staggered back under the force of Katsuki’s hit.

Stumbling to his feet—why was his balance so off—Izuku pushed Hyper-Processing into gear again. He should have run for the gate. He shouldn’t have looked back and seen how utterly wrecked Katsuki was. Both gloves shredded, arms bruised and covered in scratches, the ever-present defiance and rage in his eyes, and he was standing between the Number One and Izuku.

Izuku watched their teacher reach for Katsuki, and damn it, his feet did the moving without thinking thing again. He pushed his quirk to the point of getting a stitch in his side, but he was able to grab Katsuki’s arm and spin to throw him out of the way and toward the gate. “Kacchan, run!” he yelled as All Might’s hand grabbed his helmet and lifted him off the ground.

Katsuki blinked in bewilderment.

Izuku twisted, trying to slip out of his helmet as the visor cracked under the pro hero’s grip. “Go!”

He lifted his right leg and reached down to pull Stain’s knife, now his, from his boot. He flipped the blade to his left hand and hit All Might with the pommel as hard as he could right in the center of the hero’s scar.

All Might wheezed and doubled over, dropping Izuku in the process. Without thinking Izuku brought the pommel down on the back of All Might’s head. For a horrifying moment, Izuku watched his former idol drop to his knees, stunned. Then Izuku remembered that they’d been given cuffs to “catch” their teacher with.

He shakily turned toward Katsuki. “Cuffs. Do you have the…”

A horn sounded. “Time is up. Team Bakugo and Midoriya have failed the exam.”

The knife fell from Izuku’s hand as he swayed in place. He’d failed. He’d abandoned Kacchan, injured All Might, and he’d failed.

Chapter Text

“Would you ingrates shut up!” Tomura snapped. Spinner and Mustard looked up from where they’d been fighting over…something. It wasn’t important enough for Tomura to really care. What he couldn’t stand was the constant arguing. It rubbed all of his nerves the wrong way. “We’ve got two weeks until the big mission. You can murder each other after, but I swear the next person who picks a fight in here is losing an arm.”

“But he insulted Stain!” Spinner protested.

“I did not,” Mustard countered. “I said what he did was dumb. Even smart people can be idiots sometimes. He should have run instead of attacking Endeavor. He’d still be free.”

Stain. Why was it always Stain? Most of the League had joined because of that fanatic, not because of anything Tomura had done. And people wouldn’t shut up about him. Tomura growled.

Spinner and Mustard glared daggers at each other but thankfully held their peace. Tomura decided not to trust it to hold. “I’m going out. Don’t call me.”

Twice and Toga waved from their booth as he passed. They were the only other Leaguers in the bar at present. Even Kurogiri had been called away on some urgent business for Sensei.

Tomura wondered what Sensei was up to this time. He’d had that tone when he called, the tone that usually meant the news would report a mysterious disappearance the next day. He knew Sensei had several side projects, things he was doing with the Doctor, a few “business ventures” in America and Hong Kong, but something told Tomura this was different. Call it a well-honed instinct for sniffing out side quests. Tomura was sure he’d hear about it when he needed to, but his unsatisfied curiosity only contributed to his irritation.

Tomura contemplated going to Dagobah to blow off some of that steam or maybe the mall in Kiyashi to see if any of the shops carried the Detnerat cream he used. He needed to pick up more soon. His feet started carrying him toward Kiyashi as he pulled his hood up over his head. No one should recognize him, but his dry, cracked skin and the scars on his neck tended to draw attention. And the more people that stared, the more he had to fight down the urge to give them a few scars of their own.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw a familiar flash of green out of the corner of his eye. A quick look showed he’d stopped next to a cemetery. Halfway across the space stood Izuku in a hoodie and shorts, backpack at his feet, looking down at a headstone. There were fresh flowers before the grave.

Tomura’s face fell. Shit, was that today? He pulled his phone out to look at the date. It was. Today was the sixth anniversary of Midoriya Inko’s death.

Tomura jammed his phone back in his pocket and hopped the low fence to walk to his friend. He stopped a few feet away, in Izuku’s periphery, but didn’t say anything. Izuku didn’t acknowledge him for several minutes, and when he did, Tomura got the feeling something besides today was wrong.

“Hey…” Izuku gave him the most pitiful excuse for a half-smile before dropping his expression back into a tired frown. His eyes were red, but there didn’t seem to be any recent tear tracks. How long had he been out here?

“They’ll find the bastard eventually,” Tomura said quietly, glancing down at the worn headstone.

Izuku shrugged. After standing there for another ten minutes in silence, Izuku sighed and picked up his bag. He turned away from his mother’s grave, making for the cemetery’s entrance.

Tomura fell into step beside him, uncertain whether he should throw an arm around Izuku’s shoulders or not. That was supposed to be comforting, right? He settled for flipping his friend’s hood up to cover his curls when he noticed a few people whispering and pointing. Rabid hero fans. They probably recognized him from the Sports Festival.

“Come on,” Tomura said. “Let’s go get some katsudon to remember her by. Then there’s an arcade I’ve been meaning to show you.”

Izuku nodded and followed Tomura’s lead. Izuku quietly ate half his meal before picking at the rest as he watched the people walking by the café. At least he seemed a bit more in the present now. His expression even brightened when a girl with a really complex mutation quirk passed. Tomura snorted and grinned. Izuku didn’t notice him get up to pay the bill.

“Alright, Izuku,” Tomura said with his arms crossed. “Up. Arcade’s just a few blocks over. I’m going to stomp you in Sewer Hunter, and we’ll talk about what’s had you avoiding Sensei and me for a solid week.”

Izuku flinched and gave Tomura an apologetic grin. “Sorry, it’s been…a rough few days…” The walk to the arcade was silent as before, but it was a more comfortable sort than the walk to the café. The arcade was on one of the more rundown streets, but there were a few patrons playing the racing game and a small crowd gathered around the dance machines.

Tomura and Izuku moved to one of the old school games to play a few rounds of two-man Sewer Hunter. They cleared the first few levels comprised of swarms of cockroaches and rats that they had to shoot down as they approached. As the first boss level—an alligator—started, Tomura glanced over at Izuku. He didn’t seem intent on talking about his own problems any time soon, but Tomura knew his weakness: helping others. He pointedly didn’t smile as he said, “So, something’s been bothering me ever since the Hosu incident. Maybe you can help me figure out what I’m missing.”

“Uh…” Izuku glanced around to see if anyone was close by. His face twisted in discomfort for a moment before he reached a decision. He nodded. “Okay, but I’m not supposed to talk about it. Gag order. You can’t repeat anything.”

Aw, that was almost heartwarming. Goody two shoes Izuku was willing to blatantly break a police order for him. Maybe there was hope for him after all.

Tomura took one hand off the controls long enough to mime zipping his lips. He quickly brought his hand back down to move his character out of the way of a wave attack the alligator launched at him with its tail. “The Hero Killer and Subete seem basically the same. They both destroy what they don’t like, but the Hero Killer got caught. And he’s the one people are fixating on. I don’t get it. What’s so different about them?”

Izuku frowned as he sent a few rapid-fire shots at the alligator as it broke the surface of the murky sewer water. “Well…a couple things. There’s how they operate. Stain was a one-man army, an assassin, and Subete attacked the USJ with a hoard and a monster, then more monsters at Hosu. Stain only failed once; the other times there were survivors, it was because he chose to leave them maimed in some twisted show of mercy. Subete hasn’t accomplished any of his goals as far as I can tell. Though I’d bet there’s more motive than just ‘killing All Might.’ So, maybe he has? But no one knows if that’s the case.” Izuku cursed as he tried to move his character out of the way of a bite, losing a life when he didn’t move fast enough. “Then there’s their ideals, or apparent lack thereof in Subete’s case. It’s weird. I did some research after Hosu, and Stain was inspired by All Might at the beginning. He was a vigilante. Not sure what made him turn villain…”

Tomura chewed that over as he focused on whittling down the alligator’s health. They were on its last health bar now. He barely kept the irritation out of his tone as he voiced his opinion, “All Might’s like Stain in a way. There are plenty of other heroes out there, but he’s the one everyone fawns over. And Stain’s not even the worst villain in Japan, but he’s the one people are inspired by.”

“Well, sort of. They’re both charismatic. What I meant was that him and Stain? They both stand for something. When people believe in them, they’re believing in something bigger. It sticks with them more. That’s why it hurt so much when All…” Izuku trails off and loses his last life when he fails to move his character out of the way of a wave attack.

“When what? What on earth did Mr. Symbol of Peace do?” Tomura asked, looking over at him.

Izuku refused to meet his gaze. “I ran into him before UA, back before we started training at the beach. He…told me to give up on being a hero. To find a more realistic dream.”

“He what?!” Tomura barely caught himself before disintegrating the joystick. His character died a toothy death while he stared at Izuku. Tomura hadn’t thought it was possible to hate All Might more than he did, but he found himself proven wrong. Death might just be too good for Mr. Number One.

Izuku still wasn’t looking at him, and his hands were shaking ever so slightly. “And then I failed my heroics practical. What if he was right?”

“What? How? You’re like the smartest one in your class.”

Izuku gave a mirthless laugh. “Hardly. And…Katsuki and I were supposed to subdue or escape from All Might.”

Tomura moved his hands away from the game controls entirely, not trusting himself. He took a deep breath. “They paired you up with your bully for a team exercise? Against All Might?” His face must have given away just how crazy Tomura thought that was or maybe just how angry he was, because Izuku gave a nervous chuckle and nodded toward the door.

“Y-yeah, I don’t think they’re going to pair us ever again. At l-least I hope not,” he added under his breath. They stepped outside and just…walked. They weren’t in a great part of town, but they could both handle themselves, and despite how out of it Izuku had been today, Tomura still saw him casting vigilant eyes around them as they strolled.

“They shouldn’t have paired you two to begin with. Are they blind? Or do they not care that he tried to murder you in that exercise at the beginning of the year?”

Several emotions flitted across Izuku’s face, though pained and guilty seemed to be recurring ones. Tears started gathering in his green eyes, and Tomura silently vowed to make Bakugo’s death slow and excruciatingly painful. Maybe he could convince the Doctor to bring him back for a repeat…if there was enough of the boy left to revive. Tomura was sure Sensei would want a turn too.

Tomura threw one arm around Izuku’s shoulders and ground his knuckles into the top of the shorter boy’s head through his hood. “Stop blaming yourself. I can hear you reaming yourself from here. If this is anyone’s fault it's your teachers or Bakugo. If they’d paired you with anyone else in your class, you’d have beat the spandex pants off of Small Might.”

Izuku laughed in spite of the tears rolling down his face. “The f-funny thing is I a-almost did.”

“Come again?”

“I had him on his knees.”

Tomura stepped back to stare Izuku in the face with his eyebrows raised. “What?”

Izuku giggled a little hysterically as he wiped his eyes. “I d-didn’t believe it either. Turns out he’s just as susceptible to getting kn-knocked on the head as everyone else.”

Noted. Tomura had so many questions and no idea where to start. “Izuku, has anyone ever told you how scary you are?”

That set his friend off with proper laughter. Tomura smiled and shook his head.

“Uh…”

Izuku stopped laughing abruptly, and Tomura turned around to see freaking Dabi staring at them like he wasn’t sure what he saw was real. Tomura froze for a few seconds. Crap. How was he going to play this? “Hey, Dabi,” he found himself saying. He stepped back to push Izuku forward slightly. “Izuku, Dabi. Dabi, Izuku. Friend, coworker.”

Izuku’s trepidation evaporated once he knew that Tomura knew the guy. “Oh! Hi. Nice to meet you.”

“Same,” Dabi said warily. He shot Tomura a questioning look.

Tomura hurriedly shook his head and mouthed “Not League.” Then he propped his elbow on top of Izuku’s head. “Izuku and I have been friends since we were kids.”

Something smug settled on Dabi’s scarred face. “Of course. ‘Friends.’”

Tomura wished he could kill Dabi with his eyes. “Not like that.”

“Our dads know each other. They go way back,” Izuku helpfully added. He seemed to have missed Dabi’s implication.

“Yeah, whatever,” Dabi said. “I’ll see you at…work.” He started to step around the pair.

“Oh! Wait,” Izuku said, yanking his backpack off his shoulders to dig around in it. He pulled a small jar out and handed it to Dabi.

Dabi raised an eyebrow and frowned.

Izuku held his right arm up and pulled the hoodie’s sleeve back to show Dabi his scar. “Quirk burns, am I right? Mine’s as good as it’s getting, but that stuff helps.”

Dabi blinked at Izuku then glanced down at the jar again. “Uh, thanks?”

Tomura hid a laugh behind a cough and started to walk away to force Izuku to move to catch up. “See ya, Dabi,” he called over his shoulder. That was too close.

---

When Tomura finally returned to the bar, Dabi was there waiting for him. The firestarter cut right to the chase, “He doesn’t know, does he?”

“No, and it’s staying that way,” Tomura warned. “Izuku’s too good for a villain, but he’s useful where he is.”

Dabi frowned. “What do you mean?”

“He’s going to UA. Hero course. And he loves to talk about all the quirks he sees. Students, teachers, the pro he did his work study with…”

“He’s an unwitting informant.”

Tomura nodded. “It’s better this way. We really have been friends for years. Not knowing will keep him safe.”

“Is he how you plan to find the camp?”

Tomura nodded. “He usually keeps his phone’s GPS on in case he ever needs to contact Kurogiri. Sensei had it hacked after Izuku ran into Stain. Just in case.”

“Ah, I thought he looked familiar.”

“Sensei’s…invested in Izuku. As long the brainiac has his phone we’ll know right where his class is going.” Tomura narrowed his eyes at Dabi. “It goes without saying that Izuku is off-limits when we strike.”

Dabi raised his hands. “Don’t have to tell me twice. Spinner won’t touch him either, since Stain recognized him as a true hero. I’ll make sure the others stay in line and don’t hurt him too bad if he gets in the way.”

Tomura imagined All Might on his knees before Izuku. “It’s not him I’m worried about.”

Chapter Text

The last few weeks before the training camp flew by in a haze. Maijima asked Izuku if he was interested in helping with the end of term lab inventory and safety checks, and Izuku appreciated the distraction. He appreciated his teacher’s lack of questions about his failed heroics practical even more. He had enough questions about the experience lingering in his own mind. He didn’t know if he could stand adding anyone else’s. Especially after Aizawa and Yagi’s.

It’s funny. He didn’t actually remember leaving the testing area. Recovery Girl would probably say it was shock. Anyway, the two teachers had visited him in the infirmary after Recovery Girl was done treating him. He’d come out of that fight in surprisingly good condition. Yeah, there was a piece of shrapnel sticking out of his chest, but it had barely cut him through his costume’s armor plating. And a mild concussion. Actually, it might have been the concussion messing with his memory.

Unfortunately, he remembered the conversation with his teachers perfectly. Aizawa started off by asking for his version of events before and after the start of the test. Izuku answered mechanically, adding in his reasoning for separating from Katsuki. That cold something in his chest was back whenever he thought about it, but he held his tears in. He wasn’t going to cry over Katsuki anymore.

When he got to his fight with All Might, Aizawa stopped him with a raised hand. “You were about to hit him with a taser disc, but you hesitated, then didn’t try to use that support item the rest of the fight. Why? You might have gotten away.”

Izuku had glanced over at Yagi. Aizawa had to know by now that Izuku knew about All Might’s deflated form; Yagi was in that form for this meeting. It made sense if Aizawa and the other teachers knew about Yagi’s injury too. Instead of answering Aizawa directly, Izuku asked, “That wound damaged one of your lungs badly enough you lost it; was your heart undamaged?”

Both teachers started at the question, and Aizawa shot Yagi an appraising look. Yagi put a boney finger to his chin and stared at the floor. “I don’t recall any heart damage on the list of injuries.”

Izuku gave a small laugh. He wasn’t sure if it was more relief or self-deprecation. “Good to know,” he muttered.

Aizawa gave an exasperated sigh. “Problem child, if you were worried about that you could have asked before the test.”

Izuku shook his head. “Shoji or Jiro could have overheard.”

Aizawa rolled his eyes and moved on to a different topic. “One last question, kid. Why did you save Bakugo at the end?”

That was the real question. Even a few weeks later, Izuku wasn’t sure why he’d done it. He should have run for the exit, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret his decision despite the failing grade. If the exercise was all about teamwork, he supposed he deserved to fail.

Maybe there was a silver lining in Katsuki’s failing too. Seeing how his behavior and refusal to work with others had cost him might convince Katsuki to shape up. However much he’d changed since they were kids, Izuku couldn’t see Katsuki letting his pride overcome his desire for victory. He still stepped between Izuku and All Might at the end of their practical. If only for a moment, he’d been willing to work together. Izuku knew it was a small hope, and he didn’t really trust it to hold up in a gentle breeze. But he needed to believe something good had come out of the mess. So, he’d take it.

Why did Katsuki save him? Why did he save Katsuki? Was All Might’s first assessment of Izuku right or the second? Was Izuku enough? Could he be a hero? He hadn’t really felt like one since the practical.

He shook his head free of the circling thoughts and focused back on his checklist. He and Maijima needed to finish everything in the Development Studio before Mei got back from her trip at the end of the week if they wanted to do it in peace. Apparently, there was some big expo on I-Island Mei had gone to.

Maijima’s explanation was the first Izuku had heard of the event, though it seemed he was the only one who’d missed the memo. Most of his classmates, plus All Might and Togata, had gone to I-Island for it when he checked their group chats. With so many of his friends out of country Izuku took his distractions where he could find them. In his current mental state, Izuku discovered leaving himself too much time to think tended to turn his quirk into a curse, thoughts spiraling into dark places at breakneck speed. So, he threw himself into the Development Studio review, freerunning with Ms. Joke and her class, beach cleaning with and without Tomura, aikido, hero and villain analysis, and the continued training sessions with Aizawa and Shinso. And he did so with all the fake gusto and smiles he could muster.

Aizawa kept a skeptical eye on him but agreed with his devotion to maintaining a training regimen. “Why would you stop training when classes are out? That’s illogical.” The hero did order him to take it easy a few times though. But taking it easy didn’t exhaust Izuku enough to be able to fall asleep the second his head hit his pillow. Izuku largely ignored Aizawa’s order until the pro had Shinso command Izuku to take a nap…and he’d passed out for ten hours. That was interesting to explain away.

The return of his classmates brought news of some sort of villain attack at the expo. Thank goodness everyone made it out okay. He didn’t want any of his friends to miss the camp because of an injury. Sure enough, everyone showed up the day of the camp bright-eyed and raring to go. Except Hitoshi and Aizawa, but they had coffee. So, they were going to be fine. Probably.

His classmates cast curious looks at Hitoshi but wisely let him nurse his caffeine in peace. They knew by now that he was going to be their classmate come fall, and they were curious. After all, no one had gotten to talk to him after his practical thanks to Midnight’s quirk.

They loaded themselves onto the bus and quickly settled into their seats. Hitoshi plopped down next to Izuku and sleepily eyed his friend. “Shouldn’t that be with the luggage?” he asked, pointing at Izuku’s backpack.

Izuku blinked at Hitoshi, then opened his backpack to pull a water bottle and bag of trail mix out. “What good are snacks if I can’t reach them?” Then he pulled out field guides on Japanese fungi and plants. “Plus, I need to brush up on what’s growing this time of year. Most of the edibles won’t be in season, but we might get lucky…”

Hitoshi blinked at Izuku before swiping the bag of trail mix. “Please tell me you aren’t going to pick something in the forest and eat it.”

Izuku scrunched up his nose. “Ew, no. Most of these are bitter if eaten raw. We’ll need to cook them.”

Sato leaned forward in his seat. “We talking mushrooms?”

Thus conversation turned to different types of cuisine, then weird foods from other countries. All the talk of food had people hungry by the time they reached a rest stop. Everyone rushed off, eager to find restrooms and/or snacks.

Izuku was the last out given he had to pack his things. When he reached the bus’s door, he froze, noting that there were no buildings here. In fact, it looked like they’d just pulled off on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. Seeing another car roll to a stop nearby, Izuku slunk back inside the bus and slipped his backpack over his shoulders before heading outside. There was more than just his field guides and food in there, and he had a feeling he might need his other supplies soon. This had “logical ruse” written all over it.

The other car held two members of the Wild, Wild Pussy Cats hero team. Izuku might have fanboyed. A lot. Then Pixie Bob got that gleam in her eye, like when Ms. Joke was about to lead her freerunning group across a particularly challenging stretch of cityscape. Izuku tensed and leaped back just in time to avoid falling with the cliffside and his class. He clung to the side of the bus, left hand hooked inside an open window. The ground was very not safe at the moment.

The Pussy Cats yelled instructions down to the rest of his class, then turned back to Aizawa. Mandalay noticed Izuku first. “Whoops, looks like you missed one, Pixie.”

Aizawa actually grinned. “Problem child, I’m going to ask you to let go of the bus. You get points for your reaction time, but you’re not escaping this exercise.”

Izuku really, really didn’t want to, but an angry Aizawa was scarier than anything the Pussy Cats could throw at him. He hesitantly dropped back onto the ground and cast Aizawa a pleading look. The cold, cruel man was immune to Izuku’s puppy dog eyes.

Pixie Bob gave Izuku a smug grin and motioned him forward with one claw. Izuku sighed and marched to his doom, stopping at the edge of the cliff. Instead of dropping the ground out from under him like she had the rest of the class, Pixie Bob formed a giant dirt monster. Izuku didn’t have time to figure out what species it was supposed to emulate before it grabbed him around the torso with one large hand and jumped off the cliff.

“He’ll catch you up to your class in no time!” Pixie Bob yelled after him.

Izuku found himself wishing he had his helmet as the dirt behemoth barreled through the trees. Branches whipped across his face and arms causing him to yelp and wince. Then there was an impact, and the dirt hand holding him fell apart. Izuku fell the five feet to the ground and sprawled on the leaf litter and dirt for a moment, trying to convince his heart rate to slow down. That was mildly terrifying.

Someone growled nearby. Izuku glanced up to see Katsuki a dozen feet away glaring at where the dirt monster had been. Instead of saying anything to Izuku directly, Katsuki turned a fierce glare to his classmates. “Told you we were missing someone.” Then Katsuki flew off with a pair of explosions to destroy a dirt monster approaching from the left.

Iida—who had freed Izuku by Recipro Bursting the dirt monster into oblivion—offered him a hand up. “Midoriya! Are you alright? I didn’t even see you get captured. Are you injured?”

“Really feeling the love, Iida,” Izuku joked as he let himself be pulled to his feet. “I’m okay. I didn’t fall down the cliff when the rest of you did. Pixie Bob had that thing carry me here so I wouldn’t get lost in the woods on my own.” He ignored Iida’s bafflement and set his backpack down.

This was the main reason why he’d insisted on taking his backpack with him on the bus. Yes, the snacks, water, and field guides were important, but he’d also put his camping knife in the bag along with a few other survivalist supplies. He stuck the bowie knife’s sheath in one of his pockets and pulled the blade free.

“You brought a knife to school?!” Iida sputtered beside him.

Izuku shrugged. “I’ve always brought a knife with me when camping with my dad.”

Hitoshi nodded appreciatively, smiling at Iida’s continuing fit. “I don’t suppose you have another in there, do you?”

Izuku shook his head. “Sorry, but stick close. I’ll guard you, and when I get tired, we’ll swap roles.”

Hitoshi grinned. “Deal.”

They swapped out half a dozen times before reaching the base of the stupid mountain. The sun was setting, and everyone was beat. Izuku and Hitoshi sprawled on the ground once they reached the cabin, breathlessly debating if they were more envious of mobility or combat quirks. Their friends ignored the faux argument.

When the promise of dinner granted Izuku the will to move again he climbed to his feet and pulled Hitoshi up with him. Then he spotted the world’s grumpiest little kid and tried to make friends. He nearly got punched in the nuts for his effort while Hitoshi, Sero, and Kaminari laughed at him. It was like looking at a mini-Katsuki. How that much anger and spite fit in such a tiny package Izuku could never understand.

Deciding to give Kota the same respectful berth that he did Katsuki—and possibly rabid dogs—he turned his attention to eating, settling in, and cleaning up. The hot springs nearly made up for the whole trip through the forest. It was nice, just relaxing for once. No one commented on his scars, Hitoshi fell asleep and half drowned only to be rescued and subsequently teased by Kaminari, and Katsuki ignored Izuku’s existence. Izuku almost forgot about his doubts and the lingering cold in his chest.

All that peace and relaxation fell apart when Kaminari started joking about how Mineta would have been going nuts knowing only a fence separated their group from the girls in their own hot spring. Kota materialized on top of the fence to glare down at Kaminari. “Not on my watch,” the kid yelled before muttering something about stupid heroes.

Uraraka yelled from the other side of the fence, “Thanks, Kota! You’re our hero.”

Kota turned to see who was talking and…well, fell backwards off the fence at whatever he saw. Izuku felt secondhand embarrassment for the kid as he darted to catch him. Izuku’s abused muscles spasmed at the sudden movement, but he reached Kota in time. The kid had passed out while falling, and Izuku took him to Mandalay—after grabbing his towel—to make sure he was okay.

That was how he learned part of Kota’s story. His parents had been heroes, and they were murdered while fighting a villain. There was a lot of news coverage. Kota likely saw the whole thing either as it happened or in the days following.

That hit too close to home, and Izuku excused himself to get one of the muscle relaxers Recovery Girl had sent with him. He held the tears in until the lights in the boys’ room were off. He hadn’t had a nightmare about his mom’s death in years, but he had one that night. He never dreamed about the attack itself—or if he did, he never remembered the details on waking—just the blood, broken cars and people, and the silence that followed. He’d been too terrified to move or make a sound, sure the villain would find him if he did.

That same fear of making a sound followed Izuku into wakefulness as he shakily tiptoed around his classmates to reach the bathroom. After washing his face and clutching the sink for a few minutes, he decided that sleep wasn’t going to happen, even with the fatigue brought on by the muscle relaxer. He wandered back over to his bed and unplugged his phone from the charger. He groaned when he saw it was 2:30 a.m.

He debated waking Hitoshi to ask him to brainwash him into sleep, but one glance at his friend had him discarding the idea. Hitoshi had bouts of insomnia. If Izuku woke him up now, Hitoshi likely would be stuck awake in Izuku’s place. This week was going to be hellish enough for his friend; Izuku wasn’t going to make it harder for him.

Izuku started to scroll through one of his hero news apps, but quickly closed it when he started seeing familiar images of blood soaking into cracked asphalt behind his eyelids. He almost texted Tomura, but knew his best friend would recognize something was seriously off the second he did. He didn’t want to talk about this. He needed a distraction, and something not related to villains or fighting. He frantically opened Discord, looking for a server that was active.

His eyes caught on one that Togata had invited him to. The only other members were Hado and Amajiki. The chat had blown up two hours ago with pictures of the Big Three goofing off and having dinner together at a restaurant. Togata was stuck in the middle wearing a paper crown. A brownie with candles stuck in it sat on the table before him.

Izuku felt a wide-eyed smile coming on as he messaged, “No way! I missed my senpai’s birthday?”

Amajiki—whose chances at sleeping were as bad as Hitoshi’s—responded a few seconds later, “Technically, no. Today’s his birthday, but he has plans with his family. So, we did our celebrating early.”

Izuku blinked, checked the date on his phone, then stared at the screen some more. What were the odds they shared a birthday? Izuku shook off most of his confusion and tapped at his phone again. “In that case…Happy birthday, Togata! Hope you have a good time with your folks.” He’d tell them about his birthday another time and if they asked. They were Togata’s friends first.

Amajiki seemed to be the only one still awake, but he was decent enough company. He had a sense for when people wanted to talk about things and, aside from a cursory question about if he was at the training camp, didn’t ask about why Izuku was awake.

Izuku drifted off at some point, only to be woken back up by Iida’s loud announcement that they had ten minutes before Aizawa expected them outside. Izuku groggily changed and ran his fingers through his hair. He texted All Might while waiting for the bathroom to clear out. “Wasn’t sure if you knew, but today is Togata’s birthday.”

Izuku could practically see Yagi’s bloody cough when he got the response, “What?! Thank you for letting me know. I was unaware.”

Izuku smiled a genuine smile in spite of everything and pocketed his phone. There was enough room at the sink now to brush his teeth. If Hitoshi and Iida gave him sideways glances, he ignored them. Aizawa also caught Izuku’s eye as he joined his classmates outside. Something flashed in his teacher’s eyes, and Izuku wondered how bad he looked. Maybe he should have washed his face again.

“Your classes this semester have focused on physical training and skill, but not raw power. This week we’ll be pushing your quirks to their limits to break them and build them back stronger.”

---

Izuku regretted everything. He couldn’t move without some muscle protesting. Things had started off okay. He’d been sent to run a few laps around the mountain with Iida to practice keeping Hyper-Processing active for as long as he could. He lost track of how many times Iida lapped him. It was almost funny. Then he’d sparred with Tiger. That’s what really did him in. Maintaining a constant level of activity wasn’t so bad, but sharp, sudden movements tended to trigger his quirk’s drawbacks if he wasn’t paying absolute attention.

After his third muscle spasm, Izuku was down for the count until another muscle relaxer pill could kick in. Izuku took a long drink from his water bottle and leaned back against a tree. At least he could check his phone while massaging his calf. The device had started vibrating with unread messages an hour ago, and Izuku had a feeling he knew what they were.

Sure enough, there was a message from Kurogiri wishing him a happy 16th birthday, a similar message from Tomura accompanied by pictures showing him at Dagobah beach at sunrise—a completely cleaned Dagobah beach—and a few messages from All Might asking for his opinion on the gift options he’d come up with for Togata. Then there was a message from Dad asking for a vid call when he had a chance.

Izuku tried to fully extend his left leg and gritted his teeth when it seized up. Yeah, he had time. He dialed his dad’s number and waited for the call to connect. Dad picked up on the second ring, and a video feed appeared on screen. Izuku was surprised his dad wasn’t at home. It almost looked like he was in an office. There was a lot of background noise wherever he was.

“Izuku! How’s my birthday boy?” Dad said a little louder than usual to be heard over whatever was going on.

“Half dead, but that’s training for you,” Izuku quipped with equal volume, pasting a smile on his face. “Miss me already?”

There was a laugh in the background. Dad glanced up at whoever it was before looking back at Izuku. “Of course. This is the first time you haven’t been home for your birthday in years.” Dad glanced away from the phone again, then rolled his eyes. “Looks like a few of my new…associates(?) want to say hi too.”

Dad turned the phone around. Izuku froze as he realized where his dad was. That was the inside of a hero agency, and those were Kamui Woods, Mount Lady, and Edgeshot! Why was Edgeshot there? Why was his dad there? What was going on?

“Hi, mini-Midoriya!” Kamui yelled, waving a hand. “Your dad’s told us a lot about you. Hope Eraserhead doesn’t work you too hard on your birthday.”

The other heroes and a few of the office staff also gave their well wishes while Izuku sat there speechless. He numbly waved back. Finally, the screen turned back to show Dad. He shook his head fondly before saying, “Softies, the lot of them.”

“W-wha…”

“Oh, Kamui has been showing me how to fill out an incident report. I took down a crook awhile back—” He cut off to look at someone off-screen. “Well, what was I supposed to do when he was waving a gun around right in front of me? Anyway, Kamui and his girlfriend—” There was a loud protest, presumably from the wooden hero. “Oh please, you two aren’t fooling anyone. They’re showing me the ropes while you’re on your class trip. I think hero work might actually have more paperwork involved than teaching does.”

Izuku nodded, still not quite processing. His dad was working with…heroes? His dad, who didn’t want to be a hero, was willingly working with heroes in a hero agency. Maybe he was still dreaming.

“Oh! And before I forget, I know you haven’t gotten a chance to corner Edgeshot yet. So, I brought your autograph book with me today for everyone to sign.” His dad held up the familiar notebook. A moment later it was plucked from his hand by a few wooden branches and dragged out of view.

Izuku pinched his arm. No, not dreaming. Maybe hallucinating? He wasn’t sleep deprived enough for that, surely. He had no idea what was happening or why, but the smile on his dad’s face as he laughed at something Mount Lady said was enough to make him hope this was real.

Chapter Text

Shota kept a close eye on Midoriya throughout the day. Ragdoll had sensed something was off with him the second she met him, and it wasn’t physical. The dark circles and slight puffiness around his student’s eyes told him that much. The problem child had been pushing himself hard ever since his disaster of a heroics practical, and Shota had no doubt Midoriya was blaming himself for his “team’s” failure.

Shota hadn’t realized how big of a mistake pairing those two was until Midoriya Hisashi called a few days later, furious that they’d tried to force Izuku to work with his former bully. Shota had hoped the boys had grown enough since the start of the year that they could make something work, but he’d misjudged. With the added context Hisashi gave him, he’d misjudged badly.

Watching more closely, he could see the signs. Izuku sometimes flinched or froze when caught off guard by one of Katsuki’s yells or explosions on the opposite end of the field. He tended to move to keep Katsuki and anyone he wasn’t familiar with in his line of sight. He didn’t think the kid even realized he did it.

No, Shota couldn’t undo his mistake, but he could make sure nothing worse happened between the two. And he’d talk to Nezu about arranging therapy for Midoriya when they got back. Between the kid’s ingrained reactions, the past bullying, and the other incidents he’d seen in his file, there was definitely trauma to work through.

Speaking of the problem child, where was he? He was supposed to be sparring with Tiger, but Shota couldn’t see him. He frowned and headed to that end of the field, finally spotting Midoriya sitting against a tree trunk. He was on his phone while massaging one of his legs. Shota sighed. The drawback to the kid’s quirk was a difficult problem to tackle. Like kid, like quirk he supposed. Hopefully, Midoriya could continue to build tolerance to it.

Shota stalked closer when he heard a tinny voice come from the kid’s phone. While he hadn’t expressly forbidden the use of their phones while at camp, he didn’t want any of the students accidentally broadcasting the camp’s location. After the Sports Festival publicized them, it was possible the villains might watch one of their families in attempt to gain information.

Shota stopped when he got close enough to make out Hisashi’s words on the other end of what was likely a video call. “Sorry, kiddo, but I have to go. Try to have a good rest of the week. We’ll get together with the Shigarakis for a proper celebration when you get back.”

“Alright, Dad. Love you.”

“Love you too, Izuku. Happy birthday.”

Shota tried to recall Midoriya’s file. He’d last looked at it when arranging the matchups for the practicals, and he vaguely recalled seeing Midoriya had a birthday coming up. He wondered if that was part of the reason his student seemed so off this morning. Shota slipped away without Midoriya noticing and pulled out his phone.

While he had missed quite a few things in regards to his problem child, he wasn’t oblivious. He knew certain people who would definitely brighten the kid’s day. And he knew the kid wasn’t going to reach out himself.

He sent quick messages to Yagi, Maijima, and Fukukado mentioning the kid had had a rough night before his birthday today. Rejoining Mandalay at the middle of the field he asked, “Do you have supplies for any desserts at the cabin?”

Mandalay gave Shota a frown and shook her head. “No, the only sweets we’ve got on hand are for Sato and Yaoyorozu’s training. Why do you ask?”

“It’s come to my attention that today is Midoriya’s birthday.”

“And you want to do something.” Mandalay’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “When did you start going soft, Eraser?”

Shota grumbled and refused to meet her teasing stare. He narrowed his eyes when he saw Bakugo walking towards them. He met Shota’s eyes briefly before speaking to Mandalay. “Do you have ingredients for katsudon?”

Shota and Mandalay blinked at him. Bakugo sighed and ground out, “It’s the nerd’s favorite food. He’d appreciate that more than a cake.”

“And how did you know what we were talking about?” Shota asked, studying the explosive boy.

“I can lipread.” After a beat of silence, Bakugo bristled. “What? Do you think I’m immune to hearing damage from my own damn quirk?” The boy promptly stormed off, heading back to his designated training area with his shoulders hunched.

Mandalay shared a glance with Shota. “We can do katsudon.”

Shota nodded, still watching Bakugo. It looked like Midoriya wasn’t the only one loath to ask for help. He fired off a text to Shuzenji and saw he’d gotten replies from the others.

Fukukado was as insufferable as ever, and Maijima felt guilty for working with Midoriya for the last week and not knowing. The only response that truly surprised him was Yagi’s. “What?! Two of them on the same day? How did I miss both of them?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Young Midoriya and Togata appear to share a birthday. Midoriya informed me of Togata’s this morning.”

Shota rolled his eyes. Of course, Midoriya would tell All Might about his protégé’s birthday but not his own. Wait…Midoriya had Yagi’s phone number? Shota decided to watch Midoriya more closely. If he was spending enough time around the man to have his number, he might pick up some of the hero’s bad habits.

By the time training ended for the day, the majority of the students were aware of Midoriya’s birthday, not for any lack of discretion on Shota’s part. Fukukado told Tensei who told Tenya, who was horrified to realize he would have missed a friend’s birthday without even knowing. Iida proceeded to tell the rest of 1-A, and someone in 1-B overheard and spread it through their class too. Shota hoped Midoriya wouldn’t implode from the sudden attention.

Thankfully, dinner preparations kept the students from swarming Midoriya all at once. Most everyone did make an excuse to wander by the area where Midoriya stood tending a frying pan to wish him a happy birthday though. Convinced Midoriya was fine, if a bit frazzled, Shota was content to leave the students be.

Then the kid struck up a conversation with Kinoko and Monoma. “Kinoko! I’ve been meaning to ask are the mushroom spores your quirk produces seasonally dependent? Or can you make any mushroom grow any time of year?”

Kinoko seemed a bit surprised by his interest. “I’m not sure. I’ve never tried to focus on one specific species at a time. I’ll have to experiment with that.”

Izuku grinned. “I was also curious if the edible species from your quirk are still edible. Monoma mentioned that they degrade rapidly over a few hours, but what if…”

Shota spoke up from his spot leaning against a tree on the edge of the kitchen area, “You are not trying that here. You can investigate when we’re back at school and have Recovery Girl handy in case one of you poisons yourself.”

All three of the students jumped and looked over at him. Shota suppressed a grin. “O-okay, sensei,” Midoriya said.

The three quickly moved on to talking about various mushrooms Kinoko might practice with. Then Midoriya brought up the topic of poisonous mushrooms. Shota had never paid much attention to the flora growing around him, but hearing the problem child list off three separate species he’d seen today that could seriously harm someone if ingested made him wonder if he should.

Monoma looked as horrified as Shota felt. “I am never eating a mushroom again until Kinoko or you identify it.”

Midoriya laughed. “Oh, come on. How often do you hear of someone committing murder by mushroom?” He shook his head. “Besides, there are just as many toxic plants around as mushrooms. Did you see how many Japanese Andromeda are growing in the forest?”

Shota wasn’t certain if he was impressed or worried by Midoriya’s seemingly extensive knowledge of toxic flora. Hisashi was a chef; was that something they taught at culinary school? Was that how Izuku picked it up? Shota made a mental note to never make an enemy of a chef, or a Midoriya for that matter.

He rejoined Kan and the Pussycats at their table a few minutes later. Ragdoll bumped him with a shoulder as he sat down. “Kid seems happier now.”

Shota nodded. “He’s getting there. I think he’s still unused to having friends or people that care about him. He doesn’t think to ask for help.”

“Not unlike someone we know,” Kan joked. Shota glared at him, earning a chuckle. “Oh, come on. Between that and the way he fights, he’s almost a mini-you.”

Shota rolled his eyes. “We’re nothing alike. He’s far more emotional, and I don’t use aikido.” When the teasing continued, Shota pulled out his phone. He hadn’t gotten a chance to watch yet, but Midoriya’s father had sent him that match video he’d promised. “Here. Exhibit A,” he said, playing the video and sliding his phone to the others. He’d watch the video himself later.

As the others quieted down and focused on the aikido match, Shota could pick up faint talking in the video’s background. “I’m not betting on a sure thing…” Something about that voice niggled. The cackle at the end of the video made his hair stand on end without using Erasure. Where had he heard that before?

---

Izuku sat down with the bowl of katsudon Katsuki had shoved into his hands. The blonde hadn’t said anything, but when Izuku took his first bite, he decided it was Katsuki’s version of an apology. What was he thinking? Katsuki never apologized. Maybe a birthday present? Either way, Izuku wasn’t complaining. This katsudon was good.

He was on his way to get seconds when he saw Kota walk off into the forest. Izuku glanced between Kota’s retreating back and the tables where everyone else was chatting animatedly. He loved his friends and appreciated all the birthday wishes, but part of him dreaded one more person asking why he hadn’t said anything. Izuku grabbed two bowls and headed for the woods.

He followed Kota’s trail without much difficulty and found a track leading up the mountainside to a rocky outcropping. Kota sat there with his feet dangling over the edge, staring out over the wilderness. Izuku cleared his throat as he approached, not wanting to startle the boy. “I thought you might want some dinner.”

Kota curled his lip in a snarl. “Whatever. I don’t want anything to do with you or the rest of you ‘heroes.’ So, get lost and forget about my secret hideout.”

Izuku tried not to grin. “This is your secret hideout? Gotta say, it’s a lot cooler than the forest clearing Kacchan and I used to play Heroes and Villains in when we were kids.”

Kota blinked at him for a moment before looking away, small fists clenched at his sides. “Spending your whole life trying to be heroes and improve your quirks? It’s dumb. All you want to do is show off.”

Izuku hummed, thinking of Katsuki. He set Kota’s bowl down before moving a few meters away to sit down against the cliff face. Last thing he wanted was to crowd Kota. “Some people are like that, yeah. Not everyone though. I didn’t even have my quirk until a year and a half ago.” When Kota gaped at him for a few seconds, Izuku asked, “Is it okay if I eat over here? I love my friends, but I’ve kinda had enough of people for one day.”

Kota grumbled something under his breath and sat back down at the cliff’s edge, pulling the bowl closer to him, but not eating. After a few bites in silence, Izuku said softly, “You know, I’m pretty sure one of my friends told your aunt that katsudon’s my favorite food. Know why?” Kota glanced over his shoulder at him but didn’t say anything. Izuku’s voice fell into something softer as he traced patterns in his rice with his chopsticks. “My mom used to make it for me all the time when I was little. It’s one of the few things I have left of her.”

Kota turned to face him a little more, and Izuku knew he was paying attention. The teen set his bowl aside, appetite suddenly gone. “She was killed six years ago by a villain. She was protecting me. I never found out who the villain was; they were never caught.”

Kota stared at him wide-eyed.

Izuku rubbed at his eyes, unsurprised to find tears. “It was the worst day of my life.” It really was. She died shielding him, and he was alone until the paramedics found him. Then he was alone at the hospital until Shigaraki came for him. He wondered how long Kota was alone before Mandalay picked him up. “I hear we have that in common. Your parents were the Water Hose heroes, right?”

Surprise, then anger flashed across Kota’s face. “Did Mandalay tell you that?” he yelled.

Izuku shook his head. “Not who they were, just that they were heroes who were killed a few years ago. I figured it out from the timing. I…kinda pay attention to serial killer villains at large, wondering if each one might be the same that killed my mom.” Izuku gave a small laugh and wiped at his eyes again. “Pretty lame, huh?”

Kota jerked his head away from Izuku to look back out at the forest. “Everyone here’s so crazy. Calling people stupid names like ‘hero’ and ‘villain’ and then killing each other because of it. Focusing on their quirks. If they hadn’t been showing off, they’d still be here.”

Izuku sighed. Kota wasn’t just angry about heroes then; he hated quirks and the way superhuman society worked. Honestly, he couldn’t fault the kid. Things were pretty messed up. “You’re right about hero and villain labels being stupid,” he said, praying that Aizawa wasn’t lurking somewhere nearby. “It only divides people more, makes it easier to forget that the ‘other guys’ are human too. But…Mom wasn’t a hero. She protected me, because she loved me.” Even if she didn’t believe in his dream. “Parents are like that, hero or not.” Deciding he’d pressed his luck enough, Izuku stood up with his bowl and started to walk away. He stopped a few paces away to look back over his shoulder. “Kota?”

“What?” the boy growled.

“It still hurts. I even had a nightmare last night about it. But…it does get better. Having people around you who care helps. If you ever want to talk or rant, I’ll listen.”

Kota tilted his head as he stared at Izuku. After a minute he huffed and looked away. “Yeah, whatever.”

Izuku walked back to the cabin, mulling over what he’d said. He wasn’t sure it was the right thing, or if Kota was even listening for most of it. At least Kota knew he wasn’t alone now.

As he came within sight of the cabin again, he spotted Aizawa waiting for him with his arms crossed. Izuku kept his head down in hopes his teacher wouldn’t be able to tell he’d been crying. “Birthday or not, you aren’t getting out of remedial lessons, Midoriya. You’re late.”

“S-sorry, Aizawa-s-sensei,” Izuku stuttered, walking faster to drop his bowl off in the kitchen.

Of course, Aizawa heard it. He caught Izuku’s shoulder with a hand as he passed. He took Izuku’s bowl and nudged him toward the restroom. “Go wash your face.”

Izuku nodded, not trusting his voice. Aizawa gave his shoulder a light squeeze before releasing him. He ended up running into Aizawa again in the hallway outside the classroom. He suspected Aizawa had been waiting for him. The glare he shot the rest of the remedial students when they slipped inside seemed to support the theory. No one asked where he’d been, though he did catch Kirishima and Hitoshi shooting him worried glances.

Hitoshi was here despite having passed his final because of the heroics coursework he needed to catch up on. Sero, Aoyama, and Uraraka just barely avoided having to attend too. As it stood, there were eight of them here. Kirishima, Sato, Kaminari, Ashido, Hitoshi, Katsuki, Monoma, and Izuku. Izuku was a bit curious how Monoma alone of 1-B ended up having to attend, but he had a feeling it was a sore topic for his friend.

Remedial classes weren’t that bad in all honesty. Izuku knew most of the material but took notes out of habit. He didn’t so much mind how tired he was by the time they were released at 2:00 a.m. What did bother him was the lingering tension between him and Katsuki and how Aizawa and Sekijiro were obvious in their attempts to keep them apart when they did practice maneuvers. And the fact Monoma couldn’t resist poking at the obvious tension whenever the teachers had their backs turned.

“If the rest of 1-A is like you, Bakugo, I don’t see how you’ve all gotten so far. Oh, wait. There are seven from your class here and only one from mine.”

“Hey!” Kaminari protested. “That one is you. What gives?”

“I, at least, can admit when I make mistakes,” Monoma claimed. “Tell me, Bakugo, is it true that after picking a fight with your own teammate, you and your ‘powerful’ quirk were completely outclassed. Then Midoriya went and—"

Izuku snapped. “Monoma, drop it!” Monoma flinched…and now everyone—except Katsuki—was giving Izuku worried looks. He sank in his chair and refused to look at anyone.

He might have locked himself in the restroom after class to avoid everyone. He found himself texting Tomura about his day. His best friend was always up for a good venting session, and Izuku knew he was awake, the scruffy night owl. After a good 15 minutes of back and forth, the stress had bled off enough for Izuku to feel how tired he was. It had been a long day.

He skimmed through the other texts he’d gotten over the day as he walked back to the room the guys shared. He still didn’t know how All Might, Maijima, and Ms. Joke had found out about his birthday, but he could blame them for Tensei, Hatsume, and the Big Three finding out. The corner of his mouth twitched in an attempted smile. When did he get so many friends?

“Izuku?”

Speaking of friends, Hitoshi was still up, waiting for him. The rest of the class was sound asleep. Must be one of Hitsohi’s insomnia nights. “Hey.”

“You okay?”

Izuku thought about it. Hitoshi was starting to get really good at telling when he was lying. Izuku wondered if that was a “friends” thing or a side effect of having been brainwashed by him so many times. Either way, Izuku was too tired to try coming up with a lie tonight. “Not really. Long day plus a bad dream last night.”

Hitoshi frowned. “Anything I can do to help?”

Izuku started to shake his head, then asked, “Could you make me sleep?”

“Why?”

“I don’t dream under your…”

The world faded out as Hitoshi chuckled. “Goodnight, Zuku.”

Chapter Text

The second full day of training went better than the first, aside from Bakugo’s extra-short temper and the muscle soreness lingering from the day before. And the continued insufficient sleep. At least the mental and emotional exhaustion had abated somewhat. Kota snuck off during dinner again, though Izuku saw him take a plate of curry with him this time. So, he left the boy alone. Besides, he didn’t want to be late to his remedial class two nights in a row. It was too bad they were going to miss out on the Test of Courage though.

Sekijiro had just started a lecture on emergency procedures when Mandalay’s voice rang in Izuku’s head, “Everyone! Two villains attacked us, and it’s possible there are more. Regroup at the cabin immediately. Do not engage.”

Based on the looks on everyone else’s reaction, they’d heard her too. Aizawa’s face set in a scowl as he turned to Sekijiro. “Vlad, watch them. I’ll go help the others.”

Aizawa had nearly reached the door when Izuku’s heart leapt into his throat, and he jumped out of his chair. “Kota! Aizawa, I know where Kota is. Please, let me go get him.”

Aizawa stopped in his tracks, looking between Izuku and the window a few times. There was a strange bluish glow and smoke over the trees in the distance. Aizawa growled. “Fine, but you’re not going alone. Monoma.”

Monoma perked up. “Yes, sensei?”

“Copy my quirk and any others you might need. Go with Midoriya.” Holding Izuku’s eyes, Aizawa ordered, “Get Kota and come straight back here.”

“Yes, sensei.”

Monoma walked forward and shook Aizawa’s hand to copy Erasure, then looked at Katsuki.

Katsuki snarled. “Don’t even think about it.”

Monoma shrugged and high-fived a reluctant Hitoshi instead. Aizawa, Monoma, and Izuku ran down the hallway and out the door. Monoma held a hand out as Aizawa split away from them. “Mind if we speed this up?”

Izuku nodded, expression grim. He gave Monoma a low-five then sprinted into the lead. “Tell me if your muscles start twitching, and we’ll slow down.”

“Got it. So where are we heading?”

“An outcropping partway up the mountain. How long do you have those quirks for?”

Monoma frowned. “Roughly seven minutes. It’s a little less reliable when I’m tired though.” And they’d been working their quirks two days straight on not much sleep. Lovely.

“Right. Let me know when you need a refresh of mine.”

They ran into trouble five minutes later when they started climbing the mountain trail. There were two voices ahead of them, and Izuku recognized both of them. Izuku nearly tripped when he matched the deeper one to footage of Muscular’s latest rampage in Fuchū. Muscular who’d murdered the Water Hose heroes and dozens of others, Muscular who had cornered Kota. Izuku shot Monoma a frantic look, and his friend seemed to catch how dire things were.

Monoma nodded and put on a small burst of speed as Izuku dropped back slightly. No need to let the villain know right off the bat that they were both there. “The mindless musclehead convention is in Shinjuku. Did you take a wrong turn?”

Izuku didn’t see how Muscular reacted, but he could hear the indignant “Hey!” Then there was blessed silence.

Izuku rushed forward, noting Muscular’s vacant expression as he ran past the man to scoop up Kota. Monoma eyed Muscular for a moment before lightly touching his hand, careful not to break him out of his trance.

“What are you doing here?” Kota asked, tears welling in his eyes as he clung to Izuku’s shirt.

“I was worried about you. We’re getting you back to camp, okay? We’ll keep you safe.” He held Kota close as he walked back over to Monoma. “I thought you could only hold onto three quirks at a time.”

“You’re right, but I’ve already lost Aizawa’s. We’d better get going before I lose Shinso’s too.” He tapped Izuku on the arm before they started running back down the trail. “Stay!” he yelled back over his shoulder for good measure.

Izuku dug his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it before handing it to Monoma. “Call Aizawa, then Yagi. He works with All Might. That was Muscular. He has a muscle augmentation quirk that’s insane. He’s killed dozens of heroes and civilians. We need backup.” Izuku was tempted to have him call Kurogiri too, but Monoma gasping and tripping chased the thought away.

The look of horror on his face when he met Izuku’s eyes meant only one thing. Brainwashing was gone. Monoma tossed the phone back, muscle fibers erupting from his skin and tearing his shirt. “Get Kota to safety. I’ve got your back.”

“Use my speed but be careful,” Izuku shouted, pushing his own quirk for every ounce of speed it could give. No sooner had he pressed the call button on his phone, then the ground bucked beneath his feet. Izuku curled around Kota and rolled to take the majority of the impact when they hit the ground. His phone flew off the edge of the cliff. “Damn it.”

A quick glance confirmed that the villain had caught up to them and was trading blows with Monoma. Kota gripped Izuku’s shirt even tighter at the sight. Izuku jumped back to his feet and ran. If he could find somewhere for Kota to hide, he could come back and help. With his phone out of commission, they were on their own. They couldn’t outrun Muscular with how quickly he’d reached them. But maybe they could—

“And where do you think you’re going?” Muscular dropped out of the air in front of them.

Izuku scrambled backward and kicked Hyper-Processing to the max to dive out of the way of the man’s fists slamming down. He gasped at the spasm in his legs but forced himself to tuck into a roll and come back to his feet before Muscular could aim another punch. There was a crater in the ground where he had been a second before.

“Ooh, you’re a speedy one. Say…” Muscular squinted his…one good eye at Izuku. Izuku wondered how much he could actually see out of that mechanical eye. “You’re that Midoriya kid, aren’t you? You don’t look like much. Don’t see why the boss gave us special orders for you. Tell you what, hand over the kid, and I’ll let you and your friend there go.” He nodded his head back to where Monoma was picking himself out of a crater in the mountainside.

Izuku furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what Muscular meant by “special orders.” Whatever they were, they didn’t matter right now. Like hell was he letting this monster hurt Kota! “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

Muscular smiled. He tapped his chin with a finger and said, “Huh, well, I guess that means you’re in my way. This will only hurt for a second.” His fist flew faster than any human could have followed.

Thankfully, Izuku had activated his quirk while Muscular was talking. He leaped sideways, feeling the wind of the punch’s passing. This guy was on par with All Might.

Muscular’s fist collided with the mountainside on Izuku’s right, sending cracks shooting through the stone. Izuku’s eyes widened in apprehension as the cracks continued to spread, and the rock face started shifting above them. Rock slide.

A massive arm wrapped around Izuku and Kota, and they were airborne. Izuku looked up to confirm that it was Monoma before curling himself around Kota again to shield him from the rapidly approaching treetops. The combined roar of falling rock and Muscular’s rage rattled Izuku’s nerves further as they fell.

Monoma tried to absorb most of the impact, but their rough landing in the forest still knocked all the air from Izuku’s lungs. He hadn’t regained his breath before Monoma shoved them aside and another impact shook the ground.

Kota yelled, and Izuku knew they hadn’t lost Muscular that easily. Izuku scrambled to his feet and tried to suck air into his lungs. They couldn’t outrun the villain, and they couldn’t call for backup. If they could avoid getting killed long enough, maybe they could take the fight to their backup instead? Muscular could fight two of them at once, but could he fight nine?

“Monoma!” Once he had his friend’s attention, he tossed his head in the direction of the cabin. “Mandalay’s order.”

Monoma nodded. He caught a punch from Muscular and headbutted the taller man’s face. While the villain reeled, they bolted toward the cabin. Muscular was quick to follow, now with a bloodied nose. There were a few near misses as they dodged a handful of punches, and Izuku wondered if they might make it.

The answer was no.

“Look out!” Kota yelled. He was looking over Izuku’s shoulder. Izuku hit the dirt without thinking. Monoma didn’t react fast enough. Izuku’s friend was hit in the back by a log. Muscular had thrown a freaking log at them.

“Monoma!” Izuku called, concerned when the copycat didn’t immediately get to his feet. And Muscular was almost on them. Izuku pried Kota’s fingers from his shirt and pushed the kid into a bush. He pointed toward the cabin. “Try to sneak away or find somewhere to hide. I have to help my friend.”

“But he’ll kill you!” Kota cried.

Izuku gave his best reassuring smile. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Now go!” Without waiting for Kota to obey, he rounded on the villain who now stood over the dazed Monoma. Izuku kicked the back of the man’s knee and aimed an elbow for his left kidney. “I’m not letting you lay a finger on them!”

Muscular bellowed as the teen’s blow hit true. He swung an arm at Izuku, catching him across the chest. Izuku fell back and rolled to his feet as he regained his breath. Monoma was standing now and back on the offensive. Izuku took a moment to examine their environment as he pulled his bowie knife from its sheath in his pocket. He was really glad Aizawa had insisted they go over knifework today.

Aside from the log Muscular had thrown, there wasn’t any other significant debris. Muscular or Monoma could probably uproot one of the maples or andromeda growing around them if they put their minds to it, but there wasn’t much Izuku himself could use. So, he waited for an opening, circling Monoma and Muscular as they traded blows. When they grappled, Izuku dove in and swept his blade across the back of Muscular’s thigh right above the knee in the hope of severing a hamstring and crippling him. He didn’t cut as deep enough, and more muscle fibers sprang up to cover the damaged ones.

Muscles multiplied on the villain’s legs, and he kicked Izuku, sending him flying backward. He rolled across the ground and stopped when his back hit a tree trunk. “Ow…” he blinked spots from his eyes and looked up to see familiar clusters of red leaves. “Japanese andromeda…” Izuku’s eyes widened, and he looked between Muscular and his knife, which had landed a few feet away. He rose to his feet slowly, making sure he wasn’t seriously injured. Then he reached up and grabbed a fistful of leaves.

He scooped up his knife and set to quickly crushing the leaves against the tree’s trunk with the pommel, mumbling as he worked. “This is such an imprecise way of dosing, and I don’t even know if it’ll react the same way as if ingested, but…” Izuku looked over his shoulder at where Monoma was starting to struggle. “Muscles have a large blood supply. His mass is enough this won’t kill him…most likely.” He rubbed the crushed leaves along the knife’s blade, then moved toward the villain again.

Instead of aiming for a leg this time, Izuku went for a solid stab to Muscular’s back. The man saw him coming and whirled around to grab Izuku by his neck. The teen choked and grabbed the arm cutting off his airway. Muscular laughed, and Izuku remembered he still had his knife. He gritted his teeth and stabbed the blade into Muscular’s forearm. Muscle fibers sprang up around the hilt before Izuku could try to twist or slice with it, forcing him to jerk his hand back just in time to avoid it being trapped too.

Muscular swung Izuku around, using him to bludgeon Monoma. Then Muscular threw him. A tree stopped him this time too. His head cracked against the solid bark, and black spots swarmed his vision as he sank to the ground facedown.

“Midoriya!” Monoma shouted.

Izuku blinked slowly. Everything hurt, and the forest floor was tilting like the deck of a storm-tossed ship. Thinking or moving was too much effort. He focused on breathing—which also hurt—and not throwing up instead.

Through swimming vision, he saw Muscular approach him. The muscles on his arm peeled back to allow him to yank Izuku’s knife free. He snapped the blade in half and tossed it on the ground. “You think a little stab wound can stop me? I didn’t realize they let idiots into UA. I was hoping to at least get a good fight tonight, but you’re pathetic! It pisses me off!” He stopped over Izuku and raised his fists.

“Leave him alone!” Kota yelled, holding his hands up to spray the villain in the face with water. Kota seemed almost as surprised by his action as Muscular did.

While the villain was distracted Monoma picked up the log Muscular had used against them earlier. He roared and swung it into the villain, sending him flying into the forest. Monoma dropped the mass of wood and rushed over to his fallen friend. Fingers ghosted over Izuku, checking for injuries. “Midoriya, can you hear me? Shit, that’s bleeding a lot,” he cursed when his fingers brushed the back of Izuku’s head.

Izuku let out a faint whimper at the contact. His head felt like it was splitting open now that he thought about it. Tears welled in his eyes as he tried to move away from the touch.

“Hey, don’t move. Kota! Here, hold this to the back of his head.” There was the sound of tearing fabric, then the pressure at the back of his head returned. “Don’t let him move or fall asleep. I’ll lead Muscular away.”

“Mono…” Izuku whispered, catching his friend’s attention just in time. “sta…poisoned…dromeda.”

Monoma said something under his breath, another curse probably. Then he was running.

Izuku wasn’t sure how much time passed after that, but he eventually registered the sobs coming from behind him. Kota. Right, Kota was trying to maintain pressure on his head wound. Crying so hard he shook wasn’t really helping, not that Izuku could blame him. He wished the kid didn’t have to see him like this. He didn’t need to see more people getting hurt. “Kota…” At least his voice was a little less slurred now, even if it took longer than it should to think of the words he wanted.

“Y-yeah?”

“It’s going to be okay…Monoma will bring help. We’ll be fine.”

“You keep saying that.”

Oh. Okay, he had a concussion. Yeah, not that surprising. Was the ground moving on its own again, or was that just him? Then there were heavy footsteps approaching. Something about them set off alarm bells amidst Izuku’s splitting headache. “Kota,” he whispered. “Someone’s coming. Hide, and don’t come out unless you recognize them.”

“But…”

“Go,” Izuku said as sternly as he could. He moved his left hand up to hold the fabric at the back of his head in Kota’s place. It was soaked, and his hair was sticky with blood too. How long had he been laying here? Worry crept up on him as his vision swam and weariness hit him again.

There was a small gasp, then the sound of scattering leaf litter behind him as Kota finally moved. The heavy footfalls stopped somewhere to his right. Izuku tried to look without moving his head. A bare foot covered in green skin came into view as the footsteps resumed. He didn’t recognize that foot.

His breath caught in his throat as he heard the rev of a chainsaw, and terror flashed through him. He couldn’t think. The person—or creature—crouched down next to him, and Izuku caught sight of more green skin and an exposed brain. Nomu. The thing tilted its head and might have sniffed him. Izuku couldn’t hear anything over the chainsaw on one of its appendages, couldn’t breathe through the panic. The chainsaw puttered out, and it stood up. It turned its head as if listening to something; then it walked away.

Izuku held his breath until the Nomu was out of sight and dark spots started dancing across his eyes again. He gasped in a lungful of air, then another. Maybe it thought he was dead. Good. Izuku lay there trembling and breathing. The panic hadn’t completely faded. He’d faced Nomu before. Why was he reacting like this? Was it one of its quirks? If it was a quirk… “K-kota…” he whispered, voice shaky.

His vision wavered as Kota crawled out of his hiding spot behind him and moved to where Izuku could see him. Izuku blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision. The fuzziness stayed, and so did some of the dark spots. “I-it’s okay, Kota.”

Pain spiked through his skull as Kota leaned forward to reach his head wound again. Izuku realized his left hand wasn’t on it anymore. When did it slip? Kota kept one hand there and swiped at his eyes with the other. He was crying. “Why? Why would you do this? You don’t even know me.”

Izuku moved his right hand—ow, that arm hurt too—up to grip Kota’s free hand. “Heroes are always risking their lives to save people, a-and I decided a long time ago that I didn’t want anyone else to go through the pain we did…not if I could help it.” He absently noted that talking was taking more and more effort. He gave the kid a wobbly smile that probably wasn’t reassuring. His vision blurred even worse, and his eyelids drooped against his will. He shouldn’t fall asleep with injuries like his, but he didn’t think he’d have a choice for much longer.

Hurt as he was, Izuku couldn’t help his mind wandering to his classmates and friends. He hoped they were doing better than he was.

---

“Hey, do you smell that?” Kirishima asked.

Katsuki glared at his friend for a second before sniffing the air. His eyebrows drew together. That didn’t smell like smoke.

“Hey, Shinso, you okay?” Kaminari asked, shaking the Troll Doll’s shoulder.

The purple-haired boy looked a little woozy and unfocused. He opened his mouth to answer, but his eyes rolled back in his head. He slumped against his desk, dead to the world.

Kaminari yelped, and the rest of the class were on their feet in an instant. Troll Doll was an insomniac, and he did not just fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Katsuki’s hair stood on end as he looked around for a cause. His eyes finally settled on a few wisps of lavender something coming out of the air vent in the ceiling. “It’s gas! Shitty Hair, break the window!” he barked. The way Kirishima did so without question made Katsuki grin.

“Everyone outside,” Sekijiro called, lifting their unconscious classmate over one shoulder. Only when they were out did they realize how murky the air indoors had become. “Anyone else feeling lightheaded?”

Kaminari raised a hand, swaying slightly. Ashido nodded while scratching furiously at her arms, which seemed to be breaking out in a rash. Maybe a reaction to her acid? Katsuki glanced down at his hands, quickly deciding that whatever this gas was, he didn’t want to find out if it was flammable.

They backed away from the building as the pale purple gas spilled through the opened window. There was no sign of the villain responsible, but the fact it was restricted to the building…

“Pikachu, they’re hooked into the ac system, and what are all those ducts and pipes made of?”

Kamirani may not be the smartest, but he knew a thing or two when it came to his quirk and what not to touch if he wanted to avoid frying appliances. He perked up now and smiled. “Metal!”

Katsuki gave him a feral grin before glancing at the pro hero who was checking over the unconscious Shinso. Sekijiro looked between them and nodded. “We don’t know what the effects of that gas are. Assume its toxic and defend yourselves. You have my permission.”

Kaminari whooped. He took a deep breath then held it as he vaulted back into the classroom. A few seconds later, the sizzle and crack of electricity filled the air. The cabin’s lights shorted out, leaving only a few floodlights around the yard to see by. Kaminari fell out of the open window a few seconds later, and Katsuki groaned when he realized his classmate had short circuited his brain too. He was going to be useless if they ran into more villains.

And, of course, there was more than one. The gas started dissipating, though Troll Doll remained out, and Kaminari wasn’t much better. Sekijiro assigned Ashido to watch them, given her reaction to the gas might hamper her quirk use, and she was a bit wobbly as well. They clustered under one of the lights with Kirishima, Sato, Katsuki, and their teacher surrounding them, keeping an eye out for trouble.

The rush, then crunch of Sekijiro’s quirk hardening into a wall of solidified blood was Katsuki’s first hint that another villain had arrived. “She’s got some sort of projectile. Watch yourselves.”

They heard a giggle coming from just outside the circle of light they stood in. Katsuki thought he saw movement to his right and fired an explosion off at the tree line. He missed whoever it was, and the giggle shifted to another position. “Oh! So, you’re Bakugo. You’re going to be fun.”

“Show yourself!” Katsuki roared.

“Only if you promise to play nice!” The overly cheery villainess was really starting to wear on Katsuki’s nerves.

He took a guess at her location by the sound of her voice and fired off another blast. No dice. Then a rock went sailing through the air to break the bulb of the floodlight they stood under. Kirishima leaped back to shield Ashido and their incapacitated classmates from the falling glass. Katsuki fired off a blast to redirect some of the shards too.

And in that moment’s distraction, a knife swiped across Katsuki’s left bicep. He jerked back and fired another blast reflexively. He caught a brief glimpse of yellow eyes and blonde hair before his view was obscured by smoke from the explosion. “Damn it, she’s quick.”

“And you play rough,” the villain pouted in the darkness. “Lucky for you, I like it that way.”

Katsuki’s skin crawled as he searched the darkness for her. This chick was fucking creepy. Their game of cat and mouse continued for several more minutes, earning Sato and Katsuki a few more cuts along the way. They could barely land a hit on her. Katsuki tried to hold off on using his explosions, as they kept his eyes from adjusting to the darkness.

The stalemate was broken by the arrival of backup…for the villainess. “I thought you said you had this handled, Toga?” A tall man in a long coat stepped out of the gloom Katsuki’s eyes were finally adjusting to. “Where’s Mustard?”

“Dabi,” The villainess whined. “I do have this handled! But they broke Mustard’s clone, and they’re just so fun to toy with. Besides, we have to wait for Compress anyway.”

Dabi huffed out a laugh. “Of course, they did. That gives us even less reason to wait.” He scanned the gathered hero students before his eyes settled on Katsuki. “We only need one of them alive after all.”

Katsuki snarled and lunged, not liking the direction this was going. The tall, skinny bastard smirked at him and motioned with one hand. Katsuki was stopped midair by a large green hand grabbing his neck. “Die!” he yelled, exploding whoever had grabbed him.

He escaped the person’s hold and leaped back to avoid a blast of bright blue flames from the tall guy. Katsuki’s eyes followed the blue fire as it spread along the tree line; between the fire, the villains and the building, he and his classmates were hemmed in on three sides now. He stepped slightly closer to the forest and its wall of fire to allow him to dodge future attacks without putting his classmates or the cabin in immediate danger. The heat from that blue fire was unreal, sweat already running down Katsuki’s arms to drip off his fingers. In the firelight, he could finally get a good look at the villains. Dabi was covered in burn scars, Toga had some sort of gas mask on and a set of tanks and tubes on her back, and the green one…

“Nomu!” Kirishima yelled behind him.

While not as bulky as the black Nomu they’d faced at the USJ, this one had multiple limbs sprouting from its back. As he watched, various power tools and even a chainsaw sprouted from them. All revved to life as the Nomu locked eyes on Katsuki. “Nomu?” Dabi said in a bored tone. “Knock out the explosive one. Destroy the rest.”

Chapter Text

Shota ran through the forest heading toward the rock slide he’d seen earlier. He’d told Mandalay to relay his permission for the students to fight back. Now he had to see what trouble his and Kan’s problem children had gotten into. No one else should have been close to the mountain. If Monoma and Midoriya weren’t involved in that somehow, Shota would eat his capture weapon.

A roar to his right gave him pause. There was a crash of broken trees, then an anguished yell. Shota’s blood ran cold. That was Tokoyami. If he’d lost control of his quirk…His feet moved before he’d finished the thought.

He found Shoji first. One of his tentacle limbs was severed near the end and bleeding. He described the villain they’d run into and how Tokoyami’d lost control after Shoji was injured. Shota used the mini med kit he kept on his utility belt to hastily bandage the bleeding stump and sent Shoji back toward the cabin. If Moonfish was here, he wanted an injured student as far away from him as possible. Now to take care of Tokoyami.

If he could get clear line of sight on Tokoyami’s body, he could erase Dark Shadow. The problem with that was Dark Shadow himself. The quirk fed on darkness and its human’s emotions, and after seeing a classmate and friend partially dismembered, it was no wonder he’d lost it. Dark Shadow was currently taller than the trees and wrapped all around Tokoyami in a misguided bid to protect him. And the quirk was destroying everything in sight.

A few moments’ watching had him amending that assessment. It wasn’t operating on sight so much as sound. A branch snapped, and Dark Shadow whirled around to destroy the whole tree, seeking the source of the noise. Shota worked out a plan to draw Dark Shadow’s focus to the other end of the clearing and expose Tokoyami. Before he could put it into action though, sounds of fighting approached from the left. Dark Shadow roared a challenge, and Tokoyami cried out, “No! Stay back! It’s too dangerous.”

Two people with identical muscle augmentations barreled through the trees, punching each other. “Too dangerous, you say? That might just be what I need.” Shota’s eyes widened as he recognized Monoma. The shirtless blonde ducked under a sloppy punch from the much larger villain he was fighting and dropped the muscle quirk in favor of diving between the man’s legs and out of the way of Dark Shadow’s incoming claws. The student ran from the clearing, leaving the villain and Tokoyami’s quirk to fight each other.

Shota threw out his capture weapon and snagged the student, nearly getting punched in the face for his effort. A quick flash of Erasure told Monoma who’d grabbed him, and the student sighed in relief, relaxing. Shota released his quirk and capture weapon, holding a finger up to his mouth. The two circled the clearing and watched as Dark Shadow made quick work of the musclebound villain, shaking him like a dog would a rabbit.

Shota didn’t recognize the villain offhand, but something about the quirk seemed familiar. He glanced down at the student and whispered, “Who?”

A worrying amount of anxiety clung to the cocky teen’s eyes and voice when he answered, “Muscular. Midoriya said he’s a serial killer.”

Shota nodded. Now he recognized him. So, there were at least two serial killers at the camp. With his kids. Shota clenched his jaw. Could this night get any worse? “Where’s Midoriya?”

Monoma looked away. “He’s hurt. I had to leave him and Kota to lead Muscular away.”

“You did well. Shoji will likely find them on his way to the cabin. Leave the rest to me.” With that he stepped into the clearing, calling on Erasure as he pulled his capture weapon from his neck. With Dark Shadow occupied on the far side of the clearing, Tokoyami was now visible. Shota locked eyes with his feathered student and watched relief enter his eyes as Dark Shadow shrieked and shrank. Shota caught Tokoyami when he dropped out of the air and set him on the ground. Once Dark Shadow fully retreated within Tokoyami, Shota blinked and dropped Erasure. “You okay?”

Tokoyami shakily rose to his feet. “I’ll be fine, sensei. I apologize for letting Dark Shadow get out of hand.”

Shota steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. “Your friend was hurt. Your reaction was normal. You’re not a hardened pro just yet.” Shota quickly bound Muscular, hoping his capture weapon would hold if the villain regained consciousness before backup arrived. He used his knife to cut off the remainder of his weapon, leaving him with two dozen feet of material to work with. About half its original length, but he’d worked with less before.

“He…probably won’t wake up any time soon. Midoriya might have poisoned him…” Monoma said sheepishly. “It slowed him down. Only reason I held him off long enough to get here.”

Shota shot him a look before standing and motioning for the two students to follow him. One headache at a time. He’d ask about that after he made sure all his kids were alive and accounted for.

Shota led Tokoyami and Monoma through the woods following the trail of destruction Monoma’s fight with Muscular had left. A short time later, they spotted a very still Midoriya and a very distraught Kota holding the shredded remains of a shirt to the back of the older boy’s head. Kota’s teary eyes locked onto them, and he yelled, “Help! He stopped responding when I talk to him.”

Shota quickly dropped to his knees beside them and removed Kota’s hands to see the damage. The bleeding appeared to have mostly stopped, but the amount of blood already spilled and the swelling around the wound were worrying. The complete lack of response from Midoriya was even more so. He very carefully rolled Midoriya onto his back to get a look at his face, grimacing when he realized how big the pool of blood under his head had been. Midoriya was very pale, partially dried blood caked the left side of his face where it had been on the ground, and his eyes were closed. He was still breathing, though it was shallower than Shota liked. “Damn it, problem child.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Nezu. As soon as the rodent picked up, he said in as even a tone as he could manage, “Add a Medevac to that request for backup. Midoriya’s going to need one asap.”

“Done. Keep us updated.”

“I will.” He hung up and carefully wrapped a bandage around Midoriya’s head. He didn’t know how seriously the kid was injured, but he had to move him somewhere safer. Monoma took Kota, and Shota carefully lifted Midoriya.

As they moved, Kota lifted his head from Monoma’s shoulder to ask, “Did you take care of the monster?”

Monoma gave the kid a grin and assured him, “Yeah, Kota. Muscular’s tied up and waiting for police. He’s not going to hurt anyone else.”

Kota shook his head. “No, not him. The other one. With green skin and a funny brain.”

Shota stopped in his tracks. There was a Nomu here? Phantom pain ran through his cheekbone and arms. “Where did you see that?”

“It found us after you left. Midoriya told me to hide. It checked out Midoriya then left,” Kota said, on the verge of tears again. “I thought it was going to kill us.”

“Which direction did it go?”

Kota pointed the direction they were going, and Shota cursed under his breath. It was headed for the cabin. Though why it had left Midoriya alone was concerning in its own right. Shota activated his quirk, using it to aid him in winding his capture weapon around Midoriya and him. Once certain Midoriya’s head and neck were as stabilized as possible, he sprinted forward. The students followed the pace he set.

There was smoke and fire ahead of them that definitely hadn’t been present when Shota left the cabin. Behind him, he heard Monoma ask Kota, “Hey, can I copy your water quirk? Looks like we might need to put out a fire up ahead.”

“Sure.”

A moment later Monoma picked up his pace to run alongside Shota, reaching over to tap him and Midoriya. “All set, sensei. We’ll just need to find somewhere safe to put Midoriya and Kota.”

Shota hummed agreement. An injured student and a young child had no place on a battlefield. They broke from the trees and paused to assess the situation. A scarred young man stood with his arms crossed watching as the Nomu Kota had described fought a group of Shota’s students and Kan. Sato was stumbling and barely dodging attacks, likely out of fuel for his quirk. Kirishima and Ashido were trying to hold off another villain—a girl who looked barely older than them—while defending Shinso and Kaminari who appeared incapacitated.

Shota nudged Monoma and nodded his head to the corner of the building. “Over here. They’ll be out of sight, at least.” Shota unwound his capture weapon and lowered Midoriya to the ground, noting with trepidation how blood was already showing through the bandage he’d applied. “Hold on, kid,” he murmured before standing back up. “Tokoyami, guard them. We’ll send Ashido and Sato this way with the other injured as soon as we can.”

Tokoyami nodded, moving to stand protectively over the two.

Shota and Monoma rushed into the fray. Shota targeted the scarred man who seemed to be in charge, and Monoma used his copy of Erasure to neutralize the Nomu’s power tool appendages before it could stab Sato with a power drill. “The cavalry is here!” The dramatic blonde shouted, using a bit of Midoriya’s speed to put extra power behind the sweep he aimed at the Nomu’s legs while holding one hand out to shoot a stream of water at the closest part of the blue blaze.

“About time you extras showed up!” Bakugo yelled, throwing a powerful explosion at the Nomu’s head to help with toppling it. “Where’re Deku and the pipsqueak?”

“Injured. Someone’s watching them,” Monoma replied as he dashed over to help with the female villain.

Shota meanwhile traded a few blows with the villain he now knew to be responsible for the fire. The pro kept Erasure locked on the man and flung his capture weapon out to snare his opponent. “Not so tough without your quirk, are you?” he asked, reeling the restrained villain in.

Without turning his head, Shota yelled, “Sato, Ashido, get Shinso and Kaminari around the side of the building and out of the line of fire.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t think they’re out of danger just yet, Eraserhead,” the scarred villain said while smirking. “We’re not here for the pros.”

Shota slammed the man against a tree trunk and in a menacingly low voice asked, “What are you after? How many of you are here?”

The man laughed, and Shota slammed him against the tree again. Something snapped, and the man winced. “The real question, Eraser, is if you can save all your precious students in time.” Then the man melted.

Shota blinked and stepped back in surprise. The villain was nothing more than a puddle of beige goop in seconds. A fake? A clone? Was that one of the villains’ quirks? He pulled his capture weapon free of the mess, letting out a sound of disgust as he shook the substance off of it.

“Sensei!”

He wheeled around to see Ashido frantically waving at him from the corner of the building. A quick glance told him that Bakugo, Monoma, Kirishima, and Kan had the Nomu handled. The female villain had disappeared. He ran to where Ashido stood. The panic in her black eyes set him on edge. “What’s wrong?”

“Tokoyami’s gone!”

Shota froze, sweeping his eyes over the collection of students sprawled here. Kota was crying again. “He was here, but I looked away to check on Midoriya. Then he was gone!”

Familiar panic clawed at the edges of his mind. He pushed an equally familiar distance between himself and the feeling. His kids were relying on him. “We’ll find him. They couldn’t have gotten far,” Shota heard himself say as his eyes tore across the battlefield once more. He’d sent Shoji back ahead of him. He should have reached here long before Shota and the others. That made two students missing.

Monoma cried out as he fell, clutching his leg. Shota wasn’t sure if the Nomu or Midoriya’s quirk got him, but Shota moved to intervene, capture weapon flying before him. Out of the corner of his eye, Shota saw Bakugo vanish, leaving a blue marble in his place. Before Shota could turn his quirk on the villain responsible, a wall of blue flame split the yard, separating him and Kan from their students.

“Hate to leave you without an encore, but your reputation precedes you, Eraserhead,” a voice Shota didn’t recognize called. “Make sure to tell the police you met Mr. Compress when they take your statement—”

“No monologuing!” A more familiar voice yelled. Shota wondered if this scarred man was the real one or another copy. “Nomu, time to go.”

Shota snarled. He needed line of sight, and Monoma’s water quirk was taking too long to beat back the fire. He spun to face the building behind him and flung his capture weapon at a second-story window ledge. If he could get above the fire…

He began to pull himself up when Ashido screamed for him again. “Sensei, Midoriya’s not breathing!”

For a split-second, Shota was torn. Then he dropped back to the ground and ran for his unconscious student. He had to believe the other three were still alive, and if the villains bothered to take them alive there was hope they’d stay that way long enough for others to reach them. Midoriya needed Shota’s help right now.

The kid still had a pulse, though fluttery, uneven, too fast. Probably the blood loss catching up to him. Shota checked his airway, gave him a breath, and started chest compressions. “Kan! What blood type is Midoriya?”

Kan made a habit of knowing all of his students’ blood type on the off chance something like this happened, and with him chaperoning the camp, he’d learned those of 1-A as well. His blood control quirk had saved a few lives in the past, but Kan could only manipulate his own blood. And he was type B. He couldn’t give everyone an emergency transfusion. Kan shook his head. “Kid’s type O. I can’t help.” He turned his head to look at Sato who looked about ready to pass out. “He’s O too, though with how low his blood sugar is right now, it could be dangerous.”

“I’m…type O,” a hesitant voice said. Shota glanced over to see Kaminari looking a bit more aware. Shota let Kan deal with him while he gave Midoriya another breath. Problem children, all of them.

Monoma skidded around the corner then, covered in soot and looking frantic. He froze when his eyes landed on Shota and Midoriya. Kan rested a hand on his student’s shoulder and gave Kaminari a critical once over before nodding. “You’re skinny. Shouldn’t take more than a pint or two off of you, but it’ll buy us some time.” Kan looked back to Shota.

Shota nodded and sat back on his heels. Midoriya was back to breathing on his own for the moment, though there was no real pattern to the breaths. Shota planned to keep a close eye on him until he was handed off to paramedics. Ashido reappeared—Shota hadn’t noticed her leave and if that wasn’t a sign of stress—with the Pussycats’ rather extensive first aid kit from the cabin. Thankfully, the rescue heroes kept it well stocked for a variety of emergencies.

They’d just hooked up an IV line between Kaminari and Midoriya when the sound of a helicopter made some of the tension melt out of Shota’s shoulders. He sent a silent thank you to whatever power might be listening.

Kan went to flag the aircraft down with Ashido and Monoma, and Kaminari pointed into the forest. “Hey, there’s some of the others.”

Shota followed Kaminari’s hand to see Kirishima, Todoroki, Iida, and Shoji. That was one of the missing students accounted for, at least. When he saw the haunted look on Iida’s face and the tears in Kirishima’s eyes, he feared the worst for the other two. “What happened?” he demanded.

Todoroki answered with more ice in his voice than Shota had heard from him since the Sports Festival, “We got Shoji back, but the villains took Tokoyami and Bakugo.”

Chapter Text

All for One hummed while listening in on the bar. The Vanguard Action Squad was busily recounting their parts of the mission. Overall, it had been a success. They had only lost Muscular, Moonfish, and Mustard. While their quirks were certainly interesting, All for One could live without them. The drawback from Mustard’s quirk would have been quite unwelcome actually. The boy wasn’t immune to the gas his own quirk produced. And newer generation quirks were supposed to be stronger. He shook his head. Midnight’s quirk was far more useful even with its limitations.

Oh well. That boy was the heroes’ problem now. All for One was admittedly curious how the two serial killers managed to get themselves captured though. He supposed he’d have to wait for the official report or, even better, Izuku’s rant about the event when he returned.

All for One rather enjoyed his talks with the boy. He had a way of picking people, fighting styles, and quirks apart that was well worth encouraging. To think that no one in the boy’s life had ever recognized his talent; it was a testament to society’s failings. It was refreshing to find someone capable of intelligent conversation with a level of interest in quirks approaching his own. Perhaps he was just growing bored of Daruma and his obsession with the singularity.

Until that report there was much to do. The heroes wouldn’t let this go lightly. Daruma was moving all essential research to the secondary facility. Even if the Kamino warehouse—designated as their scapegoat—were discovered with its score of substandard Nomu, their true investments would be protected. And there were other safeguards he needed to put in place before his looming confrontation with All Might.

When conversation at the bar hit a lull, All for One spoke, “Kurogiri, could I speak with you?”

“Certainly, Master.” A second later the mist man appeared before him. “How may I be of service?”

“In the event that the impending fight leads to my downfall, there is another of my followers who may prove to be of use to Young Tomura. The Doctor has kept track of his whereabouts for me.” All for One handed Kurogiri a flashdrive. “It is likely that Tomura will have to convince him he’s worth following, but I have confidence he will prove capable.”

Kurogiri bowed and took the drive. “Of course, Master. Is there anything else?”

“Yes. Tell Daruma to bring me Ragdoll once he’s done collecting his initial data.”

Daruma had everything he needed by the next afternoon. The Doctor had conveniently kept the heroine sedated since her arrival. So, taking her quirk, Search, was no trouble at all. All for One had had his metaphorical eye on Search for the better part of a decade. He’d just never had a good reason to target the rescue heroes prior to now. If interesting quirks vanished left and right, that could draw unwanted attention, but to have a hero go missing during an already planned raid? Much more believable and too good an opportunity to pass up. And he wouldn’t be in the shadows for much longer now anyway. Why continue to hide?

His mind turned to the Midoriyas. Why indeed. It was odd having people besides Tomura to protect, but not unwelcome. He’d learned his lesson with his brother and gotten a reminder when Izuku rushed off to the USJ despite being very ill. He couldn’t cage someone for their own good. He had done what he could to ensure the father and son would survive the coming storm. He’d kept them innocent and unaware of most of his dealings. They would not fall with him.

Curious, he tapped into Search and called up a mental image of Hisashi. Immediately, information started running through his head. The man had a sore throat from overusing his quirk and was favoring his right leg due to a bruised hip. Several smaller bruises littered his arms and torso. Had he recently been in a fight? His heartrate was higher than normal likely due to stress of some sort, and he was on a train. All for One made a mental note to check in with the man later to see what was amiss.

He released Hisashi from the quirk’s focus and turned it on Izuku. All for One stiffened in his seat as injuries listed themselves. Partially healed fractures in two ribs, his right humerus, and the occipital and parietal bones of his skull, a wound on the back of his head that had been stitched, blood loss, brain swelling and low oxygen levels that had already started leaving brain damage, several bruised vertebrae, and exhaustion. And this was after healing quirks had been used on him based on Search’s last finding.

Fuming, he disconnected the various tubes and lines attaching him to his medical equipment and stood up. His treatment could wait. This would only take a minute.

He activated his warping quirk, focusing on Izuku as he turned around to face his chair. Liquid bubbled up from the floor in front of it, and a lifeless Young Midoriya emerged. Once he was fully here, All for One activated another quirk, this one called Stall. He could not use it often due to the strain it put on his body, but it created a pocket of time centered on him that behaved differently from the world around it. In this case time inside the bubble was sped up to the point all else stilled. The sensors back in Izuku’s hospital room were surely going crazy with the absence of their charge. So, this had to be quick.

All for One caught Izuku with a web of black tendrils extending from his fingers and lowered the boy into the chair carefully. He released the tendrils and set a hand on Izuku’s shoulder to hold him in place as he rested his other hand on Izuku’s head. He had a few quirks that might work for this, but with time being of the essence both for secrecy and for reversing and limiting brain damage, he opted to temporarily give Izuku his copy of Super Regeneration.

Izuku was too far gone to even twitch when All for One forced the quirk to transfer, though Search told him when it began working seconds later. Under better circumstances All for One might have grinned at how readily Young Midoriya took to a second quirk, but not now. He called up another of his healing quirks that was specific to nerves and focused that quirk on Izuku as he moved his hand to the back of the boy’s head, where the worst damage was. This quirk only worked on recent injuries; thankfully all the damage Midoriya had sustained was less than 24 hours old. He could heal where All for One had been unable to.

A few minutes later he was satisfied. There would be no lasting harm, and the only flag still showing up with Search was exhaustion. Lastly, All for One took Super Regeneration back. This time Izuku did react, if only by tensing slightly and twitching. That was a positive sign. It had been a long while since All for One had need to be careful with removing a quirk, but he managed to leave Izuku uninjured.

Mission accomplished, he released Stall and returned Izuku to the hospital via Warping. He chuckled at the thought of how much head scratching the doctors and nurses were in for. They’d find Izuku disconnected from all his machines but in perfect condition.

As amusing as the mental image was, he had a much more pressing issue that needed tending to. Someone had ignored his and Tomura’s order to leave Young Midoriya minimally harmed. They’d all but killed the boy. All for One intended to collect payment for that disobedience in blood.

---

Izuku was dragged to wakefulness by a pounding headache. He didn’t even bother trying to open his eyes, knowing how light sensitive he got with his migraines. He groaned and rolled over to bury his face in his pillow.

“Izuku?”

“Dad?” Izuku croaked, then coughed. Pain spiked through his head with the movement.

“Izuku,” his dad breathed, sounding relieved. “Here, let me get you some water. How are you feeling?”

Izuku cracked his eyes open long enough to see the cup of water in front of his face. He took it and drank slowly with his eyes closed once more. The brief glimpse he’d caught of his surroundings was enough to tell him he was in a hospital again. Now that he focused, he could feel the IV taped to his arm and a few sensors stuck to his forehead. He should probably be worried he didn’t notice those before. Also, the back of his head was cold. “Tired. Headache. What happened?”

“I’ll have a doctor bring you something. What do you remember?”

Izuku frowned and tried to think where he’d been last. There were scrambled fragments at first. A forest at night, a crumbling cliff, running with a little kid in his arms. Kota. Then it all came crashing back: the villain attack, the race to find Kota, the fight with Muscular. The last thing he remembered was being thrown and a flash of pain. “Are Kota and Monoma okay?”

Izuku’s dad sighed, probably rolling his eyes at Izuku’s worrying about others first. “They’re both fine Izuku. You…” his voice wavered, and he paused to clear his throat. “You weren’t.”

“What do you mean?” Izuku asked, dread creeping up his spine at his dad’s tone. Something was very wrong. He couldn’t remember his dad ever sounding like that, except right after Mom died. Izuku forced his eyes open, blinking several times to bring the world into focus.

His dad’s eyes were red and swollen and tired. He tried to give Izuku a smile, but the tears hanging in his eyes belied the gesture. He gripped Izuku’s shoulder as he said, “We almost lost you. That villain cracked your skull, and they were talking extensive brain damage. One of your teachers had to give you CPR. They didn’t know if you’d wake up.”

Izuku felt like someone had poured ice water over him. Brain damage? How bad was it? He was awake. So, surely it wasn’t too serious. But his quirk was neurologically based. Could he still use it?

His father read the fear in his eyes and shook his head with a small laugh. “That was what they told me on the phone. By the time I got here, every last injury was mysteriously gone.”

“Wha…?”

Dad shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m not going to question a miracle. I’m just glad that you’re okay.” His dad drew Izuku into a tight hug. Izuku returned the hug, wondering why it felt like his dad was leaving something out.

The doctor found them still hugging it out a few minutes later. They gave him something for the headache and ran some tests to check for any permanent damage. Aside from some lingering light sensitivity, all the tests came back clear. They wanted to keep him until his headache cleared just in case. Izuku was too tired by the end of the tests to care.

He yawned and shifted on his thin hospital mattress, wanting nothing more than to be at home in his bed. Heck, he’d take Shigaraki’s sofa over this thing. Why did hospital beds suck so much if they wanted people to feel better?

His dad chuckled, and Izuku realized he’d said that out loud. “You’ll be home soon enough. In the meantime, I think there are some people who’ve been waiting to see you. If you feel up to visitors.”

Sleep on the uncomfortable mattress seemed depressingly unlikely. Might as well have company for his misery. “Sure.”

Izuku grumpily adjusted his position a few more times while his dad stepped from the room to make a phone call. Izuku had just begun to remember how he disliked hospitals when the door to his room burst open to admit Iida, Uraraka, Kirishima, Ashido, Kaminari, and Monoma.

“Deku!” Uraraka shouted before glomping on him.

Good ole Iida was quick to come to his rescue. “Uraraka! Be careful, please. He only just woke up after being in a coma for two days. He—"

“Two days?!” Izuku interrupted. His dad hadn’t mentioned he’d been out for so long. He looked between his friends, hoping he’d heard wrong. No one owned up to the joke.

Monoma gave him a weak smile. “It’s good to have you back.”

“Yeah man,” Kirishima said, offering a hollow grin of his own.

Kaminari rubbed at a bruise on his forearm as he said, “Dude, don’t do that ever again, please. I thought Aizawa was going to ask me to defibrillate you.” His tone was unnervingly serious.

A quick look at the rest of his friends had Izuku’s anxiety climbing the walls. “Okay, what is everyone not telling me? Because I know that you’re all hiding something. Kirishima’s not smiling, and Kaminari’s not joking. Those are huge red flags.”

His friends flinched and looked away. Iida took a deep breath and took it upon himself as class rep to be the bearer of bad news. “Aside from seriously injuring you and a few others, the villains targeted Shoji, Tokoyami, and Bakugo. We succeeded in retrieving Shoji, but Tokoyami and Bakugo were kidnapped.”

Izuku’s world ground to a halt. “Tell me everything.”

And they did.

Izuku’s head spun as he tried to process everything he’d missed. A total of nine villains and one Nomu had attacked the camp. Two students had been kidnapped, and one of the Pussycats was missing. A few of his classmates were still unconscious from one of the villains’ gas quirk. Mandalay and Yaoyorozu had suffered head injuries too and only woken up yesterday. Todoroki had several cuts that had been stitched up after running into Moonfish. Ashido was getting over a weird rash. The rest of the students were okay. Kota was okay.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Monoma said, snapping his fingers. He fished something out of his pocket. “Kota wanted me to give this to you. He already gave me one,” his friend added with a soft grin.

Curious, Izuku unfolded the…card. Kota had written him a thank you card. There was an apology in there too, but the majority of it was thanks for saving him from Muscular. The words were blurred by tears before Izuku could finish reading it.

While he was occupied, Iida whispered something to Monoma. Monoma nodded and shooed his friends from the hospital room, closing the door behind him as he too left. Iida remained.

When the Izuku’s tears ceased, Iida cleared his throat. “Midoriya?”

Izuku looked at his friend and grew concerned when he saw the rigid uneasiness his friend held himself with. “What is it, Iida?”

Iida’s expression twisted for a moment. “It pains me to tell you this, but the villains that escaped? They used dark-colored warp gates.”

Izuku stared at Iida for a moment, not comprehending what his friend had said. When the words finally clicked into place, Izuku’s eyes flew wide. “What? But Kurogiri would never—are you sure they weren’t the light grey ones from the USJ? Why would he—unless maybe he’s being blackmailed, but no, that makes no—”

Izuku ran his hands through his hair, distress only growing. This couldn’t be right. But Iida knew what both warp quirks looked like. There was no way he’d mistake one for the other. His train of thought abruptly stopped when his fingers found a shaved patch of scalp at the back of his head. There was a slightly raised scar in the center of the shaved area.

“I wish I were mistaken, Midoriya. Truly. I didn’t tell the police yet. I owed it to you to let you know first. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling…”

Izuku held up a finger to tell Iida to wait. Izuku’s other hand traced the scar on the back of his head. Scars… “Iida,” Izuku said cautiously. “The fire quirk villain Kirishima saw, the one covered in scars, did anyone get his name?”

Iida frowned and raised a hand to his chin. “I think Kirishima mentioned one of the other villains calling him Dabi. Why?”

Izuku closed his eyes and lowered his head into his hands. His best friend’s coworker was an actual villain. And Kurogiri was somehow involved. Did Dabi blackmail or threaten him into this? Did Tomura know? Was he in danger?

“Midoriya, are you okay?” Iida asked, sounding distressed himself. “Is it your head? Should I call a nurse for you?”

Izuku shook his head. “I need to borrow my dad’s phone.” When Iida made a questioning sound, Izuku lifted his head and met his friend’s eyes. “I met Dabi. A few weeks before the camp.”

Iida looked startled. Before he could say anything though, the door opened again. Monoma and Kirishima were back, and this time they’d brought Todoroki and Shoji with them. Monoma walked over to plop down on the edge of Izuku’s bed and poked him in the arm. “Now that you’re all caught up, we can get back to talking about that rescue operation.”

“Rescue operation?” Izuku asked while swatting Monoma’s hand away.

“Yes,” Iida said, sounding reluctant. “They want to stage an unsanctioned and completely illegal rescue attempt for Bakugo and Tokoyami.”

Kirishima frowned at Iida. “We already went over this, Iida. It’s only illegal if we use our quirks or pick a fight with the villains. Which we won’t. We’ll find our friends, sneak in, sneak out, and run.”

Todoroki nodded, gaze locked on Izuku. “The police are working on a raid, but they’re taking too long. We need to rescue them soon. A hostage situation only requires one person.”

Dread crawled up Izuku’s spine as he processed what Todoroki implied. And of the two taken, Katsuki was arguably the less…cooperative. If the villains decided to off a hostage, it would likely be him. Was Izuku a hypocrite for listening to his “save Kacchan” instinct this time?

“Time is big in any missing person’s case,” Izuku agreed. “But do we even know where to begin looking? They could have warped anywhere.”

Shoji nodded. “I overheard Yaoyorozu talking to the police earlier. She and Awase stuck a tracker on the Nomu that was there. She made a device to locate it for them. Monoma convinced her to make us one too.”

Izuku raised his eyebrows at Monoma who shrugged. “I’ve been borrowing your quirk periodically. That sped up thinking comes in real handy when arranging a persuasive argument…or making a rescue plan.”

Izuku side-eyed Monoma who grinned innocently at him. “Okay…” He looked around the other faces in his room. Everyone was determined, even Iida. “I’m in, but, Iida? Why are you coming?”

Iida frowned. “To ensure that if things get too dangerous, you all leave rather than get hurt or arrested. If this stays strictly a rescue operation, then…I’m in.” He didn’t seem happy about it, but after what happened when he broke the law in Hosu, Izuku couldn’t really blame him. They could all get expelled or arrested or worse if this went wrong.

“So, where are we going and when? I haven’t heard yet when I’ll be discharged.”

“Kamino and ideally this evening. If you’re doing fine it’s probable they’ll release you in time,” Iida said. Kamino made sense with where Izuku and Tomura had run into Dabi.

Kirishima gave them a small, determined smile. “And if not, we’ll bust you out.”

Shoji, who had stayed near the door since arriving said, “Incoming.”

Izuku’s friends started heading for the door. Monoma left last. Before sliding off the bed he whispered, “We’re meeting at 8:00 out in front of the hospital if you get let out before then. If you’re still in here at a quarter til, we’ll break you out.”

Izuku nodded, watching Monoma leave the room just in time for his dad to return. His dad had a plastic bag in hand, and Izuku smiled as the smell of beef bowl filled the room. “Dad, you’re my hero.”

His dad laughed and started unloading their meals. Was this lunch or dinner? What time was it even? This hospital room didn’t have any windows. Maybe they were worried about security?

He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he took his first bite. Then he was wolfing his food down with almost as much enthusiasm as the first night of the training camp. He nearly dropped his chopsticks when he thought of the camp. “Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“How much trouble is it going to be getting me a new phone. I lost mine while fighting Muscular…”

His dad grinned at him and reached into the plastic bag still sitting by his chair. He pulled out a box and handed it to him. It was a new phone, the same model as his old one. “I got a few numbers put in, but I don’t know any of your classmates’ or teachers’ aside from Aizawa.”

How did his dad know Aizawa? Izuku shelved that conundrum for later. “You’re the best.”

“Tell my students that. I swear some of them don’t know tempura from teriyaki, and they get mad at me for giving them low marks,” he said while waving his chopsticks around.

Izuku laughed while opening his contacts. He clicked on Tomura’s number and texted him, “I’m Izuku and I’m alive! Had to get a new phone. Hey, remember Dabi? Turns out he’s a genuine villain. Are you and Kurogiri okay? Should I stage a rescue?” Izuku nervously ate the rest of his beef bowl, glancing at his phone every few seconds. Tomura didn’t message him back by the time he finished.

“Hey, everything okay?” His dad asked when he stared at his phone for too long.

“I’m not sure.”

“Want me to take your mind off of it? I can tell you about training with Kamui Woods and Mt. Lady.”

“Training?” Izuku set his phone down. He was all ears now.

“Yeah. Something about if I’m going to throw myself into hero/villain situations I need to be able to handle myself. Mt. Lady is no slouch in hand-to-hand, let me tell you.” His dad absently rubbed at his shoulder. “And Kamui keeps telling me I need to pick out a hero name, and I think I might have to, if only to keep you safe,” he said with his nose wrinkled. “No clue what to pick though.”

“Mixtape,” Izuku said without hesitation.

His dad eyed him with suspicion before asking, “Why?”

“Because you’re always spitting fire.”

There was a beat of silence. Then his dad groaned and set his head in his hands. “You’re not allowed to hang out with Togata anymore.”

Izuku laughed so hard his stomach hurt. If only for a moment, the cracks in his world could be forgotten. He ignored the doubt and suspicion and fear to joke with his dad. There would be plenty of time to think about all those later; right now, he had to make his case for The Fire Hero: Mixtape.

Chapter Text

“Guys? We have a fourth captive to look for,” Izuku said reluctantly. He stared at his phone, wishing against hope that the news page would change or vanish. It did neither, and the damning missing person article stared back at him.

“What are you talking about?” Monoma asked, leaning to look over his shoulder at the screen as their train slowed to a stop at another station. Two more to go before Kamino. “Matsuura Naomi, age 23, quirk: Color Change…This is dated from months ago. What does this have to do with anything?”

“She went missing the week before the USJ attack,” Izuku said, feeling numb. “She can change the color of anything organic that she touches…hair included.”

Iida got what he was saying and whipped his head around to stare at him. “You think…?”

Izuku saved the woman’s picture and closed out of the article. He opened his texts only to see no response from Tomura. It had been hours now. “Yeah…” Izuku couldn’t believe that Kurogiri had done all that willingly, that Tomura was involved, but he’d pulled up the video clip of Subete and Nomani on that rooftop overlooking the Hosu attack. Subete’s quirk was speculated to be something with localized time acceleration to the point to breakdown. But looking at the results? It looked an awful lot like Decay.

Izuku should have seen it sooner, but the idea of a villain with a time quirk—those were extremely rare to begin with—sidetracked him so much he never even considered…He couldn’t believe it, but that was the only explanation that fit all the evidence. Except it didn’t fit. Tomura and Kurogiri were family. He knew them. They could never…

A hand landing on his shoulder drew him from his thoughts. He blinked and looked up to see Iida’s concerned face. “Are you okay to continue? You don’t have to do this.”

Except Izuku did. He had to know. If he left things like this, he’d drive himself crazy before he even got home.

They had their plan and the receiver, and a short time later they had their disguises. Izuku adjusted his beanie as they walked deserted streets. They had walked a few blocks from the commercial center and its replay of the UA press conference and were entering a more rundown sector, much closer to the type of neighborhood the Shigarakis lived in. Izuku stayed on alert, recalling Sensei’s warning to not explore in this part of town.

That was another thing. How was Sensei going to take this? Did he know, or did Tomura and Kurogiri keep it secret from him? Izuku didn’t even want to start thinking about that line of questions. So, he carefully shoved them back with everything else. He could wait to have a meltdown until he knew for sure.

It didn’t quite get rid of the shake in his hands as he eyed every intersection and alley they passed. His friends weren’t oblivious to his behavior either. When they were only two blocks from their target, Todoroki moved to walk beside Izuku and gripped his shoulder. “Midoriya, what’s going on?”

Izuku flinched at the unexpected contact before locking his eyes on Todoroki’s. “I-I…”

Iida sighed and shook his head. “Someone he knows might be working with the villains.”

“What?!” Kirishima and Monoma yelled.

Shoji silenced them with a look.

“Is this true?” Todoroki asked, eyes hard as ice as he studied Izuku.

Izuku swallowed and looked at the pavement. “That’s how it looks. I’m hoping they were blackmailed into it, but…” He shook his head and blinked back tears. He let out a shaky laugh. “Kurogiri took care of me when I had the flu and always looks out for me. And Tomura’s been my best friend for years. I just can’t imagine them as…”

Todoroki’s grip on Izuku’s shoulder lightened slightly. Then he pulled Izuku into an admittedly awkward hug. They stayed like that for a moment before pulling apart. Izuku swiped at his eyes, and Todoroki looked to the others as if uncertain what to do.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Iida said, walking to stand on Izuku’s other side.

Izuku glanced between Todoroki and Iida and nodded. Flanked by the friends who’d stood beside him in Hosu, he continued walking toward the warehouse that was their destination. Something about the darkened building struck as familiar, but Izuku couldn’t place what.

He wondered if he’d seen it at some point while out with Tomura, but he’d made it a point to never walk this area after dark. So, he couldn’t be certain. Shoji scouted the area with his quirk as they moved into the narrow alley adjacent the building, listening first, then extending a tentacle with an eye on it to look through one of the windows. “No one’s moving around inside, but it’s too dark to see anything.”

“That’s why I brought this,” Kirishima said, holding up a night vision scope. “Someone, give me a boost.”

Izuku stared at Kirishima. From his time talking to Snitch, he had a vague idea how expensive most surveillance gear was, and the scope his friend held was top quality. Kirishima must have felt really guilty for not being able to save Katsuki. The explosive teen had been snatched by Mr. Compress right from under Kirishima and Monoma, after all. Izuku frowned in concern as he watched his friend climb on top of Shoji’s shoulders.

After a minute, they heard a sharp intake of breath from Kirishima. “Guys? This looks really bad.”

“Well, what is it?” Monoma asked impatiently.

Kirishima lowered the scope and turned away from the window. Izuku tensed at the fear in the redhead’s eyes. “There’s more than a dozen Nomu in there, all in these big vats. I don’t see any of the captives though.”

“But if they’re not here where could they be?” Izuku asked, brows furrowed.

Shoji had kept a few ears out for trouble while they talked. He suddenly stepped back from the wall and lowered Kirishima back to the ground. “Get down,” he whispered, holding his arms up to shield them.

A loud crash echoed through the alley, and a cloud of dust rose from the back of the warehouse. The students were all knocked off their feet as the ground shook. Izuku recovered first. “What’s going on?”

Shoji gestured toward the far end of the alley. “Heroes are here. I can hear Mt. Lady, Best Jeanist, Gang Orca, and Tiger. Sounds like there’s police with them too.”

“Seems the heroes had this handled after all. Let’s get going before someone sees us,” Iida said, leading the way.

Monoma grinned as he followed. “They made it sound like they didn’t know anything at the press conference to get the drop on the villains. Excellent misdirection.”

Izuku was about to weigh in himself when he heard the soft tap of dress shoes on concrete. He turned around to look back and saw Shoji staring at the warehouse, not back where the heroes undoubtedly were. Shoji tensed, then whispered urgently, “Run!”

There were voices now, one quiet but eerily familiar, the others raised. Izuku’s feet were frozen in place. Was that Sensei?

A pressure blast tore through the alley wall a few feet from them followed by a suffocating malice far worse than anything Izuku had felt while fighting All Might or Stain. It was almost paralyzing—almost because Izuku had a feeling it wasn’t aimed at him.

---

Katsuki tested his restraints for the thousandth time. The straps pinning him to this uncomfortable chair still refused to budge, and the metal clamped over his hands still hung heavy and unyielding. For the thousandth time, he tried not to think about the last time he’d been unable to escape a villain that captured him, unable to move. He wasn’t suffocating this time. So, why couldn’t he seem to get enough air?

It wouldn’t be so bad if there was anything else to focus on. But ever since those bastards tied him down while Scarface threatened to flambe Tokoyami if he caused trouble, they’d left him alone in this metal room. He wasn’t even sure how long it had been. There were no windows.

After a quiet eternity, a vortex of black and purple opened under his chair. Weightlessness quickly followed by a jarring landing brought him to a bar. Still no windows, but there was a door and a hallway. The shelves of alcohol behind the counter looked temptingly flammable, but he couldn’t do anything so risky without knowing where Birdbrain was.

The villains from the camp were here along with Subete and Nomani. Subete was in casual wear instead of his villain suit, though he still had one of those creepy hands over his face. Nomani was actually wearing clothes and appeared much more human than cloud. Katsuki blinked, taking a moment to process that their color pallets were different too. Hands for Brains had pale blue hair, and the warper—and the warp gate he’d just used—was black and purple. Were the previous colors a disguise?

Subete turned off the tv, which had been on a news station, and spun on his barstool to face him. “Now that we’ve explained the situation to Tokoyami, it’s your turn. Can you guess why you’re here, Bakugo Katsuki?”

Katsuki gritted his teeth and stayed silent.

Subete laughed quietly and stood. He leisurely strolled over, stopping a foot away “Never thought I’d see the day you were speechless. Fine, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” The skinny bastard leaned down right next to Katsuki’s ear. “I destroy things I don’t like. And you? I really, really don’t like you…Kacchan.”

Katsuki froze at the nickname. Just how closely had this fucker been watching his class? Deku hardly ever used that name for him anymore. The last time he’d used it was during their heroics final. Did they hack the feed somehow? No, Nezu was too smart for that. What if there was a spy? That made sense with the villains finding the training camp.

“Oh yeah, and why’s that?” Katsuki asked, trying to hide how unnerved he was, both by the nickname and by the idea one of his classmates was working for the villains.

“You’re a prime example of everything that’s wrong with this society and its ‘heroes.’ You’re just as violent as All Might, but angrier and more vicious. Hm, maybe you’re closer to Endeavor, actually.” Katsuki growled and tugged on his restraints but was ignored. “You step on and beat down anyone who you see as beneath you, which is just about everyone. Honestly, I’ve met villains nicer than you. Hell, I am a villain, and I’m nicer than you.”

“Yeah! Handyman’s the best,” the creepy blonde chick said, smiling wide. She had her gas mask pulled down around her neck, revealing her abnormally sharp canines with the expression. Long canines, kept going on and on about blood and stabbing people at the camp, probably some sort of blood quirk, Katsuki concluded.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Subete said, turning toward the villainess. “Toga, you wanted a sample before we got started, right?”

The girl nodded excitedly.

“Do your thing. Not too much damage though. I want him conscious for the next part.”

“Not to worry, boss man!” She chimed. She pulled one of the small canister’s off her gear and pressed a button. A huge needle popped out of the end without a hose.

Fuck no. Katsuki thrashed, stopping only when Toga held a knife to his jugular. “Now, now, as handsome as you are covered in blood, Subete’s got dibs.” She winked and stabbed the needle into his thigh, making him jolt. The knife against his skin nicked him, and he felt a drop of blood roll down his neck. The girl giggled as if she’d just told some funny joke.

“The fuck’s your problem?” He yelled, leaning away from her knife. He watched his blood travel up tubing to fill one of the larger glass tanks on the villainess’s back. For the first time, he noticed a few of the other containers had a red-brown film on the inside. They’d been used. How many peoples’ blood did she get at the camp? What was she even using it for?

“Alright, that’s enough. He’s starting to lose color.”

“Okay, Big Sis Magne.” The blonde yanked the needle from his leg and skipped back to her booth. Katsuki felt a little ill when he saw her lick his blood off her knife.

“Time for the main event at last.” Subete said, eyeing him. In a blur of motion, he reached down to grab one of Katsuki’s wrists just above the block of metal encasing his hands.

Katsuki didn’t dare to move. He’d seen what this guy did at the USJ when he walked back toward the entrance. He’d heard the quirk description on the news report.

Subete had his pinky raised, and he wore a manic grin behind the hand on his face. “Ah, now I’ve got your attention. Without your hands, you’re essentially quirkless, aren’t you? And I know how you feel about the quirkless.” Katsuki blinked and stared at the villain. “You heroes are all about justice, right? How about walking a mile in your victim’s shoes? That’s poetic justice if I’ve ever heard it.”

Quirkless? Katsuki’s victim? What was this guy on? Katsuki hadn’t done anything. A memory of him and Deku as kids flashed through his mind. Katsuki’s eyes widened. That’s how he knew about the nickname. Hand Freak knew Deku.

Hand Freak knew about what Katsuki’d done to Deku.

Was Deku the spy?

That train of thought abruptly ended when Subete’s pinky made contact with Katsuki’s skin. Burning pain—much worse than anything he’d gotten from his own quirk—shot up his arm. He gritted his teeth against a scream. When the pain stopped, it left him panting. He blinked to clear slightly blurred vision and almost gagged. The skin on his right wrist was gone, exposing a perfect handprint’s view of muscle and tendons. Blood flowed freely from the edges of the wound, but Subete seemed to have very carefully avoided damaging the veins on the inside of Katsuki’s wrist. The intent behind that precision made Katsuki shudder.

“Let’s make the other one match now, shall we?” Subete reached for Katsuki’s left wrist, but stopped mid-motion when there was a knock at the door.

A voice on the other side of the door called, “Pizza delivery.”

The villains looked at each other, a few of them looking at the one in the black and white bodysuit. The man waved his hands in front of him. “It wasn’t me! It totally was.”

Then the wall exploded inward with a familiar yell of “Smash!” All Might was here.

More heroes piled in behind him. There was a flurry of activity, then All Might was kneeling in front of Katsuki, wrenching the metal off his hands and popping the straps that secured him to the chair. “Ah, you must have been scared. I’m sorry it took us so long to find you. You’re safe now, Young Bakugo.”

“What?! I wasn’t scared!” Katsuki yelled, jumping to his feet. He stumbled as lightheadedness hit him. After a moment he was fine, shoving All Might’s stabilizing hand off his shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. Find wherever they’re keeping Birdbrain.”

All Might nodded to a short, old guy in a yellow and white costume. Said geezer shot off down the hallway, bouncing off the walls and ceiling. While All Might and the villains monologued at each other, Katsuki followed a policeman out the door and down the stairs to get his wrist looked at by paramedics.

They were still in the stairwell when Katsuki felt something bubble up in his throat. He coughed, then choked as grey liquid poured out of his mouth and rapidly spread across him. For a moment he felt like he was caught in rapids, then he was thrown out of the liquid on solid ground again. He coughed and stood up, clutching his wounded wrist, which throbbed from landing on it. “Damn it!”

He whipped his head around, taking in the swath of destruction he now stood in the middle of. He was outside, in an urban area he didn’t recognize. He spotted the villain responsible next. Standing dangerously close was a man in an immaculate suit. He had some type of support item around his neck and over his face. And the man’s presence screamed danger, of a level Katsuki hadn’t felt even facing All Might in the practical.

Katsuki darted his eyes around, looking for a way out. Then he saw them. Gang Orca, Mt. Lady, and several police officers all knocked out, and a little ways from the rest, lying in a crater, was Best Jeanist. The hole in the pro’s abdomen registered next.

No…He couldn’t be…Katsuki wasn’t overly fond of his work study mentor, but he respected the man. He wasn’t the Number Four Hero in Japan for nothing. He thought they’d had a rough understanding by the end of that week from hell. The pro had even expressed interest in hearing Katsuki’s hero name once he decided on one. But Best Jeanist’s agency was hours away from UA. Why was he even here? Did he come because Katsuki was kidnapped? Was this his fault? For the first time in years, Katsuki was frozen where he stood.

Chapter Text

Izuku leaned as close to the break in the wall as Iida’s death grip allowed him. In the silence that had fallen after the attack, they could finally hear what was being said. “Start over as many times as it takes, Tomura. I am here to provide you with help. All of this is for you.”

Izuku closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall. There was no doubt. That was Sensei. But, that attack…that wasn’t Sensei’s quirk and neither was the liquid warp quirk that brought the League and his classmates here. What was going on? And Tomura was not only involved with but the leader of the League.

Izuku shook his head. He had to focus. Katsuki and Tokoyami were over there too. They were still in danger. He hadn’t been able to help when his friends were taken, and he had no intention of standing aside now when they were so close. But what to do? How to get away? Sensei was apparently powerful, on par with All Might powerful. And that—

Izuku blinked in shock. A villain as powerful as All Might. The incident nearly six years ago. Did Sensei and All Might give each other those wounds? But why? What could Sensei have done to get All Might worked up enough to attempt to kill someone? Because that scar tissue covering Sensei’s head? That had to have been intended as a killing blow. And why had Sensei put a hole in All Might’s stomach? There had to be some serious history between the two.

At least Tomura’s hatred of All Might made sense now. Tomura loved Sensei, and he saw what happened after Sensei fought the Number One hero, how much Sensei must have suffered while recovering. Tomura could hold one hell of a grudge. This was the guy who painstakingly hunted down and destroyed that max level player in Quest Conqueror who sniped Izuku’s character right before finishing a dungeon they’d struggled with for a week. Of course, he’d hold a grudge against All Might…and Katsuki. Oh shit. That’s why they took Katsuki.

“Shoji,” Izuku whispered. “Can you see where Kacchan and Tokoyami are?”

His voice seemed to snap the larger teen out of the terror that gripped him. He moved one tentacle limb to the gap in the wall and formed an eye on the end of it. “Yes, they’re standing right next to the suit villain. Bakugo’s right arm is injured and bleeding. Tokoyami appears unharmed. The warper and Dabi are unconscious, but the rest of the League is awake.”

Izuku nodded. “Okay, I think I have a plan, but we’ll need to be quick. I’m pretty sure To—Subete and the other villain want to kill Katsuki.”

---

Katsuki glanced between the Hand Freak and guy in a suit. So, this was the guy pulling all the strings? The menacing aura that kept him and Tokoyami pinned in place was certainly something. But even with the raw power radiating off the guy, there had to be some way to get out of this.

The masked man straightened up and tilted his head to look above the buildings. “Ah, there you are.” Katsuki barely saw him before impact. All Might collided with the masked man who caught both of All Might’s fists as if they were nothing. He barely even skidded backward. The rest of them were blown away from the point of contact by the shockwave.

And the expression on All Might’s face…Katsuki had never seen him look so angry. “I’ll have you return my students, All for One!”

“Have you come to kill me a second time, All Might?” The villain taunted before throwing the hero back. “Did it really take you that long to get here? You’ve gotten weaker.”

“You’re one to talk. It’s kind of hard to ignore that fancy life support mask you have on.” All Might clenched his fist. “I won’t repeat the mistake I made last time. I’ll make certain you’re locked up for the rest of your sad life, right along with your despicable League.” All Might lunged at the villain.

“Sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you,” All for One said, almost sounding amused. “Oh, and I’ll ask you to not damage the respirator. It was a gift.” He held up one arm. Red sparks traveled over if briefly, and it swelled. Then a blast of air shot out from his palm, sending All Might flying and dust whipping through the air.

When the dust cleared, Katsuki could see buildings toppling blocks away, and no sign of the Symbol of Peace. “All Might!” How could one villain be so powerful?

“Not to worry, Bakugo,” All for One said. “It’ll take more than that to kill him.” Turning to face Subete—or Tomura?—he ordered, “Get off the battlefield, and take Tokoyami with you. As much as I’d like to spend some time with Young Bakugo myself, it might be more expedient to dispose of him here. I’ll leave the choice to you.”

Katsuki had a moment to wonder what the villain meant before he was stunned by All for One exhibiting yet another quirk. The villain held up a hand. Black and red tendrils shot from his fingers to pierce the warper’s chest. “Kurogiri, warp them away.” The unconscious villain twitched, and a warp gate opened behind him.

What the fuck? How did he have multiple quirks? There was the liquid warp, the air blast, some degree of super strength to handle All Might’s punch, and now whatever those tendrils were. The others maybe could have been connected, but the tendrils definitely weren’t. Who was this guy?

The ground shook, and a plume of dust rose from the rubble in the direction All for One had thrown All Might. Hand Freak looked between the portal and his boss. “What about you, Sensei?”

“You’re not thinking of the big picture, Tomura. There remains much room for you to grow. Leave now.”

And the guy could float, because why not. As if his powerset wasn’t bullshit enough. No sooner had All for One risen into the air then All Might was back, delivering a blow to the man’s raised arm.

“Come on, Subete,” Magne urged. “Let’s grab the brats and go.”

“Young Bakugo, Tokoyami! I’m coming,” All Might yelled, abandoning his fight with All for One to try to reach them. All for One quickly recaptured his attention by trying to stab him with the tendrils he’d used before.

“I don’t think so,” All for One said, latching onto All Might’s ankle with his quirk. “Because I am here.” He flung All Might across the open ground to crash into a partially collapsed building.

Katsuki and Tokoyami backed away from the villains. They were stuck. Katsuki was injured and starting to get lightheaded. His quirk would only weaken Tokoyami’s if he did use it. He cast an appraising glance at his classmate. He seemed in okay condition, though there was a suspicious patch of dried blood on his pant leg. That Toga girl probably bled him too.

Katsuki let off an explosion with his left hand, forcing Toga and Compress back, then fired at the ground to push himself out of Tomura’s way. He was not letting those hands touch him again.

The dust cloud raised by that move made Katsuki grin. He had an idea. “Hey, Birdbrain, if you’re going to cut loose, now’s the time!”

Tokoyami’s feathers puffed out in alarm as he dodged his own set of villains. “Dark Shadow will hurt you too.”

“Eh, can’t be any worse than what these guys plan to do.” Bakugo held his bloody wrist up for Tokoyami to see. “They’ve made their intentions pretty clear.”

Tokoyami’s eyes widened at the sight before hardening. He nodded. “Very well. Darkness will consume this place.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes at the bird’s dramatics and aimed another blast at the ground right in front of Hand Freak. “Now!” he yelled as dust obscured everything.

Dark Shadow’s roar of rage could be felt as much as heard. Then large black talons raked the ground in front of Katsuki. Katsuki held his peace and quietly backed away from where he knew the villains were. Some of the idiots shouted in alarm. Ha! They were asking for it.

By the time the dust and smoke cleared, Dark Shadow was batting the villains around like playthings. Katsuki barely stopped himself from laughing when Toga got sent flying. Then he saw Magne doing something out of the corner of his eye. She had that big bar magnet in hand and looked like she was concentrating.

Dark Shadow shrieked and whirled around to face the villainess as Tokoyami surrounded in a blue glow became visible. It looked like he was being pulled toward…So, that was her deal. Katsuki flew forward, propelled by a series of small explosions from his left hand. He grit his teeth against the pain when he used his right hand to make one small blast to stabilize himself. He used that pain to fuel his anger as he brought his left arm forward to level a point-blank explosion at Magne.

The villainess’s concentration broke as she tumbled backward. Dark Shadow raced forward and slammed a clawed hand down on the bar magnet, cracking it. He eyed Katsuki, but wheeled around when Toga returned. She’d somehow found a hole in Dark Shadow’s defenses and stabbed Tokoyami in the calf, earning a pained cry and an enraged roar for her effort.

This wasn’t good. Both of them were injured now, and with the blood Toga had already taken, they didn’t have long before blood loss became a major issue. And this whole time All Might wasn’t fighting at full strength. With Katsuki, Tokoyami, and the injured pros—and doubtless civilians trapped in the rubble—All Might was holding back for their safety. And Katsuki knew the hero wasn’t in good shape to begin with.

He and Tokoyami had to get out of here to at least give the hero a chance…

An all too familiar crunch and creak sounded to Katsuki’s right. He knew he’d see a glacier before he even turned, but it didn’t lessen his surprise. Then he heard someone above him call his name.

“Bakugo, Tokoyami, Come on!” Kirishima held his hand out while Iida and Todoroki used their engines and fire for propulsion. The idiots were literally flying over the battlefield.

“That’s our ticket, Birdbrain,” Katsuki said, setting off a one-handed Flash Grenade. Not as bright as the time he’d used it in the Sports Festival, but it got the job done. Dark Shadow vanished, dropping Tokoyami. Katsuki pulled his classmate to his feet and yelled, “Hold on.”

Tokoyami wrapped his arms around Katsuki as a set of explosions rocketed them into the air. Katsuki let out a strangled yell at the pain that flashed up his right arm, but kept his eyes focused on Kirishima. That Shitty Hair. What were he and the others idiots thinking coming out here? Katsuki was mad at them but couldn’t help the smile that split his face as he grabbed his friend’s hand.

---

All for One wished he could still glare. No matter. That foolish rescue attempt was getting them nowhere. He punched All Might aside and raised one hand to fire an air cannon at the teens. He stopped when a familiar voice yelled, “Sensei, no!”

“Young Midoriya?” All Might asked, glancing between the boy and All for One.

Izuku stood in the gap in the alley wall he’d been sheltering behind. the boy had finally found his courage. Of course, it was to defend his tormenter and classmates. Izuku did have a lot in common with All for One’s brother. From defending those unworthy of his protection to jumping into danger, All for One almost wondered if they were distant relatives. Though Izuku did seem utterly incapable of holding a grudge, a point in his favor.

All Might shook off his hesitation first and punched All for One in the stomach with renewed vigor. As if All for One would hurt the boy. All for One kept his focus on All Might as he said, “Leave, Izuku. This fight is no place for you,” He threw another punch at All Might, who was momentarily stunned by the use of his students’ given name.

Between Search and his sight quirks, All for One “saw” the boy freeze, looking between him, All Might, and Tomura. He contemplated just Warping Izuku to a safer location, but the boy’s remaining friends finally tugged him away. Good. Based on Search, he was likely to have a panic attack soon. He needed to be somewhere far from here before then.

“Such recklessness. What have you been teaching those children, All Might?”

“How to be heroes, though it seems I need to cover vigilante laws again. I didn’t think they’d come here after what happened in Hosu. Damn teenagers,” All Might swore as he wiped blood from his lips.

Other heroes were arriving now, and Tomura had yet to leave. All for One’s successor stared at the gap in the wall where Izuku had been. All for One knew today would be hard on those two. He’d hoped they would avoid seeing each other so obviously on opposing sides, but life was rarely kind.

All for One fired off a set of tendrils, grinning under his mask when the hero leaped aside. For once, he hadn’t been aiming for the hero. The tendrils stabbed into Magne where she lay unconscious. After a second spent mapping the villainess’s quirk and how it worked, he forcibly activated Magnetism. Toga had conveniently positioned herself in front of the warp gate, and all the League’s men were pulled toward her.

Tomura braced himself against the pull, attention now on All for One. “Sensei, no! Your body’s too damaged.”

All for One flicked Magne through the portal with his tendrils before commanding, “Tomura, you must continue to fight.” His voice softened a little as he added, “Take care.”

Tomura lost his footing and was dragged back through the portal by Magne’s quirk. Once he vanished, the warp gate collapsed on itself, leaving All for One to face off against the gathered heroes. Well, against All Might and his old mentor, Gran Torino. The other heroes had enough sense to steer clear and focus on evacuating the injured around the edges of the battlefield.

“Ah, Shimura’s friend,” All for One said in greeting to the old man in the yellow cape.

All Might snarled and shifted his footing just enough to put himself between the villain and Gran Torino. “Now that the kids are out of here, I don’t have to pull any punches. You’re finished.”

All for One laughed. Neither did he. “Yes, quite the batch you have this year. The quirkist bully with the Explosion quirk, Ingenium’s younger brother who was willing to commit murder, the abused and emotionally stunted son of Endeavor, and oh, let’s not forget Midoriya. I haven’t seen such a dangerous mind since I was able to look in the mirror. And that was before I gave him his quirk.”

“You what?!”

All for One shrugged, smiling behind his mask. “The boy’s father saved my life once, and I owed him a favor. Izuku is none the wiser, though having heard my villain name, I’m certain he’ll put the pieces together,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. Then he threw another air cannon at the heroes.

All Might blocked the blast with a punch. The fool was unwilling to dodge with all the injured civilians in the ruins behind him. Gran Torino kept All for One occupied just long enough for All Might to recover and launch himself forward in another attack. “Whatever you think you know about my students, they will make outstanding heroes, I promise you that.”

All for One caught the punch with ease and hummed, unimpressed. “We’ll agree to disagree. I am curious though, what do you know of Midoriya? Did you know of his intelligence or tragic backstory when you decided to tell him he was unfit to be a hero?” All for One laughed again at All Might’s shocked expression. “Oh, how I wish he’d listened to you. He would make one of the world’s most dangerous villains. Alas, his character and ideals are stronger than you. He still made an excellent, if unwitting, informant.”

The horror on All Might’s face was worth the ache of every intercepted punch. All for One committed the look to memory. All Might’s face finally twisted into rage as he broke away from their stalemate. “You shut up. Always toying with people, you manipulate and discard them, and scoff at those just trying to lead happy lives. It cannot continue. I won’t let it!” All Might lunged once more.

All for One raised a hand to catch the expected punch, but was surprised when All Might instead grabbed his wrist, twisting his arm out to the side to leave an opening. All for One wasn’t fast enough to block the crushing blow aimed at his mask. He blacked out for a moment and came to on the ground with All Might crouched over him, fist still pressed against his head and one wrist still caught in a bone-creaking hold. Super Regeneration could only do so much for All for One with the constant upkeep his internal organs required. He took a moment to use his Nerve Healing quirk before letting All Might know he was conscious.

“What’s wrong? You seem to be worked up about something, All Might.” The half shrunken face of All Might jerked back, as if stunned All for One was still alive. Fool. Of course, he’d take extra precautions after last time. All for One grinned. “I’ve heard that very same line before, you know. From your predecessor, Shimura Nana. That utter waste of a human who passed One for All on to you,” All for One added, knowing he’d hit a nerve.

“You keep her name out of your filthy mouth.”

“A woman with no skill and grand ideals she couldn’t live up to. How embarrassing for me, the creator of One for All, to see her inherit my brother’s power. And the way she died was so pathetic.”

All Might tensed. Ah, there was the snap All for One had been waiting for. “Enough!” All Might yelled, bringing the hand away from his head to wind up another punch.

All for One powered up an air cannon in his free hand and blasted the hero off of him and high into the air. Sadly, All Might’s old mentor retrieved him before he could go into orbit, likely scolding him for losing his head so easily.

All for One rose to his feet, dusting off his suit. “I find myself conflicted, All Might. Tomura’s been the one to chip away at society’s trust in heroes. So, is it fair that I should land the final blow? For all you hate me, I think I loathe you even more. I killed your master, sure, but you took so much from me, everything I built. That’s why I want you to suffer until your last breath and die broken for all the world to see.”

All for One prepped another air cannon. He saw the moment All Might would have dodged, and the moment he remembered the people behind him in the rubble who couldn’t. All for One smirked. Heroes were so predictable.

When the dust settled, there was All Might in all his deflated glory. “To think that you’re their greatest hero. Now the public sees you for who you are. Try not to be too ashamed,” All for One taunted.

“You may have exposed my weakened state, but in my heart, I will remain the Symbol of Peace, and there’s nothing you can do to take that from me.”

Oh really? The poor simpleton. He acknowledged All for One’s skill at manipulation, yet thought himself immune? All for One had been holding a trump card in reserve this whole time. Might as well use it now to see if All Might’s heart and spirit were as unbreakable as claimed. All for One spread his arms dramatically and said with enough sarcasm to make Tomura proud, “Is that so? Well, I guess I’ll just give up then. But before you cart me off to Tartarus, you might be interested to know that Shigaraki Tomura, my apprentice? His original name was Shimura Tenko, Nana’s grandson.”

As silence stretched between them, All for One saw All Might’s eyes widen in dawning horror. That really was an expression All for One couldn’t get enough of. “I raised him, groomed him to hate you, and watched that hatred blossom as you beat him at the USJ with your signature smile. But the real joy was how much that hatred grew when he learned of how you treated Midoriya, his friend, on that rooftop. No prompting from me required. Where is your smile now?” All for One chuckled.

All Might wavered. Then one of the civilians trapped in the rubble had to call out and remind the hero what he was fighting for. All for One supposed that’s what he got for using them against All Might so many times. No matter, he’d just beat the Symbol of Peace into the rubble. He’d saved a combination of quirks for just that purpose, after all.

All for One activated the quirks he needed, restricting them to his right arm. He really did hate having to destroy part of his suit. But for All Might? He’d do so gladly. “The blows til now were to wear you out. I knew it would take much more to kill you. And now that we’ve fought, I know my suspicion is true. One for All no longer dwells within you. You’ve found a successor. Togata Mirio, right? His performance in the past two Sports Festivals was more than telling.”

The blow pushed All Might back 30 feet, pain written across his face. “I’ll beat you,” the hero whispered. “Not because I’m a symbol, but because my job isn’t done yet. I still have so much to teach him, so much to make up for.”

Now that was a novel attitude from a One for All holder. Every last one of All Might’s predecessors had died by his hand, begging for their lives or defiant to the last breath. Then here came All Might wanting to live to do better, to be there for his student. Refreshing, if a bit late.

All Might’s right arm buckled and shrank, finally dropping the resistance that kept All for One’s blow at bay. The hero transferred his remaining power to his left arm and dealt a blow across All for One’s face while he was off balance.

“A clever trick, but still weak.”

“That’s because I didn’t put my back into it.” The hero wound up one more punch with his mangled right arm. The last words All for One heard before everything went dark were “United States of Smash!”

Chapter Text

As soon as they’d made it away from the fighting, Izuku looked up the name All Might had called Sensei by. And oh, what an internet rabbit hole All for One was. The more Izuku read (on the shady forums Sensei had recommended for analysis research) the more he felt like he’d stepped into the Twilight Zone. The fabled lord of the underworld, the most powerful villain ever written out of history and covered up by the Hero Commission, the man who could supposedly give and take quirks…was the same man who had picked little Izuku up from the hospital after his mother died, the one who could talk and listen for hours about quirks and quirk analysis, the man who was his father’s friend. The one who brought out Izuku’s quirk. Was it even his to begin with?

He turned his phone off when the crowd around him let out a collective gasp. All Might had deflated on live television. He watched numbly as the fight continued, distantly aware of Monoma and Shoji standing close beside him. He wasn’t even sure who to root for. Two people Izuku respected and cared for…he just wanted this to stop.

“Midoriya?” Monoma asked, nudging him with his shoulder.

Izuku looked more through Monoma then at him, and suddenly they were on the edge of the crowd. Monoma pushed him down to sit on the steps of an apartment building. Monoma kept a hand on his shoulder in what was likely meant to be reassurance.

“Focus on your breathing for a little bit, Midoriya,” Shoji said. “We’re right here.”

Izuku tried to follow that suggestion, acutely aware that he couldn’t feel his fingers. When did they start shaking again? He bowed his head and tried to focus on the cold concrete beneath him and breathing evenly.

“Now it’s your turn.”

Izuku’s head shot up. Most weren’t used to the voice of All Might’s true form, but Izuku had heard it plenty over the past few months. On the plaza’s big screen All Might stood pointing at the camera, and All for One was being loaded into an Iron Maiden prison transport in the background. What Izuku doubted anyone but him noticed was the crumpled respirator and the fried wrist monitor lying on the ground between the hero and villain.

All Might’s words took a little longer to register. Did he mean them for Togata or the villains? His students? All of the above? Whatever his intention, the crowd went wild.

The age of All Might and the shadow reign of All for One were ended. What came after remained to be seen.

The next few hours passed in a blur for Izuku. He vaguely recalled meeting up with the rest of their group while he was being checked out by paramedics. Katsuki kept giving him weird looks before the same paramedics rushed him and Tokoyami off in an ambulance. None of them were allowed to ride along.

He didn’t actually remember how they got to the police station, but here he was, sitting in an interrogation room, nursing a cup of tea that had long since gone cold. At least he wasn’t in handcuffs, some cynical part of his mind offered.

The door clicked open, and a very worn Detective Tsukauchi walked in with a steaming cup of coffee. “Detective,” Izuku greeted, setting his unappetizing cup of tea on the table. “I guess you need my statement about the camp and Kamino?”

Tsukauchi flinched. “Yes, and I have a few questions for you.”

“Okay.”

“Why don’t we start with what happened at the camp?”

So, Izuku gave his version of events, Tsukauchi nodding along and occasionally jotting down notes on the pad of paper he’d pulled from his shirt pocket. Then they covered the events from the hospital through Kamino. The detective seemed moderately worried that he didn’t remember much from the end of the fight or arriving at the precinct. He made a gesture to someone on the opposite side of the one-way mirror, and an officer with a cat’s head and fur covered hands walked in with a fresh cup of tea.

This time Izuku drank it.

Tsukauchi waited for him to get halfway through his cup before starting in on the questions. “Midoriya, any idea how you were healed at the hospital?”

Given his newfound knowledge that Sensei had multiple quirks, Izuku had a suspicion. But the police wanted facts, not speculation. “I was unconscious the whole time. So, no.”

“All Might and a few of your friends mentioned All for One addressed you by name at Kamino and seemed to know you.”

It wasn’t exactly a question, but Izuku knew what he meant. Izuku stared into his tea as he answered, “That’s because he does. Sensei—that’s what I call him; I hadn’t heard the name All for One before Kamino—was friends with my father before I was born. When Mom died Dad was out of the country and couldn’t get to me right away. So, he called Sensei; he picked me up from the hospital and kept an eye on me until Dad got home. That’s when I met Tomura and Kurogiri; I guess you’d know them as Subete and Nomani. Shigaraki—Sensei’s surname—had adopted Tomura and hired Kurogiri to take care of him.”

Izuku paused while Tsukauchi wrote. Once the detective caught up, Izuku continued, “After Mom’s funeral, Dad and I moved to California, where he’d been working. I kept in touch with Tomura online, and we played games together as we grew up. I didn’t see any of them again until we moved back to Japan last year…”

Izuku told the detective about getting his quirk, the Shigarakis being supportive of his dream of being a hero (that one earned a raised eyebrow from the stoic detective), and going by their apartment frequently to cook and hang out.

“You had no idea that any of them were involved in a criminal organization?”

“No, not until after the training camp. Tomura and I ran into Dabi a few weeks ago while hanging out. Tomura introduced him as a coworker. Between his presence at the camp and Iida’s description of the warp gates, I started to figure it out…”

Tsukauchi winced in sympathy.

Izuku straightened in his seat and asked, “Did anyone find Matsuura Naomi during the raid?”

“The missing person’s case from a few months ago?”

“Y-yeah. I think they wanted her quirk for Tomura and Kurogiri’s disguises. Based on the timing.”

“Not that I’m aware of, but I’ll double check.” Tsukauchi made a quick note on his pad. “Any idea why the League wanted Shoji, Tokoyami, and Bakugo?”

Izuku stared back down into his tea and frowned. “I don’t know why they wanted Shoji or Tokoyami. I suspect Tomura wanted Katsuki for a personal grudge.” At the detective’s prompting, Izuku reluctantly added, “Katsuki used to be my bully, and well…” He held up his burned hand as evidence.

The detective frowned. “He’d do that to someone for hurting you?”

Izuku gave a small laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I think that’s him trying to show he cares. I was Tomura’s only friend for years,” he said, wondering if Tomura considered any of the new League members friends. “I was the only one aside from Sensei and Kurogiri not afraid of his quirk. Oh, it’s Decay, by the way, not a form of time acceleration. And Kurogiri’s Warp Gate operates off of GPS coordinates. Not sure if he has a distance limit or not. He’s sent me from UA to Hosu before with no issue.”

“I’ll make sure to update that in the database. Speaking of Kurogiri, any idea where the League might have gone?”

Izuku shook his head. “Sorry, only place I knew was their apartment, which I’m pretty sure was destroyed in the fight. Shoot, I think I left one of my notebooks there too last time I visited,” Izuku murmured, distracted by the thought.

“That leads to my next question, actually. Did you talk about your classmates or teachers with them?”

“Well, yeah. Sensei and Tomura are the only ones besides my dad who aren’t weirded out by my quirk analysis hobby. Sensei would even point out applications and weaknesses I hadn’t thought of. We could go back and forth for hours if Kurogiri didn’t interrupt us for dinner or to send me home when it got late…” All his classmates’ and teachers’ quirks, strengths, weaknesses, and personalities. “Was that…bad?” Izuku asked, realizing for the first time what all that information might have been used for.

Tsukauchi looked tired again as he sighed. “They undoubtedly used the information to plan the attack at the camp, but you didn’t know. Knowledge isn’t a crime, Midoriya; it’s how a person uses it. You never used what you knew against someone; they did. That was their choice. You’re not to blame here.”

It was too late. Izuku was thoroughly blaming himself. Was there something in his analyses that pointed the League towards Tokoyami and Shoji? Did they plan to counter Eraserhead with Dabi? Heck, they knew right where Katsuki was from his complaining to Tomura about the remedial class. How much of what happened that night was Izuku’s fault?

Izuku jolted, spilling his lukewarm tea, when a hand landed on his shoulder. He looked up to see Tsukauchi was no longer sitting across the table from him but was crouched next to him. The detective was eyeing him with obvious concern. Izuku was starting to get a little concerned himself with how much he was spacing out (and panicking) tonight.

“Let’s get you back to the hospital, kid. I think with everything that’s happened to you today they should probably check you over again.”

Izuku nodded mutely, and he let Tsukauchi guide him out of the interrogation room. The cat policeman handed him a blanket as he walked past, and Izuku wondered why people seemed to think he was cold. First tea and now a blanket. He wrapped it around his shoulders to be polite and followed the detective to a back exit that let them out into a small parking lot.

Izuku fell asleep at the hospital while waiting for a few test results to come back, only to be woken up hours later by a particularly tired underground hero. “Aizawa?” Izuku asked while rubbing his eyes. “Where’s Tsukauchi?”

“He had to head back to the station. Come on, problem child; the sun’s up. We need to go pick up your stuff.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Izuku asked, anxiety making him feel much more awake.

Aizawa sighed. “Your father’s still giving his statement, and you’re both going to be in protective custody for a while.” When Izuku made a choking noise, Aizawa continued, “You do realize how dangerous those villains are, right? They know you and may come looking for you. I am not letting another student get kidnapped this year.”

Izuku followed his teacher out of the hospital room and down the hallway. He resisted telling his teacher that Tomura would never hurt him. He wasn’t sure how thin the ice he stood on was. “I mean, y-yes? I can understand not w-wanting us at our apartment with Kurogiri knowing the coordinates to warp inside, but where are we staying?”

“UA’s instituting a dorm system. The rest of your class will be hearing about it over the next few days, but you’re moving in early. Your father’s being handled separately. I think the agency he’s been working with is arranging something.”

Izuku nodded. He remained quiet for the rest of the walk to Aizawa’s car, thinking over the last few days—what he could remember anyway. Something occurred to him, and he blushed. Aizawa gave him a sideways look. “What?”

“I apologize in advance for my room.”

When they got to the apartment, Aizawa very tactfully didn’t make a face or say anything at the amount of hero merch—especially All Might—in Izuku’s bedroom. At least there wasn’t any Eraserhead merch, not for Izuku’s lack of trying to find it. Izuku packed what he could in the boxes Aizawa brought. His dad would have to store the rest of it. Were they officially moving out of this apartment? Izuku supposed they had to.

After finishing with his bedroom, Izuku packed his things from the restroom, then swept the rest of the apartment. He stopped in front of the photo of him and his mom hanging on the wall. He debated taking it for several minutes before sighing and leaving it there for his dad. They didn’t have many pictures of her anymore, and Dad had known her longer. He probably missed her more.

Then there were the matching photos of his dad and All Might at the restaurant in California and Izuku and All Might the day of the sludge villain attack. He hated to break up the set. It was kinda funny. His dad looked so professional and put together in his while Izuku was drenched in slime and frazzled in his own.

He didn’t realize Aizawa had walked up behind him until he asked, “When was this?”

Izuku turned to look at his teacher and followed his gaze back to the picture. “Oh, that was about a year ago. All Might saved me from a sludge villain earlier the same day it went after Katsuki. You probably heard about that second attack on the news.” At Aizawa’s raised eyebrow Izuku shrugged. “No one was around for mine.”

“How close was it?” Aizawa asked, voice hard.

“If All Might had found me a minute later you and I probably never would have met.”

Aizawa swore and turned away to pace the living room, hand running through his hair.

Shoot. Izuku didn’t mean to distress his favorite teacher. “I-I’m fine Aizawa. The villain’s in Tartarus. I lived; Katsuki lived.” He didn’t think mentioning his bout of pneumonia would particularly help right now. “I’ve avoided that underpass since then. Maybe I’ll have an issue if there’s ever another villain with a slime or sludge quirk, but Ashido’s acid doesn’t freak me out. So, maybe not,” He said, cheerfully.

Aizawa shook his head and muttered “problem child” under his breath.

Well, he’d tried. After another moment’s deliberation, Izuku took his dad’s photo and left his. That way they could both laugh at each other’s memories. Plus, it was one of his favorite pictures of his dad. All Might had complimented the food right before the picture was taken, and his dad had absolutely beamed.

Izuku shook his head and looked toward the kitchen. “What’s the food situation at the dorm? Should I bring anything?”

Aizawa stared at the wall for a moment as he thought. “We haven’t had a chance to stock the kitchen yet, but we can have Lunch Rush whip you up a couple meals to last until someone can go grocery shopping.”

“I take it I’m not to go off campus without a staff escort?”

“Yeah. And if Kayama volunteers to take you, don’t listen to her. She’ll drag you clothes shopping, and you’ll be there for hours.”

Izuku stifled a laugh. He had a feeling Aizawa spoke from experience. “Ask Yamada; got it. I’ll pack what I can then. No sense letting this food go to waste.” He opened the fridge to see what they had. “Want some onigiri? Looks like we have leftovers.”

Aizawa shrugged and took a rice ball before sitting at the dining table, finally relaxing. Izuku ate another while packing some dry goods and half of the leftovers. He shouldn’t take all the food. Dad was going to be hungry by the time he got home from the police station.

Just when Izuku thought he had everything, Aizawa asked, “What about these?” He pointed to a small pile of boxes on a chair at the dining table that Izuku had missed. They were wrapped presents.

Izuku smiled, though sadness and something else tugged at his heart. “We were going to celebrate my birthday after I got home from the camp. Guess I’ll open them once I finish unpacking. I think that’s everything.”

The drive to UA wasn’t a long one, but there was morning traffic now. As they waited for their fifth stoplight to turn, Izuku asked, “Are the others the League targeted going to move in early too?”

“No, it’ll just be you and the teachers for the next few weeks.”

Izuku frowned. “Aren’t you worried they’ll be targeted again?”

“They’ll have police watching their homes, and if it comes down to it, they’ll fight back. Would you?” Aizawa asked evenly.

Izuku didn’t answer. He knew he wouldn’t—couldn’t—fight Tomura, Kurogiri, or Sensei. Not that they’d ever attack him in the first place. Sensei and Tomura both had the opportunity at Kamino, and they let him go. If any other person tried to abduct or jump him, yes, he’d fight, but not his second family. Izuku rubbed a hand over his face. “When did things get so messed up?” he asked no one in particular.

Aizawa didn’t answer. He did reach a hand over to ruffle Izuku’s hair though. And that reminded Izuku of the state his hair was in. He groaned and let his head fall back against the headrest. “I don’t suppose you know anyone who can make hair grow faster?”

Aizawa chuckled. “Sorry, kid. Maybe Kayama can help you think of a hairstyle fix that won’t look horrible.”

“Are beanies against dress code?”

Aizawa smirked. “Yes.”

Izuku halfheartedly glared at his teacher. “Can’t I just wear my costume’s helmet for the next month? That would solve everything.”

“I still can’t believe you can tolerate a helmet.”

“Mei’s helmet is actually pretty comfortable. Not sure how she did it. She’s been talking about making one for you too.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

They talked off and on the rest of the way to campus. Yamada met them at the dorm and helped them unload. Once all the perishables were tucked away, Aizawa left his overenthusiastic friend to give Izuku the tour. The dorms were really nice, but they were eerily empty once Yamada left to return to the teachers’ dorm (which was closer to a set of apartments with a common lounge according to Yamada).

Izuku had his room set up within a few hours. Then he sat eyeing his birthday presents on his desk. A quick text had his dad urging him to go ahead and open them. Izuku took a breath and got to work. His dad’s present was a Mirko figurine to match the Hawks one from last year. Those two had a team-up earlier in the year, and that had been fantastic to watch. Izuku couldn’t talk about anything else for a solid week. Izuku beamed and hurried to make space for it next to his Hawks and Best Jeanist ones.

He picked up that box to move it aside when he noticed it still had weight to it. He dug through the crumpled butcher paper that padded the inside and found a second bundle with a note taped to it. “Found someone who did custom work after already picking out Mirko, and I couldn’t resist.”

Curious, Izuku unwrapped the second piece to find an Eraserhead figurine with red eyes, floating hair, and his capture weapon flying around him. Looking closer, Izuku could even make out the scar under his teacher’s right eye. Okay, this one was officially his favorite. It got the place of honor on his top shelf in front of his All Might through the ages action figures.

He texted his dad a picture of his shelf along with a plethora of emoji hearts and smiles before moving on to Kurogiri’s and Sensei’s presents, only hesitating a moment before opening them. Whatever else they’d done, Izuku had little doubt that their care had been—was; they weren’t “gone” gone—genuine. Though it only made this whole thing harder to understand.

Kurogiri’s present held a certificate for a CPR and first aid course the mist man had prepaid for him along with his missing notebook. Sensei’s was a new camping knife and a small, old book. How did Sensei know he needed a new knife? Izuku let that question slip away as he read the barely legible title branded into the soft leather cover of the book. “Preservation and Preparation of Plant Based Toxins.”

Izuku stared for a moment, dumbfounded. On the one hand, yes, he was very curious; on the other this sounded rather dangerous and highly illegal. But also, where did Sensei get ahold of such a book—er, journal? As he thumbed through the brittle pages, Izuku realized the entire thing was handwritten and oddly reminiscent of Izuku’s own quirk analysis notebooks. It was certainly a memorable gift. He turned to the inside of the front cover to see if there was an author listed. Instead of a legible name, he found a folded sheet of paper. He set the book aside and unfolded the page. He didn’t recognize the handwriting, but the bottom was signed by Sensei.

“Izuku, I do apologize for leaving you with so many questions, but it was for the best that you and your father not know. As for Muscular, worry not about him. I assure you he will never leave Tartarus alive. Using andromeda to weaken him was a stroke of brilliance, though I would ask that next time you not drop yourself at death’s door in the process. I almost didn’t reach you in time to prevent permanent damage. Yours is a future I look forward to seeing—metaphorically, of course. My present might help you reach it in one piece, properly applied. Until then, Shigaraki”

Izuku read the letter a few times before carefully refolding it and returning it to the front cover of the book. After a minute of contemplating the journal, he moved to his bookcase to slot it into place beside his field guides. The knife he tucked under his bed for safekeeping. He wasn’t entirely sure if he was allowed it in the dorms. Maybe he’d ask Aizawa later.

Izuku eyed Tomura’s gift, wondering what revelations it potentially held. He ripped off the proverbial bandage and opened the box. And laughed. It was the newest DLC for Quest Conquerors…and a keychain? He picked up the small metal cylinder on a carabiner. There was a sticky note secured to it by a rubber band. “GPS locater in case of emergency. Twist to activate.”

Izuku quickly crumpled the note and wrapped it in the discarded wrapping paper, hoping no one else would see it. He stashed the device with his knife. Izuku wasn’t sure how to feel about it. He had so much to think and feel about today, and yesterday, and the camp. Then there were the still simmering feelings from the heroics practical. That device could just…sit under his bed until he was finished processing everything else. He’d deal with it, the book on toxins, and Sensei’s letter later.

The contents of that letter ran through his mind again along with a mental curse regarding his perfect memory. Izuku had an uneasy feeling that things had somehow played to Sensei’s advantage, that the heroes had missed something big. By all accounts, Kamino was a victory for All Might…except he’d come out injured and revealed to the world. Izuku recalled what happened after his injury at the USJ. Could All Might even use the embers of One for All now? Did Sensei plan for going to Tartarus? Did that place even have the means to hold someone like him? Why did All for One, Japan’s greatest villain adopt Tomura? Why did he care about a chef and a young hero in training?

A knock on his door brought him back to the present. Izuku opened his door to find Yamada standing there. “Hey, Midoriya, Cementoss is cooking over at his place. Want to join—” he trailed off, staring at something behind Izuku. “Is that…?”

Izuku frowned and followed his teacher’s eyes toward his shelves. Oh! He saw the Eraserhead figure. “That was one of my birthday presents. Dad had it custom made.”

Yamada made a high-pitched sound and sprinted over to the shelf to take a picture with his phone. “I have got to show this to Nemuri.” The smile didn’t leave his face as he walked back out of Izuku’s room. “Okay, okay. Let’s go eat, little listener. If we don’t hurry Snipe will take all of the dumplings.”

Chapter Text

That first night at the dorm was hard. The bed was unfamiliar and thoughts kept circling in Izuku’s head. The second day was better, aside from Aizawa turning up to discuss therapy sessions with Hound Dog. They weren’t optional, at least for now, and Izuku was too tired from a poor night’s rest to think up an argument. At least he got cleared to keep his camping knife on campus, as long as he didn’t take it anywhere near the main buildings.

After an introductory session with Hound Dog, Cementoss—Ishiyama Ken—took him grocery shopping. The school was covering basic cooking supplies and equipment, and Izuku picked up a couple things of his own too. Ishiyama was quiet but good company, even if he did draw a bit of attention.

Ishiyama nodded approvingly at Izuku’s purchases, though he did raise an eyebrow when Izuku snatched the kettle out of the shopping cart and swapped it for an electric tea maker. “Trust me on this one.” Ishiyama did draw a line at Izuku asking a store clerk where to look for a blowtorch though.

Izuku could always borrow one from the Development Studio later. Though Todoroki’s fire might work just as well for making katsudon the right way. He’d have to ask once everyone moved in. If Todoroki didn’t have enough fine control yet, they didn’t want to risk burning down the kitchen.

When they got back to campus, they had to contend with a swarm of reporters at the main gate. “What are they doing here? I thought UA wasn’t officially announcing the dorms until next week?” Aizawa and Yagi had spent most of yesterday driving around the city to talk to the parents of 1-A about the dorms, but Nezu hadn’t arranged a press conference or statement yet. Maybe someone leaked it.

Ishiyama shrugged and shouldered his way through the throng. Izuku followed in his wake, careful not to jostle the bag with the eggs. The reporters shouted a few questions at Ishiyama, but didn’t seem to notice Izuku, which was fine by him.

“Is it true that All Might is continuing to teach at UA, even after the school was targeted because of his presence here?”

“Is All Might really living on campus now? Won’t that put the students at more risk?”

“What precautions are you taking now that the Symbol of Peace can’t protect the students?”

Izuku swallowed down the anger he felt at their accusations. He could understand why Aizawa hated dealing with the press. He wondered how his friends intending to become daylight heroes would deal with all the attention.

Ishiyama stuck around the student dorm long enough for them to unpack and test the new appliances; then he headed back to the staff dorm. Izuku wrote in his notebook for a little bit, then decided to see if the Support building was open. He wanted to try something (not blowtorch related; that would come later).

He texted Aizawa and Maijima, grabbed his keys, and walked the short path to the main buildings. He waved at the security camera by the door and made it to the Development Studio. He let himself in and turned on all the lights. If he was stuck on campus by himself, he was going to make good use of his time. Yaoyorozu and Tomura had given him an idea. He booted up one of the lab’s computers and pulled up all the blueprints he could find on GPS devices and the blueprints for his own costume. He needed to make sure they were small enough to use with the existing launchers. Satisfied that he should be able to make what he wanted with the supplies in the lab, he set to turning on the necessary machinery to warm up. Then he fetched a textbook on integrated circuits for reference and started digging through the bin of miscellaneous computer chips.

One of his teachers found him at a lab bench several hours later, hunched over a chip with goggles shielding his eyes and a soldering tool in hand. The teacher waited until Izuku lifted the tool away from his project to clear their throat.

Izuku’s head shot up, goggled eyes landing on All Might. This was the first time he’d seen the hero since the Kamino fight, and Izuku winced at the number of bandages. The man’s right arm was still in a cast and sling, his left arm was wrapped all the way to his fingertips, and another bandage wound around the man’s head. Izuku was willing to bet there were more under his baggy clothes.

“A-all Might-sensei. Hi…” Izuku said, uncertain what the hero might think of him now. Possible reasons for the former Number One to seek him out spun through his head; none of them were particularly good.

All Mi—Yagi seemed just as unsure as he shuffled his feet before asking, “Do you have time to talk, Young Midoriya?”

Izuku checked his phone. It was nearly dinner time; when did that happen? “Sure. Let me turn everything off real quick.” He scurried between machines, shutting them down one by one and filing the pieces of his project away on his designated shelf next to the drone. Computer, lights, and lock taken care of, Izuku walked down the hall with Yagi. “Anywhere you have in mind?”

“Teacher’s lounge sound good?”

Izuku nodded, and the pair walked the rest of the way in uncomfortable silence. Once there, Yagi turned to face Izuku. He studied his student for a minute. “I—”

“I’m s-sorry, All Might!” Izuku cut in, anxiety spiking. He bowed his head, not daring to meet the hero’s eyes as his own clouded with tears. “I swear I-I didn’t tell him anything about your secret or Togata or One for All. I never told anyone. I u-understand if you don’t want me around you or Togata anymore, and I’ll keep my distance. I-I didn’t—”

A bandaged and bony hand gripped his shoulder. “Young Midoriya, breathe. I know. I know.” Yagi pulled Izuku into a hug. “I trust you.”

And there went the waterworks. After a moment Izuku gently hugged him back.

It was a few minutes before Yagi tried again. “I didn’t want to talk to you to accuse you, you know.”

Izuku sniffed and looked up at his teacher’s face.

He had a soft smile and what looked suspiciously like tears building in his dark eyes. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” Izuku said, wiping at his eyes. “I’m not the one who had to fight All for One.”

“And I’m not the one who almost died fighting Muscular, then found out their friends were actually villains,” Yagi countered.

Izuku frowned and let his head drop against Yagi’s chest. “Yeah…”

“And I should punish you for participating in that foolish rescue mission, but you managed to pull it off without anyone getting hurt. You didn’t even get a concussion this time.”

Izuku stifled a giggle. Yeah, he was becoming far too acquainted with head injuries.

Yagi squeezed him tighter before holding him out at arm’s length to meet his eyes. “And I’m proud of you. You’ve grown by leaps and bounds this semester, and I can’t wait to see the places you go.” Yagi pushed Izuku toward the lounge’s sofa while he turned on the tea maker.

The echo of Sensei’s letter jarred Izuku out of his happy haze, and he frowned as he fell onto the couch. What did they mean?

“Oh, and before I forget…”

Izuku looked Yagi’s way just in time to catch a wrapped…something. “What?”

Yagi gave one of his warm, genuine smiles. “After all the help you gave me picking out a present for Young Togata, don’t think you can get out of receiving a birthday present too. Go on; open it.”

Izuku blinked in surprise before looking back down at the lightweight package. Izuku carefully peeled back the tape and undid the wrapping. Inside were an envelope and a new notebook. A very nice quality notebook too, he noted, thumbing the pages. He opened the envelope and pulled out an identification badge with his name and the word “guest” underneath it. He shot Yagi a confused look.

Yagi grinned sheepishly while carrying two cups of tea over to the table by the sofa. “I was having trouble thinking of a gift for you, and Nezu pointed out my invitation to the Hero Billboard event was going to waste. And it’s no secret how much you love heroes and quirks. So, why not let you go and have a good night? Granted, it’s not for a few more months—”

“Wait, what? You’ve always gone to the Billboard Chart reveals,” Izuku said, still trying to get the rest of Yagi’s words to compute.

“Yes, well,” Yagi said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was always highly ranked. If I show up this time, I’d only upstage the heroes being commended, and I don’t want to do that.”

“So…you gave me your seat…”

“Yes.”

“At one of THE biggest events in the Japanese hero industry?”

“Yes.”

“Shouldn’t Togata go as your successor?”

“He has family visiting that day, and I could have gotten a second ticket if he was going. Being the former Number One does come with a few perks.” Yagi winked conspiratorial.

It took a few more seconds for the idea that he’d be in the same reception hall as most of the top 100 heroes in Japan to really sink in. Then a huge smile pulled at Izuku’s cheeks, and he surprised Yagi by (carefully) tackling him in a hug. “This is the best present ever! Thank you!”

Yagi laughed and ruffled Izuku’s hair. “You’re welcome, my boy.”

The two stayed in the lounge and talked about recent events and All for One’s history until Izuku’s stomach growled, reminding them that food existed and should be eaten at regular intervals. They traded phone numbers (again) and headed to their respective dorms. Izuku opted to eat alone this time. He didn’t want all his teachers to know he’d been crying. Plus, he had a lot to mull over.

So, he scarfed down the last of the leftover onigiri and booted his computer up. The best distraction he had when he didn’t want to deal with people was Quest Conqueror. He could level grind and check out the new DLC for a little while to decompress. He ignored the twinge of sadness/confusion/grief that came when he realized he no longer had anyone to play with.

The DLC downloaded quickly, and he logged in. Strange. There was a direct message waiting for him in-game. He opened his messages to see the new one was from Tomura. There were no words, only a string of numbers. A phone number.

---

Aizawa’s last few weeks had been beyond busy. Fielding questions from students and parents alike, most often regarding the dorms and quirk-specific accommodations. Shoji needed a larger bed, Koda wanted permission to bring his rabbit, Sero wanted to know if he could put up a hammock, Jiro wanted to install soundproofing in her room (actually that wasn’t a bad idea for Shoji’s room either), and Ashido, Asui, and Bakugo needed specific canceling agents in their laundry detergent to avoid something either melting, getting gummed up, or exploding. Several students had quirk-based dietary needs. No one had food allergies that he was aware of, but he’d check again once they were all settled in.

This was giving him a headache, and only one student had moved in so far. At least the only problem with Midoriya was arranging the security detail for his trips off campus, and there were a lot of those between his aikido class, CPR and first aid program, freerunning with Ms. Joke, and visits to his father.

Well, that was the only major problem. Several minor ones cropped up as Midoriya settled in. Aizawa had found him sprawled on the roofs of various buildings around campus at all times of day and night, though Midoriya hurried to assure him he wasn’t doing anything and did follow curfew after being informed there was one. Apparently, the kid liked the quiet and view when he started to feel overwhelmed. And if he wasn’t destressing in odd places, he was freerunning around campus, tinkering in the Support lab, or training incessantly. Aizawa was more familiar with that coping mechanism. The trouble with keeping too busy to think was that the stress never completely went away, and things always caught up at some point. And the kid denied that anything was wrong when questioned. Aizawa resigned himself to remaining vigilant and being there to help the kid pick up the pieces when that breakdown finally came.

The quirk analysis notebooks mentioned in the Kamino police report were a whole different kind of concerning. Dangerous mind indeed. Nezu fielded that nightmare with a talk about the power of information and the importance of safeguarding sensitive knowledge. Thankfully, Midoriya took to codes like Asui to water, and quickly set to rewriting his notebooks for safety’s sake. Aizawa was almost more worried by how well the principle and his student got along than the way Midoriya picked apart people’s quirks and weaknesses.

There was also that one time Aizawa walked into the student dorm and caught the problem child using a blowtorch on a pork cutlet. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Midoriya said that with a cheerful grin, “Well, I can’t breathe fire like my dad; this is the next best way to do it.”

After taking a moment to process that, Aizawa shook his head and settled at a table to supervise. Tasting the results, Aizawa grudgingly had to agree. He still wasn’t sure what to do about it. The kid had been careful, but a blowtorch? Really? This was why Aizawa didn’t teach any of the Support classes.

Aizawa sighed as he watched the rest of 1-A begin to arrive with their luggage. These kids were going to be the death of him. They were also one of his favorite classes in years, but that was beside the point. Once everyone had arrived Aizawa cleared his throat to gain their attention. “Class 1-A, I’m glad to see you all here.”

“We’re glad to see you here too, Aizawa-sensei,” Asui said. Then she looked around. “But…aren’t we missing Midoriya?”

Bakugo tisked. “That traitor? Probably got expelled. Good riddance.”

The majority of 1-A jumped on Bakugo for that. Aizawa glowered at the class and activated Erasure. “Enough!” Once everyone quieted down, he dropped his quirk and continued, “Midoriya is neither a traitor nor expelled. It’s true that he was familiar with a few members of the League, but he was unaware of their alignment at the time. They took advantage of him to gain information, and Midoriya has beat himself up about that enough without any of you bringing it up again. Am I clear?”

A chorus of “Yes, sensei” met Aizawa, but he held Bakugo’s eyes until the blonde gritted his teeth and looked away. That was as good as Aizawa was likely to get right now.

“As for Midoriya, circumstances required him to move in early. He’s already been briefed on what I have to tell you before you head inside. The training camp was meant to earn you your provisional licenses, and that’s still the goal. Once you’ve all settled in, we’ll go over the new plan regarding that.”

Excited whispers raced through the class, and Aizawa allowed them a moment before calling them back to order. “Now listen up. Todoroki, Kirishima, and Shoji, when you headed out to rescue Bakugo and Tokoyami…I think you all understand the consequences of what you did.” He looked over the rest of the class, letting them stew for a few beats before sighing. “It’s been swept under the rug for now, but I assure you, if not for All Might’s retirement I would have expelled all of you except for Bakugo, Tokoyami, Jiro, and Hagakure. Based on your faces, even those of you who didn’t go were aware of the plan and failed to stop or report it.”

The guilty expressions were confirmation enough. “Your reasons aside, you betrayed our trust. If you follow procedure from this point onward and behave properly you might be able to regain it.” He turned away from the gloomy gathering. “That’s all for now. Let’s get inside and go over your living arrangements.”

Aizawa waited by the entrance while the class dragged their feet. Maybe he was a bit blunt, but they needed to realize that this couldn’t happen again. He raised an eyebrow when it was Bakugo of all people who brightened the mood—by causing Kaminari to short-circuit himself. He hid a grin in his capture weapon and stepped to one side of the front door, waiting as the laughing and giggling students filed past him.

As Todoroki walked by, Aizawa laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. After everyone else was inside, Aizawa pulled a folded sheet of paper from a pocket and handed it over.

Todoroki frowned and unfolded the paper. “What’s this?”

Aizawa met his student's eyes and said quietly, “A form to request the denial of visitation rights to specified individuals.”

Todoroki’s eyes flew up from the paper to meet Aizawa’s dark gaze. There was something in those heterochromic eyes, maybe a mix of apprehension and appreciation. Whatever it was, it quickly vanished behind the kid’s more usual and guarded expression. “What?”

Aizawa raised his head enough to let his student see his grim set of his mouth. “UA intends to protect its students, whether that be from villains or…” Aizawa left the rest unsaid.

Todoroki unconsciously crinkled the paper in his grip. “I don’t understand,” the boy said cautiously, eyebrows furrowing.

Aizawa wasn’t going to press him. He shrugged and turned to face the door. “Nezu and I have been conducting a few investigations off the books. If you ever want to take things further, or just want options, let me know. Oh, and the dorms are open over all holidays and breaks for those that wish to remain on campus.” That said, Aizawa pushed the front door open, leaving Todoroki outside.

After giving the shortest possible explanation of where rooms and amenities were located, Aizawa retreated to the teachers’ dorm and headed for the security room that was located where the showers were in the student dorms. With the teachers’ accommodations being fully functional apartments, Nezu had put the extra ground floor space to good use.

All the dorm buildings had cameras in the public areas, and Aizawa switched the monitors over to 1-A’s building as he sat down. Midoriya had been anxiously awaiting his classmates’ arrival all day, but he hadn’t been in the common area to meet them. Swapping through a few camera feeds confirmed Midoriya still hadn’t turned up.

There was a quiet knock at the open door. “Shota?”

Aizawa let his eyes fall closed as he relaxed back in his chair. Hizashi. “Yes?”

“Are you looking for someone?”

Aizawa hummed, glancing over his shoulder to see his friend. Bless him, he’d brought coffee. Aizawa gratefully took the mug as Hizashi stepped to stand beside the chair. “Midoriya. His classmates seem convinced I’ve done something horrible to him to make him miss their arrival.”

Hizashi laughed. “I saw the little listener maybe two hours ago. He was headed for one of the gyms with Togata. They probably lost track of time.”

Training again? Aizawa frowned. Problem child was going to overwork himself at this rate. He navigated the camera listing until he found the ones for the gyms. If Togata was with Midoriya, they most likely went to Gym Beta. That gym had walls specially reinforced to handle more destructive quirks, like the supposed mutation of Togata’s.

He opened the camera feed and found the pair. What he hadn’t expected was Yagi being with them or Togata and Midoriya being in UA gym uniforms. Midoriya’s was several sizes too big, almost as if the third year had loaned Midoriya one of his. Midoriya also wasn’t wearing shoes or socks. The reason for that became apparent when Togata grabbed Midoriya’s hand, and both students fell through the floor.

Hizashi clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle whatever quirk-boosted sound he was about to make, and Aizawa narrowed his eyes at the monitor as both students popped back into view halfway across the gym.

Chapter Text

Izuku gratefully sucked in air and rested his hands on his knees while Togata patted him on the back. “You get used to it.” How was getting used to the feeling of suffocating a good thing? Izuku shot Togata a disbelieving look, earning a laugh.

“I think that’s enough for one day, Young Togata, Young Midoriya,” Yagi said as he walked over, carrying Izuku’s shoes and socks in his left hand. His right was still in a sling and cast. “Togata can experiment with the new aspect of his quirk another time. Aizawa just texted me. It seems your classmates are looking for you.”

Izuku blinked, thinking for a moment. “Ah! I forgot the time! I gotta go!” Izuku dashed forward to grab his shoes, then bolted for the locker room. “Thanks for letting me help with your quirk training Togata-senpai!”

“Just call me Mirio!” Togata called after him before the gym door swung shut.

Izuku couldn’t believe he’d lost track of time. On move in day, no less. He hadn’t seen his friends since the camp or Kamino. He tried not to think about what they might think. All Might had forgiven him—or didn’t blame him to begin with—but he was having trouble believing that applied to everyone else he knew. He’d seen “friends” turn on him one too many times in grade and middle school. Just because he wasn’t quirkless anymore didn’t mean the fear of betrayal or abandonment went away. Especially when these classmates had a valid reason (as compared to the fabricated bull his tormentors tended to come up with).

Izuku changed out of Tog—Mirio’s spare uniform and stashed it in his locker for next time. Then he was racing across campus. He did make a point of stopping outside the exit to smile and wave at the camera Nezu had moved to a convenient tree this time. It had become an unspoken game of sorts. Inside cameras were fixed, but outside cameras moved the day after Izuku noticed them. Izuku had no idea what the score was, but it was fun.

He almost collided with Monoma as he skidded to a stop outside the Heights Alliance 1-A dorm. His friend grabbed his arm to help steady him. “Oh, thank god. I thought I was going to have to actually go inside to find you.”

“Monoma? What are you doing here?”

“Checking on you, of course. I haven’t heard from you since Kamino. You could have texted.” Was Monoma pouting?

Izuku scratched at the back of his head. “Yeah, s-sorry. I lost all my contacts when Muscular destroyed my phone, and I kinda forgot about the discords...” Honestly, he’d been avoiding people since a news outlets had gotten wind of one of the students knowing the villains. Thankfully, his name had been kept under wraps, but his classmates had to know by now. And well, no one could judge him or ask questions if he wasn’t online.

Monoma raised an eyebrow at him and gestured for Izuku to hand over his phone. He messed with it for far longer than entering 1 phone number justified. When he finally handed the device back, Izuku found himself added to a new discord, this one comprised of the students from 1-B. Izuku stared at the chat as several students proceeded to freak out about his appearance, and Monoma took his distraction to lean around Izuku to see the back of his head. “The scar’s doing nicely. Been seeing Recovery Girl for it?”

Izuku slapped a hand over the back of his head and blushed. “She checked it once, but whoever healed me did a pretty solid job. There wasn’t anything for her quirk to do. I just wish my hair would grow out faster.” The scar itself wasn’t going to regrow hair, but the rest of the shaved area was approaching a centimeter’s length. It wasn’t long enough to fully hide the mark yet. Kayama thought it would by the next round of finals, but that was months away. Izuku grimaced at the thought.

“Hey, it means you lived. Don’t worry about it too much. The effect on your hairstyle is regrettable though. We simply can’t be seen together in public with you looking this disheveled.”

Izuku snorted and removed his hand from his scalp to reach over and muss Monoma’s hair.

Monoma let out an undignified squawk and dodged away from Izuku. Izuku slipped his phone into his pocket and grinned as he pointed to the door. “Hey, want to come in? My room’s already set up.”

Monoma gave him a disgusted look for a moment before settling into something more contemplative. “I suppose scouting out the enemy’s territory might be wise…”

Well, it wasn’t a no. Izuku decided to take it and not wonder if his friend had figured out he was anxious. Izuku pulled the door open. “So, anything exciting happen after Kamino? I’ve been kinda out of the loop here on campus.”

Monoma shrugged, still trying to fix his hair. “Not much. Sekijro-sensei stopped by to talk about the dorms; the rest of the time was pretty boring.”

They walked into the dorm’s common room just in time to hear Kirishima yell from the kitchen, “Hey, anyone know why there’s a blowtorch in here?”

Izuku couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. “Sorry, Kirishima; that’s mine.”

“Midoriya!” Kirishima and several others yelled as they turned to face him. It looked like half the class had already finished with their rooms. Monoma not so subtly grabbed Izuku’s arm to keep him from backing out of the room.

“Deku! I was so worried about you!” Uraraka tackled him in a hug. She was a lot more solid than she looked.

“Haha, it’s good to see you all too.” He hugged Uraraka back, trying not to laugh at seeing Monoma fake gag off to the side.

Other classmates crowded around, hugging him or patting his shoulder. Izuku thought it was going pretty well until Katsuki exited the elevator. “Deku.”

“Katsuki.” Izuku had never seen that particular flavor of anger on his former friend, but he suspected it didn’t mean anything good. Then Izuku’s eyes landed on Katsuki’s right wrist. It was encircled by a perfect handprint of raised, red-pink scar tissue. Izuku was glad they’d been able to save his hand; the damage had looked pretty bad at Kamino. How far had Tomura been willing to go if he hadn’t been interrupted by the heroes?

The standoff ended when Bakugo broke eye contact and stalked over to the kitchen. The others watched in silence until Bakugo was out of sight. Then Kaminari whistled. “Wow, guess it’s a good thing you two aren’t on the same floor, huh?”

“Hehe, yeah…”

“Oh, ignore Bakugo. He’s in a mood,” Ashido said dismissively before hopping onto one of the sofas. “Now come over here and sit! Kiri told us about your hair, and I have some ideas.”

A few hours later he was still leaning against the couch between Ashido and Hagakure’s legs. They’d messed with his hair so much he dreaded looking in a mirror, but they had long since gotten distracted by the game Sero and Sato were playing on the console hooked to the tv. They weren’t so much trying out styles to cover the shaved area now as running their fingers through his hair and occasionally dragging fingernails along his scalp.

The last of his nerves had vanished an hour in, and if the girls’ head massage lasted much longer, he was likely to fall asleep right there. He might have briefly. Eventually, he gathered the willpower to free himself and go make some dinner.

Monoma had slipped out at some point, but Hitoshi joined Izuku in the kitchen and handed him ingredients as he asked for them. They worked in relative silence for a while before Hitoshi finally said, “I can see now why my quirk never bothered you.”

Izuku stopped stirring the pot on the stove to tilt his head at his friend.

Hitoshi shrugged. “Your best friend had a disintegration quirk. I guess you were already used to seeing past the whole ‘villainous quirk’ label.”

Izuku hid his uneasiness at the way Hitoshi used the past tense and cautiously grinned. “Yeah.”

Was he supposed to drop Tomura as his friend because of what he’d done? Izuku’d never been in the position to potentially have to end a friendship himself before. He didn’t agree with what Tomura (or Sensei or Kurogiri) had done, but he could understand some of it. Tomura was his only friend before the UA entrance exam, the only friend from when he was quirkless. After knowing Tomura for six years, he couldn’t imagine life entirely without his snarky and semi-destructive friend. And what if he didn’t want to throw that away? The number he’d memorized but hadn’t entered in his phone taunted him.

---

“Super moves?” Izuku looked sideways at Hitoshi. His friend looked just as uncertain as he felt. As the rest of the class dispersed, Izuku walked up to his teacher. “Aizawa-sensei? Do Hitoshi and I still need super moves if we’re going underground?”

Hitoshi joined him. “Yeah, seems kinda counterproductive to yell out what you’re about to do. Ruins the element of surprise.”

Aizawa gave the two one of his signature smiles. “And that is exactly why you’re going into the underground. You’re too smart to waste on daylight heroics.” Hitoshi shot Izuku a nervous glance before Aizawa motioned for them to follow him to a far corner of the gym. Pointing at Hitoshi, he said, “You’re going to keep working on your capture weapon technique, and you,” Now he was pointing at Izuku. “Are going to work on stealth. You’ve got a good head for strategy and analysis, but you’re too direct. You try to fight like a daylight hero. You’re not. Your greatest advantage is going to be in exploiting weaknesses and taking people down before they even know you’re there.”

Aizawa tossed Izuku a roll of capture tape. “Try to tag all of your classmates before the end of class without getting caught. When you manage to complete that, I’ll have another task for you.”

Izuku looked around the gym at the pillars and artificial mountain Cementoss put up. Then he looked higher. He had an idea. “Aizawa-sensei, do I have to stay inside the gym the whole time?”

Aizawa stared at him for a few seconds before smirking. “I never said you had to.”

Izuku smiled and bolted for the door. “I’ll be right back!” He raced toward the Development Studio and hoped Mei wasn’t going be too mad that he needed his helmet back early. She wanted to tinker with it today. Just because she’d been off campus most of summer break didn’t mean she hadn’t been creating. He’d seen her with a literal mountain of blueprints when he checked in over lunch.

“Izuku!” Mei called excitedly when he entered the lab. “I knew you missed me, but I didn’t expect you to skip heroics to visit. I have so many ideas to go over with you, and I saw your little trackers! They’re not bad for a first attempt, but I left you some notes on how to better insulate them. I also hooked their signal into your helmet so you—”

“Mei, Mei, stop.” Izuku laughed. “I promise I’ll stop by after class, but I’m on a stealth mission right now.”

Mei lifted her goggles, and Izuku saw the slight rotation of her irises that meant she had “zoomed” in on him. She tended to use her quirk subconsciously when something caught her interest. “What’s the objective?”

Izuku held up the roll of tape. “Tag everyone in class. Think I might try the teachers afterward for fun.”

Mei cackled. “Oh, I have to pull the footage of your class after this. I’m guessing you’re here for your helmet?”

Izuku nodded. “Did you get the infrared setting installed?”

“Yes, and the photochromic feature is finished. The rest aren’t ready for a field test yet.”

“Perfect!” Izuku snatched his helmet off the workbench and slipped it over his head, grinning at the comfortable fit and faint scent of singed metal.

Ten minutes later the gym’s lights all went out at once, plunging the class into pitch darkness. Todoroki, Aoyama, and Bakugo lit up their immediate surroundings with their quirks. Kaminari was a bit too brain-fried at the moment to manage the same. Yaoyorozu made a flashlight. For the most part, the class sat tight while one of the Ectoplasm clones went to investigate.

Izuku got Todoroki first, lightly looping a strand around his classmate’s right ankle. Todoroki didn’t notice until after Izuku was already backing away. When the particolored boy would have said something, Izuku held a finger up in front of his visor, then pointed at Aoyama. Todoroki hesitated, before nodding.

Izuku snuck up on Aoyama and slipped a loop around Aoyama’s wrist when he was between laser bursts. The Frenchman didn’t glance at the tape as Izuku moved away. Katsuki, Tokoyami, Shoji, and Jiro were going to be the real problems here. He decided to work his way up to them. Catching Todoroki unawares had been a fluke. He was just the closest to the entrance, and Izuku hadn’t been able to resist trying. He tagged five more of his classmates before the lights came back on.

Izuku grinned behind his visor as he switched off the infrared filter. If it took that long, it confirmed that Ectoplasm didn’t have a key to the fuse box. He likely had to wait for one of Nezu’s bots to unlock it for him. He’d keep that in mind for future exercises. Izuku just hoped Nezu wasn’t too mad at him for using his lockpicks to get into the fuse box himself.

Now for the tricky part. With the lights on, he had to be more careful. He wasn’t careful enough. As he floated up toward the rafters, Izuku wondered just how hard this was going to be. One glimpse of Aizawa’s smile was all the answer he needed: very.

After that, the class knew what he was up to, and Nezu hinted that he should refrain from plunging a whole facility into darkness for the sake of an exercise. Oh, and Aizawa clarified that he had to tag everyone within the same class period. Every day he failed was a reset. So, yeah, it was hard. Especially with Katsuki as twitchy as he was. Any time he got within 15 feet of the blonde Izuku was more likely than not to get blown off the fake mountainside. Twice he made it through all his classmates, only to get stonewalled by Katsuki until class ended.

On the fifth day of super move training, he finally managed to get everyone, but only because Katsuki was momentarily distracted saving All Might from a falling piece of debris. Izuku almost felt bad tagging him. But then he was running for his life and didn’t have time for things like regret.

He looped the gym twice before finally losing Katsuki, or maybe Kirishima took pity on Izuku and distracted the explosive teen. Izuku was beyond caring by that point. He stumbled back over to the clump of teachers by the entryway. Izuku pointed a finger at Aizawa and between panted breaths said, “That mission was cruel.”

Cementoss laughed quietly next to the underground hero, and All Might his a chuckle behind a completely fake cough. Aizawa seemed mildly amused. “Good job, problem child. Give me the capture tape, and take five. We’ll spar after.”

Izuku’s eyes shot wide as he very carefully didn’t look away from Aizawa’s face. “Uh…I think I dropped it while running from Katsuki.”

Aizawa rolled his eyes and waved him off. Five minutes later, they found an open space for their promised spar. Several of Izuku’s nearby classmates paused their own practice when they realized what was happening.

“Ooh! Mido’s going to fight sensei,” Ahsido said, bouncing in place.

Izuku tensed for a moment as he registered the new nickname. It was so weird having nicknames that were nice. He was still getting used to the concept. Not only did he have Deku with its new meaning, but Hitoshi’s Zuku and now Ashido’s Mido. Knowing Ashido, the rest of the Bakusquad was going to be using the name within a week. He suppressed a smile as he raised his jo staff and slipped into a ready stance.

Aizawa nodded at him and did the same. Izuku made the first move by letting go of his jo staff with his left hand to fire a taser disc at Aizawa. Aizawa sidestepped and tugged on his capture weapon. He pulled up short when he found it thoroughly entangled with the missing roll of capture tape. Only then did Izuku’s classmates notice that same tape on Cementoss, the real Ectoplasm, and All Might. The teens lost it.

Izuku tasted concrete shortly after, but he couldn’t stop smiling. It tasted like victory.

Chapter Text

Izuku should have turned right around and gone back to his room when he entered the common area to hear some of his classmates discussing the League, but he was hungry and weak. The leftover soba in the fridge called to him. So, he tried his best not to listen as he prepared his food.

At first, it wasn’t so bad. Then Katsuki joined the cluster of students at the sofas.

“Yo, Bakugo!” Kirishima called. “We were just talking about the villains. Personally, I think the one with the freaky teeth was the most dangerous. Moonfish, was it?”

“Yeah, that creep was on Death Row for a reason,” Hagakure said, shuddering.

Izuku tried to not make it too obvious that he was listening in. None of them seemed surprised by the microwave going off. So, they all knew he was here. He thought it was odd no one brought up Muscular during their debate, but he decided against interjecting. They were probably trying to be considerate. Without thinking, Izuku raised a hand to trace the scar on his skull.

“What about that Toga girl?” Asui asked. “Ochako and I ran into her briefly, and she was scary.”

Katsuki bristled and whipped his head around to pin Asui under his gaze. He asked with uncommon seriousness, “Did she take blood from either of you?”

“What? Ribbit.”

Katsuki growled. “It has something to do with her quirk. She got mine and Birdbrain’s while we were at their base.”

“I think she got Ochako’s. Not mine though.”

Kirishima looked between the two, frowning. “She tried to stab me with one of those big needles at the camp too, but it broke on my hardened skin. Not sure if she got Kaminari or Shinso before we chased her off…and Vlad King’s quirk literally throws his blood around. We should probably tell Aizawa. Once they figure out what her quirk is it might be important.”

Katsuki grumbled his agreement. “Next time I see her or Hand Freak, I’ll blow them to pieces.” A few small pops sounded from his quirk, though he flinched when one went off in his right hand.

“Dude, your brace doesn’t do you any good if you don’t wear it,” Kaminari chided.

“I know that, shitty Pikachu! Can’t believe I let that wrinkly bastard get me. He’s almost as ugly as their fuckface leader.”

A few of the others laughed. Izuku put his bowl in the sink with a little too much force. The clatter broke up the laughter, and Izuku felt several sets of eyes on him. He carefully ignored them as he started the water and reached for the soap.

Kaminari the ever oblivious steamrolled ahead, “Think they’re related? Cause those two? Faces I’m not sure even a mother would love.”

“I mean, the look works with them being villains and all; it screams scary,” Sero added.

Izuku decided to just leave his dishes before he broke something. He wanted to tell them to shut up, tell them Tomura’s skin was a side effect of his quirk, tell them it was discrimination like that that probably pushed him toward villainy, tell them about Shigaraki adopting Tomura—likely because his family abandoned him when his quirk manifested. But Izuku couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He wanted to defend his…what even were Tomura and Sensei to him now? They weren’t all evil; he knew that. But how could he defend them to his class after what they’d done?

Izuku swallowed and wiped at a traitorous tear. He kept his head turned away from the sofas as he fast-walked for the stairs. He needed to get out of here, to move, do something. The farther away from campus and classmates, the better. With that thought in mind, he texted Ms. Joke then changed into clothes he wouldn’t mind staining or tearing and put his beanie on while waiting for a reply.

Izuku usually went to Ms. Joke’s weekend freerunning, but he knew she sometimes had sessions during the week too, especially on breaks. And Ketsubutsu wasn’t starting up until next week. Whether it was luck or some sixth sense on Ms. Joke’s part, Izuku wasn’t disappointed. She had a group heading out in two hours.

Aizawa escorted Izuku to Joke’s agency this time, disappearing as soon as his student was safely inside. Izuku wasn’t sure why Aizawa tried so hard to avoid Ms. Joke, but he wasn’t complaining about losing his tail. He was plenty safe in an underground hero agency.

“Hey, Deku!” Sleeper called from the kitchenette.

Izuku smiled and walked over to join the hero. “Hi, Sleeper. Have you seen Ms. Joke? I’m supposed to meet her here to go freerunning.”

“She should be back any minute. Had a teacher meeting earlier,” Sleeper said, waving a hand dismissively. “How are you? Been hearing a lot through the grapevine involving a mixup with some serious characters.”

“Y-yeah…” Izuku said, rubbing at the scar under his black beanie. “Turns out some of my family’s friends are villains. The teachers aren’t letting me leave campus without a hero escort.”

Sleeper hummed and handed Izuku a danish from a box on the counter. “So that was Eraserhead I saw when you entered. He still an insomniac?” Sleeper flexed the fingers on the hand not holding his coffee mug.

Izuku had the sudden revelation that it might not have just been Ms. Joke that Aizawa was avoiding. “Um…”

“Sleeper! Why didn’t you tell me Deku was here?”

Saved by Snitch. Oh, wait, Izuku needed to apologize to her. “Snitch! I’m so sorry I broke your grapple gun.”

Snitch crossed her arms. “Did you break it or a villain?”

“Er…well, it was All Might playing a villain?” he said with a shrug.

The two stared at him for a moment. Sleeper snapped out of it first. “Okay, you can’t just say that and not tell us the whole story. Come on, we’ll hang out in Snitch’s lair until Joke shows up.”

So, Izuku told them about failing his heroics final, about the summer camp, about Kamino and after. He was surprised he didn’t tear up during the telling. If anything, he felt a bit…detached, like he was giving a report of something that happened to a different person. He decided not to worry about that. Emotions would come later; they always did.

Sleeper and Snitch listened attentively, only interrupting to make sure he was okay after describing his injuries at the camp. He even pulled off his beanie to show them his scar and mentioned his theory that Sensei had healed him. Was it weird that he felt more at ease here than with his friends at the dorm?

Correction: he was at ease until Ms. Joke dropped from the ceiling to land right behind him. Was she trying to give him a heart attack?

“Haha! Oh, you should see your face, kid. Don’t think I’ve seen someone jump that high since I accidentally discovered Hizashi’s fear of bugs.” She grinned and motioned for Izuku to follow her toward the stairs. “Come on. We need to get going if we’re meeting the others.”

“R-right.” He waved at the other two and jogged after her.

“See ya, Deku!” Snitch called after him. “I’ll send Mei some info to help with those trackers you mentioned.”

Izuku called back his thanks and followed Ms. Joke up the stairs toward the roof. “So, you heard all of that?”

“Mhm. Sounds like you’ve had quite the summer.”

“Y-yeah.”

In a softer voice, she asked, “You doing okay?”

Izuku thought to lie for a moment but let out the breath in a sigh. “No, not really.”

“That why you messaged me out of the blue?”

Izuku winced. Was he that easy to read? He’d have to work on that if he was going underground. “Yeah. I…just needed to get away from campus, away from everyone involved, for a little while.”

He followed Ms. Joke out onto the roof. Without prompting, they both broke into a sprint and leaped the gap to the next building over. Izuku tugged his beanie a little lower on his head to avoid it being blown off. He smiled at the expanse of rooftops before them. “It was this or the Development Studio, and Maijima’s been threatening to change the locks if he catches me in there after hours again.”

Ms. Joke laughed. “I’m sure the sunlight and the company this option provides don’t hurt.”

Izuku’s grin turned mischievous. “Sunlight sure, but some of Mei’s inventions are characters. Never a dull moment with them around and threatening to blow up at the least insult.”

Ms. Joke laughed again, and Izuku wondered if this was why Joke always…well, told jokes. Even though he still didn’t feel great, making her laugh made his grin just a bit wider and his heart a little lighter.

Ms. Joke didn’t miss a beat or sound out of breath as she said, “Well, for what it’s worth, Deku, you’ve done well. You’ve been put in a lot of difficult positions, but near as I can tell, you got things done. You did take down All Might; at the camp, you enabled a classmate to take down a serial killer while protecting the civilian; and you got the hostage out without direct conflict. Sure, you did a few things wrong, but you’re a first year. You’re at UA to learn. Most first years would have frozen up completely or panicked in those situations. You didn’t.” Even though Izuku was behind her and couldn’t see it, he could hear the smile in her voice when she added, “I can see why so many people have an eye on you.”

She paused on the edge of a building, and Izuku nearly tripped stopping in time to stand beside her. She made eye contact before saying, “At the same time, remember that’s in the future. You’ve got to take care of you in the now to get to that future. If you ever need to take a break or a step back to breathe, do it. You’ve got time.”

Izuku offered her a weak smile and nodded. They settled into companionable silence as they raced the rest of the way to the meeting point, the roof of a ramen shop Ms. Joke was particularly fond of. There were only two of her students waiting there today, a much lower number than on the weekends. Izuku landed on the roof in a roll before popping to his feet to wave. “Hey, Shindo, Nakagame.”

“Midoriya, Ms. Joke,” The duo greeted.

“Alright, let’s get this comedy show on the road!” Ms. Joke said with a clap.

The students fell into step behind the hero, following her over alleys, air conditioning units, and occasionally across billboards. It was a good workout and just fast-paced enough that Izuku had to concentrate on his footing and not everything else in his life.

They stopped at their halfway point, a park playground, to rest a few minutes and drink from the fountain there. Izuku pulled his beanie off as he dropped onto a bench and shook out his sweat-soaked hair. It was too hot to wear the thing today, he decided. He’d just have to deal with the looks. Not like he didn’t already get enough of those with his arm and the Sports Festival…and the camp news coverage. And he was thinking about it again. He really needed to stop doing that.

Nakagame flopped onto the bench next to Izuku, startling him out of his thoughts. “Hey, small fry. Doing alright? We can ask Teach to go easy on the way back if you want.” Nakagame was the friendliest of Ms. Joke’s second year students (of those Izuku had met), and she’d been quick to pick up on Izuku’s decreased stamina after his most recent hospital stay. The few times he’d started to lag behind the sharp-toothed blonde had stuck with him.

“I’m okay, Nakagame. Just overheated. Think I’ll leave the beanie off for now.”

A splash of cool water dropped over Izuku’s head and he jerked around to see Shindo standing there, water still dripping from his fingers. “That should help cool you off.”

“Thanks, Shindo,” Izuku said sarcastically. He rolled his eyes at the second year’s antics. The guy didn’t like to admit he cared and tended to pull pranks, but they were rarely mean-spirited. The water did feel good. He got up from the bench to get another drink before sticking his head under the stream of water.

A poke in the side alerted him to Ms. Joke standing next to him. “Deku, the fountain’s for drinking, not washing your hair,” she teased.

Izuku knew it was a tease, but he still flushed. Ms. Joke shook her head and handed him a bright green piece of cloth. “That’ll keep the hair out of your eyes on the way back, and if you soak it before you put it on, it helps with the heat.”

Izuku unfolded the material before realizing it was a bandana. “Oh! Thank you. This will be a lot cooler than the beanie.”

“Don’t sweat it, kid.”

Izuku narrowed his eyes at her and tried not to laugh. He succeeded for five seconds. Once he had his breathing back under control, he wetted and tied the bandana over his head, careful not to get it too tight. Ms. Joke double-checked his knotwork, and they headed out for the second leg of their run, this time at ground level. The way back took them over every possible bench, trashcan, and piece of playground equipment in the park, cut through alleys narrow enough to jump between walls and over dumpsters, and avoided busy intersections until they ended up back at the ramen shop.

Usually, Izuku ate with them after their run, but a quick check of his phone nixed that plan. “Ah, I gotta go. Dad wants to eat dinner with me tonight before he has to head back to Tokyo.”

“Shota still running around, or do you need me to walk you back?” Ms. Joke asked.

Ugh, Aizawa had to tell her about that. Izuku fired off a few texts. He didn’t get a response from Aizawa, which probably meant he’d found a crime in progress to deal with or was taking a nap on a rooftop somewhere. After a few more minutes, Izuku’s dad texted back that he could meet him at the train station in Musutafu.

“My dad’ll meet me when I get off the train. So…”

“I’ll walk you to the station. Don’t worry about it.” She turned to the other two and said, “Get my usual. I’ll be back before the order’s up.”

Shindo threw her a thumbs up, and Izuku and Ms. Joke set off. Izuku shot Aizawa another text before putting his phone away.

Aizawa found them two streets away from the station, dropping into an alley as they passed. He took one look at them before glaring. “Absolutely not.”

Izuku wasn’t sure what he meant until Ms. Joke laughed and patted Izuku on the head. Oh, he still had the bandana on. He hurriedly tugged it off and tried to hand it back to Ms. Joke. “Nah, kid. For that,” she said, pointing at Aizawa. “You have to keep it. Give him a hard time for me?” she asked while ruffling his hair.

Aizawa grumbled and walked out of the alley. Izuku followed him and waved goodbye to Ms. Joke. He tucked the bandana into a pocket and pulled his beanie back out but didn’t put it on. He looked over his teacher as he shifted to walk beside him, noting a little blood on the capture scarf. “Who’d you catch?”

Aizawa glanced at him. “Small-time drug dealer. No one you need to worry about.”

Izuku shrugged and didn’t ask further questions. Whatever had happened seemed to have soured the man’s mood. Or he was just tired. Sometimes it was hard to tell.

The train ride back to Musutafu was quiet, and Izuku’s dad met them on the platform as they got off. They followed him back to a small apartment downtown. His dad had been staying here temporarily and already had everything packed again. He was moving back onto campus at the culinary school for the semester starting next week. Whenever he visited Musutafu in the future, he planned to stay at the guest room at the agency Kamui Woods and Mt. Lady were working out of. It was farther away, but it was safer. It wasn’t home though.

Izuku chewed on that thought as his dad cooked dinner, too preoccupied to notice his worried glances. He tried to pay attention while they ate and talked, but everything still felt off. Like something was missing. Or someone (maybe three someones). If asked later, Izuku couldn’t have told what they ate or what they talked about.

In his distractedness, Izuku missed Aizawa stepping outside and his dad sitting next to him. “Izuku?”

He blinked and looked up at his dad. “Huh?”

“What’s on your mind?”

Izuku frowned and thought for a minute. “Just thinking that this…” He gestured around the bare apartment. “Doesn’t feel like home, not the way our old place did, or the way—” He cut himself off.

Dad sighed. “Yeah, the Shigarakis’ always felt like a home to me too, whether it was the mansion or that little apartment in Kamino. I think it’s more the people than the place honestly.”

Izuku looked wide-eyed at him. He hadn’t thought they were allowed to well, talk about that. Like that.

His dad smiled back at him, though there was something sad in his eyes. “You know, you don‘t have to agree with someone on everything to be their friend. Family definitely doesn’t agree on everything, but that doesn’t mean they stop caring.”

Izuku looked at a small hole in the wall instead of his dad. Maybe a picture of a normal family had hung there once. “I feel like I should be mad at them, but I’m not. I feel guilty for not feeling mad, but thinking about hating them or hearing other people treat them like villains makes me feel guilty too. I’m more…hurt? That they kept such big secrets and that they left…”

“I know.” His dad hugged him, and Izuku leaned into that familiar warmth. A few minutes of quiet tears made him feel better than he had in weeks.

“Hey, dad?”

“Hm?”

“Can we go by the beach before I head back to UA?” Izuku had told his dad a few times about Tomura and him training there and clearing out the garbage.

“Sure.”

A fifteen-minute walk later found father, son, and disgruntled teacher on the steps of Dagobah Beach. Izuku’s dad winked at him and started a conversation with Aizawa, allowing Izuku to wander down the stretch of sand. Large swaths of it were still stained rust-red by the dust left behind from Tomura’s quirk. It matched the sunset nicely.

A safe distance away from the adults, he took out his phone and turned his back to the sea to get a selfie with the fiery sunset behind him. Then he texted it to Tomura’s new number. He deleted the evidence of the message after it sent.

Chapter Text

Izuku tucked his helmet back inside the metal case. Before he could close and latch it, someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to find Mei and Maijima standing there. Mei had her hands behind her back.

“Okay, is whatever you have going to blow up?” he asked, amused as he pointed to Mei.

Mei gave him a wide smile. “I dunno. You tell me.” Then she pulled the object from behind her back. It was a new grapple gun. It looked exactly like the one Ms. Joke and Snitch had given him, but recolored to match the green of his costume.

Izuku crushed Mei in a hug. He was not crying over a grapple gun; he really wasn’t. “Thank you! You have no idea how much this means…”

Mei shoved him off, grin a bit softer. “Of course, I do, Izuku! I hate seeing someone smash one of my babies too. And this 2.0 should be nigh indestructible.”

Izuku gave a choked laugh, carefully setting the new grapple gun in the case with his costume.

Metal-tipped fingers gently ruffled his hair, and Maijima said, “Save those tears for when you get your license, Midoriya. You’d better get going; don’t want to keep Aizawa waiting.”

Izuku sniffed. “Right.” he scooped up his costume case and jogged from the lab. Today was the day of the provisional hero license exam. Maybe Izuku still didn’t feel quite like his old self, and his world still felt off kilter. But he had plenty of people believing in him, and he had his own dream on the line. He was determined to do his best.

Izuku lost himself in the excited chatter of his classmates on the way to the testing center. The center was bigger than he expected, but they were running practical exercises here. It made sense they’d have a building the size of the USJ. As long as things went better than that adventure…

Aizawa gave some pep talk that Izuku mostly ignored. He’d talked to Aizawa enough over the last few weeks. He knew his teacher believed in them.

He was more concerned with the growing feeling that he was being watched. Whether the attention was on their group in general or on him specifically, he wasn’t certain, but he didn’t like it. He shuffled over to Hitoshi and leaned his back against him, making it harder for passersby to see the back of his head. He had been sorely tempted to let Kayama or Ashido shave his hair off even with the back of his head last night, but ultimately decided against it. He just wished he was allowed to wear something on his head while in UA’s uniform. He couldn’t wait to change into his hero suit.

With his anxiety simmering, Izuku nearly jumped out of his skin when a student who definitely wasn’t UA joined the rallying cry of “Plus Ultra!” That guy had some serious lungs on him too. And height and muscle. Oh boy. Even Aizawa acknowledged him as the real deal. Izuku hoped he never had to fight Yoarashi Inasa.

A much more welcome distraction found them after the strangely energetic Shiketsu student left. Well, welcome to Izuku, at least. “Eraser! Long time no see!”

Aizawa went rigid, and Izuku couldn’t help his smile. “Ms. Joke!”

“Hey, Deku. Eraser been treating you well?” Ms. Joke stopped next to Izuku, a group of her second year students trailing behind her.

Kirishima looked between the pro and Izuku in confusion. “You know her, Midoriya?”

Ms. Joke beamed. “Know him? Shota and I have joint custody. He gets Deku on weekdays, and I get him on weekends.”

Todoroki looked between Aizawa, Ms. Joke, and Izuku with narrowed eyes. Izuku realized with dawning horror that Todoroki’s eyes were lingering on each person’s hair: black, seafoam green, and dark green. Oh no. Izuku opened his mouth to do damage control but was too late. Todoroki pointed to the two teachers and asked dead serious, “Is Izuku your secret love child?”

Aizawa looked heavenward and sighed. Izuku buried his red face in his hands. Ms. Joke doubled over laughing. “Oh, I like this one! I’m claiming him too.”

“Joke,” Aizawa ground out, shooting her a glare. “You have your own students. I’ll thank you for not stealing mine.”

“It’s not stealing if we share. Marry me, Eraser!”

“No.”

The rest of 1-A looked progressively more and more confused. Izuku honestly wasn’t sure if Aizawa so stubbornly resisted Ms. Joke’s sense of humor on principle or just to wind her up more. Deciding that if they were going to embarrass him like this, they were fair game, Izuku said, “Mom, Dad, stop fighting.”

The teachers whipped around to face him, one looking delighted and the other affronted. Izuku, satisfied, walked over to where Shindo was busily assessing 1-A under the guise of a round of friendly greetings. Katsuki saw right through it, of course. Izuku pulled Shindo away before anything exploded. “Speaking of things you shouldn’t purposely try to set off…” Shindo snorted but let Izuku pull him back over to the Ketsubutsu group. “If we happen to fight, don’t use your quirk on my jo staff this time.”

Shindo quirked an eyebrow at Izuku and crossed his arms. Izuku scratched at the back of his head. “It’ll probably explode if you do. Mei’s still working on that. My costume’s armor is pretty shrapnel-proof, but the pictures of your costume that Nakagame showed me…” Izuku gestured at Shindo’s chest. The second year’s hero costume was remarkably similar to Kirishima’s in that there was barely anything protecting his torso. Izuku really couldn’t understand the choice, and he didn’t want his friend getting himself seriously hurt by Izuku’s own equipment.

Shindo rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I’ll be fine, twerp. Thanks for the heads up.” He roughly messed up Izuku’s hair. “No holding back in there, you hear?”

Izuku batted his hand away, pouting. “You know I won’t. The rest of my class aren’t pushovers either,” he warned, offering a fist.

Shindo grinned and bumped Izuku’s fist with his. “We’ll see about that.”

The teachers wrapped up their verbal sparring and called their students back to order. As they headed inside, Izuku noticed that he no longer felt like he was being watched. For some reason that made him feel more uneasy.

The first portion of the exam sounded simple enough, if extremely chaotic. They had to take out two contestants each without being taken out in turn. Of course, Shindo had to go Plus Ultra and break up the entire battlefield into jagged spikes and slabs of rubble. Izuku was very glad Ms. Joke had insisted on no super moves during his entrance exam.

Izuku took a moment to breathe, then shook out his wrists and tapped his boots together. 1-A was split up, Izuku was alone, and enemies were closing in. He needed to move, and his costume’s claws were more suited to maneuvering here than his grapple gun. He made it halfway up a slab of concrete when someone jumped him, tagging one of the markers on his costume before he could react. Two more and he was out.

“You should be more mindful of your surroundings,” the girl taunted, wagging a finger at him.

Izuku hauled himself on top of the slab he’d been climbing and faced her, uncertain whether he should retract his claws or not. Something about this girl put him on edge. Taking in her costume, he asked, “You’re from Shiketsu?”

The girl offered him a small nod. “And you’re from UA. I must say, this test is a wonderful opportunity to get to know other strong schools, and I really want to learn more about UA…and you. How’d you get that scar?”

Izuku flinched. He had his helmet and gauntlets on now. She must have seen his arm or the back of his head when the groups ran into each other outside. He was pretty sure his hair covered the one on his forehead. He reached for a ball, glancing away from her for a moment. “I’ve got a few. You’ll have to be more…” She was gone. “Specific?” Where did she go? Did she have an invisibility quirk? Speed? Illusion?

Izuku turned his head, scanning for her as he activated the infrared setting on his helmet with a quick series of blinks. Hatsume had fun programming that in. He caught a blur of orange to his left and lunged out of the way. Someone in the distance used a fire quirk, and Izuku’s field of vision vanished under a sea of yellow-orange. He rapidly blinked the deactivation sequence and shook spots from his eyes. “Note to self: don’t use infrared in an active battle zone with multiple unknown quirks.”

His vision cleared quickly, and he was back to searching for the Shiketsu girl. How did she keep disappearing? Something caught his ankle, yanking it from under him as something else applied pressure to his back. Izuku fell and tried to twist to deliver a kick to whoever had downed him. The girl matched him for speed, pinning one of his legs between hers and restricting movement of his arms before he could get a good angle on her. Guess the claws didn’t matter after all.

She leaned down over him to put her face next to his helmet. Izuku could just see her at the edge of his visor. “I meant this one,” she said, rapping on his helmet. “Though I wouldn’t mind hearing more.”

Izuku held his peace, acutely aware of the position she had him in. At least she couldn’t reach his last two markers. They were on the front of his costume. “How?”

“My disappearing act? Ooh, how about we swap info? That wasn’t my quirk; it’s all technique. I stop breathing and thinking and just…blend in. Nothing to see here.”

Izuku almost forgot to be nervous for a moment. “What? That’s a thing they teach you at Shiketsu?”

She shrugged. “It’s not so hard to learn if you don’t think of it as training. Now, your turn.”

“Muscular bashed my head on a tree. Not fun. Wouldn’t recommend.” Izuku tried to move, to get any leverage, but the girl shifted to maintain her pin. “Can you get off me? We’re kinda in the middle of an exam.”

A playful grin found its way onto the girl’s face. “Now why would I do that? We’re just getting to the good part. I want to know all about you.”

That odd feeling of danger about the girl grew in intensity. Then the ground rumbled. “Move!” Izuku yelled, trying to buck her off.

Surprisingly, she complied. And just in time. The ground exploded under a barrage of attacks the second they were clear. Ketsubutsu and some of the other contestants had found them. “Aw, bummer,” the Shiketsu girl said before vanishing again. This time while Izuku was watching her out of the corner of his eye. How was that not a quirk?!

Izuku forced back the urge to analyze and focused on dodging all the incoming attacks. Of course, they were all ranged fighters. Why wouldn’t they be? He stayed one step ahead of the onslaught and tried to retreat. Then he saw Uraraka being attacked a short distance away. And the ledge she stood on crumbled.

He moved before his friend’s odd behavior finished registering. He caught her midair and shielded her as he rolled on landing. He darted away with his passenger as soon as he had his feet back under him. Uraraka wouldn’t have fallen; she’d have used her quirk to negate her own gravity. This wasn’t his classmate, but what sort of hero was he if he let them get hurt?

One of the quirked attacks that hit behind them kicked up a cloud of dust. Izuku took the opportunity to duck behind cover and set not-Uraraka down. She sank to the ground. “Thanks for the save. Sorry for being so clumsy…”

“No problem.” He peaked around the edge of their hiding spot, looking for a way to safety. As suspected, when Izuku turned his back to her, she produced a ball to try tagging him. He swatted the ball out of reach. “You wouldn’t happen to be from Shiketsu, would you?”

“You knew…and saved me anyway?”

“Yes? You’d have been seriously injured.” That was kinda the whole point of training to be a hero. Protecting and saving people. Why did she act like it was a foreign concept?

Izuku stiffened as not-Uraraka started…melting. That was going to be nightmare fuel right there. Globs of flesh-colored goop fell off the girl, and Uraraka’s warm brown eyes shifted to piercing yellow with slitted pupils. Her lips parted in a manic smile that showed off abnormally long canines.

“That’s your reason? You’ll save anyone, no exceptions? Now I’m even more curious why the boss likes you so much.” Her eyes and skin started shifting again, returning to the form and costume of the Shiketsu girl he fought before. She lunged at him at the same time Izuku’s brain realized she hadn’t had any clothes a moment before. “Let me get to know you better.”

Izuku lurched backwards, not quite avoiding the girl’s manicured nails. He felt something wet on his cheek and saw blood on her nails. “What do you mean ‘boss?’” he asked, retracting the claws on his boots. He aimed his left taser launcher and fired in a single movement. He rushed toward her before the disc connected.

The girl dodged the flying disc only to get hit by a second one Izuku fired from his right gauntlet. She shrieked and doubled over as electricity danced over her. She started melting again. That wasn’t her real form then? Izuku was so confused.

The charge ran its course and Izuku stood warily with his jo staff in hand. She was naked again and back in her yellow-eyed form. He guessed that was her true self. “Who are you?” he asked. A student would have ensured their targets stayed on. This girl was likely to be disqualified with hers having melted off between forms. And if she wasn’t a student…

The girl smiled at him. “My name’s Toga Himiko, but you can call me Himiko, Izukun.”

Izuku hadn’t thought it possible to hate being given nicknames more than when he was in middle school, but he found himself proved wrong. Something about Toga’s tone made him want to put a few kilometers between them. She seemed to notice and winked at him. “This was fun, but don’t worry. Tomura would be mad if I actually hurt you. Maybe we’ll get to play again sometime. Say hi to Kacchan for me?” She waved her fingers at him. Then she vanished again.

Izuku stared blankly at where the girl had been. Tomura. She knew Tomura. Toga Himiko…his classmates had run into a Toga at the camp. She was with the League. The League had infiltrated the licensing exam. But why?

She was a shapeshifter.

Izuku reached a shaky hand up to his helmet and pressed a button to enable voice commands. “Call Aizawa.”

He moved as he listened to the call connect and start ringing. She could still be around here, and she could be anyone. Izuku nearly jumped out of his skin when Aizawa finally picked up. “Midoriya, there had better be a good reason for this. Phones are forbidden in the exam.”

“I-it’s a feature in my helmet, Aizawa-sensei, but that’s not important. What is is Toga Himiko being here.”

“You’re sure.” It wasn’t a question.

“She can shapeshift. She was disguised as that girl from Shiketsu; she turned into Uraraka too. She dropped the morph when I hit her with a taser. S-she also does this weird thing where she vanishes. I don’t know where she went. She mentioned Katsuki; he might be—”

Aizawa interrupted him, keeping his voice steady, “Midoriya, calm down. Bakugo already finished. He’s in the anteroom. Find some of your classmates and stick with them. Focus on passing. I’m going to talk to Mera.”

“O-okay. Good.” Aizawa hung up on him. Izuku took another shaky breath and headed toward where he could see a few streamers of tape flying through the air. That had to be Sero. Izuku just hoped he was the real one.

He was, and he had the real Uraraka with him. Together the three of them created a trap with Sero and Uraraka’s quirks to net them enough participants to pass…literally. Izuku was still a bundle of nerves as they headed for the anteroom. He kept looking around, half-expecting Toga to turn up. He finally let himself relax once he and his friends were in the anteroom along with half of their class.

Uraraka and Sero walked over to Kaminari and Kirishima shouting excitedly about their success. Izuku scanned the room, noting the two hallways that provided entry to the room in addition to the door to the arena. The girl from Shiketsu wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

Izuku let out a long breath when he spotted Katsuki leaning against the back wall. He was walking toward the blonde before he could think better of it. “Hey, Katsuki.”

Katsuki snarled at him. “Deku. So, you passed.”

“Ah, yes…I did.” Izuku tried to scratch at the back of his head, stopping when his fingers hit his helmet. He took his helmet off instead. “Um, I wanted to let you know to be careful. Toga’s here. Aizawa’s trying to track her down right now.”

Katsuki’s eyes widened ever so slightly before they narrowed. His lips curled in a sneer. “I’d like to see her try something when I’m not tied up.” He curled his fingers in that familiar, threatening stance he used for so many of his explosions but stopped himself before creating any. Pushing off the wall, Katsuki shoved his hands in his pockets and said, “Warn Birdbrain when he catches up. I can take care of myself.”

He walked off toward the righthand hallway, and Izuku let him go. Katsuki probably needed to let off a bit of steam. Trying to keep his mind off of Toga, Izuku walked over to Yaoyorozu’s group to ask them about their victory. He hadn’t taken three steps when he saw Katsuki walking out of the far hallway, right bracer tucked under an arm and massaging his wrist. With a sinking feeling, Izuku turned to look down the hallway behind him. It was empty.

---

Deku was freaking out, and no one could figure out why. Thankfully, Troll Doll walked in from the arena a five minutes after the fit started. He’d taken one look and sprinted over. He crouched in front of where Deku huddled against the wall. “Zuku! Hey, I need you to talk to me. I can help, but you have to let me.”

Deku stuttered out something, but it was enough for Shinso to get his hooks in. Deku froze before his body relaxed as his eyes glazed over. Shinso started ordering him through breathing exercises, and Katsuki turned to glare at all the extras that were crowding around. “Beat it! What kind of heroes gawk at someone having a panic attack? Go be useless somewhere else.” He chased off the more stubborn ones with a few additional curses, but most of them got the picture quick.

A few minutes later Yaoyorozu came running down the hall with Aizawa. “What happened?” The teacher asked, eyeing his students. His gaze lingered on Katsuki and Uraraka longer than the others, and Katsuki narrowed his eyes. What was that about?

“Not sure,” Shinso said. “He was panicking when I got here, but he was coherent enough to let me activate my quirk. He’s not fighting it, but he’s not calming down real fast either.”

Aizawa joined Shinso in crouching in front of Deku before telling Shinso to free him. Deku started trembling like a fucking chihuahua again, but he wasn’t hyperventilating anymore. Katsuki turned to walk away, but stopped when Aizawa asked, “Midoriya, did you see Toga again?”

Ice washed through Katsuki’s veins when he heard Deku stutter out, “Y-yes. She w-was Kacchan this time. S-she left after I warned her that you were looking for her. I didn’t realize until Katsuki walked out of the other hallway a m-minute later. She acted j-just like…I didn’t…” Deku buried his face in his knees and shook his head.

Katsuki stood frozen as Aizawa used his quirk to confirm that yes, he was the real Katsuki. Then he asked a few of the others questions. Apparently, Dunce Face and Shitty Hair had talked to the fake too, not realizing she wasn’t the real deal. Asui was the only one who remembered seeing the Shiketsu bitch enter from the arena before all that happened.

“Are you fucking serious?” Katsuki roared. “I was gone for ten minutes, and you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary?” Katsuki knew he should have kept his pain meds on him instead of leaving them in his locker. Toga couldn’t have gotten away with wearing his face if he were still in the room. It hurt a little that his friends had been taken in by her act. Not that he’d ever admit it.

“Bakubro, we’re sorry!” Kirishima said, looking genuinely upset. That was the only reason Katsuki wasn’t blowing someone up this second. “She seriously had you down pat. Even the swears and nicknames. How did she even know those?”

“She’s likely a master of observation and acting. It would pair well with her quirk,” Aizawa stated. “Security’s looking for her now. Everyone stay put.”

Predictably, security turned up nothing. The cameras at least confirmed that she left the premise, disguised once again as the Shiketsu girl. The second half of the exam was delayed while the adults chased their tails and tried to figure out what she’d been after.

The sitting and waiting made Katsuki antsy. He wanted to get this over with and go back to UA where he could train and blow things up to get rid of the energy pent up in his chest. It was starting to feel suffocating, and the rest of his class wasn’t helping. 1-A as a whole decided Uraraka, Tokoyami, Katsuki, and Deku needed protecting and refused to let any of them out of sight. How Shoji got out of the treatment Katsuki wasn’t certain, but if the extra ears and eyes were anything to go by, he was on guard too. Troll Doll especially was sticking close to Deku but spent just as much time watching Katsuki. It was infuriating. He wasn’t the one who’d had a freaking episode.

Deku had clammed up after Aizawa left to help with the search. He hadn’t said a word in answer to anyone’s questions and had mostly stared off into space and shivered during the break. At some point Half n Half sat down next to Deku and threw an arm around his shoulders. He didn’t flinch at the contact, and Katsuki wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

After what felt like ages, the tired Commission guy got the show back on the road by exploding what was left of the arena to make a disaster zone. Cold crept up Katsuki’s spine at the eerie resemblance to Kamino. His wrist itched and throbbed. His memory turned to All Might’s weakened form and the gloating suit villain.

He heard a few of his classmates’ breath hitch. The cold abruptly fled his system, fury replacing it. They were doing this on purpose, the government bastards. Katsuki clenched his fists. He wouldn’t let this stop him. He was going to be a hero, the best hero. This was just a stepping stone along the way.

He kept telling himself that as the doors opened to unleash them on the arena. Without making a conscious decision, Katsuki found himself giving the city portion of the arena a wide berth and headed for the bombed out remains of the mountain in the back. Dunce Face and Shitty Hair fell into step beside him, and he didn’t even complain about their bickering on the way.

Chapter Text

Izuku stuck close to his friends as the rescue operation started, still feeling a bit shaky. He should have asked Hitoshi to brainwash him again before this round started. This was too close to Kamino. He didn’t have time right now to deal with all the complicated emotions attached to that place and time. When he caught himself spacing out, he volunteered to run people back to the makeshift evacuation point and medical station.

Moving with a specific goal was good, and spending only small amounts of time in the city at once helped. He knew he looked bad when one of the HUC employees asked if he was alright while he was carrying them to safety. He didn’t remember what he said to them exactly, but they seemed concerned when he dropped them off. After that he manually adjusted the tinting on his visor to make it harder for people to see his face. “Just have to get through this; then I can go have a nice breakdown in my dorm room.”

When a faux villain attack got thrown into the mix, Izuku had the wonderful distraction of fanboying over Gang Orca for a few seconds. Then he remembered that this was an exam, and the pro was playing a villain. Actually, this made it feel a lot more like school and a lot less like Kamino. Izuku grinned and fired a few taser discs at the pro and his henchmen before retreating to allow Shindo, Todoroki, and Yoarashi more room to work. They were the big AOE hitters, and he’d only get in the way.

“They’re all yours, elementals!” He yelled. They gave him weird looks as he ran past. Izuku raced back to the evacuation point to help move victims.

He made several trips before hearing Shindo scream. Izuku pulled up short at the sound. Back when Izuku had first joined the freerunning group, there was an incident involving a puddle of motor oil and Shindo twisting an ankle. The sound had stuck with him then, and this one was worse. He handed off the victim he was carrying and bolted back toward the fight to help his friend.

The situation had disaster written all over it as he approached. Yoarashi and Todoroki were the opposite of cooperating, and they were letting henchmen slip past them to run after the fleeing victims. And Shindo was collapsed on the ground and not moving. Izuku watched in horror as Todoroki and Yoarashi launched attacks at just the wrong angle and time, knocking both off course. And the errant wave of fire was headed straight for Shindo.

“No!” Izuku pushed Hyper-Processing and dove for his friend, not caring at all that his legs spasmed. He hit Shindo and rolled putting his back between his friend and the fire. He was incredibly thankful for fireproofed costumes. Or he would be if not for a design flaw. Without the hood, there was a seam between his helmet and the collar of his jumpsuit that was unprotected. And unlike Tomura, Todoroki couldn’t make his quirk harmless to certain targets in its path.

Izuku gritted his teeth against a scream and batted at the back of his neck to make sure it wasn’t still on fire. Judging by the moisture that stuck to his gauntlet, it was a bad burn. Blinking tears from his eyes, he checked Shindo over. Aside from a few patches of pink skin that looked no worse than a sunburn he was fine. Izuku stood up and rounded on Todoroki and Yoarashi to yell, “What’s the big idea?!” His voice cracked a little, but sue him. He was in pain.

Based on the horror painted on Todoroki’s face he knew exactly what had happened. Yoarashi Izuku couldn’t see very clearly through his tearing eyes, but the thought of shooting him with a taser disc was tempting. Then Gang Orca knocked him out of the air with an ultrasonic attack. Gang Orca jumped several places on Izuku’s mental list of his favorite heroes. He was so getting an autograph after the exam ended.

“Twerp…” Izuku turned around to see Shindo climbing unsteadily to his feet. “Getting yourself hurt for me? You need to sit the rest of this out. Stand back.” He half fell, half crouched to slam his hands onto the ground to unleash another super move, though a bit smaller than the one he used in the free for all.

“What? Shindo, I thought you were paralyzed by Gang Orca’s attack.”

“Yeah, still pretty numb, but because of training my quirk, my brain’s used to getting shaken around.” Shindo then glared at the two first years that had almost barbequed them. “And what the heck was that?! You almost killed us! Midoriya’s getting another scar for his collection. You happy?!”

Huh, Izuku guessed Shindo liked him more than he’d let on. That or his brain was still scrambled. Probably the latter. Izuku moved to go help the evacuees again. Shindo was capable of keeping the henchmen back even if he couldn’t move around much. Ow, turning his head really hurt. Okay, not doing that.

Izuku focused on moving away from the fighting, though when a huge blast of heat washed over him he couldn’t stop himself from looking back. Oh, now they decided to work together. There was a fire tornado encircling Gang Orca. Yeah, that should do it.

“Midoriya!”

The rest of 1-A was here. Izuku almost let himself collapse in relief. Sato steadied him as several of their classmates ran past to help deal with the henchmen. Ashido stopped when she caught a glimpse of Izuku’s neck and gasped. “Yaomomo! Midori got burned pretty bad.”

“Burned?” She looked over at Todoroki and frowned before looking back at Izuku. “Get him out with the evacuees. The Commission should have a healer on premise for the exam.”

Against Izuku’s protests, Sato started leading him away. “Wait, no. I need to get Gang Orca’s autograph when the test ends!”

Ashido, who had decided to escort them, patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Midori. We’ll get it for you. You need to stop moving so much. Your costume rubbing on your neck is making it worse.”

Izuku finally surrendered when Sato threatened to carry him.

Aizawa shook him awake in the infirmary when it was time for them to leave. Izuku yawned and stumbled to his feet. There was some residual pain in his neck, but the healing was done. He could feel the tender scar tissue stretch with every movement, but he hadn’t gotten a straight answer from anyone on how bad the scarring was before he’d passed out. “Guess I shouldn’t have given Dabi my burn scar cream, huh?” he asked, half asleep.

Aizawa gave him an inscrutable look and pushed him forward with a hand on his back. His other hand held Izuku’s costume case. They loaded onto the bus, and Izuku was asleep where he leaned on Hitoshi before Aizawa even started the engine.

---

Toshinori took a deep breath as the inches-thick blast door beeped and slid open. Something between anxiousness and righteous fury burned through his veins as he laid eyes on his old nemesis. Even bound to a chair and hooked up to a dozen pieces of medical equipment, evil and malice hung heavy in the air around All for One. On instinct, Toshinori reached for One for All, faltering slightly when the familiar warmth failed to rise in his chest.

The monster had the audacity to smile as Toshinori approached the bulletproof glass. “Hasn’t the second semester started? I thought you’d focus on teaching now, yet here you are visiting me. Not that I’m complaining. I have been rather bored. Aside from the quirks I can sense, this prison offers not a bit of stimulation for my mind. Quite maddening really.”

Toshinori brushed off the brief thought that the villain’s treatment was less than humane. After all, hadn’t All for One done far worse to his victims? Toshinori lowered himself into the chair the guards had left in front of the glass for him. “I’m here so we can get a few things straight, All for One.”

“Oh? Now I’m curious. Is this where you try to weasel my tragic backstory and my motives out of me? Or are you interested more in my associates?” All for One grinned. “Or perhaps this has more to do with our mutual acquaintance? Let’s hear what you have to say.” All for One tilted his head to the side slightly as if looking behind Toshinori despite his lack of eyes. “And where is Gran Torino?”

“You’re chatty,” Toshinori observed. The fact All for One had pegged every motive for this trip made him apprehensive. He was going to regret coming here, wasn’t he?

“Don’t be flattered. I just haven’t had anyone worthwhile to talk to. While you aren’t my first pick, I’ll take anyone who isn’t a guard or the warden at this point.”

“I want answers,” Toshinori said, narrowing his eyes at the supervillain. “Where is Shigaraki Tomura?”

“Ah, my associates then.” All for One shrugged, triggering all the machine guns mounted in the cell to lock onto him for a moment. The supervillain frowned, glancing at one of the guns before focusing back on the hero before him. “Haven’t the slightest. Unlike your successor, mine has already flown the nest and can make his own decisions.”

Toshinori had known that line of questioning wasn’t likely to yield fruit, but it had been worth a shot. He moved on to his next question. “What did you hope to accomplish with all this? Why spend centuries exploiting and controlling people?”

All for One sighed as if disappointed. “Of course, you’d come here with that tired topic. Even if I told you the truth you’d never be satisfied. Some people cannot understand each other, though I must admit you are the first in your line to ask since my brother.”

Toshinori noted the bitterness in All for One’s tone but didn’t interrupt.

“We’re the same really. We both had an ideal we believed in and the power to enact it. You brought about an age of peace in Japan, however misguided; wouldn’t you want to live in that world as long as possible? Now that I’ve taken steps to see my own ideal made into reality, do not begrudge my desire for the same.”

Toshinori frowned. “Then why a successor?”

All for One somehow managed to give him a disapproving look despite lacking half his face. “You of all people ask that? I am alive, yes, but this is hardly living. I am a realist, All Might. I know when the end is near, and like anyone else I chose to pass my work on to another. Like an inheritance. Startlingly mundane, I know, but for all you and Japan consider me a monster, I’m still human.”

“That’s debatable,” Toshinori said under his breath.

The intercom cracked to life. “You have five minutes left, All Might.”

All for One seemed genuinely miffed at that interruption, sending an eyeless glare at the one-way glass lining the left wall of the cell. “Oh, come now. Don’t put a damper on things. I want to keep talking.” Turning to face All Might once more, he sneered. “Tell me, how has the world taken your retir—” He cut off there as he jolted and turned to look over his shoulder. The guns on the wall followed his sudden movement.

All Might listened but couldn’t hear anyone in the hallway outside the cell. What had shut up the supervillain?

All for One sighed after a few moments and shook his head. “I swear, that boy…Do me a favor, All Might? Teach your students to take better care of themselves and the importance of those with destructive quirks paying attention to their surroundings and allies.”

Toshinori scrutinized All for One, wondering what the man was getting at. He nodded, certain the villain had some way of seeing it.

His request did bring up the last topic Toshinori wanted to cover with his visit today. After Kamino the police had requested the same genetic testing for Midoriya and his father that had been conducted on the captive Nomu. Given the suspicion regarding the source of the family’s quirks, the order had gone through.

Toshinori hadn’t understood most of the report the geneticist gave, but he did catch that both Midoriyas’ DNA showed signs of tampering. It seemed All for One’s quirk directly interfered with a person’s quirk factor, potentially stripping or adding to what was already there. The potential implications were staggering to think about. In the interest of sleeping sometime this week, Toshinori had decided to let the scientists worry about that. He was more concerned with the affect such interference might have on his student. Izuku’s DNA showed more changes than Hisashi’s, though that might simply be due to having acquired his quirk far more recently or the systemic nature of Hyper-Processing.

Toshinori chose his words carefully as he started, “You gave the Midoriyas their quirks…but your history has shown that giving someone a quirk their body was never intended to possess can cause permanent harm…” The stories Nana told him a lifetime ago cited victims being left brain dead.

All for One gave Toshinori a considering hum. “You want to know if they’ll have any trouble. How noble of you, caring about a villain’s friends,” he said, a bit of the venom Toshinori was so familiar with winding between the words. “Rest assured, they will be fine. I even took extra measures to ensure Izuku’s well-being.”

And that was the worrying bit. “Why help a young hero-in-training? How could it possibly benefit you?”

All for One laughed. “It’s not about what Young Midoriya will do for me, but what he’ll do for hero society. How is that society doing, by the way? Has the confidence of the masses wavered since your sudden retirement? Have villains become bolder?” All for One smiled at Toshinori’s silence. “You know what my favorite part about all this is? Any rise in crime going forward is due to you concealing your fading strength, and now you’re relegated to the sidelines, doomed to watch as villains flourish because of your own arrogance. You’re powerless for the rest of your days. Not a fun feeling, is it, hero?”

Toshinori stood up, fists clenched at his sides. “You think you know everything, but you’ve always underestimated people. You want Young Shigaraki to kill me, maybe Young Togata too? I will not be killed so easily, and I refuse to let the future you imagine come to pass.”

All for One huffed, sounding amused as he said, “You came here to ‘set a few things straight’, but this was all you really wanted to say. You wanted me to ‘know’ that I’ve lost. To gloat. Remind me again how different we are?”

The blast door on Toshinori’s side of the glass opened as the intercom announced, “Time’s up. Please exit, All Might.”

All Might turned away from the glass, straightening his suit jacket as he went. He’d almost worn his hero costume here, but he was glad he didn’t. This outfit reminded him where his responsibilities lay now. His anger faded, and he paused to look at his nemesis over his shoulder. “Just because I cannot do hero work anymore doesn’t make me powerless. I will ensure the next generation of heroes are ready for anything villains might throw at them. We will smash your plans and thwart your plots.” Toshinori grinned as he thought of some of the mischief 1-A had already gotten into this year and come out stronger for, of how much Young Togata had grown. “They are relentless. You will be the one watching helpless for the rest of your days, All for One, not me.”

Chapter Text

“Meet me outside at 10:00.”

The ominous words ran circles in Izuku’s head. He thought he’d be able to relax once they got back to the dorms, but apparently Katsuki had other ideas. And now the anxiety over their impending talk was keeping him awake. That and the cold…something that seemed to constrict his chest. Izuku had hoped that feeling was gone after everything that happened at the camp and Kamino, but no such luck.

He tried to distract himself with his friends’ conversation in the common room, and he picked up on a little of what he’d missed while asleep. Todoroki and Katsuki were the only ones from their class to fail the second half of the exam, but they’d have a chance to redeem themselves in remedial classes. A quick question confirmed that Yoarashi had failed as well. While Izuku didn’t plan to hold anything against Todoroki—who’d already apologized profusely and presented him with a new jar of scar cream—he felt somewhat vindicated hearing Yoarashi’s grudge against Todoroki had cost him.

After much wheedling, Izuku convinced Hitoshi to take a picture of his new scar to let him see the damage. “You know, you can just go find a mirror like a normal person,” his friend pointed out taking Izuku’s phone for the requested photo.

“Yeah, but that requires moving,” Izuku whined tiredly. The healing quirk the Commission’s doctor had used on him had taken a lot out of him. Sure, he’d already been a bit run down after his panic attack, but it shouldn’t have drained him this much, surely. He hadn’t felt this tired since Recovery Girl’s healing session the second day of school. Had the burn really been that bad, or was this healing quirk less efficient than Recovery Girl’s?

Hitoshi huffed out a quiet laugh before handing his phone back. “Before you look at it, remember that Recovery Girl will probably make it look better with her follow-up treatments.”

“Really not helping me feel better, Hitoshi.” He took a breath before selecting the picture. A centimeter-wide band of rough purple-red tissue crossed the back of his neck, tapering off and fading into pinks as it wrapped around the sides of his neck. It wasn’t perfectly symmetrical; the scarring was a bit worse and wrapped around further on the left side. Izuku shuddered to think what shape Shindo would have been in if he hadn’t blocked that blast. “Well, guess I’m growing my hair out longer now.”

Uraraka leaned forward in her seat at one of the sofas and asked, “Will your hair actually grow out, or will it grow up?”

“Huh?”

Mina seemed to understand what Uraraka meant and grinned, delighted. “Oh, I hope he can grow a fro. That’ll be so much fun to play with. I’ve never met someone with a natural afro before. His hair might just be curly enough…”

Hitoshi and Izuku looked at each other, neither understanding the girls’ excitement. To be safe they made a strategic retreat while the two were distracted. Izuku returned to his room and quickly fired off a text to Mei to let her know about the needed adjustment to his costume. Then he pulled out the envelope Aizawa had handed him when they got back to campus. He pulled the plastic card out and turned it over in his hands. His provisional hero license. It almost didn’t feel real.

He took a picture with his phone and sent it to his dad, Maijima, Ms. Joke, and All Might. Then he posted it on discord where Mirio, Hado, and Amajiki could see it. After a minute’s thought, he sent it to Tomura too. “Got my license and a new scar today. Also met one of your friends. Where does she even keep those knives?”

He watched his upperclassmen gush about their friend being all grown up for a few minutes before Tomura texted back. “Knew you could do it. And how did you get hurt? T said she barely scratched you. Do I need to murder someone? As for the knives, we all try not to think about it.”

Izuku was 70% sure Tomura was joking about committing homicide this time, but he decided not to mention those responsible just in case. “Another burn, not from Katsuki. Flaw in my costume. Going to fix it before I wear it again.” He attached the picture of his scar.

Incoherent text spam followed, and Izuku hoped Tomura didn’t accidentally disintegrate his phone again. Finally, an actual message came through. “Please quit almost dying. D says if you keep this up, you’ll match him in a few years.”

Izuku made a face at that. “I’ll be careful.”

They messaged a bit longer before Izuku yawned and set an alarm on his phone. He was going to get a little rest before his “chat” with Katsuki. He had a feeling he’d need the energy. Exhaustion and thoughts of his friends finally beat out his anxiety, and he slipped into a dreamless slumber.

His alarm woke him at 9:45, and Izuku stumbled into the bathroom to splash water on his face. He quietly crept down the stairs to the common room, finding it already emptied out. Curfew was at 10:00, and everyone else was rightfully tired. There’d probably be a celebratory party this weekend once everyone recovered.

Izuku walked over to the door and slipped outside with his shoes. Katsuki was already there, waiting under one of the trees with his arms crossed. He always did tend to be early to things. “Katsuki.”

His former friend glanced over to him. “Deku.” Then he jerked his head to indicate the sidewalk and started walking.

Considering two of their classmates might be able to eavesdrop this close to the dorm, Izuku didn’t question Katsuki. He fell into step a few feet behind the blonde and to the right, careful to stay out of arm’s reach. Not that he expected an attack, but Katsuki was being oddly quiet and reserved. Very un-Kacchan like. The only times Izuku could remember Katsuki being quiet, it had preceded a blow-up. This felt different somehow.

After a while of walking in silence, Izuku recognized where they were heading. “Ground Beta?”

Katsuki stopped to gaze up at a familiar building. “Where we fought, and I lost.” The lack of emotion in his voice was unsettling. “Before you moved away you were weak, a coward. Then you came back after 5 years with a new quirk and attitude; you knew how to fight. So, you’re going to tell me how you really got a quirk out of nowhere and made it into this school.” Katsuki finally turned to look at Izuku then, gaze calculating and accusing.

At Izuku’s silence, Katsuki glanced away again, but the usual hint of anger started making it into his words as he continued talking. “You’ve been getting better and better since then until you finally passed the licensing exam while I failed. How the hell is that even possible?”

“That wasn’t a matter of ability though…”

“Shut up and listen, you damn nerd!” And there was the brand of rage Izuku had grown familiar with in grade school.

Izuku glared at Katsuki but stayed silent. He considered texting Aizawa to get him out of this.

“Then there was Kamino…”

Izuku froze. Both of them had been scarred by Kamino in their own way. Ironically Kamino was the one time Izuku didn’t gain a new physical scar; he seemed to get one or two for every major event in his life since joining UA. Izuku would say he’d escaped unscathed, but he wasn’t a liar. He knew that day left a scar on his mind and emotions. Just…this time the unbeatable Kacchan got to bear the visible scar.

If he didn’t think about it too hard or feel guilty it was kinda funny in a karmic way that now Katsuki wore a brace on his right wrist to cover a scar and support the joint when a few months ago Izuku had worn a compression sleeve on that wrist for the same reason. Katsuki really did have to outdo him in everything, didn’t he?

Katsuki took a single step toward Izuku, recapturing his attention. “Subete knew you, knew about us, your old nickname for me.”

“I didn’t set him on you, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Izuku said quietly, suspecting Katsuki wouldn’t believe him, even if he thought that. Seeing as he hadn’t tried to murder Izuku since moving into the dorms, he probably already had figured as much.

“I know that dumbass. But the crusty bastard wanted to avenge you like a fucking friend or brother or something. I think the boss villain did too.”

Izuku tilted his head and eyed Katsuki. He’d heard him go on about Tomura plenty in the past few weeks, but he rarely if ever spoke of Sensei.

“I heard about him, that he can steal and give quirks. It sounds impossible, but there are the Nomu. And that one cat lady from the camp had her quirk stolen and can’t do hero work now. And somehow All Might lost his power and had to retire. Quirks can move from one person to another,” he concluded, shaking his head as he studied the pavement. His eyes locked on Izuku’s in a challenge as he continued, “You knew that villain, and don’t think I haven’t noticed All Might showing interest in you too.”

Izuku gave a weak attempt at a laugh. It came out far more self-deprecating than intended. “All Might’s not interested in me. He’s interested in me helping his…” Oh right, he shouldn’t mention the whole successor thing. “His protégé. Yeah, I met him the day of the sludge villain attack, but that’s it. He didn’t even recognize me until the battle trial.”

Katsuki scrutinized him for a few seconds, huffing when he couldn’t find a lie. “When we were kids, we both wanted to be like All Might, but I was the one who had potential. Then a little nobody like you got noticed by him, learned his secrets, and made nice with his archnemesis to boot. That’s why we’re out here—to settle this. Did you betray All Might for a quirk? Whose side are you really on?!”

Izuku blanched and waved his hands in front of him. “What, no! I would never betray All Might! Or anyone!” Except maybe Endeavor. “This isn’t a good way to work things out. We’re not even supposed to be here this late or by ourselves. We can reserve a gym after class if you really want to fight.”

“If we fight for real at school, we’ll be stopped,” Katsuki countered, starting a serious of arm stretches Izuku recognized from their heroics classes. “I want to know for myself what those two see in you, why All Might favors you over me. Don’t think he doesn’t! He knows that you got your quirk from his sworn enemy and let it slide. Why? Is everything I’ve done to be like him wrong?”

Izuku stared at Katsuki in mute disbelief. There was the barest tremor in his once friend’s voice. Izuku had never heard him like this. Ever. Seeing and hearing Katsuki this…shaken and earnest felt wrong.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I thought I had that one thing right. I know IcyHot thinks of his abusive excuse for a father when he sees me. Hell, even Hand Freak compared me to the bastard.” Katsuki said, gazing down at his upturned right hand. After a second, he clenched it into a fist. “Over the last few months, I’ve come to realize I’ve done a lot of shit in my life that was unheroic.”

Izuku knew at that moment that he wasn’t getting out of this. This needed to happen. Not for him. For Kacchan. Something about what he said made Izuku suspect this wasn’t the only thing bothering him. Regardless, it seemed Katsuki was still as terrible at processing emotions as he had been when they were eight. If he came to Izuku to burn off enough steam and frustration to think clearly, Izuku could do that. Katsuki asking for help, however roundabout, showed just how serious this was and that Katsuki was capable of growing. And as much as being around Katsuki hurt more often than not, Izuku couldn’t very well ignore someone asking for help.

“To answer your earlier question, Sensei is responsible for my quirk, though at the time I thought he did something like how he forced Kurogiri’s Warp Gate to activate at Kamino, worked with something that was already there.” Izuku shrugged and started his own stretches. “Now? I don’t know. I still think there are better ways to handle this, but if you want to spar, I’m game. Just…no new scars, please? I already got one today.”

Katsuki gave him something between a feral smile and a sneer, letting off a few explosions in his left hand. “You won’t get burned if you dodge,” he snarked. The malice from the battle trial was missing, and there was something there besides anger.

Izuku didn’t have time to puzzle through a full translation of Kacchanese before the explosive blonde was flying toward him, propelled by a series of blasts. The world slowed down as Katsuki spun into a right hook. Izuku dodged, frowning slightly. How much did Katsuki’s injury compromise his right arm? Was leading off with his injured side force of habit or him putting up a front to show he wasn’t weaker than before? While Izuku pondered that, Katsuki sailed past him. Izuku was not expecting an explosion to redirect the blonde into a powerful kick. The blow caught Izuku in the center of the chest and sent him tumbling. He rolled back to his feet, gasping for air.

Katsuki chased after him. “You think too much, Deku. Come at me!”

“Easy for you to say,” Izuku muttered. Katsuki’s quirk gave him mid-range attacks while Izuku had to fight close range. If he had his support gear, he’d be a lot more comfortable, but trouble wasn’t likely to wait for him to be prepared. Might as well get used to fighting like this now. He was sure he’d have plenty more of it as an underground hero.

So, he adapted. He dodged explosions and kicks at the last second, tried to get in a hit and dodge again before Katsuki could course correct. Even with Hyper-Processing in full gear, staying ahead of Katsuki took a lot of concentration, and he couldn’t avoid every hit. But the reverse was also true. Katsuki blocked and dodged the majority of Izuku’s blows, but Izuku tried to make those that hit count. He only attempted joint locking Katsuki once before discovering how bad an idea that was. The explosion Katsuki let off as his left arm twisted up and back was much larger than his prior ones. It threw both of them into a wall, and Katsuki seemed more shaken by it than Izuku.

Izuku made the executive decision to not try any further restraining moves. After having already chosen to avoid hitting Katsuki’s right forearm, that limited Izuku a fair bit. Maybe he could wear Katsuki down? The other option was knocking him out. Izuku wasn’t entirely sure he could pull off either of those. What if…

That train of thought was cut off by Katsuki flying at him again. “I bet you’ve got some plan up your sleeve. That’s one of the things I hate most about you. I can never tell what you’re thinking!” Katsuki punctuated the statement another blast that Izuku barely rolled out of the way of. “You’ve always looked down on me, even as kids. But if you think you can one-up me with your stolen power, think again!” he yelled, blasting himself toward Izuku in a spiraling move similar to the Howitzer Impact he’d used in the Sports Festival.

Without thinking, Izuku bent into a back handspring and kicked up as he went. He nailed Katsuki on the jaw. The blonde sailed backward several feet before hitting the ground and staying there. Izuku straightened and took a step towards him before stopping himself. Katsuki didn’t accept unsolicited help. So, Izuku waited, not quite looking at Katsuki as he shook off his daze.

“Is that what you really thought? Why I hung around you despite everything you did to me?” Izuku asked, disbelieving. “I had nothing back then. All Might was my favorite, but you were right there, the hero actually in my life.”

Izuku shook his head as moisture tried to build in his eyes. “I looked up to you, you idiot! You had so much potential. Still do.” Izuku said, frustrated that Katsuki had all that promise and seemed to not be fully realizing it. He knew Katsuki could be an amazing hero. “I knew how far ahead you were. That’s why I chased after you when we were kids. Why I worked so hard to train in America.”

Well, it had started that way, but at some point, Izuku’s focus had shifted. He wasn’t doing anything for Katsuki or his approval anymore. Now it was more for himself and those that believed in him. Katsuki was just one more in a long list of people who should have supported him and didn’t: his teachers in school, his first aikido instructor, his mom. It only seemed fitting that his first best friend top the list.

Izuku resisted telling Katsuki as much. As satisfying as it might be to admit out loud, it would only make this situation worse. Instead, he watched the blonde carefully. At least Katsuki seemed to hear Izuku now. He never used to.

After a minute of catching his breath, the explosive teen sat up and rested his arms on his knees. He kept his eyes downcast as he let out a humorless laugh. “Why did I end up having to chase someone who was always so far behind me?” he asked quietly.

The blonde clenched his fists and growled. “Why did a damn small fry like you get strong and become the Number One hero’s favorite? You got so much better, and I destroyed All Might!” he yelled, voice cracking. Pained red eyes looked up to meet Izuku’s green. Were those…tears?

Izuku stood frozen, not quite believing that he was witnessing Katsuki break down in front of him. So, this was what was really eating at his old friend. Izuku knew what that guilt and shame felt like. He’d felt so responsible for what happened he’d never considered one of the others might blame themselves. And Katsuki probably hadn’t told anyone else how he felt.

“I admired him so much, but it’s because of me that he ended up losing his power. His quirk was gone after fighting that villain; what do you think happened?” Katsuki’s voice continued to break as he swiped at his eyes with the back of a hand. “If I had been stronger…if I’d never treated you badly enough that your villain friend wanted to kidnap me, none of it would have happened. All Might hasn’t said anything to me; everyone has to know it though. I can’t get it out of my head. So, what am I supposed to do?”

Shoot, how did he reassure Katsuki that All for One didn’t steal All Might’s quirk? Izuku debated for a few seconds before deciding to tell just enough to assuage some of that guilt. “All Might’s power wasn’t stolen. It’s…not my secret to share—I only found out on accident—but All Might’s power was fading a long time before that fight. He was planning to retire soon. Kamino just exacerbated his condition.” Izuku took a breath before taking up a fighting stance again. “It’s not your fault any more than it is mine. Neither of us can change what happened, but we can both get stronger so no one else gets hurt defending us.”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes at Izuku, staring him down. There was a slight twitch at the corner of the blonde’s mouth before he climbed to his feet. He adopted his own ready stance and fired off a few small explosions. Then the explosions cut off.

“That’s quite enough of that.” Both boys turned toward the voice to see a very annoyed Aizawa approaching them with glowing red eyes. A concerned Yagi followed close behind.

Izuku shriveled under his teachers’ looks. Well, Yagi’s looks. Aizawa was very carefully not looking at him while he had his quirk active. And Yagi seemed to be fixating on Izuku’s new scar. Was Yagi more pale than usual?

“What possessed you two to break curfew, sneak onto a practice field without supervision, and fight each other using your quirks?” Aizawa ground out. When neither of them answered for a few seconds, Aizawa blinked, deactivating his quirk. “Are either of you hurt badly enough to need a visit to Recovery Girl?”

Izuku tested his limbs and stretched. Definitely some scratches and bruises, maybe a pulled muscle or two, but nothing serious. “No, sensei.”

Bakugo grumbled something similar, and Aizawa sighed. “All Might take Bakugo back to the dorm and talk to him; I’ll talk to Midoriya here before heading back. I get the feeling they’ll be more forthcoming when separated.”

Izuku shrank in on himself as Yagi and Katsuki walked off. With the adrenaline leaving his system now, he felt more tired than ever. Aizawa seemed to notice and motioned for him to follow as he walked toward a bench that had survived the firefight. Izuku sat on it gratefully.

“Now,” Aizawa started again. “You’re going to tell me why you and Bakugo were out here alone when you two can barely stand to breathe the same air.”

Izuku flinched and looked away. After worrying his split lip for a moment, he looked back up at his teacher. “Katsuki wanted to talk.”

“And why did you think this was the way to do it?” Aizawa asked, raising an eyebrow.

Izuku frowned, trying to find words for something he just knew. “It…wasn’t…but it was the way Katsuki asked for. He’s never been very good at asking for help.” Izuku clarified. “He felt guilty over All Might losing his power saving him at Kamino. And…certain parties comparing Katsuki to Endeavor made things worse…” Izuku scratched his head, uncertain how to really get his teacher to understand without giving up Todoroki’s secret.

Aizawa surprised him by sitting on the bench beside him. “I wouldn’t want to be compared to Endeavor either, but that’s no excuse for what happened tonight,” Aizawa said sternly before sighing. “I’ll talk to him about All Might, if Yagi doesn’t beat me to it. And you’ll both be talking to your therapists about this incident extensively. Just because Katsuki ‘asked for help’ doesn’t mean you should have been the one to give it.”

Izuku shifted uncomfortably before speaking up again. “Speaking of therapists, could you let Katsuki’s know that restraint is a trigger?” At the look Aizawa gave him, Izuku elaborated, “He freaked when I tried to put him in a joint lock, and I wasn’t trying on his right arm.”

Aizawa rubbed at his eyes. “Of course…” Then he leveled tired, dark eyes on Izuku. “I don’t think you understand just how angry I am right now, problem child. I’m sorely tempted to expel you both.”

Izuku flinched and hunched his shoulders, looking away from his teacher.

“But you two have more potential than I’ve seen in years, and I hate to see potential go to waste.” Aizawa waited to continue until Izuku hesitantly met his gaze. “And since you two seem to have the energy to fight the same day as taking your license exam, I think I’ll put all that energy to better use.” He smiled as Izuku’s face paled. “You two are on house arrest for the next three days. In that time, I expect you to clean the dorms top to bottom and write me a five-page essay on proper conflict resolution and de-escalation techniques.”

Izuku grimaced but nodded. “Understood, sensei. I’ll let Ms. Joke know not to expect me this weekend.” They’d been planning a big celebration for everyone getting their licenses too.

Aizawa nodded and stood up. “Now, come on. It’s late, and I want to get some sleep tonight. You should be getting plenty of rest too with your visit to Recovery Girl tomorrow, or did you forget that her quirk uses your stamina to heal you?”

Izuku rubbed at his new scar—which was still an odd mix of burning, tingly, and numb—and followed. He was more than ready for this day to end.

Chapter Text

House arrest was…awkward. Izuku and Katsuki largely ignored each once they’d sorted out who was cleaning what. Katsuki chewed Izuku out once for not wearing gloves. Something about nitroglycerin absorbing through skin. Izuku shuddered thinking about what Ashido or Tsuyu’s own quirk residue might do with skin contact. He really hoped those compounds mixing with each other or the cleaners didn’t cause any nasty fumes.

He asked Aizawa about that when he swung by the dorm to escort Izuku to his appointment with Recovery Girl. Aizawa only rubbed his eyes and said he’d ask Nezu and Maijima. There was a reason Aizawa wasn’t in charge of teaching chemistry.

Recovery Girl examined his neck, tutting as she pressed on different parts of the scar and asked what he felt. “You’re lucky the burn didn’t go any deeper, young man. Those two should have been disqualified and removed the second they started infighting. Someone without a fireproofed costume would still be in ICU.”

She shook her head and planted a kiss on Izuku’s forehead. The scar itched and shrank marginally, and Izuku resisted the urge to scratch or rub at it. He wasn’t quite sure how to cover this one. It wasn’t like he could put a compression sleeve on his neck. At least the itching decreased with each day and infirmary visit.

Finally, three days passed, and Izuku and Katsuki were allowed to return to their normal schedule and classes. Iida kindly provided them each with a copy of the notes for the classes they’d missed, and Izuku was reluctantly glad he canceled with Ms. Joke this weekend. He’d be playing serious catchup based on the math notes he glanced through. He always had a harder time following notes rather than examples in math. Was Iida free for a study session this weekend? Izuku could ask him.

Izuku was dragged from his thoughts by Aizawa announcing they had a few guest speakers for homeroom this morning. He opened the door and ushered in Amajiki, Hado, and Mirio. Izuku beamed when he saw them, coursework forgotten.

“These three will be talking to you about the upcoming hero work studies,” Aizawa said with his usual enthusiasm. “Go ahead and introduce yourselves. Amajiki, you first.”

Izuku’s eyes widened as he immediately saw a problem. He flipped his notebook to a blank page and scribbled a quick message in large kanji. He held his notebook up and subtly waved to get the Big Three’s attention. Hado spotted him first and smiled. Then she scanned the page he held and elbowed a shaking Amajiki. Once she had her friend’s attention, she pointed to Izuku. Amajiki squinted as he read the note.

“Pretend you’re just talking to me in the hallway between classes.”

Amajiki grinned for a split second before focusing on Izuku’s face. Izuku set his notebook down, mission accomplished. He smiled encouragingly as Amajiki nervously stumbled through his introduction, “I’m Amajiki Tamaki. I’ve been working under Fat Gum for the last year. I’ve learned a lot…a-and…” And his courage finally gave out. Amajiki ducked behind Mirio and hid his face in his friend’s back. “It’s no use. I can feel all their eyes on me.”

“Don’t sweat it, Tamaki. You did great,” Mirio assured him while the majority of the class looked on in confusion.

Hado took over introductions while Mirio comforted their friend. “Hi! I’m Hado Nejiri, and I’m excited to meet you all.” Then she got distracted and started hopping around the room asking increasingly personal questions of her audience. Even Izuku wasn’t exempt, given that she caught him rubbing at his new scar under the collar of his uniform. Aizawa eventually stepped in to corral her.

Mirio stepped up once Amajiki found a nice corner to hide his face in. “I’m Togata Mirio. The future’s going to be…” He waited for a response.

Izuku knew what response his friend expected and couldn’t resist. “Present.”

Mirio faltered and looked at Izuku for a moment before laughing. “I was going to say ‘grim’, but yeah, that works too.”

Izuku smiled, ignoring the odd looks his classmates gave him. Then he saw the gleam in Mirio’s eyes. Izuku’s face fell and he gulped.

“You’re all used to people talking at you, and you have no frame of reference for these work studies. How about instead of being one more person ‘telling’ you I show you what they’re are all about? You can all fight me at once!”

Izuku sank down in his chair, thinking about their last One for All training session. “Yeah, I’ll pass…” he mumbled.

Regardless of his protests, Izuku stood in Gym Gamma a few minutes later in his gym uniform—well, in half of his gym uniform. He’d slipped on the pair of gym shorts he had on loan from Mirio instead of his own, just in case. The size difference there wasn’t as noticeable as if he’d worn Mirio’s gym shirt.

He slunk over to the wall and leaned on it next to Amajiki. He patted his upperclassman on the shoulder. “Hey, you did really well with your introduction. You’ll be handling press conferences like a pro in no time.”

Amajiki sighed, exhausted at even the thought of dealing with more people.

“Oh, that’s a mood,” Hitoshi said as he walked past.

Izuku laughed and looked around at his classmates as they stretched and prepared to get destroyed. Spotting Mirio, Izuku called, “No cheating, Mirio!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Izuku!” Mirio said back cheerily. “I don’t want to hospitalize anyone.”

The others looked between Mirio and Izuku in confusion and worry.

Todoroki sidled up on Izuku’s other side to join him in leaning on the wall. His friend had already decided to sit the fight out, since he couldn’t participate in the work studies without a provisional license. Katsuki had no such qualms, eagerly popping off his quirk while the rest of the class arranged themselves.

“You’re not fighting?” Todoroki asked quietly.

Izuku shook his head before answering with a matching lack of volume, “Not yet, at least. I already know how he fights. Maybe after the others are down, I’ll spar with him. So, they can see him not holding back.”

Todoroki narrowed his eyes at Izuku but turned his attention back to the match as Aizawa called out for them to start. Predictably, Katsuki launched himself forward first, followed by a volley of ranged attacks. He fired a blast at Mirio’s face before vaulting himself up and out of the way of the others’ quirks. Izuku watched as Mirio started his disappearing and reappearing routine, catching everyone off guard. If most of Mirio’s skill was experience gained from his work study, then every one of his classmates would benefit from participating in their own. He wondered what sorts of skills his classmates might learn while working under the pros, what skills he might…

Izuku blinked as a problem occurred to him. He pushed off the wall and walked over to Aizawa, ignoring the confused look Todoroki sent after him. “Aizawa-sensei?”

“What is it, problem child?” the teacher asked without taking his eyes off the fight.

“With the whole protection detail thing, how am I going to do a work study?”

Aizawa blinked before looking down at him. “All Might had an idea for that, actually. If you went to an agency one of the third years works with, you’d be well protected in transit and while there. I’m sure you know which one he was thinking of.” Aizawa pointedly glanced at Mirio, who had taken down everyone except Katsuki at this point. It didn’t look like the explosive teen had been able to land a single hit on Mirio, but he was evading Mirio’s attacks too. “I don’t know what exactly is going on with you three, but know that you do have other choices, Midoriya. Don’t feel obligated to work somewhere because All Might suggests it.”

Did Aizawa know about One for All? That would make it so much easier to explain his reasons for jumping at the idea, but there really wasn’t a good way to check without asking Mirio or Yagi. “I’ll keep that in mind, sensei, but Nighteye would be a decent pick regardless of affiliation. While I can’t predict the future with my quirk, sometimes analyses can accomplish the same thing, and I am good at that. Plus, Nighteye would have valuable insight on fighting with a non-physical quirk.” And with All Might’s former sidekick surely being aware of the true nature of One for All, they could brainstorm.

Not that Yagi and Mirio weren’t smart in their own ways, but they both just stared at Izuku blankly when he went off on one of his quirk theory spiels. That was the best case scenario. Sometimes Yagi would look distinctly unsettled or like he’d seen a ghost instead. Izuku keenly felt the loss of Sensei and their long conversations whenever it happened. He tried to cut himself off now whenever he caught himself starting on a quirk rant, but it was almost painful. Nezu was okay every now and then, but he tended to dominate their conversations within 15 minutes of starting. He probably saw Izuku as a student first and fell back into “teaching” mode without realizing it. So, he couldn’t really blame the mouse/bear/dog.

Of course, he would pounce on the opportunity to talk to the person who had been referred to as the brains of All Might’s agency. Even if he didn’t want to discuss other quirks, surely he’d be up for conversation about One for All. Izuku could live with that. One for All was the mother of all oddities as far as Izuku was concerned. There were things that just didn’t add up, like how it apparently gave Yagi that transformation side effect and the faint glow to his eyes. He couldn’t think of any reason for a stockpiling quirk to do that.

Unaware of his student’s thoughts, Aizawa hummed his acknowledgment. They watched as Mirio finally got ahold of Katsuki and delivered a nasty blow to the gut. “You do already seem to know how to work with Mirio and his quirk. Nice shorts by the way.” Aizawa moved into the ring to yell for Izuku’s classmates to get to the sidelines.

Izuku watched his teacher warily before heading for Mirio. “Enjoying yourself, senpai?”

Mirio laughed and stretched a little. “You know it! So, how are we doing this? Normal spar rule—what happened to your neck?”

Ah, right. That was visible now that he wasn’t wearing the collared shirt and jacket. He self-consciously set his left hand over the scar. “Accident at the licensing exam. I’m fine; Recovery Girl’s been working on it. Normal rules are good.”

Mirio forced his eyes back to Izuku’s face. “If you say so.”

They took up ready stances and waited. Aizawa yelled a moment later, “Start.”

Izuku and Mirio had taken to sparring in some of their sessions with All Might. Izuku was by no means an even match for Mirio, but he was at least a moving target while Mirio worked on his concentration and control with One for All. More than once Izuku had made an observation mid-spar that proved helpful to the blonde. Mirio, in turn, went at least a little easy on Izuku and gave him pointers before inevitably humiliating him. Izuku had a sneaking suspicion Mirio wasn’t going to hold back even that little bit this time.

As predicted, Mirio vanished into the ground as soon as Aizawa started the match. Izuku spun low and swung his right leg behind him just in time for Mirio to reappear. Mirio’s reflexes were better though, and Izuku’s leg passed right through him. Izuku barely rolled out of the way of a punch that buckled the pavement on contact and sent out a shockwave to boot. For a moment, Izuku felt like he was back in his heroics practical.

Without really thinking, he grabbed a chunk of concrete Katsuki’s explosions had knocked loose in the previous fight and flung it at Mirio’s face. Then he aimed a jab at Mirio’s solar plexus, hoping to land a hit while his senpai’s eyes were intangible and thus blind.

Mirio caught his wrist instead. Izuku didn’t have time to take a deep breath before darkness swallowed him. He really was not a fan of Mirio’s quirk. The whole losing his clothes thing was inconvenient but bearable. The feelings of suffocating and being deprived of all senses except for the pressure of the hand on his wrist were extremely unpleasant. When they popped back into tangibility, Izuku was already midway through a left hook aimed for Mirio’s nose.

Mirio actually looked surprised for a second before dropping back through the floor, this time without Izuku. Izuku dove away from his previous location and cast about for his shoes. Moving and fighting without protection from the jagged shards of concrete and larger lumps of rubble on the floor was not ideal and was the entire reason for Mirio pulling that move.

Izuku ignored the gaping of his classmates as best he could while he cautiously hopped/sprinted back to his pile of clothes. He could feel himself turning red. Thank goodness he’d worn Mirio’s shorts. This could have been infinitely worse. As things stood, someone wolf-whistled, and Izuku was too afraid to see who it was.

Mirio didn’t let Izuku reach his clothes unchallenged, though. He shot from the ground a few feet in front of Izuku with a dangerous grin and his fist pulled back. The faint glow and sparking along his arm made Izuku’s eyes fly wide in alarm. He dropped and shielded his head as Mirio punched. In truth it was much closer to a smash than a punch, but his classmates really didn’t need to know that. Wind and debris tore at Izuku as he tumbled backward.

Izuku rolled to a stop on his back. He unwound his scratched-up arms from his head and lay there for a second before raising one arm to point in Mirio’s general direction. “First off, not cool. Second, I give.” He dropped his arm back to the floor and wondered how many bruises he’d be sporting later.

Hado popped into view above him with his shoes, socks, shirt, and boxers all bundled together. “That was fun to watch! You really surprised Mirio with that one punch. I thought you were going to actually get him for a moment. But, that’s Mirio for you. He’s really good at handling surprises. Ooh, where’d you get those scars from?” Hado poked at Izuku’s shoulder as he sat up and took his clothes from her.

Izuku glanced down to see where she’d poked before tucking his boxers into the waistband of his shorts. He’d almost forgotten about the series of talon marks along his collar bones. “One of the Nomu in Hosu.” He pulled his socks and shoes back on next. “Hey, how bad’s my back? I can’t tell if I’m just bruised or if I got scraped up.”

Hado leaned over to get a look. “Hm, looks like road rash. Probably ought to get that disinfected.”

“Lovely,” he said, pulling his gym shirt back on.

Aizawa strolled over with Mirio as Izuku climbed to his feet. “Alright, you two, swing by Recovery Girl’s office, then get back to class.” He handed them passes, then shooed the rest of the students from the gym.

Izuku looked down at Mirio’s right arm to see bruising coming in. Izuku gave his senpai his best disappointed face. “Really? I thought you were done messing yourself up with your quirk.”

Mirio scratched at the back of his head and grinned sheepishly as they walked. “I got a little carried away.”

“You did look pretty terrifying with the whole glowing and sparking thing,” Izuku admitted. “Aside from momentary lapses in control, how’s the training going?”

Mirio contemplated for a moment. “I think I’m managing around 70% right now? But it’s felt a little weird the last week or so. Not really sure how to describe it. Just…different. It throws off my focus sometimes.”

Izuku frowned and tilted his head. “You’ve had it a little over a year. Maybe now that you’re getting better control it’s finally finished settling in?” Or it was mutating on him for real this time. Hopefully, it wasn’t that. Mirio had been making good progress.

They chatted about their classes the rest of the way to the infirmary. Their conversation cut off when the infirmary door slid open to reveal an unamused heroine waiting for them. “What have I told both of you?” She lightly whacked Mirio in the shin with her cane. “What sort of example are you trying to set?”

Mirio flinched. “Sorry, Shuzenji.”

“And you!” She pointed her cane at Izuku’s chest. “I just saw you for your scar this morning. You won’t have much stamina to work with.”

Izuku grimaced and shuffled into the room. “S-sorry. At least I avoided a concussion this time?”

“Mhm. I’ll be the judge of that. Sit,” she commanded, pointing at the beds.

Mirio and Izuku obediently sat down, and Izuku took off his shirt, wincing as the fabric pulled away from a place it had stuck. He was definitely going to have to wash that shirt.

Recovery Girl took care of Mirio’s arm first, then checked over Izuku’s arms and legs before telling him to turn and let her see his back. She tutted at whatever she saw. “I’ll have to get all the debris out of that before I try to heal it. Sit tight. I’ll be right back,” she said as she walked to a supply closet.

While waiting for her to return, Izuku turned to Mirio. “Hey, Mirio?”

“Yeah?”

“With the whole protection detail in case Subete comes after me—which he won’t—the teachers want me to do a work study with someone from your class. That way I’ll have a ‘hero’ with me to and from the agency. Do you know if Sir Nighteye is taking interns right now?”

Mirio tapped a finger on his chin as he thought. “Not sure. I’ll totally ask him when I go in tomorrow though. I think he would like you.”

“Thanks so much! That means a lot.” Izuku smiled and rubbed at his neck.

“Stop that,” Recovery Girl said, gently pushing Izuku’s hand away from his scar with her cane. Izuku only jumped a little. She could be really quiet when she wanted to be. “Now hold still. I’m going to pick out a few of the bigger pieces, then rinse the wound to get rid of the rest.”

“Yes, sensei.” Izuku’s face pinched as she got to work.

Mirio decided to take pity on his kohai and distract him. “Hey, Izuku, guess what?”

“What?”

Mirio leaned forward to whisper, “I told Amajiki.” Mirio had been debating for a month whether he should let his best friend in on the big secret or not, and he was leaning more and more toward telling him. They both agreed telling Hado might not be the best idea. She wasn’t great at keeping secrets. Amajiki was much more discreet, and Mirio trusted him with his life.

Izuku’s eyes widened, and a grin chased away his pained expression. “No way! When?”

“Right before the semester started. He took it pretty well, all things considered. I think he already had half of it figured out…” Mirio admitted while smiling. “Tamaki’s pretty bright.”

Chapter Text

The first thing that greeted Izuku when he walked into the Development Studio the next day wasn’t an explosion for once. An explosion he could have handled. No, this was something he had zero experience dealing with: an apologetic Mei. “Izuku! I’m so sorry!” The goggled and grease-smudged girl crashed into him a moment after he opened the door. After giving him a bone-creaking hug, she pulled him over to one of the work stations and pushed him into a seat to give her a better view of his neck.

“Hitoshi told you?” Izuku asked, unsuccessfully trying to escape. “Really, I’m fine, Mei. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.” The feeling there still wasn’t normal, and his uniform irritated it, but it didn’t hurt, per se. “We just need to fix my costume to keep it from happening again.”

“You bet it’s never happening again!” Mei said, her voice a bit steelier and a bit less enthusiastic than usual. “Now hold still. I need to get these measurements as accurate as possible,” she said while snugging a measuring tape around Izuku’s throat.

Izuku tolerated the fussing and measuring for a few more minutes before asking, “So…if I was interested in getting a second ranged weapon to go with my hero costume, what would you suggest?”

Any hint of guilt evaporated from Mei’s face, and a wide grin took its place. “I’m glad you asked! I have so many babies for you to try out…” Mei tapped her chin with her stylus before throwing a sideways glance at the door to the lab. Izuku realized with mild trepidation that Maijima wasn’t present to dissuade Mei from whatever she was about to suggest. “And Snipe dropped off his gun earlier for Maijima-sensei to look over. There’s a test firing range on the floor below this one…”

Izuku straightened at Mei’s idea. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in seeing the hero’s primary weapon up close. “We’re only testing with rubber bullets?”

“Pfft. Of course. No lethal rounds without teacher present.”

Izuku allowed himself a grin as he grabbed his notebook and a few pens. “Are you bringing your babies with, or should we come back for them?”

Mei bounded over to a disorganized pile of finished and semi-finished projects and fished out a few questionable devices. Then she walked over to the shelf that held their teacher’s personal projects. Izuku joined her at the shelf to ensure she only grabbed the rubber bullets, and he took half of the gadgets from her arms to carry himself.

The trek to the firing range was a short one, and Izuku couldn’t help but wonder what Nezu made of them. Surely, he could see the holster Mei had slung over one shoulder. As if in answer to Izuku’s thoughts, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to track the movement and found himself looking out a window at a small robotic…spider(?) with a camera mounted on its back. Sitting in the tree right next to the window. Camera trained on Izuku. The UA crest emblazoned on the side of the camera was the only thing stopping him from freaking out.

Izuku didn’t realize he’d frozen until Mei backtracked to see what he was looking at. Her irises rotated as she zeroed in on the mechanical apparition. “What do we have here?” After briefly turning the camera to Mei, the little nightmare skittered off into the branches to disappear from sight.

Izuku blinked several times as he processed. “I…think that’s Level 2…”

Izuku explained the game he and Nezu had going while they finished walking to the firing range. By the time they had all of their gear laid out on a table at one end of the range, Mei was already coming up with plans to trap one of the spider cameras. “Mei, that might not be a good idea. I’m not even sure bringing another person in on the game is allowed. It’s not like we laid out rules when this started…”

“Exactly! You gotta use that freedom now, before there are any set rules.”

Izuku hummed. She did sort of have a point. “I’ll think about it. Now, why was Snipe’s gun in need of a tune-up? Is it even safe to fire right now?”

Mei shrugged. “All I heard was him complaining about his shots pulling to the right.”

“Huh. That’s odd. Here, let me see it.” Izuku looked the weapon over, careful to keep the barrel aimed downrange, despite no rounds being chambered. Finding nothing obviously wrong, Izuku used Mei’s tablet to try pulling up the specs on Snipe’s gun. To his surprise, he did have access to the plans. He made a mental note to suggest Nezu add some security features to ensure one of the Development Studio tablets never left the Support wing or was stolen. This had villain bait written all over it.

Shaking off the magnitude of the information at his fingertips, he scrolled through the extensive blueprints and writeup. “Must be connected to the Commission database to have all this…” he muttered.

After a few minutes, he found what he needed: the instructions for use. Loading bullets into the cylinder was surprisingly easy once he knew what he was doing. It didn’t occur to Izuku that the hooks with headphones by the door were there for a reason until he fired the first round. Wow, was that loud in an enclosed space.

Lesson learned, he and Mei put on their noise-canceling headphones and got to work properly. The shots were definitely pulling to the right. Maybe something damaged the rifling inside the barrel? Izuku wasn’t familiar enough with guns to offer a better guess.

Mei’s creations were even more fun to test out, and only one of them exploded while at the range. “So, I’m liking the look of the crossbow, but the bola launcher is very useful too. I’ll have to rework this one,” Mei said, poking the smoking pile of scrap that used to be…some sort of canister launcher with a laser attachment. “Have you tried the flamethrower yet?”

Izuku edged away from the bulky device Mei offered him. “I dunno, the gun was kinda nice. Maybe something with tranquilizer darts. My gauntlets would help with the kickback, I think,” Izuku mused without taking his eyes off the portable fire hazard.

Mei frowned and set the improvised flamethrower aside. “Too soon?”

Izuku offered a smile that looked more than a little like a grimace. “Y-yeah...”

Mei turned Izuku away from the flamethrower by his shoulders and walked him over to the table with the rest of their gear. She flicked the holstered gun. “You know, your aim was pretty good for your first time shooting.”

“R-really? Thanks,” he said, glancing over the rest of the equipment. “I’m not feeling the crossbow, to be honest. Too bulky. The bola launcher might be nice on the drone. I’ll mull it over and get back to you later this week. We should probably get Snipe’s gun back to the lab before Maijima has a stroke thinking he misplaced it.”

Mei laughed. “Yeah, probably should.” She checked her phone. “He’ll be kicking us out of the lab soon anyway, and we still need to clean up.”

With that, they headed back to the Development Studio. Maijima was, in fact, losing his mind as he scoured the room trying to find Snipe’s gun. “You two! Why would you borrow one of my projects, and a gun at that?! What were you thinking?”

Mei and Izuku looked at each other. “Testing purposes?” Izuku offered with a sheepish grin and a shrug. “We only used rubber rounds and recorded the shot data for you. At fifty meters, it’s pulling five centimeters to the right, assuming my aim was decent.”

Maijima rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Ask next time?”

“Sure thing, sensei!” Mei said before racing to put her babies away for the night.

Izuku lingered.

“Midoriya, did you need something?”

“When I pulled up blueprints for Snipe’s gun, I noticed that we have access to at least part of the HPSC’s database,” Izuku started. He paused for a moment. Did he really want to know? Some part of him didn’t, but a larger part was curious. “Do we have access to the quirk registry too?”

Maijima tilted his head to the side slightly. “Students don’t, but I do. Why do you want to know?”

“Is it okay if I run a quick search for something?”

“Tell me what or who you’re looking for, and I might consider it.”

Izuku bit his lip for a moment and glanced to see if Mei was in earshot. She wasn’t. “Hyper-Processing.”

Maijima started and stared at him. “Your quirk?”

Izuku nodded.

A minute later Maijima seemed to catch on. “Oh! Oh. That’s…kid, are you sure you want to know? Even if it was stolen, and we can find its original owner, there’s no way for you to give it back.”

“I understand. I just…want to know for sure. I’ve been wondering for a while.”

“Alright. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Maijima shook his head and sat down at his desk to wake up his computer. He didn’t let Izuku see how he navigated to the registry, but he did let Izuku watch the search once he was there. The quirk name itself brought up nothing, and searching for similar quirks proved equally fruitless. The closest they got were a few electric quirks that allowed for minorly increased speed as a side effect of their electricity generation.

Izuku let out a breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding. Maybe it really was his.

“Well, that’s the quirk registry pretty well exhausted. The Japanese one, anyway. For international, I’d have to play nice with too many organizations Nezu’s on shaky terms with. And if All for One’s as old as people seem to believe, there’s the possibility Hyper-Processing was an early era quirk. Too few people declared their quirks back then, and a lot of paperwork got lost in the chaos.”

Izuku grudgingly nodded. “I mean, can you blame them? The government was hunting down people with quirks at first.” If it was a first or second generation quirk, there was a decent possibility that it had been given to Sensei willingly. Izuku understood all too well the desire to be normal. He would have given anything to get a quirk when he was little. During the emergence of quirks, some had been just as desperate, if not more so, to get rid of their quirk.

It wasn’t an absolute answer, but the only way Izuku could get an absolute was locked up in Tartarus. Izuku would take it for now. Even if Hyper-Processing wasn’t originally his, it was now, and it was as much a part of him as his green hair or love of quirks. And he was going to use everything he had.

---

Mirio stretched as he walked back into the 3-B dorm. Patrol with Sir had run late, and he was ready for a well-deserved nap. First thing’s first though. He unlocked his phone and texted Izuku. “Talked to Sir. He wants to meet you tomorrow after classes let out. Meet by the front gate and bring your costume.”

Izuku texted back a minute later. “Really?! That was fast. See you tomorrow then!”

Mirio smiled at the thought of introducing his mentor and kohai. There was something nagging at him though. Some little seed of doubt or worry, a gut feeling that something was about to go wrong or that he’d missed some sign of danger.

Mirio shook it off. He was probably just tired. He’d been having trouble sleeping lately. Staying asleep was a problem too. He wasn’t even sure why. It wasn’t nightmares, and he didn’t think it was stress. Sure, he only had a semester left before graduation, and his control of One for All was still lacking. But he thought he’d been handling the pressure rather well, all things considered.

Mirio massaged his sore wrist as he climbed the stairs to his dorm room. No visible bruising today, at least. He yawned as he opened his door. A nap seemed to be in order. Then he could worry about his mountain of homework. It wasn’t like he’d be asleep for long anyway.

With that thought in mind, he didn’t bother changing out of his uniform as he flopped onto the bed and buried his face in his pillow. Just a little rest, then he’d tackle Ectoplasm’s math homework. Maybe Amajiki and Hado would want to do it with him. That thought left him grinning as he fell asleep.

This was different. He wasn’t awake, but it didn’t feel like he was asleep either. It was dark, and he couldn’t see all of himself when he looked down. There were big patches of his legs and chest shrouded in wispy darkness that moved with him. There were a few points of light in the darkness when he looked back up. He counted them quickly and found seven, each a different but oddly familiar color.

He felt someone watching him and turned to find an eighth point of light in the darkness, but this one was much, much closer and was resolving into a human shape. And it spoke.

“So, you’re the Ninth…”

Chapter Text

Izuku held his 19th analysis notebook in one hand while the other gripped the pole in front of him, bracing him as the train slowed to a stop. He and Mirio still had another half hour before they were due to reach their stop in Tokyo, and Izuku used that time to review the information he’d been able to gather on the members of Nighteye Agency the night before. Nighteye was an intelligence hero who tended more towards surveillance, sensitive investigations, and collaboration with other agencies rather than spectacular solo battles. So, there was an understandable lack of information, even on the forums Sensei had introduced Izuku to.

Izuku was fairly certain now that most of the people on those sites were illegals of one form or other if the frequent suggestions on fighting and evasion of the heroes under discussion was anything to go by. But, hey; information was information. And if he reassured one person that Centipeder probably wasn’t lethally venomous based on the type of centipede his quirk took after, where was the harm in that? Granted, there was always the possibility of an allergic reaction with a venom involved. The hero seemed far too proper to actually bite someone though.

Izuku shook himself free of that train of thought and glanced up to catch Mirio looking over his shoulder, frowning as he tried to parse the nonsense script in the notebook. Izuku grinned and said, “Nezu’s been teaching me codes. He was worried about another villain getting ahold of my notebooks.”

Mirio’s eyebrows rose as he nodded. “Makes sense. You’ve got a lot written there for not having even met anyone at the agency yet.”

Izuku glanced back down at the page he’d been reading and eyed his crude drawing of Centipeder. Getting all those legs down had taken ages, and it still seemed off. He smiled and flipped the page to show off the much better drawing of Bubble Girl. “I was curious who I’d be working with, and I just really love quirks,” he admitted, blushing slightly. “I wrote down everything I could find online yesterday; so, I wouldn’t waste time asking basic questions. Do you think Sir Nighteye would mind if I asked him a few things about Foresight?”

“You found his quirk online? Sir tries to keep that under wraps to have the element of surprise.”

Great, he made Mirio worry. “Only on one or two forums! Took forever to find them too,” Izuku hurried to reassure his friend. “They didn’t have many details either.”

“Oh, that’s a relief!” Mirio said with a laugh. “But if you want to know something about Sir that you probably won’t find online, its how important a sense of humor is to him. If you want him to like you, you gotta make him laugh.”

“Make him laugh?” Izuku frowned at his notebook, now on Sir Nighteye’s page. The drawing’s severe gaze bored into him. “I mean, between working with you and interning with Ms. Joke, I’d like to say I’m decent at cracking jokes, but most of those are spontaneous. I’m not really good at coming up with something on demand.”

“Who’s Ms. Joke?”

Izuku threw his senpai a disbelieving look. “You’ve never…?” Izuku shook his head. “You know what, no; this can’t stand. Next time we have a free weekend, you’re coming freerunning with me.”

Mirio seemed even more confused. “Okay?”

The rest of the train ride passed with Mirio telling stories about his internship with Nighteye, only half of which Izuku had heard before. Izuku jotted down a few more notes and questions in his notebook, politely half-listening. Mirio was happy to carry the conversation, and Izuku had long since resigned himself to letting others do so.

Izuku frowned as it occurred to him that he was falling back on bad habits. He was so used to no one listening to him back in the States. Things had been different since returning to Japan, but now that he and his…family were out of touch, he defaulted to not trying again. He really needed to find someone to talk quirks with, or at least call his dad regularly. He doubted the staff at Tartarus would let him schedule a visit with Sensei. And calling Tomura was far too risky…unless he could slip away for a few minutes while on his internship. That was an option, he supposed, though the idea of purposely slipping his hero detail made him feel vaguely dirty, like he was being ungrateful. But at the same time…

If things didn’t work out with Nighteye, Izuku decided to consider it. He did not intend to let himself sink into silence again.

Once they exited the train, Mirio was all business as he led the way to Nighteye Agency. It was in an unassuming and unmarked office building on a road with no flashy street signs or stores to recommend it to passersby. It was hidden in plain sight where Ms. Joke’s agency was tucked into a maze of alleyways. At least this approach allowed for a proper street entrance, Izuku supposed.

The front lobby of the agency was equally uninspired. They were greeted by a simple but sturdy receptionist’s desk and seating area, all permeated by the faint scent of mildew that denoted age and water damage somewhere in the building’s past. The receptionist wasn’t a hero—or if she was, Izuku certainly didn’t recognize her—but her calculating appraisal cut like a pro. Her face softened upon seeing Mirio enter the building behind Izuku. “Is this the kohai you’ve been telling us so much about?”

Mirio chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. Is Sir available now? Izuku has an appointment, but we made it here a little early.”

“Hm. Take a seat, Hun, and I’ll check.”

The receptionist returned a few minutes later with a guest id for Izuku and gestured for them to head for the elevator. The second the elevator doors opened, the tired, mildewed office space vanished to reveal an equally old, but better maintained hallway. The offices and conference rooms they passed were outfitted with all the modern tech befitting an intelligence hero.

Izuku waved a silent greeting to Centipeder as they passed his office. Centipeder awkwardly waved back. Izuku didn’t even try to hide his smile as they continued walking. He was still a hero fanboy at heart.

And oh, did that hero fanboy think he’d died and gone to heaven when Mirio opened the door to Sir Nighteye’s office. Each and every space on the walls, filing cabinets, and desk were covered in limited edition—and even some unreleased—All Might merchandise: posters, action figures, every last Christmas snowglobe, even the rug in front of the desk. If Izuku had never cooled it on collecting All Might merch, this display would still have put his to shame.

Izuku basked in the glory of it all for a moment. That moment was abruptly ruined when he heard frantic laughter. Looking to the source, Izuku was faced with Bubble Girl strapped into a…tickle machine? What? And Sir Nighteye was operating it.

Izuku’s face turned scarlet as he averted his eyes. “I could have gone my whole life without knowing that was one of Sir Nighteye’s kinks,” he muttered, wishing he could unsee the last few seconds. He was pretty sure he could hear Tomura cackling somewhere in the distance.

Mirio heard his regret and stifled a laugh of his own, drawing Sir Nighteye’s attention. Thankfully, the hero released his sidekick then. Izuku regained his composure quickly and met the judgmental, yellow gaze of Nighteye. After a tense few seconds of staring, Izuku took a deep breath, embraced a moment of brilliance, and said, “Aren’t you a Foresight for sore eyes.”

Mirio thought he was funny. Nighteye? Not so much. His gaze only narrowed slightly, wary in a way that made Izuku nervous. “So, you are Midoriya Izuku. All Might and Lemillion have certainly had a lot to say about you. I’d introduce myself, but you seem to have already done your homework.” The man held out a hand in a familiar western greeting. It was a little out of place here in Japan, but Izuku didn’t think to question it until he shook the man’s hand and noted a shift in the man’s eye color. Yellow irises turned a faintly glowing purple for a second.

Interesting. So, he needed physical contact to trigger Foresight. Izuku carefully kept himself from frowning or flinching out of the handshake as he wondered what exactly the hero could see and if he ever lost sight of the present while viewing the future. Maybe he had to split his attention between the two? He had plenty of new theories to add to his notebook later.

Nighteye broke eye contact first. He glanced over Izuku’s head to Mirio. “Leave us. I need to discuss some things with Midoriya.”

“Sure thing, Sir. I’ll check in with Bubble Girl.” Mirio gave Izuku an encouraging smile and thumbs up before slipping out of the room and closing the door behind him.

Nighteye straightened his glasses and walked over to his desk, taking a seat there. “So, Midoriya, why are you here?”

Izuku took him to mean why at his agency specifically. The man already knew his class was internship hunting. Izuku straightened and answered honestly. “I was hoping to learn from someone who has been so successful in heroics with a non-physical quirk. I suspect I could learn a lot from your reconnaissance and fighting styles, given similarities in how we approach opponents.” When Nighteye cocked an eyebrow at him, Izuku continued, “Foresight lets you see what a person’s going to do, right? My analyses can help me do the same, at least in the context of a fight. The vast majority of people rely too heavily on their quirk. Figure out how their quirk works, and you figure out how they’re likely to use it and how to counteract it.”

When Nighteye still said nothing, Izuku couldn’t help but take the opening. His building excitement for the topic overrode the small voice in the back of his mind warning him that Nighteye’s silence wasn’t a good thing. “Take…Mirio’s quirk for instance—his original one. His mastery of Permeation protects him from most physical attacks, but someone with knowledge and time to prepare could take a page from Midnight or Mustard and douse the whole area in gas, preferably something that could absorb across mucous membranes and incapacitate him quickly. He can only hold his breath so long. A mental or illusion quirk would be a decent counter too. Permeation does nothing to stop psychic attacks or misdirection.”

Nighteye nodded, expression as stern as ever. “It seems All Might didn’t exaggerate your interest or skill in quirk analysis, though I suppose you did learn from an evil mastermind.”

Izuku’s smile turned brittle and hollow at the words. He met Nighteye’s eyes again and finally recognized the well of hatred and suspicion for what it was. All hope of finding a kindred spirit on his work-study died a swift and merciless death. Stupid! Of course, he thought Izuku was in league with All for One. Why did Izuku expect differently? Outside his family, no one ever believed or listened to him before high school. Just because his classmates and teachers at UA were exceptions didn’t change the rest of the world.

“You may have him fooled, Midoriya, but I see the similarities plain as day.”

Izuku wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or affronted. Or maybe affronted on Sensei’s behalf? Either way, he let his face relax into the neutral mask he’d had to wear all too often in middle school. It was an uncomfortable fit after so long without need for it. “I assure you, my skill in quirk analysis is my own. Sensei helped me refine it, yes, but we were both surprised to discover we shared the interest.”

“I’m sure.” Nighteye’s tone said he was anything but.

Bitter emotion swelled in Izuku’s chest as he battled the impulse to turn around, leave, and never come back. He didn’t deserve this. He wasn’t going to put up with discrimination again. Aizawa or Ms. Joke would be happy to have him. But leaving would be as good as admitting guilt in this hero’s eyes. Some part of him bristled at the thought.

Izuku’s mind raced for another course of action, something that wasn’t caving or giving up on working here. He didn’t notice he’d activated Hyper-Processing until he typed too quickly for his smartphone for it to register. He took a deep breath and forced his quirk to settle. Nighteye had really gotten under his skin.

“What are you doing?” Nighteye asked, blinking in mild surprise at the apparent speed Izuku moved with.

Without bothering to look up from his phone, Izuku replied in a monotone, “Despite Yagi and Mirio’s good opinion of me, you’ve decided I’m in league with All Might’s sworn enemy. Why should you believe anything I say?” He shrugged. “I’m calling someone whose intelligence or integrity isn’t in doubt.”

Izuku took small satisfaction from Nighteye’s stiffened posture.

Izuku finished composing his message and sent it off to Yagi. “Hey, could I get Detective Tsukauchi’s phone number real quick?”

All Might was Izuku’s hero when he texted him the number less than a minute later.

Izuku dialed the number immediately and prayed the man wasn’t in the middle of something. Izuku grinned when Tsukauchi picked up on the third ring.

“Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa,” the man said in the type of flat, but just cheerful enough to be polite, tone only those doomed to a stint in customer service developed.

“Hi, Detective!” Izuku said with his best chipper voice, ignoring the narrow-eyed glare burning into the side of his skull. “Its Midoriya. I asked All Might for your number. Do you have a few minutes to help me with something?”

“Midoriya? What’s this about? Did Subete contact you?” the detective asked, instantly more alert.

“No! No, I haven’t spoken to Tomura since before the training camp,” Izuku answered, carefully skirting around his non-verbal communication with his best friend. He heard a sigh on the other end of the line and continued, “I’m actually interviewing for a work-study with Sir Nighteye, but he has some reservations regarding my relationship with certain persons.”

“Hm. He is a bit of a spook. I take it you need me for my quirk?”

Izuku winced. “I mean, yes? But you’re also extremely trustworthy and already know him. So, he should trust you.” Izuku shot a carefully blank look at Nighteye, silently enjoying how his barb made the man’s glare shift into an actual scowl.

Tsukauchi sighed as if suspecting what Izuku intended with that phrasing. “He’s right there, isn’t he? Put me on speaker, kid.”

Izuku obliged and set his phone on Nighteye’s perfectly ordered desk. He set it at a 30° angle to every stack of documents present on the surface. Nighteye’s scowl deepened. Izuku smiled and distantly wondered if this was a him being done thing or a quirk affecting the user’s personality thing. (And could a given quirk influence a person as much as a natural born quirk?) He had noticed he wasn’t afraid as often now that he could avoid most direct attacks. He couldn’t fully rule out overconfidence from being able to flip Kacchan right after getting Hyper-Processing; dodging half of his once friend’s explosions earlier this week hadn’t hurt either. A quiet whisper reminded him that between Sensei, Tomura, Kurogiri, and his classmates and teachers he had more people who cared to back him up this year than he knew what to do with. He’d never had more than his dad before that. Interesting theories, all. He’d have to think more on the subject later.

“You’re on speaker.”

“Hello, Sir Nighteye,” Tsukauchi started.

Nighteye cocked an eyebrow. “Detective Tsukauchi, I do apologize for Midoriya bothering you.”

“It’s no trouble. I’m just glad I’m talking to him this time without a preceding villain attack.”

Izuku didn’t stop the indignant sound that escaped him in time. It was somewhere between a squeak and a squawk. He felt the red creeping up him neck and glared at the phone.

The detective chuckled. “I suppose I should start by verifying for you both that my quirk works over the phone…”

Izuku grinned. Yes! He had theories about this. “I volunteer! I’m not actually 16; I’m a 40-year-old time traveler who accidentally overshot my target and am stuck like this.” He gestured at himself and tried not to let his eagerness show while he awaited Tsukauchi’s verdict.

“Yeah, that’s a lie. A really big one. Midoriya, please don’t do that again; I’m already getting a headache.”

“Sorry.”

Tsukauchi sighed again, and Izuku pictured him rubbing a hand over his face. “Moving on…what questions did you have, Sir Nighteye?”

Izuku ended up giving his testimony again. He did a lot better this time, considering he wasn’t in shock and had already come to terms with some of the events. Tsukauchi confirmed that Izuku’s testimony was truthful and lined up with what the police had gathered from his dad, Katsuki, and others. Sir Nighteye grudgingly accepted the detective’s word, though the displeasure on his face only seemed to grow the longer they talked.

Finally, Tsukauchi had Izuku turn him off of speaker and hand the phone to All Might’s former sidekick. Izuku was curious what the detective told him, but the only hint Nighteye gave was glancing at him once. After that, Izuku ignored the obvious conversation about him to glance around the office again.

After everything that had happened in the last 30 minutes, the shrine to All Might had lost some of its luster, much like the original after their rooftop discussion. Was it going to be like this with every daylight hero he met? All Might, Endeavor, and Nighteye certainly weren’t all they were cracked up to be. At least All Might was genuine. A bit of an idiot when it came to social interaction and teaching, but genuine. Izuku frowned and wrinkled his nose. He was starting to sound as disillusioned as Tomura. He’d have to contact his friend later. Tomura was sure to find it hilarious that he’d rubbed off on his friend.

Izuku was drawn from his thoughts by Nighteye hanging up and holding the phone out to him. “Thanks,” the teen said reflexively. “So…what now?” If Nighteye still didn’t want him here, Izuku would leave and let the man stew in his cognitive dissonance. Either he’d believe his allies, or he’d prove he didn’t trust anyone’s judgment but his own. He’d believe Izuku was guilty by association and not worth his time, or he wouldn’t judge Izuku before knowing him.

Izuku honestly wasn’t sure which he’d prefer at this point. The part of him that was used to the way people looked at and made snap decisions about him before he got his quirk, the part that was bitter and resigned to not being able to change peoples’ opinions no matter how hard he worked or how much time he put in, dared Nighteye to be the same. Izuku knew how to handle that. He’d spent most of his life learning to. Another part of him…didn’t quite hope—for hope was a fragile and futile thing in such situations—but paused to see if Nighteye might do something else. He didn’t waste time speculating what that something else might be; it was unlikely in any event. But Izuku refused to fall prey to the same temptation of snap judgment that was so often leveled against him. So, he waited.

Sir Nighteye watched him in turn. Eyes studying Izuku’s as the man steepled his fingers in front of his nose and mouth. Whatever those piercing eyes searched for, they seemed to find it. Nighteye eventually closed his eyes and sighed. Looking away from Izuku, the man slid open a desk drawer and lifted a seal to show Izuku. “Do you have your work-study application?”

Izuku blinked in surprise, not breaking eye contact as he pulled the piece of paper from his backpack and handed it over. The hero skimmed the paper while twirling the stamp around his long fingers. He slammed the seal down...on the surface of his desk next to the paper. “Tsukauchi asked that I give you a chance,” Nighteye said as he tapped the seal against the wood of his desk a few more times. “So, I’ll give you one. You have three minutes to take this seal from me and stamp your work study form yourself. Do that, and you’ve secured your place here. Fail, and you leave, never to darken my door again.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Izuku muttered, standing. “Any rules?”

“Quirks are allowed. No serious injuries are to be inflicted. Otherwise, no.”

Izuku smirked. He liked those rules. So many loopholes.

Nighteye stood as well and stepped away from his desk. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he said, “Your time starts now.” The hero’s eyes lit up with his quirk as he focused back on Izuku.

Izuku eyed Nighteye as he pulled on Hyper-Processing. He needed a plan and now. Nighteye had already tagged him with his quirk. He’d be able to see Izuku’s moves before he made them. The question Izuku had was whose point of view Foresight saw events from. Plans pieced themselves together in the space of a few seconds, and Izuku moved.

Nighteye raised one eyebrow when Izuku took the chair he’d been sitting in before and moved it and his backpack and costume case to the office door in a fraction of a second. Izuku wedged the chair under the door’s handle and opened the metal case. He stripped off his uniform jacket and draped it over the chair. He secured his hero suit’s gauntlets to his forearms as he paced back to the middle of the room.

Izuku’s next move was on Nighteye. The teen was unsurprised when the hero dodged, and he kept up the attacks, taking careful note of whether Nighteye actually looked at him before dodging. He didn’t. Izuku smiled. So, Foresight wasn’t based off of Nighteye’s own perspective of the events in question. That was Plan A out.

What about Izuku’s point of view? He’d limited himself to punches up to this point and decided to mix things up. When he attacked next, he closed his eyes before dropping into a sweep while behind the hero. He opened his eyes when his leg didn’t connect. Nighteye had merely stepped out of range, still not looking at him. Didn’t seem to be based on the target’s perception either. Izuku mentally scrapped Plan B. That left…third person? Did Foresight count as a type of astral projection, but into the future rather than the present? Scrying?

“One and a half minutes left,” Nighteye stated, sounding bored.

With difficulty, Izuku forced himself to hold off on theorizing. Regardless of whether he was right or not, the approach was the same. How did one disadvantage an invisible, incorporeal observer? Plan C: even the playing field. He needed to take out the lights. He’d suspected he might have to, but the confirmation was good to have. Izuku kept up his attacks as he maneuvered. And…now! He fired a taser disc at Nighteye.

Nighteye leaned out of the way without bothering to shift his feet. “You missed.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Nighteye’s eyes widened as the taser disc hit an electrical outlet on the wall behind him. There was a spark and a sharp pop before the power went out. Izuku sidestepped the hero in the darkness and walked silently over to where he’d left his costume case. He fumbled for a moment until his fingers brushed it. Then he pulled his helmet on and manually activated the infrared setting. He picked up one of his costume’s boots and crept closer to Nighteye, who was turning his head in attempt to locate him by sound. Both he and the hero ignored a knock at the door asking if they were okay, neither willing to give away their position. The handle rattled, but the door didn’t budge.

Once within arm’s reach, Izuku tossed his boot to land near the wall to his left. Nighteye jerked to face that way, completely missing Izuku fire a taser disc into his side at point-blank range. The hero let out a strangled grunt as he convulsed. Izuku snatched the seal from twitching fingers and silently stepped over to the hero’s desk. He quietly pressed the seal to the indicated box on his work-study form.

Unable to resist a bit of mischief, Izuku then set the seal next to the hero, who was on his knees recovering from being tased. He then crept back over to his costume case and returned his helmet before unbarricading the door. Two beams of light flooded the room as Bubble Girl and Mirio stumbled inside with flashlights.

Izuku gave them a sheepish grin as he blinked spots from his eyes. “Hey, guys. Sorry about the power. One of my taser discs hit an outlet. Probably tripped a breaker.”

“Figured,” Mirio said with a grin. “Centipeder went to go check it out.” Turning his attention to his mentor, Mirio asked, “Are you okay, Sir?”

This left Izuku and Bubble Girl standing by the door. Turning to face the sidekick, Izuku asked, “Can you make bubbles with noble gases in them? If so, and you could find a way to put a low electrical current through the air, you wouldn’t even need a flashlight. You’d essentially have your own neon sign. I guess mercury vapor would work too, but that’s much more harmful to put into the environment.”

Bubble Girl gave him a startled look before appearing to actually consider his words. Izuku restrained himself from rambling further. It was just that her quirk was so cool! It was basically a lovechild of Wash’s and Midnight’s quirks with a dash of Creati thrown in. It had so much potential. He couldn’t wait to see it in action. Could she make knockout gas to take out villains? Vaporized sulfuric acid to melt through barriers? Sedatives? Pheromones might also be an option. Did the bubbles’ composition adjust to remain non-reactive with their contents? Were there complexity limitations on the molecules she produced? Was production based on her knowing a chemical formula like Yaoyorozu, or was it based on something else? And what reserve did she use to produce the gas and bubbles?

Bubble Girl nodded after a moment and gave him a small grin. “I hadn’t considered that. Deku was it? That could come in handy in search and rescue efforts and evacuations. Might not work so well if there’s enough structural damage to be concerned about a gas leak. They’d be amazing for a party though.”

“True.”

The lights flickered back on then. Izuku glanced around the room until he located his boot and went to retrieve it.

Nighteye watched him like a hawk as he held the seal loosely in his fingers. “Time’s up,” the hero said.

Izuku nodded and hummed. “Do I start today, or would you prefer tomorrow?”

Nighteye narrowed his eyes before glancing at his desk. He blinked, then looked back down at the seal he held. Izuku and Nighteye noticed the stamp ink on his right gauntlet’s fingers at the same time.

“Shoot, Mei’s going to kill me,” Izuku said as he turned his hand to survey the stain.

Of all the things he’d said and done today, that was the one to crack Sir Nighteye’s strict façade. A grin twitched his lips as he drew himself up straighter. “You’ll start with patrol tomorrow alongside Lemillion. Bubble Girl and I have some ongoing reconnaissance to tend to, and it seems Centipeder may need to stay at the agency to contact an electrician,” he noted as the lights flickered overhead. “If you two encounter any trouble on your patrol, I want you to report back immediately.”

Izuku gave him another sheepish grin as Mirio and Bubble Girl responded.

“What are you waiting for?” Nighteye asked Izuku with a raised eyebrow. “Get going. Centipeder has the files on the local villains and those we’re currently investigating in his office. I trust you to be familiar with all of them before tomorrow.” The gleam in Nighteye’s eyes was more a challenge than an accusation for once. There was still caution and mistrust in his body language, but the hero was trying.

That was more than Izuku ever dared to hope for, and he wasn’t sure he trusted it. But…he could continue to hold off on judgment for now. Maybe Nighteye would continue to surprise him. Izuku treated Nighteye to one of his blinding smiles and nodded vigorously. “Yes, Sir Nighteye.”

Chapter Text

Izuku poured over so many villain profiles that he dreamed of them that night, and they kept circling in his head as he got dressed and ate that morning. While his classmates milled about the common room or slept in to make the most of their weekend, Izuku met up with Mirio to head to Nighteye’s agency, making it there by midmorning.

He had a work-study with All Might’s former sidekick, got to go on his first real patrol today (the kid-friendly version Ms. Joke had taken him on didn’t count), and had knocked out a chunk of his backlogged homework on the ride over. He had a feeling today was going to be a good day. That should have been the first red flag.

The second red flag was walking into Nighteye Agency as a pair of police officers exited. One of the officers did a double-take when he saw Izuku, and stared until the front door closed between them. “What was that about?” Izuku asked Mirio.

Mirio shrugged. “Sir doesn’t take interns often, let alone two. He was probably surprised or curious.”

That made sense. So, Izuku brushed it off. There were more important things to think about, regardless. Like Mei’s upgrades to his hero suit. This was his first time testing all of them outside the lab. Field tests were always exciting. With his input in the modifications, he was fairly certain there wouldn’t even be any explosions.

Mei had added material to his jumpsuit to protect his neck. The fit was snug once he’d zipped it up, but not uncomfortable. A patch of the same antifriction lining from his gauntlets cushioned the bodysuit where it covered his new scar.

No updates to his gauntlets or boots this time, though he did have a small canister of finished tracker discs to play with. Between Izuku, Mei, and Snitch, the discs had come out near perfect. He loaded a few into his left gauntlet and put a few spares in a pouch on his belt. His right gauntlet was already loaded up with taser discs.

And then there was his helmet. Mei was obsessed with that thing. The infrared blink activation had worked out so well, she’d worked out blink series for most of the other settings as well—and made Izuku memorize all of them. Now there were hand and voice-free controls for the bluetooth connection to his phone, a hidden camera near his right temple that could record or stream what he was looking at, and a Hero Network SOS beacon. Mei had also worked out a way for the helmet to form an airtight seal and act as a respirator in a pinch. That feature only lasted 15 minutes before the filter gave out, but 15 minutes could mean the difference between life and death in a fire or a fight involving a gas quirk like Mustard’s.

Once Izuku registered his helmet with the agency’s network and confirmed there were no issues, he transferred his phone, provisional license, money for lunch, and an energy bar to their assigned places on his utility belt. A quick check of the rest of his belt confirmed his lockpicks, notebook and pen, first aid supplies, binoculars, and spare taser discs were all present and accounted for. He joined Mirio, Nighteye, and Bubble Girl in the lobby a few minutes later.

Sir Nighteye gave him a critical once over before nodding. “You two will do a routine patrol today; Lemillion will show you the ropes,” he said to Izuku.

“Right. Anything in particular we should watch out for?” Izuku asked.

“You read the files on the Shie Hassaikai? If you run into any of the known members, do not engage. We’re trying to stay off their radar while gathering evidence for a case against them.”

“Got it.”

With that confirmation, Nighteye and Bubble left for their surveillance op. Mirio started to leave too, before noticing Izuku wasn’t behind him. The helmeted teen was busy over at the front desk. Mirio joined him as the receptionist handed Izuku a packet of papers. “Here you go, Hun. Should be everything you asked me for yesterday.”

“Thank you.” Izuku dipped in a quick bow before turning to find Mirio looking at the packet with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, sorry for making you wait, senpai. I just wanted to be prepared.”

“What is all that?” Mirio asked as Izuku folded the papers and stuffed them into a pocket.

“Oh, um, list of local social services, quirk councilors…things like that.” Izuku rubbed at the back of his neck.

Mirio stared at him for a moment before beaming. Izuku could understand now why Amajiki always said Mirio was too bright. The dude might actually blind someone with that smile if he didn’t watch it. “That’s a great idea! Wish I’d thought of that when I started interning. You’re something else.”

That something else was a stuttering mess for several minutes, eventually tinting his helmet to hide his embarrassment. Mirio laid off the teasing when they reached one of the more populated streets, turning his attention to surveying the area for trouble and waving at citizens as they passed.

Izuku followed his lead, right up until a group of little kids swarmed Mirio. Cries of “Lemillion!” drowned out Izuku’s own squeak of surprise.

“Hey, kids!” Mirio greeted in kind. His smile grew impossibly big as he knelt to talk to the gaggle of children at eye level. “How are all of you doing? No more fires in art class, I hope?”

“Nope!” One little girl said. “Naoki got medicine for her allergies. No more fireball sneezes!”

Mirio laughed and continued chatting with the kids as Izuku watched from the sidelines, grinning. Kinda made him miss Kota. When a few more passing children joined the small clump around Mirio, Izuku realized they might be here for a while. And Mirio was distracted…

Izuku glanced down at his utility belt, then back up at Mirio where he’s started signing a few autographs. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Izuku ducked into a neighboring alley and walked just out of sight. He leaned against the brick wall and disabled his phone’s bluetooth. Keeping an eye on the mouth of the alley, Izuku took his helmet off and set it by his feet. He found himself smiling as he dialed the number he’d memorized but never entered in his contacts.

Izuku froze as the phone rang. Cold metal pricked the underside of his chin. Welp, there was his third red flag, flaming and strung up on a flagpole. It was going to be one of those days, wasn’t it?

“Hang up,” commanded an unsteady voice behind him.

Izuku ended the call before Tomura picked up. And raised his left hand in a placating manner as he turned his phone to show the person behind him that he’d complied.

“G-good. Now hand over your money,” the man said. Definitely male, scrawny too, if Izuku’s brief glimpse of the guy’s arm was anything to go by. Uncertain of himself, probably not been a criminal for long, likely resorting to it out of desperation or to feed an addiction.

Izuku inclined his head a fraction of a degree and lowered his left hand to the correct compartment on his utility belt. He “fumbled” a few of the bills as he pulled them out. the man’s eyes followed the falling money, and Izuku made his move. He shoved the knife-wielding hand away from him and twisted the man’s wrist until he released the blade. Then he spun around to aim a punch at…

Izuku paused. His would-be attacker was thin, unhealthily thin, but his skin lacked the sickly, sallow quality many addicts picked up. And his clothes looked…like that had been nice once, a few months ago. The man flinched back and closed his eyes, awaiting a blow. Izuku sighed and lowered his fist. Then he set several bills and his energy bar in the man’s hand. When the man dared to open his eyes and stared at his hand in confusion, Izuku curled the man’s fingers around the offering before releasing him altogether.

The man finally seemed to realize what had happened and looked up at him with wide eyes. The open confusion colored with fear again as he took in Izuku’s face. Huh. That was an odd reaction to one of his reassuring grins. Did he accidentally smile like Aizawa or Tomura by mistake?

“You’re that kid!” The guy said helpfully.

“Who?”

The guy’s face paled as he took a step back. “I didn’t recognize you from the back with the, um…” The guy waved a shaky hand at the back of his head. “I can’t believe I almost…The League of Villains has an order out about you. Anyone who hurts you answers to them.”

Izuku took a moment to process that, then another. Then he took a deep breath. “I am going to hunt Tomura down, I swear.” He looked at the sky and rubbed a hand along his chin, distractedly checking to make sure this guy hadn’t nicked him. To the man, he said, “Turns out my childhood best friend is in the League. So, that’s probably why.” Izuku sat down against the brick wall and patted the ground next to him.

Mr. Mugger hesitantly sat as well, just out of arm’s reach. Izuku lightly kicked the guy’s pocketknife back over to him. If the man was living on the streets, Izuku didn’t want to leave him defenseless. Not that a blade that dull would be much help.

Izuku absently picked up his dropped bills while asking, “What brings you here?”

Izuku didn’t make eye contact with the not-quite criminal as he waited for an answer. After 20 seconds of silence, the guy shrugged and looked away. “Company downsized. Cut the quirkless employees in the first round of layoffs.”

Izuku straightened and looked at the almost definitely homeless man. He set the last few of his bills between them. Mirio could spot him for lunch. “My quirk didn’t come in until I was 14,” Izuku offered.

The man looked at him, incredulous. His eyes caught on Izuku’s for a moment, and Izuku gave him a sad half-grin. The man nodded and looked at the wall across from them. No further words were needed on that topic. They both knew.

Izuku pulled slightly crumpled papers out of his pocket and started flipping through them, looking for something. The man tried to hide his curiosity. After a few minutes, Izuku found what he was looking for and took a picture of the page before tearing it free of the stapled packet. He handed the page to his new acquaintance. It was a list of help centers. At the very bottom was a listing for Tokyo’s Quirkless Alliance. Benefits of living in a major city. Somewhere more remote wouldn’t have enough of a quirkless population to support a large organization.

“People generally suck, but there are some out there trying to do good,” Izuku said, tapping the page for emphasis. “Don’t give up hope just yet.”

The man stared at the page as if he’d been handed treasure. He swallowed before meeting Izuku’s eyes again. “Nishi Kichirou,” he introduced himself.

He should have given the man his hero name, but he found himself giving Nishi his civilian one, “Midoriya Izuku.” Izuku gave him an approximation of a bow before he pushed himself to his feet. A thought occurred to him, and he pulled his pocket notebook and pen from his belt. He wrote a number on a page and tore it out to hand Nishi. “Let me know which place works out best for you. So, I’ll know who to recommend next time. I’ll be interning here for a while.”

Nishi took the slip of paper carefully. “Thank you.” The man picked himself up and started to meander down the alley, looking over his shoulder at Izuku once.

Izuku waved before turning away from him. Mirio was probably looking for him, and Tomura was sure to be wondering about his dropped call. Sighing, Izuku shot off a quick text to let Tomura know not to worry or call him back. He’d explain later. Then he deleted his message and call history. He re-enabled his bluetooth connection and slid his helmet back over his head.

As he approached the mouth of the alley, he stopped in his tracks. He spun around to find the alley empty. Izuku should have asked Nishi if he knew anything about the Hassaikai or local villains. “Damn it.”

---

Mirio scolded him for wandering off but didn’t ask where he’d gone, and they went back to patrol like nothing had happened. Aside from the occasional interaction with a curious or fanboying civilian, it was quiet. Some part of Izuku had to wonder if it was because Tomura had warned the underground away from him.

Wait…did that mean that Tomura was operating near here? Surely Tomura wouldn’t give away his position for something so stupid, right? The only other possibilities were Tomura spreading word through Japan’s whole underground, which didn’t seem plausible, or Tomura specifically spreading word here after finding out Izuku was interning in the area. But Izuku hadn’t told Tomura about the work studies yet.

Izuku made a mental note to have Snitch check his phone over for bugs and hacks next time he saw her. Just in case. Sensei had used his phone to track him once, and he didn’t know if Tomura had access to whatever means Sensei had used to do it. If Snitch found anything, Izuku would rip Tomura a new one. If she didn’t…well, that left a mole at UA besides Izuku’s own obliviousness or Tomura being a dumbass. The latter was far more likely. So, he’d probably still rip Tomura a new one.

Which brought him back around to needing to find time and solitude for a phone call. UA was out of the question. Izuku didn’t put it past Nezu to monitor any communications that caught his interest. Plus, Aizawa was sneaky enough Izuku might miss him eavesdropping. Ambiguous and insubstantial text messages were one thing, but if he was going to yell at Tomura, Izuku needed more security. Not for the first time, Izuku chaffed at the safety precautions UA had put in place for him.

Izuku bit into his next takoyaki a bit more aggressively than warranted, and he watched in dismay as part of his delicious lunch fell to the street.

Mirio laughed at him. “Chill, Deku. What’s got you so worked up?”

Izuku swallowed before letting out a huff. “One of my friends is being an idiot.”

Mirio laughed again and waved his kare pan around, somehow not losing a drop of the curry filling. “I’m sure you’ll set them straight. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Izuku grinned. “Yeah.” After another piece of takoyaki disappeared, he said, “Thanks again for lunch, Mirio.”

“No sweat! And when we’re in costume, it’s Lemillion.”

Izuku wondered if him having his helmet tucked under one arm instead of on his head counted as him being in costume, but bit down on that facetious question. He asked a different one in its place. “What about lunch breaks?”

Mirio snorted. “We’re still on the clock.”

“But what about—”

Izuku cut off when something collided with his legs. Or rather, someone. Izuku looked down to see a tiny girl fall on her rump at his feet. All jokes and thoughts of food fled his mind at the panic he saw swimming in her crimson eyes.

He knelt and set his helmet and food aside. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” He asked, already knowing the answer. He took a quick inventory of the girl’s condition while awaiting her response. Long white hair, small horn on the right side of her forehead, no other external indication of her quirk, barefoot with scratched up soles, dirty bandages wrapping her thin arms and legs, worn dress. Did she escape a trafficking ring? An abusive household? A kidnapping? Something worse? Whoever was chasing her, she was terrified.

He slowly held one hand out to the trembling girl. “Can you stand up?”

The girl eyed his hand as if expecting to be hurt. That tore at Izuku’s heart.

Izuku didn’t take his eyes off the little girl as he heard slow footsteps approach. Lemillion shifted and stiffened beside him. The footsteps stopped approaching and a measured voice asked, “Eri, are you causing trouble for the nice hero?”

Izuku caught the way the girl froze at the man’s voice. Izuku fought back a snarl as he lifted his eyes from Eri’s to meet her pursuer’s. Izuku almost froze himself when he found himself face to face with Chisaki Kai, the leader of the Shie Hassaikai. A distant, analytical part of Izuku’s brain thought the guy couldn’t be much older than Tomura. That part of Izuku’s brain also noted the gloves Chisaki wore.

The yakuza boss gave a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and continued, “Sorry for any trouble my daughter caused, hero. She tends to get overexcited while playing and injure herself. It’s a real problem.”

Mirio saved Izuku from having to answer by shoving his helmet back on his head. “You keep forgetting to wear your helmet when on patrol, silly.” Izuku straightened it out as Mirio stepped forward, placing himself slightly in front of Izuku. “We’re the ones that should apologize.”

Izuku missed the next part of the conversation as he focused on the proper blink sequence to activate his helmet’s camera and S.O.S. beacon. Information he’d read yesterday resurfaced in his mind. The man’s quirk and villain name were both Overhaul. There weren’t a lot of specifics in his file, just the quirk registry listing: the ability to disassemble and reassemble matter through touch. The quirk description itself was very…vague, but based on the gloves, Izuku was willing to wager that touch was hand specific or five-point contact like Tomura’s quirk. Either way, the gloves were a formality. They covered all five fingers, which meant he could easily disassemble them. Would it act like Tomura’s Decay? Or could he weaponize what he touched? The police report on the incident with the Reservoir Dogs made it clear the quirk worked on living matter as well as non-living. And he was standing within arm’s reach of one of the alley’s walls and only two steps away from Izuku and Eri.

This man was dangerous, but how quick was he? Izuku found himself carefully not moving his head as he eyed escape routes. His attention was recaptured by the little girl as she gripped the sleeve of his costume and clenched her fist in the material, huddling against his chest. Her voice was so small Izuku almost missed it. “Don’t go…”

Izuku’s mind raced as he glanced between Mirio and Chisaki. Mirio was subtly beckoning him to come away, nervous despite the smile plastered on his face. Very similar to All Might. But unlike All Might, Mirio and Izuku were inexperienced, and they knew it. Chisaki didn’t get to become a yakuza boss so young for nothing. They couldn’t take him in a fight while trying to protect an injured civilian. And there were other civilians around. If they tried to take Eri and run, there were likely to be casualties.

Izuku badly wanted to get Eri away right now…but if even Lemillion with his two quirks was urging him to walk away…Izuku clenched his jaw. How many times had he wished a hero was there to interrupt a round with his bullies when he was little? Damn it! He couldn’t just leave her.

…But he could play it smart.

“Hey, Eri, right?” he asked softly.

The girl looked up at him through her bangs. That was just unfair.

Izuku swallowed and picked up his take out container, moving it to his left hand. “Have you ever had takoyaki before?” With his right hand free now, he reached for his utility belt, moving slowly and keeping an eye on Overhaul.

That same small voice from before answered him, “No…”

Izuku tilted the container to show her the contents. There were only two takoyaki left. Izuku shook the paper box to draw her and Overhaul’s eyes while he slipped a single tracker disc out of its pouch. “Oh, takoyaki’s amazing! It has fried octopus and veggies, and the breading’s just right. Tell you what, my lunch break is up, but you can have these two. You’re probably hungry after playing so much, and I can’t let something so good go to waste, after all.” Much more quietly, he whispered, “Keep this on you, and I’ll find you. I will get you away from him, I promise.” He brushed some of Eri’s hair back from her face, using the movement to hide him slipping the tracker under the collar of her dress. Its adhesive stuck to the fabric, and Izuku silently cheered.

Eri’s eyes widened as she looked at him, and Izuku winked at her through his helmet’s visor. “O-okay…” She seemed unsure, but one glance back at Overhaul—who had started removing one of his gloves—and the little girl sprang into action. She snatched the box of takoyaki and ran over to the man, not glancing back once.

Letting her walk away with that man was one of the hardest things Izuku had ever done, but a hand on his shoulder kept him in place when he wanted nothing more than to move. When the villain and his victim disappeared from sight, Izuku closed his eyes and said, “Tracker activate.” He opened his eyes as the inside of his visor lit up. A small map appeared in the top left corner with a blinking red light.

Chapter Text

Tomura lunged for his phone when it rang for the second time today. Toga got to it before him. “Ooh! Hi, Izukun! Did you miss me? How’ve you been? Get injured lately? Got any pictures?”

Tomura hissed at her as he snatched his phone back, careful not to decay it. “Sorry about her. You seem to have made quite the impression on her at the licensing exam.”

Izuku made a non-committal sound that was almost lost amid the background hum and chatter coming over the call. “I’m sure she’s lovely when she isn’t waving a knife at me, but that’s not why I called.”

Tomura’s eyebrows drew in. Izuku’s tone was a bit tighter than usual. Strained. Did Tomura need to dust someone? “Okay, what happened?”

“You know how UA does work studies with the second and third years? Well, they opened it up to the first years this semester, since most of us have our licenses. Speaking of which, are you seriously operating out of Tokyo right now?”

How the hell did he figure that out? “Uhh…”

“Oh my god, you are,” Izuku groaned. “So, not only did you show my picture to half the Tokyo underworld and warn them off of me, but you gave away your operation’s position to any hero with half a brain. I don’t think anyone’s snitched on you to the pros yet, but some of the cops know. I only found out because I got mugged.”

Izuku was in Tokyo? He got mugged? “Hold up, you what?!”

“Oh, we’re cool. I think he might be my friend now? Anyway, that wasn’t even the worst thing that happened to me today.”

Was it possible to get grey hairs this young? At least they wouldn’t really show up against Tomura’s pale blue. “Did you get another scar or something?”

Izuku guffawed before making a choked sound. The pipsqueak was probably somewhere busy. “Right, right, I haven’t told you about…let me just start with yesterday.”

Tomura listened to Izuku ramble on about his class’s work studies and his farce of an interview with Sir Nighteye. Using the lie detector detective against the pro was a stroke of genius. And then he’d handed the man’s sophisticated ass to him. Tomura couldn’t stop a chuckle from escaping him. Did Izuku seriously not realize how scary he was? He’d taken down All Might (granted the guy had been running on debuffs) and All Might’s former sidekick.

Tomura’s amusement disappeared as Izuku trailed off halfway through describing today’s patrol. He was silent for a moment before asking, “Hey, Tomura?”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever run into a villain with gold eyes and a plague mask?”

The world stopped for a moment. “How?” Tomura croaked out, earning looks from the other villains currently in the garage they called a base. “How on earth did you run into Overhaul? Are you alright? Did he touch you?”

“You know him?” Izuku asked, equally panicked.

“Bastard destroyed one of Magne’s arms with a single touch. Almost got Com—C too before I called them off. I dusted one of his lackeys. Guy’s obsessed with quirks, thinks they’re some sort of disease. Ha! He doesn’t have any issue using his own quirk.” Tomura shook off his anger and his slip, focusing back on his friend who was far too good at finding trouble. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” Izuku said in a small voice. “He w-was hurting someone else though…” With Izuku’s bleeding heart, that was worse. He hadn’t stuttered while talking to Tomura in ages.

Tomura waited patiently, knowing Izuku would get there when he was ready.

After the screech of a braking train in the background quieted, Izuku continued, “There was a little girl. Eri. She was hurt and terrified and running from him. I know that Mir—Lemillion and I couldn’t have hoped to beat him, but I feel like I should have done something more, something besides slipping a tracker on Eri and letting them walk away.”

The frustration in Izuku’s voice made Tomura clench his teeth in sympathy. That helpless fury of watching Overhaul walk away while Twice and Toga held Magne still for Dabi to cauterize her stump of an arm returned, and Tomura shifted his grip on his phone to avoid decaying it. That scream had haunted a few sleepless nights already, but Tomura was intent on turning that hatred into action. Overhaul was going to pay one way or another.

Izuku made a sound that might have been a cynical laugh or an aborted sob. “I promised her I’d get her away from him, asked her to hold on just a little longer. I hate that I had to say that. I thought training to be a hero meant I was done being helpless. Lemillion and Nighteye keep telling me I did the right thing, but it doesn’t feel like it. I feel awful. I know what it’s like to be left without rescue, to have people just walk by ignoring—”

Those words brought up unpleasant memories for Tomura. He’d wandered the streets for hours or days with no one stopping to help him. No one until Sensei. Tomura growled and cut Izuku’s guilty rambling short. “Then keep your promise!” he bit out. “Make good on your word and save her. Don’t be like the rest of those useless, hypocritical heroes and actually do something!”

That seemed to snap Izuku out of it. “I—I will. There’s a meeting tomorrow. Pretty sure we’re planning a raid. We already have the location. I just…don’t like thinking about what Overhaul’s doing to Eri in the meantime. And what if he finds the tracker? What if he manages to slip away with her? There’s a chance they won’t even let me join the raid because of rumors that the League’s involved with the Hassaikai,” Izuku accused.

Tomura scoffed. “Involved? No. Playing nice while plotting revenge? Yes. Don’t worry about us. I think T and Double T will be more than willing to ensure Overhaul winds up in custody. What condition he’ll be in I can’t guarantee. No one hurts one of my people and gets away with it,” Tomura snarled, gripping an empty take out cup that had been sitting next to him, imagining Chisaki’s smug face on its disintegrating surface.

Izuku laughed a genuine laugh. “Why did I know you’d say something like that?” he asked with warmth.

Gods, Tomura wished Izuku was next to him. He wanted to ruffle his hair and shove his sappy face.

A contented silence followed. Izuku finally broke it, voice barely above a whisper, “I miss you, Tomura.”

Tomura swallowed around a lump in his throat and said, “Yeah, I miss you too, pipsqueak. You know, you’re always welcome here if the heroes ever get boring. You might have to beat Toga off with a stick though.”

Izuku snorted. “I know, but I do still want to be a hero. A good one. I’m starting to realize just how rare those are.”

“You will be,” Tomura said, all seriousness. Then he grinned. “But not if you get caught talking to one of Japan’s most wanted.”

“Oh really? Who’s that?” Izuku asked. Tomura could practically see his friend’s shit-eating grin. “Don’t worry. I’m on a train. Asked Lemillion to give me some privacy for a phone call.”

Tomura rolled his eyes. “One of the gullible ones?”

Izuku actually seemed offended when he countered, “No! He just…doesn’t think I have any bad intentions. So, why ask about something sensitive?”

“So, very gullible.”

“Tomura!” Izuku whisper-yelled.

Tomura tried to hold back his snickers and failed.

Izuku joined him, snorting at one point. That just set them off even worse. When they both had themselves under control again, Izuku sighed. “I have to go. My stop’s coming up. But…there’s one more thing I wanted to tell you.”

“Oh?”

After a few moments of suspenseful silence Izuku managed to find his words. “I…understand why you didn’t tell me.”

Tomura didn’t have to ask what Izuku meant. There was only one secret he’d kept from his best friend.

“It hurt. It still hurts, but I understand you and Sensei and Kurogiri were trying to protect us. And…I forgive you.”

Tomura’s chest hurt. He wanted to say he was sorry, but he couldn’t bring himself to spit the words out. Maybe because they would have been a lie.

“Tell Kurogiri I said hi?” Izuku asked after the silence got to be too much.

“Sure.” Tomura was able to force that word past his lips, at least.

“Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

The line went dead, and Tomura sat there for a long moment, still holding his phone to his ear. He blinked a few times before sighing and lowering it.

He didn’t realize he’d been staring off into space until Spinner cautiously stepped into his line of sight. “You okay, boss?”

Tomura put on an annoyed face and stared the resident lizard man down. “I’m fine.” He straightened up and shoved his phone into a pocket. “Where are Toga and Twice? I have a side quest for them.” After all, Izuku counted as one of Tomura’s people too.

---

Izuku parted ways with Mirio as he approached his dorm. Judging by the soft smile on his friend’s face as he looked at his phone, Mirio was off to meet up with Tamaki. Izuku grinned thinking about those two. They were close.

Izuku’s grin fell as he wondered if he’d ever be that close with any of his classmates. Shinso was probably the closest, though he could see getting there with Todoroki or Iida someday. Uraraka was pretty great too. There was still some awkwardness between him and most of his class after…everything, but things had been closer to normal after the licensing exam. There were fewer cautious pauses in conversation and sideways looks, at least.

Izuku came out of his musing to find himself staring at the door of 1-A’s dorm. He took a deep breath and let it out before pushing it open. The common room was fairly empty for it being early afternoon. Ashido was twisting Kaminari’s hair into a series of small braids while the blonde played a video game with Kirishima. Tokoyami was off in one corner reading, and someone was poking around in the kitchen. Based on the heavenly smell, his bet was on Sato.

Izuku was about to retreat to his room to knock out more of his homework when he looked at Ashido and Kaminari again. He had an idea. “Hey, Ashido?”

“Oh, hi, Midori!” she called. She shifted her hold on Kaminari’s hair to free one hand to wave. “Where’ve you been?”

“Just got back from my internship. Out of curiosity, would you still be interested in messing with my hair? I think it’s finally time to cut it, but I can ask Kayama-sensei if you’re busy.”

Ashido gave Izuku a huge smile that reminded him of Hatsume when she had an idea and abandoned Kaminari’s half-done hair to jump to her feet. “Yes!” she yelled, making Tokoyami jolt in his chair and Dark Shadow hiss and poke his head out from under the teen’s arm to see what was happening.

Kaminari half-heartedly complained as Ashido bolted for the elevator, but the pink-skinned girl waved him off. A few minutes later Ashido and Hagakure returned with a bag full of…Izuku wasn’t sure what half the things in there were, but apparently, they were all necessary to “do this right.” The girls snatched a chair from one of the tables and commandeered the girls’ restroom for their makeshift salon.

Izuku watched amusedly as Ashido and Hagakure dragged Tokoyami’s chair—with Tokoyami in it and valiantly pretending not to notice—to rest beside the bathroom door. “Okay, Dark Shadow, can we trust you to warn anyone coming here that we’re inside working on Midori’s hair? Don’t want anyone being surprised.”

“I got it.” Dark Shadow gave a thumbs up and preened when Hagakure patted his head. Tokoyami hid a grin behind his book.

“Alright, Midori, in you go!” Ashido said, grabbing his arm. She and Hagakure were stronger than they looked, dragging him into the girls’ room without difficulty.

Izuku tried not to look around too much as hands on his shoulders shoved him down into the chair positioned in front of a mirror. A bedsheet was draped around his shoulders, and the girls grumbled about helmet hair for a minute before deciding they’d have to wash his hair before doing anything else, despite protests that he’d washed it this morning.

Eventually, Izuku gave up and let Ashido and Hagakure do what they wanted. If he got a free head massage out of this, what was there to really complain about? He relaxed as one of them shampooed his hair over the sink and let himself zone out.

Izuku didn’t open his eyes again until they turned on the clippers. He hadn’t quite fallen asleep, but he also had no idea when Jiro and Uraraka had joined them. He blinked his eyes a few times as he looked between the four. Jiro had the clippers and was eyeing his hair thoughtfully. Uraraka was frowning and muttering something about his curls.

“The curls will grow back. I just want my hair even again.” And different enough that half the villains in Tokyo won’t recognize him on sight.

Jiro nodded, as if he’d confirmed what she was already thinking, and got to work. Much hushed debating and more loudly repeated instructions for Izuku to keep his eyes closed later, the sheet was pulled away. “All done, Midoriya,” Jiro announced.

“Open your eyes,” Hagakure said. She was bouncing in place if Izuku was reading the vibrations in the floor right.

“Okay.” Izuku opened his eyes. It wasn’t as bad as he expected. Frankly, he’d thought his hair would look more like Inasa’s (which was an awful prospect, but practicality and Izuku’s desire to mess with Tomura outweighed his dislike for the Shiketsu student). It wasn’t long enough to start properly curling yet, but several places were less than straight. It almost looked like the girls had tried to model it after Iida’s haircut, leaving the hair slightly longer up top, since they knew Izuku wanted to grow his hair back out into its bushy glory as soon as possible.

He smiled at his reflection, reminding himself to have his phone’s camera on when he met up with Mirio tomorrow. “Ladies, it’s great. Thank you.” There was only one thing left to do now. “So…who’s going to record everyone’s reactions when I walk out?”

Jiro and Ashido both smirked and held up their phones.

“Sweet. Head on out. I’ll exit in two minutes.” Once alone, Izuku raised his phone to get a top down view of his hair. He doublechecked the photo to make sure it didn’t show his face before texting it to Tomura with the caption. “This is your fault.”

The response was almost immediate. “What did you do?!?! Not the fluffy curls!”

“It’s a shame no one will recognize me now…”

“…Okay, I deserved that. Very funny. Seriously though, where’d you find someone with the same shade of hair as you?”

Izuku stifled a laugh and locked his phone, deciding to let Tomura wonder for a little while longer. Revenge secured, Izuku left the quiet of the bathroom.

Most of his class plus Aizawa seemed to have turned up while he was getting his hair cut, and they did not disappoint. The reactions were a mix of speechless shock, a few chokes, and what had to be the strangest face Izuku had ever seen on Katsuki’s face. He was staring at Izuku like he’d grown a second head and blasphemed the greatness that was All Might.

“Problem child, why?” Aizawa asked, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

“A friend forced my hand.”

Chapter Text

This wasn’t quite how Shota had envisioned Midoriya snapping, but a drastic change in hairstyle was certainly less destructive than Bakugo’s picking a fight after curfew. Even when having some form of a breakdown, the problem child was polite to a fault. He never inconvenienced anyone. Shota still wasn’t convinced this habit of people pleasing (or at least refusing to provoke) was a good thing. Did this kid ever get angry? Not on someone else’s behalf, but for himself.

Then there was the matter of what had caused Midoriya to snap. Shota’s eyes narrowed as he contemplated whether he should have approved the problem child’s work study with Sir Nighteye. The hero had done well with Togata, but Midoriya was as different from the third year as Hizashi was from Nemuri.

Shota shook his head as he walked back toward the teachers’ dorm, another uneventful shift of campus patrol completed. He stopped when he caught a hint of green out of the corner of his eye in a place it shouldn’t be. He sighed and turned to better glare at Midoriya where he sat on the roof of the 2-A dorm. “Problem Child, what are you doing up there?”

Midoriya startled and looked around before spotting him. He flushed slightly and gave an answer too quiet to hear.

Shota rolled his eyes and used his capture weapon, a lamp post, and a tree to join the kid on the roof of the abandoned dorm. It would have belonged to Shota’s class from last year if they hadn’t earned their expulsions. He still got a headache thinking about that class. At least this year’s students made the headaches they caused worthwhile.

Shota sat on the roof next to his problem child and examined him out of the corner of his eye. Midoriya hadn’t gone roof lounging in a while. Thinking about it now, Shota wasn’t sure if he had done it at all since his friends had moved into the dorm with him. But something had driven him up here despite the proximity of his friends.

And Midoriya wasn’t just lounging this time. He’d brought one of his notebooks with him and was partway through a sketch of a little girl in a dress. Most of the figure was still roughly sketched, but her face and eyes were finished. She was pleading, terrified, and desperate.

Shota frowned. “Want to talk about it?”

Midoriya tightened his grip on his pencil for a moment before flipping the notebook page to reveal another drawing, this one complete.

Shota knew the person this one represented. He’d come up more than once recently in his “talks” with captured drug dealers. Overhaul.

“What do you do if you can’t save someone?”

Shota blinked and tore his eyes away from the villain’s uncanny likeness to meet Midoriya’s eyes. Or try to. Midoriya was staring down at the roof.

Damn it. This class just had to learn all of their lessons early, didn’t they?

Shota turned his eyes away from Midoriya, surveying the campus instead. He took a steadying breath, recalling too many cases gone wrong: domestic abuse, reaching a villain attack a minute too late, rushing an overdosed kid to the hospital only for them to die in the ER. Oboro. “You acknowledge your mistakes, accept them, learn from them, and keep trying.” He set a hand on Midoriya’s shoulder. He waited until his problem child met his gaze before adding, “And accept that not everything is your fault. Sometimes there’s nothing you can do.”

Midoriya flinched under Shota’s hand and dropped his gaze.

“What happened?”

Midoriya looked up at him for a few seconds, green eyes somewhere between nervous and hopeful. “Am I allowed to tell? Nighteye’s cases are confidential…but you are my homeroom teacher,” he said, more to himself than Shota.

Shota raised an eyebrow. His student was willing to talk? Today’s surprises knew no end. “And as your homeroom teacher, I am privy to the details of your internships should I request them. That’s part of the reason the pool of heroes willing to take work studies this year is so small.”

Midoriya’s eyebrows shot up at that detail. “That…makes a lot of sense. Good for security and accountability, but a lot of agencies wouldn’t want to have to deal with all the extra paperwork. Or Nezu getting his paws on their data.”

Shota huffed a small laugh. “Yeah, that too.”

His student twirled his pencil as he sorted his thoughts. “So, I went on my first patrol today with Lemillion, and things were going great. Then Eri ran into me, and Overhaul was chasing her, and—” Izuku froze mid hand-gesture to narrow his eyes at something in the tree next to the building.

Shota scanned the tree and quickly spied the small camera bot. He was aware of the “game” Nezu and the problem child were playing, and thought that while it was a useful exercise in situational awareness, the whole thing had grown to ridiculous proportions. Shota threw the robot a pointed glare, and it scuttled off.

Midoriya shook himself and glanced between the tree and Shota a few times. “As uh—I was saying…”

“You met Overhaul and had to let him take Eri?” A pained scrunching of the kid’s face was all the confirmation Shota needed. He moved his hand from Midoriya’s shoulder to ruffle his hair. The gesture felt wrong with how short that hair was now. It still seemed to work for calming the kid down though.

Midoriya relaxed a bit, and his expression shifted to rest somewhere between resigned and determined. “We couldn’t have taken him, and there were too many civilians around. But I did get a tracker on Eri.”

Shota blinked. Since when were trackers part of Deku’s costume kit?

“Nighteye’s setting up for a raid. Not sure when it’ll be though.”

Shota nodded. “You’ll get her out of there. Nighteye has a lot of contacts in the police and is a good hero.”

Midoriya’s normally expressive face went blank as he said, “He…does good work.”

Shota’s eyebrows furrowed. While he didn’t claim to know all of his students’ interests, he did know that Midoriya loved quirks and heroes. He should be drooling over Foresight, let alone the former and only sidekick of All Might. “Not a fan anymore?” Shota asked.

Midoriya shrugged and said, “I’m withholding judgment for now.”

In two days’ time this kid had gone from excited about meeting his work study mentor to…this. “What did he do?” Shota knew letting the problem child get further involved with All Might’s circle would only lead to trouble. He should have suggested he join Shinso.

Problem child fidgeted with his pencil and the pages of his notebook as he looked away. “He was…biased.” He went on to describe his “interview” and Nighteye’s test.

Shota barely kept his anger off his face. Midoriya did not need or deserve the way Nighteye had acted. He was frankly surprised the kid had decided to stick it out at that man’s agency. And he was impressed with how quickly he’d neutralized the pro’s advantage and made one of his own. “Good move taking out the lights and solid capture technique. His pride can stand to be taken down a notch or two.”

That got a small grin out of Midoriya. “And, if after rescuing Eri you don’t want to continue working with Nighteye, I can file the paperwork to transfer you.” Said paperwork was a pain in the ass. Work studies were meant to be commitments, akin to the contracts pros signed when joining an agency as a sidekick. But misconduct and a toxic work environment more than justified the extra hoops and headaches.

“Thanks, Aizawa-sensei. I’ll think about it.” Midoriya sighed. Something was still bothering him.

Shota took a guess. “Upset he’s not going to actually train you?”

“Partly. I’d hoped that an intelligence hero would be into analyzing quirks, but he’s…” Izuku struggled for a word to covey the mix of idiot and blind that Nighteye seemed to have fallen prey to.

“Hm. At least you have Nezu for that.”

Midoriya started to scrunch up his nose before making his face blank again. “Yeah.”

Once was a fluke. Twice was concerning. Had Shota seen him do that before? Maybe the first day quirk assessment, though he could have sworn there was frustration and anger then. This was completely masking his emotions, similar to what Todoroki did, and that was not a reassuring comparison.

Shota glanced around. Nezu had cameras all over campus, but there were stationary cameras on each dorm’s entrances—both ground floor and roof. Midoriya’s game with Nezu was sure to have made him aware of that fact. Did he not want Nezu to hear or see what he really thought?

Maybe he was tired and wanted this conversation to wrap up. Maybe he wanted to make full use of this strange openness to let Midoriya get everything out that he’d bottled up. Maybe he was tired of seeing his students hesitant to speak their own opinions or have their own emotions. Maybe he liked the idea of harmlessly annoying his chimera of a boss. Regardless of the reason, Shota lifted his capture weapon from his shoulders and plopped the loops of carbon fiber and metal alloy around his problem child’s neck.

After a surprised jolt and muffled yelp, Midoriya freed his face of the few loops that hadn’t settled properly. He shot Shota an extremely confused look.

“Do you know why I always wear my capture weapon, Midoriya?”

“To always be prepared for a situation?”

“Yes, but it also makes a convenient way to hide my facial expressions.”

Midoriya’s eyes widened marginally. He got it. Smart kid. Problem child tilted his head down and shuffled some of the capture weapon’s loops to hide his lower face. He kept his voice low, barely above a whisper as he asked, “Like this?”

Shota nodded.

After a few seconds of thought, Midoriya started talking again. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the Principal. He’s done a lot for me, and he’s really smart. But he’s…a teacher.”

Shota wondered if he should be offended.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with teaching. It’s just…he kinda starts ‘lecturing’ whenever we talk quirks. I get maybe three sentences in, and then he’s off.” He paused, seeming to wrestle with something. “I—I miss actual conversations about quirks.” He exhaled heavily. “If it’s really this rare, I can see why Sensei thought it was because of my quirk at first.”

This was going to require more thought to approach. Shota probably understood more of the subtext there than Midoriya intended. He’d try to tactfully tell Nezu to lay off on the lectures. As for finding him someone just as interested in quirks as him—and All for One—to talk to, there were a few people he could ask. Unfortunately, the specter of All for One was even more likely to make actual analysts wary of or hostile toward the kid than it was with pro heroes. Analysts kept files, archives, vaults of data. Data that would look like an all you can eat buffet to the Lord of the Criminal Underworld. The fact that said Lord was currently in Tartarus did nothing to decrease peoples’ fear of him. Intelligent people, at least.

“You’ll find someone to give your brain a run for its money one of these days. After all, there’s already three of you in Japan that we know of.” He earned a small laugh for that. “And in the meantime, if you ever need an ear and it’s a reasonable time,” Basically, any time not designated for a nap. “I’d be willing to listen to an analysis or two.”

Midoriya lifted his face out of the capture weapon to scrutinize Shota. He nodded and slipped the support gear off over his head to hand back. “Here. It’s weird being able to see you grin.”

Shota scoffed, and they settled into a comfortable silence for a while after that. Midoriya sketched, and Shota rested his eyes, keeping one ear trained on the kid in case he decided to share anything else. When the scratch of pencil on paper tapered off, Shota stretched and glanced over to see the drawing of Eri was finished, bandages and all. Midoriya was gazing absently at it, mind somewhere else.

Shota hoped the kid wouldn’t keep himself up all night overanalyzing the what happened today. In the meantime, it was best not to let him stew. It was getting late anyway. “Come on, problem child. Dinner time.”

Midoriya didn’t startle for once; he instead pulled his phone out and blinked at the time. He went to close his notebook but paused to look over the blank page next to Eri’s drawing. He let it fall fully open again and wrote what Shota assumed to be her name in code at the top. The determination that flickered in Midoriya’s green eyes gave away what it really was. A promise to one day fill that page with an analysis on the girl and her quirk. And she had to be rescued for that.

Shota watched him a moment longer before reaching a decision. “Have you ever had chicken fried steak?”

Midoriya threw him a confused look. “No?”

Shota hummed. “Well, that’s easily remedied. Snipe’s cooking tonight. You’re more than welcome to join us if 1-A is too Plus Ultra.” After everything today entailed, Shota imagined the kid could use some (relative) peace and quiet.

Problem child started to smile before catching himself. He snapped his notebook shut and hopped to his feet. “You’re a lifesaver, sensei. It’s Kaminari’s turn to cook, and he always burns something. Last time it was the miso soup. Even Iida and Yaoyorozu couldn’t figure out how he managed that.”

Shota snorted. “Spare me the dramatics, kid.” Stepping up to the edge of the roof, he asked, “Need a lift or—?”

The brat sprinted across the roof to throw himself at the tree half a story below them. Shota rubbed his eyes and let himself down in a more logical manner. He heard a curse and the clink of metal hitting something. The problem child had just tried to grab the camera bot they’d seen earlier. This kid…

Once both of them were on solid ground, they headed for the teachers’ dorm. After a minute, Midoriya turned to him. “You just invited me so you could see Yagi and Yamada choke on their food when they see my haircut, didn’t you?”

Shota smiled.

Chapter Text

Hitoshi narrowed his eyes at Aizawa as the pro materialized out of the darkness. As per usual, he was right on time. What made Hitoshi suspicious was the uncommonly obvious smirk on his face.

“Did you win a bet with Yamada or something?” Hitoshi asked as he fell into step beside the hero.

“Not quite. Just thinking about something.” And Aizawa being Aizawa, Hitoshi knew he was getting no more information out of him.

Hitoshi rolled his eyes and adjusted his artificial vocal cords to sit more comfortably over his mouth and nose as they approached the gate. Aizawa raised his goggles from around his neck to cover his eyes. They passed through the gate and headed for “Aizawa’s favorite alley” as Hitoshi had mentally dubbed it. It sat between some apartment and office building. He almost always defaulted to this alley for climbing onto the rooftops at the start of a patrol or descending back to street level at the end of one. The fire escape was well oiled and near silent whether they used their capture weapons to scale it or more conventional means.

Aizawa stood underneath the fire escape and waited. Hitoshi sighed and flung his capture weapon out to catch the railing a floor up. He had yet to make it the entire way up without either getting tangled or missing a throw at some point. Until he did it perfectly—and did it consistently—Aizawa was his spotter.

Getting used to the feel of the odd tickle at the edge of his senses had been an experience. Apparently, the support department had performed some witchcraft to make the capture weapon vaguely connect with his quirk. Frankly, Hitoshi was too terrified to ask how, and he wasn’t dumb enough to do so with Mei practically living in the Development Studio anyway. Zuku might be perfectly fine getting roped into that girl’s experiments, but Hitoshi wasn’t quite so explosion-proof. And he valued his life.

The fact of the matter was, as long as Hitoshi left his quirk active, the capture weapon was more responsive, and he had more of a sense of where it was in relation to him. It was…really odd. Awesome, but odd. He’d had to get used to just letting his quirk simmer too. Normally, he purposely kept it “off” unless he wanted to snag someone. Over the last few weeks on campus where he was allowed to have his capture weapon with him 24/7 he’d stopped shutting his quirk down constantly. He just didn’t pick up any of the connections littering every conversation he had with his friends or teachers.

As an odd side effect of that, he’d discovered those threads remained available for him to grab for a few seconds before fading. And while they were there, he could tell where their connected person was with about the same accuracy as his capture weapon. Nothing groundbreaking, but interesting. It made Hitoshi wonder what else he’d missed. Izuku was going to flip his shit when Hitoshi finally told him.

He hadn’t even been the one to notice the other side effect of his more relaxed quirk usage. Recovery Girl had asked him if he needed to refill his migraine medication a few days ago, and he realized he’d only gone through a quarter of the bottle that usually lasted him a month.

Sadly, his insomnia was unaffected. Life was just like that sometimes. Maybe it was a mental quirk thing in general? Aizawa certainly seemed to fit the bill, and he’d caught Izuku awake at odd times before. Though the latter’s case might be more attributed to the occasional nightmare or bought of anxiety. Eh, he’d throw the theory at Zuku next time he found him lurking in the kitchen at an ungodly hour.

Tonight was one of Hitoshi’s “couldn’t sleep if he tried” nights, which worked out fine. The patrols Eraserhead took him on ran into the early morning anyway. Unfortunately, this was the third night in a row he couldn’t sleep, and Hitoshi hadn’t yet found a balance with napping during the day. As if his insomnia would allow him the luxury. Hitoshi made it halfway up the fire escape before his fingers slipped, and he lost one end of his capture weapon. He caught himself on the fire escape two meters down and scrambled back up, momentarily more alert from the adrenaline and pain. If he hadn’t wrapped his hands and wrists before meeting up with Aizawa, that definitely would have tweaked something.

Eraserhead appeared beside him before he reached his capture weapon. The unspoken “Are you okay?” was answered with a nod. The rest of the climb went without a hitch, and Eraserhead and Iwazaru stood on the roof overlooking Musutafu a few minutes later. Hitoshi stifled a yawn and started to ask which route they were taking this time.

Eraserhead cut him off. “Why didn’t you sleep today? It’s the weekend.”

“Not all of us can fall asleep at the drop of a hat,” he grumbled. “The schedule change messed with my insomnia. I have something I can take,” Hitoshi admitted and wrinkled his nose. “But it knocks me out for at least eight hours, and I feel groggy and off the rest of the day.”

Eraserhead hummed before taking off headed south, toward one of the poorer parts of the city. Hitoshi followed, pulse picking up as he took the first jump between buildings. After 30 minutes of silent leaps and capture weapon swings, the buildings were older and the streets darker. They paused atop an abandoned construction site, and Eraserhead turned to face him. “Take your meds when we get back. The other students enrolled in work studies are taking make up classes in the evenings. You can afford to miss a few morning classes after night patrols and join them. If the side effects don’t get better, Recovery Girl might have something else you can try.”

Hitoshi absently nodded, gobsmacked that Aizawa was telling him to skip class. Not that he was complaining. It did seem a bit unreasonable that everyone else got to actually sleep at night and skip classes to do their work studies when he did his work study on top of a full day’s worth of classes, but he hadn’t thought to actually bring up the issue to anyone. He knew he was behind the others. Yes, he was officially in 1-A now, but he had so much catching up to do. It made sense he’d have to work harder than anyone else to get there. Being given permission to not run himself into the ground to bridge that gap was a weight off his chest.

A shout and the sound of shattering glass saved Hitoshi from having to reply, and Eraserhead and Iwazaru took off again.

Several misdemeanors and a passed out drunk later had the pair walking into Aizawa’s favorite coffee shop for their mid-patrol pick-me-up. Hitoshi tried not to fall asleep where he leaned against the front counter but only snapped back to full wakefulness when someone called out to Aizawa.

“Yo, ‘Raserhead.”

Aizawa’s hand twitched, and he turned to face the man with dark hair and sideburns who had just entered the shop. Hitoshi looked the guy over skeptically, but remained relaxed when his teacher straightened, clearly recognizing the man. If he wasn’t reaching for his capture weapon the guy wasn’t a threat. For all he looked like a punk.

“You were in Naruhata,” Aizawa said by way of greeting.

The man pouted. “Wow, you don’t even remember my name. It’s Namimaru, by the way. That hurts, but I suppose I’m not too memorable next to the likes of Pop and Knuckle, huh?”

Aizawa ignored the dig and asked, “What are you even doing here?”

Namimaru’s face fell, and he glanced away. “Taking care of Mom. Hospice. My bro’s got the day shift, and I watch over her at night.” He held up the small plastic bag dangling from one wrist. “Picking up one of her meds.”

Aizawa’s posture loosened, and his voice lost the annoyance that usually colored it when interrupted on patrol. “My condolences. How are things with the others?”

“Eh, they’re okay. Busy. Some mook’s been supplying dealers with Trigger again, but not as organized or high quality as the Factory. There’s something else too…” The guy trailed off and glanced at Hitoshi.

Aizawa glanced back at him as well, thinking for a moment before sighing. “Iwazaru can be trusted. He’s going underground too.”

Namimaru nodded, and a few minutes later found all three nursing caffeinated drinks at a corner table with a good view of the entrance. Namimaru glanced around one last time before continuing, “Someone’s been hyping up these…bullets, ya dig? Not like hollow points or anything like that, but they damage quirks.”

Hitoshi and Aizawa both stiffened at that. Was it some sort of suppressant? The pit in Hitoshi’s stomach told him it was something worse. Apparently, Aizawa shared his sentiment, as the teacher had pulled a small notepad and pen from his utility belt and started jotting down notes.

“Didn’t hit Naruhata’s market until this summer, but they’re fast sellers. Pricey too. Saw a few in action when some thugs got into it with another gang last month. Not sure what drug the things use, but they knock a quirk out of action quick as a glare from you,” he said, pointing at Aizawa with his cup. “Not sure how long the stuff lasts. Police and HPSC bigwigs have been all over anyone trying to look into it.”

Aizawa narrowed his eyes and nodded, making one final note on his pad before flipping it closed. “Thanks for the information. Out of curiosity, have you heard of any yakuza activity in Naruhata?”

“Nah, not since the Abegawa Tenchu Kai. Why?”

“I might have a lead,” Aizawa said, making Hitoshi raise an eyebrow. Eraserhead didn’t hand out information about ongoing cases lightly. “I’ll investigate it further. If you hear any of our…mutual acquaintances are going after this, warn them off. If I’m right, he’s extremely dangerous.”

Namimaru frowned. “You know well as I, that won’t slow them down, ‘Raser, but I’ll warn ‘em all the same.”

Aizawa nodded and handed the man a slip of paper. “Feel free to contact me if anything else comes up.” Then he stood to dispose of his empty cup. “Iwazaru, time to go.”

The rest of their patrol went smoothly, and they worked their way back to campus under the lightening sky. Aizawa had been sending messages on his phone periodically after the coffee shop encounter, and his phone buzzed once more as they drew within sight of UA’s front gate.

Hitoshi had stopped wondering about the messages a few hours ago to focus on putting one foot in front of the other until he could reach his sleeping pills and bed. Those sounded really nice right about now. Sadly, the universe was a cruel mistress hellbent on making him suffer.

“Change of plans, kid. Try to take a nap, but don’t take your meds yet. We’re attending a meeting in a few hours. No patrol tonight. You can sleep then.”

“Meeting?” Hitoshi asked despondently. He looked over his slouched shoulder at the pro.

Aizawa hummed. The teacher lowered his goggles to hang about his neck and rubbed his eyes. “This is going to be a mess.” He sighed. “We leave at eight.”

Hitoshi threw him a sloppy thumbs up before dragging himself back to the 1-A dorm. Iida was already awake and pouring himself a tall glass of orange juice, and Bakugo was cooking something on the stove. Ugh, morning people.

“Good morning, Shinso! How was your patrol with Aizawa-sensei?” Iida called after noticing him.

Hitoshi blinked slowly and stared at ever-chipper class president. “You disgust me,” he said with the most deadpan expression he could muster. After a bark of laughter from Bakugo that felt like a nail to Hitoshi’s brain, the insomniac waved at the two. “I’m going to bed.”

Behind him, he heard Iida ask quietly, “Was it something I said?” That only made Bakugo laugh more.

---

Hitoshi had gotten exactly zero hours of sleep, and he felt like death. Or maybe that was the abominable mix of espresso and energy drink in the thermos he held. Whatever the case, he was intent on passing out the second he got back to the dorm. This “meeting” couldn’t be over soon enough.

Despite the lack of energy, Hitoshi noted several of his classmates and a few upperclassmen among the gathered heroes when he entered the conference room with Aizawa. Uraraka, Kirishima, Tsu, and Izuku were here from his class, and the Big Three from the third years were here as well.

Izuku was the first to spot him. He beamed as he waved and called, “Shin!”

Hitoshi hid his blush in his capture weapon. He didn’t know exactly what Izuku had against nicknames at the start of the year, but he had a guess. The fact his friend allowed Hitoshi to get away with calling him Zuku and had recently adopted calling Hitoshi a nickname of his own still surprised him. He waved and greeted him in kind. “Zuku.”

Plus, watching the green bean get flustered when his nickname caught him off guard was hilarious.

They didn’t get a chance to talk further before a really tall guy with green and yellow hair stepped up to the head of the table and asked everyone to take their seats.

Hitoshi took a spot next to his mentor and picked at the packet of papers before him. Everyone had similar packets. Looked like this meeting was about a yakuza called the Shie Hassaikai. Hitoshi blinked, recalling Aizawa asking Namimaru about any yakuza in Naruhata. This was connected, wasn’t it?

A sidekick with blue skin (and far too much of it exposed for Hitoshi’s tastes) walked up to the front of the room and started the meeting off. “For the last two weeks, the Nighteye Agency has been conducting an independent investigation into the designated villain group Shie Hassaikai.”

The fur-covered hero two seats down from Hitoshi asked, “What sparked the investigation?”

“The incident involving the Reservoir Dogs. Security footage from a restaurant down the street placed the Hassaikai’s young head, Overhaul, in the area as well as eye witness reports. The Reservoir Dogs were…well, you can read the details in the file we gave you. It’s not pretty. Thankfully, they were alive and in perfect health by the time police arrived on scene to make their arrests. That’s the odd thing though. Cavities, chronic pain, a laceration one man had from broken glass at the bank they robbed, all injuries and ailments were gone.”

Murmurs spread around the room as Bubble Girl—Hitoshi heard one of the heroes say her name—moved aside to allow another sidekick to take over. This one was taller and better dressed, though his centipede mutation made Hitoshi blink for a moment. He leaned over to Aizawa and whispered, “Think we could convince him to swing by UA sometime to scare the pants off Yamada-sensei?”

Aizawa snorted and shook his head. “I’m not that cruel.”

Hitoshi begged to differ, but he let the matter rest. Centipede guy was talking now.

“Centipeder here,” the man introduced himself. “Under Nighteye’s orders, I’ve been following some of the recent leads. According to my findings, the Hassaikai has been networking with outsiders and underworld dealers throughout the past year. They seem to be looking for business partners and investors, and shortly after we began investigating, Overhaul made contact with the villain known as Twice, a member of the League of Villains. They were wary of being tailed, but we did locate their meeting place after the fact. Based on the blood and dust found at the scene, there was a conflict between the two groups.”

The hero sitting right next to Hitoshi, some short geezer with a yellow cape and really big boots straightened in his seat. “The League’s involved, huh? So, that’s why you reached out to Tsukauchi and I.”

“Oh! Hey, Gran Torino,” Togata called from the other end of the table. “Didn’t know you’d be here.”

Hitoshi zoned out a bit as more people started talking around the table. Ugh, his headache was coming back. He let the voices become white noise and closed his eyes for a minute until he heard something far too familiar.

“…a drug that destroys quirks.”

Hitoshi’s eyes snapped open and zeroed in on the hero that had been speaking as the rest of the table lost their cool. Fatgum. That hero was Fatgum. Izuku had been ranting about him a few days ago when he found out Kirishima was going to intern with the guy. There was some incident about them on the news the other day too. Did they run into someone with the bullets Namimaru mentioned? He belatedly noticed a bandage around Amajiki’s arm and tensed, only relaxing when the third year turned his other arm into a cow’s hoof to calm Togata. The quirk damage was temporary then. That was good.

The tall guy at the head of the table—who must be Sir Nighteye—nodded and looked toward Aizawa. “On that point, I turn to Eraserhead.”

“The substance seems to work a bit differently from my Erasure. I temporarily stop quirk factors from activating; I can’t cause any damage to those factors. From the hospital report Fatgum forwarded us, it looks like these bullets actually damage their target’s quirk factors to the point of disrupting quirk usage.”

Fatgum nodded. “Luckily, Suneater’s body’s natural healing was enough to fix the problem after a few hours. Nothing else was damaged, just the quirk factors. And thanks to Red Riot’s quick reflexes with his hardening quirk we got an intact vial of the stuff to analyze.”

Uraraka and Tsu cheered for Kirishima, but Hitoshi kept watching Fatgum, some gut instinct telling him that that was the end of the good news.

The hero’s expression only turned more serious as he continued, “Those analysis results revealed something pretty disgusting. The cocktail in those bullets includes human cells and blood.”

Amidst the disturbed muttering around the table someone asked, “What does this have to do with the Hassaikai?”

“While we have no proof yet that the Hassaikai is the supplier, we do know they’ve done business with one of the middlemen who’s been transporting the drug,” Sir Nighteye said. “Ryukyu took down said middleman two days ago when responding to a feud between two villain groups. And Eraserhead’s confirmed that several other drug dealers in the area, and some as far away as Naruhata, are familiar with Overhaul and the Shie Hassaikai.”

There were murmurs of doubt around the table. Hitoshi had to admit that the evidence seemed circumstantial at best.

Nighteye was prepared for their doubt. “In addition, the Hassaikai’s young leader, Chisaki Kai, has a quirk granting him both the ability to dismantle and restore matter, a quirk that can destroy and heal. Then we have bullets that can destroy quirks.” He pressed a button on a remote, making a picture of the villain in question appear on the screen behind him. Another picture stood beside his: a little girl in a dress cowering on the ground, her arms and legs wrapped in bandages. “The man has a daughter, one with no birth record or listing in the quirk registry.” The pro nodded his head toward Togata and Izuku. “When these two encountered her, she was covered in an excessive number of bandages…”

Disgust, horror, and disbelief flickered across many of the faces around the table. Aizawa stiffened beside Hitoshi, and the old man on his other side growled. A pit of dread developed where Hitoshi’s stomach should have been. “You’re saying…” He didn’t realize he’d spoken until he heard his own voice echo in the room. He swallowed and ignored all the eyes on him as he continued, “You’re saying he’s using his own daughter’s body to make those bullets, and he’s selling them on the black market?”

Nighteye nodded. “We’re lacking proof, but we do know he’s bringing in extra manpower and funds. If this drug is still in the testing phase—which seems likely considering the underwhelming effects—then there’s a possibility the final product might destroy a person’s quirk permanently.”

Amid the outrage and raised voices that followed, one hero asked, “So, if your kids had just rescued the girl, our problems would be solved right now?”

Everyone else quieted as Nighteye answered the man, “I take full responsibility. They didn’t know the extent of the circumstances, but they did take measures to save her.” Nighteye pressed a button, bringing up a map with a blinking red dot. “Thanks to Deku’s quick thinking, we have a fix on the girl’s location. This was one of the locations Bubble Girl and I were investigating, but until now we had no proof that it was their main compound. Based on some of the movements we’ve seen since Deku put the tracker on Eri, there appears to be an extensive network of underground tunnels in addition to the aboveground residence.”

Izuku and Togata stood from their chairs at Nighteye’s end of the table. “This time, for sure, we’ll save her,” the duo said.

Hitoshi didn’t think he’d seen that look on Izuku’s face since the Sports Festival. That ferocious and unstoppable determination. Though there was more gravity to it this time. This wasn’t a competition; this was an actual life and death situation with a little girl hanging in the balance. The fire in Izuku’s eyes quickly spread to the pro heroes in the room.

The man next to him huffed, clearly amused. “So,” he called loud enough to get the room’s attention. “When’s the raid?”

Chapter Text

“So, you’re the kid Toshinori was so interested in.”

Izuku stopped and turned to find a hero he didn’t recognize standing behind him. A very short, elderly hero with sharp eyes. He was currently sizing Izuku up like he was deciding if he wanted to pick a fight. “Um…”

“Name’s Gran Torino, kid. I trained that buffoon All Might back when he was your age.”

Izuku’s eyes widened. “Oh! It’s an honor to meet you.” Izuku quickly dropped into a respectful bow. After processing the rest of the man’s words, he frowned. “What did you mean Yagi was interested in me?”

Gran Torino’s eyes softened and flicked to Mirio where he’d stopped at the end of the hall to wait for Izuku. “Doesn’t matter now,” the hero said, waving a hand dismissively. “I’ve heard a lot about you from him is all. Now go on. Your friend is waiting for you. Keep him and in line for me? Don’t let One for All go to his head.”

Izuku stiffened and looked around frantically to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. Well, that answered the question of if he knew about the quirk, at least. “Y-yes sir.”

He let out a breath as he rejoined Mirio, feeling like he’d narrowly avoided failing a pop quiz. He wasn’t even sure what Gran Torino had been testing him on. “So, that’s who you worked with after the Sports Festival this year?”

Mirio laughed. “Yeah, he’s something else. I still don’t see why All Might is so scared of him.”

Izuku had a suspicion, but he didn’t say anything. The pair walked into the break room to find their classmates already raiding the fridge. Except Hitoshi. Hitoshi was collapsed into a chair at the table with his head buried in his arms, an empty thermos lying on the wooden surface next to him.

Izuku winced. “Shin, please tell me you didn’t drink an entire batch of Aizawa’s death brew during that meeting.”

Hitoshi groaned in response but didn’t move.

Izuku shook his head and walked to the fridge to get his friend a snack. That much caffeine on an empty stomach could not be good for a person. He snatched a box of matcha pocky and a handful of senbei before returning to the table. He pressed the senbei against Hitoshi’s arm, prompting his friend to lift his head and squint at him. Izuku shrugged. “Sorry, the girls beat me to the melon pan.”

Hitoshi grumbled and took a large bite out of one the rice crackers.

Togata and Amajiki joined them then with a handful of water bottles. The tea maker was back in the conference room, and no one felt like rejoining that hoard of disgruntled heroes just yet. Izuku traded a few pocky sticks for a water and glanced around as everyone else settled. He nibbled on his pocky, idly wondering what characteristics Amajiki’s quirk might be able to take from any of the snacks. Hado had snagged the last melon pan for him, and the tiny grin told Izuku it was a favorite of his.

Izuku’s mood soured when he wondered what snacks Eri might like and realized she might have never had any of these. Mirio seemed to be having similar thoughts.

“So, this is why you’ve been so down the last few days, huh, Deku?”

Izuku blinked and looked up to see Uraraka watching him with obvious concern. “Y-yeah.”

Kirishima let out a huff of air and picked at his taiyaki. “Man, I can’t imagine how much you must be hurting.”

Izuku couldn’t bring himself to answer and stuffed an entire pocky stick in his mouth to avoid having to. Hitoshi chose that moment to choke on a mouthful of senbei, and Uraraka giggled while thumping him on the back.

After Hitsohi was done dying an awkward silence fell until they heard footsteps coming down the hall. They all looked up to see Aizawa pause in the doorway to give them a once over before entering the room.

“Hi, sensei,” Tsu greeted.

“It’s Eraserhead outside of school,” Aizawa corrected. “Anyway, I was planning to talk with all of you about ending your work-studies.”

Exclamations and protests rose around the table. Hitoshi gave their teacher a look of betrayal. Izuku wasn’t far off from matching him. “Eraserhead, please. I made Eri a promise.”

Aizawa levels one of his you’re-being-illogical looks at him. “You heard how the League might be involved in this. That changes things.”

Izuku bit his tongue to keep from saying how it really didn’t.

“Besides, Midoriya, you still haven’t fully earned my trust back.”

Izuku swallowed and dropped his gaze. He supposed he deserved that after sneaking off to Kamino and fighting Katsuki. It still hurt though.

“But,” Aizawa crouched right beside Izuku’s chair to put himself at the student’s eye level, voice softer than a minute before. “If I were to cut you off now, you’d leap into action anyway, wouldn’t you?”

Izuku bit his lip but didn’t deny it.

Aizawa held his gaze for a moment before giving a barely perceptible nod. “So, I’ll watch over you personally. Let’s try to do things right this time.” A ghost of a smile crossed Aizawa’s face as a hand rested on Izuku’s shoulder. “Understood, problem child?”

Izuku’s eyes burned as he gave a shaky grin and nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. Aizawa seemed satisfied with that and stood back up, ruffling Izuku’s hair on the way.

“Sic. The underground trio together at last,” Hitoshi said, lightly punching Izuku’s shoulder. He had a disturbingly good imitation of Aizawa’s smile plastered on his face. Izuku returned it with his own, albeit it more watery, version. The rest of their classmates shuddered.

Aizawa turned to catch Mirio’s eyes. Amajiki had been quietly trying to cheer him up to no avail. “Togata, Midoriya, if it makes you feel any better, when you reached out to help Eri, even though you failed at the time, I bet you gave her some hope.”

Hope. Izuku swallowed again and put on a determined face. He refused to let Eri lose hope. Some part of him snidely pointed out how hypocritical that was, given how he gave hope no room in his own heart when it came to people. Well, most people. Izuku considered Aizawa for a moment. There was still some uncertainty toward his friends, but Aizawa and Yagi both knew how much he cared about…his extended family. And they knew he’d originally been quirkless, and they still accepted him and were there for him. He hoped he could be a hero like that to someone one day. Why not start with Eri?

Aizawa glanced around the rest of the table. “The Big Three are on par with the pros if not better. However, you first years will have a much more reduced role in this operation. Most of you didn’t volunteer for this. What do you think?”

Uraraka and Kirishima competed with each other in their loud proclamations that they were going. Tsu more quietly confirmed that she wanted to help. Hitoshi gave Aizawa a deadpan look. “Eraserhead, if I just walked away now that I know what’s going on, I couldn’t call myself a hero.”

Aizawa hummed in what Izuku thought might be approval. “I needed to make sure. As long as you understand that the goal of this operation is to rescue Eri. Anything else is up to the pros, and the second the League shows up, that’s where your roles end.”

Izuku nodded along as everyone agreed to their teacher’s terms. It wasn’t like he could tell Aizawa what he knew. That would lead to telling him how he knew. And that would lead to a whole can of worms and Sir Nighteye likely deciding he’d been proven right in his opinion of Izuku. At the thought of the pro feeling vindicated, Izuku’s resolve crystalized. He’d keep his peace for now. He just hoped Toga and Twice didn’t make themselves known early in the raid. And that they didn’t somehow give away that Izuku had prior knowledge of their being with the Hassaikai.

The rest of that day and the next passed in suspense, with Sir Nighteye waiting on the final word that the warrants had gone through and coordinating with the local police. Mirio and Izuku were given that time off to rest and prepare. The others did so as well, though Aizawa kept everyone on their toes in class.

The rest of 1-A could tell that something was troubling them the day after the meeting, but they weren’t allowed to tell, especially not with the raid fast approaching. If word got out, Eri and Overhaul might disappear before anyone could reach them.

Izuku was just glad he wasn’t completely alone now. Moreso than he first thought.

Iida was quick to remind him how many people cared about him at lunch the day after the meeting. “Midoriya, is everything okay?”

Izuku had been staring at his katsudon for too long without eating a single bite. “Huh? Y-yeah. Why?”

Todoroki leaned forward to look at him from Iida’s other side. “You’ve seemed a little depressed ever since your work-study started.” Curse Todoroki and his increasing social awareness.

Iida nodded his agreement, and Izuku glanced away. He looked back up when Iida gently bumped his shoulder. “‘You know you’re not alone, right? If you need someone—for anything—I’m only one call away.’ That’s what you told me, back when I was acting like a fool before our internships.”

Todoroki hummed and nodded his agreement around a mouthful of soba noodles.

Izuku blinked several times as moisture started gathering at the corners of his eyes. “Th-thank you, Iida. That means a lot. And I wish I could tell you…” Izuku shook his head and rubbed at his eyes. “But I can’t until this case is done.”

They were a little disappointed but took it in stride. Iida insisted on giving him a hug before they headed back to class and Todoroki extracted a promise from him to call them for backup in case of another Hosu-level event, implying he’d be willing to offer assistance regardless of legalities.

Izuku wasn’t sure whether to be touched or worried that his friend was willing to break the law for him. That conundrum distracted him until he got to his lab period. He opened the lab’s reinforced steel door to find Mei making some promised adjustments to his helmet’s settings. That just brought him back around to thinking about the tracker and Eri.

Mei apparently was having none of Izuku’s moping either. The second she laid eyes on him, she shoved a big metal briefcase and his helmet into his arms, grabbed him and something that looked suspiciously like a rocket launcher, and dragged him out of the lab. “Maijima-sensei, I’m borrowing Izuku for a field test!”

Maijima didn’t even try to save Izuku. Izuku didn’t hold it against him. They both knew Izuku was doomed to whatever fate Mei had in mind. “Just make sure you’re back for your next class,” The teacher called after them.

They reached the far end of the field behind the main building before Mei released his arm. “Alright, Mr. Pouty Pants, today’s the day we finally catch one of those you-know-whats,” she said cryptically while loading the…rocket launcher? Bazooka? Was she even allowed to carry that outside of the lab? They’d already gotten a dressing down for borrowing Snipe’s gun with rubber rounds.

“Mei, what are you talking about?” Izuku asked, setting the metal briefcase on the grass.

Mei threw him a manic grin before hefting her weapon onto her shoulder. She fiddled with the dials on the side of her goggles as she answered, “I’m talking about examining a fine robotic specimen before I build my entry for the underground robot rumble next month.” She ignored Izuku’s bewilderment and slowly turned, scanning the area. She stopped to stare at something in the tree line of the nearby forest. She didn’t break eye contact with whatever she’d spotted as she said, “There you are. Izuku, open the case and activate the Overwatch Protocol on your helmet.”

Izuku rolled his eyes and complied. He paused to blink in surprise when he discovered his drone resting inside the protective metal case. Or a drone. It was a bit smaller than the one he’d salvaged from Dagobah. Sleeker. And it had a pair of small cameras mounted on it—one facing parallel to the drone and the other tucked underneath it. A hint of excitement tugged his lips upward as he slid his helmet on and waited the required five seconds for the systems to boot up and run their starting checks. “Activate Overwatch Protocol,” he said. He broke into a grin as the drone beeped and its four propellors whirred to life.

The drone lifted itself free of its housing and hovered two meters off the ground. Mei grinned and asked without turning around, “Liking what you see?”

Izuku jumped slightly, surprised to hear Mei’s voice coming through his helmet’s comm. He really shouldn’t have been. This made field testing a lot easier. “Like it? This is great! What else did you program?”

“Watch this. Target sequence: Hatsume.”

Izuku’s helmet responded to Mei’s command, and two camera feeds popped up on the inside of his visor. He watched the cameras pan across the field until Mei was in view, then a few markers popped up to indicate Mei’s line of sight. The drone rose into the air and started moving in the direction Mei was looking.

“This baby can also lock onto the signal from our trackers and follow a tagged target or you can set it to ‘survey’ a target building, and it will circle the structure, building you a rough schematic based off of its visuals, highlighting any people detected, and—”

Izuku interrupted to say, “Mei, you never cease to amaze.”

“Well, I certainly hope not! That would mean I’ve lost my edge. Oh, Recovery Girl also had me recalibrate your biometrics sensors, since you have a big mission coming up.”

Izuku adjusted his helmet to ensure said sensors were pressing lightly against his temples. It wouldn’t hurt to get a good baseline before the raid. Recovery Girl had been rather insistent on adding the sensor array given how often he seemed to get concussed. And after the summer camp there was a valid concern about what might happen if he took another head injury.

A yellow flag appeared in the corner of Izuku’s visor reading “Target Acquired.” Glancing back at the camera feeds, he found the top down camera had highlighted a small spidery shape in yellow where it crawled through the upper branches of a tree. So, that’s what this was about.

“Mei, I don’t think Nezu will appreciate us blowing up one of his cameras.”

“Oh, we’re not blowing it up. We’re capturing it!” Mei aimed the weapon on her shoulder and pulled the trigger. A canister rocketed across the field, exploding into a spinning net a few meters from its target. The camera feed showed the net hit true, entangling the spider camera robot and several surrounding tree branches.

“That’s a hit,” Izuku said, impressed. “Did you connect it to the drone’s targeting?”

“Of course, silly. Not that we’ll get to really use it in the field. This was more a proof of concept.” Something about her smile as she set her bazooka down told Izuku that she already had a dozen ideas about what to do with that concept next.

As they walked toward the trapped robot, a red warning appeared up in the corner of Izuku’s visor. “Uh, Mei?”

No sooner had he spoken than a loud pop sounded overhead. They looked up in time to see one of the propellors on the drone fall free and the motor start leaking smoke. The unbalanced drone began to spiral down and further into the forest.

“Shit!” Mei hissed. “Disable Overwatch! Power down,” she ordered through Izuku’s helmet. Turning to him, she added, “Izuku, you have to find our baby and make sure it doesn’t start a fire.”

“On it.” Izuku took off jogging in the direction he’d last seen the drone flying. He was so intent on his search for the smoking piece of machinery that he almost didn’t see the sign marking the area ahead as off limits to students. He paused for only a moment, torn. The risk of starting a forest fire outweighed any punishment he might get later. Surely Nezu would understand.

It only took him a few minutes after that to locate the wreckage of the drone. It had crashed into a bush and was worse for wear, but there wasn’t a fire going. The odd thing was the bush was smoking too. Almost like it had caught fire, but something had put it out.

Some instinct made Izuku slow down and glance around him as he cautiously approached. His steps faltered as his helmet highlighted something in one of the nearby trees. He relaxed when he realized it was only a crow. He laughed nervously and shook his head as he picked up the drone, careful not to burn himself. He turned around to head back to Mei and came face to face with a sika deer. He froze and the two studied each other for a tense five seconds. “Um…hi?” Izuku said. “Sorry to bother you. I was just retrieving this.” Izuku shifted his grip on the drone, which he now realized was dripping wet. Did it spring a fuel leak? Not good.

Izuku edged carefully backward, keeping an eye on the deer and the impressive antlers lowered in his direction. “I’ll just go now…if that’s okay?” Izuku did not jump when the deer snorted at him, and no one could prove otherwise.

The crow he’d spotted before cawed harshly, and the deer flicked an ear in its direction before it lifted its head and walked past Izuku to disappear further into the forest. The part of Izuku not frozen in fear noted the jagged scar running down the deer’s flank.

Izuku let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He glanced up at the crow, nodding his head in mute thanks before reminding himself that it was a bird and couldn’t—

The bird bobbed in an uncanny imitation of his gesture before taking wing and vanishing itself. Okay then.

Izuku didn’t really pay attention to the walk back, only snapping out of it when Mei pounced on him. “Izuku! Where were you? Is our baby okay? You didn’t have to go into the restricted zone, did you? I forgot how close we were to it until after you ran off.”

“Uhh…maybe?”

Mei narrowed her eyes at him, then looked him over. Satisfied he wasn’t harmed, she turned her attention to their drone. “Did it land in a stream or something?”

Izuku’s eyebrows drew together. “No? I thought it had a fuel leak.”

“The drone’s electric, Izuku.”

They reluctantly shelved that mystery when the alarm on Izuku’s phone went off. The current class period ended in five minutes, and they still had to walk back and put all their gear away before heading to their next classes. At least they’d bagged one of the camera bots. Mei slung the metal net holding it over her shoulder and took the net launcher. Izuku packed up the drone and followed her back toward the main building.

They were most of the way there when they were met by Present Mic. “Little listeners, what are you doing out here during class? Was it you that tripped the restricted zone sensors?”

“It was an accident!” Izuku hurried to say. “The drone we were testing malfunctioned and started smoking and crashed inside the restricted zone. I couldn’t just leave it and risk it starting a fire.”

Mei turned her back to Mic to give Izuku an encouraging thumbs-up.

Mic froze and started backing away. “Wh-what is that?!” he demanded, pointing at the net Mei was carrying.

Mei set the net down, but kept a grip on it to prevent the camera bot trying to escape. “Oh, this is one of Nezu’s babies! I’m calling it a spider cam bot, since he hasn’t told us what he calls them.”

Mic backed a bit further away when the bot struggled to right itself inside the net, looking a lot like a dying spider. “Nope! I am not dealing with that. I didn’t see either of you. Just don’t go in the restricted zone again.” Then he hastily retreated.

Mei and Izuku looked at each other and shrugged before heading back to the lab. Izuku found himself grinning as he walked to his next class. Between his classmates and the antics Mei insisted he be a part of, he found it easier to remember that he wasn’t alone.

Chapter Text

Izuku barely dodged the cluster of tentacles Amajiki slammed down onto the gym floor. “You’re getting better at reorienting after Mirio’s quirk!” he called as he dove sideways, barely avoiding a punch from the caped blonde.

Amaj—Tamaki—gave him a weak grin. “You’re getting better at dodging, but you should mind your footing.”

Izuku glanced down just in time to see a tentacle wrap around his ankle and yank his feet from under him. Dangling upside down in the air, he sighed. “You win this round, senpai.” Amajiki was nice enough to forgo mentioning he’d also won every one of the last ten rounds, despite Mirio dragging him along with his quirk for surprise attacks. After being set back on the ground, Izuku bounced to his feet. “So, how’s the new costume feel? Need me to ask Mei to make any adjustments?”

“No, it’s good,” Tamaki said, rolling his shoulders as he retracted all of his manifestations through the fabric now laced with his DNA. He looked down at his hand, which shed the last few chunks of chitinous armor his body couldn’t resorb. Under the flaking shell his hands were protected by fingerless gloves. “Just feels weird. Probably need to break it in a little more.”

“Well, that’s what we’re here for!” Mirio said, popping up next to them.

Izuku and Tamaki had gotten used enough to Mirio’s habits to not even jump anymore. Instead, Izuku rolled his eyes and grinned. “Only because you’ve made zero progress on using Permeation on more than one person at a time.”

Mirio laughed and scratched at the back of his head. “I’ll get there eventually.” Turning back to his childhood friend, he asked, “Want to try that ultimate combo one more time?”

“You’ll have to save that for later.”

The trio of students turned to look at the doorway, finding Aizawa walking toward them with his phone in hand. Yagi—who had been sitting off to the side and observing the training—sputtered a greeting.

Aizawa spared a glance and a nod for Yagi before focusing back on the students. “Normally, I’d say leaving your phones in the locker room while training is a logical choice, but that’s not the case when you’re on call.”

The three straightened up as Aizawa jerked his head toward the door. “Change and meet me at the gate.”

Izuku, Mirio, and Tamaki took off sprinting for the locker room. Izuku checked his phone first thing, and sure enough, there was a message from Sir Nighteye. The raid was happening in a few short hours. After changing back into their school uniforms, the trio split up to drop off their backpacks at their dorms. Izuku flung his bag for his bed and started to turn to leave the room again.

A sudden thought made him pause. The League would be there, and he’d told Tomura about Eri. Izuku intended to save her, but if something happened…He nodded to himself and crouched beside his bed to reach under it. He pulled out the GPS beacon he’d gotten for his birthday. Izuku would keep it for a last resort, but if it came down to it, he’d rather have it on him then not. He added it to the contents of his costume case and let his eyes rove over his room trying to think of anything else that might be helpful on the raid. When he drew a blank, he headed for the Development Studio.

“We’re coming for you, Eri,” he whispered, clenching his free hand. “Just hold on.”

---

Dozens of police and heroes had been gathered for the raid. Izuku stayed off to one side with Aizawa and Hitoshi while waiting for Nighteye and the police sergeant to finish splitting up the assault groups. One group would be serving the warrant and going in through the front gate to clear the aboveground structure and had the majority of the police force. The other group would be breaking into the underground portion of the base through the street above in hopes of getting Eri out with minimal fighting. That group would be smaller and made up of mostly heroes and a few of the more experienced SWAT officers. They would rely on the rough map Eri’s tracker had traced out over the last few days.

Izuku had monitored Eri’s signal since he’d arrived at the staging area and already had the Hatsume-Midoriya surveillance drone in the air tracking the signal as well. Once the aboveground team wrapped up, they’d be able to follow the drone to join the underground team if there was still fighting to be done or—heaven forbid—if Chisaki escaped with Eri.

Both teams were set to strike in 30 minutes, allowing plenty of time for the discreet evacuation of the surrounding neighborhoods to be completed. Izuku tried to reign in his anxious thoughts in the meantime. He worked through a few stretches and katas to try and loosen the tension in his shoulders, but nothing seemed to—a red error message flashed across his visor. “Signal lost.” He frantically ran through a series of commands, but the tracker wasn’t responding. The battery on it should have had enough charge for another 20 hours. That could only mean…

“Sir Nighteye! Chisaki found the tracker. It’s gone.”

Nighteye’s eyes narrowed, and he gave Izuku a curt nod before saying something to the police sergeant. The officer responded by yelling, “Change of plans. Operation starts now. All teams go!”

Nighteye joined Izuku and the underground team as they jogged for the tracker’s last known location. The drone hovered dutifully above and off to one side of an intersection. The signal had been lost underneath an apartment complex. This block had already been evacuated, but they couldn’t just knock down a whole building to make their entrance. Izuku scanned the mapped tunnels that overlay the city map on his visor until he found a stretch that ran underneath the parking lot.

“Sir, we can make an entry over there.” Izuku pointed to a section of empty parking spaces.

Nighteye nodded and turned to Mirio. “Lemillion, if you would?”

“On it, Sir.”

As Lemillion sprinted toward the indicated spot, Izuku activated the homing beacon in his helmet. “Close visual feed. Target: Izuku.” Izuku watched as the camera and maps vanished and the drone flew to hover high above him. At least help would be able to find the team, even if he couldn’t track Eri’s movements anymore.

Lemillion vanished underground for a few moments before shooting back up into the air. “Three hostiles below us!” he announced before charging up One for All. Yellow bolts of lightning shot erratically across and off his skin as he fell back toward the blacktop. Lemillion brought both fists down in a devastating smash when he landed. The ground shook and buckled under the force, caving in a large section and sending cracks spiderwebbing outward across half of the lot. Car alarms blared as Izuku and everyone else moved.

Izuku nearly stumbled when the ground shook again, and a roar that could only belong to Ryukyu sounded from the direction of the base. A fleeting worry for Uravity and Froppy gave way to determination. They were in good hands. He needed to focus on his part of the mission.

Izuku shook his wrists to engage the claws on his gauntlets and jumped into the sinkhole. He raked a slab of asphalt with the left set to slow his descent and disengaged the claws as he rolled away from the rubble to make room for Eraserhead and Shin—Iwazaru—swinging down after him. Rock Lock, Fat Gum, Red Riot, Suneater, Gran Torino, and Sir Nighteye were already pouring in with the police officers.

They’d broken into an open room rather than a narrow hallway. And blocking the passage leading in the direction of Eri’s last known location were three masked villains. Izuku recognized them from Nighteye Agency’s files the moment he rolled to his feet. He raised his right gauntlet to aim a taser disc at the most problematic one.

“Hold! Don’t draw your weapons,” the police sergeant called. “That’s Setsuno. His Larceny will let him steal your equipment.” His warning came too late.

Izuku’s gauntlet vanished, leaving him to blink in surprise at his exposed and scarred hand. Izuku cursed under his breath and shifted position to hold his left arm behind him and out of sight. He wasn’t certain of Setsuno’s quirk activation requirements, but he’d like to keep one ranged weapon.

The villain laughed as he held Izuku’s gauntlet and a police issue handgun in one hand while twirling a katana in the other. “Well, lookee here. State-authorized goons dropping in from the sky with weapons ready. Life’s just full of surprises, huh?” He held up the stolen gear and shook them while smirking.

Izuku almost warned him not to do that, but Eraserhead set a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Izuku closed his mouth in a thin line and winced in anticipation. Sure enough, Setsuno jostled the empty gauntlet enough to trigger the claws. They snapped forward, catching the meat of the man’s hand in the process. Something snapped. Setsuno howled and dropped his sword and the stolen gun to clutch his bleeding hand.

Eraserhead released Izuku’s shoulder and stepped forward, hair and capture weapon floating. “Drop your weapons and surrender!”

Izuku took advantage of the protection his teacher’s quirk provided to hastily swap out the tracker discs in his left gauntlet for tasers. He glanced back up when Eraserhead stiffened and shifted slightly in front of him.

One of the other villains had pulled a gun. Hojo, the guy with the crystallization quirk, Izuku’s mind supplied. Was it a standard gun or one with quirk erasing bullets? Izuku wasn’t sure which would be worse.

A scrape against the concrete behind Izuku was all the warning he got before Tamaki lunged forward, encased in a pair of giant clamshells. Izuku smiled as he caught the metallic sheen of the shells. The result of several brainstorming sessions with Hatsume and Tamaki—separately; the manic support girl was a bit much for the shy third year to deal with in person—Suneater’s food supplies had been supplemented with a vial of solid stainless steel pills. Perfectly safe to ingest, and perfectly accessible to Suneater’s quirk. They hadn’t had time to convince Yaoyaorozu to make them a supply of diamond pills yet, unfortunately.

The giant bivalve barreled through the villains before snapping open to allow Suneater to unleash a slew of octopus tentacles to restrain and disarm the trio. He dragged the villains away from the doorway and detached the tentacles now wrapping them head to foot. “Forgive me for being a bit cautious of these things since getting shot,” Suneater said, voice wavering only slightly. The tentacles coiled around the retrieved weapons twisted and shifted into a large crab claw with the pincers’ inner edge lined with metal. With minimal strain Suneater crushed the two handguns to uselessness and snapped the blade of Setsuno’s sword just above the hilt.

Suneater kept an eye on the villains as he addressed the raid team, “Fighting these three doesn’t solve anything, and we’re on a time crunch. Tying up the pros with fighting here plays right into their hands. You and your powers are essential to the mission. I’ll keep these three occupied.”

Lemillion glanced at the gathered heroes and nodded. “You got this, Suneater.”

Izuku agreed except…his eyes drifted to the one villain who hadn’t fought back yet thanks to Eraserhead’s quirk. Tabe had a food quirk. Where Tamaki could manifest anything he ate, Tabe could eat anything without ever being full. He’d be dangerous for Tamaki to fight alone.

As if reading Izuku’s thoughts, Gran Torino ricocheted off the ceiling to kick Tabe in the head before landing back by Suneater’s side. “I’ll hang back here with Suneater. I’ll do better in the open than in those tight corridors anyway. We’ll catch up once these three are dealt with.”

With that, the heroes and police started pouring through the open doorway, led by Lemillion. Izuku moved to join them but hesitated when Suneater called after him, “Watch Mirio’s back for me? I just know…he’s gonna take things too far and need saving…”

Izuku gave his friend a solemn nod. “I will.”

The group raced down the underground passage, only stalling when they came across an abandoned puppet and injector on the floor. “Trigger!” Eraserhead yelled as the floor and walls started undulating around them.

“This has to be Mimic!” Lemillion said, widening his stance and searching for a target in the walls and ceiling.

“I thought he could only control small inanimate objects?” Fat Gum asked.

Rock Lock stumbled before replying, “Yeah, but hopped up on Trigger, he’s controlling the whole damn hallway.”

Speaking of, a column of concrete shot from one wall aimed at Eraserhead. Even with his enhanced reflexes, Izuku couldn’t reach him in time. Thankfully, Fat Gum and Kirishima did. They took the hit in Eraser’s place and were thrown through a section of wall that opened suddenly before sealing again.

“Lemillion,” Nighteye called. “Go on ahead. We cannot allow Overhaul to escape.”

“Got it, Sir.” Then Lemillion powered up One for All again and disappeared into the ground. A second later he shot up at an angle that threw him down the hall before disappearing into a wall and repeating the process.

At Mimic’s continued pillar attacks from the walls, Iwazaru yelled, “What’s the matter, hotshot? Afraid of a little fight?”

Unfortunately, Mimic didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he threw all of the walls—and the ceiling and floor—outward. The resultant space was larger than the room they’d first landed in. Mimic’s action also snapped the wiring for all of the lights in the affected area, plunging it into darkness.

Izuku stumbled back to his feet after the three-meter drop and turned on the light on his helmet. There was rumbling coming from somewhere, but he couldn’t tell where. “Deku!” Two loops of capture weapon whipped around him and yanked him back. Izuku’s eyes widened as a wall crashed down right where he’d just been standing. He’d nearly been crushed.

“Th-thanks,” he said shakily.

“Don’t mention it, kid,” Eraserhead said as he retracted his capture weapon, still scanning for danger. Iwazaru was here too, but all the others were somewhere behind the maze of walls that had sprung from every surface to split them up. And no one in their group had a quirk to break through concrete.

Izuku mentally cursed as he scanned the small space they were trapped in. No vents or doors. They’d have to get out or risk Mimic coming back to finish them or eventually running out of air. Izuku ran his fingers over each pouch and pocket on his utility belt, inventorying what was there. His fingers stopped over his GPS beacon for a moment before moving to his retractable jo staff. He really hated sacrificing another piece of his gear and probably damaging his knife from Stain, but they did need to get out of here. “I have an idea.”

A few minutes of desperately chipping away at a crack in one of the walls with their knives—Iwazaru and Eraser both had one in case of capture weapon accidents—and they had widened the crack enough for Izuku to slide his collapsed staff into the space lengthwise. The underground trio backed off, and Izuku shot a taser disc at his staff.

Never had Izuku been so thankful for Mei’s tendency toward accidental explosives. This blast was just as big as the one when Izuku fought All Might, but contained in the crack, it did the job of blowing out part of the wall. A few well-placed kicks widened the gap enough for them to squeeze through into the next room.

This one was occupied by two Rock Locks, one of whom was collapsed and bleeding. Izuku reached for his first aid kit while he was still processing. Rock Lock—the uninjured one—said something about imposters that tickled at Izuku’s memory. The licensing exam. Two Bakugos…

He figured it out about the same time as Eraserhead, but they were both too slow. Toga grabbed Iwazaru and held a knife to his throat as she pulled him in front of her. Eraserhead’s glowing eyes drilled into her as her façade melted away, but Toga only had eyes for Izuku. “You recognized me! I saw it in your eyes. I knew you were special, Izukun!”

Izuku had the feeling his skin should be crawling right now, but he really just wanted to stop Rock Lock from bleeding out, find Eri, punch Overhaul in the face, and get out of here. “Nice to see you too, Toga,” he deadpanned. “Let Iwazaru go, and we can keep talking. That sound good?”

“It’s Himiko! Or Himichan. Whichever you prefer,” she said, grinning even bigger, but pressing her knife a little closer to Hitoshi’s throat. A bead of blood started to roll down the blade. Then she pouted at her captive. “Ugh. Your blood doesn’t smell near as good as Izukun’s.” Ignoring the wide-eyed look from Hitoshi, she turned her eyes back to Izuku. “I wish you weren’t Tomura’s favorite. Your blood tastes so good! Ooh! I’ll trade you. Some more of your blood for your friend!”

The part of Izuku’s brain that had been running nonstop trying to think up a way to save his best friend at UA froze as the implication of her words finally registered. She’d had a taste of Izuku’s blood. Her quirk let her turn into people after drinking their blood. She could disguise herself as Izuku. His identity was compromised. Could she get into UA as him? Or Uraraka or Kacchan or Vlad King? Would the barrier even be able to tell the difference?

Thank goodness for Aizawa-sensei. While Izuku had his miniature existential crisis, the pro hero stepped forward. “What is the League doing here? Are you working together with the Hassaikai?”

Toga giggled and tilted her head to the side as if listening to something behind her. “Oh, them? Tomura haaaates them. No one gets away with hurting one of ours,” she said, voice lowering dangerously. She brightened again in an instant as she nodded in Izuku’s direction. “Oh, and Tomura wanted me to keep an eye on Izukun! Something about his best friend being a trouble magnet.”

Hitoshi seemed to have come to terms with being a hostage and gotten over the initial shock, as he scoffed and dared to speak. “Best friend? Sounds more like a stalker.”

Toga didn’t take the bait, not quite. She stared Izuku down and said, “You should know by now that Tomura’s the type to do whatever it takes to help someone he cares about. What would you do to keep a friend safe? What rules would you be willing to break? How far would you go?”

Izuku bit his lower lip, uncertain if she wanted him or Hitoshi—or both—to answer her. What answer was he supposed to give with Aizawa-sensei standing right there? What would satisfy her? And what was his real answer? Thinking about it left something uncomfortable stirring in his chest.

Now wasn’t the time. He dragged his mind back to the task at hand, leaving all hypotheticals for later. How to get Toga away from Hito—the room shook. Then one of the Mimic-created walls crumbled as a really big masked villain was thrown through it. That was Rappa if Izuku recalled the file correctly. Or…not. Considering it just melted into a pile of sludge, it was a clone. That meant Twice was here too.

Sure enough, the black and white spandex-suited villain bolted through the broken wall clutching his head with both hands. Part of his mask was torn. “These yakuza are useless! Toga, we need to go. No, we should stay.”

Toga threw Twice a worried look before seeing Nighteye approaching the break in the wall. She met Izuku’s eyes again. “That’s my cue to leave, boys. And since neither of you answered me, I’m taking this…” She swiped a shallow cut on Hitoshi’s neck and kicked him toward Aizawa. “As my prize! See you soon!” Then she backflipped to stand next to Twice and winked at Izuku. A wall crashed in from all directions to separate the League members from the heroes.

Something about the way Toga and Twice left put Izuku on edge, but he couldn’t pin down what or why. So, with one last glance over his shoulder he moved to help bandage Rock Lock’s stab wound and Iwazaru’s neck. Nighteye and the others joined them over the next few minutes.

“Alright, that’s everyone accounted for from before Mimic’s last attack,” Nighteye said. Keep your wits about you. With Toga and Twice here, there could be more clones or League members.”

No sooner had the pro spoken than the room started fluctuating and rumbling again. Violently. The room opened up once more, all the previous walls melting as pillars and spikes began erupting from the remaining walls. “Traitors! I’m going to pulverize you!” Was that Mimic’s voice? They hadn’t heard him talk before now, and he sounded pissed. None of the pillars seemed particularly aimed at the assault team though. So, who?

Izuku’s eyes quickly found Toga and Twice. Mimic was definitely targeting them, but why? Toga had a feral grin on her face as she launched herself off of one pillar to avoid another one. “Hey, heroes,” she called in a sing-song voice. “We’re calling a temporary truce whether you like it or not. Do us a favor and exterminate this pest, would you?” Instead of making eye contact with Izuku this time, she stared Iwazaru dead in the eye.

That…actually was a brilliant plan. Iwazaru seemed to catch on too as he nodded and cleared his throat. He made a gesture for Toga to keep talking as he started twisting the dials on his artificial vocal cords.

Toga smiled and started monologuing, all while she and Twice dodged Mimic’s attacks like the most predictable thing in the world. “Insecure guys have such short fuses, and when they get mad, they throw caution to the wind. It’s like they’re compensating for something.”

“Them and the whole yakuza,” Iwazaru said in a near copy of Toga’s voice. “So uncool, seriously.” An incoherent scream of rage answered him, and Izuku could imagine the smile behind Hitoshi’s mask. “Got you. Stop using your quirk and get out here.”

Toga squealed as Mimic obeyed Iwazaru. “I knew I liked you! Take good care of Izukun for us. We’ll be back later. Bye!”

Well, there went the League. For now, everyone else seemed willing to let them go considering they’d just…helped. Mimic could have easily crushed them all without revealing himself for Eraserhead to cancel his quirk. Izuku tilted his head down and allowed himself a small smile. He’d thank them and Tomura after this was all over. First things first.

Izuku whispered his idea to Iwazaru who nodded. “Make us a path to where Chisaki and Eri went.”

---

Mirai found himself impressed with Eraserhead’s young intern. He’d kept his nerve while held at knifepoint by the serial killer Toga, and then worked out how to take advantage of the discord among the enemy ranks. Thanks to his quick thinking and quirk use, Mimic was neutralized and was even carving a straight path for them to the escape tunnel Chisaki was going for.

Actually, all of the interns from UA this year were impressive. Mirai’s gaze slipped past Iwazaru to Deku walking by his side. Deku was certainly…something. Not what Mirai had expected. There was bitterness in the boy, and a formidable intellect. But there was also a compassionate, heroic heart and a fierce determination to help. What Mirai couldn’t fathom was the apparent relationship between the Merchant of Quirks and the aspiring hero.

As an intelligence hero, Mirai disliked not knowing things. Was the heroic act a sham? No, Tsukauchi had assured him that Midoriya had never willingly or knowingly helped All for One’s evil schemes, though thinking back, Mirai had never heard the boy speak ill of the bastard either.

But why keep the boy around? Why enable him? There was something Mirai was missing, some piece that would make the whole puzzle make sense.

Perhaps he was overthinking things. It always came back around to quirks or power with that man. With the sheer number of quirks the villain possessed, it wasn’t out of the question for the man to have a memory altering or mental manipulation quirk. Actually, that made perfect sense. He used Midoriya as a spy—regardless of willingness—then absolved the boy of guilt to maintain his position in UA. Though surely someone would have noticed the side effects of such a procedure. Midoriya’s homeroom teacher was observant enough to have caught any memory loss or sudden personality changes.

There were still pieces missing, but it made far more sense for All for One to have a use for Midoriya, whether or not the boy was aware of it. He just had to figure out what it was. Patience and reconnaissance went a long way in the intelligence field, and Mirai intended to exercise both in this case.

But that would come later. The present demanded his full attention. Distractions made for sloppy work. Sloppy work made for mistakes. Mistakes got people killed. And Mirai wanted no deaths today.

To that end, Mirai kept a close watch on the brainwashed yakuza member creating their path, hand never far from the pocket he kept his weighted seals in. Under Iwazaru’s influence Mimic was back in the walls, creating a tunnel where there had been none previously. Moving as the crow flies—or as the mole burrows?—Mirai had hopes they could cut Chisaki off.

The trek was silent aside from the scuff of boots on rock and dirt. Miirai wondered briefly at the structural integrity of the soil around them. Typhoon season had been surprisingly mild this year, but this area had received several inches of rain last week. A few clumps of dirt fell from the ceiling as Mirai watched.

The erratic movement of Eraserhead’s flashlight and the light from Deku’s helmet let Mirai know he wasn’t the only one to detect the danger. The police came to a stop behind them before Mirai felt a tremor through the soles of his shoes. Fighting. They were close.

Iwazaru turned his head and listened. Then he called out a new order to Mimic, “Take us to the fight. Quick.”

As soon as the new tunnel opened, they moved. The few police who hadn’t remained with Rock Lock for security now stepped back to properly restrain and guard Mimic. Not that he’d be up to causing trouble for hours yet. With the Trigger well out of his system and Iwazaru’s control no longer forcing him to use his quirk coherently, the man was a shaking, pale mess incapable of standing. The aftereffects of Trigger were no laughing matter, though the villain should be safe waiting to go to the hospital until the raid was done.

As Mirai passed from the tunnel into the large chamber the fighting was in, he banished thoughts of Mimic and took stock of the situation before him. The past and that villain’s future could wait. The present wouldn’t.

Lemillion was here, and he was scratched up, but he had Eri. Good. Sakaki and Nemoto—and a dropped handgun—were unconscious off to one side near a corridor leading into this room, and Chronostasis was sprawled unmoving near the center of the room—with another discarded firearm. Also good. The area immediately surrounding each of the underlings was the only stable ground in view; the rest was distorted and disrupted by sharpened spears and spikes of concrete and stone that had spilled out in waves. At the epicenter of the destruction stood one man in a plague mask with coat sleeves rolled up and hatred burning in his golden eyes. Chisaki looked in perfect condition. Not good.

“Deku, evacuate Eri; Lemillion regroup; Eraserhead, Iwazaru, with me,” Mirai called, flinging a seal at Chisaki’s head as he moved in.

The others obeyed without protest, though Deku did fire off one taser disc at Chisaki on his way to Lemillion. If the distraction kept Chisaki from launching an attack until Mirai was in close, Mirai wasn’t going to complain.

Mirai avoided using Foresight as a rule. Especially since All Might…Mirai had only resorted to it a handful of times in the last six years, all of which were matters of life and death or when dealing with someone connected to All for One—which was always a matter of life and death whether anyone acknowledged it or not.

He didn’t need his quirk to fight well. As much as it galled him to admit, Deku had been right about his fighting strategy, though he’d overemphasized Mirai’s reliance on his quirk. An honest mistake. Most weren’t willing to believe he was simply that good at reading a person’s movements in battle. They always brushed off his years of experience in heroics and credited his quirk. It didn’t take Foresight to see what move a person would make a second before they committed to it. And that second was all he needed to react accordingly if a fight was strictly hand to hand.

But Chisaki’s quirk was a danger Mirai couldn’t discount. Not when so many other lives were on the line, not when the only other pro hero here with him let out a grunt of pain behind him before his steps fell silent, not when losing Chisaki here meant they’d likely not have a chance to catch him again for months or years to come. So, when Chisaki took a swing at him, Mirai dodged and hit his wrist aside, activating Foresight as he stared into murderous golden eyes.

At first, he reigned in his quirk and only viewed the seconds immediately ahead. But with so much at stake, he dared to look a little further. He needed to see. And when he saw, he wished he hadn’t.

He saw himself die suspended from a spear of stone, saw Chisaki watch with glee as Nemoto fired a quirk erasing bullet at Eri, saw Lemillion dive in front of her to take the hit, saw the sparks of One for All die in an instant, saw Chisaki escape with Eri tucked under one arm—both covered in someone else’s blood, saw the world dissolving into dust as Shigaraki approached Chisaki with a tearstained snarl and outstretched hand, saw the blackness indicating the death of whoever’s future he was viewing.

Mirai saw it and didn’t even think to move as Chisaki slammed his hands to the ground. There was no point. Foresight was never wrong.

Chapter Text

The last few days of training, Hitoshi had listened closely to Aizawa’s stories about raids and things that often went wrong on them. He knew Aizawa was trying to tell him something with those stories, maybe warn him of something. But he hadn’t expected this. The yakuza lying in the middle of the room wasn’t unconscious. They’d run right past him like he wasn’t a threat. They were idiots.

What was his name again? Hitoshi wracked his brain as he dodged yet another arrow-shaped spear of hair. He’d looked at the villain files like everyone else, but he’d been hazy from his sleep medication at the time. Hitoshi shook his head. He needed to think. What did this goon say when he hit Aizawa? “Those stabbed by the big hand have to slow down?” Like the big hand of a clock? Clock. Time. Chronostasis! That was this douchebag’s name. Overhaul’s second in command. And Hitoshi was fighting him solo. Fuck.

How long did his quirk last? Hitoshi glanced over at Aizawa to see him still dangling in midair, falling in the slowest slow-motion Hitoshi had ever had the displeasure of seeing. Could Chronostasis release it early, or was it time-based? Hitoshi narrowed his eyes at his opponent. There was only one way to find out.

If he’d learned anything from Aizawa’s stories about gangs and yakuza, it was that both groups instilled a sense of pride and belonging in their members and often fierce loyalty. Pride made for an easy target, loyalty a close second.

Hitoshi flung a loop of his capture weapon out, and Chronstasis batted it aside with his hair. As they traded attacks Hitoshi tried his plan. “What’s it like playing second fiddle to the boss of a washed-up, two-bit villain group?”

As predicted, Chronostasis stiffened. “You dare insult…” The villain’s body relaxed under Hitoshi’s quirk.

Hitoshi could feel Chrono fighting Brainwashing, but it was nowhere near the fight Izuku with his hyper brain could put up. Keeping Chrono under was child’s play compared to that. Hitoshi still kept an eye on his captive as he commanded him, “Release Eras—"

One thing he had forgotten about Aizawa’s stories: never take your eyes off the fight at large.

The floor fell out from under him and Chronostasis, dropping them into another tunnel. Aizawa fell too, though Hitoshi wasn’t sure if that was Chrono releasing his quirk or the timer running out. Probably the latter, given he hadn’t finished giving his command. Not that it mattered. The fall jarred Chrono out of Brainwashing, and he hit Aizawa with his quirk again before the teacher could clear the dust from his eyes.

A series of spikes closed up most of the ceiling above them, letting Hitoshi know who was responsible for their predicament. Enough light still made it through the gaps to let Hitsohi see Chrono tie a loop of his mentor’s own capture weapon over his eyes to block any attempts at using Erasure.

Hitoshi tried to intervene but immediately was forced to back off to avoid the barrage of hair attacks. He winced when he stumbled, right ankle twinging in warning. That felt like a sprain.

Once satisfied with his precautions, Chronostasis turned to face Hitoshi again. Hitoshi grabbed his capture weapon, shifted into a fighting stance, and waited. Time was on his side if Chrono’s power worked the way he thought it did.

“You,” Chrono said, shaking his head as if to clear it. “You have an interesting quirk. I think Overhaul might find a use for you too.”

Too? Did that mean he’d already wanted Aizawa? Hitoshi had an epiphany the same time his ankle nearly buckled on him. Of course, the anti-quirk mad scientist/yakuza boss would want Eraserhead with his quirk! Had they walked right into a trap?

Chronostasis took his momentary distraction as opportunity to attack.

Hitoshi hobbled back a step and ducked under the arrow aimed at his chest. “Eraserhead makes sense,” Hitoshi said, hoping against hope that Chrono hadn’t figured out Brainwashing’s trigger. “But why me? I thought your boss was into little girls.”

It was too much to hope for. The yakuza man wasn’t talking, though he did seem angrier. Not that Hitoshi necessarily needed his quirk to win this fight. This guy was as bad as Todoroki when it came to standing still. Which just made Hitoshi’s compromised mobility and inability to land a hit with his capture weapon all the more frustrating.

Hitoshi blinked and smiled behind his artificial vocal cords. Todoroki’s fight at the Sports Festival. That was it. Hitoshi bit back a curse as he stumbled again and dropped a hand to the floor to catch himself. Chrono took the bait, not noticing Hitoshi’s hand close around a fist-sized chunk of concrete. Hitoshi rolled out of the way of an attack and pulled himself back to his feet. Then he threw his new projectile at the man’s head.

Chrono barely avoided it and successfully blocked another attempt with the capture weapon right after. He retaliated by sending out two arrows of hair at Hitoshi at once.

Hitoshi overbalanced as he bent out of the way, and his bad ankle gave out on him for real. He scrambled away from another attack and caught the next with his capture weapon. If the arrow couldn’t touch him, Chrono’s quirk wouldn’t activate. The wrapped arrowhead hit him in the stomach, knocking the breath out of him, but not cutting him.

Chronostasis growled, but kept that arrowhead in place to pin Hitoshi as he paced closer. The second arrow slipped from Chrono’s hood and shot toward Hitoshi.

Hitoshi’s eyes widened at his impending defeat. The idea he got then he later blamed on Izuku and Mei. The former’s habit of picking apart quirks and the latter’s propensity for finding or creating the perfect gear to neutralize someone must be contagious. Whatever the source of the inspiration, Hitoshi pulled his knife and slashed as the arrow flew towards him.

Chrono screamed and reared back as the arrowhead fell free and dissipated into individual hairs. Hitoshi tried not to think about how hair could hurt. He’d let Izuku go nuts with that one. All he needed to know was that it worked, and the guy wasn’t going to bleed out if, say, he did it again.

Hitoshi got to his feet once more and yanked on his capture weapon and the still snared arrow. As Chrono stumbled forward, Hitoshi brought his right knee up to meet the man’s masked face. Then he brought his knife down to sever the tangled arrow.

Chrono made a choked sound and lashed out wildly with a fist.

Now Hitoshi was in his element. He grabbed the man’s wrist and pulled him in for another knee, this time to the stomach followed by a jab to the side of the head.

Chrono was disoriented after that one and drunkenly backed away. A few seconds later he steadied and searched their surroundings for some advantage. The villain was three meters form Hitoshi now but less than one from the still slowed Aizawa.

Hitoshi didn’t realize what Chrono intended until it was too late.

The man pulled Aizawa’s knife from its sheath and ducked behind the teacher. He wrapped one hand around Aizawa’s throat and with the other held the knife to Aizawa’s ribs. “Let’s not be too hasty now,” Chronostasis hissed through clenched teeth, voice tight with pain. “Overhaul would prefer you both alive, but he trusts my judgment.”

Hitoshi froze with one hand on his capture weapon. With that placement, the knife would pierce his sensei’s heart if Chrono stabbed him.

That line of thought—and every other—was stopped by an echoing gunshot in the room above them.

---

“Shin!” Izuku yelled, unable to take his eyes off the deformed patch of floor Hitoshi, Aizawa and one of the villains had just disappeared through. Overhaul wouldn’t just kill his second, right? He didn’t just crush them in the ground. They were probably in another, lower passage. Yeah, that made sense.

Tiny arms tightened around his neck and drew his attention back to the girl in his arms. Eri was staring at where the others had been too. “S-sorry. My f-fault…” she murmured into his neck.

Izuku’s face twisted at the pain and guilt in Eri’s voice. Lemillion beat him to reassuring her, “Hey! It’s not your fault, and don’t worry, Eri. Eraserhead and Iwazaru can take care of themselves. They’re tougher than they look.”

When Izuku looked at Lemillion, his senpai’s eyes were on him, not Eri. Oh, that was meant to reassure him too. He offered a weak smile. Looking over the upperclassman, Izuku could see him still panting from holding off Chisaki and his three henchmen on his own. He didn’t look badly hurt aside from the bruises blooming up and down his arms in familiar branching patterns. And now that Lemillion wasn’t moving around, Izuku could see a slight swaying in his posture. That was definitely the aftereffects of Sakaki’s quirk, Sloshed. How was he even staying upright? Izuku narrowed his eyes at his senpai, earning a lopsided smile in response.

“Hey, Eri?” Izuku whispered. The girl didn’t meet his eyes but seemed to be listening. “Can you watch Lemillion for a few minutes for me? I want to check for escape routes and see if I can help the others real quick.”

Overhaul had blocked Mimic’s tunnel and the hallway when Izuku and Eri had gotten too close to them. They’d ended up hiding behind one of the larger stone spikes on the far side of the room from Nighteye and Overhaul’s fight. Except Izuku had probably blown their cover calling after Iwazaru. Given his senpai’s state—and the possible compromised structural integrity of the room from Overhaul’s quirk—Izuku didn’t feel asking Lemillion to smash through one of the walls into the hallway a wise choice. They needed another way out.

Eri nodded before loosening her grip on Izuku’s neck. Izuku handed her off to Lemillion. “You might want to move over there.” Izuku pointed to another cluster of large spikes. I’ll see what I can find and be right back.”

Lemillion bundled Eri in his arms before wrapping part of his cape around her—when did his cape get bullet holes in it?! “Stay safe, Deku.”

Izuku wasn’t the one with the worrying amount of costume damage, but sure. Izuku reluctantly left the pair to make their way to another hiding spot and made quick work of approaching the yakuza boss and pro hero duking it out.

When he finally got a line of sight on the fighting, the hero fanboy in Izuku woke up, and he watched in awe. He absentmindedly said, “Activate recording.” Hearing about Nighteye was one thing, but seeing him fight was something else entirely. He was so fast and always a step ahead of Overhaul’s reaching hands. Izuku caught a flash of purple from his mentor’s eyes and grinned as he crept closer. Nighteye was using Foresight. No way was Overhaul beating someone who could see the future.

And then something changed. The calm, focused look in Sir Nighteye’s eyes vanished, as did the purple glow. The man stumbled and stalled out just as Overhaul started lowering his hands to launch another wave of spikes from the ground. Nighteye wasn’t moving. Nighteye wasn’t moving!

Izuku was halfway there before he even felt the strain of his quirk or the spasm lancing through his calves and thighs. He reached out and shoved his mentor as hard as he could. He didn’t move as much as Izuku would have liked, but the spire aimed for Sir’s abdomen missed him by a hair. Another spike caught the hero in the shoulder, but it wasn’t a life-threatening location.

Izuku’s head rung as the spike he’d saved Sir from collided with the side of his helmet. He blinked spots from his eyes to find the right half of his helmet’s visor broken off. That could have gone worse. It took two seconds and following Nighteye’s horrified gaze for Izuku to realize it had. One of the smaller spikes had caught him just above his left elbow and pierced all the way through. Judging by the angle of his arm, the humerus was broken. The pain hit him all at once, and he quickly changed his assessment from broken to shattered.

A dark chuckle drew Izuku’s teary gaze toward the villain who’d injured both of them. Overhaul was impassive and collected as he studied them. “That takes you two out of the game. Now to deal with the last pest.” He slammed his hands onto the ground again, aiming right for the hiding spot Eri and Lemillion had been moving toward.

“Watch out!” Izuku yelled. He struggled to lift his arm free of the spike but aborted the movement almost immediately. The pain left him gasping and trying to shake his swimming vision back to normal. What was he thinking? If he took the spike out, he’d start bleeding heavily. Arteries ran next to bone, and he couldn’t tell right now if any had been severed.

He glanced back up in time to see Lemillion punch Overhaul solidly across the face. His cape was missing. He’d probably used it to make Eri feel more secure wherever he’d hidden her. Lemillion couldn’t watch her and fight all out at the same time. He needed help. Izuku pulled his knife from his boot sheath for the second time that day and started chipping away at the spike just before it entered his arm. At least this one was a more brittle composition than the walls Mimic had used.

As he worked, he kept glancing at the fight, just in case it got close enough for him to chance throwing his knife or a taser disc. (He just had to incapacitate the one arm that still had a gauntlet, didn’t he?)

He’d all but forgotten Nighteye until the man spoke up. “I saw myself die…”

Izuku faltered and looked into his mentor’s eyes and shivered at how haunted they looked. Or maybe he was going into shock. Maybe they both were. “Wh-what?”

“Foresight. I looked ahead. I knew better. It’s why I haven’t in six years, but…” Nighteye swallowed and blinked, seeming a touch more present when he met Izuku’s gaze afterward. “I died on that spire.” He nodded to the exact one Izuku had pushed him away from. “Then Lemillion was shot with…” Sir couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Izuku’s thought he knew where Nighteye was going and balked. No. Surely, he couldn’t mean that. Lemillion was…One for All couldn’t…

Overhaul roared behind him, and Izuku flinched, hissing in pain as the movement jarred his arm. He turned as far as he could and saw Overhaul pull a small box from his coat pocket. “Nemoto, end this insignificant hero!” The yakuza boss flung the box to one of the downed villains next to where the hallway had been.

One of them—presumably Nemoto—was awake again. And he had a gun. Izuku watched in mounting horror as Nemoto opened the case and removed a single bullet to load into his gun.

“They finished the formula,” Nighteye said resignedly.

Izuku’s horror morphed into anger, and he snarled as he slammed his blade into the spike holding him once more. “Don’t just stand there! Do something!”

Nighteye shook his head. “I’ve tried. So many times, I’ve tried, but it never changes what happens. The timeline fixes itself. Foresight’s never wrong.”

“Bull!” Izuku shouted, tracking Nemoto’s aim as he yanked hard on his trapped arm. The villain was aiming at something off to the side. Eri! Stone snapped, and Izuku was free if blinded by pain for a second. “You’re still alive aren’t you? The future can’t be set.” Izuku threw his knife to bury it in the spike next to Nighteye’s head. Then he drew himself up and started running. “And even if it is…” He leaped with everything Hyper-Processing could give him. The muscle spasms were nothing compared to the pain of his dangling arm. “I’ll smash that future!”

Izuku didn’t look at the villain as he moved. Instead, he locked his eyes on Eri and Lemillion who had already jumped in front of her to shield her with his body. He didn’t see Izuku, but Eri did. Her eyes were wide and afraid. Izuku smiled at her, trying to say “It’s okay; you’re safe now” with his expression alone. “Why? Because I am here.”

Izuku heard the gunshot at the same time as he felt it. The force of the hit to his side spun him before he crashed into the side of a spike and slid to the ground. Pain flooded him, white-hot and agonizing. Worse than when Sensei had given him his quirk. With every heartbeat, it increased. He gritted his teeth around a scream, not wanting to frighten Eri more than she already was. He tried to reach for the beacon on his belt, but his arms refused to cooperate. As pain gave way to blessed darkness, he could only hope the others would be okay.

---

Mirio thought being shot would be more painful. Had he accidentally activated Permeation? He had very purposely been trying to not activate it since he hadn’t reached Eri in time to use his quirk on her too. He was prepared to take the hit. But…there was nothing. Did Nemoto miss?

Eri was crying silently when Mirio reached her, and her eyes were focused on a point across the room. He heard something hit the ground. Somehow, he knew before he turned. Even when his eyes landed on Izuku curled in on himself and shaking with pain it didn’t seem real. After a few seconds, his kohai slumped, hopefully unconscious.

The world seemed frozen around Mirio. No one moved. A wisp of smoke still curled from the muzzle of Nemoto’s gun, and dust from Izuku’s landing settled, but there was no sound aside from the ringing steadily growing in Mirio’s ears.

Then a familiar grouch of an old man broke through one of the thinner spires blocking the hallway. Gran Torino took in the scene in half a second and changed trajectory with a blast of air from his feet. He landed solidly on Nemoto’s head, knocking him unconscious once more. He kicked the gun away for good measure.

The old man shot off again, grabbing Izuku under one arm before aiming toward Eri. “Lemillion, permeate now!”

Mirio’s training kicked in, and he followed the order without question. He thought it was strange that his ears still rang as he blindly sank into the ground. He held his quirk active for two seconds before releasing it. When light and sound flooded Mirio’s senses again, he distantly noted that there were a lot more spikes where he’d been standing than he remembered.

“Kid! Snap out of it!” Gran Torino’s gruff voice cut through the ringing to snag Mirio’s attention. The hero had Eri and Izuku in hand. Izuku looked too small as he hung limply from Torino’s grip. Mirio blinked and tried to focus on the Gran’s face. “Get your head on straight. We need to take down Overhaul. Or are you going to let an old man and your injured mentor do all the fighting for you?”

Injured? Mirio woodenly turned and stared in shock as he saw Sir fighting Overhaul with a spear of stone still lodged in his shoulder. The really weird thing was Sir was holding a large knife in one hand. As Mirio watched, another spike clipped Sir’s leg, making him stumble.

Mirio’s eyes widened as the world snapped back to full clarity. He set his face and looked back to All Might’s mentor. “No, sir. We’ll take him down.” His eyes fell to the two youngest. “But what about them?”

“Eh? Don’t worry about them. I’ll put them somewhere safe and be right behind you.” Never one to mince words, Gran jetted off, disappearing through the gap between spikes he’d entered the room through.

Knowing his kohai and Eri were out of harm’s way and upset that they’d ever been in harm’s way to begin with, Mirio called up One for All and leaped. Something roiled in his chest. A noxious mix of guilt, shame, and anger—no, rage—twisted his normally bright face into something less pleasant. He’d never been so angry before. Overhaul had to be stopped. He wasn’t going to hurt anyone else. Anyone else Mirio cared for. Anyone else Mirio should have protected.

Mirio pulled back a fist and channeled One for All as high as he dared, wishing he didn’t have to worry about bringing the whole subterranean structure down around them. He didn’t want to hold back. He wanted to make Overhaul pay. Something shifted in his chest, and the pale yellow sparks around Mirio’s arm darkened. It hurt, but not enough to drown out the pain in his heart at the knowledge his kohai had taken a bullet for him. (Would this end Deku’s career before it even started? Was Izuku even going to be okay? His quirk was in his nerves and brain!) Well before Mirio could make contact with Overhaul, roiling bands of black energy erupted from his hand, lashing at the villain with a mind of their own.

Chapter Text

Tamaki and Gran Torino raced down the empty hallway, looking for the rest of the underground assault team. Setsuno, Hojo, and Tabe had given the pair a little more trouble than expected, but they’d gone down eventually. Now they just had to regroup and rescue Eri.

Tamaki didn’t say it out loud, but he had a bad feeling about this mission, and it was more than his usual anxiety. And most of it had to do with Mirio. Tamaki had been friends with Mirio for nearly a decade, and he knew when something was bothering him, try as the smiling blonde might to hide it. Plus, well, it was kinda hard to deny that something was wrong when he’d been the one to help Mirio clean up his trashed dorm room after One for All went haywire in his sleep a few days ago. The incident had unnerved Mirio more than he admitted if the sudden uptick in late-night messages in their discord were anything to go by.

There’d been something in the air around Mirio since then, a sense of expectation, like the taste in the air before a storm broke. Tamaki wasn’t sure what was coming, but there was no way he’d let Mirio face it alone.

Tamaki’s breath caught as a sound echoed down the hallway: a gunshot. Gran Torino took off like a shot, following the sound around the next corner, and Tamaki picked up his pace. Several turns later Tamaki caught up with the surprisingly spry old man. He was checking over Deku, who lay motionless on the ground, and a little girl—Eri—hovered next to him, clinging to a too familiar piece of red fabric.

Tamaki tore his eyes away from the remnants of Lemillion’s cape to crouch next to Izuku. Half his helmet’s visor was gone, and Tamaki could see trails of blood drying under his nose. He wasn’t conscious, but his breathing seemed even and stable. “What happened?”

Gran Torino pursed his lips and removed his ungloved fingers from Deku’s right wrist where he’d been checking his pulse. “He took one of those bullets,” he said, pushing himself back to his feet and sliding his glove back on. “Nothing for it now but to put Overhaul in his place and get Deku medical attention. I’m going to help Nighteye and Lemillion. Keep an eye on the whippersnappers?”

Tamaki nodded, noting the mostly blocked doorway at the end of the hall that the pro jetted to. Then he focused back on his underclassman. He was more than capable of first aid, and the stone spike through Izuku’s left arm definitely needed some help. Blood was seeping from around the spike into a small pool on the floor.

Not wanting to make Eri feel forgotten, Tamaki spoke softly as he pulled his first aid supplies from their pouch. He didn’t look directly at her but kept her in his periphery as he tore a long strip from the end of his cloak to bind Izuku’s arm and stabilize the spike. Then he checked the rest of the boy over. There weren’t any other obvious injuries aside from a small patch of red on his side. It didn’t seem to be actively bleeding. So, Tamaki left it be.

Having done all he could for his young friend, he finally dared to turn his eyes to Eri, who had crept closer and closer as he treated Izuku. “Are you okay, Eri? Any booboos that need bandaging?” He stayed still and kept his posture loose as Eri turned wide, hesitant eyes on him. She stared a moment before shaking her head and sitting down to lean against Izuku’s uninjured side, returning her gaze to Izuku’s too pale face. Tamaki sighed and sat down a few feet away by Izuku’s head.

While they waited, Tamaki listened to the sounds of fighting and the rumbles in the floor, alert for any sign that they’d need to move. He wasn’t expecting to hear Mirio scream. Tamaki was on his feet and running while the sound still hung in the air. He manifested a crab claw with metal plating on his left arm augmented by bands of octopus muscle. At the same time, he changed his feet to chicken talons to get a better grip on the floor. He swung the claw like a wrecking ball through the stone spikes blocking the doorway. The stone gave as easily as drywall, and Tamaki froze with eyes wide.

The storm had broken. Mirio’s skin danced with the usual sparks like solar flares, but Tamaki’s best friend clutched his right wrist and hunched over in obvious pain. From his right hand, long black tentacles of…energy(?) spread and whipped about the room, tearing through spikes like paper and leaving gouges in the floor and walls.

Gran Torino was yelling at Mirio, but couldn’t get close without the tentacles lashing at him. Nighteye leaned against a larger spike a bit further away and panted for breath, eyes uncharacteristically worried. Overhaul was busy trying to avoid the black tentacles that appeared to be seeking him out with extreme prejudice.

Tamaki looked over his shoulder at Eri and Izuku, then back at Mirio. His best friend was in trouble and hurting, but these two needed him. A tremor crept up Tamaki’s arms as he did nothing but watch. He was so tense that when he heard footsteps approaching the bend in the hallway, he whirled and flung out a cluster of octopus tentacles faster than a blink. Luckily, he stopped them just shy of the hero intern.

“Uravity?”

Uravity waved, nervously glancing up at the poised tentacles. “Hey, Suneater. The police that brought Rock Lock out said you guys could use some help. Ryukyu’s on her way. And…” her voice trailed off as she noticed Deku. “Oh no! What happened?”

Tamaki relaxed and resorbed the tentacles as he replied, “He got shot with one of the bullets.” Tamaki flinched at another yell from Mirio. “Can you can watch him and Eri for me? Lemillion needs my help.”

Uravity set her face in determination behind her visor and nodded.

Tamaki didn’t need any further prompting to turn and run to aid his best friend. Tentacles on his right hand for mobility and ranged attacks, augmented crab claw on his left for close combat, chicken talons to give him more leverage and protect his feet from debris, clamshells sprouting from his back to protect him from stray whips of energy.

“Lemillion!” he called, racing across the devastated room. He ignored a yell from Gran Torino and ducked under a wild black tentacle. He threw up one of his octopus tentacles to tangle with a few of Mirio’s that got too close to Nighteye, then detached that tentacle as he felt those black bands of energy bind and start to constrict it. “Mirio!”

“T-tamaki?” Mirio opened one eye. Pained blue met determined indigo, and the black tentacles slowed momentarily.

Tamaki took full advantage of the fact and ate the last of the distance between them. He pressed his right side to Mirio’s left in reassurance and locked his eyes on Overhaul, who was taking a breather to warily eye them. “I’m here, Mirio. Think you can reel these…tentacles back in? Think about moving them like flexing your fingers.”

Mirio shook his head. “I tried that. They don’t respond like your quirk or like Permeation. I can’t—gah!” Mirio clutched at his arm again as the tentacles picked up speed once more, thrashing all around them.

Tamaki noted with interest that they didn’t get anywhere near him this time. Then he frowned. They’re made out of energy, not muscle; of course, they wouldn’t react the same way as Manifest. Permeation and One for All both relied on concentration too. What then was the trick to this power, and how did Mirio have it in the first place?

His frantic thought process was interrupted by the ceiling caving in between them and Overhaul. Well, that was one way for Ryukyu to make an entrance, and she brought Katsukame with her. And now part of the roof was caving in. This mission was cursed.

A section the size of a sedan broke loose directly above the two third years. “Mirio!” Tamaki yelled.

“I got it,” Mirio ground out, already straightening and reaching to grab Tamaki’s arm. Mirio’s quirk had other ideas. The slab of concrete and dirt and asphalt stopped a few meters above them. Familiar black bands of energy tangled around it, holding it up. No Permeation needed.

Tamaki blinked a few times as he took in the sight. Those were definitely stronger than his octopus tentacles. He checked on Mirio next. He was unsurprised to see Mirio’s own surprise bleed into a familiar burning determination. After all, the sun always rose, regardless of how long or dark the night. Tamaki didn’t quite smother his grin.

“Katsukame, you imbecile.”

Overhaul had simply dissolved any debris that fell near him, but he still didn’t look terribly happy about having to do so. The yakuza boss slammed his hands to the floor again, this time aiming the spears of stone at Ryukyu. They caught her across the side, though the sharpened ends broke on her scales rather than pierce them. Seeing this, Overhaul changed tack to a large pillar of stone that slammed the dragon heroine into a wall and pinned her there.

Overhaul took one step toward Ryukyu before a massive chunk of concrete was hurled at him. Oh, that was the one Mirio’s quirk had been holding. Mirio had pretty decent aim considering he’d only had this power a few minutes.

Tamaki spared his friend another glance to see confusion on his face. Nevermind then. Maybe the quirk was sentient? That might explain a lot, actually.

Setting that thought aside for later, Tamaki decided not to let Mirio have all the fun and enlarged the set of tentacles attached to his right hand. Following Mirio’s unintended lead he started hurling any chunks of rubble small enough for him to lift at Overhaul. He may not be able to fight Chisaki directly, given the man’s quirk, but he was more than capable of laying down some improvised suppression fire and keeping the villain away from his allies.

Mirio didn’t face the same risk with his own tentacles being energy-based. There was nothing for Overhaul’s quirk to work on. So, the pair fought at range with their respective tentacles and strategies, and Tamaki tried his best to ground Mirio whenever his quirk fluctuated painfully. The tentacles seemed to respond to Mirio’s distress, growing wilder when he was in pain or unfocused.

The fact Mirio had thus far been unable to deactivate his quirk worried Tamaki, but he refused to let it distract him from what was happening in the rest of the room. Ryukyu was unconscious and had dropped out of her transformation, Gran Torino and Nighteye stood guard over her, Nighteye was yelling orders to someone, Katsukame was thankfully unconscious as well, but Chisaki seemed intent on getting to him for some reason. Nejire used her quirk behind Tamaki, and a quick glance revealed her dropping into a hole in the floor alongside Froppy.

Things settled into a stalemate as the minutes stretched on, and Tamaki felt Mirio shudder beside him. In a low voice that only Tamaki was close enough to hear, Mirio admitted, “I can barely move my arm right now. It’s all fuzzy and numb or shooting pain. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.”

Tamaki nudged his best friend with his shoulder, careful not to let his worry show on his face. “Don’t go underestimating yourself. That’s my thing.”

That startled a laugh out of Mirio, and he turned to look at Tamaki. “It used to be you mean. You’re a great hero, Suneater.”

“And you’re a hero who shines brighter than the sun, Lemillion.” He’d been using that comparison since they were in middle school, and he’d stop using it the day it stopped applying.

Mirio grinned and shook his head at Tamaki. Mirio eyed the black tentacles that he was only half controlling. “I’ve still got a lot of hard work ahead of me, but…” Mirio nudged Tamaki. “I’ve no doubt I’ll get there as long as I’ve got you by my side.”

Tamaki hoped Mirio would see what he did one day. His friend was already an amazing hero and was only going to keep growing. Mirio saw all of his flaws and used them to gauge what he still needed to work on, but he seemed blind to all the places he already shone.

Tamaki could wait. He squared his shoulders and snapped a stone spike free from the ground to hurl at Chisaki. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Their banter was interrupted by a shout behind them. On reflex, Tamaki expanded the clamshell on his right to shield Mirio’s back as he looked over his shoulder. Nejire was carrying an unmoving Eraserhead as she flew back up through the hole in the ground. She was closely followed by Froppy whose tongue was wrapped around a man in a hood and plague mask and Uravity with Iwazaru’s arms around her shoulders.

Wait, Uravity?

“Uravity, why’d you leave Deku and Eri?”

Uravity frowned at him with obvious confusion. “Deku? What are you talking about? I haven’t seen him or Eri. I just got here.”

“Yeah, Tamaki. She’s been with me and Ryukyu the whole time,” Nejire chimed in.

Ice poured down Tamaki’s spine. If Uravity was here, then who did he leave his comatose friend and Eri with?

---

Himiko and Twice crept through one of the vents they’d memorized until the sound of fighting reached them and the walls around them faintly trembled. She was a little disgruntled that the yakuza had already thought to wipe the computers in their labs. Who knew what juicy research those had held?

Tomura would be disappointed; all the samples had been ruined, vials smashed and mixed with noxious chemicals. Though she did snag a few untouched vials of Trigger from the lab’s refrigerator. The grunt who’d wiped the computers and trashed the lab probably wanted to keep those for himself. At least she got to stab him. The memory of his choked off scream made her smile.

She shook off the memory when a tantalizing smell reached her nose. Blood, and not just anyone’s. Izukun’s. The smile fell from her face a moment later. Tomura asked them to keep his danger magnet best friend safe. She slipped out of the first vent cover she came across, landing gracefully in a crouch. Twice followed her and landed on his face. She couldn’t keep herself from giggling. She knew having her handkerchief tied around half his face was throwing off his depth perception, but it was still funny.

“Stay here for a few minutes, Jin,” Himiko said as she tossed him her sweater.

Jin caught it, then hastily turned around when her skirt and blouse followed. He waited to turn back around until Himiko finished transforming and said in her new voice, “Izukun’s hurt. I’m going to see where he is. If I’m not back in five minutes, come find me.” Twice shot her a thumbs up and tied all her discarded clothing into a bundle as she sprinted away.

Her morph of choice today was Uraraka. She was so pretty! Not that she didn’t enjoy her male morphs, but there was something nice about being someone with feminine beauty and the confidence to flaunt it in a skintight costume. No one really seemed to notice Himiko when she was herself. Maybe it was the baggy sweaters? But they were so comfy and great for hiding knives in!

Himiko sighed, almost wishing she could stay Uraraka forever. Sadly, she had only gotten enough blood from the brunette to let her take the girl’s form for a total of 23 hours. She had several other morphs stored within her quirk, but she always rationed out time spent as her favorites. Izukun was well worth a few minutes as Uraraka. Maybe she’d even be able to get some more blood from him too! If he wasn’t too injured already.

She mentally tracked her quirk’s countdown as she rounded corner after corner, following her nose. She could hear more of the fighting as she took yet another corner. Oh. She was here. She slid into character with practiced ease and sent Suneater off to help his boyfriend. He was too cute! Himiko barely resisted teasing him about it.

Once Suneater was out of sight, Himiko let up on her act and crouched down next to Izukun and Eri. Tomura had mentioned Eri too. Seeing the little girl’s arms wrapped in bandages, and smelling the old blood on them, Himiko thought about how many smashed vials in the lab had been blood and tissue samples. For the first time in years, the thought of blood made her stomach turn.

Eri couldn’t be older than five or six, and the yakuza had done this to her, had been doing this to her for months. She hadn’t even done anything to earn that treatment. Not like Himiko. Memories of injured birds and looks of disgust and fear threatened to consume her.

She took quick stock of the pair to distract herself, eyes lingering only a moment on the puddle of blood under Izukun’s injured arm. Not worth the risk. He could still have some of the quirk erasing drug in his system, and Himiko didn’t want to know what would happen if it was ingested instead of injected. She quickly found something else to latch onto. Izuku had Tomura’s GPS beacon on him. On his hero costume. Himiko was sure Tomura would just about die when she told him.

Himiko put on her best reassuring smile for Eri, hoping it was more effective as Uraraka than it seemed to be as herself. “Hi there, Eri. My name’s Toga. Can you keep a secret?”

Eri looked up at her with fearful eyes. That’s par for the course when Himiko talked to someone, but she’d seen the girl give Suneater the same look. Oh, those yakuza assholes were going to get it. Himiko was going to bleed them all dry.

When Eri barely nodded her head in answer to Himiko’s question, she gave Eri another grin. Then she leaned in and cupped a hand to her visor in front of her mouth. “I’m a friend of Deku’s.” When the little girl’s eyes lit up, Himiko continued, “I’m a secret friend. Some of the other heroes don’t like me.”

Eri nodded understandingly. “No one likes me either.”

Yep, she was going to enjoy ripping Overhaul apart. “I like you.”

The girls traded whispered secrets for a few more minutes until Twice arrived. “Jin!” Himiko called bouncing to her feet. “We need to get Izukun and his friend to an ambulance.”

Twice took one look at the situation and declared, “I’ve got just the person for this! No, we’re doomed.”

“Deku’s…my friend?”

Himiko turned back to face Eri. “Well, of course. He was very worried about you.”

Eri thought long and hard about that apparent revelation. Reaching some conclusion, Eri pulled the torn cape from her shoulders and draped it over Izukun’s chest and arms. When Himiko shot her a questioning look, the little girl said, “To keep him safe.”

Meanwhile, Twice had been hard at work making one of his clones. Mr. Compress soon stood before them. “Oh? Is it my act already?” the clone asked when finished.

“Mhm, we need to take these two and get out of here,” Himiko said. There was a loud crash from the room Suneater had disappeared into. “Preferably before they bring the whole place down.”

“That is well within a humble magician’s purview,” Mr. Compress said with a slight bow. “Pardon me, little miss. This will feel strange, but you’ll be out in no time.” He tapped Eri’s forehead first, then Izukun. Both disappeared into marbles.

After pocketing the two he turned to the wall and tapped a finger on his chin. “Yes, I suppose that will work. Normally, I’m opposed to such brutish tactics, but it sounds like that battle is reaching a climax that we do not wish to be present for.” He touched a hand to the wall and a large chunk of it and the dirt behind it vanished into a marble.

As they tunneled their way up and out, Himiko picked up the resulting marbles. Depending on how the heroes fared, they might need the ammunition. One more use of Mr. Compress’s quirk and sunlight greeted them. Himiko climbed out first to ensure the area was clear. They’d lucked out and come up in an evacuated house’s backyard. Once the other two were up, Himiko took Izukun and Eri’s marbles and ran toward flashing red and blue lights.

Under any other circumstance, she’d do the opposite, but Tomura had faith in her and Twice. She wasn’t going to let him down. She’d make sure Izukun was alright, and she’d get revenge for him and Big Sis Magne. But not too much. Tomura was going to want his own payback once she told him about Izukun.

When she was uncomfortably close to the police line, she smashed the two marbles against the ground, releasing Izukun and Eri. Eri blinked owlishly as Himiko jumped up and down yelling, “Paramedic! We need help!”

Once she’d gotten their attention, she crouched beside Eri. “Can you take care of Izukun for me? I need to go.”

Eri looked afraid but nodded. Himiko hoped it was courage and not conditioning to always do what was asked of her. The heroes and doctors could take care of her. Himiko had a yakuza boss to…mostly kill.

Himiko sucked in a breath and erased her presence. She almost lost it immediately at the comical awe that painted itself on Eri’s face. But Himiko kept her composure and walked away, unnoticed by any of the first responders that swarmed Eri and Izuku a minute later. She let out her held breath once safely in an alley. When she made it back to the guys, she dropped the morph and put her clothes back on. Once situated, the trio of villains warily climbed onto the house’s roof and made their way toward the ongoing fight.

Who won didn’t really matter to Himiko. Either the heroes would pound Overhaul, and they’d get to watch from a safe distance and maybe record some cell phone footage to show Tomura, or there would be a few fewer heroes on the League’s tail. If it was the latter, she, Twice, and Compress could pick Overhaul off while he thought he was in the clear. Himiko could just imagine his look of surprise when she shoved a knife through his lung out of nowhere. (Yakuza boss man could live a little while that way…in Compress’s quirk…as long as he didn’t remove the blade. Tomura wanted to deal with him personally, after all.)

Taking her cell phone from her sweater’s pocket, she dialed Tomura’s number. If Handyman was willing to risk this to get revenge for Big Sis’s arm, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he’d do when he found out Izuku’d been shot and lost his quirk. “You’d better pull through Izukun, or Handyman is going to do something reckless.”

Chapter Text

“What do you mean there was a second me?!”

Hitoshi flinched at Uraraka’s volume right next to his ear. “Must have been Toga,” he reasoned. “But they’re gone now.” Uraraka had checked the hallway herself. There was a drying puddle of blood and a tunnel bored through one wall that led to the surface, but no people.

He felt bad for his bluntness when Togata’s quirk wigged out a moment later. The third year was tough. So, seeing him doubled over and grinding his teeth really said something.

“Get back!” Amajiki warned. The usually timid student stood solidly beside his friend, seemingly unafraid of being hurt himself. He threw a pair of tentacles up to block a few stray bands of black energy that were headed towards Hitoshi and Uraraka.

“His quirk out of control?” Hitoshi asked, refusing to wonder how on earth someone who could phase through things suddenly had energy whip/tentacle things sprouting from his hand.

“Yeah.”

“I can help. Togata! Do you want me to help?” Hitoshi focused his quirk on the blonde, waiting to feel that thread connecting them.

“Y-yes…” Togata hissed.

It was enough. Hitoshi grabbed the thread and pulled hard. Once he felt the connection solidify, he commanded, “Shut off your quirk.”

The black tentacles slowed before stopping and retreating through the tears in Togata’s glove to disappear beneath his skin. The sparks across his body died out last.

Hitoshi breathed a sigh of relief and was about to release Togata when something foreign cut his thread. Hitoshi reeled, barely even noticing Togata move. In a heartbeat, he was between Hitoshi and the yakuza boss on the other end of the room. Togata unleashed an All Might level smash, destroying a wave of spikes that had been heading straight for him and Uraraka.

While Togata was distracted protecting them, Overhaul sprinted to his fallen minion. Then something straight out of a horror movie happened. Overhaul’s quirk disassembled and reassembled matter. Hitoshi had never expected Overhaul to use it to combine himself and Katsukame into one giant nightmarish monstrosity.

“Well, I’m not sleeping for a week. Uraraka,” Hitoshi whispered. “Go get backup. I have a feeling we’re going to need it.” Tsu, Hado, and Gran Torino had already left to take Ryukyu, Eraserhead, and Chronostasis to the paramedics and police respectively. It was just them, Togata, and Amajiki left.

“What about you? You’re hurt,” she protested.

“With Aizawa down, I’m the only one who can help Togata if his quirk goes off the rails again. I’m staying, but I’ll stay out of the way. I am not fighting that…” He pointed as the villain. “Directly.”

Uraraka still seemed hesitant, but eventually nodded. “I’ll be back.” She canceled her gravity, and Hitoshi gave her a boost toward the opening in the roof.

Then it was the three UA students and Overhaul/Katsukame. Was Katsukame even alive now? Did Overhaul just kill one of his own lackeys in front of them? Whatever the answers, they had to deal with the four-armed monstrosity now. Or, more accurately, Amajiki and Togata had to deal with the monstrosity, and Hitoshi had to stay out of their way.

Hitoshi eagerly disappeared further into the room, removing himself from Overhaul’s line of sight. He didn’t need to be able to see to help. He leaned heavily on each spike of stone as he hobbled from one to the next, using his other hand to tune his artificial vocal cords. He’d only get one shot at catching Chisaki. If he was lucky. If he wasn’t…well, he could at least keep an eye on the two tied up yakuza goons by the hallway.

“Test test…ah, there we go,” Hitoshi said under his breath when he got the settings just right. He turned on his comm, hoping Amajiki at least had his on him. “Iwazaru to Suneater and Lemillion. I’m going to try to catch Overhaul with my quirk. Start bantering.”

“Roger.” Was the only response from Amajiki.

Hitoshi crept and stumbled toward the middle of the room, twisting around too many too large spikes until he found a good position to watch both Chisaki and the unconscious henchmen. Then he waited.

Hitoshi saw Amajiki whisper a quick conversation with Togata before Togata nodded. The pair of third years leaped back into action a moment later. This time Togata used his phasing ability instead of whatever cthulu nonsense he’d unleashed earlier. Just like Togata had mopped the floor with 1-A, he landed hit after hit after hit on Chisaki without the latter being able to retaliate. Amajiki continued operating as ranged support, throwing any debris close to hand at the villain whenever Togata dropped out of sight.

“Surrender, Overhaul,” Amajiki called with hardly a tremble.

“You heroes and your quirks…” Overhaul snarled. “You’re everything that’s wrong with this diseased world.”

Oh, was the villain going to monologue? This was going to be easier than Hitoshi anticipated. Hitoshi tuned out Overhaul’s increasingly unhinged speech, waiting for his opportunity.

Finally, Togata stayed solid long enough to start talking. “Quirks aren’t the problem, Overhaul. Its people like you who abuse their power. You’ve already lost.”

Overhaul, the gifted orator that he was, screamed his rage and sent a wave of stone spears at Togata. Togata dropped back through the ground like he had every other time Chisaki had tried the move.

That’s when Hitoshi struck, his voice matching Togata’s perfectly. “Don’t believe me? Look around you. Where’s Eri?”

That seemed to give the villain pause, and his wide, wild eyes swept the room. Chisaki didn’t need to know that the League had taken Eri; he just needed to know that he’d lost her. The villain roared, “Where did y—”

Hitoshi smiled behind his mask as he sank his metaphorical claws into Chisaki. There was beautiful silence for five seconds. Then something ripped Hitoshi’s connection to the man apart, and the enraged roar was back, and Chisaki’s eyes met Hitoshi’s.

Shit. Hitoshi flung his capture weapon out for the closest spire and yanked himself out of the path of a large series of spikes and pillars. He landed wrong and fell, chunks of rock and something metallic digging into his ribs.

What just happened? Hitoshi blinked slight dizziness away as he processed. Brainwashing worked. Chisaki shouldn’t have been able to break out of it…unless it wasn’t him that broke Hitoshi’s hold. If Katsukame was alive in that amalgamation and at least semi-aware that would explain things, and wow did that make what Chisaki had done even creepier. And Katsukame had still defended his boss despite being scrapped for parts. How messed up was this group?

…How messed up was Togata if he’d been able to break out of Brainwashing the same way? That gave Hitoshi pause. His hold being broken had felt the same both times, albeit Togata’s snapping out of it had been…more polite? Less forceful and disorienting? Hitoshi decided he’d talk to Togata—and maybe Aizawa—later about Togata’s…what? Split personalities? He got a headache just thinking about all the not good implications. At least whatever was up with Togata, he’d broken out of Brainwashing to protect Hitoshi and Uraraka.

He huffed as he pushed himself onto his hands and knees. “The debrief for this mission is going to be a nightmare.” Well, a second nightmare; this one wasn’t over yet.

The ground still rumbled ominously, and bits of debris continued to fall from the crumbling ceiling as the others fought. A sharp cry from Amajiki made Hitoshi jerk his head up and stumble to his feet. He whirled toward the sound, leaning on a spike to keep from falling. Amajiki had been hit clean across the room, and he was holding his ribs with his right hand. The large crab claw on his left hand was cracked in several places.

“Tamaki!” Togata yelled. When Chisaki dared to make a move toward the injured third year, uncommon rage entered the blonde’s voice. “You stay away from him!” And the black tentacles were back. At least Togata seemed to be more in control of them this time? Considering all of them were wrapped around the villain’s arms and legs, Hitoshi decided not to interfere just yet.

Another bit of ceiling crumbled and fell a foot away from Hitoshi, snapping his attention away from the fight. He should probably move the captured henchmen out into the hall for their own safety. He wasn’t going to be able to get one over on Overhaul now anyway. Keeping one ear on the fight, he turned to hobble toward the two masked and restrained villains.

He took two steps before his left boot clicked against something metal. He glanced down to see it was a handgun. Hitoshi hesitantly picked the weapon up and ejected the clip like Eraserhead had shown him. (Disarming an opponent’s weapon was just as important as securing that opponent in a multi-person fight; leave a loaded gun lying around for another enemy to claim and use against you was illogical.) The clip was half full with quirk erasing bullets.

Another yell behind him, this time from Togata. He looked over his shoulder in time to see his senpai drop through the floor to avoid Chisaki’s reforming arms. Did that bastard really just disassemble and reassemble his limbs to escape the tentacles? Didn’t that hurt? More importantly, how were they supposed to win against an enemy who could erase any damage they inflicted with one use of his quirk when all the villain had to do was touch Amajiki or Togata with a hand once to kill (or absorb) them?

Togata shot up from the ground to put himself between Amajiki and Overhaul as he whipped out those tentacles again. His face was as fierce and determined as ever, but from this angle, Hitoshi could also see the pain there and the blood staining Togata’s shredded glove. Togata’s quirk was hurting him. He had to be near or at quirk exhaustion, and he was still using it to protect his best friend.

Hitoshi blinked as words he’d heard earlier today came back to mind. “What would you do to keep a friend safe? What rules would you be willing to break? How far would you go?” Since Toga first posed the question Hitoshi hadn’t been able to protect Izuku, and so many others had gotten hurt. He hadn’t been able to do anything to help Izuku or Aizawa. Instead, he’d gotten injured and needed rescuing himself. But he sure as hell could help now. No one else was getting hurt on his watch.

The clip clicked back into place.

---

Mirio sort of knew how to use Black Whip now thanks to the vision(?) with the vestiges he had while under Iwazaru’s quirk. He and All Might were going to have to have a long conversation when this was over. No one had said anything about One for All being haunted. And the whole inheriting six new quirks thing? Mirio didn’t even know where to start on that. Those were problems for later.

For now, Mirio needed Overhaul to just. Stay. Down. He’d punched the guy in the head half a dozen times but hadn’t managed a knockout. And Chisaki just repaired the damage of anything not immediately incapacitating.

Mirio and Tamaki were tired. Mirio still couldn’t properly move his right arm, and he hoped that was a temporary side effect of overusing Black Whip. Tamaki and Nejire might kill him if he’d done himself permanent harm…after Recovery Girl was done killing him, that was.

Mirio Permeated through another swipe of a too-large hand and unleashed a One for All-infused punch on the back of that wrist as it passed him. He felt bones snap under the blow, but knew the hit was pointless with Chisaki’s quirk in play.

Tamaki knew it too. “We need to change tactics,” his quiet friend said, finally rejoining him in the fight. The way Tamaki held himself, he likely had bruised or broken ribs.

Mirio ground his teeth but didn’t say anything, already knowing Tamaki’d refuse to let him fight alone. They were doing this together. They had to. They were going to hold out until backup arrived or an opportunity presented itself; then they were going to defeat Chisaki. Neither of them expected said opportunity to come a few seconds later.

A gunshot rang through the space, and Overhaul jerked sideways, eyes wide and panicked. His quirk activated, this time splitting him and Katsukame apart into separate people. Katsukame was a lot smaller than he’d been when Overhaul fused with him and still unconscious. Overhaul stumbled backward away from Katsukame, breathing rapidly. Then he slammed a hand to the ground and laughed when his quirk sent a rolling wave through the ground followed by more spikes.

As for the gunman…Mirio spun away from the attack, scanning the room for Nemoto or Sakaki or any of the other Eight Bullets as he moved. He blinked in surprise when he instead found Hitoshi lowering a familiar handgun. Did he just…?

Tamaki huffed a soft laugh as he landed beside Mirio again. “Nice shot, Iwazaru. We’ll take it from here.” Tamaki let the half-crumbled remains of his crab claw slough off. Once both of his hands were free, he opened one of the pockets on his bulletproof vest to pull out a small tin of something that smelled fishy when opened. He tossed the contents back and discarded the tin before slipping his visor and vest off. He gave Mirio an expectant look.

Mirio’s attention was torn between his best friend and the slowly retreating form of Iwazaru as he made for the doorway to the hall. “Right. We’ve got this. Together.” Mirio laid a hand on Tamaki’s shoulder to keep his friend’s hands free and activated his original quirk. He held his quirk for two seconds before releasing it, angling his body to bring him and Tamaki out of the ground behind Chisaki.

Vision returned just in time for Mirio to see Tamaki slam Overhaul in the side with his octopus tentacles. Without all the extra bulk from Katsukame, Overhaul skidded and skipped across the concrete until he collided with the base of a spike.

“You’re starting to get really annoying,” the villain panted as he rose to a crouch. A shift of his hand on the ground and a massive pillar rose from the ground to fly towards the two students.

Instead of dipping back underground with Mirio’s quirk, Tamaki flung Mirio toward the pillar with his tentacles before leaping aside. Mirio soared through the pillar and shot out the other end to deliver a punch right below Overhaul’s sternum. The villain folded but still reached for Mirio. Mirio let Overhaul’s hand phase right through him but frowned when Overhaul used his quirk on himself again. “Man, even a solid liver shot won’t keep you down, huh?”

The only answer he got was a wordless snarl.

Mirio delivered a few more punishing blows before breaking away to rejoin Tamaki. Tamaki had been busy in his absence, coating himself in dozens of calcium carbonate plates with attached spines to match the can of sea urchin he’d eaten before their joint attack. The spines weren’t particularly sharp, but they were reinforced by steel. “Remember that move Uravity pulled in the Sports Festival?” Tamaki asked.

Mirio grinned. He, Tamaki, and Nejire had camped out in the stands for the other years’ festivals every year they attended UA and smuggled tons of junk food into the arena. (Aizawa was the only one to catch them so far, but he didn’t care as long as they also smuggled in some of the good coffee from the shop down the street.) They placed bets with candy on who they thought would win, saw who could steal more from their friends’ piles without getting caught, and generally had a great time. This year had been especially intense.

“The meteor shower? That was awesome and might be helpful here, but I’m not sure how long she’ll be,” Mirio pointed out.

Tamaki grinned. “What if we made our own?” he asked, detaching one of the plates on his arm as he spoke.

Mirio’s eyes went wide, and he smiled. “Tamaki, you’re a genius.” Mirio eyed the distance between them and Overhaul, estimating travel time. “Go at three seconds. Ready?”

Tamaki nodded and grabbed Mirio’s hand. “Follow up with our special.”

Mirio hummed his agreement. Then he activated Permeation. After two seconds, he released it again. At four they sprung from the ground behind Chisaki again, this time with the sound of multiple hard objects impacting the ceiling behind them. Mirio landed and spun with a healthy serving of One for All to throw Tamaki—minus all of his bony plates—back at the distracted villain. “Phantom…”

“Chimera Kraken!” Tamaki flung out a swath of octopus tentacles before detaching them not a moment too soon. The tentacles burst into a fine, red mist to reveal a rather smug, if battered, Overhaul. That smugness vanished the moment he saw Tamaki still flying toward him with chicken wings and claws, a bony mask over his face, and a steel-tipped swordfish’s bill for a left hand.

Tamaki crashed into Overhaul head first, cracking his mask against Chisaki’s skull. Before the yakuza could shake his disorientation, Tamaki bowled him over. The villain’s right arm was hastily pinned by the swordfish bill speared through his forearm and into the ground, and his left arm was pinned under a taloned foot planted just far enough up the man’s forearm to make touching Tamaki with that hand impossible. Tamaki shifted his other talon to rest over the villain’s thighs, gripping his legs just enough to let him feel the claws through the fabric of his pants in silent threat.

Tamaki panted and threw a look over his shoulder at Mirio. Mirio got the message and ran forward to deliver an enhanced kick to the side of Chisaki’s head and finally, finally knock him out. Tamaki’s shoulders sagged in relief, but he didn’t move from atop the villain. Mirio couldn’t blame him. He didn’t trust the yakuza leader to stay down either.

“I got him. Tell the cops to bring the quirk restraints?” Tamaki asked, sprouting octopus tentacles from his free right hand to wrap carefully around Mirio’s torso.

“Sure thing. Try not to have too much fun while I’m gone,” Mirio said with a wide grin. He didn’t comment on how this batch of tentacles were thinner or how the limbs trembled with fatigue. Tamaki deserved a trip to an all you can eat buffet after this. They hadn’t visited the one near UA in a while. They’d have to introduce their kohais to it sometime.

“No promises.” Tamaki gave him one of his less shaky grins before flicking Mirio into the air with his tentacles. Mirio soared up and through the ceiling embedded with giant urchin spines and plates. His sight returned to him as he flew into the air above a residential street. After what felt like hours stuck in stuffy and stale underground passages, he relished the fresh breeze and westering sun on his skin. He caught sight of the flashing lights marking the perimeter and hit the ground running. It was over.

Chapter Text

“What did you expect to happen?” Shota asked, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “The child is traumatized, has been experimented on for an unknown length of time, was just rescued from a hero/villain fight, and was clinging to the one familiar person around her.” He bit back a growl of frustration and took a deep breath in its place. “The white coats probably didn’t help either,” he added as an afterthought.

The doctor in charge of Eri’s case grimaced. “Yes, her reaction was warranted in retrospect, but we had to get Midoriya into surgery.”

Shota sighed and looked back through the observation window at the little girl huddled on the floor in a corner of the quarantine room. She didn’t seem aware of them watching her. She had been staring off into space since Shota arrived, the only action she’d taken the tracing of her fingers over the neon pink band wrapped snuggly around her wrist.

A quirk suppressor. Her quirk flare had been bad enough to necessitate them using a suppressor.

The second Midoriya and Eri arrived at the hospital, the staff had tried to separate them to take Midoriya to ICU. Eri had not taken it well when a nurse picked her up and carried her away from the hero student. The nurse was okay, if a decade younger than she’d been this morning, but Eri’s quirk hadn’t shut off until an orderly snapped one of the “child-friendly” suppressors on her. Eri hadn’t spoken a word since.

Something in Shota’s chest ached. “If I stay on-premise, can we take the suppressor off?” He couldn’t imagine the constant quirk disruptive energy field it produced was good for her system when she was already anemic and malnourished. Fuck, how had they gotten blood to run her labwork? Shota didn’t even want to think about that one when Overhaul had been taking constant blood and tissue samples for his experiments.

The doctor hesitated a few seconds before nodding. He took a step toward the door, but Shota caught the handle before him. Shota gave him and his lab coat a pointed look. The doctor blinked before nodding. “R-right. I’ll go hang my coat up in my office.”

“Don’t bother. I got it. She could use a familiar face right now, and she might remember me from the raid.”

This time the doctor gave the hero a skeptical look. Yes, Shota’s left arm was in a sling for a shoulder sprain, but he was plenty capable of peeling off a glorified slap bracelet. Besides, the sling might make him look less threatening. The doctor conceded the staring contest after a minute and turned back to the window with an exasperated sigh.

Shota opened the door and gave a soft “hello” as he entered. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he closed the door behind him, noting her intent focus on him and rigid posture. Rather than approach her directly, he slid into a chair halfway between her and the door. “Do you remember me, Eri?” he asked, using the tone he reserved for traumatized civilians and stray cats.

Eri tilted her head slightly, reminding Shota even more of a kitten. After a few seconds of consideration, the girl nodded. “You were with the heroes.” Her voice was as tiny as a kitten’s meow too.

Shota just stopped himself from grinning at the comparison. “My hero name is Eraserhead. My real name’s Aizawa.” He let the girl test his name a few times before speaking again. “Do you want me to take your bracelet off? The doctor said it doesn’t have to stay on now.”

She eyed Shota as if he were dangerous until her eyes suddenly brightened. “You know Lemillion and Deku?”

Shota smiled. “I teach Deku’s class at UA. Lemillion goes to school there too.”

Eri stared at him. Then she warily stood and approached him. Despite reminding him so much of a kitten, Shota decided her courage put her closer to a leopard cat. He didn’t move or make a sound until she was right in front of him. “Let me see your hand, kid.” He held his own out, leaving her to initiate contact.

She started to raise her arm but hesitated. “My quirk…”

“Won’t hurt me. My quirk stops other quirks.” When she looked at him with wide eyes, Shota let himself grin. “Want to see?”

Eri nodded wordlessly, and Shota activated Erasure. Eri blinked in surprise but didn’t back away. Shota honestly wouldn’t have been blamed her if she did. He’d heard his quirk—especially its effect on his eyes—described as scary plenty in his lifetime. Apparently an exception to that popular opinion, Eri took two steps forward and stood on her tiptoes to poke at his hair. “It floats…” She blinked again when her eyes met his. “…and your eyes are like mine.”

That surprised Shota enough to earn her a blink. Eri watched his hair fall back around his shoulders. She looked him over once more, eyes finally landing on his still outstretched hand. She tentatively set her hand in his.

Shota gave her a small smile and turned her hand over until he found the bracelet’s magnetic latch. Awkwardly maneuvering his left hand to grip one side of the band, he took the other in his right and pulled them apart at the angle he knew would disengage the magnets. With a quiet snap, the bracelet loosened. Shota uncurled the bright band of plastic-wrapped metal and circuitry until it clicked back into a perfectly straight length with a slight curl across its much shorter width.

Now that it wasn’t forcibly attached to her wrist, Eri seemed fascinated by the device as well. Shota took a minute to show her how slapping it against the arm of his chair made it coil back into bracelet form and trigger the small blue light that indicated the band was active. He unwound it again and handed it to her to try. Her first tap of the band against the chair arm so too light to trigger a proper snap, though the band did bend at one point. She pouted at her failed attempt before a much more successful second try.

After a few more successful uses, Eri started giving Shota sideways glances. The kid tried to be subtle, but he could still read her curiosity and nervousness. “You can ask me questions if you want. I’m sure everyone else has been asking you plenty. Only seems fair that I answer a few of yours.”

Eri quickly looked away, tensing her shoulders when she realized she’d been caught. She relaxed a few seconds later when nothing happened and dared to look at him once more. “Lemillion and Deku…are they okay?”

Shota let out a quiet breath. “I actually came to check up on you first, because I knew they’d want to know how you’re doing. Deku’s next on my list. He should be out of surgery about now…” Damn it, he shouldn’t have mentioned the surgery. Now Eri looked like she might cry. “He was the worst hurt. Everyone else should be fine. Want me to go check on Deku and Lemillion for you?”

Eri nodded much more assuredly than he’d seen from her previously.

“Alright. I might be gone an hour or two, but I’ll come back. Hold onto that bracelet. If your quirk starts acting up while I’m gone, you can slap it back on your wrist, but I don’t want you wearing it unless you absolutely need to. Okay, kid?”

Eri looked between Shota and the bracelet before giving a quiet “okay.”

Shota stood up and stretched, feeling his back pop twice. “Need help climbing onto the bed? It’s more comfortable than sitting in the corner.” When Eri hesitantly shook her head, Shota held back a frown, wondering if it was the medical equipment making her so nervous. Either way, it was going to get cold huddled on the tile floor. A decision was quickly made, and the blanket and pillow were dragged from the bed and deposited in Eri’s chosen corner.

That done, Shota headed for the door, pausing beside Eri. He started to reach to ruffle her hair before catching himself. When Eri looked up at him but didn’t move away, he grinned at her and very gently and slowly patted her head. Her confusion at the gesture was almost worse than her fear when he first entered the room.

Deku’s room in ICU was an elevator ride and ten-minute walk away. He was out of surgery, but not out of danger if they were keeping him here. Even Rock Lock had already been moved to a regular room after the surgery for his stab wound, and that had nicked his spleen. Shota tried not to worry as he waited by the nurse’s station for one of them to fetch the doctor running Deku’s case.

When the doctor arrived, the two of them walked into the kid’s room before talking. Shota raised an eyebrow when they found Sir Nighteye camped out in a chair beside the bed. His right shoulder was heavily bandaged, and that arm was in a sling. Another bandage showed beneath the hem of his hospital gown to wrap his left calf, and a crutch sat propped against the wall in arm’s reach The doctor frowned at the sight. “You,” he said, wagging his pen at the pro hero. “Are supposed to be sleeping. Healing quirks and surgery don’t do any good if you don’t get enough rest for them to work.”

Sir Nighteye didn’t look sheepish, but he didn’t quite look defiant either. Shota wondered if he was still out of it from the anesthetics. Sometimes those screwed with a person’s judgment. He certainly shouldn’t have been walking around yet, even if he had been downgraded from ICU.

All Might’s former sidekick merely stared at the doctor and said, “I’m here for my intern. His father hasn’t arrived yet.”

Shota grimaced. The last time Hisashi had been called about his son being in the hospital, the problem child had been more than half dead. Shota couldn’t imagine how worried the father must be.

The doctor shook his head and sighed. “Well, I suppose you should hear this too as his internship supervisor. But after that I am having you escorted back to your room.” After Nighteye nodded his agreement, the doctor continued, “We were able to successfully repair the blood vessels and musculature in his left arm. We’ll have to wait to see if there’s any persisting nerve damage, and the bone is another matter. That spike shattered the growth plate at the distal end of his humerus. We also had to remove several bone fragments from the joint space of his elbow. Some of the bone shards are already reconnected via reduction and healing quirk, but we had to use a few screws and a wire to reposition the pieces around the growth plate and joint.” He gestured to the large cast wrapping the problem child’s bent left arm from shoulder to wrist and the padded sling tightly binding it to his side. “That part’s going to have to heal naturally with frequent visits to a specialist who works with pediatric bone cases to make sure it heals correctly without impacting future growth.”

The doctor’s lip pulled to one side in distaste, but he didn’t say whatever he took issue with. Shota’d seen enough cases to guess. Kids who were still growing shouldn’t get injuries like this. There had been multiple motions to raise the age limit of hero schools or move them to university level altogether to avoid situations like this, among others. None of the attempts had passed. While Shota agreed that it would likely be healthier for everyone involved, he didn’t see the motion ever passing with the way things were. He hated seeing kids—his or otherwise—get hurt, but he couldn’t do much personally to change public opinion or government policy. He could, however, make sure no one graduated from his class who was going to die in their first year on the job.

The doctor flipped to the second page on his clipboard and forged ahead. “He’s on a cocktail of antibiotics right now to fight the infection that had set into his arm as well as pain medication. He is running a fever, but we’re monitoring it closely and will give him reducers as needed. The most concerning thing about Young Midoriya at present is his brain. He was hit with a ‘quirk erasing bullet’ I believe the report called it?”

“Yes, he dropped as soon as he was hit. Curled in on himself and clutched his head for a few seconds before losing consciousness entirely,” Nighteye answered. Shota was moderately surprised at the worried furrow of the man’s eyebrows. The way Midoriya described him, Shota hadn’t expected this level of care. “How bad is it?”

The doctor sighed. “Bad. He’s got a nasty case of encephalitis at the moment, and he isn’t likely to wake up until we significantly reduce the inflammation in his brain. The one thing in his favor at the moment is the lack of seizures, though it’s possible that what you saw at the scene was a type of one.” The doctor pursed his lips. “I’ll be honest, I’m not certain what sort of damage we’re looking at long term. Recovery Girl said she’d bring his last set of brain scans when she arrives later today. We’ll be able to get a better picture of what exactly was affected when we can compare. Until then, he’ll be on IV fluids, supplemental oxygen, anticonvulsants, and steroids. The rest of his nervous system was affected as well, though peripheral nerves recover much better than the brain and spinal cord. We have a neurologist whose quirk works wonders with nerve damage flying in from Fukuoka tomorrow. Between her and Recovery Girl, we should have an accurate prognosis then.”

Shota ran a hand through his hair and turned away from the doctor to really look at Midoriya. The kid was pale and looked smaller than usual between the huge cast, the nasal cannula, and the series of metal discs attached to his forehead and scalp to monitor his brain activity. The nasogastric tube they’d already taped to the side of the kid’s face and fed into one nostril told Shota they didn’t expect him to wake up for several days and expected to need to keep feeding his body nutrients to give him the energy for further healing sessions.

After both heroes were sufficiently assured Midoriya wasn’t about to drop dead the second they turned their backs, Shota volunteered to see Nighteye back to his room. It was conveniently next to Rock Lock’s. So, he was heading there anyway. The pair walked in silence most of the way. As they neared his hallway, Nighteye huffed a laugh. “I was wrong about Midoriya. That boy is something special.”

Shota hummed in mixed agreement and encouragement to continue.

“I should have known when he worked around my quirk the first time. But…I never thought he’d…” Nighteye stopped, prompting Shota to stop as well and meet his eyes. “He changed the future I saw, Eraserhead. That’s never happened before, and he did it twice. Maybe three times. I’m pretty sure he was supposed to die down there.”

Shota sucked in a breath. “Explain.” The word was more order than suggestion, but Nighteye didn’t seem to mind.

“I saw myself die at Chisaki’s hand—well spike—right before Lemillion got shot with that quirk erasing bullet. Then Chisaki, covered in blood, walked away with Eri in hand. And you know Deku wouldn’t have let him do that if he still drew breath. Deku…he pushed me out of the way of the spike that was supposed to kill me. Then I tried to tell him about Mirio, and he just…wouldn’t accept it. He took the bullet himself, knowing what it would mean. Why would—who does that?”

“A hero.”

Nighteye stared at him, looking more lost than Shota had seen a pro hero since All Might after the forest camp attack. “I suppose you’re right. He saved us all while I stood there useless. I just don’t understand how. How did he change everything? My Foresight was infallible. Right up until he entered the picture. I’ve tried to change things so many times and failed every one, but now…” Nighteye shook his head and looked down at his hands. “I’m not sure I know anything anymore.”

Shota sighed and let his shoulders sink. “Problem child has a way of doing that to people. Shaking up what they think they know. You should have seen All Might after he had some sort of heart to heart with him in the infirmary after their first heroics class. The guy looked like he’d had an existential crisis and regretted all of his life choices.”

Nighteye actually flinched at that. Shota narrowed his eyes and filed that response away for later.

“He shakes things up everywhere he goes. Hosu and the Hero Killer, that stupid rescue attempt at Kamino, the fact he called All for One and Shigaraki his friends—and the fact it was mutual. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the kid had some sort of quirk to generate chaos, but I suppose he’s just that stubbornly persistent when he sets his mind on something.”

Nighteye gave a small laugh. “That he is. I only hope it is enough.”

“Me too.”

After leaving Nighteye to the pair of disgruntled nurses waiting at the man’s room, Shota proceeded to check in with everyone else. Rock Lock was being reasonable and sleeping off his surgery, as was Ryukyu with her concussion. Fatgum was eating one of everything from the vending machine while keeping an eye on the heavily bandaged and out cold Kirishima. He should be fine after another round of healing quirk treatment and some bed rest. He passed Amajiki and Hado on their way to the cafeteria with Uraraka and Asui. The worst any of them had were Amajiki’s bruised ribs and some mild quirk exhaustion. Shinso had a sprained ankle that would normally have been healed in one session with a healing quirk, but his insomnia limited what the medical staff could do.

The kid was arguing with the doctor that he didn’t need sleeping pills when Shota knocked on his room’s door. Shota waved off the doctor with a quiet “I’ll talk to him.” Once they were alone, Shota walked over to sit next to Shinso’s bed. His intern seemed more…twitchy than usual. Leftover nerves from the raid? Was the kid worried about nightmares if he did sleep? “What’s on your mind, Shinso? You look worse than Midoriya after seeing a spider.”

Shinso chuckled nervously before clearing his throat. “uh…Sensei? What should you do if you accidentally learn something potentially serious about someone else’s mental health? Or that they might be possessed? I’d give it equal odds at this point…”

“Shinso,” Shota interrupted. “You’re not making any sense, kid. What are you talking about?”

Shinso glanced at the door before meeting his mentor’s eyes. “Um…you know how normally people can’t break out of Brainwashing? Even with Izuku, there’s a bit of fighting involved.” When Shota nodded, Shinso continued, “Well, when Overhaul fused with Katsukame, he was able to snap out of my control immediately after I established it. Like someone else bumped him out of it, but no one did…physically.”

Shota connected the dots. “You think Katsukame’s consciousness was in there too.”

Shinso nodded. “Totally not going to have nightmares about that or what would have happened if he had gotten his hands on Ryukyu or Suneater when he went for them. But anyway, someone else snapped out of Brainwashing the exact same way during the raid.”

Shota sat up straighter in his seat. “Who?”

“Togata.”

Shota let the possible implications sink in for a minute. Something had seemed off about Togata the last few months…or maybe closer to a year. Shota’s gut feeling oddly coincided with when Togata’s quirk first started mutating. Shota knew to trust his gut, but he’d had no real reason to act until now. Finally, he gave a cautious response, “Don’t tell anyone else about this. I’ll look into it. You, focus on recovering.”

Shota was out of the room almost before Shinso finished saying “yes, sensei.”

A quick march through the halls brought him to Togata’s room, but he paused before knocking. There was a familiar voice coming from inside. All Might. Shota lowered his hand and silently cracked the door open to listen. Shota had always thought there was more going on between those two (and Midoriya and possibly Nezu) than they let on, but he had no idea how right he was.

Shota had learned the importance of intelligence, both of the mental and the information variety, over his years in underground heroics. Information was life-saving in the field, but it could also be a two-edged sword. Or a pandora’s box. The longer he listened, the more Shota realized this secret was of the last type. This box was generations old, and the name on the lid read One for All.

Shota’s head spun as he slowly walked back toward Eri’s room. The new information was refusing to click, and the revelations just kept coming. His phone rang, and he paused to twist awkwardly to pull it from its pocket. The caller id read Tsukauchi. Shota accepted the call before the next ring. “Hello?”

“Eraserhead, you’re still at the hospital, right?” the detective asked frantically.

“Yes?”

“Oh, thank goodness. Stay there and keep an eye out. More pros should be there in twenty, but—”

“Tsukauchi, what’s going on?” Shota interrupted, bristling. What danger were they in now?

“The League ambushed Chisaki’s transport, and we haven’t found him yet.”

---

Tomura watched the police motorcade rapidly approaching on the highway through his binoculars. Just a little closer. And…now. “Kurogiri.”

A low hum was all the answer he got as the mist man focused on the task at hand, mainly avenging Izuku and Magne. The police could have what was left of Overhaul when the League was done with him. Even the usually even-tempered Kurogiri had temporarily abandoned his mission to assist with this retribution, claiming Sensei would understand the delay.

Kurogiri waited a few more moments before opening a portal behind the lead police car and in front of the villain containment ambulance. Brakes screamed, and the ambulance started to turn. But it was too little too late. The vehicle vanished, and the warp gate snapped shut a split second later, leaving a sand-wielding hero and the police officers pouring from the other cars with no one to fight or rescue.

Another gate opened beside Tomura and Kurogiri, and they both strode through just in time to see the van finish its second-story fall out of midair. They were in a rundown and largely abandoned neighborhood on the outskirts of Tokyo, and no residents in their right mind would investigate the noise. The League should have plenty of time before they needed to worry about any heroes following the ambulance’s tracker here, and if one did show up early, they could always move to a second location clear on the other side of Tokyo.

Tomura strolled leisurely toward the crippled ambulance. The whole thing listed to one side, wheels buckled and radiator steaming. He watched Dabi and Compress drag the unconscious driver from the front seat and a safe distance from the puddle growing from under the front of the vehicle. Must have ruptured a fuel line. He dismissed the trio with a wave and a casual order. “Don’t forget to get Toga that blood sample and his ID.”

Then Tomura stood before the ambulance’s back doors. He gingerly laid all five fingers on the latch, disintegrating the handle and the locking mechanism in the door. He listened for a moment before throwing the doors open, sidestepping a taser fired at his chest. The EMT in the back with Chisaki was inexperienced and obviously terrified, but to be trusted alone with Overhaul, he had to have an interesting quirk or skillset. He might have even put up a decent fight if not for the bloody gash on his temple and likely concussion. Tomura decided to be nice and put him out of his misery.

A quick feint and grab had Tomura dragging the unsteady man from the ambulance. They stared at each other for a moment in mutual shock. Tomura could feel Decay buzzing over his skin, but the EMT wasn’t disintegrating. Huh. That explained why he was in charge of guarding Overhaul. Too bad Tomura didn’t have a way to contact the Doctor. He’d have a field day with this NPC. Oh well.

Tomura remembered himself first and punched the man on his bloody temple, knocking him out. Tomura shook his hand out and stepped halfway into the ambulance to yank Chisaki’s gurney out. The yakuza didn’t flinch when he dropped the two-foot gap to the pavement. He didn’t seem completely there as he turned his head to look at Tomura. “Did you come to kill me?”

Damn, he didn’t even sound worried. Tomura wondered what meds they had him doped up on before shaking his head. “Nope, that would be letting you off easy.” Tomura carefully removed his father’s hand from his face and pulled down his mask to let Chisaki see his smile. “I want you to suffer.” Tomura sneered at the restrained villain. “I really hate you high and mighty types.”

“Me too,” Compress said, walking over to join them. At a nod from Tomura, Compress reached down to activate his quirk on Chisaki’s left arm—the same arm Magne had lost. “That’s for Big Sis.”

“And this is for my Player 2.” Tomura drummed his fingers along Chisaki’s right forearm a few times before letting all five alight there at once. “And besides, a guy spouting off about getting rid of quirks shouldn’t be reliant on one, right?” He grinned and carefully focused on limiting the disintegration. He didn’t want to kill Chiskai. Well, no, that was a lie. He really did, but he wanted to make him suffer the loss of his quirk more. Chisaki had done that to Izuku; now Chisaki would experience what it was like to be helpless and quirkless.

Tomura knew well the two terms were not interchangeable—Izuku had taught him that years ago—but the rest of society was so small-minded. That small-mindedness would be Chisaki’s own prison now. A prison with the door latched but unlocked, not that anyone would ever think to test the door. Everyone “knew” the quirkless couldn’t do anything. And that seemed a far more appropriate punishment than even the slowest disintegration death Tomura could inflict.

While the yakuza slowly went into shock, Tomura opened the evidence box attached to the stretcher. A gun and two padded, rectangular cases rested within—one red and one blue. Both contained five slots for bullets, though the red case was missing one. They’d finished the quirk erasing bullets, but what was the other case for? No matter, the contents were his now. Once he tracked down the Doctor, he’d get answers. “All that hard work you put in…it’s mine now,” he taunted, snapping the lid of the red case shut. “And you’ll only get to watch what happens next from your prison cell.”

Speaking of, the man was losing a lot of blood, and he couldn’t even hear any police sirens yet. “And don’t go thinking about dying on me. Don’t you want to see what I do with your life’s work? Dabi!” Tomura called.

The nonplussed arsonist walked around the side of the ambulance to join them. “Yeah, boss?”

Tomura swept a hand toward the immobile villain. “Would you do the honors?”

They’d discussed this prior to leaving the base, and Dabi had reluctantly agreed to not cremate the man. The fact he knew just how badly burns could hurt seemed to placate him. “My pleasure.” Blue fire lit his palms as he approached Chisaki. He took longer than strictly necessary to cauterize the remains of Chisaki’s arms, but no one present cared enough to blame him.

Finally, a single siren echoed through the empty streets. That was their cue to leave. Tomura shoved the stretcher with one foot to roll it further away from the ambulance. After debating a moment, he grabbed the unconscious NPC and turned to Dabi. “Light her up.” He started walking away, dragging the dead weight with him. Once satisfied that the EMT with the interesting quirk was far enough away to live, Tomura dropped him. (Was it negation of all quirk effects on him or just contact quirks? Did it only protect from immediately harmful effects? Damn it, he was starting to sound like Sensei and Izuku.) Sensei might find a use for that one when he got out of Tartarus.

A fwoosh of fire catching on accelerant—definitely a fuel leak—preceded a blast of heat at Tomura’s back. Dabi and Compress walked beside him by the time he reached Kurogiri. The mist man seemed satisfied with the proceedings and nodded in approval. He opened a warp gate before them.

Tomura let the other two walk through first. “You’re leaving again?” he asked Kurogiri.

“Yes. I have a few leads on the ‘follower’ Sensei wanted me to track down. It shouldn’t be long now before I can lead you to him.”

Tomura nodded. “You’d better. I don’t like waiting.” It wasn’t like he had missed the mist man or anything.

Kurogiri’s eyes narrowed in a knowing smile. “Take care, Shigaraki Tomura.”

Tomura grumbled a quiet goodbye and walked through the warp gate. Chisaki was neutralized, but Tomura’s power base was still weak. They’d need to move again too. Izuku had a good point about him giving away their location. His stomach growled. And they’d need more money very soon.

He walked down the hallway of their safehouse into the loading bay turned living room. Toga and Twice had gotten back while they were out; the whole League was present now. They were gathered around Compress, who was waving a small stack of bills in the air. Must have emptied the driver’s wallet when they took his ID. Smart.

“Hey, Handyman!” Toga said, bouncing over to hug him. She released him quickly and bounced back out of arm’s reach, but the almost lack of fear improved his mood. “Compress is going to pick us up some takeout! What do you want?”

Tomura smiled. It was funny how quickly an old warehouse could feel like home.

Chapter Text

Hisashi was really starting to get tired of getting calls about his son being admitted to the hospital. Why couldn’t the calls from his son’s teachers be for normal things like pulling a prank or getting caught kissing someone in the supply closet? That’s what high school was supposed to be. Hisashi knew what Izuku wanting to be a hero meant, what a hero school was preparing him for, but he wasn’t supposed to be in life-threatening situations until he was trained! How many times had Izuku almost died since the start of the school year? Too many. He stopped himself from counting and focused back on the slow rise and fall of his son’s chest.

It had already been two days since Izuku was hurt, and he hadn’t woken up yet. Hisashi didn’t want to admit how worried he was that Izuku wouldn’t wake up or that he wouldn’t be the same when he did. Izuku’s quirk was—had been—a complicated one. Sensei had even taken precautions when giving it to him. He still remembered that conversation like it was yesterday.

“You’re sure nothing went wrong? He’s been asleep for 20 hours straight,” Hisashi ran a hand through his curls as he stood in the doorway, watching the Doctor check Izuku over.

Daruma hummed and put his stethoscope away. “I’m certain. I’ll give him a little something to help speed up the adjustment process, but Shigaraki is an excellent judge of quirk compatibility these days.”

“These days?”

“Well, yes. Even he was young once. I imagine there was quite a lot of trial and error in the early days. A person can’t handle every type of quirk any more than they could accept every blood or organ type as a donor.” Daruma trailed off as he removed a tourniquet and a capped syringe of translucent liquid from his bag. “Between compatibility checks and the quirks Shigaraki’s collected that aid the process, I haven’t seen a rejection in the decades I’ve worked with him.”

“What happened to people who weren’t good matches for their quirk?” Hisashi asked, uncertain whether he really wanted an answer.

“Brain damage or debilitating auto-immune reactions,” Daruma replied. He found the vein he’d been searching for on Izuku’s forearm and inserted the needle before removing the tourniquet. “Izuku’s adjusting remarkably well considering the mutation components of his new quirk. And with this, he should be awake by tomorrow.”

Hisashi shook himself out of the memory when he heard someone drop a clipboard in the hallway. He sat alert and watched the door for a handful of seconds before relaxing. He was in a hospital full of heroes and police. No one was going to jump him.

He stood and shook himself out, deciding that a circuit of the hospital’s halls was a decent way to work off some of his nerves. But even away from his son’s bedside, he couldn’t stop seeing his still face. If Izuku had slept for a day and a half straight when his quirk was given with safety measures in place, how bad was it going to be when it was ripped away by some experimental drug?

Hisashi got some of his answers the next day. Izuku stirred in his sleep for the first time, and a few anxious hours later woke up. Hisashi almost regretted wishing for him to wake up sooner. Izuku was in a lot of pain and not very coherent. “Everything h-hurts…” his son muttered, clenching his eyes shut as soon as he opened them. The fingers on his right hand twitched as if he wanted to cover his eyes, but the effort to move wasn’t worth it. Thankfully, Izuku didn’t have to endure long before a nurse arrived to change his dose of pain medication. He drifted back to sleep once the morphine kicked in.

The second and third times weren’t much different, though he was awake longer each time. As good as it was to see Izuku improving, one thing made Hisashi worry more with each waking. Izuku didn’t remember any of the prior times he’d woken up. He’d already explained twice why Izuku’s arm was in a cast, and he wasn’t sure how he’d handle having to do it again.

The fourth time Izuku woke up, he seemed to recall bits and pieces. At least he didn’t seem confused about why he was in a hospital. And he stayed awake long enough to see Aizawa and another teacher when they made their rounds.

“Problem child,” the man greeted, shoulders relaxing almost imperceptibly.

“Little listener,” The blonde teacher said, grinning when he saw Izuku awake.

Izuku lifted his head from his pillow and gave his teachers a small wave with his good arm. “Hey Mic, ‘Zawa,” Izuku said, frowning when he flubbed the familiar name.

Aizawa didn’t give a visible reaction, but he did slide into the hospital room’s other chair. The blonde—Mic, maybe Present Mic?—took up a post beside Aizawa’s chair, leaning against the wall. Aizawa scrutinized Izuku for a minute before saying, “It’s good to see you awake.”

Izuku let his head sink back into his pillow. “Don’t feel a-awake. It’s all s-slow and off.” He frowned again, thinking. “S’like a d-de-synched v-video.” That was the most Izuku had said at once since he’d first woken up, and he looked drained when he finished.

“That’s probably the medications’ fault. They kinda threw the whole cabinet at you,” Present Mic said, throwing his arms apart.

Aizawa huffed softly, leaning away from the elbow that almost hit him in the face. His eyes flicked to the blonde briefly before returning to his student. “You’ll feel more grounded when you’re weaned off them. Get some rest and heal up, kid. Eri’s been asking about you, and there’s only so many times I can tolerate being roped into helping Yamada teach her how to braid hair.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Shota!” Yamada who was apparently Present Mic said. “You love having your hair played with.”

Aizawa growled something under his breath and glared at him.

Huh, Hisashi had thought that was a tangle in the teacher’s black mane, but tilting his head to the side, it did look like a messy approximation of a braid. He wondered if Yamada or the little girl had done that one.

Izuku seemed to have the same thought, though it took him a few seconds to process what his teacher had said. A wide, lopsided grin split his face. “H-how is she?”

“In some ways, better than expected. In others…” Aizawa shook his head. “At least she seems to trust me.”

Izuku nodded before wincing and closing his eyes. “She’s a s-smart kid.”

“That she is.”

A particular type of grin appeared on Izuku’s face, though he didn’t open his eyes. He yawned and said just above a whisper, “And y-you’re a total Dadzawa…” And Izuku was asleep again.

Aizawa stared at Izuku without blinking for a length of time that couldn’t be good for his dry eye. Yamada slapped a hand over his mouth and doubled over, trying to contain his laughter and not wake Izuku right back up. Aizawa groaned and dragged his hands down his face. “These kids…” he growled.

Hisashi laughed quietly. “Ah, the joys of parenting.”

That pushed Yamada the rest of the way over the edge, and Aizawa activated his quirk just in time to keep the ensuing laughter to a human volume. Once certain it was safe, Aizawa blinked and shot Hisashi a murderous glare. If the teacher weren’t so obviously spent, Hisashi would have been more concerned. As things stood, Hisashi only leaned away from the man slightly.

Hisashi’s worry spiked when Aizawa’s lips twitched up from their frown into a smirk. “You’re one to talk, Mixtape.”

Hisashi gaped at Aizawa in horror. How had that gotten out? He’d only told Kamui Woods abou—oh right, the wooden hero was dating one of the biggest gossips this side of Tokyo. On second thought, mentioning his son’s hero name suggestion to Mt. Lady’s boyfriend was not one of his better ideas.

Aizawa gave a terrifying grin that promised the ruin of any shred of reputation Hisashi had. The half-done braid and bright blue barrette Hisashi could now see tangled in Aizawa’s hair somewhat undermined the threat. But only slightly. Yamada laughing so hard his glasses fell off and landed in Aizawa’s hair wasn’t helping things either.

Hisashi had not gotten into half of the trouble in his life by being one to attempt to save face. (One learned rather quickly that those attempts were futile when one was quirkless.) And perhaps some small amount of Izuku’s recklessness was hereditary. So, Hisashi grinned right back at Aizawa and pointed at his hair. “Hey, uh, you’ve got something right…”

As they joked and taunted each other, Hisashi couldn’t help glancing at his son periodically. Would Izuku and his friends be like Yamada and Aizawa one day? Would they even live long enough to get the chance? This year’s events didn’t bode well, and Hisashi’s instincts weren’t reassuring him either. A memory of nine-year-old Izuku covered in bruises and burns came to mind. Maybe he couldn’t undo what had already happened, but he could certainly do something now.

---

Izuku listened to the doctor, wondering how much of this he’d actually remember later. The instant translation from short to long term memory Hyper-Processing had granted him was gone, along with everything else his quirk had entailed. He never thought he’d have to re-learn how to remember things.

His dad squeezed his hand, and Izuku blinked back to the present. He met Izuku’s eyes, then glanced at the other person in the room before looking back to Izuku. Right, the doctor was still talking. Izuku should pay attention.

“While the encephalitis has fully resolved, there are some effects that may linger for weeks, months, or more permanently. They’re manageable, and you likely won’t suffer from all of them, since your condition never progressed to the point of triggering seizures.”

Izuku distantly wondered if that was because his condition wasn’t all that bad or because having his quirk stripped messed up his nerves enough to mask any seizures that might have happened. By the time he’d properly arranged the words to ask, the doctor was already moving on. Izuku exhaled slowly, letting his question die on his tongue.

“We’ve already identified some memory issues, though that may be more from the drug you were exposed to during the raid than the following encephalitis. It’s likely that problem will fully resolve on its own, given the progress you’ve made over the last few days. Other symptoms to keep an eye out for are speech and concentration difficulties, trouble with your balance and coordination, migraines, and persistent tiredness. Mental health issues may also appear or worsen due to the changes in your brain’s chemistry during your illness. I’ll fill out the necessary referrals in case you need them. I’d highly recommend an initial evaluation with each if nothing else.”

Izuku zoned out again as the doctor moved on to reviewing proper cast care. He knew this part already. He’d had broken bones before. Between the bullies and aikido, it had been impossible to avoid a few while growing up. This time was just…worse than usual.

He tuned back in when the doctor took his leave. His dad was watching him closely again. Izuku gave him a tired grin. “I-I’m okay.”

“I know. I just…” His dad shook his head. “I’m worried. It’s part of the job description for a parent.” He gave Izuku a reassuring, if tired, smile. He set aside a stack of papers Izuku suspected the doctor had handed over when he wasn’t paying attention and checked his phone. “Think you’ll be okay if I leave for a bit?”

Izuku considered. He’d been moved from ICU to a normal room yesterday, and his IV catheter was removed this morning. He had the nurse call button where his right hand could reach it. He’d made it to and from the restroom on his own earlier without incident, though a nurse had warned him against getting up again without someone around. Something about being a fall risk. His coordination wasn’t that bad!

“Yeah. I-I don’t mind being a-alone for a bit,” he lied. “I’ll jus’ sleep.” That was the truth, at least. It seemed to be the only thing he had energy for since waking up. Thinking about it now, Izuku wondered if he should bring up his constant sleepiness to the doctor. He had been blaming the meds for it, but he was beginning to have doubts now that his IV catheter had been out for several hours.

Dad gently ran a hand through Izuku’s hair, careful not to disturb the wires and sensors attached to his scalp. The annoying things had been reconnected for one last set of readings before they discharged him tomorrow. “Oh, I don’t think you’ll be alone.”

Izuku frowned.

Dad grinned and winked before standing up to stretch. “It’s the weekend, and you’re out of ICU.” With that cryptic line, Izuku’s dad walked out of the room.

Izuku puzzled over that for…far longer than he should have. He let the confusion slip away when he started to give himself a headache. That was going to be a thing for a while too, it seemed. He closed his eyes and wished Hitoshi were here. Thinking too much made his head hurt, and thinking too much was all too easy when he was alone, and in the hospital, and in the hospital alone. Hitoshi was good, not-migraine-inducingly-loud company, and Brainwashing was a good counter when Izuku’s thoughts ran away with him.

And they wouldn’t stop running now. He wondered if Rock Lock was okay. Mirio, Sir Nighteye, Eri…had anyone else been hurt? Did anyone else get shot? There was something about the League no one was telling Izuku. He was pretty sure Toga and Twice had gotten away based on the abnormally high police presence in the hallway when they moved him. Another odd thing: no one knew how Izuku had gotten to the paramedics. Not that Izuku was complaining; it was just a bit of a head-scratcher. And then there was his current…state. Izuku was really trying not to think about himself right now. About how this was going to impact his future. Nope. Not thinking about it.

There was a soft knock at the door, and Izuku lurched out of his circling thoughts. “Come in,” Izuku said, pleased by the lack of stutter. (He ignored the fact it was only two words.) When Izuku blinked his eyes open once more, he thought he actually had fallen asleep and started dreaming. Hitoshi was standing in the doorway, and there were more familiar faces behind him. “Guys…”

Hitoshi lingered in the doorway for a moment before he was shoved bodily into the room by Mei. The inventor had no qualms rushing right up to his bedside. She did, however, catalog Izuku’s injuries with sharp eyes before hugging him gently. Then she punched his good shoulder and yelled. “Izuku! Stop almost getting yourself killed! My babies won’t test themselves, and you have good ideas and and…” She took a deep breath before continuing with a little less volume, “The readings when you got hit, they were BAD, Izuku, and then they were gone completely for a while. Don’t you ever scare me like that again, or so help me…” she threatened, holding a stern finger in front of his face.

“Y-yes, Mei,” Izuku said, eyes wide.

Mei nodded, satisfied. Then she produced a tablet from the bag over her shoulder and moved to one side to fuss with the EEG and clipboard next to Izuku’s bed. Izuku was too afraid to ask what she was up to. He only hoped she didn’t blow anything up in the process.

“We were all worried about you.” Hitoshi said as he took Mei’s place. More of 1-A filed into the room after him.

“S-Shin…E-everyone…” Izuku could feel tears building in his eyes, and he wasn’t even sure why. All his friends from 1-A were here, well everyone except Tokoyami and Todoroki. Tokoyami was probably busy interning with Hawks, and Todoroki and Katsuki had their remedial classes today.

Katsuki wasn’t likely to visit even if he had his license. They weren’t friends. Izuku well knew the blonde’s opinion of Izuku’s quirkless self, and Izuku was quirkless now (again?). That…that was a hard pill to swallow. And he refused to process it right now. Especially with his friends present. He forced a shaky smile on his face to hide the fear and pain.

Uraraka returned it with a much more genuine one. “We heard you’ll be released tomorrow, but none of us wanted to wait.”

Several people started to talk at once. The only voice Izuku could really pick out was the ever-loud Iida. “Indeed! We wished to confirm your condition for ourselves and let you know you haven’t been forgotten.” Mei cleared her throat and tapped the EEG—which was showing increased activity that seemed to pulse in time with Izuku’s headache. The others quieted, and Iida winced and dropped his volume before continuing, “However, if this many people proves too stimulating, please let us know, and we’ll give you space.”

“No w-worries. It’s just a heada-ache,” Izuku assured. “I really am happy to s-see you all.”

Hitoshi crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow. “Just a headache, my ass. Your brain nearly melted out your ears.” Hitoshi turned to give the rest of their class a scathing look on par with any of Aizawa’s. “I told you we should have done this in groups. Let’s let him rest.”

Izuku grimaced. He didn’t really want everyone to leave. He preferred the headache over the anxiety, honestly. Before he could think of how to say that, Iida caught Izuku’s eye and gave him a small grin. The class rep herded the students back toward the door. Even Mei willingly left, which made Izuku worry for the sanity of the hospital staff in the immediate future.

But when Hitoshi moved to leave Iida caught his arm. Iida whispered something to the insomniac before exiting and closing the door behind him, leaving Hitoshi alone with Izuku. Hitoshi rubbed the back of his neck and sat down in the chair next to the bed instead of following the class. He pulled his phone from his pocket and met Izuku’s gaze. “Want some music, or will that make it worse?”

“Hm. Probably not right now. Could y-you turn the lights down though?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks, Shin.” Izuku closed his eyes in the soft light and tried to relax. It turned out Hitoshi didn’t need Brainwashing to get his friend’s spiraling thoughts and worries to still. Izuku was asleep in minutes.

Izuku’s headache had faded by the time he woke up, and Hitoshi was long gone. Dad was back though. “Hey.”

His dad looked up from his phone and grinned. “Afternoon, sleepyhead. Feeling better? Shinso told me you had a headache earlier.”

“Mhm. Got to thinking t-too hard. Sleep helped.”

“Good. If you’re feeling up to it, I wanted to talk to you.”

Izuku frowned. What was that tone? Did one of the doctors deliver bad news while he was asleep? “Sure?”

Dad pursed his lips and set his phone down on the table next to the bed, drawing Izuku’s attention briefly to the colorful assortment of cards that hadn’t been there when he fell asleep. Dad’s eyes glanced over the cards to shift around the room. When his eyes fell to the floor, his expression softened marginally. He picked up a plastic shopping bag and set it on his lap. Izuku couldn’t help smiling too when he saw what was inside. A mega-pack of permanent markers in different colors and a set of notebooks and pens. “Thought you might want to brighten up that cast, since you’ll be stuck with it for a while.”

“Thanks.” The notebooks were a welcome sight too. Next time he got bored or anxious, he could write. He hadn’t actually tried writing since waking up. He flexed the fingers of his right hand apprehensively. He’d mostly been writing lefthanded since that first heroics class, but it wasn’t really an option anymore. Hopefully, his scarred right hand could keep up with his brain. Some cynical part of himself thought that shouldn’t be too hard now.

Izuku looked back to his dad, who wasn’t meeting his eyes. “What did y-you really want to t-talk about?”

Dad sighed and set the bag on the table. The look he gave Izuku made him stiffen, reminding him of one of Dad’s bad days after mom passed. Too much sadness and not enough hope. “Izuku, I—god there’s no good way to say this. I want to transfer you out of UA.”

“W-what?! Dad, no!”

“Izuku, listen,” Dad pleaded. “I know you want to be a hero, and I’m not asking you to give up on it forever. But…this?” Dad waved a hand at Izuku. “Some of this is permanent, kiddo.” Dad laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You’re not supposed to have more medical problems than your old man, let alone at 16. You can’t keep going like this, son. Something needs to change. I’m sorry.”

No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. He…he’d made it into UA. He’d gotten his provisional license. He was going to be a hero. But how…why? Did Dad not believe in him anymore?

I’m sorry Izuku.

Did he ever believe? After all, it was his dad that arranged for Sensei to give him a quirk. And now that that quirk was gone suddenly his dad wanted to pull him out. Was Izuku not enough on his own?

Words refused to come for a good minute while Izuku fought against tears. “Dad, this isn’t the s-school’s fault! I-I’m going to be a h-hero. I-I know I-I’m not v-very good at it yet. But that’s w-what UA’s—”

“Izuku.”

Izuku clammed up. That was Dad’s no-nonsense voice. He usually heard it when Dad had to pick him up from school after a bullying incident, but it was always used on the school staff, not him.

Dad took a breath to say something else, but his phone started vibrating on the table. Dad deflated when he looked at the caller ID. “I have to take this. We’ll figure things out when you’re feeling better. Hello?” he answered the phone. “What do you mean the incident report’s missing? I filed it three days ago.” Irritation crept into Dad’s voice as he moved toward the door.

Izuku watched him go, tears still slipping from his eyes. This couldn’t be the end. It was all he’d ever wanted, to help people. But how was he going to get his dad to understand that? His dad who had given up on being a hero decades ago, who was asking him to now?

Izuku knew words were more difficult than they’d been before the raid, and it frustrated him to no end. He needed to think. If he planned out what he wanted to say first, maybe he wouldn’t stumble over his words so much? Yeah, that might work. Writing things down always helped him organize his thoughts.

Izuku sat up in bed and moved closer to the edge to reach for the bag of office supplies. Then he noticed his backpack leaning against a table leg. Someone must have brought it for him from the dorm. He hesitated a moment before reaching for his backpack instead. His current notebook was in there, and he thumbed through the pages, looking over the familiar faces within. He stopped on the last page with writing on it: Eri’s page. He lightly ran his fingers over the sketch.

Izuku looked toward the door. His dad was busy, and everyone else from the raid had been discharged while Izuku was still unconscious. It was just him and Eri at the hospital, and tomorrow, he was leaving too. Izuku swallowed and wiped away the last of his tears. He’d find a way to convince his dad…but he had some time. This was more important.

Decided, Izuku slid his notebook back into his bag before snatching a new notebook and the pens and markers. Then he unplugged his phone from the charger beside the table and stuffed everything in his bag. He grimaced as he struggled with the zipper for a moment. Doing that one-handed was harder than it looked.

He slid off his bed onto unsteady feet. He slung his backpack over his right shoulder and took a few test steps alongside his bed in case he needed to catch himself. That accomplished without incident, he more confidently paced to the door. Peeking his head into the hallway revealed his dad had walked to the vending machine at the end of the left hall. Izuku took the right.

Finding the quarantine rooms was a little harder than he expected. Until he looked for the increased police presence. His and Eri’s rooms had extra guards loitering in the halls and adjacent waiting areas. The guard closest to Eri’s room was too distracted flirting with an EMT to notice him slip past. Wow. Aizawa was going to chew that guy out next time he visited, and the guy would be getting no sympathy from Izuku.

He snuck into Eri’s room and closed the door as quietly as possible behind him. “Eri?” he whispered. “Are y-you awake?”

“Deku?”

Izuku beamed. A wide-eyed Eri was staring at him from a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor. “Hi.”

The little girl was up and tackling his legs a moment later. “Deku…”

Izuku sank to his knees and pulled Eri into a tight, one-armed hug. “Eri, I’m glad y-you’re okay.”

“But you’re not.” Eri’s feather-light touch landed on his cast.

“Y-yeah, but I will be. I-I heard you were very brave while I was sleeping,” he said, hoping to redirect her from her misplaced guilt.

Eri shook her head and buried it in his chest. “I was scared…”

Izuku hugged her a little tighter. “You can be s-scared and brave at once. I do it a-all the time.”

That earned him eye contact. “You get scared?”

Izuku nodded. “Lots. During the raid, I was s-scared we wouldn’t get to you in time. I was s-scared my friends might get hurt, or t-the bad guys might get away. But I moved a-anyway. That’s what courage is, moving even when it’s s-scary and you’re not sure what to do.”

Eri didn’t say anything in response to that, but she did move her arms to wrap around his neck. Izuku hoped she’d understand sooner than later. She was far braver than he was at her age. She asked for help where Izuku had curled in on himself waiting for the next punch or explosion. But that was enough serious talk for now. He scooped her up with his right arm and stood, carrying her over to the bed.

He set her on the mattress and pulled back slightly. Once she released him from the beginnings of a really good death grip, Izuku unslung his backpack and set it on the bed next to her. “Want to h-help me decorate my cast?” he asked, pulling out the pack of markers.

Eri’s eyes opened impossibly wider. “You want me to color on it? Is that allowed?”

Izuku tore into the packaging with his one hand and his teeth. He spat out the piece of cardboard that pulled away and smiled. “Yep. This is a s-special type of bandage that’s really h-hard to protect my arm while it heals. S-see?” He set the markers down to gently rap his knuckles against the cast. Eri poked the cast too before looking through the markers. She held up a green that almost matched Izuku’s hair. “What should I draw?”

Izuku sat on the bed next to her and took his sling off. “Anything y-you want.”

A half hour later doodles of flowers, unicorns, Deku and Lemillion in costume standing with Eri, and what might have been a cat with laser eyes or Aizawa on a bad day covered the lower half of his cast. Not all of the marker had stayed on the cast, of course. No, once Izuku showed her a few cat videos on his phone, she’d been adamant that he give her “kitty whiskers.” Izuku had obliged, and she’d done the same for him. Then she started doodling on his good hand, and who was he to complain?

Now Eri was curled into his right side, looking at pictures on Izuku’s phone while he told her about each one. “Oh, that was right a-after I moved into the dorms at school,” Izuku said when she scrolled to one of the night sky. “I-I moved in early, and none of my friends were there y-yet. So, I spent a lot of t-time getting into and onto things. I like s-stargazing, and there’s this one rooftop on campus w-without any big trees around it. That’s the view from there. The moon was new that night. So, you can see the stars better than usual.”

“There’s so many…”

“Mhm. I’ll have to sh-show you sometime.” The next picture was Izuku, Yagi, and Mirio. “There’s Lemillion without his costume, and t-this is Mr. Yagi. He’s Lemillion’s mentor. He’s a retired hero.”

“Mentor?”

“Like a t-teacher, but more…physical training than lectures and books.” Eri nodded, though Izuku wondered if she really understood. Did she ever go to school before Overhaul got her?

“Is he your mentor too?”

Izuku looked back at the picture for a long time. He wasn’t sure how to answer. Finally, he settled on “he’s one of my teachers” even though that didn’t feel quite right either.

At some point, Eri fell asleep on him, and Izuku happily resigned himself to being trapped there as her combination pillow and teddy bear. He started to dose too when he heard the door click open. He yawned and blinked a few times to clear his vision. Then the warm fuzzy feeling wrapped around his heart vanished.

Izuku’s dad stood in the doorway. His expression was…different than it was before he took his call. Softer. He didn’t say anything as he walked over, eyes flicking between Izuku and Eri. After a tense silence he asked quietly, “This the little girl from the raid?”

Izuku shifted his arm so her horn wasn’t digging into his bicep. “Y-yeah. This is Eri.” They were silent again for a time. Eri looked peaceful when she slept. All that fear and apprehension were absent from her face. Her arms were still bandaged, but these were fresher and cleaner than what she’d had either time Izuku’d seen her with Overhaul.

His dad’s eyes lingered on the bandages. “Aizawa told me a little of what happened. What they were doing to her. He said she barely lets anyone touch her.” That made sense to Izuku. When everyone who reached for you only did so to hurt…it took a while to trust anyone again. “And here she is treating you like a security blanket.”

Izuku blushed when he realized his dad was getting a picture with his phone. “Daddddd,” he whined as softly as he could.

Dad chuckled and put his phone away. “I need some blackmail for when you’re big and famous.”

Izuku furrowed his eyebrows and frowned at his dad.

Dad sighed and gave Izuku one of his soft, sad smiles. “Izuku, you’re not going to be a hero.”

Izuku stiffened. He hadn’t had time to formulate his argument yet. Were they really doing this now?

“You already are one. I’m sorry I didn’t understand that earlier.”

Izuku blinked several times. “Wait, y-you mean…”

“Yeah, kiddo. You can stay at UA, for now. But I mean it when I say things need to change. You can’t get hurt like this again. I don’t think I could live with myself if you did.”

“O-okay.”

Dad leaned in to give Izuku an awkward hug around Eri. “You’re this little girl’s hero, Izuku. Kota’s too if I recall right. And Katsuki’s, even if he’d rather die than admit it.”

Izuku snorted, trying his best to hold in the laugh that wanted out.

“You called for help when everyone was trapped at the USJ too and stood up to Sensei at Kamino. You’ve been a hero for a long time, I think. I just never noticed,” Dad said, voice wistful. “Maybe you always were one. But!” he quietly declared. “Most importantly, you’ll always be my hero.” He leaned over to land a quick kiss on Izuku’s forehead while he was defenseless.

Izuku gave his dad a wobbly smile. “Dad…”

“Now, you stay right there,” Dad said, snatching the blankets and pillows and a stuffed lion off the floor to arrange them around Izuku and Eri on the bed. “Disturbing a sleeping kid is a cardinal sin. The only thing worse is disturbing a sleeping cat, but it’s a close thing.” He helped Izuku put his sling back on before turning the lights down. “I’ll go let the nurses and doctors know where you are. We might have been searching the whole hospital for you. They’ll be happy to hear you didn’t do a runner or get kidnapped.”

Izuku blanched as his dad left the room. If they thought he’d been taken they would have called Aizawa…he was so dead.

Chapter Text

Izuku drifted in and out of sleep on the ride back to UA. Part of him wondered if he was being discharged too early with how quickly he started to fall asleep. The rest of him was just grateful Aizawa had volunteered to drive him and Eri back from Tokyo instead of making them ride the train. Izuku had a feeling that long a trip on foot was beyond his current capabilities. All things considered, he wasn’t about to complain about curling up in the back seat with Eri and a thick blanket his teacher had had the foresight to bring.

Aizawa didn’t seem to mind the lack of conversation, only breaking the silence and Izuku’s half-sleep when they stopped by a pharmacy to pick up Izuku’s medications. They were back to campus all too soon, and Izuku dragged himself out of the car and stretched. His breath hitched when a sharp spike of pain shot through his left arm. He groaned and rubbed at the cast over his elbow in futility. It was probably time for a dose of his pain meds.

That was a silver lining in all this grey. Pain meds actually worked on him again. “A-Aizawa-sensei?” When the underground hero hummed, Izuku asked, “Did the doctor s-say when I’m supposed to t-take my next dose of everything? Arm hurts.”

“I’ll check over your discharge papers and debrief Recovery Girl. In the meantime, why don’t you go drop off your things at Heights Alliance? Your classmates will want to greet you too. Once you’re done swing by the teacher’s dorm. We should have a schedule for your medications worked out by then.”

Izuku nodded and glanced down at Eri, who had claimed his right hand and refused to let it go since they’d climbed out of the car. Aizawa hadn’t specified where Eri was going in that timeframe. Izuku squeezed her hand lightly. “Eri? I-I’m going to my dorm for a bit. There will be a l-lot of people there, and t-they’ll be excited to see me. They don’t always understand personal s-space or being quiet. Do you w-want to go with ‘Zawa?” Izuku internally cringed at his slip.

Eri looked between Aizawa and Izuku, uncertain. Aizawa was the one to finally sway her. “Eri, have you ever met a cat before?” Eri’s eyes lit up as she shook her head. “Would you like to meet mine?”

Izuku couldn’t hold back his smile as Eri released his hand to snatch the one Aizawa offered her. “What’s its name?” she asked hesitantly.

“Espresso.”

Izuku watched them walk away for a minute before taking a deep breath to steel himself and continuing on his own way. The peace and quiet lasted until he opened the door to 1-A’s building. Several voices yelled “Izuku!” at once, and he was surrounded a moment later. Izuku tensed and closed his eyes, expecting someone to jostle his arm, but no one tackled him. Instead, someone relieved him of his backpack, and someone else grabbed his (relatively) good arm and dragged him toward the sofas. Several hands squeezed his right shoulder, thumped him on the back, or tousled his hair as he went.

Ah, it was Hitoshi who had his arm. Izuku let the last of the tension leave his shoulders as he sagged into the sofa beside his friend. Best friend? He was allowed to have more than one best friend, right? He’d contemplate that question when he had the spare brainpower.

He murmured a soft “thank you” when someone offered him a mug of hot chocolate and another when Uraraka set his backpack next to his feet. He smiled at his classmates and asked, “A-anything interesting happen w-while I was gone?”

The next 30 minutes passed in a rush of stories about study groups, heroics class exercises, Kaminari shorting things out, and a mishap involving Sato and Katsuki using the kitchen at the same time. All but Katsuki winced as the tale of the cayenne chocolate cake drew to its close—Izuku suspected Katsuki actually loved the result and just didn’t want to admit it.

As the conversation wound down, Izuku set his empty mug aside to unzip his bag and pull out a handful of markers. Mina beamed, catching on immediately, and soon everyone else was fighting over a chance to sign his cast. All were careful to avoid obscuring Eri’s drawings, and Izuku sat patiently as his friends worked on adding their own masterpieces.

He wasn’t terribly surprised when Katsuki took the distraction as opportunity to skulk off to his room. Izuku was more surprised that he’d stayed as long as he had. And without calling him Deku even once. Maybe Katsuki wasn’t feeling well.

Speaking of not feeling well, by the time Hitoshi finished his signature—the last one to sign excluding Katsuki—Izuku’s head was beginning to throb again. It wasn’t so much that his friends were too loud this time. They’d actually been very considerate with the noise level. He suspected it was more the sudden change from nothing but blank white walls to so much happening around him. Too much to process, and his brain was having trouble keeping up. There were too many people to track the body language of, too many moods to gauge, too many hushed conversations to follow. It made Izuku feel antsy, not being able to read the room as effectively as he remembered being able to.

Hitoshi poked his shoulder, and Izuku couldn’t quite suppress his flinch. He blinked and looked around. Half of his classmates were heading toward the kitchen now, and the ones left in the common room were strewn across the sofas pulling out homework. He’d spaced out again. “S-sorry, Shin.”

“Don’t mention it, Zuku,” Hitoshi said, waving a hand dismissively. He studied Izuku’s face for a few seconds with a slight frown. “Your head okay?”

Izuku gave a wry smile and held his right hand up to tilt it side to side where his friend could see. “Need to t-take my meds. S’posed to go to the t-teacher dorm to get them and talk to ‘Z—Aizawa.”

Hitoshi hummed and stood up, offering Izuku a hand. “Well, let’s get you over there then. Don’t worry about your bag. I’ll put it in your room when I get back.”

Izuku swayed slightly on his feet before gaining his balance. The cast and restricted movement still threw him off at times. They walked the path from the 1-A dorm to the teachers’ dorm mostly in silence. Something about the occasional brush of their elbows or shoulders was comforting enough. Words weren’t needed.

They paused at the front steps, and Hitoshi scuffed the toe of one shoe against the pavement. “You better rest up and heal fast, Zuku. It’s not been the same without you.”

Hitoshi said that as if Izuku returning to the hero course was a given. Izuku didn’t know he’d needed to hear that until Hitoshi said the words. Izuku gave him a watery grin and nodded, shoving his own doubts aside for later. “I’ll do my best. Keep everyone on their toes for me?”

A final wave and they parted ways. Izuku entered the teachers’ building to find Midnight curled up in a recliner with a book and cup of tea. Seeing his teachers in civilian clothes stopped being weird to Izuku by the time everyone else moved into the dorms, and he waved hello to the art teacher as he crossed the common area without giving her a second look. “Hi, Kayama-s-sensei. Do you know w-where Aizawa is?”

Midnight looked up from her book and smiled. “Hello, Midoriya. Good to see you back. Shota’s in his apartment. Fourth floor. Take a left off the elevator.”

“Thanks.”

As the elevator took him to the fourth floor, Izuku wondered how Eri was going to fit in here. There wasn’t a second bedroom in any of the teachers’ apartments as far as he knew. He’d heard enough from dinners here to know there was a small office included in each apartment, but where would Aizawa keep all his case files and class plans if his was converted? That would also leave Eri with a rather small bedroom, and part of him disliked the idea of giving her so little.

He got his answer when he stepped off the elevator. On the right, two doors lined each side of the hall, while on the left one side of the hallway sported a fresh coating of paint over a distinctly door-shaped patch of wall.

Izuku grinned as he walked up to the painted section, stopping when he noticed a small handprint in the still-drying paint. A name was traced in the paint underneath it. On impulse he crouched to place his right hand next to Eri’s handprint, leaving his own to compliment hers. He quickly wrote his name (hero or given depending on the reading) under it. He only slightly regretted his choice when he realized he’d have to wash his hands before his pain meds kicked in if he didn’t want the paint to dry on his skin. He grimaced before glancing back at the wall. Worth it.

Moving on to the remaining door on that side of the hall, Izuku rapped on the wood with his knuckles, careful not to get paint anywhere. Aizawa opened the door a minute later and gestured him inside. “Meds are on the counter. You’re due for one of each.” The teacher glanced down at his casted arm, eyes momentarily darting to his paint-covered right hand and narrowing before returning to his current problem limb. “How are you with opening bottles right now?”

Izuku glanced down at his hands. Fighting child-safety seals on a normal day was a pain, but with one arm broken and immobilized? Izuku didn’t like his odds. “I…might need a l-little help,” he admitted, looking anywhere but at Aizawa.

Aizawa nodded. “I’ll get your meds while you wash your hands. Get paint on anything, and you’ll have detention.”

Izuku didn’t snort, but it was a near thing. “S-sure thing, Za-Aizawa.” Izuku scowled at the floor as he walked toward the apartment’s kitchenette. Of all the things to happen with the quirk erasing bullet screwing up his brain, he hated that his ability to speak had taken a hit the most. The stuttering was a constant battle now rather than cropping up only when he was nervous, and if he wasn’t careful, he occasionally slurred words or dropped syllables. Izuku had always had plenty to say if anyone bothered listening, but this…this somehow felt worse than the years of being ignored. He hated it, and he was not going to cry over something so small. At least, not until he was alone.

Izuku angrily scrubbed at his hands, focusing on the pain in his left arm to keep his traitorous eyes in check. A hand on his shoulder broke him out of his head. Izuku blinked several times to clear the blurriness from his vision before daring to meet his teacher’s eyes.

Aizawa’s expression was as stoic as ever, but the lines around his eyes were softer than usual. “I don’t mind being called Zawa, problem child. Use it if it’s easier.” The underground hero then reached past Izuku to turn off the sink and dropped a small towel over his hands.

Izuku dried his hands and frowned at the reddened skin. How long had he been scrubbing? Unsure how to even get an answer, he set the hand towel next to the sink and followed Aizawa to the island where he had several pills laid out on a napkin beside a glass of water.

He blinked in confusion when Aizawa shoved a sandwich into his hands after he finished downing his meds. “Eat. You’ll have fewer side effects if you don’t take everything on an empty stomach.” Izuku took a bite and hummed appreciatively. Aizawa’s sandwich-making skills weren’t half bad (but his dad’s cooking was much better).

While Izuku ate, he and Aizawa moved to the apartment’s sofa and went over how to address the problem of opening his meds. He didn’t want to bother his teacher or a classmate every couple hours for the next month and a half. Eventually, they settled on prepping Ziploc bags with times written on each bag and programming alarms into Izuku’s phone. That also solved the problem of how to track what to take when. Some of the medications were once or twice a day while his pain medication was four times a day. That was a lot to keep track of.

Then they moved on to covering Izuku’s schedule. Apparently, he wasn’t allowed back in class until next week, and that was if Recovery Girl okayed it. Izuku started to protest, but he couldn’t really argue when Aizawa pointed out just how many doctor appointments he’d be busy with over the next few days. Physical therapist, speech therapist, neuropsychologist, and a pediatric orthopedist; Izuku had starting appointments with them all, on top of daily check-ups with Recovery Girl and a visit with Hound Dog. He felt exhausted just thinking about it. Could he go back into a coma for a day or two? He really just wanted to sleep.

A faint jingle and soft meow drew Izuku’s eyes downward. A chocolate point Himalayan stared back up at him. They blinked at each other. Izuku smiled and slowly extended his hand for the cat to sniff. “I-I didn’t know you had a cat, Zawa. W-what’s her name?” Izuku asked, glancing back up at his teacher.

Something pained passed over the hero’s face. Izuku tilted his head and frowned back. Aizawa sighed and said in a tone Izuku couldn’t quite place, “Her name’s Espresso.”

Izuku hummed and scratched behind the feline’s ears. The cat gave a silent purr that Izuku only knew existed through the vibration he felt under his fingers. She rubbed against his hand before hopping onto his lap and curling up, using his cast as a headrest.

“Ms. Espresso,” a small, familiar voice called from the hallway. “Where’d you go?”

Aizawa grinned and stood as he called back, “She’s in here, Eri. Midoriya’s here too.”

Eri was at Izuku’s side a few seconds later. Izuku smiled at her and briefly stopped petting Espresso to point at his cast. “Look, Eri. My f-friends saw how pretty your drawings w-were and wanted to decorate too.” He quickly returned his hand to stroking Espresso when said feline batted at him.

Eri’s eyes widened as she examined his cast and listened to him describe the person behind each doodle or signature as she pointed to them. While they were engrossed, Aizawa retreated to the kitchenette. Eri happily took the seat he’d vacated to better reach Izuku’s cast. After they ran out of names, she gently scratched Espresso’s head and told Izuku all about her new bedroom and playroom, promising to show him later.

Izuku smiled as she talked. Aizawa seemed to have already taught her the golden rule of cats: once one claimed your lap, you were trapped until they decided to move. Izuku sank into the sofa cushions a little more as Eri began describing a stuffed unicorn she seemed particularly fond of. In the background, he could hear Aizawa chopping something on a cutting board and something simmering. It was nearly as quiet as the hospital, but a much more comfortable, less anxious type of quiet than the distant murmur of nurses and constant beep of the heart monitor. He was safe here. Eri was safe.

Izuku didn’t realize how exhausted he was until he was out. His dreams were vivid and strange—probably something he could blame on the meds—but they eventually resolved into something all too familiar. Faces he hadn’t seen since moving back to Japan leered at him. His bullies had cornered him behind the gym again, and they had Dakila with them. Dakila was a foreign-born student like Izuku, but where Izuku was quirkless and “creepy” and generally ignored, Dakila was personable and popular. And he had a line-of-sight dizziness quirk. Izuku loved quirks, but he hated Dakila’s.

After spending the last several years with these classmates, they’d figured out Izuku wasn’t so helpless or easy to pick on…unless they recruited Dakila. It was really hard to fight back when you could barely stand or see straight.

Just like every other time, it started with insults and Dakila’s quirk and self-important sneer. He could still see that fine despite his spinning vision.

“Quirkless.”

“Useless.”

“Freak.”

Then the voices started shifting, warping. Katsuki’s voice joined them, Overhaul, Stain, his other classmates—those who hadn’t known him when he was quirkless the first time. They knew now. And no one ever stayed or stayed nice once they knew.

“Deku.”

“You thought you could be a hero?”

“Failure.”

“Waste of a quirk.”

“Even with a quirk you’re weak.”

“Who would want to be saved by you?”

“Why do you even try?”

He swung his head around, trying to see where the others were. The only ones here were Dakila and his crew. The movement unbalanced him, and he staggered. The second he did, the bullies grew bold enough to get physical. They yanked on his backpack, tripped him, destroyed the homework he’d been holding. After his father’s threats, they rarely punched or kicked anymore. Those left visible marks. Some of their quirks didn’t. Like Toby’s taser quirk. He’d long since figured out just how high he could take the voltage before it started leaving burns. He could see it charging up out of the corner of his eye—a blue spark between two fingers—and coming closer.

He violently flinched when someone shook him. His eyes flew open and he pressed himself back against the…wall? Why was the wall so soft? Or the ground for that matter? He was lying on his side on something soft, the light spoke of the indoors, and someone had draped a pink and purple blanket over him. A wriggling warmth scrabbled against the back of his neck before escaping to bound from the room. A cat? Espresso, he faintly remembered. He struggled for breath and blinked shakily up at the person crouched before him—Aizawa—and tried to calm himself.

Aizawa was talking, he realized, fighting to focus on the words past the blood rushing in his ears. “—kid. You’re at UA, in my apartment in the teachers’ dorm. It’s Saturday.” Noticing Izuku’s eyes on him at last, Aizawa grinned softly. “Good, that’s good, problem child. Focus on me. Try to match my breathing; you’re hyperventilating.”

Several minutes later, Izuku had his breathing under control and felt more present and just as tired as before he’d fallen asleep. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, murmuring something even he couldn’t make out as words.

Aizawa seemed to understand though. “Don’t worry about Eri. I sent her out as soon as you started twitching in your sleep.” Izuku sighed in relief, and Aizawa raised an eyebrow at his student. “Want to talk about it?”

Izuku started to shake his head; then he remembered that this teacher actually cared. “My s-school in America. Bullies cornered m-me. I-I hate dizziness quirks,” he groused. At least he hadn’t woken up wanting to puke this time.

“That happen a lot?” Aizawa asked, and Izuku realized he’d mumbled that last bit out loud.

Izuku shook his head. “Not in a-at least a year. Was worse w-when the memories w-were fresher.”

Aizawa hummed discontentedly, and Izuku had to remind himself Aizawa wasn’t mad at him.

Sensing his teacher was waiting for him to say more, Izuku pulled the blanket up around his shoulders and looked down at the carpet. “It w-was mostly verbal a-and whatever quirks w-wouldn’t leave a mark. Sometimes they’d s-steal or destroy things.” After a pause he added, “Other people joined in t-this time.”

“And everything seems that much worse now that you’re quirkless again.”

Izuku hunched his shoulders and didn’t answer.

Aizawa slowly reached a hand out, waited for Izuku to meet his eyes, then set it on Izuku’s shoulder. “Midoriya, I’ve said this once, and I’ll say it again. I see potential in you, your drive. Not your quirk. A quirk is a tool, and it’s not the quirk that makes the hero, Problem Child. It’s the heart, and you’ve got the biggest one I’ve seen in…a long time.”

There was something melancholy in Aizawa’s tone at the end, and Izuku sent him a questioning look. Aizawa shook his head and squeezed Izuku’s shoulder before releasing it. “Come and eat while everything’s warm. Then you can go back to sleep.”

Izuku gave a small, but genuine smile, definitely not on the verge of tears. “Okay, Zawa.”

Chapter Text

Sunday passed in stretches of sleep interrupted by meals and his alarms for medication. His classmates—friends; they’re his friends—checked on him occasionally and whenever he came down for meals. Yaoyaorozu was nice enough to make him a plastic sleeve for his left arm so he didn’t have to wrestle with a trash bag to protect his cast when he showered. Someone left a loofa on a stick outside his dorm room too. (It was really hard to reach all the spots on his back with one arm out of commission.)

Katsuki continued to avoid him. Izuku wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or worried. Kirishima noticed his unease and assured him Katsuki had been worried about him too, but Izuku didn’t think that was it. He didn’t let himself spend too much brain power on trying to figure Katsuki out regardless. If Izuku hadn’t managed to while he had Hyper-Processing, what hope did he have now?

Monday saw the rest of 1-A returning to class for the week and the beginning of Izuku’s draining series of doctor appointments. And he was still sleeping so much. Was this normal? Recovery Girl and Aizawa didn’t seem too concerned about him nodding off on every car ride and collapsing onto the nearest soft, flat surface upon his return. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d fallen asleep in 1-A’s common room only to wake to hushed voices and a mound of blankets and pillows around him.

Considering this, it was really not a surprise when Recovery Girl insisted he take a second week to rest. She did allow Iida to bring him his missed coursework though. That…was another struggle unto itself. He couldn’t seem to focus for more than a few minutes at a time, and information retention was spotty at best. In frustration, he started resorting to hand-copying the notes Iida brought him and making flashcards for the subjects he could. Rewriting things seemed to help his memory, even as it made his hand ache. He didn’t recall middle school being this hard, but he vehemently refused to entertain that line of thought and its what-ifs.

When the work got too frustrating or a headache started brewing, he left his books and notes to go on walks. One such trip he decided to kill two birds with one stone and turn in an Engineering assignment at the Development Studio. Who knew you could miss the sound of explosions and the smell of smoke and motor oil so much? But here he was, grinning like an idiot as he stood in the dented doorway of the lab.

Mei spotted him first. “Izuku! You’re back!” She didn’t quite tackle him, but her hug was definitely more aggressive than usual. At least she avoided his left side. “Come in; there’s so much I need to catch you up on.”

Izuku laughed. “Okay, Mei. Just let me turn in my assignment first.”

Mei snatched the packet of papers from his hand and tossed it on Maijima’s desk with impeccable aim. Then she resumed dragging Izuku toward her work station. There were even more half-finished projects scattered about than usual, and an abnormally dark scorch mark on the bench’s surface. What had she used to make that, rocket fuel?

Izuku let himself be manhandled onto a stool next to the table and watched Mei root through her pile of projects and…neuroscience journals? Should he be worried? “Aha!” she cried, pulling a small case out of one pile. She smiled and turned her focus back to her friend. “Now, be honest, Izuku; do you have a headache right now?”

Izuku blinked at her. “A-a little. Why?”

A familiar manic smile split Mei’s face. “Perfect!”

Izuku probably should have been worried, but he was mostly curious. “What?”

Mei set the case down on the bench and opened it to reveal an incomplete and misshapen metal band. Izuku tilted his head in confusion and just stopped himself from flinching when Mei suddenly reached for his face. “Uh, Mei?” he asked as she pulled his head lower. Then she slipped the band over the back of his head. The open ends laid flat against his temples, and the rest of the band traced his hairline and the base of his skull.

Ignoring any misgivings directed her way, Mei released his head and examined him. “Looks like a snug fit. Try moving your head around. Any pinching or rubbing?”

Izuku ran through the same range of motion tests he did anytime Mei worked on his helmet. “Everything seems fine, Mei, but…what is this?”

“This,” Mei said reaching to press a button on the side of the band behind his left ear. A small beep followed. “Is going to be your best friend for dealing with migraines.”

Izuku froze as an odd prickling sensation trailed along his skin under the band. After not feeling anything else—and nothing exploding—he relaxed and tuned back in to Mei’s explanation.

“—but whatever you do, don’t try to take the band off while it’s activated. Here, feel behind your left ear.” Mei took his hand and brought it to the band. There was a raised spot on the metal that he suspected might be a tiny indicator light by the increased heat there. A small button sat right next to it. “If that light is on or hot, the band is operational, and you’ll need to press the button and wait for the double beep before taking off the Mei-graine Remover. You probably shouldn’t wear it for any strenuous activities either. Getting hit with all those needles in your skin could be a hazard.”

“W-what?! Needles? Mei!”

“Oh please, acupuncture’s been widely accepted for centuries, Izukun. Maijima had Recovery Girl look over everything before okaying it. And it’s making your headache less severe if your increased alertness is anything to go by.”

And that alertness had absolutely nothing to do with the thought of an unknown number of acupuncture needles embedded in his skin and so close to his spine and brain. But…the pressure in his skull did seem to have decreased since he arrived when reasonably, the noise of the bandsaw and other equipment running in the Studio should have made things worse. Izuku’s protests died on his tongue, and he frowned at Mei, a bit lost for words.

Mei laughed. “Okay, okay. I’ll warn you next time I give you something invasive. Oh! That reminds me. The band has another setting. The toggle’s behind your right ear. That one’s for brainwave adjustment.”

Izuku was still processing what that sentence implied when Mei slid the tiny switch from one position to another. Nothing noticeable happened. No more needles in his skin or his brain melting out of his ears. “Mei…”

“Your sleep’s been terrible since you got back, right? Migraines can apparently mess up your delta waves which in turn influence your sleep quality, especially deep sleep, which you need to heal. This baby should reset that…hopefully. I’ve only had Shinso to test it on—oh, and Maijima used it that one time—but their migraines are different from yours.”

“Mei?”

“Yes?”

Izuku wasn’t sure quite what to say, but he had to say something. He couldn’t imagine how much time Mei had spent on this over the last two weeks. She’d been so focused on the upcoming robot rumble and the Culture Festival’s support gear showcase, and she’d taken the time to work this out for him. “Have I-I told you lately w-what a mad genius you are? I-I can’t…’anks,” Izuku finally settled on.

Mei beamed. “Anything for you, partner! Besides, who’s going to help me test all my babies if you feel awful half the time?”

Izuku grinned and fingered the band against his skin. “You’d have to b-break in a new test dummy.”

Mei gasped in feigned dismay. “That would be absolutely awful. Luckily, I don’t have a test dummy to replace. I have a fellow inventor. Those are much better anyway. They come with intelligent conversation and good ideas.”

Izuku sputtered for a moment, blushing. Seeking to get the attention off himself, he pointed at something that looked like a harpoon-launcher in Mei’s project pile of mayhem. “Hey, w-what’s that?” As far as transitions went, Izuku was aware it sucked, but Mei let it slide. She was more than eager to gush about her latest pride and joy. The willing audience made it even harder for her to resist. When he pointed out a few places that could be streamlined or improved, Mei’s enthusiasm only grew.

It was the most normal Izuku had felt since he was shot. Mei didn’t treat him like glass or tiptoe around him. Not that he didn’t appreciate the consideration his classmates had been giving him, but it was nice just being Izuku again. Not Izuku, the kid with a broken arm. Not Izuku, the kid who’s now quirkless. Not Izuku, the kid who went through something traumatic and might break if someone looks at him wrong. Not even Izuku, the kid who’s friends with villains (and is he really trustworthy?). He’d almost gotten used to the last one.

Of course, the normalcy couldn’t last. Not that he blamed Mei. He should have been told long before he talked to her. “—and this little baby hooks up to a vehicle’s onboard computer to send out a high priority distress signal if the computer throws any system flags. You know, engine failure or damage, things like that.”

“Huh, w-what made you think of that one?”

“Shigaraki attacking Overhaul’s transport. It took the heroes a solid 20 minutes to track the van’s GPS…what?” Mei stared at Izuku as he rapidly paled.

“Tomura w-went after Overhaul?”

“Uh, yeah? It was all over the news that day before it got buried by the official press release on the raid. Did no one tell you?”

“No.” Izuku pulled out his phone and ran a quick search. Sure enough, there was an article on the League’s hit on the transport. They left Chisaki alive, but only just.

Mei frowned at him. “Well, if they didn’t tell you that, I’ll bet they didn’t tell you how you wound up reaching paramedics either. Am I right?”

“T-they said no one w-was sure…”

Mei hmphed and shook her head. “Well, if they’d listened to me, they would.” When Izuku shot her a questioning look, she continued, “The feed from your helmet disappeared at one point. That wouldn’t happen even if your helmet were taken off or destroyed. I made sure of that. At most, it would throw a ton of error readings. But there was none of that. It just…stopped. Then it started up again a few minutes later. What does that sound like to you?”

Izuku thought for a moment before his eyes widened. “Compress.”

Mei nodded.

Izuku looked at Mei, wondering what this looked like, if anyone else had put the pieces together. “Do you—”

“I’m not going to judge your acquaintances, friends, allies, or whatever-they-ares, Izuku, not when they bring you back alive,” Mei said without looking up from the half-disassembled sonic cannon she was holding.

Izukun gave her a grateful smile before falling silent, staring at his phone. He tensed as he realized he was an idiot. Tomura. He’d forgotten to call Tomura! His best friend probably thought he was dead or still hospitalized. How had he forgotten Tomura?! “H-hey, Mei? I have to go. Sh-should I take this off?” He asked, gesturing at the band on his head.

Mei glanced up at him. “Nah, you can leave it on. Just be sure to wipe the inside of the band down with the solution in the case when you do take it off. Oh, and turn off the acupuncture before you go to sleep.”

“Thanks, a-again, Mei,” Izuku called as he sprinted from the lab. He needed to find somewhere he wouldn’t be disturbed or overheard. There was the chance that Nezu might intercept his call…but this wasn’t the type of thing a text would suffice for.

Izuku paused in the stairwell in a corner he knew was out of camera view. He pulled his phone from his pocket to shoot Tomura a text. “Will call in 5. On campus atm, so be careful what you say.”

Five minutes allowed Izuku to wander far enough into UA’s wooded grounds to be out of sight of the main building, though he carefully steered clear of the Restricted Zone. He settled himself on the ground, leaned back against a tree, and dialed Tomura’s number from memory, glad that he could still trust his knowledge from before.

Tomura picked up on the first ring. “Izuku?”

Izuku couldn’t hold back a smile. “Tomura.”

A shaky laugh sounded on the other end of the line. “You’re okay.”

Izuku made an uncertain noise. “Okay is r-relative.” After another round of relieved silence, Izuku asked, “Did you r-really have to maim Overhaul?”

“Yes,” Tomura answered petulantly. “No one hurts my Player 2 and gets away with it. You should know this by now.”

Izuku snorted. He really shouldn’t encourage vengeful behavior, but he struggled not to sound fond as he said, “Okay, f-fair. Tell the others th-thank you for me? I heard w-what they did at the raid.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure. How did you end up getting shot anyway? I thought your reflexes were fast enough now you’d be able to dodge.”

“Er…I-I mean…”

“Izuku,” Tomura warned.

“My friend w-was about to get s-shot! W-what was I s-supposed to do?”

Tomura swore. “Not get shot yourself? Couldn’t you, I don’t know, pull them out of the way or throw something at the shooter?”

Izuku briefly thought of Stain’s knife that he’d tossed to Nighteye. That thing might have been big enough to take off Nemoto’s hand. If he was able to land an accurate hit at that range. Izuku frowned as he ran a few calculations. “I’m n-not good enough at th-throwing knives yet for that.”

There was a very familiar squeal in the background on Tomura’s end and the sound of a small scuffle. “Damn it, brat. Now T’s going to want to teach you too.”

“What?” Too? Who else was she teaching?

“Nevermind. Listen, how are you really? The chart T swiped at the hospital looked pretty bad.”

Toga had snuck into the hospital? That…really didn’t surprise him at this point. He propped his phone between his shoulder and ear to run his right hand over his face and sighed. “T-truthfully? Awful. My arm has to heal the s-slow, painful way, and my brain got s-stir fried. I’m q-quirkless, constantly t-tired, I can’t t-trust my ability to ‘member things, and s-speaking is harder and frus-strating. I-I hate it, T-Tomura.” Izuku didn’t bother trying to keep his tears locked away this time. There was no one here to see him, and this was Tomura.

Izuku wished nothing more than to be back on that ratty sofa in Sensei’s apartment, Tomura at his side distracting him with some RPG. It felt like the world was caving in around him. There were brief moments of calm in Eri, Aizawa, Hitoshi, and (ironically) Mei, but Izuku wasn’t sure how long he could keep doing this.

He clung to Tomura’s voice on the other end of the line like an anchor in a storm, listening to him ramble about the League beating the shit out of some group of anti-mutation quirkists. He stifled a giggle when Tomura started exaggerating parts of the fight to the point of Spinner actually kicking someone down a flight of stairs, which made no sense when he could have just stabbed them and been done with it.

“There he is,” Tomura said, sounding relieved. “Back with us, pipsqueak?”

“Mhm.”

“Good. Now,” Tomura said, slipping into the serious tone he used when planning how to tackle a difficult quest. “Did the doctors say what’s permanent and what’s temporary?”

Facts. Izuku liked facts. Those were easy to focus on and didn’t have to have emotions attached to them. Right. He shifted into his analytical mode as best he could and answered, “Q-quirk loss is permanent. A friend h-had an idea of how to possibly fix t-the fatigue and migraines. So, we’ll s-see how that goes. My mem’ry? Not s-sure. Talking sh-should improve with s-speech therapist appointments.”

“Okay, shelf the quirk thing for now. You’re missing a key party member to fix that. Focus on the quests you can tackle. You know the drill. Figure out what needs to be done to reach the goal and the steps and supplies needed to get there.”

That was kinda what Izuku was doing already, but hearing Tomura talk about it like they were planning out the next dungeon run somehow made the whole mess feel just a little more manageable. They’d taken on a max level mission in Quest Conquerors when they were only at levels 75 and 79. The odds here weren’t any worse. But he was alone.

Izuku violently shoved that thought away. He may not have Tomura here, but he did have others. He wasn’t alone. He could do this. “Thanks.”

“Someone’s got to pull you out of your head. I just happen to be the most skilled. You can repay my services in bubble tea next time we see each other.”

Izuku laughed.

“And if any of your quest attempts fail, I’m working on getting back in touch with the Doctor. I’m sure he’d love a challenge.”

“Wait, doctor?”

“…oh, you didn’t know about that. Oops.”

“Tomura? What doctor?”

“Uh, I think you knew him as Tsubasa? I still can’t see why that man needs so many aliases. Its needlessly confusing if you ask me.”

“Since when was my pediatrician a villain?!” Well, at least Izuku wasn’t freaking out about his health anymore. Now he was freaking out about a villain doctor seeing him since he was a baby. Totally an improvement.

If Tsubasa was in on the League’s workings this whole time, did that mean he was involved with the Nomu? Izuku suddenly felt a little ill. Did the guy who turned people into those…things really give Izuku medical care for more than half of his life? Oh god, the immune treatments! What if that wasn’t even what those were? The bags were unlabeled by the time he was hooked up to them, which, come to think of it, was almost definitely some sort of safety violation.

Izuku shuddered and tried really hard not to think about it. They were already stepping all over a subject they probably shouldn’t be discussing here with the call’s potential for interception. “O-okay, let’s just…not talk about that one. I’m not sure I really want to know.”

“Sounds good. I’m almost out of battery anyway. Not sure how long it’ll be before I can charge it up again. We’re kinda between places right now.” Tomura sounded so tired admitting that.

“You’ll want somewhere warm and draft-free soon. Winter’ll be here before you know it.” Izuku wondered for a moment how many of the League members had coats on them. Dabi should be able to supply fire readily enough, but if Spinner’s mutation made him sensitive to temperature changes or completely ectothermic, he could get in trouble fast.

“Thanks, mo—” Tomura cut himself off.

“Tomura?” Izuku checked his phone. The call hadn’t dropped.

“Mamagiri,” Tomura muttered.

Kurogiri could be such a mother hen when either of them was hurt or sick. When they were younger, they’d used that nickname to tease the mist man anytime he acted particularly parental. But why bring that up now?

“Did you hear? Those hero bastards caught Kurogiri.”

“What? When? How…”

“I don’t know! All I know is that he went to follow up on a lead halfway across the country, and he suddenly missed his daily check-in.” Kurogiri was punctual to a fault. He’d never flake on a commitment unless something physically prevented him from keeping it. “His phone’s disconnected, and he’s been MIA for two days now.” Yeah, nope. Something definitely happened to him.

“I’m so sorry, Tomura,” Izuku said. He wasn’t sure what else he could say. The heroes would treat Kurogiri decently, at least. A rival villain group would have done worse. Izuku really hoped it was the heroes that caught Kurogiri. But if it was, why hadn’t it been in the news? That was a huge victory for the heroes and severely limited the League’s mobility. There had to be something they were overlooking.

“Hey, Tomura? If the heroes caught him, why haven’t they been bragging about it?”

Tomura went silent on the other side of the line. Then he started cackling. “Of course! It wasn’t a decisive victory! They either lost someone or…or…Oh, Izuku, you’re brilliant.”

“Um…thanks?” Izuku was missing something, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of his slower brain or just Tomura having intel he lacked.

“I know what we need to—” Tomura cut out again, but this time Izuku was met with a dial tone instead of silence. He tried re-dialing his friend, but it went straight to voicemail.

Izuku sighed and pushed himself to his feet, feeling a little lighter than before. He was still confused and anxious about plenty of things—just different things than when he’d sat down. He supposed that was a win. As long as he didn’t have any weird nightmares about…

Izuku glanced down at his phone again and selected Dr. Tsubasa’s contact. He hit the call button and listened. Disconnected. That figured. He deleted the contact and slid his phone into his pocket. Things kept getting more and more confusing. Was anyone else in his life secretly a villain? Who was it going to be next? The cashier at the convenience store? The old man at the tea shop? Izuku scoffed at his own outlandish thoughts. A tea villain, that would be the day.

Chapter Text

“Midoriya, you have a visitor,” Aizawa said over the phone. Izuku blinked and shrugged when Eri gave him a questioning look. Izuku’s dad sometimes came by on weekends, but who on earth would be visiting on a Wednesday? “Do you want to meet them at the dorm or come over to the teacher’s lounge?”

Again, Izuku glanced to Eri where she sat on his bed, flipping through one of his analysis notebooks. (She couldn’t read his code, but she liked the drawings.) Now that his fatigue problem had improved courtesy of Mei’s brilliance, he sometimes babysat Eri while Aizawa taught his classes. She still wasn’t super comfortable around people she didn’t know, and the school was big. It made his decision here an easy one. “At the 1-A dorm is f-fine. Eri and I w-will head down to the common room.”

Aizawa grunted and hung up. Izuku slid his phone back into his pocket and scooped Eri and her current object of interest up to balance on his right hip. He didn’t even stumble this time as he moved toward his door. He allowed himself a grin as he marked that down as one more point toward his recovery. His physical therapist had him working primarily on his balance with a few coordination exercises thrown in while they waited for his arm to heal.

“Deku, where are we going?” Eri asked, looking up from notebook #15 as they waited for the elevator. She was getting better about asking questions, and Izuku felt his heart warm every time she did so with him.

Izuku smiled at her. “The common room. Apparently, s-someone wanted to see me. I’ll get you a snack w-while we wait for them. What do you w-want?”

“Apple bunnies?” she asked barely above a whisper, glancing away.

“A whole f-fluffle of them for you.”

“Fluffle?”

“A group of bunnies. Though they can be c-called a herd or a c-colony too. F-fluffle’s my favorite.”

They talked about bunnies (and rabbits and hares and their differences) until they got to the kitchen. Izuku deposited Eri in a chair at one of the tables where she’d be able to see him and got to work on her snack. He’d gotten better at awkwardly holding things with his left hand despite its fixed position and managed to hold the apple steady on the cutting board while slicing it. The more delicate cuts to make the bunny ears were trickier, and most of the bunnies came out severely lopsided. He was debating just eating these disasters himself and cutting up another apple for Eri when he heard the front door open.

“I-in the kitchen,” he called, checking over a second apple for bruises.

Footsteps approached. The person had a very long stride, and if Izuku didn’t know he had a class right now—and knew he wouldn’t have had Aizawa call ahead—he’d have thought it was Yagi. He turned to see who his visitor actually was and found Sir Nighteye standing just outside the kitchen. Izuku almost sliced the end of his finger off in surprise.

“Deku!” Eri yelled when Izuku yelped and dropped his knife.

He scrambled for a paper towel to press to the cut on his finger. Eri scampered over and tried to pull his right hand away from his left to see if he was alright. Izuku tightened his hold on his bleeding finger and said, “I’m f-fine, Eri, just clumsy. W-want to pick out a bandage f-for me? The f-first aid kit’s under the s-sink. W-white box with a red cross on it. Can you b-bring it over to the t-table for me?”

Eri found the box quickly enough but struggled with the unwieldy thing. Given that the dorm housed 20 teenagers who were also heroes-in-training, it was a sizeable kit. Sir Nighteye stepped in to help her with it and shot Izuku an apologetic look.

That threw Izuku even further off-kilter. Was his brain being slow again? Was he hallucinating? Why was Sir Nighteye here, and why was he acting like that? To him of all people? Izuku had been pretty sure the man didn’t know how to convey any emotion that wasn’t distrust or disdain.

“You’re a hero?” Eri’s tentative question snapped Izuku back to the present. Right, she probably recognized him from the raid. That explained why she wasn’t hiding behind Izuku right now.

“Yes, Eri. My hero name’s Sir Nighteye. My civilian name is Sasaki. You may call me whichever you prefer.”

A little voice in the back of Izuku’s head told him that Nighteye wasn’t used to being around little kids. He halfheartedly debated leaving him with Eri and his discomfort for a bit longer, but his finger was still bleeding. And it was starting to hurt pretty good too. So, he rescued the man. “Remember w-when I told you about a s-student following a hero a-around to learn? That’s called i-interning. I w-was interning with Nighteye w-when we rescued you.” He ignored the way Nighteye looked at him.

After a moment’s consideration understanding lit Eri’s face. “Like Aizawa!”

Izuku chuckled. “Yeah, like Zawa, but Nighteye’s not a t-teacher. He r-runs his own hero agency.”

“Okay.” Then Eri poked at the wad of paper towels Izuku still clutched and stared at Nighteye with those wide, innocent eyes. “Will you help fix Deku’s booboo?”

Izuku turned scarlet and stuttered unintelligibly as Nighteye stared back at Eri. Izuku watched in bewilderment as the hero let out a small laugh and nodded. “Of course, Eri. It is my fault for startling him while he had a knife anyway.” Nighteye held out a hand towards Izuku.

Izuku reluctantly exposed his cut. He dropped the bloodied wad of paper towel on the table and slipped his sling off to better maneuver his arm. He held out his bleeding hand, making an effort not to meet Nighteye’s eyes, remembering how they’d lit purple last time, but only after physical contact and eye contact together. He’d rather not know his future at this point. If he had one. Some bitter corner of his brain brought up the abysmal statistics on the quirkless.

Nighteye fingers were gentle enough and deft, quickly having the cut cleaned, coated in ointment, and bandaged. The bandage Eri picked out had kittens all over it. Izuku snorted, seeing it. “G-good choice, Eri.” As soon as Nighteye released him, Izuku donned his sling and retreated to the counter. He frowned as he looked at the plate of apple not-quite-bunnies. Well, the other apple had blood on it, and he didn’t feel like chancing a third attempt. So, he picked up the plate and carried it to Eri. “S-sorry, Eri. They don’t l-look pretty, but I-I did my best.”

She eagerly bit into one misshapen apple slice and hummed. “Still taste good.”

Eri settled with her treat, Izuku turned his attention to Nighteye. He nodded his head toward the sofas in the common room. They were far enough away to speak without Eri overhearing, but still within line of sight.

Izuku claimed a sofa, and Nighteye took one of the overstuffed chairs. His long legs barely fit between the chair and the coffee table. It might have been comical any other time and circumstance, but Izuku didn’t feel like laughing now. He’d wondered when this would happen, though he’d honestly thought Sir Nighteye would end his internship over a call or email. He got points for showing up in person. Izuku just hoped he wasn’t going to gloat about “being right.”

“So…” Izuku started, just wanting to get this over with.

Nighteye studied him from behind his glasses a few moments more before clearing his throat. He reached into his suit and withdrew a file folder. “I apologize for showing up unannounced, but I do need to get your account of the raid and signature for the incident report. You filled one out after Hosu, correct?” The hero pulled two pages from the folder and passed them to Izuku.

“Oh. Uh, y-yeah. I know how to f-fill this out. I w-was stuck on desk duty at Ms. Joke’s agency w-while my leg healed after Hosu.” Izuku grabbed one of Mina’s fashion magazines from the table to set the papers on and pulled a pen from his pocket. Filling the forms out was familiar and something he almost missed. They were a cousin to his analyses, after all, but focused on events rather than people.

When he finished, he clicked the pen closed and handed the papers back to Nighteye, raising an eyebrow at the man to tell him to get on with it.

Nighteye skimmed the documents before nodding and filing them away. The man sighed and stood. “Midoriya…”

Ah, here it was.

Nighteye dropped into a perfect 90° bow. “I must thank you for your actions during the Hassaikai raid. You directly saved my life and very likely Lemillion’s as well. When I couldn’t bring myself to act you shook sense back into me and prompted me to do something.”

Izuku stared wide-eyed at Nighteye. This…didn’t sound like he was being let go. It sounded like another time a hero had visited him while he was injured.

“None of the other heroes moved, but you did. Even I was frozen on the sidelines, at my limit for the day. Your actions inspired me to move again...”

It almost sounded like…

“I apologize for the way I treated you. You’ve deserved far better, and I intend to do better.” Nighteye rose from his bow to meet Izuku’s eyes. “If you still want to learn under me.”

“What.”

“I understand if you wish to change internships or refrain while you recover, but analysis work does not necessitate you being on site. I can arrange for Bubble Girl to send you files over HeroNet. Do you have a HeroNet email set up yet? I don’t recall if Mirio had his before his second year.”

Izuku’s brain finished rebooting, and he shook himself. “Y-you’re not canceling m-my internship?”

Nighteye looked at him in disbelief. “Why on earth would I do that?”

Izuku shrugged and looked away. Even with Nighteye’s unexpected declaration, Izuku could think of plenty of reasons. He’d heard them all before. “M-most people don’t want someone q-quirkless around. Plus, my brain’s s-still…” Izuku waved his hand in the air, unable to think of a suitable word, which ironically displayed the point he was trying to make.

After several damning seconds of silence, Nighteye sat back down and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Midoriya, you are aware of how One for All functions, correct?”

Izuku frowned and tilted his head slightly to the left as he eyed the hero. “I-it’s a quirk that’s been passed f-from one hero to another f-for going on two centuries, s-stockpiling energy as it goes?”

Nighteye nodded. “Yes. Did Toshinori ever tell you about his life before he got it?”

“No.”

“Toshinori was quirkless before he had One for All,” Nighteye said as blandly as if he were talking about the weather. He ignored Izuku’s shellshocked stillness and forged ahead, “All Might’s quirk had no bearing on his intellect or battle sense. I fight the majority of my battles without utilizing Foresight, and I have a very low mission failure rate. Your lack of Hyper-Processing, while a mental quirk, will have changed nothing for how sharp you are. Your quirk let you think faster, not better. So, tell me why quirklessness has any bearing on my keeping you on.”

Izuku gaped as he tried to put into words how it just did. To the rest of the world. Part of him didn’t completely believe Nighteye’s stance was genuine. Maybe he was overlooking Izuku’s quirklessness out of misplaced guilt or because he’d known Izuku’s talents before the student found himself quirkless again. Surely, he’d have sung a different tune if he’d met Izuku before the boy ever had a quirk.

Or maybe it was genuine, because the man’s best friend and coworker had been quirkless once upon a time and was quirkless again now.

Izuku needed time to think. So, at least for today, he let Nighteye have the point. “I guess it doesn’t.”

Nighteye studied him again, though his posture wasn’t quite so…severe? Guarded? “And as for your…other concerns, Midoriya, the doctors said you’re going to make a full recovery. I’d no more reject you for that than I would for your broken arm.” He rose and dusted off his pristine suit pants. “I’ll be in touch then. Ask Aizawa or another of your teachers to assist you in setting up a HeroNet email. Send me a message when you want to start back on…distance desk work. Mirio has my email.” Nighteye started walking toward the front door.

“Bye, Mighteye!” Eri called from her table.

Sir Nighteye almost tripped, and it definitely sounded like he choked. He caught himself and waved at Eri before retreating.

Izuku held it together until the door closed and the hero was confidently out of hearing range. Then Izuku laughed. He pulled Eri into a hug when she came to check on him. “You’re the best, Eri.”

---

Katsuki kicked a pebble along the sidewalk as he strolled toward his destination. Those damn remedial classes were finally over, and he could start catching up to the rest of his class. He’d even picked out his hero name, not that he intended to tell any of those extras just yet. He had someone else he needed to tell first. He looked up from the pavement to see Best Jeanist’s agency standing pristine as ever.

Katsuki and the fourth strongest hero in Japan were probably never going to see eye to eye on heroics or fashion, but he’d gone to Kamino to help rescue Katsuki when he didn’t have to. He hadn’t backed down when All for One showed up, and he’d been badly hurt for it. Katsuki grudgingly respected the man, and he was going to honor the man’s request to hear his hero name and what type of hero he wanted to be. He wasn’t going to cop out and do it over text or email either.

Katsuki took a last deep breath of polluted, city air before stepping into the agency lobby where the scent of cotton and fabric softener pervaded. He stalked over to the front desk unsure if he hoped the receptionist would recognize him or not. One would make this easier, but the other would save him the teasing he’d earned from every member of the agency during his internship.

The lady’s lilac eyes widened upon locking with his. Well, there was his answer. After the Sports Festival, internship, and Kamino, he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. “Bakugo-kun! Welcome back. Here for another makeover?” she asked with a light smirk.

“Hell no,” he ground out. “I was wondering if Jeanist was around. He wanted to talk to me once I’d made a decision about something…” He pulled his wallet from his pocket and slid his license free of its slot just enough for the lady to see what it was. “And I have.”

The receptionist’s smile grew almost as bright as Deku’s and lost its teasing edge. “Oh! Congratulations! When I heard UA was sending their first years to the test, I had no doubt you’d pass.”

Katsuki hid a grimace. Somehow this was worse than the teasing.

The receptionist’s smile fell as she continued. “Unfortunately, Best Jeanist is still out recovering from his injuries. He won’t be back for some months…” Something in the way she didn’t meet Katsuki’s eyes implied that he might not return at all.

Katsuki’s mouth felt dry all of a sudden. Had he ended two heroes’ careers that day instead of one? “Is he allowed visitors? I promise I won’t rile him up too much.”

The receptionist shook her head. “Oh! No, he’s out of the hospital and recovering at home. If you take a seat real quick, I’ll just check with his secretary…”

Katsuki nodded and moved to the closest chair that gave him a good view of the front desk and lobby door. As he sat and waited, he pulled his phone out and checked 1-A’s discord, nearly snorting when he saw someone had photoshopped Aizawa’s head and capture scarf onto a cat’s body. “Dumbasses,” he muttered, shaking his head.

He scrolled through a few of the other channels, seeing that Glasses had added chats for study groups on each of their subjects. He skimmed these to see where Shitty Hair, Raccoon Eyes, Pikachu, and Dunce Face needed help the next time they studied. He paused when he saw Deku had been messaging in the math chat. Apparently, the nerd was struggling with catching up on that one. He’d be coming back to classes next week—just in time for a test—and was freaking out.

Katsuki frowned and quickly clicked out of that chat. Damn it, now the nerd was on his mind. That whole situation was fucked up. Katsuki had kept his distance since Deku returned to campus looking more wrung out than Troll Doll after two all-nighters, and he didn’t feel like changing that distance any time soon.

Deku got his quirk destroyed. Him, the person least likely to ever have their quirk stolen, because he was friends with fucking All for One. This type of ironic shit could only happen to the nerd.

It was an infuriating reminder of seven years ago. Deku was a deku again, and Katsuki was head and shoulders above him in power. But Katsuki found himself not enjoying it as much as his eight-year-old self had. Where Katsuki once would have derived satisfaction from De—Izuku’s being put in his place, it hit wrong now. Hell, eight-year-old him would kick Izuku while he was down. He was a real asshole of a grade-schooler, huh?

Katsuki scoffed and stared out the glass doors, watching people walk by. A cluster of little kids sprinted past, and Katsuki thought of the brats he’d worked with at his remedial class. “If you keep looking down your nose at everyone, you’re never gonna notice your own weaknesses…” he repeated to himself, seeing a younger him in place of the little ringleader he’d talked to that day.

He took a steadying breath and dropped his eyes to his sweating hands, which had clenched into fists when he wasn’t paying attention and nearly started popping. He uncurled them and shoved Explosion down. He examined his scarred and calloused palms. Some days he could still feel the blood on his right hand, how it congealed and hardened in the material of his glove, how it got under his fingernails and took so much soap and scrubbing to remove.

Katsuki shook the memory off with a shudder. No, he wasn’t the boy who looked down on his classmates and beat up quirkless dreamers anymore. He was never going to be him again. He was still getting a feel for what being a hero meant to him now, but his goals hadn’t changed all that much. He was still going to be Number One. He was still going to be a hero who always won no matter the odds. But the thing with being a hero who fought and won? It kept the villains off the heroes conducting rescue efforts. If Katsuki was too big a threat to ignore…well, maybe there was more than one way to win.

Katsuki wasn’t a bully anymore, and the nerd wasn’t useless anymore. Where did he get off acting like his scrawny kid self now, flinching at every noise and acting generally pathetic? Sure, he’d been injured. So what? The nerd had spent 14 years chasing an impossible dream without a quirk. Was he seriously going to give up now, when he was finally starting to be interesting competition?

The very idea made Katsuki’s rage simmer. If the damn nerd didn’t get his shit together by the time his arm healed up, Katsuki fully intended to kick his ass. Izuku still owed Katsuki a proper fight.

“What do you—” the receptionist’s voice spiked in volume before dropping back to a quiet murmur.

Katsuki frowned and turned away from the door to watch the lady, more specifically, her face. Brows pinched and eyes anxiously dancing across computer screens. Katsuki could faintly hear the rapid clack of keys that stilled at random intervals. He couldn’t make out the lady’s voice now that she was watching her volume again, but he didn’t need to to read her lips.

“How does the Number Four hero just go missing?”

Chapter Text

Izuku had the distinct impression today was going to be terrible. He finally had the go-ahead from Recovery Girl to return to classes today, and he woke up with a headache. No big deal, he could just wear the Mei-graine Remover. Easy fix. Realizing he physically could not get his casted arm through the sleeve of his uniform shirt? Slightly bigger problem. Was he going to get in trouble if he cut the sleeve off one of his uniform shirts? Or maybe he could ask to borrow one of Iida or Sato’s? But then it would be so big on the rest of him, and oh no! If his shirt wasn’t fitting, there was no way his blazer would fit. Crap! Even if they magically did fit, both of those had buttons too. What should he do?!

The last time he’d broken an arm was in America. His school there didn’t have a uniform, and the cast had only covered his forearm. So, accommodating it had been easy. Was he supposed to break UA’s dress code and hope for leniency?

Izuku stood there despairing for several minutes before Iida knocked on his door. “Midoriya, are you ready to head out?”

“I-Iida! You’re a godsend. C-come in; I n-need your help. I can’t f-figure out what to wear.”

A very confused Iida opened the door, took one look at the shirt hanging from where it had gotten stuck on Izuku’s cast, and nodded to himself. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him before helping Izuku get the shirt unstuck and off. “While it is not ideal, do you have any short-sleeved button-ups? If you cannot wear the uniform, you should strive to be as close as possible.”

Izuku shook his head. “N-not here. My dad m-might have some boxed up at…h-home.” Izuku blinked. Where even was home anymore? That was not a question Izuku needed to be asking himself right now. Only one crisis at a time, thank you.

Iida frowned. “Hm, that is a problem. Check to see if there’s anything in your closet that might work while I consult Aizawa-sensei.”

Iida had his phone out before Izuku could think to protest. Izuku worried his lip as he shifted shirts around in his closet. He stopped when he spotted one shirt in particular. Oh, that was too perfect not to wear. He pulled it out and held it up to show Iida.

Iida read the front of the shirt and cringed. “Midoriya, that is not what I had in mind, and you know it.”

“Just for t-today? Until I get to ask Z-Aizawa?” Izuku was going to have to watch that. Calling Aizawa Zawa in private was one thing but in front of his whole class? Izuku died a little inside just picturing it. He couldn’t do much about his stutter at this point, but he could try to control that.

The longer Iida looked at the shirt, the more pained his expression grew. He glanced down at his phone and sighed. “Seeing as Aizawa-sensei has not responded to my message and how little time we have until classes start, I…suppose it will…have to do…”

Izuku already had the shirt pulled over his left arm and head. No takebacks. “What about the blazer?” Izuku asked.

Iida brightened a little. “Ah, that’s an easier fix. Tensei broke his arm a few years back right before a gala. Put your sling on, and I’ll show you.”

Izuku did as instructed as soon found himself…half wearing his blazer. His right arm was properly through the sleeve, but the left half of the uniform jacket draped over his shoulder and sling, leaving the sleeve empty. Hey, he didn’t even have to do the buttons this way! “Thanks, Iida. Let’s get going.”

“Yes! It wouldn’t do for you to be late on your first day back.”

The walk to class was quiet; the classroom was not.

“Midori!”

“Welcome back.”

“Good to see you back in action.”

“Deku!”

The last made Izuku smile, since it came from Uraraka. He settled into his desk after exchanging greetings and answering a few questions about the metal band on his head.

The bell rang right as Aizawa stepped into the room. “Good morning, class. I—” His eyes fell on Izuku and stuck. “Problem Child, what are you wearing?”

“I-I um couldn’t get the uniform sh-shirt on over the c-cast.” Izuku said sheepishly and pulled his blazer open enough to expose the kanji on his chest that read “dress shirt.”

Aizawa gave a long-suffering sigh while several of the other students snickered. “I’ll get you an extra gym shirt by the end of the day. You can wear it until the cast comes off.”

“Thank you, s-sensei.”

“Now, for today’s announcements. It’s that time of year again…” The teacher cast a critical eye over the classroom.

The students all tensed up slightly, wondering what Aizawa meant.

“The Culture Festival is only two weeks out. Today you’ll be deciding what your class’s exhibit will be.”

Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief before what their teacher said really clicked. “Culture Festival? Are we sure that’s such a good idea?” Kirishima asked

Aizawa straightened as if to say something, but Izuku beat him to it. “We a-already got to shine at the S-sports Festival. This one’s m-much more important to the S-support, Business, and General courses.” Izuku knew Mei was especially looking forward to it, mostly because Power Loader had vetoed her using her power suit in the Sports Festival. There was no such restriction on this event.

That answer seemed enough for Kirishima, though Sero voiced the real issue on everyone’s mind. “What about security?”

“This year’s festival won’t be like those in the past. It will only be open to students, staff, and a select group of outsiders. Your families are all welcome. Just inform myself or Nezu how many guest passes you’ll need, the sooner the better.” With that the teacher zipped himself up in his sleeping bag and left them to figure things out on their own.

Everyone started shouting their ideas over each other. The noise very quickly started to get to Izuku despite Mei’s device. Izuku tried to hide his discomfort as he glanced over at his teacher, catching one half-open eye. A subtle nod was all the permission Izuku needed to grab his bag and slip out of the room. He sighed in relief when the door slid closed behind him, blocking out the noise. Were the classrooms soundproofed? Actually, with Yamada as a teacher here, that made complete sense. He wondered if the soundproofing had been implemented before or after the voice hero was hired. Didn’t he graduate from UA too?

Izuku shook the questions aside and settled against the wall a short distance from the door. He might as well knock out some homework while the rest of 1-A did their thing. He was finishing one of his third year English grammar worksheets when Aizawa walked out of the room.

Aizawa met his gaze after closing the door on the continued cacophony of Izuku’s classmates. He sighed and squinted at the boy. “Going forward, when you get a migraine, I expect you to report to Recovery Girl. Just because your friend’s invention lets you push through the pain doesn’t mean you should, Midoriya.”

Izuku raised one eyebrow at the man in silent challenge. Izuku distinctly remembered Aizawa coming to class the first day back from the USJ wrapped head to toe in bandages. Pot calling the kettle black, much?

Aizawa huffed out a single, soundless laugh. “You’re my student, Problem Child, which makes you my responsibility. I’m not letting you repeat my mistakes.”

Izuku rolled his eyes before nodding, unable to keep a grin off his face. Aizawa ruffled his hair before stalking away—probably to find an out of the way corner to continue his nap. Izuku stayed outside the classroom and ignored the looks from passing students until the teacher for their next class entered the room and silenced the festival debate. Then Izuku turned off the Mei-graine Remover and slunk back inside, failing to block out the mixed sheepish and concerned gazes of his friends. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering how long it had taken them to notice he was gone.

The rest of the day was more manageable, and after classes ended most of 1-A congregated in their dorm’s common room to continue hashing out what they wanted to do for the festival. Izuku spent that time in his room decompressing and re-reading the day’s notes. When he ventured back downstairs for dinner, he found the class had settled on a concert of sorts. Mina was enthusiastically showing Aoyama a few dance moves, and another group had cornered Jiro about something.

Izuku debated ignoring them all to get his food and retreat to take his meds, but Aoyama and Mina lit up when they spotted him. Mina pounced, grabbing his good arm before he could get away. “Midori! Come on. You’re with the dance team. Unless you know how to play an instrument?” Mina glanced over at Jiro.

“No musical talent here,” Izuku answered sheepishly. “What sort of dancing?” He was admittedly curious about Mina’s dance and fighting styles, given how interwoven they appeared to be. The idea of incorporating something like that to his own aikido and MMA hodgepodge of a style was tempting. He’d never found a good opportunity to ask Mina though. She usually hung out around Katsuki, and well…

Izuku shook off the thought. Katsuki would be busy with the band crew if his shouting about drums and “killing people with music” was anything to go off of. He’d make the most of this opportunity. He turned off the alarm on his phone. Taking his meds an hour or two late wasn’t that big a deal.

Mina smiled wide and tugged on his arm. “Stand over here with the others, and I’ll show you.” It was more than just Aoyama. He’d happened to walk in when Mina was helping him with a move that was giving him trouble. Now nearly half the class was following Mina’s moves with varying degrees of accuracy. The accuracy went down as many of them tired an hour in.

“You gotta loosen up! Feel that music!”

“What music?” Ojiro whispered next to Izuku, making him laugh.

“Are you questioning my methods?” Mina pouted at them. “Or maybe my dancing ability?” Her expression turned mischievous before she flew into a much faster, more complicated number involving break dancing. Izuku watched closely how she shifted her center of gravity and balance across her shoulders and back around while swinging both legs out in a near split. Actually, if he was seeing that right, he might be able to pull off the same move despite his cast, if he might lose a bit of momentum for not being able to push off with his left hand. Mina spun back to her feet and gave the dancers a smile that was equal parts intimidation and challenge.

Izuku stepped forward before he could think better of it, itching to try. He’d spent the last two weeks sleeping, studying, or watching Eri. Now that he wasn’t constantly in pain or tired, he was restless, he realized. He’d somehow missed the feeling for what it was with all the classwork and physical therapy to focus on. Now that he was presented with the opportunity to do something physically challenging again, he craved it.

For a moment worry flashed across Mina’s eyes before it was replaced by smug determination. “Oh, we have a challenger! Show me your moves, Midori.”

Izuku’s sudden courage evaporated as all those eyes fixed on him. He swallowed and tried to pretend he was at an aikido competition. He didn’t let being watched get to him then. This was just a different set of moves.

He tried to follow the steps Mina had shown them, and Mina corrected his position or movements as he went. Then Izuku shot Mina a half-confident smirk and watched her eyes widen as he dropped into the break dancing move she’d used a few minutes before. He did a pretty decent job of it in his estimation. At least until he whacked his arm on someone’s shin. His left arm.

He swore and cradled his casted arm, gritting his teeth as he rode out the pain. Several worried and anxious classmates—friends—helped him up, but the additional jostling of his arm doubled the pain and made Izuku’s vision go spotty before he clamped his eyes shut. He choked back the sound wanting to escape and sank slowly onto the sofa he was guided to.

Someone must have gone to get Aizawa, because the next time Izuku blinked his eyes open the hero was crouched before him, looking exceptionally tired. “Did you take your dinner medications?”

Izuku flushed and looked away.

A sigh. “Thought so. Shinso, run up to Midoriya’s room and fetch his meds? Where—”

“On my desk. I w-was going to get dinner after…” He trailed off.

Aizawa hummed. “So, dancing?”

There wasn’t anything particularly judging about the man’s tone, but Izuku still couldn’t make himself meet Aizawa’s eyes. “G-guess I got overambitious.”

“You’ll get there, but no more busting a move until your busted arm’s healed. Sound good?” He waited for Izuku to nod before continuing, “We’ll have Chiyo take a look after the pain settles. Where are you at right now?”

“About a s-seven. Eight w-when I move.”

Hitoshi returned with Izuku’s baggie of medication in hand a moment later. “Recovery Girl will have your shins if you rebroke your arm,” he teased, handing it over.

“Don’t remind me,” Izuku said with a groan. She may be small and elderly, but Recovery Girl sure knew how to handle her cane.

Hagakure popped up next to him with a glass of water. “Don’t worry, Midoriya. We’ll find something for you to do. Ooh! Do we have anyone in charge of the sound and lights yet? He could totally do that.”

Several people agreed, and Izuku shrank as he realized his entire class was staring at him. Again. Even Katsuki watched him like a hawk from the wall next to the stairwell. Izuku quickly averted his eyes.

“That’s a great idea,” Kaminari said. “I bet Present Mic-sensei could show him the basics or would know someone in Support who could.”

Conversation picked back up from there, and Izuku and Aizawa headed for the nurse’s office as soon as Izuku’s arm pain had dropped to a much more bearable four. As they walked Aizawa gave Izuku a funny look.

“What?”

“Would you believe me if I told you that in my second year I sprained my ankle while learning to tapdance?”

Izuku froze mid-step. Eraserhead? Tapdancing? That did not compute. What did was the signature smile Aizawa gave him as he stopped a little ahead of Izuku. And tapped out a quick beat. Aizawa could tapdance. What the hell? No one was going to believe this.

“Exactly.”

Izuku gaped for a moment. “Zawa!”

---

Izuku did not, in fact, re-break his arm, but Recovery Girl had Aizawa schedule him with his orthopedist the next day just to be safe. That doctor found nothing wrong but did Izuku’s “sculpting” session (with his really cool bone manipulation quirk!) a little ahead of schedule to save them coming back for a visit the next week. And he had unexpectedly good news. If his arm kept healing at this rate (and with no further injuries) it should be safe to have Recovery Girl heal it the rest of the way after the Culture Festival. They scheduled one more appointment to make sure, but he was very likely getting the cast off in two weeks!

Furthering Izuku’s good mood, they made it back to campus in time for 1-A’s Heroics class. Izuku couldn’t participate in the practical exercises, but he was there. That’s what counted at the moment. He sat off to one side of the gym with the teachers, splitting his frayed attention between doing homework and occasionally pointing out a classmate who needed a hand.

Oh, did he mention that Aizawa was sitting in on this lesson? If Yagi’s nervousness was anything to go by, his presence hadn’t been planned. There was some weird tension between the two teachers that made Izuku nervous.

Near the end of the class, Yagi worked up the nerve to ignore Aizawa and ask, “How are you doing, Young Midoriya?”

“Not 100%, but I-I’m getting better,” Izuku said, glad to finally have a chance to talk to Yagi. The man had apparently visited once while Izuku was in the hospital, but Izuku didn’t remember anything of it. And with well, everything since Izuku’d come back to UA, he hadn’t had a chance to seek him out yet. “H-how are you doing? It l-looks like you’ve put s-some weight back on.” And it did. He had doubted it the day of the raid, but he was sure now. The stick of a man looked healthier.

Yagi smiled one of his genuine smiles. “I have! After Kamino, I realized that despite losing my power I still have plenty to live for,” Yagi said as he looked back out over the gym at Izuku’s classmates. “And decided it was high time I start doing something proactive about it.”

Yagi turned his focus back to Izuku again, his gaze intent. “I also wanted to thank you for what you did. I don’t think we’ll ever be able to thank you enough.”

Izuku turned bright red and waved his good arm in front of him. “Don’t thank me! It’s what anyone would have done.” Calming down a bit, he added somewhat ruefully, “I only wish I’d been good enough at throwing knives to take Nemoto’s hand off instead.”

That elicited a snort from Aizawa, who both Yagi and Izuku had forgotten by this point. They jumped and turned to face the underground hero. “That’s what you’d have done differently?” Aizawa stretched and shifted from where he’d been leaning on the wall to fully face them. “Not the most efficient, but I suppose it would do. If you really want to learn, I can teach you the basics. For anything advanced, you’ll have to ask Snipe. Of course, you’d only be able to use your right hand for now. We’d have to train you to throw left-handed later on.”

Izuku stared at Aizawa. Then a smile spread across his face. Going by Yagi’s shudder, it was one of the ones that imitated Aizawa’s. “I’d l-love to learn, Zawa.”

Aizawa nodded. “We’ll start next Heroics class then.”

Yagi looked between the two before chuckling. “It’s good you’ll be able to learn something useful while recovering. You’ll still be able to use the skill once your quirk is back too.”

Izuku’s heart skipped. “What?”

Aizawa shot Yagi a glare, but the blonde seemed to miss it. “Well, Eri is learning to control her quirk. She should be able to rewind you to before you lost yours with enough practice.”

“Yagi. Enough,” Aizawa warned, flashing his quirk for a second.

Yagi blinked at him in confusion, unsure why his fellow teacher was mad. Izuku tuned out whatever hushed conversation followed, too busy absorbing what he’d just learned. They intended to have Eri restore his quirk. To “fix” his quirklessness. Izuku had mixed feelings about that. (Did Aizawa lie? Did they think he couldn’t be a hero without a quirk? Would they kick him out if Eri failed?)

There was also a glaring fact the teachers seemed to be ignoring. He’d only had Hyper-Processing for a year and a half. That was a pretty small window in the grand scheme of things. He’d heard about the nurse Eri had rewound. Ten years erased within seconds. If Eri overshot by one day or one second of Izuku’s life, he’d be quirkless again, and he’d have lost all of the muscle he’d put on in that time to boot.

If Eri made a mistake like that…she’d never forgive herself. Izuku weighed the pros and cons and very quickly decided he’d never put her in that position. Not anytime soon or ever. Her happiness was too high a price to trade for a chance at regaining his quirk. No matter how much it hurt.

Izuku was snapped out of his thoughts by the bell ringing. Most of his classmates had already filed out, heading for the locker rooms. Yagi had vanished too. Aizawa remained, but he seemed more disgruntled than usual. He probably thought Izuku would change his mind and just wait to get his quirk back now that he knew it was on the table. “I-I’d still l-like to learn,” Izuku said cautiously.

Aizawa’s face softened into something more neutral as he looked down at Izuku. He studied his student for a minute before nodding.

The moment was abruptly ended by the gym’s door slamming open to admit Yamada and Eri. “Shoooootta! There you are. You were supposed to pick up the Littlest Listener an hour ago. Since when do you volunteer for classes you aren’t assigned to teach?”

“Deku!”

Izuku smiled and knelt to catch the incoming girl, wincing slightly at the impact. His whole arm ached after the orthopedist’s quirk, but it was going to take more than a little pain to keep him from giving Eri what she claimed were the “best hugs ever”.

Aizawa reached down to run a hand through Eri’s hair. “Careful with him, Eri. He just had a doctor appointment.” Turning to face the other teacher, he said, “I wanted to talk to All Might about something, but the buffoon ran off.”

Yamada frowned and seemed to ask a silent question, nodding at whatever answer he got. “Well, I suppose I can watch her a while longer. If Midoriya doesn’t mind her tagging along for our soundboard lesson.”

“It’s fine w-with me,” Izuku chimed in. As if he’d ever turn down time with Eri.

Aizawa sighed and let his shoulders relax minutely. “Thank you, Hizashi. Eri, think you can keep these two in line for me?”

Eri nodded, face too serious and too cute.

With that confirmation, Aizawa headed for the door. “Now that that’s handled, time to track down a certain pair of troublesome blondes.”

Mic gasped in fake dismay and threw a hand over his heart. “Shota! There are other blondes in your life? How could you? I thought we had something special.”

Chapter Text

“I’m afraid you don’t understand, Aizawa.”

“Then enlighten me, because I fail to see the logic in leaving all of Togata’s teachers in the dark. How can we teach him effectively without knowing the true nature of his quirks?”

Mirio looked between Yagi and Aizawa with mounting concern. Okay, first, Aizawa had found out about One for All, which while not the end of the world, was unnerving. Mirio thought he’d been doing a decent job of only letting people he wanted to know know about it. Second, Aizawa…kinda had a point. Even with the concern about a potential mole at UA—which there wasn’t, because they’d figured out Izuku’s phone had been hacked to trace the summer camp’s location and his notebooks the villains’ source of intel—Aizawa was an underground hero. He was the definition of discretion. And if Aizawa and Nezu both empirically trusted the other heroics teachers, they were very likely trustworthy.

“And what business do you have dragging one of my students into this nightmare?” Aizawa asked, voice darkening with more anger. “Do you have any idea how lucky we are that All for One likes Midoriya? How lucky we are he didn’t decide to torture the boy for information or force him to pick a side?”

Mirio had to say something at that. “Izuku would never—”

Aizawa shot him a look that made him stop cold. “Are you sure? You think that if a two-century-old supervillain who very likely has manipulation quirks in his collection put any effort into converting Problem Child that he’d be able to resist? Midoriya already has a soft spot for that man and Subete, calls them his friends. The way he was treated when he was quirkless, he had precious few of those.” Aizawa’s gaze softened a minute amount. “And we all know what he’ll do for his friends.”

Mirio winced. Yeah…Izuku’d already taken a bullet for him and Eri, and he’s known them less than a year. Was his kohai really so likely to switch sides for a friend though? Mirio rejected the notion almost immediately. Nah, Izuku wanted to save and help people. Mirio couldn’t see him ever giving that up.

While Mirio contemplated how far friends might go for each other, Yagi tried to placate Aizawa. “I assure you, Aizawa, I meant Midoriya-kun no harm. He stumbled upon enough himself that he would have figured out the rest on his own. I only explained the situation in context. So, he’d understand the gravity of the secret.”

Aizawa scowled at All Might but let the matter rest, for now at least. He turned a more considering eye on Mirio before asking another question, “So, All Might’s Problem Child, is one of your quirks sentient?”

Yagi sputtered an undoubtedly bloody cough. “What?”

“How’d you know?” Both adults were staring at him now. “Er…remember when I told you about Black Whip, Yagi-sensei?” At the nod from his mentor, Mirio continued, “Well, when Iwazaru used his quirk to help me turn it off, I had a…vision? Of the previous holders. That’s how I learned the quirk’s name. Fifth…that was his quirk originally. He explained that it works off of intention and emotion—way different from what I’m used to with Permeation or One for All.”

“Hm. So, this ‘Fifth’ only interfered to assist you?” Aizawa asked.

Mirio nodded. “Yeah. I mean, there was that time with my dorm room too, but I’m pretty sure that was First trying to warn me that the other quirks were about to start coming in. Hindsight’s 20/20, you know?” Mirio rubbed the back of his head, feeling suddenly sheepish.

Aizawa tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. “So, you’re going to have seven other quirks coming in? Lovely.”

“Five,” Yagi corrected. At the raised eyebrow from Aizawa, he explained. “The first user’s quirk became a part of the One for All base quirk, and I was quirkless before my mentor gave it to me.”

Aizawa stared at Yagi for far too long without blinking. “Of course, you were…” He shook himself and scrutinized Mirio a few moments longer before nodding, satisfied. “So, multiple quirks…have fun with that. At least I don’t need to worry about you being possessed and a possible security breach.”

Wait, what? That’s what Aizawa was worried about? Why would he think Mirio was…oh right! Mind control quirks were a thing. Eraserhead would think of those when his intern had a similar quirk. Most people tried their best to forget that that category of quirk existed.

Mirio snapped his attention back to the underground hero when the man’s shoulders slumped. “Please, try not to drag my Problem Child into anymore trouble. He finds plenty on his own. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take a nap.” With that, the underground hero turned to walk away.

Yagi and Mirio blinked at Aizawa in confusion before Mirio called after him, “Um, Aizawa-sensei, what made you suspect One for All was sentient?”

“Shinso’s quirk. You broke out of it the same way Chisaki did while fused with Katsukame,” Aizawa said blandly, looking over his shoulder. Mirio blanched at the comparison, and Aizawa rolled his eyes. “I imagine Tokoyami would have a similar reaction. You may wish to look into quirk counseling though. Sentient quirks have been known to act out if mistreated or left with unmet needs.”

The next few days gave Mirio plenty of time to mull over what Aizawa had said. Counseling seemed like sound advice, though Mirio had no clue how he was supposed to present his quirk to outside people at this point. Online forums offered a few approaches to handling newly manifested sentient quirks, though they were mostly geared toward parents of young children. Talking with the quirk—if it was able to communicate—and meditating seemed to be two of the most frequent suggestions.

He didn’t have much success with either. One for All had only “contacted” him twice, and it had been the one to initiate both times. Talking to his empty dorm room as if it could hear him only made him feel silly. And any time he sat down to try “clearing his mind” he only remembered everything else he should be doing.

His last Hero Ethics test had not gone as well as he’d hoped, and his Calculus grade was teetering in the low Cs. Then there was Black Whip to train, and he was still trying to rebalance his usage of One for All. (At least now he knew why it had been behaving strangely.) Then there was his class’s hero trivia contest to help plan for the Culture Festival, and he really couldn’t skimp on his regular training with Permeation either, what with the Professional Licensing Exam coming up in a few short months. If what he’d heard from his kohais about their Provisional Licensing Exam was true, the Pro exam was likely to have been overhauled and scaled up in difficulty too.

That wonderful thought spiral led him to fidgeting on top of thinking too much. After a few minutes that felt more like hours, he gave up on meditating. He left his dorm room, thoughts turning to Tamaki. His anxious friend knew how to deal with runaway thoughts. Plus, Mirio’s best friend had a calming presence in his own right.

Mirio walked to one end of his floor’s hallway and turned around. He could see the 3-A dorm through the window at the far end of the hall. He took a few deep breaths and called up One for All. He’d found 20% was enough to clear the gap, and it was much quicker than taking the stairs or elevator down from the fifth floor in his building and back up to the fifth floor in Tamaki’s.

Mirio shot forward, smiling at the familiar rush of power through his veins and over his skin. Just before hitting the window, he jumped and used Permeation on himself and his clothes (one of three DNA-infused civilian sets Sir had commissioned for stakeouts during last year’s internship). He held his first quirk for only half a second before dropping it and blinking as his eyes started taking in light once more. A repeat performance as he rapidly approached the wall of the adjacent building and a quick roll to drain off his momentum had him popping back up to his feet in front of Tamaki’s door.

He knocked lightly to avoid startling his jumpy friend before opening the door. The light was on, but Tamaki was not home. Nope, he was off in Dreamland. The poor guy had fallen asleep at his desk studying for…Public Relations.

Yikes, Mirio had forgotten they had a test in that class at the end of the week. He added that to his mental to-do list and shook his head fondly at Tamaki. After the Hassaikai raid, Tamaki hadn’t outright admitted he was getting less sleep, but he hadn’t really tried to hide the fact either.

“Finally crashed, huh?” Mirio whispered, not expecting an answer. He pulled out his phone and took a picture to send Nejiri. Then he stooped to carefully pick his best friend up. No way was Mirio letting him sleep like that all day; his back would kill him in training tomorrow. Mirio shuffled the covers back on Tamaki’s bed with one hand and set Tamaki down. And discovered that Tamaki had latched onto his shirt in those ten seconds of being carried.

While Mirio usually didn’t object to Tamaki’s occasionally falling asleep on him and using him for a body pillow, there was still that restless something plaguing him. Like knowing he had an urgent errand he needed to run but being unable to recall what it was or looking over case files with Sir and knowing that he was missing something important that his mentor surely saw. Seeing Tamaki had helped a little in the anxiety department, but if Mirio stayed he’d just wake the exhausted teen up with his inability to settle. So, Mirio permeated his chest and shirt, freeing himself. He pulled the covers up over his friend and turned the light off before tiptoeing back out into the hall.

With his favorite distraction asleep, Mirio decided to take his evening run early. He was far too keyed up to study effectively, but that didn’t mean he had to spend the next few hours unproductive. He swung back by the 3-B dorm to get his sneakers and water bottle, then took the long trail around the campus’s perimeter.

He let his mind wander as he ran, thoughts circling back to One for All frequently, though just as often straying to everything else he needed to do. Running past the first year dorms, he stumbled as he realized he hadn’t seen Izuku once since the time he visited when they were both in the hospital, and Izuku had still been in a coma at that point. He frowned, deciding that he’d pay his kohai a visit after his run. He’d visited Eri a handful of times, but Izuku never seemed to be watching her when he did. Mirio hoped Izuku didn’t think he was avoiding him. How ungrateful must he seem to have not even thanked Izuku for what he did? (He did while Izuku was unconscious, but that didn’t really count.)

Mirio shook his head, scolding himself for getting so wrapped up in his own problems that he’d forgotten about one of his friends. And one who was arguably going through something really awful right now. That cinched it. He was going to spend the rest of the day cheering Izuku up.

That decided, Mirio felt a little lighter. He picked up the pace as he neared the teacher dorms. If he finished his run fast enough, maybe he could get clearance to go off campus to pick up some junk food for an apology present.

He only slowed down when he started to pass another person on his run. Seeing someone else on the far end of campus wasn’t that unusual. They were in a hero school after all; plenty of students here were health nuts. He hadn’t expected to come across Yagi though.

“Hi, All Might,” he called as he slowed to match the retired hero’s jog.

“Ah, Mirio, my boy. What an unexpected surprise,” Mirio’s mentor greeted. He sounded a little breathless, and Mirio frowned at him. He did only have the one lung. Should he be pushing himself like this? Yagi slowed to a more leisurely pace and caught his breath before continuing, “I thought you ran in the evenings.”

Unspoken was the fact they usually trained after dinner on weekdays, ending their routine with Mirio’s run. All Might had been rather insistent on Mirio not overworking himself when he’d started working with the third year. One for All presented enough of a risk of injury on its own; there was only so much they could do about that until Mirio fully adapted to the quirk. But All Might did everything he could to minimize the risks they could control.

“Restless and couldn’t concentrate on schoolwork. Thought exercise might clear my head.”

“Hm. Anything I can help with?”

Mirio started to deny it but stopped to think and glanced around to ensure they were alone. Or, well, as alone as they could be when he’d spotted a dozen of Nezu’s spider cameras on his run already. “Actually, yeah. I’ve been thinking about One for All a lot and about what Aizawa-sensei said about sentient quirks. Did…it ever talk to you?”

They walked in silence for a minute before All Might answered, “I had a few dreams with shadowy figures in them, but the only time that I’m fairly confident of was right after my injury. Nana was there…” he trailed off, distant sadness clouding his eyes. He blinked, and it was gone. “To be fair, I was concussed and on a lot of pain medication at the time. I honestly don’t remember if they talked.”

“Really? There wasn’t any other time?” Mirio frowned, right back to where he started in terms of figuring out One for All. “Maybe they just really like me?” he offered with a chuckle.

Yagi chuckled too. “I certainly wouldn’t bla—” He stopped. Mirio stalled out a few steps in front of Yagi and turned to face him. He was staring intently at the bush to one side of the trail and rubbing his chin. “Actually…there might have been one other time.”

“Oh?”

“It was when I first started seriously thinking about looking for a successor. There was a villain attack that day, and a young man rushed in to save someone who didn’t even like him. Seeing him do that…something just clicked.” Yagi lifted his eyes from the shrubbery to meet Mirio’s eyes. “I’m very careful with my secrets, but I suddenly wanted to find that kid and tell him everything. I tried to locate him after the attack, but he’d disappeared. The feeling faded eventually, but for days afterward it was difficult to concentrate on anything but hero work. And anytime I looked at another candidate, he kept coming to mind.”

Yagi shook his head and smiled. “And then there was you, and you’ve done better with One for All than I could have ever dreamed. Knowing now that the quirk is sentient…I wonder if it has had some input on who its holders were, if it was the one interested in that kid or if it nudged me toward him and later you.”

“Huh. That makes sense. Pretty subtle though.” Mirio wished One for All was a little more vocal but felt bad immediately after. He’d already heard from it in detail twice, which was more than All Might had in his decades with it. And not everyone had to be as chatty as Nejiri. One for All might be closer to Tamaki in that regard: saying little, but always saying something interesting when he did speak up.

They moved on to other topics and walked for a while longer before Yagi took a fork in the trail to head back. Mirio ran the rest of his own route and went to shower and change. He swung by the teachers’ dorm again to get permission to leave campus and headed for the corner store. He remembered Izuku liked pocky, but aside from that he had no idea what snacks the guy preferred. So, he got a little bit of everything.

He shot Izuku a text on his way back to campus. “Want to hang out?”

By the time he walked through UA’s gates, he had a reply. “At the firing range with Mei and Shin right now. You can join us?”

Mirio sent an affirmative and headed for the Support building. With Hatsume involved, Mirio half expected to need to put out a fire when he got there, but the firing range was surprisingly free of explosions and scorch marks. The mad scientist in question had set up shop at a bean bag chair in one back corner tinkering with…something. Maybe a combination between a gauntlet and a spraying device? And since when did they have bean bag chairs in here? Izuku and Shinso stood a few firing lanes apart, each with noise-canceling headphones and a handgun. There were also several throwing knives on the counter at Izuku’s lane. Snipe waved from where he leaned against the wall supervising.

The others didn’t notice his arrival until he set his bag of unhealthy treats on the table at the back. Mei was on him in an instant, invention forgotten as she perused the offerings. She made off with the amazake KitKat and a soda with an uncharacteristic lack of sales pitches. The boys somehow heard her rapid footsteps and turned to see what was happening. A minute later they had their guns disassembled and laid out on their lanes’ counters. Snipe checked over their work while they eyed the snacks. Shinso snatched the melon pan and a canned coffee, and Izuku laughed while taking the bag of lychee gummies. Considering Izuku only had the one free hand at the moment, Mirio opened the soda his kohai was eyeing and set it on the edge of the table.

That earned him a brilliant smile. “Thanks, s-senpai!” Then Izuku opened his bag of gummies with his teeth instead of asking for help. Mirio laughed at the comic dismay on Izuku’s face when a few gummies fell to the floor.

“Serves you right,” Shinso said as he sank into a second bean bag chair. “You’re too good with weapons. This is the universe seeking to balance things out.”

Izuku stuffed a gummy in his mouth and grumbled, “I’m only good w-with guns because I already had to l-learn my gauntlets a-and grapple gun. And you’re getting better too. Next time you pick up a villain’s gun you might actually hit close to where you’re aiming.”

“Ouch. Thanks for that vote of confidence, Zuku. Maybe you’ll be able to hit the bullseye with a knife by the time we graduate.”

Izuku pouted before turning away from Shinso’s smirk to plead his case with Hatsume. “Mei, he’s bullying me.”

“Don’t worry, Izuku,” Hatsume said while waving a hand in his direction, though her legendary enthusiasm seemed absent. “I’m sure you’ll be a pro at throwing knives too in no time. Then I’ll make you knives with trackers in them! Ooh! Or maybe coated in a sedative…” Hatsume stuffed the last of her KitKat in her mouth and picked up the tablet sitting next to her seat and starting to rapidly tap away on it.

Mirio picked out his own snack and leaned back against the table next to Izuku as they watched Snipe clean the handguns and pack them away in a metal case. After a few minutes, Mirio noticed Shinso keeping a wary eye on him. He remembered what Aizawa had said and snapped his fingers. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, turns out my quirk is sentient.”

“Wait, s-seriously?” Izuku’s eyes were wide and he started to reach for a pocket before stopping himself. “I have so many ques-stions.”

“You and me both,” Mirio said with a laugh. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Shinso relax. “But we can talk quirks later. How’ve you been doing? What’s all this about throwing knives and guns? Picking up a new long-range weapon?”

“As good as I-I can be, a-all things considered. Zawa showed m-me the basics of kn-knife throwing, but S-Snipe’s helping too. And w-why not learn to shoot one-handed w-while I’m already ‘ere?”

“Kid’s got decent aim too,” Snipe called from where he’d retrieved the targets they’d been using. “Grouping’s a little more scattered this round though. Your wrist gettin tired?”

Izuku grimaced and shook out the wrist in question. “A little.”

Snipe walked over and held a hand out to Izuku. Izuku sighed and set his bag of gummies aside before presenting his wrist to the teacher. Snipe gently prodded at the joint and had Izuku flex and extend it. “Looks like a mild strain. Maybe some bruising. Nothin Recovery Girl can’t fix, and if you want to take notes in class tomorrow, you’ll be seeing her.”

“Don’t worry, Snipe-sensei. We’ll make sure he goes,” Mirio said, slinging one arm around Izuku’s shoulders.

“One way or another,” Shinso added ominously.

“What? We’re leaving?” Hatsume asked, eyes popping up from her tablet to scan the group. Then she dropped the tablet onto the bean bag and grabbed her invention as she scrambled to her feet. “We can’t go yet! I still need to test this baby out.” She sprinted to an open firing lane. Mirio only noticed now that there was a third target set up at the end of the range.

Hatsume fitted the device to her right forearm and clenched her fist slowly twice. The nozzle on one side deployed and whined in a way that made Mirio nervous. He kept his arm around Izuku’s shoulders just in case he needed to use his quirk for a quick save.

Izuku and Shinso leaned forward, clearly expecting something. Hatsume threw a crazed smile over her shoulder before yelling “Fire in the hole!” A shot of bright white energy flew from the nozzle almost too quick to track.

Mirio blinked spots from his eyes and shook his head. That was not what he was expecting that to do. He was thinking some sort of fast-drying capture foam or cement like Gang Orca’s sidekicks used, not a plasma bolt. How did she even make that? When Kenranzaki tried that last year, she’d levelled a whole lab and burnt her eyelashes clean off. He looked back at Hatsume who already had the slightly smoking device off and sitting on the counter as she checked it over, muttering sullenly to herself about heat dispersal and kickback.

The boys congratulated her on a (mostly?) successful test, and Shinso even set the fire extinguisher down before joining Hatsume and Izuku at the lane. Mirio stole one of Izuku’s gummies and watched the three interact. Izuku and Hatsume did most of the talking—with many animated hand gestures—while Shinso hung back out of gesture range, content to listen and occasionally throw in a comment or two. Hatsume’s frown slowly melted into a grin before regaining a small measure of its usual manic energy.

Snipe settled beside Mirio and whispered, “Some varmint leaked the underground robotics fight’s location to Endeavor’s agency and got it delayed. Hatsume’s been driving Maijima up a wall all day exploding more things than usual. Until those two dragged her down here about an hour ago.”

Mirio hummed as he watched Izuku say something that sent Hatsume running for her tablet again, smiling. “That’s Deku for you. He’s always saving someone, even if they don’t know or won’t admit they need it.”

Snipe chuckled. “Ain’t that the truth. He’s got a heart of gold. Shame some people can’t see it.” Snipe stepped away then, telling the first years to pack it up.

Mirio tilted his head in thought, still watching Izuku. When the others turned away to move the pieces of Hatsume’s partially disassembled plasma cannon, Izuku’s smile softened into a small, content grin. Mirio smiled and shook his head. Izuku was always saving someone, even when he was recovering from losing his—

Mirio’s thoughts ground to a halt. Izuku had lost his quirk. Mirio had two (or was it seven?) now. Mirio looked down at his hand, letting the smallest amount of One for All spark across his skin. Then he looked back up at Izuku. Something about this felt…right.

Maybe his attempts at communicating with One for All earlier hadn’t been as fruitless as he’d thought. After a minute he decided to wait until his kohai was all healed up to make the offer. No sense tempting him with something he couldn’t safely use right now.

As their group exited the shooting range, Mirio’s restlessness was nowhere to be found.

Chapter Text

Izuku decided he loved the outdoors. Especially when all of his classmates and their very loud rehearsals were indoors. Seriously, the bass made the whole dorm rattle, and he swore he was never going to get that song out of his head now. Not that he hated it. Jiro had picked out a great song. It was just frustrating how little he could contribute right now.

“Hero too. Yeah, I’m some hero. I’ve missed nearly half the practicals for this semester already. I’m going to be so behind,” Izuku whined to no one in particular. Everyone else was actually helping with the production. Until they could borrow the gym for dress rehearsals Izuku couldn’t really do more to practice his sound and light skills. He covered as much of his face with one hand as possible, frustrated in a helpless sort of way that he couldn’t even do that effectively.

“Hey, isn’t that him?”

Izuku uncovered his face and lifted his head from the grass to see who had found him. Two guys about his age were standing on the path near his patch of shade. The lack of recognition made Izuku suspect they were in one of the General classes.

They were both staring at Izuku, and something about them put Izuku on edge. He was suddenly acutely aware of how far from the dorms and main buildings he was. He just wanted some peace and quiet. He should have known better.

“Yeah, that’s the guy who lost his quirk. Think they’ll boot him so another gen ed student can move up next year?”

“Nah, it’d be bad publicity to kick a dog while he’s down. Next year’s Sports Festival though? Any sympathy points will have dried up by then. If he doesn’t fail out on the finals.”

Ah, that’s what was rubbing Izuku wrong. These two gave off the same vibes as his old bullies. Yeah, no thanks. He was not waiting around to see if they got physical. Especially not with the risk of setting back his arm’s healing. Izuku watched and waited until both students glanced away, laughing. Then he jumped to his feet, grabbed his backpack, and bolted.

A shout sounded behind him, and Izuku veered further into the trees. He didn’t know their quirks. There were plenty of quirks that did nothing against robots but worked exceptionally well on human targets, and memories of that cursed line of sight dizziness quirk made him wary of staying in the open. A muffled swear behind him convinced him he’d made the right decision.

Okay, he was far from people, and his pursuers were between him and help and driving him farther away. They likely didn’t have any endurance training, but they also didn’t have a backpack crammed full of textbooks. He’d need to lose them, circle back around, or call for help.

Under normal conditions, Izuku had no doubt he could lose them, but his stamina was still rebounding, and he couldn’t climb very well with one arm out of commission. And he wasn’t sure he could maintain his lead long enough to make it back to a more populated area. He reached for his cellphone, only to yelp and drop it when it suddenly turned hot enough to burn. Great, one of them had some sort of ranged thermal manipulation quirk. He left his phone, hoping he’d be able to find it later. So, calling for help was out too. At least, in the traditional sense. He checked his memory of the UA map he’d studied at the start of the year. He was coming up on one side of the Restricted Zone. The sensors should alert the teachers and Nezu. Izuku just hoped they’d be able to get to him before the bullies did.

Izuku veered slightly to the left to make a more direct approach to the boundary, starting to pant. He ignored the branches of bushes and trees that scraped at his arms and legs as he passed. He wished he hadn’t changed out of his uniform before coming out here; he sorely missed the protection the reinforced blazer and pants afforded.

He blinked sweat from his eyes as he made out a warning sign and low fence. Izuku didn’t hesitate to vault over the barrier and keep going. He wasn’t sure how far in the sensors were and hoped he’d gone in far enough when he turned to race along the fence line before he could lose sight of it. He could still hear his pursuers on the other side of the fence and slightly behind him. He didn’t like how close they were getting.

Izuku wasn’t sure if it was the second student’s quirk or sheer clumsiness on his part, but his foot caught on something. He went down hard, curling in on himself and rolling to protect his left arm. He scrambled back to his feet a few seconds later only for one foot to slide out from under him. The partially melted sole separated from the rest of his left shoe. Maybe that heat manipulation quirk only affected rubber? His phone case did have rubber in it.

A loud crunch yanked him from his analysis. He whipped his head around toward his pursuers, catching the forward one’s smug grin. They’d finally crossed the fence. The frontrunner made a grab for Izuku, but Izuku quickly broke his grip and kicked his knee. He ducked under a punch from the second one, hooking the boy’s ankle with his damaged shoe and yanking the bully’s feet from under him.

Izuku hobbled over to a tree while they recovered, keeping the solid surface at his back as he faced the two. He unslung his backpack, holding onto the strap and fully prepared to use it and its considerable weight of knowledge to bludgeon whichever bully approached him first. If they tracked him this far, they were definitely not letting him go. He just had to hold out long enough for teachers to intervene.

The scratches the first bully left when grabbing Izuku’s arm stung, his right hand felt raw where his phone had burned him, and his lungs ached from the unexpected run, but he steeled himself to fight anyway. Another part of his brain was busy panicking and wondering if the entire perimeter of the Restricted Zone even had sensors. That was a huge area to cover. If they didn’t wire up this part for its distance from campus, no one was coming to save him. He really shouldn’t expect it. When had anyone ever saved him from his bullies before?

His right hand slowly lowered until his backpack touched the leaf litter. What was even the point? His shoe was trashed. He couldn’t run. No one was coming, and he was outnumbered. As always. These two weren’t going to leave until they got what they wanted. Maybe he should take a page from his early elementary days and just take it. Get it over with so he could maybe make it back to the dorm before curfew. If he fought back, he’d end up getting blamed anyway.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding about Doubt, were you?” One student asked the other. He sounded much farther away than the few feet separating them from Izuku. “It sure did a number on him.”

Izuku tried to focus on them and their exchange. They were the threat here…but wasn’t everyone at school? When did he let himself forget that? He knew better.

A hand yanked his backpack from his loose grip, and Izuku flinched back against the tree. Right, he was useless. Of course, he’d let his guard down and lost his only weapon. He curled his right arm protectively over his left and closed his eyes, sinking down against the tree and bracing for the blow he knew was coming.

A sharp caw assaulted his ears instead. What? He opened his eyes to see a black blur of feathers repeatedly divebombing the two students who’d cornered him. One boy had scratches on his face. Both ran from the feathered menace after a few futile attempts to swat it away. The bird gave chase until they’d crossed the fence and run out of sight.

Izuku stared in bewilderment. When that same black bundle of violence dropped out of the branches to land directly in front of him, Izuku curled in on himself again, this time shielding his face. Birds liked to go for the eyes, right? But no attack came.

A soft, rattling croon convinced him he wasn’t about to be ripped apart, at least not yet. He cautiously lowered his right arm and opened his eyes. A crow stood centimeters away from his foot, staring intently up at him with a tilted head. Seeing it finally had his attention the crow hopped forward and flapped its wings to land on his right knee. Izuku didn’t dare to move and hardly breathed as the bird—that looked much bigger up close—tilted its head this way and that seemingly inspecting him.

The crow fluffed out its feathers and pecked at his right arm. Izuku flinched back before realizing it hadn’t hurt him. The peck had barely even been a pinch. His eyebrows drew inward in confusion, and he glanced down to see that the crow was pecking at the scratches on his arm. They’d barely even broken skin, but the bird seemed fixated on them. He almost giggled at the absurdity. People didn’t care about him; why should a bird?

A peck to his cheek snapped the outside world back into focus. The crow was on his shoulder now, stretching its neck comically out to stare him in the eye. “This is where you peck out my eye, right?” Izuku asked resignedly.

The crow shivered its feathers and cawed loud in his face. Was that a no on the eye-pecking then? The bird leaned side to side then stared at him again. Izuku got the odd sense that this bird was smarter than he—oh! Oh, this was that crow! The one he’d seen in the Restricted Zone before. It had nodded to him then. So, did it just try to imitate shaking its head right now? Maybe it had a quirk like Nezu. That would explain a few things, but not why it had defended him. He was the one to lead the other two into the crow’s territory. Why defend him of all people?

The crow made that low rattle again before hopping back to his raised knee. It cawed off into the forest, and a snort answered it. Izuku stiffened and pressed back against the rough bark behind him as the scarred sika deer from before materialized out of the shade and underbrush. The shadows were a lot darker now. How long had he been out here? He wondered if anyone had noticed he was missing yet. Probably not. They all had better things to do than keep track of—

Izuku held his breath as the sika deer sniffed at his hair. Rather than stomp on or gore him as expected the buck shook his head and moved a few paces away before laying down. His ears and eyes were trained on Izuku in what he could only interpret as an order to not move. Izuku glanced back to the crow in time to see it bob its whole body in approval before taking flight. Izuku was pretty sure it was heading for campus.

Izuku glanced at the deer and the boundary every once in a while, calculating how quickly he could make it to the fence if the herbivore decided he was done tolerating Izuku’s existence. He didn’t like his chances. He was contemplating how long it would take to die from being gored when water splashed him in the face. Izuku spluttered and wiped the moisture from his eyes in time to see a floating glob of water retreat to the sika and line up with a missing tine on his antlers. A moment later the water transmuted and reattached as the missing tine. Izuku stared wide-eyed at the deer. He didn’t even know an animal could have that complex a quirk.

That wondrous conundrum kept his mind occupied long enough for a flashlight’s beam to appear from the woods in the direction of campus. The light wove quickly toward him, and a sharp, short caw announced the crow’s return right before the bird landed on Izuku’s knee again. He heard a voice call his name right after. The crow led a teacher here?

Izuku felt relief before choking on it a moment later as he remembered how teachers acted. But not his teachers at UA. Not yet. But they might. But they wouldn’t! Izuku’s head hurt.

“Midoriya.” Aizawa was here, and Izuku was torn somewhere between fear and gratitude. The teacher crouched in front of him and shone the flashlight over him, pausing to examine his arm without touching. “Kid, I need to look at your eyes real quick, alright?”

Izuku nodded, hesitantly looking up for Aizawa to shine the light in them. He squinted as his headache flared.

Aizawa cursed under his breath. “Midoriya, listen to me. You’re under the influence of a quirk. You’re going to be okay, but we need to get you back to the infirmary. Think you can walk?”

Izuku was still processing the words when the crow hopped off his knee to the ground and tugged at his damaged shoe with its beak. Then it cawed at Aizawa.

That bird definitely had a quirk. Which raised the question of why there were multiple, quirked animals living in the forest on UA’s property. Izuku shelved that question when he heard Aizawa grumble something.

“Alright, Problem Child. You’re not walking back on that. You’ll slice your foot open on something in the dark. So, you’re going to climb on my back and I’ll walk you out of here. Sound good?”

No, it did not. But it didn’t sound all that bad either. Or it sounded absolutely, terrifyingly risky and completely safe all at once, and why wasn’t anything making sense? Aizawa snapped his fingers, and Izuku blinked, trying to get his eyes to focus in the failing light.

“Things are probably jumbled in your head right now. That’s the quirk. It attacks a person’s doubts and insecurities, gets worse the more you have, and makes it hard to think straight. But you’re tougher than any quirk. You’ve proven that several times over. This is just one more, and it’s nowhere close to Muscular’s strength or Nighteye’s foresight.” Aizawa let his words sink in for a minute before holding out a hand palm up. “Think you can trust me long enough to get you out of here?”

Izuku took a breath and let it out. He knew from experience after experience that Aizawa was trustworthy. Everything else was a quirk screwing with his head. There weren’t many ways to fight psychological quirks, but Izuku thought this one had a fairly obvious weakness now that he knew what was going on. If his thoughts were betraying him, he couldn’t take time to think.

Aizawa chuckled. “You’ve got it, Problem Child.”

Oh, he’d been muttering. He gave Aizawa a sheepish smile that probably came off as more of a grimace and took his hand. Izuku let the teacher pull him to his feet, holding in a hiss at the pull on the skin of his damaged palm. He focused on the crow as it landed on his shoulder once more and allowed Aizawa to lift him onto the pro’s back. The bird bobbed along with them as they moved and started messing with Izuku’s hair. Izuku was fairly certain the bird had never seen curls before. It seemed fascinated with how they bounced back up after being pulled straight down. It made for such a good distraction he didn’t even notice they’d been joined by another teacher. The faint smell of roses tickled his nose before his eyes drooped. He let his head rest against Aizawa’s shoulder and drifted off to the sight of the crow taking flight.

---

The quirk wore off by the time he woke up in the infirmary the next day. He had a migraine, but at least his thoughts were…logical again. His doubts and close-held misgivings were neatly packaged in their rusty lockbox and shoved right back into a far corner of his mind where they belonged.

When he asked about what he missed while he was out, a vindictive smile spread across Aizawa’s face. “Turns out I got to expel someone this year after all.” Izuku wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be worried, but at least Aizawa had fun?

Izuku was excused from classes for the day, and Aizawa designated himself to keep a close eye on Izuku to make sure he had no other side effects from the quirk. Izuku wanted to feel bad, but it was Aizawa’s own choice to leave his classes to Midnight for the day. That and feeling guilty took too much effort when his head hurt this much.

He spent most of the morning knocked out on pain meds in Aizawa’s living room while the man graded papers at his kitchen table. Eri joined him on the sofa at some point, and Izuku wondered how she’d snuggled up under one of his arms without waking him.

After a few extra hours’ sleep and a good lunch, his head felt less like a toppled china cabinet. And now that he was more himself, Eri dragged him to her playroom to help her arrange every last one of her stuffed animals by their friend groups (some of them didn’t get along well and had to be kept separate) and show him all the pictures she’d drawn since his last visit. For only being a span of two days, Eri had done a lot of drawing. Izuku ignored the quiet whisper in his mind that pointed out she’d only gotten so enthusiastic about it after seeing him draw in his notebook.

He made sure to compliment every one of her masterpieces, and he about melted when she presented him with a drawing of himself, Eri, Mirio, and Aizawa to keep. He wiped away tears before they could fall. Eri understood by now that happy tears were a thing, but she still tended to worry when she first noticed them.

After running out of new pictures to talk about, Eri sprinted from the playroom to return moments later with a stuffed lion Izuku was fairly certain she’d had since the hospital. She plopped down on the rug a few feet in front of him and set the lion in her lap. She looked up at Izuku for a moment. “Those two hurt you yesterday.”

It was more a statement of fact than a question, but Izuku nodded all the same. “S-sometimes people are mean w-when you’re different.”

Eri nodded too, fully understanding. (And didn’t that break Izuku’s heart?) Eri’s face scrunched up in something that might have been anger. Then she lifted one of the lion’s legs, exposing a broken seam where the leg met the plushie’s belly. Izuku was about to volunteer to fix it for her when Eri stuck her fingers into the torn seam and pulled out…was that a pocketknife?!

Eri held the weapon out to Izuku like it wasn’t weird that she had it in the first place. “To keep you safe,” Eri said by way of explanation.

Izuku blinked dumbly at the folded knife. “Eri, w-why do you have that? W-where…”

Eri smiled and whispered, “Your secret friend gave it to me.” Toga. Of course, it was freaking Toga. “So, I can defend myself if anyone mean ever tries to hurt me again.” Eri pulled the knife back to herself before opening it and pointing it at her plushie. “She showed me.”

Well, Izuku had been willing to let the fact Toga got into the hospital slide, but after hearing an enthusiastic unicorn talk about where to aim a stab or cut if anyone tried to mess with her (with alarming accuracy), he was left with no choice. "I’ll be r-right back, Eri,” he said, standing. “Zawa," he called as he walked toward the living room.

A huff answered him from—was his teacher actually in his sleeping bag in the corner? Didn't he have a perfectly good bed in his bedroom? The man sighed once he was spotted. "What is it, Midoriya?"

Izuku froze for a moment, old instincts telling him the teacher didn’t want to be bothered; Izuku was always causing trouble. He shoved the thought away as soon as it formed. He shook his head. Aizawa cared, and he definitely wanted to know something like this. "S-so...you know how Eri and I spent a w-week in the hospital?" At a nod from the teacher Izuku continued, "W-well, turns out Eri had a v-visitor a few times while we w-were there."

That got Aizawa's attention. He was upright and out of his sleeping bag faster than Izuku could track. “What?”

"S-someone snuck in and...w-well, taught her...aggressive s-self-defense with a knife? Hehe."

Aizawa’s expression only darkened. “Problem Child, explain.”

“Toga. She s-seems to have taken a liking to Eri? And s-showed her how to stab s-someone if they tried to grab her? And gave her a pocketknife that s-she’s been h-hiding in her stuffed lion.”

Aizawa swore, starting to pace. “I thought Hizashi got her the lion. How did she even—” Aizawa stopped short. “The attack on Chisaki’s transport. Two EMTs were alone with the League for a few minutes before heroes could track them. She must have gotten blood from one of them. I have to make a call.”

Izuku watched on, wondering if he should also mention that she’d taken pictures of his medical file while infiltrating the hospital. He considered it for a moment before deciding to let his doubt have this one. It’s not like Toga was going to do anything nefarious with his medical report; she’d snatched it to reassure Tomura that Izuku was alive. No reason to worry the pro over that.

He retreated to the playroom without another word. Aizawa was almost definitely going to confiscate Eri’s knife once he got over the fact a villain with a blood quirk had been in a hero hospital with an undoubtedly large supply of blood bags for transfusions. While Izuku couldn’t condone Toga’s methods, he could agree with her intentions. No one was laying a finger on Eri if he could help it. And Eri didn’t necessarily need to have a knife to do damage. So, they listened to Aizawa’s agitated voice drifting from down the hall while Izuku showed Eri how to headbutt someone to maximum effect with her horn and where to aim when stomping on a person’s foot.

Chapter Text

Things settled down for a few days, and Izuku was parked on one of Gym Beta’s bleachers while waiting for 1-A’s practical Heroics class to wrap up. He’d already done his practice sets with his throwing knives and knew better than to overdo it when he still needed to use his right hand for everything.

Today he used the downtime to study for his History final. His independent classes were still a thing he had to wrap up if he wanted time to take Support classes in person. He sorely missed his quirk while studying for them, and his grades had dipped as a result of just how much harder he had to work to retain information, but he was making progress. He’d decided earlier in his recovery to focus on knocking out one extra class at a time since he was allowed to take their assignments and finals at his leisure. He’d finished his batch of third year English work a few days ago. Now it was History. Then he’d worry about Fashion and Costumes. He wanted to finish as many classes as possible while he was healing. Once the cast came off, physical therapy was going to eat up a lot of his free time.

Izuku was so focused on copying his History notes that he didn’t notice Aizawa enter the gym. He jumped and dropped his pen when Aizawa said right next to him, “Midoriya, a word?”

“Oh, hi Za-Aizawa-sensei.” Izuku shot a quick look to see if Jiro or Shoji had overheard him.

Aizawa raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t comment. The underground hero nodded toward the door.

Izuku quickly collected his things and followed him. Once they were in the hall with the soundproofed door closed behind them Aizawa turned to face him. “Problem Child, the Commission requested you for something. First, you can refuse, but I would advise against it. It’s not wise to make enemies with the people signing your paychecks and issuing your license.” A displeased curl of his teacher’s lip told Izuku what Aizawa thought of things.

Izuku didn’t like where this was going either. “W-what’s their request?”

Aizawa sighed. “They want you to visit Tartarus to talk to Nomani. Apparently, he’s being less than cooperative when they try to question him or do a pysch eval. He just ends up asking after you and Subete.”

Izuku feigned surprise. “S-someone caught Kurogiri? Is the r-rest of the League in custody? Was anyone hurt?” He bit his tongue to keep from asking why he’d heard nothing of it on the news.

Aizawa shook his head. “Just him, kid. The others are still at large. Gran Torino and Tsukauchi are a little worse for wear, but they’re recovering well.”

Izuku frowned. That didn’t explain how they were hurt. There was something else that didn’t make sense too. “Zawa, they’re not inviting m-me to Tartarus to keep me there, a-are they?” Izuku wasn’t as naïve as some might think. He knew that not everyone was as accepting of—or at least non-confrontational about—his friendship with Tomura and All for One as his teachers and friends here at UA. He honestly couldn’t put it past the Commission to hold him hostage in attempt to lure the League out of hiding or extort information from Sensei.

Aizawa drew himself up and bristled. “If they try, Nezu will rain hell on whatever’s left of them after I’m through.”

Izuku barked a laugh before covering his mouth with his right hand. A few more giggles escaped before he reigned himself in. “O-okay. Um, w-when did they…?”

“As soon as possible. It’s a fair drive. So, we’ll be out the whole day. Should I let the warden know we’ll be by tomorrow?”

Izuku nodded.

“Alright. If you’re done with your knife sets, you can go change and head to Nezu’s office. He wanted to talk to you too. Then you can head back to the dorm. You’ll have fewer distractions studying there.” The teacher ruffled his hair before walking away.

It had been a while since Izuku talked to Nezu. Actually, their last conversation had been before the internships. That thought made Izuku frown. He hoped the principal wasn’t too disappointed in losing one of the few people who could almost keep up with him in mental gymnastics.

A few minutes later he stood outside Nezu’s door. “Ah, Midoriya. Do come in. Would you like some tea?”

“Y-yes, please,” Izuku said, catching sight of his file pulled up on Nezu’s computer screen as he stepped forward to accept the offered cup. “You w-wanted to speak with me?”

“Yes, we have several things to cover, but first things first. How are you adjusting?”

Izuku took a deep breath. So, he’d noticed the dip in Izuku’s grades. He was one of the smartest creatures in Japan after all. “I’m getting there. I-I forgot how tedious it w-was to memorize things before I-I had my quirk. I haven’t had any m-memory lapses recently that I’m a-aware of. Which…I-I guess doesn’t r-really mean much, huh?”

Nezu chuckled. “If it makes you feel better, you have been having fewer lapses. Aizawa has been tracking any he notices. You had him quite worried that first week back.”

Izuku flushed and studied his tea.

Nezu allowed the silence to stand for a time. When Izuku had gotten through half of his tea, Nezu spoke again. “Recovery from brain injuries can be a tricky thing, and there can at times be setbacks. I want you to know, Midoriya, that if it ever gets to be too much, I am willing to give you an extended leave. Most of your classwork can easily be made up over one of the breaks, and several of the teachers have expressed willingness to help you catch up should you ever choose to take that path.”

Izuku met Nezu’s eyes and saw sincerity there. He attempted to grin, but it was a tight-lipped, strained thing. He hadn’t stepped back after Kamino, and he didn’t intend to take a break now. He had too much to prove, too many people willing to pounce on him at the first sign of weakness. “Thanks, Principal Nezu.”

Nezu nodded before refilling both of their teacups. “Now, as for your visit to Tartarus tomorrow, I cannot in good conscience send you in blind. I’m sure you’re aware of certain parties’ opinions regarding your…association with the League.” At Izuku’s nod, Nezu continued, “The warden and several of the guards at Tartarus fall into that category, I’m afraid. Now, they are adults, but there is the possibility of them trying to provoke a reaction while you’re there and being recorded.”

“I-I won’t do anything to compromise the s-school’s reputation,” Izuku said. He was familiar with taunts and jeers.

“I know you won’t,” Nezu said, voice a little softer than before. He cleared his throat before smiling. “On a lighter note, Morgana seems rather taken with you.”

“Who?”

“The crow who chased off your attackers the other day. She’s a cagey one when it comes to humans, but she’s gotten a soft spot for you.”

Izuku opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to decide what question to ask first.

Nezu laughed. “You can ask her all about it yourself later. Take your laptop with you, and she can type her answers.”

That only gave Izuku more questions.

“But I cannot stress enough how imperative your silence on her existence is. She and the others have already escaped captivity once.”

Oh. It was a refuge. The Restricted Zone was a sanctuary for quirked animals. He’d heard stories of what types of things happened to those. Anyone who even thought about applying to UA had. Nezu himself had been experimented on before escaping and winning a highly publicized legal battle to have himself declared a person with equal rights to humans. There were rumors circulating that he had suffered under the HPSC rather than an unscrupulous mad scientist. A rumor that was given credence by no one ever being brought to court for the crime. How many others had Nezu arranged rescue for? How many was he hiding right under the HPSC’s nose?

Izuku stared wide-eyed at Nezu before nodding furiously. “I-I would n-never endanger them or you. N-no one deserves that kind of treatment.”

Nezu hummed his agreement. “I had to make sure. I apologize for keeping you from your studies, Midoriya. You’re free to go.”

“Thank you for the tea.” Izuku bowed before leaving. On his way back to the dorm, he could have sworn he saw a small black shape following him in the trees. Izuku grinned and decided to leave his balcony door open while he studied, just in case.

---

There were a lot more checkpoints heading into Tartarus than Izuku expected. When they parked and got out of the car there were even more. All electronics were left at one. A full body scan and pat down were done at another. Retinal scan, fingerprinting, visitor IDs, and Izuku was pretty sure that one room with the weird lights was designed to nullify quirks to check for shapeshifters. At least, that was his guess when waiting in that room for their escort seemed to give Aizawa a headache but left Izuku unaffected.

An armed guard walked them to an elevator shortly after. Even the elevator had machine guns mounted in the upper corners. Izuku grew more nervous as the elevator stopped on the seventh basement level instead of taking them straight down to the Isolation Block like he expected. Aizawa had been on guard ever since the waiting room, but the pro didn’t question it when they proceeded down one of the walkways along the cell block. So, Izuku told himself it was probably normal.

They marched in silence until a familiar voice caught his ear, “Midoriya?”

Izuku froze mid-step before turning to see none other than The Hero Killer standing in the open doorway of a cell. The two looked each other over for a minute before the guard—who had stopped when Izuku did—said, “Is there a problem?”

That jump-started Izuku’s brain. “No. N-no problem,” he said, not taking his eyes off of Stain. He noted the quirk canceller locked around the man’s wrist, but couldn’t convince himself to relax. He nodded a hesitant greeting to Stain. What was he supposed to say in this scenario? “Um…th-thank you for saving m-me from that Nomu.” Maybe he should have just not said anything.

Stain narrowed his eyes, taking in the scars that had either been hidden or not existed in their fight and the cast and sling wrapping his left arm. “Don’t thank me for doing the job heroes should have.” After another tense few seconds, the man glanced from Izuku to someone standing behind the student. “Eraserhead.”

When had Aizawa gotten so close to Izuku? Oh, and he was glaring at Stain. “Stain.”

“You should take better care of your students.”

Aizawa bristled, and Izuku cleared his throat to break their standoff. “H-he saved my life at the s-summer camp.” He’d heard the story from Ashido and Kaminari one night at the dorm.

Stain met his eyes for a moment before seeming to accept it. He grunted and turned to disappear into the cell.

Izuku moved to follow the guard again, not quite turning his back to where he’d last seen Stain until they rounded the next corner. His hands shook just a tiny amount, and his nerves buzzed under his skin, even after they were safely enclosed in another elevator, this one with buttons limited to only B7-B10. It was more solid than the first elevator and requiring biometric scans of all occupants before it engaged.

Two more floors put them on Basement level nine, part of the Isolation Block. The difference was immediate. The halls here were enclosed with no open “yard.” Both sides of the hall were lined with heavily reinforced cells. Some were solid walls of concrete; some had bulletproofed glass observation windows; all were sealed shut with no identifiers aside from inmate number and a few warnings emblazoned in bright, glowing red beside their doors.

Izuku glanced in a few as they walked past, not recognizing anyone offhand. Until a blur of sickly green caught his eye. He stumbled and tried not to gag as he found himself standing face to face with the Sludge Villain, only a few centimeters of glass separating them. One of the villain’s eyes was dimpled with scar tissue and clouded. Izuku’s heart pounded in his ears, and he couldn’t make out whatever the villain said, but the cruel smile and laugh that made the man’s whole gelatinous form wobble gave him a few ideas.

A hand landing on Izuku’s shoulder made him flinch and reach up to flip whoever was attacking—Izuku stopped just shy of grabbing Aizawa’s wrist. Izuku tried to get his breathing under control—reminding himself that he could breathe—and didn’t resist when his teacher steered him away from the glass and grinning villain.

When Izuku came back to himself, he was in a room with one-way glass and several chairs. A guard was seated at a computer console by the glass, monitoring something. Aizawa and their escort were here too, as were Gran Torino and Tsukauchi. Those last two looked concerned. He couldn’t see Aizawa without dislodging the pro’s hand from his shoulder to turn around. Izuku didn’t bother moving.

He had his breathing mostly back to normal, but he felt a bit dizzy and nauseated by the remembered scent and taste of sewage. He tried for a reassuring grin. “H-h-hi, G-Gran Torino, Ts-sukauchi.” Izuku stopped there, hating how his voice betrayed him.

“Midoriya?” Tsukauchi turned his name into a question.

The hand on Izuku’s shoulder squeezed, and Izuku swallowed and shook his head, making his vision blur and tilt more than it should. It wasn’t worth it to try talking again just yet.

Aizawa gently pushed him down into a chair before leaving him to whisper something to the detective and senior hero. The stink eye Gran shot their escort could have made All Might sweat. The guard didn’t so much as twitch in his body armor and face mask.

Izuku tuned them out and stared down at his hands. He clenched and unclenched them, wondering when his fingertips had gone numb. A few seconds or minutes later, Aizawa returned and crouched in front of him. “You’re doing a good job with square breathing, Problem Child. Inui show you how to do that?”

Izuku nodded and tested his voice, “I-I’m okay, Zawa.”

Aizawa stared into his eyes a little longer before nodding. “Take another five minutes. They’re still getting set up anyway.” That irritated grumble was back in Aizawa’s voice, the one normally reserved for students pushing their luck and tempting a detention.

That struck Izuku as odd. Why be annoyed at the Tartarus guards? Was it the Sludge Villain? The waiting? The way Aizawa had talked about Tartarus on the way over, the place was supposed to be highly efficient. But they had to wait now? It was almost like they knew Izuku wasn’t going to be in shape to start right away when he arrived…

Oh.

And just like that, Izuku’s lingering anxiety and fear melted under a blast of anger. He wondered if that run-in with Stain was engineered too. Well, two could play the passive-aggressive game.

His hands stopped shaking by the time the guard handed him a list of questions to ask and waved him toward the hallway next to the one-way glass. Izuku fast-walked down the short corridor to stand before a blast door. After a few seconds, a light next to the door flashed green, and the doors slid back into the walls. Izuku stepped through and exhaled slowly as the doors clanged shut behind him. There was a single chair bolted to the floor for him, then a wall of bulletproofed glass with a few holes drilled through it to allow voices to carry from one side to the other. On the far side of that glass was Kurogiri trussed up in a straight jacket and tied to a rolling chair. The sluggish way the mist man’s eyes tracked Izuku made his heart ache. They had him drugged.

Izuku swallowed back emotion he couldn’t afford to show here. The prison staff were watching him as much as Kurogiri, of that he had no doubt. Izuku shot his almost-uncle a sad grin as he sat down. “H-hi, Kurogiri.”

“Izuku? What are you doing here?” the mist man asked, eyes trailing over Izuku to catch on his cast.

Izuku shrugged. “C-certain people decided to m-make a quirkless 16-year-old do their job f-for them.” Izuku could practically feel the glares from the observation room. “But before that, h-how are you?”

Kurogiri blinked lazily at him. “As you see me. You?”

“I-I’m okay, all things considered. Cast s-should come off next w-week after the school’s Culture Festival. Oh, and I-I finished that first aid c-certification you signed me up for.”

The intercom in the corner of the room crackled to life as an annoyed guard said, “The questions, Midoriya.”

Izuku turned toward the glass and glared right where he knew the guard at the computer was sitting. The console had been just on the inmate’s side of the divider. Confident he’d at least unnerved the rude guard, Izuku made a show of shaking out the piece of paper the other guard had given him. “Oh, for the l-love of—” Izuku muttered before cutting himself off. He swore in the safety of his mind after that. At least, he hoped it was safe. There was a decent chance Tartarus employed at least one telepath. Right, he should get on with things before he thought something he shouldn’t. Izuku met Kurogiri’s yellow gaze again and deadpanned, “Even though y-you’re not going to tell, I’m s-supposed to ask where Tomura’s hiding.”

Kurogiri just stared at him.

Izuku grinned at him and snorted. “Yeah, thought s-so. Alright, next question…” Izuku made a game of asking the warden’s questions in the oddest ways he could come up with. He even got Kurogiri to chuckle once by imitating Tomura’s voice for one.

The handful of questions on the page that might have conceivably been for the psych evaluation he saved for last. They were mostly geared toward finding out if Kurogiri had been a League participant of his own free will or if Sensei had possibly used coercion or a mind control quirk. Izuku was admittedly curious about those questions—despite the uncomfortable something that coiled in his gut at the thought of Sensei manipulating Kurogiri like that—and laid off the sarcasm when he got to them. “How did y-you end up working for the League?”

Kurogiri picked up on the shift in Izuku’s tone and straightened slightly in his chair. He seemed to consider something for a moment before answering, “I was Tomura’s primary caregiver for much of his life. When Tomura built the League it made sense for me to continue to assist him.”

For the first time since starting through the ordered list, Izuku asked a question of his own, “H-how did Sensei recruit y-you to take care of Tomura?”

This question was met with silence.

Dread settled over Izuku’s shoulders. He cleared his throat and pressed on, “Did you operate within the League by your own volition, or were you coerced, blackmailed, or otherwise forced to work with them?”

It was so simple to say no, even if it was a lie. The fact Kurogiri remained silent once again didn’t sit well with Izuku. Maybe someone used a truth quirk on him before this, and he was remaining silent to avoid saying something implicating? That made sense. Izuku really hoped that was the case, but the sinking feeling started coiling around his chest too.

Kurogiri didn’t answer any questions after that.

“Time’s up, Midoriya.”

Izuku crumpled up the paper. Time, his foot. He was done with their questions. So, they were done with him. He stood and gave Kurogiri as encouraging of a smile as he could muster. “I’m sorry I can’t stay longer. I’ll come back to visit if they let me.”

Kurogiri finally gave him one of his narrow-eyed smiles. “I would enjoy that, Izuku. Take care.”

“Goodbye…” Izuku waved one last time as the blast doors closed on the visitation room.

Heart heavier than he expected, Izuku walked back to the observation room and threw the crumpled questionnaire into the trashcan with a little more force than strictly necessary. Gran Torino and Tsukauchi were too busy talking with the computer guy to glance up at Izuku’s entrance, and Izuku felt a flicker of something like betrayal, like realizing he’d been used all over again. They were only here for answers to their questions. At least those two hadn’t been like family like Tomura and Sensei. But, their not being family gave him far less incentive to forgive or continue trusting them. Izuku decided he might need to reevaluate his opinion of them later.

Aizawa nodded to him, and their party started the trek back to the elevator. Izuku didn’t say a word as Aizawa matched his stride to walk between Izuku and the cell they now knew held Sludge. This pass, Izuku didn’t look at the glass, focusing on Aizawa and the sense of safety that followed him. Izuku also paid attention to the prisoner numbers beside each door. His anger grew and curdled when he noted without surprise that Sludge’s number was the only one out of numerical order in the whole hallway. Izuku breathed a silent sigh—of relief or resignation he wasn’t sure—as the elevator doors sealed them off from the Isolation Block.

All was fine until the guard moved to press the button for B7. Before he could touch the panel, the button for B10 lit up instead. The guard stiffened as the elevator started going down rather than up. He frantically spoke into his comm, “Was that redirect on your end?”

“Negative. The elevator controls are not responding.”

Izuku stared at the lit button for the lowest level in Tartarus, the place they kept the most dangerous, S-class villains…like All for One. Izuku wasn’t sure if he felt excited or anxious at the prospect of seeing Sensei again. Or maybe he felt terrified Sensei could do something like this while held in the highest security prison in Japan. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about everything Sensei had done. He’d long since forgiven him for keeping him in the dark on who he really was, but reconciling the Sensei he knew with the Boogieman of Japan who had killed thousands over his two centuries of life? Why do the things he did? What was the point?

Izuku shook his head. Regardless of how he felt, he was confident of one thing. Sensei wasn’t going to hurt him. Probably not Aizawa either, considering Izuku owed the teacher his life. (He’d have to make sure Sensei knew that if it came down to it.) The guard though…

Izuku leaned back against the elevator wall and allowed himself to feel satisfaction at the guard’s freak out as they descended the longest distance between floors yet.

Chapter Text

All for One frowned when he realized where exactly Izuku and his teacher—that hero with the Erasure quirk that got away so long ago—were heading. He could see them with Search, and with the application of another mental quirk, he could see their position in relation to all he knew firsthand of Japan’s geography.

The machine guns barely twitched at the second quirk’s activation. Really, one would think Tartarus could afford better cybersecurity. He’d turned his quirk monitoring equipment’s sensitivity down to the point he had free reign to use his quirks so long as they were invisible to the incompetent guards.

But the utter ineptitude of Tartarus’s staff was a thought for a more boring time. This? This was not shaping up to be a boring time. Izuku was coming here, to Tartarus. All for One had no way of checking if there were others with the little hero and his teacher, not at such range, but the lack of fresh injuries on both parties’ part made him lean toward the Commission not finally deciding to be done with the boy. So, why let him come here?

Japan’s oldest villain didn’t have to wait long for his answer. There was an abnormal amount of activity in the Isolation Block above him. He’d tagged all of the maximum-security guards for Search within the first week, and several of them were now shuffling between a handful of cells. Sadly, he did not have any of the inmates on that floor tagged aside from Kurogiri and Moonfish.

Muscular had been as well, but that fool had not lived past the moment All for One was within range to use one of his more insidious quirks. He saved Clotting Factor for people that proved particularly irksome, and after disobeying orders and putting Izuku halfway through death’s door, Muscular more than qualified. Clotting Factor required intimate knowledge of the target’s physiology, but with Search, that was a non-issue. The best part? The guards all thought he’d simply had an aneurysm.

All for One smiled at the memory, recalling the play-by-play Search had given him of Muscular’s body slowly shutting down as Izuku and Eraserhead made their way through the prison. There was a brief holdup on the transfer from the main elevator to the max security one, but Search only told him that Izuku was far more nervous after whatever had occurred. Then they were on the floor above him, and Izuku spontaneously flew into a panic attack. The guard with them radiated smugness. All for One frowned and reached out with Hacker’s Mind. He’d gotten quite a bit of practice with the relic while held here, and the experience allowed him to quickly trace and visualize the feed for the appropriate security camera.

They were walking away from the spot now, but whatever had triggered Izuku had been in one of the windowed cells. He mentally eyed the corridor for a moment. Regardless of what triggered the boy, All for One had no doubt the guards and warden were to blame for arranging it. If they weren’t already on his kill list for his eventual encore, he would add them now.

All for One reluctantly dropped all his mental quirks save Search. Keeping a dozen or more active at a time used to not phase him, but after the damage All Might did in their first fight, he’d had difficulties managing even three. Too many neural pathways were now severed or scarred to achieve the same degree of multitasking he’d once prided himself on. It was just one more thing that blonde oaf had taken from him.

An uncommon spike in Izuku’s vitals that indicated anger rather than panic pulled All for One from his thoughts. A quick assessment failed to reveal the object of Izuku’s wrath, but All for One had a suspicion it was the guard who’d escorted him down.

Speaking of guards…Ah, that was why they had the boy here. There were guards in Kurogiri’s cell now, dosing the man with yet another round of whatever kept him too scattered and vague to utilize his quirk. Izuku was visiting Kurogiri. How did he manage to get the warden to approve that?

Hm. No matter. Izuku was here and only a few hundred meters away. All for One wasn’t about to let this opportunity go to waste. Izuku had already come this far, after all. And the anger that returned to Izuku as he left the visitation room and grew as his group walked down the hall only made All for One more eager to thumb his nonexistent nose at the warden.

One hijacking of an elevator’s operating system later, and Izuku was steadily approaching the blast door to All for One’s own visitation room. He watched through the cameras in amusement as Izuku stopped and stared up at the nearest lens. “You know he’s not l-letting us leave until he t-talks to me, right?”

“Young Midoriya is correct,” All for One said to the microphones and cameras in his cell, knowing there were always guards listening. “I have all the time in the world, but I’m sure you all would like to get on with your day, hm? I won’t even request any special arrangements. Simply allow him to speak with me as long as you did All Might.”

After a few minutes, the blast doors opened for Izuku, and an unlucky guard came to retrieve All for One. The short trip to the visitation room allowed him to swap out Hacker’s Mind for the combination of quirks he used to “see.” Once his escort delivered him and retreated, All for One tilted his head ever so slightly in greeting and grinned. “Izuku, it’s been too long. There were no lingering effects from your recovery after the summer camp, I hope.”

Izuku returned the bow from his seat. “It’s good to s-see you again, Sensei. I only had a headache that l-lasted a few hours after waking. The recovery f-from the recent events has been much more…complicated, though I-I should be out of my cast next week.”

All for One nodded. Search told him as much. The disastrous break was healing well, though All for One had to wonder if the boy was aware of the nerve damage there yet. He also doubted the boy realized just how lucky he was to come out of that experience alive with all faculties intact. Watching from afar as something rapidly ate away at Izuku’s quirk and all the neural tissue it was attached to had been…terrifying wasn’t quite the right word. Horrifying, certainly, and a little fascinating, but All for One was more than content to never witness such an effect again.

“Good, good. And how is Hisashi doing?”

Izuku relaxed a little in his chair. “He was doing w-well when I talked to him yesterday. Still t-teaching and occasionally doing…h-hero work, just to keep u-up to date on protocol in case he’s ever called in.” After the villain nodded encouragingly, refusing to show any annoyance at Hisashi’s half bumbling, half being dragged into heroics, Izuku smiled widely. “The name I s-suggested stuck.”

“Oh?”

Izuku snickered. “Mixtape.”

All for One was a bit flummoxed at this. There was surely some joke implicit in the name, but it was beyond him. Probably some younger generation slang. He shrugged. “I’m sure Tomura would find it hilarious.”

Izuku inhaled sharply. “Oh my god, I-I haven’t told Tomura! I’ll have t-to,” Izuku faltered for a moment, though it was hard to pick up on due to his stutter. His uptick in heart rate and sideways glance at the one-way glass were just enough to clue Sensei in. Izuku and Tomura were still in contact. He very carefully didn’t smile as Izuku continued, “Tell him next time I-I see him. He’ll probably laugh s-so hard he’ll fall over.”

“Record it and tease your father with it for me?”

“Of course.”

As Izuku’s chuckles died down, his expression shifted to something more somber. “S-sensei, can I ask you something?”

“Anything, Izuku.” And he meant it. The boy deserved that much after seemingly forgiving him, something All for One’s own brother never cared to consider. If the information was truly sensitive, he could always knock out power in the observation room for a few seconds.

“Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why do all…this? I u-understand the early days, when having a quirk was worse than being q-quirkless is now. But then q-quirks were accepted, and you kept going. W-why? Did your goal change?”

Ah, leave it to Izuku to get to the root of things. All for One debated how to answer, eventually deciding it would be more gratifying to allow the warden and the others listening in to hear his answer than to block them. It was also less of a headache for him. “It started to right terrible injustice. At the dawn of quirks, Japan converted the old camps used to house prisoners of pre-quirk wars to contain those with quirks ‘for their safety.’ They opened about the time I entered high school. Your imagination is good enough to know how many suffered there, how many families were separated. If someone was even suspected of having a quirk, had any outward signs that they were different, off they went. My parents had black hair; my brother and I were born with white.”

Izuku inhaled sharply, knowing exactly what was implied.

“Most there didn’t know the first thing about controlling their power or even what their power was. Many emitters in the early days were subtle things like slightly sharper hearing or being able to toss an object into a trash can with unerring accuracy. They compounded and grew in power over the generations. Hyper-Processing was second gen. That family was in the same camp as my brother and I,” He added, suddenly nostalgic. “The parents were good enough at hiding the signs the government was watching for, but a four-year-old who’d just discovered they could temporarily speed up to win any game of tag? He gave himself and the young couple away within a week of his quirk coming in.”

“If I wasn’t in such a quirk-saturated environment, I may never have discovered mine. Much like you, I also had a knack for analyzing quirks and their uses. In secret, a group of us trained and planned a breakout. Those that wanted to shed their quirks to better hide afterward asked for my help. My brother saw no problem with it at the time, though sometimes I wonder if he resented quirks themselves more than the people who locked us up for having them.” All for One shook his head. “I digress. Those of us that made it out scattered and hid where we could. My brother and I dyed our hair, abandoned our family name for Shigaraki, and tried to live. My brother readjusted to normal life better than I did. I still wanted to help. There were other camps, and people were being hunted. So, I established the beginnings of an underground network with those I knew from our camp.”

“Fast forward a few decades, and the aftermath of the Quirk Wars finally had Japan teetering on the cusp of acceptance. Then America’s hero program took off,” All for One said, no small amount of bitterness and disdain dripping from the words. “Japan embraced it like a savior, established the HPSC, and rebranded a handful of those who used their quirks for justice as heroes and the rest of us automatically as villains. The camps were closed, but only the handful of the Commission’s cherry-picked ‘heroic’ quirked people could legally use their abilities. The rest of us were still supposed to hide and live like everyone else. Many of us cried foul, and many were imprisoned. We’d exchanged one dictator for another, and pervasive persecution for something just as vile but more marketable and palatable to the masses.”

“My brother was content with this progress, but I wasn’t. He didn’t understand what it was to have a quirk, couldn’t see how nothing had really changed. You’ve already heard how I tried to enlighten him?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Yes, well, things went downhill from there. I admit in retrospect I made several errors in trying to get my point across.”

“Most people don’t t-take kindly to being locked up or…y-you know,” Izuku said, side-eyeing the one-way glass again.

All for One hummed his agreement. “At some point, it was just easier to stop caring what my brother and the powers that be thought, to stop arguing that I wasn’t the bad guy and that things needed to change. I decided that if the only way to affect change was to tear their dynasty down around their unhearing ears, so be it. They thought me a villain; I would show them what real villainy looked like.”

Izuku nodded absently, eyes unfocused. “Trying to prove people w-wrong does become exhausting after a while.”

All for One chuckled. “Yes, but enough of me prattling on about the ancient past. What of your present? You seemed a bit worked up when I arrived.”

Izuku went still for a second and blinked wide eyes at him. The intercom crackled to life as a nervous guard warned, “No speaking about current events. We’re trying to limit his knowledge of what’s happening in the outside world.”

Izuku and All for One glanced at the one-way glass together this time, both annoyed. Then Izuku cleared his throat. “I 'membered s-something from w-when I’d just moved back to Japan. N-nothing to w-worry about, Sensei.”

The sudden increase in stutters said otherwise. All for One found himself wishing he still had eyebrows to raise. No matter. Izuku had given him enough of a hint. Right after Izuku’d moved back to Japan he’d had an unfortunate run-in with a third-rate villain. Due to the properties of the individual’s quirk and his predilection for murder, he’d been quickly transferred to Tartarus where he could be properly contained, too quickly for All for One to intercept at the time. The centuries old villain mentally pulled up the file he’d read on Sludge and activated Search. A wicked smile split his face when lo and behold, Sludge was in one of the cells in the Isolation Block.

Izuku stiffened at the change in his expression, radiating suspicion but not fear. All for One coughed and schooled his expression into something more benign. Handling that particular problem could wait until Izuku was safely away. All for One was rather curious how Clotting Factor would work on a full-body semi-solid mutation like that.

Desiring to steer the conversation away from his future murders, All for One decided to return the favor and offer Izuku his own chance to contemplate vengeance for a harmed loved one. “Speaking of remembering things, I meant to tell you and your father some information I stumbled upon earlier in the year, but sadly, it slipped my mind until I could no longer contact you.” All for One shook his head exaggeratedly. “My quirks keep me from aging physically, but sometimes I wonder if my mind still does. Then again, taking two United States of Smash to the head can’t have helped my memory.”

Izuku did not snort or laugh, but he did relax somewhat. “What is it, Sensei?”

All for One knew telling Izuku this was a risk, but it was now or never. He had his doubts the warden would allow the boy to return for any further visits. He let his vision quirks drop and utilized Hacker’s Mind to scramble the audio and video feed of the visitation room for the few seconds he needed. “The cold case you were looking into? The culprit was Toxic Chainsaw. And, no, I had nothing to do with it.”

Toxic Chainsaw was responsible for dozens of deaths across Japan several years ago, including one Midoriya Inko. After All Might got set on his trail he’d gone to ground and refused to resurface. All for One had no questions regarding Izuku’s capability to track the villain down. No, the real question and test was what Young Midoriya would do once he found the villain who killed his mother.

“W-what?”

All for One swapped his quirks back out to be able to see the conflict on the young man’s face. Emotions rose and receded too swiftly to identify, and the readings from Search were just as muddled. All for One supposed that was fair. He had blindsided the boy. “I just thought you deserved to know. Take your time to process everything. Consider it a late addition to your birthday present.”

Izuku let out a chuckle that sounded a touch hysterical, and he stared off into the space over All for One’s left shoulder. “Yeah, sure. Why not?” He scrubbed his good hand over his face and shook his head as if to dislodge an unwanted thought from it.

“What did he say, Midoriya?” The ever-obtrusive guard demanded over the re-established intercom.

Izuku startled before clearing his throat and looked at All for One again. “He was asking about the damage to my quirk and if I wanted another,” he lied. A very believable lie too. All for One was proud.

Izuku faked a sheepish smile and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got enough medical problems as is without adding another shock to my system. I didn’t think I’d have this many doctors in my first year of high school. So many specialists and I’m going to have to find a new primary doctor to boot.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, my old one up and vanished recently. And yes, I’ve got Recovery Girl at UA now. She’s great; don’t get me wrong. Just wish I could remember the name of whatever medication my old doctor was giving me for my immune treatments in case I ever need them again…” Izuku raised an eyebrow at him.

Oh. Izuku had figured out Daruma’s involvement in things. Of course, he was concerned. All for One hummed. “It has been over a century since I got my M.D.” He ignored Izuku’s sputtering and reveled in the confusion that swept the observation room. What? Ruling the underworld got boring after a while, and he needed to better understand why some people reacted so poorly to introduced quirks. Two birds, one stone. “But if I recall correctly, most IV immune-boosting treatments activate cells in a patient’s bone marrow to encourage or speed up production of red and white cells.”

“Hm. That would explain the achiness the days after.” Something in the boy’s posture told All for One he wasn’t satisfied with the answer, but there really wasn’t a way for him to ask more directly with their present company, at least not without All for One using Hacker’s Mind again.

All for One contemplated doing just that but discarded the idea a moment later. The slow throb in his skull was a clear warning to lay off switching mental quirks for the next while. Holding the same one or two active constantly caused little issue, but having too many active at once or forcing his damaged physiology to reshape and adapt to different quirks repeatedly in quick succession was far from viable these days.

So, he improvised. “Given how well your training progressed after your treatments compared to your training before UA, I suspect the problem was brewing for a while before it came to a head with your repeat injuries and recoveries.”

Izuku blinked, eyes widening ever so slightly. Good, the boy got at least part of what he implied. The treatments were meant to help, after all. If they also happened to make Izuku’s physiology more adaptable to say, a second quirk, that was a fringe benefit. “Huh. Good thing h-he caught it before I graduated then.”

“Yes, definitely something you wouldn’t want impeding you in the field.”

“Yeah,” Izuku said, giving a self-deprecating laugh. “Like I need anything else going wrong. At least I was already planning to go underground. Making the change from daylight heroics now would suck.”

All for One nodded. “Be sure to include some equipment that isn’t based in electronics though. That was a weakness last time Tomura told me about your hero costume. There are several villains with EMP and disruption quirks, after all.”

Izuku’s eyes lit up. “Really? I’d only heard about the one at the USJ. But I’m pretty s-sure my claws would still work,” he continued, tapping his chin. “They’re motion t-triggered, but I’ll check with Mei to see if they’re s-strictly mechanical and thus safe. My knives would be fine too, but I haven’t gotten as much practice w-with those as I’d like. My jo staff would be s-stuck in its retracted form if they got the drop on me—which could be an issue. Though if I added a second one and trained with them as es-scrima sticks in their compressed form, maybe that would balance out? I wonder if there’s a weight-effective way to shield my helmet. As for takedown…”

All for One grinned as he listened to Izuku excitedly work around one of the more troublesome quirk types in the modern era. Ah, he had missed these talks. The boy had always been refreshingly intelligent, and his strategies for countering and combatting quirks had only improved with his time at UA. Those strategies now included not only directly physical and environmental means, but more mechanical, cyber, and chemical options that he’d picked up from his Support courses. One thing Izuku had kept throughout was never relying too heavily on quirks when solving a problem. He was more than capable of integrating whatever quirks were on scene in a real scenario, but he tended to pre-plan countermeasures under the assumption that he was alone. A holdover from his quirkless (and friendless) days, All for One suspected. A wise choice in his opinion. Allies were fine while they lasted, but no one was around and watchful 24/7.

All for One occasionally posed a new scenario or pointed out an oversight in Izuku’s analysis but largely sat back and watched the boy’s brain work. If he noted a slight discrepancy in the time it took Izuku to create plans now compared to before first receiving Hyper-Processing, he didn’t say anything. He was all too familiar with brain injuries and recoveries therefrom.

Any setbacks didn’t impact All for One’s opinion. The boy’s mind was still sharp as obsidian, and for all he may have bent he’d never broken. Along with his skill for analysis those traits made for a delightfully dangerous combination. All for One idly listened to Izuku’s mutter storm, reflecting on how he’d definitely made the right choice of person for his Plan B.

Chapter Text

“Eri, did you braid y-your hair yourself?” Izuku asked, crouching to accept a hug. The girl had a braid starting at the back of her head and twisting around to hang over her right shoulder. It was a little lumpy, and there’s one place Izuku could see she missed a step, but it’s far better than he could achieve.

“Zawa started it for me,” Eri said, tugging on the end of her braid where a hair tie with a cat face held it secure.

Izuku didn’t even try to hide his smile at Eri picking up his nickname for Aizawa. “Wow, that’s a r-really good braid, Eri. You’re a fast learner.”

“You two ready to go?” Aizawa asked as he entered his apartment’s living room, keys in hand.

“Yeah!” Eri yelled. Well, it was said in a normal volume, but for Eri it was yelling.

Izuku shot an apologetic look at Eri. “Actually, Zawa, I w-wanted to ask if I could exercise my new a-ability to leave campus. Aoyama messaged me a few minutes ago that one of the s-stage ropes is frayed, and they don’t have the right s-size ‘placement in storage.”

Since Kurogiri was out of play, and the last known sighting of a League member was halfway across the country, UA had tentatively lifted Izuku’s requirement for a hero escort anytime he left campus. He hadn’t gotten to use that freedom yet due to dress rehearsals, his History final, a Hero Ethics test, and finishing an analysis for Nighteye.

Technically, today was an Electrical Engineering test, but with him being involved in 1-A’s Culture Festival event, Maijima-sensei was allowing Mei to present both of their projects for the judges. Izuku’s water-proofed tracker discs and their tiny long-life batteries weren’t anything too fancy, but he was quite proud of them. Plus, they were the only recent invention of his that didn’t have a ton of input from Mei. And Mei’s power suit was one of a handful of her inventions that he hadn’t had any hand or suggestion in. When the pair realized just how much they’d been working jointly, they’d laughed. This, of course, slightly panicked Maijima, which just made them laugh more.

Izuku held back another laugh at the deadpan look Aizawa shot him. “Problem Child, if I hear a single word of some villain attack happening while you’re off-campus, you’re grounded for the rest of the semester.” Aizawa sighed and rubbed one of his temples. “Where’s your permission slip?”

Izuku handed said form over for Aizawa to sign. Once the teacher handed it back, Izuku was shooed toward the door. “Don’t be late for 1-A’s performance either. Eri’s looking forward to the—”

“Pretty light show!” Eri finished, eyes sparkling.

Izuku and Aizawa stared wide-eyed at each other for a moment. Eri hadn’t been bold enough to interrupt someone before, let alone an adult. Izuku gave the little girl a wobbly smile before sprinting away, ignoring Aizawa’s definitely-not-a-smile and token warning about running in the halls. Izuku had a rope to buy. One quick and easy outing coming up.

The outing was neither quick nor easy. The first store he stopped at was out of the rope size he needed and referred him to another store clear on the other side of UA. Rather than circle the entire campus, he cut through, heading for a back gate Morgana had shown him one of the few times he’d taken a break from studying. The crow had practically talked his ear off the first time he’d brought her his laptop. Apparently, she could understand any language, human or otherwise, but couldn’t speak them. Nezu had taught her how to read and type though.

Morgana landed on his right shoulder halfway through the woods at the back of campus and cawed conversationally at him as he walked. He in turn told her what he was up to and about the events and booths he already knew were going to be at this year’s Festival. She’d already told him in a previous conversation that the festivals were some of the only times she could safely loiter outside the Restricted Zone. With all the human traffic on those days other crows hung around as scavengers, providing her with plenty of cover.

Izuku checked his phone when it pinged, seeing a message from Mirio. After scouting out the entire Festival his senpai hadn’t found a single booth selling candied apples for Eri. Tamaki and Nejiri were going to sneakily arrange for the making of some, but they needed a candy thermometer and either lollipop sticks or wooden skewers to serve them on. Izuku texted back that he was pretty sure Sato had some they could use, then forwarded the request and Nejiri’s number to Sato.

As he put his phone away, he turned his attention to Morgana who’d been reading his messages over his shoulder. “Speaking of treats, does Yamamizu like nuts?” After his second visit to the woods around the Restricted Zone he’d learned the name of the reticent sika deer from Morgana. He also learned Morgana was practically an addict when it came to almonds and peanuts. She’d unrepentantly stolen half of his trail mix that day.

Morgana eagerly bobbed up and down, cawing. Whether she was being truthful or simply intended to steal the deer’s portion of the nuts, Izuku wasn’t certain, but he already knew from a quick internet search that nuts shouldn’t be harmful for either of the quirked animals so long as they were unsalted and unseasoned. So, he decided to stop by the corner store on the way back from the hardware store to pick up a treat for his non-human friends.

Izuku reached one hand up, pausing to let Morgana nibble on his finger before lightly stroking her feathers. “Alright, Morgana. I have to go. I’ll find you and Yamamizu after the Festival, okay?”

Morgana ruffled her feathers and shook, probably disgruntled that she had to wait so long for the promised nuts. But she took off without audible complaint.

Izuku walked through the back gate, making sure it latched and locked behind him before walking the rest of the way out of the woods. On paper, this whole stretch belonged to UA still, but the school didn’t want to advertise the existence of a back entrance. So, that gate was set far enough back to be invisible from the road. There was no clearly defined path to it, but Morgana had pointed out on a previous visit that a series of red pines marked the way. After knowing that, it was pretty easy to find the trail to and from the road.

The hardware store was only two blocks from campus, and Izuku set off at a brisk pace. He was going to be cutting it close, but at least he didn’t have to circle campus from the outside. Halfway there, Izuku’s phone went off again, this time with a call. He picked up after seeing his dad’s caller id. “Hey, Dad. Y-you almost here?”

“Ah, about that, Izuku…” Izuku’s heart sank. “Kamui Woods and I got caught up with a villain attack at the train station. We’re waiting to give our statements now and hand off the villains, but the rails are pretty messed up. I don’t think we’ll be able to make it in time for your show.”

“Oh.” Izuku slid one hand in his jacket pocket, where the two guest passes suddenly weighed heavily. “Don’t w-worry about it. Y-you’re both okay, r-right?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Only a couple scrapes. No civilians hurt either, though a few kids got separated from their parents in the crush. Still trying to get that sorted.”

Izuku hummed. “Good luck, Dad.”

“I really am sorry about this, kiddo. I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

There was nothing to really make up. Hero stuff happened. Though now he’d bothered Aizawa for his guest passes for nothing. Izuku sighed as he put his phone away and stepped into the hardware store. The really nice clerk at the first store had called ahead to have the correct rope ready to go for him. So, he made it in and out in under five minutes.

As he sulked his way back toward UA he almost ran into a couple coming out of a house tucked between storefronts. “Oh, s-sorry. I w-wasn’t watching where I w-was going.” Izuku gave a quick bow in apology.

“And just when I was enjoying the aftertaste of Golden Tips.” The tall man sighed. “Let’s be on our way, Honey.”

“Golden Tips?” Izuku blinked, trying to remember where he’d heard that name before. He glanced over at the house and saw a small sign out front marking the place as a tea shop. “Oh! That’s the brand Yaoyorozu likes.”

“You have a friend with refined taste, young man,” the man said, turning back to face Izuku.

Now that Izuku wasn’t bowing, he got a good look at the man in a trench coat, sunglasses, medical mask, and wide-brimmed hat. Izuku’s eyes narrowed. That voice, plus an obvious disguise… Izuku’s eyes caught on the man’s cane, then the collar and purple scarf peeking from under the trench coat. He carefully looked at the lady with the man out of the corner of his eye. She was disguised too but hadn’t tucked away her distinctive red hair.

“Oh hey, y-you’re Gentle! I’ve w-watched all your videos.” And a few from shady online forums taken by eye-witnesses, which is how he recognized La Brava. Never had he been so glad Sensei pushed him to start analyzing villains. He might not have recognized these two without that research.

Gentle leaned back slightly, seemingly flustered both by being recognized and by Izuku’s apparent enthusiasm.

“In y-your last video, you mentioned a big job c-coming up. It’s only fitting that y-you drink Golden Tips before such an event.” Izuku let his jovial tone fall to something more serious. “And based on the t-timing and location…let me guess, you’re going to c-crash UA’s Culture Festival.” Why else go to such a small, out-of-the-way tea shop than to have a good angle for sneaking onto campus?

The police and Commission had already put restrictions on the event, and if there was any alarm or hint of villain activity, the whole thing was going to be shut down. All the students had poured their hearts into their events and displays, and a lot of the Support courses relied on this event for attracting offers from future employers. Eri had really been looking forward to it too.

And if these two cut directly through the back of campus to reach the Festival grounds, they’d pass right through the Restricted Zone.

Izuku chewed on his lip as he weighed his options. He wasn’t in any shape to fight nor did he have the equipment to do so in a meaningful way. If he called it in, the Culture Festival was off. There was nothing he could do to physically stop these two…but he might be able to convince them that invading UA wasn’t worth the price.

While Izuku calculated odds, Gentle regathered himself and made a dramatic flourish. “Whatever do you mean, young man?” That was how he hid most of his quirk use. Standard magician tactic.

Izuku raised an eyebrow and deadpanned, “You don’t need to use your q-quirk, Gentle. Does it look like I-I intend to pick a fight right now?” Izuku made a flourish of his own, pointing out his still very broken and casted arm.

Gentle looked just a touch sheepish at the reminder. “Yes, well, one can’t be too careful.”

“I don’t s-suppose there’s anything I can say to convince you not to go forward with your plan?” Izuku asked. When Gentle frowned at him, Izuku continued with an edge of steel in his voice, “Thought s-so. I’ll make y-you a promise and a proposal instead. If you follow through w-with your plan, I will not s-stop you, but I will send my Nezu-approved analysis of you and your q-quirk to every hero agency in Honshu.”

Gentle laughed, calling his bluff as he removed his sunglasses. “You can’t be older than a first year, boy. Whatever you think you know, it certainly isn’t a threat to me.”

“Gentle C-Criminal, quirk: Elasticity. Anything non-living you touch, s-solid or gas (speculation as to whether your quirk functions on liquids or living matter is inconclusive at this point), gains elastic properties. Effects run on a timer before the affected object r-returns to normal. You’re particularly fond of using it to boost your own mobility for dodging and performing es-scapes as well as turning your opponents’ attacks back on them. Weaknesses: love of theatrics, potentially monologuing, a-and…La Brava.” Izuku let his eyes slide from the stunned villain to the equally stunned lady. He normally would have added in the man’s lack of thinking before committing to his actions as a weakness, but he had a feeling doing so would hurt his current goal.

“How do you know about La Brava?” Gentle demanded, stepping squarely in front of her to block Izuku’s view. It was true that the pair had been careful to keep La Brava’s identity out of Gentle’s videos, but they hadn’t been careful enough.

“You perform m-many of your villainous ‘jobs’ in public, Gentle. Everyone has a-a phone these days. Some bystanders take videos, a-and while I’m sure La Brava and the police do a good job scrubbing them, there are places they miss, shadowy corners of the internet y-you can only get to by invite or knowing the proper passphrases.” Okay, yeah, describing those forums out loud made them way sketchier than they’d sounded in his head. Was he going to get in trouble with Aizawa and Nezu if they ever found out?

Izuku shook his head. He was getting off track. “But I’d r-really prefer not following through on that. That’s why I also have a-an offer for you. If breaking into UA and disrupting an event would make a splash, how much m-more would sneaking in without being caught at all?” He gave the villain duo a moment to process that before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his guest passes for them to see. “The people I-I originally invited got held up and won’t be able to make it today. I c-can give you their passes. All I ask in r-return is that La Brava hide her hair—that’s how I recognized you two—and that you don’t cause any fuss. Wait until the end of the Festival to post your video. If you do that, I-I’ll forget I ever saw you. If you r-renege, I’ll carry out my threat.”

La Brava motioned for Gentle to get closer, and he crouched beside her while keeping Izuku in sight. Izuku politely turned to the side. They whispered to each other for a minute before Gentle made a displeased face. La Brava said something else that smoothed his features. The man sighed and stood back up to his full height. “Alright, boy, you’ve got a deal, though La Brava wants an invite to those ‘shadowy corners of the internet’ you mentioned.”

Izuku grinned. “That can be arranged.”

“And if one of the heroes makes us, we will escape in true Gentle form, no repercussions.”

Izuku reluctantly nodded. That was fair. “Then y-you should know who to look out for. Hound Dog and Ectoplasm’s clones are patrolling the outlying grounds. Midnight w-will likely be overseeing the beauty pageant and changing rooms, a-and Power Loader will be busy managing the Support presentations most of the day. The rest of the staff should be walking around the Festival proper. Nezu…I’m not sure where he’ll be, but he’ll likely not engage if y-you aren’t causing trouble.” Nezu was the main proponent for not cancelling the Festival outright, after all.

Deal made, Izuku carefully stepped around where he knew the air barrier was situated (they dissipated after a while, but he didn’t know how long) to hand the pair his guest passes. “Oh! And if a small guy with purple balls for hair bothers La Brava at all, y-you have full permission to punt him. No one will blink twice at you for doing so.”

Gentle took the passes and appraised Izuku again. “What’s your name, young man?”

“Midoriya I-Izuku, hero name: Deku, though I might change it,” Izuku admitted, wrinkling his nose at the insult turned hero name. It was a bit too on the nose for him since losing his quirk.

Izuku looked at the time on his phone and inhaled sharply. “Shoot! I’m going t-to be late! Just sh-show those at the front gate, and they sh-should let you through no trouble. I-I gotta go.” Izuku sprinted off without waiting for a reply. He was a bit behind schedule, but if he ran the whole way, he should still have time to make that snack stop and get back before he was really missed.

20 minutes later found him panting backstage while the rest of 1-A prepared for their show. Izuku handed the shopping bag with the rope to Aoyama and Sato before collapsing into a chair near his soundboard and tapped at the laptop Maijima and Yamada-sensei had loaded the lighting console onto. Once he had the starting sequence lined up and ready to go, he checked the time. Almost there.

He slipped on his headset and tapped the mic, hearing it over the speakers. “Five-minute warning,” he announced as he turned down the gymnasium’s lights to their dimmest setting. He muted his mic right after, on the off chance that his muttering habit decided to bite him in the rear.

Izuku focused on his breathing as the minutes counted down. When the digital clock on the gym’s wall turned over to 9:00, he hit enter on the laptop. The overhead lights cut completely, and a moment later the curtain rose and the stage lights flared to colorful life. The music team started up to the roar of the crowd. As Jiro began singing the lyrics, the crowd quieted in rapt attention.

Izuku tapped out the commands for the lights and slightly adjusted one of the settings on the soundboard, glancing out at the crowd occasionally. He caught sight of Eri with Aizawa and Mirio, Present Mic not far from them. Izuku blinked in surprise when he spotted Yagi in the back, smiling. Then his eyes caught on Gentle and La Brava. La Brava was up on Gentle’s shoulders, all the better to film. When he saw the camera pan his way, Izuku paused his typing to smile and wave.

As the song moved to the second verse, Izuku fell into the music’s rhythm and had the attention to spare for the actual lyrics. The past few weeks, he had barely been able to bring himself to listen to them. They felt too optimistic for his raw nerves, his dream career reduced to a shivering thing that ached in his chest with the fear of losing it. Ironically, the bullies and trip to Tartarus had reminded him why he wanted to be a hero. There were people forgotten or outright pushed down by the system by fault of their birth. So many gave up on seeing their circumstances ever change. Those people needed a hero more than most, but they distrusted any hand held out to them. Who better to reach them than someone who lived the same?

“People will judge for no reason at all. Yeah, they might try to say your dream's dumb; don't listen. They may look down on me and count me out. I'm going my own way. They may look down on me and count me out. I'm a hero…”

Izuku let himself enjoy the song now. He didn’t need to listen to the critics. Being a hero wasn’t about strength. It was about saving, and there was more than one way to do that. He remembered stabbing the Sludge Villain in the eye with a stop sign, throwing the breakers at the USJ, protecting Kota from Muscular, handing that homeless, quirkless man in the alley a slip of paper and his lunch money, Eri’s widening eyes when she understood he’d come back for her, the disbelief flashing in Nighteye’s eyes as he was shoved away from certain death, Mei’s manic smile returning after a disappointing day chased it away, Tomura’s hesitant smile when Izuku first hugged him when they were kids and the more confidant smile when he destroyed a mountain of trash in an instant—and only that mountain.

He didn’t need a quirk to be a hero, to give people hope or make them smile. He never did.

As the chorus looped around again, Izuku found himself singing along, and he was very glad he’d muted his mic. There was a reason they had Jiro singing and not him. He shifted the lights to follow the iced strands of Sero’s tape and his friends as they floated and danced through the air near the rafters. When he looked out over the crowd next, he saw smile after smile. Even Gentle didn’t seem able to help himself, and Aizawa had his face suspiciously lowered into his scarf.

Izuku faltered as his eyes landed on Eri. She was beaming. She was actually smiling. She’d managed small grins before, but nothing like this bright-eyed, infectious delight.

Izuku hastily rubbed moisture from his eyes and returned to manning the lights, but he couldn’t stop smiling for the remainder of the song.

The rest of the Festival flew by in an anxious blur as Izuku kept one eye on Gentle and La Brava and the other on making sure Eri had the best day ever. He even spotted Morgana once on top of a food stall. The only thing that gave her away was the pearly blue sheen to her feathers when the light hit her just right. Well, that and she winked at him when she caught him staring.

Finally, the crowds began thinning and Izuku slumped in relief and satisfaction. Gentle and La Brava had left the campus, holding to their end of the bargain, and Eri was excitedly chattering away about everything she’d seen and eaten that day. Nejiri had proudly delivered Eri her candy apple a few minutes earlier, and the girl was still happily nibbling at it. After seeing Eri off to wash the sticky red from her face, Izuku slunk away with his bag of unsalted almonds.

He let his mind wander as he trekked into the woods, pausing occasionally to listen for anyone following. Morgana met him a few minutes in and led him to a clearing by hopping and flying between tree branches. He saw the perimeter sign for the Restricted Zone and hesitantly followed Morgana in. They stopped at a clearing a short time later, and Izuku settled down to lean back against a tree while Morgana crowed his presence to the surrounding wood.

Izuku blinked in surprise when more than Yamamizu emerged from the underbrush, though the deer was certainly the largest. There was a tiny field mouse with no visible mutations, a stoat with an abnormally long and possibly prehensile tail, a raccoon dog with glowing eyes, and a large lizard of some sort that appeared to have a patterning mutation, or maybe camouflage?

At least everyone seemed to enjoy the nuts, though the lizard and stoat only ate a handful. They seemed more interested in him, sniffing cautiously and tasting the air in his direction respectively. Izuku put up with the scrutiny with practiced stillness. When the tawny field mouse climbed up his pantleg to sit on his thigh they finally dismissed him.

He suspected the mouse had some sort of empathy quirk when sleepy contentment hit him out of nowhere. If he and the mouse took a nap under Morgana’s watchful eye, and if Morgana took the opportunity to steal the last half of the almond bag, no one was awake to notice.

By the time Morgana deigned to wake him and he stumbled back to the dorm it was dark. The sleepy muzziness lingered the whole way, an odd tag-on for an empathy quirk some distant part of him noted. He so had to analyze that later. He idly checked his phone only to see a new contact saved as “LB.” He’d…worry about that later. The last of the field mouse’s quirk faded from his system when he entered the common room to see footage of their Festival playing on the tv. Everyone was frozen where they sat or stood, staring at the screen. Only Aizawa glanced up at Izuku’s entrance.

Izuku joined the others as the footage skipped to sunset with UA in the background. In the foreground stood Gentle. “Today was full of surprises, not the least of them being our benefactor and threatener who will remain anonymous. All you, my fans, have him to thank for the change of plans and the stellar footage today. I’ll admit I miss the thrill of a good fight and chase, but sneaking in and out under such a prestigious institute’s nose has a thrill all its own…”

True to form, Gentle talked a while longer, but Izuku stopped listening, acutely aware of Aizawa’s gaze burning into the back of his neck. “Anything you want to tell me about your errand this morning, Problem Child?”

“Nope. There w-were no v-villain attacks or fights to s-speak of.” He gave his best innocent grin, but Aizawa only raised an eyebrow.

Izuku was saved from further questioning by Kaminari’s excited yell, “Guys! Someone reuploaded just the part with our concert, and it’s everywhere. We’ve gone viral!”

Chapter Text

I apologize for the delay in getting chapter 76 out. My muse has been chasing after a few other ideas, including a time travel fix-it involving Aizawa's time as a student at UA and a one-shot(?) of a medical drama/DfO reveal because OfA nonsense. I've got the first 2 chapters of the fix-it done, but I don't want to start posting it until I've got things better planned out and Once a Hero closer to completion. As for the other...if my muse keeps up like this, I'll likely be finishing it before the half-written chapter 76 (which will include the long-awaited robot rumble). Blame the NWA Discord server for giving me juicy ideas.

eyes the other two drafts in my BNHA WIP folder and sweats

If y'all have any questions or ideas for the other fics, let me know. And if there's anything, in particular, you want to see out of the underground meeting of gearheads, speak now or forever hold your peace. I should have 76 out either next week or the week after. (Provided the one-shot doesn't turn into a monster; I'm already 4,300 words in as is... >.<)

Chapter Text

The good news? His cast was off. (And wow did it feel weird when the doctor removed the wire. Apparently, there were a few screws in his arm as well, but those were staying.)

The bad news? There was more of that, varying by degrees. He couldn’t move his atrophied arm after it was frozen in place for so long, which was fine. The doctors assured him that was expected and would improve with physical therapy; muscle could be rebuilt. The scars on both sides of his arm just above his elbow were tight and ugly and pulled painfully when the physical therapist ran him through his first set of range of motion exercises. That…might improve some. They gave him some cream to soften the scar tissue and help with the pain and a compression sleeve to wear. So, fingers crossed. The side of his arm following the point of his left elbow to his pinkie finger was numb, and the last two fingers on that hand only curled partway. That…wasn’t going to go away. The doctors were surprised he could move those fingers at all given the numbness, and Izuku had thought the limited motion this whole time was because of the cast.

Izuku didn’t talk on the drive back to UA. He wasn’t sure he could if he wanted to.

The next weeks Izuku spent filling his mornings and heroics practical time (and evenings on non-heroics days) with physical therapy and throwing knife sets when he wasn’t sleeping off Recovery Girl’s quirk. The eyes that tracked his new scar whenever he had his compression sleeve off made him acutely aware of the wounded thing in his chest that had just started to spread its wings again before this. This wasn’t the end of the world; his arm was healed. He was getting better. He didn’t need a quirk to be a hero.

But he was beginning to wonder if—

Izuku violently shook that half-formed thought from his head, startling Iida where he sat at the other end of the sofa. They were working on today’s math homework, but the ache radiating through the bone of Izuku’s upper arm and into his elbow made it hard to concentrate. Normally, it didn’t bother him this much when he was on his meds. He set his pencil down and massaged his newest scar while glancing out the window. Ah, there was a storm coming in; that explained it. Izuku started packing up his school supplies, knowing it was a futile endeavor until he got the pain under control. Maybe he could ask Recovery Girl if taking an extra dose of his pain medication was safe?

“Midoriya?”

“Hm?” Izuku looked up to meet Iida’s eyes. There was understanding there.

“Is your arm giving you trouble?”

Izuku shrugged and looked away. “Just hurts. W-weather change. I-I’ll do the homework later.”

Iida frowned and held out a hand telling Izuku to stay put. “One moment.” Iida briskly walked off, making for the elevator. He returned a few minutes later with a silver packet of something in hand. He held the packet out to Izuku and explained, “These patches have an over-the-counter pain reliever in them that absorbs through the skin in small, localized doses. Don’t put them directly on your scar though. That tends to sting.” Iida rubbed at his left shoulder at the last caution.

Izuku offered his friend a small smile. “Thanks, Iida.” He ripped the top of the packet open to be assaulted by the scent of menthol. Izuku blinked slightly watering eyes and carefully pulled two patches out before setting the packet aside. “How’s your arm doing? Decide on that procedure yet?”

Iida nodded. “I think I’ll have it done after graduation. Recovery can be long if there are any complications, and I don’t want it to interfere with training here at UA. If worse comes to worst I can do deskwork at Idaten until I finish recovering.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Izuku sighed as the cool tingle of the patches started to soak through his skin. They felt strange, but it was better than the pain. “Thanks again.”

“What are friends for? Oh, do remember to take them off after 8 hours, or they might irritate your skin.”

“Got it.”

After discovering that the odd, cold feel of the patches did override the pain that had been there before, Izuku got his math homework back out. He and Iida returned to working in companionable silence as dark clouds blotted out the sky and rain drummed against the windows.

Izuku only set his pencil aside when his phone chimed. It was a message from Maijima. Izuku felt himself start to smile as he read. Then his eyes widened. He hurriedly put his phone and homework in his backpack before tossing said backpack a hopefully safe distance away.

Iida watched his frantic movements with bewilderment. “Midoriya, are you—”

He never got to answer as the front door was thrown open. Izuku only had time to turn his right side to take the brunt of the impact before Mei tackled him where he sat on the sofa. “Izuku! Did Maijima-sensei message you?! The rumble is on!” She cackled one of her best mad scientist cackles and shook Izuku.

Somewhere in the back of the common room, Tokoyami muttered something about a mad banquet of darkness, and Iida stared at the pair for a moment before coming to Izuku’s rescue. “Hatsume, desist at once! You could reinjure Midoriya with that type of roughhousing. Plus, you are getting mud and water all over the sofa. You should really put your shoes away at the genkan.”

Mei released Izuku and turned to face Iida, smile growing impossibly wider. “Ah! Demo assistant! I was going to look for you too! Izuku’s not allowed to lift sensitive—”

“She means heavy,” Izuku interjected.

“Sensitive!” Mei yelled over Izuku’s laughter. “Equipment yet. So, I’ll need a helper for transporting and setting up my babies at the underground event. Maijima said I can bring whatever I want as long as it fits in the van and he doesn’t have to move any of it. He didn’t say anything about other people.”

Iida gaped at Mei and Izuku for a minute. Finally, he seemed to find his words again. “Why on earth would I agree to essentially be your pack mule?! And for a questionably legal gathering, no less?”

Izuku set a hand on Mei’s shoulder to let her know he had this one. With his still admittedly weak left arm, Izuku held his phone out to Iida. It was open to the message from Maijima. Iida took the phone hesitantly, and Izuku said, “Look at where the expo is going to be.”

Iida stared at the screen, blinking owlishly. “Naruhata…”

Izuku beamed. “Yep, not too far from Hosu.” Izuku took his phone back and shot a text off to Ms. Joke. She and Snitch were going. “There’s a pretty good chance Tensei will attend, or if not him, a lot of people he knows. You could network.”

Mei nodded vehemently. “Yeah! Where do you think your family got the idea for those engine modifications?” Izuku could practically hear her zooming in on Iida’s calves. Izuku’d thought Iida’s engines looked a little different and the exhaust pipes longer, but he hadn’t said anything out of politeness. “There’ll be tons of support people and people with mechanical quirks there without all the red tape and Commission oversight the official expos have!”

Iida seemed torn as he looked between them. On one hand, yes, the gathering was technically illegal. On the other hand, there were going to be tons of tech quirks to learn from and possibly Tensei.

Izuku’s phone chimed again, breaking the silent standoff. Ms. Joke had replied. Izuku smiled, knowing he and Mei had won. “Ms. Joke just confirmed that Tensei will be there. He’s entered in one of the races.”

Mei gaped. “There are races? Why did no one tell me?!”

At the same time, Iida made a choked noise before sighing, shoulders slumping in resignation. “Fine.”

Izuku and Mei high-fived before both scrambling up off the sofa to head out into the storm. The robot rumble and underground gathering was only three days away, and there was so much in the Development Studio they had to finish and pack up.

---

“When you said this event was underground, I didn’t think you meant it so…literally,” Iida said as the trio of students and Maijima followed a long tunnel down, down, and further down. Everyone except Izuku had their arms full of boxes, and Izuku carried the case for the Mei-graine Remover and had the remote control for Mei’s battle bot hanging around his neck. The deceptively small thing whirred along beside him, set on follow. It almost could have been mistaken for a giant, metallic beetle, except for all of the collapsible panels that promised creative means of death and destruction. Well, that’s what they promised to Izuku. Most people were likely to think it was a cute and harmless metal rendition of a ladybug until it was too late. That was the whole point.

But before Mei could smash and trash the competition, they had to help their teacher set up the folding table they’d brought and unload all the gear he and Mei wanted to show off. As Izuku helped the others unpack at one end of the makeshift expo hall, he glanced around at some of the other tables nearby. Most of them looked like vendors. Izuku frowned and looked back over their own table. He knew for a fact they weren’t selling UA tech to the underground. There had to be some other purpose to this but what? “Maijima-sensei?”

“Hm?”

“Why set up a display?”

Maijima set down the tesla coil he was holding and looked at Izuku. “How else would I find quality people to recommend for the Support course? If I want mad genius, I gotta go where the mad geniuses are.” Maijima waved an arm to indicate the length of the underground chamber. “Plus, sometimes people here are willing to sell blueprints for support gear. Picked up a few really useful pieces in the past.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mei said, waving a hand dismissively. “You can scout yourself some untapped brilliance and look for babies later. We have a rumble to register for!”

Izuku laughed and shook his head at Mei’s laser focus. While the robot rumble promised to be entertaining, Izuku looked forward to checking out the other draws for this event too. He had to stop by the races because Tensei, and then he had to track down Ms. Joke to say hello. It felt like forever since they’d last talked. He wanted to walk the expo hall (tunnel?) too. Seeing such a variety of tech might give him ideas for improving his own. And he should probably network while here too. He was going into underground heroics after all; these were his people.

So, after helping Maijima set up his own table at one end of the tunnels designated for the expo and handing over the robot and its controller to Mei while she waited in the line for the rumble’s registration, Izuku pulled Iida away. They made for the tunnel reverberating with the rev of multiple engines. It didn’t take them long to find the cordoned off wider tunnel where a drag race was in progress. Izuku smiled wide as the pack sped past. Unlike professional races, quirk usage was encouraged here so long as it didn’t interfere with other competitors, and the definition of what could be admitted to the race seemed to be loose at best. There was everything from a formula one racecar to a motorcycle to a hovering dingy. One of the racers was even riding what looked like a souped-up unicycle.

“There he is!” Iida yelled over the general noise, pointing toward the start line.

Izuku finally spotted Tensei as someone in a limited-edition Silver Age All Might hoody helped him into a vehicle that looked like a bobsled crossed with a go-kart. He and Iida waved as a woman with a leopard mutation stepped to the center of the track and raised a flag.

When it fell, a lot of things happened at once. Motors roared, wheels screeched and spun, and Iida Tensei held his arms out from the sides of his vehicle’s cabin, quirk activating with a burst of blue flame from the mufflers on his elbows. The vehicles shot past in a blur of color and noise, making Izuku’s head hurt a little. He’d have to swing back by Maijima’s expo table to pick up the Mei-graine remover at this rate.

He and Iida cheered as Tensei was declared the winner of his race. They pushed their way through the crowd gathered along the sidelines to reach the end of the racing strip, where vehicles were quickly being cleared to make room for the next race. They found Tensei talking to All Might hoody guy, Ms. Joke, and two others Izuku didn’t recognize. Oh! Opal and Snitch were here too. They stood a little apart from the others, discussing a piece of tech in Snitch’s hands.

Ms. Joke spotted them first and smiled wide as Izuku ran up to her. She pulled him into a hug and laughed. “Deku! Good to see you, kid! Who else is here?” She set her hands on his shoulders and pushed him away lightly to get a better look at him. “And how’s your arm doing?”

Izuku smiled so hard his face almost hurt. “I’m here w-with Mei and Maijima. Tenya’s our hauler,” he said, pointing to where his classmate was talking to Tensei and the hoody guy. Izuku’s smile fell a little as he looked down at his arm, reflexively trying to make a fist and wincing when his ring finger and pinky didn’t curl all the way in. “I-I’m healing. Hopefully, I’ll be able to freerun with your group again s-soon.”

Ms. Joke gave a small frown when she saw his attempt at a fist, then glanced up at the compression sleeve over his elbow. At her silent question, Izuku pulled the sleeve down to show the scar he was still trying to convince himself wasn’t ugly. Joke winced in sympathy at the sight of it. “Hm. Could probably figure something out with modified gloves to get your fingers cooperating again, at least for making a fist.” She turned to Opal, who now stood to the side of the two Izuku didn’t recognize. “Hey, Machinists, think you would have anything non-invasive to help?”

The trio joined them, and the only man of the group narrowed his grey eyes at Izuku’s arm and stared intently at his injury before blinking several times. “Must have been a bad break if they used a bone quirk so extensively. Damage to the ulnar nerve?”

“Uh…” Izuku had no idea what that was.

The guy sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “Numbness along the outside of your arm and last two fingers on that hand?”

“Oh, yes. I can still move the fingers a little, which surprised the doctor. No feeling in my pinky, and very muted sensations in my ring finger.”

The guy glanced over at the woman who wasn’t Opal. This woman had frizzy grey hair and teal eyes. She seemed lost in thought, eyes jittering as if studying invisible schematics. After another moment of silence, she nodded decisively. “It’s doable, though internal would be a lot easier. Reconnecting nerves isn’t that difficult with nanites…” she trailed off with a questioning tone.

“No can do,” Ms. Joke said with a shake of her head. “He’s a hero student. Don’t want to give the Commission any more reason to can him.”

The female scientist(?) pouted and sighed. “You’re that UA hero student who’s also one of Maijima’s brats, right? I’ll send him some blueprints later. I still owe him a favor for what he did for Michio’s kid last year.”

Izuku bowed. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t sweat it, Deku. Us gearheads gotta stick together.” She leaned a little closer and whispered, “And if you ever change your mind, first mod’s on the house. Just tell a Machinist that Tinker wants to see you.”

Izuku nodded despite his confusion, and the Machinist grinned at him and Ms. Joke. Then she winked and walked away, her entourage following behind her. When Izuku looked back to Ms. Joke, though, he got worried. She was really pale all of a sudden. “Ms. Joke?”

“That…was the leader of the Machinists…”

Izuku’s eyebrows shot up, and he turned to look after them again, only to find the Machinist group vanished amidst the crowd.

“That she is,” Tensei said as hoody guy pushed his wheelchair up beside them. “Good woman, if a bit eccentric and fairly blunt with her sales pitches.” He chuckled.

Ms. Joke shook off her shock and eyed Tensei carefully. “She made you an offer, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, but I can’t take it if I want to keep my hero compensation.”

“So, it’s either stay in a wheelchair and keep your Commission pay, or get your legs back but lose your job and any funding?” Tenya asked, clearly outraged.

“That’s how the Commission has it, yeah,” hoody guy said. “Their rules are dumb sometimes. If I recall correctly from history class, they banned internal support tech after some scientist nut mind controlled like 60 people with his tech. I think. I’d need to ask Makoto to be sure. She wrote a paper on it once.”

“Crawler’s right. It’s a no-win situation. At least as I am, I can still legally be employed at my own agency.”

Izuku frowned and asked, “What about the 60 people? Were they barred from work because of what happened?”

“Hm? Oh, no, they were all unwilling subjects. They got a pass,” Crawler said, waving a hand. “Wouldn’t look good for the Commission or be fair to the victims to condemn them alongside their tormentor.”

Izuku mulled that over as the group made their way down one of the tunnels away from the races, following signs toward the robot rumble. For illegal support manufacturers and body modifiers, the Machinists were already nicer than any Commission goon Izuku had met. While he didn’t intend to take Tinker up on her offer, he did appreciate it. And if nothing else, that introduction was likely to prove valuable when Izuku became an underground pro.

Izuku couldn’t wait to see those blueprints Tinker had promised and go over them with Mei. She always loved new tech. Thinking of Mei, Izuku wondered if her time here was proving as productive as his. His question was answered a moment later by the distant crunch of metal and a familiar, mad cackle.

Chapter Text

Izuku carefully tightened the last screw on his newly cleaned and blood-and-ink-free right gauntlet. Izuku shuddered, recalling how hard it had been to get all of Setsuno’s blood out of the material. (Lots of cold water, scrubbing, and an enzymatic cleaner he’d never heard of before this year. Who knew he’d actually learn something practical from his Fashion and Costumes class?) As Izuku eyed the freshly sharpened blades attached to the gauntlet, he wondered how bad the injury was. Izuku really hoped the guy hadn’t lost his hand.

Mei sat across the workbench from him tinkering with Izuku’s partially assembled and much-repaired helmet. Without even looking up from her work she held a hand out to Izuku and made a grabby motion. Izuku huffed a laugh and handed over the gauntlet for her to inspect. She’d insisted he needed to know how to take apart and fix his gear if anything ever went wrong in the field, but until she was confident he knew what he was doing, she was double-checking his work.

When the gauntlet landed in her hand, she finally switched her attention, quickly scanning the gear with her quirk occasionally zooming in. She flourished a screwdriver and tightened one bolt that he’d apparently not done satisfactorily. Then she hummed and nodded her approval, setting the gauntlet next to the other finished pieces of his costume at one end of the workbench. Boots, two jo staffs—which were now better insulated against external electrical sources and could double as escrima sticks when not deployed to full length!—tracker discs, and taser discs. She’d even had him disassemble and reassemble his grapple gun and the drone. All he had left now was the base jumpsuit and his utility belt.

It was still early in the day, but this had been a wonderfully relaxing Saturday thus far. Just him and Mei, the background noise of the Development Studio machinery, and the odd spark or hiss of static when Mei found a damaged circuit in Izuku’s helmet. No one else had come to the lab yet, though Izuku wasn’t certain if that was more due to the early hour on a weekend or Mei’s explosive reputation.

That was fine by him. There were a lot of repairs to cover if Izuku wanted to wear his costume to the Hero Billboard event next Sunday. He’d had to remake the jo staffs from scratch (considering he exploded the last one—Mei was a little proud of him for that), and he’d had to get an impromptu lesson in smithing to fix the warping and chipping in his (formerly Stain’s) knife. His helmet had been several sorts of messed up, taking up all of Mei’s attention to fix, and she refused to let him anywhere near his trashed left gauntlet. Izuku had a feeling she just wanted to experiment with Tinker’s blueprints herself before she shared.

The lack of distractions was probably a blessing, though Izuku wouldn’t have minded one of his Fashion classmates showing up to ask about his stitchwork as he repaired his costume’s left sleeve. Ironically, when someone else did join them in the lab, it wasn’t anyone from the Support course.

“Hey, Izuku!”

Izuku perked up at the familiar voice and set aside the needle and industrial thread he’d been working with. “Mirio! W-what are you doing here?”

Mirio grinned and walked over. “Well, someone wasn’t answering their phone…”

Izuku glanced at where he’d tucked his phone into his backpack to protect it from stray sparks or explosions. Did he forget to turn his volume up? Oops.

“So, Nighteye asked me to tell you that he wants you to come into the agency today if you’re free. He wants you to analyze a series of crimes, but he was going on about secure lines and jurisdictions or something. I figured if we leave early, we’ll still have time to make it to that freerunning gig you wanted to take me to.”

Izuku pulled his phone from his bag to see several missed calls and texts. He grimaced at their sheer number before he read the time. How was it 9:00 already? Then his brain registered the last part of Mirio’s statement. It was Saturday, a.k.a. freerunning-with-Ms.-Joke-day. He broke into a wide smile as he nodded. “Sure! Let me finish this l-last patch job and get cleaned up. Do I need to bring my costume?” he asked, gesturing to the pieces strewn across the workbench.

As he did so, a puff of smoke rose from whatever component Mei was soldering inside Izuku’s helmet. The girl cursed and patted out what was apparently a tiny fire. Mirio and Izuku both stared at the scene for a moment.

Mirio glanced over at Izuku. “Yeah…no, I think you’ll be fine in civvies. You won’t need to leave the agency for this as far as I know.”

Izuku sighed. “Okay, good. I’m not sure my stitches will hold up anyway,” he said, lifting the sleeve which didn’t look quite right, though Izuku couldn’t place his finger on what specifically was wrong with it. “Hey, Mei, could you have Maki or Maijima look over my work if either of them comes in today?” Maki was the top of their Fashion and Costumes class. You could give the guy literal scraps of fabric and get a stylish costume back in under a day. (Izuku had a suspicion that he was related to Best Jeanist and/or Majestic.) Izuku had no doubt he’d be able to pick apart whatever he’d done wrong in a heartbeat.

Mei waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. Go have fun being smart. When you swing by Joke’s agency ask Snitch if she ever found a solution for the interference issue for me.”

“Will do.” With that Izuku tied off his last stitch and cut the thread. He stood and stretched, earning a series of pops in his back.

After cleaning up and getting all the appropriate permission forms signed, Izuku and Mirio left campus together, though only Mirio carried a costume case. They talked about their classes and caught up on the train ride over. Then Mirio asked the question Izuku’d grown to dread over the last few weeks. “So, how’s your arm healing?”

That seemingly innocuous question was really starting to grate on his nerves. Yes, he was getting his strength back, but he couldn’t make a proper fist, which meant he couldn’t throw a punch with that hand or reliably break a hold with it. And holding his jo staff was awkward at best. His fighting style wasn’t quite crippled, but it was hampered. Izuku pulled on his “everything is fine” mask and smiled, praying Mirio didn’t see through him. “I’m getting there. Still doing physical therapy, but it’s getting better. The gauntlet redesign Mei’s working on should help with what that can’t correct.” Izuku made a half-hearted fist to demonstrate.

Mirio frowned a little, and Izuku tried to remember if he’d ever told his friend about the nerve damage. After a moment further of silence, Mirio seemed to reach some decision. “She’s planning to have it ready for the gala next week?”

Izuku hummed and nodded. He eyed Mirio, curious what his senpai was getting at.

Mirio ignored the obvious question in Izuku’s gaze and found something interesting outside the window to study. “That’s good timing.”

Izuku kept one eye on Mirio and his strange behavior all the way to Nighteye’s agency. There were bigger things to worry about once they got there. For one thing, the black car with government plates parked right out front in a no parking zone. Totally not subtle. Izuku and Mirio shared an apprehensive glance before walking inside. The lady who was usually stationed at the front desk was absent, setting Izuku’s nerves even further on edge. What was going on?

Mirio sent off a few texts, and Izuku shot a few of his own to Aizawa, Yagi, Maijima, and Joke saying that if he didn’t text back in five minutes they needed to send backup. The pair of students waited a whole minute with no response from Mirio’s texts before deciding to take the elevator up without being rung in. Mirio not so subtly rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms on the ride up. A government car could be stolen, and plates could be faked. The car was parked illegally, after all; that didn’t speak highly of their interloper’s morals. And why would the agency’s first line of defense not be at her post? None of the answers that came to mind were good. Izuku started stretching too.

When the elevator doors opened, Mirio took point with Izuku following close behind and slightly to his left. They’d mostly sparred against each other, but they had worked on a few combination moves back before the raid. One they’d worked out was a literal sucker punch. Mirio took center stage with an easygoing attitude, and Izuku waited for a good opening to punch…through Mirio and right in their opponent’s face if they got close enough. It was one of a depressingly small number of moves that were feasible in a multistory building’s upper floors, where full use of Mirio’s quirk would merely send him plummeting to the lower levels (and when Izuku didn’t have a scrap of gear on him).

They headed down the hall, checking each office and conference room they passed. The offices looked a bit turned out, as if someone had hurriedly looked for something in particular, and one of the conference rooms was a mess too, with two unfamiliar briefcases set on the table along with an unfamiliar and very solid-looking laptop.

Mirio stood guard at the door while Izuku checked the laptop. There was some sort of download running. Had one of Nighteye’s cases gotten wind of the investigation and come to erase their files? Izuku frowned and disengaged the program, setting the computer to erase whatever it had already copied. Then he loaded up a website infamous for its viruses and started clicking every sketchy download link he could find. Let the hackers chew on that for a while. Izuku grinned as he gave Mirio a thumbs up.

After a brief check, Izuku found both of the plain, black briefcases sealed and locked, and they weren’t a type of lock he could pick. The students reluctantly left the conference room and continued toward Nighteye’s office. They heard muffled voices as they approached and a solid thump. They froze at the sound. Mirio glanced back and nodded his head toward the door, making a motion like he was throwing a latch or a lock. Then he pointed at the door.

Izuku took a moment to piece together that Mirio was going to Permeate through the door and unlock it to allow Izuku in while he distracted whoever was inside. Once he got the plan, he nodded and looked around the hallway, deciding to backtrack and retrieve a heavy-looking stapler and an even heavier paperweight from Centipeder’s office to use as bludgeons.

Mirio moved, leaving his clothes and shoes behind him for the added shock factor. Izuku waited for the click of the door’s lock and counted to five before throwing the door open and bursting in with his bigger weapon raised in his right hand. He froze beside Mirio and blinked at what he found.

Two rather unimpressed men in suits sat across from Nighteye at his desk. Centipeder, Bubble Girl, and the receptionist all stood off to one side with expressions ranging from amused to mortified. Nighteye looked frustrated and a little like he wanted to be put out of his misery. A thick stack of papers sat on the desk between him and…his guests?

Izuku lowered the stapler, tucked the paperweight behind his back, and smiled sheepishly, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes as he asked, “I take it y-you’re not y-yakuza or mob hitmen sent here to s-steal Nighteye’s case files?”

One of the suits looked offended, and the other nonplussed. The latter raised an eyebrow and stated, “And you thought you could take us alone if we were.”

Mirio stepped in to save the last shred of Izuku’s dignity, “Not at all! We’re stalling while Ryukyu and Fat Gum head over.”

Izuku blinked at his senpai. “Oh, y-you texted them? I texted Eraserhead, All M-Might, Power Loader, and Ms. Joke.”

Nighteye sighed. “Cancel the cavalry, you two. This is simply an unannounced Commission inspection. We shouldn’t be too much longer. Togata can show you where I put your set up before he goes on patrol, Midoriya.”

“Sure thing, Sir!” Mirio said with a salute. Izuku was already out of the room when Mirio turned to say over his shoulder, “Oh, and sorry about your computer!” He hurriedly closed the door and shooed Izuku down the hall before anyone could respond.

Izuku handed Mirio his clothes as they took the elevator up one more floor. Izuku spent the short ride letting his teachers and mentor know that it was a false alarm. Then he scrubbed his call and text history of any signs of contact with Tomura. So what if he was paranoid.

Izuku really hoped he and Mirio wouldn’t get in too much trouble for putting a ton of viruses on a Commission laptop! Fuck! The more he thought about it, the more horrified he felt. If the Commission didn’t already have it out for him, they did now.

Thank goodness for case files! Izuku eagerly buried his head in analyzing a string of assaults that oddly enough, targeted several of the villain groups Nighteye had open investigations on. A bit of digging on HeroNet turned up dozens of other near-identical cases spanning the last three years across Hokkaido and the northern half of Honshu. Tokyo seemed to be a recent southern expansion for the…hitman? Vigilante? Villain? Izuku wasn’t quite sure, but this person seemed to be specifically targeting organized crime. So, Izuku wasn’t going to complain too much.

The really weird thing about all the attacks was the wounds left on the “victims.” There was a mix of clean cuts and messy rips or tears. The cuts were obviously from a bladed weapon, but the tears, which were far worse, if rarer, didn’t seem to match any weapon or quirk Izuku could think of. Turning back to the cuts, he almost wondered if the person was some sort of Stendhal copycat. Maybe it was two people—partners—causing the two sets of injuries? But all the eye-witness accounts claimed the wounds were dealt by the same person, though those eye-witnesses tended to clam up when asked about who that person was. There was even one report of a particularly unsavory villain dying while in custody. He’d bled out from one of those tearing wounds before paramedics could get him to the hospital. The thing was…he’d been in his holding cell when the wound appeared. Kinda made sense why no one wanted to talk now.

If that was a quirk at work, it sounded like it was ranged, which was a little terrifying and didn’t rule out an accomplice or partner.

Izuku let himself get sucked into his analysis until a knock came at the door of the spare office he’d been assigned. He blinked a few times and dragged his brain back to the present before calling, “Come in.”

It was one of the Commission suits. Lovely. At least Nighteye had followed him up here. The scowl the hero was directing at the back of the agent’s head was only a little reassuring.

“Um…h-how can I help you?”

“I’m going to ask you a few questions. Standard procedure for interns of an agency under review.”

“O-okay?” Izuku wondered if he should stand. Was it rude for him to be seated while the agent stood? This office didn’t have any extra chairs. It had only been set up as a place for Izuku to be undistracted while doing analysis. “Should w-we head to one of the conference rooms?”

“No, here is fine. This won’t take long,” the man said, straightening his perfectly straight suit jacket and pulling out a voice recorder. “What do you do for The Nighteye Agency?”

Izuku eyed the recorder for a moment before responding. “A-at present? I’m an intern doing case and q-quirk analysis. Once my costume’s repaired and I’m medically cleared, I’ll likely be r-reintroduced to routine patrols.”

Nighteye nodded in approval from behind the agent, and Izuku suppressed a grin.

The agent gave no visible reaction, moving on to ask about how long he’d been working with the agency and the cases—well singular case—he’d been physically involved in to date.

After a tedious seven minutes, the agent turned off the recorder. “Sir Nighteye, be sure to mark which files contain intern-done analyses in the future. Thank you for your time, Deku.” The agent’s lips almost twitched into a hint of a smile as he said the hero name. He looked over Izuku’s desk. The computer screen had since gone into sleep mode, but the agent could still see his coded notebook and loose notes. “Enjoy this setup while you can.” Then the agent turned on his heel and walked from the room.

After the door clicked closed behind the agent, leaving Nighteye and Izuku alone, Izuku asked, “What’s that s-supposed to mean?”

Nighteye stared at the door as if it had personally offended him, then run off to deface his All Might merch. “Don’t worry about it, Midoriya. The Commission lackeys assigned to reviews are the lowest on the totem pole. They like to pretend that they’re powerful by making heroes uncomfortable.” Nighteye sighed through his nose and turned to face Izuku with far less animosity than he’d shown the door. “So, what do you have on your latest case?”

Izuku grinned shakily and woke his screen up to show Nighteye the incident map he’d been working on. After writing up a proper—not written in Nezu-approved code—report on the unknown vigilante/villain Nighteye released him and Mirio for the weekend.

The students saluted and headed for the train station again. Izuku texted Aizawa an update on their location. “Heading to Joke’s agency. I’ll tell Sleeper you say hi.”

Less than a minute later Aizawa replied. “You will say no such thing. Stay out of trouble unless it’s at Joke’s expense.”

Izuku snorted before shutting off his phone completely. Izuku poked Mirio, then held up his phone to indicate Mirio should do the same. Mirio looked confused but shut his phone off too. “What’s up, Izuku?”

“W-what are the chances the Commission chose to do their once every three year inspection the one day since the r-raid that we both head into the agency?”

Mirio’s brows scrunched up as he processed that and frowned. “Not likely.”

Izuku nodded. Nothing else was said until Izuku had led Mirio through the twisting series of alleyways that led to the front door of Ms. Joke’s agency. After waving to a few of the desk staff he recognized, Izuku dragged Mirio up the stairs to Snitch’s domain.

“Snitch! We got two phones for y-you to de-bug,” he called, unsurprised when he heard a clatter and curse from the expansive support gear closet.

She popped out of the cluttered space with an armload of wires. “Bugs you say?”

“Yep.” He set his and Mirio’s phones on a free spot of bench space. “Oh, and Mei wanted to know if y-you’d had any luck with the interference problem.”

Snitch dumped her tangle of wires onto her chair and sighed dramatically before dropping her head onto the chair back. “Don’t speak to me of the interference problem. I’ve been losing sleep over that and had to contact an old classmate from Seiai. She’s helping, but she’ll never let me live this down.”

Izuku laughed. “I’ll tell her it’s a w-work in progress.”

“You do that and not a word more, Deku,” Snitch said, leveling a threatening finger his way. Then her eyes zeroed in on Mirio. “Ooh, who’s this?” Then she spied his costume case. “And he brought me a costume to critique! I like you already, new kid.”

Introductions were made, and Snitch happily took Mirio’s costume case off his hands while the two boys headed up to the roof to wait for Ms. Joke. Izuku had learned his lesson last time. If he wanted to avoid people getting the drop on him, wait somewhere no one can drop from. Unless Joke had a friend with a flying quirk, they should be relatively safe under the open sky.

Izuku had just started to doze off where he sprawled on the rooftop when a Joke-shaped shadow blocked the sun. “Deku! And friend! You both joining us for freerunning today?”

Izuku stood up and dusted himself off while Ms. Joke and Mirio exchanged introductions. After a few minutes, Izuku good-naturedly said, “You two can throw jokes a-at each other on the way. Daylight’s wasting.”

Ms. Joke shot Izuku a huge smile. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you knew a fellow humor aficionado? I could have stolen him from Nighteye ages ago.”

Izuku laughed at the sudden mental image of Ms. Joke and Nighteye fighting over Mirio. “M-maybe you can file for joint custody like you have w-with Eraser for me?”

Ms. Joke laughed before launching herself off the agency’s roof. “I just might. Come on, slowpokes!”

Izuku and Mirio followed on her heels, smiling. Mirio because he’d discovered someone new to joke with (pun 100% intended), and Izuku because this felt normal. For the first time since getting his cast off, he finally felt like he was getting back into the swing of things.

Of course, that was when he tripped on a loose sheet of cardboard someone had left on the rooftop. Izuku rolled with the fall and sprung back to his feet almost before Mirio and Joke noticed his fumble. He shot them a reassuring grin, and they continued. If the other two stuck a tiny bit closer after that, Izuku pretended not to notice.

They stopped atop the usual ramen shop, meeting up with Shindo, Nakagame, and what looked like half of Ms. Joke’s first year class. Izuku wasn’t as familiar with them and generally stuck near the two second years. Though Nakagame and Shindo vouched for Izuku, the Ketsubutsu first years didn’t seem to know what to make of Izuku either and mutually avoided him. Eh, it worked.

They spent a minute longer there than usual for introductions before Ms. Joke decided they needed to get going. “Alright, kiddies, time to head out. A storm’s coming in later, and some of you are sweet enough you just might melt in the rain. I’d hate to have to call Eraser and explain why his favorite student isn’t coming back.”

Izuku sputtered and felt his face turn red. The others laughed, Mirio included. “That would be a tragedy,” Mirio said, wiping a non-existent tear from his eye.

“Speak for yourself,” Izuku grumbled before shooting his senpai a smirk. “Imagine how sad Amajiki will be if you don’t come back.”

Mirio blushed, though nowhere near the strawberry shade Izuku sported. Rather than answer, he raced after Ms. Joke, who was already on the move. Izuku rolled his eyes and fell into step with Nakagame and her sharp, but genuinely happy to see him, smile.

Aside from that initial fumble, Izuku had minimal issues with their run. There were one or two spots he needed a hand up where he couldn’t get a good enough grip with 1 ½ hands, but Nakagame seemed to anticipate them. They didn’t fall behind at all. That’s why Izuku heard the reason for everyone stopping at once on the roof of a pawn shop: shattering glass. Everyone quickly scanned the street below them, before Shindo pointed out a storefront two buildings down with a blown-out window. Izuku looked just in time to see a guy with a bag slung over his shoulder vault through the opening. Everyone shared a glance. Shindo, Nakagame, Mirio, and Ms. Joke shared a grin. Izuku hesitated to join until Ms. Joke nodded at him.

“First years, stay put and phone for police,” Ms. Joke directed. “Observe and be ready to give critiques when we get back. All provisionally licensed students, you have my permission to engage and detain the suspect. Go!”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Where the other three students dropped to street level almost immediately to pursue, Izuku and Ms. Joke stuck to the rooftops, trying to head off the runner and box him in. Izuku eyed the guy as they ran. No obvious mutation quirk or quirk factors. Probably an emitter type or (much less likely) quirkless. Their best chance of capture was to subdue before any unknown quirk could be brought to bear.

After only a minute, the criminal made the mistake of taking a left into the alley directly in front of them. Joke leaped down first, and Izuku watched for a second to track the course she took before following. He deviated at the end to land on top of the criminal rather than in front of him though. Izuku quickly rolled the guy onto his stomach and twisted his arms behind his back, using his left knee to help pin the man’s left arm, since his left hand’s grip was weaker. The others turned into the alleyway as the guy recovered enough to start struggling. Mirio with his much greater bulk traded places with Izuku while Shindo patted the guy’s head, using just a touch of his quirk to rattle the guy’s brain and stun him. Joke slipped a pair of cuffs on him right after.

All told, it was a surprisingly clean capture. There was zero property damage after they started pursuing, and even the criminal should only have bruises and a headache from the takedown. Izuku nodded to himself as he thought about it. He suspected Aizawa would even approve. The only thing left to do now was wait for the cops and…

Izuku dropped his smile as he looked around at the others. He slapped a finger to his nose and yelled, “Not it!”

The others startled and looked at him in bewilderment until Ms. Joke repeated the gesture, smiling manically. Then the others seemed to catch on. There was still the incident report to file, after all.

As Nakagame and Shindo playfully fought over who was actually the loser of this round of “nose goes,” Izuku couldn’t hold back a grin. Was this what a work-study was supposed to be like? Not getting dumped straight into the deep end with an entire yakuza and quirk destroying bullets and little girls being experimented on? Izuku decided he could get used to something like this. Maybe he’d ask Ms. Joke if she was willing to take him on for his next work-study. Of course, he had to get cleared for active duty again first.

He looked down at his left hand, flexing and extending the fingers as far as they’d go. He shrugged. He was used to having hurdles thrown in his path. As long as he still had his goal to push toward, he’d gladly tear down, leap over, or work around each and every one. And he wasn’t alone in this anymore. He had Mei, Hitoshi, Iida, Uraraka, and Mirio beside him. And Aizawa, Joke, Maijima, and Yagi behind him. They didn’t quite cover the void left by Sensei, Tomura, and Kurogiri’s absence, but they were supportive in their own way. With a rare confidence, Izuku decided he could do this. It was about time he stopped doubting himself.

Overhead the clouds darkened, and distant thunder rolled.

Chapter Text

The last few days had been a mixed bag of great and frustrating. On the one hand, Mei had finished the “miracle design” Tinker had sent blueprints for, and Izuku’s left gauntlet was made anew with the additional tech to assist him in making a fist. On the other, most of his classmates were still treating him like he was made of glass in their Heroics practicals. He had half a mind to show them just who was fragile. With his new throwing knives. But he was a good person and didn’t want to maim anyone. The longer they avoided actually sparring with him the more tempting it got though.

The only ones who’d consistently sparred with him without holding back were Hitoshi, Ojiro, and Hagakure. Uraraka didn’t do it often, but she’d sometimes freeze up or stop herself from grabbing his recently healed arm. It made Izuku almost as annoyed as Snitch finding two Commission bugs on his phone after visiting Nighteye’s agency, which was to say, very, but he shouldn’t have expected any different.

Katsuki had been avoiding Izuku, and so far, the teachers hadn’t pitted them against each other 1 v. 1. Izuku was mostly glad that his teachers had listened after the disaster of their final exam last semester and their fight after the licensing exam, but some part of him wanted to face Katsuki again. Izuku made a face at that thought and shook it away. A voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Tomura reminded him that abusers didn’t change. Even if he has grown since then…But no, Tomura or Hitoshi definitely were going to hit him upside the head if they heard him thinking like that. “But at least, Katsuki won’t pull his punches…”

Izuku sighed and stood from where he’d been stretching on the floor of Gym Gamma. It was time for a Heroics practical again, and they had a guest speaker of some sort. Aizawa and Yagi had been tightlipped about who it was though. Izuku was also curious why Ectoplasm was here today and what exactly the crate next to Yagi was for.

Once the others were all stretched and standing at attention, Yagi stepped forward to start the lesson’s introduction. “As many of you know, injuries in the field are regrettably common. In an ideal world, if you’re compromised, you’d retreat to get your wounds treated, but in the real world, you often have to hold out until backup arrives before you can safely stop fighting. Today we’ll be working on how to handle mishaps and cover weaknesses when fighting.”

This sparked tons of whispers from Izuku’s classmates. Meanwhile, Izuku only stared at All Might. Was he really doing this? Izuku’s left arm ached, and he ignored the feeling of eyes on him.

Yagi met Izuku’s eyes for a moment, and the man gave him a small smile. He cleared his throat to quiet the class before continuing, “Many of you may recall my fight against All for One at Kamino.” Seriousness descended thick and heavy on the gym. Yagi had everyone’s undivided attention now. “Most of you recall how long I wore a sling after that fight, but most of you don’t know that I went into that fight already injured.”

There were a few cries of dismay and confusion, and Izuku took a sharp breath.

All Might quieted the class again with a raised hand. Then that hand lifted his shirt to reveal the hideous scar wrapped around his torso. “That wasn’t my first time fighting that villain. The first time I almost didn’t survive.” His shirt fell. “Hopefully, none of you ever have to fight with such a serious injury, but take today’s lesson to heart. Injuries on the job do occur, and how you handle yourself between receiving them and getting medical aid can impact the rest of your life.”

Aizawa stepped forward then, and every young pair of eyes traced the scar under their teacher’s eye with new appreciation. Several also glanced over at Ectoplasm and his prosthetic legs. “To that end, today we’ll be teaching you emergency first aid and teaching you how to fight while dealing with randomly assigned fake injuries. I’m sure you’re all wondering who our guest today is, given the topic.” Aizawa’s eyes roved over his students before he turned toward the door and called, “Come in.”

Izuku blinked in surprise as a familiar person in an All Might hoody pushed the doors open and held them. Then Iida Tensei wheeled himself into the gym. The retired hero smiled and waved as his wheelchair coasted forward. “Hello, everybody. Thank you for having me today.”

Aizawa spoke over the few students who started talking, “For those of you unaware, this is Iida Tensei, a.k.a. Ingenium.”

Things moved more quickly from there. Aizawa called students up one at a time to give them their “injury” for the day. Then the crate and its contents came into play. Izuku expected actual medical supplies but was surprised to find the crate actually contained random junk they’d be more likely to find on an active battlefield: a bolt of singed costume fabric from the Support course (to spare them having to tear pieces off their own suits for the exercise), twisted metal of varying sizes and types, capture tape, and more. Ectoplasm even showed them how to pry open a bullet to use the gunpowder inside to cauterize a wound (a trick he’d learned from Snipe that had saved his life when he lost his legs). Even if a hero didn’t carry a gun, several villains and criminals did. Chances of firearms and ammo being on a battlefield were relatively high. Izuku avidly took notes, deciding to add a roll of capture tape, water bottle, and lighter to his utility belt alongside several other surprisingly useful bits and bobs.

Once each student had taken a turn as an object lesson and received their improvised first aid, they were paired off to spar. This part of the lesson served dual purposes: fighting safely while injured and taking advantage of an opponent’s weaknesses. Izuku considered himself lucky with the fake gunshot wound to his left shoulder. He was already used to favoring his left arm. Sero, who had an awkwardly splinted and taped ankle wasn’t faring so well. His classmate kept forgetting the fake injury and trying to put full weight on his “bad” leg. Aizawa—knowing most would have this problem—had added an extra wad of tape to the underside of Sero’s foot while taping it to off balance him should he attempt to use the limb normally. (Others had been similarly hampered. Katsuki had his right arm taped to his chest to prevent him from using the “broken” limb.)

The teachers offered frequent advice and corrected any moves that would have furthered the feigned injuries. Izuku for once allowed his annoyance at his classmates’ treatment of him to show. If they underestimated an injured enemy the same way they’d been underestimating him, they stood to pay the price in lives. Nemoto concussed but still pointing his gun at Eri during the Hassaikai riad was a particularly vivid example. Izuku couldn’t stand the thought of the same happening to one of his classmates or a civilian under their care. So, he might have leaned into the role of villain in his spars, acted a bit more ruthless than usual, and pressed every advantage until each classmate pitted against him either took him seriously or found themselves pinned at knifepoint.

Sero thankfully caught on after his first defeat, smiling as he used his quirk to lift himself out of Izuku’s reach in round two. Izuku returned the smile with a determined one and a thrown knife. Sero yelped as the strand of tape he hung from snapped. He caught himself with a second strand and swung toward Izuku, aiming to slam his good leg into Izuku’s torso. Izuku rolled out of the way and threw another knife, this time aiming closer to Sero’s elbow. His classmate’s eyes widened comically at the implied threat, and Sero quickly dropped behind one of the concrete blocks scattered about the gym. Sero didn’t need to fear Izuku actually hitting him there with a knife, but Izuku was glad he took the possibility seriously. Any real villain was likely to aim for such a crippling blow.

Their match turned into a game of cat and mouse until Aizawa called for them to rotate partners. Izuku jogged over to Ectoplasm, whose clones had retrieved his stray knives. He grabbed a quick drink of water from the cooler beside the teacher while scanning his blades for damage. Afterward, he turned to see who his new sparring partner was. His chest tightened at the fierce red eyes boring into his.

Izuku let out a careful breath and made his way over to Katsuki. The boy looked just as angry as ever, though there was something cautious or calculating to him too. Where did they even stand now? Izuku shook his head free of the question. He didn’t think he’d ever have an answer. He had given up on wanting to understand Katsuki or be his friend at some point in the last five years. Probably when he learned what a real friendship looked like from Tomura. Sure, Izuku relapsed occasionally, but he knew better now. However much Katsuki had grown, Izuku couldn’t trust him. Especially after their final. A cold feeling Izuku hadn’t felt in weeks wound through his chest as he took a ready stance.

Small explosions popped across Katsuki’s right palm, burning off the sweat from his immobilized arm before the spar. When he finished, Katsuki crouched in his own ready stance, not taking his eyes off of Izuku as he growled, “Do your worst, nerd.”

They circled each other for half a minute, each looking for an opening. Katsuki was the first to make a move, launching himself toward Izuku with an explosion from his left hand. Izuku was ready for him, flicking his right arm out toward Katsuki and pressing the button on the side of his index finger to fire a taser disc at his classmate’s chest. Katsuki changed directions midair with another blast, narrowly avoiding electrocution.

In the meantime, Izuku pulled a jo staff from his belt and extended it. His aikido instructor was sure to throw a fit if he ever saw Izuku’s butchered form with only one hand on the staff, but improvisation was better than failure. And Izuku was done failing where Katsuki was involved.

Izuku electrified the staff and swung for Katsuki the second he was in range. Katsuki’s eyes narrowed and a familiar feral grin spread across his face. He dodged Izuku’s strike and follow-up kick. Izuku felt a similarly unfriendly smile on his own face as he rolled away from an explosion. Both of them were down one arm and off-balanced by makeshift bandages. Izuku was more used to fighting impaired, but Katsuki had better range with his quirk and had more fuel for it the longer they fought. After a flurry of dodged blows and counterstrikes, Katsuki finally bit the proverbial bullet and took a shock to kick Izuku’s jo staff halfway across the gym.

Seizing on the opportunity, Izuku darted in close and tried to land a blow on Katsuki’s tied-down right arm. Katsuki turned out to not be as stunned as he’d let on. (Were his boots insulated?) The blonde deflected the blow with an explosion. Izuku felt the heat through his gauntlet, but knew he was okay. His heart still hammered in his ears as he shook his right wrist to engage his claws, barely dodging another explosion aimed for his head.

Izuku bent over backward and kicked Katsuki away from him even as he sloppily completed a one-handed back handspring, staggering on the landing. Izuku barely regained his footing before needing to duck under another assault. Katsuki wasn’t giving him any breathing room; he needed to get out of this and fast. Izuku’s world narrowed down to their fight as he feinted with a bladed punch for Katsuki’s face. He shifted his target as Katsuki moved to block, aiming to rake his glove’s claws over Katsuki’s functional arm. If both arms were compromised, Katsuki’s quirk was no longer a threat. Nitroglycerin and the phantom stench of scorched flesh burned Izuku’s nose.

Katsuki clocked the movement and caught the claws with his bracer. Izuku wrenched their locked support gear down and to the side, creating an opening for a kick. As Izuku’s steel-toed boot grazed Katsuki’s chin, Katsuki fired off another explosion, catching Izuku on the right hip. They were thrown apart by an unexpected and much stronger second blast.

Izuku’s ears rang and vision swam as he staggered back to his feet, looking for his opponent and half expecting to find Dalika’s smirking face. It took him several seconds to register the situation. He breathed heavily and blinked as he lowered his guard. Ectoplasm had stepped between them and called off the fight. Katsuki’s left bracer had blown apart.

Izuku looked down at his claws, catching the sheen of pale liquid on one of the points. His claws had compromised the bracer’s sweat reservoir, and Katsuki’s explosion had ignited the fluid that leaked out. Izuku still couldn’t hear anything when Aizawa appeared to check him over. Aside from a large scorch mark on the right side of his costume, some bruises, and his hearing and disorientation Izuku was fine, and he said as much. Aizawa only raised an eyebrow at him and led him to Recovery Girl’s office.

A quick kiss had the world’s sound rushing back in and Izuku yawning and swaying in sudden exhaustion. Did her quirk also speed up the rate at which a body processed adrenaline? This felt like one hell of a crash. He was glad the heroine always had someone sit down on one of the beds before healing them.

“Is Katsuki okay?” he asked, still feeling a bit rattled and not quite right. Laying down sounded like a good idea.

“Yes,” Aizawa said, face unreadable as ever. “The Support department thankfully designed his bracers with stronger armoring on the inner lining to protect his forearms in case of catastrophic failure. He’s a little scratched up from shrapnel but otherwise fine.”

Izuku processed that as he finally caved and laid back on the infirmary bed. “Good. S’good.” Why was he so worn out all of a sudden? Had he been more hurt than he thought? He’d felt his bruises heal, and they hadn’t felt particularly extensive. Maybe his stamina still wasn’t up to snuff. He should probably up his training, maybe extend his morning runs.

He didn’t realize he was muttering until he heard a chuckle and felt a hand land in his hair. “Get some rest, Problem Child. You did good out there.”

Izuku hummed and let his eyes fall closed.

Chapter Text

Hisashi adjusted the straps of his backpack as he waited outside UA’s gate. After missing Izuku’s school Culture Festival, he’d taken extra precautions to ensure nothing interfered with their latest father-son plans. He’d even taken today off from his teaching job to make sure he’d arrive in time to pick up Izuku when his classes got out.

Fall camping trips became a tradition when they’d lived in California. There were a lot of good hiking trails and national parks a relatively short drive or bus ride away, and now that they were back in Hisashi’s old stomping grounds, he was determined to show his son some of the better camping spots. If those happened to coincide with his favorite mushroom-gathering sites, he knew Izuku wasn’t going to complain. He enjoyed cooking nearly as much as Hisashi did.

Of course, Hisashi and Izuku couldn’t be Midoriyas without something going wrong. This time it was Izuku having what sounded like a PTSD episode in the middle of a spar yesterday. With Katsuki. Because, of course, it was him. Izuku and Katsuki reminded Hisashi of oil and water. Fine when separate, didn’t mix well, and interacted explosively when heated. Hisashi huffed out a breath with more than a little smoke. He inhaled deeply and held it, counting to ten before letting it out with significantly less. The son of his wife’s best friend was extremely lucky that this time had been an actual accident and that Izuku hadn’t been seriously hurt.

Physically, anyway. Aizawa had assured him over the phone that Izuku would be getting an appointment with his therapist as soon as possible on Monday.

Hisashi was pulled from his thoughts by Aizawa arriving at the gate. The tired pro handed him his guest pass and let him in. “Eraserhead,” Hisashi greeted.

Aizawa gave him a sideways glance before leading the way to one of the walking paths. “Mixtape.”

Hisashi grimaced.

Aizawa huffed. “Don’t want your son’s classmates calling you by your official name?”

“Not unless you want to forfeit your share of the matsutake we bring back.”

A hum. “You drive a hard bargain.” They walked in silence for a minute before Aizawa spoke again, “Nezu already talked to you.”

“Yes. I’m aware of the…situation. The meeting’s this weekend?”

Aizawa nodded. “Nezu knows how to handle the Commission, but I’d keep Izuku away from the internet while you’re gone, in case things go south. UA will handle any fallout.”

Hisashi took a breath to say something probably derogatory of the HPSC, but a high-pitched and childish scream of glee interrupted him. Instead of heading toward the dorms, Aizawa had led Hisashi to one of the parking lots used for staff. It was mostly emptied of vehicles, but there was a large group of students. They were cheering on someone in a wheelchair zooming around the parking lot at incredible speed. Another person sliding on all fours kept pace beside them. Hisashi shot the teacher a questioning look.

Aizawa sighed in exasperation, but his eyes betrayed him. There was something fond or perhaps proud there.

A mop of familiar green curls approached them, and Hisashi wrested his attention away from the odd race between Aizawa’s friends(?) to pull his son into a tight hug. “Hey, kiddo. How’ve you been?”

“I’m doing great! My arm’s getting stronger, and Mei f-finished the new glove design for my costume. She even made a spare for civilian wear.” He held his left hand up to show off the black material that for all the world looked like a compression glove. Izuku opened and closed his hand a few times. Though the ring and pinky finger lagged a split second behind the others, they did have their full range of motion back.

If he listened closely, Hisashi could very faintly hear something mechanical whirring with each movement. He beamed at Izuku as he turned his son’s hand over to get a good look at the glove. “That’s amazing, kiddo! Remind me to save her an extra cut from our haul this weekend. You know, she might just be brilliant enough to keep up with you. Are you sure you don’t want to ask her out?”

“Daaaaadddd,” Izuku whined, pulling his hand away to cover his red face with both arms.

Hisashi laughed and ruffled Izuku’s hair. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave it alone. For now. Only because we have to get camp set up before nightfall.”

“R-right. My bag’s in my room.” Father and son walked off toward the dorms, but Izuku caught his dad glancing back at the chaos in the parking lot and decided to explain. “Oh! That’s Ingenium in the wheelchair and Crawler beside him. I-I think he’s a sidekick? Anyway, Kaminari had the idea of Ingenium giving Eri a r-ride, and Sero volunteered to tape them into the chair. For safety,” Izuku clarified.

Oh, Eri was the little girl from the hospital after the raid. “She’s doing well? I saw her smiling in that leaked video of your festival.”

Izuku gave a big, fond smile. “Y-yeah. She’s doing a lot better. She’s asking for things and speaking up more. We’ve discovered she absolutely loves apples. I actually w-wanted to ask if you still had that recipe for apple pie from back in L.A…”

Hisashi scoffed in mock offense. “What sort of chef do you take me for? I’ve got recipes for apple pie, apple turnover, apple danish, apple crisp, apple butter—though I doubt we’ll have time for that before we have to leave for the Hero Billboard. Apple, dried cranberries, and nuts also work nicely together for salad toppings if you’re still working on introducing her to healthy foods.”

The rest of the walk they discussed the lunch they intended to cook at UA before heading to Hisashi’s apartment in Tokyo. It was much closer than UA to the event center the Billboard Chart was meeting at this year. Izuku planned to shower and change into his costume there before heading over. He’d even gotten permission to return to UA on Monday so he could stay for the whole event. It only made sense when the train to Musutafu was going to stop running long before the festivities wound down.

Izuku retrieved his camping backpack—which was slightly smaller than Hisashi’s due to Hisashi having their tent and cooking supplies—and the two set out for the gates. Izuku waved and called goodbyes to the friends they passed along the way. Hisashi grinned at seeing his son genuinely connecting to classmates. That hadn’t happened back in the states or even here when Izuku was in middle school.

Hisashi also noticed how Izuku tensed up whenever they walked past some other students. Hisashi had been informed of the incident with the two (former) gen ed students. He hoped that was the beginning and end of any bullying Izuku faced at UA, but he decided to wait to ask until the campus was far behind them. There was plenty of time for that on the bus ride and hike out to Kessel Park.

Said bus ride passed with eagerly swapped stories and tales of odd cases they’d encountered. Hisashi supposed there was one benefit of the mixup with his license. He and his son had more to talk about now with casework. He imagined he’d be pretty lost if he didn’t know most of the procedures Izuku talked about from his internship with Nighteye.

By the time the sun started approaching the horizon, they were at the trailhead for Kessel national park. They cut it close, but with a brisk pace they made it to their destination and set up their tent and firepit before darkness swallowed the forest. They ate the sandwiches Hisashi had packed for tonight by firelight and turned in.

The next day saw them putting the finishing touches on their campsite before hiking into the woods with their camping knives and several paper bags. Hisashi led the way to the copse of trees that made this camping spot one of his favorites. The grove of old beech trees was one of the furthest south that he’d found, and therefore one of the easiest to reach from Musutafu. Why were beech trees so important?

“Nameko!” Izuku called, spotting the first cluster of slimy, orange caps on a fallen trunk.

Hisashi laughed and called back, “Don’t forget to keep an eye out for enokitake. They like beech too, and they’ll look a little different than what you see in the store.”

Izuku nodded without looking up from where he carefully separated the nameko mushrooms from the bark beneath. “Brown with larger caps and shorter stems, right?”

“Yep, though sometimes they’ll have a pink or orange tint,” Hisashi added absentmindedly. Most of his attention was focused on a large maitake he’d spotted halfway up one of the larger beech trees. Those were less common this late in the year, and they were usually lower. He hadn’t expected to find any until maybe when they passed the oak grove on the way to the red pines. After a bit of debate, he started climbing. “Hey, Izuku, spot me while I get this one?”

Izuku looked up and grinned when he saw what Hisashi was after. “Oh, that’s a big one.” He slipped the last nameko into its paper bag before opening a new one and standing to one side of the tree Hisashi was climbing. “Toss it down?”

“Mhm.” Hisashi positioned himself where he’d have one hand free to saw at the base of the polypore mushroom. Hisashi ended up taking it off in two parts. Izuku carefully caught each half when it broke free and fell.

They kept up this pattern of mushroom hunting and harvesting most of the day, moving from one part of the forest to the next. Izuku pointed out poisonous plants along the way; apparently, Sensei had gotten him a book about those for his birthday. They hit up the red pines last to keep the matsutake they found fresh as long as possible. When they returned to camp midafternoon they were famished and laden with filled paper bags. The two fell into a practiced rhythm of preparing a meal with Izuku fetching and boiling the water and Hisashi cleaning and cutting some of the mushrooms they’d collected along with the dried ingredients he’d packed.

They enjoyed their makeshift ramen and smoked salmon while listening to the forest around them. It was a nice break from all the hustle and bustle of the city. As their food dwindled, Hisashi sighed. He didn’t want to interrupt this peace, but there were a few things he needed to discuss with Izuku.

“Izuku?”

Izuku slurped the noodles he was in the process of eating and turned to look at Hisashi.

“I know about the incident with the gen ed kids. How is school really?”

Izuku froze with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. After a moment he lowered them back to his bowl. “It’s been good aside from that. No o-one else has tried anything. Sure, there are looks and whispers, but I’ve always had to deal with those.”

Hisashi wished that his son wasn’t so used to them. “And your class?”

Izuku stared into his bowl as he fiddled with his chopsticks. “They’re nice, but most try to ‘go easy on me’ when we’re paired up for practicals.” He brightened a little as he continued, “Think I got through to some of them in sparring yesterday.”

Hisashi sipped some of his broth before saying, “That’s good. Nighteye treating you well?”

Izuku actually smiled. “H-he seems to value my input and analysis since the raid, and as fun as the behind-the-scenes work is, I can’t wait to get back to actual patrols.”

Hisashi bit his lip and resisted the urge to caution Izuku about that. Hopefully, Nezu was going to settle everything, and Izuku never needed to know how close he came to…

“Oh!” Izuku perked up. “Sensei wanted me to say hi.”

Hisashi blinked. “Oh yeah. I forgot you got to see him at Tartarus. That must have been weird.”

“You have no idea.” Izuku happily recounted the visit, and Hisashi listened with rapt attention, even if he’d already heard part of the story the day after Izuku visited his old friend. At the end, Izuku paused, clearly debating something. Finally, he sighed and picked up another mouthful of noodles. “How’s your class doing?”

Hisashi recognized a topic change when he saw one. He wasn’t sure what Izuku was trying to avoid though. He supposed they could use a break from the serious topics. “Well, they certainly get into less trouble than your class, though not for lack of trying.”

He talked about his class and their continued ability to amaze him (not always in a good way). Eventually, he did bring their talk back around to what he’d really wanted to say. “You’re still determined to be a hero, right? To help people whenever they need it?”

Izuku gave him a searching look. “Y-yeah. More than ever.”

Hisashi nodded to himself. “Good. Just keep in mind that you don’t need a license for that. You were a hero long before joining that course at UA.”

Izuku smiled and relaxed. “Sure thing, Dad.”

Hisashi hoped that smile would stay for a long time yet. Ignoring the dread in his gut, he ruffled Izuku’s hair and stood up. “Come on, let’s clean up. We should have enough time to hike up to this ridge that gives an amazing view of the valley and Mt. Fuji in the distance. It’s where I proposed to Inko.”

---

“Chanto nabe’s ready!” Izuku called from the kitchen, smiling as his classmates all rushed to line up. Izuku and his dad had decided on the dish on their way back to town. The nameko mushrooms they’d collected were likely to be the first to spoil given their slimy coating, but that coating also made them ideal for a stew dish like this. Plus, chanto nabe had a little bit of something for everyone.

“Thanks, Midoriya, Midoriya-san!” several of Izuku’s classmates called as they served themselves from the large pot on the stove.

Izuku and Hisashi had already moved on to putting the finishing touches on the apple crisp. After setting it in the oven to bake they got their own meals. Izuku sat with his friends while Hisashi moved to sit with Aizawa and a few of the other teachers who were talking in hushed voices about something. When did Lunch Rush get here? Wait, Lunch Rush had his mask off?! Izuku studied the hero with wide eyes until Iida elbowed him.

“Midoriya, it’s rude to stare.”

Izuku stuttered out an apology and stuffed a piece of konnyaku in his mouth.

Uraraka laughed around a mouthful of food, and Todoroki patted her on the back awkwardly when she choked. Hitoshi rolled his eyes at their antics and asked, “Excited for tonight?”

Izuku—not wanting to meet the same fate as Uraraka—swallowed carefully before replying, “Yes! I’ve already set aside a new notebook for it, and packed my autograph book. This is going to be amazing!”

Todoroki gave him an eloquently skeptical eyebrow raise.

“Yes, I know. I’ll stay out of Endeavor’s way. He doesn’t ‘do’ autographs anyway. So, there’s no point in cornering him.”

“Damn, Zuku,” Hitoshi said with a teasing smirk. “Making it sound like a hitlist there.”

“Shin!”

Izuku enjoyed spending time with his friends, but all too soon the apple crisp was done, and it was time to go. Eri insisted on giving Izuku and his dad a hug as a thank you for the “yummy crisp.” Izuku prided himself on the picture he got of Hisashi flustered and holding Eri, who’d wrapped her arms around his neck.

While Hisashi talked to the teachers and tried (unsuccessfully) to pry himself free of Eri, Izuku took a bowl of chanto nabe and went to fetch his costume case from Mei. If he knew her, she still had it in the Development Studio tweaking some setting or other. Sure enough, he found his friend hunched over a computer with his helmet hooked up to it by several wires. “Mei, I brought you some lunch. You’ll have to head over to the 1-A dorm if you want dessert though.”

Mei finished typing out a line of code before turning to face him. “Izukun! Welcome back. How was the camping trip?” she asked as she took the bowl from him. She inhaled the steam rising off of it and hummed. “Smells good.”

Izuku told her about the trip as she ate with one hand and finished her program with the other. By the time he’d caught her up, she had his helmet disconnected and ready to go. “Thanks a ton, Mei,” he said as he put the helmet in his costume case and closed it. “I’ll be sure to extol your brilliant work when I get compliments on my costume at the event.”

Mei let out a single laugh, loud and genuine. “You do that, Izukun. Have fun, but not too much. Don’t go setting off any explosions without me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Mei. See ya.” He waved a goodbye as he left the lab. He readjusted his backpack’s shoulder straps as he walked, wishing he’d had time to unpack before needing to leave again. Oh well, at least he already had all of his toiletries in his backpack, even if it did have a lot of extra weight from his camping gear too. No number of inconveniences could dampen his excitement for tonight.

Izuku patted his cargo shorts pocket to make sure he had his pass and wallet. Thus assured he had everything, he headed for the gate once more.

Chapter Text

The Hero Billboard Chart event was, in a word, loud. There were reporters and cameras everywhere. Izuku had arrived on foot, and he was immediately grateful for that. The reporters seemed mostly focused on the line of limousines. Still, Izuku waited for one of the better-known heroes to step from their vehicle before attempting to make his approach with his visor darkened enough to hide his face. He slipped past the throng and presented his pass to the guard at the front door. The guard inspected the pass, then motioned him in.

Once inside, Izuku breathed a sigh of relief and undid the tinting on his helmet. Then he really took in the venue. “Wow…” The reception hall was huge, and as he wandered into the stadium to find a seat, he found it equally larger than life. Then again, he supposed it had to be. All previous years, the HPSC had the Number One hero come to give a speech in person. This year they intended to have all of the top ten on stage at once.

Izuku almost gave himself whiplash looking around at all the heroes in costume, and he just avoided tripping as he took the stairs down halfway. He found a spot near the center of the seating and settled in with his notebook. Izuku activated a feature of his helmet he hadn’t gotten to test yet: internal soundproofing. There! Now he didn’t have to worry about bothering any of the heroes with hearing enhancement if he started mumbling while writing.

And so started the notetaking. There were so many heroes he’d never seen in person or heard of at all! Izuku wrote and sketched as fast as he could, swapping hands whenever one of them cramped, though he tried to do all of his sketches with his right hand. He was mostly ambidextrous at this point, but his linework was still neater with his right hand.

He pretended not to notice the occasional look thrown his way, mostly from the heroes local to Tokyo and Musutafu. The sideways looks and whispers that were definitely about him had him shrinking a little in his seat. Did everyone know what had happened to him, or was this about him knowing All for One? Izuku could have sworn the latter was classified to some degree, and most of these heroes weren’t in the top 50. Izuku did his best to ignore them.

The stadium seating quickly filled up, and Izuku startled when someone tapped him on the shoulder. “Yo, Deku.”

He looked up, surprised to find Rocklock and Fatgum claiming the seats to his left. Izuku turned off his helmet’s soundproofing and waved. “Hi!”

Rocklock nodded at him. “Good to see you back in costume, kid. How you holding up?”

“I-I’m doing okay. It’ll take more than one bullet to keep me down,” he said with a strained grin.

“That’s the spirit!” Fatgum said, a smile splitting his face.

Izuku nodded and got back to sketching a heroine in a costume that reminded him of a lioness. He was pretty sure he’d seen her on the news at some point, though he couldn’t put a name to her face. He must have seen her after he lost his quirk.

Soon enough the event started. The president of the HPSC gave a speech, then the hostess introduced each of the heroes on stage. As each hero imparted some words of wisdom or expressed their gratitude for the support, Izuku sketched the lineup. However, when he got to Hawks, he noticed the odd assortment of facial expressions the young hero was going through at his colleague’s words. How was Izuku supposed to draw the man’s face when he couldn’t settle on one? Izuku blinked out the command for his helmet to zoom in.

Then Hawks gave his impromptu speech, and Izuku got a front-row seat to how the Number Two hero’s facial expression stayed still as stone the whole time. Izuku shifted uneasily. Hawks had a point about the people needing something actually heroic right now over some publicity fluff piece, but none of his smiles reached his eyes. Izuku couldn’t read him at all and was thoroughly unsettled by that fact.

Thankfully, Endeavor didn’t mince words for his part, and the main event wrapped up quickly. Other awards were handed out and addresses delivered, but Izuku only paid half attention as he sketched out Hawk’s faux-carefree face. By the time they were dismissed, he was eager to get up and move. He politely excused himself from Rocklock and Fatgum and disappeared into the crowd.

Eventually, he found his way to the buffet tables at one end of the hall and decided to treat himself. The crowd here wasn’t quite as thick, and Izuku took his time perusing the dishes on offer, looking for things he’d never tried. As he debated sampling the kamanote or the kurage he heard laughter approaching behind him. He stepped aside to pick up a kusaya with a set of tongs instead. The man and woman—reporters he could now tell by their badges—continued talking as if he weren’t there.

“Your station ran a piece on the history of Trigger in Japan recently, right?” the lady with baby blue hair asked.

“Yes,” the second reporter, a gentleman with mixed red and orange hair, said. “You have no idea how awful it was having to interview the junkies in lockup. Trigger messes with their heads. Or well, the things its cut with do. It’s been years since they had any, and a few of them still don’t have their heads on straight.”

“Yikes. Glad that stuff’s on the decline again since the Shie Hassaikai bust. They were one of the only Japanese producers.”

“Mhm. Of, course, there’s still the stuff getting smuggled in from America and China, but the Hassaikai had more than half the market in the Tokyo area. I’m surprised that raid wasn’t a lot messier than it was. You’d think they’d be more cautious with a known Trigger producer.”

“Well, they did have Ryukyu there,” the blue-haired lady pointed out. “Most people would think someone from the top ten was overkill for a yakuza raid.”

The gentleman scoffed. “Hardly. They relied too heavily on her reputation and that underground hero’s. The one with the quirk-stopping quirk? They underestimated their targets and got several minors and pros hospitalized for it.”

“At least there were no fatalities. Didn’t someone get shot with one of those bullets though?”

“Yeah. Poor kid. His career’s over before it even began.”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

The gentleman paused for a moment before cursing under his breath. “Forget I said anything. That story doesn’t air for another hour.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not like I’ll steal it with such a short time frame.”

The man sighed. “Fine. Only because we’re friends. HPSC’s pulling the kid’s license ‘until he’s better,’” the man said, making air quotes with the hand not holding his plate. “You and I both know ‘better’ isn’t going to happen. Not with...”

Izuku stumbled away from the buffet table, feeling suddenly sick. Things were finally getting better. Why was this happening now? How many of the people here knew? Had he really pissed off the HPSC so much that they wanted to get rid of him quietly? What his dad had said…did he know? Everything was too loud and too close. Izuku looked around frantically for somewhere to get away. He followed a sign for the restrooms and kept going when he saw the line there. Why were there so many people? A stairwell! That was perfect.

He slammed into the push bar and gasped for air in the sudden silence. His breaths echoed off the concrete and metal, but he was blessedly alone. He stumbled up the stairs, wanting to put some distance between himself and the door before he started crying. He couldn’t bear the thought of anyone seeing him right now. He didn’t realize he’d zoned out until he reached the top of the stairs and found a door labeled “Roof Access.” Without really thinking about it, he picked the lock and let himself out.

The wind whipped around him as he let the door swing closed behind him. Then he sank down to the concrete with the door at his back. He yanked his helmet off, but it didn’t make it any easier to breathe. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there trying to breathe through tears and panic and a maelstrom of why, but he eventually staggered to his feet and glanced over the roof’s edge. Limousines were lining back up at the entrance to take their employers away. How long had he been up here?

“Bout an hour and a half,” a nonchalant voice said behind him.

Izuku nearly jumped out of his skin. Turning around, he found Hawks perched on the top of the housing for the roof access door.

“Honestly, I was starting to get worried. Crying kid on a rooftop doesn’t paint a good picture, you know?” Two red feathers looped around to hover between Izuku and the ledge he’d been looking over. “How about we step away from the edge?”

Izuku laughed nervously as he complied. “I w-wasn’t going to! I only jump off of buildings when freerunning.”

Hawks raised an eyebrow at Izuku.

Okay, yeah, that didn’t sound good even to Izuku. Why did he say that? Must have been some panic attack if his brain-to-mouth filter was shot.

Once Izuku was a more comfortable distance away from the edge, Hawks slipped off the housing to drop onto the rooftop next to Izuku. “So, how’d a kid swing tickets for this thing anyway? You can’t be old enough to have a license with those baby cheeks,” the hero pointed out.

Izuku was well aware that Hawks was still treating him like a jump risk with his easy, reassuring tone and the offered distraction. Izuku could see those feathers hovering out of the corner of his eye between him and the edge. He appreciated the concern, really, but Hawks still made him a little uncomfortable. Not being able to read someone was dangerous. He studied the hero’s face now and saw just a hint of uncertainty and concern in his eyes that seemed genuine, even if there was a fake, “put traumatized citizens at ease” smile underneath those eyes.

Izuku let out a long breath and sat back down on the rooftop. “The ticket was a birthday present. All Might didn’t want to come in person and upstage everyone who was actually getting ranked, but he also didn’t want to let the ticket go to waste. So…” Izuku shrugged.

Hawks surprised Izuku by plopping down next to him. He partially extended a wing behind Izuku’s back, shielding him from the wind a little. “Huh. Wouldn’t have expected that answer. So, you’re from UA?”

“Y-yeah. Midoriya Izuku, hero name: Deku. O-or…it was.” Izuku pulled out his phone to check the news. Maybe he’d just heard wrong? He somehow really doubted it.

Aaaand. Yep. There was the news story blasted all across the internet and every hero forum. Great. Just peachy.

Hawks leaned closer to look at Izuku’s screen over his shoulder and hissed sympathetically. “Wow, that sucks. Talk about adding insult to injury. Hey! You could always go vigilante. You know, since you don’t have a quirk. Technically you can’t get charged with vigilantism without one of those,” he added with a cheeky grin.

Izuku laughed. Maybe Hawks wasn’t so bad after all. “Th-thanks. I needed that.” Izuku scrubbed at his eyes. They’d started leaking again. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Izuku thought of something. “Back when I f-first got out of the hospital, Nezu offered to give me a l-leave of absence from school if things ever got to be too much. A break’s starting to s-sound kinda nice.” Izuku wasn’t sure he could face all of his friends and classmates yet. He could just imagine their outrage and pity. And Katsuki…

“Well, if that hella panic attack doesn’t qualify as ‘too much’ I’m not sure anything does,” Hawks offered helpfully.

Izuku snorted. “Y-yeah…” He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “I just…” He sighed. “I dunno.”

“And that’s alright. You just had a load of crap dumped on you. No one can be expected to figure all that out in what, two hours? Even I’d need at least four,” Hawks said with a playful wink. “But seriously, take your time, since you have the opportunity. Go…date or hang out with friends or whatever it is normal teens do.”

Izuku hummed. “Well, one thing’s for s-sure. I can’t stay here all night.” Izuku stood and glanced at the edge again. “What do you think the chances of the media jumping me as s-soon as I step out that door are?” At this point, Izuku just wanted to leave.

Hawks frowned and tilted his head. “Definitely not in your favor. Want me to drop you off in the alley?” He pointed to a different side of the roof.

Izuku grinned and nodded tiredly. He picked up his helmet and slipped it on. In a tone nearly as deadpan as Aizawa, Izuku said, “Ready for liftoff, captain.”

This time Hawks laughed. “Ah, kid, never change.”

Being lowered to the ground by telekinetically controlled feathers was…an experience. Izuku knew in the back of his mind that he’d geek out about it later. Right now, he couldn’t muster much emotion for anything. He was probably still in shock, he thought as he walked. He should probably try to make it home before…

He choked on a sob. Right, there it was. Where was home anymore? His dad’s apartment at Tokyo Culinary School? Izuku’s dorm room at UA? The ratty old couch and the game system and zaisu at the Shigarakis’ dingy apartment came to mind. A wave of homesickness washed over him, and he drowned in it.

He didn’t recall much of the walk back to his dad’s apartment, but by the time he got there, he had no tears left. As he unlocked the door and stepped inside, he paused at the genkan. If he took a break from UA, where would he even go? His dad’s apartment was a one-bedroom thing. Izuku supposed he could sleep on the sofa, but that felt like imposing. He walked to where his costume case sat beside said sofa and started quietly stripping off the hero suit. His dad’s snores echoed from the bedroom.

Could he stay at UA and go back to how things were when he was on medical leave? The concerned faces of his friends flashed behind his eyelids. Izuku stifled another sob. No, he didn’t think he could do that. Everyone was going to be so worried about him, and there was nowhere to get away from it on campus. He wasn’t good at hiding how upset he was, and knowing his friends, they were going to look for him anytime he disappeared just to make sure he was okay.

Right now, he wanted some space. He wanted things to go back to normal. He wanted…

Izuku stared at the utility belt in his hands. The GPS beacon hung there innocently. Temptingly. Tomura did say that he was always welcome…

Izuku blinked the tears from his eyes as he unhooked the GPS from the belt and swallowed. It wasn’t going to be forever. Just long enough to get his bearings and figure out what to do next. He just…needed a break. Away from all the pitying looks and outrage on his behalf (if there was any outrage).

Mind made up, Izuku emptied the pockets of his utility belt, taking out the things that didn’t technically qualify as support gear—his lock picks, lighter, pocket notebooks, pens, and water bottle. He debated the capture tape for a minute before deciding to leave it. He did take all of his first aid supplies though and his Stain knife. He packed his costume into its case carefully and closed the latch. He ran his hand over the case one last time before turning away. He wasn’t going to need it for a long while if the Commission had anything to say about it.

Next was his backpack. He swapped out his dirty clothes for clean sets from the box of his things Dad hadn’t put into storage. He dug through the box until he found his winter coat. He was going to need that soon. It hadn’t snowed yet, but knowing Izuku’s luck? After a moment’s thought, he grabbed his spare coat too. Just to be safe.

Izuku reluctantly removed his mushroom and plant field guides from his bag (he had most of the edible ones memorized anyway), but decided to keep the little book on toxic plants from Sensei in there, if only because it was bound to wind up “lost” in evidence lockup if anyone found it after he was gone. He refilled his water bottle and stocked up on energy and granola bars from his dad’s kitchen. (He kept them for snacks between classes.)

After a last once over, Izuku decided he had everything. Now for the hard part. Izuku sighed as he opened his texting app. He ignored the handful of unread messages from Hitoshi and Tokoyami—1-A’s resident insomniacs had probably seen the news already—and clicked on Nezu’s contact. “Think I’m going to take you up on that offer, Nezu. Not sure how long I need, but I’ll be back.” He hit send.

Izuku left his phone to one side and picked up his pocket notebook. He needed to leave Dad a note too. “I’m taking Nezu up on his offer for a break from school. Going to stay with a friend for a while. I’ll be back.”

Izuku turned the GPS beacon over in his hands, wondering how this worked with Kurogiri out of the picture. He slipped his backpack on and stood, twisting the device until it clicked and lit up blue. Nothing else happened.

Well, that was anticlimactic.

Then Izuku’s phone buzzed. He stared at the incoming call from an unknown number for a few rings before picking up. That timing wasn’t a coincidence, was it?

“Hello?”

“Ah, Young Midoriya,” a familiar voice said. Dr. Tsubasa. “I was beginning to wonder if you were hurt with how long you took to pick up.”

“Oh. Uh, I’m not hurt,” Izuku said, sniffing.

“So I gathered. You’re finally taking Tomura up on his offer?”

“Y-yes. At le—”

“Good, good. You have everything you need on your person right now?”

“Um, yes?”

“Excellent. Now set your phone down and step away from it.” And Dr. Tsubasa hung up on him.

Izuku stared at his phone for a second before sighing and setting his phone down. What did the doctor even mean by that?

Izuku only had a moment to wonder before something crept up the back of his throat. He choked and tried to cough up whatever it was, but the black sludge that came out of his mouth defied gravity. Rather than pool on the floor, it rapidly spread across his skin and clothes. Izuku’s world fell away.

Chapter Text

Tomura was tired. Three hours of sleep every two days did that to a person after a while, but Tomura couldn’t dream of complaining. With each day that passed fighting Gigantomachia, Tomura’s excitement mounted. If Gigantomachia was this strong when he was trying to get Tomura to prove himself, how strong could he be once fully devoted to their cause and working with them?

And they could do it. Tomura knew they could. Gigantomachia wasn’t unbeatable; he just had an obscene amount of HP. He wished the League had the chance to level grind before fighting him, but this was a timed encounter. They’d had to move quickly to get to the area Kurogiri was captured in—where they knew Gigantomachia had been at the time. Before they could even consider how to start searching the area, the behemoth of a man found them instead.

“Why?! Why are you so weak?!”

Tomura rolled his eyes at the giant’s continued wails. Couldn’t this NPC get some new dialogue options? He’d had nothing different to say in the two and a half weeks since they’d started fighting.

“Handyman, we’re all set!” Toga called from somewhere to Tomura’s left.

Tomura smirked and ducked back out of sight for one of Twice’s clones of him to give him a break. The last time Gigantomachia took a nap, Tomura and the League had stayed awake and prepared a trap. Tomura had long since learned that when a boss had too much HP to face head-on, he needed to look for ways to weaken him through indirect means. They’d lost their party’s status effectors at the UA Summer Camp, but when Mr. Compress reported spotting a lake and river a few kilometers away, Tomura had gotten an idea. Mr. Compress and a Tomura clone had been hard at work for about a day, and now the trap was set.

Tomura smiled as he bolted in the direction Toga had called from. It was after midnight, but Dabi had set fires periodically to keep them on track and provide some lighting. Gigantomachia saw the real Tomura flee and made quick work of the clone, crushing it in one hand before stomping after the League’s leader.

“Eyes on me, big guy,” Tomura said under his breath as he ran. He finally broke from the forest to see the river and the mound of boulders that marked the trap. A Mr. Compress clone was waiting for him as planned. He raced for the summon and took a deep breath before the clone tapped him on the shoulder. The heavy pressure and silence of being compressed into a marble washed over him, and Tomura waited. A few seconds later the pressure lifted, and Tomura tucked into a roll as he landed on the far side of the pitfall his team had made.

It was a simple thing, but deep enough to hopefully trap Gigantomachia. With any luck, the oversized gorilla was as densely muscled as the real thing and wasn’t up for a sudden swim. Tomura blamed Izuku for knowing that great apes couldn’t swim because their muscle density was high enough to make them sink in water rather than float like humans. That kid went down too many internet rabbit holes when he was bored; then Tomura ended up hearing all about whatever he’d found the next time they played Quest Conquerors. Some American hero named Kong had sparked that particular rant. Tomura sighed as he stared at the walking catastrophe breaking a trail through the trees behind him. He missed those days.

The Compress clone across the pitfall from him crouched behind one of the boulders on his side to stay out of sight, and Tomura took a few steps to the right and set four fingers on the base of a second set of boulders. This one marked the channel Compress and clone Tomura had dug from the lake to here. It was showtime.

Gigantomachia broke from the trees with a roar and looked around for a second before spotting Tomura’s silhouette against the fire set behind him. The area between them was left dark on purpose. With all the fire in the surrounding wood, any night vision one of the giant’s multiple, unknown quirks might have given him was ruined, and the smoke helped to mask the scent of freshly turned soil.

The giant rushed forward with more speed than anyone his size had any business possessing, but that speed meant he didn’t have time to stop when one foot met empty air. Clone Compress compressed one of the key boulders on his side, causing the whole pile to give way and allow water from the river to rush into the pit. Tomura disintegrated the entire pile on his side, smiling in satisfaction as the giant fell.

The man had hardly gotten back to his feet at the bottom of the three-story deep sinkhole when he was bombarded by a rockslide and two waterfalls. Dabi and the real Compress stepped from their hiding places and approached the edge of the pit. Dabi threw a stream of flame down into the hole to heat the water, and the two Compresses started throwing in their marbled stores of dirt from digging the pit, turning the whole thing into a mess of boiling mud. Just because the guy seemed immune to fire didn’t mean being submerged in boiling liquid couldn’t hurt him. That fun caveat to fire immunity came partially from Dabi’s burning his mouth on tea back at the bar and partially from Izuku’s notes on Todoroki Shoto.

Tomura cackled at the frustrated roars from within the pit. “Let’s see him get out of…that…” The ground around them rolled and broke apart as the giant became even bigger, suddenly much, much taller than their pitfall was deep, even if he was coated in steaming and still bubbling mud. “Oh, come on! Who gives a giant a gigantification quirk?!”

“Abort!” Dabi called, setting a wall of fire between them and Gigantomachia.

Tomura happily followed on Dabi’s heels. This figured. They finally did some real damage, but instead of beating the boss, they triggered a second form. They had no way of knowing if this was even his final form! How many quirks had Sensei given his bodyguard?

Tomura seethed as Gigantomachia laughed. The giant was laughing at them. Tomura scratched at his neck as he fled.

“You tricked me!” Gigantomachia called from behind them, not yet giving chase. “You’re smart, but a king must inspire dread and be strong too!”

Toga popped out of the woodwork next to Tomura as she giggled. “Hey, he didn’t say a king needed to be admired this time! Does that mean you finally met one of his criteria?”

Tomura groaned. One quality ticked off, two to go. That implied at least two more forms if Tomura’s luck held. Lovely.

The ground behind them shook as Gigantomachia started running after them. The shaking was much worse this time with the giant’s tenfold mass. Dabi and Toga were knocked off their feet with the first, booming footfall. Tomura snatched the back of Toga’s coat with a four-fingered grip and hauled her back to her feet as Compress helped Dabi.

Damn it! They needed to fall back and make a new plan, but Gigantomachia could catch up to them faster in this form. Tomura hissed and crouched to run his fingers along the ground on either side of him as he ran, focusing on his rage to fuel his quirk. Massive cracks shot through the ground behind him as Decay greedily ate through soil, trees, and stone, throwing a massive dust cloud into the air. He fleetingly wondered if the giant was still susceptible to lung damage from inhaled debris. He didn’t really want to kill Sensei’s bodyguard. That would make this whole miserable fight pointless.

Thankfully, Gigantomachia broke off pursuit to avoid the still spreading region of decay. That bought them some breathing room. At least for a few minutes. Ugh. Tomura’s muscles and eyes ached.

He realized a headache was starting up too when static assaulted his ear. He grimaced and put a hand to the communication device Daruma had given everyone in the League before the whole Gigantomachia fight started. “What do you want, Doctor? We’re kinda in the middle of something.”

“Don’t worry; I’ve distracted Gigantomachia for the time being. Congratulations are in order for pulling off that trap. You actually forced him to take you seriously.”

Tomura ground his teeth, knowing the Doctor had to have some ulterior reason for calling. The scientist didn’t do pointless gloating. “And?”

“And I thought you’d like to know you have a guest incoming.”

“Guest? Who—” Tomura stopped as a mass of black liquid burst into existence right in front of him. It expanded to roughly the size of a person before starting to break apart. Tomura gaped at the familiar mop of green curls before him. The boy gagged and coughed as the last of the liquid dissipated. “Izuku?”

The boy’s head whipped up to face him. Izuku’s eyes were swollen, his cheeks tear-stained, and his shoulders drooping. “T-Tomura?” Izuku’s voice cracked as he spoke.

Something about Izuku screamed “tired” in a way that made Tomura bristle. Izuku hadn’t had that look since they were both kids, when Sensei brought Izuku home from the hospital. Who did this? “Yeah, it’s me, pipsqueak.”

And there were the Izuku waterworks. Tomura braced himself as he was tackled into a tight hug. Tomura hugged him back and glanced around at Dabi, Toga, and Compress who mostly looked confused. Well, Toga was excited and bouncing up and down too, but that was pretty normal for her.

Tomura twitched as the static returned to his ear again. “I’ll give you all an hour to get Young Midoriya back to your camp before setting Gigantomachia on your trail again. The boy claimed he wasn’t injured, but I’d advise you to have someone keep an eye on him.” With that cryptic message, the line went dead.

“Come on, Izuku,” Tomura said, nudging Izuku’s shoulder. “Camp’s this way. We gotta get moving.”

Izuku silently nodded and released Tomura. Oof, that kid had beefed up a bit. Tomura might have some bruises now. Tomura rubbed at the left side of his chest and set off at a fast walk. He waited until he saw Izuku fall into step beside him before quickening the pace to a jog. There was no need to run with Machia otherwise occupied. He’d need the energy later.

Speaking of energy, Izuku was flagging hard about halfway back. Tomura slowed the pace a little after the second time Izuku tripped. The kid looked dead on his feet. Izuku shot him a hollow grin and adjusted to the new pace.

The others appeared to have heard the Doctor’s message too, if the freshly relit campfire and cooking food when they stumbled back into camp were anything to go by. Tomura pushed Izuku to sit down next to the fire and joined him as the others sprawled on the ground nearby. “Alright, pipsqueak, spill. Why’d you finally take me up on my offer? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to see you, but…”

Izuku grimaced and sighed. “Anyone have a phone w-with bars?” Compress and Twice whipped phones out of hidden pockets, and Dabi casually waved his in the air above where he’d laid down on the ground. “Check the news.”

“Which site?” Compress asked, already tapping away.

“A-any of them.” Izuku rubbed at his eyes and shrugged off his…camping backpack. Why his camping backpack? How much planning went into Izuku’s departure?

Magne held up a bowl of stew. “When was the last time you ate, kid?”

Izuku frowned and narrowed his eyes in thought. “Lunch.” The bowl was promptly shoved into his hands. Izuku stared at it, startled, for a moment before his lips twitched in the faintest of grins. “Thanks.”

Magne just hummed and went back to distributing bowls to the others who’d been fighting.

The quiet was broken by a sharp inhale from Compress. “Oh my.”

Izuku visibly wilted as the phone was passed around. Tomura was annoyed that he was the last to see it, but he understood why when he read the headline. “Now Quirkless UA Student’s Provisional License Suspended.” Tomura quickly handed Compress’s phone off before he could Decay it. He stood and started pacing, cursing hero society and their bigotry.

Izuku murmured something, and Tomura stilled. “Couldn’t hear you.”

Izuku didn’t look up from his now-empty bowl as he said a little louder, “Pretty s-sure it was because of my connection to S-Sensei. They weren’t nice w-when I visited Tartarus either.”

Izuku’s connection to Sensei…and Tomura. A nauseating mix of guilt, protective rage, and hate boiled in Tomura’s chest.

Dabi barked a bitter laugh. “That tracks. They have plenty of monsters on their payroll, but a kid being friends with one that isn’t? Clearly, you’re a threat.”

The corner of Izuku’s mouth twitched.

Twice chimed in with his own two cents. “You didn’t deserve this. Well, screw them too!”

Toga plopped down right next to Izuku and clung to him like a disgusting barnacle. “Does this mean you’re joining us? Oh, we’re going to have so much fun! Well, once we finish fighting Gigantomachia.”

Izuku leaned slightly away from Toga, but seemed too worn out to be embarrassed by the girl’s proximity. “F-for now. I just…” He ran a hand over his face. “I need a break, t-time to figure things out. Being a hero w-was always my goal, even before Sensei gave me my q-quirk. I just…if that’s gone, w-what’s left for me?”

None of the Leaguers bothered to ask about him retesting. If the Commission went through the trouble of actively removing his license, like hell were they going to give him another. Tomura snarled and shoved Toga off of Izuku to pull his old friend into another hug. He shot Toga a smug grin when Izuku melted into it. She pouted and stuck her tongue out at him. “If society and the heroes can’t see your value because of one bullet and a grudge, then it’s their loss. You’re my Player Two, and you’ll always have a place here, whatever you decide to do.”

“Thanks, Tomura,” Izuku murmured, relaxing against him.

Spinner coughed and pointed at Twice’s phone, which had a timer counting down. Only twenty minutes left before Gigantomachia came after them again. Tomura sighed and shook Izuku awake from where he’d started dozing. “Find somewhere to sleep. I have a boss battle to get back to.”

Izuku’s eyebrows scrunched up as his half-asleep brain tried to process that. Then he yawned and seemed to give up. Tomura watched as his best friend pulled a sleeping bag and a coat out of his backpack and curl up inside both only a meter from where he’d been sitting.

Assured Izuku was safe and resting, Tomura motioned for Spinner, Magne, and Twice to follow him. It was their turn to fight now. Dabi, Compress, and Toga could hold down the camp and keep an eye on Izuku while they rested. Before walking out of camp, Tomura turned around and leveled a warning finger at Toga. “No stabbing Izuku.”

Toga pouted and put her knife away. “I only wanted a taste…”

“Consent is important, dear,” Magne said, patting Toga’s head with her prosthetic arm as she moved to join Tomura.

Toga pouted and settled for sitting on the ground next to Izuku as she took stock of their supplies. Somewhat assured Izuku would survive the night, Tomura led his group away. He should be in high spirits. His best friend had finally joined him willingly, but…Tomura glanced back over his shoulder and sighed. He hated that Izuku had to be so…destroyed to turn to him.

Tomura ground his teeth and steeled his nerves for another bout of fighting someone overpowered while underleveled. He had faced worse odds with Izuku at his side. First, they had to defeat Gigantomachia. With his (and the Doctor’s) support, Tomura’s goal was one step closer. This world that infuriated Tomura, that left kids like him and Izuku—and Spinner and Toga—abused and abandoned, was going down. It was going to either bend to his will or be turned to dust. Just like he promised the Doctor.

He’d also made a promise to his friends. What they loved was safe. After all, it was only fair when Tomura planned to spare the people important to him: Sensei, Kurogiri, Izuku, Midoriya, the League. They were his real family. The hands gripping him felt heavier as he thought about the memories he’d been getting back recently, the memories attached to those hands. One family threw him away, and he dusted them. His family now accepted him despite knowing his quirk and all his other hang-ups. Tomura’s smile behind Father was a twisted thing as he contemplated the irony. Father had wanted him to have nothing to do with heroes, and now here he was one of the most feared villains in Japan.

They’d tried to hold him back, beat him down, tell him that the way he was treated was fine and normal. It was no surprise that he’d snapped.

And now the cycle had repeated with his best friend. Tomura felt his stomach twist at the thought. Tomura had had Sensei and Kurogiri when his world crumbled into dust. In turn, Tomura had been there when Izuku’s fell apart six years ago (before his dad had shown up), and he was here again now.

Twice’s phone chirped an alarm, and a crash sounded in the distance. “Round nine and a half, here we go! I don’t wanna die!”

Tomura massaged sore fingers as they moved, keeping an eye out for Gigantomachia. He wanted to end this yesterday. Something about having Izuku so close by and in such a bad state made Tomura even angrier than usual. He couldn’t afford to comfort Izuku until this boss was defeated, because it was aggroed onto him. And Tomura was not about to lead Gigantomachia to Izuku. Knowing Izuku, he’d try to get involved. Tomura didn’t doubt his friend—still recovering from that bullet or not—but he shouldn’t have to get involved when this was on Tomura for not impressing Sensei’s bodyguard.

Tomura followed the line of destruction approaching them from farther down the valley. Well, it didn’t work with the sinkhole, but it should at least annoy the giant. Tomura slammed both hands to the ground, rage and hate driving fissures deep into the landscape, cracking it apart in front of him and his allies.

“Um, Shigaraki. Machia’s over there,” Spinner said, pointing downhill.

Tomura smiled in response as the mountainside above the dusted zone groaned, and a series of sharp cracks split the air. “Yes, he is.” Spinner, Magne, and Twice backed up a few steps as a rockslide (or did it count as a landslide with that many trees and tons or dirt thrown in?) rushed to meet their foe. Tomura stayed where he stood on the edge of the destruction, waiting for Gigantomachia to make his next move.

Chapter Text

Izuku helped Magne pack up camp for what felt like the hundredth time. In the week he’d been with the League, they’d moved bases pretty frequently, following the sometimes random, sometimes planned path of the fight with Gigantomachia. Izuku had only caught a glimpse of the guy once, when he dug himself out of yet another massive landslide caused by Tomura.

Some distant part of Izuku was amazed at how much his best friend’s quirk had grown since he’d last seen it, but the majority of Izuku was still stuck in the numb limbo that had settled after the rooftop and Hawks.

When he wasn’t helping move camp, he busied himself foraging for mushrooms and edible plants to bolster the group’s food stores or helping whoever was on cooking duty turn what they had into something filling and decently tasty. When the shifts swapped, he helped patch up whoever needed it—except Dabi who insisted on treating his burns himself.

The only person he didn’t see every day was Tomura.

Izuku glanced in the direction of the fight and frowned as he thought about it. The others had explained that Gigantomachia was one of Sensei’s followers and was mainly interested in Tomura as the man’s successor. He would leave them alone if they took a break but not Tomura. No, Tomura he hounded. The only chance his friend got to rest was the scant few hours Gigantomachia slept every other day, and he’d been doing so for nearly a month. Tomura was strong, but no one could keep going like that forever.

Things came to a head when one of Tomura’s plans worked. (Well, a second one; apparently, one had worked before Izuku arrived.) Izuku didn’t see what exactly happened, but one minute the mountainside was quiet, and the next a deafening roar split the air.

Magne and he were making lunch. Spinner slept sprawled out in the sun, and Twice sat half-dressed while mending a tear in his costume’s sleeve. At the thunderous sound, Izuku dropped the ladle he was holding and jumped to his feet alongside the others. He fell down immediately after as the ground shook. When the shaking subsided, Izuku crept toward the edge of the cliff the League had set up camp on. Down below, he couldn’t see anything for how dense the trees were. At least, he couldn’t until, with a great rumble, Gigantomachia erupted from the ground to stand head and shoulders above the forest. His reappearance sent trees, dirt, and stone flying in all directions.

“You have got to be kidding me! Please, no…” Twice yelled and pleaded beside him.

“Well, that’s a new one. Haven’t seen the claws and spines before now,” Magne noted.

“What’s up with his face?” Spinner asked.

Izuku took another look, and sure enough, in addition to growing innumerable spines along his back and great claws replacing his fingers, Gigantomachia…didn’t have a face? No, that wasn’t right…Izuku squinted at the man’s face—or where it should be—and finally noticed the changed shape of his jaw. “Hey, didn’t his jaw use to be…bigger?”

The Leaguers leaned forward and watched as the man leveled the trees on either side of him with a swipe of his claws. Magne spoke up first, “You know, I think you’re right. Did Shigaraki finally get a hand on him?”

Spinner shook his head. “No, that doesn’t look like Decay—”

A pained shout echoed up the mountainside, jolting them all out of their discussion. Someone was hurt.

A large hand on Izuku’s shoulder stopped him from bolting down the trail. “Stay here, Hun. We got this,” Magne said, pushing him gently back toward the campfire before running after Spinner who was already dipping out of sight.

Twice hurriedly pulled his costume’s top back on and raced after them. “We’re coming! You guys better not be dead, or I’ll kill you!”

Izuku stood frozen for a moment before he exhaled. What would he even do if he went down there? He didn’t have his quirk or weapons. Aikido and MMA wouldn’t do him much good against an opponent the size of an apartment building. Could he do anything in that fight besides get in the way? He swallowed and looked around the campsite. He supposed he could get set up to deal with the inevitable injuries. He knew first aid.

He ignored how his hands trembled as he collected the scattered pieces of Twice’s sewing kit. He opened Twice’s bag to put it away and paused. There were two other cases in it, one red and one blue. The red one looked familiar. He set the sewing kit aside and carefully lifted the red case. He turned it in his hands and cracked it open, nearly dropping it when he saw four all too familiar darts inside. Or should he say bullets?

One of these tiny things had taken his quirk.

What did that make the other case?

Izuku narrowed his eyes and carefully closed the red case, setting it beside the sewing kit before opening the blue case. Another set of darts met him, but these had a different color casing than the quirk-erasing bullets. Izuku mentally reviewed the notes he’d read at Nighteye’s agency. After the Commission took issue with Izuku doing analysis of open cases, Nighteye handed him the files they’d recovered from the Hassaikai’s labs. Technically, that case wasn’t ongoing even if it wasn’t exactly closed either, so…

Izuku shook his head and tried to focus past the renewed shaking of the ground. Those files had talked a lot about trigger production and distribution as well as the quirk-erasing drug’s development (not in complete detail—Nighteye wouldn’t let him see the “subject notes” that the reports referenced), but a few of Overhaul’s memos hinted at a third product, always mentioned in association with the quirk-erasing drug: a cure.

Izuku picked up one of the blue darts, barely half the length of his thumb, and turned it in his fingers. Was it really that simple? Did Tomura have the fix for what had happened to him this entire time without knowing it?

Laughter bubbled up in Izuku’s chest, and it wasn’t the happy kind.

A resounding boom sounded behind him, closer than before, followed by another shout. Tomura’s.

Izuku froze and listened, for what he wasn’t sure. Then another voice—Toga’s—called, “Shiggy!”

Tomura was in trouble.

Izuku dropped the possibly-a-cure dart back into its case and snapped it shut before setting it beside the red case. He started to stand when the glint of something metal caught his eye.

Maybe he could do something after all.

(Why would Gigantomachia need a face shield built into his quirks if he was immune to damage?)

---

Tomura never thought he’d hate multi-stage boss battles, but he stood corrected. This had better be Gigantomachia’s final form, or Tomura was going to make it be. As if the giant having a gigantification quirk wasn’t bullshit enough, now he had a transformation quirk that gave him insanely long claws, covered his blind spot in stony spikes, and enabled him to burrow underground to attack from literally anywhere.

How did you dodge an enemy you couldn’t see coming? Tomura was still figuring that out.

He snarled as he reached down to dust the tree that had fallen on him. It didn’t feel like he’d broken anything, but his leg still hurt. It would probably be bruised all to hell tomorrow—

A shadow fell over him.

—if he lived to see it.

“Successor is strong,” the mountain of man said as he loomed overhead. “But can you inspire dread worthy of All for One?” Gigantomachia raised one clawed hand.

Tomura snarled and flexed his fingers. There was no way he could get out of the AOE attack’s range in time.

“Hey!”

Tomura’s blood ran cold with panic. That was…

Gigantomachia tilted his head at the unfamiliar voice. His attack didn’t fall.

“Hey! Gigantomachia, right?” Izuku called, running out of the trees. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced yet.” As he talked, his eyes scanned Tomura. He frowned when he saw Tomura favoring his leg.

What was Izuku doing her?! Did he have a death wish? Tomura nearly yelled at him to leave, but Izuku raised a finger to his lips and shot him a look. His Player Two had a plan. Tomura just wished it kept his friend out of danger.

Gigantomachia sniffed the air and turned toward Izuku, slowly lowering his arm. “You smell a little like Master…”

Izuku’s eyebrows shot up. “Master? Oh, you mean Sensei! Is that because he gave me a quirk or because of something Dr. Tsubasa did? Though I don’t have the quirk anymore…”

Gigantomachia rumbled and crouched to get a better whiff. “Are you here for Successor too?”

For once in his life, Tomura wished Izuku would deny being associated with him.

Izuku hummed. “Something like that. My dad and I are friends of Sensei’s family. Midoriya Izuku, pleasure to meet you!” he said with a far more chipper tone than the circumstance called for. He even bobbed a quick bow. “Um, I don’t know if you can see right now, but I bowed. It’s only polite. Sensei always valued manners.”

Gigantomachia seemed to mull over Izuku’s words for a moment before the shield over his face slid down, uncovering his eyes to better scrutinize Izuku. To Tomura’s shock, he offered Izuku a shallow bow in return. “Manners…All for One told Gigantomachia.”

Izuku beamed up at the giant. “I knew you’d get it! Say, you were talking about inspiring dread before, right?” He shifted from one foot to the other, and Tomura only now realized that Izuku had kept his hands behind his back ever since appearing. His friend was still smiling, but there was something dark in his eyes as he continued, “Well, what inspires more dread than the threat of losing your quirk?”

Tomura didn’t realize what happened until the noise registered. That was a gunshot. Izuku was holding a gun. Gigantomachia reeled back, hand slapped over his eye as he roared. And shrank. Why was Gigantomachia shrinking?

Wait, back up. Izuku had hurt Gigantomachia? And who gave the sunshine child a gun?!

Izuku walked toward the now baseline human-sized Gigantomachia as he ejected the gun’s clip and slid something into it. He clicked it shut again as he said, “Tomura’s had these the whole time he fought you, but I don’t think he knew what they did. Luckily for him, I was at the raid and read over the lab reports. So…” He primed the gun and aimed it back at Gigantomachia. “Does this satisfy your requirement for inspiring dread?”

Gigantomachia finally pulled his hand away from his bloodied eye, in his palm a…red dart? Wait…that was one of the darts they’d stolen from Overhaul’s prison transport. Izuku’d shot Gigantomachia with a quirk-destroying bullet?!

Gigantomachia studied Izuku with one eye open for half a minute before grinning wide. “Yes! If Successor has these and followers like you, then yes. All for One chose well. He is a fitting King.”

Izuku’s posture relaxed a little. “Good.” Then he shot Gigantomachia again.

“Izuku?! What are you doing?” Tomura screeched and hobbled toward his clearly insane friend as the other League members finally started showing up.

“Administering the antidote,” Izuku said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He dug around in his pocket with the hand not holding the gun and nodded toward Gigantomachia, who was rapidly regaining his former size and visible quirks. “Granted, him having multiple quirks is unprecedented. Though if the first dart erased all of them, I think it’s safe to assume the second will restore all of them.”

Izuku made a small, victorious noise and pulled his hand out of his pocket, holding another dart, this one blue. “And now that I’ve confirmed that these are the cure…” He loaded the new dart and aimed the gun at his own arm.

“Wait!”

“Kid, no!”

“Don’t!”

There was a crackle of radio static. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Midoriya.”

Izuku paused, eyebrows scrunching up. “Dr. Tsubasa?”

That was distraction enough for Tomura to snatch the gun away from his Player Two. He was careful not to decay it though.

“Yes,” The radio around Gigantomachia’s neck answered. “And as well as the dart may have worked on Gigantomachia—which I will be verifying myself, by the way—your situation isn’t the same.”

“What do you mean?” Izuku asked. “We both were hit with quirk-destroying bullets. Why shouldn’t the antidote work on me?”

“Gigantomachia still had the drug in his system. It’s been months since your exposure and the damage it did. And the quirk All for One gave you directly affected your brain and nerve structure. Do you really want to take the chance of something going wrong?”

Izuku balled his fists and lowered his head. Only Tomura stood close enough to see the slight shake in his frame. “I can’t…” He paused to take a breath. “I don’t want to stay like this. Not with a solution right in front of me. With all due respect, Dr. Tsubasa, I think I’ll take my chances.”

The Doctor chuckled. “Now, I never said you couldn’t get your quirk back, just that Overhaul’s shoddy work isn’t the best way to go about it.”

Izuku finally lifted his head to reveal his eyes were red-rimmed. “What?”

The Doctor sighed. Instead of answering Izuku’s question, he addressed Tomura, “I believe congratulations are in order. Took you long enough. But, now that you’ve proven yourself, I should tell you about some of Master’s plans. I’ll teleport you all over. Gigantomachia, watch their camp for them.”

“Yes, Doctor,” the giant said, lumbering off toward the cliff they’d been living on.

“What now?” Izuku asked.

Then they all choked on black slime.