Verdant Revolution - KarraHazetail - 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia (2024)

Chapter 1: Chapter # 1| Sacrifice of a Hero

Chapter Text

The world isn’t a kind place. The world isn’t even a fair place. Things happen because someone or something, somewhere, pushed them to happen. Be it the weather destroying coastline with floods and ceaseless waves or a criminal absconding with his loot leaving the battered and broken behind him. There is a reason that all things happen. One Midoriya Izuku had learnt that lesson long before this point and wasn’t surprised to be learning the lesson once again. One of their own had betrayed them. A member of the defense militia that was defending the Elysium Installation had tipped the Phurians to their base of operations and their plans. Perhaps the refuge hadn’t been with them from the beginning and was merely a wolf in sheep's clothing all along biding their time until they could ruin the hopes and dreams of the resistance. The Captain had always told him that he was too soft towards the rescued civilians. Perhaps she was right on that front. Regardless of what might be the case, now was neither the time nor the place for debates on his actions and the morality of them. The installation was still under assault, and until all of the civilians had made it through the gateway, they couldn’t risk falling back from their positions. It was going to be a long day.

…

They were running low on supplies, and except for a handful of the defense militia and the four remaining members of the Black Cats, they were low on manpower as well. The Phurians were pushing them back steadily towards the command center and it was only a matter of time before their defensive line was broken through. The civilians were, finally, almost through the gateway and they would soon be able to blow the installation, leaving nothing but the ashes of the installation in a smoking crater for the Phurian High Command to sift through.

“Stewart," Midoriya called out over the roar of gunfire, bullets ricocheting off the tunnel walls and filling the air with dust. “We don’t have all day here. Get those charges set. We need to pull back.”

“Unless you want me to set off the facility charges with these and blow us all to hell and back, you’ll have to give me a damn second.” Steward shouts back to Midoriya, sweat beading on his brow, a bullet pinging off the barricade he was hidden behind to finish the wiring. “And... done. We’re all clear sir.”

“Everyone pull back to the command center!” Midoriya gave the orders with a practiced precision that came from his years as the second in command of the Black Cats.

“Go Stewart, I’m covering.” Midoriya popped his head and rifle out around the corner of the barricade long enough to place several rounds down the hallway. The Phurian soldiers were forced back around the corner lest they take even more losses to their already mounting death toll. Those that weren’t lucky enough to step back in time didn’t have to worry about anything ever again. Midoriya took the momentary abatement of gunfire to sprint back around the corner, bullets once again raining down around them, and gave Stewart the signal. There was a single moment after that before the explosion went off and the tunnels rumbled almost as if the very mountain was going to come down on their heads in retribution for their actions. The rumbling stopped and everyone took a much-needed breath.

“That will buy us a few minutes while they reroute troops or try to get through the rubble,” he muttered. Striding down the tunnel to the command center, Midoriya was struck by a sense of nostalgia. It had been only a couple years since the Black Cats had found the long-abandoned underground installation, but in those years they had certainly called it home and not just their base of operations. The labs where he spent countless hours working on both research and the squadron members augmentations. The armory where the members not only trained but maintained their gear. Even the living quarters held memories, despite how little time any of them spent there.

It is certainly going to be strange to say goodbye to her. But in the end, it's the start of a new beginning. At least those damn Phurians won’t be getting her.

Midoriya walked into the command center and looked around for the Captain. The command center was densely packed with electronics. Charts of statistics and graphs of operations lined the walls and a main bank of systems lined one wall just in front of thick plate glass windows that overlooked a glowing sparking gateway through which a plain filled with refugees could be seen. Spotting the captain behind the main system overlooking the gateway, he stepped over and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“How's the evacuation going Rose? Better or Worse than we hoped?”

“Better, I would say.” There was a hint of a musical lilt to Rose's voice when she spoke, each word subtly hinting at the origins of her upbringing. Midoriya would have smiled at that lilt. That would be the case were he not familiar with her inflections. As it was, he ended up with a noticeable crease forming in his brow and his mouth turning down into a frown.

“What's wrong. I know that tone and I know there is a but coming.”

“Nothing major is wrong. We just sent the last of the supplies we stockpiled through the gate. The field is destabilizing, however, and I’m worried they won’t end up where we sent them.” Rose spoke softly just to Midoriya, being careful that the second part wasn’t overheard. They had enough to worry about without adding the morale of the remaining members of the defense militia onto the pile.

“We can worry about that later. At least the supplies are on the other side. If that's everyone and everything accounted for, let's set the charge timer and get ourselves to the other worldline before som-” Midoriya was cut off by a loud rumble and the clinking of boots outside the door. Spinning on his heel and drawing his sidearm, he just managed to get it trained on the door when five Phurian troopers came through the sealed bulkhead. Pulling the trigger twice, he dropped two and threw his Ka-Bar through another trooper's throat. Rose had spun out of her chair, dropping the other two. Son of a-

“Status!” Midoriya yells out, checking on what remained of his squad.

“All good sir!” Weapon Sergeant Caroline Mayer called back. “Nearly took a few hits but managed to get the civies out the way in time.”

“Good. All of you get ready. We’re moving to the gateway and getting out of here in just a moment.” Midoriya turned back to Rose, prepared to set the timer when he saw the sparking console filled with holes. “Well-”

“f*ck.” Rose finished his sentence for him when she saw what he was looking at. “f*ck f*ck f*ck. Can not a gods damned thing go right for us today.” Kicking the sparking console only causes it to be a now dented sparking console filled with holes.

“Maybe it's our luck finally catching up to us.” Mayer snorted at Stewarts' comment before seeing Rose’s icy stare. While it was a long-running joke that the Black Cats' own luck would catch up with them, there was a time and place and this was neither. Midoriya took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he came to terms with what he was about to do.

“I’ve got it. Rose take everyone left and get through the gateway with them. I’ll make sure those bastards don’t get to follow you.” Rose snaps around to stare at Midoriya, eyes wide with shock and a bit of horror.

“My ass you will. You’ll never make it out in time. There has to be another way Izuku.” Izuku gave her a small, sad smile, already tapping away on another terminal that was still functional.

“We both know I have no choice. A remote bypass is impossible from on this worldline, much less the other because of our own countermeasures. None of us have time to bypass them before the Phurians take full control of this facility. No, I won’t be coming with you.” Rose opened her mouth as if to argue with Midoriya before closing her mouth and clenching her jaw.

“Please Rose. I need to do this. It was My Project. It was My Work. My Responsibility. Would have liked to see what's the other side myself though. Oh well. I'm sure you’ll do fine without me.” Rose was about to retort, only to be distracted by another not so distant rumble.

“Fine. Everyone heard the man. Get down the stairs and get through the gateway.” Rose picked up her rifle from where it was leaning against the now defunct console, then headed towards the staircase off the right side of the command center. She stopped just before the stairs and looked back to Midoriya. “I’m sorry.” Rose's voice cracked in sorrow. Sorrow for losing another Black Cat. Another member of her family. For losing Izuku. For the first time since that day started, he gave Rose her a full, radiant smile that could have blinded someone in another time and place.

“Had to be me. Someone else might have gotten it wrong.” Midoriya continued to tap away at the console, watching through the glass as his close friends and family stepped through the gateway. Rose turned and gave him one last look of regret and self-loathing before stepping through the gateway.

It was only a few minutes later when he had finished priming the reactors that he heard the heavy bootsteps behind him. He picked up the detonator and turned with a smile on his face. Through the door stepped General Norwood himself. Six and a half feet of muscle and scar tissue with salt and pepper hair. His generally clean-shaven face had a fine layer of stubble on it and his eyes had heavy bags under them as if he hadn’t gotten any rest during the last day either. The man may have been in his mid-fifties, but he was absolutely not a man to be trifled with.

“And what pray tell have I done to warrant a visit from his most magnificent of the high command himself.” Midoriya still smiled as the general's eyes locked with his in recognition, his face contorting in disgust and loathing.

“The rat has been chased into its hole and yet, cornered, it still dares ask its superior what it has done wrong.” The General rumbles his response, multiple Phurian Troopers coming in behind him and fanning out, each pointing their rifles at Midoriya’s chest. “But to answer your question. You needn’t worry, as your little rebellion ends here.” Midoriya's smile settled into a feral grin.

“Oh, on that General, we do agree.” Norwood, finally noticing the switch in Midoriya's hand, cries out. His cries are simply lost as Midoriya closes his eyes and the world flashes to white.

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Beep...
...
Beep...

Midoriya’s eyes snap open at the sound. The smell of antiseptics is harsh in the air and his body feels weak as if he hasn’t moved in a long time.

What's going on here? The last thing I remember is pulling the trigger on the detonator. That was an explosion with the force of all three of the fusion reactors in the power center, not to mention the charges all over the facility. Nothing should have escaped that blast. In fact, there shouldn’t be anything left of the mountain range but ashes. Where am I? How am I alive? Am I alive?

Midoriya looked around, taking in his surroundings for the first time since he had awoken so suddenly. He was in some kind of hospital gown, that much was obvious, and the view outside of the window looked like Japan, but that was impossible. He couldn’t be back. Could he? When he looked to his left, he expected to find the IV in his arm leading to some kind of solution and machines. Instead, he encountered a very surprised nurse whose mouth was open in shock.

“Uhm. Hello?” Midoriya asked. The nurse snapped out of it and spoke in Japanese.

“You're awake.”

“Well yes, that would be expected if I'm speaking with you.” The nurse snaps her mouth closed as she realizes that he was indeed awake and talking to her.

“I need to get the doctors right now.” With that, the nurse ran out of the room, leaving the door open in her rush.

Midoriya chuckled at her panic. He would still be here when she got back. Leaning back he started contemplating what had happened. If I really am back in Japan, I wonder if anything has changed.

The doctors came fast after the nurse left the room. Asking him a million questions to verify that he was still all there. Drawing blood, asking questions, drawing more blood, asking more questions. This went on for some time before he realized they were calling him by his name. To them, he is Midoriya Izuku. No one but the Black Cats knew that name. He hadn’t gone by that name in years. He really was back in Japan, wasn’t he?

It wasn’t until his mother busted into his hospital room, tears already pouring down her cheeks, that it sank in that this was real. That he is back in Japan. That he is fourteen again. When his mother wrapped him in her embrace for the first time in eighteen years, that some part of Izuku that he had buried away snapped. In his mother's arms, he broke and sobbed with her for the first time in far too long.

Chapter 2: Chapter #2 | The Remnants of Yesterday

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Six and a half days was all it took after Izuku woke up to remember. He hated hospitals, and he wasn’t too overly fond of doctors either. Oh, don’t get him wrong, they weren’t performing experiments on their patients or really anything evil for that matter. They never did anything at all that would make him think that the medical staff of Musutafu General was plotting something nefarious against him. In fact, it was the exact opposite, and it was driving Izuku insane. He had barely been awake a week, and of that week, barely any of it was spent alone. Either a nurse was checking on him and his vitals, another wheeling him to a test chamber, or a doctor performing some test or another on him. The constant coddling as if he were an invalid reminded him entirely too much of what society expected of the quirkless. Much less a quirkless that had, apparently, just come out of a year-long coma.

The only silver lining to any of the constant tests or the incessant physical therapy were the visits from his mother in the afternoon. Oh, sure. He was certain she would stay every waking moment were he only to ask. But he couldn’t do that to her. She had responsibilities to attend to, a job to perform as one of the top chefs in the Shizuoka prefecture. She was quite good at what she did, and it meant a lot to her. If there was one thing Izuku wasn’t going to risk, it was her losing her position. Thus Izuku persevered through the ceaseless presence of the medical staff and complied with their requests as best as he could, considering his body had apparently weakened considerably in his year of beauty sleep. Not that it was to be unexpected considering just how weak he was to start with.

“-ear me, Mr. Midoriya?” Izuku snapped his head back to the doctor that was talking. He had been lost in thought wondering what else the doctors could possibly test him for.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Ken’Ichi. What was that? I was thinking about... Something. Besides that, I’ve barely gotten a few hours sleep across these last few days with all the testing.” Dr. Ken’Ichi Toda was, by anyone's standards for a doctor, young. In his early thirties, he was barely out of medical school. But despite this, the spry man that, were he not sitting, would tower over most of his patients had cemented himself as an asset at the general hospital. Currently, the young doctor sat beside Izuku’s bed rattling off the day's results to the testing he had undergone. Giving Midoriya a rueful smile, he let on that the pause had told him exactly what it was Izuku had been contemplating.

“Oh yes, I’m quite sure you were. As I was saying, young man, you’ve made absolutely remarkable progress in terms of your recovery. Your MMSE score is practically perfect, which is shocking considering the degree of your head trauma when you came in here initially. Besides that, your MAS scores have improved so rapidly I would suspect that you had a quirk that was speeding up your recovery. Of course, that would be if I hadn’t personally run your blood twice more to check for an active quirk factor. Which, if it isn’t clear from my phrasing, was absent.”

“What can I say doc,” Izuku gave him a small humorous smile, “I heal quickly.”

“That, young man, is a serious understatement. The rate at which you have recovered is nothing short of a medical marvel. Regardless. You are for all intents and purposes recovered enough for me to clear you to be discharged. Though you should still continue the exercises we have had you do. We’ll also be sending a packet home with you containing any information that you might need. Of course, if you have questions, you can still call the hospital directly. I’ll get the paperwork together, and when your mother gets here this afternoon, you’ll be able to head home with her.”

“Thank you, sir.” Izuku dipped his head, thanking the doctor for finally clearing his release.

“You can thank me by not ending up back in here again. We’re still not sure how you managed to get those injuries of yours. Are you sure you don’t remember anything?”

“No sir. Though I’ll be sure to inform the detective if I do happen to remember something.” The doctor nodded his head before turning and exiting the room. Sighing, Izuku sank back into the mattress. He knew perfectly well who had put him in the hospital in the first place. Sure, he couldn’t blame Katsuki for the villain that stumbled drunk into the alley after he had left. He certainly couldn’t blame Katsuki for the villain having had a bad day. For the villain loving an easy target to take his frustrations out on. But he most certainly could blame him for the years of torment that he had been subjected to. He could hold him accountable for putting starburst scarring across his body, and he most certainly could blame him for his general quirkist nonsense. If he learned anything in the last years, it's that you don't need a quirk to make something of yourself.

…

The trip home was refreshing for Izuku. He was glad to be out of the hospital. The medical personnel had been nothing but kind to him, but he was really enjoying being back in real clothing. The city was familiar, yet so strange at the same time. To Izuku, it was as if he had stepped back in time. To a home that he had never expected to see again. It was so peaceful here. Such a contrast to the silent ruins he had been stalking through only weeks before. There was life here, people living their lives happily without any thought to what could happen to them at the drop of a coin.

“Izuku, are you okay?” For the second time that day, Izuku was snapped out of his thoughts by a concerned voice. “We’re home, honey.” Midoriya Inko was a short woman with a mature air about her, and she was as kind as they came. Izuku simply hugged his fretting mother and breathed deeply.

“Don’t worry mom. I feel better now than I have in a long time.” Izuku stepped into his old home with a smile on his face. He hadn’t expected to ever be back here, but he was certainly going to make the most of it now that he was.

“I’m going to start work on dinner. It's your favorite katsudon! Why don’t you go and get settled back in while I’m making the food.” Nodding his head, Izuku walked slowly down the hallway, just taking in the details as he did.

So many things familiar, yet only in distant passing. As if the things he was trying to remember were fading out of memory. Only to then be forced back to the surface. The pencil markings on the wall where his mother had marked his height as he grew, the little scratches in the paint from where he had been playing hero a little too rough when he was younger. He let his hand trail across the wood architrave around the doors, breathing deeply and taking in the mixture of scents he could only associate in his mind with his childhood. Then suddenly in front of him was the door to a room he hadn’t seen in so long. The old All Might sign with his name written in stunted crayon handwriting still hanging, slanted, from its peg on his door. Izuku gripped the doorknob and opened the door to what seemed like another time. All Might merchandise was hanging from practically every surface and figurines were on every shelf. His journals on his bookshelf one of the blessed few things in the room that wasn’t somehow related to the man. Izuku sweatdropped looking into the room in what was a state of almost shock.

I knew that I was particularly a fan of All Might, but I have to admit, I didn’t realize it was quite this fanatical of an obsession. Though I suppose being the number one hero in what might as well be the world does get you a few crazy obsessed fans.

Placing his papers from the hospital onto his desk, he took a moment to just sit down and look at his room. He would have to do something about the room. Maybe take down a few of the older posters and box up some of the dozens of figurines. But for now, at least, he was content to just look. To sit and remember the past and let his memories of growing up keep him company for the moment.

…

Izuku was fairly certain he had an idea as to why he was able to get out of months of rehabilitative therapy within the week, but he wasn’t quite sure quite how it was possible if he were correct.

“Don’t let your fear hold you back. Use your fear, understand it. Don’t let it rule you, but make it work for you so you can do what needs to be done.” Rose's words echoed in the back of his head as he sat at his desk. The sad ghost of a smile twitched at Izuku's lips.

An entirely different world and your words can still reach me. You’d be proud of yourself for that, Rose. Izuku stood, walking over to the mirror positioned next to his dresser. The augmentations we developed for the Black Cats would explain my recovery time, but how would they have come back here with me? If they did, clearly not all of them did. The doctors certainly would have noticed subdermal implants in their follow up tests, right? That generally rules those out, but what about the genetic ones? The genes we altered for muscle growth, density, and regeneration would certainly explain the recovery, but I can’t exactly test those in quick fashion. The mental genes we altered for reaction time certainly still seem to be in play if the hospital tests were of any indication. What about the activatable traits we altered? That's something to try. I didn’t have time to alter myself with many of them bu-

A burst of happy, bubbling laughter brought Izuku out of his thoughts. At his doorway stood his mother looking at him as if her world were complete for the first time in a long time. “Look at you. I was all worried because you were so quiet on the way back from the hospital, but look at you now. Home, not even night, and already muttering so quickly that I can’t understand what you're saying. Come on hun, dinner's on the table and there is no reason to let it get cold.”

“Alright, thanks mom. I’ll be out in just a second.” Inko smiled and walked back towards the kitchen. Izuku looked back at the mirror and leaned into his reflection. Taking a deep breath and remembering Rose's words, he focused and opened his eyes. Where one would normally find deep, dark emerald eyes, instead one would, at that moment, find eyes a bright viridian, cyan specs floating in what seems to be an otherworldly sea of color and light.

“Well looky there,” Izuku murmured under his breath. “Looks like I still have a piece of you all after all.” Letting his focus drop away and his eyes to return to their normal shade, he smiled at the thought. Then frowned. How is this possible? Izuku walked towards the dining room shaking his head. At the moment it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he still has some of his augments, and that would be incredibly useful.

Sitting down at the table, he smiled at his mother and thanked her for the food. Taking a bite, he froze. It had been so long since he’d had his mother's cooking that he had forgotten just how amazing it was. At that moment, that katsudon was the best thing he had tasted in eighteen long years. It wasn’t until he heard his mother's concerned question that he realized he was crying.

“I- I’m fine,” Izuku choked out around the sob already building in the back of his throat. “I’m just really happy to be home.” Inko teared up as well at this and, laughing, the two ate dinner together in an odd state of happy crying revelry. She caught him up on the major things that had happened in the last year and he gladly listened. When she heard from him that he was planning on heading back to classes already, she was initially concerned. But after some reassurances that he would be fine playing a little bit of catchup, she relented. He knew there would be no catchup at all if he could remember even half of what he had learned working alongside the rescued scientists at the Elysium Installation. If he could, then he would be ahead of most college graduates, much less some middle school math class.

After dinner he excused himself to shower and get ready for bed. After doing so he laid awake, unused to the relative silence of his room. There had always been something happening or some noise being made in the barracks. Be it the air pumps working away to keep the underground facility breathing or a game of poker in the common area, there was some noise to assure you everything was fine. The silence was dangerous, he had learnt. The calm before the oncoming storm. Sighing, he rolled over and did his best to get to sleep. Surely going back to school couldn’t be any worse than anything else he had experienced.

Chapter 3: Chapter # 3 | The Quirkless Burden

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Izuku’s eyes snapped open. His hand shooting out to grasp around on his sideboard for his sidearm. His breathing harsh and erratic, sweat rolling down his back as he tries to calm himself. Trying desperately to focus on where he was.

In Japan, he panted. I'm back in Japan. No one is hurt. No one is dying. No one is dead again. Slowly Izuku got his breathing under control, his heart rate back to an acceptable level. Nausea rolling in his stomach fading away. Releasing his shirt where it was bunched under his clenched right hand, Izuku brought both his hands to his face, rubbing from the root of his nose to his eyes. Sighing, Izuku looked over to his clock, noting the time.

Well, technically I shouldn’t be getting up for my first day back for another two hours. There is no point in wasting the time though. No way I’m getting back to sleep after that. Turning to his wardrobe, he picked out a pair of shorts that still fit and kept his tank top on him. It's already soaked through with sweat. Might as well use it for my morning routine.

Slipping from his room and into the living area, Izuku took a moment to begin stretching and to take in the details around the apartment that he had failed to notice the day before in his nostalgia. While he had only been gone from this home, this world, for a year here, there were still differences. The photos of his father were notably absent. Not that it bothered him much he hadn’t known the man very well. Leaving as early in Izuku’s life as Hizashi tended to stunt the growth of memories. Last he had heard, his father had been working somewhere outside of Japan.

Rolling his shoulder, Izuku slipped out the front door and started with a light jog down the road. When he was about halfway to his destination, he picked up his pace into a dead sprint. It wasn’t long before he reached the old beach. Izuku breathed deeply, placing his hands on the back of his head.

I am nowhere near where I want to be, clearly. I used to be able to sprint several miles without issue. Now I can barely run a mile and a half without feeling like my body is giving up on me.

Looking up from where Izuku leaned against the beach walkway railing, Izuku stared out in disbelief at the now mountainous piles of trash that covered Dagobah Beach. The last time he had been here was only a year and some change before.

How the hell did it get like this?! The trash problem was bad before, but did no one bother to fix it? It’s the city's property, so, alright, it might not be the biggest priority. But good gods, I can’t even see the horizon, and the beach is a good eight to ten feet down at the very least from the walkway. The trash is piled at least twenty or so feet above even that. How the HELL did the beach get covered in trash at least thirty feet deep and no one, especially a hero, took note of this. Izuku leaned back from the railing and looked further down the beach, shaking his head.

While absolutely insane and would have to have something done about it, that was an issue for another time and place. He’d deal with it himself, he resolved, but not now. From what Izuku could see, the sun was beginning to crest the horizon. Not that he would see it as he wanted because of a mountain of refuse.

If this is any indication of how this day is going to go, then it is going to be a long day… I just jinxed it, didn’t I. Sighing, Izuku started heading back to his apartment building once again at a dead sprint, hoping that he hadn’t.

…

Stepping back into his home, the first thing that Izuku heard was soft crying. Stepping quickly in, muscles tensing and adrenaline pumping, ready to fight at any moment, Izuku came face to face with one crying Midoriya Inko sitting on the couch.

“Mom?” Izuku stepped quickly to his mother, surveying the room for any sign of a threat. “Mom, what's wrong?” He set his hand on her shoulder gently, her eyes snapping up to meet his.

“Izuku?! Oh, thank god. I thought it was all just a dream. I thought it was all a dream and you were back in that hospitalbedandyouweren’tbackhereathomean-” she cut off as her words became too quick and her sobbing started back up again. Izuku paled, realizing what had happened and cursing himself for not saying something, for not even leaving a note that he was stepping out.

“Shh. Shhh, it's alright, it's fine. I'm right here, mom. I won't be going anywhere again. I'm sorry I didn’t think before I stepped out for a run. I'm sorry. Shhh.” Izuku’s breath hitched slightly as he tried to calm his mother. There had never been a threat other than the looming threat that was implications. The implications of him disappearing. Of not being there for his mother. Of what she had thought when she had awoken to find his bed empty and his room devoid of life.

…

It took some time before either Midoriya had calmed down enough that Izuku was able to step away from his mother and shower off his exercise. Once he had done so, brushed his teeth and pulled his hair back into a small ponytail as it had gotten rather long in his year-long hospital visit. Izuku put on his uniform slacks and shirt. Tucking his dress shirt in and slipping his jacket on, Izuku stepped out and walked into the dining room where his mother waited with breakfast. Her eyes were still rimmed in red from where she had been crying, but she was smiling again. He needed to keep her that way. She deserved that from him. They ate their breakfast in relative silence before stepping out the door, wishing each other a good day and parting to head to their respective destinations.

…

Izuku had been wrong. Oh so wrong. He had grown too used to schools without quirks. Schools that were regimented with the authority of a military command that had the respect of their men. Aldera Junior High made a military academy, where each individual was armed, seem like a friendly, welcoming place to vacation. If the Osmian academy judged your worth on your actions, then Aldera judged your worth on how likely your quirk was to make you a hero. If you had a flashy, strong quirk, such as one resident pyromaniac sociopath, then you were the top of the totem pole. If you had a quirk that the faculty didn’t judge highly, such as your hair changing colors at will, then you weren’t exactly the VIP of the class, but at least you were treated as a human being. If only a lesser one. Finally, if you were quirkless or had what society might perceive as ‘villainous’ for your quirk. Well, some things make even hell seem friendly.

The moment Izuku stepped through the doors of the junior high, he could tell he wasn’t welcome here. Students would look at him and quickly look away, blocking out his mere existence as if it were a blot on their nice, comfortable lives. Others would stare at him with unhidden disgust, whispering to their fellow student about him. Others still would look and try their best to not catch his attention. The few souls that might have given him the time of day, the few who might have been friendly, were they of course not worried about the consequences of being associated with him. Izuku stepped into his classroom just before the bell rang and caught the attention of the school's chief bully and general pain in his ass, Bakugo Katsuki. The look in his eyes as he looked at Midoriya, and the feral grin that sprouted to his lips, was enough to tell Izuku that he would be as much of a problem as he used to be.

Well, there went the hope that perhaps the coma had made him have an epiphany regarding his behavior. Before he could step further into the classroom, his teacher caught his attention.

“Ahem. Mr. Midoriya. I do have to apologize.” The teacher smirked at him and let just the slightest bit of condescension slip into his tone. “You have to understand that we didn’t expect to see you back here so soon considering your. Ahem. Circ*mstances. As such, we gave your desk to another student that had transferred in. As it is, you’ll have to sit in the back on the floor. I'm sure you’ll be able to handle that until we can get you properly sorted.”

Izuku nodded his head and started to make his way to the back of the class. Good to see the teachers are as terrible as ever as well. The more things change… Izuku let his thoughts trail off before taking a seat, leaning against some shelves at the back of the class with a clear line of sight down the aisle to the board. Initially, he pulled the notebook he had brought with him out of his bag to take notes. Very quickly, however, Izuku realized that it was completely pointless to take notes, as he could do this kind of work while being asleep. In fact, he had actually completed, correctly he might add, far more complex problems than what were being given to the students while being practically asleep. The students kept glancing back at Izuku. A variety of emotions were evident on their faces. Confusion as to his lack of note-taking, disbelief that he had come back after what he had been through, more disgust. That one wasn’t terribly strange, as it was always there, but it was still annoying how little he had done to deserve the treatment that he was receiving. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, sighing. A long day indeed.

“Midoriya, if you aren’t even going to attempt to pay attention to the work then there is no point to you even being here. I realize you likely need to catch up, but at least pay attention.” Without even opening his eyes, Midoriya responded

“Because f is odd, f(x)= −f(−x). For x < 0, −x > 0 and f(−x) = 3 sin(−x)+4 cos(−x) = −3 sinx+4 cosx by definition. Hence, for x < 0, f(x)= −(−3 sinx+4 cosx) = 3 sinx−4 cosx. Is that sufficient as an answer for you?” Izuku opened his eyes and looked his teacher dead in the eyes. “That being said, you're going to struggle yourself with getting the right answer, as you graphed the original equation incorrectly.”

Sputtering, the teacher looked from Izuku to the board, to the problem, and back again. “That is correct. Thank you for your answer, Midoriya.” Leaning his head back once more, Izuku listened to the whispers this exchange had created. All he could do was shake his head and continue to listen to the lesson that held no real value for him. That teacher didn’t call on him again for the rest of the period.

…

The bell for lunch finally rang, granting Izuku at least a momentary reprieve from the mind-numbing lessons. Stepping into the restroom, Midoriya leaned down, dipping his hands in the sink and splashing his face. Leaning there against the sink, he rubbed his eyes.

“Well well. Look here, the useless nerd makes his return. What, didn’t learn your place a year ago? Bakugo rumbled from behind him, hands crackling like an impending thunderstorm.

Oh good, now I have to deal with this jackass. How did I manage this before? Deal with everyone acting as if others were less than human? I just got done fighting against one group that thought this way. And is that pride I hear in his voice? Is he proud that he was in some way responsible for a year-long coma? That thought horrified Izuku more than any other. Did he truly think that this behavior was suitable for someone who wanted to be a hero? Taking a deep breath and trying to relax his natural instinct to the sound of explosions now, Izuku opened his eyes.

---

“OI, DEKU. DON’T YOU IGNORE ME.” Bakugo roared and was reaching for him when Deku opened his eyes and stared him in the eye from the mirror. The look in those eyes froze Bakugo for a moment. He took a step back, and it was as if the very temperature in the air had dropped.

Deku turned to him and said in a voice too calm, too cold, to be the Deku he knew,“Well, Bakugo, it does seem that some things never change. You have made it abundantly clear. We are not friends, and we haven’t been in a very long time. So let me give you one warning and one warning only. I am not in the mood for this. ” Deku went to step past Katsuki. That single step was all it took to make something snap inside of him.

“HOW DARE YOU LOOK DOWN ON ME YOU QUIRKLESS PIECE OF sh*t.” Bakugo swung his fist at Deku. Hand crackling with small explosions. The sweet caramel smell of nitroglycerin flooding the air of the relatively small restroom. He was going to show this worthless piece of sh*t where he belonged. He wouldn’t get away with speaking to him like that. If a year didn’t show him where he belonged, he would have to make it another.

---

Izuku took a step forward as if to leave the restroom when Bakugo screeched and swung at him. His lips pressed into a thin line as he raised his left arm, pushing Bakugo’s right hook off course before grabbing his wrist in his right. Grabbing his shoulder at his rotator muscle with his left hand, he used Katsuki’s own momentum to wrench his arm behind his shoulder blade and push him forward and over. His shoulder made a horrific pop at the same time his face slammed down onto the bathroom counter, breaking his nose. By this point, his mouth had twisted into a snarl.

“Is this what you wanted Katsuki? Did you want to prove yourself better than the cripple in your head? What sick, twisted logic did you have to use to get yourself to this point? That someone worthless in your mind somehow has so much power over you.” Izuku growled it at Bakugo before letting him go with a shove. Sighing, Izuku shook his head and turned to leave the restroom, this time unimpeded. Just before exiting, he stopped at the door. Looking over his shoulder at Katsuki still bleeding on the floor, he stared into Bakugo with eyes entirely too old, too experienced, and too sad to be the eyes of a fourteen-year-old. Izuku whispered one last thing before leaving Katsuki bleeding on the floor.

“Well, Kachan, you succeeded in one thing. The Midoriya Izuku you knew died in that alleyway. I certainly won’t be following you any longer.”

…

Midoriya sat with his bento on his lap and his back to the fence lining the roof. He had never felt welcome in the cafeteria. Too many hostile eyes staring at him from all angles. But up here, there was something peaceful about it. It was quiet, and the wind slowly ruffled his hair, providing him a companionship that he hadn’t had for a long time at this school. Just as he finished his mother's cooking that she had prepared for him, and never again would he ever take it for granted, the intercom crackled, requesting his presence in the principal's office. Of course it was.

Well, if this was how it was going to go down, then let's dance.

…

There were a lot of things that Midoriya expected when he walked into the principal's office. What he hadn’t expected to see was Mitsuki and Masaru Bakugo sitting with their son, who , to some small bit of satisfaction for Izuku, was sitting there with his arm in a sling, paper towels stuffed up his nose, and a nice dark bruise blooming to life on his cheekbone. Katsuki and Mitsuki were giving him an absolutely venomous look, while poor Masaru simply looked confused by the whole situation. His own mother was sitting pale-faced across from them, staring at what Izuku had done to Katsuki.

“Good, now that Mr. Midoriya is here, we can talk about how we are going to proceed with his expulsion.” The principal was the first to speak after Izuku had walked into the room. He was a short, fat man, by either genetics or his own personal inaction. Izuku wasn’t sure which it was, but in the end it didn’t particularly matter. When he spoke of expulsion, Katsuki gained a smug smirk on his face, which his own mother mirrored. It was only Inko that started sputtering, assuring the principal that there had to be some misunderstanding and that Izuku wouldn’t do something like this. Before the principal could respond, Mitsuki cut in.

“Are you calling my son a liar, Inko?! Because he certainly didn’t do this to himself.” The principal cut back in with a smirk.

“Yes, indeed. Which is why I will be expelling Mr. Midoriya effective immediately. We obviously can’t keep someone clearly so violent in this school where he could hurt someone again. Besides that, we also couldn’t do something that would make our star pupil so uncomfortable. After all, what would he think if his attacker was still walking the halls?” Before any one of them could speak another word, before Inko could defend her son, even before Mitsuki could agree, Izuku spoke. And when he spoke, each person in the room stilled. Katsuki’s eyes blew wide when he heard the tone. It was a tone that he had never heard from Deku’s mouth before and a tone he never wanted to hear again. In an absolutely sickly sweet tone laced with the most concentrated acid, Izuku spoke confidently only a few words.

“Oh no, Mr. Principal , I don’t think you’ll be taking that course of action at all.” The principal swallowed before responding. Izuku’s presence filled the room, demanding their attention.

“And why would that be young man?” Izuku smiled, and when he did, the principal was sure in that moment that the smile would haunt his dreams.

“Well sir, you see.” Izuku shrugged out of his uniform jacket. “I do wonder what would happen to the school if you were to choose that course of action. After all, which do you think will catch more media time? The headline, ‘Quirkless student beats up star pupil,’ or 'After years of abuse, Quirkless boy finally snaps. Fights back against Tormentor.'” The principal stopped seeing this young boy as a boy at all.

“Are you trying to blackmail us, son? The media would never believe you, and even if they did, they wouldn’t give a quirkless nothing like you the time of day.” The principal sat forward, staring Izuku in the eyes, but froze when his smile widened further, becoming very cold. The hint of acid that had been there before suddenly became readily apparent.

“Finally showing your true colors, are you? But blackmail? No no, you misunderstand. I’m not blackmailing you at all. I’m simply informing you of what will happen if you choose to go through with expelling me. Not that I plan on sticking around anyway, as I will be withdrawing from your oh so fine institution following this conversation regardless of the decision you make.” Izuku very carefully began unbuttoning his dress shirt starting with his wrist cuffs. “You see, sir. The media may not give a quirkless nobody the time of day, you are correct. But given evidence and a police investigation into not only a school but their star pupil, I'm quite sure that it would then be a story well worth airing all over the country and I do wonder what would become of a school so thoroughly disgraced.”

“What do you mean police investigation, young man?” The principal looked mildly shaken at the statement. The media was one thing. They could fend off the media well enough, but if the police were involved, public record wasn’t quite as easy to deal with.

“Oh, that's quite simple really.” Izuku allowed his dress shirt to drop away, the smile still blazing away on his face. Initially, everyone in the room had watched the shirt as it dropped to the ground. But then their eyes were drawn back up to Izuku’s arms, chest, and back. There, across what should have been fairly immaculate fourteen-year-old skin, lay a network of starburst scar tissue. His right shoulder was almost completely scarred. But what was very obvious was the handprint that had been seared like a brand into his shoulder. “I do think the police will want to find out about this, don't you think? Besides that, you seem to be under the impression that when the police come here to investigate that they won’t find the blood spattered across the hallways. The claw marks on the inside of dark closet doors from students trying to escape. That they won’t find all of the misery and abuse that YOU, my dear principal, have allowed to fester here.” Izuku’s voice had dropped in pitch into practically a growl. “Let me assure you, principal, just in case you thought you had hidden and cleaned it up. Bleach won't stop them from finding the blood.”

By this point, the blood had entirely drained from Mitsuki’s face. She barely managed to choke out her words as Izuku calmly picked his shirt up and began pulling it back on.

“What have you done, Katsuki? What the hell have you done?” Her voice was barely a horrified whisper.

“It doesn’t matter, you old hag. He deserved it. Who cares anyway? He's a useless, quirkless piece of sh-” Bakugo never got to finish that sentence before his father roared his name at him. His father never spoke up. Never got angry. But the look on his face now was a mixture of horror and unbridled fury.

“I see at least your parents understand the ramifications of your actions.” Izuku had finished buttoning his dress shirt and simply gave the principal one last cold smile. “So. Are you going to accept my withdrawal, or are you going to expel me.”

The principal said nothing as he looked to Inko, who had been silent through most of this. “Well, Mrs. Midoriya, it would be up to you whether or not to sign off on the withdrawal forms.” Inko wasted no time looking the principal in the eyes. Quietly, Inko stood up and stepped forward the few steps to the principal's desk.

“If you think for even a second after hearing all of that. That my Izuku will ever be anywhere near this school again. Then you are a very stupid man.” The calm rage in Inko’s voice didn’t scare him nearly as well as the show Izuku had just put on. But the message was received loud and clear all the same. Mitsuki, however, was very, very certain that she was scared of Inko right now. She had only seen her this angry once, and she doubted that man ever regained use of his lower extremities.

Before Izuku left the room with his mother, he stopped. Turning once again, he addressed the Bakugo family.

“I am sorry that it came to this, Auntie. I didn’t want it to end on such a sour note. You and Uncle Masaru were always so kind to me.” Izuku gave them a sad smile before his face hardened and he turned to the door. “And Katsuki.” Bakugo grudgingly looked over to where Izuku stood in the doorway. “Take a hard look at yourself after this. Because right now? You're nothing more than a villain.” With that parting comment, Izuku stepped out the door, not to be seen by Bakugo again for several years.

Chapter 4: Chapter #4 | A New Beginning

Chapter Text

The trip home from Aldera was tense. Perhaps that was putting it lightly. Inko’s face was a mixture of emotions. Horror, sorrow, consternation, self-loathing, and righteous fury were each taking their turns and sometimes even mixing. By the time they had stepped through the door, Izuku was fairly certain that if he’d had his knife on him then he could have cut the tension and served it on a plate. Izuku’s eyes tracked his mother as she walked into their home, walked across to their couch, and to Izuku’s shock, immediately broke down into a crying mess. Of all of the reactions, he hadn't expected this to be one of them. Anger at effectively being kicked out of his school, or at him ruining an age-old friendship with the Bakugo family. He had not expected what was effectively a full breakdown.

It was some time before Izuku had managed to calm his mother enough they could talk. Despite this, her voice still cracked when she asked him to explain.

“Where would you like me to start?” Izuku responded slowly, not quite sure how much he should tell her. From what he had gathered during her sobbing, she blamed herself for Izuku’s suffering.

“From the start Izuku. How long has this been going on? I thought Katsuki was your friend? Why did you never say anything? I knew there was bullying, but you wouldn’t talk to me and I just stood by. Oh god, I just stood by when I should have stepped in and demanded answers. I should have stopped this from getting this far.” Inko was slowly slipping back into her spiral, and Izuku spoke up before she could go any farther with her train of thought. Still, he sighed, if he wanted to reach his end goal here, she would have to know a lot of what he had hidden. He only hoped she could forgive herself, as he had never once blamed her.

“Well, when you ask when it started and how long it's been going on, it's hard to answer exactly. When I was diagnosed quirkless is when things started to change for me. You know how society views the quirkless. Even if the government makes all sorts of rules and laws otherwise, well, actions speak louder than words, and the way we’re treated? It says a lot more than their words. As for Katsuki. Well, that would have been around the time he got his quirk, as well. I suppose, though, I didn’t see that clearly until much later. He became arrogant, prideful. He was the best, and only he could be the best. Anyone that didn’t fall in line with him were targets. Anyone he viewed as lesser than him were targets, regardless. Hence his particular violence when it came to me. My quirklessness makes me a prime target to make him feel better about himself. For some sick, twisted reason or another. I didn’t talk to you because, well, because I didn’t see anything wrong with it myself for a long time. I just thought it was the natural order of things. After all, that's what has been instilled into us for so long. You shouldn’t blame yourself. I never have. You couldn’t have helped, and to be honest, some of this, such as the discrimination, will likely continue wherever I go.” Izuku sighed, sorrow leaching into his voice as he went on, as he recited a dark part of his history with a new point of view. He leaned back, eyes losing their focus. Looking no longer at his mother but past her to a place no one should ever go. “I’ve had. Well, I’ve had a lot of time to think in this last… year. The conclusion I came to was that I was done dealing with being treated like I was a second-class human simply because of the lack of a tool. Because that's what quirks are. A unique tool to each person.” Izuku shook his head and snorted “Hell, with the way things are, only a handful of people aren’t a criminal if they use their quirks anyway. You would think that it wouldn’t matter.”

Inko throws herself into him, crushing him in her embrace. He could feel the back of his shirt becoming soaked through with her tears, and she was sobbing once again. All Izuku could do was rub small circles into her back, doing his best to comfort his mother. Although he had long accepted that many of these things had been done to him, it was different for his mother. She was just now learning the true extent of the discrimination in this society.

Discrimination in this society, huh? Well, that's a little too familiar. Izuku breathed deep and his mother pulled back, looking deep into his eyes. Her own emerald, shimmering with tears.

“Promise me, Izuku, that if something is truly bothering you, you’ll tell me. Don’t keep everything to yourself. I ca- I can’t do this again.”

“Don’t worry, mom.” Izuku shook his head. “I don’t plan on dealing with these things myself anymore. A man on his own can face other men. A man with a support network can face the entire world.” Inko stepped back a little confused as to where the words of wisdom had come from but perfectly satisfied in his answer. Her eyes lit again and she began pacing. Inko had been stewing on the issues, and now that the sorrowful talk had mostly passed and she’d gotten the promise she wanted out of him, she had clearly worked herself back to fury.

“At the very least I’m not letting you go back there, and I’ll be damned if Mitsuku’s boy is coming anywhere near us from now on. I'm going to make Aldera wish they had never opened their doors at all. I’ll have every one of their teaching licenses by the time I’m done.”

Well, certainly better than crying. But while I’m good with the prior…
“Mom. I’m not saying that we don’t do something about it, but. Well, I have a plan for that. That school won’t be around too much longer. It has to be done carefully though. As much as I want to hate Katsuki, I can’t ruin him yet. Oh don’t get me wrong, I blame him for what he’s done and I can hold him at fault. But. I mean. When was the last time you saw someone tell him no? Tell him what he was doing was wrong? Make him take a look at his actions? No, right now, he’s what society has made him to be. As are all the other students in that school that stood by. I can’t end Katsuki’s career before it can even get started. Not when it could so easily turn him into an actual villain. Not when I’ve long put it behind me. If he decides to continue down this path? Then I have no problem ending him before he begins.” Izuku’s tone had leached into something dark. Something that his mother caught and gave him a worried look. The way he had behaved in the office came back to her. Something was different about her Izuku since he had woken up. He seemed… older and more jaded. It worried her, but seeing as he had promised he’d tell her if something was bothering him, she’d let it go for now. Maybe he was just being honest with her for the first time. “Besides all that, I think that the school problem may be self-solving. I, ah, may be a little bit ahead of my classes.”

Inko stops her pacing long enough to narrow her eyes at Izuku. “We’ll leave the discussion on what to do about the school and the Bakugos for another time. What do you mean ahead of your classes? Exactly how far ahead of them are you?” Izuku withers under his mother's stare. He may be mentally old enough to be an adult, but never will he be able to stand up to his mother's stare.

“Heh. Eh. Ah. I might be a few... Years?” Decades “Ahead? I studied a lot? I could ace the content without looking at it and the teachers weren’t fond of the idea of the quirkless student outdoing the others so they never let me move on?” It wasn’t a lie, Izuku thought. He certainly could have answered, if not taught the subjects, better than most the teachers. Besides that, the augmentations had granted him a borderline photographic memory and spiked his IQ through the roof. So anything that he might not have learned, he would have picked up very quickly. “I think it would probably be for the best if I found online classes that let me finish things at my own pace. It would be a better gauge of my abilities than school has been thus far, at least.”

Inko rubbed at her eyes. It would lack social interaction and that was an issue. But if it let Izuku catch up to where he should be, then that issue could be dealt with later. Weary, she sighed, tired from the day's events, and sat back down. “Looks like you got Hisashi’s intelligence then. Alright. Alright, find a couple good options and we’ll look over them together.” Izuku could see the weary way she held herself now. She was reaching her limits for bullsh*t for the day, and quite frankly, he could relate to that on a spiritual level right now. But if this conversation was going to go how he figured it would, then he should just get it out of the way.

“Mom. Something happened with him while I was in the coma, didn’t it? I can’t help but notice things are different. Hisashi’s photos are gone, things that were left here that were his are gone now. What did he do?” Izuku broached the topic carefully, unsure of what the answer was going to be.

“Well, when you were attacked, I contacted him on I-Island. Long story short, he stated I shouldn’t worry about you.” Izuku narrowed his eyes. Is that so? He suspected that his father had said far more than she was letting on, but he wasn’t going to push her if she didn’t want to talk. It would be easy enough to check into anyway. Yet another thing to add to his growing list of things to do.

…

A couple weeks had passed since the events at Aldera and Izuku sweatdropped as he stared at his computer screen. He had only started his online schooling a week prior and now he was staring at the completion screen for his sophom*ore year of high school. He had known he was ahead, but there had been several factors he hadn’t anticipated. First, as it turned out, he remembered far more than he thought he had regarding his education. Sure, his language classes had taken him a moment to dust off the languages of this world. But after that learning, it was nothing compared to Osmian, Phurian, or the slew of languages he had to learn in the academy for cryptography. Secondly, he had evidently brought more than just a couple of the genetic splicings they’d endured. Only time would tell just how many had come with him, but right now they were reactivating as he worked his body back into shape.

He’d only needed to sleep thrice in the last two weeks, and all three times had ended just as his first night had. Izuku shook his head, leaning back in his chair to stare at his ceiling. He’d have to talk to someone eventually, he logically knew that. They had been trained with the knowledge of what they were doing to themselves. Even still, he couldn’t help but feel that he shouldn’t bother. He was living something like a second life, and he should feel blessed at the chance. But why him? Why not Sergeant Reed? Sergeant Wilson? Didn’t they do as much, if not more than him? He shook his head once more to clear his thoughts.

Don’t think like that. You know where that kind of thought process leads. You’ve seen it before. Don’t go there. Izuku could feel himself getting twitchy. He had too much energy right now. It served him wonderfully when he was running field operations or working on a project, but this didn’t challenge him in the slightest. Hmm. Project, eh? His brain flashed back to Dagobah Beach. He could start cleaning the beach. But he knew that it wouldn’t be enough. Not unless he wanted to be out on the beach cleaning in the wee hours of the morning. While an option, he wasn’t quite that desperate yet. His mother wouldn’t like the idea, and while the area was safe enough, he didn’t particularly want to explain to the police why he had broken someone's spine for trying to mug him at three in the morning. I bet that beach has plenty of materials buried in there that are still usable, though. I’ll be needing gear anyway if. Izuku stopped mid-thought, frowned, and sat up. Did he even still want to be a hero? He had certainly wanted to be one before the coma. But now? Could he call himself a hero with the things he had done? Done to others? No, he knew he was no hero. He still wanted to help people, though, that hadn’t changed. Police? No, too constrained by rules and red tape. Medical? He didn’t want to help people only after the incident had already occurred. That would be a waste of his training. Vigilante? He wouldn’t be doing anything illegal, technically. For once his quirkless status could actually help him there; however, he would still be chased down on the technicalities of his gear and those laws. Military again? No. Not that there was an issue with the military. If anyone understood what they did it was him, but he wouldn’t be satisfied with that in this world as it is now. In the end, heroics was his only choice. He’d take the license to be a hero, Izuku decided. If only so that he could help people without the law getting in the way. But he certainly wouldn’t ever consider himself one.

…

Izuku wiped his brow of sweat as he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders. Then his elbows, wrists, fingers, spine, knees, and ankles cracked as well. He winced when everything else cracked with his neck. Izuku had managed to convince the city to lend him a series of dumpsters that would be emptied each morning in exchange for his community service of cleaning the beach. It had taken entirely too many arguments to get even that, considering that this beach was supposed to be their responsibility in the first place. But he had them now, so that detail didn’t particularly matter. He had only been at it for a couple days, but anyone could already see the difference. Where Izuku had once been nothing more than a walking twig with a bush of hair on his head, now he was sporting dense muscle up and down his body that clearly showed with his monochrome shorts and tank top. His hair pulled back into its ponytail where it was out of his way for the beach cleanup. Between the beach and his regimented exercise routine, he was rapidly regaining the muscle he’d had before waking up. Much like the beach, though, progress towards his goals was slow. Izuku had been about right before in his estimates regarding the trash. Thirty feet at its deepest points and at least five at a minimum at its thinnest. This resulted in mountains and dunes of refuse and abandoned parts. He was pretty sure there had been one or two cars he had already seen buried, and he’d only surveyed about 20% of the trash mountains thus far.

While it had disgusted Izuku initially as to just what some people considered trash, he found it helped him quite a lot. Everything from common scrap metal, of which was plentiful, to old platinum cased lighters. Any kind of precious metal like that always made Izuku jump for joy. Those could be repurposed for all sorts of things later if he got access to some kind of forge. Platinum in specific was incredibly hard to come by and was wondrous when making electrodes. Not that he had delved too deeply into the mechanical side of things. That had always been left to their unit's two engineering sergeants with Izuku handling the biological side of things. But right now, Izuku had all the time in the world and, for once, all the information he could want at his fingertips. So he would be damned if he wasn’t going to take the opportunity to learn. He looked around at what he had accomplished in the last while. A path had been cut through the mountains of trash to about halfway into the beach where a large circular clearing sat. From the other side of the clearing, the path continued on until the water. Sadly, the first time the water was likely able to reach the sand unimpeded in years. One pile sat in the middle of the clearing. Particularly useful salvage or pieces that could be repurposed went into the pile. Otherwise, a very clear line of footprints from the beach to the dumpster detailed where Izuku had made countless treks to remove the useless, defunct, cannibalized, or legitimate garbage.

“Well,” Izuku muttered, “progress is progress, I suppose. Time to load up and head home.” Retrieving his empty bag from the side of the clearing, Izuku stepped over to the pile in the middle of the clearing. Initially, when he had asked his mother to use their spare room as a workshop, he doubted she had been expecting him to start bringing in actual materials. Not that he had started too much in the way of actual work quite yet. Right now, it was mostly a dozen blueprints that he considered for the future and a few dozen more that he wanted to get replicated quickly so that he would have access to the materials he needed for more complex projects. There would be a lot of work to get the kinks worked out even if he had a mechanical background. As it was, he would be learning as he went. Which he didn’t mind, but it would certainly cause a certain loss of resources that he wasn’t sure was feasible until he could secure a source of funds. Perhaps if I crea- Izuku was snapped out of his thoughts as he heard the crunch of sand under boots behind him. Spinning, he dropped both his bag and himself into a low stance ready for whatever might be behind him. Behind him stood a short girl that he expected was about his age, with pink hair and a wild look in her eyes. She wore a black tank top that could have done with being a size larger as it showed her curves that were, frankly, incredibly well developed for their age. At her waist, a tool belt filled with a variety of gadgets hung over grey cargo pants and was completed by black combat boots.

“YOU! YOU'RE THE ONE STEALING MY SCRAP!” She barely had gotten the cry out before she lunged forwards towards Izuku. Izuku was not ready for what was behind him.

Chapter 5: Chapter #5 | Oracles of Hephaestus and Apollo

Chapter Text

Startled, Izuku took a step back from the charging girl. Why on earth was there someone charging him? And flailing a wrench around in the air to top it off? As startled as he was, Izuku had still drilled the response into his body and didn’t need to think about it when he prepared to step forward and disarm the girl. Before he could, the girl's foot caught on a piece of stray metal and sent her careening face-first into the sand, sliding to a stop just in front of Izuku. Izuku waited a moment and when the girl twitched, lifting her head to glare at him, he coughed.

“Well. That was certainly something. Are you alright? Miss?” Izuku addressed the girl now at his feet. The girl stood up in her skid mark, dusting herself off before striking a pose.

“I am the one and only Hatsume Mei! Remember the name because I’ll soon be the biggest name in Hero Support! And you. You are the one that is stealing all my project scrap!” Hatsume swang her wrench at Izuku, missing when he sidestepped her. He began explaining to her while lazily dodging her rambunctious flailing, sand skittering across the beach with each movement.

“First of all, Miss Hatsume, this beach is an illegal dumping ground, and I am doing my best to clean it up. While I am using this as strength training, you are more than welcome to join me out here and take whatever you would like with you, as, once again, I am cleaning it up. Besides that, it is scrap, as you pointed out. It doesn’t have an owner any longer, and you aren’t the only one that needs parts.” Hatsume froze mid-swing at that. Breathing deeply, eyes narrowing at Izuku, her crosshair pupils dilating back and forth as she scanned over his body.

She took him in carefully, toned muscle that was just shy of screaming jacked even if he was on the lithe side. Grit and grime in his nail beds with calluses forming on his hands and fingers. His skin was spattered with grime, oil, and grease from cleaning. She took in the parts peeking out of Izuku's bag. Though she didn’t generally admit it, he looked good. Not in the ‘oh my god he’s so attractive’ kind of way, not that she didn’t think that rippling muscle and motor grease was attractive, but in the ‘clearly he’s working on something and he knows his stuff’ kind of way. She lowered her wrench to her side, placing it back into her toolbelt.

“I may just do that. You said others needed scrap too. I’ve come here for parts for a while and I’ve not seen anyone else. That leaves you the one needing parts as the others part of that. Am I right? Another inventor?” Hatsume had slid from aggressive to cool. If she was going to have a competitor scrapping from the same place then she would certainly need to keep an eye on them. Besides that, she couldn’t let him get to all the good stuff first. There had to be some treasures buried in those mountains.

“I suppose you can call me that.” Izuku rubbed the back of his head, frowning. “I’m working on some gear plans for getting into the hero course, but I’m running into roadblocks. Most of my knowledge lies in the biological sciences, not the mechanical. So some of the pieces I need to prepare for some of the gear is a struggle to create.” He felt a chill run up his spine and focused his attention back onto Hatsume from where he had been thinking about his blueprints. Her gaze, at some point, went from the cold analytical stare that it had been, to some kind of hungry animal sizing him up for dinner. She grabbed him suddenly and started feeling him up and muttering to herself. “Woah there!” Izuku backed out of her grasp quickly, a noticeable heat rising to his cheeks. “Just what exactly do you think you're doing?”

Hatsume smiled a wide, feral smile. “You're going to be a hero,” she said, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “I’m going to be a hero support technician, and luckily for you, my specialty is in the realm of mechanics.” She grabbed Izuku’s arm again, dragging him along. “Come, we have to get to my workshop. I have so many babies I can show you. We have to make so many babies if we’re going to get you into the hero course.”

“Wait WHAT.” Izuku slammed his feet into the sand. “I have no problem with going to your workshop and talking gear, but what the hell is this about babies.” Hatsume released him and pulled what looked suspiciously like a collapsible baton from her toolbelt. Flicking her wrist, she extended it, and after pressing the button on the base of it, it turned out Izuku was right. It was a baton. This baton, however, was clearly electrified. The entire body of the baton crackled with lightning as Hatsume cackled.

“This is one of my best babies so far. Most stun batons cap out somewhere around nine million volts, but I’ve managed to not only double the volts and then some, it comes in at just around twenty million volts while keeping the amperage down below the .2 lethal threshold, but I’ve also managed to electrify the entire rod rather than just the tip!” Hatsume babbled about her electrified rod while Izuku sweatdropped from the crackling power far too close for comfort.

“You call your inventions your babies.” It wasn’t so much a question, as Izuku had gotten that much, but more of a statement of disbelief that he had managed to run into someone that was both insane enough and smart enough to help him with what he needed to do.

“Obviously, now let's get going!” Before Hatsume could grab him again, Izuku dipped back out of the way.

“Let me grab my stuff and we’ll stop by your workshop before I head home.” Izuku was planning. She was strange, that much wasn’t even a question. She was obsessed with her "babies," as she put it, to the extent that she swung a wrench at his head when she thought he was going to impede her ability to create. She was clearly intelligent if the portable lightning rod of hers was of any indication. She was off on the voltage for an actual lightning bolt but- not helping. He was digressing, and he needed to think. If she was capable of that, then he may be able to use her mechanical knowledge to supplement his own while he learned. He may just be able to get a business partner out of it, as well. She wanted to stay in support, it would seem, and he wouldn’t have time as a hero to run all the tests he wanted quickly once he had a license. Certainly something for the future.

Izuku picked up his bag full of parts and, after a second of thought, picked up an old abused guitar that had been resting against a wall of refuse. It had certainly seen better days. It was scuffed to all hell, the finish on it was wearing off, and several of the strings would need to be replaced, but it was still serviceable. Some sandpaper, some new finish, new stain, new strings. Assuming nothing crazy was wrong with it, it would be good to be able to play again. It would certainly help to keep his mind from wandering. He forcibly stopped that thought line there.

“Alright, Hatsume, let's see this workshop of yours.”

…

If Izuku was honest, he had expected a garage with some workbenches. Maybe some gadgets strewn around and a few blueprints hanging from the walls. Something similar to what his workshop was creeping towards. What he was met with was similar but more advanced. Hatsume had a series of machines that would prove useful to her work and a forge against the left wall upon walking in. Straight ahead, the wall was covered in shelves of gadgets, parts, and blueprints. The right wall had piles of scrap against it and what looked like a sad futon that was kind of half resting against the wall, half sagging to the ground. Izuku got the feeling that the futon saw more use than Hatsume’s actual bed. The floor was concrete, which was only discernible by either feeling it beneath you or by looking at the edges of the room, as the center of the room's concrete had been long singed black from what appeared to be blast marks. The walls were plain, beside the blueprints, gadgets, and plethora of sound dampening pads.

“Welcome to Casa de la Hatsume. I have almost everything I could want right now in this workshop. I’ll have access to better materials and machines once I get into UA, of course, but for now, this will do.” Izuku quirked his eyebrow at her when she spun in a circle to look at him.

“Home of the Hatsume? Just how much time do you spend here that you refer to it as home?” Hatsume threw her hands in the air with a grin on her face.

“All of it! Now, let's get your measurements! I want to adjust a few of my babies. While I do that, you sketch out some of your designs you want my help with or advice on.” Hatsume wasted absolutely no time in pulling at Izuku’s bag and rushing him to set his things down. He smiled for the first time in a while. He couldn’t help it. Her single-minded energy was absolutely infectious.

“Alright, Hatsume. Let's get to work then.”

…

By the time Izuku had finished at Hatsume’s workshop, the sun was dipping just under the horizon. Its orange hue had long since lost its luster and slipped instead into deep lilac and azure rays streaking through a steadily darkening sky. He chuckled a bit, thinking about his appearance and what others must think of him right now. His hair was pulling itself out of where he had tied it back and was sticking up in multiple places. He was covered in any number of substances ranging from oil and grease to soot from the innumerable explosions that Hatsume somehow managed to cause. Izuku smiled and shook his head, chuckling. How does one even manage to light pneumatic tubing on fire? He had no idea, and likely never would. The walk back home was calming for Izuku. The explosions had set him on edge, even if he had enjoyed the experiments. He had agreed to bring some of his blueprints for them to work on the next time he could stop by. Hatsume had gotten all starry-eyed when he had shown her sketches of a compact wrist-mounted crossbow and grappling hook design that he was blueprinting.

Hopefully, I’ll be able to convince her to let me use her forge at some point. Gun laws have come a long way in Japan since the mid-two-thousands and the early twenty-first. It's not impossible to get a handgun and carry permit here anymore. I suppose that's one thing I can thank quirks for. Even if they stunted our growth as a species, at least they’ve made guns seem like useless toys. Which couldn’t be further from the truth, frankly. Pretty sure except for a few percent, most don’t have a quirk to deal with a subsonic round much less a supersonic one. Even still, it would be far easier to cast my own parts after carving a resin mold. I doubt I’ll find one to my tastes here. Hatsume and I would need to make some serious progress before I go trusting her with potentially world-changing technologies. The fusion reactors, battery tech to go with, and a lot of my gear will have to wait until I'm sure I can partner with her through it all. I’m sure as hell not trusting a slightly crazy stranger with rail weapons even if she does seem nice.

Izuku shifted his bag on his right shoulder, while his left hand held the sad guitar in his left, as he stepped up to the door of his home. He had managed to get the sandpapering done while bouncing ideas with Hatsume in her workshop, but it still needed a new finish and stained along with a new set of strings. When he entered, he found his mother asleep at the table waiting for him. She looked calm in her sleep without any of the stress that he had initially seen when he first had come home from the hospital.

She worries far too much about me. It's good to see her resting like this. She deserves a good life after what she’s put up with to get here. Gently, Izuku put down his bag and the newly sanded guitar before picking his mother up and carrying her back to her room to sleep in her bed. When he returned with a smile on his lips, he picked up his bag before looking around. The smile slid away and his eyes slipped into ice as he was reminded of Hisashi. I do think that I’ll find out what you’ve been up to, father dearest.

Izuku returned to his room after setting his bag and the guitar in his workshop. Sitting down at his computer, he got to work setting up the same encryption scheme and proxy that they had used in the Black Cats. Admittedly, he had to make some minor adjustments owing to the different architecture of the devices, but he made do.

Not quite as perfect as Sergeant Reed would have set up, but then again, I’m pretty sure that man could have brought every nation here on earth to their knees within a week, so that'll have to suffice. The thought caused a sad smile to twitch at Izuku’s lips. The man had been a genius amongst geniuses when it came to technology.

The image of a bloody vest flashed across his eyes. A kind face with a head of blond hair shaped into a fohawk. Bright blue eyes, staring up into his own Emerald with a smile. He yelled at the man to stay with him. His hands were covered in blood as he desperately tried to stop the bleeding. So much blood that it was everywhere. Up his arms, covering his vest, pooling below the communication sergeants back. Even if his medical training told him it was too late, he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop trying. Couldn’t lose another Black Cat.

Izuku snapped back to the present with a shuddering breath and a sprint to the bathroom. Desperately, he ran cold water over his pale, clammy skin. As he looked into the mirror, he could still see the horrors that lurked behind his eyes. He clenched them shut and focused on his breathing. His hands shook even as he used them to splash more cold water on his face. He couldn't think of that now. He had work to do, and it wouldn’t help anyone if he thought of that now. He took one last shuddering breath before drying his face and hands.

By the time Izuku had sat back down, he was once again focused on his task. He’d start with the telecommunications servers. He’d get any record of communication between his mother and Hisashi. If he was simply reading too much into the situation, and was violating her privacy for nothing, then he would drop it there. But if he found what he expected, he would then move onto I-Island's servers. Those would be a little harder to manage since the security supposedly rivaled the supposedly non-existent, clearly existent prison Tartarus. Even if it was technically supposed to be a secret facility, it had long since been exposed to the public. But much like Guantanamo Bay in the twenty-first, people would prefer to simply look away rather than confront the harsh truth of what their society did to villains. If Izuku found what he expected to find, then Hisashi would wish that he was in Tartarus rather than I-Island.

…

Izuku glanced at his clock when he heard his mother getting up for the day. Quietly, he saved and then closed the information documents he had been compiling. Eight in the morning and what he had found since he began digging had caused him to long since pass disgust. He had long since passed rage. Now what sat within him was a cold fury that would make Hisashi rue the day he was ever born. While his mother and Hisashi had talked a bit since the coma, for the most part, almost all communication had ceased from him. As it turned out, when his mother had said that she was told to not worry about him, what had actually happened is that there was a long argument regarding their quirkless child finally becoming less of a problem for everyone. From there, what he found only spiraled. The man was a quirkist asshole that loved lording his power over his department. From the video camera footage he had managed to strip out of their mainframes, it turned out that the man was sleeping with at least three members of said department. That’s not even to mention the other dozen or so violations of his contract, much less human decency. The man wouldn’t be getting away with his actions or behavior, even if he had to fly to the damn Island himself to wring his neck.

Deep breaths. You can’t do anything about it now. Just catalog and compile his actions. You’ll get your chance to deal with him. You left your monitor on their servers before you got booted by their security systems. You’ll have plenty to crucify him with soon enough. Izuku stepped out into the kitchen and hugged his mother from behind. She was debating what to make for breakfast when he slipped up behind her. Inko was momentarily startled before realizing it was Izuku.

“Well aren’t you up early today. What do you want for breakfast today, Izu?” Izuku shook his head and ushered her towards the living room.

“I’ll make breakfast this morning. You go sit and drink your coffee.” Inko sputtered slightly at the forceful way that she was ejected from her kitchen. But she certainly wasn’t going to argue with Izuku making breakfast. Wait, when did he learn how to cook? Has he been paying that much attention to what I’ve been doing?

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Izuku quickly took stock of what he had to work with and started cooking. High protein would be good, considering his routine. When he had finished the cooking, he brought it out to his mother at the table.

“Eggs with Furikake, a small salad, and a Miso soup. I’m certain it isn’t as good as your cooking, mom, but I thought you might want to be the one cooked for, for once.”

Inko smiled at her son. “It smells delicious, honey. I'm sure it’ll be great.” She and Izuku dug into their breakfast, making small talk while doing so. She spoke of some of the dishes she’d been perfecting at work in preparation of adding them to the menu. When asked, Izuku spoke of what his schedule looked like for the day. He’d do a bit more school work, probably finish out his junior year before the end of the week, before heading out to the beach to continue his work.

“I’ll likely head off the beach earlier than usual from now on. I met someone yesterday, and we spent some time working on some designs at her workshop. I’m hoping I’ll be able to make a business partner out of her in the future. After that, I’ll likely head over to the local music store in the next couple of days to pick up some strings for a guitar that I’ve been working on restor-” Izuku cut off when he looked up from his food to find his mother staring at him wide-eyed. Before he could ask what was wrong, she cried out.

“My Izuku has met a girl!” The Midoriya family tears had made their appearance. “When do I get to meet her? What is she like? What does she plan on doing in the future? You have to tell me everyth-” Inko was cut off by Izuku laughing, a smile spread across his face.

“Mom. Mom, stop” Izuku tried to reign in his laughter. Catching his breath, he continued. “Nothing is going on. She's tentatively a friend at most right now. Like I said, I hope I’ll be able to make her my business partner in the future. I can answer a few of those questions though. I don’t know when you’ll get to meet her, as I’m not sure she spends much if not the minimum time outside of her workshop than what is required of her. She’s… passionate is the word I’ll use, about her work.” Izuku decided it would be best to leave out precisely how they had met. “She’s planning on becoming a hero support technician, which is why she latched onto me. She knows I plan on becoming a hero and wants to work with me to make us both the best in our fields.”

Inko had frozen at the mention of the Hero course. Her smile became tense and barely did Inko manage not to let it turn into a frown. Izuku spoke softly, when he saw this, his tone turning more serious and somber, his smile becoming smaller but at the same time soft, as well.

“I know you don’t like the idea, Mom. I’m sorry that I worry you, and don’t deny that it’s a major concern of yours.” Izuku shook his head. “No. I know that you worry about my safety. That you worry if I take this path, I’ll get myself seriously injured or worse because of my lack of a quirk. But Mom, I can’t help but take the path that’ll let me save the most lives. Help the most people.” Inko opened her mouth to respond but, once again, Izuku shook his head. “I know what you're going to say. Why not the police? Why not be a doctor? I got Hisashi’s intelligence from him, so why not become a support technician like my friend?”

Izuku let those questions hang in the air for a moment. “I’ve already thought about those options, Mom, and they aren’t the path for me. The police would be just as dangerous. While unnoticed, they are still at the scene of every Hero operation. I can’t just help people after they’ve been injured, so being a doctor is out. Not that I won’t pursue that route to some degree, it just can’t be the only thing I do.” Izuku let the implications of that sink in. Inko didn’t try to say anything this time. She stared into Izuku’s eyes, so emerald like her own, searching for something. Some hint of hesitation she could use, could playoff to keep her son safe. Izuku reached across the table now and took her hands in his own.

“I can’t promise you that I’ll always come back home safe. I won’t lie to you. I can’t promise that I’ll always be safe when I’m in the field. My first priority will always be an innocent civilian's safety and survival before my own.” Inko watched as her son's eyes saw something in the distance that she couldn’t. Those familiar emerald eyes were now far older than they had any right to be. When he spoke, he spoke with an experience that was impossible for him. Yet it was there. The gravity of his words hung in the air. “The job I’m planning on performing isn’t safe, you're right. Any number of things could happen. But I can’t leave an innocent person in a situation when I could do something about it. What I can promise you,” Izuku squeezed his mother's hands as he took a deep breath, surfacing from whatever memory he was in, “ is that at the end of the day, I’ll do my best to come back. I’ll do my best to make sure everyone gets out safe. This is my home, and that is always worth fighting for. Always worth protecting.”

Inko fought the urge to cry. To beg him to please reconsider, to take some safe position in a remote hospital for her. But she couldn’t. She could see his face when the doctor had diagnosed him quirkless. Could still see his face when she said she was sorry that night. Sorry for so many things. The Izuku she saw in front of her now, though, wasn’t the same scared young boy he used to be. He had grown so much without her even noticing it. He had made up his mind, and while a few tears slipped out, she couldn’t, no. Wouldn't discourage him any further. “Alright.” Inko managed to choke out the word around her emotions. “Be careful, okay? That’s all I suppose I can ask of you.”

Both Midoriya’s gave each other sad smiles before his mother processed something that came before the darker turn to their conversation.

“What do you mean DONE with your junior year!?”

…

Izuku sighed as Hatsume once again ran her numbers, flailing as she did so. “How is this possible?! It isn’t possible. There is no way your muscles and bones are this dense. That's not possible for a human being. Are you certain you don’t have an enhancer quirk that you're not aware of?” Hatsume frantically clawed at her hair, looking at the same results from the last three times she had run the numbers.

Izuku shook his head. He had told her several times at this point he was quirkless, but she continued to doubt him. Though seeing numbers like the ones that she was looking at, it didn’t surprise him why. It had been an important step for them. If she had reacted negatively to him being quirkless, then he would have dropped her immediately. “No, Hatsume. I’ve not any quirk, like I’ve said multiple times, and as I was saying regarding the suit, we’re just going to have to make my gear capable of underwater combat, especially since my muscle and bones will only get denser. The rebreather will be an important part of that.”

Hatsume spun to look at him at the forge from where she was at her desk. “Midoriya, the average human muscle is about 1.06kg per liter. Your muscle density is already triple that and you're telling me it's going to get denser?! This has to be a quirk. There is no other way you could possibly be like this.” Hatsume paced as Izuku put the final touches on what would be the cast for the slide of a handgun. It had been easy enough to get her permission to make something. She was so excited to work with another person, he's pretty sure he could have proposed a nuclear warhead and she'd have said yes.

“Hatsume, if you want, you can have a sample of my blood to run for quirk factor. Of which, you won’t find even if you find a way to get the equipment to run the blood.” Izuku set aside the cast of the slide with the other parts that he had completed and stood up stretching. “Regardless. It doesn’t change what needs to be done or just how badly it needs to be a part of the design. I have no interest in drowning simply because I didn’t take the precautions and ran into a damn water bending quirk.” Hatsume pouted at him.

“Obviously I have no problem putting it in the design, but if we aren’t careful, then the design is just going to get outdated when you suddenly sprout fins and gills. Also, don’t go throwing ATLA references at me to sass me.” Izuku smirked and grabbed his bag, currently empty of scrap, and the guitar that had been drying of its final stain layer. All that was left was to get the new strings.

“That's fair enough. You’ve not had the prior experience with this I have. I’ll see you again tomorrow and we’ll start working on the prototype for the gauntlet. Sound good?” Izuku conceded the point, and Hatsume smiled. They had reworked the design on the wrist crossbow to be modular. The gauntlet would serve as a base for the modules to snap to on the fly, in case he needed to change out what was on his arm or a module got trashed. In addition, Hatsume believed she had come up with a way to minimize the bulk of it until it was effectively mounting to an undersuit that would cover him like a wetsuit. If they could get the idea operating, it would allow them a lot of leeway in the actual gear. Besides that, if Izuku could find a way to replicate Ostum here on earth. He shook that idea away. That would require facilities that he simply wouldn’t have access to. Even if he could remember the exact makeup of the material, which he could, he didn’t have any way to recreate it.

Izuku quickly found himself on a train to the local commercial district. While it wasn’t quite as large, diverse, or generally as populous as if he went into the city, the music store there was well-liked by the area, and he figured he’d go somewhere close. He got off the train and worked his way through the streets until he had reached the storefronts. He found his destination right beside a small family run market and deli. It was a quaint little neighborhood, and if Izuku’d had to resort to using the GPS on his phone, then no one would have to know.

Upon entry into the store, Izuku could see that he was in the right place. Organized rows of instruments lined the walls and show floor. He wandered over to the guitars with his stringless one to find a new set and realized very quickly that he was out of his depth. Steel, nickel, brass, bronze, nylon. Besides that, there were different string cores, winding types, and coatings. An employee evidently had seen his distress, as she had made her way over to him before tapping him on the shoulder.

“May I help you, sir?” The girl was about his age, he noticed. Slender and fair-skinned, she was several inches shorter than him. Short, purple hair sat cropped just above her shoulders, but the most prominent features were her two plug-like jacks where her earlobes were. Izuku chuckled nervously.

“Is it that obvious I needed the help?” Izuku gave her a small, nervous smile. “I’m looking to get strings for this.” Izuku handed the guitar to the girl as he explained. “My friend who taught me how to play was also the one that dealt with these kinds of things. So I have absolutely no idea what I’m looking for here.” Izuku gestured to the wall of string types and varieties. “So in this case, I’d love your help.” Izuku looked down at the tag on her shirt. “Miss Jiro.”

Jiro snorted, still enraptured by the guitar. “You don’t need to call me miss. We’re the same age by the look of things.” Jiro ran her hands up the body of the guitar, admiring the rune-like carvings in the stained surface, as well as the carefully hand-carved icon of a black cat sitting on a moon in the lower right of the guitar. “This is amazing work. Who did you have do this for you? I know all of the guitar makers in the area, and I don’t recognize this work. And what are these symbols? Is that ancient greek?”

Izuku smiled down at the guitar. It was always nice to have your work recognized. Especially if it was someone clearly so enthusiastic about instruments. “I’ve been working on this carefully for the last couple of days. I’m glad you like it, and no, not ancient greek. Something like that though.”

Jiro’s head whipped up. “You did this in only a couple days? The woodworking on this would imply weeks. That's amazing. What does it say?” Izuku continued to smile, practically beaming at her praise.

“It's an old quote from the nineteenth-century author Minot J. Savage. It holds a bit of personal meaning for me. Same with the icon of the cat. 'The brave die never, though they sleep in dust: Their courage nerves a thousand living men.'” Izuku’s smile had taken on a sad tinge, and Jiro looked at him slightly confused but could see the meaning behind the words all the same.

“Well, Mr.?” Jiro held the guitar at its heel in her left hand and reached out with her right. Izuku looked up from the guitar where he had been staring distantly at the engraved symbols and shook her hand.

“Midoriya Izuku.”

“Well, Midoriya, lets get you strung up, shall we? You have, in my opinion, two options for an acoustic guitar like this.” Jiro turned to the wall and started pointing out strings to Izuku. “I personally think the nylon strings sound better when they're being picked, but steel strings sound better when they're strummed.” She glanced over and took one of Izuku’s hands in her own.

“You certainly have the callouses that steel strings wouldn’t be an issue. They tend to hurt people's fingers until they have calluses built up. The nylon strings contribute a warmer, mellower sound to the guitar and are well suited to genres like classical and folk. Meanwhile, the steel strings would be better suited for most other things.” Izuku took the information in as she threw it at him, and he made his decision by the time she had finished.

“I’ll go with steel strings. A lot of what I’ve learned to play leans more towards what would be considered classical or folk, but I think it would be better to have the range.” Jiro smiled at that and brought him to the counter.

“I’ll get this strung up for you, and after that's done, we can get you checked out. It’ll only take a bit to restring the guitar, but it could take an hour or two of playing to break in the strings and let them stay in tune. If you are interested, we could take it over to the deli after I’ve restrung it. I’d love to hear you play some. If that is that your playing skills are half of your woodworking.” Izuku quirked his eyebrow at that, still smiling, though a little embarrassed at the offer.

“Do all employees take such a personal interest in every instrument that comes through?” Jiro blew out her cheeks, slightly pink at that, and looked away.

“Look, it's been a slow day, and you are by far the most interesting person to come in here lately. Don’t let it go to your head. As for the few minutes until close after that, I'm sure my parents can handle it. It's our place, and like I said. It's been slow.” Midoriya smiled and agreed. It would be good to get feedback from someone that, apparently, came from a musical family. He was certain he was likely rusty.

…

It was practically no time before they found themselves sitting at a table out in front of the deli with drinks and small sandwiches. Him with a freshly strung guitar and her with one that she had pulled from the back of the shop. For a while they didn’t play, they sat and talked while finishing off the snack they had picked up. They spoke of many things. What it was like to work in the shop, funny little anecdotes, his projects, some of her ideas for projects. Izuku had learned that her parents were musicians as well as owning the shop. He actually recognized their names when he heard them in full. They weren’t world-class but they were certainly popular within Japan.

When they did play, the air was filled with a serenade of notes. A warm melody that eased the heart and made one think of the good days. Jiro was absolutely blown away by the young man that had come in the shop looking for strings for what appeared to be an exotic guitar. Then he began to sing. In what language, she had no idea, but the message still came through all the same. It sounded like a story of love, loss, and redemption. One that made a heart cry out for better times before Izuku returned to those steady, warm days.

“So is that what you want to do? Follow in their footsteps and become a musician?” Izuku asked her as he finished cleaning up his area. She tensed and frowned before sighing and looking down at her hands.

“I’ll admit, I’m not sure anymore. Used to, I would have said yes to that without hesitation. But lately? I don’t know anymore. I want to help people, but I’m not sure how to do it. Should I go to a hero school? Should I be a musician? Does that make sense?” Jiro looked up to find Izuku nodding. He knew very well what that feeling was like and stated as such.

“I had that very struggle recently myself, so I know all too well. I decided to get a hero license to help people, but is that the only way? No, not at all. Is that the best way to help people? Maybe. Maybe not. That's arguable on multiple fronts and from multiple points for both ways. Police, firefighters, doctors, there are any number of careers that help people. Even musicians, in their own way, have a special ability to inspire that many other careers don’t.”

“If that's the case, what do I do? I hate this feeling of indecision. You seem so resolute in your decision.”

“As corny as it sounds, Jiro, all I can really say is to follow your heart. I didn’t simply look at the pros and cons and go, 'Ah yes, this appears to be the best way.'” Izuku shook his head. “No, quite the opposite. All of the options seemed like good ones. I simply went with the one I felt would suit me the best. Maybe it might not be apparent to you right now, but I’m sure you’ll get there. Here, let's do this.” Izuku pulled a ten yen coin out of his pocket and held it up for Jiro to see.

“This isn’t definite, but I find it helps sort out your feelings occasionally. If the coin lands on the musician's side and you feel disappointed, then it certainly clears up your subconscious thoughts on the matter, yes?” Izuku flipped the coin into the air, but while Jiro’s eyes were on the coin, Izuku’s were looking through the window of the deli and straight at a robber holding up the kind old man who had served them their food. Before the coin even hit the table, Izuku was moving to intercept.

By the time Izuku had stepped through the doors, the robber was already starting to get twitchy. The old man wasn’t moving as fast as the robber would have liked and the robber had a handgun pointed directly at the old man.

Where the hell did he get that from? Japan may be more relaxed, but they are still stringent as hell regarding it. “Hey! What do you think you're doing?” Izuku called out to the robber, his hands already in the air when the man whipped around, face startled and eyes desperate.

No signs of drug use. Pupils are steady if not a bit large from adrenaline. Seems coherent. “Why are you doing this?” Izuku asked the man this calmly, as if it were the most obvious thing to be asked right then.

“What does it matter?!” The man bites out the reply. “It doesn’t matter at this point anyway!” he jerked the gun back to the old man yelling at him to hurry before swinging it back towards Izuku who had crept slightly closer.

“Look. Right now, you're in trouble. I won’t lie and tell you that you aren’t. But right now, you haven’t done anything you can’t come back from.” Izuku looked across the man, catching any details he could use to talk him down. He didn’t want to have to hurt someone if he didn’t have to. A wedding band, so he’s married. His eyes flicked across his clothing where various hair was stuck to it. “Do you have a family? A pet?” Izuku calmly asked the man his questions. Gotta keep in talking. Keep his attention on me.

The man grit his teeth as he looked at Izuku. “I have two daughters. My wife died a month ago. We have a calico that wanders in and out if you can consider that a pet.” The gun was still trained on Izuku, but he had his attention now.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Izuku frowned. “I’ve lost a good number of people, and I know how hard that is. It must be rough taking care of your daughters now on your own. How old are they?”

The man licked his lips, gun drooping slightly as he thought about his children. “It is. It's so hard. They're four and six. How do you explain to your daughters at that age why you can’t eat dinner every night or why they never get to see you because you’re always working?!” The man was getting agitated again and starting to twitch.

“It's hard to tell someone that young something like that. You can’t expect them to understand. Their happiness is your responsibility, and you can see that slipping away from you far too quickly. But think about them right now. Like I said, right now you're in trouble, but you haven’t passed the point of no return. If you want them to be happy, you can’t go through with this. What would they think of what you're doing right now? What would you tell them about this? Everyone needs help sometimes, that's nothing to be ashamed of. Just hand me the gun. We can still both walk away from this. Yes? You can go back home to your daughters.”

The man seemed to struggle for a moment before breaking. “Alright,” he choked out. “I don’t want this to be how my daughters remember me.” The man was so close to handing over the gun when the door slammed open and Death Arms came running in. The man snapped the gun back up a frantic look in his eyes before strafing his gun across both Death Arms and Jiro now standing in the doorway.

What happened next ran in slow motion for Izuku. Death Arms slammed his fist into the robber's stomach. The robber fired when his body clenched from the impact, and the gun was pointed straight at Jiro. Izuku was already moving and had just enough time to dive and grab Jiro before the bullet skimmed through his right tricep. No sooner had the robber hit the floor out cold than Izuku was up and yelling at Death Arms.

“You goddamn idiot! I was seconds away from diffusing the situation before you broke through the front door.” Izuku jerked his left arm at the glass double doors that were now shattered. “Besides that, rather than disarm the man, you chose to punch him. The body clenches when it's hit you asshole. You damn near got an innocent civilian killed because of your inability to deal with the situation properly.”

Death Arms simply stared Izuku down as he yelled at him before grunting back. “Look, I know you're probably upset about getting shot, boy, but don’t yell at the man that just saved your life. The villain needed to be taken down, and that's what I did. A couple doors aren’t anything compared to a bullet through your chest or head when the villain decided to stop toying with you.”

Izuku simply stared at the man in horror before turning on his heel shaking his head and moving to Jiro. “Are you alright?” he helped her to her feet before hissing when she poked his right arm.

“Am I alright? Are you alright? You’ve been shot!” Jiro was frantically gesturing to Izuku’s bleeding arm.

“I’m fine. It just grazed me,” Izuku muttered right after that it wasn’t the first time he’d been shot. He didn’t realize that Jiro could hear him at that volume and didn’t catch it on her face as he began tearing his shirt apart to triage the flesh wound. They would have to stay to speak with the police as soon as they arrived, and oh boy did Izuku want a word with them regarding their "Hero." Izuku glanced over and picked up his ten yen coin.

“Hey, look at that,” Izuku smirked up at his companion. “Looks like it landed on hero.” Little did he know that Jiro had already made her decision.

Chapter 6: Chapter #6 | From Outside the Storm

Chapter Text

It wasn’t long before the crowd started gathering around the Deli. Be it from the excitement of something happening in the sleepy suburb of Musutafu, or that the area was now being barricaded by police and first responders. The shattered glass of the doorway was spread across the ground inside the deli as if an explosion had forced the doors off their hinges inwards. Jiro sat anxiously in one of the chairs to the side while the paramedics argued with Izuku. Her parents had been allowed to come out of the store and wait for the police to take Kyoka’s statement with her.

“I’m telling you. I do not need to go to the hospital. The bullet skimmed the lateral head at most. Put a few stitches in my arm and I’ll heal fine as long as I keep it disinfected.” Izuku had been having this argument for a few minutes now and his patience had already been wearing thin before the paramedic's overenthusiastic treatment of his flesh wound. Izuku had managed to keep Death Arms in his line of sight since the robbery ended. First, he had been giving his report to the first on the scene. So at least he had done part of his job. But then, directly after he got done shoving the poor robber into the back of the police cruiser, he had immediately gone over to talk with the media who had managed to come crawling out of the woodwork at the mention of a ‘villain’ attack.

The paramedic finally relented, “Fine. You just want stitches and not any of the dozen healing quirks that could help you along? Fine. I’ll leave it at that and let the police have you.” The first responder, who had become just as aggravated with Izuku as Izuku had with him, signaled to the waiting officers before storming off with the signed release forms. Izuku took in the two men that were approaching Izuku’s little group in detail. If Izuku wanted to get his story across and help the man who’d had the chance to stand down stripped from him, then he’d have to play this carefully. One was a lean man that clearly had some form of cat quirk in him. He was lithe with yellow eyes and the, for the most part, body of a ginger tabby cat. Beside him was a tall man that was about as plain as they came. He, like his partner, wore a tan overcoat and matching hat that made the two look like they would have come from some noir film were it not, of course, for the furry ears poking through the hat of the cat.

“Hello there.” The plain man spoke first when the two stepped up in front of Izuku and company. “I am Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa. This is my partner Detective Tamakawa Sansa. I was told that you were the witness to the villain attack? Also, be aware that anything you say I can verify as true with my quirk.” Izuku quirked his eyebrow at the detectives.

“You have a lie detector quirk?” Izuku asked, curious. It would certainly be useful in his profession.

“Indeed I do. I always inform victims of attacks. It helps to make them believe we’ll take what they tell us seriously.” Tsukauchi nodded his head at Izuku’s question. “I’ll be needing to get statements from both you, Mr. Midoriya, as well as Miss Jiro.”

Izuku smiled, because for the first time during all of this, something was going very right. “That makes this easy then, Detective.” Izuku’s smile turned sharp with just a hint of his underlying rage seeping through into it. “Let me be the first to inform you at the scene of this villain attack that the man was not a villain at all. Quite to the contrary, I saw a man scared for his family, driven to commit a crime by desperation and not ill will. Despite, ” Izuku practically spit the word, “the complete opposite being told to the media right now.” Izuku jerked his thumb at Death Arms standing in front of a news camera and allowed the smile now to drop off his face and the disdain to come through. “In fact. The only damage that was incurred during this attack was inflicted by Death Arms slamming himself through the door.” Izuku gestured stiffly to the shattered remains of the front entrance to the deli. “Or by the man's handgun,” Izuku gestured to the bullet wound in his right arm, “which would have never gone off if the supposed Hero in this situation hadn't punched the scared, anxious man who was about to surrender his weapon to me.”

Both Detectives had stiffened during Izuku’s recounting of the events, and Detective Tamakawa looked to his partner for verification regarding Izuku’s statement. “Everything he’s said is true so far. What do you mean he was about to surrender his weapon to you, Mr. Midoriya?” Naomasa asked him this follow up. A knot was forming in his stomach, as was the feeling that this was about to turn into a massive headache.

Jiro spoke up at this before Izuku could respond. “Of course everything he said is true. He managed to almost talk down an armed gunman and would have without the interference from Death Arms over there. Even then, if Izuku hadn’t acted how he did, I-” Jiro cut off and shuddered slightly, wrapping her arms around herself. It was just catching up to her that she had almost died back there. She had begun to shake and her breathing was becoming hitched. Her parents gave her a worried look, but before either of them could do anything, a hand was placed on her shoulder and she could hear a soft voice calling her name. When she looked up, she found herself staring into the deep emerald eyes of the man that had literally taken a bullet for her.

“Hey there, Jiro. Focus on me now. What you are feeling is scary, but it is not dangerous. You’re alright, you’re here with your parents. There is nothing that is going to hurt you anymore. Focus on breathing. One, two, three. There you go. Deep breaths.” Izuku looked away from Jiro, away from where he was now kneeling in front of her, helping the poor girl through a panic attack, and into the two Detectives eyes.

“I do think that you can get her statement later, yes? You can allow her parents to take her inside their shop here. She only came in at the end, and I can explain what happened from my perspective. Which should be more than enough for the moment, yes?” Izuku’s voice was still soft and calm, but there was a bite to it now. A threat for the detectives that there would be hell to pay if they didn’t go along with his very reasonable request.

“Yes, that is fine.” Detective Tamakawa said as Tsukauchi nodded along with his partner. “You're free to go, Miss Jiro.” Jiro’s father helped his daughter back into the shop before anything else could happen. But her mother waited for a moment and approached Izuku instead before folding herself into a bow.

“Thank you so much. Thank you for saving our daughter. Please come back tomorrow or the next time you get the chance. I’m sure Kyoka will want to thank you herself, as well as my husband.” Izuku gave her a smile before telling her not to bow.

“I didn’t do anything special, Ma’am. I couldn’t have lived with myself if I let her get hurt, after all.” Mrs. Jiro gave him a concerned look before Izuku turned back to the detectives. When he did so, he stood at parade rest, the soft, caring expression he had used with Jiro melting away like the spring snow. “Yes, sir, as I said, the man was about to hand over his weapon when Death Arms ruined everything. I had been negotiating with him for several minutes to deescalate. He was just about to surrender and hand over his weapon when Death Arms came crashing through the door, spooking the man into raising his weapon again. Unfortunately, he also decided the correct course of action would be to punch the man pointing a deadly weapon at an innocent civilian. Which of course-” Izuku was cut off when Naomasa sighed out, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Caused the weapon to go off when the man clenched from the impact, resulting in you saving Miss Jiro from the bullet and Death Arms nearly killing an innocent civilian.” He had been right. It was about to turn into a massive headache. “I’m going to need you to come back to the station with me please, Mr. Midoriya. If he was willing to surrender to you, then he’s more likely to open up to you than me or my partner. You already have the rapport established with him.”

“I’ll be honest with you, Detective, I thought I was going to have to fight you on this matter. I still think that the man is a criminal, don't get me wrong, he broke the law. But he certainly is not a "villain." But I wasn’t quite certain that you were going to see things the same way considering. Well.” Izuku didn’t need to gesture this time for the two Detectives to understand what Izuku was getting at.

“Yes, well, I'm afraid had I not heard your side of the story, I may very well have let this slide, as what it appears to be on the surface. However, neither of us are in the business of overcharging criminals, either. Come on, we’ll head over to the station now and you can give us a full briefing on the negotiation on the way there. Then we’ll go from there.” Naomasa stopped and realized what he had just said. He was talking to a civilian. Why was he acting like Midoriya was one of his men?

Before he could say anything, Izuku nodded with a yes sir, picked up his things and began to make his way to the two detectives' vehicle. Naomasa was only able to stare at his back, confused for a moment, before following him to the vehicle.

…

It wasn’t even half an hour later that Izuku was sitting in the office of Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa, thinking that no matter what world it was, people were f*cked up. The detective had left Izuku in his office to go convince the prosecutor to hold off. That the case wasn’t quite as cut and dry as it seemed. Meanwhile, Izuku was left to wait in the detective's office. As Izuku was waiting for the detective, two things happened.

The first was that his mother had caught news of the villain attack, as well as his involvement in it. The panicking woman had taken a few minutes to calm down, to assure that he was fine and would be returning home as soon as he was no longer needed at the police station.

The second was that the case board set up in the corner caught his attention. A series of photos were pinned across it. Different scenes, different victims, different methods of execution. The only thing that was readily apparent that linked the three cases was that all three victims were professional heroes. But there was something there, it was perplexing because Izuku was sure of it.

When Naomasa returned to his office only a few minutes later, he found Izuku standing in front of his case board with a face of dread. “Those three cases have all occurred within the last month. We’re working on tracking down leads, but for the most part, they’ve gone cold. There just isn’t anything that seems to point to the killer except for all three victims being heroes, and in that case, there could be any number of people that could want to target them.” Izuku turned slowly, looking Naomasa directly in the eyes when doing so.

“Three cases? There's your first problem. This was all done by the same person or group. This is one singular case with multiple victims.” Naomasa was about to dismiss Izuku’s words when his quirk told him that Izuku was telling the truth. He at the very least believed what he was saying, and going with his gut, Naomasa asked him why he thought so.

Izuku pointed to the board. “Everything lines up. First of all, all three were killed in sequential weeks from each other. Each exactly a week apart. While that could be a coincidence, the other little details say otherwise. Each one was taken down with a different weapon in an isolated location, and each has small cuts and scrapes on them which would indicate each was in a struggle of some kind before their death. That, in and of itself, isn’t surprising, especially in the case of a hero fatality. Where it starts to get suspicious, however, is here.” Izuku pointed to each of the coroner reports and their lab results.

“You have three separate coroners from different parts of the city sending you lab results where each victim has incredibly high counts of Ca++ ions in their sarcoplasm.” Izuku looked back to where Naomasa stood with a puzzled expression on his face. “This means that before their deaths, each of the victims' bodies would have completely tensed up to the point of their muscles practically locking them in place. They would be effectively paralyzed until their body stopped signaling and their sarcolemma and T-tubules repolarized.” Izuku let those words sink in and could see the realization dawning on Naomasa’s face as it gained the same serious look Izuku's had.

“What you’re telling me is that all three victims, while being killed by different methods, were effectively all paralyzed before their deaths?” Naomasa calmly asked his question of Izuku, even if his mind was racing with the implications.

“That is indeed what I am saying, and it doesn’t stop there. Each of these heroes had come up with controversy of some kind in the weeks leading up to their deaths.” Izuku began to point to each in turn. “Bright Shadow recently had a report come out regarding the number of civilians blinded by their quirk when they used it on villains. Nightowl was recently criticized for his seeming inability to bring in criminals without maiming them with his talons, and finally, Thornhead here was recently mobbed by a group of civilians and was startled. This wouldn’t have been a major incident worth mentioning if, in his surprise, he hadn’t shot his spines into half a dozen civilians, injuring them. What you have is someone or someones targeting heroes because they aren't up to standard. In the case of an organization, maybe they’ve come up with some kind of chemical co*cktail to do this, or in the case of an individual, maybe a quirk that can somehow broadcast the signal to their victims' bodies. Regardless of how and why, whoever is doing this is incredibly dangerous and knows what they're doing.”

Naomasa plopped down into his desk seat with a bone-weary sigh. “sh*t. That isn’t good. Alright, I’ll have to verify what you just told me regarding the paralysis, but if that checks out, it's all sound logic, and a damn good theory, if not an ugly one.” Naomasa looked up at Izuku from where he had his face in his hands. “I don’t suppose you would be interested in an analyst position with us? I’ve been staring at that board for a week, and you just managed to link those three cases together in under forty-five minutes.”

Izuku shook his head at Naomasa. “Sorry, sir, I’m almost out of high school, and while it is true that I would have more time during my degree programs, I am also working on several technologies to aid me in getting into a Hero program. If you could use my help, I have no problem working as a civilian consultant occasionally. But I simply don’t have the time to commit to a full-time position as an analyst.”

“Just my luck, I find a damn good analyst and he’s already set on his path. Oh well, just the offer of occasional help if we need it is better than I was expecting to get. I’ll deal with this issue later. Come on, we have an interview to do.”

…

"Detective Tsukauchi entering interview with civilian witness Midoriya Izuku." The detective recited the pertinent data, and after reading the man his rights, sat down across from him.

“For the record, please correct me if I am wrong,” Naomasa began, “you are one Fujii Nao, age thirty-four and born in the f*ckushima ward. You moved here some seven months ago for work with your wife, who passed away a month ago. Was any of that incorrect?”

“What does it matter?” The man sounded sad, bitter, and defeated. “You're just going to throw me away in jail as another villain anyways. Take my daughters away to go into some system.”

Izuku spoke up now, his voice soft and comforting. Inviting the man to look at him and trust what he was saying to him. “Mr. Fujii, like I told you back at the deli, you are in trouble, but not to the degree that you seem to think you are. We are simply trying to ascertain the exact events of what went down for the police record. Detective Tsukauchi here is very good at telling if you are lying and will be able to tell that you are giving an accurate account of what happened.”

The man's head jerked up at Izuku’s voice. His mouth hung open for a second before stuttering out a surprised croak that it was him. “Why would you go this far to help me? I tried to rob that store. I shot you!”

“Did you mean to shoot me? Did you mean for anyone to get injured at any point during your actions?” Izuku pressed the man now, and Naomasa allowed him to take the lead. If the man was willing to cooperate with Izuku, then he would gladly be sidelined and verify the information.

“Of course not, God no.” The man choked out. “I never intended to even fire the weapon. I was going to give it over to you before that man punched me.” The man returned his head to his hands before croaking out. “I just wanted to get enough money to feed my kids.” Naomasa nodded his head and gave the camera the signal that everything that had been said was the truth, then tapped Izuku in a signal to continue. And continue Izuku did.

…

By the end of an exhausting half an hour interview, Izuku had grilled the man from every angle Tsukauchi could think of and then some. Where the hell he had learned how to do that was beyond him, but it was more than evident to himself and everyone involved by this point that the man was just as much a victim as everyone else. There was a quick rap at the door before a tall woman in her mid-thirties came through. She was all business from head to toe, and both her wardrobe and demeanor showed it.

“Hello, Mr. Fujii. My name is Miya Kimi, and I am one of the assistant prosecutors for this area's local prosecutor's office. Contrary to popular belief, not every villain caught by our illustrious heroes is the same. That's where our wonderful police department comes in to weed out the cases actually worth the time and effort to prosecute.” Izuku quirked his eyebrow and looked over to the detective. Naomasa only gave a small smirk.

“Right now as it stands, you would be charged with attempted robbery with a deadly weapon. This will confer onto you a minimum sentence of sixteen months, plus any time you would await trial.” Fujii’s face drained of blood as his life flashed before his eyes. Miya sighed, toning down the aggressive tone. “That being said, I’m going to offer you an alternative option. In all honesty, this is not a case I, or I'm willing to bet anyone in this room, has any interest in prosecuting. This is your first offense, and as such, the court is willing to offer you a sixteen-month probation, instead. You will be assigned a position with one of several companies we have an agreement with. Should you be fired, you don’t check in with your probation officer accordingly, or perform some other action to violate the terms of the agreement I am going to outline for you, then you will be immediately remanded into police custody to await trial for these charges, as well as any additional ones that may be brought against you.”

As the prosecutor continued her explanation, Izuku and the detective slipped from the interrogation room and back into Naomasa’s office. Both sighed, one happy with the outcome of the day's work, the other knowing that this was just the start to his night. Izuku spoke up then.

“I do believe that completes my role in this, yes? If it is alright with you, I have a very worried mother back at home and would like to get back to her. If for some reason you need to get into contact with me or are wanting to request assistance, you can reach me here.” Izuku handed Naomasa a piece of paper that had come from the desk with his contact information on it.

“Yes, it does. Thank you for your assistance in this matter, as well as the insights on the… the case that I’m working.” He gestured to the board with all of the photos. “Your help in these matters has been invaluable.

…

Izuku laid in bed that night with images flashing across the back of his eyes. Variations of what could have happened that day. If he hadn’t been able to talk the man down, if he had had to hurt him or worse to stop someone else from getting injured.

The image of Jiro bleeding out on the concrete flashed unbidden into his mind. He hissed and sat up, rubbing his eyes. There hadn't even been anything they could do about Death Arms outside of submitting a complaint to the Hero Commission. For all the good that would do. He was tired, but he didn’t know enough to satiate the feeling lurking in the back of his gut.

He needed an information network in place. He needed to make sure he could at least reasonably see these things coming in the future, and for that, he needed to get back to work. So he did what he did best. He slid out of bed, situated himself in front of his computer with some coffee, and got to work.

Chapter 7: Chapter #7 | Scent of Iron

Chapter Text

Hatsume woke up like any other day in her schedule. She rolled out of bed with her body protesting, practically begging her to give it more of the sleep that she deprives it of constantly. She attempted to shower off some of the grime that had embedded itself into her skin before she passed out, brushed her teeth, and generally got ready for the day. She had decided that this morning she was going to check on one of the simulations that she had left running on her computer for the grapple gauntlet before heading to the private school that her family had enrolled her in.

Not that she needed the school, despite what her parents thought. She was so far ahead in her classes that it was a joke. She was fairly certain that if it hadn’t been for the “social interaction” that they had apparently deemed necessary for her, then she would have been able to convince them to let her do that nifty schooling method Midoriya was currently doing. Her rival was getting ahead of her because of that. She stopped mid-step on the way to the garage that held her workshop. She supposed she shouldn’t call him that, should she? He was someone she could consider her partner now, and it had been so long since she had been able to say that. He was brilliant and, she would admit, just as crazy as her, if some of his designs were of any indication. She knew he hadn’t shown her his best stuff yet, either.

When she did finally step in the garage, she was surprised to find the man she had just been thinking of already sitting at one of the desks with a pair of magnifying glasses on, soldering what appeared to be the smallest chipset that she had ever seen in her life. She checked her watch just to make sure she hadn’t gotten up later than she had intended.

I know that Midoriya told me he doesn’t have to sleep much, wouldn’t that be nice, but what is he doing here at just past six in the morning? “Midoriya,” Hatsume tried to catch his attention, but he didn’t respond. She tried rapping on the door rather loudly with a wrench from where she stood, but still no luck. He was just staring at the chipset without moving. Finally, she simply walked up and placed her hand on his shoulder. The reaction she got put her heart in her throat. Izuku jumped. Not the kind of startled, haha you scared me jump, but the kind you got from startling someone that was running on adrenaline.

Midoriya’s hand shot across the desk to the handgun that he had finished several days prior. It was a sleek little thing that he had chambered in .45 ACP. It was mostly black metal except for the polymer grip. He had installed a flashlight just under the barrel, almost like a second barrel that had been filled. He also made the parts to rechamber it down to 9mm, as well as attach a silencer. Though none of it was technically legal at the moment.

He had opted to leave it in the workshop, as he hadn’t had the time to go get the licensing completed to carry it. She would have shuddered at the thought of all that paperwork, were said handgun not now pressed against the carotid artery in her neck. Izuku’s hand was clamped around the wrist of the hand that had been on his shoulder, and his wild, bloodshot eyes were darting around, searching her face. Finally, he croaked out a singular, “Hatsume?” before stumbling back and slapping the sidearm back down onto the table. “I’m so sorry, you startled me and I didn’t hear you come in.”

Mei frowned at him, not the slightest bit disturbed by what had just happened. If she hadn’t died yet from her own babies exploding, many of which Midoriya had recently saved her from, then she wasn’t worried about him grabbing a sidearm when he was so clearly scared of something. “What’s going on, Midoriya? What’s got you so spooked?”

Izuku shook his head. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I just came in early to finish these chipsets.” Hatsume frowned at him, now really looking at him. His eyes were ringed in black like a raccoon, his skin was a sallow, sickly shade that didn’t fit him, and while his breathing was starting to calm, it was still ragged, as if he had just run several miles.

“Midoriya. When was the last time you slept? Ate something? You've been pushing recently for the completion of something or another. But you’ve not said anything to me as to its exact nature. Do these chips have something to do with it?” Hatsume gestured to the slew of chips in various states of completion.

Midoriya rubbed his brows and then his eyes, sighing. “Uh, just after I got back from the police station. After the Deli incident, my mother and I had dinner.” Izuku chuckled, “She was really worried since the news outlets said ‘villain attack’ for the first day or so. And to answer your other question, yes, those do have a lot to do with it. Those will, when complete, allow me to finish the final stage of this little endeavor.” Izuku looked up to find Hatsume staring at him, both impressed and utterly horrified.

“Midoriya! That was a week and a half ago!” Hatsume shook her head and stepped over to her desk. She pulled a protein bar from the drawer before throwing it straight at his head. They were the kind designed for people with heavy calorie quirks. As such, it was just what the doctor ordered. It pegged him in between the eyes before he could stop and catch it. “That right there should show you how out of it you are. You would normally never get hit like that. Now you are going to eat that bar and then lay down for some sleep.” Hatsume cut him off before he could argue with her. Pointing her finger at him, “You are about to drop from both exhaustion and food deprivation. I’ll finish these while you get some rest.”

“Don’t you have class, Hatsume?” Izuku was already unwrapping the bar and biting into it. While he didn’t want to admit it, she was right. He was worn down. Hell, he’d let his flashback get the better of him to the point that he'd drawn a weapon on her for gods sakes. Besides that, he had seen Hatsume pissed only once. He had no interest in that happening again.

“Nothing that I can’t afford to miss. Besides that, whatever this project of yours is, it seems important to you.”

“Even if I told you that I was going to be breaking multiple laws when I finish said project?” Hatsume turned and looked Izuku in the eyes critically before shaking her head.

“If it's you, I’m sure you have a good reason for doing so. I trust you, Midoriya. Besides, you’re my partner, right? In for a penny, in for a pound after all. And Midoriya? Just call me Mei.” Midoriya was surprised. He knew she trusted him when she had begun sharing her workspace with him, but this was different. Izuku smiled at her, small tears forming in the corners of his eyes before he bit them back.

“Thanks. That means a lot.” Izuku sat down on the sad old futon, and before he could say another word, as soon as his rear touched futon, he was out like a light. Hatsume put her back against the wall now, looking at his sleeping form. What has him so spooked? He can probably lift a car at this point without much trouble. Hell, for that matter, what is he? Even I can’t go a week and a half without dropping. Hatsume was still debating this when her mother stuck her head in through the door to tell her to get moving. She caught sight of Izuku on the ground before pulling Mei outside.

“And who, might I ask, is that?” Her mother practically purred the words at her and just generally had that look about her. The one that screamed that she wanted to know absolutely everything. For as great as her mother was, when it came to her children's romance, she could be utterly overbearing.

“That, mother, is my business partner, Midoriya Izuku. I found him working and practically about to collapse from overwork. Which I know is rich coming from me.” Mei frowned and looked back at the door, concern etching itself into her face. “Could you do me a favor and tell the school I won't be coming in today? Something’s not right and I want to be here to deal with it." Her mother had stopped her girlish jittering now. She studied Mei’s face closely. She had never seen her girl this concerned for another person outside of their family. Her girl had also never considered taking a business partner before. She knew what she was worth and knew others couldn’t match up.

“How did you meet him?” She was calm now when she asked the question. This one was entirely serious. Mei smirked and looked back at her mother, just knowing that she would love this.

“He was the one cleaning up the beach like I told you guys about. I tried to brain him with my wrench and we got to talking.” Her mother sighed. She had known that it had to be weird if it was Mei. Then she shook her head.

“I’ll go call you in. Do what you need to do. And Mei?” It was her turn to smirk at her daughter, “You tried to brain him with a heavy metal object and he’s still working with you? Don’t let him get away.” Mei was already heading back into the garage, so her mother didn’t get to see the scarlet that was blooming across her daughter's face.

…

Mei initially spent time just studying the chipsets that had been completed. Once again, Izuku had created something ingenious and blew her away. The amount he was able to cram onto this board made it obvious that most of the pieces were custom made. No one made pieces this small because no one knew how to make pieces this small and have them still be functional.

After she was confident that she had spent enough time with Midoriya’s design to start putting them together, she began piecing parts together. It became quickly apparent that Midoriya’s eyesight had to be enhanced like her own because she was barely managing with both her quirk and the magnifying glasses that had previously been on Midoriya’s face. Just how many secrets is he hiding? Hatsume took the glasses off and rubbed her eyes after completing the second to last.

She swiveled in her chair to look at Izuku asleep. He had managed to go from his calm, sleeping position to one where he was curled into a small ball, the pain on his face starkly contrasting the peaceful one he’d had barely an hour before. It was when he started to whimper like a kicked puppy that Mei couldn’t sit there and do nothing anymore. But, unfortunately, she knew he needed his sleep. No matter how much she wanted to release him from the obvious hell he was in, she couldn't wake him. She sighed, sitting down beside him, and began rubbing small circles in his back.

…

After Izuku woke up, he thanked Mei and told her that he needed to retrieve something from his home. He excused himself, assuring her that he would be back once he'd retrieved what he needed from his workbench. Hatsume agreed to finish off the last two chipsets while he was gone.

When Izuku got back, he came in with two things that Hatsume had not expected to see him with. One was a black, unlabeled case used to transport delicate electronics that he held in his hands. The other, she recognized as an art tube, was slung over his shoulder. In their case, though, they tended more to be used to store and transport important blueprints than art. Izuku spoke up after he set the case down on one of the worktables and started to clear space on the one with their blueprints.

“I know you said you trust me, Mei, and I am incredibly thankful for that. But let me make something clear. What I said earlier about breaking the law? I wasn’t joking with you. What I am preparing to do will violate about half a dozen surveillance laws on their own, much less the others. This is your last chance out.” Hatsume shook her head before crossing the room and clapping her hand down on Izuku’s shoulder.

“I wasn’t kidding either, Midoriya. If it’s you, then I’m quite sure you have a reason for doing it. You're my partner. That means we’re in this together to the end of whatever crazy hole we’re about to jump down.” Midoriya chuckled at that before turning and clicking the black case on the table open.

“Alright then. Let's catch you up to speed, hmm?” Izuku opened the box and took a tablet out of the case, powering it up and tapping in a series of passcodes, a fingerprint scan, and even a retinal scan while he explained. “You asked what I've been up to this last week? I’ve been building an information network deep enough that I won’t be surprised again. I suppose that's we now, though. We won’t be surprised again.” Izuku smiled at that. A happy, full-face smile that warmed the air itself and made everyone else feel fuzzy just for having seen it. She had only seen it a few times, but it always felt like her heart stopped when she did. Before she could wonder why that was, Izuku turned the tablet around, handing it to her and continuing his explanation.

“Every camera and database. Basically, anything that I could get into, I’ve been tapping and compiling into one large information network. Almost everything I could get into from here to Tokyo is now accessible from that tablet, as well as my workstation at home.” To say that Hatsume was shocked was an understatement. What Izuku had just handed her was second only to what was likely the government's information network. Even if it were a limited area, the implications of him having been able to set this all up in the last week were terrifying.

“Meanwhile, these little babies, which you just finished the last piece of, are the pièces de résistance of the project, for now.” What Izuku held up in front of her was barely any larger than her pinky nail and looked at her with the sleek, grey gleam of metal and lens. “These little things are barely 8mm wide and boast an eight-megapixel camera. Fully automated and manually directed when the need arises, these will fill the gaps in the surveillance net. But first, I’ll be giving them an important little task. Do you remember what I said about my old school?”

It took Mei a moment to find her voice, so she merely nodded. “It was basically a hellhole, yeah? Bunch of quirkist assholes making the weaks’ lives miserable because they can, right?” Izuku shook his head.

“For the most part, yeah. Though I left out some of the darker details. They once found a student that was afraid of the dark. They proceeded to lock him in the janitor's closet with no light until he had screamed his throat raw and torn up his hands trying to claw his way out of the closet.” Izuku was seething with fury and Mei could see the hatred in his eyes. “The best part about it? When the teachers found out what happened? They laughed.” Izuku practically spat the word. “They laughed and left the kid there. He didn’t get out until the janitor found him at the end of the day.” Izuku breathed deep, doing his best to calm himself, and Mei placed the tablet onto the table before sitting down.

That was beyond anything she could have imagined. She had imagined that the students had been assholes, sure, but she had never imagined they were that bad. Or would have ever imagined in a million years that the teachers were willing participants in it. Izuku snorted.

“That's just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Aldera. Their star pupil is a kid who is proud to think that he put me in a coma for a year. Hero material, my ass.” Izuku huffed before continuing. His tone when he did made Hatsume’s skin crawl. There was something dangerous there, like a large animal hunting its prey. “The principal oh so graciously allowed me to leave the school without expelling me, after I broke said student's nose, on the condition that I don’t go to the police.” Izuku smiled now, a sharp smile full of malice. “Oh, I won’t go to the police. But that doesn’t mean that a certain detective won’t find a nice little anonymous package of videos detailing precisely what goes on in that school.”

Hatsume moved slowly now to place her hand on Midoriya’s arm. “So that's what you’ve been working on this past week? A surveillance network and spy cameras to dissolve your old school? Not to belittle, but that hardly seems like it had to be so pressing as to run yourself into the ground.” Izuku let the hatred slip away as if it were a cloak he was shedding. That, in and of itself, would have put her on edge were it anyone else.

“No, no. I got sidetracked. I'm sorry. That is more of a side project and a happy benefit from the network. The reason I wanted it in place, and the reason I wanted us to not be surprised, is for two reasons. First, I would like to be able to help people like Mr. Fujii last week before it gets to that point. I wanted to have the ability to find them first and decide if I need to get involved. Secondly, it’s because of this.” Izuku shrugged the tube off his shoulder now, extending it to Hatsume, gesturing for her to take it. “You put your trust in me, and that's a two-way street. It's time to put my trust in you, as well. You're right. You're my partner, so here’s what I would like our first major project to be.” Izuku let Hatsume take the tube from him and watched as she gingerly removed the cap before pulling out a series of blueprints.

It only took her a few moments to realize what she was looking at before her head snapped to Izuku. “Midoriya, if this works,” she looked back to the blueprints again before shaking her head and placing her hands down on the desk around them. “Who am I kidding? It's your design. We’ll probably have to do some minor tweaks, but it's going to work. Midoriya, this is a game-changer. I’m not talking sliced bread here, either. This is a complete paradigm shift to the very fundamental layers of our society. This will completely change how everything is done. Power grids, national security, hell, even household appliances.” Hatsume looked from blueprint to blueprint. “We’re going to need more than just what we have here if we are going to pull this off.” Hatsume looked up at Izuku with a gleam in her eyes that was that mad glint of invention that Midoriya had become so familiar with. “I hope you're ready to clear that beach in its entirety, because that's the amount of usable material we're talking about here.”

Midoriya smirked and rolled his shoulders, looking down at the plans on the table for a variety of sizes of fusion reactors “If you’re ready to get to work, then I am too. Let's get to it. And Mei? Just call me Izuku.”

Chapter 8: Chapter #8 | Perfect Simulation

Chapter Text

When Izuku opened his eyes that morning, he realized that they might have been overdoing it. In the last couple of days since he had given the plans to Hatsume, they had made a shocking amount of progress. Her, with tweaking his blueprints, god he was glad he had found someone with a mechanical background like Mei, and the paperwork involved with building a prototype reactor in a garage. The city really wasn’t particularly happy about that idea, but Hatsume’s lawyer of a mother had ripped through them like a shark when they tried to block her daughter.

Izuku, on the other hand, had been cleaning and pulling every possible piece of usable scrap from the beach and breaking it down into its base parts. They were going to need every piece of usable material and then some. After multiple days of work on that beach all day, however, Izuku’s muscles were not happy with him. Sure, he was quite happy with them. He was just about back to the point he had been at during his spec ops days, but his muscles were certainly telling him to take a day.

After both his morning routine and a wonderful breakfast with his mother, he gave her confirmation that, yes, he would indeed be careful today. He made his way to the garage workshop that he and Hatsume were working out of to find her mother swatting at her with one hand while berating her.

“I do not care how important this project of yours is. You still have to attend your classes if you want to graduate. I’ve given you the last couple of days because I can see that it's something big you two have got going, but enough is enough here. You need to know when to take a break from your work.” Izuku sweatdropped at the scene, and Mei was barely even defending herself against her mother's onslaught. Izuku let out a slight cough to catch the attention of the two ladies, and when they caught sight of him, they had two very different reactions.

Mei, relieved to see him, bolted behind him, immediately using him as a human shield against her mother. Mrs. Hatsume gave him an absolutely uncanny smile that was far too much tooth for his liking. Izuku shuddered, thinking that if this was how she acted in a courtroom, then he could see why she was considered one of the best defense lawyers in the country.

“Sorry, Mei, I’m with your mother on this one. I was stopping by to tell you that I need to let my muscles rest for the day. Besides that, we both know the dangers of staring at anything too long. Blueprints, code, simulations, it doesn’t matter, and we can’t risk even a small mistake with one of these reactors. One of these goes critical? We’re not talking about the garage getting its windows blown out. We're talking Musutafu being wiped off the map.” Izuku eased her away from her hiding position behind him so that she was looking him in the eyes while he was talking. She huffed but finally agreed, taking her leave of both of them to get ready.

“You know you're the only one her age I’ve seen able to talk to her like that? Outside of our family, no one, and I mean no one, is able to get her to do things like that. Even we struggle sometimes to get her to do things. But you, your words carry more weight than all of ours. Look out for her please.” Izuku hadn’t expected Mrs. Hatsume to say as much, but he didn’t feel as caught off guard as he would have expected.

“On that front, you don’t have to worry. She’s a brilliant girl, and I can assure you her words carry as much weight with me as mine do with her.” Izuku stepped to the side of the desk, picking up a sleek black unmarked case. Then back to the doorway. "I have somewhere I need to be, ma’am, so if you’ll excuse me.” Izuku turned to leave and muttered the last part to himself. “I’m certainly not going to lose another.”

…

It had been two weeks since he had been to the music store to get his strings, and after Izuku had made his way there from the train station, he was glad to see the deli had quickly replaced it's doors and gotten back to serving its customers. It was pretty good food, after all. It would be a real shame if they’d had to stay closed.

Izuku entered the store much the same way he had before, this time carrying a case rather than a guitar. Izuku approached the shop counter expecting to see one of the Jiro family manning it and, instead, finding a store worker a little older than him. The man was about five foot eight and somewhere in the ballpark of nineteen or twenty by Izuku’s estimates. His nametag labeled him as Tajima. He had brown hair down to his neckline and was wearing a smile that felt more forced than natural when he spoke.

“Hello, welcome to Don’t Fret. Is there something I can help you with today, sir?” Izuku shook his head, thanking him but asking if any of the Jiros were around today, as he had several matters he needed to discuss with the family. The atmosphere changed when he mentioned the family. The clerk, seemingly not wanting him to meet the family. “I’m not sure. They aren’t always around so you’ll have to try again at a la-”

Izuku glanced past him when movement came from a door leading into the back. As he did so, he locked eyes with Kyoka as the door closed. There was a brief moment of silence as they stared at each other and the clerk was awkwardly caught in his sentence. That moment was broken when Jiro launched herself across the counter yelling, “Midoriya!”

Izuku barely had time to catch her and set her down before she was ushering him into the back, berating him for not coming by sooner and how her parents had started to lose hope that he would be back after what had happened. So preoccupied was she with her savior that she didn’t notice the clerk glaring at the two of them.

…
The Jiros were ecstatic to see that he had returned and, after they had settled down in the break room with tea, wasted no time in bombarding him with questions. He answered what he could and generally made small talk with them. Eventually, the parents had to get back to what they were doing before he came. Before they could, he asked them to stay for one thing. Izuku placed a strip down on the table that Hatsume and he had been working on.

“I was asked to relay this footage to you from interested parties. As it turns out, someone has been lurking around your store after hours and they wanted you to be aware.” Izuku hit a button on his phone and the strip lit up, projecting a hologram of a video into the air just above it. Of course, no one had asked Izuku to relay the message. Instead, it was simply something he had flagged to come up with an alert in his surveillance program. It wasn’t perfect, but it caught quite a bit. The underground heroes swept most of what he had caught up, but there was still plenty of activity that they didn’t. I’ll have to talk to Mei about working with me on creating a logistics VI for us after the reactors are finished.

The Jiros were obviously put into a state of shock. Not just that some creepy person was lurking around their shop, which was upsetting for a plethora of reasons, but that the video was being projected in crisp high quality in the air in front of them. The parents, after breaking out of their stupor, thanked Izuku and, taking a copy of the video, left the room. Jiro looked from Izuku to the strip still sitting on the table, twirling one of her jacks with her finger.

“Sooo. Is this little strip what had you busy these two weeks? “ Izuku chuckled and shook his head. Picking up the strip and turning it over to fiddle with some of the circuitry with a small tool he’d taken out of the case.

“Not at all. This has been more of a little side project I’ve been working on in spare moments. Mostly I’ve been working on two much larger projects with my business partner. We’re almost to the prototyping stage, so we’re taking a break from that today.” Izuku placed the strip back down on the table and his tool back in the case. She couldn’t see what was in the case, but she could tell from the sound of metal brushing on metal when he put the tool back that there was something larger in the case than just the strip and some tools.

For a time, they spoke of nothing. Inane things that would numb the mind as much as they made you smile. Jokes and stories that made them both relax, for a while forgetting their worries. After a while, Jiro circled back around to what they had been speaking of before the incident several weeks ago. Seemingly out of nowhere, she spouted out with, “I’ve decided I’m going to be a hero.”

Izuku smiled now, his voice soft, remembering the last time they’d had this discussion. “I see you made your decision then. What made up your mind in the end?”

Jiro looked down and fiddled with her jacks. “It was actually the incident last week. For a while, I was stuck thinking about what happened. How close I came to not being able to make that decision and how badly I froze up. I wanted to be angry at that man for nearly killing me, for injuring you. Then after that, I wanted to be angry with Death Arms. If he hadn’t run in like that, you would have diffused the situation and nothing would have gone wrong.” Kyoka’s face was pensive and she was hesitating, speaking softly. She slowly shook her head, “I am going to become a hero so that those kinds of situations can be resolved the right way. Not like how Death Arms handled it.”

Izuku sighed as he listened to Jiro’s reason to be a Hero. He wouldn’t discourage her, of course, but he didn’t know if she had thought it all the way through, either. Did she realize that if that situation had gone differently, he would have resorted to force? Did she realize that he would have killed the man to keep everyone else safe if the situation had called for it? Was she prepared to take that step if she had to?

He buried those thoughts and smiled, congratulating her on figuring out what she wanted to do and offering her to strength train with him down at the beach. She could meet his partner, as well. The image of a small, remote village smoldering flashed across his mind before he shook his head. She has plenty of time before she should have to think about these things.

…

As Izuku walked down the road, he sent a message to Mei, telling her that he was on his way to his second task. When he felt his phone buzz in his hand, he expected it to be Hatsume continuing to gripe at him regarding her classes being useless. Instead, he found it was Jiro verifying the time to meet him at the beach and what to expect. He smiled at her message. She seemed like she was taking this seriously. They had another three years before their entrance exams.

His fifteenth birthday had just rolled around, and his mother had made it readily apparent with her tears what she thought of that. The fact that her son, who should have been a freshman in high school, was in the process of finalizing his senior year did not pass by her. Nor, for that matter, had it passed by Mei, who had been incessantly hounding her mother to let her do the same. Perhaps if she was willing to socialize with Jiro, then they’d be able to convince Mrs. Hatsume to let that happen.

Izuku looked up from his phone as he rounded the final corner to his destination. The Line of Duty. Pro Hero Snipe's personal range and shop. The shop mostly catered to professionals, so there was a clientele consisting of police, military, and a handful of pro heroes from Japan and overseas. That isn’t to say that civilians couldn’t go there, but quirks had made most people forget about firearms.

Izuku stepped into the store and decided there was no way he was in the wrong place, despite the name sounding vaguely like the name of a bar for cops. The shop floor was filled with cases of accessories for both people and their weapons. Gun cases, safes, cleaning gear, and tactical clothing were towards the entrance, while in the back of the shop were glass counters filled with an assortment of sidearms and knives.

No rifles for sale, but that's not terribly shocking. Even if the rules for sidearms relaxed and you can get the license for rifles, that doesn’t mean they're typically sold to civilians. Izuku walked up to the counter and caught the attention of the clerk. When she came over, he gave her a smile. “Hello, ma’am. I made an appointment to speak with Snipe today following his arrival. You’ll find me under Midoriya Izuku.” The clerk at the counter frowned.

“Aren’t you a tad bit young to have an appointment with-” The woman cut herself off. While she was indeed surprised, she was anything if not professional, and his name was indeed in the appointment log. “I apologize, sir, I didn’t realize that you were so young. If you come with me I’ll take you right back.” Izuku nodded his head and followed the young woman past the range. At this time of the day and week, it didn’t surprise Izuku for there to be more booths than shooters currently. When the clerk knocked on the office door, she informed the Hero that his appointment had arrived, then ushered Izuku through the door before returning to her place.

The Hero in question was sitting behind his desk, still in his costume, the old school tan gas mask covering his facial features and keeping Izuku from reading him. That doesn’t mean that he couldn’t see Snipes shock in the way his body tensed when he walked in. Izuku gave him a smile and began to cross the room to take a seat. While he did so, Snipe spoke in the well known southern drawl that announced him as having spent time in the Reunited States.

“I’ve gotta say, when the detective went an' referred someone to me as a favor, I certainly hadn't expected someone as young as you are.” He shifted in his seat and Izuku placed his case down next to him in the chair. Izuku gave Snipe a small, professional smile.

“Yes, well, the good detective owed me a favor so I asked him to refer me. Or are you telling me that you would have allowed a fifteen-year-old to make an appointment with you at a gun range?” Snipe shook his head.

“Aye. I can see ya point. And for that reason, let's get to your point, what are you here for?” Izuku straightened himself and held up two fingers.

“I’ve come with two requests. The first would be to allow me to take the licensing examination for handgun carry.” There was a tense silence following this statement. Not that Izuku could see it, but several emotions had gone across Snipe's face at that and his eyebrows had settled into a scrunch that was certain to give him a headache if he held it.

“I can’t say we have a tendency to issue carry licenses to minors.”

“You also can’t tell me that you haven’t issued them before.” Izuku and Snipe stared each other down for a few moments before Izuku finally sighed. “No, I didn’t figure you would, but it was worth the chance. The second is to get this serialized.” Izuku picked up and placed his case onto the desk now, sliding it across to him. Snipe was confused. Izuku was sure of that much. There was a slight head tilt when he pushed the case across the desk and hesitation when Snipe reached for it.

Snipe opened the case and pulled out the handgun that Izuku had pressed against Mei’s throat only a few days prior. He drew the slide on it back, checking for a chambered round, before snapping it forward and pointing it at the wall of his office after he had cleared the barrel. He looked back at Izuku and placed the gun onto the desk.

“Where did ya get this from?” Snipe asked him, clearly wary of where Izuku may have gotten an unserialized sidearm.

“I made it myself recently in preparation for hopefully getting my license to carry it.” Snipe was quiet for a moment before he stood, taking two boxes and several magazines from a drawer in his desk. He pushed Izuku’s sidearm back to him before gesturing him to follow. As they walked, Snipe spoke.

“In light of you being a gunsmith, I’m gonna give you a chance. That box has fifty, hundred and thirty-grain rounds in it. You're gonna load your magazines with them both an’ complete a simulation cycle of my choosing. You pass an’ I’ll give you a license to both carry and conceal on one more condition.” They both stepped through into a room with a single booth looking down at a firing range. “I’m gonna program the simulation now. At random targets’ll appear down the range. Circle means target and a square means civilian. Generally, squares would be just points deducted. In this case, it’ll fail ya if you hit it. Load up and signal when you’re ready.”

Izuku nodded, he had expected he would have to fire his sidearm to get licensed, so this wasn’t too much of a stretch. Even if he hadn’t expected to have to pass a simulation to do it. He stepped up to the booth and began loading his magazines. As he finished placing them neatly on the table in front of him, he put in his earplugs, and when he was ready, he signaled Snipe to begin the simulation.

---

Snipe had done a lot in his life, and as a pro hero, he had seen a hell of a lot more. When the kid had come into his office, at first his instincts had screamed at him to draw his weapon. He hadn’t because it was a kid. When the kid had asked to get licensed and stared him down, he could feel a pressure coming from this fifteen-year-old that he generally hadn’t felt since he last met some of the old soldiers hardened by the first quirk wars.

Then finally, he had seen the handgun that the boy had apparently machined himself. He wasn’t lying to him, he could tell that much. He had decided to give him this chance for two reasons. First was because if the boy passed, he would be offering him a position as a gunsmith for them. He hadn’t seen craftsmanship like that in some time, and gunsmiths were in short supply in this day and age. The second was because something about this boy was setting off alarms in his head, and he had learned to trust his instincts.

So there Snipe stood, regretting having programmed the simulation to as high a level as he did. He had let that little irrational feeling worry him into setting the simulation to a level that he doubted even he would have been able to complete before his graduation from U.A. That sense of regret only lasted as long as it took Izuku to begin shooting. He hit the start button and the boy took his stance. The targets started flashing up at a pace that would have most shooters dizzy and they only picked up the pace, randomly throwing civilians, targets, and targets over the shoulder of civilians up into the range.

Never once did the boy miss. Never once did the boy put more than one bullet into a target. Never once did the boy miss the center mark on each target and never once did the boy even so much as clip a civilian. When the simulation ended and all one hundred rounds were put down range, the boy expertly ejected his last magazine, pulled the slide back on his sidearm, and set it down, muzzle pointed downrange. He then turned around, once again in parade rest, and waited for Snipe to come out of the control room and tell him his results.

“I have to say, I haven’t seen shootin like that in quite a while. Your quirk must have something to do with accuracy like mine am ah right?” The boy gave him a confused look as he said as much.

“Sir? Didn’t you read my file that the detective sent over with the referral? I’m quirkless.” It took only a moment for the implications of that to sink in before Snipe felt all of the blood drain from his face.

---

Izuku turned when he had finished the simulation, taking his earplugs out. He didn’t think it was his best shooting he had ever done, but he felt that it would suffice for what Snipe was looking for. Snipe came out and immediately asked him a question. “I have to say, I haven’t seen shootin like that in quite a while. Your quirk must have something to do with accuracy like mine am ah right?”

Izuku was confused. He had had Naomasa send his information with the referral so that he wouldn’t be surprised when someone under eighteen walked into his office. “Sir? Didn’t you read my file that the detective sent over with the referral? I’m quirkless.” Snipe was quiet for another long moment, just staring at Izuku’s confused face, before he turned and sat down with his head in his hands. When he looked back up at Izuku, he was back to normal.

“Alright, you passed. I will, as ah stated, give you your licenses. That is on the condition that ya come in every Tuesday evenin and help as a gunsmith. We currently only have one gunsmith on staff and ah have to say as much as ah love guns, servicing them all myself can be painful. This can be for as long as you're willing to help. That being said, I would prefer it if ya were to come in for at least the next couple of months since we’re coming up on huntin season. We’re gonna have a lot of work to do in that time. ”

Izuku thought about it for a second then nodded his head, putting his hand out to shake. He could do through hunting season. Mei wouldn’t be happy that he had other things to do on Tuesday, but it was a small price to pay for his gun licenses.

“An’ kid, if you don’t mind me asking, what is it that ya plan on doing in the future?” Izuku gave him a sad smile now.

“I plan on getting a hero license, sir.” Why he would be sad about that was beyond Snipe, but he had no doubt the kid would manage it. To which he could only think one thing. Thank God.

…

By the time Izuku got out of the store and range, the sun was already going down. He had let time get away from him when he was in the range and, as such, had to take his licenses and get going, promising that he would return Tuesday unless something came up. Everything had gone well that day. All of his tasks for his rest day had been ticked off his list, though he still felt like he was forgetting something. When he got home to his mother with the sidearm now in its holster under his left arm, he very quickly remembered what that something was.

---

“Who was that?” Snipe nearly jumped a dozen feet in the air when Eraserhead's voice came from behind him.

“God damn partner try not to sneak up on someone like that. Nearly gave me a heart attack.” Snipe had locked the door behind Midoriya as he was leaving. When Eraser had gotten into the building, he had no clue. “To answer ya question, I just licensed him for carry and hired him on as a temp gunsmith.”

Aizawa’s eyebrows shot up at this. “Snipe, I’ve known you for quite some time, and in that time, you’ve issued maybe three carry licenses to minors and those were all under extreme circ*mstances. Is this kid someone I need to keep an eye on?” Snipe shook his head.

“Nah the kid actually plans on getting a hero license. But the reason ah licensed him is for two reasons aside from that. One, he’s apparently a damn good gunsmith and ah need one of those. Second is that ah ran him through my personal gauntlet and he passed.”

Aizawa could consider himself impressed at that. He had seen what Snipe considered to be a normal run on his ‘gauntlet’ settings. “What’d the kid score?”

Snipe looked him dead in the eyes and with full seriousness said, "Perfect." All Aizawa could do was stare at him in silence and disbelief.

Chapter 9: Chapter #9 | Chain the Specter

Chapter Text

The sun beamed down on the beach, giving Izuku ample reason to despise the sun. The sand was doing its job and retaining that heat, making the air around him a scorching one hundred and two degrees Fahrenheit. The only relief that Izuku got was the occasional breeze coming off of the ocean, cooling his sweat-slicked skin. Hatsume had decided that until they got a sufficient amount of raw material for her to begin piecing parts together, she was going to help him.

Her hair had grown out recently, and since she hadn’t had time to get it cut with her obsessive focus on the project, she currently had her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, much like Midoriya kept his. She was in shorts and a tank top with a bandana placed over her head but had insisted all the same on wearing her combat boots. How she was managing, Izuku had no idea. He had long since discarded his shirt and was merely in his shorts and shoes. He supposed it helped that she was dismantling scrap into core components while he was lugging heavy objects, either to her to dismantle or to the dumpsite.

The beach, itself, they were making solid progress on. Now that he had someone stripping parts for him, he could focus more on simply clearing. About thirty-five percent of the beach had been cleared by his estimates, and it would, hopefully, pick up pace even further once Jiro joined in. Speaking of which, she should be getting there right around… Izuku heard footsteps approaching the beach from where he was tossing the trash into one of the dumpsters. Now. Izuku set down the rest in the bin and then turned to meet Jiro.

“Hey there, Jiro,” Izuku called out to her as she stood by the wall, staring in disbelief down at the beach. Whether due to the mountains of trash or due to the amount they had already cleared, he wasn’t sure. She had evidently followed his message that morning about the temperature and worn light workout clothing.

“Just how much trash is down there?! There’s a beach under all of that?!” Izuku chuckled. It did indeed seem overwhelming initially. They had already cleared a forty by twenty rectangle out of the beach.

“It's not that bad. Only about two stories of various refuse. We’ve already cleared out about twenty-four thousand cubic feet of trash, so what's remaining is already a lot less than we started with. Follow me and I’ll introduce you to my partner.” Izuku smiled and gestured to her to follow.

“Hey, Mei!” Izuku yelled across the beach as they walked over. Mei, who was bent over an engine bay disassembling, grunted back at him. He had brought that car over to her early this morning and she was only just now getting to it.

“One moment, Izuku. I dropped one of my tools and it fell to the bottom. I’m seeing if I can reach- oh god damn it.” The soft tink of metal on metal followed by a short thud inclined Izuku to believe the tool had just fallen through to the sand. He chuckled and walked up, tapping Mei on the shoulder to get her to shift back. She stepped back, shoulders hunched, and pouted. “I could have gotten it, you know.”

“I’m sure you could, Mei. But it's easier this way since it's on the ground now.” Izuku grabbed the front of the car and lifted it up onto its back fender long enough for Mei to pick up her wrench. She huffed and thanked him before turning around to their guest. She had been prepared to play nice like Izuku had asked and introduce herself. That was until she saw Jiro with her jaw practically on the ground. All she could do was laugh after that.

Jiro looked between Izuku, Mei, the vehicle, and back to Izuku, in that order. “You have a strength augmentation quirk? I always wondered why the definition in your arms was, well, so defined.” Jiro nodded her head as if she was finally understanding. That was until Izuku’s face became pained and Mei started to laugh even harder. Jiro ignored the girl now crying and looked to Izuku for an explanation.

“I don’t have a strength augmentation quirk, Jiro. In fact, I have no quirk at all.” Izuku was wincing when he said it. He may be fine with his quirklessness now, but that didn’t mean that he was unaware of how people tended to react to the quirkless. As if they were a diseased leper in a society of immunodeficient. Jiro went back to being absolutely shocked before sputtering and simply pointing between the car and Izuku. Mei, panting, finally spoke up.

“His muscle and bone density are so far beyond what a normal human being should have, he could probably lift three or four of those at this point. Hell, that's not even the craziest thing I’ve seen him do recently. I’m starting to find the idea that he’s entirely human to be a joke.” Neither girl saw how Izuku winced back as if he had been slapped at that. Mei wiped the tears out of the corner of her eyes and extended her hand to Jiro. “Hatsume Mei. I’m Izuku’s business partner.”

Izuku smiled seeing Mei actually interacting with another person willingly. Even if he hadn’t planned on announcing his quirkless status, it was worth it if this was the outcome. “I’m going to let you two get acquainted. Jiro, when you're ready to get started, grab me. I’ll show you an area with smaller pieces that you can start with.” Izuku narrowed his eyes. Now that he thought about it… “Jiro, have you had any formal combat training? Martial arts? Wrestling? Boxing? Anything at all?” Kyoka blinked at the question and shook her head.

“No, I can't say I have. Is it important?” Her jacks were twitching and she was nervous. Was she supposed to have had some kind of training? Izuku nodded.

“Alright, then I’m going to start training you on that, as well. We’ll take some time later to get you started on the basics. You’re going to be joining us, too, Mei.” Mei’s head snapped back to Izuku. She had gotten distracted with a part and was only now, that Izuku said her name, really processing what they were talking about.

“What?!” Mei squeaked. She was startled by the idea. She was going to be a support technician. Why did she need to know how to fight? “Why am I being dragged into this? Her, I understand.” She gestured to Jiro with her screwdriver. “But I’m going to be staying in my lab. Why would I need to know how to fight?”

Izuku turned his narrowed gaze on her. “That is exactly why you need to know how.” Mei tilted her head and even Jiro was giving him a confused look. He sighed, “Let me put it this way. If you were fighting a war against an overwhelming enemy, where do you start targeting?”

“Infrastructure, civilians, supply lines, industry. What does that have to do with-” Mei cut herself off, eyes widening as she came to the realization Izuku was looking for.

“Exactly. If I were a villain? The first group I’d target and get rid of are the support technicians. They are the scientists. The creators. They are the lifeblood of the supply, the industry. Now I’m not saying you are going to get attacked, Mei. In fact, we’re lucky, as most people labeled villains are just petty criminals. They won’t go after technicians because they aren’t concerned with the big picture. An organization though? They would. What happens when we introduce our prototype, as well? You think companies won’t send people after us?” Mei raised her hands in defeat.

“Fine. Fine. I get it. I’ll join in later.” Her mouth was dry and she reached for her water. She hadn’t thought about it, but it made sense. Izuku nodded his head, then slipped into a small smile.

“Back to a lighter topic. Like I said, Jiro, I’ll train you later. When you're ready to get to the smaller pieces, grab me.” He walked away at this point, picking up a fridge that had already been stripped of all it's usable pieces. His muscles flexed under his skin, and the sun glinted off his tanned skin from many days in the sun. He had the body of a Greek demigod, and as he walked away, Jiro let out a low whistle.

“Good Lord, Green is f*cking jacked.” Jiro was muttering to herself, but evidently Mei had heard her because she snorted at the statement.

“You don’t even know the half of it. When he really gets working at the forge? He’s shirtless, sweaty, and hammering a piece of heated steel.” Mei shuddered and shook her head slightly. “It's kind of terrifying honestly. But. In a good way, you know?”

Jiro looked back to where Midoriya was now carrying the fridge up the stairs with ease. “Yeah, yeah, I get that. I get that really well.”

…

The sun was setting when Jiro’s back hit the sand. She was exhausted. Midoriya made it look easy, and his idea of light was incredibly skewed. Then following that hellish muscle training in the guise of cleanup came the combat training. Initially, it hadn’t been that bad. It started with Midoriya explaining basic strengthening techniques for the muscle groups that weren’t targeted by their cleaning. After that, it had been the basics of the basics. How to properly throw a punch, kick, and block. What she hadn’t been expecting was the routine that came along with that. Repeat into repeat of the same movements made her aware of muscles she didn’t even know she had.

When she finally caught her breath, she set out towards the train station to head home. Izuku had said he’d follow her home to make sure she got there alright. When she protested, he stated that it was just convenient timing, since he had business over in town that way. She shrugged, since she didn’t mind the company, anyway. As they sat down on the train, she groaned. How she was going to get back up at her stop, she had no idea.

“How the hell do you do that every day, Midoriya? I did less than you were doing and I can barely walk. And I’m certain that I will be feeling it worse tomorrow.”

“Well, I can’t exactly claim that I’m the most normal person you should be comparing yourself to, Jiro.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, scrutinizing his expression. “Just how abnormal are you?”

“Enough,” was his only reply before they sank into a companionable silence.

…

When Jiro and Izuku were almost back to her home, she asked him a question. “Midoriya. What you said earlier to Hatsume, about support technicians being in danger. Were you telling the truth?”

“I am a lot of things, Jiro. But a liar is not one of them.” He had a sad expression and distant eyes, as if recalling something long ago. “But yes, to answer your question. Support technicians are generally very well protected behind multiple layers of security. It's one of the major reasons I-Island was created. But I know all too well how easy it is to slip past security if one has a reason to. I want her to be able to protect herself if worse comes to worst.”

Jiro could understand that. A million things could go wrong, and there was no harm in being prepared, after all. “I doubt I’ll be able to join you guys again tomorrow. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to wake up and take a painkiller as it is.”

“I wouldn’t want you to, anyway. Nothing against you but you're not used to this, and straining your muscles too far will only do the opposite of what we want. I’m fairly confident you’ll be able to tell when you should and shouldn’t be joining us. Here’s your stop.” Izuku smiled at her. “It was great to have you along. I’m sure Mei will warm up to you soon enough. She honestly socialized better than I expected her to.”

Jiro laughed. “She looked like she wanted to beat me with her wrench every time I got near the pile of materials she was working on.”

“Yes, well, that’s already better than most. The first time she met me she actually tried to hit me with her wrench, so…” Izuku smiled and waited for her to be fully inside before turning around and letting the smile drop off his face.

“You can come out now. I know you're there.” There was nothing but heavy silence that greeted Midoriya’s comment. But Izuku knew someone was there. He had been able to sense someone following them since they got off the train. “Fine, if that's how we want to play this.” Izuku let all of the guards he had put up slip away. His personality flipping as if a light switch had been flicked.

His eyes glowed a bright viridian, and cyan specs floated around them. It was bright, and anyone looking would think that a demon was staring back at them. He flexed, rolling his shoulders and popping his neck, the promise of violence practically radiating off of him now. “Let me make something very clear.” He growled to the silence. “You can come after me all you want. I don’t care what you do there. But if you go after one of mine? There will be no pit in hell deep enough that you can escape me.”

It took a moment, but the presence faded, and Izuku sighed, letting the light in his eyes recede back into his normal emerald. That had been an unexpected encounter tonight, but he still had one more thing to do before he could head home. Hopefully, it could be dealt with quickly. His mother would be late getting home tonight, and he really wanted to have dinner with her.

…

It didn’t take long to find the man he was looking for. Even if he didn’t have what was basically an inescapable web of cameras to pull from, the man didn’t exactly do subtle very well. He had fallen into step behind the man for a few blocks before following him into an alley. Izuku hadn’t made any attempt to disguise that he was following the man. He had wanted this confrontation, after all.

“Who are you and what do you want?” The man snarled at him, as if Izuku had kicked his dog. Cerulean fire lit in his hands, climbing his arms in an attempt to scare Izuku. The fire lit the alleyway in a ghostly hue, outlining that the man in front of him was not healthy. He had more burn tissue than should be on anybody and a haunted look that told Izuku the information he had gathered was correct.

Izuku parted his hands to either side of him, a universal symbol that he came in peace. “Midoriya Izuku. What I want is you, Dabi.” The man looked down at him with suspicion in his gaze.

“And what would a kid need with a hardened criminal like me?” He still hadn’t put the flames out, but he seemed less tense. Izuku just chuckled.

“If a series of small break-ins where you took only the bare minimum is what you consider to be a hard crime, then you need to relearn what it means to be a criminal, Todoroki Toya.” Izuku gave an icy smile that reflected the look in his eyes that were once again glowing.

Dabi, once on the verge of relaxing, felt his tension immediately spike through the roof, his flames burning brighter than they had been a moment before, and subconsciously he shifted into a combat position. This kid is dangerous. How the hell does he know who I am? How long has he been watching me?

Izuku waved at him in a motion of dismissal. “Relax. I’m not one of your father's goons, and while I doubt I hate him as much as you do, I have no love for our illustrious Number Two.” Izuku let a bit of venom leach into his voice when speaking of Endeavour. Generally, he wouldn’t let his opinions seep so clearly into his tone, but he had a feeling it would help in this situation. “As for how I know who you are, yes, you are that obvious. It isn’t hard to figure out when you have an entire city’s databanks at your disposal. You should just be glad that the police never tasked anyone actually competent to your missing person case.”

“Great. Now I know I have to worry about someone finding me still. You still haven’t answered what you want from me.” Dabi was on edge. He couldn’t get a read on this kid. He clearly wasn’t a cop, and he clearly wasn’t a hero. But he wasn’t a villain, either. Even if his blood had run cold under that gaze and his instincts were screaming at him to run.

Izuku gave him a wide smile now. Dabi felt another chill run down his spine. There was a predator in this alley, and it wasn’t him. “Oh no, you don’t need to worry about anyone else finding you. I scrubbed all trackable information from the systems for you. Think of it as a peace offering, considering how I’ve ambushed you like this. As for what I want? It's simple, really. I want to offer you a job. I know you're looking for one. No one is willing to hire you for a variety of reasons. The place you applied to earlier ripped up your application, by the way. Don’t bother waiting for a call from them.”

Dabi cursed under his breath. He’d had a good feeling about that one, too. The man must have been faking nice. As far as they were concerned, they all saw a burnt, sketchy man that had no real history. Hell, he was barely making it by as it was, and he was getting kind of sick of sleeping in stairwells. “What kind of a job and why would I want it?” Izuku smiled now for real. They both knew that he had him.

“It's quite simple, really. You see people out there, like yourself, need help. Sometimes it's something small. Moving a couch, finding a lost cat, beating the sh*t out of a stalker. Other times, it might be something bigger. Escaping from an abusive husband and getting them to an extraction location, returning a stolen item to its rightful owner, beating up several bigger stalkers. I’ll pay you a flat fee for each, varying based on the task at hand with a potential bonus if you can handle the situation without incident. You’ll handle the situation and, in return, they’ll owe me a favor down the line.” Izuku’s smile was hard and vicious at that last point. “In this coming year, I’ll be setting up a facility of sorts. I’ll then be transitioning you to head of security for that facility. At that point, you will be paid a salaried wage, and if you would like, you can stop doing the contracts entirely.”

“And why would you want me for this? There are others more capable, surely.” Izuku shook his head.

“Certainly that might be the case, but you are special. You know both sides of this. You have a criminal mind, but you aren’t past the point of no return. What you’ve done can be expunged from the system. Besides that, you know the heroes' side, as well. Oh, don’t get me wrong. People like us? We aren’t heroes, even if we have a license saying otherwise. We operate in a gray zone that people don’t like to think about. But it's a chance for you to do good, despite everything you’ve been through.”

Dabi thought about it, staring intently at the boy. No, not a boy. Demon in front of him. He knew too much, spoke too well, and played the game like a pro. He was right, of course, and he couldn’t exactly pass up an offer this good. Dabi nodded his head slowly, agreeing to the offer, and let his flames fade out. It was like everything the boy had said and done up to this point had been an act. His smile dimmed into a proper, soft one, and the creature that was hunting him before was gone, as if it had never existed. He shuddered at the easy transition. The kid wished him goodnight, turned, and walked out of the alleyway. It wasn’t until his phone buzzed in his pocket with a list of contracts and their commission prices that he decided he had just sold his soul to the devil.

Chapter 10: Chapter #10 | Breaking The Mold

Chapter Text

Izuku sat at his desk, slowly twirling his pin through his fingers. It was early enough in the morning that Izuku couldn’t head into the workshop without risking either disturbing someone or worrying his mother. Instead, he sat there, staring at his screen that was covered in informatics. It had become evident to him that he would need a source of funding early on. Sure, they could make a vast majority of the parts they needed from the beach scrap, but there were certain critical pieces that he would not risk being faulty. Besides that, there were tools, daily expenses, and now, Dabi’s commissions. Which, Izuku was happy to note, were being completed at a rather judicious pace. He had been surprised at the discretion with which Dabi was able to operate when given the incentive. Not displeased, certainly. Just surprised.

As such, he was spending this particular ungodly hour of the morning playing the American stock market like a fiddle. There was plenty of short term money to be made from the daily playing of stocks. It had taken him a bit to actually establish the accounts to do so, but now that he had them, he wouldn’t really have to worry about their funding when in conjunction with his other method of gathering funds.

One would be surprised at just how many bank accounts out there belonged to dead people, wherein the banks couldn’t touch the funds and the families didn’t know or think about them. Was it the most ethical? Oh, most certainly not. But Izuku wasn’t about to let that get to him. After all, they couldn’t use it, and if it was just going to sit there, then he had better uses for it.

So here Izuku sat, twirling away as info flittered by. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, before deciding he needed some fresh air. Looking at the clock, he decided that he had just enough time for a quick snack on the roof before he would have to finish out his final bids and prepare for the day.

He went to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water and a granola bar, and made his way to the fire escape. He had spent a lot of time up on the roof when he was younger. For him, it was a place he could get away to. One where he could look out over the city without anything, or anyone, to worry about. There Izuku sat, the sun just preparing to crest the horizon and warm the city in its golden glow, and simply watched the lights of the city glow in the twilight.

Deep breaths of morning air and the faint rays of morning light had nearly worked their wonders on his disturbed psyche when a light set of bootsteps landed on the roof behind him. Out of everyone that Izuku had encountered since returning to Japan, the person behind him certainly rated the highest in terms of both mobility and stealth if they just came from the roof beside theirs. The footsteps were slowly making their way towards him when he spoke to the noise.

“If you are attempting to sneak up on me then I must say you are the closest to someone capable of it that I’ve met recently.” The noise stopped and Izuku glanced over his shoulder. There he saw what he might have considered to be the single most exhausted human being he had ever seen.

Standing around six feet, the man looked like an absolute mess. Black hair cascaded to his shoulders in a waterfall that disappeared behind a coil of what appeared to be a scarf. He wore black from head to toe with a belt of pouches around his waist. The man had stopped when he had spoken to him and was now taking him in, a careful look on his face.

“What are you doing up here, kid? Shouldn’t you be asleep? It's nearly five in the morning.” It was clear the man was wary of him. The kid recognized the man through the footage he was always surveying, of course. One of the few heroes that still had his respect, Eraserhead didn’t do it for the media attention. In fact, he actively went out of his way to avoid it. Izuku waved his hand in circles around the air, gesturing at nothing, while still leaning against one of the roof edges.

“I'm just catching some air. I live down below. It's been a long night, and I wanted to see the sunrise before heading into the workshop. How about you join me? If I had to guess, you’ve not had a moment's rest all night, either.” The man was still cautious, of course, but had relaxed considerably upon hearing him to be a resident of the building. He leaned against the edge of the roof beside the kid.

The kid was a curiosity, Aizawa decided. He recognized him from The Line of Duty. Snipe had given him the kid's file when he had asked to see it, so he knew the kid was only fifteen. Yet, standing there with the kid on a rooftop awaiting the first rays of the day, he didn’t see a teenager. If it was possible, he saw someone that was as tired as himself. Not the kind of bodily tiredness that he was so used to dealing with, but a kind of weariness that sank into the very spirit of a person.

They were only there for a few minutes, simply relaxing in the peace of the moment when the first golden rays peaked over the horizon. For the first time since the boy asked Aizawa to join him, he spoke. “In the first warming rays of the sun's ascent, we find a self-evident truth. That every day is a fresh start, a new chapter in this saga we call life. And knowing that, we can be happy knowing each day is a gift.”

Midoriya sighed and stretched, before turning and heading back towards the fire escape. He stepped over to the edge and was preparing to drop down to the landing when he stopped. “Go home and get some sleep, Eraser. I’m sure Hizashi is worried about you after last night.”

Aizawa jerked as if he had just been stabbed by a cattle prod. How did the kid know about the raid he was part of? How does he know about Hizashi? But by the time his brain had caught up with the shock, the kid was already gone. Midoriya Izuku, just who are you?

…

Izuku had a problem. He had been carrying the final parts they needed to finish the prototype reactor to the workshop. The problem arose when he got to the door and realized that there was no way he was going to be able to open it without putting the parts down, and frankly that thought annoyed him for some odd reason. He kicked the door several times to try to get Hatsume’s attention, to no avail.

He was just about to kick in the door when happily, for the door, Hatsume opened it. She went bug-eyed when she saw his knee up and chambered and dove back into the workshop, as if she had just seen the fist of god itself coming down on her. Which, considering how training had been going for her since they’d started sparring, she might actually have seen her life flash before her eyes.

“Relax, Mei, I have no plans on attacking you at random. Not only would it not serve as effective training, but it would also just make you paranoid.” Izuku stepped into the workshop with his pile of boxes and set them down in a corner. “That’s the last of the parts we’ll need for the prototype. Also,” Izuku tossed a box to Mei. She stumbled but managed to catch it. “Merry Christmas five months early.”

Mei was confused until she opened the box to find everything she would need to put together a kit for plasma arc welding. She jerked her head up, thanking Midoriya profusely before narrowing her eyes at him. “Are you only giving me this because we need it for the reactor?”

“Absolutely. Otherwise, you’d be waiting the extra five months for it.” Izuku was already grabbing pieces out of the boxes and putting them aside in the order they would be needed. Hatsume chuckled and rolled her shoulders. Today was going to be a good day for science.

…

Jiro had seen a lot of strange things since becoming friends with Midoriya. She’d seen him, quirkless, lift an entire car as if it were made of aluminum foil. She had seen Hatsume almost blow them up with items that shouldn’t even have been able to catch fire, much less blow up. So when the heavy metal door of the two’s garage went flying off its hinges fast enough to imbed it in the concrete across from it, Jiro wished she could say she was surprised. The noise of the metal door slamming into the concrete still made her jump, but surprised she was not.

The two people in question stepped out of the garage with a mixture of expressions. Wonderment, surprise, and Jiro narrowed her eyes because she was fairly certain that was a fervent joy. To Kyoka, they looked like lunatic mad scientists one would see in old movies. Their hair was sticking practically on end and their eyes had this crazy energy to them. The image certainly wasn’t disproven when the two looked from her, to the door, and then at each other. Only to then start cackling maniacally. “What the hell is going on here? Why is the door now part of the concrete?”

Izuku wiped the tears out of the corner of his eyes, hair still standing up, and choked out a response. “We completely and utterly underestimated the electrical field that would be generated by the reactor when we turned it on. It polarized all of the metal in the room and launched it away. In the case of our tools, they're all stuck to the walls. In the case of the door, well.” He went back to laughing and Jiro looked to Mei, who was finally getting herself under control. Jiro's expression must have been enough to say that she was still confused, because Hatsume finished the explanation.

“We accidentally turned everything in the room into magnets. Because of that, the reactor flung absolutely everything away from it. In the case of the door, because of the size of the now magnetized door, it was launched far harder than everything else.

Jiro shook her head and was about to retort on why the two smartest people she knew didn’t anticipate this when she realized what it meant had happened. “You got it working? The reactor is operational?”

Hatsume's smile was wide and crazy, while Mirdoriya’s would have been tempered by the knowledge that he would be the one fixing the heavy door now embedded in the concrete retaining wall. Had the two of them, of course, not just revolutionized practically everything. Izuku told them to wait a moment while he went inside and turned the reactor off. He didn’t have to tell them when it was off, as the loud clang of metal indicated when he had.

Jiro stepped inside to find the garage an absolute disaster area. Every single thing with metal in it that wasn’t the reactor had been practically launched at the walls. Despite this, the two crazies acted like nothing was wrong and were both hunched over their blueprints, acting as if a reactor hadn’t almost destroyed their workshop only moments before.

“Uh. Not to downplay the massive accomplishment you both just achieved, but why did you call me here? We all know I won’t be much help with,” Jiro waved her hand around, gesturing to the workshop, “all of this.” She was confused. While she had certainly been at their workshop before when she helped them carry materials or met them here before heading to the beach, they had never called her here without a reason.

Midoriya looked up from the blueprints on the desk. The crazed look he had been sporting until now faded into a warm one. “Ah yes, you are correct. We didn’t call here just to witness this. Though it is a happy coincidence that we got the prototype working for your appearance.” Izuku walked away from their blueprints to one of the several device storage containers they kept in the corner of the garage. After a moment, Izuku pulled a small silver case out of the container before closing the container and turning to Jiro.

“We both know that you would rather be home with family right now, and you're welcome to go home after this, but these are from both of us. Happy Birthday, Jiro.” Izuku handed the silver case over to Kyoka despite her considerable surprise. When had he learned her birthday? When she opened the case, she was further both surprised and confused.

There were two small, silver patch-like objects, as well as a nondescript silver wrist band. She looked up to Izuku and Mei smiling. “These two, “Midoriya reached into the case and picked up the two small silver disks, “go right here under your ears.” Jiro’s earjacks twitched, and she could feel her face flare up as Izuku reached his hands back behind her ears and put the disks in place.

“Meanwhile, this goes here on your wrist.” He placed the band on her wrist before pressing a button and having it conform to its new home. "They, together, serve multiple purposes. First, I noticed your interest in the holo tech we’ve been working on. Your wrist unit wirelessly connects to any of your devices and will display anything from it in front of you, amongst other fun tidbits I’ll let you find. The two disks behind your ears serve two purposes. The first is that any of the music you queue up from your device will play through them via bone conduction. We originally developed it for some of my future gear, but it works well in this case, as well. The second, more important, feature is one I think you’ll be rather fond of.” Jiro noticed Hatsume putting in earplugs and Izuku picking up two large pieces of metal too late to stop him. He slammed the two pieces of metal together hard enough to cause a gust of wind and the two rods to bend. Instinctively, Jiro stepped back and was putting her hands up towards her ears when she realized that they weren’t bleeding from the sound wave. Izuku smiled at her shock while Hatsume spoke up.

“The two disks will modulate any sound over a certain decibel threshold down to a more tolerable level. Izuku noticed you flinching at some of the louder noises around us and mentioned we had the tech to fix that issue. We just barely managed to get them done for today.”

Jiro was in shock. She knew the two were her friends, but to go to this extent? She hadn’t realized that they cared enough to notice, much less help her with her issues. Mei suddenly tensed when she saw Jiro start to cry. “What, what's wrong? What happened? Did we do something wrong, Izuku?” Izuku shook his head, smiling, and Jiro laughed, wiping at her eyes. “No, Mei. We did something right.”

…

Jiro spent some time with them after she had pulled herself back together. Hatsume’s mother had stopped by and exclaimed in shock that Jiro was actually real. They had all laughed at that, and eventually Jiro chose to go home and spend the time with her family.

Izuku was on his back under the reactor, tweaking part of it, when Mei bit her lip, debating on whether or not to bother Izuku with her plan. Finally, she decided they were partners, and he would need to be in on this. “Izuku, could you come out of there for a moment?” He slid out from under. A bit of black had been smeared from somewhere across his nose, and he had an eyebrow quirked up at her.

“What’s up, Mei?” He set his tools aside and dusted himself off, standing and walking over to the desk where she was. She was nervous, he noted, concerned. It wasn’t like her to be acting so apprehensive.

“Well, I’ve been thinking for a while, and we’re going to make a lot of money when we announce this. Like I said before, this is revolutionary. But up until this point, we’ve been calling each other business partners but haven’t, you know, made it official. So I thought that maybe. You know.” She pulled out what Izuku recognized as a crude floor plan for a workshop with a company name scrawled messily at the top of it. She was fidgeting in place and blushing, clearly waiting on a response from him. He looked at it for a second before giving her a smile.

“It's a good name, but I think I can do you one better on this front.” He gestured to the paper before walking over to the containers. From them, he pulled the same black tube he had delivered the reactor blueprints in all that time ago. He twisted the cap off and, much to Mei’s surprise, pulled another full set of blueprints from the tube. This time, however, when he sat them down on the desk, he immediately scrawled the name she had on her paper across the top of it. Her mouth opened and closed in surprise as she looked over what appeared to be a detailed floor plan of a now named company building. She looked up at him and was met by the same warm, wide smile she had begun to associate with him.

“Is this what I think it is? Why do you have this… What?” He laughed for the umpteenth time that day and thought how good it was to have friends he could laugh with again.

“I had been thinking of the same thing for a while. Though I hadn’t come up with a name that described the two of us so perfectly, I did map out a floor plan and found a plot of land where we can build. If, of course, it looks good to you, partner?” Hatsume snapped out of her shock and looked up at Izuku. Meeting him was the best thing that had happened to her, by far, and this only cemented it. They got back to work finishing their prototype and figuring out how they were going to introduce it to the world. But never did the blueprints for Moonlit Industries move from the top of their blueprint desk.

Chapter 11: Chapter #11 | Forge of Destiny

Chapter Text

Izuku looked around his room, now barren and empty. There were a lot of memories in this place, and he would be sad to leave it behind. Izuku shook his head and turned around, heading towards the now empty living room where his mother was waiting for him. All things must end eventually.

Midoriya Inko had always known her son was intelligent. But recently she wondered how she didn’t know he was this intelligent. Not only had he, with Mei, created something that most other scientists had long since given up on, but he had also, in the months following, completed high-level negotiations with both companies wishing to make use of their technology and the city, as well. As it turns out, when two of the biggest names in technology in decades imply that they may move out of the city to find space for their headquarters, the city is inclined to accommodate the wishes of the aforementioned two people.

Her son had used that to his advantage to secure a sizable piece of land on the city's outskirts. After talking it over with his partner, the two of them decided that it would be in everyone's best interests if their families remained close. As such, both Inko and the Hatsumes were fit to move into new homes practically next door to the headquarters. If the two mothers suspected it was just an excuse to practically live in their labs, neither was terribly willing to say it out loud after what their children had already accomplished.

“Well, Mom, looks like it's time to say goodbye to the old place.” Izuku murmured the line as they both took in the apartment around them. It was the end of a chapter for both of them, and they just needed a few moments to take that in. Even if the Hatsumes were waiting on them at street level.

…

Everyone had been packing for weeks. They had even gotten up early that morning to move into their new places. Despite that, it was almost midday when the two families, and a few extras, stood in front of the glass doors that led to the reception of the newly created Moonlit Industries. Jiro had decided on coming, despite the disruption to her class schedule, because it was a big day for the two of them. And Detective Tsukauchi had insisted on coming along for opening day security, as he called it. Izuku knew from working with him that the detective really just wanted to get out of his office and away from the mountain of paperwork that awaited him. He also knew that he could consider the detective a friend after the hours they had spent pouring over minor cases together, so he wasn’t about to call the poor man out on it.

Izuku stepped forward now, as he was the only one who had been here through the construction process to supervise. There were specific pieces of the facility that he needed to install personally. After all, only he and Mei were fit for dealing with the fusion reactors situated in the basem*nt at the current time.

“Well, everyone, let me start by saying that both Mei and I are glad you chose to move into your new homes nearby. It certainly eases our minds knowing you all are so close.” Izuku started as if he were giving a speech with a fake smile and wide gestures. But about halfway through, his smile became soft and he chuckled at the sheer absurdity of it. “I suppose there is no need for that. Sorry, everyone. I’ve just gotten stuck in a certain mindset with all of the meetings I’ve had to attend these last six months." Izuku rolled his shoulders and gestured off to the side.

“First, before we go in, if you guys look over that way you’ll see our two hanger bays and their adjoining building. We won’t go over there today, but that's where our aerospace department will be located. Any of the plans we have for flying things will also be taken care of over there for the most part.” Izuku gestured for everyone to follow, tapping his hand against a small black square by the door and leading them all inside.

“We obviously have our reception, which, might I say, Kyoka, you did an absolutely amazing job at designing the interiors of the common areas.” Jiro preened while Hatsume grumbled at that and her mother laughed. It had taken some convincing for Mei to let Kyoka design the interiors for them. But after showing Mei a couple of the designs, even she had to admit that they were better than what either one of them could come up with. Ask them to build you a workshop and you could count on them. Ask them to tell you how to match shades with furniture and you were in for quite the ugly room.

Izuku gestured through the two security windows at the back of reception. “Through there is our security office. Our head of security will be able to keep an eye on both reception and every other part of the building, and before any of you ask, yes, Mei and I already have someone in mind for that role. We’ll be meeting with him later after everyone is settled in.” Izuku had introduced Hatsume to Dabi eventually. After all, they were partners, and it was technically her business as well, after all. Izuku had certainly worried about that meeting before it happened.

Hatsume still had that shine towards daytime heroes that the two of them had lost long ago. Besides that, what Izuku, Dabi, and the network of other agents were doing wasn’t technically legal. Several months later, while they still didn’t get along perfectly, Dabi and Mei could at least get along for short periods.

Neither Hatsume nor Midoriya had ever intended for Jiro to meet Dabi. Not that she wouldn’t eventually, but it just wasn’t something they had gone out of their way to set up, and except for a few extreme cases where they had to work together, most of the communication they did was through their phones. Because of this, neither of them expected the two to hit it off like they did when they finally met. Apparently enjoying the same genre of music is a fantastic bonding agent.

Izuku once again led everyone through a series of security doors that led them back behind the security office. He led them past a conference room and into a long hallway leading both ways from where they were. “Down that way,” Izuku gestured down one of the sides, “we have our material warehouse with its loading bays, lunchroom, and finally an auditorium for when the smaller, department sized conference room won’t do. I must take this moment to remind you, Mei, that you will also have to take over some of the lectures regarding the reactors. We can’t have technicians who have no idea what they're doing working with them. Yes, we can give them all the documentation, but I’m not risking the first batch of engineers who will be teaching others not knowing how to properly manage them.” Izuku turned and walked down the hall the other way just a short way before stopping again and turning to them.

“On my right here we have our cold storage. Pretty self-evident what that one is for. Both the material warehouse and cold storage are linked in the back to our freight elevators that aid in larger materials going up and projects coming down. Here on my left, we have our personal offices.” Midoriya was cut off by Mei’s narrowed eyes and glare.

“Izuku, why does the plaque on your door say doctor?” Izuku tugged nervously at the collar of his shirt while chuckling.

“Well. I had a lot of time while supervising the construction work, so I might have ever so slightly finished the first set of doctorates I was working on…” The crowd groaned at him in unison, with yells of first set?! peaking above them all. Inko was already crying and, except for Mei, the Hatsume family was attempting to calm her. Mei was still giving him the stink eye, grumbling something about getting ahead of her when Kyoka decided to ask the million-dollar question.

“Wait. What disciplines were your doctorates in?” That was all it took for the entire crowd to snap their focus back to him and become laser-focused on his response. Izuku sighed. He hadn’t wanted to make a big deal of this.

“Biomedical and biomechanical engineeri-” Izuku couldn’t get his new degree fields out before his mother was crying again. It was a moment before the group was able to continue up the stairs to the second floor.

Once they had made it upstairs and through the credential checkpoint, Izuku gestured to his left. “Here on the left is where I suspect I’ll be spending a lot of my time. This is the biological and chemical suite we have at Moonlit Industries. It's complete with everything we could need and then some, including an operating theater in the back. Next, we have our robotics suite. At the far end of the hallway, we have our workshop and forge suite next to our weapons development suite.” Mei bolted down the hallway and Izuku quirked his left eyebrow. He hadn’t seen her run that quickly even in their training. He’d have to push her harder if she had that in her. They continued walking, and Izuku continued talking, while she ran ahead.

“I’ve got a feeling she’ll be back quickly since I’ve not given her her credentials yet. As I was saying, on the right here we have our freight elevators and then bunk rooms with a locker room and shower suite. I don’t expect people to live here like us two, but I know there are people out there like us that get so absorbed in their work that they don’t go home. As such, we have a place for them to crash, rather than sleep at their desks. Finally, across fro-” Hatsume had returned and was practically vibrating in place.

“Izuku. You have to let me in now. Do you know how many babies I can make with equipment like that? Of course you do. Let me in. Where’s the keycard. What do I need.” Mei was in the process of patting him down when he laughed and picked her up and put her back with the rest of the group.

“After we get through the tour and get settled in, I’ll give you your credentials, Hatsume. You can hold off a bit longer. You’ve already been waiting months for this. You can wait a couple more hours at most.” Once again Mei was grumbling but conceded, as there wasn’t really anything she could do about it once he made up his mind like this.

“As I was saying, this here serves as both a break area and the common area for upstairs.” Izuku led them up a staircase in the back of the room to a long, bending hallway with several doors. “Finally, this is the residential layer.” He nervously turned back to the group of family and friends. “This layer contains several full apartments for several of us. That includes Mei and me.” Mei, now standing beside Izuku, was fidgeting under the gaze of their parents.

Their serious gazes that were searing into the two’s skulls were a stark contrast when they broke down laughing. Mei’s mother was practically in tears, and Inko was barely able to choke out her words. “We knew you two would practically live in your labs, but you actually finessed it to live in your labs.” Inko shook her head and gave them a sad smile. “Honestly, we figured something like this was coming and talked about it already. You two went through all the effort of moving us in next door, and frankly, you’ll already be moving out when you go for your Hero and Support Licenses. We figure we can use this to get a bit more used to the idea.”

…

Everyone had mostly cleared out of the building except Izuku, Mei, and their favorite detective. Izuku had brought them into the bio suite and was now holding what appeared to be two pen-like objects.

“First, I’d like to thank you for coming today, Naomasa. You didn’t have to come, but you made the time. That’s why I want to extend to you a gesture of goodwill.” Izuku gestured for the detective to give him his hand. When he had, Izuku pressed the pen between his middle and ring fingers. With a hiss, the pen released it's payload and made Naomasa jerk slightly.

“That is a chip that will allow you to access the facility, should you need to. I want to make something clear, Naomasa. I make this offer off the record, and I know you’ll keep it that way. I don’t have a medical license, but I do have the knowledge and ability if the time should ever come that you need something done unofficially.”

Izuku was going to let the implications hang in the air when Naomasa, understandably startled, started to tell Izuku that he was a detective and he shouldn’t say something like that. Izuku cut him off, speaking softly now. His words carrying the weight of experience in them. “We both know life isn’t always so simple or black and white. The offer stands.” The detective frowned for a moment, duty warring with the reality of the offer in his head. In the end, he simply nodded and thanked Izuku before leaving.

…

Mei shook her hand after she’d had the RFID implanted under her skin. She spoke seriously to Izuku, who was putting away one of the pressure syringes and reloading the other. “Now, what didn’t you show everyone else?”

Izuku looked at her for a moment. “Am I getting that predictable?”

Mei shook her head. “Only to me. Besides, we talked about several concepts that I didn’t see around. I know you didn’t toss them out, so the question is where you installed them.”

Izuku chuckled, nodding his head. “You are correct. The holding cells, my station for information brokering, A.I. Core, and all the other less than technically legal things are in a sublevel under the basem*nt only accessible by your chip and mine currently. But I’ll show you that stuff later. Dabi should almost be here. Let's head down to my office since I’ve already set it up.”

…

Izuku’s office was very much styled in an old wooden motif. Central to the room was an old, heavy wooden desk surrounded on both walls by hardwood bookshelves lined with technical manuals, heavy reference books, and a dozen other types. When Izuku led Dabi into his office and sat down behind his desk, Hatsume walked over from one and sat on the edge.

“Hey there, smokey, glad you could make it in.” Dabi snorted and shook his head.

“If any of us should be happy they’re on time, it's you, gearhead.” Izuku let them playfully snipe at each other a bit more before he cut it off and launched into what he wanted to cover.

“Do you remember what I told you in that alleyway months ago?” Izuku watched Dabi’s face as he squinted before shaking his head.

“Sorry, not entirely, no. I was a little too busy pissing myself at the idea someone knew who I was and fighting the instinct to just turn you into charcoal.” Dabi suddenly shuddered, remembering the handful of times Izuku had come on a mission with him. “No offense, but you're f*cking scary. I’m pretty certain I’d be dead if I’d tried.”

Izuku laughed, a dark tone leaching into it, causing a chill to go down the backs of both others in the room. “That’s because you would have been dead before you could so much as raise an arm. But that’s irrelevant. As I told you back then, once we opened this facility, you’d be offered the position of head of security here. That is, of course, a salaried position, and you’d be able to take an apartment upstairs. Let me assure you, it's better than where you're living now.”

Dabi shuddered. “Must you mention that you know where I live. It's kind of disconcerting.” Izuku shrugged with an it's my job kind of smirk on his face. Dabi sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I take it that if I’m going to be taking on the position, I won’t be required to complete the commissions?”

Mei nodded, confirming Dabi’s assumption. “As Izuku told you before, smokey, after you take the position, it would be your choice to take on commissions or not. Besides that, you’ve helped build enough of a network at this point that if we put up a commission onto the board, someone would generally take it just to be helpful. Though some of the more... complicated… situations will still need for you two to step in personally.”

Dabi nodded, agreeing to take the position then. Izuku smiled, reaching across the desk to shake his hand. When Dabi took his hand, Izuku pinned it to the desk, drawing the new pressure syringe and injecting it before Dabi could react. He jerked back, shaking his hand. “Son of a bitch. What the f*ck was that?”

Izuku laughed, tapping his own hand in the same place. “Subdermal RFID chip. It contains your credentials, so you just need to tap the pad next to any of the doors to get through. Only a few things to finish, really, then you’re clear to get settled in. First, we need to show you your office and the two armories, as well as introduce you to your coworker. Then I need to show you both the areas that aren’t on the official floorplan. Besides that, I just have a question for you.”

“Uh, coworker? I thought I was the only security personnel at this time.” Izuku and Mei shared a look then that Dabi was certain would haunt him in his dreams that night. They smiled at each other like two madmen about to introduce their pet project.

“You are correct, you are the only security personnel. That being said, you’ll be working closely with someone that Mei and I created. We didn’t have time to do much actual inventing in the last six months, but we had plenty of time to work on our computers. Hence my doctorates, and ahem. Phoenix, are you there?”

Dabi was about to ask Izuku who he was talking to when a synthetic female voice seemed to materialize from ether around them. “Affirmative, Izuku. I am now fully integrated with the A.I. Core and ready to assist.”

“What the f*ck.” Mei was now laughing while Izuku was the one explaining.

“Dabi, meet Phoenix. She is a fully capable artificial intelligence that we created to aid us in our daily tasks, as well as to monitor the information network and aid in logistics. She is a secret for now, as A.I. research is technically a moral gray area that people don’t like to think about. But just consider her a person whose body is the facility around you. Or don’t, if you find that a little creepy. The point is, she is as much a person as you or me.”

Dabi nodded his head slowly. Midoriya never gave him small amounts of information to take in. He was once again wishing that his boss was even the slightest bit normal. “Alright. Before we tour the facility, what was the question that you wanted to ask me?”

Izuku grinned ear to ear now. It was too wide with far too much of his teeth to be a kind smile. Instead, Dabi shivered, because it was the same one that reminded him of the predator his boss was instead of the kid he looked like. His hands crossed in front of him, and he relaxed back into his seat. “How would you like me to fix your quirk and body, Dabi?”

Chapter 12: Chapter #12 | The Silhouette in the Mirror

Chapter Text

“Wha… What? How? What?” Dabi wasn’t sure how to feel. For so many years he wanted nothing more. Years where all he had wanted to do was impress his father. But now, if you asked him? He wasn’t so sure anymore. He had come to terms with his quirk’s double-edged nature years ago, and for once in his life, he felt good. He had a job, he had a home, he had friends and a purpose. Dabi couldn’t help feel a little bitter that this was being offered now. After everything that had happened.

Izuku raised his hands to either side of himself in front of him. “Before you ask, no. This is not a requirement, nor am I stating that you are somehow unable to do the job sufficiently now. I do not view your quirk as broken, even if the wording I used would imply as much. I have no doubt you can do the job without any problems. I am making this offer because I know how it feels to be looked at like you do. Which is, might I note, an incredibly stupid way for people to behave considering the society we live in.” Izuku put his hands down on the desk and shook his head, a knowing and sad expression gracing his features. Mei had, Dabi was happy to say, no pity on her face. Instead, he found fury in her eyes, even if she had trained her face to be rather impassive. They may have fought like cats and dogs, but she would go to bat for him in a heartbeat.

“If you were to say yes, there are multiple ways I could do it.” Dabi returned his eyes to Izuku and found him holding up several fingers. “First, we could take the longer route and I could study your quirk. Then, using that data, I could manipulate your quirk’s genetic data to give you better resistance to your flames. The issue is, I haven’t ever done that, and I have no idea what kind of side effects you could see down the road. Second, I can alter your genome to boost your natural non-quirk abilities. This is limited, as there is only so far I can take that without going into option three. You would see an improvement across the board of all basic functions. Five senses, healing, and most importantly, for you, temperature resistance. The third option is one that is a particular secret, even amongst secrets, because what I am going to propose is morally in a deep gray area, and ethically is incredibly illegal. I can rewrite your genome entirely.” Mei’s head whipped around to look at him in a combined expression of horror and fascination. She hadn’t known he could do that. There was impressive, and then there was what Izuku was suggesting.

”In doing so, I can boost your abilities beyond even what I could do normally and incorporate some… let's call it accelerated evolution.” Izuku’s face was all business now. There were no jokes, and he wasn’t kidding about what he said next. “Let me make something clear. If you choose option three, I can assure you of what could, can, and will happen. I can tell you why it is happening and even improve upon it once you’ve gotten used to it.” Izuku was no longer the one sitting there with them. Instead, there was a haggard old man who looked through them while speaking. “But with all things, there is a price to pay for such a path and it is a steep one. Regardless.” The air that was oppressive and suffocating suddenly lifted. Izuku was once again smiling as if the last few moments had never happened. “This isn’t exactly a decision that could or should be made on the spot. Sleep on it. Then get back to me on your answer.” Izuku stood, pulling a directory out of his desk. “You're in room three up top. Go get some sleep. I can show you everything in the morning. Phoenix, if he needs help or has a question, feel free to answer them for him.”

…

Dabi was starting to get used to feeling out of his depth, but this was something else entirely. It felt as if he had just been tossed in the middle of the ocean during a hurricane and was expected to tell up from down. He stopped halfway up the second flight of stairs leading to the residential. “Phoenix? Are you there?”

Dabi only had to wait for a moment before the calm female voice spoke. “I am, Dabi. I monitor the facility at all times while multitasking between my other priorities.”

“If I might ask for your honest opinion, why did Midoriya make his offer to me? Surely he has someone better he could give the job to. And fixing my quirk? Do I even need to vocalize how confused I am?” There was another moment of silence before Phoenix responded.

“I have not been… alive, as you humans would call it, for long. I have only been as such for a short time and have only been integrated with my full suite of systems for an even shorter period.” Dabi sighed. That was a fair. He couldn’t exactly ask a kid these kinds of questions, could he?

“However, I have observed a trend that I believe would be helpful to you in this situation. The individual you know as Midoriya Izuku does everything he can to help people. Sometimes even to his own detriment. You are one of the very few A-rank operators that he has in his network and, to my knowledge, the only operator that he has allowed on S-rank commissions with him. I have no doubt that he believes wholly that you can do your job, regardless of your decision. If you are wondering why he has extended the offer to you, there are many things that you can say about him, but Father takes care of his own.”

…

Mei watched Dabi walk out of the room before turning to Izuku. “Since when could you rewrite the human genome? Don’t give me any kind of excuse about having just completed your doctorates, either, because if you’d presented a dissertation on what you just described to Dabi? The entire world would have heard about it.”

Izuku looked up at Mei and maintained eye contact, despite the bewildered and slightly irked state she was in now. He sighed. He had been doing that a lot lately, now that he thought about it. “Honestly, Mei? A long time ago, and no, I don’t particularly want to talk about it.” Izuku could see Mei about to launch into one of her speeches and threw his hands into the air. “I’ll tell you eventually. But please, Mei, not tonight.”

Mei’s teeth clicked together and her jaw clenched. It frustrated her that there was something wrong that she couldn’t fix. She couldn’t help him if he didn’t tell her anything damn it. It was her turn to sigh now. As much as she wanted to push, that wouldn’t get her anywhere. Once Izuku set his mind to something, he didn’t change it easily.

“Fine. But I am going to hold you to that. Shall we go look at the rest of the facilities now?” Izuku’s smile at that didn’t quite reach his eyes, which were still far too weary for her liking. But it was a start.

Izuku stepped over to one of his bookcases and pressed his hand to the back of one of the bottom shelves. There was a loud click, and the bookcase swung away from the wall, revealing another security door behind it. “Indeed. We shall.”

…

It was another three days before Dabi had made his decision. He took a deep breath before entering the workshop where his boss was. Hatsume was working on what was inevitably, he was certain, going to blow up at least twice before she got it working. Right now it looked just like a small motherboard, but when it came to the Gearhead, he wasn’t going to trust it. He found the person he was searching for looking down at a series of small hexagonal plates. The plates looked like a web of electronics, and if one thing was certain, he had absolutely no idea what it was.

“What exactly are those?” Dabi spoke up once Midoriya had set down his tools.

“Hmm? Oh. These are basically just ultracapacitors. Ideally, I’ll make these again once we develop a few of our material designs over the coming week. These are just for a proof of concept. Something up? You don’t usually wander into the labs.” Izuku was looking at Dabi expectantly, waiting for the reason he had come to visit them.

“I made my decision. I’ll go with option three.” Izuku stared at him now, searching his eyes for any kind of hesitation. Any kind of doubt that would indicate he needed to tell Dabi to continue thinking on the offer. He found none and nodded.

“If you’re sure of your decision, then alright.” He stood, picking up a small bag of metal disks. “If you need me, I’ll be in the bio suite, Mei.” She grunted at him from where she was now, grabbing one of the many fire extinguishers in the room.

…

“Alright, this is how it's going to work. On your side, you're going to take this,” Izuku held up a small white tablet, “and you're going to wake up in about a week. When you do, we’ll have to take things slow because you’re not going to be used to the sheer amount of sensory data you’ll be exposed to following the changes.” Dabi choked when he heard he was going to be out of it for a week.

“A week? How am I supposed to do my job if I’m out cold?” Izuku quirked an eyebrow before snorting.

“You say as if your boss isn’t the one that's going to be performing the operation.” Izuku shook his head then waved a hand at Dabi. “I think we’ll manage quite well while you're recovering. If there is some emergency, I’ll handle it, and don’t forget I have a very grateful detective in my contact list.” Izuku handed Dabi the pill and a glass of water before turning to prep several syringes. “Phoenix, prep the surgical bay. You have control of the arms.”

“Roger that. The operating theater will be ready for surgery in t-minus two minutes.” Izuku nodded his head. He suspected that it wouldn’t take even that long for the sedative to kick into Dabi’s system.

“When is this going to ki-” Izuku glanced over just in time to see Dabi's faceplant into the table. Phoenix snorted and he smiled. He loved being right.

…

Izuku was placing Dabi into the tank that would be his home for the next week when Mei came in and caught sight of Dabi. She turned pale and immediately turned and started throwing up into the trash can. Izuku could sympathize. He wasn’t good with burnt flesh himself, and after he’d removed all of the third degree burn tissue, there had been less skin than exposed muscle. Besides that, he was an absolute god damn mess. His bottom lip at some point had been cut apart, as was apparent with the staples. But so had his masseter, depressor, and buccinator muscles, as well. Without the staples, the muscles around his mouth were just hanging from his face. Whoever had done his skin grafts was a god damn amateur and, were his nerve endings not all dead, he would have been in excruciating pain. As it was, Izuku wasn’t quite sure how Dabi was getting along as well as he did. That didn’t even include the other million issues he must have been having.

Izuku hooked the oxygen tube to the tracheostomy tube in Dabi’s neck and sealed the tank. After a moment, the tank filled with a translucent green slime, suspending him in the middle of it. Izuku shook his head. He had a pretty good idea of who had done that to him, and the thought didn’t please him. Just another reason for Endeavour to be on his sh*t list.

“Please. Please. Tell me that you didn’t have Phoenix call me over here to see that mess. What the f*ck happened to him? What the hell did you do to him?” Mei was still pale, but as her stomach had run out of contents, she was back on her feet.

“I didn’t do that to him, I simply removed his burnt skin and staples so he could heal, and no, obviously not.” Izuku walked over to a biological hazard bin and started stripping his surgical gear off while speaking. “I’m sorry about that, Mei. I didn’t expect you to be over here so soon. You were rather invested in your project when we left.”

Mei narrowed her eyes, concerned with the gaunt, haunted expression in his eyes. “Izuku… what time do you think it is right now?” Izuku looked up, curious as to Mei’s question and responded about elevenish by his estimation. She shook her head “Izuku you’ve been in there with him for almost six hours, not two.”

He jerked. “Well, f*ck. He was more screwed up than I thought. Or maybe I’ve gotten slower.” He gave a dark chuckle at that, and Mei eased down into a chair. “Regardless, I called you here for these.” He pulled two syringes from one of the cabinets and brought them over to Mei. One was a pressure syringe, and one was a normal syringe filled with something or another.

Izuku gestured for her to give him her arm. She narrowed her eyes but did. If there was one thing she was certain of, it's that he wouldn’t hurt her. Once he had completed the first injection, he placed the pressure syringe just below and behind her ear. With a hiss, the syringe deposited it's payload and left Mei thinking about how much she hated pressure syringes. “Mind telling me what those were now?”

Izuku nodded. “The first was a vaccine co*cktail if you will. That should cover almost every chemical and biological agent I know of that could be used in an attack.” Mei was giving him a weird look again, but he wasn’t about to let his partner go unprotected so it was what it was. “The second is actually the tiny device you’ve been helping me with the last couple days. I finished them up and they’re working now, so you get to, as you would put it, finally know what they are. If you tap the device, then you’ll figure it out pretty quickly.”

Mei continued staring at him, because who the hell was worried about chemical or biological attacks nowadays, but did as he asked and tapped the small disk now under her skin. There was a small click and then nothing. Wait. No. Not nothing. Her head dipped towards the ground as she struggled to think of what it was when she recognized the static. Mei’s head whipped up so quickly that Izuku was worried she might give herself whiplash.

“You crazy son of a bitch, you created a subdermal communicator? What’s the range? How did you condense the electronics that small? How. Just how?!” Izuku laughed now and gestured at her to tap it again. Once she had, and the device had turned off, he spoke.

“The range is theoretically infinite. While a normal model might have a limit of several tens of miles, yours, Dabi’s, and mine are all QEC tech and linked with Phoenix’s core. Which means that the four of us can communicate whenever the need should arise. If for some reason you have to turn it off, double-tap and hold for a second. It’ll go into standby until you repeat the sequence.”

Mei just stared at him. Then stared at him some more. Finally, she snapped out of her surprise and grabbed him by his shirt collar and shook him. “Are you telling me?! That you solved Quantum Entanglement Communication and DIDN’T tell me?!”

Izuku threw his hands up “No. No. Gah. NO. Stop shaking me please.” Once Mei had let go of him, Izuku started speaking. “I knew how to make these, is all. But that is literally all I knew how to do with the theory. When we get the time, you can have the blueprints for them and reverse engineer how it works. I am sure you’ll be able to figure it out.”

Mei huffed but agreed. He kept pulling things out of his hat with no explanation. It was driving her insane. “Fine. By the way, I finished the prototype for the grapple gauntlet. You want to test it in the ranges testing zone?”

…

“What if we tweaked this here and targeted the light itself? We could theoretically bend it around an electromagnetic field.”

“True, we could do that, but it would have to be perfect, else you would end up having what looks to be a mirage around the target.”

“Fair enough, but let's see if we can’t get a stationary model worked out before we try for a moving one.”

…

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying? We could do it, I mean. It would take us developing nanites to do it, but with Phoenix’s abilities, she could interface with them all to install the command net.”

“It’s worth a shot. Nanite plating would be interesting, but it might be better to just use them as an emergency weapon, you know? Set them to deactivate after a certain time and blast a target with the grey goop of doom.”

“Yeah, we’ll want to focus more on the weapon development with those, probably. What if we used the stuff you were working with the other day? Create some kind of regenerative biosteel?”

…

“What if we used some kind of STF or MR fluid? We could use those to create effective armor.”

“Fair enough, but I’ve no experience working with them so I’ve got no idea where to start with that. For now, I think we should stick with the carbon nanotube plates. They work as NIJ IV and are better than their steel variants.”

…

Consciousness came as a slow trickle at first. It was like he had gotten the best sleep he had ever gotten in his entire life. His muscles were relaxed, and for the first time in years, there wasn’t pain just for existing. When he had finally found the strength in him to open his eyes, he was confused at first. The only thing he could see, really, was green and a vague shape outside of that. The second thing he realized once his mind had clicked over was that whatever he was in was thick and slimy. When he tried to move, he found it slowed his movements with its sheer viscosity. There was a crackle, and a voice he recognized was suddenly in his head.

“Can you hear me in there, Dabi? Blink once for me if you can understand me.” He blinked once. Midoriya hadn’t mentioned he would wake up in a vat of slime. “Good. I’m sure you're confused right now, so I’ll explain what's going on. You were. Well, your body was in worse condition than I thought going into the operation. So instead of recovering in a bed, as I’m sure you expected, you're in a vat of biogel. What is biogel, you ask? Well, suffice it to say, it's an anesthetic and clotting gel. But the important part, in this case, is that it also seals against infection. That gel is what kept you nice and clinically clean while you healed. It's been six days, and you are awake slightly early. So before we get you out of there and get that tube out of your throat that's letting you breathe, let me just ask you a few questions to confirm you’re all there, mentally and we’ll get you out.

....

The gel was drained and the tube hissed as it repressurized. When Dabi went to step out, Izuku had to catch him, as his legs weren’t quite awake with the rest of him yet. Izuku removed the tube, leaving only a small incision where it had been. He wasn’t worried since, if everything had gone well, the incision would be healed in a little while.

When the tube was removed, he immediately started hacking and spitting out green goop up onto the floor from where it had seeped into his nasal passages during his time in the vat. Izuku patted his back, just letting him get it out. He only looked back down at Dabi when he felt the man freeze. His brain was finally catching up with what he was seeing, and he couldn’t believe it. His skin was normal. Normal. As in, it wasn’t singed and burnt anymore. It also wasn’t leaking fluid on him. He had hair on his arms again, and better yet, could feel his jaw again. He poked his lower lip with his tongue and found it to be intact. He looked up at Midoriya who was smiling down at him.

“Before you ask, yes, it's your skin, and yes, I will explain. You may want to sit in a chair for it, though. First off, the procedure was a complete success. That being said, due to the extensive nature of your injuries, I had to go a bit further than I would have liked. You're not entirely human anymore. Congratulations and welcome to the club.”

It took a moment for that bit of information to sink into his still mildly groggy brain. When he spoke, it came out in a croak. He figured that’s the result of a week without using his voice and a hole in his throat. “What do you mean by not entirely human? And what club?”

Izuku snorted, “First, if you’ve not caught it, I’m not exactly normal myself. The difference is, my lack of humanity is far more substantial than yours. I had to incorporate both Axolotl and Lobster DNA into your genome to help heal you. Overall, you should find yourself with everything we talked about before, a quirk that takes much more to harm yourself with, and a regeneration factor that rivals quirks that do the same thing.” For the first time in a while, Izuku looked up from Dabi’s medical reports and smirked. “Oh. I also made your natural hair color black. Should help.”

Chapter 13: Chapter #13 | A Light in the Dark

Chapter Text

When Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa sat down that night, there were a lot of things that he had expected. He had sent his partner home, since the feline needed his sleep. Naomasa, on the other hand, was far more used to no sleep than he was happy to admit, and there was plenty of paperwork to do. He had been procrastinating it worse lately. Working with Izuku was always enlightening, but it always, without exception, left him with a mountain of paperwork.

There were any number of things that Naomasa found strange about the young man, and there were plenty of inconsistencies with his behavior and his age. Besides that, the most startling thing about him was how much he knew. Anytime Naomasa came to him for help with something, Izuku already knew everything about the people in question or was able to get the information within the hour. Naomasa was incredibly glad that Izuku was on his side of the law because he honestly didn’t know if anyone would be able to stop him if he weren’t.

Naomasa set down his pen onto one of the million manila folders that were scattered across his desk. He leaned back, sighing, and closed his eyes. His left hand rubbed the slight bump in his right hand where the RFID chip for Moonlit Industries now rested. Why had he given him access to the facility? What had he seen coming that he might need it? And most concerning were the situations that he must have envisioned, knowing what he knows, if he had been driven to make his utterly illegal offer to a police detective.

Naomasa stood, stretching now, and stepped from his office. He needed coffee if he was going to stare at paperwork any longer tonight. He stepped to the sidebar that they kept in the bullpen and started to refill his mug when he looked up at the clock. Just past one in the morning. Should have enough time to finish a couple more files before I need to crash.

Naomasa rested his back against the counter to look out at the bullpen and the few officers that had gotten stuck with night duties. No one liked it, Naomasa included, but they all understood that what they did here was important. He was halfway back to his office with a second mug when he heard one of the officers' radios go off.

“One Charlie on the air, be advised you have a 110 call of shots fired at Moonlit Industries and the security alarms have been tripped. Any units available please respond.” He didn’t wait to hear if anyone was responding and was practically breaking down the door of the other detective that was in.

“Tanuma.” The man was already standing. They had worked together for a long time, and he had been slated to be Tsukauchi's partner before Detective Tamakawa had passed his detective exam. If he knew anything about Tsukauchi, it was that he didn’t get worked up like this easily. Something was very wrong. “How quickly can you get the SAT team out of bed and on the move?”

“If it's you calling for it? Give me ten minutes at most. What’s going on?” Naomasa looked sick and was already turning to leave as he responded.

“Shots fired at Moonlit Industries. Tanuma, this is going to be bad.” Tanuma knew Midoriya. He knew how smart the kid was because he had helped him before. He knew the kind of technology the kid and his partner were working on could change the world. He also knew that if there were reports of shots fired at their headquarters then, yes, Tsukauchi was right. It was going to be bad.

Naomasa rushed back to his office, pulling his sidearm from his desk drawer and slamming it into its holster. As he dragged on his coat, he pulled his phone and dialed the number of one of the few men he could trust with what would be an ugly situation. He started speaking the moment the line connected. “Eraser. We have a situation.”

…

The night had been too calm. Aizawa had been thinking that something was coming. Practically every part of his training had told him it was the calm before the storm. When he got the call from Tsukauchi, just past halfway into his patrol at one in the morning, he knew that he had been correct.

He was able to arrive quickly from where he was in his patrol, and if one thing was clear, it was already going to be a media sh*t storm. He hadn’t even gotten across the parking lot before he found three men on the ground. He tapped his communicator in his ear, linking him back to Tsukauchi.

“What was your ETA? sh*t's already bad. We’ve got three men in the parking lot that I have found. All dressed in full tactical gear and all three DOA. Tsukauchi, all three of these men have no-” Eraser was cut off when more gunshots went off in the reception and another man came flying out of the building through the plate glass window.

He was already moving to the main lobby when he caught movement in his peripheral. He turned and just managed to push the barrel of the rifle to the side when the man pulled the trigger. The gunshot was deafening and left his ears ringing, but he’d had worse. He managed to disarm the man of his rifle and scuffled for a bit before the man drew his knife. This was more Eraser’s wheelhouse, and he was quickly able to wrap the man's arm in his scarf, twisting it back and around his back. He was wrapping the rest of the man up and pinning him, getting ready to question him, when he heard the sound of boots scuffing the ground behind him.

Aizawa spun, ready to face the man who was pointing yet another gun at him, when the man suddenly jerked, went limp, and dropped onto his face. Behind him stood a very pissed Midoriya, staring down at the man's body coldly. Eraser barely had time to register the bloodied KaBar in Midoriya’s hand before he heard the sharp tink of metal on marble beside him.

There was a bright flash and a crack that Eraser recognized as a flash grenade. He hated them because they interfered with his ability to use his quirk. When his vision cleared enough that he could see, Midoriya wasn’t where he had been before. Instead, he was halfway across the room, snarling, with a man held up by his throat. Midoriya dropped the man and kicked him hard enough to send him flying into the wall opposite them. The man didn’t sit back up after he hit.

Aizawa was frozen because Midoriya's demeanor was different now. Where it had been cold before, now it was white-hot fury. The bloodlust that radiated off him made Aizawa's blood run like ice in his veins, and at that moment, he could have sworn Midoriya’s eyes were glowing in the dark reception. Midoriya huffed.

“I f*cking hate explosions. If you’re here, Eraser, I take it that the police are on the way?” Eraser nodded and responded that Tsukauchi was the one that had called him. Midoriya sighed and relaxed marginally. If, of course, you could call it that. He still looked ready to take on a small army. “Good. We’re going to need his connections to the SIT if we’re going to make it out of this clusterf*ck without an international incident.” He kicked one of the dead men's bodies and tapped his ear. “Dabi. Report.”

Aizawa decided that he must have a communicator with this Dabi person and took the moment to study Midoriya. The boy looked haggard, though he tried to look relaxed. He hid it well, Aizawa would admit. But the tension of combat was still in his lithe frame, and his eyes were darting around, looking for any threat. Midoriya grunted and nodded his head. “Alright. Hold position and keep an eye out until the police get here. There won’t be any more of them tonight, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful.”

…

It only took another three minutes for Tsukauchi to arrive, and only another two after that for the grounds of the headquarters to be swarming with SAT members in full gear. Within twenty of that, the media were behind the barricades clamoring for statements. Naomasa found Midoriya and Eraser in the reception with one man practically bound and gagged at their feet. Before he could even ask for it, Midoriya stood at attention and began reporting.

“At about zero fifty this morning, I was alerted by the security system that twelve unknown contacts were moving towards the facility. Taking the time into account, we made the assumption that they were hostile and moved accordingly. The facility went into lockdown and the alarm was tripped. All security systems were engaged, though went unused as they never made it deeper into the building.” Izuku shifted on his feet now. Naomasa signaled him to relax and he dropped out of his rigid posture.

“I covered the front while our head of security went to cover the rear loading bays, as those are the only other entrances beside the front reception. I will have Dabi make a full report to you, as well, Detective, but for now, let the record show that five of the contacts moved towards the rear while seven moved towards the front of the building. After a brief firefight, three of the now affirmed hostiles were eliminated. There was a struggle inside of reception where I eliminated another. At this point, Eraser showed up and restrained this one.” Izuku gestured to the still restrained, still gagged, and very pissy man tied up at their feet. “I severed the spinal cord of another that was about to fire on Eraser when the final tossed a flashbang.”

Naomasa tensed, knowing that flash weapons were one of Eraser's worst enemies due to his quirk. But at that moment, he was more concerned with what Izuku did following that. He knew that the kid had an issue with explosions. He’d seen the look in the kid's eyes before when he’d been in the field with them and other things like it had gone off. “What happened to him after that?” Naomasa asked the question quietly, and Izuku rubbed his face, gesturing to the bloody stain of a man against the wall.

He shook his head. He was dead the moment he threw that flash grenade. He commented that the man would have to be taken in for questioning and Midoriya shot him a hard look that Naomasa didn’t like. “There’s more to this, isn’t there?”

Midoriya nodded slowly and reached back behind the desk, pulling a disk from one of the cubicles there before handing it to Naomasa. "That contains all of the security footage from tonight, as well as their comm chatter. I hacked into the comms when they arrived.” Izuku fidgeted now with the strap on the holster of his sidearm. “Nao, they were speaking Russian. The way they moved? The fact they didn’t use their quirks? I’m guessing FSB.” The man at their feet stilled, practically confirming his suspicions.

It took only one look at the detective's face for Eraser to understand just how bad this was. It was when the detective suddenly said the word f*ck that Eraser realized it was far worse than he had thought. “Are you sure?” Naomasa was tense and practically praying that Izuku would say he was joking. He’d want to kill him for it, but it would be the preferable scenario here.

“I’m certain. Everything about it screamed operation.” Naomasa cursed again and turned, stating that he was going to call his contacts in the SIT. Eraser looked at his back for another moment before turning to Izuku.

“What’s going on here?” Izuku looked at him for a moment, weighing whether or not to fill him in on the full situation before deciding that if Naomasa had trusted him enough to call him into this, then he could trust him with the truth.

“They moved too well and their equipment was too good to be your average criminals. No gang or your average underground organization has the training these guys had. That was the first clue. The second was their number and their speaking Russian. Operational detachments are generally twelve members. But the most damning is that they didn’t use their quirks. The fifth addendum protocol added to the Geneva Convention, after the advent of quirks, effectively made quirk usage a war crime in combat. This didn’t explicitly outlaw the usage of quirks during non-wartime operations, but most countries didn’t want to tempt fate so they continued their training of operatives as if quirks never appeared.” Izuku shook his head. It was idiotic not to train a tool special to each person.

“Regardless, only a few of them started using their quirks, and only when they got desperate. Their training was so ingrained into them they didn’t even think to use their quirks. Effectively, what this all sums up to, Eraser, is that these guys are here in what I’m guessing is likely a sanctioned operation by their government. Like I said to Naomasa, I’m guessing FSB. If this isn’t handled very carefully, then we’re looking at an international incident of untold proportions. I don’t have to tell you how bad it would be if the world found out that Russian special forces led an assault on Japanese citizens on Japanese soil.”

Aizawa suddenly understood the cursing. He also had an entirely new appreciation for how scary this kid was. If he was correct, then he had taken on four special forces operatives before he had arrived and another two after he had gotten there. All without taking more than a couple scratches.

…

It had taken less than an hour after Naomasa made his call for the commissioner general to arrive on-site with a slew of black suits Izuku immediately pegged as the government. After the detective had gotten back and informed them that the commissioner-general was on his way, Izuku had excused himself to change and deal with his and his partner's mothers, who were practically trying to strangle the police on the barricade.

As such, when it came time to meet with the man, Izuku was already in one of the slim-cut black business suits that he reserved for formal events and meetings. He’d always liked suits. It was easy to conceal any number of weapons in them. And his shoulder holster worked much better when he could conceal it. Hatsume wasn’t quite wearing something as formal, but then again, she didn’t care nearly as much as he did for appearances. He couldn’t blame her, either. He’d had to learn how to blend in; she hadn’t. Izuku sat behind his desk now. Across from him sat a middle-aged man wearing a similar black business suit. His hair was a dark grey, giving a color gradient against his suit. His stern eyes stared into Izuku’s just as his own did back.

When he had arrived, he had stepped into his office and insisted that they speak alone. As Hatsume, Tsukauchi, and Eraserhead had been in his office with him at the time, he had informed him that anything he had to say could be said in front of them, as well as his business partner. He had resisted for a moment but sat instead of continuing an argument.

“Let me be the first to offer my condolences regarding this assault by such a vicious group of fanatics. We aren’t sure what they wanted yet, but we’re certain that whatever they were after, it is a good thing that they didn’t get into the facility to get it. While we aren’t certain what group they come from, we have a list of suspects and are expecting the Quirkless Resistance to claim credit for the attack. They likely wanted the weapons your company is developing. If anyone asks, that is as much as any of you know.” Midoriya narrowed his eyes and the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Naomasa felt a shiver run down his spine, and he wasn’t even the one Midoriya's gaze was pointed at. The commissioner had just made a massive mistake with his choice of a scapegoat.

“So that is what you're going with for the official story, eh?” Midoriya reached into his desk drawer and opened a manila folder, glancing down at what was in it. “Let me make something very clear, Commissioner. Don’t try to bullsh*t me. That line may work with the others who ask questions, but it won’t work with those of us that were involved in this clusterf*ck.” He slapped the folder down onto the desk and spun it around for the man to see. “The man we have out there tied up is one Malik Kurbanov. As I suspected, he’s FSB. I also have, and have read through, the unredacted files for the other eleven members of his unit.” Midoriya snapped the folder shut and tossed it to the other side of his desk for the commissioner to peruse.

“I was the one that wanted you contacted so this didn’t escalate. I was the one who identified the men as what they were, and it was also me that was willing to go along with whatever bullsh*t excuse you all cooked up when I went to give an interview to the media later.” The commissioner tried to put his hand up and cut off Midoriya.

“Shut up, Commissioner. I had been willing to go along with the politics and cover-up because I know full well the absolute disaster this could turn into if it is found out that twelve Russian agents tried to kill and or kidnap Japanese citizens on Japanese soil, all for the technology in their heads. But in no way am I going to let you make the lives of the quirkless any more miserable than they already are.” The commissioner had gone rigid in his seat at the command and underlying fury in Midoriya’s voice.

“So here is what is going to happen. I am going to give my statement later that a group of fanatical nationalists tried to break into the facility with their weapons and quirks. They were repelled and the government is on the case. If for some reason you don’t like this statement? Deal with it. You pissed on my good graces when you chose to blame the quirkless.” Izuku pulled the other eleven files, still in a tied bundle, and set them in front of the man. The commissioner was openly glaring at Izuku.

“Young man, you should show more respect to your elders. We do not take orders from children. Even if you are a bit smart. What? You want to protect some poor group of people who are already despised?” Naomasa could see the twitch starting under Izuku’s right eye. A clear sign that he was starting to get annoyed. The commissioner could be both rude and cynical, but he had never, until this moment, thought of the man as stupid. He hadn’t been in the field for too long, clearly, if he couldn’t see the value of the information Izuku had just placed in front of him, or see that, if he had been able to get that within the hour it took for him to get here, then it was not a kid in front of him.

Izuku smiled now as he leaned into the commissioner's face. It was a cold, biting smile that took the breath from everyone in the room and made Aizawa instinctively reach for his scarf. “You don’t have to like me, sir. But you are going to damn well respect me. I am not giving you an order. I am simply telling you that if you do not want two conflicting accounts bringing suspicion upon you, then you’ll rethink your scapegoat. Now get the f*ck out of my office.” Only after the man had rigidly stood and practically stomped out of the room did Izuku sit back down and sigh heavily. Mei chimed in with a muttered, "well that could have gone better."

“Sorry, Nao. I just made your life a whole lot harder, didn’t I?” He gestured to the twelve folders still resting on the desk. “You may as well take those. I already went through the trouble of getting them.” The detective set his hand on the files and briefly considered his words.

“You did, but frankly I think he deserved that one. He was out of line. Just because something is easy doesn’t mean it should be done. Besides, I’ll consider these to be repayment. Having these files is going to save a lot of work.”

…

The interview had been going well. He had agreed last night to come into the station and give a full interview regarding the events, because generally new companies aren’t assaulted by teams of armed assailants. Frankly, it was also a good chance to spread their name. Never let it be said that Izuku was one to pass up free advertising. Initially, it had gone well, all questions he had expected, and to the shock of the reporter, he fielded them like a professional.

It had started to slide sideways, though, when the reporter kept bringing the topic back to what the evil quirks of the villains had been. Either the reporter had been looking for him to say that they hadn’t used any, or she had been looking for a reason to bump her ratings with talk of villains and evil quirks. So either the commissioner hadn’t let it go as he should have, or society was far more focused on the villain and quirk part of the crime than the crime itself. When he stopped and thought about it, he decided it was the latter. Finally, after the third time the reporter brought the topic back to their quirks, Izuku sighed.

“With all due respect, Ma’am? It doesn’t matter. You’re looking for something that, in the end, is irrelevant. It doesn’t change what happened, how it happened, or why it happened. You are mistaking quirks for superpowers and making these men out to be villains. They aren’t. They are people, the same as you or me, and they are dead. That should be lamented as much as the attack. A quirk isn’t a superpower. It is a tool. There are no good, bad, or villainous quirks. It is a tool, and it is how we decide to use it that matters.”

Izuku pulled his sidearm from inside his suit jacket and set it down on the table between the reporter and himself. “I have set down a gun in between us. Is it going to get up and shoot you?”

“Well, of course not, but that isn't-” Izuku shook his head and cut her off, waving his hand.

“But isn’t that exactly it? It isn’t going to harm you, because it is a tool. If a gun shoots someone, we hold the person responsible for pulling the trigger. So why are you acting like the assailants' quirks had anything to do with the assault on Moonlit Industries early this morning? Their quirks were nothing more than tools they utilized during the attack. The attack is the story. Focus on that, please.

…

Elsewhere, curled up in a corner, attempting to make herself as small as possible, sat a girl watching the news station. She hadn’t meant to bite her sister. She had just smelled so good, but her parents didn’t see it that way. They had beat her and called her evil. The little spawn of the devil.

So there she sat, her body hurting all over from the blows, and watched what they had left on because she was too afraid to get up and change it. Too afraid that doing so may bring the blows back down onto her again. That was when the boy on the screen said something that made her want to cry. “There are no good, bad, or villainous quirks.”

That’s a lie. I’m nothing more than the spawn of the devil. I’m a villain and always will be because of this damned quirk I was born with. But still, she watched. She couldn’t take her eyes off the screen because this boy that couldn’t be any older than she was, was on the screen. Was saying what she had wanted to hear someone tell her for so long. Then he pulled a gun from his jacket and it shocked her. Why would he carry something like that?

“I have set down a gun in between us. Is it going to get up and shoot you?” She instinctively shook her head and the reporter did the same. Before the reporter could respond, though, the boy continued speaking.

“But isn’t that exactly it? It isn’t going to harm you, because it is a tool. If a gun shoots someone, we hold the person responsible for pulling the trigger. So why are you acting like the assailants' quirks had anything to do with the assault on Moonlit Industries early this morning? Their quirks were nothing more than tools they utilized during the attack. The attack is the story. Focus on that, please. “

“Midoriya Izuku… Moonlit Industries…” She muttered the names under her breath as she read them from the bottom of the television. She didn’t want to live like this anymore. She didn’t want to be evil. She wanted what she could do to be a tool. Wanted to think of it as a tool. Not some devil's ability. For the first time in years, she felt a fire she hadn’t known she could still feel, and when her family got home that night? She was nowhere to be found.

Chapter 14: Chapter #14 | Changelings Oath

Chapter Text

Izuku leaned back into his seat and stared at the ceiling of the bio suite. He’d been stuck dealing with the fallout of the attack for the last two days. Meetings, into information gathering, into more meetings. He was learning that he really hated bureaucrats, even if they had their use. The silver lining was that he’d gotten out of it without anyone any wiser as to what they were doing, and since the last of those meetings had finished up that morning, unless the powers that be tried to pull something that caused him to be dragged back into it, this was now an issue for them to deal with.

“Phoenix, what is the status on projects MSIS, Icarus, and MG?” It took only a moment for the soft female voice to chime in from the aether. It was good to be working again.

“Mei finished the final implants for project MSIS this morning. The last of the parts for Icarus came in last night and await you in hangar bay one. The prototype parts for MG have finished printing and await your assembly.” Izuku stretched, standing. If the implants were finished for MSIS then he would go pick them up from the workshop and start getting them prepped for surgery. It also gave him a chance to check in on Mei. She said she was alright with what happened, but Izuku knew better than most how easily that could change without warning.

He was just passing by the common area and was almost to the weapons suite when he heard his communicator crackle to life. “Uh, Midoriya. You have a visitor. It’s a. Actually, I don’t know what it is. It looks like a giant mouse. It’s uh. It’s talking to me.” Midoriya actually couldn’t help but snort when he heard the confusion in Dabi’s voice. To be fair to him, though, if Izuku hadn’t known someone fitting that exact description, then he would likely be just as confused.

Izuku reached up and tapped the communicator under his own ear and responded, a bit of the chuckle still lilting his voice. “Alright, Dabi, I’ll be down in just a moment. Show him to my office please.” Izuku stepped through the door to the forge and found Hatsume face down, asleep, in a pile of components. He sighed, pulling Mei up and picking chipsets off of her face. Putting them on the table, he picked her up in his arms. Izuku decided to set her on the couch in the common room before heading down to meet with his guest. If she finally crashed, then she at least deserved to wake up without back and neck pain.

Mei curled into him, resting her head against his body while he carried her. She snuggled into him like she had wanted to for a while, even if Izuku didn’t know it. When he’d finally gotten to the couch, he tried to deposit her, only to frown when she whimpered and held on. No, Izuku thought, she wasn’t alright at all.

…

“I’m rather sorry about the wait.” Izuku gave a smile as he entered his office. “My partner fell asleep in the forge. I wanted to move her so she’d sleep a bit better than she would on a circuit board.” Izuku circled around his desk, pulling his chair out and sitting down, before crossing his hands in front of him and giving his guest a small business smile. “To what do I deserve the honor of a visit, President Nedzu?”

“Am I a mouse? A dog? A bear? Who knows? But you are correct! I’m Nedzu, president of UA University. I have heard a lot about you from several mutual acquaintances of ours. I must say, you’ve made quite the impression on two of the heroes working for me.”

The president was a stout creature that many might consider cute. He had a head that was mostly mouse. The scar, prominent over his right eye, was the only feature that stood out on his face. But his muzzle was slightly too long, hiding the sharp teeth of a predator, his paws a little too large for a mouse, his fur a little too dense, and his eyes showed intelligence, not unlike his own. He set Midoriya on edge with how civilized he was behaving. He looked entirely too much like the Nightwalkers that had stalked through the forests, hunting the innocent people who had tried to escape, for Izuku to be drawn in by his cute, fluffy demeanor. “I came here today to see for myself what Snipe and Eraserhead have been going on about. Besides that, I have a request of Moonlit Industries.”

Izuku tried his best to keep his smile on his face as he responded. “I must admit, I’m not certain as to what I’ve done to catch the attention of the top strategic hero in Japan. As far as a request of our company, we’ll certainly do our best to accommodate whatever you need.”

“Now, now, there is no need to be modest. It doesn’t suit people like us.” Nedzu smiled, showing the sharp incisors and canines hiding in his mouth. Izuku felt a chill run down his spine as the memories of packs of Nightwalkers came unbidden to his mind. “You are sixteen and have completed two doctoral degrees, plus you are working on two more. And if that wasn’t enough, you plan on getting a hero license according to my two professors. You shoot as well as a professional hero, something that he is still confused over. Besides, if that wasn’t impressive enough, from what I’ve heard from Eraser, you are also more than able to hold your own in crisis situations.”

Izuku narrowed his eyes. He’d had quite enough with the compliment and preen in these last two days dealing with the politicians and bureaucrats, but that wasn’t what this was. “Where are you going with this, sir? From my knowledge, senseless compliments aren’t your style.”

Nedzu’s smile widened now into a hungry one. “Quite right you are, and straight to the point, which I like. Not enough of that, if you ask me. There is a time and place for small talk, after all. The fact of the matter is that, without attending one of the institutions dedicated to training heroes and support technicians, neither you nor your partner will be able to get your respective licenses. It is a requirement for a reason, after all. We wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt in the field from inexperience. The issue lies in the fact that if you attend any normal institution, you’ll quickly find yourself repeating much of what I’m quite sure you already know.”

Izuku leaned back, now nodding. “And with the discretion afforded to one of the top hero schools in the world, you're proposing I attend U.A. University. Am I correct?”

“Quite right. However, I would like to offer you now a position as my personal student in two years. I have no doubt that you’ll get into the hero program if you’ve caught Aizawa’s attention. You’ll be able to learn at an accelerated rate in courses that you wouldn’t normally be offered. Besides that, it would also offer you the chance to double up as a support course student, as well. You’d be able to get that license at the same time.”

Izuku nodded. Everything that he’d said made sense, and it was a good offer. “I’ll keep the offer in mind when it comes time to choose a hero institution. I’m sure the offer will still be on the table. After all, having Mei and myself as alumni will certainly look good, won’t it?” If anyone had entered the room at that moment, they would have found two individuals with a maniacal glint in their eyes and a smile to match. They both laughed before moving on.

“As I said, I also have a request for your company. I have one particular student with a quirk that has a certain peculiarity to it that desperately needs solving. Togata Mirio.” Nedzu said his name with a tinge of pain in his tone and a wince.

Izuku couldn’t help but snort. “Ah yes, this year's sports festival is coming up, isn’t it? What, don't you want your first-year hero student stripping naked for the entire world on international television?” Izuku got the pleasure of seeing Nedzu jerk in surprise. “Oh, don’t give me that look. I have my ways of finding out things just as you do.” Though it always helped to have Phoenix feeding him details through his comm.

Nedzu cleared his throat before confirming that was indeed the issue he was speaking of. Izuku nodded, understanding why. “Send him over at his earliest convenience and we’ll take a look. The worst-case scenario is that it takes us a bit, but we’ll figure it out.”

…

Aizawa dropped down to the alleyway from where he had been on the roof. Nedzu had brought him and Snipe along to keep watch from across the road, though that ended up being just an extra precaution. Especially since the moment Nedzu had entered the building, their head of security had smiled straight at their nest atop the building across the road. Snipe packed away his rifle, and they both slipped back into their car before picking Nedzu up from the front of the building. Aizawa spoke first when Nedzu had clipped himself into his seat. “So, how’d it go?” Nedzu slowly nodded his head.

“I would say that we came to an… understanding is the word I’ll use. Likely, we’ll see those two as our students in two years. As for the other reason for this visit… You know how I refrain from showing my teeth, yes?” Aizawa nodded his head and Snipe shuddered.

“Yes, it’s damn creepy, sir. No mouse ah ever seen has had razor-sharp teeth.” Nedzu chuckled before nodding his head.

“Exactly why I don’t show them. I find that humans don’t respond well to them. I did smile at Mr. Midoriya back there and caught what you were talking about. It was only for a moment when I showed my teeth, but you are quite right. That is no mere boy. I’ve not felt pressure like that in a very long time. If I’d threatened him at that moment, I would have been dead before I could get across the desk.” Nedzu felt a chill go down his spine and a sense of thrill.

Much to the dismay of the two in the front, Nedzu smiled and laughed. A maniacal smile and crazed sound that made the two heroes with him look at each other in worry. Oh yes, he would enjoy their time together.

…

Midoriya sighed now that the giant mouse-bear-thing was gone and out of his building. There was no question in his mind that he would have some bad moments if he became Nedzu’s personal student. He smirked, though, because he knew the man was just as crazy as he was. It doesn’t suit people like us. If that wasn’t a double meaning, then I don’t know what is.

Izuku glanced up from where he had taken a seat in reception to collect his thoughts after that encounter and laughed. Across the parking lot strowed one Togata Mirio. The damn rat had absolutely planned on him saying yes if he’d had the student on standby outside. Togata stopped outside the glass doors and waved to Izuku sitting at the front desk. We really need to hire a receptionist.

Pressing a button under the desk and letting Togata in, he smiled and leaned forward again. “I suppose your president is quite good at predicting the flow of a conversation. Let’s deal with your stripping habit, shall we?” Mirio blushed and scratched his head.

“Let's. I may be used to accidentally flashing people, but it doesn’t mean they are used to it. And if it makes sense, I don’t particularly want to end up naked on television.”

…

Hatsume woke up to the feeling of plush fabric under her and soft warmth above her. She groaned and stretched, rubbing her eyes and scratching her head. How had she got here? Last thing she remembered, she was soldering chipsets for project MG. If they could complete that, it could completely change how heroes maneuvered around terrain. Especially if they combined it with the neural link they had designed for MSIS.

As if anticipating her question, Phoenix chimed in. “Izuku carried you here after he found you face down in your project. It appears that you crashed again.” Mei nearly jumped through the roof. Not that she wasn’t used to Phoenix chiming in, but sudden sounds had been getting to her lately. I’m probably just overworked. Maybe I should take Izu’s advice and take a break for a bit. “Phoenix, where is Izuku right now?”

“He is currently in the bio suite running tests on a Togata Mirio. He agreed to do so after a visit from President Nedzu of U.A University around noon. Mr. Togata evidently has had an issue with his quirk, wherein it tends to render him nude. Which, as I understand, is an undesirable outcome in hero work.”

Mei simply shook her head. That would be problematic in anyone's line of work, much less a hero. She tapped her comm, connecting to Izuku’s. “Hey, Izuku. I’m on the way over to you. I might be able to help with the Togata situation. Thanks for putting me on the couch, by the way. I feel much better.”

When she did step into the bio suite, she found a very confused Midoriya staring at a half-naked man, who was by all accounts trying to act bashful. Midoriya glanced back when he heard the security door hiss and started to talk to her as she approached the sensor station he was working at. “I don’t get it. I’ve run every test that I could conceivably run. There is no reason he should be able to pass through things. My last theory was that he was vibrating his molecules at the right frequency to slip between the empty space between the material's molecules. But no, his cells aren’t vibrating in the slightest.”

Mei quirked her eyebrows at that. “If you’re pulling inspiration from twentieth-century comic books, you’ve really hit a wall here.”

Izuku snorted. “Don’t I know it. If you’ve got any ideas, I’m open to them. From what he’s told me, even those fancy suits made of someone's own DNA didn’t work for him.”

Mirio was standing awkwardly in the sensor tube now. Having one person staring at him had been mildly embarrassing, but it was two now and one of them was female. Though, he supposed, it did help, oddly, that she was looking at him like she wanted to dissect him more than anything else.

Suddenly, after several tense moments of staring, her eyes popped wide. “Izuku, what if the reason all of you have been having an issue figuring out how his quirk works is because it isn’t something biological?” Izuku scrunched his eyebrows at her.

“In what way? I mean, stranger things have happened before with quirks. What are you thinking?”

“What if the reason he’s able to pass through solid objects is because it’s happening at an even smaller level than cellular? What if the reason you aren’t finding it is that it's in my wheelhouse? What if he’s subconsciously QT’ing through objects?”

Now it was Izuku’s turn for his eyes to blow wide. “You think he’s quantum tunneling through objects? I mean it's possible but… no, it's more than possible. Togata.” Izuku turned now to the man still in the sensor tube and directed his question at him. “Earlier, when you told me about coming out of objects, does it ever feel like you're picking up speed? Like you’re getting forced out of the material?”

Finally, it was Mirio’s turn for his brows to shoot up. “Why, yes. How did you know?” Rather than answer, Izuku turned back to Mei.

“You have the tools to measure that in the forge, right?” Mei nodded and Izuku got up to let Togata out of the sensor tube.

…

It was getting late in the day, and Dabi was debating handing over security to Phoenix. It had been an interesting day, he decided. Midoriya nearly killed some politicians during his meeting with the Japanese officials and Russian Consulate. Of course, that second half was off the record. Then he had gotten to see a talking animal. Though the sniper across the road had been a tad bit unsettling, he had faith the UL 752 Level 10 glass would do its job if they decided it was a good idea to pull that trigger.

That was why, when a scraggly looking blond girl that looked like she had been living on the streets for several years started beating on the front doors, Dabi wished he could say that it was out of the norm around here. He would willingly admit to anyone that asked that he had thought this would be a more normal job than his last one. He had been very wrong.

The silver lining, he supposed, was that he could now use his quirk without feeling like he was dying, though he was still getting used to being able to feel things again. The first time he had stubbed his toe on his sideboard had been a rude awakening. Dabi leaned forward to the microphone that sat as part of the security console in his office. Pressing the button for the front intercom, he thought they really needed to hire a receptionist soon.

“This is private property, miss. Can we help you?” Through the overhead camera, Dabi could see the girl jerk and look around before her eyes finally settled on the intercom next to the door.

“Yes. Yes please.” The girl sounded desperate, setting off alarms in Dabi’s head. “I need to speak with Midoriya Izuku, please.” The day just keeps getting stranger.

…

“Amazing, this is absolutely fascinating. Do you know the things we could do if we could replicate his quirk, Izuku? The babies we could make…” Hatsume trailed off, voice practically purring at the idea. Mirio didn’t look quite as enthused as she was.

“Does this mean that you’ll be able to make me something that won’t come off when I use my quirk?” Mei looked up at him, waving her hand as if dismissing the question.

“Oh yes, that shouldn’t be an issue. We’ll need to study how exactly your quirk functions, but after that, we should be able to put together some kind of material using your DNA as a mediator to mimic your quirk and yada yada. Yes, we’ll be able to do it. But think just how much.” Mei cut herself off when she saw Izuku with his head down, frowning, with his index and middle fingers on his communicator. “What is it?”

“Dabi says that I have another guest. Guess I’m popular today. I’ll be back. You go ahead and get the rest of the data we need. Togata, come up with a design for your outfit. You’ll need two. A casual set of clothing and a costume. You're going to be a hero and not a circus performer, so for the love of the gods, prioritize function over form.”

…

The first thing Izuku noticed was the girl's sunken, bloodshot eyes. Her gaunt expression hung on her like what little flesh she had on her bones. Her pale, practically white skin was painted in the sickly hue of bruising. But it was when she stumbled, trying to stand for him, that he saw what he didn’t want to remember. Izuku breathed through his teeth, desperately pushing down the memories of reeducation camps and broken people.

Dabi had caught her when she stumbled and now looked Izuku in the eyes. The sickening fury that lived there was reflected in his own. Izuku was practically growling when he spoke to his head of security, his singular word biting out, “Report.”

Dabi nodded and recited what had happened. That the girl had been banging on the front doors, practically begging to speak with him. Dabi had initially just thought it to be another weird visitor for him. That opinion had changed quickly when he stepped into the lobby to meet the girl.

Izuku crouched down in front of the girl and spoke, doing his best to keep his tone gentle. “Hey there. My name is Midoriya Izuku. I heard that you were asking for me. How can I help you?”

The girl met Midoriya’s gaze and the fear and desperation in her eyes made him sick. “What you said on the TV, was that true? You won’t judge someone for their quirk?” Izuku nodded slowly. He was most certainly not going to judge someone based on something they couldn't help but be born with.

The tears that leaked from the corners of her eyes hurt Izuku. No one should have such a reaction just for not being judged. “Please help me. Please, I didn’t know what else to do, where else to go.” Izuku did his best to calm her down and to coax more information out of her. Her name was Toga Himiko, and she was the same age as him and Mei. Though you would never know it with how small she was. She was barely five two, and if he had to guess, maybe sixty-five pounds soaking wet.

“Have you been living on the streets?” Izuku had to ask, because he was praying that was the case. The alternative was far worse.

Toga shook her head, and he felt his heart drop. “I’ve always lived at home with my family, though I’m not really allowed to do much. They call me a demon because of my quirk. Say that I’m evil.” Her voice hitched, and Izuku felt the need to strangle her idiotic parents. He asked what her quirk was, and she jerked before curling in on herself. He cursed in her head and was getting ready to shift the subject when he heard her whisper.

“I can turn into other people if I taste their blood.” Of all the things Izuku had expected, that was as far from his thoughts as possible. That was an amazing quirk! What he would have given to have had that ability even a handful of times. Then a terrible thought crossed his mind, and his heart sank further.

“Toga, were you ever allowed to drink blood at your home?” She jerked again, and he felt his fear validated.

“No no no.” There was panic now in her tone, and she curled further in on herself. “If I drink blood, I get beat and dad starts yelling. I don’t want that to happen, so I avoid drinking blood.” Izuku could feel Dabi’s gaze searing into the back of his head in an emotion of pure rage. Something that, at the moment, he could relate to rather well.

Izuku whispered now to Dabi so that he was the only one that could hear him. “Keep an eye on her. I need to make some calls.” Izuku spun around and took several steps towards the back of reception before tapping his communicator. “Mei, drop what you're doing. I need you down here asap, and bring my medical kit with you.” He didn’t wait to hear her response before he was dragging out his phone.

When the line connected, he simply said, “Nao, I need you here at Moonlit Industries as soon as you can get here. Something’s come up.” Tsukauchi could hear the fury in his voice and agreed to be down there in a few minutes. When he hung up, Izuku made one more call. Mei stepped into the lobby with his bag, and he put a finger up in a gesture of one moment.

“Mom, sorry to call you at work, but I’m going to need you over at the company building as soon as you can. I’ll explain when you get here. Yes. Thanks, I love you too.” Izuku put his phone in his pocket before turning back to Mei to get his bag. Her pale face told him all he needed to know about what she was thinking. “Yeah, I know.”

Walking back over to Himiko, he coaxed her into letting him draw some blood. Taking the vial, he returned to Mei before handing it to her. “Could you go run a CBC, CMP, and iron test for me? You know the machine, yeah?” She nodded, eyes hard.

“Izuku? Get the bastards.” She walked back through the doors leading into the facility while Naomasa and his partner stepped through the front. Izuku walked over to them and shook hands with them both.

“It's good to see you again, Tamakawa. I’d love to catch up, but I’ve got a more pressing issue at the moment.” Tamakawa nodded, acknowledging the fact that this wasn’t the time. Naomasa, in the meantime, had been taking in the room, and upon seeing Dabi coddling the skeleton of a girl in the corner on a couch, snapped his eyes back to Izuku.

“Unfortunately, yes, she’s what I called you about. I need you to verify what she’s been telling me. And if what I suspect comes back true, you may just have a case for attempted murder with child abuse.”

…

When Mei came back to the lobby carrying the results of the blood panel, as well as a bag of O blood, she was immediately struck by the look of righteous fury that was on Inko’s face. When the woman had gotten there, she didn’t know, but she certainly didn’t want to be the one to mess with the woman right now. The serious look on the detective's face and the murderous one on Dabi’s told her that the conversation hadn’t been pleasant.

She whispered Izuku’s name and handed him the paper. “You were right, if I’m reading the test results properly.” Izuku only took a moment to see exactly what he had been worried about. Her insulin levels, prealbumin, vitamins A, D, B, and leptin levels were all utterly f*cked. He thanked Mei and took the chilled bag of his blood from her before turning back to the group in the seating area.

“Well congrats, Nao. This has gotten even more f*cked up. Here, drink this.” He tossed the bag of blood onto Himiko’s lap, making her jump. She tried to shake her head and refuse, that ingrained fear putting her back up. He decided he would need to nip that in the bud. “No, don’t argue. These are the results of the blood tests I just had done for you. You have almost every marker of malnutrition, bordering on starvation. Some quirks require specialized diets. That is just a part of their lives, and they live with it. Your quirk is evidently one of them. Normal food is giving you barely enough nutrients to keep you alive. Mom, make sure she drinks it before it kills her.”

Izuku shook his head and turned, trusting his mother to be able to deal with the situation. He knew no one better to look after the poor girl while he was dealing with what needed to be done. He may be biased on that, but in this case, it was the truth. He tapped Tsukauchi on the arm to pull him away from the group before speaking to him and his partner who had followed. “I need you both to come with me in a moment after I get some paperwork out of my desk.”

Tsukauchi had no issues doing so, but felt wary and asked him why and where they were going. The hard glint in his eyes made Tamakawa’s fur fluff up and Naomasa feel uneasy. “I’m going to go deal with her parents, and to put it simply? I need you there to keep me from doing something you’ll have to arrest me for.”

…

Izuku stepped to the side of his motorcycle and placed his helmet on the seat. It was a sleek thing. All black and streamlined to provide minimal bulk with maximum power. It was refined enough that if Izuku had had to, he could have carried it with him. He didn’t have any plans to be here any longer than necessary and had no issue leaving his helmet with it. Though, in this area, the sleek leather jacket that he wore over his holster stood out as much as the bike. Tsukauchi and Tamakawa stepped out of their nondescript vehicle and stepped up beside him.

It took the three only a moment to make their way to the door of the family home, and only a moment for the aforementioned family to answer the door. The man that answered was a thin man wearing what looked like a cardigan and slacks. “Yes, hello. What can I do for you folks?”

Izuku decided that if he wanted to start polite, then that suited him fine. He put on his best business smile before speaking. “Hello. My name is Midoriya Izuku. I am one of the two CEO’s of Moonlit Industries, and my two associates here are detectives Tamakawa and Tsukauchi. May we come in for a moment to speak with you?”

The man was understandably startled but allowed them in, anyway. What did the CEO of a major company and two police detectives want with his family, after all? He took them to their living room, took a seat, offered them refreshments, the whole nine yards, clearly not knowing what this was about.

Izuku noted several things about the house once they were in, as he was sure the detectives did, as well. The first thing that he noticed was that the family was clearly religious in a traditional sense of the word. Everything was clean, whitewashed practically. There was at least one cross in every room of the house that they had been in thus far, and when the man had offered them refreshments, he had made motions as if he’d have his wife bring them in for them.

“You have a wonderful home here, Mr. Toga. Is your family all home?”

The man nodded and preened at the praise. "I do indeed, don’t I? My wife and daughter are home with me right now."

Izuku kept the smile on his face, even if he could feel it practically begging to come off. “Oh? I was under the impression you had two daughters, Mr. Toga.” The man froze, the easy smile dropping off his face. He openly glared at Izuku now.

“I’m sorry, you must be mistaken. I only have one daughter, and she’s in the kitchen with my wife.” Naomasa glared back at the man before speaking himself.

“And that was a lie. I would advise that you start telling the truth before you dig yourself a hole you can’t crawl out of.” Izuku couldn’t help the quirking of his eyebrow. This must have gotten to Tsukauchi as much as it had the rest of them if he was using such forceful wording.

“No. As I said, I only have the one daughter. Now I think you all should leave.” Izuku shook his head, practically purring with malice. His smile turned from business to one that was razor sharp.

“Oh no, Mr. Toga, I don’t think we’ll be going anywhere quite yet.” He pulled a packet of papers out of his inner jacket pocket and slapped them down on the coffee table in front of him. “You see, I have a poor girl in my facility right now that looks like she’s been through hell because of you and your family. You will be signing these papers that I had drawn up by our lawyer. As of the moment you sign those papers, Toga Himiko will be a ward of Moonlit Industries. You will cease all contact with her, and you’ll have nothing more to do with her.”

The man sneered now. “What? The devil has come to take the demon back into his fold? The only place that thing belongs is chained back up. You can’t make me sign anything, and I demand you return it.”

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Where Izuku had been polite before that had gone out the window and, although the two detectives came along to stop Izuku from going too far, they had no intention of stopping what was coming. Izuku growled at the man. “Oh, you have no idea of what I’m capable of. I don’t have to make you do anything. I can spend the rest of your life making you as miserable as possible, and in the end, you still won’t win on this topic. I am allowing you to sign these papers as a courtesy. Last chance. Sign the papers and walk away.”

The man blanched and grabbed the pen, signing and all but throwing the papers back at Izuku. “Fine. There, it's done. Take the demon. We don’t want her. Get out of my house.” The man's voice pitched up the longer he spoke. By the time he was done, he was entering the territory of shrill, something that his wife and daughter had noticed from the kitchen and had come to investigate. Izuku looked down when he felt a pull at the leg of his jeans.

There stood a little girl, no more than seven or eight in age. All blond hair and golden eyes like her big sister, but in this case, she hadn’t had her face marred from years of abuse and starvation. “Are you taking big sis’ away? I don’t want her to go. She’s always nice to me.” Izuku’s smile softened, and he was about to speak when the father piped up once again.

“Hiromi, get away from him. For the last time, that thing isn’t your sister. It's a demon sent to ruin us.” The little girl puffed up her cheeks and held onto Izuku’s pants leg a little tighter.

“Big sis’ isn’t a demon. She’s just hungry. She can’t help that.” Naomasa exchanged one look with his partner before kneeling down in front of the little girl. He gave her a big smile. He’d always had a soft spot for kids.

“Hey there, I’m Detective Tsukauchi. I'm with the police. Would you like to go see your big sister?” The girl let go of Izuku’s pant leg and started jumping up and down, excited. He had his partner take her out to wait by Izuku’s motorcycle before turning back to the couple screaming at him.

“Shut up. Quite contrary to your belief, I’m well within my authority to do this. You’ve abandoned and abused one child, which calls for the other to be removed from your care.” Naomasa pulled two sets of cuffs from his coat pocket and moved towards the two parents. The mother seemed sadly resigned to her fate. The father, of course, put up a fight. “You're both under arrest for child abuse, criminal negligence, and other charges that will be presented to you at a later time. Izuku, take little Hiromi to see her big sister. Tamakawa and I will be by after we’ve dealt with these two.”

Izuku nodded and stepped outside to where Tamakawa was waiting for him with the little girl. He bit back laughter when he saw Tamakawa handing him a small bike helmet that he had fished out of the trunk of their car. They both shrugged. It was better than nothing. As Tamakawa went back inside to aid his partner in dragging the two to the police cruiser, Izuku plopped the helmet on Hiromi’s head and said the words that made her beam with a big smile.

“Let’s go see your big sis, shall we?”

Chapter 15: Chapter #15 | Changelings Sanctuary

Chapter Text

It took mere minutes for Izuku to hit the main roads again on his bike. He had placed his black leather coat around the girl as the February chill in the air got biting at highway speeds without it. Little Hiromi had, at first, been terrified of riding on the bike. That wasn’t terribly shocking, Izuku thought. Not many people in this day and age used motorbikes in Japan.

The turn of the twenty-first had seen traffic so congested that the government at the time had implemented a million and one traffic laws to thin the number of cars and car owners out. Nowadays, the vast majority of the laws were either defunct or obsolete. Many of the ones that were still valid were barely even observed. It worked still, only because society had shifted away from personal vehicles and towards bicycles and public transportation. It was seen as something unnecessary for individuals, and the only time it wasn’t a luxury was if it was relevant for someone's job, or the vehicle was a company vehicle with a purpose.

All of this resulted in traffic being far less than one would expect from the population size of Japan and once Izuku had hit the expressway, he was able to get up to a speed that would see them back at Moonlit Industries in no time. Hiromi had left her fear behind, as children tended to when they realized they weren’t in danger, and watched the world zip by them at their accelerated pace with large, fascinated gold eyes.

Japan, of course, wasn’t the only country that went through these changes. Much of the original European Union went through the same changes over the last several hundred years. Meanwhile, several major countries had been incredibly slow on the uptake and still suffered from all kinds of logistical nightmares. When Izuku zipped down the off-ramp, he thought of how I-Island had just managed to avoid that fate with the Reunited States as the chief force behind the island's development. As he turned into the parking lot of home and made his way to his parking space next to the front door, Izuku was simply glad Japan had worked so hard on their infrastructure following the dawn of quirks, and the violence that followed.

“Well, Hiromi, your big sister is inside. Are you ready to go see her?” Izuku gave a smile as the girl nodded her head and gawked around at the complex they had. When Izuku walked into the lobby, he was surprised to find that not only was almost everyone surprisingly missing, but the two that awaited him were not who he expected to see. Mei stood just to the side of reception speaking with Kyoka, both of whom turned their heads when the doors opened. Izuku was glad to say that the situational training he had been doing with Kyoka was paying off, because while her face was perfectly pleasant, and she cooed and asked who Hiromi was, her eyes were serious and asking Izuku a million questions.

He made sure he was behind Hiromi when he nodded his head at Jiro. He would answer the questions, but not right now. They weren’t the kind to be answered in front of the kid. It only took him a moment to find out that everyone had moved upstairs to the common room and Izuku nodded. “Kyoka, could take Hiromi up there, please? We’ll be up in just a moment, and I’m sure she’d love to see her big sister. Isn’t that right, Hiromi?”

Jiro laughed as the little girl jumped up and down, excited, chanting the word yes. She confirmed a couple details with Izuku, handed him back his jacket and, picking up the young girl, headed deeper into the facility. The smiles that had been on both Izuku's and Mei’s faces until now dropped away, as if they hadn’t ever been there in the first place. “Well, how’d it go?”

Izuku looked sideways at her, and in his eyes was an emotional turmoil she hadn’t seen except in those brief moments after he jerked himself awake on the futon in their old garage workshop. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a packet of papers, handing them to her. She took a moment to glance through and wasn’t even finished with the first page before her eyebrows quirked up. “Izuku, these are damn comprehensive. When and why did you have documents like this even drawn up? Not that I’m not glad she’s out of the situation but…”

He nodded before leaning on the central desk there in reception. “Yeah, I know what you're asking. I had your mother draw them up about a half a year back for a commission that came in. It was one that I took on without any backup because of the delicate nature of it. The CEO of the company had passed away, and the woman that took his place had been good friends with him. When she found out that the old CEO’s wife was getting abusive with their kids after his death… well, she asked me to get them out. She said she owed that much to her mentor, and that the kids didn’t deserve that. I… convinced the mother to sign and that was that. I’ve always kept a copy of the documents just in case I came upon another situation like it. Didn’t think I would need to use them myself, though.”

Izuku sighed, now sliding down to sit on the ground. With his back against the desk, he ran his hands up his face and through his hair. Then he laughed, a stressed, sad sound, and with the pain in his eyes, it was enough to concern her. “If I hadn’t taken Nao and Tamakawa with me? I would have killed them.” His voice cracked, and he looked at Mei now. “How f*cked up is that? If I hadn’t had two police officers there and a little girl to keep in mind, I would have killed them for what they’ve done. I was so angry at seeing something like that again...”

Izuku trailed off, and Mei didn’t really know how to respond to that. She hadn’t been there, hadn’t been the one to talk to the parents. She did know that if he’d had, then he would have deemed it necessary. And from what she had seen, if he did deem it necessary, it would have been for the best. So she sat there with him for a while, just holding onto his left side.

…

When Mei and Izuku stepped into the common room, they were immediately struck by the absolute chaos. The older of the Toga sisters was chasing her younger sister around the room with some of the foam cubes from the pit of them in one corner. The foam pit was exactly as it sounded, a pit of foam cubes with televisions above it. Was it the most necessary addition to the room? Both of them would admit that it wasn’t, but they enjoyed the floating feeling of laying in them, so it was put in, anyway.

Dabi stood off to the side, slightly crouched, with two of his own cubes. His eyes darted between the two sisters, as if waiting on them to throw a cube at him, though he was grinning like a madman. Inko and Kyoka were sitting at the small bar in front of the room's kitchenette, watching with smiles as the sisters played together, though Kyoka’s jacks were at the ready in case one of the cubes got lobbed their way.

Mei laughed as Izuku had to catch one of the grey pieces before it could hit him in the face. That was when the two Togas realized what had just happened, and as the older paled, getting ready to apologize, it was Izuku’s turn to start laughing. He waved them off, telling them he didn’t care. “I’m just glad you seem to be feeling better.”

Izuku didn’t just say this because she was moving around without stumbling and actually had energy, but because there was actually life in her eyes. Some of the color had come back to her skin, as well.

Himiko nodded her head and thanked him. “I haven’t felt this good in years. I didn’t realize that drinking something like that,” her eyes darted over to her little sister, and it was clear that she didn’t feel comfortable revealing that to her, “could do such things for me.”

Izuku gave her a small nod, indicating he understood her intent. “Yes, well, we have several things we’ll be doing to make you feel better from now on.” Izuku turned his head to his mother and Kyoka now. “I’m sorry, mom, but could you watch Hiromi for a moment while I talk to Toga?” When he got his mother's affirmation, and she had started cooing over the small child, he signaled for Jiro to follow them out of the room, as well.

…

The small group of teens had barely stepped into the bio suite when Toga started jittering in place. “Why is Hiromi here? Not that I’m not glad to see her, but that would mean that you would have had to abduct her or see my parents. Why would you go see my parents? Oh god, you didn’t abduct her, did you? What did you mean multiple things? Why do I feel so much better with-” Izuku laughed and threw his hands up, cutting Himiko off in the middle of her panicked babbling.

“First things first, Kyoka, I presume that my mother and Dabi have caught you up on what’s happened thus far?” Jiro nodded her head, one hand twirling her right jack, and Izuku continued. “Good, then I’ll address your last question and work back. First off, as I said before, some people have quirks that necessitate changes in their habits, diets, etcetera. In your case, you have a quirk that, while it isn’t vampirism, has changed your physiology enough so that you can’t get nutrients in full from normal food. For whatever reason, your body wants blood, and not just so your quirk can operate. Regardless, for the time being, you’ll be on a specialized diet. The first reason for this is so that we can target your malnutrition. The second is so that you can get used to drinking blood, and no, there isn’t any way out of that.”

Toga sat down hard in one of the many desk chairs scattered around the suite and buried her head in her hands. Izuku frowned and sighed heavily. “Toga, there is nothing wrong with drinking blood to survive, contrary to what your father seems to have said. You aren’t doing it because you want to. You're doing it because you have to. There is a very large difference there. Besides that, you aren’t the first one to have something like this, and you will be far from the last.”

“Really?” Her head was still in her hands and her voice was muffled, but even so, they could all hear the distress and desperation.

Izuku nodded his head, though she couldn’t see it. “Really, plenty of people have drawbacks from their quirks that they can’t help. You aren’t even close to the only one that needs blood, either.” When they had managed to coax Himiko’s head out of her hands, Izuku smiled and continued. Though he did note to get in contact with Nedzu. If he could get the rat to send over Vlad King, then it would likely be a big help for Himiko to have someone that understood to talk to regarding the blood issues.

“Onto your second question, yes, I did go and see your parents.” All at once, the relaxed posture that they had coaxed Toga into dropped away. Her back went ramrod straight, and her pupils blew out from terror. Her arms wrapped around herself, and she had started babbling about not going back, that she wouldn’t when Izuku once again cut her off. He pulled the same papers he had shown Mei just a short time before and handed them to her.

“You won’t be going back. As of two-thirty today, you have officially become a ward of Moonlit Industries. Mei and I are now the ones responsible for you. You’ll be living on the residential floor with Mei, Dabi, and myself. You can choose either apartment one-o-four or one-o-five, both of which are open and identical. As for your sister, she is with us now because the two detectives who came by to question you earlier arrested your parents on a number of charges. They won’t be getting away without consequences." His voice dipped down at that line, and although Toga didn’t catch the danger in it, the other two shivered at the bloodlust that sat quietly in his tone.

Himiko slumped now, the tension fading away and being replaced with tears. It was finally over, she was finally safe from them. Jiro placed her hand on her shoulder, and she choked out several words that would haunt Kyoka and Mei. “You know, some part of me hoped that deep down they still cared. They were pieces of sh*t, but they were still my parents. Yet in the end, they signed me away like I was a piece of garbage.” Izuku decided then to spare her the details of the conversation. She didn’t need to know why they hadn’t wanted to give her up. Her head snapped up, startling both the girls, and her gaze bored into Izuku's. “Wait, what do you mean arrested? What is Hiromi supposed to do? For how long?! She can’t live at home without anyone!”

This was the part that Izuku wasn’t happy to tell her about, and he rubbed his eyes while doing it. “I honestly don’t know, Toga. In all likelihood, the prosecutor in a case like this, with all of the evidence that was and will be found? It won’t be pretty. Regardless, if even just the child abuse charge sticks, that's one count with you, then they’ll be looking at five years in prison. That’s before the slew of other charges they’ll be able to tack on, including child endangerment, neglect, and who knows what else they’ll find. The point is that they won’t be there for Hiromi which means that CPS will likely step in. Once they have, well, I honestly can’t tell you what is going to happen.”

“Then maybe we can help with that.” Izuku looked over to the doorway and found three individuals. He had expected two people and was mildly surprised when Phoenix had told him that Naomasa was here with two others. Now his eyebrow winged up, because instead of Tamakawa being with Naomasa as he had expected, the detective was here with Ms. Miya and a stranger.
She was tall with bowl-cut brown hair. Her demeanor was soft but serious, and her clothing choice fit that image. The detective led the two ladies over and introduced the tall brunet to them. “This is Sakaguchi Tamiko. She’s a caseworker with CPS. As you expected, it seems, she has been assigned young Hiromi’s case.”

Izuku took a moment to wave at Ms. Miya and told her that it was good to see her again. “You, as well, Mr. Midoriya, though I’m sure I wouldn’t be quite as pleased to see you if the cases you kept bringing me weren’t in the bag already. This case is no exception, and Himiko here won’t have to worry about her parents any longer.”

Toga looked at the lady and asked about her sister. Her little sister had always been kind to her. Even after her quirk manifested normally and her parents had decided that Hiromi was their real daughter. She didn’t want her own safety to come at the price of her sister's happiness. That was the reason she hadn’t run long before now.

“Generally the protocol in this situation would be to place the young girl in the care of relatives until the case could be brought before the court and what would be done could be decided. But in this case, because we can’t find any living relatives of yours, she would normally be placed in a foster home until everything was finished with.” The blood was seeping out of Toga’s already pale face when the caseworker put her hands up in a defensive position. Evidently, while Toga had been paling, the other three’s eyes had become sharp and threatening. “That would have been the case if, when we went to check on Hiromi before coming here, I hadn’t nearly been turned into a tiki torch and or ripped apart by that grizzly you have for a mother, Mr. Midoriya. Seeing as she seemed comfortable with you all already, and frankly because I was afraid of the outcome of removing the girl by force, I offered for her to stay with Mrs. Midoriya, as she seemed to have raised a fine young man. She accepted.”

Rather than Izuku respond, a question was asked quietly from Himiko. A croak of horror and sorrow. A question that left a bad taste in all of their mouths. “How do I tell her that her parents won’t be coming back because they are monsters?”

…

By the time the detective and his associates were finally done with the plethora of things that had to straighten out with the Togas, it was getting late in the day. It was just past six, and the sun was already down when they finally left Moonlit Industries. At some point, Kyoka had excused herself to head back to the common room, as well as to make a phone call to her parents. She'd be staying the night with them, as she wanted to make sure things with the Togas progressed smoothly.

Izuku came back to the common room after they had left with both Toga and Mei trailing limply behind him. Himiko rubbed at her hand, muttering, while Mei complained loudly to him. “How the hell do you do meetings constantly, Izuku? Just one and I feel like the dead.” Izuku just snorted the word practice back at her before turning to ask where Dabi had gone.

Jiro was the one to answer him while his mother continued to watch the television with Hiromi. “He left a little while ago. Said he needed to think about some things. If you ask me, Izuku, he’s been acting weird since Himiko got here.” Izuku knew why. He knew that this hit a little too close to home for the man. Instead of answering the unspoken question in Kyoka’s voice, he turned to his new little sister. It wasn’t his story to tell.

“Well, Hiromi, looks like you’ll be seeing a lot more of us around here.”

“Does that mean I get to see big sis without the shackles more?” The tension in the air could have drowned someone, and the fury in his mother's eyes said everything that he wanted but couldn’t show right now. Instead, he laughed a big, booming laugh and forced a smile onto his face.

“Yes, yes I do think it does.”

…

Izuku was sitting on the edge of the foam pit, looking at the sleeping forms of his partner and his close friend in the middle. They had all decided to watch a movie since it was getting late and they didn’t want to do anything else for the day. It had evidently been a long one, as the only people still awake were himself and his mother sitting on the couch.

He couldn’t help but smile because, at her feet, the two Togas were curled up and entangled. For the first time since he had met her that morning, Himiko looked peaceful. A small smile graced her features as she held Hiromi to her chest. He glanced at the clock on the wall, noting it to be just passed nine at night. His mother would be taking Hiromi to her new home soon, but he was also certain she was going to let them sleep a little longer. They deserved it after everything.

Izuku turned back now to the two teens being consumed by a sea of gray foam and smiled. They were family now, all of them. Even Dabi, despite how prickly he was at times. He hadn’t thought he’d have this again, but perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing to have people to rely on.

As if thinking about him summoned him, Izuku’s communicator gave the soft beep of a line connecting. Dabi wanted to talk, and Izuku stretched. Looks like the day isn’t over yet.

…

It only took moments after Izuku knocked for Dabi’s door to open for him. Silently, he sat down in one of the plush seats and waited for Dabi to talk to him from the couch. He had been the one asked to come after all. While he had a pretty good idea of what this was about, it wasn’t his place to start the conversation, and Dabi was thankful for the time to collect his thoughts. Finally, he started, and he did so somewhere Izuku hadn’t expected.

“My father is a f*cking asshole. We both know it. I won’t excuse his behavior. Some things can’t be excused.” Whether Dabi knew it or not, he touched his arms where they had been burnt before. Izuku filed that away. He had suspected for some time that the Todoroki home life wasn't great. “But even he had his lines, his ethics, his morals. Even when he made me train until I wanted to throw up, in his own twisted way, I think that he thought he was helping me. He sincerely wanted to make me stronger so that I could follow in his footsteps. In some part of his mind, he thought he was creating the next generation of defenders. So when my brothers and sister were born, he pushed all of us until he discarded us. He abused us, berated us, and nearly broke us. He did break our mother. As I said, I won’t excuse his behavior. Most certainly not while he is no doubt still putting Shoto through hell to train him. But my point is, in his own sick twisted way, he cared about us.”

Izuku listened intently. Dabi never spoke of his time as Toya, and Izuku didn’t push him on it. Everyone had things they didn’t like to talk about, and he would be a hypocrite if he tried to force Dabi’s past out of him. Dabi looked away from his own hands now and into Izuku’s eyes. He could see the same fury that he saw earlier, but now it was tempered by sorrow and horror.

“What we saw today, Midoriya? I thought we had it bad. I had my mother's body but was still forced to push my fire until I could barely move. My brother and sister were put through training that was light compared to mine but was still hellish for a kid. Natsuo had his flames pushed to the limit and was found lacking. Same with Fuyumi’s ice. All three of us weren’t good enough, but Shoto was born with both of their quirks.”

Dabi struggled for a moment before continuing, seemingly making his decision. “The people who did that to Toga? They were monsters. There is no other word for them. Even my father didn’t starve us or beat us just for existing. I’m worried about my siblings, Midoriya. I know I don’t have the right. Hell, I faked my own death to escape the family. I put them through that, and yet I still can’t help but feel worried.”

“Dabi, I would be concerned if today didn’t have an effect on you. You're right, Endeavour’s actions can’t be excused. Especially when he is supposed to be one of the moral pillars of our society as the number two. But being worried about your family? Isn’t that the point of it? To have people that you care for, that will have your back? Family is an instinct, Dabi. When push comes to shove, it's those that you know you can turn to, that you care for.”

Dabi sighed and rubbed at his face before taking a deep breath. “Thanks, Midoriya, I needed to hear that. Now I’m going to ask something that I know might be tough…”

“You want me to bring in your family, yes?” Dabi’s head snapped up before he shook it and laughed.

“I really can’t get anything past you, can I?” Dabi gave him a small smile. “For now, could you just get Natsuo to come in somehow? We were close, and I want to start there.”

Izuku nodded slowly. He could understand wanting to take things slow. “You actually did a commission for the president of the college that your brother is studying at. I can call it in and have his professor send him over here for a project of ours. He won’t know it's to meet you until he gets here. That sound good?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry to ask this of you-” Izuku cut him off with a look and a finger pointed at him. When Dabi stopped talking Izuku sighed and lowered his hand.

“I just told you, Dabi, what family was. You're part of ours now, as well, whether you like it or not, and you have your family's backs. This is nothing.”

…

Izuku had known better than to sleep that night, but he was tired from the day. A lot had happened, and he was going to crash eventually, regardless, so he figured he might as well get it over with. Even knowing what was coming hadn’t been enough to prepare Izuku to relive their assault on the Phurian re-education camp.

They had been planning the operation for weeks since they had gotten the intel about a large number of Osmian citizens being held in the camp. When they finally went in, the operation went so smoothly that it was practically textbook. The jungle hid them like panthers as they eliminated the perimeter's guards before moving in from the two sides of the camp. Izuku had been leading half of the Black Cats while Roselyn had been leading the other half from the other side. The blueprints had detailed where the guards' section was and where the prisoners' section was. Before they went to free the prisoners, the plan had called for the complete elimination of all Phurian forces stationed at the camp.

From the time when they moved on to the perimeter, it was less than half an hour before they had executed every guard awake, asleep, and even using the toilet. That was routine by this point, and all of them were used to the gurgling screams of a man trying to pull his last breath. It was when they joined back up to free the prisoners that they all saw something they would never forget. Piles of dead bodies were everywhere. Mass graves for the ones deemed unable to be rededicated and the smell of decay and rot hung thick in the air. Izuku remembered the horror of his men when they saw the ones still living. Their limbs looked like broomsticks covered with flesh, and they stumbled toward them like the living dead, begging for food. They were covered in dirt, mud, blood, and even their own excrement.

Their operations sergeant Fletcher Garcia had always been a man too kind for his own good and handed one of them some of his rations. That had gone wrong quickly with the man practically inhaling the food and clutching at their esophagus in agony. Midoriya and both of their medical sergeants realized what was happening then and started yelling, "No solid food, damn it!" They hadn’t been prepared for this. For the absolute brutality and inhuman conditions these people were living in. The bunkhouses, as they were called on the blueprints, were little more than dilapidated shacks with a millions holes, and the bunks were little more than varying levels of wooden planks to lay on. Open, festering sores covered many of them. Lice started coming out of those sores in droves, giving the soldiers the perfect example of what happened when insects started nesting inside of a person.

“Izuku, wake up. Wake Up.” He snapped awake, rolling from his bed and landing in a crouch. He was breathing hard, hitching in places. His eyes darted around the room, and he could feel tears burning his eyes as they slid down his cheeks. He choked back a sob, oh god what had they done.

“I’m sorry to wake you, sir, but you have a visitor that is asking to speak with you.” Izuku looked around, still trying to catch his breath, desperately trying to lock away the memories that continued to haunt him in his dreams. His eyes caught the clock that he kept on his nightstand. Who the hell is coming to visit at two in the morning and why? Preempting the question, Phoenix continued to speak. “I’ve identified them as Aizawa Shota, also known as Eraserhead in your files.”

That explains the two in the morning part. It doesn’t explain why he is visiting. Izuku sighed, grabbing a fresh shirt and a washcloth so that he could at least look semi-presentable to the Hero. “I’ll be down in just a moment. Thanks for waking me up, Phoenix. Go ahead and let him into the lobby. No need to keep him waiting in sub-thirty-degree weather.

Chapter 16: Chapter #16 | Abyss of Truth

Chapter Text

Aizawa Shota was a contradiction of a man. He wanted to do nothing more than sleep, and yet he worked two jobs that allowed him, maybe, the sporadic hour here and there. He had seen so much, stopped so many types of criminals. Strangers would see a sleepy, grouchy hobo. And those that knew him would agree with that assessment. But those that knew him also knew that he was so much more than just a cynic.

That was why, when Detective Tsukauchi had directed him to Midoriya Izuku for information in his current investigation, he thought he had been messing with him. Sure, the kid set off alarm bells in his head, and, sure, there was something preternatural with how the kid moved and behaved, but Aizawa simply didn’t see how the kid could be of any help with his investigation. He may be smart, and he might be one of the best damn analysts that the department had access to, but he had no information, nothing for Midoriya to analyze. He was looking for information, and even the best can’t make something of nothing.

And yet, Aizawa found himself rubbing his hands together in the lobby of Moonlit Industries at two in the morning. Initially, he had been skeptical of the detective, but when he realized that he was being serious, he figured he had nothing to lose from speaking with the kid. He had intended to keep an eye on him, anyway, especially if he was going to end up his student. If the visit yielded actionable intel, then all the better.

The detective told him that Midoriya hardly slept, so he hadn’t been too worried about potentially waking him. But when Midoriya entered the lobby, he changed his mind. The kid had dark bags under his eyes, and his eyes, while awake, were a little too glassy for his liking. His fingers twitched as if he was resisting reacting to invisible phantoms known only to him. “I’m sorry if I woke you up. I was told you might be able to help me.”

Izuku took a deep breath, and it was almost as if he became an entirely different person. His eyes cleared as he focused on Aizawa, his hands stilled, and a smile that could charm businessmen appeared on his face. “I’m not certain as to what I could be of help with, Eraser, but I can certainly do my best to try.” Izuku motioned for Aizawa to follow him back into the facility before he continued on the way to his office.

“You did wake me, but don’t worry about that. I don’t tend to sleep much more than a few hours every few days. It works well for me usually, but I was having something of a nightmare, so your arrival was fortuitous on my part.” Izuku motioned for Eraser to take a seat as he took one behind his office desk. “Tell me, what can I do for you this fine morning.”

Aizawa weighed the kid's explanation of his ragged appearance against his need for information and decided that in this case, the information won out. He had no reason to pry. For all he knew, it was exactly as the kid said and nothing more. “I’m here looking for information on the Church of Clarity. I was told by a mutual acquaintance of ours that you might be able to tell me something.”

Izuku narrowed his eyes, and for the briefest of moments, he could have sworn there was surprise on the kid's face. “Hmm, I’ve certainly heard of the name before, though I’m not really sure what I could tell you that you'd be unable to find out from the streets. They’re a new pseudoreligion that has cropped up and gained some traction in the last few years. Why? What’s your interest in them?”

Aizawa sighed and leaned back. He hadn’t expected the kid to know even that much. They weren’t terribly well known because they were seclusive. When they recruited someone, it was like they dropped off the face of the earth. “I’m looking into a series of disappearances that seem to link back to them. Right now, I don’t have much other than their name. I don’t know what Tsukauchi had expected you to know on a cult that pro heroes can’t even find anything on.”

Izuku stiffened in his chair and his eyes became sharp, locking with Aizawa's. “You said that Naomasa sent you to me for this? What were his exact words?”

Aizawa stiffened at the gaze. He was no longer leaning back because that gaze look promised reprisal if he was lying to him. The attitude switch reminded Eraser that Nedzu had rated him enough of a danger to bring both Snipe and himself to a simple meeting. It perturbed him more that the kid had so easily lulled him into that false sense of security. “His exact words were, and I quote, 'If you really think that they are going to be a danger, go see Izuku at Moonlit Industries. He’ll help you if that is the case.’”

Izuku’s gaze bored into Aizawa's, sending a chill down his spine. “And? Do you? Is the Church of Clarity going to be an issue?”

“I believe so, yes. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have bothered you at this time of day. That would be illogical.”

“f*ck.” Izuku tapped under his ear, first connecting to Mei. “Mei, sorry to wake you, but I need you down here in my office asap. Things just got complicated again.”

“I’m already awake. I couldn’t go back to sleep after the nap in the foam. I’ll be down in just a moment. Do I need to bring anything with me, or is this more of a verbal sparring kind of situation?”

There was a pause for Aizawa, but he could have sworn there wasn’t a communicator in the kid's ear. So who the hell was he talking to? Izuku looked back at Aizawa and could see the kid sizing him up. “Coffee. We’re all going to need coffee for this.” Another pause. “Yeah, grab my special blend for this.”

Midoriya took his hand off his neck and immediately picked up his desk phone. Aizawa was about to ask what he was doing when Midoriya set the phone down, and set it to speaker. The line clicked, connected, and they both heard the slow, tired tone of Detective Tsukauchi recite his name and ask how he could help them.

“Sorry for waking you, Nao. I know you need it more than me, but I have to confirm something important. Did you send Eraser to me for information?” There was a brief pause across the line as the waking detective yawned and tried to pull his mind into coherence.

“Uh, yeah. I did. Why?” Izuku continued to look at Aizawa, though he relaxed marginally. “If he’s there for information, then you can trust him. If that’s it, I’d really like to get at least another two hours of sleep before getting back to work.”

Izuku chuckled, “Yeah, Nao, that’s all I needed. Thanks, and get six. You can’t solve any cases if your brain is clouded by fatigue.” Izuku clicked the phone back in place, took a deep breath, and sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes. Before Aizawa could ask him what that was about, the door to the office clicked open and Mei came strolling in with a coffee pot and three mugs.

The glorious aroma of dark roast coffee filled the air and made Aizawa's mouth water. When Mei filled a cup and handed it to him he could have sworn that she was an angel. A very tired angel that was wearing, somehow, greasy pajama pants and a tank top that was missing one of its straps. But at that moment, to Aizawa, an angel all the same. When he took his first drink, he decided that she was actually a demon temptress in disguise. Oh, don’t get him wrong, the coffee tasted like ambrosia on his waiting palette. But the jolt that went down his spine couldn’t have been natural.

“Whoa there. You may want to slow down on that. Izuku’s blend of coffee has enough caffeine in it that it could legally be considered a medical stimulant. This is for sipping, not chugging. Unless, of course, you want to be wired for the next several weeks.” Hatsume took her own and sat down in the other seat across from Izuku before sipping at her own drink. While Aizawa sipped on his drink, he was now subjected to both of the teenagers analyzing him. “What’s this about?”

Izuku spoke now to Mei, though his gaze never left Aizawa's face. “He came for information. Nao vouched for him. What do you think?”

Eraser watched Hatsume’s eyebrows furrow. “Well, I don’t know you, Eraser. But I trust the detective's judgment. He’s proven himself on multiple occasions. Besides, he jumped into a gunfight without any information to try to help you. So that counts for something doesn’t it?”

Izuku took a moment to stare into his reflection in the dark fluid of his cup before he tipped it back and drained his mug in one go. Hatsume shuddered at the sight, and Aizawa couldn’t help but be a bit impressed. “If it were anyone but you, Aizawa.” Izuku shook his head and began explaining himself. “I don’t try to keep it a secret, but I don’t have a particularly positive view of heroes nowadays. Don’t get me wrong, there are some that do good work. But a vast majority are in it for money and fame. It’s wrong. But you and a few of your nighttime coworkers are different. You came into that firefight to save someone that you didn’t know against unknown enemy combatants and an unknown situation. Then you avoided the media hounds like they were a plague. If I’m being honest, that one earned you points with me.”

Izuku rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, one hand against it. “But what got you my respect is your track record. You’ve had your hero license since you graduated from U.A at twenty-one. You were invited back by the president to teach at twenty-two and have both taught and patrolled since then. As much to please your husband, I’m guessing. Otherwise, I doubt you would have taken the teaching role. Out of the four hundred and eighty students you’ve had since then, barely ninety-six made it to their senior year. And out of those, only forty-eight have graduated with you as their professor. Those forty-eight students have since gone on to become heroes that can be proud to be called such. You don’t train the many. You train the elite, and it shows.”

Aizawa stiffened in his seat again. The coffee had been getting him to relax, but the kid knew too much. He knew that Nedzu hadn’t given the kid his file, so how the hell did he know as much? Before he could open his mouth to question him, the kid locked him in place with a stare as he continued. “If you were any other hero to ask me for information, even with Detective Tsukauchi vouching for you, I would have turned you away. But I know that you won’t betray that trust, and I know that you can understand the need for the gray zone of heroics sometimes. That being said, let us get your information, shall we?”

Aizawa watched Midoriya pour himself another cup of the black poison while speaking seemingly to the air. “Phoenix, prep the data room. We’ll be making use of it for this endeavor.”

“Acknowledged. Shall I prep all data regarding the Church of Clarity that we have?” Izuku gave the affirmative as Aizawa jerked at the voice emanating from seemingly nowhere.

“That is this facility's caretaker. She’s an artificial intelligence by the name of Phoenix. Treat her with the same respect you would anyone else, am I understood?” Aizawa was shaken for obvious reasons but managed to nod all the same. “I’ll say it just in case it isn’t obvious, but everything from this point on is a secret you will take to your grave.” Izuku stepped over to the bookcase and scanned the chip in his hand, revealing the security door and elevator behind it. “Let’s go get your information."

…

Aizawa had no issues with elevators. Or so he had thought before he was stuck in one with two creepily silent teenagers going down for the last five minutes. “How much longer do we ha-” The elevator itself cut him off when it slowed to a stop and the doors opened. Ahead of them was another lobby, and after having passed through it, a long corridor. Izuku turned at the first door and gestured for them to head inside. “How deep are we Midoriya?”

“About four miles under the surface, and before you ask, no, that isn’t the deepest. The deepest is at six miles. Those are hot labs that we can detonate if an experiment goes wrong.” Aizawa blanched before turning to him.

“Detonate? Go wrong? What exactly are you testing down here?” Izuku just smiled at him and, again, gestured him inside. When he passed through the doorway, the confusion that he had been feeling didn’t abate. They were in a lit, circular room with only a couple chairs. Then the world lit up, as if a million stars were trapped underground with them. The lights swirled for a moment before coalescing into images and models of people in front of them.

“Holographics. It's a technology that we are hoping to soon release to the public. The only issue left to iron out is with ray tracking with fast alterations. Either way, Phoenix, it just occurred to me, cross reference these files against the police database so Aizawa has a starting point when he heads into the station.”

“Confirmed. Cross-referencing CoC files with the police database. Displaying results.” The lights swirled again and several more files appeared alongside the ones that were already floating around.

“Alright, first off, we’ve not been able to identify the head of the cult. Several people pop up repeatedly, but we’ve not found the leader yet. This here is the second in command from what we can tell.” Izuku grabbed one of the folders and flicked his wrist towards the center of the room. Light burst from the folder, and now in front of them was a series of photos from varying angles. All high definition and all from different parts of the city. “He goes by the name of An’Seir and leads the local chapters of the church.”

Aizawa shook his head. “This is all incredibly illegal.” Midoriya just snorted.

“Law enforcement currently has more discretion than ever before in history to put people in prison. Heroes are even worse. They can practically hand someone off to the police with nothing but their word, and the police have to take them. What this is, Aizawa, is incredibly useful.”

“The other major recurring character is this man, though he is far more careful to limit how much he is seen.” Izuku once again grabbed a folder and brought up the images alongside the previous ones. In the air floated the image of a black cloud wearing a rather elegant suit. “If I had to guess, he has some form of transportation quirk, because anytime we try to track him we lose him almost immediately.”

“What about invisibility?” Mei shook her head and chimed in from where she was parsing through several police documents and collaborating them with their own information.

“Nope, if that were the case, we would have picked them up on any number of the other sensors. IF, radiation, etcetera. They are just gone, poof.”

Midoriya continued on from there to explain their base of operations here in Japan and the locations that they had sussed out thus far. It was only when Aizawa asked what their modus operandi was that Mei and Izuku hesitated, looking at each other.

“See, that’s where it gets a bit strange.” Izuku grabbed several of the images floating in the air and shuffled them back into holofolders, before grabbing another couple of folders and pulling bits from them to the air. “They are worshipping a deity by the name of Azathoth. If that name sounds vaguely familiar, it's because it's from the Necronomicon. As in, the book of the dead that appeared in early twentieth-century author H.P. Lovecraft's works. The deity first appeared in Lovecraft's 1922 unfinished short story Azathoth, before appearing in multiple other Lovecraft stories, most notably The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath.”

Aizawa just stared at him. “You're f*cking with me. Right? How can anyone buy into the stories of a dead man, from that long ago, as real deities? It's illogical.” Midoriya just shook his head.

“Honestly? I wish I was, especially since the disappearances are a factor now. From what I can tell? The group has begun hailing the man as a prophet trying to show us the truth in a time where he would have been considered crazy if he’d claimed it was real. I’ll attach the relevant information and stories for you to puruse if you’d like. As for belief, well, isn’t that what all religion is? Belief in something bigger than themselves? Most notably that someone else has always written down first? Besides that, think about how easy it would be for a leader to manipulate the belief of such a thing nowadays. All it would take is one person with a squid quirk crying that Cthulhu is coming.” Izuku shook his head. That was a debate for a different time, place, and audience. “Regardless of what they believe, there was some real nasty stuff in those stories. Dark sh*t, that if they are trying to replicate? Puts a whole new twist on these disappearances.”

…

By the time that Aizawa was led from the underground portion of the facility and back out the front door, he had more leads than he could have envisioned having. Multiple suspects to track, multiple facilities to observe and infiltrate, documentation on the cult. And for the first time in months, Midoriya Izuku made a bit more sense to him. He knew what he knew because he wasn’t just a brilliant analyst but because he’d built an information network in the Kanto region that rivaled, if not surpassed, many government agencies around the world.

Nothing in this region happened without Midoriya knowing about it, and information was power. Aizawa shuddered at the thought but felt reassured strangely. If anyone had to have that much power, at least it was someone willing to aid the police department with it.

…

The air of the common room was filled with the scent of breakfast and the sizzling sound of meat in the frying pan. It was almost six in the morning, and the sun was just beginning its ascent into the sky. Golden rays creeping over the horizon and filtering across the room as Izuku cooked and Mei sat watching him.

Since they had moved into their apartments upstairs, Izuku had insisted on cooking breakfast for the two of them. It was his way of making sure she ate, and it let her do the same for him. For whatever reason, the food he tended to make was more western in nature. When he cooked in the morning, where one would expect rice with salad and some kind of grilled fish or eggs, Izuku would cook them something a little different each time. One morning it may have been bacon and an omelet. Another morning it might have been pancakes or waffles. It had always confused her why the son of one of the top Japanese chefs had such experience with western style dishes, but she had always let it slide.

This morning, when Izuku set her plate down in front of her with a smile, she finally decided to push him for answers. “Izuku, what is really going on? Not with Eraser, though the CoC is concerning, but with you?”

Izuku took a bite of his breakfast and quirked an eyebrow at her. “What do you mean? I didn’t think anything was going on.”

Hatsume shook her head with a frown. “Don’t give me that. You may be able to hide it from Aizawa, but you can’t hide it from me. Your hands were shaking when I gave you your coffee. You chugged the cup of that poison you call a blend. You don’t ever do that unless something is bothering you. Besides that, do you think I don’t hear you at night? The walls aren’t thin, but I can still hear it when you wake up screaming. Please Izuku. Talk to me, I can’t help you if you don’t.”

Izuku gave Mei a look now that scared her to the core. It was a mixture of self-loathing, hatred, fear, paranoia, and then, finally, resignation. His eyes held a deep sorrow, the seas of emerald glassing over as if seeing something far away from him. He sighed then, stood, walked to the counter, and pulled a bottle of bourbon from the cabinet. Mei’s eyes went wide. “I wasn’t aware you drank, Izuku.”

He shook his head, “I don’t, I use it for cooking. Its smokey vanilla flavor pairs nicely with a good number of ingredients.” Izuku pulled a glass from another cabinet and poured a small amount in the bottom of it before capping the bottle, putting it away, and sitting back down with the glass. “But if I’m going to talk about this, I could use the drink right now. Hell, I don’t even know if you’ll believe me. I hardly believe it myself.” Izuku rubbed at his face, scratching at the five o'clock shadow that had formed on his face. She wasn’t used to seeing him look this weathered. Usually, he kept himself neurotically clean-shaven.

“Do you remember me telling you about the coma I was in? That year where I was in a hospital bed instead of school?” Izuku waited for Mei to remember, and when she nodded her head, he continued. “Yeah, well, it was a year for everyone here. It was eighteen for me.” Izuku swirled the bourbon in the glass and laughed. “Doesn’t that sound like something an absolute madman would say?”

Mei frowned. Because, yes, it did sound insane. What Izuku was implying should be impossible. But… “Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.” Izuku chuckled at her quoting Arthur Conan Doyle. Hatsume sighed, “Yes, you're right, it does sound crazy. But honestly, it would explain a few things. So what happened? You said eighteen years, so I’m assuming you didn’t spend those doing nothing.”

Izuku looked up at Hatsume with a look bordering on disbelief, then relief, and finally, he was just happy that she believed him. He chuckled, sipping on the alcohol. “Quite right. The last thing I remember before the coma was my head hitting the brick wall of the alley where I was found. After that, it was just black for a while. I don’t know how long I was in that state. It was so dark, and there didn’t seem to be anyone or anything. I was just in an abyss with no one and nothing but my thoughts to keep me company. It seemed like an eternity, and at the same time like an instant when I woke up.”

Izuku could still see it, feel it. The feeling of rocks and branches poking into his skin, the feeling of the dappled sunlight shining through the canopy above him. The smell of sap and foliage thick in the air, as if a heavy rain had come through and drug up the smells of the earth. “I woke up in a forest. I had no idea where I was, how did I end up in a forest after all? I wandered for hours before I found a road. I followed it and ended up in a village. The church orphanage there took me in, and it's where I lived for the next eight years. It was funny, I was fourteen when the attack happened. But for some reason, I woke up a kid again. Five or six by the sisters' estimates. They were such kind women.”

Izuku’s eyes went blurry for Mei, and she realized he had been holding back tears. “What happened to them?”

Izuku looked up with a haunted expression. So much loss and misery in his eyes. “I was out in the forest one day with a friend of mine. We were training to be soldiers. We wanted to guard the village, protect our friends and families. Even after waking up in an entirely different time and place, I still couldn’t break out of the hero mindset.” He shook his head. He had been so naive back then. Too willing to see only good and nothing bad.

“We heard the bells start tolling that signaled an attack, but by the time we got back, it was already too late. The entire village had been burnt to the ground, Mei. Buildings, fields, people. Everything flammable had been lit on fire by the Phurian raiding party. We got back to the church just in time for the roof to collapse. If anyone had still been alive in the church, then the roof collapse would have put them out of their misery.” Izuku could taste the air, the wood smoke mixed with the acrid taste of charred human flesh. He could see the people run down in the streets, could still hear the gurgling sound the ones that were still alive made as they tried to pull their burnt and mutilated bodies to their final resting place.

He felt Mei’s hand wrap around his own on the table and took another drink of the alcohol to wash the taste of his memories out of his mouth. “Our country's soldiers found us there the next morning. A young boy, barely fourteen, holding onto another boy just younger than him. We were the only survivors from our village.” Mei had known that Izuku had seen things, but she had never imagined it would be as bad as this. It was one thing to be a part of a villain attack. It was something else entirely to be one of the only survivors from an attack.

“I decided to join up after that, went through training and was offered officers training. I went through that and was brought in for special forces training. Finally, I was assigned to a unit by the name of the Black Cats.”

Hatsume’s eyes went wide. “The cat on the moon emblem you insisted on having on your hero gear.”

Izuku nodded grimly. “It was our unit emblem. There were twelve of us in the unit. Our commander, myself as her second in command, our operations sergeant, our intelligence sergeant, two weapons sergeants, two communications, two medical, and two engineering sergeants. We saw a lot of combat. The Phurian and Osmian empires were the two major powers on the continent, and it showed. The war lasted years, and they threw everything they had at us. First, it was chemical weapons, and then, when that stopped working, biological ones. We eventually lost the war, but the Black Cats never stopped fighting. We formed a resistance of sorts, tried to help people, tried to fight back against the sheer barbarity that was shown to the Osmian citizens.”

“Eventually the resistance found an old facility out in the mountains. We moved our base of operations there and discovered several interesting tidbits. The first was the facility's name, Elysium. We thought it strange until we found their research data. Its research was from one of the lost eras. They had been experimenting with the ability to open a gateway to different worlds. Project Salvation, as they called it. They had almost succeeded before the facility was shut down. We decided to evacuate as many Osmians as we could rescue to a different world. We ran dozens of operations and worked with dozens of different projects at the same time, desperately trying to give us an edge. The genetic research data that was left behind was incredibly useful for that. All of us left underwent extensive genetic rewrite. In the end, we succeeded. We got the civilians out. But in the end, only three Black Cats got to see what we fought for.” Izuku had almost finished the glass, but still, Mei could see the tension in him. It was taking everything in him not to break it in his hand.

“What was it like on the other side?” Izuku laughed now, a disparaging sound of self-hatred.

“I couldn’t tell you. I detonated the facility's reactors so that no one could follow them through.” Mei blanched as she realized what he was insinuating. That his last moments in that world had been inside of an explosion. She hadn’t meant to, but she whispered in horror, that's why you were so careful with the reactor.

Izuku nodded his head slowly. “The one in our underground could take out a solid chunk of the Kanto region. I detonated three of them. There should be nothing left of that mountain range now but ash and the angry tears of Phurian high command.”

Mei leaned back for a moment before shaking her head in awe. “You’re a hero to all those people, Izuku. You saved all of them.”

Izuku shook his head angrily before downing what was left in his glass and standing. As he walked towards the stairs to the residential level, he said, “I’m no hero, Mei. I’m just a killer. The real heroes are the ones I walked beside that didn’t make it through that gate.”

It took Mei a long moment to process everything she’d been told, and when she did, she looked sadly at Izuku’s plate of food that was untouched. It was then that a passage from an old fantasy novel she’d read popped into her head. She hadn’t understood it when she'd read it. Not fully, not its deeper meaning. Now she did, and she whispered it to the sun as it crept up for all to see. “Ten spears go to battle and nine shatter. War didn’t forge the one that remained. No, it identified the one that wouldn’t break.”

Chapter 17: Chapter #17 | White Sands

Chapter Text

It took only a few weeks for the Togas to integrate themselves into the families of Moonlit Industries. It took only a couple more for Himiko to start looking like a real human being again. None of them really wanted to know what exactly was in Izuku’s blood that let her get back to form as quickly as she did. She promptly wanted to do something to warrant her presence there. As it was, she was basically living there for free, and it hadn’t been sitting well with her.

It took many arguments with Midoriya, but eventually he was worn down by Himiko. They gave her a job as their receptionist, since she didn’t have the knowledge to help them in the labs, he didn’t want to make her clean, and Dabi would be there to keep an eye on her. She was still trying to figure out what she wanted to do in the future, but they decided that would come with time. She’d barely had a few months outside of captivity and had enough on her plate trying to cram missed knowledge in. The bright side was, Midoriya thought, they didn’t have a whole lot of visitors. That gave her plenty of time to study at the front desk.

One fine Saturday morning, Shota Aizawa walked up to the front doors of the two people he would saddle with the description of mad scientist. He waited for the doors to buzz, allowing him in, and found their chief of security waiting for him. “Dabi, I need to speak with Midoriya. Is he in?”

Dabi chuckled. “Yeah, he said you’d be coming by. Come with me, he’s doing training with everyone right now.” Aizawa shuddered a little. He would never get used to the idea that Midoriya was actively keeping tabs on everyone and everything he could. Dabi led him through the hallways, up to the second floor, and finally stopped before a door that had a plaque next to it which was simply labeled weapons suite. Dabi opened the door and gestured Aizawa inside.

When Aizawa heard the words "weapons suite," he expected to see workbenches, a shooting bay or two, some kind of armory. Rather, what Aizawa saw was a large open room with a track wrapping all the way around it in an oval. A large swath of padded mats stretched across the floor and a dozen or so miscellaneous workout tools were in racks on the walls.

The seventeen-year-old that he was looking for was currently in an exercise outfit in the middle of the mats, playing a dangerous game with two of his companions. It became evident to Aizawa that whatever Midoriya had been teaching them had been effective, because Hatsume and Jiro moved in perfect sync. A flurry of punches and kicks that would make even some of his third years blanch at the idea of fending off. Yet Midoriya did. Blows rained down around him, which he would nimbly dodge or deflect before striking at the soft parts of his opponents.

To their credit, a number of his blows were dodged and deflected, as well. Many more of them still found their targets, though, if the pained hissing and thudding of flesh was any indicator. Aizawa wandered over to Toga, who had her back to one of the walls and her nose down in a textbook of some sort. “Just how long have they been at this?”

Himiko looked up from her textbook long enough to recognize Aizawa before burying her nose back into her scratch paper. “About an hour or so now. Generally, Izuku makes Jiro show up every morning for training since she’s aiming for the hero course. Says it’s good for her to get used to getting up at an unpleasant hour, as well as how to properly fight without using her quirk. Mei joins every Saturday. Izuku convinced her that even support technicians need to know how to fight apparently. He agreed to train me once I’ve caught up on work, but how the hell are humans supposed to do calculus? How am I supposed to be able to just find the derivative of h(x) = (4x^3 - 7x + 8)/(x)?”

Aizawa snorted and was about to comment that most normal human beings couldn’t do calculus, much less easily, when there were two hard thunks and groans. He looked back over to the mats to find that Izuku had evidently capitalized on one of Hatume's missed blows to fling her into Jiro and, using Hatume’s body, pin the both of them. “The simplified derivative of that is 8x−8/x^2. Don’t worry, Himiko, you’ll get there eventually. Calculus is a nightmare for most people, anyway.” Helping the two girls he had just pinned to their feet, he continued talking. “Go ahead and take a couple minutes rest, guys.” And then to Aizawa, “I’m assuming that this isn’t just a friendly visit from our favorite hero?”

Aizawa shook his head but noted that, through all of that, the boy didn’t seem winded in the slightest. He’d filled out since the first time he’d seen him and had sprouted up to nearly six feet, which was practically unheard of for the Japanese. Aizawa would have thought that some kind of steroids were involved if he hadn’t known better. “No, Tsukauchi wanted your opinion on an operation we’re planning. It’s coming up in a week, and we wanted to cross it with your opinion.” Izuku nodded before gesturing to a small table folded out of the wall.

“I would have thought that an area labeled weapons suite would have been more. Well, weapon oriented.” Izuku laughed as he took his seat.

“Leaving out the obvious joke about our bodies being the best weapons, the entire facility is built to be modular, this room included. At the flip of a switch, this entire room changes from a training and exercise facility to a weapons range, workshop, and armory. The walls in here are reinforced with a chromium steel alloy. Anything that we’d be testing indoors here won’t be going through it. Anything that’s either a larger caliber or a prototype that I would be worried about going through, we test in the field on the other side of the hangar bays and their runway. Now, let's see this plan you’ve come up with for this operation.”

…

Izuku leaned back in his seat after Aizawa left, watching Jiro and Hatsume run around the track to cool down after their spar. A couple minutes into their planning, Izuku had set them against each other, confident that they knew what they should be doing.

There hadn’t been much Izuku could suggest changing. Personally, he would use Gang Orca rather than Ryukyu. Nothing against her. She was just prone to attracting attention with that draconic form of hers, and they were trying to avoid that here. Besides that, the Church of Clarity facility that they were going into had a good number of members with sensitive hearing. Gang Orca could use that to their advantage.

But something felt off, and Izuku couldn’t place it. Something was going to go wrong and, while he had their assurances that they would take all precautions, Izuku still couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was going to happen was bad.

…

“Are you sure about this, Izuku? It is possible that you will be needed in the next eight hours. This might not be the time to perform this operation.”

Midoriya sighed, shrugging out of the last of his clothing and stripping before laying down on the surgical table. “You’ve done the calculations, Phoenix. We both know that the likelihood of that is practically nonexistent. We’ve been putting this off because you have been worried about that, your ability to operate on me, and the safety of the implants. We’ve verified the implants a dozen times over, we won’t be disturbed as Mei has agreed to take over any administrative issues that come up tonight, and you are more than capable of doing this if the test runs and simulations are any indication.”

“I know the percentages, but something could still go wrong. Can’t we put this off a little longer? Run more simulations? Let me run a few more test runs. I’m afraid, Izuku, that I could hurt you if I mess up.”

Izuku frowned but nodded. “I understand where you're coming from. You're scared, and that is okay. Mei and I made you as human as any of us, so I can tell you with certainty that fear isn’t a bad thing, Phoenix. It can be a helpful thing that keeps us from harm, but sometimes it keeps you from living your life fully. The biggest liars in our lives are our own fears. If I could, then yes, I would absolutely let you run more tests, but something's not right and I want to be prepared, even if my augments would be overkill. Besides that,” Izuku looked up and into one of the cameras, where he knew Phoenix was watching.

“You’ll be fighting against my own healing factor, unlike the tests. If anything, you’re overprepared. We’ve allocated eight hours, but more than likely, I’ll be healed within two, even though you’ll be cutting into practically my entire body. It’ll just take my body at least four to sync up with the new systems weaved through my nervous system. In all likelihood? I’ll be up and moving around before the night's even over.”

Izuku laid back down after getting a confident, if slightly shaky, affirmation from their A.I companion. Following the robotic arms surrounding the surgical table coming to life, the last thing Izuku saw as one placed the anesthesia mask on him and prepared to intubate was another set of arms picking up the thousands of microscopic wires that would be threaded throughout him.

…

Izuku felt at peace. No memories came to mind, and nothing tried to force itself to the forefront of his thoughts. No pressing issues, only little details like what he should go do, or what he should cook for dinner. For the first time in decades, he felt at ease. His muscles relaxed, and he sank into the surface he was laying on. It was soft, like a cloud, and radiated warmth from all around him. He sighed in bliss before lilting laughter broke him out of his reverie.

He opened his eyes to find the one woman he had never expected to see again standing over him. Roselyn Perry in all of her glory. She was by all accounts a tall woman, standing at five foot nine, and was built like a brick sh*thouse from years of military operations and training. Her lengthy ginger hair flowed gently in the soft breeze while her bright blue eyes gleamed with laughter. He jolted and stood up quickly, snapping to attention with a quick Captain!

She laughed again before speaking in that singsong tone she had. “Ay, now relax, Chief. There is no threat here, Izuku.” He relaxed again, really taking in where they stood. In one direction, it seemed, dunes of powdery white sand would go on forever, trailing over the horizon. In the other, the ocean calmly lapped at the beach, kicking up a salty mist that permeated the air. Izuku looked left and right to find that even the coastline seemed to go on forever in an endless beach as far as his eyes could see. He turned back, confused, to Rose and prepared to ask her where they were at when he really took in what she was wearing. Her outfit was entirely white and was nothing like he’d ever seen her wear before. Her sundress flowed gently with her hair while her sunhat cast an otherworldly hue onto her face. He was utterly stricken by her, and she couldn’t help but blush a little at his stare. When he started to try and choke out words, she laughed again with pure joy filling her eyes.

“Where are we, right? Oh, don’t give me that look. We’ve always been able to read each other better than the other would like. But where are we? Well, that is the question.” Roselyn turned her back on Izuku to stare out at the ocean's horizon before continuing. “I wish I could tell you, but I’m not so sure myself. It's not unpleasant here, so I guess it doesn’t really matter. We did always say that we would love to find ourselves beachfront property.”

Izuku stepped up behind her and tentatively wrapped his arms around her waist before leaning his chin on her shoulder. They stood like that for a moment before Rose sighed and turned into him. “I wish we could stay like this forever, but sadly we are running short on time. I don't know if we’ll be able to talk like this again, so listen to what I have to say, alright Izuku?”

Izuku nodded his head, though he was still very confused about all of this. “You aren’t at war anymore. I know what we’ve seen can be hard to get out of our heads. I see it, too, every time I close my eyes. You don’t have any of the Black Cats with you where you’ve gone, and because of that, in your mind, you don’t have anyone you can truly share this burden with. But you are no longer fighting a losing war. You don’t have to worry if every next person will betray you. Please, find a shoulder to lean on. Find someone you can care for again.”

Izuku buried his head in Rose’s shoulder and wanted to shake. He didn’t want to think about the things they’d done, the things they’d had to do. He just wanted to stay here. His eyes were getting heavy, and it felt like his entire body was becoming leaden. “I won’t ask you to move on. I know that you would only ignore that. I won’t ask you to stay safe now that you can, because that's not the kind of man you are. But you have a unique opportunity too many of us didn’t get. You get to play the role of peacekeeper now.” Roselyn placed her hands on Izuku’s cheeks and pulled his eyes down to her own deep ocean blue.

“Here is your captain’s final order for you, Chief. Make sure you fulfill it for me. Go become the shield you always wanted to be, a ghrá. Protect the people you want to protect as relentlessly steadfast as you protected our family. Become their bulwark against the darkness that lives inside humanity.” The last thing Izuku heard was his Rose wishing him safe passage, and the last thing he tasted was whiskey and sea salt on his lips.

…

Izuku woke with a jolt and tears in the corners of his eyes. It took him several deep breaths to calm himself enough that he wasn’t in danger of panicking. It felt like he had just had a piece of himself stabbed with red hot rebar. He had buried those feelings until whatever that was ripped them out of him and now it felt like they had just been exposed raw to the world.

When he looked around, he was unsurprised to find Mei asleep at his bedside. He sighed. Even if he told them a million times not to worry about this procedure, they would still worry. He thought back to what Roselyn had told him. She had said to find someone to lean on. He supposed he had, in a way.

Phoenix, are you there? It took only a moment for the synthetic voice to echo in his head.

Indeed. The operation was a success, but please don’t make me do anything like that again. I do believe I’ve now experienced the emotion you call stress. I don’t like it.

Izuku chuckled and set his hand down on Mei’s head. Don’t worry about that. I don’t plan on having you do anything like that again. Any further augmentations would be localized at worst. Thank you for doing it, though I will say you're lucky. No one likes stress, and we all deal with it constantly. He stretched his limbs, pleased that he could once again feel the pulse of his electrical signals.

The ocular module is the only one that is currently disabled. I felt it would be best if you activated and customized it yourself once you woke. Izuku cracked his neck and back before standing up. Gradually he followed the procedures he’d memorized what felt like a lifetime before to bring the module online. A million data points appeared in his vision at once, making him hiss and laugh at the same time. It wasn’t long before he’d gotten the heads up display in his vision toned back and refined to his liking.

Izuku turned to look at Mei, who was busy stretching herself out. Evidently, when he had hissed, he had woken her up. Though he couldn’t complain, since he wanted to ask her a question, anyway. “Morning, Mei. The operation went perfectly. All systems are online, and we should be able to use it in the next prototypes of my gear so that they can be activated remotely.”

She nodded her head, though clearly she was still concerned, and that wasn’t at all abated by Izuku’s statement. “By the way, a question for you. Do you guys have swimsuits by chance? I think it's a good day for us to head to the beach. After all, we haven’t been back since we finished cleaning it.” Mei could only stare at him, absolutely dumbfounded, before breaking out in laughter.

…

Izuku sat at his desk with a fairly dopey smile on his face. They had indeed gone to the beach. To his pleasure, the city had managed to keep it clean after they had finished with it. If he’d had to threaten a few people to get that done, well, no one needed to know that. Hatsume had taken the opportunity to test several of her babies, though that surprised no one. They were at least nonvolatile this time, even if he was sure the family that had gotten suddenly covered in snow on a summer day would have disagreed with him.

Himiko had never been to the beach, and it had been wonderful to see her eyes light up when she saw the ocean for the first time. That had made Izuku as furious as it had made him happy. If her parents hadn’t been in the court's custody, he likely would have hunted them down. What the hell kind of Japanese citizen didn’t know what the ocean looked like? He would have to take note, though, that her skin seemed to be particularly sensitive to the sun. When he did start training her, he would have to run several tests because as much as her quirk wasn’t vampirism, it was starting to look like it had a good number of similarities.

When he had called his mother and asked if she and Hiromi would like to join them, both had been ecstatic. Even the Hatsume and Jiro families had gotten in on the outing, turning it into one big fun fest with everyone. Kyoka had been hesitant at first, but once they had coaxed the competitive side out of her, she had stomped them in beach volleyball. Rose's words echoed in his head, and he could see what she was getting at. He didn’t need to be a hero. He just needed to be their shield.

Himiko’s voice came over the comm system then, informing him that his guest had arrived, and he smiled, telling her to lead him back to his office. While he waited, he informed Dabi to come into his office in a couple of minutes.

When the man stepped into his office, he immediately looked both dazzled and confused. Todoroki Natsuo was particularly tall at just shy of six feet, much like himself. He got his father's muscular build, but that was where the resemblance ended with his white hair and gray eyes. Izuku gestured for the man to sit down before starting. “Well, Mr. Todoroki.”

Natsuo winced before interjecting. “Just Natsuo, please.” Izuku nodded his head, fully understanding why he would want to distance himself from his last name. “I’m sorry then. I’m certain you're wondering why I called you here, Natsuo.”

Natsuo nodded his head. “Not that I’m not ecstatic to be called by one of the biggest pioneers in health technology recently, but I do have to wonder why. I’m just a student. Sure, with me studying health and welfare, the fields overlap. But I’m not exactly a scientist. I don’t think I could help you guys.”

“You’re right, I don’t think you could help us in that way.” Natsuo’s jaw practically dropped at the bluntness of the statement, and Izuku waved his hand, signaling that he wasn’t finished before the choking sounds could turn into protests. “As you stated, you're still a student. That being said, I’ve seen your grades. You are a straight-A student in advanced courses for your year. After we are done here, if you are interested, I would have no problem with bringing you on as an intern. It isn’t exactly what you are planning on doing, I’m sure, but it's something in the field, and knowledge never hurt anyone.”

Natsuo had closed his mouth as he listened and was dumbstruck by the fantastic offer. But, if anything, that had only left him more confused, and he stated as much as he scratched his head. “Not that I don’t find the offer appealing, but why, then, did you call me here?”

Izuku smiled now. “It was actually at the behest of our chief of security.” There was a knock at the door, and Izuku’s smile widened. “Speak of the devil.” Izuku stood from his chair, and Natsuo followed suit. Though, when Izuku moved to open the door, he remained beside his seat. When Izuku did open the door, there were about three counts of Natsuo not recognizing the man standing in the doorway. This was directly followed by him paling and stumbling back into the desk.

“Hey, Nat, long time no see.” Natsuo made a choking sound as Dabi stepped into the office before pointing.

“Toya?! You… You're dead. This isn’t possible.” Natuso’s legs wanted to give out, but he was pressed back against the desk and instead ended up leaning against it.

“I have a lot to explain, but no, Nat. I’m alive.” Natsuo took a shaky step forward, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Gingerly, as if Dabi would disappear if he made any sudden movements, Natsuo reached out to touch him on the shoulder. There was a brief moment after he had when neither brother dared breathe before Natsuo pulled his brother into a bear hug, sobbing deeply.

Izuku smiled and stepped out of his office. He had no doubt that once Natsuo pulled himself back together, he was going to want answers, but for now, he’d give the brothers their privacy. If there was anything he was certain of, it was that meeting a loved one you never thought you’d see again wasn’t easy.

Chapter 18: Chapter #18 | Rough Death

Chapter Text

“We’ll move at eight when their guard changes. If everything goes to plan, then we’ll have the entire facility locked down by eight-thirty. Any questions?” Detective Tsukauchi looked around the room they were using for the briefing and saw no signs of confusion. Which wasn’t terribly surprising, as this briefing was the final in a string of them. Heroes and cops stood around the room, each with their own task assigned to them. Some were picking through the photos of suspects and the location. Others still were studying the whiteboard that had a variety of strategies and notes on it. Aside from Rock Lock, who had shoehorned himself into the investigation, Naomasa had absolute confidence that everyone knew what to do.

“Alright, I’ll say it one last time, we have an undercover operative mixed in with the cult so be careful. The sergeant will finalize your assignments. Let’s get in position.” Naomasa stepped away from the table and towards the door to get moving when he was pulled to the side by Nighteye, who had been leading the investigation on the heroes' side. Tall, lean, and muscular, Nighteye was an interesting man. His dark green hair was neatly smoothed to the side, and he wore a grey suit with golden buttons. Ask anyone, and he gave the impression of the average office man. Anyone who underestimated him because of that would be immensely regretful.

“How reliable is this information?” The man was stoic and cold to most people. In fact, if Naomasa hadn’t worked with the man before and knew how to read him, he would have assumed Nighteye was accusing his information of being shoddy. However, he did know the man, and he also knew that if he was asking this question, rather than just verifying it himself, then he had something pressing in mind.

“It's reliable and accurate. My source is one of the best at obtaining information I’ve ever seen. Why?” Both men were frowning, and a pit was growing in his stomach. He was already feeling on edge because of Midoriya’s insistence about being careful.

“Because something isn’t right. I don’t need to use my quirk to know something has or is going to go wrong. When was the last time your officer checked in?”

Naomasa blanched. “He’s late and you’re not the only one to tell me something’s wrong. My source practically drilled it into me before he let me go. f*ck.”

…

“Are you sure I don’t look strange in this, Izuku?” Midoriya chuckled as he helped Kyoka off of his sleek black bike. She was wearing a crimson formal dress that was tailored perfectly to show off her curves. Although she didn’t have the assets that others like Mei had, she was certainly attractive in her own way. Her styled shoulder-length purple hair would usually clash with the deep rose, but in this case, the two colors provided a contrast emphasized by her brash, yet bashful, personality.

“You look amazing, Kyoka, and don’t worry. These events are generally a speech followed by a whole bunch of small talk, followed by snacking on whatever canapé they have set out, a bit of dancing and more small talk, and a final speech before everyone heads out.” Izuku put out his arm for her as they walked up the path to the veritable mansion they were standing outside of.

Izuku himself wore a simple, black three-piece suit with a matching crimson undershirt and black tie. Though it wasn’t printing through the suit jacket, Izuku was carrying his sidearm in a sleek black leather shoulder harness. He didn’t expect danger at the gathering they had been invited to, but he was uncomfortable if he didn’t have it. It was better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. His hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, as was usual for him, and he wore thin black gloves on his hands that went well with the rest of the outfit.

As the two walked up onto the steps, they were greeted by a grey-haired man in his own suit, his wife, and a woman their own age. Izuku smiled his best business smile as he shook the man's hand. “It is good to finally be able to attend one of the events you have invited me to, Mr. Yaoyorozu. It's a shame that it's been such a busy year, else I would have accepted your invitation sooner.”

The man laughed a hearty, full belly laugh and shook both his head and hand with a vigor belying his age. “That is fine, son. I know how hectic the first year is for a company. I’m just surprised a quirkless has done so well for himself in this day and age. This must be your partner, Hatsume Mei, correct?”

Izuku could feel the annoyance that came from someone pointing out his quirklessness but let it roll over him. He knew how to play the game, and if the media running stories on his quirkless miracle hadn’t gotten to him, an aging man’s offhand comment wasn’t going to make him snap. “No sir, this is a close friend to the two of us, Jiro Kyoka. Mei unfortunately couldn’t make it, as she had several matters to attend to.” Mei simply had no interest in the politics that came from running a company. Luckily for her, he was fairly well versed in them, and Kyoka had volunteered out of curiosity.

“Well, it’s a shame that Ms. Hatsume isn’t with us tonight, but it is wonderful to meet you all the same, Ms. Jiro. This is my wife,” the man gestured to the lady standing beside him, “and my daughter.” The latter of the two waved shyly at them, and Midoriya smiled back at her. “I do believe we have some business to talk about later regarding some raw materials you wish to purchase off of Yaoyorozu Industries, correct?”

Izuku nodded his head but gestured to the people who had shown up after them and were waiting behind on the steps. “Indeed, but I do believe we’ll have time for that later, yes? We shouldn’t keep the rest of your guests waiting.” The older man gave Izuku a sly smile now and gestured them inside. Yes indeed, playing the game was a massive pain in his ass.

…

Shota Aizawa crouched on the rooftop across the road from the old church. The building was aging, and it showed. The belfry had long failed to support the lantern, causing both it and the spire to snap, collapsing down and into one of the corners of the building. The main door had been long since barred shut, but the side door was still operational. At the side door stood one man leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. Either they weren’t expecting company, or their guard wasn’t very attentive.

“Eraser, have you got eyes on?” His comm crackled to life, and the voice of Naomasa came through into his right ear. Aizawa reached into the scarf around his neck with one hand, pulling his goggles up onto his eyes while the other tapped the communicator in his ear.

“Affirmative, guard just switched and the new one isn’t paying attention. Do we move?” It only took a moment before the affirmation came through and all of the teams moved to their assigned locations. As soon as the door guard was within attacking range, Aizawa immediately activated his quirk and threw out the bindings of his scarf to wrap around the man. Naomasa was close behind and was the first to realize something wasn’t right with the man.

“Uh. Did you knock him out, Eraser? His head is rolling a bit much for… sh*t EVERYONE GET DOWN.” The man began to hiss and expand before, a second later, he exploded in a million directions.

…

“Midoriya, right?” A calm, curious voice came from behind him, and Izuku turned away from the group he and Kyoka were mingling with to find the daughter of their illustrious hosts speaking to him.

The gathering had thus far gone as expected. They had been approached by several businessmen and women in hopes of ingratiating themselves with Moonlit Industries, danced a little, ate a few canapés from the variety of tables, and generally just played politics with the business leaders of Japan. Though Izuku noted that several of the more quirkist leaders wouldn’t come within twenty feet of him and maintained their distance on the opposite side of the rather large ballroom.

The room itself Izuku had to admit was nice, if not a bit gaudy for his tastes. While it was true that his mother had never particularly struggled to make ends meet with her job and the money his father had sent home, he still didn’t consider them rich growing up. He also didn’t see any point in spending money on a giant home, of which you’ll never see half of in a week. But, he supposed, to each their own. If the Yaoyorozu family felt the need for a mansion and a house staff, then who was he to tell them otherwise? It just certainly wasn’t his cup of tea.

Izuku smiled and reached out to shake the hand of the woman now standing across from him. “Indeed, Miss Yaoyorozu. Midoriya Izuku. How can I help you?”

The woman blushed lightly, shaking his hand. “Just Momo is fine. My last name is a bit of a mouthful. Besides, we’re the same age, after all. What got you on Father's radar? It seemed like he knew of you pretty well.”

Izuku quirked an eyebrow at her and scratched the back of his neck. “Alright then, Momo. You can just call me Izuku then. Also, don’t tell me you live in this house and don’t know what my partner and I have done… Wait. That sounds arrogant, and I’m sorry for that. I’m just surprised, is all. My partner and I founded Moonlit Industries around a year ago after we patented and began licensing our fusion reactor designs.”

Momo’s eyes blew wide and her expression quickly morphed into apologetic shock. “That was you?! I’ve read all about that, as well as your recent creations! The biogel that is being used in Musutafu General is revolutionary, and hospitals all over Japan are already clamoring to be able to use it. Not to mention the regenerative biosteel that your partner recently put in for the patent for... “

Yaoyorozu quickly snapped her mouth shut when Izuku began to laugh and then flushed when she realized that she had been rambling. “I’m so sorry. I just thought that it must be so nice to already be doing what you want to do at our age and you're both so smart to come up with the things you create and I find your guys’ work fascinating and oh god I’m doing it again…” Izuku frantically waved his hands in front of him, trying to get the now scarlet Momo’s attention as he caught his breath.

“No no no. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I was just caught off guard. You sure know your stuff about Moonlit Industries. Mei and I only filed the patent for the biosteel last week. We’ve not even gotten the chance to reveal it yet, since it's mainly a component for a couple of our projects. You are wrong about us doing what we want, though. I’m planning on getting my hero license, and Mei is wanting to focus on support items. We just can’t do that without being eighteen due to the laws governing both. No workaround or loophole for those laws, sadly.”

Kyoka, who had come up beside Izuku, linked her arm with his again, smiling. “I plan on becoming a hero, and he’s been a huge help in training me. I feel a lot more confident that I’ll be able to pass whatever test it takes to get in.”

Momo practically began vibrating in place when he talked about their plans to get hero licenses and started rambling again about her own plans to do the same. Izuku gestured for them to take a walk so that they could get some fresh air while the three discussed their college plans.

…

Aizawa’s ears were ringing and his vision was swimming from his place on his back in the church courtyard. Human goop was still raining down on them, and at that moment, he would have sworn that he would never be able to get the smell of iron off of him. As he pulled himself up to his knees, he could see that the others who had been in the courtyard hadn’t fared much better. Several were bleeding from where bone splinters had speared them or a molar had impacted them like a bullet. Vaguely he could hear Tsukauchi calling for everyone's status, and he coughed before raising his hand and yelling out that he was good.

It wasn’t seconds before another one of the teams was running into the courtyard and carrying off the wounded. “What the hell happened?” Aizawa recognized the voice as Detective Tamakawa and it wasn’t long before Tsukauchi himself was barking orders into his communicator, warning the other teams to be on the watch for suicide bombers.

Aizawa could tell Tsukauchi was seriously pissed because he drew his weapon before signaling the rest of them that weren’t wounded to stack up on the door. Once they had, Naomasa kicked in the door and went in with his flashlight in his left hand, bracing his handgun in his right. The main hall of the church was among one of the creepier things that the officers had seen. Human skulls lined the walls and windows, alongside skulls that were most certainly not human and looked like no animal they had ever seen. White cloth floated in each of the pews, as if being worn by invisible people, and the altar was covered in blood.

Left and right they swept and cleared the rooms of the church before breaching the inner sanctum. Tied to a chair in the middle was their undercover officer and, for the briefest of moments, Aizawa was shocked into inaction. The same man that had just exploded all over them outside was standing behind their officer with a blade raised. There was a crack, and a single hole appeared between the man's eyes. The body dropped to the ground before dissolving into a disgusting human meat paste that leaked across the floor. Smoke wisped off the end of Tsukauchi’s barrel as he gritted his teeth.

“Oh, Jesus f*ck.” One of the officers that had followed them into the room immediately turned back around through the door and began to throw up, and it wasn’t hard to see why. Their officer had been cut to ribbons. Strips had been sliced away from his body for hours from where he was tied to the chair. The legs, arms, chest, and lower back of the man had all been cut, sliced, and stripped of their skin. His face was barely recognizable from the beating he had received, and his body was covered in sickly bruises that contrasted the red that trickled from all of the incisions. But by far the worst was the officer's upper back. His back had been sliced open and the man had been in the process of breaking his ribs and twisting them up and out of his back, giving them the appearance of wings.

Tsukauchi reached forward, pale, and placed his fingers on the officer's neck. Aizawa watched his eyes go wide in shock as he choked out his words. “He’s alive. Oh god, he’s alive.”

Aizawa stepped forward. If the man was still alive, there was still a chance. “We need to get him to a hospital.” Naomasa looked at him now, slowly coming out of his shock and shaking his head vigorously.

“He won’t make it that far, and a hospital wouldn’t be able to do anything for him.” Aizawa was just about to argue that they had to do something when Tsukauchi gestured for him to help. “We need to get him to Midoriya. I know what you're going to say, but do you know anyone else that could possibly pull some kind of bullsh*t miracle out of a hat? Because that's what he needs.”

Aizawa simply stared deep into his horrified eyes for a moment before coming to a grudging agreement. They were on the outskirts of the city, and if anyone was going to be able to practically bring a man back from the brink of death within five miles of them, it was going to be Midoriya.

…

The three teenagers were sitting at a small table in a gazebo. Laughter filled the air as they told funny stories and made jokes about the future. The scent of tea filled the space, as well as the warm cinnamon smell of cookies.

“So what school are you planning on applying for, Momo? If you're wanting to be a hero and all. Oh! And what is your quirk?” Kyoka had no issues making quick friends of the raven-haired girl. Not that Kyoka would admit it, but she certainly wasn’t hard on the eyes, either. The dress the woman was wearing flowed around her and incidentally gave a fair view of her breasts. Which, Jiro noted with a bit of envy, could rival Mei’s.

Before Momo could answer, Izuku stiffened in his seat. He gave them both a rigid smile and stood, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He excused himself to take an absolutely necessary phone call, but Kyoka knew better. She knew about the communicators he and Mei had implanted just under their ears. She also knew that he wasn’t taking a phone call but was responding to whatever was being said over his comms.

Izuku stepped back to the table with a serious expression and placed his phone back into his jacket's inner left pocket. “I’m sorry, Momo, but it looks like we’ll have to excuse ourselves. There is an emergency back at the facility that I need to attend to. Please tell your father that I’m sorry for taking off like this, and we’ll have to discuss our business another time. Come on, Kyoka.”

Izuku’s pace started off normal as they made their way back to his bike, but by the time they had gotten there, they were at what was practically a dead sprint, leaving Kyoka very happy that she had worn her flats rather than heels. They both hopped onto his bike as soon as they got to it, and immediately Izuku gunned the throttle, sending them rocketing off towards their location. “What is going on, Izuku? What’s the big emergency?”

Kyoka was practically yelling over the wind whipping around Izuku as the bike bolted down roads, and he yelled back when he responded. “The damn raid I helped plan went wrong like I suspected it would. The officer was apparently mangled, and Nao is bringing him to me because he’s in such bad condition.” She really needed to have Izuku give her one of the communicators. Her hand tingled where the RFID chip sat, and she debated whether she really wanted to get another injection.

“Are you going to do the same thing to him that you had to do to Dabi?” Izuku’s already deep frown somehow got deeper, and his eyes went dark.

“Gods, I hope it doesn’t come to that. If he’s that far gone, it may be kinder to let him die.”

…

Tsukauchi’s car practically screeched to a stop outside of the loading bays of Moonlit Industries. When he had called ahead, a calm female voice had told him to head around so that they could get their officer upstairs.

As he was stepping out of his vehicle, Izuku was already rushing forward with a stretcher. From the look of him, Naomasa surmised that he had been out when he had called ahead. He was in his business attire and still had his shoulder holster on. The only thing that was missing was the jacket that would have hidden the sidearm, so Izuku must have gotten there just before them.

Izuku took one look at the officer and cursed. Reaching in, he delicately picked him up around his back and placed him on his side on the stretcher. “Kyoka, I need you to take them up to the common area to wait. I need to get to work as quickly as possible.”

Nighteye had come along with them when he had found out they were rushing the undercover officer somewhere. He had been very vocal about how it was a waste of time, as the man was already on death's door, if they weren’t even going to a hospital. He might as well be a dead man with the distance they were from a hospital. The detective wouldn’t accept that and rushed him out here all the same.

It was at this point that Sir Nighteye decided to step forward, getting ready to vocalize his complaints that the man was dead, because Izuku wasn’t even a real doctor. He hadn’t vocalized even the first five words when he froze. The teenager's gaze caught him. It was as cold as ice and vicious. “If you think this is such a waste of time, then you shouldn’t have come. If you open your mouth again or try to stop me in any way, Sasaki Mirai, I will have you escorted from this facility. Now stop wasting my time. I have work to do.”

…

It was a grueling two hours before Izuku stepped into the common room of the facility. His sleeves were rolled up and the black and red of his suit had been stained crimson. His hair was coming loose from its ponytail, and he had streaks of blood still staining his face and hair from where he had run his hands across and through. Though it was evident that he had done his best to clean it off, else there would be far more.

Detective Tsukauchi stood immediately when Izuku entered the room, as he had been watching the door. Everyone else followed quickly, waiting for what they dreaded to be a forlorn conclusion. Izuku sighed and rubbed at the dark circles that had formed around his eyes before speaking. “He’s stable. It was touch and go for a while, and that isn’t to say he’s out of the danger zone yet, but for now he’s stable. I made a call over to Musutafu General, as they prototype a number of our inventions, and asked them to prepare a space in their ICU. When he makes it through the night, we’ll be moving him there.”

Izuku took the water bottle that Mei handed him thankfully and took a drink before sitting down stiffly into one of the room's chairs. “What the hell happened, Nao? Even once he heals, he probably won’t be coming back to the force. If he does, then he has a will of steel. It isn’t just the physical issues, but there are serious psychological effects that come from torture. I can heal his body, but I can’t heal his mind.”

Naomasa sunk back into his seat in relief, and the tension that was in the air seemed to ebb away into sheer respite now that the danger had passed. “I don’t know. Your information was good and thorough the day the members were there. When we went to perform the raid, however, we were confronted with a suicide bomber, a duplicate of the suicide bomber who turned into a meat soup when I shot him, and our undercover operative mangled beyond recognition. I got a report from the heroes still on the scene that they discovered a tunnel that was evidently used to move everyone and everything out before the raid.”

Nighteye jerked when Naomasa said your information, and Izuku shook his head. “Nao, this was beyond even my expectations. Abductions and disappearances are one thing. But performing lingchi and turning him into a blood eagle? I’m afraid I was right before. These guys are far more dangerous than we gave them credit for, and this is going to get ugly.”

…

It didn’t take long before the detective, the heroes, and Kyoka were excusing themselves and Izuku was seeing them out the door. To his surprise, Nighteye stopped to speak with Izuku and bowed to the teenager. “I am sorry for the way I acted. Tensions were high, and I didn’t take the time to find out who you were. I didn’t realize you were our source, and I most certainly didn’t realize you were capable in the medical field.”

Izuku sighed and shook his head. “And I’m sorry that I threatened to have you removed. Like you said, tensions were high. Let's just forget it, yeah?” Nighteye left and Izuku leaned back against the front doors and sighed, looking at the clock in the corner of his vision that said eleven twenty-seven.

“Long day, boss?” Izuku looked over to find Dabi leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette that he’d evidently lit with his quirk if the blue glow was any indication.

Izuku looked from Dabi, down to his blood-stained clothing, back to Dabi, and couldn’t do anything but laugh. “Oh yeah. You can say that. You know that isn’t a great habit, right?”

Dabi shrugged. “Yeah, it's a habit I picked up to relieve both stress and pain. I've yet to kick it, but I guess it doesn’t really matter since I regenerate now.” Izuku acknowledged that. Dabi had a point, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t had squad members in the past with the same mentality.

Izuku. We have another situation. Someone is closing on Kyoka. It looks like they are planning on attacking her.

“Oh, motherf*cker.” Dabi quirked his eyebrow and pointed to himself while taking a drag on his cigarette, making Izuku snort despite the situation. “No, not you. The day just got longer though. With me, we’re going to deal with a problem that just moved from contain to eliminate.”

…

Kyoka would be the first to admit that she hadn’t expected the night to end as it had. She hadn’t cared for the party, but then again, Izuku didn’t care much for them, either. He only went because Mei wouldn’t, and it was an unfortunate necessity to deal with. Izuku had been hot in that three-piece suit and he had thought that she looked good, too. The idea that he found her attractive made Kyoka feel all tingly inside.

When he had gone from gentle and sly businessman to commanding man in charge barking orders, well, she wasn’t going to deny how she became mildly distracted from the way his eyes glowed when he threatened Sir Nighteye, or how much the predator in him turned her on at times.

She was lost in her thoughts as she walked down the sidewalk. A lot had happened that wasn’t even Izuku related. She had gotten the number of an heiress, for god’s sake. When she had met Izuku for the first time, never in her wildest dreams did she think that she was going to meet so many heroes or people at the top of their fields.

So distracted was she by her thoughts that she never saw the two by four come swinging out of the alleyway ahead of her before she was knocked to the ground, groaning and holding her head.

She tried to crawl away, but her vision was swimming and suddenly there was a weight on top of her. The man was breathing heavily, saying her name over and over again. Kyoka, Kyoka, Kyoka. He didn’t stop as he began to try to hike her dress up and tear at her clothing. She realized what was happening then and fought, even if her head was jumbled from the blow.

She kicked, she clawed, she screamed. But the man was so much bigger than her and was already pinning her against the ground with his weight. She was about to scream again when he bashed her head off the ground, and her vision began spinning wildly. She had to get away. She could feel the desperation building, and she couldn’t think straight. She didn’t want this, she didn’t want this. There was a soft click and a growl before suddenly the alleyway was bathed in an ice-cold fury that froze the man to his bones.

The man stumbled back off of her, and she desperately tried to crawl away before she found herself in a warm embrace and a gentle cooing that she recognized as Mei’s. She couldn’t help it, she was safe. Izuku was there and she was safe. She curled into Mei’s shoulder and cried.

“Mei, take Kyoka back to the facility and take care of her. She has a concussion, several lacerations, and her nose is broken. I’ll deal with this.” Mei nodded and picked Kyoka up in her arms. While it was slightly awkward height wise, as Mei was only an inch taller, she couldn’t be more glad than she was at that moment that Izuku had convinced her to do additional weight training along with the combat training. The other reason she wanted out of the alley was that she had never before seen Izuku this utterly pissed. She knew for certain that the man wasn’t going to be making it out of that alleyway.

…

The moment Mei had taken Kyoka out of the alley, Izuku stopped trying to restrain his anger. He slammed his dress shoe into the gut of the man, sending him into the brick wall and violently vomiting his last meal mixed with the blood of at least one ruptured organ.

“I warned you. You can target me all you want, Tajima, and I would have no issue with it. But you targeted one of mine. You tried to touch what was mine.” Izuku stalked over to the man and slammed his foot down onto the man's hand. The crunch of dozens of little bones echoed through the alley, and the blood-curdling scream that followed could have chilled the spines of the dead. Izuku brought his foot down on the man's elbow next, and then on his shoulder, leaving his arm dangling out of its socket.

Each time the man screamed and whimpered, begging for mercy, begging for his life, and each time he did, Izuku broke a new part of him. Twisted a new part until there was the sickening sound of tearing muscle and shattering bone. Izuku had scared Dabi before, and Dabi knew to have a healthy respect for what his boss could do. But this made everything he had ever seen out of him look like child's play. The horrifying thought occurred to him that he hadn’t ever seen Midoriya furious. He had only ever seen him at varying levels of annoyance.

Izuku’s eyes glowed a bright viridian, practically illuminating the darkness of the alleyway like demonic pits of greek fire. His incisors had grown in his mouth, and he was making sounds no human should have been capable of making. A peal of barking laughter that was almost ecstatic erupted from him, such that one would expect from an animal caged far too long. When Izuku turned his gaze back to Dabi, he had a psychotic smile that went from ear to ear, despite the man's blood that was now spattered up his body, face, and hands.

When he spoke, it was like nails grating against a chalkboard. A deep sound that resonated in the primal part of the brain, making your instincts scream at you to run as far and as fast as you could. “Hey Dabi, tell me. Is your quirk's name just for show?” Dabi could do nothing but shake his head. He very well could cremate a body. Especially since his flames could now burn brighter, hotter, and without long term repercussion. Izuku smiled happily now, and Dabi decided that was even scarier.

Izuku turned back to the man who had been systematically broken at his joints before having parts of his skin practically flayed off of him by Izuku’s bare hands. He managed to gurgle out several words, a choked, pained sound. “You won’t get away with this. Someone would have reported the noise. A hero will be coming here right now.”

Izuku’s smile morphed back into an animalistic one now as he stared down at the man. “Oh no, I’ve spent months buying up the buildings around our headquarters and filling them with people I can trust. They won’t report anything, because they are quite used to the noise of our experiments.” Izuku pulled his sidearm once again from where he had holstered it to begin breaking the man. “Smile, you son of a bitch.”

There were several quick reports as the sidearm fired a bullet into his head and two into his heart. Izuku turned, then, holstering his sidearm and taking several steps away from the body before closing his eyes. It took several moments of ragged breathing before Izuku opened his eyes, now back to normal, and gave Dabi a pained smile. In a soft voice, practically a whisper compared to before, he said, “I’m sorry that you had to see that, Dabi. I really just can’t stand rapists, especially when they touch one of my own. He’s all yours now.” Dabi decided that the contented smile Izuku wore after he effectively turned a man into human plaster was the scariest yet.

Chapter 19: Chapter #19 | Silent Judgement

Chapter Text

Izuku stepped into the lobby of Moonlit Industries to find a very tired looking Mei resting her head against the reception desk. He didn’t even have to ask the question on both his and Dabi’s minds before she was looking at the two of them and speaking. “Kyoka was pretty messed up. I cleaned her up, stitched up her lacerations, set her nose, and sedated her. She’s asleep right now in the one-oh-four since it's spare. Himiko moved over from one-oh-five for the night to keep an eye on her. Has the bastard been dealt with?”

Mei didn’t need the confirmation. She could see clear as day the blood drenching Izuku. Blood that hadn’t come from the undercover officer. She could smell the soot and ash on the two, as well, so that answered where the body went. But she still wanted to hear it, wanted to hear that the bastard had been dealt with the way he should be dealt with. It had taken a while for Mei to get used to having Kyoka around, as she wasn’t an engineer like them. But even she had to admit that she had grown to be family.

Dabi nodded his head slowly, wary that Izuku’s bloodlust seemed to be rubbing off onto his partner. “Yeah, gearhead. Nothing left of him now, but Midoriya didn’t let him get away with it.” She stared for a long moment into his eyes before letting out a breath that she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding. She tossed Izuku his phone before stepping towards the doors that led deeper into the facility.

“You made the call to put him at contain rather than eliminate when you found him to be lurking around Don’t Fret. You get to make the call to her parents.” Izuku sighed and nodded. Yeah, he would make the call, even if it was going to be an unpleasant one.

“What does she mean ‘put him at contain,’ boss? You said it before, as well. He moved from contain to eliminate.” Izuku glanced over to Dabi before peering back at his phone, looking for the Jiros’ contact information.

“I run on a DCE protocol in both combat zones and in the information I gather. Deescalate, contain, eliminate. I gave Tajima a warning to stay away from mine about a year and some change back after he had followed Kyoka and myself to her home. Since then, he hasn’t done anything other than occasionally follow her around. As such, I deemed the situation contained. I was evidently wrong. I don’t know as of yet what triggered the escalation in his behavior, and frankly? I don’t care. Once the situation has moved past containment, I’ll eliminate it without hesitation. I won’t be making that mistake again. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to make a phone call. You go ahead and clock out for the day, Dabi. I won’t be sleeping tonight.”

Dabi nodded his head and was more than happy to get some sleep. His boss may have fixed up his body and given him some upgrades, but that didn’t mean that he had the unending well of energy that Midoriya seemed to have. As he walked deeper into the facility, he contemplated Midoriya's DCE system and wondered. Just how many people sat on the knife's edge of elimination and would never know it?

…

It was just past midnight when both of the Jiros came barging through the front doors of Moonlit Industries, wearing panic on their faces. Izuku wasn’t surprised when Kyotoku was the first to speak, nor was he surprised with the sheer amount of alarm and downright fear that the man was acting with. “Where is she?! Where is my baby girl?!”

Izuku wanted to sigh right then, because he knew this was going to be painful for them to hear. But he knew if he did, he would only set them more on edge than they already were. “As I said on the phone, there has been a bit of an incident-”

“You didn’t say much of anything on the phone. You just told us that something had happened and that we needed to get down here quickly. What happened, where is our daughter, wh-” Luckily for Izuku, before he could be overwhelmed by the frantic father figure, Kyoka’s mother stepped up.

It was fairly evident that Mika Jiro was the more sensible of the two at this moment. She was clearly panicked but was, thankfully, retaining her senses and not giving in to the fear like her husband was. “Let Izuku explain, Kyotoku. I’m sure that if he’s called us down here at midnight, then it isn’t something we would want to be explained on the phone.”

Izuku gave a rueful smile to Mika before thanking her and continuing with his explanation. “Thank you, Mrs. Jiro. You’re quite right, this isn’t something you should hear over the phone. Around eleven-thirty, my head of security and I were alerted by our security system that there was a man following Kyoka with what seemed to be the intent to attack her. As such, we both took off running to intercept. Unfortunately, we didn’t make it in time to stop the attack.” Izuku wasn’t going to tell them that the shattered concrete outside had been from them taking off at full speed, but all the same, both parents sucked in a breath as he continued. “We did, however, get there in time to stop your employee, Tajima Toru, from doing anything more than just hitting her.”

Izuku let the implications of that sink in for the parents. It was a lot to process in one go. He could tell when it had sunk in, as both parents went deathly white as the blood leached out of them. Before they could start asking questions, Izuku continued with the information dump, knowing it was better to get it all out in one go.

“Before I say anything else, let me say that she is alright physically. She has a concussion, several stitches, and a broken nose. Besides that, though, she has no physical injuries. I stress the word physical because this is going to be hard on her mentally. She is trying to be a hero, and yet she was placed in such a situation where she had to be rescued a second time. Kyoka is going to need you two when she wakes up.”

Kyotoku took a step forward and was going to take another towards Izuku when Mika placed a hand on his arm to hold him back. “You call that alright physically?! What the f*ck is wrong with you?”

Izuku frowned now, because clearly it hadn’t sunken in as deeply as he’d hoped. “Yes, I do. Compared to what could have happened to her, yes. She is alright physically.”

“What happened to Tajima?” Izuku looked now to Mika as she spoke to him. Her eyes were hard, her fear having morphed into fury. “We terminated his employment last week because he was violating several rules. Do we need to worry about him again?”

Ah. There’s the catalyst. She doesn’t need to know that, though. Izuku’s smile went from rueful to cold and sharp. “Oh no, Mr. and Mrs. Jiro. You won’t need to worry about him ever again. I’ve made sure of that.” The smile and tone sent chills up their spine. They had thought Kyoka had been joking when she had told them Izuku could be scary occasionally. Now they understood wholeheartedly what she had meant. “You’ll find Kyoka asleep in apartment one-o-four on the top floor. You’re all welcome to stay as long as she needs.”

…

It had taken a week for Kyoka to heal and go home, and though she bore no physical signs from the attack besides the new scar gracing her lips, she clearly wasn’t alright mentally. She had tried to tell him she was fine, but he knew better than anyone the signs of trauma. He leaned back in his desk chair as he thought about it. He spent most of his nights here in his office, parsing through paperwork and other administrative tasks that needed to be handled, but tonight it seemed he had other issues pressing on his mind. They had eleven months until the entry exams for U.A University, and Mei had only just gotten through the worst of the attack on their headquarters.

If Kyoka was going to be a hero, then he’d have to take a more active role in her recovery. Not that he minded, of course, but he’d have to be careful. These things tended to heal the best with time and support. Rushing it could cause the opposite of what they wanted. Mei had been right when it came to the wall thickness. It was an oversight. He should have had them soundproofed. Kyoka had insisted a couple days into her stay that they get back to their training regime, but Izuku had known that would have been disastrous. She was still jerking when people made unexpected movements around her, and though Izuku doubted she noticed it, her focus wasn’t there at all. He had told her to rest for the rest of the month before they got back to it, and Izuku could only hope that she would be ready to get back to training when it was time for it.

Izuku stood up with a snap out of his desk chair, bringing his weapon out of its holster in one swift movement to point out across his office. It took only a few moments for Phoenix to speak to him. “Izuku? What’s wrong? There is nothing there, and I’m not picking anything up on the sensors.” He grimaced, because that meant the sensors weren’t picking up what he was sensing, and that meant only one thing he could think of.

“Enough toying around. If you want to have a conversation, then come on out. Otherwise, get the f*ck out of this facility.” Izuku was beginning to get annoyed now. It was one thing to barge into their headquarters. It was another entirely to both barge in and be impolite when you did it. Seconds stretched into tens of seconds before finally, a purple swirl appeared in the middle of the room and all hell broke loose with their alarm system. An ear-splitting klaxon ripped through the facility and the defense systems engaged.

Izuku wasn’t worried about Mei and Himiko, as Phoenix reported to him that they had reached the panic room on the residential floor and she had full control of the thirty-millimeter turrets around the facility. He did decide he would have to bump the automaton project up on priority, though, if they were going to keep having these kinds of incidents. Dabi slammed the door open, blue flames already creeping up his arms, as one large man stepped out of the purple swirl, the mist coalescing into a person.

The purple mist of a man was standing behind the bigger man, so Izuku made the assessment of which was in charge. The moment he focused his attention fully on the boss, there were several details he took in. He was large, even to Izuku who had now reached six foot two. If he had to guess, the man was about seven-six, and while he wasn’t huge, he gave the impression of power both with his demeanor and his presence. Both men wore well-tailored suits that, had the circ*mstances been different, Izuku might have complimented them on. It was when Izuku took in the man's face, or lack thereof, that he tsked his tongue, cursing in his head. He recognized the man from the whispers of the underground.

He put his sidearm back into its holster and sat down with a glare on his face. Phoenix, Dabi. Stand down. There isn’t anything you can do about this one, and you would just get in my way. Dabi, go get Mei and Himiko out of here just in case. Dabi jerked. It was the first time Izuku had chosen to speak to him through his implants, but he quickly realized the gravity of the situation. As he moved away from the door and quickly towards the stairs, Izuku spoke. “And to whom do I credit the displeasure of a visit from the boogeyman of the underground? All for One.”

…

“I see that you know who I am, young man. I must say that I am surprised you would be so blunt with me.” The large man had taken one of the seats across from Izuku and crossed his hands on his left leg after laying it across his right. “But we can still have some decorum, no?”

Izuku narrowed his eyes, wanting to curse. This was going to be a massive pain in his ass. “If you wanted decorum, then you should have made an appointment like a normal person rather than use,” Izuku gestured to the well dressed purple mist, “a Church of Clarity teleporter. Though now that I see you together, I suspect he’s been more of a go-between.”

Though he couldn’t see All for One's eyes, he could certainly read his body language, and it was displeased when he spoke of the CoC. “Yes, a failed experiment that has gotten very out of hand. I would prefer it if you didn’t associate Kurogiri and me with them. I suppose you are correct, though, so I’ll get to the point. You have something that is of interest to me. Or, should I say, several pieces of technology that you and your partner are working on.”

“Please, go on. Because if you are simply requesting them, then you can leave.” Izuku hadn’t stopped glaring at the two men, and the tension in the room was rising. The atmosphere was suffocating with pressure, and if it had been physical, then sparks would have rained down around the room.

All for One chuckled. He had to admit that he liked the spirit of this one, even if he wasn’t crazy about someone not knowing their place. “Of course I’m not asking for something without compensation. You are quirkless, are you not? How would you like a quirk of your very own? Or you could even join us. The League of Villains would always welcome someone as brilliant as yourself.”

Izuku sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back, as if giving it a moment's thought, before smiling. While All for One had seen the sheer animosity before and was able to keep from flinching, Kurogiri was not, and he involuntarily took a step back. “I must say, had you come to me only a couple years ago with that offer? I may have just taken you up on it. But I have to say, I have no interest whatsoever in having a quirk now. I’ve made peace with my quirklessness. I’ve found a better solution, after all. As for your offer to join you, well, I’m going to have to decline. While I may not have any love for most heroes, I have absolutely no love for men like yourself who would inflict suffering on the innocent just for your own gain. I'm sorry but I am very busy and if that was your proposal then the both of you can show yourselves out the way you came in.”

All for One glared now at Izuku, and if looks could kill, then they both would have been dead by this point. “You misunderstand. That is the easy, friendly way of doing things. If it comes to it, I could kill you and your partner right now and take what I want.” All for One may have been okay with the slightly crazy energy before, but even he could feel the pressure that was emanating from the boy now. The sheer bloodlust and fury on their own would have been enough to startle him in their amounts, but the presence he felt from the child now was on par with All Might in his prime.

Izuku’s eyes were glowing again as he growled his words at All for One. “Lupus non timet canem latrantem. You are right, this is the easy way of doing things. You may be able to harm me, as I don’t have my equipment, but do you really think that you’ll get out of it unscathed, Muninn Shigaraki?” It was All for One's turn to jerk now. The boy, no, the beast that sat in front of him spoke his real name that should have been lost with time with such ease that it was no guess. A name he had believed removed from all sources. The shadows in the room seemed to darken as All for One was locked into those pits of viridian fire, and he could feel the eyes of a predator on him like he hadn’t felt for a very long time.

“Or do you think that I don’t recognize a respirator when I see one? Even if it is a fancy one made to look like a creepy-ass skull mask. Even if you could kill me and get away, do you think the heroes wouldn’t come in time? Wouldn’t figure it out? That the government watching this facility wouldn't have something to say? You would so easily violate the treaties by attacking a Japanese asset? No, you are a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them, Shigaraki. You can’t afford that. Let me make something clear for you right now, though. I have no interest in the feud you have going with the number one for some reason. I don’t even particularly care why. But if you come after one of my own? I will make your life a living hell. I don’t have the qualms that normal heroes have. I will hunt and kill anyone and everyone that chooses to associate with you. I wonder. How will you explain to Tomura in Hell why his last moments were him choking on his own blood. Make an appointment like a normal person, and come with a proper business deal. For now however, last warning before I get impolite. Get out of my office.”

All for One could see now the danger that was in front of him. This was no mere boy, and he would be damned if he was quirkless. His eyes glowed like jade fire while his snarling sounded like the growl of a panther. His incisors had grown in his mouth as he got angrier, and the wood of the desk was cracking with the pressure Midoriya was placing on it with his hands. The grim reaper's blade was wrapping around everyone's throats and it would seem he'd need to leave before this thing decided to take his head off. “How disappointing. I suppose we’ll have to see again in the future which of us will get what they want. Won’t we? Kurogiri, we’re leaving.”

…

It took Izuku far longer to calm himself than he would have liked. This was the second time this month someone had dared threaten those around him. He hadn’t had problems like this controlling his anger since he first got spliced. His claw had been able to take care of themselves. Had been able to defend one another. Now someone dared to threaten the members that couldn’t? It would appear that even he had some self-control training to do. He couldn’t afford to go off on every villain that took a swing at Kyoka in the future.

Izuku reached up to his ear, tapping the communicator under it and connecting to Mei and Dabi. “We’re clear. But we need to talk.”

…

Izuku weaved left and right between the steady, controlled swings that Kyoka sent his way. Up until this point, he hadn’t swung back, as he was still testing her focus. But he needed to know if she was up for this. She swung at him fast with several quick jabs that he was quick to step out of. And when she brought her last blow out towards him in a full-powered punch of where she believed he would be, he sidestepped, rotating his body and using the centripetal force to swing the back of his fist around towards her face.

He stopped just before hitting her but could already see the effect. She stumbled back, gasping for breath, her eyes clouded. She stumbled and fell on her rear as she struggled to pull herself together. Izuku simply wrapped her up in his arms and cooed. “You’re fine, Kyoka. It's fine, there is plenty of time. Focus on my breathing now, deep breaths.”

When she had calmed down enough that she wasn’t panicking, she teared up again out of frustration. “God damn it!” She punched the padded floor before continuing. “No, Izuku, it's not okay. I’ve been training for over a year with you and I still got my ass handed to me and had to be rescued. If that happened in the field, I would be dead or would have endangered someone else.”

“Kyoka, you just turned eighteen, and you may have combat training, but you have absolutely no field training. You can’t be expected to be able to deal with crisis situations yet. No one is judging you, and it could have happened to anyone.”

“It never would have happened to you or Dabi.” She spit the words back bitterly at Izuku, but he couldn’t blame her. She was right. It wouldn’t have happened to either of them, but Dabi had been surviving for a long time and Izuku was barely human. It wasn’t a fair comparison her brain was providing her. She had a look on her face of revelation, though, and he didn’t like where she was going with that train of thought.

“That's it! How could I have been so blind?” Izuku simply started shaking his head, trying to cut her off there, but she just plowed right over him. “You just need to do what you did to Dabi, to me. He got way stronger after you did whatever it was that you did. He can even land the occasional blow on you when he spars with you.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Kyoka shot him a look that was mixed with betrayal and hurt. “Dabi has years of field experience that you don’t. You’ll get there eventually. It's all a matter of time.”

“Please, Izuku.” She grabbed onto his shoulders and shook him. “I won’t screw up again, and you wouldn’t have to worry about me getting into trouble.”

“I don’t worry about you getting into trouble, because I know that by the time we’re through U.A. that you’ll have the field experience to handle yourself. You didn’t screw up, Kyoka. You did nothing wrong. You were simply the victim of a crazy lunatic who ambushed you.”

“And what if I get ambushed again, huh? If you fix me, then I’ll be able to deal with the situation.” Kyoka had barely gotten the words out when Izuku shouted, and she jerked, fear trying to bubble up in her gut as she shoved the feeling down.

“NO.” Izuku winced when he heard how that came out and once again softened his voice. “I’m sorry, Kyoka. I didn’t mean to yell. You don’t know what you’re asking me to do to you. You aren’t aware of what you are trying to give up. I don’t need to fix you because there is nothing wrong with you. Please see that.” Izuku sighed and reached up, wrapping his hands around Kyoka’s on his shoulders. “I don’t need to tell you to keep this a secret, Kyoka, but I rewrote our genomes. We aren’t human, Kyoka. Please don’t ask me to chip away at your humanity for the wrong reasons.”

Kyoka’s eyes widened as she realized what Izuku was telling her. “How much?” She choked the words out. Izuku looked at her quizzically before she clarified. “How much of yourself did you alter.”

Izuku grimaced and looked away from Kyoka’s questioning, curious, horrified stare. “Dabi’s genome is still ninety-six percent human. He’s the least altered out of everyone I’ve worked on.”

“Izuku. That’s not what I asked.” Izuku shook his head, taking a step away from her and to one of the many weapon racks around the room.

“It doesn’t matter. But I’ll make you a deal. We have just over ten months until the entrance exams. I’ll start training you in weapons, though it is a bit early. We’ll revisit this topic after you’ve made it into the hero course, and if you still feel like you need it, then and only then will we speak of this again.”

…

Izuku was walking back from their local grocer with the ingredients he would need to make their dinner. Himiko had surprised them by wanting to try jambalaya, and he was more than happy to oblige, as Cajun was a favorite of his. That being said, while they’d already had the shrimp and rice, he’d still had to go get sausage and a couple spices.

He was walking back to the headquarters and through an underpass, checking off items in his head to make sure that he’d gotten everything, when his instincts started screaming at him. Izuku threw himself forward into a roll and sprung up into a crouch just in time to witness the manhole cover he had just been over fire out of its slot like an explosion had gone off.

The gurgling sound of liquid trying to form words was enough to disgust anyone. “Hmm, a large invisibility cloak. I don’t have time to find someone else with that freak behind me. Just behave and let me control you for a bit, eh?” As the sludge lunged at Izuku, he rattled off ideas in his head, time seeming to slow down. Knife? Can’t see any vitals in the dark of this tunnel. Gun? Same issue. Brute force dispersal of liquid? Not elegant but the best solution at the moment. Izuku placed one hand out, sliding into a low stance as he prepared to scatter the liquid that was charging towards him. Both sides froze in place when a boisterous laugh began to echo from the manhole cover.

“Don’t worry, young man! I’m here!” Izuku had time to process that it was All Might that had come out of the hole when he realized his fist was co*cked back. Oh hell, doesn’t he realize that-

The wind tore down the underpass, causing the liquid abomination to be splattered across the walls and Izuku to get launched out the other side of the makeshift cannon that was the wind tunnel of an underpass. Izuku skidded to a stop after several feet and could feel the scrape up his knee from the asphalt. He took a moment to check that his knee was regenerating and looked up to find that the number one hero had found a bottle and, utilizing his speed, had shoved most of the villain into it.

“I’m really sorry that you got involved in this, young man! I’ve been chasing this villain for some time but almost lost him in the sewers around here.”

Izuku waved off the apology. It wasn’t a big deal, and no one ended up hurt, anyway. “What are you doing here in Musutafu, anyway, All Might? Your office is in Tokyo.”

“Sorry, young man, but I can’t answer that question! It's a secret for now, after all.” Izuku could understand very well the need for secrecy in their line of work, so that answer didn’t surprise him at all. “Now, young man, I must be going! I have to get this villain to the police, after all!” Izuku frowned and his eyebrows pinched together. There were many things wrong here. Besides that, though, if he jumped with that bottle unsecured in his pocket, it was going to come out.

Izuku reached into his grocery bag that had fallen to the side, pulling out some of the sausages and removing the twine from the butcher's packaging. All Might could use it to secure the top of the pocket over the bottle. Izuku placed his hand on the shoulder of the hero to suggest the course of action and was suddenly flying through the air while holding onto the number one hero.

“Huh?! What are you doing, young man! Let me go!” You’ve gotta be sh*tting me. Did he just suggest I let go of him while flying through the air? You know what? Let's see how he deals with his orders being followed. Izuku quirked an eyebrow and simply gave him an alright before letting go and dropping towards the nearest rooftop.

…

Izuku stood up with a groan as All Might landed beside his impact site on the rooftop. The man looked panicked, and that look definitely didn’t abate when he watched Izuku pop his own shoulder back into its socket. “Are you crazy, young man? What if you had died?”

Izuku gave the number one hero a glare that told him he was having none of it. “Am I crazy? I should be asking you that, All Might. First, you have the situational awareness of a gods damn sloth, in which you don’t realize you’ve placed the bottle in your pocket in such a way that it will fall out. Which, might I note, it has, and you’ve now lost the villain. And when I go to suggest you a solution, you damn near launch me into the stratosphere because you couldn’t pay attention and realize someone had a hand on your shoulder.”

All Might took a nervous step back from the boy as he tore into him. “Then, when we’re in the air, you give the order to let go. Because clearly, that was a plan you’d thought out so well. What the hell were you thinking.” He took another step back and coughed. sh*t, I don’t have any time left. Steam was beginning to pour off of him, and Midoriya hadn’t missed the detail. “You’re trying to force your big form, aren’t you? That can’t be healthy, so drop the act, All Might.”

“Wha-!” All Might took a hard step back now into the edge of the roof before deflating, coughing and spitting crimson all over the ground. “How did you know about that, boy?!” Midoriya’s cold glare bored into All Might and sent chills down his spine. He’d felt a gaze like that before, and it shouldn’t have been coming out of a child, barely an adult.

“All Might, I’m shocked that more people haven’t realized. You are absolutely terrible at keeping secrets. You’ve been caught transforming on at least half a dozen alleyway security feeds since arriving in Musutafu. The only thing I don’t know is why. If it’s simply a transformative augmentation quirk, then that would be one thing, but since you're literally spitting your blood across the roof, I’m guessing that's not it.”

All Might sighed, rubbing at his face with his hands. Had he really been that careless with security feeds? “Considering that you haven’t been spreading around what you have found out, I can safely assume that you understand this is a major secret, yes?” Midoriya nodded and All Might continued, pulling up his shirt. “This is a wound a villain gave me five years ago. I haven’t told the public about my condi-” All Might jerked again, cutting off his explanation when the boy rapidly closed the distance between them to examine his wound. He hissed between his teeth.

“f*cking hell, All Might. How are you functioning as a hero right now? I’m guessing your left kidney, left lung, spleen, a large part of your intestine, and liver were all destroyed, yes?” All Might was shocked he hadn’t realized that the kid in front of him had medical experience.

“The symbol of peace must never show weakness and must never succumb to the forces of evil. It mustn't come out that I was injured this badly by a villain or that I am in a weakened state.” Izuku gave him a critical stare before backing up, sighing, and sitting down in front of the hero.

“Obviously, though, I would point out that you are the one who put yourself in this situation. You’ve practically created the very system that doesn’t allow you to lean on your fellow heroes for help. You’re no god, All Might, despite what you would want villains to believe. Though knowing this happened five years ago brings up an interesting question. In an interview around seven years ago, you were quoted saying that anyone could be a hero, even the quirkless. Do you still think that, despite the injuries that you’ve sustained?” He didn't particularly care what All Might's answer was, but it would give him a good idea of what the man was like.

“Absolutely not. A hero is always laying his or her life on the line, and anyone without a quirk would just get themselves killed.” Izuku’s critical stare bored into All Might andhe shuddered from the disdain that now sat in that gaze. He sucked in a breath, as he could practically feel the ghost of his nemesis behind this young man.

“I see, well-” Midoriya was cut off when an explosion erupted only a few blocks over from where they were on this roof. Before All Might could even react and say something, he was startled when Midoriya threw himself off the roof. Just like when the kid let go of him in the air, his heart jumped into his throat, and he looked over the edge of the building just in time to see Midoriya hit the ground, roll, and sprint in the direction of the explosion, as if it was the child's job to run into danger.

…

Izuku skidded to a stop at the wall of stupid, gawking citizens and tried to take stock of the situation. The slime villain had obviously escaped its temporary prison and, sh*t, taken a hostage. The buildings around them were on fire somehow and lighting the alley up, as if a phosphorus round had gone off. From what he could see, there were four heroes on the scene currently. Backdraft, Mt. Lady, Kamui Woods, and his favorite hero, Death Arms. To his horror, none of them were doing anything to save the hostage who was apparently struggling not to drown in the sludge.

Izuku’s mind went blank with white-hot rage at the two heroes standing there, doing nothing, letting an innocent life be snuffed out. Fine. I’ll deal with it myself. Izuku took off running towards one of the buildings to the right and jumped upwards, pushing off the wall and propelling himself over the crowd and over the line Mt. Lady had desperately been trying to use to keep civilians back.

The silver lining of all the fire was that Izuku could now see the sludge's vital organs in its translucent body. He sprinted at full speed towards the villain, drawing the Ka-Bar that he kept in the small of his back. The heroes shouted at him from the line to get back, because obviously, if their useless asses hadn’t been able to do anything, that meant that someone else couldn’t.

Izuku slid to a stop in front of the sludge before slamming his knife into what looked like a pancreas, causing a horrible, gurgling scream to rip out through the alleyway. Pulling his other arm back, he slammed it into the sludge, grabbing the arm of the hostage and ripping them out of the slime before tossing them back towards the hero line. The slime was pissed and reared back, preparing to crash into Izuku now that his hostage was gone. Izuku dropped into a low crouch, his knife once again running parallel to his forearm as he prepared to eviscerate the slime.

“DETROIT SMASH!” The world once again exploded into a flurry of air pressure as the slime villain was once again splattered against the walls. Rain began to fall on the audience, now in awe of the number one's sheer power.

…

“What the hell were you thinking, kid? You could have gotten yourself killed! You had absolutely no reason to rush headlong into danger like that! What would you have done if you’d gotten hurt? We should arrest you for vigilantism!” Izuku’s lips curled back at the two heroes that were taking turns chewing him out but smiled a vicious, sharp smile when he looked past them and saw the media. He had a perfect way to deal with them.

“Yeah, good luck with that, jackasses. I’m quirkless. The charges wouldn’t ever stick.” Izuku strowed away from them and towards the media with a smile, fully aware of what he was about to do. The media shouted at him from all directions as he stepped in front of them. The quirkless wonder had been a favorite topic of theirs, and this would no doubt be great for their ratings. Izuku placed one hand up and waited for the media hounds to all quiet down. They knew the drill with him. He wasn’t going to answer any question if they didn’t have at least a shred of decorum. The heroes that still stood on the scene felt their jaws drop as they witnessed the media fall silent and raise their hands like well-behaved students.

Izuku called on one of them and smiled because he was immediately confronted with the question he was expecting to hear. “Midoriya! Why would the CEO of a major corporation jump into what was obviously a volatile situation? The heroes were on the scene, so why not let them handle it? You’ve stated on the record in the past that you plan on pursuing a hero license despite all of your achievements already. But you aren’t a hero yet! Why would you jump into the already handled hostage situation?”

“Ah, thank you, Ms. Imada, for asking the very question that I wished to answer. First, let me say that I commend both Backdraft and Mt. Lady for doing what they could in this situation. Backdraft was busy fighting the fires created during the incident, and Mt. Lady was busy trying to keep the civilians on the scene safe and away from the incident. To them, I say thank you for doing their jobs. But let me assure all of you right now, the situation was very much not under control. Both Kamui Woods and Death Arms were doing nothing to try to save the hostage. The hostage was suffocating and would have been dead by the time someone had acted if I hadn’t stepped in. I’m sure they’ll tell you later that they didn’t have the quirks for it. That they were waiting for someone with a more ‘well suited’ quirk to arrive.”

Izuku looked around the sea of reporters who were hanging on his every word and scribbling rapidly into their notepads. “Pardon my French, but that excuse is bullsh*t. As you have all been so quick to point out, I’m quirkless. Yet, despite being quirkless, I was able to both injure the villain and rescue the hostage. This is the second time I have been on a scene where Death Arms would have gotten a civilian killed had I not acted. A quirkless was of more use than two of the on-scene heroes.”

“But what you did was dangerous! How can you justify the threat to yourself and to the hostage if you had failed?” Izuku nodded along with the reporter's outburst before answering their question.

“You are right. What I did was dangerous, and in no way am I advocating for people to get in the way of professionals that are doing their jobs. But in this case, I had the training, the knowledge, and the ability to save a life, and that isn’t something I am ever going to be able to walk away from. The moment you become a police officer, a federal agent, a hero, you sign your life away. Until the day you retire, it is your duty. Your obligation. Your commitment and burden. You are the shield that stands between the innocent and those that would harm them. If sacrificing your life means that even one innocent person gets away from a horrible situation? If trading your life is what it takes to save another? Then that is the contract that you made with the innocent by taking on the role of a hero.” Everyone listening was enraptured by Izuku’s words, and even many of the civilians that had stuck around to see All Might had gravitated towards him as he gave his speech.

Izuku frowned now as his voice took on a darker tone full of reprisal. “Kamui Woods failed in that duty today, and I hope that he can learn from it. Evidently, Death Arms hasn’t or isn’t interested in learning his lesson and is a prime example of what I consider to be a failure of a hero.”

…

Izuku had finally escaped from the media and was heading towards yet another grocery store to once again purchase the items he had originally set out to buy this morning when one of his least favorite people came running up behind him, yelling. It was just his luck that the hostage had been none other than Katsuki Bakugo. “What?! You think you're some kind of bigshot now that you have your own company, Deku?! You’re not! I never asked to be saved and certainly not by a worthless, quirkless piece of sh*t like you! Don’t you ever do something like that again!”

Katsuki’s breath hitched in his throat and his blood ran cold as Izuku turned to look at him. His eyes were cold, and there was no warmth in the smile that he was giving him. Katsuki’s instincts screamed at him to run, and his eyes involuntarily focused in on the blood that speckled the cuffs of Midoriya's shirt from where he had stabbed the villain. “Bakugo, I wasn’t even aware that you were the hostage, else I may have just left you to die as some form of twisted karmic retribution. But let me make something clear for you. Don’t worry, I won’t save you next time.”

Izuku had barely made it any further down the road when All Might in his skinny form stepped out of a crossing in the road in front of him. “Get out of my way, All Might. I’m not in the mood for whatever it is you are going to say.”

All Might nodded solemnly. He had misjudged the young man heavily. “I wanted to apologize for the hypocrisy of my actions. I told you that a hero is always laying his life on the line, and yet I very nearly didn’t live up to my ideals. You almost had to handle a situation that I should have been the one to deal with from the start. For that, I am sorry. I also wish to make you an offer.”

Izuku sighed, and some of the tension he was holding in his shoulders released. At least the number one is capable of recognizing his own mistakes and growing from them. That’s already better than most. “What offer, All Might?”

“What you said to the media resonated with me, and I couldn’t agree more. It is our duty as heroes to protect the innocent, regardless of the cost to ourselves. Even though you were evidently quirkless, you were still the one to act. Someone without any power to call his own was the one to make all of the difference. You are worthy to inherit my strength! You are worthy to inherit One for All!”

And just like that, all of the tension that had leached out of Izuku snapped back as he felt his eye twitch. “What?” All Might nodded his head knowingly and rapidly as he continued his statement.

“Indeed, my quirk. My quirk is a power not unlike the sacred torch of legend that comes passed from one bearer to the next. You are worthy of inheriting this power and becoming a hero.” When All Might looked down at the young man from where he had raised his arms to the sky, he froze. What he found was not what he was expecting. He had expected excitement, confusion, and a thrilled look as the young man took him up on the offer. What he was met with was absolute, unadulterated fury.

“You haven’t changed your mind about the quirkless at all, have you?”

All Might shook his head though to his credit he did hesitate slightly. “Of course not. Like I said before, it's far too dangerous for someone without a quirk to be a full-time hero.”

Izuku wanted to rip into him right then and there. Wanted to take the quirkist asshole apart piece by piece until he could see that they weren’t weak and powerless like he seemed to think. Instead, he stabbed his finger into the man's chest and snarled at him. “Not only do you think that I can’t be a hero without your power, but you are also offering because you need a successor. Well, All Might, congratulations. You’ve found one person who wants nothing to do with you or your quirk.”

All Might's eyes blew wide at the righteous fury that was leaking out of the young man and being directed towards him. He tried to take a step back again but was confronted by the young man following him, continuing to stab him in the chest with his finger. “You can take your quirk and ram it up your ass, you sack of poorly packaged horsesh*t. Now get the f*ck out of my way, All Might, before I make you.”

All Might stood there for a long time in shock after Midoriya had stormed off. Of all of the reactions he had expected, that had not been one of them. He had been quirkless once upon a time, after all. He knew what he would have given for a quirk like what Nana offered him. Yet he’d found the perfect successor and messed up that conversation massively. Perhaps Nedzu or Gran would have an idea of how to get through to the young man, especially if he were going to try to be a hero, anyway. Perhaps he wasn't beyond hope.

Chapter 20: Chapter #20 | Atomic Sublimation

Chapter Text

Much to Toshinori’s surprise, it took only a few days for Nedzu to invite him into his office. When he stepped inside, he wore a striped, mustard yellow suit that seared the eyes of anyone looking at it. He was struck by many things when he stepped inside. The first was that all of the curtains had been pulled back, leaving the big wall of windows to speckle the light coming in behind the president's desk. Dust floated through the air near the bookcases. Something he would never understand was the president's obsession with physical texts. You could never get rid of all of the dust when you had them.

The second thing Toshinori noticed was that the president wasn’t alone. One of his soon-to-be fellow professors sat at the corner of the desk, giving him a glare. He had no idea what he’d done to annoy Aizawa Shota, but he was certain it was a misunderstanding. He’d have to get to the bottom of it after the meeting. He couldn’t start out on poor terms with one of the professors, after all.

The detail he caught last, and in retrospect should have been first, was that the president himself, sitting behind the desk, was staring at him with a perfectly straight face. Now for most, this wouldn’t have been a concern. But Toshinori had met President Nedzu on enough occasions in the past that he knew the man always forced a chipper attitude to distract from, well, what he was.

“I am sorry about insisting on seeing you on such short notice, sir, but I have exciting news. I have found the perfect person to train! I just need some help convincing them! I was hoping you and the staff could lend your aid.”

Toshinori was so focused on the president and his request that he didn’t see Aizawa stiffen at the corner of the desk, and didn't see the moment of anger that flashed across his eyes. The president remained straight-faced, but his tone was carefully soft when he spoke. “Oh? Is that so? Please do tell, All Might. Who have you picked as your successor?”

Toshinori jerked slightly before glancing over to where Aizawa sat, stiff as a board. “Uh, sir?” Nedzu looked to where he was gesturing before looking back to the startled and wary Number One Hero. He maintained his stoic facade while speaking.

“I’ve informed Aizawa of the reason you’ve come to U.A., All Might. I had intended to speak of this topic with you later in this week, but as I believe I was just speaking with the young man in question here, I felt it necessary to inform him that you would be attempting to train, as you seem to want to put it, one of his students. Hence we are speaking sooner rather than later.” Of course, that wasn’t entirely true. While Nedzu had known of All Might's reason for coming to U.A., and the rest of the staff had been informed of his skinny form, he hadn’t intended to inform Aizawa of Toshinori’s quirk.

Unfortunately for the number one, Midoriya hadn’t had any qualms about sharing the details with Aizawa. Evidently, according to Izuku, Aizawa was privy to far more sensitive information than that. “But please, do continue. Tell us all about this ‘perfect person’ you want to train.”

Toshinori was put off momentarily by the idea of another professor being informed without him being warned about it, but could grudgingly respect the decision. It would be better to have a professor that knew about it that could help guide his successor than for all of them to be blind to the changes their student would be going through. Besides that, the president was one of the smartest beings alive, and if he believed Aizawa could be trusted with the knowledge, then he would trust him, as well. He excitedly bounced back to the topic at hand, not picking up on the tone of the room, and began rapidly reciting details out of the speech he had prepared to convince the president to talk to the boy. “. . . and that’s why young Midoriya would be perfect! He has the heart of a true hero!”

Silence fell on the room, but not the kind of silence Toshinori had been wanting and expecting. He had expected contemplation followed by an agreement to help. He had expected the president to be excited at the prospect of ushering in the era of the hero that would replace him. Instead, when he looked back to the president, he was confronted with the angriest he had ever seen the chimera. His muzzle was pulled down into a deep frown, while the crown of fur that rested at his ruff was standing on end. The president's eyes bored into him as he began to sweat under the gaze. “Oh, would he? Now I see why Midoriya wanted us to get your side of the story first. If that fantastical, sugar-coated fable of yours was as good as the situation gets, I imagine the reality of your conversation with him was far worse.”

All Might blinked and began to stutter out a response. “Sir, I must say that I am unsure as to what you mean. I’ve told you nothing but the truth. I don’t know wha-”

“Be quiet, All Might. You’ve clearly sat atop your perch for so long that it’s made you blind as to what you’ve just done. You obviously didn’t read the memo I sent out to the entire staff, either, if you have no idea who Midoriya Izuku is.” All Might blinked and choked out the word memo before the president’s eye twitched and he snapped at him. “Yes, you giant oaf, the memo labeled as class one importance. The memo informing the staff that both of the founders of Moonlit Industries will be attending U.A. University. The memo that informs the staff that Midoriya Izuku is going to be in my personal program, because he is just as intelligent as I am, at the very least, and incredibly dangerous!”

Toshinori sank deeper and deeper into the seat he had taken and he could feel the blood leaching out of his face as Nedzu tore into him. “So no, All Might, we will not be helping you in trying to convince someone who has already rejected your offer. Most certainly not when you’ve more than likely turned the topic into a powder keg by insulting him.”

“I didn’t insult the boy! He’s quirkless! He won’t be able to become a hero safely withou-” Toshinori sat up in his seat and tried to defend himself from that accusation, but the president pinned him in place with a snarl, showing the razor-sharp teeth he usually hid.

“No, All Might. That is the final answer on this topic. Now get out of my office before I decide the board can suck it up when I remove you from this campus, regardless of what benefits your presence would bring to the university.”

…

It was a long moment after All Might exited the office before Nedzu could lay his fur flat. Aizawa continued to glare at the door while muttering something about the number one hero that probably could have gotten him arrested in some countries. When Nedzu finally looked over to the empty couch he had against one of the walls of his office, he took a deep breath and spoke. “Well, Midoriya, do you have anything more to add to that trainwreck of a story?”

There was nothing for a moment before the air shimmered. Like a pane of glass suddenly shattering into a thousand shards, the air rippled and pulsed before, as suddenly as it began, the effect ended, and on the couch sat a frowning Midoriya Izuku. “Honestly? Not really, I’m sure you can infer the rest. He doesn’t think I can be a quirkless hero and effectively said it was impossible without his power. Speaking of, am I going to have an issue with the board, getting into the college?”

The president wanted nothing more than to open the hidden vents in his desk and office before lighting up a cigarette. But he had guests, so he settled for sighing heavily and reaching for the tea kettle that was omnipresent on his desk. “If you were entering the college normally? Probably yes. As much as the board flaunts its ‘even the quirkless can be here’ policies, they would likely try to find some kind of nonsense reason to reject your application. But as you will be entering as my personal student, you get to bypass the normal vetting by the board and jump straight to acceptance.”

Izuku nodded and glanced at Aizawa when the man began to chuckle darkly. “That being said, why exactly are you insisting on taking the regular examination with the students? We both know how it's going to go.”

“Several reasons. One, I don’t want special treatment. If I am going to get into the college, then I am going to do so through the proper channels. Secondly, it’s a chance for me to prove myself. I suspect the board is going to be looking for any reason to be rid of me. I don’t need to start giving them ammunition before classes have even begun. I also expect our illustrious President Nedzu has plans to make things interesting, and I wouldn’t want to ruin them, right?”

They both looked to the now pouting president. “Of course you know. Why wouldn’t you know? Just for that, I’m making your testing area even worse. I hope you apologize to your fellow test-takers for what you’ve brought upon them.”

Midoriya threw his right hand against his chest, grinning like an idiot, while dramatically sweeping the room with his other hand. “Oh, what am I to do? The president of the university is already against me. He even went as far as sending out a memo to his staff. Oh, woe is me.”

Aizawa snorted, which drew a mild stare from Nedzu, before the chimera rolled his eyes and responded. “Don’t even try to tell me that you didn’t know about the memo.”

Izuku chuckled and dropped the fancy stage act. “Oh, I knew about the memo, and even if I hadn’t been aware, you made it fairly obvious what you thought of me when you put a sniper on the opposite roof during our first meeting. On that note, by the way, do me a favor, Eraser. Tell Snipe not to set up his nest on the roof of the target's neighbor. I don’t know how any of you expected me not to immediately know about it.”

Aizawa rubbed at his eyes and agreed, even though a single thought was going through his head. He had found his class' problem child.

…

The months leading up to the entrance exams had been busy, to say the least. Hatsume had gone into overdrive perfecting some of her ideas for support equipment. According to her, she couldn’t let herself get into the program with any less than three fully functional prototypes to work with. Izuku didn’t have the heart to tell her that she wouldn’t be taking the entrance exam, and most support course students left with their licenses having one finished product at most.

Izuku had been especially busy in these last few months. He had almost gotten Project Icarus into the testing stages, had mark one of his hero gear complete, tested, integrated with his implants, and had submitted all of them to U.A. 's support department after the patents went through. Nedzu had informed him that he’d be allowed to use all of them once Powerloader cleared them. Besides his own projects, however, he had also been aiding both Kyoka and Himiko in preparing for the entrance exams.

Kyoka had been pushing herself harder than ever these last several months, desperate to prove that she was capable of being a hero. After cycling through the armory, they had eventually settled on Kyoka relying on her ear jacks as her weapons when fighting in hand to hand. She didn’t quite mind this decision, considering the number of times she had been struck by wooden rods.

Himiko, in the meantime, had shown an absolutely astounding compatibility with knives and escrima. While she hadn’t been exactly happy with Izuku’s decision to train her quirk, as well, after a bit of talking in conjunction with Vlad King, whom Nedzu had indeed agreed to send over, they had been able to convince her it was necessary. What they found out was that while she couldn’t mimic others’ quirks, she did gain the physical abilities of whomever she transformed into. While it was funny the first time she’d plowed into a wall as Izuku, it did bring up a concerning question. Just how much of his power could she use? Was there an upper limit? If not, then she could very well be an ace up his sleeve that he hadn’t been prepared for.

It became evident as their training continued, and progressed into firearms training, that neither had anything resembling natural talent with a gun. Not that it bothered them. Izuku had only intended to teach them so that they would know how guns were handled, should they run into them. One unexpected event that occurred—though looking back on the incidental discovery, it shouldn’t have been surprising—was that, evidently, Mei was terrifying with a long gun. Izuku chalked it up to her quirk literally enhancing her long-range vision, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be on the other end of it.

…

The sun was barely cresting the sky when the four teenagers arrived at the gates of U.A. University. Izuku and Mei were, of course, used to being awake at obscene hours of the morning. Kyoka and Himiko, on the other hand, looked as if someone had personally offended them at a base level. Deep bags rested under their eyes, and they were desperately trying to wake up while grumbling about the ungodly hour. The difference in their clothing would have been striking to anyone that was walking by at the moment.

Himiko wore a, in Izuku’s opinion, horrendous banana yellow tracksuit, striped and outlined with black, while Kyoka wore her high school uniform for what she hoped would be the last time. Izuku wore a simple grey t-shirt and exercise shorts over what was a not-so-simple black gel polymer skinsuit that covered his entire body up to his neck and wrists.

Izuku felt a poke at his shoulder and turned to see an earjack retracting from where it had just been stabbing him. “Not that I don’t respect the whole ‘be early to all meetings’ mentality that you’ve got, Izuku, but why exactly are we here so early? Testing doesn’t begin until nine, and last time I checked, it was just shy of seven.”

Midoriya glanced back to the gate, waiting on the professor that was supposed to escort the four of them to Nedzu’s office, before answering Kyoka’s question. “President Nedzu wants to speak with Mei and me prior to the beginning of testing, and had it been just that, I would have let you two come at the normal time. However, the president wishes to speak with you two, as well.”

Both girls very quickly went ramrod straight where they stood and cried out a what in unison. After a moment of staring at each other, Kyoka started shaking Izuku furiously by his shoulders while practically yelling at the top of her lungs. “Why would you not tell us something so important!”

“Gah, stop! Why am I always getting shaken!? It isn't that big a deal. He simply wants to meet you both because I was the one that trained you until this point and wish you good luck with the testing.”

“You’re always getting shaken because you neglect to tell us important sh*t! It is the president of the U.A. University. It may not be a big deal to you, but it is to us!” Izuku managed to disengage from the distraught grip of his friend long enough to dip through the gate and past a rather surprised looking Snipe. Of course, that was perspective, Izuku supposed. He hadn’t ever seen the man without his helmet on.

“Good to see you, sir. Is the president ready for us?”

“Ah do believe so, though I am going to have to ask you to hand your sidearm over until testing is done.” Izuku scowled but reached up under his shirt and pulled out the sidearm he’d been licensed on. He pulled the magazine from it, pulled and locked the slide, and handed the sidearm to snipe with the barrel in his hand. Snipe took both the gun and the magazine before narrowing his eyes. “Why do I get this feeling that this isn’t all of them? Hmm, Midoriya?”

Izuku tsked, “The president smelled the damn gunpowder last time we met, didn’t he?” Reaching down, he pulled a smaller clutch piece from his inner thigh and another from the small of his back. “There, that’s all of them.” Snipe continued to stare at him, but all Izuku could do this time was insist. “I swear, I only had the three on me today.”

Snipe nodded, storing the various weapons away before gesturing to the group to follow him. The group in question had entered as Izuku was pulling the first weapon from under his shirt. Their eyes had simply popped wide when they realized he’d been carrying no less than three firearms and none of them had realized it. “You’ll get these back when testing is done today. You just can’t use them in the tests.”

…

“Ah, good to see you all this morning! Am I a mouse? A dog? A bear? Who knows! I’m President Nedzu! I hope you are all excited for the testing today!” Himiko and Kyoka were in awe of the chimera currently standing on his desk to greet them. Mei was fairly indifferent as, after Izuku, not too much surprised her anymore, and she’d had the pleasure of meeting the man before. Izuku, on the other hand, was desperately trying to keep a straight face. He had seen behind the chipper act that the president put on for his students, and it was both amusing and mildly disturbing to see how easily he flipped that switch. Oh hell, I don’t do that, do I?

“He’s so fluffy. I want to pet the fluff.” Everyone was staring at Himiko after her comment. With the laser focus she had on the president’s fur, followed by the president's very slight eye twitch, Izuku finally broke.

He snorted and chuckled, still desperately fighting a losing battle not to devolve into tears. “Please don’t, Himiko. I don’t want to have to tend wounds before the testing even begins.”

“I’ll have to agree with Midoriya on this one. Please don’t, Miss Toga. I’m not fond of being touched, and I tend to react poorly when people do. But as I was saying! Welcome to U.A University! I’ve heard that you both are going to be taking our hero course entrance exams today?” Both girls nodded, and Nedzu gave them a small smile, careful not to show his teeth. “If that is the case, then I look forward to seeing how you both perform. I’m sure both myself and the panel of heroes that will be judging the exam are looking forward to seeing how you handle yourselves.”

Nedzu turned away from the two girls to instead talk to the two founders. "As for you two, I called you here for a very different reason than to wish you luck. You, Midoriya, have testing to do.” Turning around and reaching into his seat, Nedzu hefted a stack of papers up into his hands before thrusting them towards Izuku with a maniacal gleam in his eyes. Izuku took them, slightly confused, but very quickly paled when he realized what he was holding was a ream of paper with the words Midoriya’s Super Special Entrance Exam on them. “You can use any of the reference books on the shelves in this room. If you hurry and start now, you should just be able to make it to the support course exam to make the gear you wanted for the hero course exam.”

Midoriya lunged forward, yanking one of the pens off of the president's desk before pretty much diving for the couch and coffee table at the side of the office. “Oh, and Midoriya?” Midoriya looked up at him, clearly desperate to be left alone to get started. “The pages are double-sided.” Midoriya’s eyes went wide, and he snarled an inhuman sound before his head whipped down and he started writing faster than any of the other three could even keep up with.

“Uh, sir? Is he going to be alright? That’s a lot of pages…” Nedzu chuckled darkly, turning to Kyoka.

“Oh, rest assured, he’ll be perfectly fine if he hurries. He did ask to take the exam to get in, after all. Don’t worry, your exams won’t look anything like that. This is what he gets for trying to ruin my fun.” The last part was muttered so low that only Kyoka caught the words and decided right then and there that she never wanted to mess with the president. Especially after more snarling ensued from their side.

“As for you, Miss Hatsume, this is for you. From what I’ve heard, you prefer pants over a skirt, yes?” Nedzu reached back into his chair and this time pulled out a crisp new uniform. It was pitch black with gold trim. Where there would normally be tassels on the uniform's shoulder to denote the course, instead, there was a bright silver UA on top of a golden star. “As you are taking my own lessons alongside the support course, you aren’t required to stay in the campus dorms. You are welcome to commute from your headquarters for your courses. Here is your class schedule, as well.”

Mei nodded, taking the stack of items. “Thank you, sir. I’ll do that then. No offense, but I doubt your facilities have the specialized tools that we have back at HQ.” Mei smiled at her companions then. “If that is all, sir? I’ll be heading out. Good luck everyone. I have babies to get back to.”

…

Powerloader had seen a lot of things in his life when it came to students. But watching Midoriya run around the testing workshop like a bat out of hell had been something new. The boy was brilliant; there was no question about that in powerloader's mind. He hadn’t had a chance to vet his hero gear yet, but if half of what he saw in the blueprints was functional, then he had no doubt that he was a genius.

Midoriya had come into the workshop a little under five minutes late. Which, considering the president's warning, was a miracle in and of itself. He knew what kind of tests Nedzu gave, so frankly, he was surprised that the kid had shown up at all. The next forty minutes were spent watching Midoriya belt around the workshop before finally settling down at one of the benches. It was an hour and ten minutes into the test that Powerloader decided to check in on him and see what he was creating. There were twenty minutes left in the test, after all, and he hadn’t done so yet, judging the frantic pace to be enough reassurance that something was being worked on.

He deeply regretted not checking in sooner. No sooner had Powerloader stepped up behind Izuku, that he jumped up out of his chair, grabbing what looked like a pressurized gas canister and… was that a rifle?! “Uh. Midoriya?!”

The boy glanced at Powerloader for only a moment before grabbing a six-inch thick sheet of steel and walking to the end of their testing range, placing it at the end before walking back. The entire time, even unloaded, the barrel of what looked like a rifle had been pointed at the floor. “What is it, sir?”

“Why exactly did you make a rifle?” Powerloader could only describe his feelings as a deep concern. He knew from talking to Snipe that the kid was, apparently, disturbingly good with a gun.

“I’m making use of a rarely utilized part of the entrance exam rules. Technically, when taking the hero course exams, you aren’t allowed any kind of gear except for that which is either necessary for your quirk, or is produced by your quirk. However, there is a little addendum to that that isn’t used often, because people don’t think about the crossing of fields enough. Anything I make in this exam, I am welcome to use on the other.”

Powerloader nodded slowly, keeping his eyes glued to the long, sleek silver and black body. Something wasn’t quite right about it, but he couldn’t place it. That made him even warier of it. “I knew you’d be utilizing that rule, but why do you need ballistic weapons for the exam…”

Izuku shook his head before gesturing back at the table he’d been working at. “The only ballistic weapon I created is the revolver over there and is chambered three-fifty-seven magnum. As it is, I did a bit of research into what this exam would contain and as it turns out, there has been a heavy predominance of robots until now. No matter how much the president would like to mix things up to push me, he can’t change certain aspects without it endangering the other test takers or making it unfair to them. I also can’t assume, though, that it will only be robots because it's the president. Hence why I wanted to have at least one kinetic weapon on me, however rudimentary it ended up being.”

Izuku took the canister he had and plugged it into what would usually be the magazine well on the rifle before flicking a switch on the side of it. Powerloader scrunched his eyebrows underneath his helmet. Why would he plug in a gas canister? And are those capacitors on the side of it? What would he… Wait. No.

“Now normally for something like this exam, I’d prefer to go into the field with a MAG weapon. The one I’ve prototyped back at base can accelerate a milligram's worth of metal to point three percent of lightspeed. Not enough force to level a building, but more than enough that it would rip through the robots like paper. Sadly, I didn’t have time to replicate that prototype.” Powerloader could only thank whatever god or gods were out there for that. “I did, however, have time for this.”

Izuku yelled now, catching the attention of every struggling student in the workshop. “Range is hot! Test fire in 3. 2. 1.” The front of the rifle erupted in a plume of pink and blue plasma. Iridescent light painted the workshop floor and the sound of the air itself being torn apart echoed around the large, industrial-sized room as the pink-blue missile screamed through the air towards its target. There was a flash when it made contact with the steel plate and then silence.

Powerloader was dumbfounded. The kid had made a plasma rifle. In an hour and some change. A weapon that, to this point, was only thought to be theoretical. It had cut through six inches of steel like it was butter. The memo had been right. This kid was dangerous. That was when he heard the boy click his tongue. “There’s a leak somewhere. The plasma shouldn’t have had oxygen in it turning it blue.”

While Izuku went back to his table to continue tinkering, Powerloader quickly moved to his desk and, grabbing his phone, called both Snipe and Nedzu. The students all continued to stare and murmur to each other about what they’d just seen.

…

Kyoka and Himiko had expected the test to be difficult. That was a given, considering U.A. was one of the most prestigious schools. Even knowing that, by the time they completed the exam, they felt two things in specific. First, they were really happy that they had gone through Izuku’s grueling study regiment, despite their complaints at the time. The second was thank god they didn’t have to take whatever hell test the president had slapped in front of Izuku.

They both stepped into the auditorium they’d been directed to for the hero exam briefing and couldn’t help but sigh in exasperation. Where on earth had Midoriya gotten a rifle? They took their seats next to him and stared at him to explain. “What? Preparation is key.”

…

It didn’t take long for the auditorium to fill up and for Present Mic to begin his presentation. “HEY THERE LISTENERS! WHO HERE IS READY FOR THE EXAMINATION! LET ME HEAR IT!” There was silence. Silence heavy enough that even crickets would have felt nervous about making noise. “Keeping it mellow, ay? Well, I can get down with that. Let's explain the exam, shall we? There are three types of robots you’ll be facing in the various cityscapes! One, two, and three-pointers, respectively.” As Mic rattled off information that everyone would need to know, the images to correspond with the information would appear on the screen.

Izuku silently poked both of his companions and got their attention. When they looked at him, he pointed to a specific part of the information packet they had been given. Most of it was absolute nonsense. Most likely to test the student's ability to parse through briefing information given to them. Emergency shut off switches were located just below a thin sheet of metal on the one through three-point robots.

“SIR. On the printout, there are four types of villains. If that is a misprint, then U.A, the most prominent school in Japan, should be ashamed!” Izuku wanted to snort at the preppy man's interruption, because he could see the displeasure in Mic’s eyes.

“Okay, okay. Sit down, Examinee Number Seven-One-One-One. If you would sit down, then you might realize we were getting to the fourth type of robot. I was saving it for last. The fourth type is worth no points! It’s an obstacle that will go berserk in narrow spaces! There is one in every test center, so try to avoid or get away from it since there is no reason to defeat it! With that, you have everything you need! Your battle center is on your guest passes, so head to the busses with your center on them. Good luck everyone, and remember the school's motto. Go beyond. Plus Ultra!

Chapter 21: Chapter #21 | Shot of Terror

Chapter Text

Izuku wasted no time in retreating to the buses once the debrief had let out. It was sad that he wouldn’t be able to watch over his friends in their exams, but Izuku had to begrudgingly admit that it might be for the best. Even if he knew the president was going to pull something, even he couldn’t tell precisely what it was at this point.

He settled into one of the seats towards the back of his bus. It was a newer model, but the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. The ugly yellow seemed to have caught on and never left, and as Izuku tried to force himself to relax, he let the faint rumble of the vehicle soothe his nerves. If it was necessary, he’d be able to escape out the back quickly or set up a stable position for his rifle out of the back emergency exit. He was certain that nothing of the sort would be needed, of course, but old habits die hard, and if he closed his eyes, it was almost like being back on a troop transport. Tight undersuit, rifle between his legs, the faint smell of diesel.

The moment couldn’t last forever, as it didn’t take long for the rest of the students who had been flitting around the parking lot to find their respective buses and load up. He also, as much as he’d like to be, wasn’t oblivious to the numerous nervous glances he was getting for his rifle. Izuku breathed deeply as the various buses took off on their short journeys to their group testing zones and did his best to steel himself for what was to come. He knew the test involved robots. He had double, and then triple checked that information.

He hadn’t had good experiences with robots in the past. The Phurians would send them into villages as shock units. They were expendable and would follow their orders to the letter. The issue was that the Phurian High Command didn’t care if the automatons executed their orders too efficiently. If they were given the order to eliminate the village, then they would perform the order with the decisive, inhuman brutality that they quickly became known for.

Izuku stared out the window and did his best to ignore whatever student was attempting to glare a hole into the side of his head. He didn’t know what he’d done to already make someone angry, but he certainly wasn’t going to let someone so easily bothered get to him. The volume on the bus had crept into the upper decibels, and it would have been surprising that their proctor hadn’t told the kids on the bus to keep it down. Would being the operative word, as their proctor, sitting at the front of the bus, was none other than Present Mic himself, and if anyone was going to be used to the loud noise, it was him.

…

The bus rolled to a stop in front of the large gates to one of the many testing zones under the ownership of U.A. University. Izuku stood once the bus had finally stopped, slinging his rifle up and over his right shoulder. The students were, for the most part, in awe, echoing the thoughts going through his own head. I wonder just how many of these U.A. has built? As much as I like to joke with the president, I’ve tried not to snoop around in the school systems too much. What must their budget be like if they can build a large number of these, repair them, maintain them, and that is considered normal-

Izuku was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching him from behind. When he felt the person in question’s presence come up behind him, and felt a hand land on his left shoulder, he took one large step away, turning his body to see who had decided they needed to speak with him.

“Just what do you think you are doing with a weapon! This is the U.A. entrance exam. Unless your quirk requires that weapon to function, you should not have it! If you are trying to throw everyone else here off by intimidating them, then-” Izuku narrowed his eyes and cut the man off by placing his left hand in the air.

“For as much as you seem to be a stickler for the rules, you clearly haven’t read them very well. I am authorized to bring anything that I created during the support course exams into the heroics exam with me. I understand that it wouldn’t be your first thought, but try to think of reasons beyond quirks before you decide to berate someone for something.”

Facial recognition complete. Iida Tenya, younger brother of the Turbo Hero, Ingenium. Was brought in to take the recommendation exam a week ago but failed, leading to his participation in the general examination today. Izuku had to focus, lest he start smiling at Iida and give him the wrong impression. Silently thanking Phoenix for her timely information, he continued speaking.

“Now if I were you, Iida, I would go prepare myself for the exam. Wouldn’t want to fail a second time, hmm?” Izuku turned, leaving a sputtering, confused, and concerned Iida Tenya behind him. In the corner of his vision, he could see Mic climbing the stairs up towards his control room and braced himself for an imminent start to the examination.

There were all sorts of students in the crowd with a plethora of quirks, from what he could see. None seemed like much of a threat. He would still have to keep an eye on a few of them with not so obvious quirks, but he was fairly confident that this wasn’t where the president’s surprise lay for him.

One student stood out to Izuku, not because they set off any danger alarms in his head, but because she looked like she was about to have a nervous breakdown. She was surprisingly tall, probably just shy of his height, which had capped out around six-four after the last ten months. Her slender build was feminine still, despite her height, and both her hair and her large, round eyes were a warm chestnut brown. The poor girl was muttering to herself and jittering in place, pressing her fingers together and taking them apart in a cycle that only seemed to be getting her more worked up.

Damn it. Why can’t I just leave things be? Izuku took several quick steps to the girl. His voice was as soft as the smile he put on his face when he spoke. “You seem to be worried. There is no need for that. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

The girl's head whipped around to find the voice speaking to her, and when she caught sight of him, she squeaked before chuckling nervously. “Haha, y-yeah. I guess you could say that. Everyone here seems to have some kind of really cool quirk that could help them with the exam. All I can do is make things weightless…” The girl trailed off and Izuku laughed. How exactly that was possible was beyond him at the moment, but it certainly wasn’t weak by any means.

“Oh, is that all.” Izuku snorted out a mildly sarcastic comment before calming down and really smiling now. “You’ll be fine. Aside from the fact that you can just touch the robots and let them float away, effectively disabling them, your quirk is literally perfect for rescue situations. You’ll do great-”

“OKAY, START!” The contestants all turned their heads to where Present Mic was standing. He had somehow gotten on top of the control room and was yelling at them from where he stood. “What's wrong? There are no countdowns in real fights! Run! Run!” Everyone wasted no time piling through the gates and into the testing zone. Despite the crowding and desperation that was in the air, the girl realized two things while fighting her way in. One, she felt a lot better, and two? The guy that had been talking to her was nowhere to be seen.

…

“OKAY, STA-” Izuku didn’t even wait until the hero had finished his sentence before he had already taken off into the city. He had a head start on the others here in way of ability, intelligence, and even equipment. But he would be damned if he didn’t give every combat situation his best. That was how mistakes were made, how people died. His pride would not be going before his fall.

Izuku sprinted up the main road, rifle in hand, scanning for any sign of movement. It wasn’t long before three robots had sped out onto the road, crossing into his path. Izuku dropped into a skid, legs grinding against the asphalt as he slid towards the robots. Taking aim, he placed two bolts through the eye sockets of the robots, forcing the steel constructions to have their insides torn to pieces before their back armor bloomed outwards with the force of the blasts. The third swung its arm at him, missing by a mile when Izuku launched himself out of his slide and up over the robot before slamming his foot into its head, turning the scrap metal into a cannonball as it careened down the road and into yet another robot that was making its way towards him. He could hear several of the faster students rapidly catching up to him from behind. Alright Nedzu, let’s see what you’ve got.

…

Himiko and Kyoka’s lungs burned. Their limbs were sore, and they had lost count of the numerous cuts, scrapes, bruises, and mild burns they had. They had known the hero test wasn’t going to be a joke. After all, not only was U.A. one of the best hero schools in the world, but the university had an obligation to filter out candidates that wouldn’t cut it in the field. Even so, this was overkill. The two girls had been lucky to get the same testing zone and had felt confident in their abilities, especially working in tandem. Izuku always preached working as a group to them, and thus they had practiced as such.

Initially, they had been worried about the point distribution if they worked together. But it became increasingly obvious as they fought their way through the city together that, one, it was no accident they had ended up in the same area and, two, there would be no worries about point distribution. While the test had started out normally, well, as normal as heroics course tests could be, the exam had quickly devolved into them fighting for their lives in what felt like an unending horde. Robots had begun to crawl out of the alleys, off of roofs, and even out of the simulated sewer system that ran below the mock city. But if the numbers were an issue, then the robots using actual tactics was an absolute disaster.

Kyoka dipped out of her cover, rolling under the swipe of one of the robots and leading the rockets from one of the three-pointers into one of the two pointers that had engaged them close up. She came out of her roll only to have to lunge to the side, slamming her jacks into the body of a one-pointer and pulsing her quirk through it to fry the circuitry. Off to her side, Himiko wasn’t faring much better. Even if she’d been able to rip scrap off a couple dead bots to function as weapons, the robots were seemingly endless. Himiko rammed one of her makeshift escrima through the eye of a two-pointer before she was forced to roll away from a hail of rubber bullets.

Both girls dove for cover as the three-pointers bathed their area in a hail of gunfire. Both were exhausted and wearing down. Himiko let out a slightly crazed laugh as the bullets rained down around them. “Isn’t this fun, Kyo?! And think! If this is what they are throwing at us, just imagine what they are throwing at Izu!” The look in Himiko’s eyes sent a chill down Kyoka’s spine. She was crazy. She was friends with a battle crazy lunatic. She does have one hell of a point though. Wonder what they're doing to Green.

…

Maijima Higari was a lot of things. Inventor, licensed developer, professor, and when the occasion called for it, a hero. Today had called for him to shirk most of those roles. He’d had a student come in late and create a weapon that, while he, as an inventor, would like nothing more than to take apart, he’d had to let leave the studio and go into a field test without any safety precautions. He’d had to ignore his instincts screaming at him not to allow a firearm into a test with what were effectively kids, even if they were hero hopefuls. Then, to really put a cap on things, when he sat down in the room with the rest of the professors to watch the exams, their president had sat him down at a console to apparently micromanage a group of robots to target two young girls. Even if they were apparently trained before coming in, it was a bit much.

Maijima sighed as he leaned back in his chair. The girls had finally, after several long minutes, eliminated the last of the robots he’d been tasked to oversee against them. He didn’t care what the president was going to say. He definitely wasn’t about to go all out against two kids. That being said, he was distinctly worried they had overdone it. Not that the girls had failed . If anything, they had passed with flying colors. But if they got the idea that all of U.A. was going to be like that from day one, they could lose two very promising students.

The maniacal laughter from behind him caught his attention now. He’d been under the impression that the chimera had been laughing at the girls being sieged by two dozen robots. The fact that he wasn’t made Maijima very hesitant to turn around. When he did, he blanched at the scene unfolding before him. The other professors were weakly protesting but didn’t have the courage, not that he could blame them, to interrupt the president when he got like this.

The young genius from earlier was under an onslaught, the likes of which couldn’t even compare to the two young girls. At least triple the number of robots were hunting the young man through the city, and that was after he’d already seemingly destroyed at least half of them. Despite this, the young man was easily weaving between the robots and their attacks while simultaneously dipping in and out of cover to avoid the veritable storm of ammunition and ordnance being flung his way. He wasn’t just running, Maijima realized. He was actually counterattacking as he went, as well as trying to save his fellow examinees from the insanity, one of whom was actually trying to keep up with and help the poor man.

A plasma bolt here, another there, each and everyone hitting its target. His jaw joined the other professors’ on the floor when he watched the young man rip the tail clean off a two-pointer with his bare hands and use it to bat another robot through a building.

The president smiled now. All sharp teeth and gleeful excitement. “It's been so long since I’ve had this kind of a challenge! Let's see how he deals with this.” The president hit the button for the zero-pointer and reached for his keyboard again when Maijima decided that he’d seen enough.

“Oh, hell no.” He quickly stepped across the room and picked the president up by his collar. Of course, Nedzu wasn’t about to leave his station that easily. Flailing around like a petulant child, he yelled for Maijima to put him down while Maijima yelled back at him. “No sir. I will not put you down. This is an entrance exam, not a god damn-” There was a loud beep and the room plunged into a horrified silence as the zero-pointer announced what button had been hit in their struggle. Final examination procedures engaged. All safety measures disabled.

…

Izuku had found the something that the president had done to make his testing area harder. Or rather, it had found him. Initially, he had planned to carve his way through the extra robots and prove his point like that. It became readily apparent that wasn’t an option. Tens of robots were coming out of literally every nook and cranny in the city, and they were all gunning for him.

What should have been only a twenty-minute exam had stretched seemingly into eternity. It was one thing for him to have to destroy all of these bots, he could live with that. Most of the examinees had decided that getting involved in the clusterf*ck that was his exam was a bad idea. Occasionally, he’d get help from someone attempting to pick off one or two on the edge of the horde while the bots were distracted, but for the most part, he’d been trying to keep away from the other examinees to keep things fair for them.

Izuku dove under another robot, slamming his fist up and tearing the wiring out of it before moving on. Aizawa had asked him before the examination to refrain from using Phoenix’s aid during the exam. He’d agreed, because it wouldn’t exactly be fair for him to know everyone and everything’s location. Izuku was feeling intense regret at that decision, as once again, he had to dive in front of another person that got caught in the middle of the swarm before launching himself through a nearby window with the examinee.

...

“You alright?” Izuku took a moment to wave dust out of his way and take a look at who he had just saved from getting trampled. The young man looked entirely done with his life. His hair, a mess of indigo with eyes to match, shook as the guy tried to stop the ringing out of his ears. Izuku wanted to snort at the comparison his brain made to Eraser when he caught sight of the exhausted expression and dark eye bags but reminded himself about time and place.

“Yeah, I think so. Just a bit of ringing in the ears. Thanks for pulling me out of the way, I guess.” Izuku quirked an eyebrow and wanted to ask what he meant by that when the rubble crunched behind them. Izuku spun in place, knee slamming into the ground as he stabilized and fired a bolt through the two-pointer that had somehow made it into the building. sh*t.

“If one made it in then the others won’t be far behind it. What’s your name? Quirk?” The young man gave him a suspicious look before asking why. Izuku couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the suspicion. It wasn’t a bad thing, per se. A healthy dose of suspicion could keep you alive. But it should be easy enough to figure out why, in this case. “Because we need to get out of here before those damn bots bring the building down on our heads.”

“Shinso Hitoshi, my quirk is brainwashing. If you respond, I can take control of you…” Shinso clearly hesitated before telling him his quirk, and Izuku felt his heart squeeze. He knew full well how a quirk like that could impact someone's life.

“Right, nonphysical, and no use against robots. You’ve been going after the switches I take it?” Shinso jerked to look at Izuku with wide eyes. He hadn’t left him here. He hadn’t spit in his direction, and he had responded.

“S-Switches?” Good going, Hitoshi. Respond like an idiot to the first person who doesn’t immediately revile you. Izuku sighed before spinning on his heel to launch another bolt.

“I see why Aizawa said that this exam is unfair to nonphysical quirks now. Yes, there are shut off buttons on each of the robots under a thin panel. The button is in the same place on every robot of its type. Follow me, let's get you some points.”

“Wha- Why? Why would you help me?” Shinso followed along behind Izuku, who was leading his way out of the building, thoroughly confused.

“Are you serious? We have seven or eight minutes left at best. You will fail if I don’t help, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let a quirk that useful to hero work get rejected because of a piss poor testing system. Now speed up. We’ve not got a whole lot of time.”

…

Izuku had made a mistake. Oh, don’t get him wrong. Helping Shinso wasn’t the mistake. He’d do that again every time, and with the rate he was blowing the legs off of bots and Shinso was finishing them off, then he was safe. The mistake was that he hadn’t prepared to fight alongside someone against robots. He was overlapping memories now. It wasn’t the same. Different robots, different people, different situations, different reasons. Izuku chanted it in his head as the buildings around them overlapped with the flames and Shinso was replaced by his squadmate shoving a knife into the neck of an automaton. A rubber bullet from one of the three-pointers connected with his ribs and snapped him out of his hallucination with a gasp. f*cking hell. Even wearing the undersuit, that still hurts like hell. He heard Shinso call out, asking if he was okay, and he managed to yell back an affirmative before the ground quaked.

The robots suddenly stopped acting like they each had an A.I. controlling them and reverted back to what he could only assume was their default behavior pattern. It gave him just enough breathing room to look up and see a gods damned building-sized robot tearing a hole in the city.

Shinso’s eyes shot wide as the debris from the buildings was sent flying everywhere. Izuku was snarling, and Shinso was struck by how god damn scary the guy helping him was that he could see something like that and not be freaked out by it.

“That must be the zero-pointer. It’s not worth getting involved with. Let’s clean up these last few bots around here. It seems like whoever was hunting me has stopped controlling the-”

Final examination procedures engaged. All safety measures disabled.

Both of them simply stood there in shock. While Izuku grimaced, muttering something about a damned rat, Shinso could feel his knees wanting to give out. “That can’t be right. Surely the staff wouldn’t endanger the examinees' lives by-” A cry of pain reached their ears as a young girl was trapped under some of the falling rubble. The zero-pointer drew its arm back, intending to slam it into the girl.

Izuku could see it happening in slow motion. The fist making contact, the pile of meat that would be left over, the blood and fire. A young girl draped over the body of her bloodied mother crying as an automaton reached for her throat. Not again. NOT AGAIN. The earth shattered around Izuku and Shinso stumbled, looking over only to find his companion’s rifle in the new crater where he had been standing.

…

Ochako Uraraka had been having a fairly good time of it. Well, far better than she had thought it would go. As it turned out, while the robots were giant slabs of steel, they weren’t nearly as heavy as she had thought they were going to be. The guy from before had been right! If she just floated the bots off and dropped them, they would be out of commission. On top of that, she’d been able to untrap several of her fellow examinees! Even if it didn’t get her any points, it had certainly felt good to help out.

When the zero-pointer appeared, it all went wrong. There were only a few minutes left, and she needed to get away, needed to find some more points before the exam ended. The debris raining down upon them was problematic, though, as she could feel her quirk’s drawbacks piling onto her, and when a slab landed on the back of her legs, she cried out both in pain and because she knew that she wasn’t going to be able to float it off of her. When she looked up and saw the fist hurtling towards her, she closed her eyes and cried. I’m sorry, mom and dad. Guess I won’t be able to fulfill my promise, after all. The impact never came.

…

Somewhere in Izuku, he knew that what he was doing was stupid, dangerous, and downright unsafe. He could have grabbed her and run. Could have simply avoided the situation he was in now by ramming the fist out of the way. Right now, Izuku didn’t care. It was one thing for the president to endanger his life. He was fine with that, he had signed up for that. But there was no way he was going to stand by and let someone else get hurt. No one else was going to die when he was there. The voice still screamed in his head to save her. Not Again.

Izuku stood there now under several tons of steel actively bearing down on him. He had pushed himself hard to close the distance and block the fist that would have killed the girl, and he could feel the muscles knitting themselves back together in his legs from where they had torn. His body was evidently not as settled into its augmentations as he’d thought.

Izuku turned his head, wearing a warm, reassuring smile as he looked down at the young woman that he had spoken to before the beginning of the examination. “Hey there. Looked like you could use a hand. Close your eyes and plug your ears for me, alright? This is going to be a bit loud.” The girl stared up at him in awe as he held the fist back before snapping to and vigorously nodding her head. She clenched her eyes shut and plugged her ears as well as she could.

Izuku let the smile shift into a snarl as he drew on the anger that he felt. His eyes shifted, glowing brighter as he turned his head back to the giant robot that he’d been holding in place. You wanted to test me, Nedzu? Well here’s what I think of your test. Izuku pulled the fist closer before launching it away from himself and dropping into a low stance. As the robot once again came hurtling down towards him, Izuku twisted his body, coiling, and slammed his fist into the robot’s. The world was drowned in the screech of tearing metal and dyed in the orange hues of cascading explosions.

Chapter 22: Chapter #22 | Necessary Subterfuge

Chapter Text

The world bathed in the sounds of screeching metal as the Zero Pointer was torn apart from the inside out. Impact force caused the metal to shear apart as it traveled upwards and internal systems overloaded and tore themselves free. Any examinee that could see the gigantic robot could do nothing but stare as plumes of orange crimson smoke were discharged in a series of cascading system failures.

Uraraka still had her eyes closed and her ears plugged, but even then she could hear the roar of explosions and see the flashes of light. The atmosphere changed, and she knew she was safe, that somehow the guy from before had dealt with the massive robot. She cracked one eye a bit to see what was going on, sue her, she was curious, and was blown away by what she saw.

She could see the man's back from where he stood, broad and strong, coiled with tension and pain. He breathed heavily, releasing what looked like steam from his mouth, much like the fog of a winter morning. His arm hung limply at his side and blood dripped from his knuckles where the skin had been torn apart. His shirt was gone, revealing his holster and revolver, fitted over the tight black undersuit that was being worn underneath. Her eyes traced up his injured arm. The undersuit had been shredded and hung in strips around his muscles. Oh wow, those muscles. Ochako could feel her eyes being dragged almost against her will across his body.

She couldn’t help but wince when he simply reached over and grabbed his clearly dislocated arm at its wrist before pulling it forward and straight in front of him. Ochako unplugged her ears just in time to hear him hiss as the ball of his arm bone clicked back into its socket.

Izuku took a deep breath before putting on a careful smile and turning back to the girl still trapped under a pile of rubble. “That was rather scary, wasn’t it? Let’s do our best to get you out of there.” Izuku reached down, carefully picking the pieces of rubble off the girl and tossing them to the side.

The siren indicating the end of the exam rang out through the arena, and Uraraka watched as the man’s eyes flicked upwards towards the sound for the briefest of moments before he returned to his task. As the last of the rubble came off her back, she tried to move, only to be met with the man's hand keeping her in place. “Woah there. Don’t move yet. We don't know what kind of damage that debris landing on you might have done. Let me check you over before we move you. My name is Midoriya Izuku, yours?”

Ochako couldn’t help but blush slightly and stutter out a response. “I-I’m Uraraka Ochako. T-Thank you for saving me.” Midoriya had been carefully examining her for injuries and, at this, rocked back on the heels of his feet.

“Don’t mention it. What kind of a person would I be if I didn’t give someone help when they needed it? By the looks of things, you got lucky. No spinal injuries or lacerations. You did break your leg and you’ll be sore, but that isn’t anything the school nurse can’t handle.” Reaching out carefully, Midoriya picked Uraraka up and, despite her sputtering, began to carry her back towards the entrance where he knew Ms. Shuzenji would be waiting to tend to the plethora of injuries that occurred during the exam.

Ochako had prepared herself for a lot of things that day. Failure, success, giant killer robots, and even getting herself seriously hurt trying to get into the hero course. What she had not prepared herself for was to be carried in the arms of a six-foot man. Much less a man that had the physique of a greek god. Uraraka couldn’t help her face when it heated up, and she certainly wouldn’t have come out of her mental spiral if it weren’t for Midoriya suddenly stopping and sighing.

When she looked around, confused, Uraraka found one very tired looking purple-haired body with Midoriya’s rifle on one shoulder and the other hanging limply, much like Midoriya’s had been before he resocketed it. Izuku chuckled darkly, the rumble of his chest transmitting to his companion. “You tried to shoot it, didn’t you?”

“What the hell else was I supposed to do? You suddenly disappeared on me.” The purple boy glared at Midoriya while Midoriya glared back at him. Uraraka felt rather awkward being in the middle of this until both boys started laughing all of a sudden.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re alright. Let’s get you to Recovery Girl as well, shall we?” The walk was relatively short with the company. She learned the purple boy was one Shinso Hitoshi and once you got him talking was a pretty funny guy. Evidently, they weren’t the only ones Midoriya had saved, because the moment they reached the medical tent, Recovery Girl had spotted them and started yelling at and beating Midoriya with her cane. Ochaco was doing her best to not laugh, resulting in giggles slipping out, and even Shinso was struggling to choke down his snorts.

“Do you have any idea how many students you bruised the hell out of! Stop! Making! More! Work! For! Me!” Each word was accentuated with a smack of the small women's cane, and Izuku could do nothing more than try to shield his face as the blows rained down on him. “GAH. Just get out. Out! I will take care of your friends here. Nedzu probably wants to see you anyway, and I suspect after that showing, you’re wanting to speak with him. He’s in the observation room with the other professors.”

Izuku’s eyes narrowed and everyone shivered. “Oh yes. Thank you, Ms. Shuzenji. I do believe I’ll go do that now.” Midoriya turned as if to leave and Uraraka called for him, remembering something. “Oh, wait! We should all exchange numbers first. That way we can talk.” Shinso gave her a strange look before glancing at Izuku and shrugging. Can’t be worse than when my classmates got my number.

“Sorry guys, I’ve not got my phone on me right now, but here.” Reaching into one of his pockets, Midoriya quickly produced two small business cards. “Stop by sometime. We’d love the company.” Midoriya quickly exited the medical tent while Ochako gave him a strange look. Wasn’t his fist torn up?

…

The robot on-screen exploded as it was ripped apart from the force imparted upon it. The teachers watching had completely forgotten to observe the other exam sites, because all of their eyes were glued to the sight of Midoriya snarling and punching the Zero Pointer. Nedzu was the first to snap out of his shock, although he was still shaken from what he had just witnessed. “I, ah, may have underestimated how dangerous young Midoriya is.”

Everyone in the room except for All Might turned to give their president the most deadpan stare they could before the silence shattered into a dozen voices yelling a variety of things. All Might was staring at the screen with a massive smile, and Nedzu made a note to keep an eye on him. Sekijiro was the first to speak up after Nedzu had regained control of the room.

“He lied. No way in hell that was the work of someone who is quirkless.” Much of the room agreed with him, while several others shook their heads. Both Midnight and Ectoplasm agreed with Kan, while Snipe sat very still.

“Ah had to run him through a full check fur his carry license. He was diagnosed quirkless at age four when it didn’t come in, was tested for ah quirk when he was put into ah coma, and recently had it redone to give the disbelief in the media some closure after the slime villain incident. He’s quirkless.”

“That isn’t possible though” Kayama chimed in now with a serious face. “Okay, sure, with the proper training and experience someone, even someone quirkless, could move like how he moved. Fight like how he fought. But he’s only eighteen! Where the hell would he get that level of training or experience? That not even taking into consideration that he punched a building-sized robot to pieces in one shot.”

“I don’t particularly care either way.” Everyone turned to find Maijima nursing a bottle of what looked suspiciously like whiskey. Where the hell had he pulled that from?! “Do you know how much repair work I have to do now?! God damn it all…”

Hound Dog rumbled from where he was sitting and watching the examinees filter out of the testing zones. “As much as I hate to agree, it doesn’t really matter at the moment if he is or is not quirkless. What matters is that we have a student we need to keep an eye on. We don’t know what he’s capable of or how he’s gotten like that. Besides that, we need to shelve this conversation. He’s coming our way and he looks pissed.”

…

Izuku was indeed pissed, and when he literally kicked the steel door into the observation room off its hinges, Nedzu couldn’t help but scream in the back of his mind. A good number of the professors had filed out of the room, leaving the chimera with Aizawa and Snipe, both of whom had stayed under the pretext of needing to speak with the boy for some reason or another.

Izuku’s eyes glowed an unearthly green, and Nedzu shuddered when he noticed the boy's pupils were shifting into slits. His face was twisted now in a grimace, and when he spoke, it came out a growl. “You have thirty seconds to explain what the f*ck that was. You want to test me? Push me? Almost kill me? Fine. I signed up for your patent brand of crazy. Those other examinees didn’t. You came entirely too close to killing them with your bullsh*t.”

Nedzu could do nothing to refute the statements, as much as he would like to. “It was a mistake. A rather egregious mistake, but a mistake all the same. The Zero Pointer was never intended to have its restrictions rescinded, and we are truly sorry for any trouble it may have caused you during the exam.”

Izuku could feel his eye twitch at the canned response. “Oh, was it a mistake? Then I guess I’ll have to go have a long conversation with Powerloader regarding his programming of the bots then, won’t I?” Nedzu paled underneath his fur and made a mental note to send Maijima both a warning and a bonus for dealing with what he’d brought down on him. “And you’re apologizing to me? The person you need to be apologizing to is the one in the medical tent right now who got her leg broken and very nearly got her gods damned spine broken because of your mistake.”

Nedzu winced as he realized his wording hadn’t been great there. “Alright, your point is made. That was a poor choice of words. What do you want to keep this quiet, Midoriya?” Aizawa’s eyes went wide and even Snipe turned his mask-covered face to stare at their president. He was going to try to sweep this under the rug?

Midoriya smiled a cold smile and took a seat now before turning to them and pinning them in place. “In this case, you’ll be allowing Miss Uraraka into the hero course. You did, after all, ruin her chances in the exam. You will also be grading Mr. Shinso fairly, yes? No taking points off for me technically disabling the robots first.”

The teachers waited for more demands to come, and when none came, they were surprised. Hesitantly, Nedzu spoke now. “Will that be everything, Midoriya?”

“I do believe that is everything I’m asking for, unless, of course, you can think of something I missed? I also believe that I passed your exam, am I wrong?”

Slowly, Nedzu nodded, wary of whatever he wasn’t quite catching. “I can accept those conditions. You did indeed pass. You can begin moving into the hero dorms in a week when we send out the acceptance letters.” Izuku quirked his brow, and Nedzu explained his question, already knowing what it was even before he was finished. “All hero course students are required to live on campus. For the students in the hero course, this is more of a four-year bootcamp than it is a college.”

Izuku nodded his head. He understood full well and could appreciate that this wasn’t some game to them. “Alright. Snipe, may I have my gear back?” Hesitantly, Snipe pulled Izuku’s sidearms out of his belts and handed them over to Midoriya, surprised when the young man handed him his revolver.

Izuku shrugged, “I don’t need it. It’s technically not legal, as it has no serial numbers, and I figure you may as well put it in the armory. It’s an old model, but a sidearm is a sidearm. Could be useful for starting your third years’ firearm training.” Snipe would have loved to take the plasma rifle, as well, if only to disassemble it and find out how it worked, but he had a feeling pushing that right now would be a bad idea.

…

Izuku had made it most of the way to the university gates when Aizawa caught up with him. “Problem child.” Izuku turned and raised his eyebrows, snorting at the nickname.

“I’m hardly a child, sir.”

“Yes, well you’re all children to the professors here, and until you’ve got your license, it’ll stay that way. I’ve not seen the president squirm like that before. You could have gotten more out of him, and if I know that, then you know that. Why didn’t you?”

Midoriya began to shrug when he stopped halfway through the movement and sighed. “The best deals are the ones where both sides walk away feeling like they screwed the other. Not that I wasn’t pissed, mind you. I still am. But I got what I wanted from it, and anything else would have just been overkill. Especially when I plan on attending the institution. I’m guessing you didn’t just catch up to me to ask that though?”

Aizawa shook his head. “No, I didn’t. At the start of every year, I play a little game with the students. I need to know how capable they are and their potential. As you apparently know, I’ve expelled plenty and have no qualms with doing it day one.” Izuku snorted because of the understatement. There was a reason there was no class 2-A currently. “Yes, well. Considering how you react to these things, you’d just ruin my entrance to the class. So rather than have that occur, how would you like to play a little game with me?”

Izuku smiled now, an excited, sharp smile that Aizawa returned with his tired bloodshot eyes. He purred out his words now. “Oh sir, you do really know how to cheer a problem child up. I have the perfect idea, too.”

…

Yaoyorozu was excited and extremely nervous. She had put so much effort into memorizing everything from atomic structures to other countries' histories. She had even managed to get through the recommendation exam, much to her surprise. She had practically been certain that she was going to fail and have to take the normal entrance exam. Nervously, she pushed through the main doors of the dormitory. She’d never stayed with other people before. Would they like her? Was she good enough to be here?

Momo shook her head. She’d gotten through the test, hadn’t she? Maybe six steps in the door with her suitcase, she had tripped over the entry rug. Oh well, I guess that’s a sign, isn’t it? Momo braced herself for the impact of hardwood floors that never came. “A-Are you okay, ma’am?”

Her eyes snapped open, and it took her a moment to realize that she was being held up by a pair of very masculine arms. Midoriya?! Looking up as she regained her footing, she was met by a well-built man that most certainly wasn’t Izuku. He was shorter, and his facial features plumper, without the stress lines that had already begun to ingrain themselves into Midoriya’s face, despite his age. His eyes and hair were a shade of silver she’d only seen on her kitchen utensils, while black streaked through his hair, breaking it up. Why am I thinking about Mr. Midoriya at a time like this?

“I-I’m rather sorry for grabbing you l-like that. I just didn’t want you to hityourheadoranything.” Momo stared for a long moment as the young man descended into a panicked storm of words before she rapidly waved it off.

“No, no, I should be thanking you. It was a massive help, and you saved me what could have been a major injury. So thank you for that. Is anyone else here?”

The young man couldn’t help but blush, and he shook his head. “N-No, we’re the o-only ones here right now. I-I’m sure that plenty of people will s-start showing up by the e-end of the day though! W-We all have to be here before sundown o-or we forfeit our s-spot in the hero course.”

Momo couldn’t help but smile at the young man who barely seemed to be keeping himself from descending into a nervous wreck. “Well, I’ll be sure to settle in before everyone gets here then, so I can greet everyone as they get here. I’m Yaoyorozu Momo, and you are?” She reached out to shake his hand and was surprised when he stared at her in awe for a moment.

“A-As in the daughter of the Yaoyorozu Industries? I-It's suchanhonortomeet-” Momo’s laugh cut him off as he realized what he was doing again, and she watched as a blush spread across his face. “S-Sorry” he took her hand in his and gave her a shaky smile “I-I’m Iwasaki Hiroki! I look forward to working with y-you!”

Chapter 23: Chapter #23 | The Viper in the Midst

Chapter Text

Throughout Saturday, each and every one of the students trickled their way into the dorms. Each with their own quirks, both personality and otherwise, to bring to the dorm. For the most part, they all quickly relegated themselves to their rooms to unbox and adjust to the housing that they would be sharing for the next four years. That was, of course, if they could survive the classes.

Izuku had smiled as each trailed into the dorm with their belongings and had made sure to pay special attention to several. While each of the students currently knew him by the bogus name Iwasaki Hiroki, and oh boy, Aizawa’s reaction to his body shifting in front of him had been golden, Izuku had been very careful to lay inconsistencies in the ones he introduced himself to. This was a test of their perception skills, not a fake identity that he needed to integrate with for a long time.

One moment, the boy was nervous, stuttering, scared of his own shadow. The next, he was the kind gentleman that made chests pound and hearts yearn. He’d been trained as a ghost, and that training came in handy here. Himiko and Kyoka had recognized him for a fake very rapidly, and that pleased him as much as it would Aizawa. Izuku got to see his training pay off, and Aizawa got to have at least two students that paid attention to details. All the same, though, they wouldn’t give up the game after he gestured for them to keep it quiet.

Izuku stood at one of the many mirrors in the men's showers, the blue-bronze sun barely having crested the horizon, and smiled at the reflection in the mirror. Silver eyes and hair stared back from a face not of his own, and he knew he had one day before classes began and the ruse was revealed. It was going to be a fun day.

…

Unsurprising for Izuku, the first one to filter into the common area for the day for Shinso. The boy had spoken with Izuku about his insomnia over the week he had been waiting for his results. Hitoshi had found it strange that he was able to reach Izuku at pretty much any time of the day, and they’d gotten on the topic from there.

While Izuku wasn’t all that surprised, Shinso was very surprised to find someone up and moving around in the kitchen when he wandered down. He was even more surprised when he found that it was a silver-haired pretty boy bouncing around the kitchen, cooking what looked like a mountain of bacon and oh god that’s coffee isn’t it?

Out of the corner of his eye, Izuku watched as Shinso beelined straight for the french press and its fresh coffee, smirking in his head. That’s one guard down. “O-Oh hello, good morning. Did you sleep well? I-I’m Iwasaki Hiroki. I-I hope the coffee is to your l-liking, I-I just m-made it and hadn’t been expecting c-company.”

Hitoshi looked up from where he had just poured a pot of the liquid gold to the doe-eyed boy that was now staring at him and his mug. Shinso looked back down to his cup before taking a sip. He barely kept his mug upright as his legs gave out from under him, and he let out a moan that would have given anyone outside the kitchen the wrong idea entirely. “That. Is. Amazing.”

Hitoshi could have sworn that if the word euphoria had a flavor, then he had just found it. When he told Iwasaki as much, he was blessed with a smile so bright and happy that it dulled the sun and an exuberant hug. Shinso tensed under the sudden grip, doing his best not to offend the happy boy when he extricated himself from his grasp. Nope, too early for this. After being told breakfast was to soon follow, Shinso squirreled away several pieces of already completed bacon and the coffee before escaping back out into the common room.

…

It was barely half an hour before the early risers of the dorm were drawn down to the common room by the fragrance of food wafting through the building. Iida Tenda was the first into the common area, though he wasn’t alone. Most of the dorm was up and awake, so once they caught the scent, everyone started trickling down and into the common room slowly, confused as to where the smell was coming from.

A smile came easily to Izuku’s face. He’d had to fake them for years, even before he had become responsible for a unit of soldiers. Then, once he had, morale was important to consider, so the skill only got refined further. Iida had been surprisingly helpful. Once the man had learnt Iwasaki was cooking for everyone, he had volunteered to gather everyone up. Izuku had desperately wanted to laugh when Iida began to look more like a robot than a human as he spoke and jerked his hands around. “One of our classmates has been kind enough to go through the effort of cooking us a meal. As such, we should all eat it, and it is a perfect time to introduce ourselves!”

Perhaps he’s not the ass he came off as. By the time Izuku placed the final platter on the kitchen island and stepped out into the common area, Iida had managed to gather the entirety of class 1-A into the common area, albeit some were far more awake than others. Izuku made sure to take note of several that were basically asleep on their feet.

“Thanks for getting everyone together, Iida.” Izuku stepped up beside the tall man, sliding his fingernail across the side of Iida’s neck before settling on his shoulder. Iida made another series of robotic gestures with a short speech on the benefits of camaraderie. Izuku beamed a smile at him as he turned to address the class, only to get cut off by the one person he’d prefer to not deal with at all.

“The f*ck did you have four eyes get us all up for, huh? It's f*cking Sunday and we have classes starting tomorrow, asshole.” The room gaped at Bakugo Katsuki as if he’d just grown a second, and then a third, head. They were all adults here, of course, but when the first two sentences out of his mouth had three curses in it, well, it had startled them. Even Izuku was momentarily caught off guard. He had expected even Katsuki to show a little more decorum.

Iida wasted no time in beginning a stern lecture on his language, while Izuku couldn’t help but glare coldly at the manchild that he’d once had the pleasure of calling a friend. How to deal with him. Hmm. No one was paying attention to Izuku, due to the now yelling powder keg in the middle of the common room. He let a cold, sharp smile ghost over his lips, because he knew exactly what he could do here to throw up red flags. If none of them act on this, they are probably doomed in this test.

Katsuki was getting into Iida’s face now, yelling profane insults as Iida cited regulations and rules. Yaoyorozu was trying to get in between them and defuse the situation, while most of the class watched with a variety of emotions, from amusem*nt to unease. Several were worried that the scuffle was going to escalate further when the air itself seemed to freeze. Momo was going to look over to Todoroki and see what was happening when the atmosphere shifted again and it was like the air was sucked out of everyone's lungs.

Oppressive didn’t even begin to describe what it was. The air itself was suddenly unfit for consumption. It prickled the skin with needles and was frigid on the membrane. Each labored, hitching breath felt like it was trying to flay their lungs from the inside. They could see it on each other's faces, the sudden abject terror that came with their own bodies rejecting their commands in favor of freezing like statues. Then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone, leaving everyone gasping for air, as if they had never had anything so sweet.

“U-Um, p-please don’t a-argue guys. We’re l-letting the food get cold. T-There is plenty f-for everyone. P-Please go ahead h-help yourselves.” The room was still on edge from whatever that had been, but the mention of food got them moving again. The moment quickly passed once people began filtering through the kitchen and back out to the large, class-sized dining table that rested to one side of the room. Izuku narrowed his eyes once again and sucked on his teeth, because nobody outside of his trainees and two others seemed to question what they’d just experienced.
…

It wasn’t long before breakfast was winding down. Initially, there had been some talking between people seated next to one another and, occasionally, someone sitting across would break in with a comment or two. But that quickly died once the class started to taste the food in front of them. Izuku had prepared something of a continental breakfast that morning, as he didn’t know all of their preferences.

Izuku was a little concerned when Kaminari started crying, but the compliments he was paying Iwasaki in between bites made Izuku decide that it wasn’t a bad thing. Izuku scanned everyone as they ate their food, looking for any signs of suspicion or question, but outside of his two trainees, seemingly no one was suspicious of the banquet that had been provided to them. Even when Izuku went around running his hand across their necks and shoulders, asking if everything was satisfactory.

Appreciative, grateful, joyous, indebted, and obliged were all emotions he spotted, but no negative responses outside of Bakugo’s plate being more tabasco sauce than egg, but he was doing his best to ignore that.

They’ve been at peace for a very long time. Izuku forced himself to remember. This world has been peaceful, as far as they know, since the third world war. They have no reason to look for danger everywhere. No reason to check for poison in their food. Even with the reminder, Izuku had to force back the whispers in his head, telling him that it wouldn’t last. That the peace was just a farce to cover the next move.

Momo placed her utensils down and stood before turning to Izuku. “Iwasaki, I have to say thank you for the meal. It was incredible, and despite what you had to work with, it was on par with the chefs at my home.” A real, sunny smile came to Izuku’s face now, and this time it was easy. He had learnt from the best, his mother, and any compliments for his cooking were inextricably tied back to her.

Kyoka stifled a snort as she caught a muttered lucky bitch from Kaminari before Yaoyorozu continued. “I do believe now would be a fantastic time for everyone to introduce themselves. Since we have everyone here.”

Katsuki let out a short, barking laugh before pushing away from the table and beginning to stalk off. “I have no need for knowing you damn extras. You’re all stepping stones for me anyway. Thanks for the food I guess though. It wasn’t sh*t.”

The table was stunned, but Momo, simply glad the situation hadn’t devolved again, snapped back and continued with her own introduction. She cleared her throat, drawing attention back to her. “My name is Yaoyorozu Momo, and my quirk is Creation. It allows me to create anything nonliving, as long as I understand the atomic configuration of it.” The class was quick to ignore the departure of Bakugo, several already pegging him as an unpleasant mess. Izuku’s eyes narrowed in on Momo though. Kyoka and I had to leave before she told us her quirk. That is beyond useful, and not just for hero work.

The pink girl, who had been bouncing in her seat since she’d stolen a bit of the coffee from Shinso, jumped up now. “I’m Ashido Mina, and my quirk is Acid! It was great in the exam because I didn’t have to worry about hurting someone!” She twirled in place for everyone to get a good look at her. Several people laughed, and the atmosphere eased with the energetic pink girl’s bouncing and comedy.

The introductions eased out after that, and Izuku had to do his best to keep his character for now. As much as he wanted to play twenty questions with some of their quirks, it would have to wait. Iida Tenya: Quirk Engine, Asui Tsuyu: Quirk Frog, Ojiro Mashijiao: Quirk Tail, Koji Koda: Quirk Anivoice, Shoji Mezo: Quirk Dupliarms, Jiro Kyoka: Quirk Earjack, Sero Hanta: Quirk Tape, Kaminari Denki: Quirk Electrification, Kirishima Eijiro: Quirk Hardening.

Izuku filed away the quirks under interesting but not anything out of the ordinary. He already knew everyone's names. He wasn’t about to sleep in the same building without knowing that much, at least. Uraraka Ochako: Quirk Zero Gravity, Hagakure Toru: Quirk Invisibility. Izuku filed those two away. He’d had the thought at the entrance exam that something wasn’t right with Uraraka’s quirk. Not that he thought she was hiding something, nothing was indicating that, but it was like she didn’t know her own quirk. Hagakure, in the meantime, could be the key to solving the issue he and Mei had been having with the cloaking tech. It worked as a stationary field, but a moving one? They couldn’t get it to hold its integrity.

Hagakure poked the girl sitting next to her, only to jolt back when the girl jumped up, looking startled. “Ah, I sorry. It is still middle of night where I from. I having hard time with. Je- Jet La-” Izuku chuckled a bit and threw her a bone.

“*Jet Lag Right?*” The girl’s eyes lit up with recognition and excitement when Izuku spoke English.

“*You speak English! I’m sorry, I’m still trying to fully learn Japanese.*” Momo stared at Iwasaki, because when had he learnt English? He’d been struggling with English last night when they were talking about their class schedule. How is he speaking it so well now?!

“*It’s alright, just do your best. Either Yaoyorozu or I can help you if you need it.*” Pony nodded rapidly before turning back to the class at large.

“I Tsunotori Pony, can just call me Pony. I from America and Quirk is Horn Cannon. I detach my horns. Use as projectile.” Pony looked now to Iwasaki and Momo and, getting a nod from them, sat down with a smile.

Himiko stood next with a nervous expression. “My name is Toga Himiko, and my quirk is Transform.” The class looked at her carefully and, after a confused question from Sero, I don’t see anything odd though, she sighed. “I guess I might as well get this out of the way. I can transform into anyone if I’ve recently drank their blood.” It honestly hurt when she saw several of the class stiffen, but others were nodding. Tsu, as she’d told everyone to call her, was the first to croak out a response to it.

“Honestly kero, that would be amazing for stealth operations.” Himiko gave her a smile and decided that she was going to befriend the hell out of the frog.

Shinso stood right after Himiko sat down, rushing out his introduction, emboldened by the positive response to Himiko’s quirk. “My name is Shinso Hitoshi, and my quirk allows me to control anyone that responds to me.”

He waited, eyes clenched shut for the disgust, the murmurs, the jeering he was used to. Instead, he was startled when he heard a seat scape and his eyes snapped open to find Kirishima standing with his fists in the air. “That’s so cool! You could take down even All Might with that if he responded!” Hitoshi couldn’t help but blush. He still wasn’t used to positive feedback and sat down muttering thanks.

“Truly, the darker the shadow, the harder it is to control.” Hitoshi looked to his side and found the bird kid now standing. “My name is Tokoyami Fumikage, and my quirk is-”

“His quirk is me!” From underneath his shirt, another bird popped out, this one made entirely of shadow. “I’m Dark Shadow, and Fumi was going to sit down without introducing me!”

Tokoyami sighed, pushing Dark Shadow out of the way so he could see the rest of the class. “Yes, this beast of the darkness is my eternal companion. We truly thrive in the shadows.”

“Damn, Fumi. Why do you have to be so edgy all the time?” Izuku chuckled a little as he watched the two go back and forth. Even as he laughed, though, Izuku filed away a note to check into Dark Shadow. It seemed like they acted less as companions and more as master and servant. That likely wouldn’t work well as they moved forward. If there was something to convince him to see Dark Shadow differently, it would help.

That leaves Todoroki and me. Abruptly, said man stood, introducing himself in soft, clipped tones. “My name is Todoroki Shoto. My quirk is Half-Cold, Half-Hot. I can produce fire and ice from my body. I will never use my fire side.” Well, that’s concerning. Not that I don’t know the reason for that hesitance, but that mentality is poisonous.

Izuku realized everyone was staring at him and internally smiled. Alright, let's see if anyone catches the issue here. He stood and, making sure to shake a little, began to introduce himself. “M-My name i-is I-Iwasaki Hiroki. I c-can produce magnesium f-fires from the magnesium s-stored in my body.” Izuku flicked his wrists, letting some of the magnesium powder he’d been clutching poof up into the air, and set off a light electrical discharge from his hands.

Once again, Izuku was left sucking on his teeth when everyone simply accepted that at face value. The sparks in the air had distracted them from what he’d done, and Izuku hid his hands in his lap. His fried nerve endings screamed as charred skin from the electrical current regenerated. Momo had been staring at him like he was strange for a while, but had been doing so since he spoke English, so he doubted that she’d caught what he’d just done.

…

“Who are you?” Izuku turned to where he had heard the voice and couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Todoroki Shoto stood glaring at him.

“Wh-What d-do you m-mean, Todoroki? I-I already in-introduced myself earlier.”

Shoto narrowed his eyes at him and got closer. “I know what bloodlust feels like. I know a lie when I hear one, when I see one. You can either answer or I can take it to the faculty. Who. Are. You.” Midoriya couldn’t help the cold smile that came to his face now. His eyes glared back into Todoroki’s.

“Congratulations, Todoroki. You pass. Though, next time you suspect something like this,” Izuku whipped his hand up faster than Shoto could register, nail dragging across Todoroki’s neck, “go to the faculty first. You aren’t a hero yet. Confronting a potential security threat could get you killed without anyone any the wiser.” Izuku patted Todoroki on the shoulder. “But again, congrats. Be sure not to tell anyone else. The reveal will be tomorrow when class begins.”

Shoto stared, confused now, as the silver-haired man walked away, once again the nervous, stuttering wreck they were used to, while rubbing his throat in consternation.

…

The next morning when Pony’s alarm went off, she groaned and wanted to curl up into a little ball. Why didn’t I come to Japan earlier and avoid this issue? Groaning, she dragged herself from her bed and began to get ready, pulling her uniform from its hanger and turning to her mirror. The first thing she noticed was the sweet scent of dark roast coffee. The second thing she noticed was the fresh cup of it sitting on the shelf next to her mirror with a little note.

Pony, I figured you might need a wake-up call this morning, all things considered. So drink this, you should be good for the rest of the day. ~Iwasaki Hiroki

Pony smiled as she read the note, though she was confused as to when he had come in and placed the coffee there. It hadn’t been there when she woke up. She took a sip and immediately had to fight back the gag as her spine ramrodded itself straight. Holy- that’s strong. Wow, I’m awake now. That’s some good sh*t.

…

One by one, Izuku watched as the students of class 1-A trickled into the classroom. He’d left that morning early so that he could report to Aizawa regarding his class’ inattention to detail. Pony’s coffee that morning was only the tip of the iceberg. He’d spent several hours the previous day simply testing their individual awareness.

He’d moved things around on Yaoyorozu without her ever noticing his presence. Bakugo had nearly exploded when his curtains kept getting folded and placed on his bed, with him in the room. And Mina, Kaminari, and Sero had somehow managed to not notice that he cheated in their boardgames six ways from Sunday, some of which he didn’t even bother trying to hide.

Everyone had found their seats in the classroom and immediately began speaking with each other. Izuku had the unfortunate displeasure of being seated directly behind the ticking time bomb that was Bakugo. Luckily, while Katsuki was a bully and a jackass, he was a massive quirkist, so he hadn’t begun tormenting anyone as of yet. As far as he knew, Iwasaki Hiroki had a quirk.

Iida spotted him shortly after yelling at Bakugo about his legs being up on the desk. “Iwasaki! I believed you were better than this! We are students of this fine establishment. As such, we must act like it! Where is your proper uniform?” Izuku glanced down and back at Iida. The thought of dropping the act now and telling him to pull the rod out of his ass occurred, but that would ruin Aizawa’s surprise.

What Midoriya was wearing was the proper uniform provided to him by the president for his class. Its pants and suit jacket were pitch black with gold detailing. Where one would expect the tassels for the hero course, you could instead find a bright silver UA resting atop a golden star. “Wh- B-But. T-This is the proper uniform, I-Iida? T-This is t-the one I was p-provided by the faculty.”

“Then I am very sorry!” Iida bowed to Midoriya, and over his left shoulder, he could see the yellow caterpillar that was Aizawa inching his way across the ground towards his podium. He could also see that, outside of himself, only Yaoyorozu and Todoroki had noticed it. Oh hell.

“If you are all here to socialize rather than learn, get out and don’t come back.” The class whipped their heads around to find the rather terse and very annoyed voice at the front of the room. “Eleven seconds to quiet down. Almost all of you are already disappointing me. That needs to stop. My name is Aizawa Shota, and I’ll be your homeroom professor while you're here at U.A.”

Kaminari was the first to speak up after that, indignation thick in his voice. “Sir, it's the first day, and we didn’t even know you were there. How could we have disappointed you already?” Several of the students nodded, seemingly agreeing with the sentiment.

“Who said that it’s your first day? You’ve been part of a test since you arrived, and so far, you are all lacking. Midoriya, go ahead.” Momo couldn’t help but whip her head around. Midoriya?! Where is he? Iwasaki stood and spoke now with a voice that made a vast majority of the class stiffen in their seats. His voice was deeper now, richer, more confident than they had heard from him before.

“Oh, I’ll gladly do so, sir.” He stepped towards the front of the room, and it was as if their entire perception of him shifted. He carried himself with absolute certainty now, and as he ran his hand through his hair, the silver shifted and darkened, returning to a verdant green while the hair itself elongated. Izuku turned, pulling his hair back into the ponytail he was used to having. The class watched as the silver in his eyes melted like spring snow and fell into a deep viridian that glowed with the shift.

“Allow me to reintroduce myself. I apologize for deceiving you all, but it was a necessary test. My name is Midoriya Izuku, and I’m quirkless.” He gave a small stage bow with a blankly courteous smile. Bakugo practically exploded in his seat, snarling.

“I should also note.” The lights clicked and the room was bathed in the purple violet light Yaoyorozu recognized as Ultraviolet. They all had crimson marks and streaks across their skin. She could feel the blood leach from her, her skin growing cold and clammy, as she realized that each of them ran over vital locations. Across throats, nicking jugulars, across eyes, and across their spines.

“You are all currently failing.”

Chapter 24: Chapter #24 | Sticks and Stones

Chapter Text

Aizawa watched as Midoriya changed from his cover identity back into himself. He watched as the shock leached into their eyes, followed by anger and confusion. Aizawa watched as that shock transformed into cognizance, as the lights changed to violet and then into fear as they looked at one another.

Yaoyorozu was the first to realize what she was seeing, and it showed when the blood drained from her face. It wasn’t long before students began muttering uneasily as they looked around at their fellow classmates' simulated wounds. It was an even shorter period before the class zeroed in on the two members of their class without any wounds at all and would have returned their gazes to Midoriya to ask questions were they not all caught off guard by the glowstick in the middle of the room.

Tokoyami was doing his best to shy away from his classmates' eyes but found it quite difficult when he glowed like he’d been dipped in a vat of fluorescents. “That is enough of that, I think. Everyone take one and meet me out on the grounds. You all have ten minutes. Anyone late is expelled.”

The class blinked as the lights flicked back into the normal spectrum and stared forward at their apparent homeroom teacher as he walked out of the room without another word. The moment the door closed behind him, chaos erupted. Questions rained down on Midoriya at varying pitches.

Calmly, Izuku picked up a uniform in his size and, turning to the class, raised one hand to the wall of noise. It took a few moments, but eventually, the cacophony settled and Izuku was able to speak. “I am sure that many of you have questions. Many of them will be answered in this coming test. Others I’ll be happy to answer myself later. But now isn’t the time. Aizawa wasn’t saying that to scare you all. He will expel you if you are late.”

The class was shocked. Someone they had thought they’d known had turned out to be someone else, their teacher was evidently more than happy to expel them on the first day, and Midoriya had dropped that on them before calmly turning and walking out of the room. It wasn’t long before everyone was scrambling from their seats to find their outfits and head for one of the many training grounds of U.A.

Izuku watched for a moment from the doorway as the situation sank in and everyone began to scramble. As he walked down the hallway, he reflected on the seething crimson eyes that had been pinning him since he revealed himself. Well, Bakugo, have you changed for the better? Or has all the counseling simply made things worse?

…

“Don’t you think that might have been a little overkill, Midoriya?”

Izuku couldn’t help but quirk his eyebrow at their teacher. Both of them were standing alone on the field, waiting for the class to finish changing. “You told me to scare them, didn’t you?”

Aizawa sighed heavily and shook his head. “I swear, the more time you and that damn rat spend together, the worse you both get. We both know they aren’t failing, nor did they need to be exposed to the idea of death on the first day. We both know you could have spurred them into trying harder without the dramatics, problem child.”

Izuku gave a small, grim snort before shaking his own head. “I could have, you’re right. But the fact of the matter is that too many of them clearly don’t understand what they are getting into. I’m not expecting them to know how to pick out a spy on the first day. I’m not expecting them to be alright with the idea of dying. I’m not even expecting them all to have perfect reasons for being a hero, sir. But I’m damn well not going to stand by and let one of them get killed because they treated this as a game.”

“That’s my job to worry about, Midoriya. Not yours. If they don’t have any potential, then they won’t be staying. But if they do, then there is no reason to eliminate them in their first year over their convictions, most certainly not on the first day. Even then, it isn’t your decision about what happens. Do I make myself clear?”

The two were still staring each other down when the other students all trickled out onto the field. The tense atmosphere did nothing to calm their nerves, and when Aizawa glanced down at his watch, the feeling didn’t abate. “Two minutes left. I expect that to be cut down to taking two minutes by the end of this year. Now, let’s get started.”

Uraraka wasted no time snapping her hand up with a confused expression on her face. “What about the entrance ceremony, sir?! Or the guidance sessions?!”

Aizawa glanced at her before looking back down to the clipboard he had. “A waste of time. You are all here to become heroes, not play around with school ceremonies. U.A. is known for the freedom it grants its teachers to create their own lesson plans. Today, we’ll be repeating athletics tests you’ve been given yearly since middle school. Softball toss, standing long jump, fifty-meter dash, long-distance running, grip strength, sit-ups, pushups, and your flexibility. This time, however, you’ll all be using your quirks. At this point, the Department of Education is just procrastinating the inevitable, and it’s illogical to not allow people to know what they are capable of. Midoriya, you are dismissed.”

The class had been relatively silent throughout their professor's explanation. They hadn’t said a word when he’d called the opening ceremonies a waste of their time. They had only made some excited rumblings when he had told them they would get to use their quirks. Now, it would seem, the peanut gallery had found a reason to speak up.

“That isn’t fair! Why doesn’t Midoriya have to do this as well?” Aizawa quirked his eyebrow at Sero and responded as if it were the most unreasonable question he’d gotten all day.

“Because I can’t accurately gauge his abilities with these tests obviou-” Bakugo snorted and interrupted Aizawa, causing that quirked brow to become furrowed.

“Isn’t it obvious, soy sauce? It’s because Deku’s a f*cking useless quirkless. The damn invalid wouldn’t be able to keep up with those of us that are proper people.” Aizawa felt his eye twitch at the blatant quirkist attitude. He’d barely opened his mouth to reprimand the behavior when a chill went down his spine and he saw Midoriya smile sharply from the corner of his eye.

“Oh, Bakugo. I see that you’ve still not grown out of that quirkist bullsh*t. I wish I could say I’m surprised, though I'm not, since you live in a gods damned echo chamber of mindless drivel.” Izuku practically purred his words as he stepped out in front of the student’s line. “Let’s settle this right now. How many of you think that the reason I was dismissed was my quirklessness? Go ahead and be honest. I won’t be angry with you. It is a fair guess, after all, even if it could be phrased better.”

About a third of the class raised their hands, and Izuku couldn’t help but feel a warm spot in his chest because, except for Katsuki, the rest at least seemed bashful about their assumption. Izuku nodded. “Like I said, fair enough of a deduction. I think it would be best if I participated, sir, if only so they don’t think I’m getting special treatment.”

Aizawa rolled his eyes and sighed. “How utterly illogical. Fine then. Throw the damn ball and get back in line. And no, I don’t need to keep it. I have a bag of them. Do whatever as long as you don’t leave the circle.” Aizawa tossed a slightly larger than average baseball to Midoriya as the two passed each other, one heading to the sidelines and the other to the painted circle on the ground. He’s about to do something dramatic again, isn’t he? At least Nedzu might get some accurate data out of this at least.

“Kyoka, do you have your sound dampers on?” The girl looked confused for a moment but nodded an affirmative. She didn’t tend to go anywhere without them. Izuku nodded and gave a small, pointed smile, showing off his sizable incisors. “I’d plug your ears, everyone. This may be a little loud.”

For the most part, the class complied, albeit a bit confused and slow on the uptake. Izuku took a traditional pitching stance and scanned the sky, as if he were looking for something special, and then smiled, muttering a single word with a genuine grin this time. Kyoka bit down on her lip, letting out a surprised snort before she could help herself. The class hadn’t heard, clearly, else they’d be confused.

Nothing they imagined did the actual toss justice. Izuku snapped his arm forward towards the sky faster than their eyes could see, and mere moments later, the air sundered apart with a boom that shook the earth where they stood. Even through the earplugs Momo made herself, her ears were still ringing as if a bomb had just gone off next to her. Several of the other students had fared even worse, as they were seemingly gesturing that they couldn’t hear a thing. The most startling to her, however, was that Jiro hadn’t even flinched. Doesn’t she have heightened hearing?!

Himiko was startled, because what the fresh f*ck was that Izuku?! But Kyoka hadn’t taken her eyes off of Midoriya. He might be good at masking the pain, but she’d known him long enough that she saw it behind his eyes and in the way he held his right arm. Dumbass overdid it again.

It wasn’t even a minute later when Mina popped up from her place on the ground. “THAT WAS AMAZING! This is going to be so much fu-” She didn’t even get through the words before her own voice was being overshadowed by the inane screaming of Bakugo and the repeated admonishing hand waving from Iida. So this is what set Midoriya off.

A glint of red flashed in everyone's field of view, only to be followed by Aizawa’s angry voice telling everyone to be quiet, danger practically seeping from him. “Please, Ashido, go ahead and finish that statement.” Several moments of nothing followed and Aizawa continued. “No? Well, that is likely for the best, because this is not supposed to be fun. We have only a few short years here to turn you all into respectable heroes. The people whose job it is to stop the many injustices in this world.

…

Aizawa was, frankly, impressed with this batch of first years. Most of this was owing to Midoriya and his cohorts, but he was mildly impressed all the same. The fifty-meter dash had been dominated by Tensei’s younger brother, and the similarity in their speed was there, even if Tenya was younger and less experienced than his older brother, clocking in at almost sixteen and a half meters per second.

What surprised the man, however, was that both Himiko and Jiro clocked in just behind Bakugo. They continued to impress him in their other examinations, as well, with Himiko transforming into Shoji to excel in grip strength, Jiro using her earjacks as an atlatl for the ball toss, or just by their general fitness, which as was proven in the sit-ups and push-ups. They were already far ahead of their peers.

That isn’t to say that there wasn’t potential in the rest of them. Yaoyorozu had taken second while Todoroki had taken third, firmly showing off exactly why they were recommended students. Iida had been consistent across the board, Tokoyami had worked decently well with his quirk to pull into seventh place just ahead of Himiko. Though, considering that Jiro had evidently been training with Midoriya longer, it wasn’t surprising that she pulled sixth and Himiko eighth.

Even the ones that had fallen into last place as the tests went on seemed as if they were giving it everything they had. Whether it was fear or determination, Aizawa couldn’t tell, but for now it didn’t matter. Even if they didn’t have training coming in, it didn’t matter. They’d get it here or drop out of the course.

All of this, of course, wasn’t even mentioning Midoriya. Frankly, Aizawa didn’t even want to rank Midoriya because it was such a bad test of his maximum capability. Cleared the long jump, maxed the grip strength machines, had literally blurred in the side steps, had folded into a damned pretzel during the flexibility tests, and had kept up with Yaoyorozu in the long-distance test. She had made a motorized scooter and he’d kept up with her. While holding a conversation. All of that didn’t even touch the damned ball toss number that came up or the fact that he beat Iida’s time by almost two seconds, clocking in at forty-one and a half meters per second. Honestly, Aizawa was starting to get worried that he was growing numb to Midoriya’s bullsh*t.

“With that, the testing is over. For those of you in last place, try harder. If you’re in front of the class, good. Don’t let your training slip. This is the starting line for each of you. I expect you’ll improve heavily from here. Here are the results.”

1 - Midoriya Izuku
2 - Yaoyorozu Momo
3 - Shoto Todoroki
4 - Katsuki Bakugo
5 - Tenya Iida
6 - Kyoka Jiro
7 - Fumikage Tokoyami
8 - Himiko Toga
9 - Shoji Mezo
10 - Mashijiao Ojiro
11 - Eijiro Kirishima
12 - Mina Ashido
13 - Ochako Uraraka
14 - Koji Koda
15 - Tsuyu Asui
16 - Pony Tsunotori
17 - Hanta Sero
18 - Denki Kaminari
19 - Hitoshi Shinso
20 - Toru Hagakure

“Go pick up a syllabus from the classroom and head back to the dorms. You’re all done for the day.” He hadn’t expelled anyone today, but it had been close. If Hagakure hadn’t put in the effort she did, he wouldn’t have hesitated. I’ll need to keep an eye on Bakugo though… Aizawa could accept stupid. He’d worked with quirkist assholes before, just look at Endeavour. But there had been too much anger in his eyes for that, and if Aizawa wasn’t wrong, a hint of fear.

…

The atmosphere when Aizawa left was notably relaxed. Many of them didn’t realize just how much tension there’d been until the man had left. Mina couldn’t help but sink to the ground with a cry. “I can’t believe we all survived. I could have sworn one of us was going to get kicked out. You know, after Midori’s stealth operations and our teacher apparently being so scary.”

“Obviously it was a lie. Didn’t take much to figure that out. There’s no way Aizawa would expel anyone on the first day.” Everyone that hadn’t trickled back to the locker rooms turned to Midoriya as he gave a mirthless laugh.

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that. Last year, he expelled his entire class in the first week. There is a reason there is no class 2-A. Besides that, there are only a handful of students left in class 3-A. He wants to see that everyone has the potential and drive to succeed. That’s what our little game was about. Bringing the best out in everyone.”

Izuku had no doubt that would startle a few of their less serious classmates once it got around to them, but it didn’t really matter. They would either survive the course or not. “Ah, I just remembered. Uraraka, Hagakure, could I talk to you two for a moment?” Both girls nodded, or at least as far as Izuku could approximate with Hagakure, and gestured everyone to head on without them.

“What’s up, Midori?” Izuku arched an eyebrow at Hagakure when she bounced up to him. Seemingly sensing his question, Hagakure rapidly explained, the embarrassment evident in her voice. “Oh, ah sorry. I just heard Mina call you that and she said it was the least you could do since you marked us and all…”

Izuku chuckled and waved her off. “Don’t worry about it, Hagakure. I’m used to being called by my first name, so call me whatever you want. It won’t bother me. Now, I wanted to talk to you two for separate reasons. I’ll start with you, so you can get going. My partner and I have been working on technology that is very similar to your quirk, and while we’re able to get it working for a stationary target, we’re having issues with a moving version. Your quirk may just hold the key to us solving that issue. As such, I’d like to ask for your help. Of course, you’d be compensated for your time.”

Hagakure was silent for a long moment. Long enough that Uraraka got a little concerned before a soft whisper came out of the girl. “Can you get rid of it?” Uraraka barely caught it, but Midoriya had certainly heard her if his hiss of a breath was any indication.

“Can I what?!” Hagakure started waving her arms around wildly in panicked motions, having realized the implications of her phrasing.

“No no no no. I don’t want to get rid of my quirk. I mean, like, if you can make something to replicate my quirk, couldn't you make something t-to” Both Uraraka and Izuku were looking at her with concern now, and that almost made it harder for Toru to get it out. “Could you make something to make me visible again! I-I haven’t been able to see myself since I turned four and I just want to-”

The girl choked on her words now, and she could feel the warmth of tears on her face, even if the others couldn’t see them. Uraraka pulled the shorter girl into a hug, and Izuku couldn’t help but feel pity for the poor girl. Both of the girls jumped when a new voice spoke from their side. “Yeah. Yeah, I believe we can do that for you. Right, Izu?”

The girls whipped around to find another girl wearing the same black uniform as Midoriya. Her hair was tied back, much like Midoriya’s, but instead of the green, it was bubblegum pink. “Yeah. We can, Mei. Shouldn’t be too hard. We’ll talk about this tomorrow, though. Go ahead back to the dorms.” Shakily, Hagakure bowed before heading back to the locker rooms.

Both of the young CEOs then turned to Uraraka, who was smiling nervously. “I, ah, I’m guessing that you also want my help with some kind of project?” The nervous smile turned to one of shock quickly when Hatsume spoke up first.

“Nah, why are you using your quirk so wrong?” Izuku could do nothing but facepalm.

…

It took a few moments for Momo to orientate herself in the locker room. It was their first time using them, and the girl she was looking for had slipped off into one of the corners with Himiko as soon as they’d grabbed their clothes. It took her a few more moments to walk over and call out to Jiro.

Both girls turned to look at Momo, and although Jiro seemed wary, Himiko tensed rather rapidly. Momo looked at both girls and had to resist the urge to hiss when she saw dozens of white lines and welts trailing down Himiko’s otherwise blemishless skin. Are those whip scars!? Kyoka stepped in between the two and Momo did her best to stutter out an apology. She didn’t want to be rude and hadn’t meant to stare.

She got halfway through that apology when she found herself heating up. She had been staring again, but instead of old injuries, it was Jiro’s fit and toned body. Suffice it to say, she was sufficiently mortified of her behavior when Kyoka’s now concerned face became the focus of her vision.

“I just wanted to ask, ah, you seemed to not be affected by the shockwave earlier. How is that? Oh, and did you catch what Midoriya was saying before he threw the ball?”

Kyoka blinked before chuckling. “Oh, that. Izuku and Mei made me these for my birthday a few years back.” Kyoka brushed her hair back, revealing the small silver disks she always wore. “They filter and dampen sounds above a certain threshold so I don’t suffer from my heightened hearing. As for what he said,” she couldn’t help but smile now as laughter bubbled up in her throat, “he said Hawaii.”

…

It wasn’t long after Aizawa finished his paperwork that he found himself sitting in the president's office, trying not to scowl. “How is the investigation into Midoriya’s past going? Anything new?”

Calmly, Nedzu placed his tea back into its saucer before shaking his head. “Nothing new. Or that is to say, nothing at all. I take it that the glowering you’re doing means that you didn’t get anything out of Midoriya?”

Aizawa let the frown come now because, evidently, he wasn’t doing too well at hiding it. “Oh no, I got something out of him. He threw the ball really far.” Nedzu just raised his eyebrows at Aizawa, prompting him to elaborate on what he meant by really far. Aizawa, in response, simply put his device down with the distance on the screen.

“Oh. Oh, dear.” Nedzu couldn’t take his eyes off the blinking number, because that was outside of his calculations. Well outside, in fact. On-screen blinked a red number that should have been impossible for someone that was quirkless. Hell, with a few exceptions, such as young Uraraka, it should have been impossible for someone with a quirk. On-screen blinked 6,625,669 meters.

Chapter 25: Chapter #24.5 | 2020 Halloween Special

Chapter Text

Hanzai-sha Goro had prepared for any number of things that could go wrong. He had to, drug dealing wasn’t a safe profession by any means. Someone could threaten him for a fix, someone could decide to use the trigger that he sold them and try to take the rest of his stock by force. Hell, a sale could even turn out to be a setup.

That’s why when he returned to the gang's warehouse, he immediately noticed that the guard, who should have been on duty, was missing. It’s why Goro noticed that the door was ajar, and right then and there he should have walked away. His instincts screamed at him to run, to get away.

The door screeched, the sound of disjointed metal on metal, as he pushed it open, and his breath hitched as he looked down the hall. The guard laid against the wall, glassy eyes staring into him, questioning him. He wanted to gag as he took in the scene. Blood and grey matter dripped down the wall behind him and the scent of iron clung to the entryway. He’d been ambushed, clearly, didn’t even fight back when the assailant had put a bullet through his forehead.

The lights flickered and the air hung heavy with the oppression of death. Goro stepped carefully now down the hallway. What once was neat and organized was chaotic and lawless, and much like the state of the building, he found his second fellow in worse shape than the guard had been. His elbow was snapped cleanly through his forearm and the wound still leaked crimson from the severed artery. The hole in the back of his head told him that it was an execution. Looking around, Goro spotted his associate's blade kicked just inside a side passage, the weapon bent uselessly now into little more than scrap metal.

His instincts screamed louder and louder as he made his way into the main storage of the warehouse. He knew he should turn around, should run away, should slip into the night and never come back. But some sick curiosity tugged him forward. Forward, through the escalating carnage of his peers. Forward, through the bodies and blood, past the men who’d had their legs broken as they tried to crawl away.

At some point, whoever, or hell, whatever, had done this had stopped using their weapon. The clean bullet holes were replaced by long gouges and deep lacerations. It wasn’t the work of man any longer but that of a beast. Then Guro stepped into the main storage and the entire world shifted as he wretched and vomited his lunch onto the concrete, slick with the arterial blood of the rest of the gang.

Where the room would normally be lit by the bright overhead fluorescent lights, now the area was lit only by the flaming barrels they kept for when the power went out. The fire cast the room into deep, broad shadows, providing a stark contrast to the pieces of men strewn around. Some men laid, terror still in their eyes, with their throats torn from their bodies, their fingers curled around in desperation, trying in vain to stem the flow of their lives. Others had been luckier in that they had simply been bashed into the ground until their faces were unrecognizable. Lucky only because they would have been unconscious for their untimely demise.

But the thing that struck Guro the moment he had walked into the room, the thing that had first caught his attention and the very act that made even his hardened stomach lose its contents, was the body of their gang leader. The others had it easy. The others had gotten away clean. Hanging from the rafters was their leader, strung up by his own intestines, eyes bulging out of his head.

Then the purr echoed around the room. “Oh, so the fifth decided to come back home to play? Don’t worry about your friends. You’ll be joining them soon.” There, sitting on the rafters, just above his boss' body, sat a man barely older than a boy. Yet, in the dark, the man’s eyes glowed like viridian fire and the shadowed firelight glinted off of teeth too sharp to be human.

The man dropped to the ground with that horrifying smile on his face, while too black dress shoes made a disgusting sucking sound as he stepped forward in the pools of blood. A little off six feet tall, this demon strowed towards Guro, his smile perfectly calm and razor-sharp, wearing an outfit that should have reminded him of an old fashioned detective, with its high-rise pants, trench coat, and fedora. Now the outfit only made him see the devil himself.

Guro did the only sensible thing a man would do at this point. He pulled in a deep breath, screamed, and ran. The hallway was the same as it was before. Logically, he knew that. Yet the walls seemed, impossibly, to close in on him, to creep closer with every twist and turn of the warehouse halls. Logically, Guro knew that the rest of the gang was dead and that he was alone. He couldn’t help but cry out for help, anyway, to scream his throat raw as he tore back towards the door. Couldn’t help but see the grinning faces of corpses now where they had been pained and scared before.

Laughter trickled down the hallway toward him as the footsteps continued at an unconcerned, leisurely pace. Screeching filled the air as claws were dragged across metal support beams and the man whistled a happy, jaunty tune.

The doorway was there in front of him. Yet, curiously, it wasn’t empty. A man stood there now, staring him down impassively, as if none of his screaming meant a thing to him. I need help. Surely this guy’ll save me from the lunatic butcher behind- The last thing Guro saw was a flash of green and the glint of metal as his head rolled to a stop at the feet of the man at the door.

…

Dabi tsked as the drug dealer's head rolled towards him before stopping it with the sole of his combat boot. “Jesus Midoriya, what the hell did you do in there? I can smell the blood from all the way out here.”

“I don’t have any pity for drug peddlers that use their clients' debt as an excuse for child trafficking. Certainly not when they decide to move across the country from Kagoshima to set up three blocks away from an elementary school.” Izuku’s eyes hardened before he sighed and rubbed his face, smearing his bloody hands across his eyes.

“I will admit that I lost my temper a little bit when I found the cage of kids, though. Sorry for the extra work. Make sure they get out of the holding area without seeing the bodies, please. They don’t need that added to this experience for them.”

Dabi’s face hardened when he heard about the kids, and though he didn’t look forward to what his boss' temper had wrought, he wasn’t quite sure he cared at the moment. “That’s alright. Go ahead and get back to the dorms. You have the costume party, right? I’m sure they’ll miss you if you're out any longer.” Izuku gave Dabi a weary smile before stepping past him into the night air, while Dabi stepped into a nightmare.

…

The first one to greet Izuku at the door of the dorms was, unsurprisingly, a rather distraught looking Yaoyorozu. “There you are, Izuku! You’re almost late! I was worried you’d somehow gotten yourself lost. You said you were going out for a short walk, not for a-” Momo cut herself off when she caught sight of the blood staining the edges of his coat, both at the wrists and the bottom, as well as the hemming of his pants. “W-What happened?!”

He’d cleaned up, of course. It wouldn’t do to arrive at a class party looking as if he’d just come from a massacre, but a crime scene fit the look well. Izuku took in her appearance as he waved her concern away. Her black, silk co*cktail dress clung to her curves, while her high heels put her taller than Midoriya for once. Elbow-length black gloves reached for him, while the concern in her eyes drew a stark contrast to the curled, billowing jet black hair occluding half of her face and the crimson lipstick that sat like blood on her lips.

“The blood makes the costume better. Makes me look fresh from a crime scene.” Izuku smiled now, letting some of his madness leak through into his eyes and smile. “Now come on, dame. We have a soiree to attend.” Izuku linked his arm with Momo, and she let the concern slip away as she purred. May as well play her part.

“Yes, darling. Let's do just that.”
…

There are many things that go bump in the night, just as there are three certainties in life. Death, taxes, and the stupidity of one’s casual acquaintances. Izuku and Momo walked back into the dorms to find Mina neck-deep in a bucket of ice water and apples. The shriek they’d heard upon entering the dorms came from their classmates not having informed the pinkette that the fog billowing out of the apple cauldron was actually because of the dry ice they’d placed in the bottom of it.

It was almost time for the festivities to begin, and the last of the guests would be arriving soon. Izuku couldn’t help but smile as he observed the room. Everyone had gotten into the spirit of the season, from Mina in her kitty cat outfit, all the way to the usually stoic Shinso with his imitation Eraserhead goggles on his forehead and capture weapon settled haphazardly on his shoulders. Ojiro was wrapped in just enough bandages to show hints of the skeleton suit he had on underneath. Tenya had taken the time to meticulously paint himself into Frankenstein's monster and was doing his best to converse with the blushing Shoto.

It made sense, really. It was the first real Halloween he’d been able to take part in after getting away from his family, and he still wasn’t used to the attention. Attention that he was getting a lot of because of his meticulously put together noble vampire costume.

The sound of Kyoka calling his name brought his attention above himself just in time to catch her as she hopped off the broom Ochako had been flying them around on. Kyoka was doing her best to play the sly demon succubus with Himiko, while Ochako had dressed in the purples and blacks of a witch.

Laughing, Izuku was going to ask what on earth she thought she was doing when he caught sight of Mei behind her. The blood drained from his face when he saw what she was wearing. Her costume was by far the scariest there. It was the only one that made Izuku feel very real fear. She had modeled it after her damned Roomba's.

Eijiro called out from the front of the room that their special guests had arrived, and some students lined up behind the couches, others behind the pumpkin carving tables. Kaminari and Sero had finally been caught by Mina, only to get dunked into the ice water themselves. The three stood by the bucket of freezing water, giggling their heads off. Pony and Setsuna turned from where they were conversing at the co*cktail bar, clearly waiting for Midoriya to make his way over and take his position behind it. Asui climbed upside down into a visible area next to the dorm's stairs in her tracht dress, while Fumikage and Toru conversed at the foot of the stairs.

The chime of a clock, the toll of a bell, and two little girls stepped through the front door with Mirio and the rest of the Moonlit Industries group behind them. One girl was taller than the other, braver than the other. Gold eyes and blonde hair like her elder sister, she stepped through wearing a costume similar to Todoroki, though her fangs were all-natural when she smiled at the waiting group of students.

The other girl was still shy, still scared from her ordeal. Younger than Hiromi by only a year, the girl had red eyes with sleek, silver hair trailing across the deep black and silver plates that were a replication of Midoriya’s hero costume. Izuku could see the curiosity in her eyes as she took in the room, and when her eyes finally landed on Izuku, her smile could have melted the white snow her hair reminded him of. As one, the students of 1-A gave a mighty cheer. “HAPPY HALLOWEEN!”

Chapter 26: Chapter #25 | Alarming Failure

Chapter Text

“I, I’m wh-what?” Ochako couldn’t help but stutter out a half response. There were a number of things that could have come from the pair, especially after Izuku’s offer to Hagakure, but she hadn’t expected to be insulted within the first sentence.

Izuku sighed, because, of course, the first thing out of Hatsume’s mouth had been utterly blunt to the point of degrading. Taking his left hand off his face and carefully placing his right arm behind him, Izuku gestured to hold back the string of retorts that were brewing in Uraraka’s eyes. “What she meant is that we noticed some discrepancies in your quirk usage versus how you described it to us. If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly does your quirk do? In your doctor’s words, please, if you can remember all the way back to your examination when your quirk manifested.”

Uraraka tilted her head and scrunched up her eyebrows, arms crossing in front of her. “Uhm, well. I can’t really remember the examination. That was years ago, you know? But I do remember I didn’t spend a whole lot of time there. There were a whole lot of people, and I remember it because I remember thinking that it felt like we got rushed through. I didn’t really think much of it at the time. I was too excited to try out my quirk, after all. I think they said something about me altering the gravity of what I touch with my finger pads, thus making them weightless.”

Uraraka held her hands up, making grabby motions towards the two as Izuku grumbled and rubbed his left temple. “Of course they did. My own quirk specialist determined my quirklessness with an x-ray, rather than a blood test, but I had hoped they all weren’t that inept. Considering how bad the HPSC is, I shouldn’t be surprised. But f*ck, this is on another level entirely.”

Uraraka couldn’t help but be startled by the sudden hostility. “What does the Hero Commission have to do with this?”

“Besides the fact that they're a bunch of corrupt, quirkist assholes?!” Mei snarled the words out before Izuku shot her a look and a low warning with her name.

“Please forgive her. We’ve had some, well, negative experiences in the past with the Hero Commission. It isn’t anything you need to worry about. But to answer your question, most people assume that quirk specialists are employed through the government. Which, I suppose, is true to some extent. But most of them are employed through the HPSC, rather than running their own practices. It's one of the ways that they track quirks, but again, besides the point.”

Izuku took several steps to the side and pulled what appeared to be a small metal cube from the rolling cart Mei had brought with her, while Mei herself opened her laptop at the end and began to boot the software she’d need. He continued as he rolled the cube around in his hands, as if it were a child's plaything.

“Since Mei has already been blunt, I’ll go ahead and continue that trend. What that doctor told you is likely either complete bullsh*t or not even remotely the full story. Gravity is one of the four fundamental forces in the universe. The weakest of the four forces, but a fundamental force all the same. If a body has mass, then it is going to have gravity. The force attraction between two bodies is directly proportional to the product of the masses, of course, and-”

“Midoriya, you’re going to lose her if you keep babbling science at her.” Mei couldn’t help but interject, worrying that Uraraka would be zoning out by now, but the girl seemed rather attentive.

“Is inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them, right?” Both of the CEOs quirked their eyebrows at her, and she shrugged. “I ended up studying the subject a bit, trying to improve my quirk, and it always confused me how I could just nullify gravity, but since I didn’t really have the money to get any tests done…”

“Right. Well, it’s your lucky day then.” Izuku tossed the steel cube to Uraraka, who caught it, nearly dropping it from the sudden weight. “Use your quirk on that. Are we ready to go, Mei?” Mei nodded, and Izuku gestured to go ahead.

Shrugging, Uraraka used her quirk on the cube and let it float in front of her. She waited nervously for a few seconds. Then a few seconds more. She had been getting steadily more nervous as they’d been talking. If they were right, then she had been completely wrong about her quirk and that, well, that wasn’t a pleasant feeling in her gut.

That feeling only made itself further apparent when Mei’s eyebrows shot up and she snorted. She gestured for Izuku to take a look at the screen, and after a moment of concentrated reading, he shook his head and grabbed what looked like several small pads and a plate from the cart. He planted the plate on the ground and walked up to her, signaling her to deactivate her quirk, and began placing the sensors on her. “Once more while standing on the pressure plate, please.”

It took all of ten seconds following the reactivation of her quirk for Midoriya to start cursing again, before he began leading her through a series of tests and exercises from moving the cube around in the air to simply letting it float along. One moment she’d be working with one cube, then juggling another three or four. Each step of the way, Midoriya seemed to become more agitated and Hatsume more straight-faced.
“Wow, the doctor wasn’t just wrong. He was a f*cking idiot.” Uraraka was still attempting to fully reconcile the extremely timid Iwasaki Hiroki with Midoriya, so this reaction was jarring. “You aren’t negating gravity at all. You are doing something equally stupid that I have no explanation for right now, but it isn’t gravity-related.”

“Uhm, what exactly am I doing then?” Uraraka deactivated her quirk for what was hopefully the final time, while Mei approached her to collect the equipment. Mei was staring at her, completely deadpan, and while Uraraka didn’t know it, Hatsume was doing her best to not expose the girl in front of her to another rant about the incompetence of the current system.

“What you are doing is in two parts. First off, you are directly affecting the momentum of an item. I tap the cube to the right, and it starts going right. I then tap the cube left, and it starts going left without anything more than a tap, regardless of how fast it was going, its mass, anything at all. The second thing you’re doing is moving mass around while your quirk is active.”

“W-wait, if that was the case, how are things floating?”

“Because your quirk is evidently doing the heavy lifting right now. If I had to guess, and this would need more testing to be sure of, your mental image is it floating. Your quirk is picking up on that and reflecting it externally. To be exact, let's take the first test as an example. The cube was ‘floating’ there, correct? That isn’t exactly true. There was a constant 9.807 m/s² pressure on it from below it. Your quirk was quite literally matching gravity vertically in order to make the cube float there.”

Midoriya had taken to pacing now in his frustration while gesturing with his left hand as Hatsume carefully placed equipment onto her cart. “The second part of this is that you perceive things that float as lighter, which is perfectly reasonable, but it causes you to miss the second part. When you activated your quirk, a large amount of the mass from the steel cube moved from the cube into you. It’s not telekinesis, though it is similar, but you theoretically don’t have to worry about an object’s inertia. You are also able to theoretically shift mass around at will, and that just shouldn’t be possible. Objects that have large amounts of mass and can be moved with little force shouldn’t exist. If you combine those two abilities, it means that you have-”

“Izuku!” Midoriya had steadily been getting faster in both his pacing and muttering when Hatsume called his name, snapping him out of his spiral. “C’mon, you’re going to confuse her if you don’t tell her clearly.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” Izuku turned back to Uraraka, who had just been watching what looked like a nosedive into insanity with a wary expression. “Sorry about that, but the implications of this are startling, to say the least. You appear to have the ability to manipulate both mass and momentum while disregarding inertia, and I have absolutely no idea how that is possible.”

…

“Are none of us going to bring up how damn unsettling Midoriya is? Or how absolutely f*cked up it is that he simulated killing us for god’s sake?!”

The exhausted class had barely trickled back into their dorms and begun heading their separate ways when Sero decided to speak up. Though it surprised no one when Todoroki continued towards his room or Bakugo did the same after telling them to f*ck themselves, a large quantity of the class were paying attention to Sero with concerned expressions.

“Right? Even if Aizawa Sensei asked him to do it, wasn’t that too much?” Kaminari couldn’t help but rub his neck as he muttered agreements with Sero. Ashido, on the other hand, bounced in place besides Hagakure, feeling mildly indignant.

“That’s hardly fair to him, isn’t it? We’d do the same thing if our professor asked us to, and Iwa- Midoriya isn’t even here to defend himself.”

“He even offered to help me, despite not having to..” Toru’s response was softer, but had an impact all the same.

“But how are we supposed to trust him now? He’s already deceived us once. What if this is just another trick? What else does he plan on doing to us?!” Kaminari jumped at Midoriya’s offer to help Hagakure, and even Iida seemed like he was nodding his head along.

“I don’t want to say that U.A. made a mistake, but how are we supposed to trust Aizawa Sensei and Midoriya if they open the semester by lying to us?” Iida’s robotic chopping was evidently the last straw for Toga, because she bared her teeth and started growling at the three who were speaking against Midoriya.

“I think that it’s kind of manly! Look at how easily he was able to do it. He’ll be our classmate, after all. Think about how much we can learn from him!” Kirishima was doing his best to defuse the situation with his sharp smile and happy-go-lucky attitude, but was being met with limited success.

“That’s enough.” Jiro sighed. She’d had enough of this, and as she snapped out an order for silence, everyone turned to her, while Toga grumbled and stepped away from Sero, who she appeared to be ready to strangle with his own tape. “First off, Himiko has a point. Izuku isn’t here to defend himself, so do try to have a little bit of decorum. It is the first day of class, and except for a handful of us, none of you have had any actual interactions with Izuku to base these accusations off of. That being said, behave yourself, Himi. Izuku wouldn’t approve of you throttling Sero. If you have questions or accusations to make, point them at him. I’m sure he’ll be happy to deal with them.”

“Of course Midoriya’s guard dogs would defend him. They probably knew it was him the entire time.” Sero muttered it just loudly enough that Toga, without Jiro’s enhanced hearing, could hear him. The only thing that kept Toga off of him was Jiro wrapping her earjacks around Toga’s arm while her hand was placed on her shoulder.

“C’mon man, that was a little far, don’t you think?” Kaminari took a step away from Sero with that comment, if only to distance himself from Toga in case she got loose. She looks piiiissssed.

“What? You think nobody noticed how he talked to you back at the training field? Or that you only had a couple nonlethal marks on you? You two clearly know him.”

“You’re right, Sero. We did know the entire time, because he trained us to notice these things. We also weren’t the only two to pass, as Todoroki did, as well, but if that is the only thing that you took away from this, then you truly did fail.” Jiro had remained rather placidly calm throughout all of this, or had at least done her best to appear as such, but her tone chilled when she finished her sentence.

“It’s like Aizawa Sensei said. This is our baseline. What Izuku did was to show you where your baseline was. Breakfast could have had any number of things in it. Botulinum, ricin, tetrodotoxin, cyanide, strychnine. He cheated through his games with you, and none of you noticed. He cut everyone into simulated ribbons in a hope that you would learn an important lesson early. This is not a safe field of work. Every day, we could get targeted. Every day, we could get injured or killed.” Jiro couldn’t help but touch the scar trailing down the right side of her lips as she thought about how dangerous it could be, even with training. “We have to be vigilant, or else everything we’ve worked for could come crashing down.”

“You didn’t answer the question, though, kero. How are we supposed to trust him?”

Jiro couldn’t help a sad, rueful smile now, because she knew that he’d have to earn that. “I’m not asking you to trust him. I’m asking you to tolerate him until you can.”

...

It wasn’t long before Uraraka was walking back to the changing room, both bewildered and feeling a bit of trepidation. Midoriya and Hatsume could understand that well as they watched her walk away. Her quirk wasn’t what she thought it was at all, and that would take a bit to adapt to.

The moment Uraraka had stepped out of both visual and audible range, Hatsume turned towards Izuku. “So, you’re going through with your plan after all?”

Izuku frowned but nodded. “We’re going to need allies that think as we do. Vigilantes and favors are only going to do so much.”

“You could have told her about my experience with quirk specialists, then, or about the trouble the HPSC has given us.” Hatsume had her own opinions regarding Izuku’s plan, but in the end, he was her partner. If this is how he wanted to do things, then she would stand by the decision. She didn’t particularly have any kind of stake in hero students, anyway.

Izuku just shook his head. “My reveal, my quirk tests and Aizawa’s gambit in general, her own quirk revelations. Any more and she wouldn’t be able to process it. I’ll drip feed her information later, once she’s acclimatized a bit better.”

Hatsume narrowed her eyes, but with this kind of thing, he knew best. She was more than happy to drop it, because he’d also brought up another point. Stepping quickly and closing the distance between them, she smacked her hand against his right arm, which he’d had tucked behind his back the entire time.

The rapid dilation of his eyes and the scream he trapped in his throat told her everything she needed. “You overdid it again. How bad?”

Midoriya hissed curses between his teeth as he glared at her. “Yes, obviously I overdid it. Thank you, captain obvious. Did you have to smack my arm?”

“How. Bad.”

“Bakugo pissed me off, and I threw the damn ball to Hawaii.”

“I didn’t ask what you did, I asked how badly you hurt yourself.”

Tsk. “Fine. Shredded every muscle and practically atomized the bones. I’m only moving it through the augments, and even that is fairly limited. It also hurts like all hell, so don’t f*cking hit it.”

Hatsume closed her eyes, took a deep breath, released it, and hit his arm again. “You dumbass. How many times do I have to tell you to stop overdoing it? Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. You might be barely human, and you might also have more mechanical augmentation than is healthy, but that doesn’t mean your body can keep up with it. Phoenix, how long is it going to take to fix?”

Izuku’s natural healing, in conjunction with the nanobots in his bloodstream, should have his body repaired early tomorrow morning, though it will take considerable materials to do so. He should take at least one round of standard GDS-5 before he sleeps, lest he experience symptoms of deficiencies.

Izuku grunted out a thank you before turning to Hatsume. “Shall we go get the supplement and prepare the testing equipment for Uraraka’s quirk, or shall we stand here and smack my arm some more.”

“Fine. FINE.” Hatsume threw her hands in the air in a sign of defeat and exasperation. “One of these days, you’re going to learn your lesson, but evidently that isn’t today.” Izuku smiled. She knew him all too well.

…

It had taken longer than Midoriya would have liked to get Nedzu’s permission to use one of the gyms for testing. Oh, not because the damned chimera didn’t want him using the facility to aid his classmates, quite the opposite. The confounded rat-wolf hybrid had wanted to know all about this new development in his classmate's quirk.

By the time Izuku entered through the front doors of the dorms, he was exhausted and his arm ached, despite the painkillers Hatsume had insisted on with the general deficiency supplement. He’d fought her on that initially, but right about now, as he was wearing down, he was really damn thankful for them.

Dealing with Nedzu was always taxing. Where most groups had a distinctive goal and objectives to go with, the president wasn’t like that. He was a web of plans, contingency plans, and contingency plans to the contingency plans. Navigating conversations with him was a war of wits and ideologies, and although they fought with different weapons, it was probably the reason the two had a begrudging admiration for one another, bordering on something akin to friendship.

There were only a few of his classmates in the common area now. The sun was going down, and most of the students had trickled off to bed. Not that he could blame them. Aizawa had pushed them to their limits, and he’d be surprised if they weren’t exhausted.

Izuku stood behind the couch for a minute, just taking in the relaxed nature of his classmates. It was a breath of fresh air after his day. Shinso was in the corner, nursing a cup of coffee, while Yaoyorozu studied something across from him. What she was studying was beyond him, as classes hadn’t even begun. But he of all people wasn’t going to criticize her for learning something new.

He chuckled at Mina, once again taking Kaminari’s money when he landed on the boardwalk space. She was disturbingly good at games that have an element of luck to them. All heads whipped around and found him standing in the room, their expressions ranging from shock to displeasure, but the most concerning was the anger and fear coming from Sero’s glare. To my recollection, I haven’t done anything to him. Phoenix, did something happen while I was out?

There was a fight amongst a part of the class regarding whether you could be trusted, considering your rather violent introduction.

I see. Any threat?

No, I don’t believe the hostile elements will make any move against you or yours at this time.

Roger, keep me apprised. I’ll let them sort it out themselves unless something comes up.

Mina smirked when she realized Midoriya was there. Iwasaki had been so fun to tease, so it begged the question if that had been an act, or if he was actually so easily flustered. Yaomomo has his attention. I wonder if I could…

Yaoyorozu had been the first to greet Izuku, and she and Shinso had pulled his attention to their conversation after realizing he was there. Carefully and slowly, like a cat creeping up on its prey, Ashido slinked her way across the common area before pouncing onto Iwa- Midoriya’s back.

“Hey there, Midori. It’s good to see you’re back.” Midoriya had flinched slightly when she landed across his shoulders, but there was none of the immediate freaking out like she had seen the previous day. Well, I guess he is a different person now, kind of literally. He wouldn’t act the same.

“Hello, Ashido. As I was telling these two, I’m about to head to bed, so if you're wanting me to join in your gaming, I’ll have to decline.”

“Nah, figured you’d be tired after that showing, though you’re always welcome to take me with you.” Mina leaned into Midoriya’s ear and lowered her tone as she tried to provoke a response from the green boy.

Mina wasn’t ready, however, when his body rumbled lowly from barely contained laughter. Nor was she mentally prepared when he set her down, leaned into her ear, and purred his next words. “Oh, darling. My door’s always open.” Ashido couldn’t help the violet flush that bloomed across her skin, nor could she help hiding her face in her hands as he laughed while walking up the stairs. No, no he wasn’t the same person at all.

Chapter 27: Chapter #26 | A Chilling Hunt

Chapter Text

Midoriya stood now in front of his mirror, carefully observing his appearance as it shifted and changed in the reflection. One moment, he was looking at Iwasaki Hiroki, and the next, he was looking at himself. For the briefest of moments, he could see the shy, bright-eyed boy he once was, could see a person that had been beaten down by the world and was dreading his next day because it would only bring more people doing their best to crush his dreams.

Izuku shook his head to clear his thoughts. It didn’t matter any longer. He wasn’t the same foolish young boy he’d been, and no matter what he did now, he couldn’t get rid of what he knew, what he’d seen. Or for that matter, liberate himself from the blood on his hands. His regular appearance settled into place as Izuku studied his features. He supposed he’d once have been considered plain, but with his hair pulled back and the faint glow in his eyes casting a shadow around his eyes, he couldn’t exactly be called that any longer. His fingers deftly knitted his tie into place around his neck, and he was eternally thankful for Mei’s help when he was learning to tie it in the first place. He hadn’t had to wear one in a very long time, and it showed.

Izuku punched his code into the weapons cabinet that Snipe had installed prior to his arrival. Evidently, Nedzu had expected him to bring more than just his sidearms with him. The cabinet had space for a couple long arms on top of his sidearms and enough ammunition that he could probably start the fourth world war. Not that he would, but it was certainly a thought. He had finished loading the live ammunition into his shoulder holster and was slotting rubber bullets into another magazine. This would be going into the drop holster on his right thigh. He couldn’t just kill everyone, after all. As much sway as he had with the police force, he doubted he’d be able to gloss over killing someone in broad daylight.

A knock resounded through his room, strong and steady. He only had to offhandedly call out that it was open before Iida walked into the room, stiff and formal. “Good Morning, Midoriya! It Is Good To See You Are Already Up And About! I Hope You Slept Well! We Must Get Ready For Classes, It Is Our First Day After All!” Izuku looked up, eyebrows furrowing, while loading the magazine into his sidearm, racking a round, and sliding the sidearm into its holster.

“I slept fine, thank you. Is there a particular reason that you are acting, somehow, stiffer than usual, Iida?” Iida looked at Midoriya now, the first time he’d really stopped and examined the man since his transformation. He was tall, taller than even Tenya, and he came from a family of fairly tall people. Well, tall for the Japanese. He wore his uniform with few imperfections and stood with a ramrod straight confidence that contradicted the stuttering, shy boy from before. The major difference, though, was in his eyes. Of course, the dark bags under his eyes belied his own comments, but where there had once been a boyish innocence, there was now a sad weariness. A weight that spoke of actions passed and events untold.

“Uh, not to be a ‘stickler for the rules,’ but are you supposed to have those?” Izuku looked down at his two sidearms. His shoulder holster would be covered by his uniform jacket, but in the meantime, both sidearms were in plain view for Iida.

I suppose that would be mildly disconcerting for anyone that isn’t used to guns. At least he seems to be learning to question first. “Don’t worry about it, Iida. I have permission from both the president and from Snipe to carry on campus. I also have all of the relevant licensing and training.” His interlocutor relaxed slightly, though still tense.

“Then I suppose I don’t have anything to say regarding the… firearms. I need to wake the others. I'll see you in class!” The man spun on his heel and stalked out of the room, leaving Izuku chuckling.

…

“Welcome back. It’s good to see that you all aren’t completely hopeless.” Aizawa had stepped into the classroom to find that, shockingly, all of his students were already in their seats. Not only that, but they had noticed him and quieted down in only six seconds, compared to the first day’s eleven. They had cut that in half, and whether it had been from a drive to do better or from the fear of not knowing their surroundings that Midoriya had instilled in them, Aizawa wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially not when that horse had done months of work in one day.

“As you all have probably gathered already, the hero course curriculum here isn’t quite the normal curriculum for a college, nor is it average for a hero course. We only have a few short years to make you all into respectable heroes, and as such, we won’t be wasting time like the other courses. The mornings will be your academic classes. During the afternoons, you’ll be drilled in your hero courses. This begins right now, and as I don’t have any announcements to make, we’ll get started right away. Midoriya, you're dismissed.”

The class didn’t know how to respond to that last line. Some mumbled amongst themselves, others outwardly cried out. It was when Sero called out to Aizawa, Izuku almost to the door, that they both knew this would need to be addressed. “The reason Aizawa is dismissing me is that I’m an attache from the president's personal course. I’ll be back in the afternoon for hero training with all of you, but until then, I have a different course load and different responsibilities.”

Most of the class willingly accepted that explanation, Yaoyorozu especially. There wasn’t any point in Midoriya relearning everything, and she highly doubted that someone with multiple degrees would need lower-level courses. I’ll have to look into that myself.

This, of course, didn’t stop the usual dissidents from grumbling under their breath. It didn’t stop Aizawa from glaring at them and telling everyone to shut up. And it certainly didn’t stop one explosive blond from glaring suspiciously at Midoriya as he left.

…

Nedzu was a smart creature, even without his quirk. When you added High Specs onto his natural intelligence, to most people, his intelligence came off as preternatural, precognitive even. But Midoriya knew the truth of it, just as Nedzu did. He could make connections, could make astounding leaps in logic and piece together brilliant plans that would make others think he was crazy. But he couldn’t do any of that without information.

And thus Midoriya found himself sitting in front of a pile of weaponry with Snipe. One might expect Izuku to have been tasked with using that weaponry, showing what he could do thus giving them the information he needed. This wasn’t occurring at all. Instead, he, alongside Snipe, was putting the finishing touches on the maintenance of the weapons in preparation for the first day of classes. As it turned out, while the first years had their academics in the morning and heroics in the afternoon, it was the opposite for the second and third years. This was done so that the first years could learn to control their abilities and didn’t have to worry about the condition of the training facilities.

The door clicked open, but when he looked up, it hadn’t been the door from the hallway, even though the second and third years should have been arriving at any moment. The door that had opened was the one leading to the small simulation course. Even more surprising was that it was his partner who stepped out.

“Mei? What are you doing in the simulation course?” Izuku saw the look on her face when she turned to him and blanched, because that look always spelled out trouble.

“Izuku! The president okayed me upgrading the simulation course for our resident cowboy. He said that anything that can be done to help students learn should be done. Of course they just want to use my babies, but I can’t complain because this means that they get tested!” The technician's eyes had shifted away from her relatively calm, analytical self into her inventor mode. It was times like this that Izuku had learned there was only one thing he could do. Go along with the flow if he didn’t want to be dragged down into the depths with her.

“Oh? And uh, what did you change, Mei?” Izuku couldn’t help but feel the nervous sweat drip down his spine. His partner was absolutely wonderful, but when she got like this and was left to her own devices, she tended to make things that no normal human being could deal with. The image of her Roomba army flashed into his mind, and as quickly as it came, he pushed it down. That was one memory he would not be reliving if he had any say in the matter.

“Oh, not much. The structures and stuff didn’t need any changes. The course itself is pretty good. I just added the same holotargets that we have back home.” The blood drained out of Izuku’s face fully now, because the holotargets she spoke of were A.I. driven simulations that he used to train.

“Please. Please, tell me that you implemented the safety features.”

“Of course I did! These are students, not you.” Mei looked incredulously at Izuku, as if she couldn’t believe he would say something like that. “There is nothing unsafe at all about these precious babies, even if I did make some changes to the higher difficulties!”

“Ah, not to interrupt your little lovers’ spat here, but my students are set to be arrivin’ here real soon. Is there anythin’ about the course I should be worried about now?” Snipe spoke up now as he put down the tools he was using. Hatsume blushed a little but scowled at the professor.

“No, there isn’t. It's perfectly safe, and Izu will be more than happy to teach you the system. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the president promised to teach me how to make bombs out of sink cleaners!” Mei wasted no time in bolting from the room and leaving two very pale men in her wake.

…

Izuku continued his work, even as the class trickled in and Snipe began his explanation of the course to the second years, as well as welcoming back several third years. Very few students would even attempt to get firearms training while at U.A., and even fewer would be able to pass the lethal armaments examination at the end of their third year. The concept of the test, of course, is a good one, but in practice, it's kind of questionable. Who cares about a gun when the second-place hero is a walking war crime?

“Sensei? Who is the first year, and why is he armed?” Midoriya looked up from his work, setting down the revolver that he’d made for the entrance exam. It was happily getting used as a range weapon.

“That first year is Midoriya Izuku. One of the two students in our president's personal course and my assistant for this course.” The third-year that had asked the question accepted it, as did his fellow third years. Anyone in their president's personal course was likely better than even they were in academics, and if the chimera had decided to place him here as an assistant, then he was more than likely better than them with a firearm, as well.

A second-year student snorted before speaking. “Why the hell would you accept a first year as your assistant? Any of us would have gladly taken the position and been more useful. We don’t need some freshie as our student-teacher. He probably can’t do anything yet.” Snipe frowned under his mask. Kurihara had always been a foul mouth, but he hadn’t taken him for someone to make baseless accusations or assumptions. He was prepared to reprimand his student when he caught Midoriya in his peripheral, holding up a hand to speak.

“Kurihara Kenta, second-year student in class 2-B. If I were you, I would be careful with your assumptions. Assuming makes an ass of you and me. You have no idea what I am and am not capable of, and yet you assume that you are better because you are older. Assumptions will get you or someone else killed if you even get that far.” Oh yes, Midoriya had met people like this before, had trained people like this before. People that only obeyed the strong. Those that saw everyone as below them unless they proved they were better. He’d had to train an entire squad of people like him in officers training, after all.

“What did you ju-”

“Shut up. You’re letting your pride dictate your actions. Snipe, do we have time in the schedule today?”

“I had planned on lettin’ them get out early, but we have time for whatever you’re plannin’.”

Izuku smiled and turned back to the Kurihara. He knew exactly how to deal with people like this, and the most expedient way was only a door away. “I’ll make you a deal, Kurihara. We’ve just installed a new simulation software into the CQC course. I was going to display it for our illustrious cowboy, but we’ll do something a little different. I’ll go through it first to display its capabilities to everyone. You’ll go after me. If you can do better, then we’ll give you the position, and I’ll go work with another class.”

Snipe smiled under his mask as he watched Midoriya load the simulation weapon and prep the settings. How it was explained to him, the guns would fire specialized training ammunition. The ammunition was evidently a collaboration project between Hatsume and Midoriya, a bullet that would feel like the real thing without any of the damage. Almost like an extremely painful paintball. The science of it went over his head, but he hadn’t planned on letting anyone outside of the third year hero course students use it. Too many psychological implications from the ammunition for anyone that wasn’t mentally prepared.

From what he’d seen at the range all those years ago, there wasn’t a chance in hell Midoriya was going to lose. This would also get him some footage for his boss. Snipe decided to catch his students up with the new installations while Midoriya finalized the preparations. “This 'ere facility is the first one of its kind on campus and was constructed at the behest of our good friends over at Moonlit Industries. As you third years likely remember, all we had was our shooting range and the dummy weapons. Now we have this facility an’ two off-campus facilities. This un is a CQC specialized shoothouse. The walls are eleven inches of pea gravel. They’ll stop 7.62x51, and while the plan was originally to use bullet traps and live ammunition, the company again pulled through with the new simulated ammunition and live holotargets.”

The students looked at the live camera footage and saw a household sitting inside of a warehouse, surrounded by various objects, fake trees, and astroturf. “The doors and walls are all interchangeable and moveable inside as needed, so either myself or any of the other faculty can change the layout for the simulation. The other facilities are similar but have different purposes. Breaching simulations, sniper training, squad-based wargames.”

Snipe stopped explaining as Midoriya braced himself against the door leading onto the fake lawn. Signaling to the students to pay attention, Snipe found himself getting excited. He realized only moments into it that this wasn’t like any kind of simulation he’d seen before, and those weren’t the type of holograms he’d been expecting.

…

Izuku took a deep breath in the preparation hallway, in front of the door leading into the live-fire facility. Even if they weren’t real bullets, he still didn’t want to get shot. He’d put the difficulty a step above his training back home and knew for a fact that this was going to be hell. He also knew for a fact that the uppity second year wouldn’t go through with the challenge once he’d seen Midoriya go. Though if he did still accept, Izuku would be more than happy to see him get riddled with the simulation rounds.

Izuku pressed his left hand against the door and braced his rifle against his right shoulder, taking one last deep breath before breaching. Immediately, he was diving down and to the left, slamming his back against one of the fake trees placed inside of the warehouse. Gunfire rained down around him, slamming into the tree and the ground. Three gunmen, one behind the SUV, one by the building's corner, one upper window with a high powered rifle.

Izuku counted in his head and spun around the tree, leveling his sights with the upper window first. Squeezing the trigger, Midoriya didn’t wait to see the holotarget’s head explode into dozens of fractals of light. It was three steps before he was to the SUV, another two before he rounded it and placed three rounds into the holotarget’s chest.

Midoriya ducked down and dipped behind the corner of the SUV when a hail of simulated gunfire slammed into the side of the vehicle. The weapon reports had barely stopped when Izuku spun the corner and placed another two rounds into the final holotarget. While he had been dealing with the prior two, the third had moved from the corner of the building into the fake forest in an attempt to flank him.

Wasting no time, Izuku stormed up the front steps of the building and kicked the front door inward, nearly tearing it off its hinges. Seven rounds gone, thirteen remaining. Izuku took the first room hard and fast before the simulated men could realize he had breached their perimeter. The first didn’t even have time to turn from the window before a bullet passed through its skull and its body began to fall to the ground. The second was bringing its sidearm up when two bullets ripped through its body, one through its left lung and another through its throat.

The third decided to charge him. Midoriya caught the simulated blade between the barrel and mag well of his rifle before twisting the knife from its hands, kicking it in the side of the knee, and placing another round through the side of its head. Nine.

Izuku stepped out into the entryway again before placing five more rounds into two holotargets coming down the stairs. Four. Midoriya swept the two remaining rooms and made his way to the stairs. Two more targets waited down the upstairs hallway. One. Room to room, Midoriya cleared. None of them contained the last target. Then he heard the scream.

He was out of the room at the end of the hallway before the screaming stopped and had his rifle leveled at the final target. Its left arm was wrapped around the woman's throat while the other pressed a handgun to her head. Bile rose in his throat, even as memories of dead hostages rose to the surface of his mind. Men and women that he had let die for the greater good. The target was speaking, he distantly realized. The woman was crying as the man spoke to him. Gave him an ultimatum. The final bullet in his magazine ripped through the target's head before it could get out the last of its words. The female target slumped to the ground now, sobbing even as Izuku could faintly hear the ding and the synthetic voice stating that the simulation had been completed. The simulated humans faded from existence.

…

Snipe and his class were silent in the observation room. Some were in awe, others stood there with mixed feelings of horror and fear. But none of them could take their eyes off the time clock. Forty-nine seconds.

His students might not have caught it, he wouldn’t expect them to. He’d be worried if they did. But he’d been in those kinds of situations, and even through the cameras, Snipe saw the reaction when Midoriya had seen the hostage. He hadn’t missed it. No, the program had made him miss it. The holograms hadn’t been created until Izuku was sweeping the final room. When he saw the targets, Snipe had expected shock, maybe anger. Instead, he saw guilt and sorrow. Snipe took in a quiet, shuddering breath before, without thinking, simply saying, “Well, f*ck.”

…

Midoriya stepped out of the preparation room with his face carefully blank. He scanned the class, gauging their reactions, gauging whether or not he would have to give a speech or some other kind of inspiration to them. Gods know he didn’t want to do that right now. Instead, he caught the eyes of Kurihara, who immediately bowed to him, expressing his apologies. Nothing Midoriya hadn’t expected. People like him always regarded strength as their ultimate truth.

“Fine then. Snipe, I am going to go speak with my partner regarding her upgrades.” Snipe let him go. It wasn’t his place to speak with him, and he knew the boy wouldn’t appreciate being forced to speak, even if Snipe could make him. It wasn’t long after that, that Snipe let the class go for the day. They all had things they needed to do, and they all needed to ruminate on what they had just seen.

Chapter 28: Chapter #27 | Lasting Scars

Chapter Text

Somewhere inside him, Midoriya knew that he would have to apologize to Mei by the end of the day. He recognized he’d gone too far, said too much. It wasn’t her fault that he had reacted so poorly to the surprise. It was her fault she hadn’t warned him, of course, but objectively it wasn’t a bad way of testing unforeseen circ*mstances.

He needed time to get his emotions in line. Images of past hostage situations kept flashing behind his eyes, and it hadn’t been fair of him to take that out on Mei. Hadn’t been fair of him to take his own failures to protect civilians out on her.

Midoriya stepped back into class 1-A and began moving towards his desk while his face maintained its carefully blank mask that he had been cultivating since the simulation. Yaoyorozu spotted him at his entrance and stood, excited. She had been wanting to speak with him about the president's program all day, especially after she had experienced the classes and found them to be lacking.

Yaoyorozu found her arm wrapped in one of Jiro’s earjacks, and when she turned, confused, to the young woman, Yaoyorozu found her wide-eyed and frowning. “If you’re thinking of talking to green, I wouldn’t. It’s been a while since I saw that look on his face, but he’s in a foul mood.”

Midoriya sat down at his desk with the large duffel he had been carrying over his shoulder. Only a few of the students in the class noticed his entrance, and since he hadn’t been stealthy in the slightest, he was once again struck with the feeling that they needed to pay better attention.

Bakugo was being, all things considered, better than Midoriya had expected. While he snarled every time he looked at Izuku, and Midoriya could feel his eyes constantly tracking and glaring at him, he was at least not trying to blow him up. Progress of a kind, I suppose.

The thumping in the hallway was the first thing that indicated his day was about to get more difficult. He had been forewarned by the president that the oaf was going to be their professor. The president hadn’t quite ignored his warnings about the man, and in this specific case, Aizawa had been on his side. Unfortunately for both Midoriya and the school's unofficial vice president, Nedzu had decided that giving the board it’s way on this one was for the best. Besides that, the man was never going to give up on Midoriya becoming his successor if he didn’t find another.

“I AM,” the class whipped their heads around to the door as the loud, proud, and passionate voice came from the other side of the door. “COMING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!”

Most of the class let out an excited rumble and began muttering various comments ranging from his costume to his atmosphere. A select few had other reactions and stood out compared to their classmates. Himiko was indifferent. Sure, she knew All Might was the number one hero, but in her mind, what was he in comparison to her own hero? Todoroki openly glared at the man in front of the class, as if he had somehow personally offended him, and Midoriya? Midoriya slid down deeper into his chair, rubbing at his temples and the oncoming headache he could already feel forming behind his eyes.

“I teach Hero Basic Training! It is a subject where you all will learn the basics of being a hero. Today is the first class, and while I’ve been cautioned to take it slow by my fellow professors, where would the excitement be? As such, let’s get right into it! What we’ll be doing today is none other than-” the entire class watched as the man spun around, impractical cape twirling, and revealed the card in his hand. “Combat Training!”

Midoriya couldn’t help the groan. What the actual f*ck is he thinking. His groans were drowned out by the excited screeching from the rest of the class, clearly too willfully ignorant to think of the issue with having combat training on the first day. The small crackles and smell of nitroglycerin filling the air was enough to tell him who was the most excited out of the entire class.

“And to go with the training are these!” All Might pressed a button on the teachers' station at the front of the room and, with a small hiss, drawers containing nineteen costumes slid out from the wall. Kirishima was the first to call out and question why Midoriya’s costume was missing.

Izuku sighed, hefting the duffel up into plain sight when the class turned in his direction. “My costume hasn’t been fully approved by Powerloader yet. I’ll be using basic gear, as well as a few pieces that have been approved.”

…

The changing room buzzed with chatter as the students all filed in and began to strip. Some congregated in groups, others slipped off and found their own corner. Midoriya was taking stock of what he had been allowed to bring along with him to this first exercise.

“Hey, Midoriya!” Izuku quirked his eyebrow at the approaching form of Kirishima. The man was loud enough that the entire changing area had quieted down and tuned into whatever question was about to be asked. “You said your costume wasn’t approved. What did you ha-”

If anyone hadn’t been paying attention before, they were now when Kirishima cut off mid-sentence in a choke. Izuku turned fully now to face the man. Had something happened? He couldn’t imagine the boisterous young man stopping his question for no reason. When he turned and Kirishima choked again, Midoriya stopped to study him. His eyes were wide, pupils blown out in shock, and his pale face provided a stark contrast to the bright red of his hair.

Midoriya followed where Kirishima, and now the rest of the class, was looking and found his own scarred chest. Mentally, he swore. He had grown too used to the people around him not saying anything that he forgot how the scar tissue would look to someone unaware. Across his back and chest still laid the network of scar and burn tissue. It was getting better, certainly, the scars with their once angry, almost fresh, appearance were fading to a ghostly white that, Izuku knew, would be gone entirely in a couple years. They likely would have already been gone if he hadn’t been pushing himself as hard as he had been for the last several years. The scars were by far the lowest priority for his body to heal.

“W-What the hell happened to you, Midoriya?! That’s a handprint scarred into you!” Izuku just sighed and waved it away.

“They are all old scars and don’t mean jack anymore. If you really want to know how they happened, then ask your other classmate, Bakugo. He was the one that put them there, after all.” Was it petty to throw him under the bus? Absolutely. Did Midoriya particularly care? Not in the slightest. Everyone's heads snapped around to stare in horror at the explosive blond, not wanting to believe that someone in their own course could do such a thing. When he did nothing but flip them off and give his usual spiel about the worthless deku deserving it, they grimaced and shook their heads, turning away from him.

Bakugo had made his bed and would have to overcome his past if he wanted to be a hero. Besides that, it was a quick way to shut everyone up. The headache was still there, despite the blocker he had taken for it. Mercifully for him, and suffocating for everyone else, there wasn’t another word as they all finished changing and stepped out into the tunnel.

…

Midoriya stepped out several moments after everyone else, as he’d needed to arrange his gear into their respective pouches for the first time. It took him all of three seconds to slam a hand against his forehead in absolute disdain for his classmates' costumes.

“Oh! Midoriya, you look so professional! I should have been more specific in what I wanted. It ended up as a skintight bodysuit…” Uraraka chuckled nervously at Midoriya as she spoke and he took a good look at her outfit. Black and skintight with pink trim, Uraraka had very little actual gear outside of what appeared to be a series of bands and chokers wrapped around her body.

In contrast, it would appear that Midoriya was carrying everything that she wasn’t. He stood tall in the grays, blacks, and whites of urban camouflage. Simple steel-toed black combat boots with the standard cargo pants and long sleeve shirt of a soldier marked him from head to toe as meaning business. The bulletproof vest he wore held simple but effective NIJ IV plates, and while he didn’t figure he’d need them with his classmates, he felt better with it on. The weight a familiar comfort. A series of pouches rested on the vest, providing him with ample space for supplies. On his left leg rested a soft pouch with a red cross, while a drop holster sat on his right with his slim, sleek sidearm resting inside of it. Two silver lines traced each side of his jaw, while on his arm was only a single patch, one of a black cat atop a silver moon.

Not for the first, nor, he suspected, the last time, Midoriya sighed. “I like the idea behind the suit. Space theme, right? I’m also guessing that the bands are for pressure points. Come talk to me after the exercise, though. If the school won’t fix the glaring issues, then Mei and I will be happy to do so. Besides, as we work with you on your quirk, it’ll need changes, anyway.” Uraraka smiled and agreed quickly. She wasn’t a prude by any means, but that didn’t mean she was comfortable in what felt like a skin-tight suit a size too small. It wasn’t until Midoriya zeroed in on someone behind her that she realized how many of them might have questionable designs to the engineer.

Midoriya excused himself before stalking his way across the gathering area to place one of his calloused hands on the shoulder of Hagakure Toru. “Ashido, Yaoyorozu, Hagakure, all three of you are coming with me to the support department after today’s exercises to get your costumes sorted out.” Midoriya, still holding Hagakure in place by her shoulder, cut them off with his other hand. “No arguments. While there are issues with other costumes, you three have the most glaring issues.”

Ashido waved her hands in the air. “Oh, come on. There isn’t anything wrong, especially with Yaomomo’s. She looks great in it.” Yaoyorozu blushed lightly at the pinkette’s compliment, but since she appeared to second the sentiment, he shook his head.

“You’re right, she does look good. So do you.” Both women flushed but sensed a but coming. “But, Yaoyorozu, your designer should have known better. Not only is there no need for massive unguarded holes in your costume, as there is such a thing as self-healing fabric, but there is absolutely no need for you to carry around a book.”

Midoriya turned now to Ashido, who was looking at him warily. Midoriya merely smirked before saying one thing. “Your costume isn’t acid proof, is it, Mi-na?” The lilac flush told him everything he needed to know, though he did catch her faintly muttering something about how only her shoes needed it. He leaned down into the ear of Hagakure, whispering to spare the poor woman the embarrassment. “Do I even need to explain why with you?” Midoriya felt Hagakure shake her head silently before he let go of her very naked shoulder.

Midoriya turned, satisfied with their silent concessions, and was met by Iida, who began to vigorously chop his hands and attempt to lecture Midoriya regarding the perceived rude behavior of immediately trying to change others' costumes. Midoryia shut him up with a glare, looked him up and down, and began to speak again. “Make that four. You’re coming, as well, Iida. Do the words crumple zone mean nothing to you or your damn brother?”

…

It was All Might’s interjected cough that pulled everyone's attention, and it was All Might who funneled everyone into the observation room before explaining the exercise they would be performing today. Apparently, the damn mooncalf thought it would be a good idea to skip the actual training step and throw them straight into combat simulations.

“The situation is that the villains have hidden a nuclear weapon somewhere in their hideout. The heroes are going to dispose of that.” He’s reading from a gods damned script. Midoriya couldn’t help but deadpan at their utterly inept teacher as the man read from notecards to explain the exercise they would be taking part in. “The heroes need to either capture both villains or recover the bomb. The villains, meanwhile, need to either capture both heroes or defend the bomb the entire time.” Oh yes, let's just ignore the scenario where the villains detonate the bomb because they know they can’t beat the heroes.

“Teams and opponents will be determined by drawing lots!”

“They’re being decided so haphazardly?” Iida chopped his arms and attempted to question the randomization of the teams. Midoriya felt his eye twitch, but it was actually Jiro that spoke up first.

“Nah, this is the only sensible part of this so far. We don’t know who we’ll have to team up with out in the field. It simulates that.” Pride is what Midoriya felt now. It was good to know that not only was at least some of the training sinking in, but Jiro and, going by the look on her face, Himiko felt that this was ridiculous, as well. Izuku smiled a bit, remembering the first few training sessions with the both of them. They knew first-hand why training was important before running simulations.

Midoriya’s smile persisted all the way through the picking of teams. Frankly, out of the class, he didn’t really care who he ended up with, as long as it wasn’t Bakugo. But Uraraka had been nice thus far, and he could use this time to observe her quirk a bit more. His smile slid off his face, though, when he saw the first two teams picked for the exercise.

Team A: Uraraka Ochako & Midoriya Izuku vs. Iida Tenya & Bakugo Katsuki

f*ck.

…

The first thing Midoriya did was approach All Might while shaking his head. He liked Uraraka, but after the day he’d had, he didn’t need to be going against the ticking time bomb. It was when he called out to All Might that he discovered he was in for yet another surprise for the day.

“Ah, young Midoriya, I’m glad you came over. I was needing to speak with you before your match.”

“As was I. You need to either swap me with another team or Bakugo.” All Might scrunched up his eyebrows and looked at the boy, confused.

“I have no intention of doing that, young Midoriya. Why would you ask for it?”

“I have a, ah, bad reaction to explosions and fire. I am generally fine, and normally I wouldn’t have an issue with this matchup, but today has been. Trying. That’s the word we’ll use. I planned on talking to Hound Dog about it sometime this week.”

All Might shook his head but gave Midoriya a soft smile that Izuku was sure he intended to be comforting. “I see. We can’t always choose what enemies we go up against. I’ll have to ask that you bear with it. Trust me, if things get out of control, I’ll step in and stop it.”

So not even remotely listening to the fact that I plan on dealing with it. f*ck you too, All Might. f*ck you too. “Fine. If that is what you think.”

“I am going to also have to ask that you surrender your sidearm for this exercise.” All Might began to reach for Midoriya’s weapon, completely oblivious to the eye twitch or the fury sparking in his gaze. Before his hand could get halfway there, Midoriya’s hand was clamped down on his forearm.

“Over my cold, dead f*cking body, All Might.”

“Young man, I cannot approve of you having a firearm during a first-year training exercise.”

“I don’t really give a sh*t what you approve of. Snipe has already signed off on my use of training ammunition during training exercises.”

“Young man, I don’t want to do it, but if you don’t turn over the firearm, I’ll fail you on this lesson.” Another eye twitch and Midoriya was snarling and pulling his weapon from its holster. But rather than hand it off to All Might, he spun on his heel and handed it over to Jiro.

“Fine. But there is no way in hell I am handing a loaded gun to you. We’re also going to have a nice, long discussion with the president and U.A’s resident firearms expert after this exercise.”

“Thank you, young Midoriya.” Midoriya simply walked out of the room without another word.

…

Uraraka let out a long sigh and a bit of a pained moan. “Jeez, memorizing the building's floor plan is a lot of work.”

“Important work, though. You’ll never want to go into a situation without information. Though inevitable sometimes, it is still a danger to do so.”

Looking over, Uraraka found Midoriya working with some kind of holographic projection originating from a band on his wrist. “And got it.” The holograph sputtered for a second before a projection of what appeared to be the security feeds arose in the air with detailed correlation to a projected map beside it. “As I said, no information is a bad thing. This’ll make things easier.”

Uraraka shook her head, startled, and nervously stuttered out a question on the legality of his actions. Izuku merely quirked an eyebrow while he continued to study the projection. “There was no rule against hacking into the security feeds. Or if you’re asking about the literal legal ramifications of me hacking into a U.A. system, then don’t be. The president and I have a kind of game going on to see which of us can succeed. Can he stop me? Can I get past him? It entertains us. But regardless, I’ve got a plan. Interject if you feel the need.”

“They’ve set up the bomb here, in this room.” Izuku gestured to the map, and Uraraka simply shook her head. I’ve only known him for a couple days, and already this is starting to seem normal. “In all likelihood, Bakugo will abandon Iida to fend for himself and come straight for me. I pissed him off earlier by throwing him under the bus, and we have a past that he’ll most certainly take this opportunity to settle.”

“So we take him down and move on to Iida quickly? Set up an ambush for Bakugo?” Izuku scratched his cheek with the hand not currently projecting, thinking, and finally shook his head.

“If this were a real mission, I’d say yes. But the fact of the matter is that this is still a training exercise, even if All Might has screwed up royally by throwing you all in without actual training. You aren’t up to fighting Bakugo yet, and that isn’t disparaging you or your quirk. He’s a natural fighter and is particularly vicious. I’d like to think he wouldn’t take things too far, trying to get to me, but who knows. You split off from us, and I’ll handle Bakugo. Iida will likely clean up the room so you can’t do anything, so pick up some ammo along the way.”

“Iida’s fast. I’m not sure I can take him in a straight-up fight.” Izuku tilted his head back and forth before shaking it.

“You can do it, it just depends on how things go. If you need help, then just call for it on the comms and I’ll come right up.”

“I thought you just said it was a training exercise and nothing would be learned.” Izuku chuckled.

“That I did, but knowing when to ask for help is also a good thing to know how to do.”

…

Aizawa had a bad feeling. That wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, of course. He was always tired and overworked. But this particular bad feeling was because of their new professor for hero training. The man may have been fantastic as a daylight hero, and never would anyone hear him say that, but he was utterly incompetent when dealing with people.

So rather than sleeping peacefully in the teachers' lounge, like he wanted to be doing, Aizawa found himself slinking into the observation room after not finding the class doing any kind of basic training.

If he’d had a bad feeling before, then he felt queasy when he saw what was going on. The oaf had decided to throw them into combat simulations rather than teach them to fight. The queasy feeling graduated to nausea when he saw Midoriya breaching through the front door of a building that Bakugo, of all people, was in. While he trusted Midoriya not to take a training exercise too far, he couldn’t help but be worried after he’d witnessed him, a teenager at the time, practically liquefy a man against a wall for a flash grenade.

He decided that he most certainly wouldn’t be leaving this to All Might. Aizawa stepped forward, startling everyone in the room, including the mountain of a number one hero. “A-Aizawa. I wasn’t aware you planned on attending the course today!”

“Turn on the audio.”

“But what about their privacy?” Aizawa side-eyed All Might with as much derision as he could possibly muster at that moment.

“If the students decide to say something stupid or embarrassing while on comms during a simulation or a mission, they deserve what they get. Turn the audio on.”

…

Midoriya loved being right. Bakugo spun around the corner, roaring as he did so and clearly aiming for Midoriya. He was met with a steel-toed boot into his gut, sending him practically skipping back down the hallway.

Uraraka hesitated for a moment but nodded resolutely and started sprinting for the stairs. Izuku turned then, meeting Bakugo’s glare and snarl with his own Cheshire smile.

“It doesn’t matter who the f*ck you are. I’m going to beat you into the f*cking ground and make you spill your guts!”

Izuku scrunched his brows at the comment. “What the hell are you talking about, Bakugo?”

“Oh don’t give me that bullsh*t. You aren’t Deku. I don’t know what the hell happened to him in that alley, but you aren’t Midoriya Izuku. I don’t know if you killed him and took his place or what. Hell, maybe you killed him in the hospital and took his place, but you sure as f*ck aren’t him, and that makes you a god damn villain.”

It clicked into place, and Midoriya couldn’t help but laugh. “You- you think. Oh god, that’s too good. You are the stupidest smart person I’ve ever met, Bakugo Katsuki. You are so close and yet so f*cking far, it shouldn’t be funny.”

Bakugo lunged at him, swinging wide with his right fist. Midoriya simply sidestepped it before smacking him on the back and sending him stumbling. “You don’t get to f*cking make fun of me, you f*ck. Because of you, the old hag spent years sending me to therapy where some worthless extra would spend f*cking hours picking my god damn brain for sh*tty bullsh*t excuses. Deku would never have done the things you did, so I’m going to f*cking kill you and expose your whole plot to the world.”

Izuku rolled his eyes and continued deflecting, twisting here and jabbing there. Katsuki was a natural, but even with Midoriya’s flinches from the explosions, he couldn’t even get remotely close to landing a blow with his untrained brawler fighting style. “I know you won’t understand this, Bakugo, but there are more important things in life than your approval. I don’t give a single sh*t what you think.”

“Uh, Midoriya, I could use some help up here. Iida’s too fast, and I can’t really do anything, even with the ammo I brought up.”

“Ah, sure. Don’t worry, I’ll be right up,” Izuku smirked again as Bakugo stumbled back from a knee strike to the ribs. “Looks like our time is up, Bakugo. Be sure to book another session with Doctor Midoriya. I thought we were making some real progress here.”

Bakugo screamed and lunged for Midoriya again, using his own explosions to propel himself forward. Midoriya twisted around the blow and lashed his leg back and up to where Bakugo was attempting to maneuver over him. Izuku’s foot made a clean connection with Katsuki’s sternum, dropping him to the ground, gasping for breath.

Izuku wasted no time in twisting Bakugo’s arms behind his back and wrapping them in capture tape. “Honestly not bad, Bakugo. Need to work on the anger issues and get some proper training in you, but you might just make a half-decent hero one day. Good fight.”

…

Aizawa couldn’t help but rub his temples as he watched the fight occur. What Bakugo was spouting was… concerning, to say the least. He wouldn’t have believed any of it if it hadn’t been for Midoriya’s partial admission that something else did happen in that alleyway.

But outside of even that, what was more concerning was Midoriya’s actions during the fight. Something wasn’t right with him. The shift was right when Bakugo started throwing small-scale explosions at Midoriya.

It was subtle, enough so that Aizawa barely noticed the change. Midoriya covered it well with taunts and jeers, with little slaps and shoves, but his eyes told a different story. They’d glass over or go unfocused for just a moment. But a moment was enough for him to see it. He caught Midoriya altering several moves that, if they hadn’t been altered, could have been severely debilitating, if not lethal, to his opponent.

“Oof, oh come on, Midoriya. This isn’t manly at all. Just finish him off, don’t toy with the poor bastard.” Kirishima was the one that finally broke the stunned silence after a particularly brutal punch to Bakugo’s kidney.

Aizawa was sorely tempted to admonish him, were it not for his own nerves wanting Midoriya out of the fight before he could lose a student. It was Himiko, instead, that said something while shaking her head at Kirishima. “He’s not toying with him, he’s trying to teach him. Watch and listen carefully. Bakugo wouldn’t take constructive advice if it bit him in the ass. I’ve known him for all of a couple days and I can already tell that much. Every time Midoriya dodges, he strikes Bakugo in some way, but listen to what he’s saying when he taunts him. It’s all designed so that the bastard can learn from it and not think that Midoriya is teaching him something.”

Kirishima shook his head. “Why would he want to help his opponent? It’s a competitive exercise.”

“There is something to be said about not giving your opponent any chance in a friendly match, Kirishima! I find it to be rather admirable that young Midoriya is going out of his way to try to teach during the exercise!”

Aizawa couldn’t care less as to the why and was mostly concerned with the result. He wasn’t fighting seriously, and it could have very well been keeping Bakugo from becoming a meat paste. Aizawa couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief when Midoriya tied Bakugo up with the capture tape before walking away, and when All Might called Bakugo out of the exercise. The relief was short-lived when Bakugo, in his anger, snapped the capture tape. He felt his eyes nearly bug out of his head when he finally realized that the gauntlets weren’t just aesthetic and that Bakugo was pulling the damn pin on one of them.

Hell let loose as Bakugo smiled like a madman. A flash was all they saw before the side of the building was blown apart by a massive gout of orange-red flame that turned the building itself into shrapnel.

“You son of a bitch.” Aizawa jerked at the curse from Himiko, and it took him a moment to realize it was directed towards All Might. “You wouldn’t let Izuku have his sidearm, but you f*cking okayed a god damn BOMB?!”

Aizawa was watching the smoke clear while hoping beyond hope that everything was going to go better than his gut was telling him it would. That hope died when the smoke cleared enough to show Izuku in a crouch. The silver lining on the edge of his jaw had snapped out into a mask of some kind, covering the lower half of his face.

Aizawa didn’t need to see his entire face to see that he was absolutely furious. He only needed to see his eyes to realize that Midoriya was somewhere else right now. What they had thought had been rubble shifting turned out to be Midoriya growling at Bakugo. For just a split second, Aizawa held onto that hope as he reached for the microphone to call the match.

That split second of hope was all he got as Midoriya blurred on camera. One moment he was almost to the end of the hallway, and the next, he was slamming his fist into Bakugo’s gut. Bakugo practically doubled over from the force, retching as he went, only to be met with an armored kneecap to the face.

His head snapped back and Midoriya clapped his hands down hard over Bakugo’s ears, grabbing and pulling his head down for another knee strike to the face. Bakugo tried to swing back, tried to get Midoriya away from him long enough to get his bearings, but the attempt was futile as Midoriya batted his arm aside and slammed Bakugo’s head into the wall.

Aizawa activated the microphone and prepared to call the match to an immediate halt when Izuku grabbed Katsuki by the throat and slammed him into the ground with one arm, drawing his knife in the other. All Aizawa could do was scream for Midoriya to stop as the blade veered towards Bakugo’s face.

…

Midoriya sat, straddling Baguko’s chest, panting, doing everything he could to mentally pull himself from the pit of memory. Pull himself from the broken buildings and ruined structures of battlegrounds past. To wipe away the image of dead civilians because he'd been too slow to stop this god damn bastard from killi- no, not a soldier. Bakugo. Not a soldier.

Bakugo’s eyes were blown wide from fear and panic. Midoriya glared down at the boy who had clearly learned absolutely nothing. He wasn’t worried about the man trying anything further. No, being pinned into the ground by a knife through your left ear tended to have the effect of fear-driven paralysis.

Midoriya groaned as he felt the adrenaline wearing down. His right leg had been singed in the explosion, and while most of the fabric had been blown away, he could feel other bits that had been melted into his skin. The smell of burnt flesh had been the tipping point. The explosion was bad enough, but add in the heat? The destruction? The smell of cooking skin? He'd rushed the perceived threat without a second thought, and he had utterly f*cked his muscles doing that.

Oh, nothing had been obliterated like with the ball toss, but he’d moved too quickly and torn the muscles in his legs again. Then he’d blitzed Bakugo in a series of strikes that tore the muscles in his chest and arms. It wasn’t enough to stop him from moving around by any means, but he was going to be sore as hell momentarily while his body fixed the little tears.

Midoriya surveyed the hallway around him. Or, well, he attempted to before realizing that the blast had been far larger than either of them had realized. Most of that floor had been practically obliterated, and the building itself was making an ominous creaking sound that didn’t endear him into staying inside of it for much longer. Damn it all to hell. I warned All Might I shouldn't be in this match.

“This exercise is officially over. All of you back to the observation room. Now.”

Oh goody, Aizawa was watching that. What else have you got for me, day? What other absolute bullsh*t have you got for me to deal with? Izuku pulled his knife from Bakugo’s ear, eliciting a small grunt of pain. Izuku rolled his eyes before standing up and getting off of Bakugo, who rolled over, coughing and doing his best to press himself to his feet.

The building creaked again, but this time, there was a crunch, followed by a snap, a scream, and the building collapsed.

Chapter 29: Chapter #28 | Tears of Bones

Chapter Text

Aizawa was in a dead sprint out of the observation room before the building could even finish settling. Logically, he should have given orders first. Logically, he should have ordered All Might to stay with the students and for everyone to stay calm. But Shota wasn’t thinking logically, and he most certainly wasn’t calm. He fought to shove down images of his late friend's broken body, but as he stepped out onto the street, Shota froze.

The air was thick with the grey dust and ashes of the crumbling building. Half of it still stood, albeit heavily damaged, while the other half had practically collapsed inward before spilling out onto the street. The fake vehicles parked alongside the road had been crushed inwards from the debris landing on their roofs. Aizawa could hear the shifting of the building from where he stood. The main collapse may have finished, but the building creaked ominously and the subtle shifting and grinding of concrete implied a following collapse was well within the realm of possibility. Faint footsteps grew louder until they were behind him.

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Aizawa glanced back to find his entire class standing with All Might, staring at the absolute wreckage of what had once been their testing building. Ojiro hadn’t been the only one to have a shocked reaction, Aizawa noted. A vast majority of the class had grown pale and wide-eyed as they took in the carnage. Even Asui, known already for not showing many emotions, was visibly worried.

Aizawa closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Now isn’t the time for this. Later. I'll deal with this later. He turned, opening his mouth to take control of the situation, and the sound of shattering glass ripped through the air just as the shards did. All Might hastily threw himself in front of the class, catching the blond, bloody package that came flying out from the window. Bakugo.

Now that Aizawa got a good look at the boy, he looked far rougher than he should have come out of their first day looking. Small glass shards peppered his costume, and a few of the larger ones had pierced the fabric, leaving small pools of blood. Bruises already littered his skin from Midoriya’s strikes, and his nose was very clearly broken. Bakugo’s eyes were dilated and stared through him at the building that had finally settled, leaving the world an uncomfortable quiet.

It was because of the quiet that every one of them heard the cursing and crunching of glass as a second figure came out of the window. Aizawa's eyes traced the path from Bakugo, who was clearly going into shock, to an equally rough looking Midoriya. Blood dripped down his face on one side where he’d taken some kind of blow, likely from the collapse, while his right calf had been completely exposed to the blast that caused this mess in the first place. The skin was black with carbonization, and the muscle was clearly visible in patches. It confused Aizawa, though, that there were patches of angry, red muscles and even patches that he could have sworn were regenerating. How the hell is he even walking on that? Both boys were pale, and the dust caked to them and in the air gave them the appearance of ghosts of the damned.

Izuku snarled when he saw All Might but shook his head and retracted his mask before spitting blood onto the ground. “What’s the status, sir? Iida and Uraraka out yet?” Aizawa could see the fury in Midoriya’s eyes, could see the urge to lunge at the number one hero. He had to respect the self-control needed to prioritize, but that level of animosity was concerning. Something beyond simply having had his gun taken from him. He’d get to the bottom of that later, but for now, Midoriya had the right idea. Prioritize.

…

“No, you two are the first out.” Midoriya cursed and shot another hateful glare towards All Might and Bakugo, who had been set down on the ground. He’d deal with them later, when the situation permitted it.

Midoriya reached up to his neck and tapped the communicator embedded there. It was less than a second before he was connected. “Phoenix, we have an emergency situation. Building collapse during training. Alert the paramedics we have wounded and contact the president, as well as Recovery Girl.”

Roger that, Izuku. Paramedics have already been alerted and are on their way. Relaying the situation to the president and Recovery Girl now. Do you want me to alert Mother?

“Midoriya? Who are you speaking with, young man?” All Might took a few wary steps towards Midorya, concerned that the hit to his head had been worse than it seemed. Aizawa stepped in front of him and pinned him in place with a look. Aizawa knew exactly who Midoriya was speaking with; he just didn’t know how. Yet another question for a later time.

“Alert her. She’ll be pissed with us both if you don’t. Thanks, Phoenix.” Midoriya turned back to Aizawa and studied his face for a moment before nodding. “Paramedics are on the way and the president’s been alerted. I’m considering this a rescue operation now. I’m going in for them.”

“Absolutely not. You are injured! The building could collapse again at any moment and needs to be cleared first. And you have no idea where they are in there.” All Might moved to take a step around Aizawa before the smaller man once again stepped in his way and put one finger into the middle of his chest.

“You are sure, Midoriya? All Might brings some valid concerns up.”
“I am. You couldn’t stop me even if you wanted to. I’m not leaving another teammate behind in this sh*t.” Midoriya turned to the class next while Aizawa muttered to himself about something concerning. Izuku scanned the class, looking for one person in specific, and when he found them, he barked out their name, both to get everyone’s attention and to try and snap them out of their frozen states. “Kaminari!”

“Hieh!” The boy jumped nearly out of his skin when Midoriya called his name but turned his attention to him all the same.

“Can your quirk only emit electricity, or can you absorb it, as well?” Kaminari tilted his head, confused, as he didn’t see the relevance at the moment, but answered, anyway.

“I can absorb it a lot easier than emit it, but only up to a certain point. Why?”

Midoriya jerked his thumb at the collapsed building. “Good. Go around the back. There is a mainline power junction to every building. It should have automatically disconnected when the collapse occurred, but I’m not risking it. Pull the power if it hasn't.”

Kaminari wanted to argue but thought better of it, not only because of the situation and the fact that Aizawa wasn’t stopping Midoriya from taking control, but because the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice demanded obedience.

Midoriya turned from Kaminari back to the class and began to call names out. “Shoji, Kyoka, Todoroki, Yaoyorozu. You four are coming with me. Shoji, work with Todoroki to identify weaknesses in the structure, then reinforce them with his ice. It’ll buy us the time that we need to evacuate everyone. Kyoka, you focus on finding them. You can pick out their heartbeats better than any of us could. Yaoyorozu, we’ll undoubtedly need medical supplies. Be ready to make whatever is needed once we find them.”

“And why exactly should I help you, Midoriya? You are going to get us all killed.” Yaoyorozu was horrified at Todoroki’s rejection of Midoriya’s plan and opened her mouth to argue that he would be letting two of his classmates suffer and possibly die if he didn’t help. Before she could, something snapped.

The air was suffocating and heavy. Every one of the class members' nerves suddenly felt as if they were on fire as Midoriya growled. Everyone took a step back, and All Might’s head whipped around to Midoriya as his side clenched. They couldn’t breathe, they couldn’t make a noise. If they didn’t do exactly as he said, there would be reprisal. Of that, they were certain. It was a promise of pain and suffering for disobedience. Midoriya’s eyes glowed, and his lips twisted in a snarl as he bored into Todoroki with his vision.

Then, as quickly as it came, it was gone. Midoriya’s eyes were closed, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. When he spoke, it was sad with a tinge of pity. “I see. Well, I suppose that is alright. Our classmates were counting on your ice to keep them alive, but I’m certain we can achieve something of the same effect with Sero’s tape. Not as effective, but we can make do. I do wonder, though. If you want so badly to be different from your father, why are you behaving exactly as he would?”

It was a low blow, Midoriya knew. He’d spend some time apologizing to Dabi and Natsuo for using that against their younger brother. But later. That could come later. Izuku could see it got the desired effect the moment he said it. Fury blazed up in his eyes, quickly followed by the realization and abject horror. He bowed his head as if to apologize before turning to Shoji and agreeing to work with him.

“Himiko, take the other students back into the observation room. It’s safe there, and they need to calm down.”

“But-”

“Himiko.” Midoriya cut her off and shook his head. “I know. But look at them. They need to get away from it.” Toga turned now to see what Izuku was seeing. Toru clinging to Mina, Shinso doing his best to talk Asui down from rushing in without his quirk, Pony still as rigid as one of her own horns. Clear enough what Midoriya wanted from her. “Let’s go, everyone. We’re working on borrowed time here.”

…

“You can’t be serious, Aizawa. They are students, and they aren’t trained for rescue operations. It doesn’t matter if Midoriya has medical experience. He isn’t ready for something like this.”

“All Might, you might just be one of the most oblivious people I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting, much less working with. Nedzu and I don’t know how or why, but clearly Midoriya is trained in a lot more than just rescue training.”

All Might watched as the students entered the building, Midoriya giving directions as they went. His hand unconsciously went to the hole in his side, and he grimaced. “Clearly, Aizawa. The kid is dangerous. I’ve not felt pressure like that since I faced off with All for One. But they are barely eighteen, Aizawa. Most of the students in the class aren’t even nineteen yet. One of us should at least be going in with them.”

“I’m not going in there because I would be a liability, and we both know it. You are being blinded by their age, and what do you mean clearly? Are you telling me that you realized what was happening was dangerous, and you didn’t step in to stop it?”

All Might was quiet when he responded. His face was serious as the students filed back inside the observation room. His trademark smile was missing. “I wanted Midoriya to see that, without a quirk, he’d have to deal with overwhelming force at some point that he couldn’t handle. I didn’t expect things to get so far out of hand. I certainly didn’t expect young Bakugo’s reaction to young Midoriya, and I didn’t expect things to escalate like that.”

“What the hell do you mean you didn’t expect things to escalate like that?” Both professors turned to find Toga standing behind them, practically radiating rage. “He told you this would happen. He told you he needed to speak with Hound Dog, and you ignored him.”

“You did WHAT?” Aizawa whipped his head around to All Might. He had already been angry that the walking disaster let this happen. But now hearing this, that two of his students being possibly dead or horrendously injured was completely avoidable, he was ready to come undone. “You are going to explain. Now.”

…

It didn’t take the team long to find Iida. The moment they had called out for the two missing students, the speedster had started calling back, trying to direct them to him. That isn’t to say there hadn’t been several close calls. Even if he would feel bad for how he went about getting Todoroki to help, he didn’t feel bad about the end result. The building was unstable and just waiting for an excuse to collapse again.

When they’d worked their way past the last of the rubble between the two parties, what they found could have been better. Iida had been pinned underneath a larger piece of rubble by both his right leg and his chest. “How are you feeling, Iida? Can you tell me what happened? Do you remember the collapse?”

The boy's throat was dry as Shoji looked for handholds on the rubble resting on Iida’s chest before, at Midoriya’s instruction, carefully shifting the rubble off of Iida. “Ah, yes. Aizawa suddenly yelled that the exercise was over. I pulled off my helmet because we were confused as to what had happened. Uraraka and I were getting ready to exit the building at the end of the exercise when there was suddenly this loud crash. Then all I remember is waking up trapped under that concrete.”

Midoriya carefully checked over Iida while he listened. Initially, he’d tried to sit up when the rubble was removed, but a gentle hand on his shoulder kept Iida from doing that. Midoriya pulled a small penlight from one of his waist pouches before checking Iida’s pupils. One’s half dilating. sh*t. “Any fuzzy vision, Iida?” When the speedster affirmed as much, Midoriya clicked his tongue.

“Midoriya! I’ve found her over here!” Kyoka’s call had Midoriya’s head snapping around and his eye’s zeroing in on the limp form across the room. f*ck.

“Alright. Iida’s got a concussion and his armor got shot to sh*t from the rubble. He’s got shards of it in both his leg and chest. Three broken ribs. Shoji, carry him out, but be careful. Recovery Girl should be showing up soon or has already. Relay what I just said to her. Yaoyorozu.”

The girl, who had been bandaging Iida’s leg after peeling back the armor, looked up from what she was doing. Her face looked haunted by this. The only light any of them had to work with were the LED neck lights she’d created, and in that sharp, washed-out light, she looked like she was going to be sick. Which, honestly, Midoriya couldn’t blame her for. Iida’s armor had been a grizzly sight, a sick bending of metal penetrating and lacerating flesh. “We need to move. With me.”

Shoji picked Iida up, despite the boy's insistence that he could walk now, and carried him from the room while the remaining three made their way to Kyoka, where she was sitting with the freshly uncovered Uraraka. It took only one look before Yaoyorozu was stumbling off into a frozen corner to empty the contents of her stomach. It took only one look before Midoriya was clenching his fists and taking a deep breath. sh*tf*ck.

Moving quickly, Midoriya moved to Uraraka and started his examination with Yaoyorozu bandaging as they went, making confirmations. Multiple broken ribs, multiple lacerations, bruising around her eyes and behind her ears. Clear fluid leaked from her nose and ears while her skin was chilled and clammy. Hissing, he took note of the rebar piercing through her right lumbar and sticking out through her left side.

“Yaoyorozu,” Midoriya called out to the sick girl while taking Uraraka’s pulse. “We’re gonna need a brace, stretcher, and bolt cutters. We need to get her out and into an OR as quickly as possible.”

“Bolt cutt-” At this point, Yaoyorozu couldn’t have gotten paler but focused herself on the task at hand while Midoriya ordered Kyoka to make sure they had a clear path back. Yaoyorozu passed Midoriya the bolt cutters and followed his orders to place the brace around Uraraka’s neck.

Midoriya placed the bolt cutters at the base of the rebar before snapping them closed and shearing the rebar apart. Quickly, he discarded the tool and, signaling Yaoyorozu, carefully shifted Uraraka onto the rudimentary stretcher that had been created before picking it up and beginning to move out of the space.

“Todoroki, use your fire to try to keep her temperature up. We’re leaving. If the rooms collapse behind us, it's fine.”

“I told you all on day one, I’m not going to us-”

“Shut the f*ck up, Todoroki. Right now, I don’t give a flying f*ck about your personal feud with your sh*tbag of a father. I’m not going to have Uraraka die of hypothermia because of your daddy issues. f*cking do it.”

…

Midoriya and company rushed out of the hole they’d entered through back into the daylight to find both Recovery Girl and the paramedics on scene. All three were fussing over their respective patients. The paramedics with Iida and Shuzenji with Bakugo. It was two steps out the hole, one to adjust to the light, when Midoriya opened his mouth and yelled for them.

“We’ve got critical here!” It took no more than another second for Shuzenji to come running for them while the paramedics grabbed a proper stretcher and their medical equipment. She might have been getting on in her years, but she could still certainly get around just fine. Especially if it were for her patients. Shuzenji had barely begun her own check when the paramedics skidded to a stop beside where they’d set Uraraka down and Midoriya began reporting faster than the students could keep up with any longer.

“Broken ribs, lacerations, both raccoon eyes, and battle signs. CSF leaks from nose and ears, as well as hemotympanum.” The paramedics took over quickly, transferring the broken girl to their stretcher and beginning to move towards the ambulance. Midoriya continued to rattle as they moved. “Rebar through her right lumbar. Pierced intestine and lower left kidney. Stage two hemorrhagic shock, and we’re moving towards three. The ER is expecting you. Get her there quickly.”

The sound of the ambulance's siren wailed as the vehicle took off, and in the stark silence of the aftermath, the echoing shriek bounced from wall to wall long after the ambulance had left their field of vision. Midoriya took a deep breath now and shuddered while looking down at his own hands. Once again, he was covered in the blood of one of his teammates.

Midoriya turned to the waiting, expecting to find at least one of his professors. Instead, he found Shuzenji checking his rescue team and realized that it wasn’t just him that looked like sh*t. Yaoyorozu was pale with deep bags under her eyes. The comparison to Aizawa would have been funny here if the circ*mstances behind it weren’t so incredibly messed up. Blood that should have blended in with her hero costume instead stood out starkly against her skin.

Todoroki wouldn’t look him in the eye, but if that was because he was angry with him, or because he had realized something during their arguments, Midoriya wasn’t sure. At that moment, he also wasn’t sure if he cared. When Midoriya found the two professors to report the situation, he found the president with them.

To say Nedzu was furious would have been like calling the surface of the sun warm. His fur was standing on end, and he stood at full attention. His ears were flat back against his head, and his full array of razor-sharp teeth were on display. His paws flexed, his claws aching to tear into something. It was when his eyes moved past the number one hero and saw Midoriya in the doorway that the fury gave way to abject horror.

Midoriya was fully aware of how it looked to anyone else. The military gear he wore had been practically coated in his own blood, as well as the blood of his fellow students. His leg was still in a state of half repair, and his eyes were flat as he stared at the number one hero.

“President Nedzu. Good to see you, sir. I was going to come get you before I left. Uraraka Ochako has just been transported to Musutafu General in critical condition. I’ll be contacting her parents from there. Would you like to come with, or will you stay here?”

“Young Midoriya, you can’t go anywhere yet. We need to-” Izuku’s leg slammed home between the number one's legs faster than any of them could even register that he had moved. The crunch that followed, as well as the soulful wail of the hero, made Aizawa blanch and even Nedzu shift uncomfortably in place. Neither, however, moved, because that flat look had transformed into one of pure, distilled fury.

“Shut up, All Might. You have done enough damage today, and so help me, by any of the gods, if Uraraka doesn’t make it, I’m coming for you next.” Midoriya spun on his heel before striding out the door without another look back towards his professors.

“I’m going with him. I’ll need to be there when he contacts Mr. and Mrs. Uraraka. Aizawa, you know what to do.”

“Yes, sir.” The President rushed from the room quickly to catch up to Midoriya while Aizawa did his best to pat the back of the now vomiting number one hero. If Aizawa was hiding a smirk behind his capture gear while doing so? Well, no one needed to know that.

Chapter 30: Chapter #29 | Traces In Dreams

Chapter Text

“Life is a precious thing. All life. You may laugh, because isn’t that obvious? It’s something we all hear from the moment we are born until the very moment we die. Not because we all have some kind of higher purpose, or because we are all pawns in the games of a benevolent god. But because there is the capacity for good in every being. Even if we were the play toys of something cosmically greater, I would still say every life is precious and hold to that ideal. I have taken lives. Too many to count, and each weighs on me greater than the last. Not because of guilt, but rather regret. Every life's value is priceless.”

—Excerpt from the memoirs of underground hero Shimura Nana.

The walk towards Midoriya’s waiting vehicle was strained. The atmosphere once Nedzu climbed into the back with him was just shy of purely venomous. Nedzu was surprised to find the head of security for Moonlit Industries behind the wheel, as well as his other student in the passenger seat. It shouldn’t surprise him, of course. Hatsume had known somehow even before he had. Nedzu had expected to see the head of security. An incident had occurred with one of the CEOs, and Dabi was dedicated to the two heads of the company in a way that made the chimera shiver. That level of loyalty was dangerous.

“Mei. You didn’t have to come.” Midoriya’s voice was still rough, but not entirely from the fury that was practically radiating off the man like heat radiated from the sun.

“You’re right, I didn’t.” Mei tossed back what appeared to be a pen of some kind before turning back to the front of the vehicle and silently signaling Dabi to take them to the hospital.

Midoriya stared at the back of her head for a long moment as the car got underway, and if the eyes were a portal to one’s soul, then the emotions in Midoriya’s could have been told as an epic. The anger melted away, leaving only a weary thankfulness towards Hatsume. Midoriya let out a long sigh before slumping down in his seat and resting his head in his hands.

Midoriya coughed now into his hands before taking the pen that Hatsume had given him and pressing it against his neck with a hiss. Nedzu’s eyes widened in shock. Pressure syringes and coughing blood. Yet another conversation I’ll have to have.

…

The four members of the vehicle went their separate ways once they were in the parking garage. Midoriya had asked Hatsume to show the president to his office once they’d stopped, and Midoriya wasted no time in turning to Dabi once they’d been alone.

“Sir?” Dabi stood in parade rest with his back to the sleek black four-door sedan they had arrived in.

“I do believe I’ve told you before how weird that is coming from you. Stop that.” Midoriya shook his head and shuddered a little. That was just so utterly wrong coming from Dabi.

“Thank f*ck. I just thought I’d be a bit more professional, all things considered. It’s weird for me too. What do you need?”

“Phoenix has already brought you up to speed on what happened?”

“Gave me the basic outline. All Might put you into a matchup that shouldn’t have happened, and sh*t got ugly. All four of you were wounded with one going critical after a building collapse.”

Midoriya frowned but nodded slowly. “Close enough. Here’s what I want you to do. Get filled in fully, then contact our agent embedded with JNN. Get her up to speed and make sure her story gets through. Mobilize whatever assets you need to within reason.”

Dabi scowled and shook his head. He still wasn’t fond of the media even if he weren’t a wanted criminal anymore. “Why do we need to get Ms. Imada involved here? It’s not like this won’t be the front page of the next cycle. U.A. is the preeminent hero college in Japan, as well as part of the big five. Besides that, it involves All Might of all people.”

“It’s precisely because All Might is involved that we need to contact Ms. Imada. There is no way the HSPC won’t step in to do damage control, and they have both NNN and FNN practically in their pocket. We won’t win this, of course. Even for all the influence I wield right now, I don’t have any particular way of beating them in a media war. But we don’t need to. All we need is the other side circulating.”

“Mmm. f*ckers keep glossing over Endeavour’s messes, and if they can do that, then this won’t be any trouble for them.”

“We also need to talk about your brother later.” The words were barely out of Midoriya’s mouth when Dabi’s head snapped around to him and his hand froze from where it was trying to fish a cigarette out of his pocket.

“Natsuo? Did something happen with him?” Logically, Dabi knew that wasn’t the case. Phoenix would have alerted him the moment something happened to the man. But Midoriya could tell logic wasn’t ruling his mind right now. Not if the panic in his piercing ice-blue eyes was anything to go off of.

“No, no. Not Natsuo. He’s fine, as far as I know. He’s probably in class about now. No, this is about Shoto.”

Dabi let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding before shakily resuming his search for his cigarettes. “Okay. Okay, what about Shoto?”

“He’s refusing to use his fire.” Dabi looked up while placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it with his fingertip. He merely quirked one eyebrow at Midoriya. “Yes, I know. I still plan on letting you handle your own family's affairs until you want to involve me. But I almost had to force him into using it in a rescue setting.”

Dabi sighed, blowing smoke from his nose and tilting his head back to rest against the roof of the sedan. His right hand rested against the door with the still-burning cigarette, a low orange glow in the dim lights of the hospital's parking garage, smoke wisping away towards the ceiling. “I understand the spite all too well. If I had his quirk, I doubt I’d use my fire either, but during a crisis like that? Hell…”

Midoriya sighed. His head of security might have had a raging murder boner for Endeavour, that he might have encouraged to a degree, but he knew right from wrong. “Yeah. Hell about sums it up.”

…

Midoriya took only one step into his office before he wanted to turn around and walk back out. The president of U.A. was sitting in his office, one of his feet dangling out of the fifth-story window. Smoking a cigarette. “What. The f*ck. Must every chimera smoke? The world might never know.”

“Hmm? Oh, Midoriya, I didn’t hear you come in. Sorry about the smoke, but I needed to settle my nerves after everything so far. While I was waiting on you seemed like a good time.”

“That isn’t even remotely what is bothering me about this situation. Where did Mei go?” Izuku pulled open the drawer to his desk, pulling out an ashtray and handing it to the president, before pulling out medical supplies for himself.

Nedzu crushed the cigarette in the ashtray before setting it aside and hopping off the ledge, back into the room. “She said she was going to go check on some of her babies. I wasn’t aware she had any in a hospital. That kind of technology seems like it's more up your alley. Speaking of which, why is your office about as far away as it could be from the other offices?”

“I may be one of their biggest benefactors, but that doesn’t mean I’m immune to having to deal with bullsh*t politics involving the hospital's board of trustees. The doctors don’t like a quirkless upstart rooting into their territory, especially one that ‘isn’t a real doctor.’ Apparently, without doing a multi-year residency, some of the doctors get a bit bitchy. Don’t ask. Mei must be referring to several of her test patients. The hospital, after some more arguing, allowed patients to volunteer for prosthesis testing. She’s probably just checking on them, since the last iteration had some finicky little glitches in the software.”

Midoriya had pulled what remained of his pant leg up over his kneecap and begun bandaging the damaged tissue but froze when the next question came softly out of the president's muzzle. “And the syringe you used in the car? The blood you were coughing up?”

Midoriya stayed tense for a moment but forced himself to relax. An action not unnoticed by the president. “A co*cktail. Nutrients, proteins, antibiotics, whatever I might need.”

“For whatever healing quirk you have working on your leg right now? It’s bad, but isn’t nearly as bad as it was an hour ago, if the report from Aizawa is any indication.” Midoriya scowled before snorting.

“I don’t have a quirk. I've told you that.”

Nedzu didn’t believe he was being lied to, so he frowned. A facial feature that was becoming more and more common as he had to deal with Midoriya. “Then how?”

"Company secret."

"Midoriya…"

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to, Nedzu.” The president froze, skin crawling at Midoriya’s soft tone. It was warm and smooth. Inviting the listener to relax into it before snapping closed its jaws. “I don’t lie. Manipulate, redirect, twist, and on occasion, I’ll outright not answer. But I don’t lie. So do not ask a question that you don’t want the answer to.”

Midoriya tied off the bandage around his leg before spinning to the small computer terminal at his desk. The room was silent for a long moment. Nedzu absorbing what he’d just been told, Midoriya typing away on the computer.

“Uraraka is still in surgery, according to the nurses on duty at the moment. I’ll be calling her parents in just a moment. I assume you wish to speak with them when they get here?”

“You would assume correctly.”

“Then I’ll make sure a room is set aside for it.” Midoriya tapped several more buttons before sighing and reaching up to tap at the communicator embedded in his skin. “Phoenix, put me through to Mr. Uraraka. I’ve already sent you the number.”

Nedzu looked at him as if he wanted to ask, but Midoriya said nothing and simply stared back as the dial tone buzzed. He’ll either ask or he won’t. I certainly won’t be telling him without the question. At least I know that Aizawa is good for his word on not reporting Phoenix.

“You’ve reached Uraraka Contracting, how may I help you?” Midoriya glanced up at the clock and sighed. The poor man seemed tired, and based on the time, that didn’t surprise him. He was likely either just stepping away from a site or had just gotten back from one. Regardless, he didn’t really like dumping this news on his classmate's father at such a time. But it had to be done.

“I take it I am speaking with Mr. Uraraka himself?”

“You are, how can I help you?”

“I’m sorry to intrude at the end of your workday, sir, but I’m Doctor Midoriya Izuku calling from Musutafu General Hospital in regards to your daughter, Uraraka Ochako.”

Midoriya heard the hiss of a breath sucked in and the sound of a woman in the background asking him what was wrong. Midoriya closed his eyes and breathed deeply. This part was never easy, and gods forbid he have to notify them of her death. “Wh-what’s wrong?! Has something happened to Ochako?!”

More panic in the background, Midoriya noted. The mother would be his guess. “I’m sorry to inform you, sir, that your daughter was admitted to the hospital only a short time ago in critical condition after an incident during training at her college. She’s currently in surgery, but I would advise you to make your way to the hospital immediately.”

“Wh- no! I just spoke to Ochako a few hours ago. There has to be some kind of mistake.”

“I’m sorry, but there is no mistake, Mr. Uraraka. There is a shuttle awaiting you and your wife at Matsusaka airport. It’ll bring you here.”

…

It wasn’t even an hour before Mr. and Mrs. Uraraka were sprinting into the waiting room of the ER. Not enough time to stop looking like absolute sh*t, but enough time to get some color back into Midoriya’s cheeks. Enough time to get showered and changed into clothes that weren’t covered in their daughter’s blood.

Midoriya found them, after limping into the waiting room with a cane, arguing with the poor nurse at reception regarding their daughter. Midoriya waved to the poor nurse and caught her attention before gesturing to the two in an indication to send them back to him in the conference room.

Midoriya sat down in his chair as he waited for his classmate's parents and winced mildly as he bumped his calf against the table. The adrenaline had worn off in the hour of status reports, and as he had backed down on his augments once he was out of danger, his leg hurt like an absolute bitch. He’d had worse, but that didn’t stop him from wincing.

The low, quiet humming from the president next to him was offset only by the sound of shuffling chairs, indicating the arrival of the two distressed parents. Midoriya opened his eyes and observed the two. They were pale, and upon seeing both the president and himself, seemed to lose another couple shades of color, becoming practically grey.

“I know you now. We looked you up on the way here because the name sounded familiar. You’re the head of Moonlit Industries. Then, of course, President Nedzu is also here. Ochako really was hurt, wasn’t she?” It was the mother that spoke first, soft and shaken. Nedzu nodded slowly, making sure their eyes were on him when he spoke.

“I’m sorry, but yes. One of our new professors allowed a training exercise to go too far, and she was unfortunately caught in the following accident. You have my sincere apologies on behalf of the entire staff and the university, as well as my assurances that steps are being taken to make sure something like this never happens again.”

“How bad?” Mr. Uraraka croaked the words out like he was in a bad dream. “How badly was our daughter hurt?” Both parents looked at Midoriya now. It shouldn’t have surprised him. The white lab coat indicated him as a medical professional here.

Slowly, Midoriya chose his words. “First, I should offer my apologies, as well. Uraraka was my partner during the training exercise, and her injuries are in part my responsibility. If I'd been a bit faster, this never would have happened." Both parents’ eyes widened in surprise at the revelation. The doctor who had called them was evidently their daughter's classmate, as well.

"Unfortunately, I wasn't fast enough. As such, Uraraka was severely injured during the incident. She was then brought in immediately upon retrieval from the collapsed building and went straight into operation. She is no longer in immediate danger, but she will have to be kept in the ICU for the time being while she’s monitored. I expect she’ll wake around tomorrow morning, but until she does, she still isn’t entirely in the clear.”

Mr. Uraraka choked a bit before putting his head in his hands, while his wife grimaced and clenched her fists in her lap. “Wh-what aren't you telling us?” Midoriya grimaced. He respected the woman's backbone, but sometimes information was best given in small doses.

“Are you sure you want the full details and don’t just want to go to her?”

“Tell us.”

…

Everything was dark. Not the kind of dark that came in the dead of night, but the pitch black of the void. The deep darkness of unending endings. In that darkness was simultaneously everything and yet nothing at the same time. Uraraka Ochako found her consciousness in this place. Was she awake? Was she asleep? Was she alive or dead?

Uraraka didn’t know, and that scared her more than anything else. Her body screamed at her in pain, and her lungs shrieked for oxygen as she sobbed in that land of pure nothing. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. She couldn't do anything.

A flash of light, and as quickly as it came, it was gone. Air flooded into her lungs and she gasped on the floor. Tile was the first thing she registered when she gathered her senses back to herself. How long had she been laying there? Was it a minute? An hour? A year? Uraraka couldn’t tell. The second thing she processed was her surroundings. Hospital hallway was her first thought. The fluorescent lights, the clinical tile, the doorways leading to countless patient rooms.

Countless patient rooms? Uraraka took another look, harder this time, and realized the hallway didn’t end. As far as she could see in either direction, door, after door, after door lined the hallway.

Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap. Uraraka stood shakily. Her legs felt like gelatin, and her body revolted at the motion. Her head spun as if she’d stood too quickly, and her stomach heaved as it tried to empty its nonexistent contents.

“Well, well. What do we have here.” Uraraka turned her head and froze. She had looked because her mind had cried out in elation. A person! How long had it been since she had spoken with someone? Or had she just spoken with someone? What had she been doing? Where was she again?

It was only after she looked that she had an inkling of her mistake. Her eyes burnt as she stared at the thing. A masculine figure stood beside her with its head co*cked to the side. A cane shaped like an hourglass in his old hands. Young hands? Uraraka blinked because she couldn’t decide. He wore a business suit, a navy blue on a body entirely too long to be human. His face was covered by a golden mask made to represent a person.

“Uraraka Ochako, I do wonder what you’ll become. What path will you choose? Will you take?”

“Wh-wha.” She tried to choke out words, but her throat was dry, her tongue sandpaper in her mouth. Or was it? Why was she having problems talking? That didn’t seem to be the case at all.

“It really is such a shame. Young Midoriya is so interesting because we can’t see his path. I wonder what caused it? It’s so exciting to have a mystery, wouldn’t you agree?”

Slowly, Uraraka nodded her head. Who was this… person? Thing? The man seemed to shudder in place in ecstasy. When she blinked, the gold mask had shifted into a smile. Uraraka didn’t like that smile. It was too happy. Too unnaturally wide.

“I agree so much. I know just the gift for you, since you like mystery just like me! It's been so long since I’ve had such a conversation. Or has it not been any time? Time! Ah, who cares.” The creature laughed, and Uraraka thought her ears would bleed. The sound of a million shards of glass scraping across her eardrums brought tears to her eyes. “Yes, yes! Tears of joy, I could weep as well. Let’s see your paths, shall we?”

The man grabbed Uraraka’s shoulder, and suddenly, a million images flashed across her eyes. Herself, old and grey in a wheelchair. She rested on a wooden porch, a blanket covering her lap. Uraraka wept now, for her eyes were soulless and dead. Another image came, herself, old once more, but standing strong, eyes full of life. She wore what looked like a hero costume and a proud grin on her face. One of her legs pressed down on the spine of a criminal who struggled to crawl away. Her leg? Something wasn’t quite right…

Another image flashed, faster now, across her eyes. Her classmates spread out in horror, some already dead in a courtyard, surrounded by crisis. All Might being ripped apart by a black bird. Another image, even faster. Midoriya standing atop a mountain of corpses, laughing as he gutted a man wearing hands.

Another image. A child, gutted and strung up by the trees, his eyes crying out for help as a large beast bathed in his blood. Another of a gun barrel shoved into Bakugo’s throat. Another image of a city torn in half, civilians dead and broken across it.

“Chomes, enough!” The hand on her shoulder was ripped away from her, and Uraraka collapsed onto her knees, retching as blood leaked from her eyes and ears. Her breath came in labored gasps, and her vision swam with the appearance of yet another figure. Tall and built like an amazonian, the woman’s eyes were the bright yellow of a cat’s eyes, and her skin was as blue as the deepest oceans. Gold body paint trailed over parts of her visible skin, and what wasn’t revealed was covered by a thin, silk dress. “You know you aren’t welcome in this realm. You are too unstable.”

Chomes let out a low, crazy purr from the back of his throat. “Oh come now, Ova. Midoriya’s are so interesting. I couldn’t let the opportunity pass by to play with her a bit. He never lets his own come here.”

“For good reason, with the likes of you around. We’ll see if you are laughing once I’ve dealt with you. But for now,” Ova kneeled down next to Uraraka and cupped her by the cheek. Her presence was comforting, Uraraka realized. Nothing like the man. He made her feel like she was in too many places at once. The woman felt like a warm embrace. She could just snuggle into her and sleep forever. “Oh no you don’t. I’m sorry, my darling. But right now, you need to wake up.”

…

Midoriya was just outside Uraraka’s room, once again convincing the doctor on shift that he didn’t need to sleep. He’d be more than happy to continue to stand there for another day if he had to. After he had finished speaking with Uraraka’s parents—and hadn’t that been fun, telling them their daughter had flatlined twice during surgery—he had brought them straight to her room. They, much like Midoriya, hadn’t left her side since they got there nine hours earlier.

The girl looked rough, that was putting it lightly. Tubes and wires ran across her, monitoring every little thing that could go wrong, while others did their best to keep her alive. Her parents had wept initially, tear streaks still marred their faces, but now, at least, they were merely silent.

Initially, they had been worried about the costs. Until, of course, Nedzu had told them in that no-nonsense way he had that U.A. would be covering the costs of their daughter’s stay. Even better, they had jumped on Midoriya’s offer of relocating them to one of the low rent buildings around Moonlit Industries. He had been mildly afraid they were going to have a heart attack, though, when Hatsume had come back and offered them a position as the company's main contractors.

Midoriya had thought to bring up the idea of using Uraraka’s family's construction as the main company for their upcoming projects before this point, but it was a relief that they were on the same page. He hadn't needed to speak with Hatsume about the topic. Uraraka had mentioned her family was struggling financially. It was a little thing they could do to help them.

He was still arguing with the doctor when the alarms inside the room went off and sent both of them sprinting inside. Uraraka was awake, it seemed. Her eyes bolted around the room wildly, her heart rate spiked well beyond safe levels, and her fingers scraped against her neck as if she couldn’t breathe.

“Uraraka. Uraraka! Breathe. Hey, yeah, focus on me. Look at me. No, don’t look away. Look me in the eyes. Focus on me and breathe. One. Two. You are fine, you're safe. You are in the hospital.” Slowly, her heart rate came down and the panic leached out of her eyes, only to be replaced with a bone-deep tiredness.

“Mi-Midoriya?” Uraraka croaked out the word as if she weren’t sure of anything anymore. Her eyes darted around the room before falling on her parents who had rushed to her left side. “Mom? Dad?”

Uraraka closed her eyes and took a deep breath, evidently taking stock of everything. The moment Midoriya was dreading occurred not a moment later when her eyes shot back open. Panic once again filled them as her gaze darted from Midoriya, to the doctor checking her vitals, and back to Midoriya again.

“Why can’t I feel my legs?!”

Chapter 31: Chapter #30 | Bound for Ruin

Chapter Text

Midoriya wanted to sigh when he saw the panic. He wanted to sigh when Uraraka’s vitals spiked through the roof, and Midoriya most certainly wanted to sigh when he had to step forward and push the girl back into her bed. She had tried to sit up too quickly and gasped at the pain that lanced through her abdomen.

Gently, Midoriya kept his hand on Uraraka’s shoulder but glanced at her parents briefly before looking her in and eyes and speaking softly. “What is the last thing you remember?”

Uraraka’s brow scrunched in consternation. “What do you mean? I was squaring off against Iida in the training exercise. There was some big blast or something from, I’m assuming, Bakugo that shook the building. Professor Aizawa told us through the comms that the exercise was over and then… then..”

“Yes, well, that is already better than what we could have hoped for.” Midoriya calmly pulled a stool over beside Uraraka’s bedside before retrieving a penlight from a drawer. Sitting down, he began running through some basic tests.

“No, no. I’ve got it. Something happened, right? That’s how I ended up here. What the. What happened.” Uraraka hissed the last part out while shaking her head.

Midoriya did allow himself to sigh now. “What happened was All Might f*cked up.” Midoriya winced before turning to both of the girl's parents who had moved themselves to the other side of the bed. “Pardon my french.”

Mrs. Ochako shook her head as if dismissing it while her husband's lips pulled back into a snarl. “He did f*ck up.”

Uraraka’s head whipped around to her parents before it seemed the momentary distraction of her legs seemed to pass. The panic returned once more and she turned to Midoriya slowly, a look of dawning horror overtaking her features. Her throat was dry when she croaked out her question again. “W-What happened?”

Midoriya merely stared blankly at her. Where to even begin? She didn’t need to know about Katsuki. No one needed to know about that other than the president when they were dealing with him after All Might. The disappointment of a man would undoubtedly try to put all of the blame on himself. Quick and clean, Midoriya decided. It was easier that way.

“After Aizawa ordered us out of the building, it collapsed. You were severely injured during the collapse and were only extricated some eight minutes after the collapse. At which point, you were rushed here and underwent extensive surgical intervention in order to stabilize you. During which,” Midoriya winced and sighed again, because there was no good way to put this. “During which, the surgeons on staff were unfortunately unable to repair all of the damage.”

The further Midoriya got into relaying the information, the less blood Uraraka was capable of keeping in her face. Her parents grimaced and held her hand. She couldn’t help but hold onto them back, an anchor in her personal storm. “What are you saying, Midoriya?”

Midoriya closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself. To brace himself for what would come. “The compressive force during the collapse and the time it took to extricate you caused direct tissue damage while occluding venous outflow. With prolonged compression, the resultant cellular death le-”

“Midoriya, what are you SAYING?” Uraraka’s parents jerked at the sudden outburst, and even the girl herself seemed shocked by it. She tried to stutter out an apology when Midoriya simply shook his head and waved it off. He’d been on the receiving end of far worse from trauma victims.

“While the medical staff here are some of the best in the country, of that I’ve made sure of, they were unable to repair much of the damage to your spine. Besides that, they also had to amputate your legs, and you flatlined twice. To be entirely honest, even the fact that you're awake already is a miracle of quirks and technology.”

There it was. The air had stilled, and Uraraka’s breath hitched in her throat. She’d practically stopped breathing. Her wide brown eyes widened even further, practically leaving them the size of dinner plates. The look on her face would have been comical were it not for the situation and the heart-wrenching sorrow and horror displayed there. “No. No no no n-”

The words turned into choked sobs as she clawed the light blanket off of her, as she saw her legs missing. Her right, from the knee down, and the left from further up her thigh. It’s her parent's turn now. I can come back later. Silently, Midoriya signaled the doctor still standing by in the room out with him.

It wasn’t until Midoriya got back to his office that he allowed the mask he’d carefully constructed to slip. It wasn’t until then that he allowed himself to remember how much he hated dealing with collapse patients.

...

Nedzu found him sitting in his desk chair shortly after Midoriya had returned. Midoriya simply stared, frustrated, at his own hands while the president explained that they were needed back at the university. When Midoriya protested that he needed to be at the hospital in case something happened, Nedzu calmly explained that the doctors on staff were more than capable of handling anything that would arise at this stage.

“Besides that, Midoriya, the board needs your testimony on what happened. We’ll be handling All Might and Bakugo later today.”

“What do you mean we?” Midoriya's voice was tense, strained.

“I mean, you’ll be present for the meeting. I’d rather you not bug my office again. I only just got rid of the last of them.” Nedzu said that as if he didn’t figure there were at least another three he had yet to manage to discover.

“Gods damn it. Fine. f*ck. Fine.” Midoriya clenched his fists along with his eyes, drawing a deep, steadying breath before he stood and stepped out of the room with the president. If Nedzu noticed the new hole in the wall, well, he couldn’t blame his student for being a bit frustrated.

…

“I should go back in there and skin every one of them.” Midoriya seethed. “First they dismiss the incident as ‘just another training accident,’ and then they dare try to foist the blame onto me just because I’m quirkless.”

“Self-proclaimed, but yes, that is how things went.” Nedzu responded with both platitudes and a carefully straight face. If he were honest with himself, he was just as angry as Midoriya. The board had tried to stonewall him at every turn.

All he had wanted was for their critically injured student to not have to worry about her hospital bills or the undoubted weeks of rehabilitation that would follow, should she choose to stay in the heroics course. He had gotten it in the end. The chimera knew how to get what he wanted from those idiots on the board, but it angered him to no end that they had tried to stop him from helping his own students.

“I could kill them all. I could make it look like a bloody accident. But no, you're here, and you would be the first person the police would talk to. That would lead to me.” Midoriya’s muttering was venomous as he glared down the, luckily, empty hallway.

“Midoriya, your muttering is turning dangerous, don’t you think?” Midoriya looked sideways at the chimera sitting on his shoulder before huffing and gesturing wildly around the air.

“It's cathartic. Just because I can doesn’t mean I wi-” As the two stepped into the teacher's lounge, Midoriya’s eyes zeroed onto one person in specific, sitting on the couch, sipping tea as if nothing had happened. A low rumble began in the back of Midoriya’s throat that he quickly cut off when he noticed both Aizawa and Snipe sliding into defensive postures in different corners of the room.

“Ah, that is my cue, I do believe. I need to put together the paperwork for later.” The emphasis on the word from Nedzu did very little to assuage the tense atmosphere coming from Midoriya. “I do expect you will all behave while I'm gone?”

It wasn’t a statement, and Midoriya knew it. It was a question mostly directed at himself, not that he could blame the rodent, considering he'd snarled at the man upon sighting him. “As long as All Might behaves himself, then I won’t do a thing.” It was a terse answer but one that he would have to accept. One that left Nedzu praying that the buffoon didn’t do anything. Hopefully, his faculty could stop anything before it got out of hand.

“And you Toshinori?”

The big man jolted, china rattling in his hands, as he was addressed by the president. “Uh, of course.” Nedzu’s eyes narrowed on him. It was a nonanswer, and a nervous one at that, but it would have to do. Work was piling up, and if the look he was getting from Aizawa was any indication, then he couldn’t put it off much longer.

…

The atmosphere was tense. That was the best word for the awkward situation the staff found themselves in. Initially, it had seemed to Toshinori that his student wouldn’t make this harder. He was overjoyed when the boy sat down across from him and poured himself some of the tea. That joy dissipated quickly when the boy didn’t say a word and merely stared at him as if he were a living piece of garbage.

Toshinori coughed. He was the number one hero, he could do this. “Young Midoriya, I need to apologize to you.”

“Oh?” The single word had Aizawa reaching for his capture scarf. It was low, cold, and contained a hatred that chilled the professors to their bones. Snipe would have reached for his sidearm, were he still in the room. He’d had a class to see to, and while Kayama had come in after him, he couldn’t help but wish for the deterrent of a firearm right now.

Another cough, nervous now. “Uh, yes. I need to apologize to you for putting you into a match against young Bakugo. I hadn’t realized things were quite so bad between the two of you. I shouldn’t have allowed that match to continue when I heard the personal nature of his grudge. I am thoroughly impressed by you, though. To be able to keep a level head through it all and perform rescue operations like that! Even going as far as to rescue your attacker, despite what you must have been feeling.” Midoriya’s eye twitched involuntarily at that. “I must ask, where ever did you learn to do all of that?”

The room was silent for a very long moment. Aizawa watched his student as he seemed to weigh his next words carefully, weighing whether he could twist anything that was said as Toshinori not behaving. The large man couldn’t help but gulp as Midoriya stared him down with a look that could flay the skin off of anyone else.

“Military. Is that all you have to say, All Might?” Aizawa’s eyes widened. Even that one word was more information than he’d been able to pry out of the boy after a year of working with him. Military? Was he with the military? The latest in the Urban Wars had ended barely thirty-five years prior. Had he been taught by a veteran of them? Kayama couldn’t help but choke on her drink and snap around to look at Midoriya.

“Uh, yes?”

Midoriya smiled now, hard and dangerous, his eye still twitching. “Then I believe it is my turn to speak, no? First, the one you should be apologizing to is not me but your student, Uraraka Ochako, who was critically injured.” Midoriya’s words became harsh as he spit out the girl's name at the number one. “You can do whatever you’d like to me, you oaf, but you played a major part in crippling a young girl who wanted nothing more than to use her quirk to help people.”

All Might ducked his head now at the accusation. He had been planning on visiting the girl at the hospital to see how his student was doing, but he hadn’t realized it was that bad. Crippled? Had things really gone that wrong?

“But you know what? Let’s put that aside for a moment, shall we? Because you are a walking disaster of a teacher. I told you before that match ever began that it shouldn’t happen. You ignored me. You allowed a first-year student to strap gods damned bombs to his wrists. You continued a match when it was clearly evident that your student was aggressive beyond the acceptable level. You continued the gods damned match when the aforementioned student threatened to kill his opponent. You have utterly failed even resembling a teacher.”

Kayama sat wide-eyed at the breakdown of what had happened. Sure, she had heard there was an accident during training, but she couldn’t have imagined something like this. Even Aizawa couldn’t help but grimace at the kids' evaluation. He felt the same way. Midoriya turned his head now, coughing into his shoulder. Confused, he pressed a hand against his chest before continuing.

“For that matter, All Might, you aren’t even a teacher! You’re a hero that has taken the role of a teacher without ever learning how to properly fill the role. You don’t have your teacher's license, you don’t have a temp certification, and you don’t even have field experience because the only damn sidekick or intern you’ve taken on is Nighteye, who has since turned into a hardened disaster since you ejected him from your life.”

Midoriya was getting worked up now and seemed to be coughing along with the increase in agitation. Aizawa couldn’t help but narrow his eyes in concern. Had the kid been injured worse than he let on? “Now, young Midoriya, that’s hardly fair. Sir Nighteye is a fantastic hero. He’s done just fine without me, and the reason we parted had nothing to do with his abilities as a hero.”

“All Might, I don’t have the time to even begin to cover the problems Nighteye and I have had since our first meeting, which also wasn’t a pleasant one.” Cough. “All Might the Pillar of Society. All Might the Protector of Humanity. All Might the Gods Damned Hero of Mankind.”

“I don’t think that those titles are very healthy for-”

“f*cking,” cough, “exactly, All Might. You practically obsess over me for weeks. You try to push me into something,” cough, “because I’m quirkless. Because you're so caught up in your own damn story. You're right, All Might. It isn’t healthy, but that is exactly what you’ve created. We are the shepherds of our own consequences and,” cough, “look at your damn consequences now.”

Midoriya’s eyes suddenly widened as he grabbed his chest and fell to the floor. Pain lanced through his entire body, his vision swimming. He coughed now, and when he did, it splattered blood across the floor of the lounge. The professors were on their feet he realized. Someone was yelling something. Then suddenly, his muscles locked down on him and his vision went black.

…

What on earth was happening? Where was he? The world around him seemed to pitch and shift as his chest burned. His veins burned. His muscles burned. Everything felt like it was on fire as he desperately tried to connect to his augments.

The world snapped into place, and he almost couldn’t believe his eyes. Scratch that, he most certainly couldn’t believe his eyes. What the fresh hell was going on? In front of Midoriya stood the tunnels of Installation Elysium, as pristine as they had been before he’d detonated the base's reactors. He couldn’t ever mistake the hallways for anywhere else. He had walked them day in and day out with his comrades. The facility had been abandoned after the Armont Crisis had come to an end, according to its records, and had served as his home for years.

One of the doors joining the hallway to its facilities blew outwards off its hinges. Midoriya sprinted for one of the armory cabinets nearby on instinct, grabbing the rifle and its ammunition, before turning and sprinting back, despite his body screaming at him in protest. He’d just racked the weapon when an odd collection of people stumbled from the room.

“What the f*ck, Shigaraki? I thought we were passing on to the successor. Why is everything here trying to kill us?”

“For that matter, who the f*ck are we passing onto that they would come up with a military base in their mind?!”

“Shut up, you two. We need to get out of here. It’s not binding properly. Anymore of this and we’re going to ki-”

“Stop right there! Who are you people?” The group froze before slowly turning to the very tall kid holding a very large gun. One of the men, this one with dark hair and wearing a high collared jacket, tried stepping forward towards Midoriya when a loud roar ripped through the tunnel and a twenty-five millimeter round tore the man's leg off.

The man screamed. Midoriya winced. f*cking hell, I need my armor to fire this thing. His shoulder was once again dislocated, and with the fire seemingly flowing through his veins, it was feeling like he’d just shoved a hot skewer through it. “Woah there!” Midoriya’s eyes snapped to the woman who spoke, and his eyes widened.

“Son of a bitch. You, I recognize.” A beautiful fair-skinned woman with a mole under the right side of her lip. Jet black, shoulder-length hair rested atop her head, pulled back into a neat bun. “Shimura Nana. A hero during the Japanese Urbans, killed by-”

The woman watched the kid’s eyes widen as he recited her information and then came to a realization, snarling, “All for One. That means.” The pieces clicked together one after another. The man had said Shigaraki, not All for One, so the first of the other half. One for All. Shimura Nana was a One for All successor. “Oh, I’m going to kill him. That motherf*cker dosed me.”

Chapter 32: Chapter #31 | Shard of Menace

Chapter Text

The moment that Midoriya hit the ground, both Aizawa and Kayama were pushing out of their seats. Aizawa got to him first and, as such, was the first to notice the blood that had been spewed across the floor of the lounge. He was also the first to see it begin leaking down his face from his eyes and mouth, the first to see it drip onto the floor in a growing pool underneath him.

Kayama gasped when she saw the boy dripping blood like a corpse from a bad horror film. “What the f*ck happened?!”

“If I had to guess, Midoriya had some kind of injury from yesterday that went undiagnosed and was then aggravated during his conversation with All Might here. Damn it, I knew this was a bad idea.” Aizawa tried to shift the boy, but not only was Midoriya entirely rigid, to his horror, but he also found he could barely even shift Midoriya’s weight.

Tsk. “All Might, we’re going to have to have yo-” Aizawa turned and found the target of his eternal ire both deathly pale and staring at Midoriya in abject horror. All Might was a veteran hero, one that had seen countless hardships since he debuted at twenty-two. Twenty-seven years of hero work and the only time I’ve seen that look on his face is when. Oh god. “What the hell have you done now, All Might?”

The question snapped the large man out of his stupor long enough to stutter out a response that was possibly the worst lie he’d ever heard. “I- I didn’t do anything, Aizawa.” Yagi sweated profusely as he verbally backpedaled away from the conversation. He glanced nervously to where Kayama was checking on Midoriya. “It’s as you said, he must still be injured!”

“Nemi, go get Shuzenji. We'll keep an eye on him.”

“Got it.” Kayama bolted from the room like a bat out of hell while Aizawa spun on All Might again.

“One more time, All Might. What the hell have you done now.”

“I have the same question, Yagi. I do believe I told you to behave.” Both professors jerked their heads toward the ceiling where Nedzu was crawling out of a tile. At the expression on both of their faces, he just shrugged. “I was watching from my office and it was faster. Now answer the question. What happened?”

Yagi cleared his throat, stuttering out a few non-starters before simply swallowing. “I uh, I passed my quirk onto him?”

“You WHAT.” Yagi flinched back at the sheer incredulous fury in his fellow professor's tone. Aizawa cleared the distance between them in two angry steps before getting into his face. “Are you telling me that you gave your quirk to someone that has rejected it multiple times? That you gave it to someone who we have classed as a highly dangerous unknown variable?! Are you fu-”

“Shota.” The single seething word had Aizawa’s jaw clicking shut. Both men looked over to the chimera. Instead of finding hot anger like Aizawa’s, they found the chimera glaring at the two of them with frigid ice figuratively clinging to his ruffled fur.

Nedzu very carefully picked the teapot up off the table before sniffing it and crinkling his nose. “I see. I see. A genetic vector, certainly that does explain a few things. Tell me, Yagi. Are you aware of just how badly you’ve screwed up here?”

“Clearly Midoriya is reacting badly to the quirk, but that doesn-”

“Oh, Midoriya’s reaction to the quirk is the least of my concerns.” Yagi felt his skin prickle as he stiffened under the president's glacial gaze, while Aizawa stiffened at the admittance. “Nothing about that boy is normal, as I’m certain you're both well aware. He’ll make it out of this somehow or another. No, my concern here is that you have just introduced yet another variable into an already volatile situation.”

“With all due respect, sir, my quirk is a gift that neither you nor Aizawa gets an-” The teapot slammed into the wall as Nedzu’s temper flashed from ice to fire.

“Months! Months of god damned work getting Midoriya to trust me. Just so I can get him on OUR side before he can become a problem for us, and for WHAT?! You to come in and f*ck up so royally that it’ll take months more just to repair the damage you’ve done. All you had to do was nothing.” Nedzu hissed the words. “What. What, is so hard about doing nothing.”

Yagi’s eyes widened as he witnessed Nedzu’s temper spike, canines on full display, fur standing on end, and ears laid back flat against his head as his tail twitched from side to side. Aizawa’s eyes widened, as well, for very different reasons. “I’ve been working with him for months. Why didn't I know anything about this?”

“Because you aren’t ready for this side of things, Aizawa. You care too much for your students to do this. As it is, you haven’t reported even half of what you know now after working with Midoriya, I’m sure.” Nedzu’s eyes snapped to the doorway before he hissed under his breath and collected himself again. “Enough of this. We’ll speak on this later when we don’t have company.”

Nedzu stepped towards Midoriya just in time for the door to slam open and the school nurse to come rushing in alongside both Kayama and… Nedzu’s brows winged up. “Miss Hatsume, I must admit, I wasn’t expecting you to come along with Shuzenji.”

“I was alerted the moment his vitals spiked. What on earth is going on, Nedzu?” Shuzenji wasted no time in crossing the room to her patient and beginning her examination. Mere moments after the exam began, though, Midoriya’s muscles suddenly convulsed before he began to suck in air like a fish out of water.

“Shuzenji, what’s going on?" Both Aizawa and Kayama stepped forward, concerned, when Hatsume stiffly pulled them both back suddenly. A question rested on both their lips when they watched the old nurse stumble back and the president’s fur fluff up again. It was then that they heard the snarl.

…

“... That motherf*cker dosed me.”

The seven individuals across from Midoriya froze. They’d all followed the kid’s muttering well enough that they were able to guess at who it was and what it was the kid had been dosed with.

“I take it that means you all are the previous users of One for All?” Midoriya glared the individuals down from beyond the sights of his rifle. A tall, slender man stepped forward next, his hands raised in a universal symbol of placation. The one they had called Shigaraki, Midoriya realized.

“We are, if you wouldn’t mind answering a questi-”

“No. You're killing me. Get out of my body.”

“Get out of your body? So he-” Shigaraki was cut off, but the tension and fury radiating off him spoke of what he thought of One for All being forced on anyone.

“Just go, Shigaraki. I’ll explain things, and it would seem that Toshi’s gone and messed up. This is my problem.” Shigaraki clenched his jaw before glancing back at the other members, one already injured.

Midoriya watched as his lips peeled back in a silent snarl. He could at least empathize with the man. No one wanted to make the decision to leave someone behind, even if Midoriya would be sending her along quickly after them.

Midoriya continued to watch the individuals as they made their way down the corridor before they turned and dipped into a side path. The change was immediate for Midoriya. Where his body had felt like it had an anchor on top of his chest before, it was practically as light as a feather now. His body still felt like it had been run through a meat grinder, but it no longer felt like Dabi was attempting to cremate him at the same time.

Slowly, he breathed in before lowering the rifle to point at the ground. “As I was saying, I recognize you. Shimura Nana, born 2245, became a hero at seventeen before fighting for the next fourteen years to save lives during the Urban Wars in Japan, while even lending aid to the Reunited States during theirs. Officially, you died 2280, weeding out the last of the malcontents at the behest of the government. I suppose we both know better, though.”

Shimura’s face hardened as Midoriya recited her information, bringing memories with it to the surface, before softening with a sigh. “I take it that Toshi told you about me?”

“I would sooner gouge out my own eardrums than listen to anything that man has to say.”
Shimura stiffened at the malice in Midoriya’s tone.

“What exactly has he done to earn such hatred from someone as young as you? Surely that’s a tad extreme.”

“I wish it was.” It became evident after several moments that Midoriya wasn’t going to continue nor explain, so, sighing again, Shimura decided to get into her explanation.

“Considering what’s happened, I suppose I should explain. One for All is unable to bind correctly to you. Sorry, but we’ve never had this problem before. Don't worry, though, we'll go back to Toshi. ” Midoriya simply stayed quiet.

“Look kid, did Toshi ask if you wanted the quirk? Did something happen that forced him to give it to you without telling you? You didn't seem very pleased to get it.”

Finally, she elicited a response from the boy, though it wasn’t one she was hoping for. It was a snarl and anger. “Did he ask? Oh, he asked. And then asked some more. Then when I wouldn’t accept it, he stuck me in a situation to try to make me take it and crippled a girl in the process. Now, your damn successor seems to have decided to cram it down my throat instead.”

Shimura’s eyes widened in horror. “He crammed his hair down your throat?!” Midoriya just stared at her, deadpan, before sweating slightly.

“No. Why would he… hair. DNA? It’s a biological trigger? Son of a bitch, are you telling me that I let him dose me with something biological?” Midoriya’s mind ran through a series of possibilities. When? How? He wanted to gag once he realized it was the tea. He wanted to gag harder when his brain supplied the list of bodily fluids that could have been in it. “Gods I hope that was bloo-”

Again, Midoriya choked as he was forced to one knee. What the hell?! Aren’t they gone, why is this happening now? Midoriya looked up to find Shimura in a similar state. Her screams echoed down the halls as she clawed at her skin. Midoriya had one thought as he blacked out. This can’t be good.

…

Midoriya’s eyes snapped open, and the first thing he noticed was his body screaming at him for oxygen. The second thing he noticed as his body greedily sucked in air was the cool linoleum on his face. That feels so good. The third thing he noticed was the people talking around him. The scents of the room hit him, blood, panic, fear, tea. Tea. All Might.

Midoriya couldn’t help the fury that rose up in him or the growl that ripped its way out of his throat. Nor, at that moment, did he particularly care. When he pushed up from his lying position, he found himself covered in the blood that had been pooling underneath him, but once again, he didn’t care. The only thing on his mind at that second was finding the one who had done this. Where is he?

Slowly, Midoriya looked across the room. Shuzenji, Mei, Aizawa, Kayama, Nedzu. Ah. Midoriya’s lips curled slowly into a wide, psychotic grin, blood dripping off of his too sharp canines while the slitted pools of viridian fire pinned All Might in place. Enemy. Danger. Threat. “Found you.” Midoriya’s tone was practically singsong before the boy on the ground blurred in front of all their eyes.

Nedzu sucked in a breath as he felt wind against his fur, and all of them stumbled when the building shook. Distantly, Nedzu heard the klaxons signaling an attack. Something he’d have to deal with. Every instinct in his animal body told him to run. Screamed at him to escape, because currently, a very large, very dangerous predator was on the hunt. Slowly, as he turned, he found a scene straight out of a child's nightmare.

All Might, buffed up, was being held against a sizable crater in their lounge wall. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and fear rested in his eyes. His hands clawed at Midoriya’s left arm, holding him against that wall by his throat while his right dug into All Might’s left side. All Might dug at Midoriya's left hand. To everyone's dismay, Midoriya didn’t let go, even when the skin began to peel off. Instead, his smile morphed into manic glee.

“You feel that, All Might? The struggle to breathe? Your lungs crying out for air? The panic? Twenty percent of the air we breathe goes to our brains.”

Aizawa’s capture weapon whipped out and wrapped around the boy, only for it to do nothing. No matter how much Aizawa pulled and twisted, the boy didn’t budge, his expression only becoming more feral as All Might began to coil in his grasp, desperately trying to get air.

“Young Midoriya. Please. I don’t want to. To Hurt you.”

“Hurt me, All Might?” Midoriya laughed and gripped a little harder, restricting a little more air from the large man's lungs. “Don’t worry about that, All Might! It’s too late for that. Now I’m going to make you suffer for it. I don’t care if your existence is preventing crime anymore. If it’s preventing us from slipping into the Urbans again.”

“Midoriya, enough of this!” Nedzu called out to him, grabbing at his shirt to pull him back only to realize how damn heavy Midoriya was. Mei’s voice was calm, scarily so in this situation.

“Izuku, I don’t know what he’s done, but we both agreed he isn’t worth it. Release him please.”

“Oh, he’s worth it now. So worth it. But it won’t be quick, no no no. That would be too good for a f*ck up like you. Fire and brimstone are what you’ve brought down on yourself, Yagi Toshinori. I will take everything from you, and then I’ll tear your flesh from its bon-”

The explosion of noise caught almost everyone off guard. Midoriya flew across the lounge before skipping off the desks and slamming into one of the walls and slumping against it, head lolling. All of the heads in the room turned to Hatsume as All Might gasped and choked on air sucked in too quickly.

With a smile, Hatsume stood twirling a long collapsible baton that was arcing electricity to the ground beneath it. Shuzenji rushed to Toshinori, doing her best to examine his injuries, before tutting and kissing him on the forehead. The man promptly deflated, clutching at his side as he stared at Midoriya's unconscious form. Something Shuzenji wasted no time grumbling about. “I swear to god, I’m going to beat both of these boys after they explain to me what the hell is going on.”

Nervously, Nedzu eyed the baton. “Miss Hatsume, I must ask. What exactly is that. Baton?”

“Hmm?” Hatsume looked away from the unconscious Midoriya to the president before smiling. “Oh, this? This is my beating stick.” Everyone still conscious sweatdropped at the easy way the inventor responded. “I’m just glad I upped the voltage recently. Speaking of, I doubt that’ll keep Izu down long. I'd get him out of here before he wakes up. Doubt that’ll work a second time.”

…

By the time that Nedzu had returned to the lounge, Midoriya was gone. He had only left for a few minutes to rescind the alert and verify that Yagi had gotten back to the infirmary before returning for the boy. Damn idiot. How the hell is Midoriya even moving after that?

It only took a quick search of the security feed to find that Midoriya had gone towards Snipes' class with Hatsume in tow. After a quick jog through the ceiling tubes, he arrived at the class to find… Where is the class?

Nedzu dropped out of his perch and looked around quickly, finding Snipe, mask off and face down on his desk. On his right, his revolver loaded and on his desk, and to his left, a half empty bottle of whiskey. Before Nedzu could even speak, the hero groaned.

“What the fresh ‘ell did that moron do now?”

“Where is Midoriya? Your class?”

“Ah’ sent them out when I saw the look on that boy’s face. He came in, Hatsume trailin’ behind, with a look that all but promised murder. Thank the almighty ah’ did too because then they both disappear into the simulation to take part in what ah’ can only describe to you as a goddamn mess. What the ‘ell did All Might do now?”

“How do you know All Might did anything?” In response, Snipe merely picked his head up off his desk, grabbed the bottle of whiskey and a chug out of it, and walked over to the display that showed the simulation before turning it on.

“Oh. Oh, dear.” On-screen, Midoriya was beating a man to death with what appeared to be his friend's arm. Around them, bodies littered the cityscape. Some were clean kills with their necks snapped, others not so much. Bodies smeared up walls, others hanging from street lamps by their own organs. A few, by the looks of it, had their throats torn out. But most concerning was that each and every one of them had All Might's face. Silently, Nedzu reached out, taking the bottle from Snipe before taking a drink himself.

…

Midoriya growled as he put his fist through another of the fake All Mights’ skulls before snarling and sitting down. For a long moment, he just stared at the fake blood covering him and mixing with the real. If he were honest, he was just as angry with himself as he was with All Might. He'd let his guard down and hadn't been paying attention. What the hell does it say about me that this kind of scene is normal? What kind of f*cked up monster am I now that this is cathartic? How the hell am I supposed to save people when I'm like this?

Mei had long since taken a seat against one of the buildings to listen as he explained what had happened. As he had gone on, her hands had twitched on the long rifle she’d brought into the simulation.

“I take it back. I should have let you kill him. We can still do it. Let's go out there and kill him.”

“Oh, I wish I could. Trust me, I do, but you were right on that. I can’t kill him. He needs to pay for trying to drag me into his damn feud. The public needs to be disillusioned. Everything he stands for needs to be torn down with him alive to watch.”

“Or we could just kill him.”

“No, Mei. As much as I want to at the moment, this is going to need to be delicate. Not the brute force method my instincts are," Kill him. Maim him. Rip him to pieces. Enemy. Threat. End him. "requesting. No matter how momentarily satisfying that would be, like it or not, our number one hero is like Endeavour. A flaming piece of garbage, but unfortunately one that's protecting people. I may hate All Might, but my goal is to protect people. Right now, much like his rival, he's doing more good than bad.”

"That doesn't make what he's done any less wrong, Izuku. He needs to pay for what he's done."

"He will. But until I can protect everyone, he's an unfortunate necessity in keeping the peace."

"I’m not making him anything but babies that self-destruct.”

Midoriya couldn’t help but laugh, a tension that he’d been carrying for the last hour leaching away a little. “And I’m going to make his life a living hell from now on. Never change, Mei. Never change.” A little calmer now, Midoriya looked around, appreciating the amount of carnage in the simulated city. “Besides, for now, we can do this num-”

Midoriya’s eyes zeroed in on one very pale, very horrified, and very familiar-looking woman, standing now in front of the pile of bodies that Midoriya was sitting on. The woman was the same one he’d been talking to before collapsing a second time. “Mei, please tell me you can see her.”

Midoriya pointed at Shimura Nana, who had snapped her head around to look at Midoriya. Hatsume looked from the empty road and its simulated corpses back to Midoriya, concerned. “See who, Izuku?”

“Well, f*ck.”

Chapter 33: Chapter #32 | Tried For Error

Chapter Text

Bakugo Katsuki didn’t like what he was feeling. Annoyance was a constant for him, and anger was always quick to come even when it wasn’t warranted. He wasn’t stupid, he knew he had a tendency to overreact. He didn’t regret trying to get rid of Deku. Quirkless bastard didn’t belong in a hero school. No, that’s not right. That’s not Deku. Deku would never, could never… f*ck.

Bakugo couldn’t help but stare down at his own bloody hands as images ghosted through his vision. The blast ripping from his gauntlets, the building snapping under the strain of having its supports blown away. Deku practically running from the ruins of the training, covered in blood and doing everything he could to keep their classmate alive. Their classmate. She’d been hurt because of him. She had been hurt because of hi-

“...ugo. Bakugo Katsuki.” Bakugo’s head snapped up from his hands as he sucked in a breath with an angry hiss. He was met with concerned expressions from both of his parents, and didn’t that burn his ass that they’d been called in for their college student of a son, but the cold, analytical gaze of the damn rat that’d had him on house arrest since the inci- accident the previous day. Bakugo gave his hands another glance to find them clean. What the f*ck.

“Do try to listen when something pertains to you, young man. As I was saying, part of the blame lies on us as faculty. All Might should have never approved the support gear that he approved. Something like that shouldn’t have been given to him until at the very least his third year.” The stern voice of the president cut through Bakugo’s own thoughts long enough to get the young man to focus on him.

“Then this accident can be resolved with that, right? A terrible accident that will not happen again.” Mitsuki sounded hopeful, but when one looked into her eyes, they would be able to tell it was a brittle facade. Fear and desperation rested there, even if otherwise she exuded finality.

“If only it were so simple, Mrs. Bakugo.” The mask dropped away and the fear underneath was laid bare. “All Might is currently part of our faculty, so for that we will bear the responsibility of his mistake. This could have ended there, if this accident had ended with minor injuries. We likely could have ended this there even if the building collapse had been the worst of it. But unfortunately, this accident can’t conclude so cleanly.”

“What are you saying, you damn rat. Just say it plainly.” The words had barely left Bakugo’s mouth when Nedzu’s gaze turned on him, cold instead of stern. A strong hand clamped down on his shoulder, and he didn’t need to look over to know what his father was trying to tell him. He might be a quiet man, but he could still get his point across.

“Fine then, Mr. Bakugo. Let’s put it plainly, as you so desire. You violated the rules of your exercise. You broke out of your restraints and attempted to, in your own words, no less, use lethal force against your classmate during a training exercise. Your actions, while having failed to have their desired effect, did accomplish in collapsing the building onto all of you. During this collapse, one of your classmates, Iida Tenya, was lucky enough to have gotten away with shrapnel in his chest and leg, several broken ribs, and an utterly destroyed costume. I say lucky because the other student caught in the collapse just spent the night in the OR with her parents praying for her survival. That is on your head, Bakugo.” The hand clenched around his shoulder tightened, and his mother practically choked on the air.

“Dear god, Katsuki. What the hell have you done now? All of that therapy after Aldera was to avoid something like this happening. Did you learn nothing after that fiasco?” Katsuki grit his teeth at the memories of his high school years. The police had come in and practically dismantled Aldera after Deku left. Anonymous source my ass. He’d spent years being watched like a damn hawk just for being associated with the closed middle school, and his mother had practically mandated therapy, not that any of the damn shrinks had had anything of worth to say.

“I’m afraid you can’t help someone that doesn’t want it. Again, since you want it plainly, Bakugo, I’m going to lay out what’s going to happen. You are going to be removed from the hero program-”

“Like hell I am!” Sparks crackled to life in his palms before they were quickly snuffed out by the crimson glare of his homeroom teacher. Aizawa had been scowling from the beginning, but as far as Katsuki was concerned, when wasn’t the hobo?

“Be quiet, young man.” The hand on his shoulder tightened down now as his father rumbled. A warning to stay quiet.

“You will be removed from the hero program and placed in general education. For some reason, the school board still seems to think you have potential, so you will be allowed back into the program should you make an impression at the sports festival.”

“What’s the catch?” All eyes turned now to Mitsuki who had narrowed her gaze. “Sorry, but you don’t seem to want him back in the hero course, so what’s the catch?”

“Quite right, Mrs. Bakugo. He assaulted a fellow student. One of my students. The catch, as you put it, is this.” With one of his claws, Nedzu tapped on the folder in front of him before sliding it across the desk. “This is a detailed account of this incident with all of the needed evidence to prosecute Bakugo as an adult in both the attempted homicide of his classmate, as well as the maiming of another. This record has been passed onto the attorney’s office and sealed with the following conditions. First of all, Bakugo will be, from this point on, in mandated sessions with our school’s psychologist, Hound Dog.” Nedzu turned to Katsuki from his mother and looked him in the eyes, doing his best to get this next part across to him.

“It doesn’t matter if you want it or not anymore, Bakugo. This is your last chance. If he doesn’t believe you have made progress before the end of the sports festival, then regardless of whether or not you make a good showing, you’ll be left in general education. Secondly, and this is the most important part of this, if you slip up again, young man, in any way, this file will be unsealed and you will be arrested. You mess up and beat up one of your classmates? Unsealed. Twenty years down the line, if you have your hero license and you mess up? Unsealed and arrested. This will follow you for the rest of your life, and you will never get out from under it.”

“And if we don’t agree to these conditions?” Katsuki’s head snapped to the side to look at his mother. The blood had drained from her face, and hell, why wouldn’t it? Her only son was facing criminal charges that would have him branded as a villain for the rest of his life.

“Oh, you’re welcome to walk away right now. We’ll sweep this under the rug and Katsuki can live out the rest of his life in peace. Of course, if you do, then I will have your son blacklisted. He will never find a position in any self-respecting college again.”

“You son of a bitch.”

Nedzu turned back to Bakugo and found him clenching both his teeth and his fists. “This is ultimately your decision, young man, so I’d think long and hard about it. You have until Monday to decide. If you show up at the school gates, then we’ll consider the choice made and you’ll be given your new class schedule. Now go vacate your dorm. You're dismissed.”

Silently, Bakugo gritted his teeth, stood up, and left the president’s office with his parents.

…

"You don't plan on letting him go, do you?"

"Not at all, Aizawa."

"And if he does choose to walk away? It wouldn't be the first time someone chose to simply walk away from it all."

Nedzu stared at Aizawa for a long moment, remembering the incident in the break room as well as the teacher's comments. I suppose it's about time then. "Then I would make him and his family disappear just like anyone that crosses this academy."

Aizawa gritted his teeth at the response. Not what he had wanted to hear. Just how much was Nedzu doing behind the scenes that he was unaware of? "Why not just get rid of him? Is he worth this trouble?"

"My dear Aizawa, I want him for the same reason anyone wants a bomb. They make excellent weapons."

...

It only took Midoriya three steps out of the simulation chamber for him to notice the professor with his face down on the desk. He also couldn’t help but notice the very empty bottle of alcohol next to the professor.

“Get out.”

“Good to see you as well, Snipe.”

“Nedzu told me to, an’ I quote, ‘send the homicidal timebomb to the dorms to get cleaned up before he comes in for the disaster's consequences.’ So out, Midoriya. My head is poundin’.

Midoriya chuckled before giving a mock salute and exiting the room with Hatsume and a shell-shocked Shimura behind him. Finally, she croaked out words while they walked. “He knew. He saw what you did and didn’t say anything about it.”

Progress, Midoriya supposed. When he had tried to talk to her in the simulation, she’d simply stared at him without responding. “It’s rather complicated, Mrs. Shimura.”

Hatsume stopped and turned a critical eye on him. Even if he’d explained to her that he now had a discount force ghost living in his head, the scene was still off-putting. She’d have him back in their lab for a full battery of tests that night even if she had to knock him out to do it.

Shimura shook her head before half yelling at Midoriya. “Navigating gang relations is complicated. High-level theoretical math is complicated. Spending the last couple of decades in what is practically quirk limbo is complicated. You killing a dozen clones of Toshi is not complicated. That is abjectly wrong. It’s evil. It’s villainous!”

Midoriya froze on the last word. His eyes and tone chilled, and he couldn’t help the derision that found its way into his tone. “Oh? Were things truly so black and white back in the Urban Wars that you can abide by that worldview? If that’s the case, I can see just where All Might got his horrendously rigid worldview from.”

Shimura opened her mouth, stepping towards Midoriya to counter when he merely kept speaking in the same cold tone. “You don’t know anything of what is going on, Shimura Nana. By your own admission, you’ve spent your time not knowing what’s going on, so let’s give you a quick crash course, shall we?”

The snarl in Midoriya’s tone and the fire flaring in his eyes had Shimura stepping back, even as he advanced on her. “Your successor has become the symbol of peace for this country. He deters criminal activity and foreign invasion with his mere existence. Your successor has become a glowing beacon of hope for the people of Japan.”

Shimura couldn’t help the ghost of a smile that came to her lips even with the angry man marching towards her. “This same person has now stalked me for months, has almost gotten me killed on two separate occasions, and has succeeded in making a decision that has crippled one of my classmates, someone I was growing quite fond of. Someone whose quirk could have saved an immeasurable number of lives.”

The smile dropped away as she scrunched her brow. “We all make mistakes. I’m certain that Toshi only wanted the be-”

“Exactly the f*cking problem, Shimura. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, and he has nothing but intentions. He has no plan. No common sense. No gods damned idea of the real world under those rose-tinted glasses he wears on his tower of godhood. He has shown me absolutely no reason that he is any better than All for One.”

Shimura’s face twisted back into one of rage at the mere mention of her nemesis’s name. “Don’t you dare compare Toshi or any other successor to that monster. We’ve spent over two centuries making sure that villain can’t do what he wants!”

“And just what do any of you have to show for it, huh?” Midoriya’s voice was creeping up in decibel alongside Shimura's. The only difference was that Hatsume could only hear one half of the conversation. As such, she placed her hand on his shoulder. His head snapped to her, disgust clear in his eyes.

“You may want to lower your voice, Izu. Unless, of course, you want the entire school thinking you're utterly crazy alongside knowing sensitive information.” Midoriya’s eye’s cleared a bit before he closed them and took a long, deep breath. When he opened them again, they’d gone back to the frigid indifference he’d started with.

“Just as an example. Currently, Mrs. Shimura, that man is the only reason the cities of Niigata and Kanazawa are functioning. The only reason that just over two million people can live their daily lives without some kind of base fear. His organization of villains has taken care of the cities after they were abandoned by the government following reconstruction. Families that wouldn’t be able to survive without the peace between the gangs, a peace that is kept by one man. A man so utterly powerful that his existence is spoken of in whispers and serves as a deterrent just as powerful as a symbol of peace.”

Shimura ground her teeth and clenched her fists when confronted by Midoriya’s practically emotionless disinterest. “That doesn’t make what he’s done right. Just because you help people doesn’t right your wrongs.”

Midoriya’s lips twisted now into a cruel, mocking smile. “You are quite right. That man is no saint. He’s done some truly terrible things, and I don’t doubt he will do more before he finally dies. But neither are you, or All Might, or anyone that has held your abilities. Right now, there's no difference between you. None of us are saints, Mrs. Shimura. But don't try to make yourself into one. Your lot is nothing more than a group of martyrs."

Midoriya turned and began walking again alongside his constant companion. No matter what she said, Shimura couldn’t get him to turn around again.

…

Bakugo stepped from the damn rat's office and was met by the one person that could have made this day worse. Standing next to the rat’s secretary in one of those perfectly fitted three-piece suits of his was the source of his problems. Why had he noticed the suit? His father was a fashion designer, so he knew quality clothing when he saw it. Sue him.

Seated next to the giggling, she’s f*cking giggling, secretary was his gears for brains partner, tinkering away with something that looked suspiciously like the teeth of a chainsaw. Bakugo didn’t have anything against the engineer. Not really. Clearly she was intelligent. It was just a shame that she’d decided to tie herself down with a quirkless.

Midoriya’s eyes flicked away from the secretary and ghosted over the family of three while the smile on his face dropped away. He turned to the family, taking in Bakugo Katsuki’s hunched shoulders and the simmering rage in his eyes. Silently, he placed a single hand on the sidearm at his hip. He’d pulled it from his safe when he’d changed into the suit. His nerves were resting on the knife's edge as it was, and he didn’t want nor need to fray them further by not having his sidearm on him.

When Midoriya’s eyes reached Mitsuki and Masaru, they softened. Just what did those two do to be cursed with such a child? They weren’t perfect parents. Masaru was too quiet, only speaking up when it was necessary. Meanwhile, Mitsuki was the opposite and, to any outside eye, may as well have been abusive towards her only son. Even despite this, they tried their best, and that counted for something.

The Bakugos all noticed the quiet warning, and while Katsuki’s parents went rigid with it, their son couldn’t help but snarl. The dull throbbing in his ear was all the reminder he needed that Midoriya wouldn’t hesitate if he tried something. Not that he would with that damned sealed order resting on the back of his neck like the blade of a guillotine waiting for its order to drop.

Midoriya sighed, turning back to the secretary and muttering a few parting words to her. Without a sound, Midoriya stepped past them. It was eerie, practically the passing of a ghost. The only real sound in the room came instead from the clicking of tiny metal blades as Hatsume tinkered while waiting for her partner.

“Wait!” Both older Bakugos startled when their son bit out a word through his snarling. Katsuki turned to find that Midoriya had stopped in front of the doors to Nedzu’s office. He hadn’t turned to him but Midoriya had stopped, and that was good enough. “Is that girl going to be okay?”

The words may have been difficult and strangled, and for Katsuki it was progress in and of itself, but Midoriya was in no mood to give the man even an inch. “I’m sorry, Bakugo, but you are going to have to be more specific than that.”

“Don’t f*ck with me, you bastard. You know exactly who I’m talking about. Your damn partner in the exercise.”

“Well look here, Mei. Here we have something that many consider to be impossible. A villain that asks after their victim.”

“Midoriya! Don’t say such a-” Mitsuki started to speak up in shock and confusion, only to be thrown deeper into those emotions when the boy she’d practically watched grow up turned and stared them down, as if he was witnessing the dredges of humanity.

“Sorry, Auntie, but I’m quite done filtering myself today. Her name is Ochako Uraraka, Katsuki. At least have the conscience to remember the girl's name after you maimed her.”

Katsuki flinched back. Flinched away. Memories of blood and pain rising to the surface even as he pushed them down. “I didn’t- I’m not-”

“Aren’t you? A girl that wanted nothing more than to help people is now missing her legs and had her spine snapped like a twig. Whose fault do you think that is, Katsuki? All Might? No, he merely gave you the tools to commit your crime. You pulled the pin.”

Bakugo clicked his tongue before turning away, fists clenched at his side. “Whatever, it’s not like you aren’t going to just help her out like your company always seems to do. It’s practically all over the news, ‘new hope for the crippled’ and all that sh*t.”

“No, I won’t be helping her at all.” The temperature in the room dipped dramatically as Katsuki spun on Midoriya. He advanced even as he snarled, hands popping and grabbing at the front of Midoriya’s suit.

“You son of a bitch. If this is some kind of sick f*cking joke or punishment to me, don’t you eve-” The words caught in Bakugo’s throat and a nervous sweat dripped down his spine as the cold, hard barrel of Midoriya’s firearm poked him in his ribs, just over his heart.

Quietly, Midoriya whispered into Katsuki’s ear. Words only meant for him. “You can’t help someone who doesn’t want help, Katsuki. But you should know all about that. When I left her in her hospital room, she was broken. Her dreams, her confidence, her pride. You took everything from her. If she never recovers? That’s on you, too.” Midoriya holstered his firearm before twisting Bakugo’s hands off him and smoothing down his lapels.

With a soft smile to their audience, Midoriya nodded. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I have a meeting to be getting to.” Midoriya turned, passing through the doors to the awaiting school president and leaving chills running down the spines of everyone but Hatsume, who was carefully and happily inspecting the edges of her blades.

Chapter 34: Chapter #33 | Shame of the Light

Chapter Text

Shimura had been quiet for some time. This wasn’t to Midoriya’s surprise, of course. Their hallway argument had left both parties fuming and contemplating the insults slung at the other. When All Might stepped through the doors of the president's office, she smiled. When he deflated like a sad balloon, she gasped.

Her head whipped towards the only one that could hear her, only to find a mirthless smirk. “What happened to him?” Midoriya ignored her, instead focusing his attention on the man in front of him. Yagi had taken his seat, and under the hateful gaze of his student, the eternally annoyed look of Aizawa, and the cool, silent stare of the school's president, the large man couldn’t help but shuffle in his seat.

Briefly coughing, Yagi began to attempt to get things started. “Well, I suppose we should-”

“Not yet, All Might. We’re still waiting on another guest for this meeting.” Nedzu wasted no time in cutting Yagi off before silencing him with a paw. Midoriya leaned back quietly into the chair that he’d claimed. He’d moved it when he’d first entered, and while Aizawa had been confused before, he could understand the action now.

He’s placed himself so that he can see both the president and the buffoon without ever losing sight of either. Aizawa could admit it was a smart move if not worrying, considering that they weren’t his enemy.

All Might started fidgeting once again after several minutes had passed. After twenty, he was practically bouncing in his seat. The bouncing quickly stopped when the doors opened and the sound of a cane came rhythmically tapping towards them. All Might didn’t so much as breathe as the blood drained from his body.

Midoriya couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow. Just who was this old man that the symbol of peace froze up like a scared chicken when he heard him coming? The quiet was broken for Midoriya when Shimura began to laugh. “Oh- oh god. You’ve seriously let yourself go, Sora. Holy hell.” The laughter only continued while Midoirya’s eye twitched at the sound.

Quietly, he muttered to his ethereal companion. “Give the guy a break, he looks like he’s running on seventy.”

“I’m not that old yet, kid. Who are you talking to?”

“And apparently your ears are fine, Mr.?”

“Torino, and if you call me mister again, I’m going to break your kneecaps.”

“It’s good to see you, Gran. I’m sorry for calling you in, but I figured you’d like to be apprised of the situation considering to whom this pertains.” The words had hardly left Nedzu’s muzzle when the old man's glare snapped from Midoriya to the president, and finally to the frozen corpse of a man spitting up blood in his seat.

“What did you do? You're going to want to speak up, boy, because Nedzu wouldn’t have called for any kind of simple mess.”

“How do you know Mr.-” The old man’s eyes snapped to Midoriya, who at that moment, knew Torino would actually do his best to break his kneecaps. “Let me rephrase. How do you know Torino?”

“Simple. After Miss Shimura’s passing, Gran approached this institution with the interest of teaching Yagi during his first year.”

“I asked Gran to take care of him if I couldn’t. I-” Shimura’s voice caught when she spoke before she took a deep breath and continued as Nedzu explained as well. “Part of me knew I wouldn’t make it back from my fight with All for One.”

Midoriya’s eyes flicked to Shimura before his eyebrows knitted together. He looked back to Nedzu. “Wouldn’t that put you at least in your thir-” Nedzu’s paw smacked down on the table and the chimera gave a quick bark, bringing everyone’s eyes to him.

“Let's not speak of age, shall we? It’s in poor taste, don’t you think? Instead, let's get down to business, as I am sure Gran would like to be going home.” Young Midoriya seems to know about Shimura. How interesting. Torino gave one final glare at Yagi before sweeping his gaze across the other three and stalking over to the sofa at the side. Sitting with a harrumph, he gestured at the president to go on.

“Now, first order of business. All Might, you nearly got four students killed. You authorized gear that you shouldn’t have for a student that both shouldn’t have had it as early as he did and was flagged as volatile.”

“Young Bakugo wasn’t volatile…”

“Trying to convince Nedzu or yourself?” The sneer in Midoriya’s voice had Aizawa glancing towards the boy and finding abject acrimony.

“Midoriya…” Nedzu’s soft rebuke had Midoriya tsking and leaning back in his seat, animosity still readily apparent in his eyes. Torino laughed.

“Well, I’ve gotta say, this is a first. I’ve not seen anyone that hates you quite this much.”

“Back on topic. This isn’t a trial, All Might. This is your sentencing. It’s already been decided what will happen in regards to this incident. Officially, you’ll be taking a brief sabbatical from teaching and hero work to make amends with the victims of this accident.”

“Incident.” Nedzu’s eyes flicked to Midoriya briefly before he continued, his face a stony visage.

“Unofficially, you’ll be taking some time off to receive your teaching license. Be sure to thank Gran, because he’s agreed to come out of retirement just for you.” A dark chuckle escaped from Midoriya at the sight of All Might. If the man hadn’t looked like a walking corpse before, then he certainly did now.

A nervous sweat chilled along Yagi’s spine as he stuttered out objections to the situation. “Sir, what about my classes? I can’t be away from my students for so long, and not to mention the hero work! I have a job to do. Peace to keep!”

“Believe it or not, Yagi, your coworkers will manage for a bit. As for your classes, you don’t have any until you get your teaching license, and even then it won’t be 1-A anymore. Midoriya and Aizawa will manage, I suspect, better in your absence.”

Yagi’s jaw flapped like a fish out of water as he choked on objections. “Young Midoriya may be capable in the medical field, but he's no teacher!”

“All Might, I have more degrees than you have gods damned brain cells.” The snarl cut his words short even as Nedzu interjected once again. Something that was getting old very quickly.

“Enough. Like I said, this isn’t up for debate, Yagi. It has already been decided. Midoriya has his license already, because of his inventions and the training that they require. At the very least won’t let a first-year student carry bombs into an exercise that students shouldn’t have been in on their first day.” Nedzu winced as the words came out of his muzzle. Perhaps he was more bitter about this smudge on the school's reputation than he gave himself credit for.

“As fun as this little pissing contest is, I’m sure you didn’t call me here for this Nedzu. We already spoke about this.” Nedzu took a slow breath and focused on smoothing his fur down for a moment before nodding. At the same time, Midoriya reached across the desk, pulling on a sticky note as well as a pen.

“Indeed. The reason I called you here is in regards to an incident earlier today. Not the training accident. Yagi here decided to make yet another mistake.” The anger from earlier leached into his tone and Torino focused in on it. It took a lot to rile the rat up to this point.

“Well, that makes things easier.” Aizawa narrowed his eyes at Midoriya. He’d been watching him since he’d pulled the pen.

“What are you talking about, Midoriya?”

“Torino knows about One for All, so I’ll just keep things nice and simple for the sake of time. Your student tried to cram his quirk down my throat against my will.” The room froze. Aizawa and Nedzu had known this, of course, but had planned to tell Torino a bit more diplomatically.

Torino, on the other hand, looked as if his operating system had crashed. One beat, then two, the room was dead silent aside from the whirring of computer fans and the faint ambient noise of campus life going about their days as if nothing was wrong. When Torino finally processed exactly what had been said and turned very slowly towards Yagi, who behaved as if he was staring down the grim reaper, three low, soft words were all that was spoken. “Is this true?”

“W-Well, I mean, yes bu-” Midoriya let out a soft whistle as Torino blurred and a boot made solid contact with Yagi’s face.

“You dare.” Torino’s face contorted into a rage as he stood on top of the cowed hero. Grabbing at Yagi’s oversized shirt, Torino continued. “She gave you that quirk to be her successor. To be better than she was, and you did THIS?”

“Torino, let him go.” Eyes all around the room snapped to the person they least expected to say the words. In fact, even Midoriya looked disgusted by the words coming from his mouth.

Yagi, of course, took it the wrong way and softened his face before lightly saying Midoriya’s name. This just caused Midoriya’s face to twist in disgust further. “Don’t get me wrong, All Might. I would love nothing more than to watch your mentor pummel you into gelatin, but unfortunately I can’t ignore Shimura begging me to stop Torino.”

Not for the first time, the room froze. Slowly, Torino slid off of All Might before staring coldly at Midoriya. That isn't funny, kid.”

Midoriya simply snorted. “Trust me, I’d like nothing more than to be joking. Unfortunately, there were a few side effects of the failed quirk transfer. Side effects that raise a number of rather disturbing questions about the nature of your quirk.”

“Failed?!”

“Failed?” All Might couldn’t help but exclaim in shock, even as the rest of the room asked in a more quizzical tone.

“Of course that's what you all get out of that. Yes indeed. Evidently, the quirk couldn’t be transferred to me, which I learned from the past holders of the quirk itself.”

Torino narrowed his old tired eyes at Midoriya before sighing. “That sounds insane.” Midoriya simply laughed.

“I wish that was the most insane thing in my life. In fact, if I weren’t currently looking at Shimura trying to coddle you, then I would think it was a fever dream brought on by my body rejecting the quirk.”

Slowly, Nedzu rubbed his muzzle just the same as Aizawa rubbed his eyes. “You have to understand that without some kind of evidence, Midoriya, it is kind of hard to believe you. How about you tell us something only Torino would know? I’m sure there are at least one or two conversations that weren’t written down.”

Midoriya quirked his eyebrow seemingly at thin air. “Well then? You were the one that didn’t want to keep yourself hidden. This is on you now.” The silence stretched on for several moments while Midoriya imperceptibly tensed in his seat.

Well either he’s telling the truth, or our most dangerous student is now seeing things. I’m not quite sure which is more concerni-

“No. Think of something else.” Nedzu was brought out of his thoughts to find Midoriya’s jaw clenched and a blank mask carefully spread over his face.

“What is it, kid?”

Midoriya tsked before muttering his resignation and sighing. “She says that you comforted her on top of a building when she gave up Kotaro. You just held her while she said, ‘Sorahiko I never had a child.’ That he doesn’t exist.”

Torino went rigid, his eyes widening into shocked plates before his legs gave out from under him as the full weight of the situation came crashing down onto him alongside the memories of that night. “Oh god, Toshi. What have you done? How is this possible?”

“By my best guess? One for All doesn’t just stockpile the strength of its users. Likely, it stockpile’s th-” Midoriya gagged before scrambling out his seat and retching in the president's trash can. The smell of blood hit Nedzu’s sensitive nose first, but it didn’t take long for the four seasoned pros in the room to catch the scent, as well. “f*ck. I suppose that’s my cue.”

Midoriya stood and rummaged around in his inner coat pocket while the rest of the room stared expectantly at him for an explanation. He simply stared them down while he pulled the pressure syringe from his pocket and pressed it against his neck. Aizawa’s eyes widened, Nedzu’s nose twitched and All Might practically jerked in his seat.

“Another side effect. One that I’m going to have to look into. You don’t need me for this conversation, and I suspect Torino is going to need some time to come to terms with everything. If you need me, I’ll be at the hospital taking care of All Might’s f*ck up.”

"Wait! Nana! Is she okay? How is she doing? Is. Is she mad about what I did?" Midoriya turned cold eyes on Yagi, seething hatred mixing with now with pity.

"A dead woman trapped in limbo from a quirk as insidious as the one that birthed it. I wonder how she might be doing." Midoriya closed his eyes then and bit his lip. He hadn't intended to say that. His manners were all but gone, and the last thing he needed right now was to be around people. Yagi had deserved that, but Nedzu hadn't, certainly not Torino.

"She's as stubborn and naive as you are, All Might. Even if she were disheartened, she'd defend you to the last. I'd worry more about your other predecessors, though, because I've never seen a group of more disappointed people in my life."

Midoriya turned then, striding towards the door. Cold words from a cold heart is what All Might thought. But the words lingered from their truth. A truth shadowed by questions regarding One for All. In the end, no one in the room knew quite what to say to stop Midoriya from leaving.

…

The first thing that Midoriya noticed was how many people were crowded into the common room of the dorms. The first thing Class 1-A noticed when the door opened was that Midoriya looked as if someone had kicked him in the face.

Mina was out of her seat before anyone else and practically slammed into the poor boy. “Oh my god, Midori. Are you alright? Is Ochako okay? What happened wit-” Ashido squeaked when Midoriya grabbed her at her waist and deposited her back into her seat.

“First things first, because I need to get back to the hospital fairly soon.” Midoriya surveyed the common room to find that with a couple of exceptions, the entire class was staring back at him. Good. They’ll be able to rely on each other like this. “Can any of the girls please go up to Uraraka’s room and make her a bag of her things? I know it's a bit early in the semester and we’ve only known each other for a few days, but-”

“I’ll do it.” Midoriya’s attention flicked to where a floaty pair of casual clothes stood beside Ashido. Hagakure, Midoriya realized belatedly. Mutedly, she murmured a comment to Mina to catch her up later before taking off up the stairs. Perhaps not everyone is doing so well.

“Good. Now I’ll answer questions while she’s doing that, and before anyone wastes time, I’m fine. Don’t ask about me.”

“I believe the most pressing question on everyone's mind is about Miss Uraraka. How is she doing?” Midoriya’s eyes flicked to Yaoyorozu before he sucked on his teeth.

“She’s stable and awake.”

“Does that mean she’ll be coming back soon?” Ashido sounded so hopeful. Painfully so, isn’t she?

“Exactly how bad were her injuries? Kero.” Midoriya sighed now, because that question didn’t leave him a lot of room to maneuver, even if he wanted to lie. Couldn't anyways so it was irrelevant.

“Bad. With conventional medicine, she’ll likely be crippled for the rest of her life.” The class gasped, even as Ashido’s eyes widened in shock. “No, I’m sorry, Mina, but I don’t know if she’ll be coming back soon. Or at all, for that matter. That’s up to her now.”

“What about the bastard that did this?” Shinso was the first to voice the question that was lurking in the back of everyone’s mind first to break the uncomfortable silence that had settled over them.

Aggressive, but focused aggression. Is ready to go after Bakugo on his own but has the self-control not to do it. Potential willingness to deal with backlash despite past. Phoenix.

Yes, Midoriya?

Note Shinso down on the list of potential candidates.

Outwardly, Midoriya tilted his head back and forth, as if mulling over a decision before he nodded. “I suppose the professor will be along to inform everyone soon enough. Effective immediately, Bakugo Katsuki has been removed from the hero course for his involvement in the training incident.” The class relaxed slightly. Evidently, no one wanted the foul-mouthed bomb back in their class after the previous day, certainly not after how he'd behaved since then.

“And why aren’t charges being pressed?!” Himiko sprung out of her seat, fangs bared. Kirishima did his best to coax her back down onto the sofa but wasn’t getting very far with it, as his own expression had taken a darker turn.

“Because of part two, but I’ll leave that explanation for Aizawa. Anyone know how Iida is doing?”

Quietly, Koda raised his hand before fidgeting in his seat and gesturing to Midoriya with his hands. Midoriya couldn’t help his expression softening. How on earth is someone like this going to become a limelight hero. “It’s fine, Koda, just sign it for me.

Koda nodded rapidly before his hands began to form the signs of Japanese Sign Language. I checked on Iida earlier. Recovery Girl said that he’d make a full recovery and let him go. He’s upstairs resting right now.

Midoriya nodded and glanced over to where Hagakure had returned with a simple duffle. He thanked her briefly before accepting it and stepping back out the front of the dorm after some parting questions and assurances. He didn’t exactly have the time at the moment to explain the full situations, and both poor Jiro and Himiko had the questions redirected onto them once everyone learned that they had Midoriya’s contact information.

Midoriya put his face against the wall around the corner and simply breathed. He could feel the blood creeping up his throat again. He needed to get to his lab. Needed to run a full spectrum analysis on himself. Needed Hatsume, who had gone back after the meeting, to check his augments. Needed to figure out why he was being haunted by a self-righteous spectre with a hard-on for her personal brand of justice. Needed to do a lot of things. But first, he needed to check on Uraraka. It was his fault that she was in this situation. His failure had done this. He could worry about himself later.

Deep breaths, Midoriya. Midoriya opened his eyes, but instead of the cool grey brick that his head had been resting against, what came into his vision was a face. Instinct followed Midoriya’s next actions. He kicked off the wall, rapidly gaining ground between himself and whatever had startled him. In the meantime, he drew his sidearm and leveled it at the threat.

Nervously, Mirio chucked with his hands up and poking out of the brick wall. “Uh, sorry about that, Midoriya. I, uh, guess I should know better than to startle someone. Do you have a moment to talk?”

Chapter 35: Chapter #34 | Point of Contention

Chapter Text

Midoriya couldn’t help but clench his teeth as he stared Mirio down over the barrel of his sidearm. It was only the man’s head and hands currently poking through the wall, but his body had still jolted when Mirio had surprised him. Midoriya’s pulse slowed, and quickly he shut down the combat data that was streaming into his field of view. His augments had reacted to his instincts, feeding him information, plotting, and predicting.

“So help me, Mirio. If you step out of that wall and you don’t have on the clothes we designed for you, I will pull this trigger.” Blithely, Mirio stepped from the wall, seemingly unperturbed by the firearm still pointed in his direction. The school uniform in question was indeed being worn, and Midoriya lowered his weapon before holstering it and observing. “Are the clothes still sticking to surfaces as you leave them?”

“Oh! I wouldn’t worry about that. They already work so well, I couldn't possibly bother you guys with something like that.” Midoriya eyed the black hexagonal underlayer poking out from underneath Mirio’s uniform in several places as he shook his head.

“We’re responsible for the quality of our product, Mirio. I’ll relay the information to Mei when I see her next.” Midoriya didn’t want to talk to Mirio. He didn’t mind the man, but what was assuredly going to come out of his mouth wouldn’t endear the hero to him. He sighed, because as much as he’d like to tell Mirio no, he knew the man would have a reason for searching for him in specific instead of going to the support department. “Walk and talk. I need to get back to the hospital, and the campus is large enough to accommodate a conversation while we walk.”

Midoriya didn’t wait to hear Mirio’s response and simply turned. The large man smiled and chased after him. Despite this, it was several moments before he said anything. When he finally did, his voice was soft and concerned. “I heard about what happened during the training exercise. Are you alright?”

Of course, that’s why he’s here. Midoriya groaned in his head, because he really doubted Mirio knew anything about it. “When am I ever? But in this case, specifically, I’m fine. Can’t say as much for my classmate. All Might f*cked up, and now I have one classmate who should have been brought up on criminal charges, one that got lucky with his injuries, and another who’s alive purely by miracle.”

Mirio’s smile twitched, and Midoriya could practically feel the disapproval towards his comments. “I’m sure All Might didn’t intend for anyone to get seriously hurt. Surely he couldn’t have predicted that one of his students was unhinged. It was only the first day of class.”

It was Midoriya’s turn to twitch, as he could feel it starting under his right eye. Well, Bakugo’s going to have fun with that rumor. “Mirio, I don’t particularly care what weird cult worship your mentor has going on in his office, but do not stand there and speak of things you know nothing of. All Might is a walking disaster that shouldn’t have ever been put in charge of a class of cade- students.” Midoriya hissed under his breath.

Mirio in turn frowned now. He could put aside the All Might comments for now because Midoriya had reminded him of another question. His consternation was evident on his face and in his voice when he spoke. “What,” Mirio paused and gritted his teeth before breathing out. “What happened between you and Sir? I know things got... tense after your first meeting.”

“Are you referring to before or after he gave you the order not to interact with me?” Mirio jerked and his stride hitched.

“Wh- ho- I didn’t.” Midoriya merely rolled his eyes blandly.

“Oh come on, Mirio. I didn’t even need to know about the order, thanks for confirming that by the way, you’re terrible at hiding it. You found an excuse to leave the room every time I came into the lab. If you wanted to make it more obvious, you would have struggled.”

Once again, Mirio gritted his teeth. “You didn’t answer the question.” Midoriya shook his head.

“Well, you obviously aren’t getting any clear answers from Nighteye. It was probably either his failed attempt to use his quirk on me or when I broke his nose for it.” Mirio sucked in air as his eyes went wide.

“That was you?! Wait, what do you mean, and when, why?!” Mirio’s voice was practically strangled as he squeaked out questions.

“Truly, Mirio, one question at a time, please. About a year ago on that murderous doctor case he was working.”

“The one where the doctor was harvesting organs from the homeless?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. The police department finally broke down and pulled me in after the sixth victim.”

“Why did they pull you in so late? If you could help with the case, why not use you from the start?” Midoriya laughed and waved his hand in the air.

“That would be the logical thought, Mirio, but nothing is ever so simple. I’m one of the heads of a major corporation that has the eyes of the world on them. I was also technically a minor at the time, and I’m quirkless. How could I ever help the real heroes?”

“That’s not-” Again, Midoriya waved his hand as if dismissing the thought, but this time, he cut Mirio off.

“Of course not, but it’s a complicated mess of bigotry, politics, and hurt feelings. As it is, that was the last case I got called in to help them with. Nighteye and I got into an argument regarding the case during one of the briefings. Long story short? He grabbed me and tried to use his quirk to settle the dispute and panicked when it didn’t work on me. I decked him for trying, so he used his influence to get me removed from the case. He didn’t like an unknown variable. Damn bastard got another three victims before Nighteye finally felt confident enough to take him down.” Bitter resentment had leached into his tone at the thought of the needless deaths.

Mirio stayed quiet for a long moment before speaking again. “That certainly explains why he, uh.”

“Oh, don’t try to sugarcoat, Mirio. The man hates me. He considers me to be a volatile liability with a penchant for drastic actions.”

“He wouldn’t think tha-”

“Funny, since those were the exact words he used.” Mirio was silent again, and even without looking, Midoriya could tell he was frowning at him. Midoriya sighed and this time was the one to break the silence. “Look, the man’s not evil, nor do I hate him. I simply find him to be entirely too cold in his decisions. His cautiousness isn’t even that anymore. It’s just paranoia.”

“Sir wants the best for everyone. I grant you that sometimes he airs on the side of caution, but he really means well!”

“I wish that’s all it was, Mirio, but again, you don’t seem to know anything about your boss or what caused this. You aren’t thinking about the extents he’s willing to go to in order to make things go to his plan. His utilitarian behavior is great statistically, I grant you, but as a hero, he leaves much to be desired.”

Mirio wanted to say something, wanted to defend his teacher, but the bile rising in his throat was stopping him. A mixture of memories telling him that Midoriya was telling nothing but the truth as he saw it, and a wave of instinctual anger at his mentor being insulted. His focus on Midoriya let him catch the sudden flip as they arrived at the sleek, black motorcycle that Midoriya preferred.

A sly smile on his lips, Midoriya leaned against the nearby light post. “Let’s play a little game, Mirio. It’s one I played with your boss before things soured between us. I’m going to give you a scenario, and you're going to work your way through it.”

Mirio’s eyes narrowed, but he figured Midoriya had a reason for this. He’d play along for now. “Okay, what’s the scenario?”

“Runaway train is bearing down on five individuals a villain has tied down to the track. You can run for the lever and switch the track, of course. You have enough time for that. But the villain has tied someone else to that track, as well. The train driver is desperately trying to fix the breaks, and you believe you're the only hero in the area.”

Mirio’s brow creased in disgust at the situation. “The trolley problem? Really, Midoriya?”

“Not quite, but close, you’re right.”

“No casualties are acceptable in our line of work. I try to save them all, obviously.”

“Spoken like a well-trained dog of the system. Congrats, Mirio. You try your best and save three before the train plows into the two remaining. They die on impact while the train derails and slams into the other track, killing both the man on the other track and the driver. Four dead. Three alive.”

Mirio gaped at the cold assessment of the situation and sputtered angrily. “Fine, I switch the track and run to save the one man.”

“You switch the track but the switch is too far to get there in time. You get a front-row seat as he dies. One dead. Six alive.”

“That’s not acceptable.” Mirio practically growled the words and tried again.

“Two dead. Five alive.”

“Four dead. Three alive.”

“One dead. Six alive.”

“Well, congratulations, Mirio. You just managed to get every single person in the scenario killed and even some extra property damage.” Mirio’s eyes were furious, and the ever-present smile that he’d been trained to have was nowhere to be found.

“Oh f*ck you, Midoriya. Fine. I do nothing. Because clearly you just want everyone to die.” The remark was scathing, and Mirio knew he would regret it later, but all he could feel at that moment was that Sir was far warmer than the man in front of him.

Midoriya smiled an evil smile. All tooth and far too wide, a feral expression hungry for the conflict. He breathed out the words, all too happy to direct the anger at himself. “Congratulations, Mirio. Seven… alive.”

Mirio froze, his brain grinding to a halt. “What?”

“You couldn’t have known, but the train driver had been prepared for something like this. He knew how to manually stop the train. With a ninety percent chance of success, the train driver was the key here to making sure everyone walked away from this.”

“But- but, WHY THEN-”

“Because, Mirio, he saw you. The driver of the train saw the enterprising hero jump into the situation and all panic left him. All training went away because he, like everyone else in this society, assumed that because a hero was there, everything was perfectly fine and that he could leave it all to you.”

Midoriya sighed before properly saddling his bike. “It’s an impossible situation, Mirio. You can’t know that the solution is to do nothing, and you can’t just do nothing in good conscience. This is a situation where someone is more than likely going to die because of the actions of another.”

“That doesn’t make it acceptable, Midoriya.”

Midoriya just shook his head while he started his bike and idled it. “No, it doesn’t, Mirio. But then again, it happens whether we like it or not, and you should know that by this point. But I will commend you, at least you didn’t take the same route as Nighteye.”

Mirio clenched his fists and released them, trying to calm himself, but went stiff again at the mention of Sir. He’d forgotten that Midoriya had said he’d played this game with him, as well. “What do you mean?”

“I posed this situation to Nigheye three times, Mirio. All three times, he pulled the lever without considering other possibilities.” Mirio gritted his teeth.

“And you, Midoriya? What would you have done?” The residual anger inside Mirio froze and evaporated into dread as his breath caught in his chest. Midoriya stared at him now with eyes of cold, dead retribution.

“Mmm. I wonder. Let me ask you a question then, Mirio. If two have to die, then don’t you think the one who caused the situation should be one of them?” Mirio was in too much shock to say anything as Midoriya drove away.

…

Midoriya came to a stop in his parking spot in the hospital’s parking garage and, after turning the bike off, just sat there. His head pressed against the cool metal in front of him as the conversation with Mirio ran through his head yet again, just as it had the entire ride over. He hadn’t intended to play games with Mirio, hadn’t intended to intentionally provoke the man so that he could see what he would do, could see if Mirio was too far gone.

Why hadn’t he seen the utter failure of their school system sooner? Had none of the teachers prepared their students to lose people in the field? Eraser wasn’t that irresponsible, so why were there missing courses in the curriculum? Not everyone needed to know how to defuse a bomb, but why the hell were none of them trained to deal with something like an unwinnable scenario?

Midoriya pushed it down and boxed it up. He could psychoanalyze himself later, could find new ways he’d been messed up. He would certainly find new courses that he needed to cover and teach if he was going to be dealing with his class. Midoriya closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his mind was clear. Regardless of anything else, he had a job to do.

…

“Midoriya!” He chuckled as twin forms crashed into his legs. He’d decided to check in on the pediatrics wing and was glad he had. The two small forms of the Muto twins were a sight to see. A villain had broken into the children's elementary school and used the staff as hostages before coming unhinged and attacking the children.

“Haruki! Katsuro! What did I tell you two about running into people like that!” Midoriya chuckled as he waved their mother off.

“Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Muto. I’m too sturdy to be knocked over by such small figures! Isn’t that right, you two?” The children giggled, even as Midoriya picked up the young sister of the pair and settled her at his hip. “I take it you guys came in today for Haruki’s check-up?”

The twins’ mother sighed wearily. “Yes, we did. Doctor Takashima just directed us to wait out here. We were about to sit down when the kids went running towards you.”

“Hmm. Well, let’s see.” Midoriya called over to the department secretary with a smile. “Sazama, could you tell Doctor Takashima that I’ve taken his patients back for him?” The secretary called back with an affirmative, and Midoriya gestured for the family to follow him. One twin on his hip, the other at his leg while they walked back.

Once in an examination room, Midoriya set the young girl down onto the table and gestured for her mother and brother to take a seat. Carefully, Midoriya rolled up Haruki’s left sleeve and left pant leg before gripping the matte, flesh-toned, protective casings of the limbs. “Tell me if anything hurts, alright Haruki?”

The girl nodded, and with a twist, Midoriya deftly disconnected the two prosthetic limbs from their connection plates. The girl winced a little, and Midoriya looked up at her. “That hurt?”

“Nuh-uh. Just a bit tight, pinched a little.” Midoriya smiled.

“That’s good. Means that the systems are working as intended.” Pulling a pair of goggles from a drawer and setting the limbs aside, Midoriya’s eyes began to glow behind the lenses. The connector plates were at the girl's elbow and knee, and despite the prototype nature of them, it seemed the girl’s body was showing no signs of rejection. Looking closer, Midoriya observed the connections in her nerves and on the bones. Luckily, no signs of deterioration lay there either. “You know, you’re very brave for volunteering for this. Even a lot of adults weren’t willing to try it out.”

Haruki stuck her tongue out. “Those adults are just big wimps. Besides, if I do this, I can be a big help!”

“She shouldn’t have had to help.” Midoriya’s eyes flicked to where Katsuro sat and hung his head before snapping back to his patient.

“And what a help you’ve been. Didn’t you know? You’ve single-handedly pushed the project forward by years potentially! You’ve really saved the day.” Midoriya handed back the girl's prosthetic leg. “Do you remember how to attach it?”

Haruki nodded, practically bouncing in her seat. “Yes! Hatsume showed me how the last time she made adjustments.” Midoriya couldn’t help a low chuckle. Of course she’d shown the child how to handle complicated prosthetics before she’d healed. Midoriya set the girl's arm against its socket and activated the connectors. There was a low hum briefly as electromagnets lined up the pins and the device reattached the prosthetic. Once again, Haruki winced but smiled when the fingertips of the fake arm wiggled.

“Alright, go ahead and put your leg back on and we’ll walk back out to the lobby, okay?”

…

Midoriya watched the pair of siblings play around as he spoke with their mother. “Alright, the two MNSC’s implanted in Haruki’s limbs are doing fine. If anything, she’s actually ahead of schedule. We estimated that full recovery from the surgery wouldn’t be for a full year, and yet she’s already back on her feet in four months. Just bear with the maintenance routine and you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

Relief was visible on the mother's face. “Thank you, doctor.”

“One more thing. It’s about both of your children.” Mrs. Muto looked at him, mildly confused but attentive, ready for whatever Midoriya had to tell her. “Your daughter did a very brave thing and likely saved his life when she pushed Katsuro out of the way, but she paid a price, just as I'm sure he did, as well. No one really comes out of something like that unscathed. Trauma from an event like this can be both wide-reaching and, a lot of the time, not immediately evident. We have a number of counselors on staff here in the hospital, and you're also free to pursue a private practice, as well. But likely, they're both going to need someone to talk to."

The pain was evident in Mrs. Muto’s eyes, but so was determination. A relief for Midoriya that the twins had someone to take care of them. She nodded. “Thank you, doctor. I’ll be sure to do that.”

…

Midoriya waved to the family as they walked out the doors of the hospital. Once they were out of sight, he turned to the nurse that had been following them for the last while. “What is it?”

“Mrs. Uraraka is asking for you, sir.” Midoriya closed his eyes and breathed.

“Alright, I’ll be right there.”

Chapter 36: Chapter #35 | Gilded Phoenix

Chapter Text

Midoriya stood outside of Uraraka’s room, simply observing the woman through the glass window. For anyone else, it would be hard to believe that this girl, some measly hours before, had been bouncing around and socializing like any other freshman college student. Adjusting to her new living arrangements, making friends, expecting a training exercise to be the most stressful part of her day. Instead, Midoriya now watched as she stared forward blankly at the room's television displaying nothing.

Midoriya entered quietly, taking a seat in the chair next to the bed. Idly, he jotted her vitals on his clipboard before placidly placing it down onto the table, crossing one of his legs, and taking another look at his classmate. Still staring at the wall. When softly calling her name did nothing, he couldn’t help but clench his eyes shut and let the memories come.

Memories of men and women with the same look in their eyes, staring blankly at the walls of the medical bunker. Of others screaming in pain as the medics rushed around him, doing everything they could with outdated techniques and scant supplies. The keen whistle of shells rained down around the trenches, and even then they didn’t react to the sounds, already too desensitized to the senseless, ceaseless, creeping death.

Midoriya jolted, his eyes snapping open, as his breath hitched and the faint buzz of implants beneath his skin went back to sleep. Uraraka was looking at him now, he realized. Her question had brought him out of his memories, but when she asked the single word of him a second time, he could feel the composed smile slip for a moment. “Why?”

“Why what, Uraraka? I’m afraid you’ll have to be a bit more specific.” Midoriya knew, though. Knew what he was being asked but didn’t want to admit it all the same. He’d been asked the question too many times before.

“Why? Why did you save me? Why am I alive?” Uraraka’s voice broke with the last question just as another piece of Midoriya’s composure was chipped away.

“Well, I couldn’t very well let my exercise partner die on me, could I?”

Uraraka tucked her head down against her chest and wrapped her arms around herself before sobbing. “I should have just stayed and worked for my parents. But dad kept pushing me to follow my dreams, so I did everything I could to get into U.A. and look how it turned out. I’m just going to be a drain on them now.”

Midoriya tilted his head, doing his best to keep his voice steady. “Is that why you wanted to become a hero? Because your family business wasn’t going well?”

A wet, mournful laugh bubbled up in her throat. “Of course not. But I wasn’t going to complain about the paycheck. I could have been the one to take care of them for once.” Once again, Uraraka’s eyes began to lose focus. To stare at nothing.

“I would consider helping others to help your parents to be as good of a reason as any other. Gods knows it’s a better reason than some heroes I’ve come across. But I wonder, do you still want to be a hero now that your reason for it is gone?”

Uraraka’s head snapped up. “Wh-what? What do you mean gone?! My parents? Are they?”

“Fine. Hatsume and I, however, took a look at your parents' company's past work. Frankly, unless there is something that we are both severely missing, I can’t see any reason that your situation should have been a bad one.”

Uraraka snorted a bitter, venomous sound. “We refused to cut corners, so our work was slower and more expensive than our competitors. Even before they intentionally started sabotaging us.”

“Mmm, yes. Onyx Contracting. We looked into that. Suffice it to say, sabotaging you wasn’t their entire goal for your little family. Regardless, you’ll find that all of that is irrelevant now.” Midoriya glanced at the clock ever-present in his field of vision before continuing. “As we speak, Mei is likely finalizing a deal with your parents that will make them the lead contractors on several... facilities that we have planned.”

For a long time, Uraraka just stared. Midoriya waited and couldn’t help but grimace when his classmate's shock twisted into a sneer. “Yes, I’m sure you did this all because I was on your team for a training exercise.”

“The lady of truth always comes with her bodyguard of lies. I can appreciate the sentiment, a suspicious mind is a healthy mind. But no, I hired your parents because they do good work and we need quality, not speed, with these facilities.”

Uraraka snorted “You always seem to have an answer for everything, don't you? Answers for my quirk, answers for my parents, answers for the company giving us hell, answers for keeping me alive. So what, Midoriya? What am I supposed to do now? Are you going to tell me to be a legless hero? Are you going to tell me you can grow my legs back at the price of my soul? Do you have the answers for that, too?”

Midoriya winced before sighing. “I’m not a demon, Uraraka, nor do I have the answers for everything. Even as well informed as I am, my information gets spotty outside of this prefecture.”

Uraraka’s brain finally caught up with her mouth as she processed what she'd said. An attempted, sobbed apology almost made it out of her mouth when Midoriya smirked.

“I could fix your legs. But I’m not going to without a reason.” Uraraka stilled and her mouth opened, yet nothing came out. “No need to look so shocked and hurt. Normal prosthetics would do you well enough, don’t you think? Ectoplasm managed quite well with his. Besides that, your reason for being a hero is gone, as well, don't you think? Your family doesn’t need your paycheck, after all. You can do anything you want now.”

“And you think that is all that matters?!”

“Isn’t it for you? You just told me you were helping people to help your parents. The paycheck is nice, isn’t it? I could simply employ you and you would get the same benefit.”

Uraraka’s eyes lit with abject fury as she practically hissed words at Midoriya. “Don’t you dare put words in my mouth, Midoriya. I said that the paycheck was a nice benefit. I never claimed that I was doing it just for the money.”

“So what? You think you’d still be helping people if you didn’t have to worry about your parents? You grew up scraping together and making ends meet. You think I’ve not seen your type? One taste of fame and you’ll be bowing before the HPSC before you know it.”

“I know I’m going to help people, Midoriya. Even if I can’t walk as well as I used to, even if I have to float myself all the way there, I’m going to help people. I don’t give a single sh*t about bowing to the commission or even the devil himself if it means I can save more lives. I lost my legs, not my damn quirk. I’m going to be a rescue hero, damn it, not frontline, so just get the f*ck out if all you can do is spew accusations.” Uraraka’s chest heaved with both anger and her shortened breath as pain lanced across her torso. For the first time in a while, Midoriya felt a smile pull at his lips. A sharp smile that was all teeth. Slowly, he began to clap.

“Very good. Very good. Here I was worried that this incident may have scared you off of the hero career or dulled your resolve.”

Uraraka’s head snapped to Midoriya from where she had fallen back into her bed with an expression of confusion mixing with the previous anger. Midoriya’s smile only grew when Uraraka’s eyes widened and she began to sputter. “You-you son of a bitch, you just played me.”

“Oh absolutely. I needed to hear you say it yourself. I would, of course, have supported you if you’d decided that you no longer wished to be a hero. Would have even hired you, if you’d liked.”

Uraraka just sighed and let her head drop back against the pillow. She’d kept herself sitting up for too long, and with the exertion that Midoriya had just dragged out of her, her injuries had made themselves readily apparent even through the painkillers. “Why, Midoriya. Just why.”

“Because if I’m going to help you, then I need to know you’re dedicated to the cause.”

“Why does that sound like a loaded term coming from you?” Midoriya just continued to smile rather than respond. “Does this mean you're going to fix my legs, as you put it?”

“I can. You could, of course, go with simple prosthetics like Ectoplasm. I wasn’t kidding about that. He manages quite well without both of his legs.”

“I also get this feeling like you have another option.”

“Options really. Two in fact. The first would be that I effectively clone your legs and reattach them. Would take at least two weeks to grow them, a week of recovery time, and probably about another week getting used to walking again. All in all, you’d be out for about a month before you’d be able to rejoin us in the hero course.”

“And the second option?”

“The second option is much quicker but comes at a cost. Physically, that is.”

Uraraka’s eyes flicked to where Midoriya sat as concern warred with exhaustion. “What is it?”

“Option two involves me installing two experimental MNSC disks into your nubs.”

Uraraka winced. “Can we not call them that.”

“Sorry, stumps.”

“Not any better.”

“Regardless. I’d be installing two of the disks, connecting up to your nervous system. Mei, at the same time, would be creating two new legs for you of the mechanical variety. Those will connect to the MNSC’s in your… legs, allowing you to move your new mecha legs just like you would normal legs, plus use any kind of extra Mei puts in. I can have you rejoining the hero course by the end of this week.”

“What’s the catch? No way do I get that good a deal in a week. It’s too easy.”

“The catch is that you’ll spend most of the week in excruciating agony until the nanites I inject you with restructure your nervous system to accommodate what we’ll be doing to it.”

“Nan- what?! Isn’t that the SciFi doomsday thing?”

Midoriya shrugged. “These are medical nanites, and they don’t self-replicate. You’ll also sweat them out when they’ve done their job. No need to bore you with the science, though.”

“Can we do option one later if I go with option two now?” Nervous about that. Midoriya couldn’t say he blamed her. Giving up even a piece of humanity was something to be wary of. Not that he’d had much of a choice. He’d do it the same if he was given the choice again, though.

“Maybe, if you don’t mind the potential for catastrophic complications of reverting your neural pathways.”

Uraraka took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Midoriya just waited for her decision. “If I go with option two, you said Hatsume would be putting extras in my legs?”

“Probably yes. She can’t seem to make anything to specification without taking it further.”

“Will that extra help me save people?”

“I would imagine so, yes.”

Uraraka opened her eyes and stared Midoriya down. “Fine then. Give me hell, Midoriya.”

…

Midoriya was whistling when Nedzu entered his office through the open window. Midoriya just raised an eyebrow at the chimera. “You couldn’t just use the front door like a normal person?”

“I’m not a normal person, and I hate the security checks in this hospital.”

“I had those implemented for a reason.” Nedzu dismissed it with a flick of his wrist.

“How is young Uraraka faring?”

“She’s stable and will be back in classes in about a week.”

Nedzu spun around and away from the bookshelf he’d been examining intently. “That’s rather impressive. Don’t suppose you’d tell me how you plan on managing that, Midoriya? Or is that a secret?”

Midoriya just smiled while crossing his hands. “Why, my dear president, I don’t particularly have any secrets. You’re just not asking the right question to get answers.”

Both Nedzu and Midoriya stared at each other for a long moment before Midoriya shifted the subject. “By the way, how long,” Midoriya pulled a file from a stack of them on the side of his desk, “do you think it would take to build this?”

Nedzu took the file from Midoriya and glanced between it and him for a moment before opening it. Nedzu skimmed it once. Then twice. Then he smiled and skimmed it a third time. He looked up with glee in his black eyes. “Oh, Midoriya. You are quickly becoming my favorite student.” Nedzu's muzzle scrunched up briefly before he sniffed the folder and laughed with the same glee. “And it’s lemon scented!”

…

Uraraka shuffled awkwardly in her wheelchair. She’d been extricated from the hospital and transferred to Moonlit Industries early that morning, much to the dismay of the other doctors in the ICU. They had finally relented when Uraraka herself had begun to argue for her release.

Her parents were evidently busy moving their operations as well as their home to the local area. She had also found out that the next several city blocks surrounding the company headquarters evidently belonged to them, as well. She had mixed feelings knowing that her family was moving into the buildings alongside many of the company's employees. On one hand, it was a fantastic opportunity for her family, and they would be fools to not take it. On the other, it involved her family leaving the area that she’d grown up in.

Once again, Uraraka shuffled awkwardly in her wheelchair, a blush rising to the surface of her face as yet another employee wandered by her. She was sitting in what Midoriya had described to her as the biological suite, wearing what she could only describe as underwear, while Midoriya typed away on a computer in front of her.
Uraraka watched as Midoriya stopped for a moment before reaching up to his ear and humming briefly. “Yeah, that’s fine. Just walk her over. I’m busy at the moment.”

“Who was that, Midoriya?”

“You have someone who wants to see you.” Midoriya left it at that and went back to typing, eyes squinting slightly at the information on his screen and clicking his tongue.

Faintly, she heard the beep of the security locks on the door into the suite before the soft sound of running. What's going on? “URARAKA!”

“Woah there!” Midoriya lurched out his seat just in time to catch a flying bundle of clothing by the back of the shirt. “She’s still heavily injured, so calm down, Hagakure.”

“Sorry about that, Midoriya. I didn’t expect her to go running off like that when she spotted Uraraka.”

Dropping the now still girl back onto the ground and stepping off to the side, Midoriya turned to Hatsume. “What sidetracked you, anyway?”

“Akihiro from chemicals needed advice with the fuel for Icarus. It’s burning off too quickly with the current design for it to have a return trip.”

“Hmm, that’s problematic. Hagakure’s case going any better?”

“Much. Easier than Togata’s case. The encoded textiles seem like they’ll work fine for a suit, but it’ll take a bit longer before I’m able to make something to reverse the field she’s got around her.”

“I’m sure for now she’ll just be happy to not be nude during training. Here.” Midoriya handed Mei a vial of silvery, grey fluid. “I’ve already sent the instructions over. Could you put that in the encoder for me? It’s about time to get started. I’ll brief her in the meantime.”

“Sure thing.”

“Thanks.” Midoriya turned, putting his best business smile on. “Now girls.”

…

Uraraka watched as Midoriya dropped the bundle of clothing that she now recognized as Hagakure. “Hey, Hagakure. How are things going with the class?”

Rather than respond, the other girl gently wrapped her arms around Uraraka. “Are you alright?”

Tentatively, Uraraka returned the embrace. “I’ve been better. But don’t worry! Midoriya’ll fix me right up.”

Hagakure pulled back with a strained smile that Uraraka couldn’t hope to see. “The class is still reeling from the botched scenario. The hero classes have been canceled for the time being. Apparently, we’re getting a new instructor. Ooo! And Bakugo was removed for blowing up the building.”

Uraraka grimaced at the thought of the explosive blond. He’d been rude and abrasive. Plus, he’d dropped a building on her. She couldn’t say she felt terribly guilty over his removal. She was curious as to what she meant by new instructor. What had happened to All Might?

“Now girls.” Both girls turned their heads towards Midoriya stepping back to them. “It’s about time we got started for Uraraka, and I’ll take the sample from you in just a moment for the biocoding, Hagakure.”

Both girls nodded, and Hagakure hopped up to sit on the table Midoriya had been working at. “Want the quick version or long, Uraraka?”

Uraraka grimaced again before shuffling and hunching in on herself as one of Midoriya’s employees jogged past with a box, making some form of sloshing sound. “Short, please. Let’s just get on with this.”

“Do you want Hagakure here for this explanation?”

Uraraka glanced at the floating clothing and scrunched her nose. “Sure, I don’t mind. Unless it’s like, you know, really sensitive stuff.”

“Alright then, effectively, I’ll be sedating you and taking you into the OR over there.” Midoriya gestured to one of the pair of double doors at the side of the room. “I’ll be installing the MNSC’s into your nubs-”

“Oh please, tell me that’s not what you're calling them.”

“See, that’s what I said,” Uraraka grumbled.

“Once the surgery is complete, I’ll be injecting the nanites and placing you in that gel tube there.” Once again, Midoriya pointed to the side of the room where a tube filled with green slime seemed to rest. “You’ll be in there for about a day and a half while you are put back together from the injuries you sustained. When you come out is when the unpleasant part is going to start, however. Your neural pathways have to be used for the nanites to do their job in its entirety. That means you’ll be walking around while they work.”

Uraraka groaned. “That sounds unpleasant. Also, not to ask a stupid question-”

“No such thing.”

“But how am I supposed to breathe in that gel, goop, stuff.”

“Oh, that stuff, as you put it, is great. It’ll supply all the oxygen you need, among other stuff, provided directly through the skin and lungs.”

“Wait, do you mean that she’ll be...?”

“Yup. Breathing the gel.”

“I take it back. That sounds worse.”

“It feels vaguely like you're drowning, even though you aren’t.”

Uraraka put her head in her hands. “Well, I chose this, I guess.”

“That you did!” Hagakure shifted on the desk to see Midoriya’s crazy partner practically skipping back to him with a vial and a massive needle.

“Thank you, Mei.” Delicately, Midoriya took the vial and the lumbar puncture needle before setting them down on a metal tray. “Since I’ve everything I need, let’s grab that sample from you, Hagakure, and we’ll send you on your way so I can get started on Uraraka.”

Uraraka had fixated on the needle. The very large, very long needle. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been afraid of a needle, but as she felt the blood drain from her face, she had to admit she was scared of this one. Slightly choked and slightly squeaky, Uraraka spoke up. “Is it too late to get that long explanation?” Midoriya laughed.

Chapter 37: Chapter #36 | State of Reality

Chapter Text

Midoriya frowned as he stood in the operating theater. Uraraka had seemed so insistent, so certain before he had put her under. Staring into him as if she had known the things he’d done, the things he was capable of. Her request of taking the augments as far as he could with her body rang in his ears, even as he synced his nervous system with the robotics that he would be using during the operation. The tools of the trade that would allow Midoriya to piece together the mess that had been made of her lower spine, that would allow Midoriya to give the girl the ability to once again walk.

The silence of the theater was broken only by the beep of machines and whir of servos, the air system filtering the air and sterilizing it long before it ever reached the room. He could go further than he'd planned. Could make her better, faster. Could make sure that something like this would never occur again. I could turn her into the monster I’ve become.

Midoriya shook the thought from his head, even as he decided that the most he would do was reinforce the poor girl's bones and muscles. What’s stopping you? You know you need a new generation. A new guard. A new shield against tyranny. You see it, too, don’t you? She could be that. She could be the first of a new breed. She could be our first. You know so much more now.

Midoriya sucked in a breath from beneath his mask as he made the first incision into Uraraka’s skin. Information filled his vision, shuffling in and out of view as Midoriya needed it, three-dimensional overlays providing guidelines for Midoriya to follow. Overlays that Midoriya didn’t need. Operations haunted his dreams, those of his own men, and those of less willing participants. Shut up. We aren’t in a warzone anymore. We aren’t fighting a gods damned doomed war. There isn’t. We aren’t. There aren’t.

But there are, don’t you see it? I see the same information you do. The things they do, the hypocrisy. I know you see it, too. We see the same-

Midoriya sucked in a breath, even as he hissed. “I said shut up.” The only response he got was the steady pulse of the electrical grid practically humming underneath.

“Are you alright, Izuku? I detected a spike in vitals.” Midoriya almost jolted at the sudden voice in the theater. He closed his eyes for only the briefest of moments to center himself.

“Yes. Thank you, Phoenix. Just having an argument with myself again. Status update?” Midoriya knew there wasn’t anything pressing enough to pull his attention away from what he was doing. Phoenix would have alerted him. But if he were honest with himself, at the moment, being alone with his thoughts was more of a risk to Uraraka.

Phoenix was silent for a long moment before speaking again, concern evident in her voice. “Construction of all facilities is going well, as is the dispersal of IGA’s. Spark reports construction of the automated facilities is currently meeting the deadline. Athena reports the LC-086-L’s have finished the structures that will house bastion systems.”

“And Shadow? Any news on All For One and Shigaraki?” Midoriya settled as he spoke to the overseer AI.

“Negative, though Shadow does report several leads as to where they might have disappeared to.” Midoriya noted the jerk of movement across the room, beside the door.

“Put a notice up for all A-class operatives and above regarding information pertaining to either Shigaraki or Kurogiri. I don’t like not knowing where they are. Doesn’t bode well. As for you,” Midoriya shifted his eyeline as he picked up the first of many electronics and metal disks that would be inserted into Uraraka before he was complete, “you’ve been quiet since the hospital. What’s pressing on that great big heart of yours?”

“Toshinori lied to us.” Midoriya had, admittedly, not been paying too much attention to Shimura when he had asked the question. Pleasantries that had been ingrained in him and had somehow survived despite everything. It was a question he had asked mostly due to the reappearance of his residential specter and not because he was expecting anything to actually come of it.

That is precisely why when Shimura not only spoke of the singular cause of most of his current issues, but also spoke in plural, Midoriya’s mind stood at attention, fixating on the pale, gaunt figure leaning against the wall. Even as he threaded microscopic lattice through muscle and skin, he watched Shimura. Watched as the woman struggled with words before trying to slam her fist into the wall. She was met with no resistance, her fist merely passing through as if nothing at all were there.

“What do you mean, ‘lied to us.’ Is All Might capable of talking with the predecessors? The implications of all of this are already startling enough without that.”

Shimura raked her hand through her hair over and over, strands pulling themselves out of their binding and flittering around with her gestures. “No, no. Well, no. Not really. We spoke with his, shade? Subconscious? He never really spoke with us, but we learned everything he learned. So I guess he wasn’t lying to us, per se, but. God damn it.”

Midoriya quirked an eyebrow at the woman. He hadn’t known her long, but seeing a pro hero, especially one that had lived through the Urbans, this distressed was a sight to behold. “How about you start from the beginning?”

“At the hospital, that girl. Then again with your classmate. You heal and you care. But I saw what you did in that simulator. You kill with such ease.”

“You think that the ability to kill is mutually exclusive with the ability to care?”

“No. No, god damn it. But this isn’t how things were supposed to be. Toshi said that things were better. The war is over! Why can someone like you that’s so young kill so easily? Things were supposed to be better! The commission was supposed to protect people, make sure someone like you never had to see what we saw…”

Midoriya sighed as he slotted another piece into place under his classmate's skin. “I see now. Of course, that’s the issue. Your information is skewed.”

Shimura’s head whipped around so fast Midoriya was surprised she didn’t break her neck. She stalked across the room until she was beside him, letting out a quiet, “What?”

Midoriya rolled his eyes before gesturing to a spot across the operating table. “First off, please move back into my field of view. Despite everything, I would prefer not to take my eyes off my patient.” When Shimura had moved back to where he could see her, he continued. “I don’t know why you're surprised by that, Shimura. Your only source of information for the last thirty-one years has been the man literally at the top of the field. The same man that is practically worshipped by the masses of two major countries and has countless fans outside of them.”

“You're saying that he’s only seeing the best, so obviously we would only know about the best.”

“Something like that. Think about it this way, if you have a nuclear weapon capable of leveling an entire nation on its own, why use it on some random crime syndicate? It’s not that All Might only sees the best, Shimura. It’s that no one bothers to tell him anything else. He hears how his presence itself lowers the crime rate. He hears that crime rates are trending down in his area. Which is great! But it would be better if the area he’d just left wasn’t trending up.” Midoriya shifted his stance before pulling a hand away from the unconscious girl in front of him and, with a quick mental message to Phoenix, gestured the holographic systems to life in the operating room. On them data spanning the last decade, cycling at a speed slow enough for Shimura to peruse.

“He’s a limelight hero. He stops crimes, absolutely, but when was the last time he fought an enemy that was indoors? When was the last time he came across something and didn’t pass it off to his agency to investigate and delegate? Years ago, Shimura. How would he know if something’s major? From what I can find, the last time was when he fought All For One. Years, Shimura. Years of the man soaking in his own radiance, and he’s bought into his own damned propaganda.”

“Toshi’s not like that, Midoriya. He helps everyone, and the commission wouldn’t just use him as some peacekeeping figurehead. If something was going on, then they would tell him! He’d know about anything major happening!” Once again, Midoriya couldn’t help but sigh.

“I can’t speak to the conditions in other countries, but the Japanese Hero Commission is one of the single biggest problems with how things are going. They aren’t the same as when you were alive. Back then, it was a small group of well-meaning people with big ideas. Now? It’s a bunch of corrupt bureaucrats. They don’t care about morality or actually doing ‘good works.’ It’s all about their image and the power they can obtain. They don’t even care if a hero is breaking the law, as long as they don’t get caught. They put up yearly popularity rankings where the only reason they include heroes who aren’t associated with them is because of the backlash if they didn’t.”

Shimura was tapping her foot now, nervous energy only becoming worse as she read through the information provided during his rant on the HPSC. Even as she spoke, those nerves leached into her voice. “Oh come on, Midoriya, if things were as bad as that, surely people would be saying things! Besides, how do I even know this information is correct? You could have completely made up these crime statistics.”

“Believe them or not, Shimura, I don’t care. They aren’t even my own statistics. Those were collected by the PSIA. Our number one is as dense as they come, number two abuses his family, and number three is a grown-up child soldier trained by the very institution you’re defending. Think about that for a moment.” Shimura gritted her teeth, fists clenched at her side. “You're also wrong that people aren’t talking. You have a quirkless resistance movement because of how we’ve been treated all of our lives. You have protests from mutant quirk groups for their own treatment compared to emitters. The New MLA is rapidly gaining traction as a quirk supremacist group-”

Shimura jerked again at that, her face twisting into horror as she stepped back before sitting down on a stool. “But- that. That’s completely against what the MLA stood for!”

Does she realize that she just interacted with a physical object? Her fist passed through the wall earlier, but now she can sit on the stool fine? Is it subconscious? Is it- Midoriya cut the thought off. He’d wonder about it later. “Not at all. It’s just a bastardized extremist version of the original teachings. But this is the reality of things. I think it’s time that you stopped thinking with the information you’ve learned, and start learning the information you’ve been given.”

Midoriya turned back to his patient; he just needed to suture the girl up, give her the injection, and place her in the gel tank. He didn’t particularly need to pay too much attention at this point, but she deserved it all the same. Besides, Shimura had some thinking to do.

…

Midoriya was reclining in his office when his computer beeped and he opened his eyes. He was tired, but after the last couple of days, nothing good was going to come of sleep. Not that anything good ever came of sleep. Uraraka was unconscious in her tank upstairs in the bio lab, and his employees were more than capable of overseeing her condition once they came into work in the morning.

Nedzu had been kind enough to excuse his personal student to do what needed to be done, but even still, Midoriya would have to go back to campus in the morning. As if he didn’t have enough on his plate, he now had teaching duties to perform. It had been so long since he’d taught anyone anything, and besides that, would he be able to teach a class that wasn’t made up of soldiers?

Why bother changing your teaching techniques? They need to know how to survive. Besides, it's not kindness that the rat is showing you. He is using us as an easy solution. He wants to see what we can do. He’s a threat. We need to deal with him.

Midoriya ignored the thoughts scratching at his sanity and instead pulled up the reports that had just come through onto his terminal. One was his own lab work that he’d performed after Uraraka was safe in her tube. The other was Mei’s report on the current status of the holographic screens. One that, admittedly, both of them felt was redundant. Mei had been working practically nonstop on the technology and had long since ironed out the kinks, but, much to her dismay, she still had to write the report, if only to adhere to the internal audit trail.

Midoriya skimmed through it but didn’t need to read much before he signed off and forwarded the report to their legal and manufacturing departments. One would take care of the paperwork, and the other would begin their rollout of the technology onto the market. Midoriya let himself chuckle lightly at the thought. Hatsume was living her dream right now, changing the world one piece of technology at a time with free reign to work on whatever she wanted. The world just wasn’t ready for the girl.

Pulling up the next report, Midoriya got to work reading through the full battery of results he’d received back from the machines and the bio suite's A.I., Sprite. Not that the employees knew that, of course. They’d been introduced to her as a Virtual Intelligence and Midoriya had no plans to disabuse them of that notion.

Most of Midoriya’s results were, as he had expected, f*cked practically beyond recognition. It wasn’t until Midoriya reached his sequenced genome that he verbally groaned. It looked vaguely like someone had taken a sledgehammer to him. It would take weeks of gene therapy to get it all fixed. Midoriya continued to skim through it, though, making a full list of everything he would need to piece back together. Then, Midoriya stopped and grinned ear to ear. He knew every bit of his own genome like that back of his hand. He knew the genomes of each and every person he had ever manipulated, and what he was looking at matched nothing he’d ever seen. Midoriya whispered to himself, “Found you.”

The knock at the door had Midoriya looking up from the report and calling out to come in. When Dabi stepped through the door, Midoriya's eyes flicked to the clock and his eyebrow arched up. “You need something? Usually you’re napping in the back of the security bots housing bay right now.”

Dabi sputtered, cheeks warming slightly. “You- you knew about that?”

“I know about everything that happens inside of this facility. If I had any problem with you taking a nap at two in the morning, I’d have told Athena to tase you instead of waking you up when there was an issue.”

Now it was Dabi’s turn to sigh. “Of course. I don’t even know why I’m surprised anymore. Whatever, yes. The kid's out front again.” Dabi pulled up the security footage on the office holo, even as he explained the situation.

On-screen, Nakayama Suto was, for the seventh time in the last two weeks, once again trying to bypass the security on their front door and get into the lobby. Midoriya let out a slight ah. “Want me to get rid of the kid? His mother went home hours ago.”

Midoriya laughed. “Nah, let him keep trying. I’ve been watching him for weeks now, and I want to see if he’ll manage it. The lobby security is weaker than the rest of the building's doors, so even if he gets in, he won’t get anywhere.”

“You want to be able to press charges when he gets in?”

Midoriya waved the idea away. “Again, nah. Mei likes his mother, Chou. Says the woman has a way with materials, which should be a given considering it’s what we hired her for. But regardless, this is like a little game, don’t you think? It’s fun watching the kid struggle, knowing he’ll get nowhere even if gets in.”

Dabi sweatdropped and deadpanned his response. “Uh-huh. You want to recruit the kid, don’t you?”

“He gets through that front door? Hell yes, I do. It’s not the best security in the building, but it’s still better than some private security institutions. Regardless, though, it won’t be tonight.” Dabi glanced back at the feed just in time to see the sleek black box in Nakayama’s hand practically explode into smoke and sparks. The kid was clearly cursing while he stalked across the parking lot, and Dabi imagined that if the sound weren’t off, they would be fairly creative swears.

“Riiight. Well then, since we’ve cleared up that you're toying with the kid, mind if I go back to my office?” Midoriya was about to tell him that he was good when he narrowed his eyes at him.

“You’ve not realized it yet, have you?”

“You’re going to have to be a lot more specific than that.”

“Let me guess at a few things. You’ve taken to liquid foods and seafood recently, and you have no idea why. When you shower, you’ve been taking longer showers than you used to, and you’ve had a weird urge to go swimming. Which is odd, because you’ve never been terribly fond of water. When you do sleep in your bed, you find yourself burrowing down into the covers and avoiding anything to do with the external world.”

Dabi bristled before throwing one of his hands over his groin and his other arm across his chest like some kind of pure maiden. “Oh come on, man. You don’t have to spy on me all the time! The showers are just weird.”

Midoriya just snorted and rolled his eyes. “I’m not spying on you in the shower, jackass. I just guessed it based on experience. You’ve not even noticed your new instincts.”

Dabi dropped his arms back to his sides before furrowing his brow. “My what?”

“I guess it makes sense that you haven’t noticed. They're fairly benign changes, compared to what they could be. Did you think your abilities were the only things that changed from me altering the very literal fabric of who you are? Instincts, Dabi. Without even thinking about it, you’ve slipped into behavior fitting of someone with aquatic DNA.”

Dabi pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you telling me that I’m a fishman now, Midoriya? Wait. WAIT. Is that why this is like some kind of game to you? Just how much of your DNA is no longer human?!”

Midoriya just smiled at the question before ignoring it entirely. “I’m telling you that you may be slightly more quirky now than before. Heh. Quirky. Quirks.”

Dabi just groaned and threw his hands in the air. “f*ck it. I’m going upstairs to get a drink instead of back to my office, unless there’s anything else you need to tell me about any other baggage that comes with my new abilities.”

“If you start hearing a voice talking to you, tell me about it.”

“HA.” Dabi laughed before taking in Midoriya’s completely serious expression. “OH. Oh, f*ck this.”

Dabi spun on his heel before exiting the office, leaving a laughing Midoriya still sitting in his desk chair. I like that one. He knows hell but holds onto himself. For once, Midoriya could find that he agreed.

Chapter 38: Chapter #37 | Arcadian Inception

Chapter Text

Yaoyorozu shuffled in her seat, even as the rest of the class sparked conversations. They turned to each other and talked of anything that they could think of, ranging from the English assignment that Professor Yamada had just given them to speculation as to who was going to fill the class's empty student slot. None of them, Yaoyorozu noted, were talking about the elephant in the room. What was going to happen with their heroics class?

Professor Aizawa had informed them after Midoriya had left with Uraraka’s bag that All Might would no longer be teaching Class 1-A Heroics. The news received a positive, if mixed, response from the students. Most of them didn’t hate the man, he was the number one hero after all! But they couldn’t exactly excuse his actions or his lack of credentials. Something the professors were clearly loath to admit had become an issue in their very first class.

All Might, the hero, had always inspired a feeling of safety in them as children. Just his presence could lower the crime rates! But the All Might they had seen? He wasn’t the man they had been expecting. And isn’t that the issue? A voice whispered venomously in the back of Yaoyorozu’s mind. We all saw All Might the man for the first time.

Everyone was on edge with the news they had received that morning. The position had been filled. They would be having their heroics class. The door slid to the side with a silent click as it met the wall and Yaoyorozu was one of the first to recognize Aizawa as he stepped through the door frame. Silence spread across the room as the students recognized who stepped through. They had barely known the professor for a week, but they all knew he wanted them quiet when he entered the classroom.

A young woman stepped in behind him before silently taking up a place next to the podium. She was of average height with large dusky green eyes complimenting her dark, shoulder-length, moss green hair. Sharply pointed teeth showed through her nervous smile, but to her relief, the class attention wasn’t on her. It was on the young man that had stepped in last after her.

Both Kyoka and Himiko attempted to stand, only for Midoriya to silently gesture for them to sit back down. He closed the door behind himself with a seemingly deafening clack. “I’m sure you all have a good number of questions.” Aizawa’s gruff voice began as he drew the class's attention back to him. “But Midoriya is going to answer them. Don’t wake me up unless it’s an emergency.”

Midoriya sighed. Not even a minute in and Aizawa was asleep. Midoriya couldn’t blame the man with his sleeping schedule, but he could at least stay awake long enough to be the face of the administration with this news. Instead of saying anything to the man, Midoriya instead grabbed one of the spare chairs and dragged it to the front center of the room with a grinding screech, his eyes locked with Aizawa’s bland stare the entire way. It was petty, but it made him feel better.

“As Aizawa was saying, I’m sure you all have questions. Let’s answer the obvious one first, shall we? This is Setsuna Tokage. Originally a student of your sister class, she is now your fellow classmate. For reasons I’m sure you’ll gather later during training, her quirk was deemed unsuitable for Vlad King to train. Take care of her as you would each other. Now, for the next announcement.”

There was a dramatic pause as Midoriya directed Setsuna to her new desk and as he took a seat in his own chair. “From this point on, I’ll be one of the people teaching the 1-A heroics course.” The reaction of shock was immediate, then the confusion and disbelief followed that, and finally, several students had looks of rejection on their faces. “I can assure you that, no, this isn’t some elaborate joke by the faculty. The president insisted that I assist the course after finding out about my background.”

Kyoka shot a confused look at Himiko, even as Ashido threw her hand in the air. “Ooo! Ooo! What is it, Midori? You seemed really on top of it during… well, you know.” The girl's energy tapered off as she realized what she was referring to. “But we know practically nothing about you! You're some big shot inventor, but that’s it.”

The air that had stagnated at the mention of the battle trial froze at Midoriya’s hardened response. “Military.”

Another ripple of shock spread across the room. Kyoka nearly came out of her chair, and Yaoyorozu openly gaped. Kaminari looked around the room, confused, and was the first one to speak as if he didn’t understand. “What? It's really cool that Midoriya’s already served. You know, protect and serve and all that? Kind of like being a hero. Actually, if that’s the case, what are you doing here?”

Iida spoke up next, his voice soft even as his face scrunched up. “The issue isn’t that he served, Kaminari, it's that he’s only eighteen. It doesn’t add up. How-?”

Midoriya allowed the conversation to continue for another minute before sighing and cutting it off. “It’s something I’m not going to be talking about. Suffice it to say, I have the experience required to help teach this class.”

“Or the faculty came up with an excuse to put him in charge.” Heads turned slowly to Sero, who simply threw his hands in the air. “What? We’re all thinking that this is a load of bullsh*t. I'm just the only one who seems willing to say it!” The class all shuffled awkwardly in their seats while Todoroki simply accepted it. That amount of bloodlust doesn’t just come from nowhere.

“Let me assure you of something, Sero. I am a lot of things, and you can call me whatever you like. But I am not a liar.” The classroom sucked in a collective breath as the temperature dipped. Midoriya adjusted his black uniform jacket as he stood from the chair he’d been seated in. “I’ll misdirect people. I'll omit information. I’ll twist the answers I give them. Hell, I’ll even tell you that I’m unwilling to discuss something. But, I don’t lie.”

Midoriya scanned the class with cool eyes before he smiled and let the tension melt from his shoulders. The atmosphere relaxed, and several students sucked in air while others simply stared at him with wide eyes. “So, that being said, here’s the truth of the matter. Nedzu doesn’t believe that truth is conducive to the creation of heroes, and frankly, I agree with him. This society is terrible in so many ways. Something that most of you wouldn’t learn until your third year at minimum, or even worse, you wouldn’t learn it until you're in the field.”

Silently, Midoriya picked the chair up, walking it back to its original position as he spoke. “Nedzu considers this class to be his great experiment with retention. Will the knowledge break you? How many of you will make it to the field once you know and aren’t trapped in your career?”

Midoriya stepped back to the center of the room, standing at attention in front of a class of men and women that were barely adults. Practically still children. “I say that those of you who would become heroes despite that knowledge are the very kind of people that should be defending humanity. Who will make the better heroes? Those trained like everyone else? Or those taught contrary to the ideals of glitz and glamor?”

“It's been dediced that we'll train you all as soldiers. We'll teach you the truth of this society. The things that the commission would rather no one know, no one realize. We'll train you as field medics and teach each of you how to survive in hazardous situations. You’ll be given what you need to succeed, but it will be all of your responsibilities to take action and use that knowledge to become the people you wish to be. The heroes you wish to be.”

Silence washed over the room. The weight of Midoriya’s words rested heavily in the air, the implications weighing even heavier on the students' shoulders. Everyone jolted in their seats when Shinsou spoke. Both his eyes and voice were hard, but the question was on each of their minds. “And the president of one of the top three hero schools in the world approved this?”

Midoriya’s eyes were sad when he spoke. “Oh, Shinsou. The president is one of the most dangerous entities at this school, if not Japan. He practically jumped for joy when I gave him a legitimate way to experiment on humans.” Aizawa winced from his sleeping bag. That wasn’t quite the truth, but it wasn’t a lie, either. He wanted to interject and say that wasn’t true. That Nedzu had rebelled against the idea. But he had seen the excitement in the president's eyes when Midoriya submitted his recommended additions to the teaching plan. He’d heard them debating the demerits of their society before, so that wasn’t a lie, either. The argument against Midoriya had been token at best, and a piece of Aizawa’s mind went back to Midoriya’s stiff body and Nedzu yelling at All Might. Just how much did he know about his boss?

“The rest of this week and the next, we’ll be working on basic conditioning. Following that, we’ll mix in basic combat training and the first of our lectures.” Aizawa jolted when Midoriya’s hand reached into his sleeping back, and his eyes snapped open to glare at the boy until he caught sight of the stack of papers in his hands. When the hell did he get those in here?

“For those of you that can’t stand the idea of being taught by someone your age, or those of you that don’t want to be trained in such a way, these are withdrawal forms. Grab one and go submit it to the administration. The rest of you, get changed into your gym clothing.” Midoriya’s lips twitched into a snarl of a smile. “We’re going to be running today. Ah, and Pony, stay behind, please. I’ll run through it again with you in English since this is important.”

A chill ran down their spines, and Kyoka blanched as it finally sank in for her. Midoriya’s going to be teaching us. He was just given free reign to train us properly to his standard. Oh god. Before anyone else could say anything, she was already moving for the doors, mildly ill. Himiko practically skipped up behind her, eyes gleaming and a psychotic smile gracing her lips.

Slowly, painfully, the class made their decisions, and Midoriya had to give them credit. Not a single one of them took the easy way out. Ashido, Kaminari, Asui, and Sero had taken withdrawal forms with them just in case, but that was well within expectations. “Well, Aizawa. We’ve got a mighty fine class this year, haven't we?”

“Uh, Midori?” Midoriya glanced over and was momentarily confused when he found nothing. It was only when, on instinct, his implants started cycling through imaging layers in his vision that it clicked. There was a floating uniform in front of him.

“Oh. What do you need Hagakure?”

“Uhm. What you spoke of before, training us like that? I’m not really that in shape compared to everyone else, and I don’t think my quirk is really all that useful for this.”

Midoriya quirked an eyebrow. “Hagakure, we're doing this because no one except for maybe Jiro or Toga is, in our opinion, sufficiently in shape for the training Aizawa and myself will be giving you. You’ll all be suffering equally soon enough.”

“I’m not really sure if that’s comforting or not.”

“As for your quirk, you’ll never be a frontline fighter like Todoroki or Setsuna. But then again, you knew that already. Trust me, when it comes to stealth training, you’ll see why I value your quirk apparently higher than you do.”

“Oh. Okay. I guess I’ll join the others then… Oh! How is Uraraka? Did the surgery go alright?”

“Oh, she’s fine. In fact, she’ll probably be joining you all at the start of next week.” Midoriya was startled at the sheer decibel the girl was able to reach as she rushed out of the room, assumingly to inform her classmates. “Are we sure that she doesn’t have some kind of sound quirk? Ah, yes. Sorry, Pony.”

…

The sensation started out innocently enough. A warmth spreading across her skin and spider webs of impression scoring down her back like sharp fingernails dragging across sensitive skin. The sensation stayed like that for some time. Like a mother’s embrace, holding her consciousness in a deep twilight. She was there, she could think, but it wasn’t quick. Or was it? Time passed so strangely here. One second was an eternity. Or was it an eternity that was but the blink of an eye? A semipermeable membrane of recognition that granted her peace rather than the suffocation of suppression.

Nothing lasts forever, the good or the bad. Warmth turned into burning. Fingernails into razors, scoring her flesh. Deep gashes that seethed in the nonlight. Shadows writhed as an embrace turned into the harsh struggle of strangulation. Suspension became freefall. And nothing became an alien sky bathed in the light of a blue star. A crash surrounded her as glass bit into her back, and the impact of meat and marble knocked her back into slumber.

…

When Uraraka next opened her eyes, what greeted her wasn’t the green of medical gelatin that Midoriya had warned her that she would awaken breathing. It wasn’t even the polycarbonate of the tube she knew she was to be placed in. Instead, what greeted Uraraka was an unfamiliar marble ceiling and a shattered skylight, lit by flaming wall sconces and a deep azure star engulfing the sky.

Feeling came back to her in waves. The cool, dry air running across her face. The feeling of glass stabbing into her back, and for the first time in days, the feeling of a cool surface against the back of her heels. Then came the sound of humming. A tune low and instinctual that she had heard before. It spurred Uraraka to roll over, out of the pile of glass, and onto her front. Even as she pushed to her feet, she groaned. I feel like I’ve been hit by a bag of bricks. Wait.

Uraraka’s eyes snapped to the ground, even as she took another step down the hallway leading to… well, she didn’t know where. I have feet again. My legs are back. I can fee-

Her face scrunched into confusion as her eyes zeroed in on the nearly invisible seams at her joints, appearing only as she took another step. Not her legs, she realized, but something close? She felt as if she’d known these legs practically longer than her real ones that were taken so long befor-

That wasn’t right, either. She had just lost her legs, hadn’t she? For that matter, what was this place? How had she gotten here? Uraraka sucked in a breath, as she impacted the railing of the stair landing. As she looked down across the rails Uraraka took in her surroundings for the first time beyond the ceiling and sky.

White marble, or something similar to it, gleamed its polished splendor from wherever she looked. The landing, the stairs leading upwards into an endless spiral and down into the ground floor, all shone. Each floor segmented into four… no eight… no twelve… Uraraka winced. The longer she focused on a floor the more corridors of bookshelves seemed to appear, and her head was splitting as it was. Wait.

Uraraka’s head snapped around to the hallway she had come from and found that it, too, was lined with books on either side. Ages all seemed to vary and all bound with different materials. The trail of her blood led into the distance, and she couldn’t make out where she had originally come from. Had she walked that far?

Humming once again caught her attention. Deep and primal, once again, the tune resonated somewhere in her brain. She could have sworn she had heard it before, but where? She took a step towards it again. Taking a step downwards towards the floor below, the world shifted and Uraraka stumbled. Her hands found purchase on the lip of a stone fountain, and as she looked up, she found the statue of an owl… no, a crane… a crow?

Again, Uraraka winced as she dragged her eyes away from the statue’s sapphire ones. The sound of fractals shifting, clinking, chiming, shifted Uraraka’s attention and had her spinning and pressing her back into the fountain. In front of her, not but a handful of paces, stood a woman, staring at her. Through her, really. Her features were plain by any standard, but her crisp inhuman silver eyes, like the first frost of autumn, made up for that as they contrasted with her shoulder-length black hair. Down her body was a full-length white cloth, billowing around her. The pure alabaster disturbed only by a spotted pelt shawl of some kind, draped around her shoulders.

She wore no expression and tilted her head as she observed Uraraka. “Who are you? You a-” Fractals of light and sound collided again as suddenly the woman was a step closer. Her head tilted the opposite way. “You are hu- human, aren’t you? It has been so long since one of your kind visited here, you know? Wh- what are you doing here, you- young one?”

Uraraka felt her breath catch in her throat each time the figure jilted her words only to restart a second later. “I- I don’t know. Where am I? Who are you?”

“How in- interesting, young one. Who am I? I do not really recall anymore. I have been the keeper of this place for so- so long. So many names I have been called. If you must call me anything, though… hmm, call me Nosis.”

Uraraka felt her lungs once again seize as the woman’s head tilted and her eyes unfocused, as if listening to some distant sound only she could hear. “I am afraid that as much as I would love to socialize with my first guest in so long, it would appear that we are short on time, young one.”

The woman appeared in front of her, mere inches between them with a seeming screech from the air around her. Uraraka’s brain wanted to shut down, and her instinct shrieked at her to run. To flee, that there was danger. Instead, Uraraka remained frozen as the woman spoke. “An affirmation of who you are, young one. I see the sadness behind your eyes. Know your story that makes me weep for your pride and strength that drives you to be the best you can be. It is that strength that people are drawn to, it protects you, makes you strong. But don’t allow yourself to spurn aid, as your brothers and sisters will be the only thing that gets you through the days to come.”

Uraraka felt like hyperventilating as the silver eyes bore into hers, as if viewing the depths of her soul. But the air wouldn’t come as the woman tilted her head once again. “Do find your way back sometime. You look like you are going to be such an interesting story. But for now,” the woman reached up and pressed a finger against Uraraka’s forehead and pushed. Uraraka felt what air was left rush from her lungs as her back hit the water of the fountain with an impossible force. Her consciousness slipped away, and as she left that inconceivable athenaeum, she heard the woman's last word like a whisper through her mind. Awaken.

Chapter 39: Chapter #38 | Edge of the Nova

Chapter Text

Midoriya watched his fellow students trickle out onto the field, the earliest ones fidgeting the most by the time the rest had joined them. “Alright, everyone.” Midoriya projected his voice across the field. “It’s the second week of April, and we have a lot of work to do if you’re going to be in any shape when we begin combat and quirk lessons.”

Tokage raised her hand, speaking when Midoriya gestured for her to do so. “When exactly will that be? 1-B was about to begin combat training with All Might when I got transferred.” Class 1-A shuffled in place at the mention of All Might and a low growl could be heard coming from Toga. Tokage looked around, confused, even as Midoriya grunted.

“All Might is a moron. Let me answer your question with one of my own. Who here feels they can run two miles without stopping?” About half the class raised their hands. “And of you that raised your hands, how many feel they can do it without slowing down or stopping?” Several students lowered their hands. “Finally, how many of you think that you can do it in under ten minutes?”

Class 1-A jolted and finally, after Mashijiao dropped his hand, he was left with four. Midoriya narrowed his eyes at Iida. “Without your quirk, Iida.” After a second, hesitating with indecision, Iida lowered his hand. Three and a half then. “Kyoka and Himiko can because I’ve pushed them during training for years. Todoroki, I’m sure, has had… training, as well.” Todoroki stiffened and stared blankly forward. “The rest of you have work to do, because that’s the minimum requirement for the new course.” Mashijiao’s face contorted in puzzlement. “You look confused, Mashijiao.”

“Mmm. Isn’t- isn’t even the JSDF minimum requirement for males our age only sixteen minutes?” Eyes shifted to stare at Mashijiao as Midoriya raised an eyebrow. He blushed, tail twitching. “I thought about joining up before I decided to be a hero.” He muttered the words, but Midoriya felt his assessment of the man raise even as he nodded.

“You are correct. Even with the outdated standards, the military minimum is much lower than mine.” More muttering around the class. “But you aren’t aiming to be military. You aren’t aiming to be police. Technically, you aren’t even aiming to be federal agents. You are aiming to be the supposed pinnacle of our society, the best of the best in the eyes of people who think you’re supposed to be capable of defending them, no matter the odds. No matter the opponent. No matter the situation.” Midoriya pinned the class with his gaze. “That begins with what you are going to consider to be overkill.”
“And if we can’t reach your minimum? Kero.” The question came from a straight-faced Tsuyu, but the question was echoed in the minds of her fellow students. All of them were thinking of Aizawa’s expulsion threat.

Midoriya shrugged. “You all will. This isn’t something I expect you to reach in a week. Some of you will, of course, but not all of you. We’ll work on it. We have three years. Three years to turn this class into young men and women capable of protecting what’s in front of them. We’ll be working on your fitness levels this week. Endurance, strength, flexibility, and balance are all things we’ll be pushing this week. Next week, we’ll start working on the basics of combat, as well as starting our lecture portion. We’ll work on your quirks after that and on integrating them into your personal combat styles. Until then, however, no using your quirks. For now,” Midoriya gestured to the tables behind him in the center of the field, “you’ll all be working on fitness. Grab a canteen and clip it to your gym uniforms. There’s one for each of you, and you’ll be drinking at least two canteens worth before the end of the class. If you want or think you need more, drink it. Don’t, however,” Midorya pinned them all with a stare, “overdrink. None of you had better dehydrate, and if any of you end up with water toxemia, Recovery Girl will have all of our asses. Keep an eye on each other. Any questions?”

Ashido raised her hand and, voice full of hope, asked, “Since we’re not starting lectures yet, does that mean the class is shorter?” Midoriya's smile was sharp when he chuckled.

“Not at all. You’ll all be running for the next four hours with no breaks except for liquids.” The class blanched and Kaminari began to sputter.

Tsunotori frowned. “How is possible? That doesn’t sound health.” Midoriya ignored the broken Japanese. It would get better the longer she was here, and it was close enough he could understand her. Before he could explain, Mezo, with an eye on the two large water coolers next to the canteens, asked his question.

“Would it have anything to do with the two different coolers, Professor?” Midoriya shuddered slightly.

“Observant of you. Yes, it does. But don’t call me that. It’s weird coming from the people who are still technically my classmates.”

“You are also technically our teachers assistant, sir.” Midoriya’s eye twitched, but he sighed.

“Sir, if you have to. Aizawa’s your professor for this class.”

“Yes, sir.”

Midoriya stared before speaking again. “As Mezo so aptly observed, the coolers have two different colors and have two different liquids. If you want normal water, go to orange. It’s a bit tweaked with electrolytes and such, but it’s fairly bog-standard.”

Sero warily eyed the other cooler. “And the other one, Midoriya?”

“The red one is technically medical in nature, but is my personal recommendation. It’ll help you along in the conditioning process. It’ll help repair the torn muscle fibers from training, relieve fatigue, etcetera, etcetera. The drawback is that you are going to be very hungry after training if you use that one. If you want to use it, there is a waver beside it.”

Kirishima spoke up this time. “Uh, not that it doesn’t sound great, but are you actually recommending us doping?”

“Not in the slightest.” Both Midoriya’s eyes and voice were flat when he spoke. “And if any of the faculty here catch you doing so, you’ll be expelled from the hero course. Am I understood?” The class nodded and he let the tension from the question bleed away. “The way it works, Kirishima, is through the accelerated use of your own bodies' available materials. Hence why I said you’d be hungry, but I suppose that was an understatement. If you use that, expect to find yourself eating somewhere in the realm of a fifteen thousand calorie dinner, followed by a five thousand calorie midnight snack.” The class's eyes practically bulged out of their heads at even the prospect of that much food. “Come on, then. Grab your canteens and start running. Chop chop."

Much of the class hesitated after grabbing their canteens. Several, such as Sero, immediately went for the orange cooler. Others, such as Jiro and Toga, went straight for the red cooler. The class watched as they filled their canteen with the viscous liquid that came out. Jiro turned around to find eyes latching onto her and her canteen. She shrugged. “Midoriya wouldn’t harm us. If he says it’ll help, it’ll help.” Jiro clipped the canteen to her gym clothes before turning and taking off after Toga, who was already running.

…

Midoriya watched his classmates struggle to put one foot in front of the other with some small part of him feeling gleeful. The majority, however, just felt pity. If they were struggling just two hours in, they might lose a student or two by the time a week was up. It was Thursday, and their rest day wasn’t until Sunday.

Phoenix’s voice cut through his thoughts and overshadowed even the desperate panting of Kaminari and the angry swearing of Tokage. Izuku. There is a problem at the-

Midoriya’s phone buzzed and interrupted her. He pulled it quickly, tapping for the call to come through. Only a handful of people had the number, and they wouldn’t have called without a reason. The voice on the other end turned out to be the chief of the biotechnical division, Ishii Mai. “What’s happening, Ishii?”

The question was short and to the point, just as he knew the stoic woman preferred. Just as he preferred. “Uraraka is waking up.”

Midoriya’s eyes widened slightly. Even if someone had been paying attention, they wouldn’t have noticed. Only those closest to him had a chance of that. “What. How the hell? That’s way too early. f*ck. I’ll be right there.”

Aizawa was peering at him through squinted eyes from the tree he was resting against. “Just where ar-”

“Uraraka.”

“Go. I’ll make sure they finish the class out.”

…

Hatsume was tossing Midoriya his lab coat even as he stepped into the building. They strode across the lobby and up the stairs at a brisk pace. Part of Midoriya regretted at that moment installing as many security checkpoints as he did, even though part of him knew they were important.

Midoriya was calling for a status report even as he walked into his branch of the building. “Sprite, why the hell is she waking up.”

A young, cheerfully panicked voice came from the speakers as Midoriya moved directly towards Uraraka’s tank. Sprite had been delegated the tasks of a medical A.I. when Midoriya and Hatsume had created the second generation. Phoenix could only handle so much at once, and having subordinates of her own specialized in their respective fields had provided the much-needed relief to her A.I. core.

“Something is flushing her system as fast as I can give her barbiturates. Pentobarbital, phenobarbital, thiopental, secobarbital. I’m trying multiple, but they aren’t having any effect. It’s like the drugs disappear as soon as they get into Uraraka’s system.”

Alarms sounded as Uraraka’s eyelids fluttered. Midoriya was already giving the orders to drain the tank and pull her when she started thrashing. He was disconnecting the attached wiring when she started seizing. “f*ck,” Midoriya practically growled the word, even as he set Uraraka down on the gurney and rolled her onto her side. “Ten milligrams midazolam,” Midoriya called out to the others before contemplating what Sprite had relayed about the barbiturates disappearing. “Ten milligrams diazepam on standby.” Just in case benzodiazepines start disappearing too.

The room let out a collective breath as the seizures didn’t resume. Midoriya sighed, rubbing his brow in a futile attempt to ease the tension headache building there, swallowing to remove the blood collecting in the back of his throat. Mei’s not wrong. It really seems to be one thing after another lat-

The screaming started soon after and the room was right back on edge. His employees grabbed morphine as he called for it. Uraraka’s eyes were open now as they bore into Midoriya’s, her irises fluorescent pink and glowing. She sputtered and sucked in air between screams. She choked on the words as they came out, but out they came even as she screamed. “The void calls, and it’s a call to return home. It wants you back.”

Midoriya sucked in a breath even as his skin became clammy. Panic lanced through him as his senses screamed into overdrive, looking for any threat. “Oh Celestial Mother, infinite light of the world-” Again Midoriya sucked in a breath as Hatsume’s head snapped to him, her mouth half opened in question before he came back to himself. His eyes wide, he shook his head at her. Later, he mouthed.

The screams became less and less common as he injected the morphine, which in turn became pained whimpers as Uraraka opened her eyes again. Her gaze darted around, catching the eyes of the workers before finally landing back on Midoriya. Her irises, blessedly returned to their normal brown, watered with misery, and Uraraka’s voice croaked out, dry and ragged. “It- burns- hurts- I-”

“Shhh. You’re alright, Uraraka. Everything’s fine. You are awake a bit earlier than we expected, but everything is fine.” Midoriya said it as much to calm Uraraka as to calm himself. Familiar words and familiar treatments. She whimpered again, and Midoriya winced. This was more than just a secondary nervous system to get used to, and it was more than simply getting used to new limbs. The nanites were still integrating. Still tearing apart pieces of her to replace with biomechanical bridges.

Quietly, Midoriya explained that they would be moving Uraraka to a proper hospital bed and wheeled the gurney over to it. When she just stayed curled in on herself without responding, he signaled for his other coworkers as they picked up the sheet and shifted her into the bed. Even that small movement was enough to send agony lancing through Uraraka’s body. Midoriya carefully attached the equipment back to Uraraka, even as she cried at the contact. With orders to the division to do what they could to keep her comfortable, Midoriya turned his back on his classmate and left the lab.

…

Hatsume had followed him from the lab. She had followed him when he’d walked into the common area, the eyes of staff members on break tracking them across the room. She had followed him up the stairs, into the apartment hallways and then finally into his own apartment, but it wasn’t until the door was closed behind them that Hatsume spoke. “What was that?”

“Uraraka wasn’t supposed to wake up this early. When she did, the sudden impulse from the construction of the redundant nervo-”

“Not that, Izuku. I helped you design it. I can guess as to the seizures.”

“Oh, the screaming then. That’s fairly ob-”

“Not that, either.” Hatsume’s flat expression turned into a frown. “You’re avoiding the question. You know what I’m asking. That wasn’t any language I’ve heard from you before.”

Midoriya swallowed before turning to the woman. The panic had subsided, but the fingers of it still scratched at his psyche, begging to reassert itself. “Do you remember the dual encryption cypher I showed you for our more sensitive projects?”

Hatsume’s brows scrunched. “Of course I remember it. We use it constantly, and it took me weeks to learn.”

“Yeah, well, there's a good reason for that. That was the spoken form of one-half of the encryption.”

Hatsume was confused for half a second before the realization struck her. “The cypher is using languages from your time on the other side.”

Midoriya winced. “I really wish you wouldn’t call it that. You make it sound like I was dead.”

“Well, you did die.”

“Not helping, Mei.”

“Right. But what caused that reaction? I’ve never heard you speak…,” Hatsume paused, searching for a name and realizing that she had never gotten one, “whatever that language is. Was it what Uraraka said? You know as well as I do that she isn’t lucid. Beyond even the amount of drugs in her system, we both know drug interactions can cause insane sh*t. Hell, just the combination of midazolam and morphine can cause-”

“I’ve heard those words before, Mei.” Something in Midoriya’s tone had Mei shutting up. It was cold and clipped with the tinge of shadowed memories. “The acolytes of the Black Tower would say things like that when they were dying.” Midoriya gritted his teeth, clenching his fists, even as he stared at the floor. “When we turned into monsters to fight monsters and butchered them in their homes.”

Hatsume’s voice was soft then, hesitant to speak of things she didn’t know of. “You were fighting a war, Izu.” She placed her hand on his bicep. “Besides, Black Tower? Sounds pretty evil to me.”

Midoryia’s laugh wasn’t a happy one. It was a bark that was more misery than amusem*nt. “It was called that because the damn stone was a gabbro and basalt mixture. They were gods damned civilians, Mei. Librarians, archivists, scribes that had foresight magic. We butchered them because they were a threat to our plans.”

“Woah woah woah, back up. Magic? Wait no. Not important at the moment. I’m confused. If they were a bunch of clerks, then why were they spouting off about the void?”

Midoriya groaned and paced away, head in his hands, before plopping down into a seat. “That’s two complicated questions I don’t really want to cover.”

Hatsume shifted and sat down beside him. “We have time. It’ll be a good few hours before Uraraka adjusts and isn’t practically catatonic.”

“Assuming she doesn’t lose her mind,” Midoriya muttered darkly. He sighed. “The Holy Pantheon is one of the only things the human race shared amongst itself. The void was,” Midoriya paused for a long moment. “A topic in its scripture.” Hatsume didn’t push him on it. For now, at least.

“As for magic, I suppose the word’s a bit of a misnomer. It was more ritualistic, borrowing on the power of extraplanar entities, using a set of actions. We called it magic because, frankly, it was pretty magical. But besides that, mythology always indicated that sometime before, there had been something closer to what we call magic, but-” Midoriya looked up to find Hatsume staring blankly at him, as if he’d grown a second head. He sighed again. “Where did I lose you?”

“Extraplanar entities.”

Midoriya cursed under his breath. At least it’s Mei I’m explaining this to. “Human belief is a very strong thing, Mei,” Midoriya explained. “You get enough people believing the same thing hard enough and poof. They aren’t gods, per say. Outside of their realms, they have almost no power.”

“And inside of them?”

“There, they practically are gods, able to bend and shape reality to their will.”

Hatsume tilted her head while her nose scrunched up in that cute way Midoriya was so used to. “What else do you know about these entities?”

Midoriya rubbed his eyes. “Unfortunately, sweet f*ck all. That’s about all I was able to glean from the Elysium Installation records. There was plenty of documentation theoretically, but files were damaged. Hard copies were destroyed. Frankly, I’m lucky there was enough to piece together that The Cataclysm and The Armont Crisis the facility was built to research weren’t the same thing.”

“You aren’t telling me something here, Izu. How does this relate to Uraraka?”

“I’m not telling you a lot of things, Mei. Some things are better forgotten and left buried. As for Uraraka, well, I don’t like the thought, but she seems to be more attuned to the veil than others. Which, for the earth, is saying something. She’s the first I’ve met here like that. She should be fine as long as no one teaches her to make use of that particular trait, and since no one except for me could even begin to do so…”

Midoriya trailed off, leaving the two of them in silence. Midoriya to contemplate the philosophical nature of things and Hatsume to absorb the conversation. It was several moments before Hatsume’s nose scrunched again and her eyes widened in excitement. “Wait. WAIT. You said the human race shared. Were there others? Were there elves?”

Midoriya thought back to the fae he had encountered, as well as the singular half-elf. He groaned again before dragging the word theoretically out. Hatsume squealed.

Chapter 40: Chapter #39 | Daughter of Tomorrow

Chapter Text

Midoriya rolled to the side and off his bed, coughing and clawing at his own throat. Even as his fingernails dug into skin and his lungs heaved, Midoriya fought to anchor himself to the present. He had known sleep was a terrible idea. It always was. But if there ever was a time for him to be alert, it was with a patient screaming her own lungs out just a floor below him.

Midoriya’s hands came down to the ground for a moment before he pushed himself to his feet and groped for the bottle of water he kept on the nightstand. He took the first drink as he crossed the room towards the bathroom. It was spit into the sink in a vain attempt to wash the taste of bloodied mud from his mouth. The second he swallowed, if only to give his own raw throat some kind of relief.

Midoriya’s words croaked out. “Lights on. Fifteen percent.” Well, I look like sh*t, don’t I? A dry, mirthless chuckle escaped his lips as he stared at himself in the mirror. The scratches he’d given himself were already scabbing over, and in some of the areas where he’d only gotten skin, and had not dug into his muscle, the long lines were already disappearing. Blood dripped from his mouth where he’d bitten into his own tongue and lips.

Most telling of all were his eyes. Just because he could function on as little sleep as he got, didn’t mean he enjoyed it. Nor did it mean that it didn’t show in places. His eyes were one of those places. He’d have to disguise those before heading down. It was already hypocritical of him to get onto Hatsume about her health, and if she saw how he looked currently, then he’d never hear the end of it.

Any damage done to him just healed back seamlessly as if it had never happened, Midoriya thought bitterly as he brushed his teeth. The sun wasn’t even up yet, and it had long gone down when he’d finally succumbed to the siren call of sleep. It didn’t matter how much he trashed his own body, a little bit of suffering was all it would cause in the end. He could deal with a little bit of suffering. You could make Mei the same. You could stop worrying. Midoriya didn’t even entertain the thought.

...

Midoriya stepped into the workshop, only to sigh as he spotted Hatsume face down on one of the workbenches. Silently, Midoriya sidled up beside the sleeping girl and glanced down at what she’d been working on. There on the bench sat a series of silver rings sized to fit snugly around the wrists and ankles. Two of the bands seemed to be ready for trial as two small red LEDs glowed dimly in the low light of the early morning.

He could appreciate the girl's work ethic, even if he did worry about the effect he was having on her behavior. Hatsume had always been driven. Her family couldn’t help but go on about how Mei would spend hours, days sometimes, in the garage building gadgets. She’d planned on making hero tools to gain the funding to pursue her passion. Helping actual people, not just the elite of the world. She was doing that, Midoriya couldn’t deny it. Just the big-name inventions they’d worked on together, the reactor, the prosthetics, were changing the world.

Where Midoriya had become a name synonymous with the medical field, and well known inside it, Hatsume was rapidly becoming both a household and an infrastructure name with so many patents for small quality of life gadgets and for larger devices in development. Midoriya had seen the blueprints for some of the mechanical divisions' bigger projects, after all. He was so proud of her and knew that even if something happened to him, Hatsume would be more than capable of changing the world.

Even as Midoriya picked the girl up in his arms, for the umpteenth time, and began to make his way to their common area, his thoughts turned back to his concerns. How many times had he carried the girl away from her work? Had he given Hatsume access to all of these resources too soon? Would she have matured without him? Would she have been more conscientious of her own health? Or if she’d had to make her own way to this point, would she simply be more bitter? Have lost the spark that made her Hatsume? Gently, Midoriya placed the girl down and, after a moment of hesitation, sighed before placing his hand on her head and whispering, “Sleep well, Mei.”

Turning back to the workshop, Midoriya quietly thanked Phoenix for opening the doors for him and Hatsume. Phoenix chirped an affirmative even as Midoriya stepped back into the workshop and began walking towards the forge. He needed to pick up the materials for yet another prototype for his weapons research. The last coilgun prototype had practically exploded when they'd hooked it up to its power source.

“What you did to that girl is cruel.” Midoriya jolted before cursing and turning.

“Oh good, you’re talking again. Here I thought that you might stay quite a little longer.” Shimura’s grimace hid nothing from Midoriya as she stood beside the door, her arms crossed across her chest. “Where have you been, anyway? I lost track of you after we returned.”

“I’ve been watching young Uraraka. Somebody had to.” The tone, bitter and accusing, told him all he needed to know about what she thought of Midoriya’s actions.

“There is someone watching,” Midoriya said stiffly. “Sprite is always watching Uraraka’s condition. Were there anything I needed to be concerned of, she would have dealt with it and or alerted me.”

“Oh yes, that’s definitely what a doctor should do. Inflict agony on his patient and leave their care to a machine.”

“I don’t have to justify my actions to you, Shimura. She requested the surgery, even after I warned her of the side effects.” Midoriya turned again, intent on ignoring the woman.

“You went too far.” It was a simple sentence. An accusation that struck closer to home than he cared for it to. Any other time, he would have just brushed off the allegation. Further than just the surgery strictly called for, not nearly as far as she had requested. Didn’t have to. Shouldn’t have. Should have. She had requested…

Midoriya spun and exploded. “You do not get to judge me!” Where his words before had been clinical and stiff, his words now were white-hot fury. Lips pulled back into an animalistic snarl, even as his eyes glowed. “WHAT would you have had me do? Hmm? Should I have simply put in the standard cybernetics? Knowing she was going to be heading onto a battlefield? Should I have left her nervous system to burn out from the overuse of what would otherwise likely be deadly equipment? Should I have not given her the most basic of upgrades that would ensure she wouldn’t kill herself trying to learn how to f*cking WALK AGAIN?”

Midoriya stalked across the room towards Shimura and stabbed a finger in her direction. “Oh wait, no, I know. I shouldn’t have given her any of it. I should have left a young woman with that much potential crippled and wallowing in her own self-pity so that your f*ck UP of a student could somehow come to fix the mistake he made.” Midoriya leaned forward now, getting into Shimura’s face. “Is that what you want? Hmm? Some way to alleviate the guilt of your own part in this gods damned mess?”

Shimura took a step back, startled briefly, but it was Shimura’s turn now to discard the veneer of calm that she had been showing up until now. “Oh, how magnanimous of you, Midoriya. What a wonderful hero you’ll become. You could have delayed her reentry into the classes. Could have, as her doctor, told her she was physically unfit until you fixed her. You didn’t need to do things this quickly. You just wanted to see if you could, didn't you? Like some kind of mad god damn scientist.”

“You don’t know anything, and how many times do I have to tell you people, I am not, nor will I ever be, a damn he-”

“Uh, Izuku?” The quiet whisper in the cacophony of yelling had Midoriya’s jaw clicking shut and his head swinging to yell a WHAT at whatever was interrupting him. The word died in his throat when he saw the look of fear in Hatsume’s eyes.

“Sorry,” He choked out. “Just having an argument with our resident ghost.” Slowly, Hatsume crossed the workshop floor to grab him by the arm.

“Right, well both of you need to stop. The workshop's looking to be a mess soon.”

Huh? Both Midoriya and Shimura glanced around to find the room to be in a state of potential disaster. Materials and tools floated through the air lazily, as if they had simply decided their weight didn’t matter. All at once, it all dropped. Hatsume yelped, and Midoriya caught a piece of steel before it could bean her over the head. Warily, Midoriya turned back to Shimura. She gave him one horrified look before blinking out of existence.

Midoriya scowled again before muttering to himself. “Great. Make that poltergeist.”

…

Midoriya glanced at his overlay clock as he stepped into the biological suite. Just passed eight and already the employees were trickling out of the bunk room and into the building. Damn workaholics. There was a reason that they didn’t run like every other Japanese company. Burnout was a real bitch, and he didn’t need his top researchers getting burned out because they couldn’t grasp the concept of rest.

“Richmond, go home. Take a trip over to Tokyo. Unpack your stuff from the move. Check on Jenson. He’s not in… the best shape of his life. I don’t care. Just leave this building.”

Richmond’s head swiveled to look, wide-eyed, at his new boss. “But, sir, I’ve-”

Midoriya started shooing the man with his clipboard. “No. You’ve been here for three days. Go. Shoo.” Midoriya waited for the man to exit the room before calling after him. “And don’t come in tomorrow." Turning to his original task, Midoriya grimaced as he approached Uraraka, who was finally looking like the pain wasn’t overwhelming her senses. Quietly, Midoriya tapped one of his employees on the shoulder, having a brief conversation, before taking the fresh IV bag from their hands and walking over to her IV himself.

“At the risk of sounding superfluous, how are you feeling?”

“I feel like someone dipped me in pitch and lit me on fire.” Uraraka croaked the words, and Midoriya winced before replacing the GDS-3 bag on her IV.

“That is an unpleasant feeling. Good analogy. The good news is that it’s almost time for your painkillers. The bad news is that it’s also about time we get you in a wheelchair and introduce you to your new legs.”

“That’s going to hurt too, isn’t it?” Midoriya looked down at the girl and took in her gaunt, pained face.

“Yes, it probably will. It’s the first time the new pathways are going to be used. It’ll feel weird, and it’ll probably hurt. Were you fully recovered, I’d just give you something for the headache. But with things as they are…”

Uraraka closed her eyes briefly, took in a shuddering breath, and sighed. “Painkillers first?”

Midoriya gave her an encouraging thumbs up and a small smile before agreeing. “Painkillers first.”

…

The short trip from bed to a wheelchair had Uraraka seeing spots in her vision. When Midoriya had originally told her that this was going to hurt, she thought she’d been prepared for it. But this wasn’t something she could have been prepared for. It felt like she was dying.

Every inch of her felt like she was sitting inside of a furnace, and underneath her skin, it felt like there were millions of tiny bugs crawling around, ripping her apart piece by piece. Uraraka thought for a second before realizing that that was, basically, exactly what was happening.

“Where are we going for this?” Midoriya had just wheeled Uraraka out into the hallway when she'd asked the question.

“We’re just going over to the common room. Usually, you’d be sent to an outpatient facility for physical therapy, but by your own demands, we don’t have time for that. So that means more pain and a crash course in walking again.”

“I just want to get back to class and for things to get back to normal. Why do I need to relearn how to walk? I can still move just fine.” Uraraka demonstrated by wiggling her legs and wincing at the movement.

“Well, basically it boils down to-” Oh no, more technical talk. A door down the hallway exploded and something embedded itself in the wall across from it. Oh! Yes! A distraction.

Hatsume stalked out of the doorframe a moment later, waving her hand to clear the dust and grabbing at whatever it was that had embedded itself into the wall. A choking snort sounded just over her shoulder as Midoriya called down the hallway. “I see this variant's going well this time, huh?”

Hatsume scowled, finally tugging the object free of the wall and glaring back at the shattered door. Briefly, she huffed before pointing down the hallway at Midoriya with the object. Uraraka blanched when she realized it was the remains of a leg and foot. “At some point, I will get scramjet engines condensed and non-explosive.”

“Please tell me that isn’t going on me.” Both scientists glanced down at her wide eyes before Hatsume started chuckling darkly.

“Oh yes. You’re going to go flying.”

Midoriya plucked an eraser from his pocket before tossing it clean between Hatsume’s eyes. The girl staggered back dramatically. “No. You will not be using that. That is an early prototype. Not for human use.”

Hatsume pouted before smiling. “Sorry, just messing with you. No, these aren’t anywhere near ready for trials.” Hatsume tossed the leg to someone through the doorframe before shouting orders to break it down. “Your legs are in there, and I’ll be joining you.”

Midoriya shot up an eyebrow. “You aren’t needed in there?”

Hatsume shrugged. “Gotta go get another door from the storage, anyway.”

Uraraka threw up her hands, wincing. “Wait, wait, wait. This happens often enough that you have spare doors?”

Midoriya grinned, wheeling Uraraka into the common area. “I keep telling her that she should just replace it with a blast door but noooo. It’s too slow and annoying.”

Hatsume just shrugged before sitting down on one of the couches. “What? I know myself.”

“That you do, Mei. That you do.” Midoriya left Uraraka beside the counter and caught the black box tossed to him. “These are your legs for now.”

Uraraka opened the box and found two sleek, black legs, just her size. Unconsciously, the matte finish had Uraraka rubbing the leg for its texture. It was smooth, to her surprise. “Technically, they’re made of carbon fiber. Not so technically speaking, it’s a composite material of our own design. You’ll find it lighter even than aluminum and stronger than steel.”

Uraraka glanced at Midoriya as he finished speaking before tugging one from its foam prison and nearly throwing it in surprise. It is light. “How do I, you know, attach them?”

“Ah, see that white arrow about a quarter way from the front? Line that up with the front of the mechanical disks in your legs, insert, and twist right until you feel the click. The two devices will take care of the rest. Tried to make it simple.” Hatsume mimed a gesture that if Uraraka hadn’t known what she was mimicking, would have seemed crude.

Following Hatsume’s instruction, Uraraka placed the prosthetic against the disk, even as Hatsume discussed the exploding legs with Midoriya. Real comforting conversation here, guys. Hatsume’s eyes widened at something Midoriya said, excitedly jumping up just as Uraraka twisted the leg until the click. The pain was blinding. Someone was screaming. Oh, that’s me. The realization did little to dull the feeling, like she had just attached a live wire to her own body as the muscles in her right side seized. Moments later, what felt like an eternity for her, the pain began to clear up as the sensory overload began to be distributed through new channels. She felt popping all across her body, and suddenly, she felt better than she had even before she put on the new leg.

Uraraka’s vision cleared to find Midoriya giving her a pained smile and holding a trash can under her. Her head was between her legs, Uraraka belatedly realized, and someone was rubbing small circles on her back. “Sorry.” She croaked the word out.

Midoriya shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for. The first time is always the worst. That popping you felt? It was nerves waking up for the first time.”

“Why? Why did it hurt so much?” The voice was quiet and hesitant, as if she was worried asking the question would make her seem stupid.

“The fusion of biological material and mechanical material is a delicate process. One that comes with no small amount of pain during the process. Besides, your body needed to realize that it had new pathways, and that’s probably always going to hurt, regardless of what I do.”

“Did that little girl go through this, too?” Midoriya thought back to the Mutos' daughter and her excitement, even through her tears.

“Yes, she did. She was such a brave little girl.” Half-truths, Midoriya thought. The girl didn’t go through nearly the same process. “Would you like me to do the other one?” Midoriya asked quietly.

“No. No, I'll get it. Just, just give me a second. What were you two talking about just a moment ago?” Hatsume’s eyes widened.

“That's right! Xenon! XENON!” The young woman sprinted out of the room yelling the word, leaving Midoriya to explain.

Midoriya’s chuckle evolved into a full-throated chortle. “I swear that girl can’t sit still for any length of time.” Midoriya took a moment to compose himself. “It’s a gas, Uraraka. Xenon gas.”

Uraraka continued to stare blankly at Midoriya. “Well, yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Hmm. The technology development is long abandoned, just as so many others were when quirks first appeared. But it’s something that occurred to me when I thought about your quirk and flight. Don’t you think an ion drive might work great?”

“I have no idea what you just said, but I don’t want anything explosive on my legs.”

Midoriya nodded. “Well, that’s quite understandable.” Midoriya handed her the other leg. “Ready to go?” Uraraka grimaced and took the leg from him, then with a deep breath, lined up the arrow, and twisted.

Chapter 41: Chapter #40 | Fool’s Grave

Chapter Text

Groans echoed around the common area as their morning alarms began to ring out into the early morning silence. Mobile devices around the room chimed with a variety of tones that they were all quickly coming to hate. It had only been a couple days since Midoriya had started them on their training regime, and none of them were loving him, either. Especially since they hadn’t seen him since the first day.

“Urk. Ugh, come on everyone. Professor Aizawa will be down in a few minutes, and if we aren’t all moving when he does, he’ll replace homeroom with more calisthenics.” The majority of the class had collapsed into the common room the night before and hadn’t been able to summon the strength again to move into their own separate spaces.

“Oh come on, Momo. Five more minutes.” The pained moan from Ashido was met with aid from Mezo in pulling the woman to her knees first and then to her feet second. Even as she leaned against the large man, she groaned at her muscles' response.

Kaminari dragged himself from the floor, grimacing as his quirk sparked across his skin. Ojiro limped towards the bathroom, using his tail for support. Jiro and Toga watched quietly from their barstools in the kitchen as a swath of their class lugged themselves from various locations to begin the day. Toga smirked when she saw Sero lying still and staring deadly at the ceiling. “You may want to get moving, Elbows. You're gonna get chewed out at this pace.”

Sero groaned from his place on the ground before calling back. “f*ck you, Fangs.” Toga’s lips peeled back in a silent snarl, displaying her namesake. Sero grunted as he pulled himself to his feet, seemingly beginning a rant. “This is ridiculous. Look at this.” He gestured around the room to the haggard members of the class. “We’re barely a week into class and we can barely walk. Most of the class couldn’t even make it onto the elevator before they were asleep.”

Jiro raised her hands placatingly. “Look, I know it’s a rough routine at first, but-”

“No. This is insane! Just because you two are freaks when it comes to fitness doesn’t mean the rest of us should be able to keep up. Look at Iida!” Sero pointed to the man still lying face down on a pillow. “He can’t even get up, and god knows he’s more used to running than the rest of us. Midoriya isn't joining us! We aren’t even on a normal schedule!” Sero began getting worked up now, his voice pitching up as he gestured to everyone that had stopped to listen. “The rest of the students here have classes spread throughout the week. They chose their classes. They have time to themselves. We barely get a day to rest, and the rest of our schedule has already been decided for us. We don’t get to decide anything!”

“Sero,” Jiro said placidly. “We’re in the hero course. That entails-”

“Bullsh*t. You heard Midoriya. We’re all just his and that rat's little experiment.” Toga took a step forward now, practically snarling, while Jiro felt her eye twitch at the comment. Ashido shuffled nervously in agreement while Kaminari stood staring at the ceiling, as if he was counting the nonexistent tiles to try to avoid the conversation entirely. “Who knows if we’re even going to make it to ‘the field,’ as he puts it.”

The atmosphere, heavy with anticipation and as sharp as a knife's edge, froze when a hand clamped down on Sero’s shoulder. Koda was frozen mid-step on the stairs coming down. A low croak sounded from the base of them. Kirishima, having come out of the bathroom for the tail end of the rant, was stuck in place, and Tokage had frozen and was staring wide-eyed at them anxiously. All eyes followed the arm of the man to the displeased face of Midoriya Izuku.

It was in a low tone that he spoke, barely even a rumble. Calm by any measure but terrifyingly neutral. “If that’s what you think, then you should probably take the form I gave you to the administration, don’t you think?”

Sero’s pupils had dilated to disks as he stared up at the man behind him. “W-when..”

“I came through the front door a moment ago at the start of your little diatribe. I’d love to hear more about why Iida can’t move, but first I’d like to make something clear.” Midoriya let go of Sero’s shoulder before stepping past and drawing everyone's attention. “The reason your schedules are so restrictive is simple. You aren’t here to play around. You want to be the best? We're going to treat you accordingly. This first year is critical in not only forming your habits but establishing everyone's foundations. The foundation which the rest of your time spent here at U.A. will build off of. Your second year will see us all having a less restrictive schedule. It’ll even allow for one or two electives. It will expose you to a wider range of fieldwork, as well. That'll be important, because in everyone's third year with us, you’ll be expected to pick the specialization that suits you best. This is where you’ll all finish your training and experience in this program.”

Midoriya let his eyes roam across his gathered classmates. “Technically speaking, I’m still your classmate, not an official educator here, so I will warn you all. Nothing about this will be easy. This course isn’t going to teach you how hero work is usually done. It's not going to teach glitz and pomp. Where you would normally learn how to market yourself, we’re going to drill criminal law into you. Where you would learn flashy takedowns that look great on camera, we're going to teach you how to talk someone down off a ledge, and should that fail, eliminate the threat quickly and concisely.”

Midoriya pinned several of the students with his gaze. “This all requires you to meet a certain baseline of physical fitness. Something that will get easier as time progresses. As I said before, if any of you have an issue with this, then take it to the administration. We barely have enough time to train you effectively. There isn’t enough to waste on people who don’t want to be trained, and neither of us have time to waste on slackers, either. Am I understood?” A chorus of understanding was directed at Midoriya, and he relaxed. “Good. Tokage.” Midoriya gestured to his own face. “You’re sprouting feathers.”

The shaking woman squawked and rushed back into the bathroom. Midoriya chuckled and shook his head. The tense atmosphere eased, and Midoriya spoke again. “Now in just a moment-”

The front door clicked again as it opened, and this time, everyone turned to see who it was. Slowly, one unsteady step at a time, Uraraka crept into the building with a frowning Aizawa at her side. Hagakure rushed across the room with a squeal, alongside Ashido who froze halfway, blood draining from her face. Once again, the room was silent as their gazes flicked between the pained smile on Uraraka’s face and the sleek black metal from her right knee and left thigh down. The dangerous growl when Toga spoke echoed the sentiment of many of the class. “And why was it again that you didn’t let me kill the bastard?”

Aizawa spoke now in an exasperated, disapproving tone. “Because then I’d have to arrest you, Toga.”

Ashido shook herself before crossing the rest of the room with a plastic smile. “Well, you look like sh*t.”

Uraraka stared for a moment before laughing and wincing. “Oh, oh don’t make me laugh. It hurts.” Mina’s eyes tracked to where Uraraka’s hand was pressed against her left side. Images of rebar rammed through her, covered in blood, so much blood, came unbidden to her mind before Ashido shook her head to dismiss them.

“Come on, let's get you settled in again, shall we? We can do that. Right, Mido?”

Midoriya nodded before speaking softly. “I was going to ask the girls to help with that before I got,” Midoriya’s eyes flicked to Sero briefly, “distracted.” A little louder, Midoriya called out to the class. “Tomorrow is our rest day, so in light of current circ*mstances,” Midoriya glanced down at the still face-down form of Iida Tenya, “and evident overwork from some of you, take today, as well. Just remember that when we come back, we’ll be starting the basics of fighting with your conditioning. So make sure to rest up, everyone.” The relief from the class was palpable as they all started to disperse. Quietly, Midoriya signaled for Aizawa before squatting down next to Iida.

“How much did you overdo it?” Midoriya asked quietly.

“I didn’t go over the limits you gave us…” Iida protested weakly but could feel the stare burning into the back of his head. “Much..”

Midoriya pinched the bridge of his nose before taking a breath. “Iida. The training maximums for both canteen types were calculated very carefully to avoid this exact scenario. Did anyone else join you in this insanity?”

A moment of silence delayed into two, and Midoriya, annoyed, poke Iida in the back of the thigh, eliciting a quiet hiss. “Tsunotori and Shinso joined in, but I’m sure they’re fine, unlike me. I did the most.”

Midoriya rolled his head back and groaned at the ceiling. “They are also far less physically fit than a son of the Idaten family line.” Midoriya rolled his shoulders and stood stretching. Aizawa simply shook his head, glaring down at Iida.

“I’ll take this one to Recovery Girl. You go check on the other two.”

“That’s rather gracious of you…” Midoriya trailed off while glaring suspiciously at Aizawa.

Aizawa smirked. “I’m pointing the nurse-shaped cruise missile in your direction.”

Midoriya groaned and cursed, but turned to head up the stairs and check on the two when he glanced over at Toga, narrowing his gaze suspiciously. Quietly, Midoriya slinked his way to the kitchen and inspected the fridge. Not so quietly, Midoriya walked back out and placed a hand on Toga’s shoulder this time. “Himiko, when was the last time you ate something?”

The woman jolted in Midoriya’s hand while Jiro across from her smirked into her cereal. “What are you talking about, Izuku? I have a bagel right here!” The jittery response did nothing to shake Midoriya’s suspicions, and at the glare he was sending her way, Jiro snorted before covering her mouth and shaking her head.

“Told you, Himi, he saw through you immediately.”

Toga whined, and Midoriya sighed before taking the seat next to her. Quietly, he unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt and rolled it above his elbow before presenting it to her. “Drink.”

Toga glanced around the room and blanched before shaking her head furiously. Midoriya sighed again. “You can either do this, or we can go to Recovery Girl and you can receive her wrath. They are going to know you need blood for more than just your quirk eventually, and considering that the blood bags in the fridge are gone, I’m sure at least a couple of them have already picked up on it.” Midoriya looked Toga in the eyes before slowly shaking his head and speaking softly. “No one is going to judge you for this here, Himi, and if they do, then they’re in the wrong program. We have multiple mutant quirks in the class, and you don’t see any of them being harassed, do you? U.A. doesn’t tolerate that kind of behavior like the rest of the country.”

Slowly, Toga took Midoriya’s arm and sank her fangs into his brachial artery. Midoriya stifled the instinctual response and shook his head. This is going to be a long f*cking day.

…

I was right. Long. f*cking. Day. Midoriya could practically feel the snarl creeping out of his throat as he attempted to school his face to the best of his abilities. This would be the third time he’d warned Snipe’s student about this, and if Midoriya had anything to say about it, it was the last time.

The professor had found Midoriya in the teachers' lounge with his head buried in paperwork not long before noon. The large man had evidently brought Midoriya good news regarding the completion of the gas chamber. It had been something Snipe himself had wanted constructed for some time, owing to the potential usage of lachrymators in their field. It hadn’t, however, surprised him when the board didn’t approve the funding to build the gas chamber. Snipe could acknowledge that, from their perspective, the optics on it were bad.

Midoriya had simply been another dissenting voice against the lack of funding. He, however, had been more than capable of funding his program himself. Snipe supposed it was a benefit Midoriya and Hatsume had, being two of the richest people in the world. When he had wanted to run tests in it, Midoriya had simply smiled and agreed to be the range safety officer for Snipe’s morning course.

That was a decision that Midoriya was regretting at this moment. He should have just run the tests himself. But nooooo, I had to let Snipe play with his new toys. f*ck friendship. He has morons for students. “Tohaku, so help me, if I have to tell you one more time to keep the firearm pointed down range, even if it’s on the bench in front of you.”

Tohaku glanced down at where the .45 was pointing at the wall between his and his girlfriend's stall before scoffing. “Oh come on. The magazine is out. It's clear, it's fine.”

“If it’s fine, Tohaku, then why is the slide forward? Magazine out and the slide locked back. Keep it downrange until I clear you, and even then, keep the weapon aimed downrange. These are the basics, and you don’t get to not follow them because Snipe isn’t here today.”

The other members of the course were beginning to peek their heads out of their stalls, as Midoriya’s frustration was tangible even over the sound of gunshots and their hearing protection. Tohaku’s eyes flicked nervously between his watching classmates and Midoriya. He opened his mouth to argue back when he saw his girlfriend watching, as well.

Midoriya saw the moment the student went from being stupid and backing down to being a moron and committing. Tohaku grabbed the sidearm from the bench before turning and speaking, “I said it’s safe, so what's the big deal? Look. Woo-”

Midoriya’s eyes tracked the gun in the air until it strafed the wall between stalls and was turning towards him. It was mostly instinct that drove his actions. He’d admit that it wasn’t an entirely conscious decision, even if it was entirely satisfying. Midoriya’s hand shot out, gripping the sidearm at the trigger guard and wrenching the barrel upward, locking Tohaku’s finger even as Midoriya's knee shot up and into the groin of the male student.

A collective hiss echoed through the now quiet class as Tohaku stumbled back onto his knees, gripping his groin with tears in his eyes. It was a second before the man child began sputtering curses about how Midoriya wouldn’t get away with his actions, that he’d drag him in front of the school board for this.

The tirade was cut short when his eyes tracked to the .45 bullets rolling to a stop on the ground in front of him. His eye’s tracked upwards then, first to the gun in Midoriya’s hands, now with its slide pulled back, then Tohaku’s eye’s tracked further up towards the face of his underclassman. The underclassman that had dared embarrass him now scowled down at him with pure and unadulterated fury. When his voice came out, it was cold and hard.

“That bullet? Maybe a ricochet, if you’re lucky. Maybe no injuries if you use up the rest of your lifetime's worth of luck. More than likely? With how you just behaved, deciding to strafe the rest of your class? Paramedics if I’m lucky, a dead student if I’m not. Let it sink in for a moment that you could have easily killed one of your fellow classmates because of your petulant behavior.”

“I- I- Midoriya I-”

“Do be quiet now, because I wasn’t finished. Class is, as of this moment, dismissed. You will be coming with me to explain to Snipe and a disciplinary board why you felt the need to keep a loaded firearm pointed at your girlfriend in the next stall over.”

…

Midoriya was surprised to find several students quite awake and rummaging around in the kitchen. Even more surprising was that Shinso was the first to notice him, with one hell of a sh*t-eating grin. “Do I even want to know-”

Midoriya startled when Ashido came barreling into his side, jittering, laughing hysterically, and practically climbing all over him. Scratch that, getting handsy with him. “Okay.” Midoriya peeled the girl off of him and pulled her hand away from his belt. “What the hell is going on here?”

Shinso continued to grin as he sipped on a mug of what smelled suspiciously like-. “I fed everyone coffee.” There it is.

Midoriya continued to hold Ashido in the air at arm's length while his eyebrows scrunched together. “Why would that…” His eyes opened wide in horror and possibly mild amusem*nt. Though he would deny that if anyone asked. “You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t give everyone my coffee blend.”

The sh*t-eating grin only grew wider. “Well, almost everyone,” Shinso stressed the syllable further than necessary. “Asui practically threw it back at me. Must be in a foul mood. Tokoyami turned it down. Iida and Yaoyorozu…” Shinso trailed off for a moment before scrunching his nose and continuing quietly, like the mere words were heresy. “They’re tea drinkers. Won’t touch coffee.”

Midoriya groaned good-naturedly with his two main worries out of the way. “Shinso, caffeine is lethal for frogs and toxic to birds. You were handing them poison.” Shinso blinked before giving a surprised oh.

Midoriya finally dropped Ashido, who had begun to pout, before heading towards the kitchen. He hadn’t gotten there before she was on his back like a hyperactive chipmunk. The scene in the kitchen was something out of this world. Mezo sat in one corner, a porcupine of eyes and ears observing everything at once. Kirishima was frantically doing squats while watching Sero dig through the cabinets, and Kaminari jittered, nursing a giant smile and a mug.

Sero whipped around when Midoriya walked into the room before running up to him. “Heeeeey. Hey, Midoriya, my man, my dude. Say, would there happen to be any more of that coffee of yours? Maybe in your room? You’ve gotta be stashing some somewhere, right? Right?”

Midoriya stared blandly at Sero before responding with a negative. “I mix it myself back at Moonlit headquarters, so no.” All of them were startled by a sorrowful wail from Kaminari, followed by lightning. Midoriya could hear Shinso cackling in the common area, and he in turn could hear Midoriya cursing him over the shrieking of his classmates.

Chapter 42: Chapter #41| Monster In The Mirror

Chapter Text

It was early in the morning when Midoriya found himself rolling from his dorm room bed, a scream stuck in his throat and his lungs burning for air. A short gurgling choke was as far as Midoriya got before he lurched from his hands and knees to his nearby trashcan and emptied his throat and lungs of the viscera and bile that came with the nightmare. Faces flashed before his eyes. Too many, far too many, eyes all smiling as their faces screamed in agony, the sound of artillery and bells rang in his ears as the wails of women and children echoed around his room. He could smell the poignant, rancid scent of the collapsing village. Feel the fire on his skin.

It took too many minutes by Midoriya’s count, too much time to pull himself together. Nothing would be gained by lingering on the thoughts, nothing could be changed. Time spent thinking about it was time wasted. He had work to do. Too many civilians lives were on the line for him to lo-

Midoriya froze, catching his own thoughts even as they spiraled around him. You aren’t there anymore. There is no war. No one's in danger. Midoriya knew he was lying to himself, even as he dragged himself down the dorm stairs and into the bathroom. He was always there. He couldn’t escape it. Even now, the people around him weren’t safe. Kyoka was attacked due to his inaction.

Himiko’s sister was safe with his mother on one of her business trips to New York. There were always rich people to cook for. His sister now, as well, he supposed, and that wasn’t ever going to not be a strange thought. Himiko, his and Mei’s ward, and her little sister, who was now his little sister. Midoriya couldn’t help but think of their biological parents. The abusive monsters rotting in the prison system. The abusive monsters that could still get out. He should have killed them, tied up the loose ends. He knew better, knew what loose ends could result in. But he’d chosen to abide by the law, had chosen to take the heroic action. Look where they are now. Now they weren’t safe, either. No. They’ll both be safe as long as I’m around. I’ll wrap up those loose ends when I can. Midoriya knew that even if he kept them safe, it wouldn’t absolve his guilt. Wouldn’t wash the blood from his hands. Wouldn’t protect those that he couldn’t. Can’t keep them safe. Can’t keep anyone safe-

Midoriya dunked his head under the faucet of the bathroom sink and just tried to breathe through the tightening plaguing his chest once again. Weak. Look at what we’ve become. The answer is right there. It’s so simple. We know how, we have the resources. We can do more, but you’re too much of a coward. Fingers gripped his left shoulder, and it had him spinning in place, water whipping from his drenched hair and face. His right hand drew the combat knife from its sheath at the small of his back. He never pulls the sheathe off. What if he didn’t have his sidearm, like he didn’t now?

The blade whipped through the head of the figure and embedded itself into the tile wall. Shimura stared at him, wide-eyed, as she sucked in a breath and looked at the knife. When her head turned back to Midoriya, his eyes were vacant and his breathing shallow.

Voices rang in his ears. Hers, his, someone else, another. Never alone, never alone, never alone. His fault. Always his fault. Midoriya rocked back into the dorm bathroom’s wall, sliding down it, a high keening sound emitting from his throat.

…

Aizawa wasn’t sure what to think of his students this year. Not entirely. They were dealing with Midoriya’s hell training, so he couldn’t say they weren’t motivated. Being told to run some twelve miles, about half a marathon, before they’d even started in on the weight training or any of the other slew of exercises that were Midoriya’s idea of “basic” conditioning. Whether it was a testament to Midoriya’s very careful planning or the students' own conditioning before U.A., they’d had a shocking lack of injuries.

All the same, Aizawa had resolved to talk to Midoriya about the regime. If they weren’t careful, the students would burn out, and he had hopes for this batch. Midoriya wasn’t exempt from that thought, either. The damned rat had given him the problem children from hell. Nedzu’s personal student or not, supposed “assistant student teacher” or not, hell, incompetence of the number one hero and, by extension, school board or not, Aizawa was not about to let Midoriya burn them all out in the first two weeks. They were his responsibility.

His responsibility. Each of them. Aizawa scoffed as he stepped back into the dorm. It had been a long patrol, and the only thing he wanted to do at the moment was to go upstairs to his apartment, lock the door so none of the problem children could bother him, and collapse into bed. He wouldn’t really care if they needed something, of course. He was usually a hardass on his students. They needed it, needed to know what was waiting for them. But this group was different. They were already having the sick truth thrust in their faces, and they were barely into the semester.

One of his students had been maimed, another had been removed, and he’d come close to expelling him entirely. That wasn’t even touching on what he’d noticed with the rest of the class. Toga was a bit too keyed into something darker. Jiro had something akin to hero-worship going on with Midoriya, a bit too willing to do what he asked of her. Midoriya was supposedly both quirkless, which he found hard to believe, and ex-military. Which would also be hard to believe, if he hadn’t seen how the kid fought on occasion. Two couldn’t control their quirks, one was afraid to use her quirk in a fight, and another of his students looked like he was waiting for all of his classmates to turn on him. None of that even touched on Todoroki. Problems socializing, showing emotions, with fast movements, clear physical scarring, and a painfully obvious issue with using the fire half of his quirk. All of it pointed to only a few reasons and, frankly, Aizawa disliked all of them.

He’d ask Midoriya what he knew, but depending on the boy's mood, and it had been downright foul these last couple of days, he’d either charge him an arm and a leg for the information, or he’d give him the run around before eventually giving up his files on the subject, still for the cost of his limbs. He really didn’t want to try to pry what would inevitably be sensitive information from the calculating broker, even if Midoriya was damn good at it. Aizawa contemplated asking Nedzu for a minute before groaning to himself at the base of the stairs. God damn it. I’m going to have to ask Midoriya, aren’t I? Aizawa was as likely to get something from the rat as he was a brick wall. The amount Nedzu was hiding from his supposed unofficial vice president was something that Aizawa didn’t even remotely have the energy to think about at the moment.

This class needed something else entirely, and he honestly wasn’t entirely sure how to give them what they needed. He didn’t do soft. That had always been Hizashi. Hizashi, who he was probably going to wake up by accident, again, when he slumped into their bed. It was always an annoying conversation when the students that were left in his class figured that tidbit out. One silver lining about Midoriya’s hell regimen, Aizawa supposed, was that the students were too tired to care to figure it out.

Thoughts of how to avoid waking his husband evacuated the hero’s mind as the wall shook and a crash echoed through the first floor of the dorm. Adrenaline dumped into Aizawa’s system as he bolted towards the sound of… something. It sounded like a wounded animal in the men's bathroom, but unless Koda had let something into the dorms, which he somehow doubted the shy young man would do, there was something else… going… on.

Aizawa’s thoughts ground to a halt as he stepped through the entryway. Fragments of tile sprinkled the ground from where they’d been shattered by most of a seven-inch blade being driven into the wall. The sink still ran, steam rising from the water and misting the mirror above it. But the thing that stood out starkly from the white porcelain was the sheer amount of blood that had been splattered across it. Curled under the sink and snarling out at Aizawa laid one of the students he had just been worried about.

The scent of copper and iron hit Aizawa’s nose as his hands came up. “Hey there, kid. Easy, it’s just me.” Midoriya bared his teeth, displaying- f*cking hell, why does the kid have fangs? A thump from behind him almost had him turning, but every instinct he had was telling him not to turn his back on Midoriya right now. Viridian eyes glowed through slits, even as bloody fingers- claws- dug further into his bleeding skin.

Aizawa heard a quick breath being sucked in behind him, and a hand pressed softly against his shoulder blade. Lowly, a woman—Hatsume, he realized belatedly—spoke from beside him. “Aizawa, I’m going to need you to back away to the other side of the room when I move forward.” Hatsume stepped forward slowly, crooning to the boy. She was here, everything was fine, she was there.

Aizawa didn’t step back as Hatsume’d asked him to, too concerned with the potential threat the boy seemed to present at the moment. He was still too slow when Midoriya lunged forward at the young woman. His capture weapon got halfway to Midoriya by the time Midoriya was reaching Hatsume. It was lucky for everyone that Midoriya didn’t have any plans to hurt Hatsume. Instead, he wrapped himself around the woman, face buried into her collarbone, and they both slid to the floor bonelessly. Hatsume was still speaking softly, even as she ran fingers through the young man's hair. Even as blood seeped from the fresh cuts on his arms, chest, and neck, staining her pajamas.

It stayed that way for a long moment before anyone spoke, before it clicked that what Aizawa had just witnessed was a panic attack. “We need to get him over to Recovery Girl. Those scratches are going to need to be tended.” And just where the hell had the kid gotten such extensive scarring from? Handprints, burns, blade wounds and gunshot holes. Incisions marks lined his skin, as if someone had used him as a lab experiment.

The white scar tissue traced his entire body, standing out starkly against the black ink of intricate tattoo work. Letters of flowing script, almost runic in nature, if not for the way they glided into one another, wrapped around a tapestry of artwork ranging from mediocre in skill to breathtaking.

Hatsume slowly shook her head as Midoriya burrowed into her and emitted some kind of low howl from the back of his throat. She spoke softly, even as her fingers carded through his hair and his fingers dug into her back. “They’ll heal soon enough.”

“That’s his quirk, then? Whatever this is?”

The sigh was full of loathing, but Hatsume’s voice revealed something else of her thoughts as she spoke. “He has no quirk. Why can’t you damn heroes just accept that what you see isn’t always what it seems.”

The venom in the words was concerning, but the bloodied student in front of him was a bigger one at that moment.“He threw a ball to Hawaii.”

“And turned the bones in his arm to dust and shredded the muscle fibers in the process.”

The flat tone had Aizawa’s attention, but the admission had the hero hissing under his breath. “And you expect me to believe that he was fine after that?”

“Izu’s no stranger to experimental medical procedures.” Again, the flat tone. He was learning more in this short conversation than he had in years of poking and prodding at the behest of the rat.

“You don’t approve.”

“I don’t approve of a lot of things, Aizawa. But we’re partners. I’m not his keeper.”

“What are you doing here, Hatsume?” He wasn’t going to get anywhere with that line of questioning, so he switched tracks.

“Kyo and Himiko get nightmares. Sometimes it helps for them to sleep together. It’s the contact, you know? It’s a familiar presence to anchor you. And to be honest? You don’t get paid enough to care about one extra student in the dorms.” And God, didn’t Aizawa know it. He also knew how much a familiar presence could help. He couldn’t count how many times Hizashi had been there when he woke up from a bad memory, as he had for him.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Even if it was a good piece of information to file away for later. All the more reason to see about getting his problem children into a meeting or ten with Hound Dog.

“Doesn’t it?” Hatsume’s eyes dropped back to where the large man pinned her in place. “We knew this was coming, really. It’s shocking that it didn't happen sooner.”

“You knew Midoriya was going to break a wall and claw his own skin off?” He had a few guesses as to who the “we” was, but that didn’t really matter at the moment. Hatsume chuckled darkly at the deadpan question.

“No. It’s not usually this bad. But he hadn’t slept since before the training exercise, and even then he was overdue for a night's rest. He was pushing it to get this far without collapsing.”

Wearily, Aizawa let his own body slide down to the floor. “What the f*ck, problem children? Why exactly hasn’t Midoriya slept since he had a building collapse on him?”

“He has his reasons.”

“That you are going to tell me?” Aizawa spoke hopefully, staring blandly at the young woman.

“Those aren’t my secrets to tell, Aizawa.” The fact that she knew them was left unspoken.

“Fine. Say I believe you. That this, whatever the f*ck this is, isn’t a quirk. What is he then?”

Hatsume bristled but did her best to remain calm, even if the phrasing was lackluster. “It depends on who you ask.”

“I’m asking you, aren’t I?”

“I think he’s whatever he has to be.” And isn’t that a loaded statement.

“Not exactly what I was asking, and I think you know it.”

“Not my secrets to tell, Aizawa.” Once again, Aizawa changed tracks.

“And what about you? You certainly seem to have a calming effect on him.”

“You don’t have to worry about a student finding him like this first. I was alerted as soon as Phoenix couldn’t get him to respond.”

“Not what I was asking, Hatsume.” Aizawa scowled before rubbing his face and sighing.

“I’m a constant for him. He knows I’ll never turn on him.” And that was getting somewhere. That was also far too certain for his liking, even with teenage love. That theory was looking rough, he supposed. Hatsume scowled before snorting. “You can stop thinking that right now. There’s no relationship between any of us.”

Aizawa shifted uneasily in place. He wasn’t easy to read, or at least he didn’t think so. “And how do you know I was thinking about such a thing?”

A low chuckle. “You forget Ai-za-wa,” Hatsume stressed his name, dragging it out the same way Midoriya enjoyed doing.“While the rat has had you observing us, we’ve been observing you.” Her face dropped into melancholy before she spoke again. “No, there’s nothing between any of us. Kyo thinks she likes him, but he saved her life and he’d never believe the feelings were genuine. Not with how he is now. Himiko is basically his sister now, and that throws him. I-”

The words choked in her throat, and she took a shuddering breath. “I think he’d take me if I asked, but I can’t do that to him. Not when he’s given me everything already and kept on giving. We’re family, Aizawa. He’s already long earned our absolute loyalty, and before you ask, no. Not-”

“Your secrets to tell. Yeah, I gathered that, Hatsume.” The girl took another shuddering breath before nodding.

“I’m sure you have your theories, just like Nao does. If you really want to be certain about some of them, ask Nedzu.”

Consternation was what crossed Aizawa’s face as his eyebrows scrunched together. “What do you mean, Hatsume?”

“Izuku will do whatever it takes to protect his own and has the power, money, and influence to do exactly that. He’s not just an information broker. If you threaten him or his, then he’s dangerous. Nedzu is the same. He’s dangerous, Aizawa, and not all of your coworkers have the same morals and ethics that you hold yourself to. He’s more than happy to make use of that. He's lacking in human empathy. Oh, he understands what it is, how to emulate it, but he struggles because his empathy isn't human. Before we ever came here to stay in his territory, there were dozens of discussions and agreements to be made. He knows far more than he’s evidently told you, if these are the questions you’re asking.”

Hatsume shifted to look him in the eyes when she spoke next. “He. Is. Dangerous. But he calls us his students and has decided to teach us without reservations. So we will call him teacher and turn our eyes away from his actions, just as he does for us.” Hatsume let her head roll back, and she stared at the ceiling. “Good luck getting anything out of the damn chimera, though. He’s as twitchy about compartmentalization as Izu is.” Again, isn’t that the damn truth. “Go upstairs, Aizawa, and crawl in bed. You look like you’re about to fall asleep on the bathroom floor with Izu here.”

Aizawa groaned as he realized, indeed, that Midoriya had fallen asleep curled into Hatsume. All the same, he stood and shook his head. “I’m not leaving you two on the floor, and I’ll need to have this mess dealt with.”

“Go to bed, Aizawa. We’re well versed in repair and cleaning operations at this point. It’ll be all dealt with before you wake up.” Aizawa stared at the young woman that he had watched grow the last couple of years. A brilliant mechanic, an even better engineer. A half-decent fighter, and a terrifying shot with a rifle.

Aizawa looked to where Midoriya now laid curled against a woman he evidently considered safe, considered family. It was yet another jolt to his system when he realized the tattoo work was gone, and with it, many of the scars. For the first time in a long time, Aizawa decided that he didn't want to know right now. He’d already had too much for one morning.

“Fine, anything else I should know before that?” Please don’t say yes.

“Yes,” f*ck. “I spoke to Midoriya about it, and he’ll be pulling back on the basic training. Decided it wasn’t viable with hand to hand and quirk training coming up.” Oh, that’s not too bad. “Also, Bakugo is going to be coming back Monday.”

Warily, he narrowed his eyes. “Yes, I do believe so. He’ll be in general education, though.”

“I’m aware of his terms. I’m just wanting to warn you. Don’t let Bakugo near Izuku, this last incident was the last straw. The next time Bakugo picks a fight, I don’t know if he’ll walk away alive.” Aizawa’s stomach did a flip as he realized there was no humor in her eyes.

Aizawa walked away and made his way upstairs. He crawled into bed, cursing soft apologies as he once again woke his husband, who simply stared into his eyes with concern. The sleep Aizawa did get that morning was fitful and left him more tired than when he’d gone to bed. When he stepped into the men's bathroom that morning, he found Hatsume hadn’t been lying. Everything was cleaned and repaired. As if nothing had ever happened at all.

Chapter 43: Chapter #42 | Dissension In The Ranks

Chapter Text

Kayama felt her brows scrunch together even as she scowled and reached a hand up to rub between them. She wanted to claim it was exhaustion that was doing her mind in. Midnight had been called in early that morning when a noncombative Class A threat had been cornered. The reprisal from the masked man had been swift once she had arrived on the scene. Evidently, the police hadn’t expected him to have a gas mask, and their definition of noncombative was that the target had gone out of his way to avoid fighting. Kayama grimaced, rubbing her ribs. That had changed as soon as hero support had arrived.

“-yama.” Kayama’s head popped up from her place at the table in the teacher's lounge, eyes searching around for the source of the noise. Her eyes locked with Inui and she grunted.

“Sorry, wasn’t listening. What’d you ask?” Inui frowned, but it was Aizawa that responded.

“We asked if you’d noticed any students that could do with at least one session with Inui.” Kayama shook her head slowly before mulling over the question and giving a noncommittal sound.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed a couple that could probably do with a session at least. I’ll send the student files to you in a bit.” Aizawa shifted over to look at the file in front of Kayama. His own eyebrows scrunched together before a long-suffering sigh escaped his lips.

“First time you’ve run into them?” Kayama’s head snapped around.

“You know them?”

“You catch them?” Kayama scowled at Aizawa even as he shook his head.

“There's the answer to your question. I have no clue who this is, much like I have no clue who the others are.” Aizawa pulled a keyring out before opening the file safe that the teachers had installed in the lounge. More often than not, they worked on sensitive cases in the lounge where the heroes could bounce ideas off of their colleagues. It was more secure to have the communal safe than to leave the files out in the open. Certainly more convenient, for certain cases, than going all the way back to their individual safes in their offices.

The file that Aizawa handed to Kayama had the woman's jaw clenching. “How many are there?”

“We don’t know that, either. The police and affiliated heroes have caught only a couple and, while we have their names and that tattoo, the interrogation got us nowhere. Perfectly silent until several big-name lawyers got them out.”

Kayama once again scowled, staring at the odd tattoo on the page. A squirrel wrapped in a spiral around and down the forearm. Four lines formed the nordic knots of the tail, while runes and knots of white ink decorated a black body that ended in the head of the squirrel at the wrist. “This is pretty unique. Are you telling me that no one has noticed this?”

“Evidently not, and even most undercover heroes are reporting no knowledge or sightings.”

“How ‘bout askin Midoriya?” Both heads turned to Snipe. The man had his hand up under his mask and was crunching into some kind of breakfast bar, as evident by the crumbs falling out of the crinkling package.

“No.” Aizawa scowled at the suggestion, while Snipe merely shrugged. Kayama and several other teachers all looked over at the terse declaration.

“Why precisely would Midoriya know anything about these guys?” Aizawa ducked his face into his scarf, looking away. Snipe simply continued to eat his crumbs bar. “Anyone? Why exactly does one of our hero students possibly know about a criminal organization?”

“Maybe because Midoriya’s part of one himself?” The bitter voice came from Kurose, shocking several other teachers.

“Now I may not like the man, and his attempted input on my lesson plans are getting particularly annoying, but accusing him of being a criminal seems like an extreme, do you not think?”

Kurose snorted inside of her spacesuit. “He killed a group of criminals for trying to break into his company's headquarters only a few years ago. Do you seriously think he did nothing illegal with all that money before investing in U.A? Come on, Ishiyama. He's the CEO of a major company. They’re all dirty. He’s just a killer, as well.”

Aizawa spoke up in response. “I was there, Kurose. He eliminated a threat from trained operatives.”

Kurose remained stoic. “Sounds like he could have detained them to me.”

Kayama finally stepped back into the conversation by shouting. “WHY would one of our students know about this criminal organization? Aizawa? Snipe?” A short chuckle from the end of the table had everyone jerking and snapping their heads to the side. Freshly arrived, presumably from the vent above him, and quietly watching the chaos from where he sat, the college president sipped on his cup of tea.

“Well, I’d have to assume that it’s because Midoriya is one of the most infamous information brokers in the Japanese underworld right now.” The smile from Nedzu showed the rows of razor-sharp teeth in his muzzle, sending chills down the teachers’ spines. “Of course, he only works with nonviolent offenders.”

“And why the hell hasn’t he been arrested? Why is he in our hero course?”

The chimera just raised an eyebrow at Kurose’s horrified question. “I’ll have you know the board quite likes his wallet. He has put a lot of money into the school, and most of the time, they enjoy talking to Midoriya when they invite him to meetings. Knowing things he shouldn’t isn’t a crime, Kurose, and good luck proving he obtained the information illegally. The governments have had the SIT investigating him since his company was attacked.”

“That doesn’t mean selling the information is legal!”

Nedzu just shrugged. “We all find it useful. He doesn’t side with just anyone, and we would like to keep it that way. Connections are useful, anyway. By the way, everyone, since Ishiyama was kind enough to mention it, Midoriya is one of my students. My class may have special qualifications, and while they may be allowed to act as teaching assistants should you ask for it, they are not teachers. They cannot actually run the class nor decide the lesson plan. Am I understood?” Nedzu stared hard at Aizawa. He was fine with Midoriya running the conditioning week. It was just running, after all. But now that 1-A was moving into proper training, he wanted Aizawa out of his sleeping bag.

Aizawa nodded slightly while the other teachers grunted in response. “Now, I really should get going. The board wanted to speak with me about that new, wonderfully lemon-scented building that Ishiyama will be finishing up today. Enjoy the rest of your Sunday, everyone!” Even as he finished his sentence, Nedzu was already jumping upwards onto the wall. He skittered back into the vent, leaving the teachers shuddering at the clicking of the chimera’s claws.

Kayama looked back down at the files in front of her. If what the president had said was true, then asking Midoriya might be her best bet at tracking this man down again quickly. Something about all of this was niggling at the back of her mind, though, and for the life of her, Kayama couldn’t place what it was. “Oh, sh*t, right. Student files. One second, Inui.”

…
“I’m ALIVE again!” Ashido leaned back in her seat and groaned, Hagakure snickering from her own place at the table. The two were seated at one of the cafes in U.A’s village, or, as the president liked to call it, U.A. Town Center. One thing the president had been keen on during the construction of his school had been security. After several arguments on how to actually accomplish that, a plan was eventually drawn up for the creation of the U.A. Town Center, the main plaza on the edge of the property connecting miles of roads leading to dorms, school buildings, training fields, bunkers, and whatever else was decided to be constructed on U.A. land.

The main plaza was a swathe of commercial buildings where students could come and purchase anything they might need for their stay at the college. Restaurants and cafes were spread between parks and decorative topiary, providing the perfect place where students could recharge between classes. Student workers filled the job slots, while a handful of vetted adults ran the venues and oversaw supply deliveries to the tunnel network running beneath the plaza.

“You know, when Midoriya said that we’d need to wean ourselves back to normal amounts of caffeine, I thought he’d be joking.” Ashido scowled down at the cups of pure espresso both she and Hagakure were nursing.

“Hey, at least he isn’t trying to sell us coffee like some kind of drug dealer.” Hagakure gestured with her cup before shrugging her shoulders. Another moment of silence occurred as the two stared out at the students milling between buildings.

It seemed so easy to forget that while U.A. was a top hero school, it did still teach other things, that the school had actual degrees you could earn instead of licenses. Seeing all of the students, though, forced the thought back into the forefront of the brain. What were the other students here for? Were they aiming to become doctors? Lawyers? Programmers?

Unbidden, Hagakure wondered what she was doing in the hero course. She didn’t have a quirk for this, and if it had only been a week, then how was she going to survive years of worse? It wasn’t like she’d be missed if she left. She never was. The thought left her as quickly as it came. She’d already survived a week of training, and the teachers apparently valued her quirk. A stray thought was all it was. Kind of like imagining kicking a crying baby on a plane. Hagakure chuckled at the dark thought before letting that go, too.

Ashido's smirk was mirthless. She’d reached a very different line of thought, still on the coffee. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to be Shinso, either, right now. Though the look on Aizawa’s face when he found out that Midoriya’s blend was gone was almost worth this tired hell.”

Hagakure was confused momentarily as she brought herself back to the same line of thought. Before she could respond though, both of the girls' phones buzzed on the table. Ashido picked hers up and hummed. “Group text, apparently a couple of us are being requested over in the support labs.” Hagakure gave a longing gaze to the confectionaries displayed inside the cafe. She sighed. Guess the plan of another coffee and a scone was out. Maybe to-go…

Ashido stretched, her t-shirt rising up at Hagakure’s eye level, giving the girl an eyeful of toned pink abs before the show was over. “Welp, away we go, I guess.” Ashido picked up her own espresso before waiting for Hagakure to do the same. Again, Hagakure sighed. No, not to-go, she supposed.

…

Midoriya sipped his own coffee, even as he maneuvered holographic designs around the support lab. Powerloader had practically demanded the technology be installed into the support labs, and Hatsume had been more than happy to oblige the request. As much as she liked having a physical manifestation of her design plans, she had become rather accustomed to using digital copies of her planning work. The first time Hatsume had shown off the technology to the support courses was in a workshop teaching them how to make use of the newly integrated machinery. The students from every year were practically drooling over the new installments. Evidently, while the civilian market still had work to be done, Hatsume had agreed to push developer kits out to prospective members of the field that would like to make use of the hardware.

A little early in Midoriya’s opinion, but then again, he was a bit of a perfectionist as a geneticist. He had to be, after all. He’d read the filed paperwork, and since it was all completed properly, that’s all there was to it. If Hatsume thought that she and her department's project was ready, then it was. Nevertheless, Midoriya continued sipping his coffee while waiting on the students he’d called for. Some of the students, he had no complaints about. Some of the others, rather, had submitted gods awful costume designs.

He looked up as the door opened, quirking an eyebrow when he processed who he was looking at. “Ah, Tokoyami. Sorry for calling you here on your day off.”

“That is fine, I was simply completing some menial tasks. What is it that you require?” Midoriya shook his head.

“Sorry again, I’m not the one that wants you. I have no problem with your submission. Actually, Mei wanted to talk to you about some gadgets you might incorporate with your hero costume. You’ll find her-” Midoriya cut off at the sound of Testing Chamber One violently exploding. Midoriya grinned sheepishly. “Well, you’ll find her in there. The good news is that since it just exploded, you should be good for-” Another explosion vibrated the air. Both stared silently at each other. “NOW you should be good for a little bit.”

Tokoyami gave the door to the testing chamber a long stare, even as Dark Shadow popped out from beneath his jacket. “Uh, do you think we can just, you know, come back later?”

Midoriya looked at the bird shadow in its yellow eyes before deadpanning. “Do that and she’ll find you, instead.” Tokoyami sighed, even as several people entered the room behind him. He walked over to the door and entered, coughing, as black smoke blew out around him.

“Now, how is everyone doing today?” As prim and proper as ever, Yaoyorozu didn’t seem particularly perturbed one way or another, which only made the rest look particularly bedraggled. Mina and Hagakure looked tired, even with the espresso he could smell in their cups. But overall, they seemed to be relatively put together. Uraraka and Iida, on the other hand, looked like a bus had hit them, tired and disheveled. Tsu was a surprise. He hadn’t called her here, but from the way she was watching Uraraka, Midoriya would have guessed that Tsu had helped the girl here. Uraraka simply glared at him for the question.

“Wishing I had painkillers.” Midoriya winced. Uraraka was up and walking, both a miracle and a testament to the girl's willpower, but painkillers wouldn’t help now that she was healed from the surgery. It was just a matter of waiting while her body adjusted to the new nervous system and accompanying sensations.

“Yes, well, you know what I have to say on that.”

“All too well. What are we doing here?”

Midoriya clapped his hands at the subject change. “A welcome change of topic. There are problems with all of your costumes that I thought we should address before everyone starts wearing them again tomorrow.”

Iida spoke up first, chopping one arm downward, seemingly livelier now that his costume was called into question. “There is nothing wrong with my costume, Midoriya. It has gone through many generations of development!”

Midoriya’s eye twitched at the movement. “Iida, I’m well aware that even your grandfather wore that death can. But did you forget that the same costume nearly put metal shards through your engine block not too long ago?”

“And it also protected me, otherwise. A building fell on us, Midoriya! No costume is going to protect me from that!”

“If you run into something at your top speed in that costume, you are going to need to be pried out of it, Iida.”

“No! I have no interest in changing my family's costume. We have done plenty of research and continue to do so! We’ll manage quite well, thanks.”

Midoriya growled softly under his breath. Iida, I’m going to need you to pull the tradition staff far enough out of your ass that you can’t taste the greenheart. “Iida, I am concerned about your safety. That costume is going to get one of you killed.”

“Five generations of heroes say otherwise, Midoriya! I have no interest in changing my costume.” Midoriya wanted to bang his head on the table. Stupid heroes. Stupid traditions. Stupid death can.

“Fine.” The word was practically dragged from Midoriya. “Will you at least go talk to Mei about materials? That way, we don’t have to worry about it turning into a crushed aluminum can if you trip.”

Iida relaxed slightly at the compromise. “I suppose I can talk with your partner about material choices. Your company may have something our own technicians haven’t tried yet. Where is she?” Midoriya pointed towards the still smoking doorway of Testing Chamber One. “Oh…” Iida grimaced a little before walking over and through the doorway.

“Kero. I tend to speak my mind, Midoriya.”

“Okay?” Midoriya trailed the word off, expecting Tsu to continue in some way.

“It’s a dick move to expect everyone here to change their costumes. Kero.” Midoriya snorted. He honestly couldn’t help it. “Did you even ask if they wanted to change their costumes?” Tsu scowled as Midoriya continued to chortle.

Midoriya waved his hand, even as the other clamped down on his mouth. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just been a while since someone actually called me out on something. Not many people are actually willing to say something like that to me anymore. They try to tiptoe around things like that. Wasn’t expecting it. You’re right, of course. How many of you actually want to change your costumes?” Only Yaoyorozu and Uraraka raised their hands.

Midoriya sighed, and Ashido shrugged. “Sorry, I like my costume. Just want it acid-proofed.”

Midoriya once again deadpanned. “You have no storage at all. Can I at least offer you a utility belt? A leg pouch? Something?”

Ashido paused. “Can you make the leg pouch tie-dye?” Midoriya groaned, his hands going up in surrender.

“You’re doing this just to annoy me. Fine. You can have a tie-dye leg pouch. I hate it, but I’m not the one who gets the final choice on this. The new costume will be ready for tomorrow.”

“New costume?” Ashido’s eyebrows knit together. “Isn’t it just a leg pouch?”

Midoriya rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Did any of you read the email that went out on Friday?” When he only received shaken heads, he nodded. “Okay. Everyone’s costumes are in for basic material changes, regardless of costume design changes. Cloth and leather are getting switched out for proper protective fibers. Aramids and such, bullet resistance, slash resistance, etcetera. A few of you were called in by me to change your costumes while we are doing this. You,” Midoriya pointed at Hagakure, “don’t get a choice. The administration decided that your costume isn’t acceptable.”

Ashido raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with Hagakure’s costu-” A few beats of silence followed as the girls seemed to stop and think back. “She- she did have a costume on, right?” A small eep had them all looking at a very bashful Hagakure who was attempting to hide her invisible face.

“Uraraka, there are a few things you’ll need to be aware of with your physical changes so that you can redesign your costume to suit. Yaoyorozu, we’ll have to run some material tests, but we should be able to find you a nice solution that doesn’t involve being half-naked and unprotected. Ashido, I’ll relay what you said to Mei and we’ll get it taken care of. You’re free to go if you don’t want to stay and help these three.” Midoriya groaned and stretched his arms over his head. Audible cracks could be heard from the man's bones as he stood up, and his shirt sleeves dropped just far enough that Ashido caught a glimpse of something black on his inner wrist.

Ashido smirked and decided that if he were going to be such a dick, she’d have to get back at him. “Oooh, what’s this I see? Is Midoriya Izuku, the CEO of a major company and prospective hero, all inked up like some big, bad Yakuza member?” Midoriya gave Ashido a confused look, even as his heart jumped into his throat. How? I don’t have any major tattoos in this- Wait.

Midoriya glanced at his wrist and chuckled, unbuttoning his sleeve cuff. “I lost a bet and had to get a tattoo. They didn’t realize I’d get a small thing on my wrist, rather than the big one they were hoping for. See? It’s nothing really.” Ashido pouted at the lack of a reaction before shrugging. She’d just have to find something else. Midoriya rebuttoned his shirt before turning to get to work, once again covering the small acorn on his wrist shaped out of nordic knots.

Chapter 44: Chapter #43 | Calm Before The Storm

Chapter Text

The class was dreading the start of combat classes. If the endurance running to get to “baseline” acceptable level had been as rough as it was, then the entire weren’t looking forward to whatever hellish plan Midoriya had laid out for their hand-to-hand training.

That dread only mounted as the class waited for Aizawa to enter the room. Usually, Midoriya was waiting for them as they arrived for their afternoon heroics class, but, today, it seemed, he was missing, as well. When both Aizawa and Midoriya arrived, it was mostly without fanfare. Midoriya was in the same gear that they’d seen him in for their first heroics class with All Might. Nedzu had sent him to the support labs with Hatsume. Evidently, Powerloader still wasn’t keen on Midoriya’s actual gear, but requests from the president, as well as demonstrations from the man who’d be wearing it, were rapidly leaving Powerloader with few reasons to object. As it was, Midoriya had changed into his temporary gear before coming over, and as such, looked like he would have been more at home on a battlefield than he would in their college classroom. Aizawa looked as he always did, slightly disheveled and chronically sleepless. The contrast of the two would have been funny were it anywhere other than a heroics classroom.

Aizawa cleared his throat as he opened the wall where the students’ costumes were stored. “Training field, you all know where to go. You’ll all be wearing your costumes from now on. This means all of your gear, including the additions some of you will find. If something needs to be changed, it’s better to know about it now rather than later.” The class nodded their heads and, at a gesturing hand from Aizawa, grabbed their cases and left for the changing rooms. At his silent request, Midoriya stayed behind rather than following his class. “I would have thought you would be in your actual costume by now.”

“Yes, well, even with Snipe certifying me, I can’t blame Powerloader for not wanting to allow me to carry certain things. Thermite, for example. Not something you’d generally find a hero carrying.”

Aizawa sighed. “Why precisely would you need to be carrying thermite?”

Midoriya gave him an incredulous look. “In case I need thermite, obviously. It’s fantastic for breaching and disabling enemy equipment. It’s relatively quiet compared to plastic explosives, too.”

Aizawa rubbed his eyes. “Let me guess. You’re also attempting to carry-”

“Yes.”

“Alright then.” Aizawa dropped the subject. This was Snipe and Powerloader's problem to deal with, not his. If the president had okayed it, there wasn’t anything he was going to be able to do, anyway. Aizawa handed Midoriya a slip of paper with a list on it and a small disk. “I’m going to deal with training the class. You start pulling these aside for quirk training.”

Midoriya raised an eyebrow at Aizawa. “I’m neither a licensed quirk counselor, nor am I exactly sure why these students have been selected. Besides, shouldn't I be the one training them in hand-to-hand? I’m fairly certain that I know how to fight in the style Nedzu wants taught better than you.”

Aizawa scowled. “Because of your military training?” Midoriya’s face froze before relaxing into a flat, sardonic smile that was all teeth and never reached the eyes.

“I’d rather not start with lethal techniques, thank you.” Aizawa had seen Midoriya fight on several occasions, and he had to admit, the man was utterly lethal when he did. But that didn’t mean it needed to be the first thing his students learned. “As for the quirk counseling, it’s that in name only. We don’t need any more unlicensed teaching. I said training, and that’s what you’ll do. Nedzu and I noticed some preliminary issues at the entrance exams, and I’ve cut together what you’ll need on that disk. According to Nedzu, you have the quirk analysis skills to help. I’ll deal with teaching them to fight, you pull those students,” Aizawa gestured to the list, “aside and deal with their issues.”

Midoriya looked at the list and sighed. “I’m really starting to regret letting my military background slip to the rat. I could have just been an overachieving student, but no.”

“You made the deal with him. Just because you don’t like the outcome doesn’t mean it’s invalidated.” Midoriya glared over at Shimura. The woman had been hovering and watching him practically every minute since Aizawa had found him in the bathroom. Apparently his “wildly differing behavior” was “concerning.” He honestly wished she’d just go back to ignoring him and staying as far away from him as her incorporeal soul would allow.

The intercom spoke with Nedzu’s voice, unknowingly echoing Shimura’s sentiment. “It was a fair deal, Midoriya. You got what you wanted, and I got my three questions answered.”

Midoriya glared at the intercom and let out a snarl. The only saving grace of those questions was that Nedzu had zeroed in on the wrong part of his answer. He’d learned that Midoriya had been in the military, had been special forces, and had taken part, during that time, in some less than legal biomedical activities as far as the Japanese government was concerned. He didn’t know any details of anything that had happened, nor had he evidently shared what he had learned with Aizawa. He didn’t regret the trade, not really. The rat's information had given weeks of work to his operatives, and several good operations came from it. Nedzu didn’t need to know that, however. “That doesn’t mean I’m not starting to regret the trade.”

Aizawa gave the intercom a hard look, face hidden behind his scarf. “Let’s get going. No need to waste time.”

…

Everyone had their hands on their heads after their “warm up” lap, if it could be called that. Some of the less fit students weren’t doing quite as well and were lying on the ground, panting. The dread had dissipated into excitement once everyone had found out that Aizawa would be teaching. Evidently, their conditioning had been left to their illustrious student teacher. Last week, they’d hated him with a passion. This week, that feeling was waning.

Aizawa had arrived and sent them on a quick warm-up, as he put it. A quick warmup consisting of a two-mile sprint in all of their gear. Had it not been for the last week of conditioning, they mused, they probably wouldn’t have made it through that warm-up. Had Midoriya’s classmates that had refused the red cooler not broken down and started to use it, they wouldn’t have made it, either. Even so, as amusing as watching Kirishima eat two entire ribeyes on his own had been, none of them wanted to experience the clawing hunger that came with the last week again.

Aizawa looked at his stopwatch in one part amazement, one part disbelief. “Well, down to twenty minutes as a class for a two-mile sprint. I’d say last week is showing results. Keep that up. Everyone, gather around. We’ll be covering the basics before Midoriya gets back.”

Uraraka, as winded as the rest and having done only a half-mile walking, raised her hand. “Where is Midoriya, precisely?”

Uraraka, of course, was the only one in her gym uniform, her own being practically destroyed during the last training. Midoriya and Hatsume both needed to help Uraraka completely redesign it from scratch because of the inclusion of her new legs. That wasn’t to say, of course, that there weren’t other changes to the costumes. Both Toga and Jiro had finally been authorized to wear their full costumes.

Two silver lines traced Jiro’s jawbone on either side. A sleek, black, full-body leather coat hid the kevlar lining while the salmon-colored shirt fitting loosely around her frame masked the inclusion of a bulletproof strike plate positioned within a vest underneath. Black pants held a simple black utility belt at the top and led way to polished black, steel-toed combat boots. The entire ensemble was accented with silver rings on all four sides of the boots, the outside of her thighs, on the back of her coat, and on the back of her fingerless gloves.

To the untrained eye, Toga would look like anyone else you might see on the street. To the trained eye, however, even the girl's posture screamed danger. Along her jawline were two black lines with four points of silver. Toga’s leather jacket concealed much the same as Jiro’s, with the exception that it stopped at her waist, just long enough to conceal the addition of a small sub-compact pistol within the small of her back. Within the jacket, itself, were multiple blades inside of hidden sheaths, alongside several tubes that snaked down the lining in her arms to black gloves, concealing the hidden needles there. In addition was the simple utility belt on top of black pants, two obvious blades sheathed on the girl’s thighs, and tough steel-toed black combat boots.

The simpler changes had already been implemented. The halter and lead rope around Tsunotori’s head had been removed after concerns of them being used against the girl, while pouches had been added at her waist. Ashido had her new eye-searing, tie-dye leg pouch. Tsuyu received several new waterproof diver pouches.

Others had yet to receive their new costumes, owing to either complexity or further planning needing to be scheduled. Practically everyone’s costumes had received material upgrades, and Hatsume in particular had made notes to speak to a few members of both Class 1-A and Class 1-B in regards to gadgetry. After quirk training, of course, at Midoriya’s insistence.

“Each day, one of you will be going with Midoriya for quirk training. He’s setting up. Now watch closely. You’ll be following, and you’ll all need to have this down before we move onto sparring.”

…

“WHY. Why ME?” Ashido lamented as Midoriya stood in front of her with his arms crossed and an eyebrow quirked. He had removed most of his gear, leaving only the base layers with the sleeves of his BDU rolled up, his cargo pants, and black steel-toed combat boots.

“You were the first on the list?” Ashido glared at the list as if it had personally insulted her family.

“Stupid list.” Ashido shrugged and seemed to bounce back in an instant. “So, what will we be doing?”

“First, explain your quirk. I have your records, of course, and footage of you at the entrance exam, but that hardly tells the entire story.”

“You have our records? Isn’t that, I don’t know, some kind of ethical violation or something since you’re also our classmate?”

“I’m sure it is, but good luck explaining that to the president or the administration. If it makes you feel any better, I’m a doctor. I handle sensitive personal information every day.”

“Not really, but thanks.” Ashido felt disconcerted but shrugged it off. If the heroes had given Midoriya the information, then it should be fine. “My quirk is Acid. It’s pretty self-explanatory. I make acid. If I make too much or too strong an acid, though, I can burn myself.”

Midoriya nodded and gestured to a block of metal on a nearby table. “Could you demonstrate for me, please? Your strongest acid, if you would.”

Ashido approached the table while pooling her acid in her hand, willing it stronger as she went. When she felt her palm starting to tingle, she tipped her hand and let the acid slip onto the metal. The metal promptly began to bubble as the acid ate its way into the block. Midoriya nodded.

“One more time, please.” Then, when she looked at him funny, he gave a slight smile. “Trust me, this is going somewhere.” Ashido shrugged and, once again, went to pour the acid onto the metal cube. Only this time, when she allowed the acid to pour from her hand, she jerked and gasped in horror when Midoriya slid his arm between the stream and the metal cube.

“Hoo, yeah, okay. That’s brisk. Been a while since I’ve had acid eat my skin off.” The acid bubbled and seared Midoriya’s skin, even as it ate its way through the muscle. Ashido panicked, looking around for any kind of counter agent, anything she could use to deal with the acid. She’d learned early that this kind of thing could happen! She’d been so careful, so why now? Why had Midoriya stuck his arm in the way? She didn’t want him to be scarred. No no no, she kept a counter agent on her right? Why hadn’t she requested it with her costume? Why hadn’t she stuck one in the fancy new pouch?

“-hido. MINA.” Ashido’s head snapped around to see Midoriya staring at her in concern. “Look, hey, it’s fine. I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d react like that. No need to panic. Look, see? Everything's fine.” Ashido’s head turned to look, expecting to find a hole in the man's arm. To find it hanging by a thread. To be maimed beyond repair, him staring at her accusingly. Instead, she found the acid gone, already neutralized, and his arm seemingly knitting itself back together, meat, muscle, and tendon pulsating in the wound. When the goo was gone, Midoriya’s arm was as it always had been, not a burn to be seen.

“H-how.”

“Medicine that is not so dissimilar from what you and the rest of the class have been drinking for the last week. The only difference is that what I have inside of me,” Midoriya pulled a series of pressure syringes out of one of the pouches at his hip, “is designed for combat. It’s faster acting and designed to cut and stitch the body back together from materials preexisting inside of the body. The downside is that the more efficient it is, the harder it is on the body, and the more materials needed for the healing.”

This was, of course, not entirely the truth. The truth was that he was genetically altered to heal rapidly, that he had been injecting himself with tiny machines governed by his general intelligence medical A.I., Sprite, that served to knit him, and the rest of the class, back together. That it was only in the case of large nanite quantities paired with enhanced physiology that they could reach the healing speeds Ashido had witnessed here. He’d definitely be low on practically everything in his body after this training, and it was excruciating to experience.

“Cut and stitch? Isn’t that incredibly painful?” Ashido asked curiously before paling. “We’ve been drinking that?”

Midoriya shook his head. “No, you’ve been drinking low amounts of a medical variant designed for low-intensity maintenance work. We originally designed it for in-house rehabilitation programs. Its only purpose is to perform light repair work as the body goes through low-intensity strain. As for pain, what was caused by the medicine you guys had was less severe than the pain of the exercise. Do none of you read things before you sign them? This was in the waver.”

“What about that medicine, then?” Ashido gestured to Midoriya’s arm. “You didn’t answer. Isn’t it painful?”

Midoriya shrugged. “I’m used to it. “

Ashido began to look more and more excited by the prospect. “That’s incredible, it’s like a miracle cure! You can help fix so many people with that! Are we like a test group or something before it’s used in hospitals? Like some kind of case study?”

Midoriya rubbed his face with his right hand. “I’m going to have to discuss this with the class. How do you sign things without reading them? No, you aren’t a case study, and no, this medicine will never be used in a hospital environment outside of my purview, and only for the most extreme of cases. The pain of anything other than the low-intensity variants would generally drive a person insane, not to mention that this technology isn’t functional without the direct oversight of-” Midoriya looked up at Ashido’s face before realizing he was rambling. “Sorry, irrelevant. Let’s get back to what we were doing. You see? I’m fine.”

Ashido pouted at Midoriya. “Yes, you’re fine. What were you thinking? My acid can seriously hurt someone!”

Midoriya nodded. “Exactly right. What’s the strongest acid you can use on another human without serious injury?”

Ashido stared blankly at Midoriya. “I- I don’t know? I’ve never used higher concentrations of my acid against other people. Just the tingly kind.”

Midoriya nodded again. “And rightly so, but that needs to be addressed. So for today, this is your exercise. You’re going to keep burning me until you find that line. You can’t permanently injure me, as you just saw. And you need to figure out how much strength to put into each scenario. We can’t have you going full or no power. So,” Midoriya gestured to his arm, “get to burning.”

Ashido’s eyes were wide with shock. What Midoriya was suggesting was horrifying. Even if he wasn’t permanently injured, it still hurt. Not just that, but she'd be severely burning him multiple times. She felt sick and started to look it. Midoriya responded to this look by pulling out a trash can and setting it to the side of two chairs, taking one for himself.

“What the f*ck, Midoriya.” Midoriya jumped slightly, even as his head snapped around to where Shimura was poking her head through the wall. “I stop hovering around you for less than an hour to go check around the school and come back to you trying to get a classmate to burn you with acid.” The look of abject shock masked the horror she was feeling.

Ashido glanced toward where Midoriya was staring. “Uh, is something wrong, Midori?” Midoriya faced her with as plain a face as he could.

“No. Just thought I heard something irrelevant and useless.” Midoriya hissed the last word with a glare towards Shimura. “Now, let’s start, shall we?”

…

Later in the dorms, Midoriya sat at the dining room table eating his fourth plate of food while several members of the class watched him from the living area. The wonder of open floor plans, he supposed. Hagakure was the first to voice the question on several of their minds.

“Uh, hey Midori?”

Midoriya raised a brow at the timid question.

“Mmm yes? I am him.”

Laughter bubbled up in the room, and Hagakure seemed to pick up on it. “We were just looking for Mina. We’ve not seen her since she went to train with you earlier. Would you happen to know where she is?”

“Hopelessly sick and desperately trying to forget what she just did in the corner of her dark room?” Shimura chimed in with a fake cheer before scowling at Midoriya. “You know, like anyone does when forced to perform f*cked up training?”

“Oh, yeah. She’s up in her room right now. The training was a little rough on her, so she’s sleeping it off, I think.”

“Oh, alright. I’ll go check on her.” Midoriya gave a thumbs up to her before shoveling more meat and greens into his mouth.

After the attention was off of him and Hagakure was upstairs, he hissed under his breath. “Not forced in the slightest, and perhaps a little harsh but a necessary lesson, so piss off, Shimura.”

“Oh yeah, there was definitely no better way to train what level of acid to use, like, I don’t know, perhaps a f*cking skin substitute? A giant f*cking steak?”

“Then she wouldn’t have gotten proper knowledge of what acidity level causes what level of pain. The woman is a walking war crime and needs to learn to control it yesterday. Now shut up.”

…

Kirishima was a tad nervous. It was hard not to be under Midoriya’s rather withering glare. “Uh, Midoribro? Is there a reason you’re looking at me like I kicked your dog?”

Midoriya’s eyes snapped up to Kirishima’s face before he sighed and seemed to soften. “No, sorry. I just-” Midoriya grimaced. “Why do you not have a shirt with your costume?”

Kirishima shrugged. “I don’t need one. My quirk is my armor, and this way I look manly!”

Midoriya’s deadpan expression gave away nothing. “Right. Somehow I get this feeling you’ll regret that when winter rolls around. Anyway, how do you view your quirk? What kind of hero do you want to be?”

Kirishima hardened his body before striking a pose with both of his arms flexing on either side of his head. “I’m gonna be the manliest hero. My quirk is kinda boring and not that flashy, but I’ll take the hits and make everyone remember me!”

Midoriya smiled slightly. “It’s always useful to have someone that can not only draw fire but take it, as well. You’ll play an important role, and your quirk is plenty useful. But tell me, what are your weaknesses? Do you know them?”

“Well, yeah. My quirk is directly tied to my stamina, so if I get tired, I can’t get as hard.”

Midoriya once again stared at his classmate. He hadn’t said that intentionally, right? “Okay. Well, yes. That is one of them. But you compared it to armor earlier, right?”

Kirishima nodded his head vigorously. “Yup. It’s my own personal manly suit of armor.”

Midoriya nodded and picked up one of the training weapons that he’d set out earlier. A simple single-edged pocket knife. Midoriya held it up for Kirishima to see. “Its edge is blunted, so it can’t cut you. Put up your quirk.” Midoriya waited for him to do so before slashing the blunted blade across Kirishima’s chest. “As we both expected, that did nothing. Just like a good suit of armor to block a slashing attack, right?”

Kirishima nodded, smiling at the display. “My quirk is the best for dealing with sharp edges.”

Midoriya merely raised an eyebrow before grabbing Kirishima’s arm and holding it up. “Yes, well, that would generally be correct. But much like a real suit of armor, there are a few weak points that you need to be aware of.” Midoriya drilled the point of the blunted knife into the gap that was Kirishima’s shoulder joint. Not hard enough to injure but enough to get his point across.

Kirishima yelped as he instinctively jerked at the sensation. “Armor can’t cover every single inch, can’t be one solid plate. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to move or articulate the joints. Now, you might be able to get around this problem by hardening the joints before someone strikes them. We’ll have to test that. But it’s a problem you need to be aware of. Even the best suit of armor has weak points.

Kirishima nodded his head before focusing on the joints in his arm, briefly hardening the entire arm into one solid piece. He let it go after a second. “It’s hard, and it’ll take practice, but I think I can harden the joints, too.”

Midoriya nodded. “Figured it would take you longer to manage that, since you’ve always instinctively not hardened your joints. Noted. The second problem every suit of armor has is blunt force trauma.” Midoriya gestured for Kirishima to harden up again before ramming his fist into the man’s gut. Kirishima gasped, even as Midoriya hissed at his scraped knuckles. “As you can see, just because you’re protected from slashing and, to a lesser degree, piercing damage, armor isn’t fantastic at handling blunt force. While I don’t doubt that you’ve thought about that, I’m willing to bet that you’ve put it out of your mind since, well, who would want to punch a rock?”

Midoriya pulled out a non-blunted combat knife, holding it up to Kirishima. “Something to keep in mind is that even sharps can be used as blunt objects.” Midoriya spun the blade around in his hand, carefully grasping the blade firmly. Gesturing for Kirishima to stick his arm out, Midoriya brought the pommel of the knife down onto Kirishima’s forearm, once again leaving the man hissing.

“Okay, ouch. I can see how that’s gonna be an issue. But wouldn’t that cut you, too?”

Midoriya rolled the blade out of his hand to reveal no cut. “As long as I don’t let my hand slip down the blade, I’ll be fine. This isn’t something you’re likely to run into, but I want you to be aware of it all the same. I’m not sure if you can harden your organs. I can’t really think of any comfortable way to check or test that, either. I’m not even sure it would be healthy if you could, so we’re going to throw that idea out entirely. Let me state something obvious here, you don’t need to take every hit.”

“But that’s the whole point of armor! I take the hits for the others.”

Midoriya shook his head. “Your job isn’t to take hits, it’s to take attention. The fact that you are safer than most while doing it is great, but you don’t have to take the hits to accomplish your goal. So this is what we’re going to do. We’re going to train this exact premise. I’m going to vary attacks of alternating types.” Midoriya gestured to the table of weapons, ranging from knives to swords, and up to good old-fashioned maces and hammers. Your only goal here is to block what you can safely block and dodge what you can’t. We’ll work on the actual attention-getting part later, after you have more combat experience.”

…

Midoriya was relaxing at the table, sifting through another mountain of paperwork when Sero grabbed his attention by waving a hand for him. “Hey, Midoriya. Where’s Kirishima?” Midoriya pointed sideways at one of the couches where Kirishima was face down on a pillow. Sero went over and poked the groaning, now very soft man just as Aizawa gestured Midoriya out the front door for some privacy.

“You need to take Setsuna tomorrow. She nearly killed Shinso today.”

From over both of their heads, sitting on the edge of the awning, Shimura called out, “f*cking BINGO, and it’s only Tuesday!”

Midoriya snarled. “Shut the f*ck UP."

Chapter 45: Chapter #44 | Beasts of the Shadows

Chapter Text

While Aizawa stared at him as if he’d lost his mind, Midoriya sighed and pinched his nose. “Shimura?” A one-word question from Aizawa, his eyes narrowed.

“Unfortunately. She’s… insufferable.” Midoriya paused and collected himself. “Back up. What do you mean Setsuna almost killed Shinso? I thought that today’s training was quirkless sparring outside of my individual session.”

Aizawa stared for a long moment at Midoriya. The man was looking better than he had been before his meltdown, but the last several days hadn’t been kind. Rings surrounded his eyes, getting darker by the day, and either Shimura was being worse than usual, or Midoriya was becoming more irritable. Certainly not something he thought the students needed.

Aizawa shook his head. It’s Nedzu’s problem, and Midoriya’s an adult. He knows how much sleep he needs. “It was at the end of the class, and yes, it was quirkless sparring. We don’t start incorporating quirks until after next week’s rescue introduction. They need Thirteen's deadly quirks speech first.”

Midoriya couldn’t help but snort at that. He was as deadly with his hands as this class was with their quirks. Anything could be a weapon if used as such. “Then what happened? We both know Sekijiro transferred her your way in case you needed to cancel her quirk, but he said nothing of her being unstable. I didn't see any overly violent tendencies from the footage, either.”

Aizawa narrowed his eyes. “Your idea of overly violent and mine differ, apparently.” Aizawa brought out his phone and pulled the security footage from the incident. “When the president reviewed the footage, he told me to show it to you, said that you would know what you were looking at.” Something that was starting to get on Aizawa’s nerves. Any time he demanded answers regarding Midoriya, the damned rat would just smile and wave him off.

Midoriya frowned. “Why would I have any more of an idea than you?” Midoriya leaned into the phone and watched the footage playback briefly. Midoriya’s eyebrows came together, his eyes narrowing. “Was that…”

Aizawa watched as Midoriya pulled a small silver wristband from his pocket and waved him over to the shaded side of the building. The wristband lit up, even as Midoriya spoke softly. “Phoenix, pull the footage from Aizawa’s phone and stream it through the holoband. See if you can’t clean it up while you’re at it.” Aizawa opened his mouth to ask why he was talking to his facility’s A.I. outside of the dorms before his jaw clenched. His phone lit up briefly before blacking out as the security footage projected into the air in front of them.

“Midoriya.” The low growl from Aizawa’s throat clued Midoriya into what he thought was annoyance.

He waved him off. “Your phone’s security is terrible. I’ll get you a better device from my stores later. Now, let's see,” Midoriya eyed the footage, watching it through a second time. Both students were squared off against each other. Their stances could use work. Irrelevant. Midoriya watched as the two began to circle, watched as Shinso’s face passed the camera, his lips moving as he spoke. “He’s taunting Setsuna.”

“A perfectly valid tactic against an opponent.”

Midoriya, again, merely waved as if swatting at a mosquito. “Of course it is. The goal is to survive a fight. Anything that gets you there is valid.” Aizawa wasn’t sure he liked just how set Midoriya was on the anything part of that. “Good tactic… wrong opponent. There,” Setsuna lunged at Shinso, her fingers transforming into razor-sharp talons before pinning him to the ground with a snarl on her face. “Phoenix, right before she stiffens up, please. Frame by frame.”

The two watched the footage as it crept through. A loose fighting stance, tense, tenser. Something unidentifiable to Aizawa in the eyes for only a handful of frames before it was replaced by blown pupils full of fury and teeth. “Son of a-”

Aizawa’s head snapped to Midoriya, even as he cut himself off. “Nedzu was right. You know what just happened.”

Midoriya growled viciously, setting Aizawa on edge. “I have a pretty good idea, and if that’s the case...” Midoriya trailed off, biting his lip hard enough to put in an incisor straight through. Why the hell would Nedzu leave this to me? Did he assume that I’d seen this in the hospital? I’m not a counselor. I have only one method of dealing with aggressive predatory quirks. Does he know more than he’s letting on about me? How? Bullsh*t. If he’s in my personal files, Phoenix or Shadow would have noticed an intrusion. How…?

“Midoriya?” Midoriya shot a glance at Aizawa. “Was Nedzu also correct that you can deal with this?” Those eyes held his for another instant before Midoriya cursed, fists clenching.

“Were those his exact words?” he asked slowly.

Aizawa gave him a confused affirmative. “He stated that you could deal with the problem the way you know how, once you recognized it from the footage.”

“f*ck. f*cking f*ck. He wants it dealt with, does he? Nedzu wants ME to deal with this? Motherf*cking f*cking gods damned f*ck. Fine. But hell if I’m taking her tomorrow. We’re dealing with this now. I’ll get Setsuna, you get Shuzenji. Meet at Gym Gamma?”

Aizawa narrowed his eyes. The intense profanity would normally have him reprimanding a student, but Aizawa got this feeling he wasn’t going to like this. “Why do we need the TDL and Shuzenji?”

Midoriya stalked towards the front door of the dorm. “Because this is going to get ugly.”

…

When Nedzu truly smiled, it upset anyone who saw it. The chimera was the size of a small middle schooler, after all. A furry middle schooler with a maw full of razor-sharp canid teeth. Nedzu smiled now from the back of his transportation as he watched Midoriya stomp towards the entrance of the dorms on his tablet. Midoriya had recognized what Nedzu had. Nedzu had smelt what he thought he had. He hadn’t in the beginning, oh no, not at all. It had begun after Toshinori’s f*ck up. He smelled it now, under the clawing odor of gunpowder, oil, and soap.

Nedzu was just so excited to investigate. It had been so long since a mystery like this had dropped into his lap.Ex-military? Ex-special forces? Perhaps, he certainly hadn’t been lying. But what else? For whom? Had it been the Japanese government? Nedzu wouldn’t be surprised. No, he wouldn’t be surprised at all. After all, wasn’t he another one of their experiments? Or had they been the Commission? It didn’t really matter anymore, he’d long since torn out those scientists' throats himself.

How he loved his two new personal students. One had no moral compass whatsoever, as long as she could create, and oh how he could work with that. But his other? What was Midoriya’s compass?

Nedzu’s driver rolled down the separator between them, shuddering at the manic gleam and sharp smile. “We’re here, sir. Do you need anything else?”

Nedzu waved him off with thanks, dismissing him until his meeting was over. Even as he stepped out of the vehicle, however, Nedzu’s thoughts turned back to his personal student and the young woman he was about to deal with. What manner of beast is he? How would his wonderful mystery student deal with another predator, he wondered. He smelled just like his siblings had. Nedzu chuckled darkly to himself. He knew how he’d deal with another predator in his territory unannounced. Oh, it'll be a bloodbath. Those two should have fun. How wonderful, it’s been a while since I’ve gotten footage of a good one.

…

Midoriya and Setsuna stood in the middle of the concrete, warehouse-sized gym. Both of them had changed into their hero costumes for the second time that day, Setsuna’s with several red stains down the front. Midoriya stood stiffly with his arms crossed, while Aizawa and Chiyo stood by the edge of the empty room on standby. Setsuna smiled nervously at the glare on Midoriya’s face. “Hey, uh, I guess I’m next on the list, huh?”

Ashido had complained loudly that she’d been the first on the “quirk help list” after she’d finally come out of her room. She hadn’t looked very good when she did, pale for the pink-skinned woman and shaky. Every time she looked at Midoriya, she’d jerked her gaze away. Ashido had livined up quickly after realizing that the list hadn’t been alphabetical order and that she was somehow at the top of it. It had, of course, been entirely coincidental, not that anyone could get that information to stick.

Midoriya narrowed his eyes before, to an untrained eye, relaxing and smiling softly. “No, I was going to talk to Shoji tomorrow. You weren’t due to come with me until Friday. But instead, here we are after class hours. I think you know why.” Setsuna winced back as if he’d slapped the girl. He continued softly, “Would you like to tell me why you attacked your classmate?”

Setsuna chuckled restlessly before answering in a slightly higher pitch. “We were sparring, so of course I’d attack him.” Midoriya tilted his head. A wordless gesture to continue that the young woman didn’t take.

“Setsuna.” His voice was as warm and slow as molasses. “Come now, we all know what happened. I saw the footage, Eraserhead was there, and Recovery Girl treated Shinso.”

“He’ll be alright, deary. It looked worse than it was. Head wounds bleed a lot.” Recovery girl chimed in with a gentle smile, not realizing that something was wrong. Aizawa, however, had stiffened beside her, and his gaze was locked with Midoriya’s. The shift hadn’t passed him by. Midoriya had looked like someone had fed him dog sh*t not a minute before. Midoriya was calling them by their hero names.

Setsuna grimaced before seemingly springing back. “That’s great to hear. I’m sorry about using my quirk, Professor Aizawa. I know you said the sparring was supposed to be quirkless, but something Shinso said got to me, and I lost my temper.” Setsuna bowed slightly at the waist to Aizawa, not enough to bend over fully but enough that Setsuna had to strain to maintain eye contact with the man. Something flickered across her eyes, her jaw stiffening as she looked down at the ground. “I’ll accept whatever punishment you and the rest of the faculty decide on.”

With Setsuna looking at the ground, she doesn’t see it. But Aizawa does, and it makes his mouth go dry.

Midoriya’s face had shifted from the soft, warm smile to disgust and disdain. Cold eyes stared down at the woman. Aizawa braced himself as Midoriya opened his mouth, and this time, he was glad he had. “Oh, you lost your temper? Yeah, that’s a great excuse for the quirk-charged attempted murder of your classmate. I’m sure a jury would feel so much pity for you.”

Shuzenji blinked in shock, and Setsuna jerked again. A low growl sounded from her throat that sounded more like choking. She whipped around to stare Midoriya down. He took a step towards Setsuna, his arms dropping to his sides in a relaxed position before he shrugged. “You see, that excuse just isn’t going to work for me, Setsuna. It takes a special kind of person to try and murder their classmate in the name of sparring.”

Midoriya took another step toward the woman, his thoughts and feelings now blatantly obvious. His smile took on a predatory tone, and his eyes filled with the promise of violence. “All I’ve heard are pathetic excuses from a pathetic girl.” Another step. “Oh, I didn’t mean to, I swear I just lost my temper.” Another step and the choked growl turned into a snarl, her lips pulling back around her teeth. “You’ve yet to tell me the truth, Setsuna. Just what do you think you’re doing? I can smell the anxiety. I can smell the fear. What are you hiding? What is your fear?”

Midoriya was right in front of Setsuna now. He was towering over the woman. Aizawa took a step forward, getting ready to separate the two students. Setsuna looked up at Midoriya, near hyperventilating as she warred with her instincts. No, I won't, I can't. Look down. Look away. Please stop. Please back away. Oh god. No No NO NO NO. Snap.

The movement was so fast that Aizawa barely followed it as Setsuna lunged for Midoriya’s throat with her teeth. Even faster, however, was Midoriya’s knee connecting with the woman's jaw, causing an audible clack. Midoriya’s fist connected with Setsuna’s gut, sending the woman rolling several feet before she sprung back up, her hands still on the ground.

Aizawa stepped forward, reaching for his capture weapon before freezing, his blood running cold. Midoriya was looking at him now. “No, no, Aizawa. You just stay riiiight over there. This isn’t a matter for your like to get involved in. Protect our good doctor.” Midoriya cackled a high-pitched sound that turned into deranged laughter as Setsuna charged him again. Setsuna’s skin went first, quickly scaling over. The talons that grew from her fingertips dug into the concrete, propelling her towards Midoriya. Her mouth opened wider than should have been possible, and she clamped down on Midoriya’s left shoulder, using razor-sharp teeth that slid cleanly into his muscle, even through layers of kevlar.

Midoriya’s laughter cut suddenly, but not with any kind of pain or choking. It simply stopped as Midoriya’s head rolled down. He stared Setsuna right in the eye as he growled, his right hand coming up and clamping down on her head with increasing pressure until she cried out and released enough for Midoriya to pull her off of him by her skull and slam her face-first into the ground.

“There you are. The real you, after so much effort. You should have started with this. Maybe it would have made this next part easier.” Midoriya’s words came out as a snarl, a sound deep and primal that set off the fight or flight mechanism in the brain. Aizawa tried to step forward, quirk flaring, only for a knife to embed itself into the concrete at his feet. His breath caught, and he looked up to find glowing viridian pits glaring at him. “Stay right there, Eraserhead, or the next one goes through your kneecap. Turn off your damn quirk. You’re making my life harder, and you’ll only do more harm in this situation.” Like nails on a chalkboard, the voice grated against every instinct Aizawa had honed in his life.

The shoe impacting Setsuna’s chest resounded through the hall with a cracking sound as the young woman was sent skidding across the concrete. Setsuna cried out an inhuman sound, spitting blood across the ground. Her skin quickly shifted back after Aizawa’s quirk had robbed her of her protection, and she glared Midoriya down with reptilian eyes. “I’ll rip out your spine, you-” Midoriya’s hand clamped around Setsuna’s face again, cutting off her words. Talons came up for his face, and Midoriya gripped the wrist and wrenched it and her elbow a full one hundred and eighty degrees, eliciting another inhuman shriek from the lizard woman. The sound of tearing muscle and shattering bone made the old doctor turn around, pale and shaken.

“YOU are not the alpha at this school, Setsuna Tokage. Not even close. You are not on your territory, nor are we on mine. We are on the territory of a creature far, FAR scarier than you can comprehend. Not physically, oh no, we could flay him so quickly. But scarier than you, or I, in other important ways.”

Setsuna wiggled into a position where she could speak through clenched teeth. “I’ll tear his throat out, too, then. Setsuna would have just let that purple little sh*t insult us. He had no right. NO RIGHT. I’ll rip him apart first, then I’ll come for the rat, and I’ll finish by tearing your GOD DAMN SPINE OUT.” Aizawa backed away, his body hitting the wall, eyes wide. What the f*ck was he watching? This wasn’t right, this wasn’t even human. What kind of person was Midoriya to so easily tear into his classmate? What kind of person was Setsuna to so easily yell about murdering three people? First Bakugo, now this? Did they need some kind of psychological exam before the students were admitted?

“No, Setsuna, you won’t do any of those things,” Midoriya snarled at the young woman beneath his hand, even as she jerked, “You aren’t two separate beings, little welp. You are one little girl with absolutely no control of your instincts, clearly. Did your sire teach you NOTHING?” Midoriya punched the ground beside the girl hard enough to shake the entire warehouse and shatter the concrete. A wet, ripping sound came from somewhere that Aizawa couldn’t see.

Aizawa watched the blood pool at the two students' feet, though neither of them gave as much as an inch. How the hell am I supposed to teach students like this? Nedzu‘s knowing look from earlier that day came to mind. He knew, Aizawa realized in abject horror. He could have told Aizawa what was wrong. They could have used quirk counselors, if this was a control issue. There were standard methods for dealing with something like this. Why? Why had he chosen to have Midoriya handle this? He had known it was going to turn out like this. Aizawa realized that his boss had known exactly how this would go and had still chosen to take this route.

“This isn’t a f*cking game, Setsuna. There is no monster lurking under your skin. WE ARE the monsters in our skin. It’s always there, so you have to play the game. I’ll teach it to you, Setsuna. I’ll teach you that line we monsters walk. The game we play to keep the humans from killing us. You have to control the instinct to kill. You have to control the instinct of the hunt.” Aizawa watched a silent shudder travel down both of his students at the word hunt, like some kind of primal pleasure dictated the response. “I know just how pleasurable it is, Setsuna. The thrill. But you need to play the game, am I understood? You need to YIELD.”

The word held power coming from Midoriya’s throat, as some kind of sick whine erupted from Setsuna. The woman’s struggle seemed to intensify for a moment, her good hand coming up to try to rake at Midoriya, only for it to be batted away. Her jaw tried to open on a bite. Her legs came up to try to kick at Midoriya’s back.

“I SAID YIELD.” Midoriya’s free fist once again came down onto the concrete ground beside her head, shaking the building with a meaty, squelching sound. Reptilian eyes bored into Midoriya’s for a moment longer in fear before dropping to the ground as her entire body relaxed and she stopped struggling.

Midoriya let the woman go and dipped his head with a low growl, muttering something only Setsuna could hear as she exposed her neck to him. She rolled over after a moment, crying out. Midoriya sighed and asked a low question. Setsuna affirmed it, seemingly, asking one in return.

Midoriya gritted his teeth before taking her arm in his hand, pulling a cloth from one of his side pouches for Setsuna to bite down on. Aizawa tried to call out, stumbling forward, but found that neither his voice nor his legs were working all that well. A second, sickening crunch was heard that had Aizawa retching. Midoriya pulled some kind of vial from another pouch and, with a low murmur, injected it into the side of Setsuna’s neck.

Midoriya’s voice was rough when he spoke up again. “Go get cleaned up, Setsuna. See Recovery Girl and have her clean your injuries, she stepped outside. Then head back to the dorm. That’s all for today.” Aizawa watched with nauseating dread as Setsuna gave a pleasant sounding affirmation, standing and skipping back to the locker room. She seemed happy about what had just happened. She was smiling. Her arm had been broken like a twig and she’d been brutalized and she was smiling about it. There is so much wrong with this.

Aizawa eventually found his feet and voice again. When he did, he pulled himself off the floor and set a path straight for Midoriya. His capture weapon flew out to wrap around Midoriya, and Midoriya, for what it was worth, didn’t even resist.

“What the f*ck, Midoriya? Give me one god damned reason I shouldn’t arrest you for what you just did.” Aizawa flinched when Midoriya looked at him. Gone was the creature he’d seen, and what was left just looked tired, broken, and exasperated within the bindings. Aizawa wasn’t certain they would stop him if he wanted out of them. Midoriya knew they wouldn’t.

Midoriya’s voice was still rough, as if he’d spent hours screaming into the void. “I could give you several. One is that Setsuna wouldn’t press charges if I told her not to now. The second is that she legally can’t. The student contracts guarantee the right for the teachers to perform nearly any action in the name of training, with a list of exclusions instead of inclusions.” Midoriya spit the word like it was poison. “Third, if I hadn’t done this, Nedzu would have had Setsuna and her family taken out of the equation entirely. Can’t have students that might bring down the reputation. Can’t have them misbehaving.”

Aizawa balked. “They do what?” He hadn’t read the student contracts for the school. He left that to Nedzu. Oh god, I left it to Nedzu. Can’t have them misbehaving? What?

Midoriya looked like his soul had left his body. “No one reads the gods damned terms and conditions. I could put the entirety of Mein Kampf in the terms and conditions and people would just agree, wouldn’t they?”

Aizawa waved that all off, releasing his hold on the man. “What the f*ck was all that, Midoriya?”

Midoriya simply stared at Aizawa, eyes dead. Quietly, he debated his words while he reached over to his arm that had punched the ground. Aizawa nearly threw up when he realized that the white sticking out of the arm was his bone. Aizawa did turn around and throw up when Midoriya simply grabbed his forearm and pulled the bone back into his arm. The sound it made, sliding slowly back through meat and grinding against other bone, would haunt Aizawa’s nightmares.

Midoriya scratched his cheek. “Have you ever seen the death rates at the hands of animal quirk heroes, Aizawa? Particularly those with predatory quirks?”

Aizawa glared back at the man who was the cause of most of his current problems. “Should I have?”

Midoriya offered a noncommittal noise before continuing. “There is a reason they are so high. Oh, no one comes close to the accidental kill rate of our illustrious number two, but they are higher than the average. It's all brushed neatly under the rug, though. So much bullsh*t is.” Midoriya trailed off, his eyes glazing over slightly.

“What does that have to do with what the f*ck just happened here, Midoriya? Why the f*ck would you do this?”

Midoriya gave another noncommittal grunt. “I didn’t want this, never something like this. Not this way. Believe it or not, for aggressive predatory quirks, this is the standard. Except this is supposed to be done when they are young, not adults already. Proper counseling comes later. It’s just usually handled in house by family, and because of the age difference between a parent and a child, it shouldn’t ever get this violent. Apparently,” Midoriya said with unending displeasure, “Setsuna’s quirk is a mutation in her family line.”

Aizawa stared blankly at Midoriya. “That explains nothing.”

“You know what? No. Ask Nedzu. He’s the one that wanted this, after all.”

“You would send me to the president, knowing that if he doesn’t give me a sufficient answer, I’m going to come back and arrest you?”

Midoriya just sighed. “You really do know nothing about your own boss. Whatever, Aizawa, do what you must. Even if you choose to do so, good luck getting the charges to stick. I’ll be in the dorm building if you need me.” Midoriya turned around and headed for the shower.

Aizawa opened his mouth. Closed it. He opened it again. Closed it again. Aizawa watched as the man stumbled into the men's showers. He looked around at the wide stretch of destroyed concrete, blood, and vomit. Seemingly to no one at all, he spread his arms and huffed. “And what the f*ck am I supposed to do with all of this?”

Chapter 46: Chapter #45 | Of Mice and Men

Chapter Text

Aizawa watched from the corner of his eye as Midoriya took Shoji away. He wouldn’t do something like yesterday again, would he? He shook his head. Neither of the other students had voiced complaints, had they? Aizawa glanced over to where Kirishima and Ashido were paired off and shook his head. They both seemed to be doing well enough. Kirishima was even starting to dodge. That was good, right?

The meaty sound of someone hitting the mat hard had Aizawa turning to see who it was that had gone down. He felt himself tense when he saw that it was Jiro that had slammed Setsuna to the ground. Subtly, he shifted his hand into his capture scarf before freezing when he saw the twisted mixture of a snarl and a smile on Setsuna’s face. She was laughing again. She’d just been body slammed into the ground hard enough to echo around the gym and was laughing despite the burst blood vessels blossoming across her skin and in her left eye.

Images came to mind from the previous night of blood and bile. Aizawa shook the images from his mind. Midoriya had told him to consider pairing Setsuna with either Toga or Jiro before they had started. If the two could keep up with the girl, perhaps that's all there was to it. Is it? Is that all there is to it?

Aizawa felt a chill run up his spine. Was that it? Was anything just it anymore? Just how far down did this rabbit hole go? Nedzu had, supposedly knowingly, requested Midoriya to brutalize his classmate. Nedzu had scheduled a meeting with him at the end of Friday, and the students were to have a free study day on Saturday. Was it because it would take all of that time? Was he going to need the time for something? Aizawa, again, shook his head. He was working himself into an early grave with questions he couldn’t answer.

He glanced at the door Midoriya had taken Shoji through. What didn’t he know about Midoriya? What was Nedzu keeping from him? What didn’t he know that he needed to know?

…

Midoriya stared at Shoji for a long moment, his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed. The large man returned the stare with a deadpan that would put poker professionals to shame. “Personally, I don’t believe you need help right away. I do not believe that what I saw in the entrance exam footage was a problem, as I believe you are smart enough or have enough common sense to have dealt with it, were it a problem. Because of this, I don’t really have anything to work on right now. Instead, there are a couple questions I have to ask.”

Shoji quirked an eyebrow up but generally remained neutral. “Alright.”

“When you have one of your limbs amputated, how injured do you become?”

Shoji’s other eyebrow came up now, surprise evident in his eyes. “Is that what this is about?”

“Several instances were noted, during the entrance exam, of the robots either mutilating your limbs or of you removing them yourself.”

Shoji shrugged. “I mean, it hurts, but not as much as if I actually lost a limb. When I grow them, I don’t tend to put nearly as many nerve clusters in them as are in my actual body. My quirk seals up the wound, too, so I don’t lose much in the way of blood. Even if I did bleed, I could just grow some more limbs with blood and let it flow back to me.”

It was Midoriya’s turn to be surprised, and he put down his sheet of questions. “You can freely control the growth to such a fine level as determining the nerve clusters?”

Shoji shrugged again. “Not entirely, but if I focus on it, I can affect it.”

Midoriya let a small smile come to his lips. “And how good are you with pain? With body horror?”

Shoji was back to his deadpan. “Seriously? I look like this,” Shoji pulled down his mask revealing a mouth spread to his cheekbones, “and removed my limbs in an exam. I would think I’m pretty good.”

Midoriya smiled widely now, a slightly manic gleam in his eyes. “Well, Shoji, you won’t be able to use it in front of civilians, but I think I know what we can work on today.”

…

“So.” Uraraka drew out the word even as she followed slowly behind Midoriya, glancing back over her shoulder at the class. “Why is Present Mic subbing in for Professor Aizawa today?”

Midoriya gestured vaguely in the air. “Has a meeting with Nedzu right about now-ish. Mic’s just subbing in for today.” Hopefully. “Now, as we talked about before, your quirk is…” Midoriya trailed off looking for the right word, “special. That was before you had your surgery, as well. So what we need to do today is take your baseline again before we even start working on your quirk.”

“Why would the new legs change my baseline? The recovery drugs?”

Midoriya shook his head. “Now here’s the thing, it normally wouldn’t. But, and this is only a minor development that theoretically shouldn’t have any effect but could have an effect if your quirk functions in some kind of new bullsh*t way that I-”

Uraraka sighed. “What precisely could have happened with my quirk?”

Midoriya winced before sighing, himself. “As a part of the surgery, and in preparation of more complicated prosthetics, you were grafted with a secondary redundant nervous system, as was in your information packet. But if your quirk was putting a strain on the nervous system, be it the energy or the mass or whatever, and that is what was making you nauseous, you would theoretically have a much higher tolerance than you did before. Among other things.”

“Well, that sounds amazing, but what do you mean among other things, precisely? What else am I looking at potentially? The information packet was wonderfully sparse on details other than it was necessary, now that you bring it up.”

Midoriya winced before laughing nervously. “Well, certain things may improve. You know, baseline stats, body temperature regulation, reaction time and reflexes, memory and learning speed…”

Uraraka stared at the nervously chuckling man in front of her and narrowed her eyes. While that all sounded wonderful, she was getting a bad feeling. “Midoriya, how many times have you given someone a redundant nervous system?” She regretted the question as soon as it came out of her mouth.

Midoriya’s face froze before shifting back to a carefully neutral expression. “Enough that you are in no threat of something going wrong. Now,” Midoriya shifted and grunted as he picked up a cube from a metal rack before setting it on the ground in front of her, then another, and a third, each cube about two feet in each direction. “Those are solid tungsten. Float them until you start to feel sick.”

Uraraka stared at the large blocks of metal, even as Midoriya stepped away and turned to some kind of sensor array. They weren’t especially large cubes, but something told her they were exceptionally heavy. Uraraka reached out and tapped the first cube, feeling her quirk settle over it and watched as it floated up to eye level before stopping. Uraraka reached out, tapping the second and third, not thinking the first was that bad.

MISTAKE. Massive Mistake. Nausea hit her hard almost immediately. The retching in her throat calmed itself in a moment, and Uraraka took a deep breath. “I’m good. I’m good.”

Midoriya eyed Uraraka and the floating cubes with a gleam in his eyes. “Fascinating, how fascinating. Could you step on that pad for me over there? Keep the cubes floating, please.” Uraraka shuddered under that inquisitive gaze but stepped onto the pad, all the same. Midoriya’s eyes lit up again and he smiled, scribbling something onto a notepad. “What was your weight limit before this?”

“Uhhh.” Uraraka thought for a second before giving a rough estimate. “About two and a half tons, I’d say. Give or take.”

Midoriya chuckled slightly. “Well, you’ve certainly gone over that. Those tungsten cubes are about three point two.”

“Tons?” Uraraka asked, surprised. It didn’t feel comfortable by any means, and she was pushing up against her limit, but she hadn’t lost her lunch yet.

Midoriya gave an affirming grunt, even as he squinted at his screen. Midoriya pointed some kind of wand at her before looking between her and the screen, still squinting. Midoriya put down the wand and passed her a trash can. “Try removing your own gravity, please.” Midoriya pointed the wand at her again.

Uraraka scowled and gestured to the trash can. “Expecting me to fail?”

“It’s the mother of success.” Uraraka rolled her eyes. She was close to her limit, but she could manage her own body weight still, as long as she wasn’t trying to move. Uraraka pressed her hand to her own skin and promptly lost her lunch in the trash can. What the fu-

“Fascinating, how fascinating.” Midoriya scratched away at the notepad. Uraraka gagged, her temper flaring.

“Want to clue me in here, Midoriya?”

“In a moment. Float yourself, please?”

Uraraka’s lip nearly curled in response, but she restrained herself from retorting. Instead, she collected herself, wiped her lip, and tapped her hand against herself again. Uraraka felt a tug across her body but was otherwise surprised to find almost no nausea from floating herself anymore. Uraraka’s eyes widened, even as she found herself annoyed at the scratching of Midoriya’s pen again. “Now do you feel like cluing me in? What precisely is going on here?”

Midoriya stopped scribbling notes down and turned, smiling. “Your quirk is bullsh*t is what’s going on. You don’t have a weight limit. No, wait, that's not entirely true.” Midoriya thought for a second before he started speaking again. “As I said before, you appear to have the ability to manipulate both mass and momentum while entirely disregarding the item's inertia. You are not removing the mass from anything. Those cubes still each weighed a ton and some change, even floating there. Your quirk is somehow completely disregarding the fact that that much weight shouldn’t be floating in the air. The downside is that your quirk is putting a proportional strain on your system, the more mass and momentum that you are canceling.”

Uraraka scrunched her brow. “That doesn’t explain why my relatively little mass and momentum was the tipping point when I wasn’t near my limit.”

Midoriya’s eyes gleamed maniacally. “Unless, of course, floating yourself is subsequently your quirk pushing everything into the surrounding area. You weren’t just floating yourself. You were floating yourself and three cubes and then pushed all of that onto the surrounding area.”

Uraraka crossed her arms from where she was resting in the air above the metal plate. “That makes no sense at all.”

Midoriya waved his arms before letting out a small oh and retrieving one of the cubes with a grunt. Midoriya presented it to Uraraka. “Here, float this at the same time. If I’m correct, then it’ll become obvious real quick.”

Uraraka gave the cube a wary look before slowly reaching out and tapping its surface. Once again, Uraraka had a single thought. MISTAKE. The woman gagged in mid-air. The weight was a third of what she had been lifting with her quirk before, but it felt like she was lifting all three. Uraraka found herself cracking her eyes open at the sound of whooping laughter. “I’m right! And it is utter bullsh*t.”

“What- urp.” Uraraka took another deep breath. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is that that cube,” Midoriya pointed at the spinning tungsten block. “Still weighs a ton and some change.”

“Yes, and? Isn’t that exactly what you were just saying? I don’t remove the mass from the objects?”

“Yes,” Midoriya drew out the word. “Except now, everything in a foot radius around you also weighs a ton and some change.”

Uraraka’s jaw dropped. “Bullsh*t.”

The manic gleam in Midoriya’s eyes reached his smile now and made him look crazy. “Exactly! And I don’t know how that is even remotely possible. What I do know,” Midoriya reached across the table before pointing a revolver at Uraraka, “is that I HAVE to test this.”

The gun cracked as Uraraka screamed out in shock, her arms instinctively coming up to cover her face. A long moment passed and Uraraka heard more maniacal laughter. “What the f*ck, Midoriya..” Uraraka’s eyes snapped open again, her teeth set on edge even as she yelled.

“Oh, don’t be a sourpuss. It's a cap gun, and it wasn’t aimed at you.”

Uraraka's jaw dropped and she pointed at the tungsten cube that had moved from beside her to directly in front of her. “Did… did you do that?”

Midoriya smiled again now, his mouth stretched wide around his teeth. “Nope, but I know what we’re practicing today.”

…

Aizawa stared across the desk at the chimera calmly sipping his tea. The chimera stared back at the man he could easily consider to be the head of the heroics department, assuming they bothered to pick one, if not the next in line to run the university. “So, what brings you here, Aizawa?”

Aizawa could already feel the frustration of dealing with Nedzu. “I think you know what I’m here for.”

Nedzu’s blank face gave Aizawa nothing, even as his narrowed eyes searched for any hint of emotion. “I’m afraid that despite how intelligent I am, Aizawa, I’m still not a mind reader. You are going to have to give me something to go off of here.”

“The student contracts?”

“You signed off on them. If you have a problem with them, then you’ll have to bring it up the next time you’re supposed to read them, hmm?”

“Midoriya’s military service.”

“Exceedingly useful in training a new generation of heroes.”

“Setsuna.”

“Doing quite well in your class the last couple of days, don’t you think?”

Aizawa stared at Nedzu as the chimera stared back, taking another sip of tea. “I know you have the security footage from Gym Gamma. Did you or did you not instruct Midoriya to deal with Setsuna’s behavior using such a method?”

Nedzu gave a long, suffering sigh before putting his cup back onto its saucer with a clink. “I had hoped he would deal with that matter more privately. There wasn’t exactly a need to get you involved, nor was there a need to get Recovery Girl involved with Setsuna’s natural regeneration. Though I suppose you being her professor gives you a good enough reason to be involved.”

Aizawa felt his eye twitch, even as he tried to quell the mixture of anger and horror stirring in his gut. “You instructed your own personal student to brutalize a member of the hero course as behavioral correction.” It wasn’t a question so much as a shocked statement.

Nedzu rolled his eyes, flicking a wrist nonchalantly. “Oh please, it was necessary for Setsuna’s situation that she be put under a dominant immediately, preferably one under our current control.”

Aizawa had to physically swallow to keep himself from yelling at his boss, especially as he calmly took another sip from his tea. “Please explain,” Aizawa bit out through clenched teeth, “how tormenting a student is an appropriate punishment for attacking another student.”

Nedzu’s brow shot up, even as he chuckled. “Is that what you think that was? That wasn’t a punishment, Aizawa. It was course correction at its finest, a reward for Setsuna to be under Midoriya, if anything. He’s turning out to be a fantastic person.”

“Explain.”

Nedzu took in the clenched teeth and barely veiled anger with a sigh. “Animal quirks are unique to each individual, Aizawa. Just because someone might share Gang Orca’s quirk doesn’t mean that they would experience it the same or, for that matter, even look the same. Instincts are a fickle thing, and with predatory quirks, they tend to be even worse.”

“Midoriya mentioned something about predatory quirks having higher kill rates than others.” Aizawa watched as Nedzu grimaced. “He also mentioned that they get swept under the rug.”

Nedzu rocked his head back and forth in thought. “Well, he’s not wrong. No one really cares that the man with the manatee mutation is grazing his way down the coast. But if Gang Orca tears a chunk out of someone’s throat when they’re fighting? A prominent mutation quirk, high in the rankings, killing a villain without just cause? Well, let's just say the government and HPSC think it’s best for everyone if these kinds of stories simply go away.”

Aizawa felt his stomach turn. Just how many of these stories were covered up if Nedzu could speak so casually about them? Was it simply exposure? “What does that have to do with Setsuna?”

“Ah, yes, right. We were speaking of your student. Generally speaking, instincts are trained and dealt with by the family they are born to. Families with animal quirks in their trees are tight-knit groups. The few quirk counselors specializing in these kinds of situations are known to these families. The children grow up with strict structures and learn how to handle their instincts. They are directed towards positive outlets. Setsuna never had this guidance, her quirk being a mutation in her family tree, as it is. Her records are clean, as well. She’s been fairly well behaved, first in her class and sports. Have to be the best, I can understand that.”

Aizawa pinched his brow. “But why did that require Midoriya’s actions?”

Nedzu sighed again. “Do I have to spell everything out for you? Two predators cannot exist in each other's territory for an extended period of time outside of close friends and family. To Setsuna, she was surrounded by threats. Midoriya, myself, your other students, you. She needed to either be on top of them with all others subservient or to be put in her place. Midoriya did precisely that. Now she rests comfortably underneath Midoriya in the hierarchy. Midoriya gives her her orders, and she trusts him to take care of her. Just as these things should be.”

Aizawa was quiet for a long moment. He was preparing himself to acquiesce when something else Midoriya had said came to mind. “And if she hadn’t accepted it? If there were still a problem?”

Nedzu’s eyes gleamed as he bared his fangs. “Then I’d have fed Setsuna and her family to the giant plague rats in Madagascar.”

Aizawa’s veins lit on fire, feeling as though someone had injected him with ice. “That isn’t a funny joke, Nedzu. Her misbehaving doesn’t warrant the death penalty.”

Once again, Nedzu rolled his eyes. “If only Midoriya had kept his mouth shut. Though I suppose his needling of my operational methods to you is the least he could have done, considering that he didn’t want to become Setsuna’s alpha.”

Aizawa's skin felt clammy and his mouth felt like he’d been sucking on cotton balls. His boss had all but admitted to planning his student's murder. “How many?”

Nedzu looked up from pouring his tea and co*cked his head. “Hmm? How many what?”

Aizawa struggled to find his voice once more. “How many have you dealt with, Nedzu?”

Nedzu leaned back in his chair and once again bounced his head from side to side. “So much you don’t know, Aizawa. Underground hero and yet you don’t know even half of the players of this great game. Mind you, that is the way that we want it, but it still must be upsetting to know just how little you really know. Here, look at this.” Nedzu leaned forward and tapped several of the keys on the keyboard in front of him with his claws. The rhythmic tapping and clicking ended a few seconds later, and he turned the monitor. “Recognize this student, Aizawa?”

Aizawa stared for several seconds before it clicked for him. “Mihara Susumu, I booted him from the hero program because he wouldn’t have survived more than a year with the effort he was putting in.”

Nedzu chuckled lowly. “Yes, well. Mr. Mihara here took the transfer to general education a bit worse than you had expected. Oh, he was fine for the first couple of weeks, the time you generally spend monitoring them after the transfer. But not too soon after, he got hooked on Bliss.”

Aizawa cringed. “I thought we’d practically eradicated that from the streets.” Bliss was a horrific co*cktail of hallucinogens, date rape drugs, sexual enhancers, paralytics, and tranquilizer dense human blood that had been developed during the Urban Wars. Aizawa had been glad to see it cracked down on, and cracked down on hard.

“Practically eradicated doesn’t mean it is impossible to acquire. Snipe tracked the young man to a drug den in the slums. I offered him a simple choice. Rehab or to disappear forever.”

Aizawa jerked to his feet, mouth open, but froze when he saw Nedzu pointing a single claw at him, jerking it back down towards the seat. A wordless gesture that didn’t need explaining. “He chose rehab. That footage of him is in one of our outpatient rehab facilities. He made the right choice and with his help, we’ve developed several new drugs capable of helping Bliss users.”

Aizawa snorted derisively. “Oh, that’s so much better. Death or human experimentation.”

Nedzu pinned him with a cold stare, lips peeling back in a soundless snarl. “If I were you, Aizawa, I’d be very careful with accusations of experimentation. Everything that has been done was with the subject's direct approval.” Nedzu closed his eyes and took a deep breath with a long sip of tea before flicking his wrist again. “Those that choose to improve are fixed. Otherwise, they don’t need to worry about it. Besides, if we didn’t take these measures, the government would. U.A. is one of the three major hero institutions when you include the universities in the RUSA and the EF. We are both a shining beacon for the country and an important part of national security. We can’t afford any stains on our reputation if we are to maintain that security.”

Aizawa could feel the anger churning in his gut. “Even at the cost of human lives?”

Nedzu just sighed, cup clinking as he put it down. “This is why you weren’t informed. Far too many of you humans are far too emotional. Almost eight thousand deaths an hour and you focus on the wrong part of it. They made the decisions that led them to that end, Aizawa. I can list you a dozen active SSS-Class supervillains across the world, some of whom have had more of a positive impact on their areas than their own governments do. Two are in our own nation. Our own government both condones and sanctions black book operations on our own soil weekly. The commission is so corrupt that a serial killer has a point. A few students who can’t be bothered to keep their own houses in check are the least of my concerns, Aizawa. My loyalty is to this institution and to my own.”

Aizawa licked his lips. “I should stop you. I should go to the media. Do something.”

Nedzu just rolled his eyes and took another sip of his tea. “And risk reprisal? No, you are a smart man, Aizawa, and when you get past this initial shock, you’ll see the logic behind my actions. Sometimes you humans simply need a little course correction. Otherwise, you end up doing regrettable things, after all.”

“I resign.”

“No. No, you don’t.”

Aizawa stood and turned, walking from the room. He couldn’t breathe and felt like he would throw up everything he’d ever consumed. His pulse pushed well past safe levels. I’m working for a monster. The questions that were plaguing him now, though, echoed in his mind. Just how much more was he missing? Did he even want to know?

…

Nedzu watched as Aizawa stalked out of his office, as pale as a ghost. Truly what was that man thinking? Hmm, on second thought. Nedzu tapped several keys on his phone before placing it in front of him.

“Sir?” Snipes's voice connected after just a moment.

“My meeting is over. Keep an eye on Aizawa. Report if he does anything regrettable.”

“Ah can do that. Any… further actions?”

Nedzu thought about it for a second. Perhaps taking Hizashi’s leg off with something higher caliber as a warning? Hmm. “No, I don’t believe so. Just report, I’ll decide from there.”

“Can do, sir.” Nedzu smiled. Perhaps Midoriya had done him a favor. It would be useful to have one of his favorite people know how things really worked in the world.

Chapter 47: Chapter #46 | A Different Sort of Day

Chapter Text

Kaminari didn’t know why classes had been canceled this fine Saturday, but he had no plans on wasting it. Two entire days off from class and class work was exactly what the doctor had ordered after the week of training everyone had had. Waking up an hour later than would have been possible otherwise, Kaminari gave a long stretch and a lazy grin. Yeah, that’s the sh*t.

The young man practically skipped downstairs at the smell of food and wasn’t disappointed when he found a plentiful feast of bacon and eggs on hot trays in the dining room. Various members of the dorm were scattered across the room, the living area, and the kitchen. All of them were in various states of eating. Kaminari quickly grabbed a plate and reached for the eggs, but a voice calling out from the bar interrupted him before he could even reach them.

“And good morning to you, too, Kaminari. When you finish breakfast, you’re with me for a while.” Kaminari froze and slowly turned his head, praying that the voice he'd heard wasn’t real. Midoriya stared blankly at him over the coffee mug that he'd lifted to his lips. Kaminari felt his Saturday plans shatter even as he dropped to his knees dramatically.

“Nooooooo-” Kaminari cut off as Ashido slapped him upside the head, hissing.

“Too early for that.” Her narrowed eyes and pointed finger had Kaminari putting his hands up nervously.

“Come on, Midoriya. I thought today was supposed to be a free day.” Midoriya nodded his head along with Kaminari’s statement.

“You’re right. It is a free day, and for everyone else, it has already begun. For you, however, it starts after we deal with your quirk training. Relax, though. It's not so much training as an extended discussion. You’re the last one before rescue week begins on Monday.” Kaminari physically drooped.

“Fiiine.”

Midoriya hid his amusem*nt poorly behind his coffee mug, even as he glanced to the side. Silently, he flagged down Iida, having come in the front door. “Back from your morning run, Iida?”

“Indeed!” Iida’s arm chopped down again. “It’s a perfect way to start the morning!”

Ashido groaned into her food. “Why do we have so many morning people in this class?”

“It is integral that we, as aspiring heroes, get the correct amount of sleep, Ashido! We must also keep up with our conditioning and get into the habit of rising early!” She groaned again into her food.

“There is food for everyone, Iida. Grab yourself a plate and leave Mina with her food.” Midoriya turned his head slightly, calling out into the common area. “ Momo, Uraraka, Hatsume says that your new outfits are complete. Tsu, Shinso, Hatsume has design ideas for you two and Kirishima.” Midoriya waited for the man to look over from the bacon he was stuffing into his mouth. “You apparently have some material choices waiting for you, something about your waist cape thing. Aizawa wants all of you to head to the support department and check in with them sometime this weekend.”

Midoriya got an affirmation and nodded before tucking back into his food.

…

Kaminari shuffled in his seat. Across from him, Midoriya was skimming through a manila folder and making small annotations in the margins. “Alright. Well, as I said, this won’t so much be training as a discussion. Describe your quirk for me.”

Kaminari stopped fidgeting, surprised. “Oh, I thought you were using like, one of those logical ruses or something, like the start of the semester to get me in here?”

Midoriya quirked an eyebrow at him. “How are you all supposed to trust me if I mislead you constantly? Especially for something like this?”

“Point, I guess. Well, I generate electricity.” Kaminari raised his hand, displaying the electricity arcing between his fingers. If I push too much out of me, I get really out of it, though, and I can’t aim it like, at all.”

Midoriya nodded his head, still annotating in the folder. “And what’s the longest that you’ve been ‘real out of it,’ as you put it?”

Kaminari shrugged. “I’ve never really timed it. Try to avoid it, you know. I don’t like the gaps in my memory. Same reason I don’t drink very heavily.”

“And what does your current voltage look like?”

“Last time I checked, at my maximum, I was putting out something like a million volts and some change.” Midoriya’s eyes snapped up at that, his eyes widening slightly.

“Please tell me you haven’t tried using your full voltage while in contact with someone.”

Kaminari shook his head. “No, I’ve never needed to. Why?”

Midoriya nodded again, seemingly relieved as he set his pen down. “Do you want to know the reason that this is a discussion and not a training session, Kaminari?”

Kaminari shrugged, feeling that the question was rhetorical, rather than a legitimate one. “I’m not opposed to it, whatever the reason.”

Midoriya chuckled lightly. “The reason is that the quirkless hand-to-hand training you guys have been drilling for this last week? That is your training. You said you couldn’t aim the electricity, and if you push too much, then you get stupid. Why do so then?”

“Because I need to shock the villains?”

Midoriya quirked his eyebrow again. “Kaminari, you're a walking human taser. Now, I’m all for having a ranged option, but the air is an awful electrical conductor. There is a reason you can’t aim it very well. Not only that, but we need to retake your voltage measurements, because either you are reading that measurement wrong, or, if what you’ve said is true, then you need to seriously reign it back, else you’ll kill your classmates.”

Kaminari blinked in shock at Midoriya. “What? Kill them? It’s just a bit of electricity, and if air is so bad at conducting electricity, what about lightning?”

“What? What do you mean how does lightning work? Dielectric breakdown is how-” Midoriya froze, looking up. Slowly, Midoriya voiced his sudden worry. “Kaminari, did you take physics in high school?”

Kaminari grimaced. “I mean, I did start Physics 1, but I couldn’t ever understand any of it. Letters get jumbled enough as it is, and all those symbols and numbers, too? I just couldn’t get it. So they transferred me out.”

Groaning, Midoriya’s hand smacked into his face. Kaminari blinked. “Kaminari, have you ever told any of your teachers that? Exactly that?”

“Tell them what?” Kaminari tilted his head slightly in confusion. “That the symbols were getting jumbled?”

“Yes.”

“Not recently? Why would I?” Midoriya let out a long, suffering sigh. “What? Isn’t that the same for everyone? My elementary teachers always just told me to go back to my desk.” Kaminari grew concerned when Midoriya, eyes closed, began smacking himself with the edge of the folder

“One thing at a time, it is. Physics is integral for someone with a quirk like yours. As is electrical engineering, which you’ll want to look into alongside your hero courses. It’s how I know that if you are correct and you really are putting out a million volts, you would be outputting around a hundred thousand milliamps through direct contact with another person. It takes barely one hundred to stop someone's heart, and that’s if they aren’t wet. If they are wet, that figure would be something around a million milliamps.”

Kaminari blanched at the numbers. “That would be… bad.” Midoriya hit himself with the edge of the folder again and sighed.

“Yes, that would be bad. Secondly, I’m going to ask you a series of yes or no questions. Answer them quickly, please. Do you read slowly compared to others?”

“Yes?”

“Did you have trouble learning to read?”

Kaminari thought for a second before nodding. “I guess, yeah, but I’m just not bright.”

Midoriya stared blankly at Kaminari at that comment. “How often do you feel like you have spelling mistakes in your work, even after spell check?”

“All the time? But I do, though?”

Midoriya stared, simply stared at Kaminari for a long moment. He fidgeted anxiously until Midoriya spoke again, slowly this time. “Alright, we’re going to put a pin in the quirk discussion until a later time. Right now, we’re going to head over to Hound Dog’s office and have him test you.”

Kaminari jerked. Why do I need to see the school psychologist? “Why do I need to be tested by the school shrink?”

“Because you aren’t stupid, Kaminari. You’re dyslexic.”

…

“Hatsume!” Uraraka yelled across the support lab. The woman in question popped up and out from under the… Uraraka didn’t actually know what it was supposed to be. The frame of some kind of vehicle, she thought possibly, was suspended from the ceiling in one of the mechanical bays.

“Legs!” Uraraka winced at the name. Even if she knew Hatsume meant nothing by it, the wound was still, metaphorically speaking, quite fresh.

“You know Midoriya wouldn’t be happy with you calling me that, Hatsume.”

Hatsume blinked owlishly before nodding. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Hatsume tilted her head down and to the side to speak to someone who was seemingly working on the same frame. “Setsuko, your converter looks good, just double-check your wiring going into it before giving it a test. Otherwise, you’ll fuse the wires to the system and fry all of it.” Hatsume extracted herself from where she was working and gestured for Uraraka to follow.

“What exactly was that thing?” Hatsume pulled a black case from a nearby storage locker, even as she grabbed a clipboard and began jotting down notes as she walked. At the question, Hatsume briefly glanced over to Uraraka before flicking her eyes back down to the clipboard.

“Third-year student, Kuno Setsuko. She got excited when she got the chance to work with our company's smaller energy storage cells and decided to try working on an old hover engine mock-up she created in her first year. It’s rough, stupid rough, but if it works, it could be revolutionary.” Hatsume shrugged her shoulders, setting the clipboard down and picking up the case before handing it to Uraraka. “Working or not, she’s got a job with our aeronautics department if she wants it.”

“Riiight.” As interesting as that was, Uraraka was more interested in what Hatsume had just handed her. “Is this?”

“Right you are. Those are some prosthetics to go with your new hero costume.” Hatsume pointed at the support lab’s changing room and tossed Uraraka a set of locker keys with an id tag. “If you want to get changed, we can check over the costume and test the new legs. Izu wanted to be here for that but left me instructions, instead. Apparently, something came up.”

…

Uraraka stepped out of the locker room to half of the support students standing by in wait. Black and silver lined the edge of Uraraka’s jaw, the metal connected to the black undersuit that trailed down her neck and disappeared underneath the main outfit. Uraraka’s new costume looked reminiscent of the G-Suits that fighter pilots would wear with a few key changes. Gone was the skintight latex and in its place was a baggier, black and white suit covered in buckles and pouches. Where there would generally be air bladders, one would find thin, pink-accented polymer plates protecting vital points and disguising the thicker protective fibers and plates hidden underneath the surface of the suit. Thick, fingerless gloves covered her hands as the steel in the knuckles protected her delicate joints, all while leaving her quirk available for use.

The most important parts, however, were the four tubes connecting the suit to her new legs. Two on each leg—barely two, maybe three inches from the suit to the top of the new prosthetic—sleek black and armored legs designed to mimic the look of combat boots with small silver circles interspersed along the length.

The class whooped and cheered, startling Uraraka even as she walked back towards Hatsume. Hatsume seemed to have been having the same discussion with the newly arrived Yaoyorozu and jumped at the noise. Hatsume scowled before turning and looking towards her. The scowl turned into a smirk.

“Looking good there, Uraraka. I’ll give you the rundown in a moment.” Hatsume spun back around to Yaoyorozu. “I don’t know what you were thinking, keeping that back-breaking hell-tome literally against your spine, but the new interface should be working now. Go ahead and give it a test. If everything is to your satisfaction, then pack it back up and you’re free to go. Otherwise, stick around and we’ll address the issues.” Placing the keys to another locker in Yaoyorozu’s palm, Hatsume turned to Uraraka, gesturing her into one of the testing chambers.

“Questions. Go.”

Uraraka immediately fired her most pressing one at Hatsume. “Why do I feel like these legs are filled with bees?”

Hatsume winced, looking sheepish. “Yeah, that's to be expected and also why Midoriya wanted to be here. The new legs are currently cleared as high-level support gear because they theoretically should provide you with the ability to fly, or, well, float quickly.”

Uraraka felt a headache coming on as she was reminded of Midoriya. “Hatsume, say it clearly. What exactly do these legs do?”

Hatsume slapped her fist into her open palm with an oh look on her face. “Right, I haven’t told you yet. It’s a lot like we just gave you a tail. Embarrassingly, Powerloader and a few of the students pointed out to us that we don’t need to give you a lot of thrust because we’re dealing with a weightless object. Went completely by both Midoriya and myself. These just use air currents to theoretically move you. It also lets us inflate the air bladders in your suit as needed using the small computer system inside the suit. The legs are connected directly to you through the prosthetics, as are the new abilities. The buzzing you’re feeling is likely your brain trying to adjust to what may as well be a new limb.”

“You two can’t ever make things simple, can you?”

“What part of this seems like it could be made simple?”

“Touche. How do I use them?”

“Well, you’ll want to use your quirk on yourself. I’ve got no clue on that one. Izu just said to feel it out and that it would take a fair amount of training before you’ll be comfortable using it in the field.”

“Wonderful. By the way, why was everyone staring at me and cheering?”

“Huh?” Hatsume glanced over from the door and waved her hand. “Oh, a couple of the students got to work on your costume. They rarely get to see the costumes they work on modeled for them. Usually, they just come back to us destroyed and with complaints. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I’ll be right back. I think someone is yelling for me again.”

Uraraka frowned before tapping her hand on herself. Well, let's test this out.
…

Hatsume stepped out of the testing room only to be met with the blank stare of a frog. Hatsume startled before chuckling. “Damn it, why?”

Asui took a step back before blankly croaking. “Midoriya said that you wanted to see me?”

Hatsume rubbed her eyes. “What? Oh, right. One of the support students showed me a few designs that I thought you’d want to look at. Transponder beacons, several gauges of marine flare, that sort of stuff. Besides that, I took a look at that thermal regulator of yours. We have a redesigned mockup of it that I want you to test out.”

“Does the support lab usually test out improvements to our hero gear?”

Powerloader called out from across the room before Hatsume could respond. “No, Asui. They tend to only occasionally do it upon request. Hatsume’s just made it her mission to review your class' gear.”

Asui just shrugged. “As long as things don’t get added or changed without my approval, I’m fine with it.”

Hatsume sputtered. “I’m an engineer, not a used car salesman. I'm not going to make you take anything yo-” A resounding thump came from the testing room behind them, causing Hatsume to peek her head back into the room. Crumpled against the base of the far wall, Uraraka groaned on the floor.

“I’m good. I’m good.” Hatsume gave her a thumbs-up and a grin.

…

The two classes trickled into the lecture hall slowly. Aizawa knew that they were undoubtedly coming in only after seeing the room change notice posted on the door of their normal classroom. When Midoriya entered, Aizawa silently pulled a flask from his left nipples pocket. He took a slow drink before sliding it back into place. Aizawa met the eyes of his coworker standing beside him. He arched an eyebrow.

“Want some, Kan?”

Sekijiro blinked at him slowly. “No, I don’t believe so. Isn’t it a little early to start drinking, Aizawa?”

“You’ll want some, too, later this week.” Aizawa glanced at the clock before clapping his hands to gain the attention of the students. “Alright, everyone. Welcome to the first Rescue Week of your time here at U.A. As you may have noticed, both 1-A and her sister class, 1-B, are here right now. At the behest of several concerned individuals,” Aizawa’s eyes briefly flicked across Midoriya and landed on Shuzenji at their side, “we’ll be doing things a little differently this year. Normally, we’d have taken all of the classes separately to the USJ for your rescue introduction.”

Vlad took over from there, and the students' eyes moved to him. “But, instead, we’ll be spending Monday through Thursday this week with two classroom guests, gaining a crash course in first aid,” Sekijiro gestured to Shuzenji, “and rescue later this week from Thirteen. This will culminate in a joint trip to the USJ on Friday. Any questions before we begin?” Several students raised their hands and, seeing who it was, Aizawa and Sekijiro both had to bite back groans at their respective students. It was going to be a long week.

Chapter 48: Chapter #47 | Edge of Duty

Chapter Text

When Sekijiro saw that Aizawa was keeping his class past the regular end time, he was initially curious. The professor stayed that first day just long enough to realize that they were extra lessons. It surprised him that none of the students moved from their seats or decided to not participate in the extra classwork. On the second day, Sekijiro had thought that he and the administration were doing his class a disservice by not offering them the same option, deciding to request that the students' sister class join 1-A in their optional extra class time.

Sekijiro approached Aizawa on the second day of rescue week. Aizawa stared blandly as the blood hero made his appeal, and Sekijiro gritted his teeth, thinking the worst. Instead, Aizawa simply, and equally as dully, told him that it wasn’t optional for the students of 1-A and to ask Midoriya and Shuzenji, as they were the ones teaching the extra time block. Sekijiro had received surprised looks from the school nurse and Midoriya when he'd made the request, but after only a second of deliberation, they had agreed. Midoriya just had to make a note to bring in more lab materials on Thursday.

That was the first Sekijiro had heard of any kind of lab planned for rescue week outside of the USJ trip at the end of it. When he questioned it, both Aizawa and Shuzenji shuffled awkwardly while Midoriya just shrugged. “1-A is on a separate teaching plan from 1-B.”

That had been the first time Sekijiro had heard of that, as well.

The class began that day following the general guideline that had been set out for the week. Day two was dedicated to first aid training, nothing too intensive nor as time-consuming as the optional extra credit first aid course, but overall, Shuzenji was pleased that she finally got to give a general first aid lesson to the new heroics students. Perhaps she’d have fewer students coming in with injuries made worse by stupid mistakes.

Sekijiro was pleased to see that most of his class had taken up the offer of extra education. They had lost a few, of course, when it was revealed just how much longer this class would run into the night, but there were always those few that would turn down free extra classes. He wasn’t overly concerned. You got out of college what you wanted to get out of it. Sekijiro was surprised to see that all of 1-A had stayed seated, though. Not only that, but they had almost universally adopted expressions of dread.

Two claps rang out clearly across the room, originating from the front where Midoriya was stepping forward with a congenial smile. “How wonderful it is to have more students for our lesson today. In the previous four hours, we’ve covered basic first-aid treatments. These are the kinds of treatments that you’ll use in your day-to-day. In the next couple of hours, we’ll be covering something a little different.” Midoriya turned to write on the whiteboard in large, bold letters. Field Medicine.

“Does anyone have any questions before we begin?”

One of the students from Class 1-B, blond and condescending, began, cutting through the silence with a sneer. “Yeah, why is someone from 1-A up there? What makes you qualified to teach us? Anything you could teach us, we could teach ourselves.”

Midoriya took a deep breath, indulging in a cold smile. “You must be Monoma. People enjoy talking about you.” The blond preened at that. “Not enough of it is good.” Monoma’s preening turned to shock before quickly settling into a scowl. Midoriya continued before the blond could open his mouth again.

“To answer your question, I have multiple doctorates in relevant fields, as well as experience in the topics that we’ll be discussing.” Monoma’s lips pressed into a thin line. “And before you can continue to make incorrect assumptions,” Midoriya tapped the insignia on his shoulder, “I’m not a student of 1-A, but I am learning alongside them, as well as performing as a student teacher to them where relevant.”

Midoriya glanced across the class to see appraising looks and surprise. 1-A just looked like they wanted to get on with the lesson so they could go do their exercises and get back to the dorms. “Any relevant questions for us today?”

A young woman with honey-brown hair spoke up next. “What precisely do you mean by 'field medicine?'”

Midoriya smiled at the question and nodded before beginning. “The basics of first aid were taught earlier. This, however, will be an introduction to Tactical Combat Casualty Care. TCCC is something that was originally developed by the United States before it was standardized across their allied forces during the Third World War, or as you might refer to it, the first segment of the Quirk Wars. For 1-B, this is something that is covered more extensively in an optional second-year course. For 1-A, this is an introduction to mandatory course material during your second year. We want you to be aware of its existence, even if you won’t be making use of it in its entirety during this year. The full course will see all of you getting a TCCC-ASM, CLS, or MP certification, depending on what you are aiming for and your prior experience. It should be noted that this will be taught to everyone in 1-A after we get everyone their EMT certifications. That will be about a six-month course. We may condense it, depending on how the class does.”

Sekijiro spoke up with scrunched eyebrows as Midoriya paused. “Why precisely are these courses not optional for 1-A this year?”

Midoriya gave a small, apologetic smile. “The rat overlord has decided that this year's Class 1-A will be following a different teaching style and course load than in previous years. In the end, it comes down to figuring out which is more conducive to producing higher quality heroes.”

Monoma spoke up again with a snort. “So we really get to prove we’re better tha-” The blond was cut off as a hand cracked against the side of his head with a hissed shut up. Sekijiro frowned. Rivalry was one thing. It could be good for the classes to push themselves, but he didn’t want needless hostility.

“As I was saying,” Midoriya smiled and began again as if nothing had been said. “We’ll be covering a major part of T triple C today, and that is the MARCH algorithm.” Midoriya wrote the word out on the board and turned to continue speaking. “Remember this mnemonic. It could save you or your friends during a combat situation. Massive hemorrhage, airway, respiratory, circulation, and finally, hypothermia: MARCH,” Midoriya wrote each word out on the board before putting the marker down and turning once more.

“This is not tailored to mass casualty care. This, MARCH, is found generally in TCCC courses, as well as advanced trauma life support courses, and it details the steps in which we need to take care of the injured to provide the best chance of their survival. I’d like to say something right now, though. Don’t let me catch you performing these procedures on a civilian if you have a wounded team or squadmates that need tending to. It’s hard to swallow, I know, but the first priority is always keeping yourselves alive. You can’t help anyone if you or yours are dead.” A fair amount of uncomfortable grumbling sounded from the audience, but Midoriya continued before they could be bogged down by it.

“First, with massive hemorrhaging, we follow the four D's,” Midoriya once again wrote on a separate part of the board. “Detect, direct pressure, devices, don’t dilute. Secondly, airway control. Let me remind you that the patient needs their airway to survive. Third, respiratory support. Now that you have confirmed their airway is clear, it's time to make the assessment of the respiratory system. Are they breathing? Do they have a sucking chest wound? Do we need to decompress their lung?”

Midoriya chuckled lowly, waving his hand in a vague dismissal. “I can see some confused faces. Don’t worry, we aren’t expecting you to know all of the terminology right now. Recovery Girl and I will be explaining and defining things as we go. For those of you that are more hands-on learners, we’ll be having a lab for the students that stick around that long on Thursday before our trip to the USJ.”

“Now, where was I?” Midoriya bent his head and upper body backward in a casual show of flexibility to read the board upside down. He smiled as he earned a few chuckles from the class. “Ah, yes. C as in circulation.” Midoriya’s head returned to its normal position, and he continued with the introduction. "From this point, we’ll be identifying other non-life threatening bleeds, their pulse, and blood pressure. Shock assessment and treatment will also be addressed here. Finally, we hit H.”

Midoriya let his eyes casually roam over the students before locking with Todoroki's and holding them. “Hypothermia, a key part of the trauma triad of death, alongside H+ and hypocoagulability. It is a critical factor in trauma care that isn’t often discussed in EMS. When you lose large amounts of blood, you also lose large amounts of body heat. Who knew? Head trauma also falls under H, and we’ll cover that, as well. Hypoxia, hyperventilation, hypotension, hypoglycemia.” Midoriya turned and gave their resident medical expert a smile and a brief gesture for her to take over.

…

The third day wasn’t any easier for the students to process, and Vlad had noticed several of them looking sick or shaken as they left the classroom following their morning lessons. He didn’t blame them. Disaster response wasn’t an easy topic at the best of times. Just as the afternoon before had started, Midoriya began by walking up to the short stage in the front of the room, but this time paused, instead taking on the side role as Shuzenji stepped up to address the group.

“Hello, dearies. As Midoriya would put it, we’ve spent the last several hours talking about disaster response and its procedures. Now, however, we’ll be getting into a much darker side of things, and one that, as heroes responding to a disaster site, you’ll need to have considerable training and expertise in.” Shuzenji wrote lower on the board, her words smaller than that of the student teacher but still plenty readable for the class. Triage.

“This is a…,” Shuzenji took a moment to look for the right word, “difficult topic for many heroes, both prospective and active members of the field. We are told so often that we don’t get to decide who lives and dies, and yet that is exactly what you are being asked to do here.” The old doctor began to write on the board while she spoke. “In disaster situations, you are going to be dealing with a potentially unknown number of victims in an unpredictable number of states, from scratched to deceased, an unknown infrastructure capability, and an unknown but likely insufficient quantity of supplies. To make things worse, you need to be able to decide within, ideally, ten to fifteen seconds.”

Shuzenji stopped writing and underlined yet another mnemonic for the class to remember. SALT. “Sort, assess, lifesaving interventions, and treatment/transportation.” She tapped each letter once with her cane before she turned fully back to the students watching and continued. “The responder needs to first confirm their situation. If this was a natural disaster, then they would more than likely be able to start into these procedures directly. If the situation were, however, the consequence of a villain attack, then the responders would need to secure the area first. It is not pleasant ignoring calls for help, but you cannot manage to help those in need while you are under attack.” The young adults looked uncomfortable at the thought but nodded in agreement. It was understandable, if distressing.

“When they arrive at the site, the first thing responders are going to do is call out for anyone that can hear them to come over. These are the walking wounded. The responders will ignore them.” The class stiffened, and several even made questioning remarks, which were waved off by Midoriya.

“Those that can walk to you are responsive and not in distress. There should be a responder watching them to make sure no one’s status deteriorates, but they’ll be the ones you assess last. They are the ones most likely to live.” The class was silent again, and Shuzenji nodded to Midoriya before speaking once more.

“This is part of the reason it is so hard for a good hero to perform triage. You are taught and trained that each and every person must be saved with no distinction. But life is not quite as clean as that. The ones that are not coming to the responders but are making purposeful movements and calling out to them, they will be ignored, too.” The classes stiffened further but didn’t make any comments this time. A young woman with vines for hair put her hands together in prayer as Shuzenji continued with pity in her eyes.

“The ones that are not moving are the responders' first priority to tag.”

“Tag, kero?” A short question from Asui had Shuzenji nodding.

Midoriya held up a tag for the class to see, even as Shuzenji began to explain. “In an ideal situation, you’ll have these. They help identify to the responders what status each individual has been assigned. There is no standard for these, however, and you may not even have them on hand. I’ve seen a dozen ways of doing it. Colored tarps, tape, tags, cloth, and even spray paint. You make do with what you have.”

“The first thing that the responder will look for is any obvious sign of life. If there is contrary evidence readily available, such as some form of major head injury, decapitation, exposed brain matter, and the like, they are tagged black as deceased.” Grimaces were seen across the crowd. “The next steps as the responder begins treating those in critical conditions are to control any major bleeding, ensure that the airway is open, and to decompress the chest if needed. If it is a case of chemical attack, biological attack, or some form of leak, the responder is to give auto-injector antidotes. If the individual is a child, the responder may give them two rescue breaths after opening their airway. If they are not breathing after this, pulse or not, they are tagged black.”

Several members of the audience began turning green. Shuzenji turned and wrote four questions on the board. Is the bleeding controlled? Not in respiratory distress? Has a peripheral pulse? Obeys commands or makes purposeful movements?

“If they are breathing, then that’s great. The responder will use these four questions as a guide. If the answer to all of them is yes, then that’s especially great. They are either a green tag or a yellow tag, standing for minimal or delayed treatment, respectively.”

Shuzenji turned and sighed, looking out at the students that were beginning to appear as if they had aged during the lesson. “If any of those questions are answered with a no, then the responder has one more important question to ask themselves. Is this person likely to survive given the current resources? If the answer to that question is yes, then they are the first priority in treatment. They are the ones that need medical attention first. If the answer is no…,” Shuzenji trailed off with another sigh. “If the answer is no, then no matter how they look or how much their friend begs you to help them, you have to tag them black as expectant. They are not going to make it.”

Silence reigned as that sank in. Several students looked like they wanted to cry, while others just looked angry. Both are all too common in the medical field. Shuzenji frowned before deciding to continue the lecture.

…

Nedzu was scowling when he returned to his office and to his two personal students. If only he’d had the opportunity to skin a few of the reporters that had dared break down the gate to his school, to barge onto the university's property. What he wouldn’t give for a few minutes alone with their station heads. You know what? I’m going to get a few minutes alone with them.

Nedzu glanced at his students, even as he opened his mouth to apologize for the interruption to their lesson. He stopped when he saw the barely restrained displeasure. “Is something wrong, my students?”

Midoriya's lip curled unexpectedly as he practically snarled his words. “The cameras across from the gate caught something.”

Nedzu quirked an eyebrow as he responded. “What did it catch?”

Midoriya gave a bit of a smile to his snarl. “I’m sorry, Nedzu. I can’t say, due to a few specific accords.”

Nedzu got the message. His eyes widened as the fur along his spine stood up and his own snarl began.

…

Students milled around the buses as they arrived from the locker rooms. They had been instructed to don their gear and get ready for the USJ. The final lecture of rescue week had culminated in graphic footage from crisis sites, as well as training with replicated injuries for each student on training dummies that were entirely too human-like for any of their pleasure. After learning the survival rates on makeshift tourniquets the previous night, several of the students had put in requests to add basic medical supplies to their gear.

Aizawa patted his breast to check that his flask was there, even as he called for the class presidents to begin loading onto the bus. Yaoyorozu’s costume had seen major alterations under the purview of Midoriya’s partner. The same kind of undersuit that had been worked into many of her classmates' costumes had been added to hers. Starting at her lower ribs, the upper part of the outfit covered her like a crop top with a slightly higher trim on the lower back. Now a pair of black and red cargo shorts were worn over the lower half of her undersuit. Pouches and belts hung from Yaoyorozu’s hips and gone were the heels that had plagued her until now. In their place, thick rubber-soled and armored combat boots came up her calves. Armored plates covered her knees while leaving the back of her legs open for creation.

She had decided to lean into the weapons training that she had shown promise in, and the sleek red and black polymer plates covered not just her knees but also protected her shoulders and right forearm. Her left forearm was home to what Hatsume had called her tacpad. Of its many uses, the most important was the chemical library that she had gained, allowing her to access her knowledge without carrying a heavy book around with her. Although, she was still testing to see if she comfortably use the visor that Hatsume had designed to link into it. She liked it, but its similarities to ski goggles, even with the thin frame and clear, blue-tinted visor, rubbed her the wrong way.

Yaoyorozu was beginning to question where Midoriya was when she caught sight of him walking towards the bus. She had to do a double take. Standing at his normally startling six foot two, hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, Midoriya's armor pushed the image of what a hero should look like.

Undersuit peaked out between the gaps of thick metal plates coated in a white polymer finish. Silver traced the line of his jaw while meeting the undersuit that showed up his neck. Above, two metal rings circled and covered his ears while connecting against the silver on his jaw. On top, they sprouted backward into two thick antennas, almost reminiscent of bunny ears. A similar tacpad was embedded in the metal of Midoriya's left forearm and above the articulated plates on his fingers that stopped at the gloves' fingerless tips. But what caught Yaoyorozu’s eyes among the myriad of metal plates, beyond the pouches, hard and soft, was the sheer number of weapons she could count on him. Sidearm in a holster on his right thigh, combat knife on his right hip, and what looked like a hatchet hooked to his left. Another combat knife rested on the upper left of his breastplate, and finally, a sleek rifle hung over his back. Emblazoned on his right shoulder plate, one could find a silver half-moon with a single black cat sitting in its crook.

“Sorry about that,” Midoriya grumbled lowly, taking a sip from a cup of what smelled like coffee. “My gear finally got its final authorization, and it took another hour of arguing to actually get it out of Powerloader's workshop.”

Aizawa spoke up from the doorway of the vehicle before Yaoyorozu could respond. “Get on the bus, Problem Child. We’re waiting on you and the blond moron.”

Midoriya grimaced while climbing aboard. “All Might won’t be joining us for a while.” Thank the Gods, Midoriya muttered under his breath before continuing. Subtly, he held up three fingers to Aizawa. “He got sidetracked this morning by several villain attacks. He’ll be late.”

Aizawa sighed, tucking his face into his scarf. “Why Nedzu even made him the 1-B heroics teacher is beyond me. Alright, load up, Yaoyorozu. That's everyone.”

The drive was peaceful. For all of four seconds, before the students began talking. Conversations of all kinds were scattered between the heroes-in-training. The open seating plan on the bus lent itself well to group conversations. Asui leaned forward in her seat and spoke. “Why do you have firearms for a rescue exercise, Midoriya, kero?”

Midoriya cracked an eye open and looked at Asui before noticing that most of the class had started listening in after the question. He sighed and rolled his head forward from where it was pressed against the glass behind him. “A few reasons. One, as was mentioned in the triage lecture, a responder may have to secure an area depending on the circ*mstances of a disaster. Second, this is,” Technically, he mutters, “new gear. Same reason we had you all running in your gear, I need to get used to having it on me. Finally, I just don’t like not having my weapon on me for field work, regardless of the kind.”

A couple of the students shuffled uneasily in their seats, and Midoriya quirked an eyebrow. “Is it the gun that makes you uncomfortable, or is it weaponry in general?”

Kirishima responded after wiggling his hand back and forth, palm to the ground. “I just don’t think guns are very heroic, you know? You could easily kill someone.”

Tsunotori shrugged. “Heroes back in America use guns all the time. Reminds me of States.”

Midoriya nodded at both. “I think it's partially a cultural thing and partially a practical thing. Kirishima is right that I could easily kill someone with a firearm. That’s the point. Even Snipe could, despite his quirk. When a bullet enters the body, fragmentation can behave unexpectedly and kill someone, even if I put the shot into their leg. Snipe uses rubber bullets outside of extreme circ*mstances, which are far less lethal but still have their problems. That is why shooting someone is, even for cops, the last option available.” Midoriya opened one of the pouches on his chest before pulling a loaded magazine out and tossing it to Kirishima.

“Hatsume and I have been working to address that problem. That ammunition is the current iteration of our solution and what the third-year students here at U.A. are training with. It's designed to deliver a dose of synthetic neurotoxin derived from the Gympie-Gympie plant. Feels more or less like actually getting shot. Nonlethal, albeit incredibly painful.”

Iida went slightly ashen. “The giant killer plants that are fighting against the Australians?”

Midoriya shook his head. “No, the original form of the plant that still exists throughout much of Malaysia. Of course,” Midoriya drew another magazine out of a different pouch and showed it to the other students. “I do still have live ammunition, but it’s a last resort sort of situation.”

Kirishima tossed Midoriya’s magazine back and, as he tucked them away in their pouches, Kaminari asked a different question. “Is the new kind of ammo why your rifle looks strange? That doesn’t look like any kind of rifle I’ve ever seen.”

Midoriya glanced over and let out a small oh. “It's just made with an integral suppressor. All of my ammunition is subsonic, as well. Don’t want to hurt anyone's ears, my own included.”

“Why are you carrying so much? Two guns, two knives, an axe, plus whatever is in all those pouches…” Uraraka questioned, trailing off.

Midoriya shrugged. “More than just two knives. I’ve got smaller ones tucked around for throwing. Old habits and all that.” Midoriya didn’t elaborate anymore and, eventually, the class went back to talking amongst themselves. That is, until Toga and Jiro pointed out that they were also carrying a half dozen knives tucked away on their bodies.

…

Midoriya stretched as he stepped off the bus, 1-A unloading behind him and 1-B unloading from the bus just behind theirs. He saw Aizawa walking over to speak with Sekijiro and Kurose. The number three and the shaking of heads. Yaoyorozu and her vice president made their way over to Kendo and Shoda. Midoriya caught a snippet of conversation from Jiro questioning if Tsuburaba was wearing casual clothes. Apparently, it wasn’t his fault that 1-A seemed to have standardized their costumes. The disparity in costume quality was something Monoma was loudly bemoaning, much to everyone's growing annoyance with the man. Shimura had apparently decided to make herself available for yet another stint of time as she floated around the students, nodding here and there.

Eventually, the students were all shuffled inside the doors of the USJ, their excitement beginning to build as they glanced around the massive structure. Midoriya heard an excited whisper from Kaminari to Sero about Universal Studios. He could practically feel Kurose glaring at him from where she stood. They’d had… an argument, is what he would call it. Their opinions differed heavily on the use of lethal force. Kurose was determined that it should be a last resort, while Midoriya, well, Midoriya was more than willing to use lethal force if it meant the threat to others was resolved. He had his reservations, but those reservations had been shaved down far too much for most heroes' comfort. Kurose was more uncomfortable than most, and Shimura was by far the most vocal.

Thirteen stepped forward, arms wide as she began her speech. “Hello, students! It’s wonderful to see so many bright faces here with us today. Flood zone, landslide zone, and conflagration zone. Every disaster and accident you can imagine can be simulated here. I built this facility myself to train young heroes like yourselves in the art of rescue! Welcome to the Unforeseen Simulation Joint!”

Midoriya felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck when he noticed Uraraka vibrating in place so violently that he almost thought she was going to phase through the ground. Kaminari threw his hands up with a "woop."

“Now, before we get started, I have one or two points to make. Or three, four…” Aizawa rubbed his eyes before sighing, even as the classes stood attentive. “As I’m sure many of you are aware, my quirk is called Black Hole. I can use it to suck in and tear apart anything.”

“You’ve used it to save people from all sorts of disasters!” Uraraka was somehow vibrating even faster now, much to Midoriya’s concern.

“Indeed. However, my power could easily kill, just as I’ve no doubt that there are some among you with similar abilities.” Multiple students shifted uncomfortably as others stared down at their hands.

All too easily, Shimura muttered behind him.

“In our society, the use of quirks is heavily restricted and monitored. We must never forget that it only takes one wrong move with a quirk for people to die. This class will show you precisely how to use your knowledge and quirks to save lives. Your powers are not meant to inflict harm. I hope that throughout your time here at U.A., you can reach the understanding that you’re meant to help people.”

Aizawa stared blandly at the group. “Great. First off,” a shrill shriek pierced the earpieces of 1-A and those of 1-B who had communicators. Midoriya’s hand clapped over his headset with a grimace, his eyes drawn to the swirling black hole in the courtyard of the USJ. A swirling blackness that he recognized.

Aizawa pulled up his goggles and yelled at the classes as Sekijiro stepped forward beside him. “Huddle up and stick together. Thirteen, Midoriya, protect the students.”

Kirishima squinted as he looked down into the courtyard of the USJ. “What on earth is tha-”

“Stay back. Those are villains.” Sekijiro put his arm out, blocking any of the students from stepping forward.

A villain covered in hands stepped forward, scratching his neck. “Where is he? All Might is supposed to be here, isn’t he? I see three professors but no All Might. I wonder if some dead students will have him running over here?”

Shimura had frozen, eyes wide as she stared down into the crowd of villains, but that was hardly his problem right now. Midoriya stepped up next to Aizawa, pulling his rifle into his hands. He spoke lowly. “Be careful, the one covered in hands has a five-point disintegration quirk. The man covered in smoke has a strategic-level warp quirk, at least. The hulking behemoth, I don’t know about, but I don’t like the look of it.”

“Thanks. We’ll discuss this later. Now get the rest of the students out, we'll hold them off.”

Midoriya nodded stiffly but clapped a hand on Aizawa’s shoulder. “Yes, sir, but don’t go dying on us just yet, Eraserhead.” Aizawa gave him a smirk and leaped up the stairs alongside Sekijiro.

Midoriya turned to move back towards the class “Alright, folks. This isn’t a test or a drill. We need to get back through the doors and to the buses. My own communications are jammed. Anyone's working?” The class began to make their way towards the door as he heard several negatives, then their questions.

“Who would be dumb enough to sneak into a school for heroes?”

“What’s going on?”

“Are they going to be okay? They can’t take on that many villains on their own!”

“Thirteen, aren’t there sensors to detect intruders?” Midoriya nodded at that one. Quick thinking on Yaoyorozu’s part.

“Of course there are, but the sensors don’t seem to be working. Otherwise, the alarm system would have been tripped.”

“More than likely some kind of wide-area, low to high band jamming quirk.” Midoriya stated, even as the students discovered the doors locked and sealed. “sh*t. Thirteen, how thick are these doors? Can you get through them with your quirk?”

“Thick enough that it’ll take me a couple of minutes.”

“I won’t allow that.” Midoriya spun, bringing his weapon up and level with the golden yellow eyes of Kurogiri. “Greetings. We are the League of Villains. Forgive our audacity, but today we’ve come here to end the life of the Symbol of Peace.” Kurogiri’s eyes swept over the crowd of students.

“We were under the-” Kurogiri froze in his speech the moment his eyes landed on the royally pissed off expression that was Midoriya’s. “Well. I wasn’t expecting you to be here, Mr. Midoriya.”

Why the f*ck does he recognize you, Midoriya? Shimura hissed in his ear, making Midoriya’s eye twitch.

The students that were positioning themselves to jump went rigid as Midoriya narrowed his eyes. “Nor was I expecting you and your brat to have the audacity to attack U.A., but here we are. Is this on your boss's orders?”

Kurogiri’s smoke wavered as he shook his head. “No, this is something the young master has chosen to do on his own, and as such, my orders come from him.” Kurogiri’s smoke began to spread around the students. “We were expecting the Symbol of Peace here today, but it would seem his schedule has changed.”

Thirteen’s hand snapped up, and a cap popped off the end. Midoriya grabbed her arm, gritting his teeth. “Don’t,” he muttered. “He’ll just turn it against you.”

“My role remains unchanged.” Midoriya yelled to the class to move, even as the smoke changed into gates. “Begone and be scattered.”

A resounding cry was heard as students fell into varying portals.

…

Hatsume brought her head up and away from her project with a jarring force, her hand slapping against her ear as a static shriek echoed. Annoyed, she pressed the communication device just below her ear and spoke. “Phoenix, what the hell was that?”

A moment of silence passed before Phoenix responded, sounding disconcerted. “I am not sure. I have just lost all contact with Father and the rest of the students at the USJ.”

Hatsume felt a chill run up her spine. “Confirmed?”

Another moment of silence. “Confirmed. No contact can be established with any devices located at the USJ.” Hatsume was already moving and giving orders to have Dabi put their headquarters into lockdown. She grabbed Maijima’s arm and pulled him back into his office. Maijima appeared concerned but said nothing Hatsume hadn’t shown any behavior such as this in the past.

As the door closed between them and the rest of the support course, Hatsume hit a button on Maijima’s desk phone. “Nedzu, you listening?”

“I am, Hatsume. What is the-”

“We’ve just lost all contact with the USJ.”

Nedzu set down his cup of tea. He had been in the middle of lecturing Toshinori on time usage when an emergency call from the support lab came through. “Well, that is concerning. Do you have any idea of how this could have happened?”

“No. Our communicators are special. They are a prototype technology using experimental quantum-entanglement methods. It’s not really QEC technology, but Midoriya got us close. A simulated QE connection that is currently expensive and difficult to produce, as well as needing a central hub to manage the connections, besides the-”

“Hatsume, you’re rambling.” Maijima placed his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to get her to take a breath. She did.

“Nedzu, conventional jamming technologies wouldn’t break communication. You can’t even wiretap it. It’s one of the reasons the military wants our help developing their communication infrastructure. Nothing short of a powerful, high-altitude EMP or a powerful jamming quirk could have broken communication. Since everything is still working here…,” Hatsume trailed off, but Nedzu had gotten the message.

“It would seem that we have uninvited guests at the USJ. Thank you, Hatsume. Powerloader, report outside with your gear.” The connection clicked off, and Hatsume was once again moving towards the armory they kept in the support lab.

Hatsume was already loading an automatic with live ammunition when Maijima caught up to her, putting a hand on top of the rifle. “Hatsume, you need to stay here and take care of the class. Let the faculty deal with this.”

Hatsume gritted her teeth and glared at him before yanking the rifle out of his grip, loading a magazine and racking a round into the chamber. “Fine.” She forced the rifle back into his arms by the barrel. “But if a single one of them doesn’t make it, then I'm taking it out on your ass, Maijima sir. Take that and these,” Hatsume shoved several more loaded magazines into his hands, “and give them to Snipe in case he needs them.”

Maijima gave a single short nod and took off out the door as Hatsume rounded up the class.

…

The evasion boosters in Midoriya’s armor gave a small, fiery burst, and he hit the ground and rolled, bringing his rifle up. Ruins Zone. Midoriya took note of his surroundings, the hollowed-out buildings and dilapidated structures crumbling to the ground. Dust was heavy in the air, along with the smell of old, stagnate ozone. Ruins, ha. This just looks like the Niigata slums.

Midoriya moved forward, eyes and rifle scanning the buildings as he went. Shimura was blessedly quiet at the moment, seemingly stewing on her own problems. A heavy crack echoed through the air, and moments later, a scream sounded from somewhere to his right. In a moment, Midoriya was running. He turned the corner to find Yaoyorozu and Kirishima standing in front of Bondo, who was holding an unconscious and bleeding Yanagi. Shiozaki stood behind them, hair writhing. Around them stood enough villains to make even Midoriya blink. So he did what he was best at. He opened fire.

…

Kaminari felt the wind whip around his head as he fell from the portal. Right, great. Where am- Kaminari’s thoughts were cut off as his body hit the icy water of the flood zone. He nearly inhaled the water, his body gasping at the temperature change. Spinning, he tried to figure out which way was up, only to come face to face with rows of razor-sharp teeth. In his panic, the world flashed and turned to gold.

…

Asui had seen Kaminari fall into the water of the flood zone as she dragged 1-B’s class president aboard the boat. Luckily for her, their vice president had landed on the boat and helped her get Kendo up and onto the deck. There was another splash as a male body hit the water.
“Honenuki,” Shoda said rather succinctly.

“I’ll get hi-” Asui was cut off as the world flashed in front of her eyes, a deafening crack echoing across the flood zone. She blinked a few times to clear her eyes before the bodies began to float toward the surface of the water. She blanched, realizing what had just happened. “f*ck.”

Before Shoda could ask, she was back in the water, swimming towards the spot where she’d seen the two men punch through the surface. Grabbing their bodies, she pushed herself to swim as quickly as she could back to the boat. The two men fell to the deck first as she flung them out of the water, quickly followed by herself. Shoda was staring wide-eyed at the two bodies. Kendo was already struggling towards Henenuki, while Asui rushed to Kaminari’s side.

Kaminari was coughing up water with a dopey smile, and it was almost enough to set Asui at ease until she heard Kendo speak. “f*ck, he doesn’t have a pulse. I’m starting CPR. Shoda, see if you can find medical supplies on the ship, and look for an AED. They should have one on board.”

Kendo began the motions of CPR as she spoke, and Asui ran to her side, ready to swap when she needed it. Shoda came back pale. “There isn’t anything on the boat. It’s a shell meant for training. There's only a radio in the main cabin.”

Kendo swore. “What the hell are we going to do? Even if we keep his heart pumping, we’re going to wear out eventually, and who knows how long it’s going to take for the heroes to arrive? We need an AED to shock his heart back into rhythm.”

“We’re going to have to wait for Kaminari to pull himself together, kero.” Kendo and Shoda glanced over at Asui in question.

“He was the one that let off that electricity. If he tones back the discharge, he might be able to act as an AED.”

“And how long is that going to take?”

“I don’t know, kero.”

…

Midoriya really didn’t want to switch to live ammunition. The situation didn’t call for it. But as he clubbed another villain over the head with his stock before shooting another in the knee, he really contemplated the benefits of putting the fear of death into the remainder.

Shiozaki had tied several villains in thorns, and Kirishima was panting over the bodies of several others. Yaoyorozu had valiantly been fending off those that got too close to Bondo and Yanagi with Bondo sealing them to the ground when they were knocked down. Midoriya shot another in the throat, and he heard the telltale sound of nothing being fed into the chamber. He spun, getting ready to club whoever was next, only to find that they were out of enemies. “Oh.”

He hadn’t had time to count during the fight, but if this wasn’t all of the villains in the zone, then he had a bad feeling about how this was going to turn out. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to Bondo and asked simply, “How bad?”

Bondo shook his head. “D-don’t know. She t-took a pretty heavy hit to the head.” Another deep breath.

“Anyone else injured?”

Shiozaki raised her hand to her eyebrow, where she was bleeding. “I got caught at the same time as Yanagi, but she took the brunt of it.”

“Are you good to move?” A nod from Shiozaki was met with one of Midoriya’s own.

“Bondo, are you good to carry her?” Another nod.

“Right, we need to get her back to the entrance. Stay behind me. I’ll take point. Kirishima, guard our rear and keep an eye out. Momo, keep pace with Shiozaki and Bondo in the middle. Let’s move.” Midoriya grimaced as he loaded live ammunition into his rifle.

Midoriya, that’s live ammunition, Shimura muttered under her breath.

No sh*t, Midoriya muttered back.

“Shouldn’t we do something for these…,” Shiozaki paused, “villains?” Some were unconscious, and others were crying in agony from the synthetic neurotoxin. Others still were encased in glue, some bleeding out. Midoriya shook his head.

“They made their choice. Now let's move.”

…

Screams echoed across the downpour zone as others gasped for any air they could get into their lungs. Everything had been going great for Shoji. Midoriya had been right. It was an upsetting, horror-inducing way to fight. But against villains with no one around to witness it? It was incredibly effective. Incredibly disturbing, but effective.

That was until Tokoyami had found him. The young man had been struggling to control Dark Shadow as it was. Dark lighting and the thunderous rain made for a volatile situation. Then they'd met Shoji and saw the scene. Blood and bits of his body was scattered across the soaked ground, staining it pink and red. Dark Shadow took over, and the first villain he grabbed turned to paste when he slammed into the ground.

…

Kuroiro found himself sitting in the corner of a rundown building with the weather outside absolutely dominated by heavy sheets of rain. In his lap, he quietly rocked Komori, their resident mushroom girl. When they had first landed from the portal, they had been surrounded by villains. Despite this, they didn’t feel despair. They almost felt lucky. So many areas of darkness were great for him, and the damp weather made for perfect conditions for Komori’s mushrooms.

They had thought it would be fine. Komori had immediately started growing mushrooms on the villains before running inside the nearest building. They followed, and Komori pushed her quirk, trying to give them the space and time to get away, to grow so many mushrooms on the villains that they wouldn’t be able to move.

Komori underestimated her quirk, or the weather. Perhaps it was both. The end result was dozens of mushrooms sprouting and spreading and sprouting again in the villains' throats and lungs. The spores they'd inhaled proliferated. They had watched the villains die, clawing at their own throats and chests, ripping their own flesh into bloody strips in a vain attempt to get even a bit of air.

Komori cried into his chest as he rocked her. Kuroiro couldn’t find it in himself to stop staring into the eyes of a nearby corpse.

…

Todoroki let the frost creep up his side, cold mist escaping his mouth. What a joke. “You’re supposed to be villains, right? Pathetic. Forgive me for saying so, but it’s hard to see you guys as anything more than thugs.”

“H-how the f-f-f*ck. Bastard was w-warped here just a second ago.”

“Is he really just a trainee?”

Todoroki crouched down in front of one of the villains, thinking. He figured they would have sent a number of elites to wear All Might down, but they really were just a gang of pathetic goons.

The villain snarled at him as he struggled in his icy prison. “I’m gonna f*cking kill you.”

Todoroki just stared uncaring into the villain's eyes. “At this rate, your skin will rot away from frostbite. So if you wa-”

“LOOK OUT.” Todoroki whipped around to find a large man, perhaps with some kind of walrus quirk, stumbling back, clutching at his neck. Within four steps, he'd twisted, as if to dislodge something, and tripped. His head slammed down onto a large rock before he went still.

“I. I. I. Oh, oh god.” The ground seemingly shifted, and blood started pooling. Todoroki recognized the voice. It was one that he was always hearing around the dorm or the classroom. Hagakure, he thought. “I d-didn’t mean. Oh god.”

Todoroki knelt down beside where he thought the girl was and spoke calmly, even if his sight was set on the glazed-over eyes of the dead man. “It’s fine. You didn’t mean to-” The word unexpectedly caught in Todoroki’s throat, and his eyebrows scrunched together at the feeling. “You didn’t mean to kill him.”

Hagakure wrapped herself around Todoroki’s torso, and he felt himself stiffen. How was he supposed to deal with crying women, again? There was still blood gathering on the ground around them. “Hagakure, are you injured?”

“-s fine.” She choked out. “Had to get out of the ice.”

His fault. The thought struck him suddenly. She had torn the skin off of her feet to save him. Because he had let his guard down, so certain that he had gotten all of the villains. His ice had caused her injuries.

“Ha. Well well, little girly, turns out you’ll neve-” The villain never had the chance to finish his sentence, as Todoroki’s foot twisted and buried him in the ice. There was only silence from the remaining villains.

…

Monoma could feel his heart in his throat as he carried the pink girl from 1-A in his arms. When they had fallen out of the portals, he could have caught her. He'd tried to. He'd failed, watching her as she'd slipped, hitting her head as she crashed through his arms and into the ground.

Monoma had been ducking and crouching into cover where he could, but he was running out of protection, and someone was following him. He could feel the eyes on his back, a feeling he was all too familiar with to be comfortable. Then, he heard the fighting. His heart soared. Fighting at least meant that someone else was there with them.

Monoma had cursed his quirk so much growing up but never more so than he did in this moment. He hadn’t had any copies when he’d fallen through the portal, and the pink girl wasn’t exactly awake and talking. A hand gripped his shoulder like a steel vice, and he felt his heart jump into his throat. He spun and saw the toothy smile of a villain. Monoma did the only thing he could. He grabbed the only quirk available and threw his hand up.

The screams had Monoma’s eyes snapping open mere moments before his own pain would have done so. He dropped the pink girl again as he clutched his hand, welts, and burns appearing along his palm, but that was nothing compared to what he was looking at. The acid was burning holes into the villain's face, their eyes bulging from their sockets as the acid melted into the fleshy exterior. Then the villain stumbled back into the wall and made everything worse. Turns out, the acid was flammable.

The smell of charred skin and cooking sinew had Monoma turning and gagging as his breakfast made a reappearance. He couldn’t look back, even as the screaming doubled before cutting out entirely. Footsteps came running towards them, and he heard the voice of Tetsutetsu swearing before a raspy voice cut through. “Don’t look at it. Monoma’s in shock. You grab him, I’ll grab Ashido.”

Monoma turned in time to see a young, purple-haired man throwing Ashido’s limp form over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. Rough but gentle hands grasped at Monoma before he found himself in the same position.

…

Toga’s blade slashed through the back side of a villain's leg as Jiro backhanded another into the ground. As she did so, the speakers on the back of her hands set off a blast, causing the villain to soar through the air, collapsing further away.

They had landed in the mountains with two 1-B students named Kodai and Awase. They had been useful so far, Awase sealing paths behind them with boulders grown by Kodai’s quirk. But, as it turned out, their hand-to-hand skills were next to abysmal. They could hold their own, barely, against a single villain, but their limited abilities had not reached very far once they had begun surrounding them. It was at this point that Jiro had started using her quirk in direct contact with the villains to keep them down. Toga had brought out her knives.

The area was covered in blood and littered with bodies in varying stages of consciousness. Toga licked the blood off the edge of her blade and scrunched her face in disgust. She hadn’t found anyone that tasted any good yet, and she was fairly certain that she had torn the muscles in her shoulder.

Jiro sat down on a rock and surveyed the scene as she tried to get her heart rate down. If it kept beating like this any longer, she felt that she’d be in danger of a heart attack. She sure hoped it was going better for the others.

…

Midoriya’s group made their way through the rest of the zone fairly quickly. As it turned out, he was right. Shoot one and the rest are adequately horrified. Yaoyorozu had put a tourniquet on the man and, while smiling, told him that if he moved, it would come undone and leave him to bleed to death. Midoriya didn’t think so. He hadn’t shot him near an artery, but he wasn’t going to argue with the effectiveness of the scare tactic. Yaoyorozu had claimed that it was only logical so that he wouldn’t have to shoot anyone else, but he had caught a small amount of her satisfaction at the wounded villain after their earlier assault. She’ll regret that later. Shiozaki had been watching them in horror, but he could live with that.

Midoriya watched as Aizawa and Sekijiro cleaned house, despite the easy hundred, hundred and twenty villains in the courtyard. Their fighting style after years of working together flowed into one another. Seamlessly, one would guard the other as villains were struck down one after another. But Midoriya could see it, and if he could, then the three standing back certainly could, especially Kurogiri.

“Momo, take the rest of them and get back to the entrance. Kirishima,” Midoriya clapped the man on the shoulder, “get them there safely.”

“You aren’t coming with us?” Shiozaki asked, despite her concerns.

“No, the professors have whittled down their numbers, but they’re getting tired. The main fight is yet to begin in the plaza.”

“Come on, Midoriya. You’re good, but they ordered us to get out. And they ordered you to get us out.”

Midoriya gave Yaoyorozu a small sad smile. “Go. They need you at the entrance. There may be wounded. Stick to the trees on the edge of the plaza. It isn't far.”

“Midoriya, bro,” Kirishima began hesitantly.

“No, I’m special forces. Pulling people's asses out of the fire is my job. Now go.” It took some prodding, but they finally gave in and started moving.

As they left Midoriya’s earshot, Bondo turned hesitantly to the others. A glance back had him taking careful stock of the situation, even with Midoriya’s rifle leveled on the villains. “Did you guys know he was special forces?”

Yaoyorozu ground her teeth together, contemplating, but it was Kirishima who answered. “We knew he was military but not special forces, no.”

…

What are you going to do here, Midoriya? You need to get to the exit. Shimura asked falteringly.

I’m going to do what I have to do.

Midoriya didn’t have to wait long before things all went to sh*t. Aizawa was blinking more often, and Sekijiro was running out of blood. Aizawa had been engaged with Shigaraki for barely a minute before he had to blink. That split second found his scarf decaying, falling away into ash and dust. Shigaraki seized his first opportunity and yelled for the nomu. His senses dulled, his reaction times slowed, the beast slipped away from Sekijiro in an instant, dragging the professor's body across the concrete before slamming him into it.

Midoriya flicked his rifle to full auto and clamped his hand over the top of the barrel before depressing the trigger. The first round found home in the side of Shigaraki’s knee, and the second found home in his thigh. The third would have bored through his lumbar, if it weren’t for the warp gate that had the round deflecting off of the metal plate of Midoriya’s armor and plunging harmlessly, instead, into the concrete. The fourth and fifth impacted the chests of two bold villains and took them off their feet. The rest of the magazine took up residence in an increasingly pissed-off nomu.

Midoriya clicked his tongue. He knew that carrying subsonic .300 blackout rounds would bite him in the ass when it came to penetration, but there was something wrong with the nomu, stopping them with its skin.

Midoriya flicked the magazine away, even as he rammed another home, unloading that one and dumping the next into the nomu. Steadily, as he fired, he advanced up next to Sekijiro and Aizawa’s limp form. “Is he alive?”

Shimura floated down, hovering partially in the ground, and looked over the man. She didn’t say anything but looked from Aizawa to Shigaraki and back. The rattle of the gun went silent after a moment as Sekijiro relayed Aizawa’s status. It wasn’t good. Unconscious and bleeding from most of the body in contact with the ground. The facial trauma was ugly, and Midoriya could see bits of the shattered goggles sticking out of Aizawa’s skin, out of the corner of his eye. Again, Midoriya clicked his tongue as his adrenaline surged.

“I’m going to cause a distraction. Get him to the entrance. Yaoyorozu is there, and she can make the medical supplies we’ll need.”

“I’m not leaving a student down here with three dangerous villains.”

“You have no choice if you want Aizawa to remain alive.” Midoriya stepped forward, yelling across the plaza.

“Kurogiri! Shigaraki! Get your asses out here, you cowards. You started this, now come and face its end.”

“NOMU.”

Midoriya cringed as he just barely managed to get to the side with the help of his armor's jets and deflect the right hook from the monstrous creature. His rifle had not been so lucky, being what he used to deflect the aforementioned right hook. The rifle had practically folded in two, and Midoriya could see Shigaraki’s furious glare from behind the nomu.

Midoriya snarled at the man on the ground, gripping the wounds on his leg. “You dare come here and attack us? Dare violate the accords your master agreed upon?” Kurogiri stiffened at the mention of the accords. Shigaraki didn’t even seem phased. If anything, he looked confused. No… there was no way.

Midoriya ducked under the nomu’s extended arm, barely evading the left fist crushing into the ground where he had been standing. Midoriya had to twist, as some remaining villain took a swing at him. Oh, f*ck this. Midoriya growled, yanking his hatchet from his belt before burying it between the ribs of the villain. Midoriya contorted again, yanking the hatchet out and slamming it back down into the villain's throat before abandoning the weapon, throwing it into the chest of the next villain coming his way and rolling back just in time to see the nomu obliterate the remains of the first villain.

Viscera dangled from the beast's fist as he turned to face Midoriya once again. Static once again crackled in his ears as communications came back online, and immediately he had Phoenix’s concerned voice filling his head, followed by the voices of every single member of 1-A, checking in. Alarm claxons began ringing all over the USJ. Midoriya snarled inaudibly. Phoenix, communications clamp down. SOS. Relay Nedzu of the situation as you piece it together.

Done and done. Mei has already informed them, and the heroes are five minutes out. All Might ran ahead; he should be getting there soon.

Midoriya’s muscles screamed at him as he threw himself to the side to dodge the nomu’s fist. f*cking motherf*cker.

Muscle integrity degrading. You’ll only be able to do that one or two more times before your legs give out on you.

sh*t. Could he distract it long enough? Whatever the hell it was, Midoriya needed the rest of the faculty if he was going to take it down without injuring himself.

“Hahaha! Suck it, you sh*tty NPC. My bioengineered marvel was designed to fight against All Might. You’ll neve-” Midoriya didn’t hear the rest. As his mind processed the word bioengineered, he saw red. The nomu backhanded him and sent him skidding back.

Structural integrity of forearm bracer compromised. Bone integrity of right arm compromised.

Bioengineered. Bioengineered? All Might? Midoriya felt a hateful smile come to his lips as images of white-skinned beasts flashed across his eyes. Of sagging skin and ripping teeth. Of human faces stitched into the flesh of medical horrors released into the forest to hunt the surviving members of battles routed.

“Bioengineered?” Midoriya sneered. “You would dare violate the sanctity of the dead to create this THING. All to kill one man?” Midoriya growled as his eyes lit viridian and his lips peeled back in disgust and hatred. Athena. Full integration authorized, stim deployment grades one through five authorized.

Midoriya could practically hear the shock and anger in Phoenix’s voice. Could hear the hesitancy in Athena’s question. Do it, or this may kill me.

This could kill you regardless of what you do. This is an untested technology, father.

Shigaraki froze as Midoriya crouched down in a practical sprinter's position. Pure malice radiated from him as he let sharp teeth show. “Let me show you ‘bioengineering.’” The ground cracked as he pressed off, blitzing towards the nomu, a trail of blue afterburners just visible. The nomu swung at him again, but Midoriya blurred underneath its arm, drawing out one of his knives and ramming it between the joints in the creature's knee, cleanly severing the tendon before leaving the blade there.

The nomu shrieked, even as it twisted to throw another punch. Midoriya just stepped back a pace before stepping up the arm embedded in the ground, twisting, and embedding a second blade into the shoulder joint of the creature. Midoriya dropped to the concrete just in time to sidestep and grab the forearm that wasn’t impeded by metal and give it a twist, ripping the limb from its socket and shredding muscle fiber.

The creature screamed, and Midoriya loved it. How much pain and suffering had they been given by creatures just like these. How he would have loved to rip one of those white horrors to pieces bit by bit for what they did. Midoriya kicked the creature in the jaw, even as it struggled to move one arm past the metal bar hindering it while the other hung limply with its ruined muscles. It seemed to be healing but not fast enough. Not nearly fast enough. “Hard to move your joints when they’re pinned, isn’t it?”

A woman seemed to be floating in the air, trying to get his attention, trying to tell him something, but Midoriya couldn’t find it in him to care what it was. Couldn’t focus on it, anyway.

Midoriya smiled a vicious smile as he gripped the nomu by the jaw and sunk his fingers into its squishy, exposed brain matter. The creature shrieked and writhed underneath Midoriya’s fingers, struggling for anything it could do with its flailing limbs, its eyes panicked and wide-locked with Midoriya’s gleeful viridian fires. Slowly and deliberately, Midoriya twisted the nomu’s head. Ligaments and muscles strained and snapped, and the sickening crunch of bone was met by the wet sound of the body giving way, and through it all, Midoriya laughed. Fire in his eyes, he laughed and laughed until the last bit of sinew gave way, and Midoriya tore the nomu’s head clean off before pointing its dead eyes towards Shigaraki, Midoriya's body coated in the blood of his creature.

Shigaraki shook in rage, in horror, in disgust. This was supposed to be a hero student? Just what kind of- “Cheated. You CHEATED. A god damn hacker got into my ga-”

Midoriya blurred again, the ground cracking and the head bouncing. Kurogiri tried to throw up a warp gate, but he was too slow on the uptake. By the time the gate was open, Midoriya was past it with bloody claws holding Shigaraki by the throat.

“THIS IS NOT A GAME.” Both men froze as Midoriya roared into Shigaraki’s face. “There are no health bars and side quests, no distinction between player and NPC. There is no log or tutorial on how to live life.” Shigaraki’s hands started to twitch and move. “Oh, try it. I’ll snap your neck like a twig. I know I can kill you before you decay through my gear.”

Shigaraki froze, hands halfway up with fury etched into his features. “You have to choose. I choose every single f*cking day to get up and face the horrors this world has to offer, Shigaraki, because it is my honor and duty to protect those that can not protect themselves. I chose to give up my humanity for the sake of the rest. What have you ever chosen, Tomura? To destroy? To kill? To blindly follow without an ounce of knowledge or respect? That’s not a choice, you gods damned spoiled brat. That’s a tantrum.”

PLEASE, please stop. Shimura was practically sobbing. You can’t kill him, please.

“Mr. Midoriya.”

“Shut up, Kurogiri. The only reason I don’t kill him now and save all of us trouble down the line is that I can’t bring myself to believe All for One would be this stupid. So open your portal, take your charge, and get the f*ck out of my sight.”

Shimura reached out in panic, trying to grab onto Midoriya’s arm, babbling something about keeping him, about not sending him back. Once again, Midoriya ignored the ghost.

Kurogiri inclined his head ever so slightly before opening the portal. Midoriya tossed Shigaraki through like a bag of trash. The mist man vanished, leaving Midoriya alone in a courtyard full of corpses and the unconscious. A boom resounded through the USJ as the front doors flew off of their hinges, and in a moment, a giant blond dumbass was standing next to Midoriya, taking in his condition.

All Might considered for a moment how the boy could look much worse. His skin was almost gray, which only made the red of his blood stand out even more. It leaked from his eyes, his nose, his ears, and his mouth. And with that mouth, he sneered at the Symbol of Peace. “Well, look here. f*cking late again.” Midoriya's eyes rolled back as he crashed to his knees, vomiting blood before passing out in the puddle. Shimura’s eyes widened, and she vanished.

Chapter 49: Chapter #48 | That Good Night

Chapter Text

Hatsume hit the surgical suite of the school’s nurse's office as Maijima was raising the metal saw to begin cutting through Midoriya's armor. Maijima, nervous, jerked upwards, pulling the blade away from the armor.

“Step away.” The short, curt command from the student had Shuzenji’s back stiffening and a snarl beginning in her throat.

“What the hell are you doing in my operating room? Get out!” The nurses shuffled uneasily as they glanced between their patient and Hatsume.

“Oh yes, please allow me to have Powerloader electrocute himself and for you to make the damage worse.” The snark in Hatsume’s tone, thick with derision, nearly had Shuzenji calling for security, or rather, physically removing Hatsume from the room, herself.

“Let her be, Shuzenji. Hatsume, get to your point.” Nedzu’s voice came over the intercom from the observation room.

Tch, Hatsume clicked her tongue before pushing Maijima aside and glaring at him. Grabbing Midoriya’s shoulder, she turned the man slightly before pulling two thin chips from her pocket. The chips slotted into a narrow port just below Midoriya's neckline. While she moved, Hatsume began to explain.

“Had you tried to cut into his armor with that saw, the only result would have been activating the automated defenses specifically implemented to prevent such a thing.”

Maijima’s eyes widened, his mouth forming a grimace. “That wasn’t in the design specs, Hatsume.”

Hatsume rolled her eyes, the pitch of her voice high and precise.“Of course it wasn’t. Why would I actually give you the full design specs on proprietary technology?” Turning back to Midoriya, Hatsume pulled an electronic bar from another of her multitude of pockets. “Armor connection established?”

A flash of lights crossed the bar before two small figures appeared, one green and the other red, projected onto the area directly before Hatsume. The green proceeded to sit down and begin thumbing through tiny information screens while the red peered up at Hatsume, nodding. “Armor connection is established.”

“Purge the armor, Athena. Sprite, work with Recovery Girl and her team to piece Izuku back together.” The red figure nodded before turning and stepping towards the armor and raising her hand. A hissing emanated from the suit as a series of pops dislodged the plates. Hatsume reached forward to begin pulling them off, only to have her hands smacked away by Shuzenji.

“That is quite enough, Hatsume. We’ll take it from here.” Again, Hatsume rolled her eyes.

“I’m sure that will go over great, since you don’t even know half of what he’s done to himself.” Shuzenji felt her eye twitch.

“And what precisely has he done to himself that isn’t in his files?” Hatsume glared at Shuzenji for a long moment before taking a deep breath.

“I’m taking my anger out on you. Izuku told me not to do that to other people. It hurts my chances with the clients.” The last part was muttered. “It depends on who you ask. You ask me, he’s done too much. You ask him, and he’s not done enough. It’s never enough for him.” Again the muttered sigh of words. “Sprite, I authorize you and Phoenix to fill Recovery Girl and her nursing staff in on Midoriya Izuku’s current medical status and needs.”

A new figure, orange, appeared alongside the green and red. Her arms folded neatly into parade rest behind her back, and her features, despite the youth evident in them, seemed older than the other two. “I am afraid, Mother, that there are currently others here who are not members of medical staff.”

Hatsume sighed. “Inform Maijima, as well. This is partially his technological territory. As for the rat in the observation room, he was going to hear this eventually, anyway.” Hatsume took a step back to lean against the wall while Pheonix gave a nod to Sprite. Sprite appeared hesitant, faltering, before nodding herself.

“We don’t have time for this. In case you have all forgotten, Midoriya is bleeding internally, and I need to get to work.” Sprite tilted her head from where she sat before shaking it.

A young voice, almost childish, came from the bar, sounding far calmer in the situation than was natural or, several thought, human. The girl’s eyes, nearly vacant, flicked from side to side, seeming to stare at nothing at all. “No, we have the time. Father is far sturdier than any of you believe.” Her gaze continued its movement over the room.

“I am tracking his injuries, and while they are terrible, he isn’t in any danger yet. His natural systems are slowly repairing themselves as we speak. Although,if left alone, things will…,” Sprite trailed off again, searching for the right words, “ either catastrophically deteriorate or heal, but, incorrectly. I give it a sixty-four and thirty-six percent chance, respectively.”

Most of the nursing staff had taken a step back from Midoriya, but Shuzenji had simply sighed at this new information. “Okay then. Sprite, I take it, what do we need to know?”

A ripple, a blink in her appearance, and she was standing alongside the orange figure now. Both waited at attention, prepared to relay relevant information. “Father already had numerous genetic alterations before he created us.”

True artificial intelligence, both Shuzenji and Maijima mused. Both slotted the information away for a later discussion.

“Much of his genome has been very carefully built up to support the rest of it. Alterations and tweaks were made using his humanity as a base, so as to mostly maintain it while still conferring boosts to the functionality of his system. Alongside this, after our creation, Father and his employees in the biological suite of Moonlit Industries have performed numerous mechanical and genetic experiments on his own person.”

Maijima visibly paled and twitched. “What? Why would he have them do that?”

Shuzenji’s grimace told him that she knew the answer to that question already. “He was circumventing the old genetic experimentation laws. Untested treatments cannot be performed on anyone who is not a volunteer. That goes doubly so for genetics treatments. You cannot even begin volunteer testing until extensive red tape from the board globally governing genetics agrees.”

Maijima’s eyebrows pushed together. “Then how-”

Shuzenji grimaced further. “There are no restrictions on the scientist using the treatments on their own person. In fact, if successful, it would speed along the approval process, as it would have already been proven. The reason no one makes use of this loophole, however, is because there shouldn’t be anyone crazy enough to do such a thing as perform untested medical procedures on themself.”

Sprite nodded. “You are correct. In fact, much of the staff alongside us were adamant that Father should not go through with these tests. He did, however, disregard our objections and perform them, anyway, much to the horror of everyone when things went wrong. Father would simply have the offending organ removed and regrown before trying again.”

Nedzu sat down hard on the ground, his paws coming up to rub almost compulsively across his muzzle. Too much, far, far too much of Midoryia reminded him of his own experiences. The one point that set them apart, it seemed to Nedzu, was that his own procedures had been unwilling. That Midoriya was instigating his own experimentation had a knot forming low in his throat, expanding into his chest.

“How much of his genetic structure is still human? What experiments are currently ongoing?” Shuzenji’s cold tone had both Maijima and Nedzu’s heads snapping up. Why exactly was she taking this so well?

Sprite tilted her head and her eyes, once focused, reclaimed that idle, far-away look. “After the recent incident involving All Might, repair work performed to restore Father’s genome from backup showed a completion number higher than it was prior.”

“What incident with All Might required genome repair?” Maijima’s confused question was quickly cut off by Nedzu’s voice over the intercom.

“Not important. What percentage did the mapping show, Sprite?”

“The new percentage places Father’s genome at twenty-seven percent human with the seventy-three percent alteration containing the genome of both identifiable and unidentifiable origins.”

Silence permeated, cold and heavy, as if a weight had settled over the room. Hatsume spoke after a moment, her voice low and carefully controlled

“This isn’t a secret. He insists it isn’t. According to Izuku, simply no one ever asks the right questions to get the right answers. But we don’t go around advertising it. I’m sure you can see why.”

“And what about my other question, Sprite? What of ongoing experiments?” A bark came across the intercom system, even as the medical staff grumbled.

“You want us to work on a monster?”

Very coolly, Shuzenji turned to the nurse who was openly, unabashedly, staring at the unconscious man in revulsion. “I expect you to work the patient, a student, but as you’ve clearly shown that you cannot do that, you can get out. We will discuss this later, along with a review of your performance.”

Shuzenji turned back in time to see Phoenix rubbing the space between her eyes and realized that she had missed something said between Hatsume and the A.I.

“I will be the one to explain this, as it required the precise assistance of Hatsume’s mechanical suite in order to perform. Currently, there are six active augmentation procedures with another four planned once their developments reach acceptable failure rates.”

Maijima felt sick, understanding perfectly well that they were now talking about mechanical augmentations on top of the genetic alterations. “Are you telling me that Midoriya didn’t feel like his genetic work was enough?”

“What are they?” Shuzenji reached over and began removing armor pieces. Calm and collected, without a hint of emotion, she ordered a nurse to begin reordering their equipment.

“We began with catalytic thyroid implants, a platinum pellet in his left thyroid gland containing HGH.”

“To boost his skeletal and muscle tissues?”

“Correct. There was a minor chance, two percent, of elephantiasis in the subjects. Father did not present, and so we continued on to overwrite the GDF-8 protein via muscular injections.”

“Wait.” Both women turned to look at Maijima’s pale face. “I thought you said there weren’t any other subjects. That Midoriya was experimenting on himself.”

Phoenix gave him a long look before nodding. “That is correct. Father was performing these experiments on himself and not a single other sentient being.”

The smile and tone made Maijima want to hyperventilate, something not at all aided by the dawning look of realization on Shuzenji’s face or the gagging choke over the intercom.

“So the Myostatin was overwritten using Follistatin. But that combined with the HGH…”

“Yes.” Phoenix affected a somber, almost mournful, quality as she continued.. “An extremely painful process. Approximately five percent of subjects couldn’t handle the combination and experienced a fatal cardiac volume increase.”

Phoenix stepped up, hovering above Midoriya’s chest. “To support these two augmentations and the sudden increase in the blood needed to support the muscles, an upgrade to the cardiovascular system was necessary. This was accomplished in part via his genetic alterations, as well as mechanically. An electroactive polymer weave was implanted into the muscles of his heart. EAPs deform when an electrical field is applied to them, and they are fully biocompatible, as well as extremely sensitive to the electrochemical potential created by the sinoatrial node to regulate the heartbeat.”

“And with the increased oxygenated blood flow, the body adapts to higher physical stresses. The arteries to and from the heart?”

“Reinforced using a high tensile synthetic collagen weave.”

“Fascinating.” The tone was still cold but as intrigued as a scientist might be. Shuzenji shook her head. Not the time for professional curiosity.

Finally, moving to hover above Midoriya’s face, Phoenix pointed down. “Stay below the neck, and you will not encounter the remaining augmentations.”

“What are they?”

“Occipital capillary reversal with bionic lens upgrades and extensive alterations to his entire nervous system. Nerves, while extremely good at transmitting messages, still have limitations due to the resistance present in all materials. The signals have a limit on how fast they can travel between the brain and muscles. Reaction in as little as a quarter of a second. We’ve infused his dendrites with superconducting nano-materials and aligned them with resonant electromagnetic fields before sculpting back dendrite protoplasmic materials. We’ve effectively rewired his entire nervous system while promoting the growth of myelin sheaths via the oligodendrocytes and schwann cells, further accelerating the conduction rate. There was, unfortunately, a twelve percent risk of Parkinson's disease or Fletcher's syndrome. The three hundred percent increase to reaction time was worth the risk, however.”

Phoenix shifted above Midoriya’s forehead, looking down. “Finally, a neural interface has been implanted within his brain tissue in order to passively monitor him, as well as directly interface with the cerebral core.”

Maijima jerked, full body, away from the wall he had been leaning against. “You didn’t,” he said hoarsely. “No, tell me you didn’t. The chips in the back of the armor. The upgrade to his nervous system?”

It wasn’t truly a question but a statement, and Nedzu, queasy, echoed the query.

In one part reverence, two parts horror, Maijima responded. “Artificial intelligence directly interfacing in a biological amalgam. What the hell-”

“Both experimental and confidential.” Phoenix cut him off, her projected form tense and glowering. “And maybe if Athena or I had been with him today, this would not have happened. I suggest you drop the issue.”

Shuzenji glanced between the synthetic being and her very real, living and breathing patient. Deliberately ignoring the implications of the conversation, she returned her attention fully to the student who lay stretched out on her operating table. “You’re able to tell me exactly what is going on inside of his body right now?”

Sprite spoke up for the first time in a while, the distant look leaving her face as she focused on the older doctor. “Yes, and you’ll need me to deal with the remaining Siva nanites from the drug co*cktail he took.”

“Fine then. Let’s get started.”

…

Shimura hit the ground with a loud, wet smack. A noise she was almost too disoriented to hear. She had kept tabs on her son while she was alive. She had given him up, and that had been a hard enough decision. But still, she had kept tabs on her boy. She shouldn’t have, she didn’t have that right. She still did it.

Shigaraki had looked just like him. Just like her Kotaro when he was a kid. Same eyes, same mouth. That same anger. Mind, the anger hadn’t been directed at her, but he had looked so familiar. If it hadn’t been for Midoriya’s files, she wouldn’t have even thought about it. All for One had found a young boy in an unidentifiable family home. All information about them, the family, the child, was missing. All that was left of them was dust and decomposed meat. All for One had taken in a child, had named that child after him.

It had suddenly clicked for her. What had she had that none of the other users had? A family. What would All for One have done if he had found her son? She couldn’t let Midoriya kill Tomura. Not when it was possible, not when-

The rat running across Shimura’s hand had her screeching and reeling back with her rear landing solidly in a puddle of mud thick with grime and blood. The sound of gunfire came to her next, the explosion of rounds far too large to be firearms. Her lungs burned as she searched through the fog for where she was. Some kind of trench, she realized. Half rotten wooden boards stretched futilely across gulfs of water and mud, while sodden timbers barely held back the torrent of soaked earth pressing on them as the sky poured down rain.

Bodies of men ranging from as young as Midoriya to as old as the professor pressed against the wall, as if hiding from the sight of what was on the other side. Someone had filled bags with the cursed material from beneath their feet, packing the bags on top of the wall or into it. Others still reinforced it with sticks and barbed wire in places.

Their faces were covered, she realized. Gas masks, old, old design, but gas masks still. Stumbling to her feet, she approached one of the men, tried to grab on instinctively before her hand simply passed through him and his rifle.

A rifle. Shimura jerked back, whipping her head around. They all had rifles. And they were… firing over the trench? Standing up fully, Shimura poked her head over the lip of the trench before ducking back down and sucking in air. What she had seen even through the fog. Her ears popped, and she could hear it then. The cacophonous screams underpinning the sounds of war. The braying of dying horses and the screaming of injured men. The desperate cries for help and the gurgling last moments as dying men drew their last breaths.

Where… where was she?! What kind of… An explosion went off in the trench beside her. She felt the debris pass through her, and the screams began again, closer. Warm blood and viscera thrown against the wall through her left her with almost a sticky feeling, and the yelling in… what language is that?

Shimura stumbled to her feet and down the divet in the ground, searching for something recognizable. Men going over the lip, following the whistle. More screams. Men warming liquid of some kind over a small makeshift fireplace. A filthy underground hole where the cries of the injured echoed from within. The fog was gone, and still, she recognized nothing. The cratered landscape of gray skies. Mud thick with the insides of the dead. The booming sound of weaponry and the cacophony of gunfire.

The men weren’t wearing their masks now. The threat had passed, and she could feel the searing in her lungs abating, though her breath wouldn’t come back to her. The men weren’t Asian, maybe European of some kind? She couldn’t tell. She would think of one ethnicity, and then it would be another. It struck Shimura as she passed a dugout of men with pointed ears. Where were the mutant quirks? All of these people and she hadn’t seen a single one yet. A statistical anomaly. No, a statistical improbability. Shimura stumbled out into a larger area, with tents and artillery. Trucks pulling into depots to unload boxes and there, carrying a box deeper into the maze, was Midoriya.

Chapter 50: Chapter #49 | Lessons in Humility

Chapter Text

When originally following Midoriya back through the trenches, Shimura had called out to him. She’d yelled at him, soon screaming, even throwing her hands out, watching as they passed directly through him without notice. She stood to block Midoriya’s path, only to have him, as well as a trail of strangers, walk through her, as if she didn’t exist. Which, she supposed, to most of them, she didn’t.

It had been about that time that she’d gotten a good look at the man, or, should she say, boy. Sucking in a breath, she studied the face, youthful, familiar and wrong. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen, and his eyes. His eyes were nothing like what she was used to. Still tired, still calculating, but there was warmth. A spark. They weren’t the eyes of her Midoriya.

Shimura’s eyes followed him as he continued on, leaving her behind without so much as a glance, and with few other choices, she turned and trailed behind him, deeper into the trenches.
…

The meeting room was tense and quiet, the silence a razor’s edge from breaking. The gentle padding footsteps of the diminutive president distinguished themselves in the silence as he stepped up to the table. Much of the hero faculty that had responded to the incident was in attendance, alongside both Kurose and Sekijiro.

“Ahem. As I am certain many of you witnessed at the USJ, we have had a breach of security.”

“A breach of security? Bullsh*t. This is a clusterf*ck.” Nedzu sighed before glancing over at Hizashi.

“Yes, it is a breach of security. However, you are also right. Clusterf*ck is a good word for it. Let’s start with Shuzenji, shall we? Could you give us the status of the students?” The silent question of whether they had lost any of them hung heavy in the already tense air.

“Well, let’s start with the fact that I don’t have Honenuki or Shishida’s statuses. Both were life-flighted to Musutafu General after they were pulled from the flood and conflagration zones, respectively. I can request that information after this meeting.” The venerable nurse looked as if she hadn’t slept that night. It was quite possible that she hadn’t. “The rest of the students that required medical attention were able to be treated at the student hospital here on campus. A good opportunity for them, if under awful circ*mstances.”

“That is good.”

“With all due respect, sir, we ‘ave two students in critical care, and that’s good?” Sekijiro shook his head slowly. The blood loss had made him lethargic now that the adrenaline was out of his system, his skin pallor sickly from anemia.

“You weren’t there, Snipe. Only two kids in critical is good news.” Silence followed, broken abruptly by the president.

“Yes, well, the media won’t see it that way. But that is a conversation for later. Shuzenji?” Again, the nurse sighed.

“Let’s start with Kaminari.”

…

The medical technicians had released him to go back to the dorms fairly quickly. It was just a bad case of quirk overuse. Rest and recuperate. Quirk overuse. He had gotten away with quirk use while Honenuki…

A fist cracked into the wall, dust pluming and just as quickly fleeing down the drain. Lightning crackled across his body, even as he dully registered that it was his own fist that had broken the tile. That it was his own fist now bleeding into the water.

The horror on Asui’s face as his consciousness trickled back to him, the raw desperation on Itsuka’s as she straddled Honenuki, the dull resignation in Nirengeki’s eyes as he leaned against the wall.

Another tile broke as he slid down and curled into the bottom of the shower stall atop the jagged shards. He cried and would remain there even after the water trickled into cold.

…

“Itsuka, Asui, and Nirengeki were with him, as well. They did well and applied our rescue lessons proficiently. Exhaustion at worst for them. They’ll be fine.”

…

Asui sat in the corner of her room feeling like her throat was clogged with spit. She stared at her hands. She was never good with emotions. They had been muted for so long that when they hit her like this, she didn’t know what to do with herself. She couldn’t stay still, couldn’t seem to keep her mind off…

The image of Honenuki’s still body, the feeling of his ribs breaking under her hands. The lightning coursing across the water. What would have happened if I were... Asui felt her throat tighten and tasted the bile before her head was in the trash can.

Her skin buzzed and her head swam. She couldn’t seem to breathe, she couldn’t. She just couldn’t seem to breathe.

…

Itsuka knocked on Nirengeki’s door. He hadn’t come out since they had been dismissed by the medical tech. She needed something to do, anything right now.

There wasn’t any response from Nirengeki’s room.

She felt her hands twitch before she tightened them into fists and took a deep breath. Rikido was stress-baking downstairs, she thought. She’d go do that. Yeah, she’d go help Rikido.

…

“We got lucky with a few of the students. Those at the entrance alongside Kurose were able to not only hold their own but get away relatively unscathed.” Kurose grimaced.

“Only because Midoriya stopped me from using my quirk. I have multiple questions.” Kurose was first and foremost a pacifist. She didn't like fighting or anything involving it. She was a rescue hero for a reason. The loss of life at the USJ was abominable, but still. But still... If it hadn’t been for him… So many villains are dead, though…

“Are they pertinent at this stage?” Most of the staff raised an eyebrow at the president’s question. He seemed almost… apprehensive to answer. Kurose simply stared at the rat.

“Why did Midoriya know the villains in question, and why are we not discussing that we have students that seem happy to take lives?” Nedzu seemed to relax at the questions. Were they not the ones he was expecting?

“What I am about to say does not leave this room, and you will all be signing NDAs at the conclusion of this meeting. Snipe, you already know this. Go print out the agreements.” The president waited for the cowboy to exit the room before he continued. “Midoriya often works with both police and underground heroes as an information broker. Where he gets his information is unknown, even to those who work with him, but it is generally both complete and accurate.”

That got a reaction out of most of the staff. Varying levels of shock, disdain, or interest showed across the room. A select few heroes had been told before of course in the teachers lounge. Midnight and Kurose, for example, knew that he was an information broker. But the argument needed to be made again. “Excuse me? Why was this not disclosed to the staff when he entered the school?” Midnight appeared livid even if it were for the sake of her fellow staff.

“Because he is my student, not yours.” The cold smile on the president's muzzle had the room freezing, reminded just exactly who they had chosen to work for. “As it stands, there are three members of staff that do know the exact details of this arrangement. Had I decided that more needed to know, you would have been informed.” It was an apathetic response that had Kurose’s fist stiffening on top of the table. Before she could open her mouth to respond, the president continued.

“Before you ask, yes, we will be questioning Midoriya once he awakens from the major invasive surgery he needed to undergo after protecting the students and your fellow faculty. The students who took lives will also be questioned. But for now, that is hardly our priority.” Kurose’s teeth clenched, though she remained silent. The question of where the villains had found a class six warp quirk was left unsaid. A quick nod to Shuzenji.

“Yes, well, Tsunotori was experiencing extreme keratin deficiency when she was brought in. Uraraka and Tokage both are suffering from multiple lacerations and breaks but will recover. Rikido and f*ckidashi are experiencing symptoms from quirk overuse but will recover, as well.”

“Then moving onto the landslide zone…”

“From the landslide zone, we have an issue. Todoroki escaped with a few scrapes, but the same cannot be said for the others.

…

Todoroki remained still in his seat beside Hagakure’s bed. She had finally fallen asleep after the doctors had upped her painkillers and sedated her. Todoroki’s eyes trailed dimly over the bandages on Hagakure’s feet and calves.

When he’d landed on that mountain, he had simply frozen the area. He hadn’t thought about the consequences. He hadn’t thought about his classmates getting caught in the crossfire. He hadn’t even considered the amount of damage he could do.

Hypothermia, a key part of the trauma triad of death. The words echoed in his head on repeat, like a mocking specter. Todoroki could only hang his head. He had frozen Hagakure a quarter of the way up her legs. He had done that, and she had still torn her legs out of the ice to save him. He felt like throwing up when he saw the scans of the damage done to her lower body. Entire regions of skin were torn from her feet and legs to kill to save him. She had been lucky that she hadn’t bled out from her feet with that stunt.

Todoroki felt himself shudder and twitch as the door opened and two of the Class B members were wheeled into the room. More shame for him. Tsuburaba and Kaibara had been trapped in a frozen cave under his ice. Unable to escape through the thick block, the two had simply bunkered down and waited to be rescued. It took two hours in that subzero cave for them to be rescued.

Todoroki couldn’t look them in the eyes, wouldn’t be able to stand what he might find there if they were awake. Shame kept his gaze on his hands. Perhaps, he mused, perhaps it wasn’t his quirk that was cursed. Just him.

…

Kuroiro hadn’t been able to extract Komori from his side since they’d been rescued from the hellish unending rain. That was fine with him. Her presence was as much of a comfort for him as he was for her. He could live with her presence. Had they been rescued? Was it a rescue when every threat was dead? He could still see them even now that they were back in the dorms. The look on their faces, the horror, the pain, the realization that they were going to die.

He could still see their eyes burning into his, burning into the back of Komori’s head. The anger and the accusations. They were supposed to be heroes, and yet here their opponents had died. Komori had finally sobbed herself into a fitful sleep. He was sure that she could still feel their eyes as much as he could see them. The sound of rain rang in his ears, the feeling of concrete hard under him and against his back. They were still there, still in that unending rain. Why hadn’t they been rescued yet?

…

Tokoyami just felt drained and numb. He had killed so many. The feathers that he had finally smoothed down fluffed up again, much to his annoyance. Or, it would have annoyed him if there were anything left in him to be annoyed. Instead, with shaking hands, he once again started poking his feathers back into place. One by one, he preened, and one by one, the feathers went awry.

Dark Shadow usually helped him with his preening, saying that it helped calm them both. He suspected after the fight that they’d had, Dark Shadow wouldn’t be helping him with much of anything for a while. It could also have been the 5000-lumen bulbs that he had turned on throughout the room. Tokoyami couldn’t stand to see their other half right now. Even if Dark Shadow had argued that they never wanted to go into heroics.

Even if Dark Shadow had done what was necessary to keep them alive.

…

Monoma couldn’t bring himself to move from beside Ashido. Ashido Mina. He had found out who she was after they had escaped from the USJ. Quirk: Acid. Too late, he had learned her quirk. A shuddering breath had him pulling a trash can closer to him again.

He hadn’t been able to get that awful smell out of his nose. The smell of liquified and burnt human flesh, of seared hair. Monoma felt himself retching again. They were dead before they had hit the ground, he was certain, but the speed of the act didn’t make him feel any better.

His quirk had always been a curse growing up, the way people had treated the copycat, but this. This. He had never considered his quirk a dangerous one, and look at what he had done with it when he was cornered. He preached how he was better than 1-A, but looking at how the others in that fiery hell had acted, he couldn’t be sure.

Did smoke inhalation stop Shinso? Sero’s tape had caught fire, he recalled, burning his elbows and arms as the intense heat surged up, claiming possession over everything in its path. They had fought like the devil was hunting for them. Without thought, without concise decision, they had continued to fight until the end. And what had he done when he was cornered? What had been the great Monoma’s reaction to being unable to use his quirk? To kill someone with the first ability he could latch onto.

Ashido still hadn’t woken up, but the doctors were feeling positive about her chances. That was great. So why didn’t it feel great? Because it was his failure that had put her here.

…

“We did not see too many issues to speak of from the other two zones. Midoriya was able to pull the group from the ruins zone without too much fuss, and Yaoyorozu treated their injuries well. They’re exhausted with a few cuts and scrapes, aside from Yanagi, who has a rather severe concussion. The mountain zone group suffered a few broken bones but ultimately made it out unscathed.” The faculty let out a sigh at the extensive list of injuries. The president hummed, folding his paws together in front of himself.

“Hound Dog, I am afraid you are going to be busy with this year's hero course. Make sure that you push for multiple sessions with the students that terminated someone during this incident. You humans are far more squeamish about these kinds of things.” The faculty tensed at the casual comment. “Oh, and make doubly sure that you corner Midoriya into a session. Understood?”

“I’ll do what I can, sir, but I have no interest in forcing students into coming and seeing me.”

“Do as you will. Now, onto the next topic, the dead.”

…

Shimura had long since followed Midoriya back into the bunker that he seemed to call home. Calling it home was generous, of course, even by her own standards. When she had been fighting in the Urbans, her unit had building-hopped all the time. Sometimes, it would be rubble one day, the next, they would luck into a climate-controlled office space.

But never, never had she or hers had to live in such squalor. The room was little more than a small hole dug into the side of the already sordid trench outside. Six men were crammed into a space they shared with rats, lice, mosquitos, and some kind of horrid large biting fly.

Still, the men seemed to be in good spirits. After all, it seemed that not all of the men had rooms of their own, even to share. It wasn’t uncommon that Shimura stepped out into the trenches just for a breath or a moment to herself and would find men sleeping against the legs of their fellows, keeping watch over the lip of the pit.

Everyone, Midoriya included, spoke in a language foreign to her, and no matter the amount of effort or focus, she simply couldn’t seem to get a grasp on it. She’d always heard people say that immersion was the best way to learn a new language. That assumed, of course, that you had some kind of starting point in the language, or at least someone there to help you parse through the unfamiliar vocabulary.. What little Shimura did understand came from Midoriya’s obsessive habit of journaling when he came in from watching over the trench. It was a miracle that despite whatever it was he was speaking, he still wrote in Japanese, though her brief stolen glances over the pages told her relatively little about where they were.

The first time that the men living with Midoriya pulled off their masks to eat had been a shock for her. She had wondered, initially, what, or perhaps where, the men’s quirks were. Having only ever lived in a society saturated with the casual use of these extraordinary abilities, she had been quick to notice their absence here. But knowing that she was somewhere far away from her home was different than seeing it undeniably in these strangers, in their otherness. The pointed ears of the man closest to Midoriya, it seemed, had indicated something that even Shimura didn’t want to admit as a possibility.

She had thought that she had seen the worst of what life was like here. She really had thought that after she’d witnessed the rolling white fog bank that burned the skin and lungs of those soldiers that weren’t quick enough on the uptake. That’s what they were, soldiers. She couldn’t mistake that now, not after she’d watched the men come charging out of the cloud, only to be cut down by a ring of gunfire.

She’d thought that she’d seen the worst of life here until the explosion inside the trench had sent her skittering back into a wall. Until she had seen the shell-shocked face of Midoriya, dull and glassy-eyed, trying to stuff the elf's guts back into his nonexistent lower half. A whistle blew, a whistle that Shimura had long taken note of and dismissed. The men went up, over the ladder, after that whistle blew. They went over and very rarely did they come back.

Shimura had disregarded the whistle because Midoriya hadn’t gone over the trench at the sound, though time and time again, his group had tensed up as it was blown As if it were a demented god bestowing death upon its followers.

That’s why when Midoriya picked up his ally's weapon and pulled himself over the lip of the trench, Shimura was sent scrambling after him. It’s why, when she reached him again in the trench across from theirs, she missed the opening salvo wreaking havoc in the enemy's lines. She’d missed Midoriya getting a knife stuck in his shoulder and had missed when he’d dug out the man's eyes before clubbing him with the weapon in his hands.

Shimura felt it unfortunate that she didn’t miss what came next, Midoriya walking through the trench, unloading shells from what she now understood to be a shotgun into men far too close for the weapon.

Shimura was there when he ran out of shells and received two bullets from an officer's pistol in his chest. She was there, sick, as he clubbed the man's head in with the butt of the shotgun before discarding the weapon and taking the man's firearm to continue his way deeper into the trenches.

Four bullets, two knives, and a bayonet were stuck in Midoriya’s frozen form. The man he’d been strangling in the shadow of the imposing artillery piece was stuck in a seemingly unending state of dying. For the first time, Shimura looked at Midoriya’s still face and felt her heart break. Fear, pain, fury. All present, all justifiable. But most prevalent was sorrow, as tears ran down his face.

When Shimura looked up from the frozen figures, she found an older man, also Midoriya, she realized with startling clarity, staring at her from his seat on a discarded ammo crate.

Chapter 51: Chapter #50 | The Owl in the Storm

Chapter Text

The two individuals stared at each other for a long, long moment. Shimura had so many questions, each wanting to come out at once. They all died in her throat when she looked at the man in front of her. Where the Midoriya standing frozen beside her was too young, the one in front of her was too old. Worn combat boots and tactical gear that looked like it had seen too many years of use, scarred hands rested on his knees as he slouched down and watched her. He was maybe in his mid-twenties, and he just looked fatigued beyond what anyone should.

Shimura felt herself swallow as those dull eyes took her in, felt herself nearly suck in a breath when he opened his mouth to speak. “I won a medal for this.”

“W-what?” Midoriya grimaced and sighed before sitting up. He gestured angrily behind her. Shimura turned and again took in the trail of dead and dying.

“A f*cking medal. I had just lost my mind and left my position. I charged across no man's land and butchered my way through to their first line of artillery, a line that wouldn’t have been nearly as close to the front if they’d had an even halfway decent command. And I got a f*cking medal for this. Some of these men weren’t any older than I was.” Midoriya sank back down, putting his head in his hands. “A gods damned f*cking medal for ending other people's lives.”

“You cou-”

“You couldn’t have done anything else? They were trying to kill me?” Midoriya scoffed before his voice dropped low, his words slow and deliberate. “Save it. I’ve already tried to convince myself of every excuse in the book for my actions. It doesn’t stop it from making me sick. The Phurians conscripted their soldiers for this war. They told them to fight and die, simple as that. I enjoyed that medal when I got it. I don’t enjoy the medal now.”

“That’s what war is.” Shimura surprised Midoriya when she sat down gingerly beside him. “Right and wrong seem to go out the window so quickly.” Midoriya couldn’t help but snort derisively.

“You wouldn’t know the start of it.” Shimura shifted herself on the box so she was resting against the large stacked shells behind her.

“Where are we, Midoriya?”

“My personal hell.”

“I’m being serious, Midoriya.”

“So am I. I get to come back here every time I close my eyes. Sometimes it’s here, sometimes it’s another battle. Sometimes it's neither, and it’s the charred remains of my hometown or the emaciated work slaves of the Phurian camps. Why have you been pulled in here with me now instead of when I sleep?” Midoriya gave a low shrug. “Probably has something to do with the hemorrhaging organs I had before going down.”

“Are you saying we’re in your memories?”

“No, we’re at the grocery store down the road from U.A. I figured you could tell from the miles of dead people and mud.”

“No need for the snark, Midoriya.”

“f*ck off.” The aggression went as quickly as it came as Midoriya sagged back down. Shimura just sighed and sagged with him.

“This isn’t the Urbans. Those ended in 2276, four years before I died, and neither of us are old enough to have witnessed the Quirk Wars. They ended in 2094, and they sure as hell didn’t use trenches. So where are we, Midoriya?” Midoriya waved his hand dismissively, glancing up at her through the fringe of his hair.

“I don’t remember exactly. Battle of Brylst? Srytad? I’m not sure anymore. That wasn’t ever the important part.” Shimura shuffled uncomfortably, already suspecting the answer to her next question.

“And where was that, Midoriya? I don’t remember either of those battles or the Phurians in any history book…” Shimura trailed off, even as Midoriya leveled her with his gaze.

“Not on Earth.” Shimura deflated, leaning back.

“Is it my turn to say obviously? How, kid?”

Midoriya just shrugged. “Hell if I know. Bakugo had nearly put me in a coma, and then some villain came along and finished the job before the authorities could get there. Never found the villain, not for lack of trying on my part. f*ck, I'm not even sure if he’s a villain. Could have just been a damn asshole that was having a bad day and decided to take it out on the quirkless kid after his bullies were done with him.”

“The police and heroes didn’t catch him?”

“Never bothered to look. I’m quirkless.” The calm acceptance of that disturbing fact had Shimura frowning at the young man.

“How did you survive?” Midoriya looked up at that, opening his mouth to snark some more before realizing she hadn’t been talking about the coma. Midoriya offered a forlorn stare.

“Turns out quirkless doesn’t mean ‘has nothing special’ about them like everyone thinks. If nothing else, over two hundred years of quirks have seriously messed with human evolution, disregarding my opinions on quirks as an ‘evolution’. We’re apparently hardier than humans were before quirks came in.” Shimura gave Midoriya a small smile.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

With sadness in his eyes, Midoryia shook his head. “Sometimes, I wonder if it is.” He stared down at the ground for a moment. “For honor and bravery unbecoming of someone of my position.”

“Hmm?” Shimura hummed, the sound becoming lost in the void. It was odd, having no real noise aside from the two of them to fill it. A ruffling of fabric here, the creak of the wood there when they shifted their body weight.

“That’s what they said when they stitched me back up and gave me the medal. They hadn’t expected that of me and offered me officer training as a result.” Shimura took a long look at his face.

“And you took it? Got away from this… this?” Shimura couldn’t quite find the words as she gestured to the battlefield in front of them.

“I almost didn’t. I almost asked to be sent back to the front.” The confession caught Shimura off guard. Why would anyone want to stay here?

“Wh-”

“I wasn’t the only one that charged over that line, Shimura. It was a miracle that I made it over here alive. Dozens of others were involved in taking this trench, and dozens more died before they ever got here. Besides, after what they did to my home, I wanted blood, Shimura. And out here? Out here, I was paying it back one at a time.” Shimura felt sick but steeled herself, gritting her teeth silently.

“What changed your mind?” Midoriya gazed off pensively before a small smile crept onto his face.

“I was given an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

…

Uraraka’s fist slammed into the punching bag and she gagged. Objects of varying weights floated around her as she trained in one of the school's many training grounds. Two days since the USJ incident. Two days since she had been too weak to do anything. Her fist made contact with the bag and she gagged again.

Breathing deeply, she stumbled away from her place in front of the bag, focused solely on the air entering then leaving her lungs. If she had been stronger, she could have done something more. If she’d had better control of her quirk, she could have incapacitated the villains and helped somehow, in some way, if she had just been better.

Uraraka stood back up with steel in her eyes. With a slight stumble, she took a deep breath while touching the metal weights once again stationary on the ground. The familiar tug of her quirk pulled on her as the objects began to float, and she thought back to the theories that Midoriya had shared with her regarding her quirk.

Reaching out for the subtle flow of her quirk, she tugged on the energy and tried coaxing it to move, resulting in the objects in the air twitching before slowly beginning to rotate. Uraraka fought down the bile that rose in her throat and pulled the energy into her fist before striking the bag again. The bag rocked back from the strike, and Uraraka stumbled, gasping and closing her eyes.

It felt like she was back to when she’d first started using her quirk. Barely any effort and her muscles tightened, her mouth filled with saliva as her body prepared itself to lose their last meal. Of course, that would require her to have eaten anything of substance. She couldn’t keep it down, even if she tried.

The image of Setsuna jumping on people as a rather large, for its kind, green feathered raptor wouldn’t leave her. Neither would the screams of the villains as they were torn into by tooth and talon, or the sounds they made as they were dropped from a height onto the stairs The terror of the men skewered at the pointed tips of Tsunotori’s horns is something that would likely always stay with her, she thought almost absently.

Extracting herself from the trash can, Uraraka stumbled to her feet, taking a deep breath before she swiped her wrist across her mouth. Silently, she reengaged her quirk and once again began to play with the connections to the weights she set to lifting, and the energy that those connections contained.

…

Setusna spit toothpaste into the sink for the… well, actually, she had lost count of how many times she had scrubbed at her mouth, trying to get rid of the taste. Logically, she knew that whatever had been there was long gone now. She knew that she had removed the bits of flesh and meat that had stuck between her teeth, without question. Except, there was, wasn’t there? Logic didn’t, couldn’t, help her come to terms with what she had done.

She had lost control again. The villains had come up those stairs, despite the bombardment of rubble and horns from her two classmates. They had come up with blades and quirks and had intended to kill them all while that damned smoke cloud just watched impassively from the sideline.

They had managed to best him for the briefest of moments, managing to get Iida through the door to run for the faculty. He had just shrugged and laughed easily, and Oh well, I did as I was ordered and scattered you golden eggs. If Tomura wanted more then he should have given better orders. The words he spoke echoed in her ears.

When the remaining students turned to fend off the villains charging up the stairs towards them, he had simply waved a gloved hand, watching with amusem*nt as they fought for their lives. When Setsuna had transformed, he seemed almost intrigued by the process, of her pouncing on the first villain she came across and shredding ribbons from him with her talons. He followed her eagerly as she’d turned on the next, tearing his throat from his body without remorse.The man had tasted so good at the time.

Setsuna gagged, a wave that nearly had her rushing back to the toilet behind her. The bastard had laughed. Laughed at the sight of a hero student so readily killing, so readily enjoying the thrill of the kill. Setsuna felt the tears rolling down her cheeks, even as she shoved the toothbrush back into her mouth. Setsuna ignored the blood that was mixing with the toothpaste and continued scrubbing.

“Was wondering where you were.” Setsuna jerked but didn’t stop brushing. Tsunotori wrapped a strong hand around Setsuna’s arm. “Enough. That’s enough.” Gently, Tsunotori pulled the brush from Setsuna’s mouth before discarding it. “Rinsh.” The word was as broken as the girl she commanded with it, but Setsuna listened. She rinsed her mouth out and felt the chill of the water against her throbbing gums.

“Good. Now we go.” Tsunotori took Setsuna by her shoulder as well as her arm now and tried to lead her from the bathroom.

“But-” Pony shook her head and cut Setsuna off.

“No. Now we go.” It was a short, curt command, Setsuna thought, but not an unkind one. Not an unkind one at all.

…

Midoriya’s eyes snapped open, and he took a deep breath, one that he instantly regretted as it sent fire burning through his chest. He grunted and closed his eyes again to take stock of his body.

Nothing felt right, really. Everything hurt, from his head all the way down to his damn toenails. A single one of his right knuckles didn’t hurt for some reason, but that oddity was the least of his concerns. Metal and leather bands around his wrists. Needle in his arm. Phoenix?

You’re awake, Father. I’ll contact Mother. Midoriya flinched minutely at the statement and tone. Mei couldn’t possibly be happy with him.

How long have I been out?

This is the second day since the USJ invasion. You have been unconscious since the main villains retreated. Shadow has determined the current location of the ‘League of Villains,’ as Kurogiri called them. Shall I relay the information to our contacts in the police force?

Not yet. I need to have a little chat with them first.

Midoriya opened his eyes and looked down at the cuffs around both of his wrists, leading to the hospital bed's frame. He sighed. Midoriya gave an experimental tug on his wrist and, while it f*cking hurt, he would live.

The door clicked open almost in response to the jingling of metal on metal. When Tsukauchi stepped into the room, he blinked owlishly in surprise.

“I, uh- didn’t expect you to wake up so soon.” Midoriya just raised an eyebrow before jingling the handcuffs again, tilting his head. “We, uh, wanted to make sure you didn’t try to run off as soon as you were awake.”

“Riiight.” Midoriya drawled the word through a scratchy throat. “You wanna get these off me, or?” Tsukauchi blinked again before dipping back out of the room. Midoriya gave a huff and
looked down at the handcuffs. Should I just?

Tsukauchi stepped back into the room, just in time to witness Midoriya getting ready to break his way out of the aforementioned restraints. Midoriya, this time, was the one to blink as he took in the detective standing in the doorway. Blinking again, slowly this time, he realized that his initial thought had been correct. Nedzu was there, as well, and was riding the detective. Shuzenji stepped in behind them, appearing both disturbed and annoyed.

“I swear, Midoriya, if you break my hospital bed, I will beat you back into your coma.” Midoriya snorted.

“Doctors aren’t supposed to speak to their patients that way.” Shuzenji very nearly did beat him upside the head for that comment. Instead, she grumbled as she proceeded to check his vitals.

“You shouldn’t have been awake for at least another day.”

“I heal quickly.” Shuzenji reached over and unlashed one of the bands around Midoriya’s wrist, leaving him to do the other.

“Yes, well, extensive human experimentation will do that for a person.” Midoriya froze before purposely relaxing his muscles and plastering a smile on his face.

“Ah, Hatsume told you.” Shuzenji scowled.

“Good thing, too, your insides are a mess. I might have done more harm than good if it weren’t for your medical AI.” Midoriya felt an eye twitch and flick to the police detective standing in the room. Shuzenji pointed a finger at him. “When precisely were you going to tell me what you’d done?” Midoriya shrugged, both hands now free.

“If you didn’t ask? Probably wasn’t.”

“True.” Shuzenji smacked Tsukauchi in the calf with her cane, while giving him a look that promised more.

“Obviously. You’re free to go after Hatsume comes and collects you. If I see you again before the sports festival, I really will beat you.” Midoriya jerked. His jaw dropped.

“We’re still having the sports festival after we were just attacked?!”

“Take it up with the damn rat.” Shuzenji exited the room while still grumbling about rash, unethical, and amoral doctors. A long silence followed Shuzenji’s exit as Midoriya raised an eyebrow. He stared at the two men while he rubbed his wrists.

“Was there something you needed to speak with me about?” A rhetorical question. He knew both why and what they wanted to talk about, but if they weren’t going to start the conversation, then he certainly wasn’t going to speak first. Tsukauchi sighed before pulling a recorder out of his pocket. He set it aside, pointedly noting that it was off.

“Midoriya, this entire thing has gotten ugly. If it were just a few villains that lost their lives, then it likely wouldn’t have been a big issue. It happens occasionally, especially in a situation like this. Deaths would be expected.” Tsukauchi paused briefly, grimacing. “But this time, the death toll from the villains reached not only double digits, but a vast number of the students were involved in the deaths.”

“Yes, and?” Tsukauchi worked his jaw for a second at the completely blase reaction before continuing.

“And, Midoriya, you were the center of at least twenty-something of those deaths. The media is already placing blame on this year's hero course, and public opinion is split on whether your class is full of hero students or dangerous villains that need to be barred from the course.” The smile dropped from Midoriya’s face. It was one thing for the media to come after him. It was another for them to go after untrained students.

“Actually, the number's more than likely going to be in the thirties.” Midoriya took a look over at the president. “How likely is it that we can blame the deaths all on me?”

“Unless you have a way to explain how you were in almost every zone simultaneously and killed the villains using a dozen different methods while doing so, not at all likely.”

“Well, sh*t.”

“I have questions for you, as well, after Tsukauchi asks you his own.”

“Well, sh*t.” This time Midoriya said it for a very different reason. Nedzu’s questions were far harder to answer without lying.

Chapter 52: Chapter #51 | Question The Maze

Chapter Text

Midoriya stared at the two sitting at the side of his hospital bed with no outward trepidation. Instead, it seemed to the two men as if he had no opinions whatsoever regarding the coming questions. The brief emotion he had shown had withdrawn into a seemingly calm, apathetic facade.

“Before I begin, Midoriya, I’m well aware that events like these can be traumatic affairs, and normally, if for any reason you would need to stop, you would be given time to collect yourself. I can’t offer you that convenience this time around. Technically, I shouldn’t even be having this conversation with you right now.”

“How high up did these orders come from?” One simple question had Naomasa cringing minutely.

“Far above my pay grade, even if I didn’t have to deal with the SIT because of you.” Midoriya clicked his tongue.

“It’s hardly my fault that they dragged you back into their nonsense. You’re too good at your job to be wasting away in the backrooms of a small-time police precinct. ”

“You want to explain why the Superintendent General gave me, a detective from a small precinct, as you put it, direct orders to be the one to question you?” Midoriya stiffened. “You know what, no. We’re not rehashing this argument right now, Midoriya. I left the SIT and SAT because I was done after that incident. I didn’t want to be involved anymore with the upper echelon.”

“Oh, yeah, and you were so happy working cases that should have been given to detectives almost two decades your junior.”

Naomasa twitched, his lips curling back. “Yes, Midoriya, I was. I’m not in my twenties. I have a wife and a daughter that I need to take care of, not drawing targets on my back for supervillains!” Naomasa straightened his back, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. We aren’t doing this. We need to talk about the USJ.”

“Yeah, well, start your recorder, because that incident didn’t kill All for One, and it was his subordinates that attacked us.” Naomasa froze. What else could he do? Midoriya had just spoken the name of a demon from his past that he had pointedly never mentioned, and to make it even worse, he had just claimed that he wasn’t dead.

“Ex-excuse me?” Naomasa couldn’t help as the blood leached from his face. He felt lightheaded, even as the snarling from beside him had Naomasa turning his head almost mechanically towards the president.

“That bastard was involved with the attack?” Nedzu’s lips had pulled back from his muzzle, and the fur of his collar was fluffed up in anger.

“Not directly, I don't think. The main instigator of the attack-” Naomasa threw up his hands, cutting Midoriya off. He felt like throwing up.

“You knew?” Naomasa was staring directly at Nedzu before turning his gaze towards Midoriya. “You knew? That that thing was alive. You two knew?”

A bark of angry laughter had Naomasa turning his head towards Nedzu. “Of course, I knew. U.A. was part of the treaty between All for One and the government.”

The single statement had Naomasa blanking out entirely. Like a computer crashing, it was several seconds before the detective found his senses again. When he did, he reached out slowly, pulling the tape recorder back into his coat pocket. Grasping, he slowly pulled off his hat and set it on one of the many surfaces around the room. For several seconds, he rubbed his hands against his face before speaking.

“Okay. No records, I’ll just write this up later. Does someone want to start from the beginning? I seem to be missing a few pieces of critical information here.” Midoriya looked uneasy, as if he was remembering something. Glancing at the president, the chimera shrugged. Midoriya sighed.

“In the summer of 2297, a major fight between hero, All Might, and the class five quirk threat villain known as All for One leveled an entire city on the western seaboard. The Japanese government covered this fact up as a natural disaster.” Naomasa nodded along with a grim face.

“I’m aware. I was part of the team involved. A lot of us haven’t slept well since that day. The casualties of that fight still haunt the town, even after rebuilding.”

“Yes, well, barely four years later, he returned to the underground. Rumors of his return circulated quickly in the underworld, and it wasn’t long before government informants were passing the information back up the chain.”

“As is the way it works, yes.”

“Of course, the government sent informants to the regions in question to poke around. When they finally had their responses, it was from notably fewer people than they’d sent out. As it turned out, while the government had spent billions rebuilding Niigata after the fight, the programs for the people living there had failed, as they always seem to. All for One had stepped in to help the people in their place, and the people started to trust the man.” A slight choking noise could be heard from Naomasa. The president simply looked bored with the information he was already aware of.

“He was the one that destroyed the city in the first place!”

“And?” Midoriya just raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “sh*t like that doesn’t happen every day, certainly, but there is a certain level of destruction everyone is used to nowadays. I’m sure they didn’t like his presence at first, but what else were they supposed to do? The government had failed them, the ‘hero’ had destroyed their city and f*cked off to who knows where.” A statement, not a question. “And here is the supposed villain, bowing his head and apologizing to them, offering them work and aid, protection from the gangs and criminals that had taken root.”

Naomasa felt a knot settle in his stomach as Midoriya continued. He didn’t like where this was going. “The last time they’d fought the man, the losses incurred had been astronomical, personally and monetarily. They couldn’t risk losing the Symbol of Peace, as he was called by that point, so the government decided to take a different approach this time around.”

“Quite a useful one, all things considered. I’d prefer to get this smoothed out quickly. A war with All for One would be problematic.” Nedzu had calmed down marginally after hearing that All for One wasn’t the main culprit. The knot in Naomasa’s stomach cinched tighter.

“What approach did the government take, Midoriya?” Midoriya gave him a look of something approaching pity, even if it didn’t make it further than his eyes.

“The first thing they did was declare an information quarantine. No one that was on the original investigation team was to be informed. You were all supposed to continue living your lives considering him dead.”

“That’s not possible. All of us were fairly high-ranking officers at the time. We would have come across traces of his existence again.”

“You’re right. You never did because you transferred to a small precinct, and one or two of the others had the same luck, I think. Would have to check my files to be sure.”

“And the rest?”

“Either they followed the NDA and left it alone, or they were silenced. Too much of a security risk, otherwise.”

“How many.”

“At least one, couldn’t give you an exact number. I never continued the line of investigation. Wasn’t important.” Naomasa wanted to yell for that comment. Each of them had been damn good cops on that team. It did matter. But that wasn't what Midoriya was saying, even if it felt like it.

“What did they do next?” Nedzu was the one to answer him this time. He was hunched forward slightly, elbow on his knee and paw on his chin.

“They brought those of us to the table they thought needed to be involved in a long-term negotiation. The Yaoyorozu Conglomerate, Detnerat, NTT, Nippon, and Dai-ichi Life, the top three hero schools, so U.A., Ketsubutso, and Shiketsu. There were also a few other groups, but it hardly matters now.” Midoriya nodded.

“Mei and I were brought in a few years ago after All for One visited us in our headquarters. The government views our technology as an integral part of the redesign and expansion of the JSDF. So when we were visited, the government stepped in and brokered a deal between us.” If Naomasa could have gone paler, he would have. As it was, he felt a painful thump in his chest.

“You have deals with All for One?” Naomasa practically croaked the words.

“‘Had’ would be the operative word. He thought our technology could help heal him.” Naomasa’s eyes widened in horror.

“You- you didn’t.”

“Oh gods no. I’m not stupid, Nao. We both walked away unhappy with the deal, but it has held.” Naomasa slumped.

“f*cking start with that!” Midoriya shrugged.

“As it was, we couldn’t have fixed him at that point anyway. Could do it now, but there isn’t a chance in hell I’m going to.”

“What did you do for him, then?”

“I gave him his face back and restored his sinuses. Even if he’s a meatball on the inside, still doesn’t mean he had to look like it. All Might literally managed to punch a man's face off.” Naomasa rubbed his temple.

“That was supposed to kill him.” Midoriya rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, real heroic, that. If you want someone dead, chop off their head and burn the body. Otherwise, you're going to end up with them crawling back out of the grave.” Naomasa looked slightly aghast at the thought but waved his hand.

“Back on topic. What was the deal they made with All for One?” Nedzu shrugged this time.

“Fairly groundbreaking for who it was made with but nothing crazy in the contents. We recognize his presence and the good he’s doing for Niigata. The government ceases its pursuit of the man, as well as his operations. In return, he makes certain concessions and follows certain rules.” Naomasa simply hung his head, tired and drained.

“This entire thing is making a mockery of justice. What rules did he have to follow?”

“There were two major clauses for All for One to follow. The one of lesser importance was regarding the crimes that the government wasn’t willing to look the other way on. No more terrorism. No genocide, slavery, human trafficking, or cannibalism. No violations of the Geneva Conventions. Most of that is self-explanatory and irrelevant but was put down, anyway.”

How the hell is any of that the lesser importance?

“The big thing was the second clause. Should Japan come under assault from a foreign power, All for One would step up and aid in Japan’s defense.” Naomasa felt his jaw drop.

“You turned the symbol of evil into a god damned nuclear deterrent?!” Midoriya scoffed at him.

“You sound like Shimura. The only people who called him the symbol of evil were the One for All users,” Midoriya muttered. f*cking edgy name. Naomasa was staring blankly at him again.

“You know about One for All. And Shimura? What about Shimura?” Midoriya threw his hands in the air before letting them fall back into his lap, disconcerted. Midoriya winced. Bad idea.

“A conversation for another time. You’re here about the USJ, aren’t you?”

“Of course it is.” Naomasa looked around before shaking his head. “I need coffee before we continue this.”

…

The silence that Nedzu’s secretary walked into was stifling. One of his employer’s personal students laid in the bed, bandaged from the neck down, while his other sat on the window sill, glaring at the police detective. A police detective who looked one step from death. Tired and sick. Nedzu simply sat next to the side table with a cup of tea and his teapot. That particularly confused the secretary, because he had just seen that exact teapot on the president's desk, and he certainly hadn’t brought it down to the mammal. In fact, he had his hands full with the requested coffee.

The detective took the coffee from him gratefully while Hatsume practically snatched the other cup, now glaring at the student in the bed before downing half of it, all while maintaining eye contact. After a moment, she went back to glaring at the detective. The secretary shook his head. Whatever this was, he didn’t want to know. He had kept this position for so long because of one thing. Discretion. He sure as hell wasn’t going to stop that now.

The president dismissed him, and he gladly left the room.

…

“So, the USJ.” Naomasa broke the awkward silence once the door closed behind Nedzu’s secretary. The coffee tasted glorious. Real beans, instead of the instant sh*t they had at the precinct. “Hatsume, I’m going to have to ask you to-”

“Bite me.” Hatsume’s glare narrowed, daring Naomasa to finish that sentence. Midoriya put his hand on her arm before turning back to the detective.

“It’s fine, Nao. Anything I have to say, she already knows, anyway. My suit was recording the entire time.” A frustrated scream was beginning to build in Naomasa’s chest.

“Are you telling me that we have a full recording of the USJ from start to finish, from your perspective? And you are just now telling me this?” Midoriya’s eyes widened as they flicked between the other three in the room with him. Three levels of varying disbelief and, in Hatsume’s case, amusem*nt.

“Uh, whoops?” Naomasa rubbed his face with a sigh.

“This, Midoriya. This kind of sh*t is why we stopped asking for your help.” Midoriya flinched.

“In my defense, I have other things on my mind at the moment.” Naomasa leveled a flat stare at the two students.

“We arrested just over two hundred villains at the USJ, dead and alive. The students fought over five-to-one odds. And you’re just now telling me that the evidence I needed was just hanging out in a server bank somewhere. I want that recording.” Hatsume clicked her tongue but pulled an external hard drive from one of her pockets and handed it to him. Naomasa gave his thanks curtly. “I’ll review the footage later. For now, tell me what happened. I want to hear your thoughts.” Midoriya shrugged.

“You’ll see my actions. I did what I believed was necessary in order to keep the others alive.”

“That’s not what I was asking, Midoriya.”

“My actions speak for themselves. I will not apologize, if that is what you’re looking for.” Naomasa glanced down and placed his hand on the hard drive.

“Fine. I’ll be back after reviewing the footage with more questions. I should-” Nedzu’s eyes gleamed as he cut in.

“I think you should stay. We could use your quirk for my questions.” Naomasa took in the narrowing of Midoriya’s eyes, as well as the smile on Nedzu’s face, which never failed to send shivers down his spine.

“I don’t think you’ll find his quirk terribly useful against me.” Naomasa narrowed his own eyes.

“Why is that, Midoriya?”

“Because I don’t lie.” Naomasa sat back down. Something told him that he should just get the revelations out of the way.

“Everyone lies, Midoriya.”

“Not everyone, Nao.”

“Midoriya, did you run experiments on sentient beings with the purpose of developing extensive genetic and mechanical modifications.”

“No, I did not.” Naomasa raised his eyebrows at the two beings staring each other down. He didn’t know why these questions were being asked or where they were going, but considering the content, Naomasa wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“True.”

“Have you, Midoriya, ever intentionally harmed a sentient being for an experiment or test.”

“No, I have not.”

“True.”

“Is Midoriya Izuku the only name that you have ever gone by?” Midoriya stiffened. It was minute, but Naomasa saw his hand clench at his side.

“Of course not. I’m an information broker.”

“True. Nedzu, I’m not sure where you’re going with this, but-.”

“Midoriya, how old were you when you received your military training?” It was Naomasa’s turn to stiffen. Military training? Naomasa had always assumed that Midoriya had been trained by some ex-hero. A vigilante maybe. Hell, even a villain. He hadn’t gone to the military. Midoriya had been too young. Midoriya grit his teeth, eyes flicking toward Naomasa.

“I joined the military in a legal manner.” True.

“That wasn’t the question, Midoriya. Were you under eighteen Earth years old when you joined the military?” Midoriya narrowed his eyes as if in thought before hissing at the chimera. Nedzu offered a vicious grin.

“Fourteen. I was fourteen when I went through basic training.” Naomasa blinked. True.

“Midoriya, the minimum age to join the JSDF is eighteen.”

“I’m well aware.”

“Was it the JSDF that you joined at the age of fourteen, Midoriya?”

“No,” he replied shortly, the word practically a growl. True.

What exactly was going on here? Midoriya had never left Japan before beginning his company, according to their records. Besides, that wasn’t- Wait, fourteen?

“Midoriya, how old were you when you were put into your coma?” Midoriya turned a snarl towards him.

“Et tu, Brutus? I was put into a year-long coma on my fourteenth birthday.” True. Nedzu looked like he had just won the jackpot as his eyes lit up. Finally, a puzzle piece clicked into place for the chimera.

“What was the quirk of your attacker, Midoriya?” Midoriya’s face became stony.

“Explosion.” True. Nedzu’s smile dropped a bit. That tainted the small victory.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware that Bakugo would go that far, even at such a young age. I would never have allowed him into this school if I had known.”

“We’ve had that conversation, sir.” Less jubilantly, Nedzu nodded his head and continued.

“The quirk of the man who put you in a coma, Midoriya?”

“Unknown, even to me.”

“True.” All three men turned towards Hatsume, fidgeting with several small parts of some device. She shrugged. “No reason Nao should get to have all the true/false fun.”

Nedzu stopped asking questions for a long moment, long enough that Naomasa felt like he might get up and leave. He already had enough to sort out in his head without whatever nonsense was going on with Midoriya. Hell, it hadn’t even been his case. Then Nedzu lit up, and Midoriya’s snarl was back in full force.

“Don’t you f*cking ask that-”

“How old were you during the majority of your special forces operations?” Midoriya opened his mouth to shout but clenched down hard enough he felt his jaw creak.

“Old enough and with enough training.” Nedzu smiled. He had him.

“Mei we’re leaving.” Midoriya attempted to get up and leave before he was pushed back down by Naomasa. Midoriya snarled at the man.

“I’m considering this a part of the USJ investigation now Midoriya. Who are you?”

“How many Earth years old were you during the majority of your special forces operations?”

“Late twenties, early thirties.” Both creatures blinked. Nedzu’s brain worked in overdrive, looking for an explanation with what he knew. He expected an extra year or two. Maybe he was a government plant in U.A. Maybe he came up with some kind of youth serum. Nedzu hadn’t known what to expect on that front, really, but he hadn’t expected a decade of time missing. As if the reason for his anger had suddenly left, Midoriya sagged with a long, sad sigh.

“Told you it would come out at some point, Izu.”

“How f*cking pointless.” Straightening, Midoriya placed his left arm behind him in the small of his back and his right arm fisted across his stomach. With a slight bow of his right shoulder, Midoriya spoke.

“Allow me to reintroduce myself properly. Lieutenant Perry Midoriya Izuku, second in command of the Black Cats, at your service.”

Chapter 53: Chapter #52 | Soldier of Honor

Chapter Text

It was a slow, meandering walk that took Midoriya and Hatsume the long way to the dormitories. On one side of Midoriya, Hatsume walked along with her eyes trained on him. He felt like an old man, as on the other side, Midoriya walked with a cane supporting his weight. The bandages chafed at his wounds, and the white of the cotton bandages peeked out from underneath his shirt and shorts, covering the skin that was revealed.

Evidently, the resentful annoyance present on Midoriya’s face wasn’t enough for the students along the path to cease their stares at his injuries. Midoriya could understand that, he supposed. It wasn’t often that you saw someone under twenty-one look like they had just crawled out of the grave.

Midoriya looked down at the paper in his hand with a scowl. Instructions he’d have to follow if he wished to remain in U.A., instructions that he would have liked to have told Nedzu to shove up his ass. Ambush him with a truth quirk after he had just woken up. Ambush him with questions about things that were none of his business. His military service was his to share and his alone. Midoriya wouldn’t have even cared about the truth quirk, he couldn’t lie anyway, if refusing to answer wouldn’t have been an affirmation in and of itself.

“You know, we could always threaten to transfer. Pull our funding and go somewhere like Shiketsu. I’m sure they’d love to have us.” Midoriya snorted at the mere idea of the threat.

“Oh, the board would hate that, sure, but no school’s going to take me right now. Quirkless and a killer. Too much heat to take in something like that.” Hatsume scowled, opening her mouth. Midoriya cut her off. “No, I don't see myself like that now, but it is how they would see it. Besides, Nedzu’s just pissed that he had no chance of figuring it out. Well, that and the self-experimentation. He’s royally pissed with that.”

“Shouldn’t be,” Hatsume grumbled. “You didn’t harm anything sentient.” Midoriya made a noise amounting to an eh and wiggled his free hand.

“With his past, experimentation is a bit of a sore subject. I’m sure I’d have had just as violent a reaction if I were in his shoes.”

“Tiny shoes.” Midoriya gave Hatsume a blank look. “What?” she drew out the word with a seemingly innocent smile. “He has tiny little strange digitigrade shoes.”

Midoirya gave a bit of a wry smile before frowning again and looking back to the page of instructions.

“You know, Shimura hasn’t shown back up yet.”

Hatsume raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a good thing? She was driving you insane.”

Midoriya took a breath before letting it out. “I’m not so sure anymore. She showed up in my memories.”

“Excuse me? Like, overwriting your memories, or some sort of temporal bullsh*t?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. When I was out cold, I was reliving a few of my memories. She showed up, and we had a bit of a talk.” Hatsume frowned,though her voice was soft when she spoke next.

“That something you do a lot? Relive your memories?”

“Every time I close my eyes. Some good, some bad. She found me in one of the bad ones.”

“You worried that she’s still in there?”

“I hope for her sake she’s not.”

“You sure she wasn’t just a hallucination in that brain of yours?” Midoriya smacked Hatsume’s shin with his cane. The inventor couldn’t help but yelp at the blunt force and bounce a bit on one leg.

“Huh, so that’s why Recovery Girl likes these so much.”

…

Despite most of the students still being inside the building, it was quiet in the dormitory for Class 1-A. A serious and sullen silence had descended, hanging as if a cloud over the building, and as much so the heads of the very students themselves. There were few people in common areas of the first floor, and as such, there were few heads that turned when the front doors quietly clicked open.

Toga slammed hard enough into Midoriya’s ribs to have him heaving a breath. The blood had left his face, and despite the cane, Toga had him on the floor while his ears rang and his vision swam. Midoriya’s faculties were slowly coming back to him, and when they did, the room was in a panic.

“I- I- I didn’t know, I.” Jiro’s panicked expression was matched only by Toga’s tone.

“I’m. I’m good.” Midoriya’s croak came out raspier than he’d intended. Raspier than he thought should have been possible, considering his throat was coated in- ah. That was why they were panicking.

“You very much aren’t good, Midoriya. You’re spitting up blood.” Midoriya turned his gaze toward Class 1-A’s president and gave a smile, one that would have been more convincing if his teeth weren’t stained copper. Carefully, Midoriya took Hatsume’s offered assistance and slowly regained his footing. He reclaimed his cane, gratefully leaning his weight on it.

“Yes, well, I’ll admit this is probably the worst I’ve been injured in a long time. I’ll survive a bit of blood in my lungs.” The wry comment did nothing to comfort or soothe the faces of his- he paused, considering. Classmates? Students? Hell, it didn’t really seem to matter anymore. “Could you do me a favor, Yaoyorozu?”

“Make you new bandages? You’re bleeding through those.” The stony tone had Midoriya sighing as he looked down and saw that, yes, evidently, he had busted the stitches in his side.

“Himi, could you go get the first aid kit? It should have what we need. As for what I need from you, Yaoyorozu, I have information for the class, both my own and what I was asked to pass on from our rat overlord. Could you go get the rest of the class? And if it isn’t too much, could you send someone to go collect 1-B next door? It would be best if I do this all at the same time.”

“I can try, but…” Yaoyorozu trailed off before finding her words again. “Some of the students have been taking things worse than others since the USJ.” Midoriya dipped his head and sighed.

“Just, do your best. That’ll be enough.” Yaoyorozu offered a sort of cringe at the statement but nodded. She strode off just as Toga was coming back. She helped Midoriya remove his shirt before beginning to unwind the bandages around his midsection. The exclamation he heard had Midoriya blinking blearily, his face tipped in the students’ direction.

Almost all of 1-A had taken up residence in the common area by the time Midoriya looked around, while several students from 1-B were still trickling in, their expressions aghast, their eyes wide and fixated on him. He’d zoned out. Odd, must be more out of it than I thought. Hagakure, Midoriya realized, had been the one to gasp at the sight of him. He gave her a sardonic grin. “You guys happen to catch the number of the bus that hit me?” A round of awkward, humorless chuckling.

“I think it would be easier for your classmates to laugh if you didn’t look like a butcher had just finished putting you back together, Midoriya.” Midoriya’s eyes rolled drolly to the doorway, where three people that he hadn’t expected to show up stood, watching him with quiet apprehension.

“To what do we owe the honor of U.A.’s big three making an appearance like this?” Togata frowned while Amajiki hid, half behind him. Hado was the one to answer, far softer than he had come to expect from the girl.

“We’re just coming to check on our underclassmen. You all went through quite an event.” Discontent murmured its way across the class as Midoriya’s smile struggled to stay plastered on his face.

“Yes, well. Feel free to sit down. I need to talk to you three, anyway. I was going to get to you tomorrow, but we’ll just get it over with tonight.”

The last few students, it seemed, had already made their way in, finding places around the room to stand. Midoriya sighed and, nodding, stood with only slight difficulty.

“Hello, everyone. As Hado has so lovingly stated,” he began, his tone thick with unintentional sarcasm, “we’ve all been through a tremendous deal of stress over this past week.” Midoriya took a deep breath, looking at each of them and then down at the piece of paper in his hand.

“The truth of the matter is that, in this line of work, you will have to see things, do things, that will haunt you until the day you die. But the truth of the matter is also that it should have never happened this early. It is unfortunate that an attack occurred on school property and even more so that it happened to students so young and early in their careers. The faculty will be working tirelessly to improve and help the students, so that a situation such as this does not occur again, and so the students can move forward with their chosen career paths.” Midoriya found the same varying levels of disgust that he had felt at repeating the statement reflected in the faces of the two classes in front of him. Even the big three looked a bit queasy.

“That’s the official statement of the faculty and board of U.A. University to us students. I can tell from the look on your faces that it sounded just as much like political bullsh*t as it tasted to say.” Midoriya folded the piece of paper in his hand once, twice, against his leg, allowing himself a brief pause before continuing. “Luckily for us, our president may be a psychotic, chimeric ass at times, but he understands full well that political BS isn’t what we want to hear at the moment.” A chorus of affirmations had Midoriya shifting, nodding.

“So what the hell is he going to do for us?” Midoriya turned slowly to the voice on his left. Sero sat with Kaminari. His voice was horse from smoke inhalation, and his arms were wrapped in bandages, discolored from what Midoriya suspected was burn cream. Kaminari sat next to him, looking as if he was one angry accusation away from crying, which, the situation being what it was, Midoriya supposed, that could be exactly what was happening.

“Before I get to that, I should address some of the questions you have about me, don’t you think?” The middle finger Shinso flagged in the air caught Midoriya’s attention first. It made a lot more sense, though, when he followed it with sign language.

“What did he say?” Tsunotori asked the question. Poor girl is barely getting a hold of Japanese as a language. She’s in for a hell of a time when she has to learn JSL. A few of her classmates echoed the sentiment, which had Midoriya quietly pursing his lips. Another class to recommend for them.

“He apologizes for being unable to speak. His throat is still healing after his stint in the fire zone.” A few members of the class went rigid at the mention. “He then asks how exactly the villains from the USJ knew me and I them.” More waving of Shinso’s middle finger. “I’m certain that you don’t all need that part translated.”

“Well? It’s a good question. How the hell did you know the villains, Midoriya?” Midoriya dipped his head in Shoji’s direction.

“First, allow me to reintroduce myself.” Midoriya placed his left hand behind his back while keeping his right on the cane to keep himself stable. “My name, as you all know, is Midoriya Izuku. Physically eighteen, born July 15, 2293.”

“What does this hav-”

“I am also known as Lieutenant Perry Midoriya Izuku, second in command of the Black Cats.” The room froze, having put Midoriya’s military service out of their minds with everything that had happened since the revelation, cast aside as it was. Yaoyorozu made a note to herself to have her family look into these Black Cats.

“What are the Black Cats?” Uraraka and Togata questioned simultaneously. Midoriya smiled briefly at their shared look at one another.

“The Black Cats are the unit I served in for the majority of my military service. They were a black book special forces unit.”

“Midoriya, are you telling me that you served not only underage but underage in the special forces.” Midoriya dipped his head at Iida’s strangled tone and expression.

“There are extenuating circ*mstances that the police are aware of.” One police officer. “And a vast majority of my time wasn’t spent underage.”

“How old are you?” Midoriya sighed at the follow-up. He expected it, of course.

“Do you want my physical or mental age?” The joke wasn’t received as well as he’d hoped. “I am currently eighteen years old, Iida. Same as you.”

Midoriya shook his head at their confusion. “I would tell you how, but, if I’m being honest, I don’t like talking about it. Knowing the exact details of the situation also involves an active investigation, so if you want stories of my service, sure. Just understand that what happened to me isn’t going to make sense chronologically.”

“That doesn’t answer Shinso’s question.” Kirishima this time.

“Right. To get back on track, I grew quite disgusted with heroes a few years ago, a fact that I’m sure some of you have already picked up on. I have my reasons, but getting into those here would keep you all night. Using the skills afforded to me by my experiences and the technology developed at Moonlit Industries, I began operating as something akin to an information broker.”

The room at large seemed to still. “So, you work with villains.” Sero’s face twisted bitterly with disgust. Midoriya inclined his head.

“I have worked with heroes, law enforcement, the government, vigilantes, and villains. I’ve hired all of the above if I believed them to have the skills necessary to achieve the goals I’d set or that were set for us. Primarily, we work closely with the government.” More mixed responses.

“Then you’ve worked with the ones that attacked us before?” It was more of an accusation than a question from Sero, but Midoriya didn’t let it get to him.

“No. In this case, I have never-” Midoriya gagged, scowling as he covered his mouth with the back of his hand. Several of those in the room eyed him with concern. “Sorry. No, I’ve never worked with these specific villains. I have been part of a deal brokered between myself and their leader. To be clear, it was the government itself that brokered that deal.” Now that got a reaction from the class, and even from the big three. Midoriya put his hand up after a moment more of chaos.

“The government is working with villains?” Tetsutetsu asked, looking more like a mummy than a person. Midoriya just wiggled his free hand.

“Before I answer that question, I need to distinguish something. We as a society overuse the word villain. A vast majority of the people you encounter will never be dangerous enough or commit deeds that deserve that title. They are criminals, yes, but they are not villains.” Nods of understanding had Midoriya continuing.

“These individuals aren’t like that. Around the world, there are a handful of true villains that even the government classifies as existential threats to the peace and prosperity of society, should they attack us. Japan has two of these. One on the west coast, one in Okinawa. In both cases, the government could do something about them, but it simply isn’t worth the cost both to the country and its people.”

“So we just have to live with them?” Kendo looked like she was going to be sick.

“It depends. If they are a threat and refuse to come to heel, the government is likely to strike at and remove them. This has happened thrice in the last decade in the European Federation, for example. In this case, we’re lucky. Both of ours take care of the people in their regions.” Yaoyorozu snorted derisively.

“Yeah, and the mob in Italy takes care of their people, too.” Midoriya dipped his head in concession. Before he could respond, however, Togata chimed in, gaining the attention of both classes. The way his expression twisted, so laughably adverse to the confidence and hopefulness that he usually wore, reminded Midoriya errantly of someone who’d eaten something sour.

“They teach you about both them and this in your third year normally, and it’s supposed to be a thought experiment.” Midoriya clicked his tongue at that.

“Yeah, well. When people can turn themselves into weapons of mass destruction, that changes.” Monoma raised his hand, catching the attention of the two men.

“What exactly do they teach as a thought experiment?”

Midoriya poised to answer as Togata continued sucking on his metaphorical lemon.

“That crime, at its fundamental level, cannot be eradicated. If then we cannot eradicate it, wouldn’t it be better to control it? To shape it in an acceptable direction? That we police certain crimes harsher and more doggedly while allowing others to go under the radar more often, or so the criminals think, that we could shape the criminal underground into a more acceptable form.” More mixed reactions, mostly negative.

“This is, I say again, more necessary when the people in question can eradicate an entire city before they’re stopped. The government brokers deals with a lot of various, and sometimes morally questionable, individuals to ensure that the general public can live peacefully from day to day.”

“So what? Some kind of supervillain has it out for the government and that’s why we got attacked? Who is it?” Sero, again. Midoriya didn’t blame him for being angry but, nevertheless, shook his head.

“Sorry, I can’t tell you that one.”

“Why not? Don’t we deserve to know who attacked us?”

“Tomura Shigaraki, class-3 emitter quirk, Kurogiri, class-6 warp quirk, a biological weapon designed to fight All Might, and finally, a slew of villains with quirks ranging from class-1 to class-2. That is who attacked the USJ. That is who is wanted for the attack.”

“And what? Their boss just wasn’t involved?” Rather than anger, Midoriya noted the anxiety in Sato’s tone and saw it reflected in the faces of several of his classmates.

“In all likelihood, he knew nothing of this attack. If he wanted to do something like this? It would have happened very differently from how it did. I wouldn’t be surprised if Shigaraki gets his neck wrung for this.”

“Why are we being told any of this?” Aoyama spoke up from the back of the room, and for once, his sparkles weren’t quite so bright. Wait, why the f*ck am I seeing sparkles?

“Simple. This is what Nedzu wants to provide you. If not solace, then information. The first step of that is my being honest with you. I want you to know that any of you, and I do mean any of you, can come to me if you need something or have questions. As far as I’m concerned, labels of classes just went out the metaphorical window.”

“We’ve been through hell, all of us, and each and every one of you sitting here today have gone through something I don’t wish on anyone, no matter the experience. Each of you is a hero to the person beside you. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. Brothers and sisters all, not in blood but in deed. Trust each other to have your backs, as you’ll have theirs.”

“Is Honenuki okay?” Kaminari’s voice was small and hesitant. The tone had Midoriya turning to him. He felt his heart clench when Kaminari couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Honenuki had to have a pacemaker put in, and he’ll be in physical therapy for a little bit. But he’ll live.” Kaminari hung his head even lower.

“What about Shishida?” As it was Setsuna who had asked, Midoriya turned discreetly to their sister class’ president. He saw in Kendo’s eyes that she had some idea already. She had seen him when they’d pulled him from the conflagration zone. Some part of her knew already, and she was dreading it, but it was her responsibility to ask. Slowly, she took hold of Setsuna’s hand and nodded to Midoriya.

“I am sorry to inform you that Shishida Jurota died while in transit to the hospital. The fire had simply spread over too much of his body, and the shock of his injuries was too great. I’m sorry.”

Nothing he had said before mattered at that moment. Not his injuries, not the deaths they had inflicted. No implications or insinuations. No one was a hero at that moment. Midoriya wasn’t sure who was the first to break, or even who was second. One by one, the class shattered. 1-B had known Shishida the best, but he had been a friend to them all, someone who was soft and kind-hearted and relentless.

“It wasn’t long that we knew Shishida, but it was long enough. He was protective, kind, smart, and so well mannered that he was almost a pain at times.” A wet chuckle cropped up from somewhere in the room.

“Everyone here knows what it meant to him to protect those around him. From school assignments to the partnered combat training, he gave his all to keep his classmates safe, and that protection was one he enacted until he passed away. For his actions at the USJ, for the protection of not just those in the flames but for every one of us, we owe him a debt that we’ll never fully repay. But by honoring his memory, he will never be forgotten.”

Slowly, Midoriya made his way to Kendo. “We may not have known him as well as you all did, but it’s enough. Shishida protected us all, and from now on, we’ll all protect each other. Grab the spare futons from the closets. No one should be alone tonight. Too much information and not enough time to process it.”

“The faculty won’t like it.” Not a question, just a statement of fact. The faculty wanted the hero course back in their respective dorms before curfew.

“If the dorm faculty have a problem with it tonight, given what’s happened, they won’t be faculty here long. The professors understand better than most. It’s alright.” Midoriya pointed at the three silent observers, watching as two hero classes began to mourn their fallen. He jerked his thumb at the staircase and elevator on the other side of the doorway, knowing that they would follow behind him. He could trust the classes to their presidents.

Chapter 54: Chapter #53 | Dawn of the Betrayed

Chapter Text

The elevator hummed quietly beneath the four students as it moved upwards. Blue eyes met blue eyes before flicking to meet indigo. Midoriya stood with his back to the others but felt their gazes on him, all the same.

Out of the elevator, Midoriya led the three down a long corridor, stopping at a door near the end that was key locked, as well as protected by a wall-mounted code pad to its right. Wordlessly, he slipped a key ring from his pocket, inserting the key before typing a series of numbers onto the pad. The group standing behind him listened as the inner mechanisms sounded with a loud thunk. Midoriya returned to the key and, turning it, opened the door.

Togata was going to ask what precisely was so special about the room that required all of the extra security when the question died in his throat. While not much larger than the rooms they had as third years, the fully stocked armory cage in the back corner, especially when combined with the workbench beside it, took up any extra space there might have been.

“Uh,” Hado pointed at the cage, for once seemingly dumbfounded by the sight, rather than enticed into questions. “What.”

Midoriya gave her a small grin. “Well, that is certainly new. You all know that I aid the teachers from time to time. Sometimes Snipe asks me to work on some of the school's armory. Hence, the added security. But all of that,” Midoriya gestured to the workstation and extended room, “isn’t relevant to what we need to discuss.”

Togata’s eyes flicked away from the rifles in the cage, the very obvious long-range rifles, and returned his gaze to Midoriya. Amajiki shuffled over to the cage for a closer look and to avoid Midoriya’s prying eyes. Hado still looked dumbfounded.

“What do you need to talk about? Something from the president?” Midoriya offered Togata a wiggling gesture with his hand before sitting down at the desk sitting off-center in the middle of the room. He pulled several packets of papers from the filing cabinet next to the desk, and, hovering his hand over a cup as he thought, plucked several pens from it. He handed both the pens and the paperwork over to three.

“NDAs, sign and we can continue.” That seemed to shock Hado out of her dumbfounded fugue.

“Why do we need to sign NDAs for this conversation? Is it related to what the president wanted you to tell us? Oooh, is it a government secret like you were talking about with the students earlier? Does it have something to do with the USJ? We’re totally one step from full-time heroes, right, so does it have something to do with that?” Midoriya waited a moment for a break in the questions to throw up his hands, stopping the woman short.

“Something like that. Sign and we can talk. You can only discuss what we’re about to talk about with parties that have been approved. All of the details are there in the packet. It’s a standard non-disclosure agreement, something I’m sure you’re all used to. Especially you, Amajiki.” Something sharp and dangerous flitted behind Amajiki’s eyes before quickly being masked by the nervous, socially shy expression that everyone was used to. A wonderful schooling of his features that was utterly betrayed by his friends' tense statures.

Midoriya waited for them to read through the packet, the atmosphere calm in their silence. When they returned the papers to him, Midoriya looked at the packets for a long moment before letting out a long breath. He placed his cane between his legs and leaned against it from his office chair as he took in the Big Three scattered throughout the room.

“Alright. Who here wants to work for the Hero Commission?” The three looked at each other, baffled. “Confusing statement, isn’t it? Hero licenses and, with them, the ability to use your quirks in public are all sanctioned and regulated by the Hero Commission. No one at any hero school teaches anything different, and of course, the only place U.A. mentions it is in the exit counseling that a majority of students will skip, anyway.”

“What does this have to do with the NDAs we just signed, Midoriya?” The question from Togata had Midoriya nodding, holding up a hand.

“I’m getting there. So, you have a variety of options that don’t involve the Hero Commission. The government is more than happy to accept you into several roles. Underground heroes and freelance heroes are not governed by the Commission, and, in fact, three of our top ten heroes currently do not work with the Commission. Our number five, Edgeshot, seventh, Miruko, and our ninth, Ryukyu.”

That had Hado sitting up straighter. She had been aware of the tension between her mentor and the Commission suits that showed up constantly, but she hadn’t been aware that her mentor wasn’t with the Commission at all.

“Why? I thought Ryukyu had a hero license?” Midoriya looked toward Hado and nodded.

“It’s not something they advertise, because, well, why would they? The reason Ryukyu doesn’t report to the Commission is irrelevant to this point, but if you want to hear it, just ask her. I’m sure she’d tell you. Though, I would maybe get a drink or two in her first. It’s not a pleasant tale.”

“What is the point of this, then?” Midoriya sighed.

“I bring this up because if you do want to work with the Hero Commission, then knowing the information I’m about to tell you might actually end up being a detriment. They aren’t part of the government, and they most certainly don’t like anyone knowing things unless it is on their own terms. It won’t stop you from getting your license, per se, but they will make your life significantly harder for knowing things above your station, as they would put it.”

“This has something to do with what you were talking about downstairs.” It wasn’t a question from Togata but a statement, one that Midoriya could only dip his head in affirmation of. “Why us?” Midoriya looked between the three, and as none of them got up to leave with that new knowledge, continued on.

“Three reasons, really. One, you three are the best of your class and three of the most promising up-and-coming heroes in the country, and that isn’t Nedzu blowing smoke. Nedzu expects you three will all make big waves wherever you go after graduation. Two, after the USJ incident, it was made readily apparent to the rat how woefully unprepared for warp quirks U.A’s defenses are. And, if we’re being honest, there isn’t much that we can do to prepare for them. There is a reason that the handful of warp quirks in the world are tightly controlled by the governments they live under. Three, amongst your group, you have the best spread.” Midoriya pointed at each of them in turn, beginning with Togata, “Commission,” at Hado, “freelance,” and finally at Amajiki, “underground.”

“The president expects us to take the lead in protecting the non-hero students if something big happens.” Midoriya dipped his head again to Togata.

“I suspect that won’t be a problem?” The three each gave Midoriya vaguely offended looks that he simply clicked his tongue at. “Yes, obviously, but the question had to be asked.”

Midoriya collected a palm-sized bar from his desk before setting it down on the floor. Phoenix, if you’d be so kind as to display Japan. Mark Okinawa, Niigata, and Kanazawa, please. The bar flickered, and the room lit with a holographic display that had Hado jumping up with an expression akin to a giddy child on Christmas morning. Midoriya shot her a look that said to not ask.

“Yes, it’s a hologram. Yes, we’re almost ready to ship to the public. Please sit down.” Midoriya pointed at one of the marked locations on the map. “Okinawa. Japanese territory that is anything but under Japanese control. A class-5 quirk threat, or if you would prefer the commission's way of doing things, an S-Class supervillain known as Laverna has taken up comfortable residence here on the island. An ironic name, as her quirk is that of the mythological figure, the Kitsune.”

“You mentioned that before downstairs. Class-3, class-6, classes 1 and 2. What did you mean by that?” The unexpected question had Togata glancing at his shy friend in surprise.

“Ah, yes. It is a classification system used by the government to judge the potential threat of an individual. The commission system judges villains' threat levels by their quirks and the crimes that they can be charged with. Between these two things, they are assigned a letter class based on their threat.” Midoriya gave a sharp smile. “As a side note, I’m classified as an F-rank threat, owing to my quirklessness.”

“And the government's system?” Another question, or a continuation of the prior question, from Amajiki.

“It takes a greater number of attributes into consideration. That’s it. Quirk affects this value still but isn’t the major ruling factor. It was created after it was decided that the Commission wasn’t to be trusted.”

“That statement is a problem in and of itself, Midoriya.” Midoriya looked back to Togata and grunted.

“You don’t understand just how f*cked up the governments of the world are and just how close everyone is to returning to the Urbans. But back to the topic at hand, Laverna is a class-5 threat, yes, but that doesn’t mean she is a threat, if that makes sense. To continue the Roman analogy she seems to have going, think of her like a legate. She controls and administers Okinawa for the government, and in return, they leave her to her devices. It’s a mess of bureaucracy and rules, but it works for them, and despite some of the ongoings being less than legal, Okinawa is both peaceful and experiencing its best economic boom in centuries.”

“So they aren’t a villain?” Hado asked in confusion. Midoriya grimaced.

“The first takedown team they sent after her walked into the sea and drowned themselves. Of course, the government could have rousted her out if they’d really wanted to, but it probably would have involved military action, and as she hadn’t committed crimes that were totally unacceptable and some of the more Inari-oriented Shinshoku caught wind…” Midoriya let himself trail off. He had made his point. Togata grimaced now.

“Better the devil you know than the one you don’t.” Midoriya nodded and pointed to the map’s west coast region.

“That wonderful phrase brings us to our second supervillain, an individual whose real name is practically lost to time. All for One.” Amajiki’s head jerked in horror from the map to Midoriya.

“I know that name. You aren’t telling me he’s f*cking real?” Everyone looked at Amajiki and, while it had him flushing and his ears twitching, he kept eye contact with Midoriya.

Togata lightly placed his hand on his arm. “Jiki?”

Midoriya sighed. “Quite real, yes.” Togata looked between the two men, confused, before asking for elaboration. Amajiki, getting worked up now, stared fixedly at the map, gesturing vaguely to Togata.

“A rumor in the underground. A myth, really.” Togata looked back at Midoriya.

“Who is this guy that has Tamaki so worked up?” Midoriya pursed his lips.

“Saint or Satan, it depends on who you ask. He’s named after his quirk. Class-5 threat All for One has the ability to take and give quirks. Permanently.” Togata’s jaw dropped, and Hado reeled back as if she’d been slapped. Amajiki glared at the map as if it held the answers to an unknowable question.

“That’s not possible. It goes against everything we know about quirks.” The hushed tones of horror in Hado’s voice weren’t lost on Midoriya.

“Yes, well, in my opinion, quirks are bullsh*t and can’t be understood purely with science. But we aren’t getting into that right now. He’s quite real, but believe it or not, that isn’t why he is considered truly dangerous.”

“How is that not dangerous?!” The exclamation from Togata had Midoriya rolling his eyes.

“Take a moment to think about that question. We have somewhere around 168,480,000 people in Japan right now, give or take several tens of thousands because, you know, people who don’t want to be censused or want to f*ck with the government. You take away the roughly thirty-three and a half million people that are quirkless like me. You still have almost a hundred and thirty-five million people with quirks. Even if he took a couple hundred quirks a day, it would take him thousands of years to take everyone’s quirks in Japan.”

“That sounds plenty dangerous to me.” Togata’s hardline stance nearly had Midoriya groaning.

“And what do you think people would be doing in the meantime? Letting it happen? No. The military could put a missile in a tin can if they wanted. With him advertising his position like that, he would be done for. How many quirks do you know that could handle that? Do you think his limit would come before his eradication? I certainly do. The government certainly does. But they don’t, because that isn’t the threat.”

“Then why doesn’t the government deal with him?” It was Hado again, perturbed. “If it’s so easy to eliminate him, why not do it?” Togata moved to look at Hado, horrified at the blatant willingness to kill a man. Midoriya blew out a breath.

“Because he is damn good with people on top of his personal strength. He controls the underground in his area almost entirely. Fifteen years ago, he fought All Might to a standstill, and both walked away injured. The resulting damage nearly eradicated Niigata.”

“So it wasn’t the natural disaster the media claimed it was.” Amajiki’s calm observation had Midoriya snorting as he shook his head.

“Not in the slightest. But guess who was there apologizing in the aftermath? Helping people rebuild? Funding infrastructure and schools? Keeping crime controlled and gangs from murdering innocent people?” Togata could see where this was going, and he didn’t like it.

“All for One.”

“Yeah. All for One. Niigata to Kanazawa, he spread his underground empire, and rather than risk what had already happened once, happening again—the terrorism, the crime, the destruction— our government struck a deal with him, one that has kept the peace and controls crime in the area, in some ways more effectively than the heroes do.”

“Until now. He was the one that attacked U.A. at the USJ, wasn’t he?” More hushed tones from Hado. Midoriya was thankful he could shake his head no.

“No, thank the gods for that. It was one of his subordinates, and Nedzu and I both highly doubt All for One knew anything about the attack.”

“Things wouldn’t have gone as well?”

“Nowhere near. We’re hoping we can defuse this situation. If we can’t,” Midoriya trailed off, letting the three heroes work out the rest for themselves.

“So the president expects us to fight the demon of the underground?”

“No, he wants you all informed so that you know what to expect if this cold war goes hot. This could get ugly real quick. You three are the best bet the civilian students here at U.A. have to get away alive if another attack occurs on school grounds. Nedzu expects that it is All Might’s responsibility to fight him, as well as my own, if he shows up here on campus.” Three wide sets of eyes locked on Midoriya, and then on his cane.

“Yes, yes. The thing that did this was designed to fight All Might. I came out on top.” Midoriya didn’t feel the need to mention that it had the intelligence of a rock. “As long as All for One isn’t miraculously healed, then All Might and I should be enough to deal with him.” Midoriya also didn’t feel the need to mention that the confrontation was just as likely to leave the entirety of U.A. a smoking crater and all three of them dead.

“How?” As it trailed off, the question left Midoriya tapping his chest.

“Extensive experimental genetic and mechanical augmentation. Not as good as a dozen quirks layered onto each other or All Might’s bullsh*t, but I’ll hold my own long enough to make a difference. No,” Midoriya preempted the questions he saw at that statement. “I’m not telling you what I meant by that. Don’t ask.” A long silence permeated the room as the three students absorbed what they had been told that night.

“How likely is it that U.A. will be attacked again?” Midoriya offered Togata a flat stare.

“Practically nonexistent. But it is better to have you informed and you not need the information than vice versa, especially with this level of danger. As such, you’ll also probably get roped into security for the first, second, and third-year sports festivals. You three are being trusted by not only Nedzu but the government itself with this information. Don’t f*ck that up, and don’t do anything stupid. That means people have their eyes on you, and that could open a lot of doors for you three. Understood?”

Their confirmations had Midoriya gesturing the trio's dismissal but held Togata back once the other two had left to finish absorbing the new information. There was a conversation he needed to have with just Togata, one that wasn’t going to be overly pleasant. The door clicked shut, and Midoriya couldn’t help his umpteenth sigh of the night. By the gods, he didn’t want to have this conversation.

“Togata. Mirio, do you know why I labeled you as Commission earlier?” Togata blinked at the familiarity but let it go, shrugging.

“I figured it was something Nedzu explained.” Midoriya rubbed his eyes briefly.

“Not everything I say is me parroting the president. All the information given tonight was passed along by the president to the students, but the phrasing was my own. So why would I label you as Commission?” Togata narrowed his eyes at Midoriya but thought for a few seconds. He responded slowly.

“I’m not sure. Why?”

“Let me try this another way. The information I’m about to give you is for your ears only. It also doesn’t come from the president but my own job as an information broker, so take that as you will. Share it with your friends if you will, but understand the reason why I had them leave the room before I shared this, please.” Togata sat up a little straighter in his seat at that admission.

“I’ll reserve judgment until the end, then.” Midoriya nodded. That’s all he could ask for, especially when this part of his plans could seriously come back to bite him in the ass.

“I left out a major part of All for One and All Might’s story. A long time ago, All for One had a brother. It’s important to understand that when I speak of this, I really mean a long time ago. All for One has been around since the dawn of superhuman abilities. Be it longevity quirks or whatever, he has been around for a very long time.” That had Togata sitting as stiff as a board, his eyes blown wide. Quirks had begun their appearance in 2071. Being told that the supervillain was almost three centuries old had to be shocking.

“All for One's little brother was a sickly child, and the two loved each other growing up. I think, at least. I hope there was a time for those two that they cared about each other. Understand, Mirio, that this was a different time than what we have now. You grew up in a time of peace beyond even the Urban Rebellions. But at this point? It was so much worse even than that. Quirks were just starting to appear, and it was chaos with the government scrambling to get ahold of these individuals. Of complete oppression of quirked individuals.”

Midoriya let silence reign for a few moments as he swallowed, let Togata process what he’d just been told. He breathed out and continued.

“At some point, and I don’t know the reason for it, All for One forced a quirk on his little brother. A stockpiling quirk. I hope it was out of love, out of a misguided attempt to make his brother able to escape the confines of his sickly body, but it could just as easily have been a play for power.”

“He expected his brother to help him? With, well, whatever it was he was doing at that point?”

“He was already building the foundations of his empire. Control and favors. But yes, I suspect that could have been it. I don’t know, though, not for certain. A lot of what I know is pieced together from what little information survived the Third World War and from bits and pieces I’ve discovered from people living. Well, maybe not quite living, but that’s a story for another time.” Togata gave him an odd look, but Midoriya accepted the reaction. He couldn’t exactly tell him that he had bugged and overheard All for One telling this to Tomura, nor could he really explain his situation with Shimura. He barely understood it.

“Unknown to All for One, his brother hadn’t been born without a quirk. Useless on its own, it combined with the stockpiling quirk, the simple quirk of being able to pass his quirk on. Hence was born the quirk named One for All. I do have to wonder about the brothers and the naming scheme. Maybe they liked Dumas’s work. Guess we’ll never know. Regardless, the younger brother wasn’t strong enough to fight the elder and passed his quirk onto another with the hope that one day, someone would be able to stop his brother.” Togata scrunched his nose as he contemplated the tale.

“Does that mean that it’s still around today? That would make it, what? Nine or ten generations?” Midoriya shrugged.

“Really depends on when they died or passed it on. The early holders of the quirk lasted much longer than the later ones, busier hiding than trying to fight. Currently, the eighth generation holder has the quirk.” Togata’s head snapped to Midoriya. Midoriya couldn’t help but flinch slightly.

“It is still around? The kind of power that would provide after that long would be astronomical. You could change the world with it. You could save so many people.” Midoriya gave him a pained smile. He was glad that Togata thought that way.

“Yeah, it really could. Nana Shimura had it before the current holder, and she was one hell of a woman. Strong, kind, idealistic to a fault, but that’s what her time needed. The Urbans were a brutal affair, and it was her power that laid much of the foundation for the current system, for the era of peace we are experiencing here in Japan.”

Midoriya was thankful that the woman in question wasn’t around to hear what he had just said. He didn’t lie. He believed his own words, but that didn’t mean he was on the best of terms with her now, so long after she had died. He also had no interest in the kind of ego boost that would result from his statements. She was insufferable already. Togata looked as close to starstruck as Midoriya had ever seen from the man.

“I always looked up to Shimura,” Togata spoke quietly, reverently. “She saved a lot of lives with her actions, and she didn’t do it for prestige like a lot of heroes do now.” Well, Midoriya supposed, at least he isn’t blind to part of the problem today. Gods save him from this next part.

“Yes, well, let's leave that aside for a second. You know how much Nighteye respects All Might.” A statement that had Togata narrowing his eyes and tensing back up with suspicion.

“I’m well aware of my mentor's relationship with All Might.” Midoriya braced himself for what he was about to say and the reaction he was going to get.

“Then you’re aware of how unhealthy the obsession has become over the last decade or so?” Fire lit in Togata’s eyes, and Midoriya could see the knee-jerk reaction to defend his mentor, warring with the knowledge of what his mentor was really like. The man settled for clenched teeth and a seething warning.

“Be very careful of what you say, Midoriya. What does any of this have to do with Sir?” Togata was already pissed, that much was evident. The last time he had spoken with Togata, the topic had ended with him bashing Nighteyes’ operational methods, and he could see Togata gearing up to fight with him again.

“Who do you think is the eighth holder, Mirio? Who can change the weather literally with a punch, and who has a quirk that no one knows anything about?” The words were quiet, and Midoriya saw the reaction instantly. Blank eyes and a blank face, a moment of processing before the fire was back with a vengeance.

“You think that Sir is obsessed with All Might because he is the eighth holder of a mythical quirk?” The words hissed at him in fury. “That it can’t just be respect?”

“I know he’s obsessed with All Might’s quirk, because he’s spent the better part of several years molding you into a vessel for One for All. It’s in his own damn files.” If Midoriya thought Togata was burning hot before, then what came next was an explosion of molten rock and expletives.

“f*ck you, Midoriya. Just f*ck you. It’s no wonder Sir f*cking hates you. You f*cking deserve it.” Togata stood as if to leave, and Midoriya spoke again.

“I’m telling you this because All Might failed to cram the quirk down my throat, almost quite literally. It nearly killed me. With this event, they are going to have to tell All Might that All for One isn’t dead like he thinks. That means he’s running out of time. I just wanted you to be aware of the history of it when they come to you next, because they sure as hell won’t tell you before they expect you to just take it.” Togata had paused at the doorway. The last vestiges of courtesy burned out of him as he listened.

“f*ck you, Midoriya.” Togata slammed the door behind him, and the reverberation of the slam had Midoriya closing his eyes and rotating his head away from it.

He let out a long sigh as he glanced in the direction of his bed. He was so tired. So f*cking done. Why couldn’t anything ever just be easy? Midoriya rolled his eyes to the ceiling before taking a deep breath and standing. As much as he wanted to lie down and never get back up, he had a job to do. He had oaths that he had to uphold. Goals and oaths that weren't ever going to get completed if he did what he wanted.

So Midoriya took slow steps over to his bookcase and pulled a thick, leather-bound tome from one of its shelves. It was worn slightly, the silver clasps and binding reinforcement dulled from the hours that he had spent holding it, reading it, transcribing it back into physical form from memory.

He had one more conversation he needed to have tonight. He didn’t know if it would be welcome or not, but he had to try. And then maybe he could drug himself into oblivion and finally get a night of peaceful sleep.

Chapter 55: Chapter #54 | Compass

Chapter Text

The college chapel was quiet, projecting a solemn atmosphere. A simple white-clothed altar sat in front of intricate stained glass, depicting nothing but swirling hues of reds, blues, and greens. Seating filled the room, some comfortable chairs around circular tables, some benches little better than stones.

Shiozaki had chosen the benches two rows back from the altar. There, she buried her head in her hands, part in prayer, part in penance for the deeds that she had committed. Logically, she knew bleeding herself was simply making a mess, but she couldn’t find it in her to remove the thorns sticking into her hands, her own quirk working against her. She knew, too, that there were cabinets to the side, where she could retrieve the icons of her faith. What little comfort they would provide her warred in her head with the right she had to them.

A quiet hiss came from the back of the chapel as the door slipped open, stirring the air as it clicked back into place a moment later. A slow, methodical tapping began. One tap at a time, the sound crept closer before stopping beside her. Still, Shiozaki felt no need to look up, to find out who this interloper was.

… In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things…

The tapping started up again, this time away from her, and she couldn’t help the bitter feeling of vindication that rose up inside of her at that. The tapping ceased somewhere off to the side. She began to assume that they were seating themselves before the quiet click of a cabinet closing. The tapping began to make its way toward her once more.

… I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin…

The tapping ceased beside her once more, but instead of moving away, she felt the bench shift a bit as the presence sat down beside her. Shiozaki didn’t look up, couldn’t bear to.

… In His name. My God have mercy.

“You’ve been here for days, Shiozaki. Your classmates are worried about you. They tell me you’ve been ignoring them when they come to check on you.” The voice of the man beside her finally elicited a response from the pious woman. Shiozaki’s body jerked, and she hissed as she realized just how stiff her body was, how ingrained her hair had become into her hands and face. A large, rough hand stilled her movements.

“Careful now. I’m going to cut away the vines so we can start pulling the thorns, alright?” Shiozaki gave a noncommittal grunt before she felt the chill of cold iron brush against her skin. A crack and the knife retreated before she felt it again. Another crack, another retreat of the blade. “We can do this the painful way, or the slow way. Which one?”

“Slow.” Shiozaki gritted the word out between her teeth. She had dealt with the fast method. If he ripped them out, the thorns would break off in her skin, and they’d be pulling them with tweezers for hours.

“I wasn’t aware that you were susceptible to your own thorns.” Silence followed. It was an open invitation to speak, but she didn’t feel like explaining. Time and pressure were all that was required on that front. Slowly, methodically, the knife danced in front of her eyes, cutting into the surface of the vine and dipping below before snaking back up. One by one, the vine was cut away from the thorn until finally the pressure on the thorns vanished entirely.

Slowly, Shiozaki sat up to look at the pockmarked vine being discarded. A hiss had her looking into the eyes of Midoriya Izuku. The man scowled at her, even as he discarded the limp refuse. “Just why did you let it get to this point?” Shiozaki flinched when Midoriya’s hand reached towards her face, and he froze with a frown. His voice was soft when he spoke next. “We still have to get the thorns out before I can clean the punctures. May I?”

A nod had Midoriya reaching for her again. One hand cupped her head gently as the other reached forward to delicately extract the thorns that had gotten stuck. “You aren’t usually this thorny,” he stated, a thinly veiled question. Shiozaki opened her mouth to snark at him but felt herself swallowing, instead. When did my mouth get so dry? Even still, her voice was hoarse when she spoke.

“I prune it every morning and before I go to bed.” A hum was the only response that she received from Midoriya, so she focused on his hands. Gloved, she belatedly realized, some kind of latex. Her eyes flicked to the side and saw the first aid kit on the bench next to a cane. That explained both the gloves and the tapping that she had heard. “How are you alive?”

Midoriya quirked an eyebrow and shrugged. “Nice to see you too, Shiozaki. I’m glad to see you alive, as well.” She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I am sorry about that.” Midoriya gave her a small smile before letting it drop.

“Yes, well, I’m alive because of what I’ve done to myself. That, and Mei and I had contingencies in place for multisystem organ failure.” Shiozaki felt herself staring at Midoriya’s nonchalance in two parts shock, one part awe.

“That is a serious medical condition, Midoriya. How are you up and moving already?”

“Through the marvels of modern medical science and a lot of pain.” Midoriya let the last of the thorns from her face drop into the small puddle of blood at their feet. With a twinge, Midoriya twisted slowly to remove the alcohol wipes from the kit, as well as several bandages. He turned back, tearing one of the wipes open.

Silence reigned as he cleaned, dressed, and bandaged the punctures on her face. Silence broken only by the scuffing of clothing or the opening of a package. Midoriya was pulling her right arm into his lap when she faltered.

“Why are you here, Midoriya?” Midoriya sighed.

“Your class was worried about you. I agreed to check on you, and it’s a good thing I did. You missed what I told the classes, and you don’t have a monopoly on prayer.” Shiozaki felt her back start to go up before registering the last point he made. The fight left her as she sagged. No, she supposed, she didn’t have a monopoly on prayer.

“Do I need to ask what you’re doing here? Or would that be a redundant question?”

Shiozaki stared blankly ahead, swallowing before she spoke. “But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable, as for murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.”

Midoriya shook his head, his heart aching for this poor woman. “I thought it might be something like that. Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the Lord, that he may have compassion on him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.”

Shiozaki felt her eyes widen in surprise. “You know the scriptures?” The incredulous tone had Midoriya looking up to give her a forlorn glance.

“I have read them. I’ve read all of them. When you don’t sleep for days on end, the extra time starts to pile up. You end up ahead on all kinds of work and suddenly, you're reading or watching anything you can get your hands on.”

“That sounds useful.”

“Perhaps. I wouldn’t recommend it.” More silence as Midoriya finished up one arm, tying off the bandage and pulling the other arm into his lap.

“What did I miss?”

Midoriya, his tone even, ran through the salient points as he picked gently through the thorns. With careful efficiency, he brought her up to speed with their two missing students. Shiozaki hung her head.

“You’ll have to receive the specifics from your classmates, but that’s the quick version.” Shiozaki sent up a small prayer for the departed in their silence.

“Who do you pray to, Midoriya?” Midoriya’s lips quirked in some semblance of a smile, small and sad..

“Well,” he drew out the word in the quiet air. “It’s no faith that you would know.” The woman scowled at the comment, and he sighed. “Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time,” he began.

“Really? Once upon a time?” Midoriya chuckled lowly, shaking his head.

“All the best stories start with once upon a time. And so, once upon a time, a young man woke up in the forest at the tender age of six. He didn’t know where he was, he didn’t know how he got there. He panics because, hey, he’s six and alone in a strange forest. He runs around for a bit, finds a road, and follows it. He’s convinced he’s somewhere rural, because why else would it be a dirt road? The village that he comes to is nothing like he’s ever seen. The people speak a language he’s never heard before. There isn’t anything like an orphanage there, it’s a small farming village. Maybe two-hundred people lived there, enough for an inn, a church.”

Something in Midoriya’s eyes had Shiozaki sitting up straighter as he wrapped her arm in a bandage. Sorrow and pain, self-loathing and a burning hatred drowning in that misery.
“The sisters there were kind. They took the boy in. They raised him and taught him their language and their beliefs. He loved them like family.”

“Midoriya…” She hadn’t meant to ask for this. She could make the connection here. No story would have had the emotional connection that he was showing. She moved her hands into her lap, even as Midoriya’s wrapped around the shaft of the cane.

“The boy grew up and helped wherever he could. He’d work the fields during the day, and he’d work the tables at the inn at night. He didn’t have a family, so he made the villagers his family. When rumors of war started floating around, he started training with his friend. They wanted to protect what they had. Then the day came and, like the fools they were, he and his friend weren’t there when the enemy came and burnt it all to the ground. Burnt the buildings, burnt the fields, burnt the people.” A creaking sound and a crack had both their eyes tracking to the cane in Midoriya’s hands. The man took a deep, shuddering breath.

“I’m sorry, Midoriya. I didn’t know.” Midoriya shook his head, calming down.

“That obvious, huh? It’s fine. I just don’t like talking about it. The reason should be obvious enough.”

“It is. But why? Why are you telling me this? I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but we don’t exactly know each other well, and my question was…” Shiozaki trailed off and Midoriya offered another regretful smile.

“Yes, well, I’m getting there. I fought for a decade, for all sorts of reasons. For revenge, because it was my orders, to simply save what little life I could.” Midoriya shifted aside the first aid kit and pulled a thick leather tome into his hands. The silver reinforcements binding the book together gleamed dully in the artificial light.

“Throughout it all, through every horrible thing I saw, that I did, I kept reading our scriptures, kept questioning, and kept asking why. Why would our goddesses allow it? What awaited me after everything I had done? I eventually learned why, and what. I hated it every step of the way, and yet I kept coming back, wanting to find something to believe in. Find some meaning in all the death and misery. Whose faith hasn’t faltered? Who’s so trained to pray that they would never strain against those bindings?”

“I read part of your student file when I was informed it was going to be a joint class, a bit on all of you, really. If you hadn’t made it into the hero course, you were going to get a degree in theology, right?”

The statement chafed a bit. The faculty granting access to their student files, even parts of them, to their own students was crossing a line that she couldn’t claim to be fond of. But still, she settled herself and nodded. Midoriya slowly placed the tome in her lap. The look in his eyes made it seem like he wanted to snatch it back, but, instead, he took a deep breath and returned his hands to his cane.

“One of the first things I did when I made it back was rewrite our scriptures. Front to back, I had them memorized.”

“Giving this to me is the equivalent of handing a bible to a Muslim, Midoriya” The flat tone had Midoriya sighing.

“I’m not giving it to you in that way. It is academic. I’m giving it to you because I know you’ll take care of it, because you wished to study religions and asked who it was that I prayed to. Because when I asked why, I searched everywhere for answers. It helped, in a way. Not fully, mind you, but some. Scripture is often written to guide the lost, to teach lessons, as much as it is to teach the faith.”

Shiozaki’s hand froze on top of the book. There was truth in that statement, and if that was all it was, if - if Midoriya wasn’t trying to change her but offering her a tool to find it for herself… It went against everything she had been taught, to block out and shun anything else, but she had doubted that, as well. If she could find answers for herself…

“Academically,” Shiozaki repeated the word back to Midoriya.

“Academically.” He confirmed again. The silence had an edge to it, so Midoriya stretched before beginning to place the remaining first aid supplies back into the metal box. Once everything was cleaned up, Midoriya made to stand before pausing. With a sigh, he settled once more.

“Shiozaki.” The woman hummed a non-committal sound toward him while looking down at the plain book in her lap. “I was going to cover this with the classes later, To give them time to process what they’ve been told first. But I think it’s something that needs to be said now.” Shiozaki looked up from the book and her bandaged hands.

“People died. How each one of us processes that will be different, but you did what was necessary to survive. Sometimes, with this job, you’ll be forced to kill, to protect yourself from someone you can’t beat otherwise, to protect a civilian that you wouldn’t be able to protect, or to end a threat that would injure, maim, or kill countless others. Heroes aren’t judge, jury, and executioner, but sometimes they have no other choice. You’ll have to reconcile that, as well.”

Shiozaki grimaced and curled her bandaged fingers into fists. She didn’t want to take another life. She had already sinned enough. Damned herself enough. “Look at me, please.” She couldn’t help but flinch a little, though she moved her gaze to meet Midoriya’s.

“No matter what the media says, or the hero commission says, understand this. You did what you needed to in order to protect your classmates and yourself. I don’t know any just or fair being that would blame you for the protection of others.” It was through gritted teeth again that Shiozaki responded.

“Knowing that and feeling it are two different things, Midoriya.” Midoriya dipped his head in acknowledgment before standing unsteadily with the first aid kit in hand.

“Go back to your dorm, please. Go be with your classmates now. They’re worried about you. Eat something, get a shower, get some sleep. I don’t care what order. Doctor’s orders.” The soft tapping of Midoriya’s cane clicked away against the tile flooring. He disappeared behind the shutting door.

Shiozaki trailed her hands along the leather tome. Her fingers caught on a strip of fabric demarcating the last page Midoriya had been reading before he had last closed the book. Carefully, she opened the large book to the page in question. Neat, almost block, handwriting printed the kanji cleanly on one half of the page, and on the other half, a language she had never seen before, almost beautiful in its complex runelike visage. Glancing back at the Japanese, Shiozaki read the first passage that caught her eye.

It is in the hallowed halls of the twin goddesses in which the soul is adjudicated. But as it is in heaven that we are judged by heavenly law, it is the land of man in which we must spend our lives. Justly live by the laws of living, tempered by the laws of the Ladies, and fear not the judgment of heaven. For it is not our place to judge the dead. Only our Ladies may assume such a role and they are gracious toward those that live their lives sincerely.

Shiozaki clenched her teeth as she read. It truly ran opposite to everything, and yet she could find a kind of perverse parallel in her own scripture. She muttered Romans one and two to herself, snapping the book shut with a hitching breath. How Midoriya thought that such a text could help her, she wasn’t sure.

Still, she looked down at the book with a shudder. Perhaps… perhaps she would decide whether to read more after she checked on her classmates. Yes, she would decide after she knew they were alright.

Chapter 56: Chapter #55 | Angel Without A Conscience

Chapter Text

*Several Days Prior*

All For One was having a decidedly good day. He had been having a string of those since Midoriya had fixed his face. He could get along perfectly fine with that awful mask the good doctor had made for him, of course, but that didn’t mean that he cared for it. It was good to be able to see again. It was good to have his face again. It was even good to have his hair again.

He wasn’t a vain individual. At least, that’s what he told himself. An exacting man, he simply held himself, and those he surrounded himself with, to a greater level of expectation, particularly in regards to personal grooming habits. Looking like a disheveled testicl* hadn’t sat well with him.

All For One smiled, taking another drink from his glass. He had come here from a meeting in order to speak with Kurogiri, and while he hadn’t found him, nor young Tomura, he had discovered that the teleporter had taken immaculate care to stock the bar. It wasn’t the best whiskey he’d had—no, that honor would go to his own personal stock—but it wasn’t cheap liquor, either. After the good day he’d had so far, a moment of silent contemplation with a decent whiskey was just what the doctor had called for. Not literally, he supposed, but close enough.

The portal opening in front of the front door had All For One standing. His glass came up in the beginning of a toast but nearly lost its liquid with how quickly he had to step to the side. He watched with raised eyebrows as Tomura slid across the floor, bouncing and bowling down the barstools in his way. He looked back to the portal, ignoring the hacking of the young man on the floor.

Kurogiri materialized after a moment more, and his ragged appearance had any semblance of good nature fading quickly from All For One's face. He wasn’t so out of touch with the ability to see that he didn’t know what blood looked like. The coughing slowed enough for Tomura to devolve into furious screaming. All For One sighed dispassionately. So much for quiet contemplation.

All For One set his glass down before striding over to Tomura. Kneeling, he rested on the balls of his feet before reaching out and grasping the young man by the jaw. Calloused hands twisted Tomura’s head side to side, showing off the red skin and fingertip bruises already forming where someone had dug their hand into his throat. Tomura himself had gone silent and still in All For One's hands and stayed that way when the man stood, face stoney and cold.

“Whatever group thought that this was acceptable behavior is sorely mistaken. I’d advise you to start from the beginning.” Tomura opened his mouth when All For One raised his hand. “I wasn’t talking to you, Tomura. Kurogiri, explain.” The specter froze where he stood. Even the black mist concealing his body seemed to congeal.

“Would you prefer the long or short version, sir?” All For One tilted his head in contemplation. If this were one of his groups that had decided to end their own lives, then he would need details. Carefully, he picked up his glass once more. On the other hand…

“Give me the short version. We can speak of details after I get a handle on-”

“Tomura just led an attack on the first-year hero students at U.A.” The words froze him in his tracks. He had been thinking that someone was disobeying him, that someone didn’t know who Tomura belonged to. Steeling himself, the man took a deep, angry breath, the glass coming to rest on the counter once more with a quiet click.

“Elaborate.” Kurogiri ran it through for him, from the moment they arrived up to the nomu smearing the ground with the professor. All For One stared at the bottle rack while he contemplated. This was salvageable. They had announced themselves with Tomura’s stupid organization name, and while it wasn’t ideal, he could at least cover their tracks.

As long as the damned rat didn’t get wind of the connection, he could salvage this. This wouldn’t ruin the wonderful day he had been having. He would be having words with the doctor about field testing their experiments without his permission, of course, and he would have to impress upon Tomura how utterly stupid this stunt had been.

“And what happened to make you leave in such a…” All For One glared down his nose at the young man. He had made him kneel halfway through the story and hadn’t let him up just yet. “... disgraceful way? Did the creature fail to kill All Might?”

“The creature did fail, but All Might wasn’t there, sir.” All For One paused, his breath stuttering for only a moment, too quiet for anyone else to hear. He swept the others with an even glance.

“Who, pray tell, caused this, then? Am I to believe that mere students killed a weapon designed to take on the giant windbag?”

“It was a cheater! He-” All For One’s glare silenced the man kneeling at his feet.

“I did not ask you, Tomura.”

“It was actually Mr. Midoriya, sir, who tore the nomu to pieces.” The glass, both shatter and decay resistant, exploded under the pressure of All For One’s curled fingers. Slowly, he turned his head towards Kurogiri. His tone was low, very nearly a growl.

“W̵̭͕͎͗́h̴̖̒̊ȁ̵̟͈̑͠t̴͙̔̈́̍?” Kurogiri stepped back as All For One came forward, fury and malice radiating from him in waves. He stooped low, grabbing Tomura by the throat again before pulling on his quirk. Tomura screamed as All For Once growled, dragging the young man along. A few quick steps took the two men to a small utility closet on the opposite side of the bar. All For One yanked the door open, letting it slam back into the wall.

With a quick wave of his hand, the contents of the room decayed away into gray sand. “Kurogiri, portal the ceiling and floor.” The mist man followed his orders as All for One jostled Tomura roughly, snarling. “You can have it back when I’m done cleaning up your mess.” He tossed the young man into the dark room before closing the door to his screeching terror.

Unsalvageable. Untenable. Indefensible. So f*cking stupid. All For One roared and punched through the closest wooden table.

…

*Current Time*

Midoriya wanted to sigh as he walked yet another of his appointments out the front doors of Moonlit Industries. The moment the man was out of reception, Midoriya let the horrid, fake smile drop away. He rubbed his jaw as he walked back through the lobby. He was only supposed to have three meetings today. That was it. But the moment that people had caught wind that he was taking meetings again, it had been chaos.

He was attempting to catch up on the work that he had missed while being comatose, but now he was under a deluge of half-assed condolences and unneeded sympathies. Some of the offers had even held some merit, but Midoriya was damned if he had to deal with another day of this. One good night of sleep and the universe decides to spite him.

The rhythmic tapping of Midoriya's cane came to a halt at the door of the security office. He sighed before looking at his wrist. An old timepiece, attached with a thick leather strap, rested there. His mother had told him it was his father's, but considering the amount of work that he’d had to put into it, he wouldn’t put it past the damn thing to be pre-war. Wherever the hell his father had gotten it, it wasn’t his.

He had a good few minutes, he supposed, before his next meeting. Midoriya glanced up at the office door and, after another moment of hesitation, pushed inside. He paused, though, when he realized that the man he was looking for wasn’t in the room at all. Stepping back out, Midoriya made his way down the hall and to another door.

There, in the armory, Midoriya found Dabi field stripping the same rifle that he had been working on for the past several days. Quietly, Midoriya took a seat as he continued to watch. It was a calming thing for him, firearm maintenance. Years and years of cleaning his service weapon had left him with the ability to do it in his sleep, and going through the steps had helped him countless times. Dabi didn’t look calm, though. He looked like he was trying to defuse a bomb.

“You’ve decided on a caliber, then?”

“.338.” The brief response had Midoriya frowning.

“Dabi, we need to talk about this.”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to get in my way.”

“If I wanted to get in your way, I wouldn’t have offered you the rifle, the range, nor Athena’s assistance to make the shot.”

“No, instead you make me spend hours studying weapons, and want to talk about it.” Midoriya sat there in silence, staring the once-scarred man down. Dabi smacked the spring on the edge of the workbench in frustration. “What! What do you want, Midoriya?”

“You know, your brother’s not doing too well right now.” Dabi blinked at him in concern.

“I thought Natsuo was doing fine upstairs?”

“Not that brother, Dabi.” Midoriya’s voice was soft as he leaned into the cane between his legs. He saw the exact moment it registered which brother he’d meant. He watched as Dabi tensed, glancing away, back to the gun parts.

“I don’t care wh-” Midoriya stayed silent as Dabi seemed to fight with his own fist for a moment. Back and forth it went before slamming down on the table. “Not his fault.” Dabi hissed the words between his teeth. “Not his damn fault.”

“Still struggling with that?”

Dabi snorted. “Yeah, I’m still f*cking struggling with that.” Backing up, Dabi’s legs met the chair behind him, and he sagged into it wearily.

“Why haven’t you gone to see your mother yet?”

Dabi mumbled something low under his breath. Midoriya quirked a brow at him, even though he knew Dabi couldn’t see it. Another hissed f*ck.

“Must you always track what I’m doing?”

“I make sure to track everyone around me except Mei.”

“Why does she get the exemption?” He grumbled the words before his brain caught up with him. He threw his hand in the air before Midoriya could respond. “Yes, I already know that answer.”

“You don’t actually know where she’s at, do you?” Dabi smeared black across his forehead as he reached up and rubbed his face.

“No, I did not read the damn packet. Because that’s what you’re really asking.” A beat of silence and Midoriya spoke.

“Your brother came to U.A. refusing to use his fire because it was his father's quirk. You already know that, but now he hasn’t left the side of his classmate's hospital bed in days. Do you know why? Because she killed a man to save him after his ice tore the skin off her.” Dabi stiffened and put down the part he held.

“His ice did?” Midoriya grunted an affirmation. “How bad?”

“It's ugly. The ice went a quarter of the way up her legs. She shredded them to pieces saving him. Lucky that she didn’t bleed out with how close to ripping open an artery she was. Two more students came within inches of freezing to death in an ice cave, too.”

Dabi put his face in his hands and just breathed. That was… worse than he had been expecting. Shouto was already using only his ice now. With this- the thought trailed off and his head snapped up in horror. “How likely is it that he’s going to refuse to use his ice when training starts again?” Midoriya shook his head.

“I want to say unlikely, but knowing your family? Pretty damn likely.” Dabi snarled and grabbed another part.

“Yet another reason for the old bastard to die.” Midoriya tilted his head slightly. He didn’t mind the death of Endeavor. He’d been damn close before to being lit on fire by the man while on a mission. That didn’t mean he was without reservations..

“Oh? And how is that? You know that kind of logic is twisted.”

“It would keep others safe, and you know that.” Midoriya dipped his head.

“To a degree. But how does one quantify the good he’s done? It’s easy to tally up lives lost.” Dabi snarled at him.

“You are not f*cking defending him.” Midoriya sighed and shook his head.

“When have I ever defended Endeavor's actions? Do you know what a cascade effect is, Dabi?” The sudden shift in conversation threw the man for a loop, as if the room had just turned sideways on him.

“Uh, no. Physics thing, right?”

Midoriya gave him a small smile. “Pretty good education for never going to school.”

Dabi shrugged.“You pick up a few terms from proximity to you science types. What’s that got to do with this conversation?”

Midoriya gave him a look, as if telling him to wait for it. “A cascade effect is something inevitable or some unknown chain of events triggered by something affecting a system. You got out, Dabi. Your brothers and your sister didn’t.” Dabi gritted his teeth and took a breath.

“I nearly died to get out. If that weird ass scientist hadn’t picked me up, I wouldn’t have made it. I wasn’t even trying to get out.” The look on Midoriya’s face had Dabi sputtering. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“No, I believe you, I’m just concerned and wondering who the hell the scientist was.” Midoriya shrugged. “Irrelevant, I know. Dabi, why are you letting your father control your life?” That got a reaction from Dabi. Shock, surprise, fury, and disgust were all evident as he reared back.

“He does not control my life.”

“Doesn’t he? You’re out. He doesn’t even know you exist anymore. He mourned your loss. Yet, here you are, good job, salaried plus bonus, good prospects, paid time off. Hell, Mei and I are flexible. You could help your brothers and sister, and you could go meet your mother. You could find hobbies, things you enjoy, even meet someone, for gods’ sakes. Live a good life in spite of your father. Yet here you are, obsessing over how to kill him. You could all ruin him. You could kill him, but, just hear me out on this, when do you get to start enjoying your life, Dabi?”

Silence reigned for a long, long moment, the air heavy with tension. Dabi finally let out a low, dark chuckle. “Yeah. Yeah, you might have a point. But don’t you think you should take your own advice first before you foist it off?” Midoriya dipped his head slowly.

“Yes, well, you may have a point there.” Midoriya glanced at his watch and sighed before standing. “Just a thought, though, I like where I am, what I’m doing. Do you enjoy where you are?”

…

Midoriya met his next client at the door of Moonlit Industries with the same smile he had let drop off his face not too long before. The man was fairly respected in the business world, even if Midoriya knew about some of his late-night proclivities. He stood at almost six feet tall, his black dress shirt and pants matching. Not precisely the style he tended to have coming through the building, so there was at least variety in his day-to-day.

Midoriya gestured for the man to walk with him as they made pleasant enough small talk, the same general information that he’d shared with everyone who asked about the attack at the USJ. That he couldn’t comment on the state of the investigation or the beast that put him in this condition, but he wouldn’t deny that it was a hell of one. The two men stepped into Midoriya’s office with little fanfare. Midoriya sat behind his desk, closing some of the leftover holographic charts that he had been using with his previous client.

“Your office is very clean. I appreciate that fact.” Midoriya gave a smile.

“We do try our best. Keeping books dust free can be a nightmare, but it is worth the challenge.” Midoriya held up a mask from his desk drawer for the man to see. “Would you prefer that I wore one, as well?”

“Very considerate of you, but no. That shouldn’t be necessary.” Midoriya nodded his head, placing the mask back into its home in the drawer and shutting it.

“Well then, you’ve had this meeting slot reserved for a little while now. So, how can Moonlit Industries help you, Mr. Chisaki?”

Chapter 57: Chapter #56 | Deal With The Devil

Chapter Text

“Well then, you’ve had this meeting slot reserved for a little while now. So, how can Moonlit Industries help you, Mr. Chisaki?”

“What are your feelings on quirks, Mr. Midoriya?” Midoriya raised an eyebrow at the question, indulging the man with a small hum. Glancing up at the ceiling, he thought about this for a moment before responding neutrally.

“Torn. As I’m sure you’re well aware, I don’t have one. Years of mistreatment for that fact taints my view. Quirks as a whole can be good. For instance, the right quirk in a hospital can save a life that medical technology is incapable of at this time. That’s a positive, if ever I can think of one. There are, of course, other examples. Quirks can be quite useful.” Midoriya reached for his coffee and took a sip before continuing.

“That being said, they have upended our society quite a lot, don’t you think? 2089 to 2094, that’s five years we lost to the Third World War and four-hundred sixteen million lives lost with countless more ruined. Then 2174 to 2276, the Urban Wars turned the world upside down again. Our society has only recently stabilized enough to form a cohesive sense of governance again. One mistake, though, and we could slip right back into the Urbans. Hell, there are areas in which the Urbans may as well still be raging.” Midoriya placed his coffee mug down on its coaster before returning his eyes to the man across from him.

“The knowledge that we’ve lost, the time to develop both technologically and culturally, is the biggest loss in my eyes. I can, however, acknowledge how useful quirks are as tools. So, from an impartial viewpoint, I have to say that they have the potential to bring humanity to new heights, but our ability to act responsibly when using them is lacking and our overreliance on them is setting us up for disaster. That is, of course, to paraphrase a lot of my thoughts. Does that make sense?”

Chisaki blinked slowly at the young man in front of him, partially amazed. Midoriya spoke with a maturity he had hoped for but hadn’t expected from someone his age. “It does, but I have to say, your answer sounds rehearsed, almost political.”

Midoriya laughed, genuinely amused at the blunt return. “I have been asked the question before, and because I am quirkless, I have to be careful with how I phrase things, Mr. Chisaki. Everything that I said was true to my own thoughts, though.”

Chisaki tilted his head for a moment before dipping it, acknowledging the statement. “True enough. The public isn’t very forgiving of the pure’s existences. On a personal level, though?”

Midoriya felt his lips flatten, even as his brain registered the phrasing. Referencing the quirkless as pure. If that was the case, he’d have to handle this a little differently.

“I dislike them, Mr. Chisaki. I don’t wish people ill simply for possessing quirks, but I’ve had some,” Midoriya paused for a moment, “poor experiences involving quirk users. I have before entertained the thought of how much easier things would be without them. I’ve seen society function without them, and some part of me does miss that. But that is as much a pipe dream as any one an opium user would have. If it weren’t quirks, then it would be something else. Our complexion, our religion, our gender.”

Midoriya saw the sympathy in the other man's eyes and had to force his own not to narrow. He didn’t want pity. “I see. That is a common sentiment from what I have found. What if I could offer a solution?”

Midoriya thought about what else Mr. Chisaki was known for and did narrow his eyes this time. “Is this a business meeting between Mr. Chisaki and myself as CEOs, or is this a matter between Overhaul and another member of the underworld?”

Chisaki grinned behind his mask, but it never quite reached his eyes, and it wasn’t in his voice when he responded. “Can it not be both, Mr. Midoriya?”

Midoriya let his left hand rest in his lap while his right held his face aloft, elbow positioned casually on the desk, his fingers tapping an unsteady rhythm onto his cheek. “I suppose. Your Yakuza have been, let’s use the word respectful, with your drug sales. No children, no targeting vulnerables, no crimes so far that could truly be considered against humanity. So, I suppose it can be both. If you are here regarding Trigger, though, then you aren’t going to find what you are looking for.”

Chisaki shook his head. “No, the Trigger sales are simply a means to an end. What if I could offer you a solution to the quirked disease?”

“I’d tell you that dozens of disgraced scientists would tell me the same thing, and that none of them would be able to come up with a solution.”

After all, governments around the world had been working on such a thing since quirks had first appeared, and none of them had seen any semblance of a true solution. The closest so-called answer was the specialized restriction measures in places like Tarturus. There were prototypes, of course, that targeted the quirk factor, but they had to be hooked directly into a person and were too large and immobile to function for police use.

“Of course the diseased wouldn’t want to cure themselves. That is what I am here for today, Mr. Midoriya. Trigger sales are a means to fund our research. We have successfully synthesized a drug to remove quirks.” Midoriya felt a twinge in the back of his head and sat up a little straighter.

“You are telling me right now that you have successfully created a method to permanently remove quirks?”

“No.” Midoriya closed his eyes briefly, his breathing slow and purposeful. “But we have succeeded in doing so temporarily.” Midoriya’s chest shuddered, eyes snapping open wide to look at Chisaki. Even that was a serious breakthrough. “Quirks are a disease that needs to be eradicated quickly, before all of the pure humans are gone. Even I am blessed,” Chisaki sneered the word, “with this disease. It began as an attempt to cure myself, but I realized quickly that so much more could be done with it. We could save humanity.”

Midoriya weighed what to say next in his head. “I wouldn’t have expected to hear a leader of the remaining Yakuza repeating Humarises rhetoric.” A glint of something flicked across Chisaki’s gaze before it was gone.

“We have,” it was Chisaki’s turn to pause mid-sentence, “similar views. That’s all. They want the quirked dead. That is their cure.”

Midoriya mused quietly. He supposed that what he was saying could be true. “And what will you do with this cure once you have it? What are you requesting from us?”

Chisaki’s eyes gleamed. “We will remove quirks from the world, Mr. Midoriya. We shall cure this awful disease. No more abuse. No more hatred for something you are born with or without. We simply want your support. We just don’t have the equipment we need to make this final breakthrough.”

Idealistic, surely, but his response had only answered part of what Midoriya really needed to know. “How, Mr. Chisaki? How will you go about curing everyone? Subterfuge? Force? What is your plan to cure the world?” Chisaki gave Midoriya an explanation as to how such planning was necessary only after the final breakthrough was made. It sounded awful even to his own ears.

Midoriya sighed but put his hands up. “Look, Mr. Chisaki, even if I wanted all quirks to be gone, what I am hearing is potential at most. Such a thing could be incredibly useful, and using the right methods, that potential could easily become a reality. But right now, it’s just that. Potential. We cannot officially sponsor the creation of an anti-quirk serum developed by the Yakuza of all people.”

Chisaki dipped his head. He hadn’t expected it to be an easy sell. It would require convincing. “That being said, if you can show me two things, I’m certain we can do something for you unofficially.”

Chisaki’s head snapped up. He hadn’t expected even that much yet. “What would you need?”

“First, I need you to prove that what you’ve said regarding the temporary removal of quirks is accurate. I don’t expect it to work across the board yet. My expectations are that it’s working on emitters, yes?”

Chisaki shook his head slowly. “It also prevents mutation quirks from using their mutations.” Midoriya narrowed his eyes in thought as his lips firmed. Interfering with the quirk factor itself, perhaps.

“The second thing that I need you to bring me is a plan moving forward, something that I would expect from any of my own researchers when they put together a proposal. Actions, materials, needs, etcetera.”

“We can get that to you. So this means that you are going to support our endeavor?”

“If the plan you bring me is reasonable and you can prove your current results, we will discuss funding. The value of your research, if true, already speaks for itself.”

Chisaki tilted his head to the side, unreadable neutrality in his eyes, then nodded. “I believe that can be arranged.” Chisaki reached inside his pocket for a moment, bringing out a slim case. Dipping his fingers inside, he removed and placed something akin to a tranquilizer dart in front of Midoriya.

Both men stood, silently acknowledging the item left behind on the desk, before stepping out of the room. Only small talk was left as their business came to its conclusion. Midoriya kept a professional smile on his face as Chisaki left the building. The front door closed and sealed before that smile dropped into a fierce scowl.

“f*cking Yakuza.” Midoriya reached up to tap on the embedded communicator to alert Phoenix. “Get me Shadow, please, Phoenix.” Midoriya waited for the calm voice of their primary intelligence system to connect him to their ever-busy and clandestine A.I.

Yes? What do you require, Father? The smooth male voice flowed across the communicator.

“The man who just left Moonlit Industries, put a tail on him. Use the microdrones to bug the Yakuza base and dig through the records of every hero in his area. He isn’t telling us something, and I’m not working with someone like him without knowing what it is.”

Mother will have to create a few more of the drones. You know how much she hates making them.

“I’ll get her something for her headache. Just retask the drones, please.” Midoriya turned after receiving the acknowledgment and moved back to his office. He rolled the needle-tipped dart/bullet thing in between his fingers. Reaching over for his office phone, Midoriya called up to Biotechnical.

“Ishii here.” Midoriya continued to stare at the dart and couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling crawling up his spine.

“Mai, I’ve got a chemical dart down here that I need you to run an analysis on. I need to know its composition.” Another confirmation before Midoriya placed the phone back onto its receiver. Something didn’t add up here, and Midoriya didn’t like it.

…

“Welcome back to class, everyone.” Midoriya stood at the front of the classroom, letting his gaze roam over the students. Several of them looked excited to get back to training. Others, instead, looked apprehensive. Several hadn’t even shown up yet. Half of those were with their families, the other half holed up in their dorm rooms. All in all, well within Midoriya’s expectations after the USJ.

“Now, we have several things to discuss before we go outside. First, regarding the USJ,” the class visibly tensed, “no charges shall be brought against any of the students that had to take extreme actions during the events there. This was mentioned in the email that the school sent out, but I’m reiterating it here. All actions were found to be justified.”

Midoriya watched as that got varying reactions. Mina was looking around, obviously feeling guilty. Toga looked gleeful, concerning, Kaminari appeared distinctly sick. Tsunotori seemed ambivalent, equally concerning, and Tokoyami looked angry. The rest of the class was a mixture of Kaminari’s nausea and Mina’s guilt. Midoriya frowned before placing his notes down on the front podium.

“Look, this is something that each of you will cover with Hound Dog.” Midoriya took note of the surprise in the room. “Yes, Hound Dog. Both classes 1-A and 1-B are to have at least one mandatory meeting with the school psychologist. This shouldn’t come as a surprise with what happened, and while it isn’t mandatory once you have your license, it should be required any time a hero is forced to use lethal force.”

Reactions varied from distrust to uneasy acceptance at the thought of seeing a psychologist. Midoriya sighed. He could relate to the feeling, even if it was because he knew they wouldn’t be able to do anything for him.

“Look, the USJ was a f*cking sh*tshow, and I’ll acknowledge that. None of you should have been put in that kind of situation already. But the fact of the matter is that you were. Sometimes, the job of hero will mean that you have to kill, to protect someone, to save yourself, to end a threat that you wouldn’t be able to restrain. We all carry that guilt differently. We all process it differently. But, sometimes, without a choice, you will have to take action. I encourage all of you to speak with Hound Dog about this when you go to see him. If you can’t reconcile that after you have had the time to process, then please leave the hero course. This isn’t the career path for you.”

The class, except for two, looked uniformly sick. Midoriya decided to move on from that subject. “Now, onto the two main points.” The door opened suddenly enough to have the entire class looking over. There, stood in the doorway, was a man that was more bandage than person. Leaning on a cane of his own, he started to hobble into the room when Midoriya stuck a finger out.

“No, we are not doing this. Recovery Girl accepted your transfer back to U.A. only because you were stable and out of respect for your hatred of hospitals, but you sure as hell aren’t teaching in your condition. Get back to the medical ward now or, so help me, Aizawa, I will drug you and carry you back.”

The class stared in shock at the mummified form now identified as their teacher. They had known his injuries were bad, but it was another thing to see the man. The mummy grumbled something, red eyes glaring out between the bandages. The class couldn’t understand what was going on, but it seemed that Midoriya understood him just fine when he pulled a syringe from his school blazer and pointed it at the man.

“I told you, Aizawa. Recovery Girl and I barely managed to piece your orbitals and organs back together when you came here. You shouldn’t have your eyes open at all. Now turn around or I’ll f*cking do it.” The man seemed to accede as he turned and grumbled his way out of the room. Midoriya sighed, rubbing his eyes as he replaced the syringe in his jacket.

“You really shouldn’t curse like that, Midoriya.” The glare he sent Iida’s way was enough to freeze hell. After a moment, though, Midoriya sighed and closed his eyes.

“You are correct, of course. It’s a nasty little habit you pick up in the military, though. Now, onto the meat of today's news, against the faculty’s advisem*nt, the Sports Festival will still be continuing as planned.”

The class erupted in something between shock and excitement. Murmuring echoed around the room, and Midoriya let it go on for a few seconds before putting his hand up. “Yes, yes, very exciting.” Yaoyorozu raised her hand.

“Are we sure that it’s a good idea to hold the Sports Festival so soon after an event like this? It’s the perfect opportunity for villains to try and infiltrate the school.”

Midoriya shook his head in disgust. “No, and if it were up to me, we wouldn’t be having the Sports Festival. But it’s one of Japan’s biggest events. It is to us now what the Olympics used to be. Modern-day gladiators as far as I’m concerned.”

Shinso stuck his hand up next, and when Midoriya called on him, he raised a point that Midoriya had thought of himself. “Do those of us that plan to go underground have to participate?”

Midoriya nodded. “Unfortunately, it is mandatory for all of the hero course students to participate. You will only be doing this once a year, and it is the main method by which you’ll be scouted. So it’s important. That being said, I have brought this exact point up with Nedzu, and I have managed to get a few concessions. In light of what has happened, we’ll be picking hero names today. That is what you’ll be announced by, rather than your real names. You’ll also be allowed, if you plan on going underground, hoods and/or masks to obscure your facial features.”

“That’s not exactly ideal.” Shinso didn’t look pleased by the news, and Midoriya could feel that himself.

“Not in the slightest, but it’s the best I’ve got.” Midoriya flipped the page on his notes and started again after taking a second to read them.

“As for training, some of you are likely concerned that we’ve not worked with your quirks yet and we’ve only taught you the basics. That is going to change. We have a month until the Sports Festival, and during that time, we are going to work on your quirks up until a week before the festival, then we’re going to run group drills for that last week.”

Uraraka had visibly tensed during his summary. “Like the drills we started with?”

Midoriya nodded vaguely. “Not quite like that. You guys still need to be taught how to properly assess indoor environments, but there will be group scenarios like that. Let me make it clear, though, that it these will not be the same as All Might’s scenarios, understood? I want to train you, not risk your lives.” Midoriya received an affirmation from the class as the door slid open again. Midoriya was reaching for the syringe when he noticed Midnight and sighed, stepping away from the podium. “Midnight will be helping to choose your hero names as the expert in that area. Choose carefully.”

Midnight pouted and poked Midoriya. “You ruined my entrance.” Midoriya swatted the hand.

“You don’t need an entrance. Now, let's get to it so we can get back to training.”

Chapter 58: Chapter #57 | The Importance of Names

Chapter Text

Midoriya watched as the stacks of small square whiteboards made their way down the rows, along with the dry-erase markers that went with them. Midoriya stepped back to lean against the larger whiteboard at the front of the room.

“The names you pick now will be the names that the world comes to know you by! While you can change them, in most cases, what you choose now will stick with you after you become a pro!” Midoriya shook his head affably, despite his sheer exasperation.

“Well, she is correct. Where you end up may very well be driven by the image projected by the name that you choose. As Aizawa would put it, ‘Names and natures often agree.’ As such, take a few minutes to think amongst yourselves and your friend groups. Come up with something to represent not only yourself but what you want to do and where you want to be. That way, when you get there, you can fully embody your ideal.”

As the class broke up into groups, Midoriya raised an eyebrow at the look Midnight was giving him. The silent question had Midnight shrugging. “I wouldn’t have thought that you would put that much consideration into hero names. That’s all.”

Midoriya shook his head.“I’ve just had a lot of time to consider the meaning behind names Midnight. That’s all.”

“Right, well. Stop by the teachers' lounge later. I have a case that I want to talk about. Could use some information.”

Midoriya let a shallow grin onto his face as he thought about the irony of a limelight hero asking for his help. “Anything specific you can give me now?”

“Yeah, the group has squirrel tattoos on their arms.” Midnight watched with narrowed eyes as Midoriya subtly stiffened before relaxing right back to his original state.

“I’m sorry, Midnight, but I don’t think I’ll be able to help you with this matter.” Midnight wanted to push, but the look in his eyes was as cool as ice. Don’t press this right now, the look told her. The professor gave a subtle nod before moving to stand next to the teacher's assistant.

Twenty minutes passed by in relative silence before Midoriya glanced at the clock. “Alright, everyone, anyone who is ready to present their name can come up and present it. If you don’t have it right away, don’t worry. You all have until the sports festival to submit your names.”

Ashido bounced up to the front of the class first. Midoriya tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at the epithet. “Right, hey, call me the Alien Queen!”

Midnight threw her arms up in a big X. “You’re aiming for the image of that super-acidic horror monster? Big no. You’ll face discrimination for it.”

“I don’t know. I think she’s fine. She’s going to face discrimination, regardless, for how she looks.” Ashido shrugged. That wasn’t any kind of news to her, of course. She’d lived with that her whole life, anyway. “I do think you need to either lose the epithet or change it. You don’t need to announce that you are the ‘Heroine of Ridley.’ Those that get the reference will understand it. The rest can associate you with you. Do you have any alternatives planned?”

Ashido shrugged. “I guess I could go with Pinky.” The withering look that Midoriya sent Midnight said nothing that she wasn’t already thinking.

“Isn’t it still copyrighted?” Midnight tried weakly for an excuse, only to have Midoriya snort beside her.

“Midnight, nothing from Disney had been copyrighted since the company imploded during the Third World War.” The blank stares he received from half of 1-A had him wincing at the unintentionally archaic term. “Quirk Wars, guys.” A chorus of aahhhs had Midoriya relaxing again. “But no, no copyright issues.”

“Fine. Alien Queen it is!” Mina hopped in place before skipping back to her seat with a smile.

Asui came up next to the front of the room. “The Rainy Season Hero: Froppy.”

“Oh wow, that’s adorable! It’s great, it’s got a nice, friendly feel.”

Surprisingly, Midoriya agreed with Midnight. Even still, he felt the need to confirm. “You plan on becoming a rescue hero, right, Tsu?” The affirmation from the woman had Midoriya giving a soft smile. “Then it’ll work just fine. You’d want something different if you planned on being a mainline hero, but it’ll work in your favor during rescue operations, especially with kids.”

Midoriya glanced past Midnight to the windows and noticed Koda signing at him from outside the room. Could I speak with you? Midoriya inclined his head slightly, turning to Midnight and whispering that he’d be right back.

Midoriya stepped into the hallway, closing the door quietly and leaning back against it. “What did you need, Koda? Feeling any better? Would you like to come in?”

The shy young man winced at the idea and shook his head. He brought his hands up to sign but was shaking so badly that he had to clench his fists several times before he could make the hand gestures for words.

I was hoping to talk to Aizawa, but I- He wasn’t in his hospital room, and when I found him in the teachers' lounge, he just growled at me from the floor.

Midoriya sighed at that. Rather than deal with it himself, though, he did the next best thing. He sent a text message to Shuzenji, telling her that her patient had escaped and exactly where to find him. Well, with my daily morally neutral deed complete… “Koda, please forgive Aizawa. He isn’t… in the best condition right now. Now, if it’s something for Aizawa, I won’t pressure you, but I’m sure that I can help, as well, if you’re willing?”

Midoriya let the offer hang in the air as he watched his classmate clench his fists. Long enough had passed that Midoriya was wondering if Koda was simply too socially awkward to walk off when he finally unclenched his fists and nodded.

I want out of the hero course. Midoriya frowned at the statement. It wasn’t unexpected with what had occurred, just disappointing.

“Have you spoken with Hound Dog?” More hesitation before a small nod, and for the first time since he started the conversation, Koda’s hands weren’t shaking.

“Well, I would advise you not to make any big decisions right now. We are all coming off of a horrible situation. But if you have spoken with Hound Dog, and you are certain about this, I won’t try to stop you. For what it’s worth, I think you would have made an excellent rescue hero with the right training.”

Koda smiled wistfully at that before shaking his head. He disagreed. “Do you know what course you want to transfer to?” Hesitation this time before a slow no. “Then wait for me to finish with training today and we’ll head somewhere that I think will help you decide that.”

Koda’s reaction was immediate, a shaking of his head and panicked hand movements. Midoriya just gave a low chuckle before clapping a hand on Koda’s shoulder. “It’s not an impediment for me, Koda. I need to go check on the facility, anyway. I’m just moving it up in my schedule a little bit. Besides,” Midoriya smirked at him, “what course are we in? You weren’t going to get away without help, no matter which of us found out about this.”

Koda bowed, and Midoriya continued patting him on the shoulder as he politely rejected his thanks. Midoriya sent him on his way, and when Koda turned the corner, he let the smile drop. He really did think that Koda would have been a useful tool. Oh well, onto plan B.

Midoriya slid back into the room, moving beside Midnight once again to ask what he had missed. She rattled names off to him, and he offered his brief input. “Kirishima chose Red Riot.”

Midoriya quirked an eyebrow at the man, grinning. “That’s a big legacy to live up to. You’ll do just fine.” A fist and a cheer came from the man, his spirit not so easily broken.

“Uraraka went with Uravity.”

“Again, fine for a rescue hero.” The dangerous glint in Uraraka’s eyes, accompanied by a determined hand in fist motion, caught him off guard. Perhaps the name was going to catch a few villains off guard, as well.

“And Tsunotori went with Rocketti.” Midnight gave a double thumbs up to the American in the group.

“Personal meaning?” A nod from Tsunotori had Midoriya giving it a thumbs up, as well.

“Alright, does anyone else have their hero names right now?” Sero jumped up before coming to the front of the room to proudly display his name. Midnight gave it a tentative thumbs up while Midoriya gave a big NO.

“Why not?” Sero recoiled as if he’d been personally attacked. Midoriya took in a deep breath and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Sero, I say this in the nicest way that I possibly can, but do you, for the rest of your life, want to be associated with cellophane wrap?” Sero seemed to think about it for a long moment before it registered precisely what that would entail.

“Ah, uh, yeah, that could be a problem.” Sero returned to his seat. Iida took long, quick strides to the front of the room to replace him. In the same robotic fashion that Iida seemed to do everything, he slammed his board down on the podium, proudly announcing his own name.

“The Recipro Hero: Overdrive.” Midnight smiled at the name, giving it her approval.

“I’m sure that your family is very proud of you, Tenya.” Iida gave a strangled sound that Midoriya could only assume was his way of emoting embarrassment before chopping down.

“Please, Midnight. Keep matters professional within the class!” The accompanying chopping of Iida’s hands and the repeated scene had the class laughing and relaxing after the conversation that had started the class. Midnight had struggled to keep her blatant adoration for her close friend's brother out of classes for all of a week before she had begun teasing and embarrassing him. Even if Iida didn’t acknowledge it, the return to normalcy was comforting.

Jiro grinned, pushing Kaminari with her shoulder. “Go on, we both know you’re sticking with that.” The nervous jittering and occasional sparking from Kaminari had him grabbing onto Jiro’s shoulder like a lifeline.

“Fine, but you're coming with me.” Jiro’s eyes widened minutely, but quickly, she shrugged off her surprise and rolled her eyes.

“Come on, then.” Midoriya watched, amused, as Kaminari’s shock morphed into horror as she actually stood up and started herding him toward the front with her jacks. When he finally reached the podium, he sighed dramatically, flipping his board around for the class to see. Both Midnight and Midoriya’s eyebrows raised at what was written.

“The Electric Hero: Chargezuma.” Dead silence met the announcement, which proved worse for Kaminari’s jittering and sparks.

“Oi, don’t just stand there silently, say something.” Jiro’s overall tone, incisive as it was, startled the class and the professors from their surprise.

Midnight hummed, tilting her head to the side. “A portmanteau of the English word ‘charge’ and the Japanese word for ‘lightning,’ Inazuma. Good job.”

“More than that.” The softness in Midoriya’s voice caught much of the class off guard. “Your mother’s the lightning hero Inazuma, isn’t she?” Midnight blinked before coming to the same conclusion that Midoriya had.

Kaminari blushed delicately. Turning his head, he nodded all the same. “Then, it’s a damn good name.” The sudden clack of a second board startled most of the class, whose attention had been focused solely on Kaminari and Midoriya. Jiro’s board read simply, The Sound Hero: Hi-Fi.

“There we go, both our names. Can we sit down?” Jiro’s question was aimed at Midnight, as the professor in the room, but her eyes were on Midoriya’s. It was his subtle nod, rather than Midnight’s consent, that had Jiro herding Kaminari across the room again, the dodging jabs of her jacks effectively keeping his mind off of his name reveal and his sparking anxiety focused back on her.

Yaoyorozu stood next, striding to the front of the room. Her board clacked against the top of the podium as she set it down, drawing a neutral sounding hmm from the room. “Is- is something wrong with it?”

Midnight offered another noncommittal noise. “It’s not that there's anything wrong with it, per se. It’s creative…”

Midoriya shook his head with a hint of a smirk. “But there is a better word for that epithet. ‘The Heroine of All Creation.’ Come on, Momo. I saw what you had written down before Creati. It fit much better.” Yaoyorozu’s face flushed pink as she shook her head.

“I don’t know… it’s just that, it was a bit… arrogant? Improper?” Midoriya laughed, surprising several of the students closest. A lot of his mannerisms were bringing about that kind of reaction today, it seemed.

“Proper? Of all the things that you could be thinking of…” Midoriya trailed off, shaking his head as the laughter dispelled.

“Do not mix up arrogance and pride, Yaoyorozu Momo. Too much pride creates arrogance. Too little and it causes insecurities. A healthy amount creates confidence. By the end of this program, I want you all to be able to do three things. Have pride in your training. Have pride in the effort you put into a noble cause. Have pride in yourselves for walking a path so many others wouldn’t dare to even think of taking. Take on a name that will inspire you to be better, that you can have pride in once you live up to it.”

Yaoyorozu dipped her head. Sucking in a breath, she quietly wiped the name off with her sleeve and wrote down the original in its place. She smiled, small and fierce. “I'm the Heroine of All Creation: Genesis.”

Midnight smirked, reaching over to give her a firm thump on the back. “Damn right, you are.” Yaoyorozu’s confidence lasted only until she reached her seat, where she immediately turned pink and put her head in her hands. Oh well, it’s progress, Midoriya supposed.

Himiko bounced to the front of the room after Yaoyorozu, dragging what appeared to be a very exasperated and unwilling Shinso behind her.

“Bakeneko.” Himiko poked Shinso in the cheek with a toothy smile and he sighed, putting his board up, as well.

“And Maestro.” Where Himiko had been upbeat and excited, Shinso was the complete opposite, deadpan in every word and action. The chuckles from the rest of the class had Himiko beaming harder where Shinso simply scrunched his nose and sighed.

“Good names, but you two should work on epithets. It helps the name pop.” Midnight emphasized the word with a pop of her own lips, even as Himiko shook her head.

“Nah, Toshi and I are going underground. Doesn’t need to pop, needs to send a message.”

Midnight blinked in surprise. Instead of voicing her question to the two students, Midnight turned to Midoriya. “Your class already has two students that know they want to go underground?”

Midoriya shook his head. “Three, actually. Hagakure is still in the hospital. She wanted to come today, but since the only offer was for her to come in a wheelchair, she declined until she could walk.”

“Um, maybe four.” Midoriya turned towards Ojiro as he raised his hand. “I want to get a bit more experience before I decide where I would be most useful.” Midoriya nodded, acknowledging the man's plan.

“Maybe four.” If that surprised Midnight any more than it already had, she didn’t show it. Instead, she just hummed again.

“Anyway, let's see.” Midoriya ran through the class roster under his breath as he looked out at the class. “Shoji isn’t with us today. Neither are Hagakure or Koda. That leaves… Ojiro, have anything for us today?” Hesitation, clear in the man’s stiff, halting movements, had him shaking his head.

“Tokoyami?” Anger and indecision had him shaking his head no, as well. “Hmm. Todoroki?” Another no. Midoriya sighed. He hadn’t expected anything on that front, but it was still disappointing. “That’s alright, everyone, just make sure you come up with something before the Sports Festival. That leaves you and me, Tokage. Have anything?”

Tokage sat in enough frustration to have the feathers sprouting from the sides of her neck ruffling. She tapped on the board unevenly. “Sorry… No, I don-”

Her eyes widened, and suddenly she was writing at full speed. Quickly, she capped off the dry-erase marker and pushed her chair back, running up to the front of the room to slam her board down.

“It just came to me. I don't know why.” Midnight and Class 1-A stared at the strange word on the board with simple confusion. Troth.

“I’m afraid I don’t know the word, Tokage. I can’t really judge…” Midnight couldn’t help but trail off as she caught the look on Midoriya’s face from the corner of her eye. He looked like a corpse, ghastly pale with his face twisted in a mixture of shock and abject horror. “Midoriya?”

Midoriya blinked and a bit of pallor returned to his face, though he still appeared far too white. “Wh- how? Setsuna?”

Setsuna looked over to Midoriya, pausing.

“Svaklar tepoha wux nymuera mishun vi lex osri moxt ir?” Setsuna tilted her head for a moment, then shook it slowly.

“I don’t know where, Midoriya. It just came to me.” Midoriya's response was to blink in confusion, as if he hadn’t consciously meant to say what he had out loud. Whatever color that had been regained was lost again. Slowly, almost robotically, Midoriya walked up to Setsuna, pulled the dry-erase marker from her grasp and, after erasing the word Troth, wrote another word in its place.

Setsuna stared at it for a long moment before smiling and nodding. “I don’t know why, but I like that better. Let’s go with that.” Midoriya took a deep breath before taking Setsuna by the arm and leading her toward the door.

“Midoriya? What is-” Midoriya shook his head quickly in response to Midnight.

“I need to get a blood sample from Miss Tokage. We are going to head to the infirmary now.”

“Midoriya, that isn’t what-”

“Ah yes, right. It’s not a hero name, but Elysium. Elysium is my field name. Now, if you’ll excuse us, please.” Midoriya strowed quickly out the door with Tokage, the door falling shut behind them.

What little composure the class had was gone. They had never seen Midoriya make a face like that. Even when he had fought for their lives, he had never seemed so utterly blindsided. The class, instead, stared in utter confusion at the whiteboard left at the front of the room and the single word scrawled across it in fancy script. Arytiss.

…

Nedzu drummed his fingertips quietly against the fine china that he kept in his office. Not one sound was made as he sipped from the teacup, nor as he placed it down. Never once did the full-faced smile leave his expression. Never once did he take his eyes off the eyes of the hero sitting across from him.

Feathers fluffed and twitched as Nedzu continued to smile coldly, allowing his nails to click on the teacup as he once again took a sip and set the drink back down. Hawks breathed deeply, even as he crushed down the instinctual urge to get the hell away from the thing in front of him.

“I’ve come-”

“You’ve come-”

Hawks' eyes went wide as he silenced himself to allow the school president to speak, only to be met once again with that horrible silence, filled only by the ticking of the clock and the clicking of nails on china. Hawks attempted to speak once again as his nerves continued to fray.

“I’ve come to give you-”

“You’ve come to give me-”

Hawks’ pulse pounded in his neck. As he breathed, his feathers shuddered. Finally, after a long moment, as if he had grown bored with the game, Nedzu placed his teacup down one last time.

“You have come to give me the Hero Commission’s most recent demands. Do tell. Just what do they want?”

Hawks slowly reached down into his bag, pulling out and handing the school president a list, never once letting his eyes leave Nedzu’s. “It is a list of hero students that are to be removed from the hero course on the grounds tha-''

The laughter that bubbled up out of the diminutive creature had Hawks’ heart jumping in his chest. An awful shrieking cackle that tickled that avian part of his brain telling him to run, run, RUN.

As quickly as it began, in the span of a heartbeat, the laughter stopped, and once again, Nedzu locked eyes with the pro hero. No trace of laughter remained in his eyes, and his too-large, too-sharp smile held none of the humor that such laughter should have betrayed. Nothing was different from what it had been in the last half hour. But when Nedzu opened his mouth, he uttered two words.

“Get out.”

Hawks had never run so quickly in his life.

Chapter 59: Chapter #58 | A Ticking Clock

Chapter Text

Midoriya drummed his fingers against his lap as he waited for the class to arrive. Setsuna sat beside him, reading something or other on her phone. He could feel the impatience burning through him as his thoughts raced. It, of course, took time to sequence a person's genome. He’d had it practically down to an art before he had come back to Japan. Yet still, it would have taken him half a day to perform the deed. That was also before the added complication of sequencing quirks, and if what I suspect is true, the recombinant…

A finger poking him had Midoriya snapping from his thoughts, his hand finding the knife sheathed on his armor. He sucked in a deep breath, acknowledging the look of shock on Yaoyorozu’s face with a weary expression of his own. “Sorry. You startled me.” Midoriya let his hand slip away from the blade and back to his lap as he took in the woman. “I see you’ve chosen to forsake the armor plates.”

Yaoyorozu glanced down at her gear before frowning and giving a nod. “I kept the boots, but the armor plates weren’t quite working out how I wanted them to. Blocking creation in a few places. The visor worked really well, though. I requested a sleeker version from Hatsume.”

Midoriya gave a nod. Could just replace your eyes. “I was worried about that. It would be so much easier if I could put you all in the same armor as me and let you build on that, but it doesn’t work for most of your quirks.”

“I don’t think that aside from maybe Kiri, any of us could even wear your gear, Midori.”

The snort from Midoriya’s right had him glancing over and immediately regretting every life decision that had brought him to that point. Gack. “f*cking- what the hell are you wearing, Mina?” Standing in what appeared to be a new bodysuit and combat boots, Ashido sported a new color pattern that Midoriya thought might be the result of a nuclear reactor throwing up onto an outfit. “Why the hell does it have neon yellow now?”

Ashido gave a slow smirk as she shuffled closer, and Midoriya squinted as if needing sunglasses to protect his retinas from the eye-searing combination of colors assaulting his eyes. “I wanted to try out a new color pattern. Do you like it~” Ashido shuffled closer, only for Midoriya to throw up his hands to ward the woman off.

“Only in that it may as well be a weapon itself.” Midoriya glanced away to protect his eyes as much as to observe the gathering class. “No, obviously my armor wouldn’t work for everyone. I meant the undersuit. It’s a titanium kevlar nano weave with a gel layer for temperature regulation and pressurization in high-velocity impacts. As it is, we’ve had to personalize it for most of the quirks in class. Himiko and Setsuna’s had to be DNA bound to them.” If only it were so simple for Momo’s. “Tsu’s had to be rated as a dive suit, and Uraraka’s re-engineered for rapid acceleration and high to low-g environments.”

“Wait, wait.” Ashido looked around at her classmates in confusion. “Just how many of us are wearing these undersuits?” On top of the previously mentioned students, Ashido saw Yaoyorozu pull the edge of her crop top up to reveal a partial undersuit. Turning, she watched as Jiro, Ojiro, and Shinso also pulled down the collars of their hero gear to reveal the sleek black bodysuits that underpinned Midoriya’s own armor. Ashido puffed out her cheeks. “Oh, I don’t get offered the fancy bodysuit. I see how it is, Midoriya.”

The playful huff had Midoriya chuckling as he shook his head. “Mina, we first need to get you trained well enough that you don’t melt the fancy bodysuit. Then we have to come up with a ‘fancy bodysuit’ that works with whatever gear we give you and, you know, doesn’t melt.”

Midoriya glanced around the class, stretching as he pushed any other thoughts out of his mind. “Alright, everyone, gather up. I’ll tell you all what you’re doing, so listen for your groups and split up.”

Midoriya waited a moment for everyone's attention to focus on him and for the idle chatter to die down before he looked down at the class list. “Tsunotori, Group B, blunt horns, please. Focus on fight performance while splitting your attention between your quirk and the fight. Our goal here is that using both should be muscle memory.” Midoriya watched as the woman gave him a thumbs-up before stepping off to one side.

“Ashido, Group C. Stand by for a moment.” Mina puffed up her cheeks again but moved to sit down in the middle of the training field without complaint or question. They all knew what Midoriya’s Group C was. It meant that there was a conversation to be had before you got assigned your training.

“Asui, Group A. You’ve already been using your quirk so we’re going to get you started on some mobility training. You’ll be heading to Gym Theta after warmups for the new mobility course before coming back for more combat training.” A quick ribbit and Asui stepped to the side opposite Tsunotori.

“Iida, you’ve got a choice. Want combat integration training or endurance training today?”

“Could I try the mobility training?” Midoriya quirked an eyebrow but nodded and noted it down.

“You’re welcome to try, but since it’ll be tuned for a select few today, you're probably going to suffer with it until they come back for combat training.”

Iida chopped one of his arms through the air with a grin. “More of a challenge, then.” Midoriya shook his head, gesturing for him to join Asui.

“Uraraka, Group C. Stand by for a moment.” The woman clearly had no worries about grass stains as she buckled her legs and plonked down next to Ashido.

“Ojiro, you can try the mobility training if you’d like, or you can go with group B for more hand-to-hand training.”

Ojiro shrugged. “I’ll give the mobility course a go before coming back.” Midoriya nodded, noting down the decision.

“Kaminari, Group C. Stand by for a moment.” The man winced, his shoulders hunching. His body curled in on itself as he moved forward to join the others.. Ashido tugged on his arm when he walked over to their group, dragging him down to sit between herself and Uraraka before slinging her arm over his shoulder.

“Kirishima.”

“Woop!” Midoriya chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah. You remember what I taught you earlier about armor?”

Kirishima shot Midoriya a big grin and two thumbs up. “I do, Midoribro.”

Midoriya raised his eyebrow even as he checked his paperwork. “Two options for you today. Impact testing with some endurance training, or you can go with Group B and try out what I taught you.”

In lieu of a response, Kirishima stepped over to stand beside Tsunotori. Midoriya noted the choice before moving on. “Toga, Group B. No weapons yet, but you can use your quirk if you get the opening.” Toga’s eyes got large and sparkly as she jumped at Kirishima, fangs bared, before whispering something in his ear that had the man blushing, his quirk activating seemingly without thought.

“Do try to keep things PG outside of combat, please, Himiko.” The whine that Midoriya received in response had him huffing before moving on. “Jiro, you know how to use your quirk on people, but make sure to keep focus. Group B.”

Jiro threw her hands into the air as she yelled back at him. “It was one time.”

“Next up is Sero.”

“Mobility training?”

“For the first half of class.” Midoriya pointed down the field to where several of the physical education assistants were setting up a battery of projectiles. “Second half, you’ll be training precision over there.”

“Tokoyami, Group C. Stand by.” The man visibly stiffened, a frown barely tugging at his carefully neutral expression.

“Todoroki, Group B.” A chunk of the class blinked at the short orders. No explanation was forthcoming as to what Todoroki should focus on. Midoriya narrowed his eyes. He hid his grimace as the man silently dipped his head before trudging over to where the rest of Group B was standing. Midoriya very much wanted to take him aside now, but that would require relying on too many assumptions at this point. Todoroki hadn’t had the opportunity to show that he was still half functional. I need to know just how deep this rabbit hole goes first.

“Tokage. Group B. The moment you feel control slipping, you step out of the spar and get control back. Am I understood?” A toothy grin and a thumbs up had Setsuna sauntering over to Group B. Sliding up to her side, she bent to whisper something into Toga’s ear. Considering the sudden grin on Toga’s face, Midoriya thought it better that he didn’t know.

“Yaoyorozu, Group C. Stand by for a moment.”

“Shinso. Group B. Try various activation methods for your quirk. Compliments, insults, taunts, obscenities, bigotry, racism. Nothing’s off the table when it comes to getting a response in a fight. Just be careful if there are civilians around.” A thumbs up and he was moving across the field to join his group. Midoriya let out a breath, setting the clipboard down. “Alright, everyone, you’ve got your marching orders. Stretch out, do your warm-up run, and get to your positions.”

Midoriya rolled his back as he looked at the group still with him. He waited another moment before going through them each, one at a time. “Momo,” he started, “you don’t have to train with us for the next couple of weeks.”

“What? I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.” Yaoyorozu felt that little seed of anxiety begin to grow in her chest again. She knew that she hadn’t been as useful as the others during the USJ, and she wasn’t the best in the training so far but still, she wasn’t the-

Yaoyorozu blinked again as Midoriya thumped her on the forehead, an obvious frown marring his expression. She rubbed the spot with a wince and a choking feeling. “Stop that. I know that look quite well. The reason is that I don’t have the time to give you the attention that you need before the Sports Festival.”

Yaoyorozu felt herself suck in a breath just as another thump came, hitting her square and without mercy. “I said stop that. Momo, you have the potential to be the single most dangerous individual in the country and one of the most dangerous in the world. The fact of the matter is that if you hadn’t been born to two wildly influential and powerful parents, then the government would likely have taken you away from them not long after your quirk came in.”

Yaoyorozu’s eyes went wide, her mouth dropping open. “Wha- how? The government wouldn’t… no. They wouldn’t?” Midoriya sighed and shook his head.

“They damn well would, and I wouldn’t blame them at all.” Shock was the only reaction that he could see in the students standing around him. That is, before they began to clamor. Midoriya put his hand up and continued. “Momo, what would the results be if you decided one day to walk through a mall spewing Sarin from your skin?”

Yaoyorozu jerked back, looking appalled. “That would kill me, as well, Midoriya, and I don’t even know the chemical formula for… sarin…” She trailed off as her own brain processed the scenario almost against her will. She was a smart woman. She would rapidly reach the same conclusions he had.

“C4H10FO2P. You can find it and its structure through an internet search. That’s it. You could produce the atropine and pralidoxime chloride in yourself, even while you produced the gas.”

“I- I’d never.”

“And if you were ever pressed into a corner? How many kilograms of plutonium do you think your quirk could split before eradicating one of the seaboards, Momo?”

The woman looked ashen at the thought. “The energy required to do that would kill me, Midoriya.” He gave her a pitying look.

“And? A little study of how the bombs work? You could do it. If you are going to die, anyway? Why not take the bastards with you?” Yaoyorozu could feel the panic creeping up her airway, tightening it and her lungs at the very thought.

Midoriya took a deep breath, moving a hand to Yaoyorozu’s shoulder. “I’m not saying this because I or anyone else thinks that you would do such a thing, but because I need to impress upon you the threat that you present to the world, how they will view you after the events at the USJ. I need to know that you understand how utterly terrifyingly devastating your quirk has the potential to be so that you can train and never let it happen. You can create anything out of any material that you want. Any element. Hell, put on specialized equipment or make it and you could even replicate a vast majority of emitter quirks.”

“I- what. I- I knew that my quirk was good, but. For hero work? I was never sure that-”

“Momo, you have one of the best quirks for heroics that you could possibly hope for. With proper training and effort, you could influence the direction of the entire country, if not the world. The head of the chemistry department has a doctorate in inorganic chemistry. They’ve agreed to help you cram during the mornings leading up to the Sports Festival.”

“I- I’m honored, but what about actual training?”

“Due to the nature of your quirk, Momo, Snipe has agreed to give you a three-week crash course on weaponry and restraint. Everything from late medieval weaponry to modern firearms. With the understanding, of course, that any ammunition that you create is the same non-lethal ammunition that the third years are training on.”

“Holy sh*t. Holy sh*t, Momo!” Ashido's laugh turned into panic as Yaoyorozu’s legs gave out on her. The anxiety quickly developed into a full-blown panic attack as her own insecurities reared their heads.

“I- I can’t. It’s too much, I- I’m just going to let them down if I- The class down-” Midoriya kneeled down slowly as he pulled Yaoyorozu’s hand up in front of her eyes. His other hand tapped a slow rhythm on the back of the hand he held.

“Hey, focus on breathing. Focus on me now.” A long moment passed before some of the color returned to Yaoyorozu’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

“There is nothing to apologize for. If you feel uncomfortable with taking the opportunity, then you don’t have to. I apologize if I made you think that this was set in stone. I should have phrased all of this better. Momo, let me make something clear. Not one single being is perfect. No one expects you to be. I’ve made more mistakes in my life than I can count. The only thing that anyone here at U.A. asks of you is that you try your best. What that is, is purely up to you. No one else.”

“I- I think I’d like some time to think about this. To talk to the other two professors.” Midoriya gave her a small, comforting smile.

“Then do that. For now, go sit down somewhere a little more comfortable.” Ashido and Uraraka helped their classmate to her feet before she bowed stiffly and made her way off the training field.

“You should have gone about that better. What the hell was that about? You know she’d never hurt anyone, so why make her think like that? Sure, you might have a point, but right now? Seriously, Midoriya?” Midoriya dipped his head towards Uraraka’s admonishments, even if he personally disagreed.

She needed to have a healthy respect for what she could do, even if she would never do it. She was their leader, but he hadn’t accounted for her mentality. He hadn’t planned for Yaoyorozu’s anxiety to be that bad. That had been both a mistake and an oversight on his part. But if nothing else, it would certainly be a useful tool to bind her to her classmates and them to her.

“Uraraka, you get to join them at the mobility training. Focus on learning your movement with the new gear, especially the legs. When you are finished, try training your gravitic manipulation during full-speed sparring.” Uraraka stiffened, and Midoriya sighed. “Try not to overdo the training, okay? Even if you can physically take it, your brain needs to rest.”

“I understand.” She doesn’t. “I’ll cut back on the extra training and rest.” She won’t. Midoriya sighed again. “You know where I am if you need me.” Uraraka set off in a jog in the direction Group A had gone and left Midoriya shaking his head.

Reaching down, Midoriya grabbed a paper from his stack before handing it to Kaminari. “Powerloader has a battery of tests for you to do. They’ll give an idea of your limits and electrical performance. He also has several lessons he wants to go over with you today and tomorrow regarding the basics. It’s not a substitute for the classes we’ll need to get added to your schedule, but it should give you a starting point.”

“I didn’t mean to do it.”

Midoriya felt that one when he winced. How often had he heard those exact words?

“No one thinks you did, Kaminari. No one blames you, either. This is just so you can use your quirk safely. These lessons would have been provided to you regardless of what happened at the USJ.” Kaminari ducked his head and began making his way off with a small muttered thanks.

“And then there were two. Mina, it’ll be you and me today. You are going to learn to integrate your acid into the hand-to-hand we’ve been teaching you. With some luck, it’ll come naturally.” The sickened expression stated her reluctance plainly, even as Ashido sighed and cringed away.

“Must we?”

“We must. Don’t worry, you know your levels well now. This should be easy for you.” Ashido deflated before throwing her hands up and scrubbing them through her hair.

“Fine, fine.” Midoriya gave her a pained smile.

“I’ll meet you over there. I have something I need to talk to Tokoyami about real quick, alright?” Always the drama queen, Ashido threw her entire body into a slump as she groaned, but when she bounced back, it was with a rather forced smile. She could do this. She would.

Midoriya waited a long moment for the girl to find her pep again, watching her dance away with a renewed energy, before he turned to Tokoyami. “Powerloader and Mei have forwarded your request for the new support items.”

Tokoyami kept his facial expressions neutral as he challenged Midoriya with his gaze. “So? I can request what I’d like with my costume.”

“You can, yes.” Midoriya dragged the words out slowly and focused on the lack of expression or response that he was being given in return. Midoriya sighed and tried another approach. “How do you feel about this, Dark Shadow?”

That got a response from Tokoyami in the form of a snarl. “The demon doesn’t get input-”

“Toki is being a f*cking asshole-”

“You do not speak for me you-”

“And you don’t listen for me to-”

“Stop.” Midoriya threw both his hands up. He looked between Dark Shadow, snarling at Tokoyami from his abdomen, and took another look at the hostile expression on Tokoyami’s face before shaking his head in disappointment. “Tokoyami, until this gets sorted, you are both banned from participating in any form of training.”

Chapter 60: Chapter #59 | Smoke and Mirrors

Chapter Text

Koda was waiting for Midoriya when a majority of the class began stumbling through the front door to the dorms. Exhaustion marked them. Their faces were gaunt, their footsteps heavy. A few gave Koda a surprised glance before continuing. Others still barely even noticed the timid man standing off to the side. Some made their way towards their dorm rooms, some headed to the common area to collapse on the furniture there, and some headed for the dorm showers. They had forgone the facilities in the changing rooms, preferring instead the familiarity of their home for the next several years.

Midoriya was the last to trickle in, looking as energetic as he ever did, fueled by caffeine and spite as he was. Several burns were evident across his upper cheek, below his eyes. Midoriya's eyes roved across the room before stopping on Koda. A slight pulling of the skin on his cheeks was the only indication of a change in his expression. Several quick steps brought the imposing man to stand in front of him, towering over even Koda’s own height. Midoriya’s hand clamped down on Koda’s shoulder, freezing the instinctual urge he felt to tremble.

“Let me get what we’ll need from my room, Koda, and then we’ll go.”

Where?

“I have a facility that I believe may give you some answers as to what you would like to do. If it doesn’t, then it should at least rule a few things out for you.” Midoriya stepped away from Koda before disappearing up the stairs. Kaminari’s head popped up over the edge of a sofa. Koda blinked at him. A chunk of Kaminari’s blond hair had been singed black at the tips.

How did that happen?

Tired eyes blinked at Koda for a moment before Kaminari finally followed the man’s finger movements. Not understanding at first, he reached up to touch the part of his hair that Koda was pointing at. He groaned as his fingers touched the crunchy strands. He hadn’t realized that the explosion he’d caused had done anything but superficial damage to him. Why hadn’t anyone- Kaminari thought about that for a moment longer and realized that the type of people he had been surrounded by in the support studio wouldn’t have thought anything about a bit of burnt hair.

“Damn it. You going somewhere with Midoriya, Koda?”

Koda gave a short nod, but when he offered no additional context, Kaminari groaned again. “Have fun with that. You think Midoriya’d be fine with me tagging along? I wanted to pick his brain over some of the work that Powerloader sent me back with.”

“No, I don't particularly mind.” Both men jolted in place with Kaminari giving a slight yelp as they both turned their heads to the man standing beside them. Where had he come from, and how had his arrival eluded the both of them?

“Awesome, I’ll just-” Kaminari slid off the couch in what was likely supposed to be a graceful maneuver. What occurred, though, was a faceplant into the carpet as his legs gave out on him. A muffled groan came from the floor. Kaminari rolled his head onto its side to stare up at the two men watching him with varying levels of interest. “On second thought, go on without me.”

“Right. Well, we’ll be gone for a couple hours. Write down your questions so you don’t forget them and ask me when we return.” Midoriya turned to a nervous Koda, who was already gesturing at him.

A couple hours? Do we have to go? Midoriya furrowed his brow before shaking his head.

“Koda, you don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to. I’m simply offering you potential help. You don’t have to accept it if you’re unwilling.”

Koda stilled before dipping his head in seeming resignation. Alright. Let’s go.

…

The ride was silent, up until Midoriya’s motorcycle stopped in front of the headquarters for Moonlit Industries, mostly owing to Koda’s newfound fear of motorcycles and his inability to speak or use the hands that were wrapped around Midoriya.

Is this the facility?

Midoriya gave a low chuckle and shook his head. “We’re not there yet. Come with me.” The two made their way through the front door and into the lobby. Midoriya smiled as he accepted a clipboard of paperwork from the secretary at the front desk. He turned, letting the smile drop and the seriousness of the situation to show on his face. “Non-disclosure agreement. A number of the things you are going to see today are currently classified. Both I and the interested parties would like to keep it that way.”

Koda hesitated before swallowing and taking the paperwork with a shaky grip. He left Midoriya to speak with the front desk as he sat down and read through the tidy stack of papers. Most of it had already been filled out for him, so after a quick skim to verify that he wasn’t selling his firstborn child, Koda signed the agreement as needed. Midoriya turned as Koda approached him from behind.

Silently, he took the clipboard and handed it back to the man behind the desk. After another moment, and the sound of whirring machinery, Midoriya turned back to him with a copy of the paperwork he had just filled out. “For your own records, of course.”

Koda accepted this but blinked in confusion as he followed Midoriya back towards the parking lot. He had thought that they would be going deeper into the facility, not back outside. Instead of heading for the bike as Koda had expected, however, they headed for what appeared to be a hangar bay, tucked away behind the main building and what was almost certainly additional security. Stepping through a door located at the side of the bay, Koda was immediately assaulted by a level of noise that had him flinching and nearly backing back out on impulse.

Midoriya glanced back briefly at this, clicking his tongue. He had forgotten about the sheer amount of sound produced in the hangar bay, especially before a launch like this. He jogged over to one of the racks on the side of the building, coming back a moment later with a pair of headphones. Midoriya handed them over to Koda, watching as he slid them on with a grateful expression. Midoriya’s voice crackled through the speakers in them a moment later.

“Welcome to Hangar Bay One and home to Project Icarus.” Koda blinked, and for the first time, looked past Midoriya towards the large, very large, aircraft resting in the middle of the enormous space. Men swarmed around the sleek gray aircraft, at least 100 feet in length and a little over half of that in its width. The aircraft had two short wings with what appeared to be vertical engines.

“Beauty, isn’t she? Project Icarus started between Mei and me as an attempt to create a cargo aircraft capable of easily making round trips into space. We didn’t realize it at the time, but this may just be the project the government was the most interested in. We were contracted to create a new troop carrier for the JSDF, so we rolled a few ideas into one. Still working on getting it into orbit, though.” Midoriya gestured for Koda to follow him toward the back ramp of the aircraft.

“Heavy cargo transport and troop carrier, gunship and close air support. We don’t do things by halves here at Moonlit Industries, and the engineers got really into designing this bad girl. You should have seen their eyes when they got the gravitic data from Uraraka’s quirk. You would have thought that I had given them the keys to the kingdom.”

“Yo- you gave your classmate’s quirk readings to- to your scientists? Isn’t- isn’t that a violation?” Koda’s voice was soft in the microphone, enough so that Midoriya didn’t think Koda actually expected nor wanted Midoriya to hear it.

“Not at all. She signed off on the usage of the data when we were developing her heroics gear. Albeit, I don’t know if she had this in mind.” Midoriya laughed as he gestured to the aircraft they were approaching. “The engineers came up with something they’re calling a gravitic assist generator. It won’t do what Uraraka can do, but they are hopeful it can at least push our carry capacity on the aircraft up over 60 tons.”

The two stepped onto the ramp, and Koda was surprised to find that, all things considered, the interior of the aircraft wasn’t awful. He had always imagined military cargo planes to be all hard edges and uncomfortable benches. It’s interesting, Midoriya, but I could have already told you I don’t have any interest in being an engineer. As interesting as the job is, of course.

Midoriya quirked an eyebrow, chuckling. “No, I didn’t think you did. We’re just co-opting today’s test of this aircraft to get us where we need to be quickly.” Midoriya stepped up towards the co*ckpit, switching out his headphones for a new set as he leaned in to speak with the pilots.

“You guys about good to go?” One of the pilots glanced back, his eyes briefly flicking towards Midoriya and then back to the gauges in front of him, his helmet feeding information to him even as he ran through his preflight checks.

“Yeah, we’re just finishing up the f*ckin-” The pilot's head snapped to the side as his brain registered just who he had seen. His mouth slammed his mouth audibly. “S-sir!”

Midoriya gave the two of them a sardonic grin as he clapped the first on the shoulder. “No need for that, Lieutenant. The JSDF sent you guys over to be test pilots and give us honest feedback. You’re not here to kiss my ass. We about ready? How’s she treating you?”

The pilot opened his mouth for a moment, thought about it, then closed it again, shaking his head. “You are exactly how your employees described you.”

“I’ll take that as a good thing, Lieutenant.”

“She’s about ready for takeoff. The flight tests were good last time. Now the eggheads have supposedly made her faster, more maneuverable, and, god willing, fixed the fuel mixture this time. The targeting software has been updated so that the 70 millimeters should have their accuracy problem fixed. We’re supposed to drop you off before heading for the weapons tests. We’ll spin back around to pick you up after.”

“How’s she flying nowadays?”

“Like a drunken skywhale. But honestly? For this odd mixture of roles she’s got going, that’s pretty damn good. We’re done fueling, sir. Take a seat and we’ll get you where you’re going.”

Midoriya gave the pilot a couple of pats on the shoulder before returning the headset to its nook. Walking back, he took up the seat across from Koda. The man looked like he was going to be sick as he sat clenching the sides of his seat. “We’re clear for launch. It’ll take us about twenty minutes to get where we’re going from the last test's speed.”

Midoriya patted the frame of the plane beside him. “The fusion drives on this thing coupled up with the maneuvering thrusters were a nightmare for the programmers to get working. As it turns out, a lot of work goes into producing a VTOL aircraft. Luckily, they had plenty of help and a large budget to work out the kinks with.”

Is that supposed to be comforting? Koda grimaced, his throat bobbing uneasily as his hands formed the words.

“It means, Koda, that we are past the plane crashing stage. Besides that, every single part gets examined and tested between every aircraft test. Right now, this’ll be safer than most commercial flights.”

That tidbit of information isn’t going to help me on commercial flights. Midoriya gave an awkward shrug of his shoulders. He was trying. It wasn’t helping, but he was trying.

The takeoff was smooth enough to have Koda relaxing a bit in his seat. His eyes naturally tracked to the windscreen in front of the pilot's nook at the front of the aircraft. He tensed back up when he saw the sky.

…

He stumbled off the aircraft paler than he had started. Midoriya patted him on the back conciliatorily. Getting them to their destination in six minutes, the pilots had surpassed his expectations and had broken their previous speed record with a blistering 960 miles per hour.

The hooping and laughter as they broke the sound barrier had been gleeful for Midoriya and the pilots, both. It had not been glee that Koda had felt as, in his mind, the only sane individual on that plane. The shaking had nearly made him catatonic.

Once he managed to catch his breath, Midoriya led him away from the landing pad and down a paved path toward the front doors of a sleek, modernist office. Koda couldn’t help but marvel at all of the nature around them as they approached the building. Bird song and the distant call of wildlife, all of it sounding like a busy city vibrant and full of life to Koda’s ears. Midoriya scanned his badge at the front door before sticking his hand on a pad to be scanned.

Where are we, Midoriya?

“This used to be known as the island of Miyake. It was abandoned during the Urban Wars. There are a series of these small islands out here that the government was happy to sell the land on if it meant something was being done with it. They don’t have the time, budget, nor a f*ck to give about the land out here.”

Okay, why do you have a facility on an abandoned island off the east coast?

The door beeped and Midoriya gestured Koda inside the building. “This facility has become our head of operations for a number of our biological sciences. The ecosystem here was as dead as the island when we first got here, but we’ve spent the last couple of years terraforming it back to a healthy state. Somewhere over in that direction,” Midoriya made a gesture with his hand, “we have a variety of carefully maintained gardens, hydroponics, farms, etcetera.”

Midoriya made another gesture. “That way, we mostly have nature preserves and simulated biomes. We have just about every environment that you could visit from Mercury to Pluto. Of course, some of those are dangerous and the proper precautions are being taken, but tests are still useful in those areas.” The pair stopped at a set of double doors, and Midoriya made a final gesture. “That way, we have genetics testing areas and labs. Diseases, animals, the literal creation of life, anything you could potentially do with recombinant DNA. Through here,” Midoriya pointed to the double doors, “we have one of our control centers for the island. We monitor everything and track situations as they develop.”

Koda stopped for a long moment, saying nothing. After a long pause, his hands came up as if to make words. He paused again, lowering them. The silence stretched as Koda warred with something inside himself before his expression finally settled, his mouth opening as if to speak.

“Why did you bring me here, Midoriya?”

Midoriya took in the set of Koda’s features with a tilt of his head. He had a few options here, and he pondered for a moment on them. “You are leaving the hero course. It’s no secret that I’ve looked at the student files before, and you had a biology degree as your backup. This place should give you a clearer idea of precisely what you want to do.”

Koda narrowed his eyes at Midoriya. “That’s not all of it, is it? By your own admission, this place, or at least parts of it, are cla- classified.” Even with whatever courage Koda seemed to have dug up, he still struggled to swallow the classified nature of Midoriya’s work. “Just because I’m in the hero course, as well, you wouldn’t have brought me here. You- you’re logical in class, and something about this doesn’t add up. You barely know me. I could- I could be the type to break an NDA.”

Midoriya smiled and shook his head. “No, no you wouldn’t be able to break the NDA, I’m afraid. The government itself wouldn’t allow that. Besides, there is a certain quality of students that are selected for the hero course at U.A. There is a reason it’s one of the top three heroics colleges in the world. You wouldn’t violate the NDA unless there were very good reasons to do so.”

“An- and the reason you’re helping me?” Koda’s voice had grown softer after Midoriya’s response. He hadn’t lost his confidence, but Midoriya’s easy answer had made him cringe at his own question.

“Well, you are correct. There is more to it than you simply being a heroics student.” Koda’s head snapped up. “It’s one part heroics, as it is simply a good thing to do to help. It is one part selfish altruism, though. You are in trouble, I can help, that makes me feel good. Maybe a bit of reciprocal altruism, as well.” Koda gritted his teeth. Pity wasn’t something he’d wanted when he’d gone to Midoriya.

“But mostly, it’s the fact that you have potential, Koda. You are intelligent, going by the scores on your entrance exam. It was tailored for the natural sciences, and you still scored very high. There are dozens of jobs and career paths even just within biology. You could be a ranger here on this island. A biological technician, research assistant, agricultural scientist, environmental scientist, wetland scientist, ecologist, or geneticist. I could stand here and list job titles all day, but I’d wager on you going into the veterinary sciences, and with your quirk? You’d be damn good at it, if you can stomach it. Pretty much any job you choose, we could use you here.”

Midoriya let an easy smirk slip onto his face. “So yes, it is a bit selfish in nature. I’d prefer to be the first one to offer you a position. And if you maybe form some kind of attachment to the people and this place in the process? That’s even better.”

Koda stared at the floor for a long moment, working through what Midoriya had told him and looking for anything that he might have left out. There were a few places Koda thought that Midoriya might have done just that, but it wasn’t a pressing issue. Koda could at least trust that Midoriya wanted to use him as an employee. For his own goals, he could live with a little nepotism. Finally, he raised his hands to speak for him.

Do you pay well? Midoriya blinked at the question before answering in the affirmative.

I’ll be using you as much as you’ll be using me, then. I can live with that. Koda turned towards the doors and pushed his way inside. Outside, Midoriya let a low laugh rumble in his chest, a Cheshire grin splitting his face.

Oh, he’ll be very useful.

Chapter 61: Chapter #60 | Burns on the Soul

Chapter Text

Koda stepped shakily off the bike as Midoriya slowed to a stop in the parking lot. He was quivering and pale, his skin clammy with the stress of dealing with riding on the back of the motorcycle. Shaking hands clawed the borrowed helmet off of his head as he fought to keep down the stress-induced bile that was rising up his throat. Two motorcycle rides and two trips across the ocean had been enough for him for quite a while.

Koda turned, ready to hand the helmet back to Midoriya and tell him as much when he caught the look on his face, stoic and flat. Koda followed his gaze to the edge of the lot where, cast in the shadows, he could just make out the figures of two people heading towards them. One taller individual and one shorter. An adult and a child maybe? Albeit, Koda thought, there was just as much potential for a short quirk user as a child.

Light cast dimly from the lamp above, and it wasn’t but a moment before the president of their school came into view, along with the professor of the third-year hero students. Koda relaxed his hands. They had come up instinctively when he’d first seen the two figures in the dark, but of all people, Nedzu certainly wasn’t a threat to him.

A firm hand grasped his shoulder, and he turned his head to Midoriya. A soft smile, one which set off alarms in his head, graced Midoriya’s face. There wasn’t anything wrong with the smile, but something, something, was warning him that it wasn’t right, either. The hairs on Koda’s arms stood up, even as Midoriya spoke in a voice devoid of threat.

“I think it would be best if you headed back without me, Koda. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of your course transfer. Just get me the paperwork that’s needed.” Koda gave a small nod before handing the helmet back to Midoriya and turning, hurrying quickly in the direction of the dorm.

The smile dropped from Midoriya’s face, and he rubbed his jaw. “Well, I can’t say it’s pleasant news, then, if you two were waiting for us here in the parking lot.” Midoriya had received the message while he’d still been in the air. Not uncommon, really, but the urgency which had accompanied the message was odd.

Nedzu shook his head as he walked forward. Each step was accompanied by the soft click of claws against hard asphalt. He had evidently forgone the strange digitigrade booties today, leaving his feet in contact with the hard surface of the parking lot.

“I am afraid not, Midoriya. Though, when is it ever good news? I believe I requested your presence several hours ago.”

“You did. I had prior engagements. Koda will be leaving the hero course shortly.” Nedzu tilted his head, a wolfish smile stretching across his muzzle.

“Oh? What course is he thinking of transferring to?”

Midoriya waved his hand in a sort of ‘neither here nor there’ gesture. “Likely something in a biology field.”

“Hmm.” Nedzu hummed noncommittally. “I’ll have to speak with him. I could use a translator for the tunnels below.”

Midoriya clicked his tongue and huffed. “There is no reason for any student to have contact with the things down there.”

Nedzu tutted at Midoriya, shaking a clawed digit. “They are not things, they are people. Anyway, we always have one or two students every year who wander into the tunnels and never return. I do wish they would stop dying or joining the cults, though.”

Midoriya shook his head, attempting to dispel the images in his head of the bullsh*t living under their feet. “What precisely was the news you wanted to give me, Nedzu?”

“Ah! Yes,” with only some minor prompting on Midoriya’s part, Nedzu finally produced a list from the pocket of his tailored suit jacket. He handed the list over with a smile. “I believe that you’ll find this as amusing as I have.”

Midoriya looked at the list for a long moment before flicking his eyes up to the chimera. Silently, he raised an eyebrow. “Am I supposed to pull out a blacklight or something? All I’m seeing is a mix of Class A and B’s names here.”

“Oooh yes, a blacklight sounds like a wonderful idea, Midoriya. Let us try that. Perhaps you’ll be able to find another funny joke.” Midoriya threw his hands in the air, one fist still clutched around the paper as he pantomimed his search for a blacklight.

“Oh, well. Sorry, Nedzu, fresh out of blacklights here. What the hell am I looking at?” Nedzu grinned sharply.

“Oh, I do love watching you humans react. It’s a list dropped off by the commission, fresh off their printers. Evidently, after the USJ and the mixed public responses to it, the HPSC believes that they have a say in which students we keep and which we let go.”

Midoriya offered only a small, derisive snort in response.. “The police have already investigated and the tribunal cleared them of all wrong, so I’m assuming that you told them to blow it out their asses.”

Nedzu hummed. “Not quite in those words, but Hawks did run from the building like a child with its tail tucked between its legs.”

“That- that’s not the saying. You know what, never mind. So, why are you sharing this piece of information with me? This is a moot point, as nothing will come of it.”

“Ah!” Nedzu raised his finger again with a knowing smirk. “Well, if you had been in my office like you were supposed to, then you would know. We have another set of visitors for this year's first-year sports festival.”

“And who’s that?” Midoriya rubbed his face, feeling the length of the day beginning to wear on his nerves.

“Several high-level cabinet members that you may be familiar with.”

Midoriya groaned. “Why?”

“My guess? They are interested in seeing the students that survived an attack of such magnitude so early in their careers.”

“Great. Great, anything else I should know?”

“I invited the Emperor.”

“f*cking why?!”

Nedzu shrugged. “The royal family managed to claw back a bit of power and respect during the Urban Wars. More of an obligatory invitation that they receive every year. They’ve never shown up before, so take that as you will. We’ll also be having a media conference at ten in the morning that you’ll be required to attend.”

Midoriya blinked. “Why on earth would I do that?”

“Well, you are the main culprit of the USJ killings, my personal student, and the number one choice to be removed on the list, after all.”

Midoriya stared at the rat in deadpan. “Great, that's three nearly believable reasons. What’s the real reason?”

“Your class professor is still injured and self-medicating, so I don’t want to deal with him. Thus, the job falls on you. Besides that, you are just so good with the media.” The last was said with enough glee to have Midoriya scowling outright.

“I’ve ejected enough of them from our own media conferences. They know not to behave like baboons, or they won’t get anything at all before their time’s up. Those reporters write articles in business, science, and engineering. They don’t intersect with the heroics world, nor its own reporters. Do you have any idea how many of them I’d have to throw out before they began to civilize?”

“Enough that it would be irrelevant?”

Midoriya deadpanned again. “Enough that it would be irrelevant.”

A paw patted Midoriya’s arm as Nedzu smiled up at him. “Too bad. Unfortunately for you, I still expect you there. In fact, I would advise getting there at least a few hours early to coordinate with our media liaison, Jun-yeong.”

“You have a Korean media liaison?”

“You have a crispy human torch for a security chief.”

“I have a crispy Japanese human torch for a security chief, thank you. I don’t have a choice in this, do I?”

“Sure you do.” Midoriya raised an eyebrow at that.. “I’ll just get one of the two class presidents to take your place. I’m sure the Yaoyorozu heiress should be fine in front of a camera. After all, isn’t that a skill that her family should have taught her?”

Midoriya allowed the image of Yaoyorozu in front of those reporters into his head for one moment. Stuttering, stumbling, questioned on material that she hadn’t the first clue about. She’d get eaten alive. A moment was all Midoriya needed before he was hissing out the air between his teeth. “Fine.”

“That’s what I like to hear, Midoriya!”

Midoriya turned to Snipe. The silent man had yet to say a single word from behind his trademark mask. “You don’t have a single word for this conversation?”

“Partner, ah don’ get paid enough to worry about any of that.”

“You’re a hero that has spoken with the media constantly. You have ties to the government.”

“An for once, it wasn’t I that shot someone. Something I will continue to be infinitely grateful for.”

“Of course, you will.”

…

It was a long, slow stroll back to the dorms as Midoriya thought about his next steps. Which questions would be selected by the major news outlets? Which would be circulated by the tabloids, regardless of the answers given? Where and how could they manipulate the flow of information? Change the equation, and paint the students as desperate, terrified children, rather than the bloodthirsty adults that the commission wanted them to be viewed as.

Midoriya stepped through the doors to the dorm, contemplating how he was going to get around the commission to get the class their hero licenses. He was tallying bribes and favors in his head when his eyes caught on the facedown form of Kaminari on the floor, lying completely still.

Midoriya’s eyes flicked to the corner of his vision, mentally calling up a digital clock, before surveying the time. It wasn’t quite late enough for everyone to be asleep, and it certainly didn’t explain why Kaminari was still on the floor. Midoriya poked his side with the tip of his shoe.

“That can’t be comfortable. Why are you still on the floor?”

As it turned out, Kaminari was not asleep, passed out, or anything else that might have especially concerned Midoriya. Instead, he’d simply been staring at the ceiling for hours, by Midoriya’s own estimation.

“Surprisingly comfortable when you stop thinking about it.”

“You know you’re going to feel this in the morning, right?”

“Probably. Maybe not. I’m good with that.”

Midoriya pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. In a quick motion, he had Kaminari hoisted up and over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. “Unfortunately, I’m looking for a list of people, and you’re on it. So, you’re coming with me.” Midoriya saw a thumbs-up in his peripheral and simply shook his head.

Pulling out the list that Nedzu had given him, Midoriya swept up the floors, one by one, knocking on doors and requesting that the people from the paper meet him downstairs. When he’d finally made his way back downstairs, he counted heads. Tsunotori, Uraraka, Toga, Tokoyami, holding what looked suspiciously like a lamp, and Tokage. With Kaminari on his shoulders, he counted six. Hagakure was still in the hospital, so he’d stop by before the press briefing in the morning to inform her.

“Alright, guys, over to the 1-B dorms. I need a few of them, too.”

“Uh, why are you carrying Kaminari?” Midoriya flicked his eyes over to Uraraka, who was pointing at the man in question with bandaged and wrapped hands. “Isn’t he heavy?”

“Hardly feel him. As for why, I found him in a fugue state on the floor, and since I have an unreasonable amount of work to do tonight, this was faster. I’ll slap him back to the realm of the living when we get where we’re going.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Kaminari’s nervous chuckle sounded from behind Midoriya.

“We’ll find out, won’t we?” His classmates didn’t care for Midoriya’s smile.

…

The sister class dormitory was marginally more alive than their own. The difference was unfortunately so marginal, however, that it amounted to just a small group watching the news, a decision that Midoriya supposed was just as likely to make the situation worse as it was to help them.

Rather than disturb them, as no one that he was looking for was among them, Midoriya instead checked the dorm floorplan. Finding his target, Midoriya told the rest of the class to give him a moment and made for the stairs. Midoriya had to double back when it occurred to him that he was still carrying Kaminari.

A brief knock on the door and a couple moments were all it took for the quick snick of locks disengaging to come from the other side. Kendo opened the door and blinked for a second when her vision came in line with Midoriya’s chest. Glancing up, and recognizing who it was at her door, she gave a tired smile.

“What can I do for you, Midoriya?”

“I’ve got a few of 1-A with me. Could you get Komori, Kuroiro, Kamakiri, Shiozaki, Bondo, and Monoma for me?”

Kendo blinked again before scratching her head. “Sure, I can try. I doubt Monoma’s going to come willingly, though. He’s not, uh, he’s not doing great. What’s this about?”

“Nedzu gave me some news to pass along, as per usual.”

Kendo quirked an eyebrow. “He can’t come down here to pass it along himself?”

Midoriya’s expression fell flat. “Trust me. You really, really, don’t want that. Is Monoma in his room?”

“Should be. You want to deal with him, be my guest. I’ve tried everything at this point to get him out of that room. He won’t come out unless it’s absolutely imperative.”

This time, when Midoriya knocked, he received no response. Not that he figured it would be easy, if it were as bad as Kendo had said. Midoriya weighed his options for a moment before settling on the straightforward approach. He raised his voice. “Monoma, you can either open this door so I can talk to you, or I can break the door in. We’re still gonna talk. You just won’t have a door for the night.”

Midoriya glanced at the door handle before patting the small holder of lockpicking tools in his back pocket. He could pick the mechanical lock and bypass the electronic, of course. Let himself in quietly without actually taking the door off its hinges. Though, I did already say that I would break the door in, so-

Luckily for both of them, the thought skidded to a stop as the locks clicked open and Monoma’s face peaked out. “Go away, Midoriya. I don’t have anything to say to you. I’m sorry.”

Midoriya took a moment to really look at the man, and oh, if he didn’t look like sh*t. Baggy eyes, sallow skin, a dead, thousand-yard stare that Midoriya had seen far, far too many times in the trenches. Eyes that Midoriya had seen looking back in his mirror too many times to count.

That’s why, when Monoma attempted to close the door, Midoriya wedged his shoe neatly into the crack. Why, when Monoma grabbed ahold of the door, grumbling heatedly, Midoriya’s eyes narrowed onto Monoma’s hand, his words falling on deaf ears.

Midoriya pushed into the room,shoving Monoma back as he closed the door behind himself. “When was the last time you changed the bandages on your hand?” Monoma muttered something at him, too low and irritable for him to fully make out the words. He understood the sentiment, though. “Yes, I’m aware that I’m in your space, making demands of you. Now answer the question.”

“This morning.” Midoriya sighed before pulling Monoma over to his desk chair and sitting him down in it. A quick glance at the desk was all Midoriya needed to locate the sparse medical supplies that he had been using, including the unopened jar of petroleum jelly that he had been sent home with.

Midoriya sat down on the corner of the desk, dragging Monoma’s hand up so he could examine the bandaging. It bothered him just how little care both classes showed for themselves. Throw a dying person in front of them and they act without hesitation, but dare to suggest they do the same for themselves and it’s a damned carnival. Wordlessly, Midoriya located a pair of nitrile gloves in the first aid kit and slipped them on.

“Don’t wrap the bandages this tightly next time,” Midoriya began as he quickly unwound the layers, working despite the protests of the skin underneath. “You don’t want pressure on burn wounds.” He hissed through his teeth once the bandages came off fully. Burn scars were never pretty, and the extensive damage that Monoma had done to his palm with Ashido’s acid was a nightmare for even Recovery Girl and her team to repair.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” The self-derision in Monoma’s tone was thick, and even as Midoriya glanced up, Monoma looked away.

“I’d say it looks pretty damn heroic to me.” Monoma’s head snapped back towards Midoriya, his expression bewildered. Midoriya clicked his tongue as he pulled fibers from the wound. “Do you want this to get infected, Monoma? Where is the petrolatum gauze you were given? You need to use gauze that won’t stick to the wound. The petroleum jelly was also supposed to go on the burn. I know this was all explained to you.”

“You called the burn heroic. I killed someone, Midoriya.” Incredulous anger was all Monoma could muster.

Midoriya froze, his finger smeared with jelly and frozen halfway to Monoma’s skin. Gathering himself, he shrugged the feeling off and continued. “I’ve killed many people, Monoma. Many people, many methods, most evil, some good, a lot of them innocent of everything except following orders. Any injury you get, any scar you get, while protecting the life of another is one to be proud of.”

“Even if it means that you took a life to do it?” Midoriya closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath, clenching his fist and inadvertently smearing the jelly across the palm of his gloved hand.

“Taking a life is not an easy thing. Every time you do it, a little piece of you chips away. It hurts, it haunts, it rips away at you, and it should. For heroes, the day that it’s easy to take a life is the day you need to retire. Some heroes never have to, and in an ideal world, that’s how it would be all the time. Not everyone is that lucky. Sometimes, that is the choice a hero has to make.”

“How? How can you function so well like this? I only killed one person, and I can’t stop replaying it in my head. Again, and again, and again, I see their face. See what I did. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t- but you-” Monoma's voice cracked painfully, the air in his lungs choking and wheezing its way out past Monoma’s guilt-ridden panic Midoriya didn’t need to look up from the burns to know what he’d see. He knew what Monoma was seeing in his head all too well. He hadn’t had time to go over the footage from the USJ, but he had seen photos of the plaza where he had fought. He had seen the bodies.

“Monoma, you have the right to think about the life you saved.” Monoma froze at the expression on Midoriya’s face. Midoriya had dropped his mask. His features were strained, while his eyes, those dead, dead eyes-

“What happened is awful, but the villains were there to kill you. What would have happened to Ashido if you had failed? It didn’t matter what quirks you had or didn’t. It doesn’t matter that you got injured. It doesn’t matter that the villain ended up dead. Did you have any other way to defend yourself in that moment? Any other way that you can say for certain would have saved your life and left the villain alive? Had you not done what you did, you would be dead. She would be dead. You did what you had to do in order to protect a life. That is not something anyone should fault you for, most of all yourself.”

A moment, and then, “Does the screaming ever stop?”

Midoriya felt his guts being dragged out through his throat as he swallowed as the images of men on fire sparked to life in front of his eyes. Images of soldiers, gleeful as they hosed their enemy in burning fluids. Their screams echoed in his ears as much as they did in his dreams, as much as they echoed in his head when he closed his eyes and tried not to hear it.

“No,” Midoriya’s voice broke, and he swallowed again before continuing. “No, but it does get easier to bear.”

Chapter 62: Chapter #61 | Burden of the Exiled

Chapter Text

Midoriya’s steps down the stairs were heavy with how much his body craved sleep. Sleep that wouldn’t be terribly forthcoming that night. Monoma’s steps behind him were just as heavy. The two stepped into the common area of Class B’s dorm, which was thankfully devoid of anyone except the people he was hoping to speak with.

Midoriya counted them in his head. Twelve students, six from his own class, five—six now with Monoma joining them—from their sister class, sat around in varying states of dishevelment. He would have to have this conversation with their seventh, Hagakure, in the hospital in the morning. Slowly, as he met each of their eyes with his own, he realized that the students in front of him wore expressions of concern.

What expression am I wearing? Midoriya reached up and touched his cheek briefly before using that hand to crack his neck. He’d have to hide that motion if he wanted to keep their concerns minimal. Letting himself slip like that had been a mistake. A small smile graced his face, practiced, with the beginnings of a grimace in the corners of his mouth.

“Thank you for gathering everyone up, Kendo. If you would excuse us, though, the news should be directed to them before anyone else.” Midoriya spoke softly, his tone apologetic, but noted the easy dismissal on her face.

“It’s fine, Midoriya.” He turned to Monoma, the last person he’d expected to speak tonight. “It’s fine for Kendo to listen.”

Midoriya glanced briefly over at the students of 1-A in silent question. He needn’t have looked far, though, as they made it quite clear with their impassive shrugs and nods that they didn’t care whether or not Kendo stuck around. Midoriya sighed.

“Alright, earlier today, the president of the university received a visit from a little birdie, who told him a number of very interesting things. By this, I mean that Hawks was sent to the school to deliver a list of people that the Hero Commission has deemed unfit for the hero course. They are to be removed. On that list were the twelve of you, myself, and Hagakure. I need to have this same conversation with her when she wakes in the morning, so if you could all refrain from telling her, that would be ideal.”

The response was a mixed bag. Several of the students hung their heads, fists clenched, jaws set. Others burst out with half-hearted complaints. Tokoyami stared down at his hands as Dark Shadow cheered obnoxiously, while Toga and Pony appeared completely disinterested. Uraraka paled, her pallor sickly and green.

“That- They can’t just- f*ck that!” Kamakiri’s shock quickly turned to burning anger. “They can’t just throw us out of the hero course for defending ourselves!”

Midoriya held up a hand. “If you were at any other school, the HPSC probably would have succeeded at that request. But you’re at U.A., and your president very politely tells them to f*ck off as a routine.”

Kamakiri slumped back into his seat with a satisfied snort,muttering, yeah, I bet he did.

With a steeling breath, Shiozaki spoke up, her cadence calm and even. “What does this mean for us, Midoriya? If we aren’t going to be removed from the hero course.”

“Eh, doesn’t really matter.” The flippant tone had 1-B looking over at Toga who just shrugged her shoulders. “Midoriya will take care of it, and we’ll be fine.” More surprise as students looked back and forth between Midoriya and Toga.

“How- how do you know that Midoriya will take care of it?” At that, the group’s attention focused on the large, straw-colored man sitting towards the outskirts of their little cluster. Midoriya sympathized as Bondo seemed to cringe back into his chair, away from their stares. “Not to say that there is anything wrong with you, Midoriya, but- but how- how are you going to take care of it?”

Midoriya let out a slow breath. “Relax, Bondo. No one thinks that you are suggesting anything. It’s a valid question, as well. 1-B doesn’t know me, as some of 1-A does.” Bondo relaxed minutely as Uraraka spoke.

“Well, he fixed me right up.” She clanked one leg against the other, letting the metal plates clatter together before putting her foot back down on the ground.

“Got my sister and me away from my abusive sperm and egg donors!” Toga gave two thumbs up and a bloodthirsty smirk that made the rest of them shiver a bit.

“He’s a good ma-”

“Nedzu and I are working on a plan right now to make sure that you all will be able to get your hero licenses, if that is what you are wanting to do with your degree.” Midoriya cut off whatever horrifying statement was about to fall out of Tokage’s mouth. “In reality, the Commission may like to profess that they are a government body, but they aren’t. They have ties to the government but no real authority to bar you if we go over their heads.”

Kendo frowned, her eyebrows drawing together. “That doesn’t make sense, though? Why would the government allow a private entity to enforce laws?”

Midoriya pointed at Kendo. “Precisely that. They go to great lengths to hide that from the public eye, especially as tension grows between them and the government. The power to appoint heroes and their licenses was given to them back during the Urbans, a time in which the government needed them to be a third party.”

“That sounds like a time bomb waiting to go off, Midoriya.” The concerned look on Tokoyami’s face had the group’s anxiety ratcheting up a notch.

Midoriya couldn’t help but sigh. “Yeah, you can call it that, and you wouldn’t be wrong. Going as it is now, I would give it a decade at most before it blows up in all of our faces. But there is a lot going on behind the scenes that I can’t and won’t talk about with you guys right now. Besides, we're getting off track. Don’t worry about any of that. We’ll talk more about the HPSC, the government, all of your options, and what is happening in the world as a class in your third and fourth years before you graduate.”

“Then, you’re just letting us know this is happening and that there’s nothing to worry about?” Midoriya glanced over at Kaminari and smiled.

“Yes, I am informing you all that this happened because your names were on the list. We have a responsibility to relay that to you, but all you guys need to think about is making it through your four years of training. Nedzu and I will deal with the rest.”

“Can we do anything, Midoriya?” He looked over at Kendo and shook his head.

“Only what you were going to do, anyway. If you really want to help, like I said, focus on your training. Give it everything you’ve got, and when the Sports Festival rolls around, think very carefully about what makes someone a hero. Not the job title, but the trait. Do that, and you’ll all be just fine.”

Midoriya kept a smile on his face as he answered a few more questions before eventually dismissing everyone back to their dorms. He let his expression drop as the last of the students rounded the corner towards the stairs, leaving only Kuroiro remaining on the couch with Komori pulled onto his lap. She was staring fixedly at the space in front of her, unblinking and absolutely still. Midoriya kneeled down beside the pair, his voice soft, face carefully neutral.

“How long has she been like this?”

“Since sometime in the middle of your announcement.” Midoriya took Komori’s arm gently, adjusting his fingers once or twice before he found her pulse. There was a long moment of silence, then Midoriya pulled back, sucking on his teeth for a moment as he took stock.

“She’s tachycardic.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that her resting heart rate shouldn’t be well over one hundred. Komori?” Phoenix pull up the medical records of Komori Kinoko and display them on my left. Midoriya clicked his fingers a couple times before gently turning Komori to look at him.

Alert. Air composition abnormal. Advise immediate scans to determine the cause.

Tsk. sh*t. “Komori? Komori?” A slight twitch of her hand. “Komori. Look around you, Komori, you are fine. Talk to us, please. Can you take a deep breath for me?” No response.

Midoriya’s eyes flicked to Kuroiro’s eyes, and he gave a subtle hand gesture to pick up where he had left off. As Kuroiro started muttering to Komori, Midoriya took note of Kuroiro’s use of her first name. As it came into his field of vision, Midoriya skimmed the medical file and physician's notes, grimacing as he continued to read. Included in her own files were the details of what her mushrooms had done against the villains at the USJ. When he turned back to the two on the couch, Komori was responsive again and sobbing into Kuroiro’s shoulder.

“Komori? Could we speak for a moment?” Komori turned as far as she could in Kuroiro’s hold, choking back sobs as she wiped fruitlessly at her face. Her eyes continued to stream.
“I- I’m sorry. Sometimes I- I just. I can’t stop seeing-” Midoriya felt his expression slip again as the sorrow and anger and understanding crept back in. Too young. They're all too young for this.

Weren’t you too young?

“No, Komori. It’s fine, I know all too well. It’s okay. Kuroiro, could you possibly get Komori a glass of water, please?” The man gave Midoriya a pained smile before shifting Komori off of his lap and onto the couch. He stood up, took four steps, and Midoriya’s alert pinged in his head again.

His eyes snapped to Komori’s and noticed with unease the growing panic in them. Calmly, but sharp in tone, Midoriya raised his voice. “Kuroiro. On second thought, I’ll get it. Please, just wait with Komori.” Though confused, the man was confused but sat back down.

Midoriya pulled his phone from his pocket as he stepped from the room. It took him only a moment to find Hound Dog’s number in his contact list. After several moments, the dial tone turned over to the man’s low, grumbling voice. “Midoriya, I hadn’t thought that you would call me first. This is a pleasant surprise.”

“Sorry, Inui, this isn’t about me.”

“You’ve yet to come in for a session, Midoriya. They are mandated for your classes for a reason.”

Midoriya sighed, shaking his head. “And I told you, I’ll come in when the rest of the students have been seen to. I’ve lived with my problems for a long time now. I’m in no rush to be told that the problems I have are the same problems I think I have. I don’t need it.”

“We’ll have to disagree on that point, Midoriya. I would say that it is more important for you, as their teacher, to have your head clear. But you didn’t call me to rehash this argument. What is it that you need?”

“Has Komori Kinoko from 1-B had a session with you yet?” Midoriya could hear the shuffling of papers on the other side of the line before Hound Dog finally confirmed Midoriya’s suspicions. Pulling the phone away from his face, Midoriya pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought. “Alright, please schedule her for a psychiatric evaluation in the morning.”

“What’s happened?”

“Our rat overlord had me deliver the news regarding the HPSC and their list to the students involved.”

“Please tell me that he wasn’t there.”

“He wasn’t, no. But Komori went unresponsive, almost used her quirk unconsciously. The spores in the air were thick enough to trip atmospheric alerts from my gear. Nonreactive to external stimuli until Kuroiro started trying to talk her down. It took us a few minutes. You should have him there with her, as well.”

“Why’s that?”

“She almost panicked again when he went to step out of the room for a glass of water and she hasn’t left his side since the incident.”

“Are you thinking she’s trauma bonded to him?”

“That’s your job to figure out. What I know is that she let out more spores when she panicked, so you and Shuzenji should wear respirators when you do it.”

“Alright, any other symptoms?”

“The standard for panic. Breathing issues, shaking, tachycardia.”

“Alright, I’ll go speak with Shuzenji. Have her come to the medical ward by ten, please.”

“Will do. Thanks, Inui.” There was a short bark on the other side of the line, which Midoriya took as an affirmative, before the call died. He stuffed the phone back into his pocket, filled a glass from the kitchen cupboard with water, then made his way back towards the common area with quiet footsteps.

When he rounded into the room, he immediately noticed that Komori was exactly where Midoriya had left her, as was Kuroiro. Gently, Midoriya passed the glass of water into her thankful hands and watched as she tipped her head back to take several long gulps. As it was, the woman needed more water than the rest of them as a byproduct of her quirk. As emotionally wrought as she’d been, Midoriya could understand the sudden, desperate need as she drained the glass. With that, Midoriya paused to take her in. The dark bags under her eyes, the dry, chapped lips, the sunken eyes. The way she’d drunk the glass in mere moments. No, it didn’t look like she had been getting nearly enough fluids.

“Komori, in the morning, at ten o’clock, you and Kuroiro are going to report to the medical ward, alright?”

The young woman’s eyes widened in confusion. “Why? I’m not hurt? Neither is Shihai.”

Midoriya slanted an unimpressed look in her direction. “I’m a doctor, Komori. I know the signs of dehydration. The only thing I don’t know is how severe it is.”

Komori blushed, turning her head as she muttered. “It’s fine. I’ll just drink some more water. I don’t need to bother the doctors over there.”

Midoriya sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Komori, but that isn't all. Hound Dog and Recovery Girl will also be there to evaluate your state, psychologically.”

Both Komori and Kuroiro froze in place. “What?” The word came croaking out of Komori’s mouth like a death rattle. Confusion had turned to shock, shock to horror. “I- I don’t need a doctor- a shrink poking around in my head. There is nothing wrong with me! Nothing wrong!” The woman stood up, seeming to move automatically towards the door, only to return a moment later, pacing back and forth, from one side of the room to the other.

“No, no, no. I won’t, I will not. There isn’t anything wrong with me. Sure, I can’t sleep sometimes, and I can’t stop seeing it, but that's normal! I don’t need to go to the crazy doctor because I’m not crazy!”

“I never said you were.” The pacing halted for a moment. “Everyone needs help sometimes, Komori. You don’t need to be crazy to see a doctor for your mental health.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure. Heroes don’t need help. They are the help. Look at all of the top heroes! They don't need help like that!” Midoriya gave Komori a slow shake of his head.

“Who told you that, Komori? Out of the top ten alone, I can give you four who see a therapist regularly and one who is quite vocal about it.” The statement seemed to freeze Komori in place midstride. “You also aren’t the only one who is having this done. Everyone in the hero course has to see Inui at some point. It’s mandatory after what we’ve been through.”

“Oh, but I’m the only one that has to have a full workup?”

“Not everyone has to have that, you are correct. But several students do.”

“Who then?”

“I can’t tell you that, Komori.”

“No. No, you can’t force me. I won’t-”

“I can, actually.” Kuroiro, who had been making his way across the room towards Komori, stopped and stared.

“What- what do you mean you could force her, Midoriya?”

“I mean that since everyone has left, Komori has used her quirk twice… make that three times, without her even realizing it.” Komori blinked, puzzled, before finally looking around and feeling out for her spores. When she did, her face paled.

“If I have to, I will classify her as a threat to not only herself but to others, as well, and force this issue.”

“Wha- what?” Midoriya stepped forward, closing the distance between them for the first time since the conversation began.

“I don’t want to do that, Komori. We all need help. Every one of us needs it.” He watched as tears began to drip down her round cheeks, moisture catching in her eyelashes.

“What? Are you really saying that you’re going to talk to a shrink, too?”

Midoriya stopped, taking in a deep breath as he consciously relaxed his fists. “I made a deal with Hound Dog. He believed me to be one of the students most in need of help. Perhaps, but I was only willing to get that help after every one of you got it first. Because that is what you all need.”

Slowly, Midoriya pulled his shirt up and out of his pants and tugged it to the side. Fading scar tissue networked across his skin from surgeries and injuries alike. Faint starburst, just shy of disappearing, underlaid the more obvious scars, eliciting gasps from the two students standing opposite him. “Hound Dog thinks I need to speak with him, but for that to happen, I need you to get help, too. Won’t you please help me?”

…

Midoriya was halfway back to class 1-A’s dorms when his communicator chimed. He groaned, even as he reached up to tap his ear. “Dabi, you’d better have a damn good reason for this. I have paperwork I need to finish and yet another research paper for the vindictive rat.”

That Nakayama Suto kid finally made it through the front door. Figured you’d want to do something with that.

Midoriya felt his mood improve as the giddy feeling of success flowed into him. I knew that kid would do it. Seal the front doors behind him before he realizes he’s trapped, then go sit on him. We’re on our way.

Midoriya gave a little hop and a laugh as he bolted towards the parking lot. He pulled his phone back out as he speed walked, video calling both Mei and the president together.

“Well, Midoriya, you certainly look as if you’re in a good mood.”

“And you will be, too, Nedzu. Grab your entry tests for electrical engineering through material sciences and meet me at the parking lot. You too, Mei. The kid did it.”

Nedzu smiled, his razor-sharp teeth on full display in the comfort of his own office.. He didn’t know precisely who this was or what he had done to elicit this kind of excited reaction from his students, but this was certain to be, if nothing else, interesting.

Chapter 63: Chapter #62 | To the Wolves

Chapter Text

Midoriya slowed his bike to a crawl as he pulled into the headquarters parking lot for the second time that day. He certainly hadn’t expected to be back, but as Mei stepped off the bike behind him and Nedzu’s driver pulled up alongside the curb, Midoriya found that he could tolerate making the trip.

“So, Midoriya, why are we here quite this…,” Nedzu trailed off, checking his watch as he stepped from the vehicle, “late? We’ll call it late.” In one clawed hand rested the handle of his briefcase, which was, Midoriya hoped, ladened with tests.

“I believe it would be best explained inside. There is another party relevant to this conversation.” At Hatsume’s response, Nedzu offered her a gleeful grin.

“Far be it from me to exclude the relevant parties from an explanation! Forward then.” Midoriya kept his own grin on his face as he walked towards the front entrance. The doors hissed as they approached, signaling the disengagement of the pressure seal and other various locking mechanisms that went into place once the facility was placed in lockdown.

Kid on your left. Rushing door.

The corner of Midoriya’s lip twitched up. Even as the doors opened, Midoriya stuck out an arm, grabbing the high schooler around the chest as he maneuvered them back through the doors. The kid struggled under Midoriya’s arm, beating at his side with enough strength to make him wincing. He’d be bruised, certainly, but it was nothing he hadn’t dealt with before. A grin took over Midoriya’s face as he clocked the look of pure shock on young Nakayama Chou, as well as Dabi’s clear displeasure.

Midoriya raised one gloved hand as he approached, the cursing child in tow. “Well, good evening, Chou. I’m sure you were surprised to be called down here so late.”

The mixture of consternation and horror on Mrs. Nakayama was certainly a sight to see and was yet another piece of the puzzle for Nedzu. “I am so sorry, Mr. Midoriya. I swear, I wasn’t aware of my son’s actions.”

Midoriya hummed, slanting a look towards Dabi. “I believe that we have a better location to discuss this little breach of security. Doesn’t everyone think so?”

Dabi rolled his eyes but turned and walked towards the doors behind reception. Pressing his hand against the black pad on the wall, the doors slid efficiently into place before the frowning head of security.

“Come on, Chou, let’s head to the meeting room for this.” Hatsume gave her materials technician a small, practiced smile as she took her by the elbow and led her deeper into the facility. They followed Midoriya, who gripped Suto under his arm like a discontented sack of potatoes. Chou’s eyes flicked cautiously between her son, the man carrying him, and the small, furry creature following behind them with gleaming eyes.

Their group shuffled into the meeting room without much fanfare or notice, the majority of their employees having already left for the night. Midoriya plopped the kid into one of the seats a ways from the door before walking over to the small kitchenette on the opposite side of the conference room. Nedzu placed his briefcase on top of one of the seats. Reaching in, he dug around for a moment before producing a sizable china teapot from, well, Dabi didn’t actually know where the hell he’d pulled it from, and that was the most unsettling part. He briefly glanced towards the others to see if they had noticed, but Midoriya and Hatsume were busy communing in the corner over a coffee pot, while Mrs. Nakayama fussed over her dissenting child.

Nedzu handed the teapot over to Dabi with a smile that was entirely too much teeth for any realm of comfort. “Boil this, please.”

Dabi stood blinking for a moment as the diminutive president watched, but, as he wasn’t getting any kind of help from his bosses, he eventually settled on a shrug. He accepted the teapot from Nedzu’s claws, pausing uneasily as a chill lanced up his spine, his muscles stiffening to the point of discomfort near immediately. It was an intricate design on the pot, patterns and shapes made of gold and silver that made Dabi feel a bit queasy to look at. Wanting it out of his hands quickly, he brought his palms flush against the bottom of the pot very briefly and lit up a flame.

The fire lasted for only a moment, but Dabi noted how the president’s eyebrows lifted in what appeared to be amusem*nt. He realized belatedly that perhaps exposing something so delicate to his flames wasn’t a very good idea, but when Dabi glanced down, he saw with shock that the teapot was perfectly fine. Not a mark, no heat, nothing at all seemed out of place. It was exactly the same as it had been before he’d used his fire.

“Hmm, well, I had expected you to use a more conventional method of heating, though I suppose that works, as well.”

Nedzu took the teapot back into his hands and rested it carefully there against his paw pads. “Hmm, yes, that worked fine.” Without another glance in his direction, Nedzu strolled casually back to the table with that same polite smile he’d worn since first arriving behind Midoriya and Hatsume.

That water can’t be boiling; I barely used my fla- The thought was cut off as Nedzu produced a matching cup from his briefcase and poured out a serving of fresh, hot tea. Dabi felt that chill from earlier return as Nedzu shifted in his direction, eyes entirely too satisfied as he raised a single clawed digit to his muzzle. “I do love bone china. It’s so wonderful, don’t you think?”

Midoriya turned with his coffee and took in the room. Dabi had left moments before, and while that was fine, he would need him back before they were done here. He briefly asked Phoenix to relay that before glancing at Nedzu. A frown tugged at his lips, and he shook his head. He had no clue where that teapot had come from, but he didn’t want to know. There was a lot about Nedzu he simply didn’t want to know. It was better to just accept it and move on to something easier to deal with.

Midoriya placed a filled cup in front of their materials tech before taking a seat nearby. “So, Chou, I’ll be frank with you. This is bad.”

The woman stood from her chair. Her shoulders hunched inward as she folded herself into a bow in front of Midoriya. “Please, I’ll do whatever I have to. Please forgive my son for this.”

Hatsume quirked an eyebrow as she sipped her coffee. “It’s not quite that simple, I’m afraid. If it were just this one time, then, of course, we might be able to do something about it. Stupid kids setting off proximity alarms and such.”

“Just… one?” The words seemed to rock the woman, and Midoriya grimaced. With a tap of a few buttons, the glass surrounding the meeting room frosted over and security footage was overlaid across it.

“See, Chou, your son has been at this for quite some time now. This wasn’t an impulse decision or any kind of spur-of-the-moment action. Your son has actively been trying to break through the security of our front doors for a while.”

Both Nakayamas stiffened in their seats, one sinking further down into the chair, as the other sat furious and shaking. As she began to fully realize the implications of what was being said, however, the woman’s fury turned to misery. “Why, Suto? Why didn’t you tell me about this when it started?” The question, said with such defeat, elicited no response from the young man. Midoriya breathed out.

“We’ll get to that. Unfortunately, his attempted break-in is only the beginning of our problems. Now, normally,” Midoriya stood, walking over to a small backpack that the kid had carried with him, “pursuant to our wishes, the police would just slap the kid with a warning, since it’s his first time doing something like this. Maybe a misdemeanor, if the government was feeling fussy.”

For the first time, Midoriya’s words elicited a response from the young boy. He sat up straight in his chair. His gaze was wild and focused intently on Midoriya’s. “Wha- what?! The government? Why would they get involved?”

Midoriya shook his head. “It’s no secret that we work closely with the government, Suto. While we aren’t a government facility, that doesn’t mean the government doesn’t have a vested interest in what it is that we do here.” He rifled through the bag a bit before pulling out two black, plastic blocks. “Well, sh*t, what do we have here? I was expecting to find one, not two.”

Midoriya rolled the bricks in his gloved hands until he found what he’d been expecting. One held a series of buttons and switches on the panel. A small LCD screen would display what was likely the relevant information for the user. The other plastic block held only a button. Rolling that one a little more, he found two metal prongs on the end of it. Midoriya let out a slow whistle.

“Well, double sh*t. This,” Midoriya held up the brick with the LCD screen, “is likely to be the hacking device that your son used to breach the security on the front doors. As a side note, kid, this is a damn good piece of work. The security at the front is weaker than the rest of the building by design, but it’s still on par with most security firms. Sadly, it would have fried itself in our lobby, as it did outside more than a few times. It is also,” Midoriya turned back to the boy’s mother, “a felony to own if you don’t have the proper paperwork.” Suto cringed back into his seat with a muttered, I didn’t know that. Chou had begun to lose her coloring at the word felony.

“This, on the other hand,” Midoriya set down the first device and held up the second, “I was not expecting to find.”He rolled it over in his hand again, looking for a spot to open up the casing, but as there didn’t appear to be one to find, he instead placed the corner of the device against the table. Suto threw up his hands with a frantic yell as Midoriya proceeded to bring his hand down, cracking the edge of it on the table to separate the back and front plates from their glue bonding.

Pulling the relatively few pieces from their casing, Midoriya held them up for the occupants of the room to see. Hatsume looked at them and murmured. “Well, that’s something. A Li-ion battery, hi-vol pulse module, charging board, button, and some metal contacts. A very effective homemade taser.”

“And very much illegal.” The occupants of the room glanced from Hatsume to Nedzu. Midoriya gathered from the wide-eyed expressions on both mother and son that they hadn’t expected Nedzu to talk. He set the pieces, still connected by their wiring, down on the table with an air of indifference.

“It’s for self-defense! I don’t know who’s out at this time of night.”

“I am personally all for carrying something to defend yourself with. Just don’t get caught with it, as it is still, unfortunately, illegal here in Japan.” Midoriya picked up a thick manilla envelope that had been waiting on the table, reaching in to slide its contents out for the group to see. “By all accounts, Suto, you are an intelligent individual. Until you reached high school, your records were spotless, your grades almost impractically perfect. What happened?”

Midoriya paced leisurely down the table,handing papers off to Nedzu as passed by. Grades, incident reports, and students involved, all thoroughly documented.

“How, how the hell do you know all of that?” Midoriya let his eyes flick disinterestedly towards the teenager before passing over him to his mother.

“We’ve been investigating you since your first attempt to get in here. Your public information wasn’t hard to get, the protected information even less so.”

“You have no right to my-” Suto surged to his feet, readying himself, it seemed, for an argument of epic proportions. Hatsume cut him off with a lazy, dispassionate tone.

“Do you know that this little stunt of yours is going to blow back on your mother, too?”

“What?” The boy staggered a step back as he looked at Hatsume, then to his mother. After a moment, he lowered himself back into the chair.

“Did you think this was just about you? You got bored, so you wanted to see what you could do. I get that. I missed most of my high school classes, too. But this was, unfortunately, a step too far.”

“What-” Suto’s face turned towards Midoriya, searching. “What is she talking about?”

“Oh,” the word, more of a croak than anything, had Suto turning to face his mother. “My security clearance. They’ll pull my security clearance.”

“What? They can’t do that just because I-”

“They can. They will.”

Midoriya stared at the kid, at his mother, and sighed. “Nedzu,” he murmured, “are you seeing what I am in those records?”

These records, that quirk. Oh yes, Midoriya has done quite well showing this promising little kit to me. Yes, he has. Nedzu looked up from the papers with a feral grin, the Nakayama family jolting at the sight. “I do like to believe I am, Midoriya, and I do believe I see where this is going.”

Satisfied, Midoriya clapped his hands together, bringing all eyes back to him. Chou looked up from the ground, her lips pressed tight. “So what happens now, sir?” The defeated expression on the woman’s face, the forlorn tone she spoke with, had Hatsume rolling her eyes.

“We would have just had his ass arrested the first time he tried breaking in if we didn’t plan to deal with him, Chou.”

Midoryia raised his eyes to the ceiling. “And you were doing so well, Mei. What she says is correct, Chou. If we had just run him off, we would have risked him just going up the road and breaking into another secure building, one that we couldn’t have done anything about.”

“Then my son…” Mrs. Nakayama trailed off as Midoriya shook his head.

“No, he’s still going to face punishment. But this way, he gets a choice.”

Nedzu stood from his chair at the segue, took a step around the table, and offered a theatrical bow. “I do believe that is my cue to introduce myself. Am I a mouse? A dog? A bear? I’m the president of our nation’s finest institution, U.A. University!”

Mrs. Nakayama froze in her seat. Though it appeared at first that her son would have the opposite reaction, he was held in place by the weight of Nedzu’s hungry stare.
“So, here is what is going to happen. You, my young man,” Nedzu pointed a claw at Suto, “are going to sit here and take all of theeese.” Nedzu snatched his briefcase from the chair, and with a frenzied kind of glee, slapped a stack of papers down in front of the boy. Suto paused, carefully picking up the first sheet to read the title. He blanched.

“Why would I want to do that?” After a moment of silence, “Sir.”

“Suto!” Chou whipped to the side, her face the picture of scandalized embarrassment. “Just be quiet and take the-” Mrs. Nakayama trailed off as she read the top of the paper. “Tests?”

Nedzu stuck a single paw in the air, then pointed it at her. “Exactly, Mrs. Nakayama. Tests. You see, quite often in our society, we have students fall through the cracks. Either the student can’t keep up with the material, or they keep up too well and get bored. Far too often, we can’t catch these students in time. In this case, we have managed to do just that.”

“But, uh, what does any of this have to do with my son’s crimes?”

Taking this as his cue, Midoriya spoke up. “Because, Chou, U.A. has a restorative course for,” he paused, sounding tired, “misguided youths. It’s an outreach program of sorts, mainly operating in impoverished areas that have been forgotten about. It has an almost non-existent acceptance rate.” Because the rat uses it to abduct promising children. “Almost no one knows about it, but it exists. I brought Nedzu along, hoping that he would find your son interesting enough to accept into that program. We still have to report it, but with the school involved, we should be able to gloss over the details of the report. He’ll be stuck with a tracking anklet and won’t be able to leave U.A. grounds until he graduates. He’ll have a curfew from hell and a strict schedule, but he won’t be marked with a record. So there is that.”

Mrs. Nakayama took a look at the large, unidentifiable mammal still boring holes through her son. Her expression was deadpan when she turned to Midoriya. “There is no other option, is there?”

Midoriya returned her expression with his own. “Sure there is. It’s this, prison, or running for the rest of his life from the authorities.”

Mrs. Nakayama turned back to her son and set her hand down heavily on his shoulder. “Do the tests.” She turned to look at the smiling chimera and suppressed the shudder that was working its way up her spine. She put her hand out to shake Nedzu’s. “Take care of my son, please.”

Nedzu’s grin widened. “Don’t worry at all, ma’am. With his aptitude for machines, I’m sure he’ll love it at U.A. We have wonderful departments all around, and we’ll be sure to get him the help he needs.”

Midoriya glanced at Hatsume, flicked his eyes pointedly to the door. Guiding his partner and Mrs. Nakayama from the room, Midoriya gave Nedzu a thumbs up as he followed the two out. Once he’d closed the door, however, he let the smile from his face. He could hear the faintest sound of laughter from inside the conference room.

Mrs. Nakayama looked back towards the door with trepidation. “Are you sure that it’s okay to leave Suto with… Nedzu?”

Hatsume snorted. “Oh, sure thing. He’ll teach him all sorts of things. It’s fun.”

Midoriya shook his head as they walked towards the security office. He supposed it could be worse, but leaving Nedzu with Suto? That may as well have been part of the punishment, itself.

Chapter 64: Chapter #63 | Warriors and Politicians

Chapter Text

Verdant Revolution Chapter #63 Warriors and Politicians

Midoriya had entered the press conference with a carefully cultivated smile on his face. As expected, there were several reporters unwilling to comply with the simple instructions that were given and were forcibly removed. If Aizawa had been there, he would have appreciated Midoriya’s talent in forcing order upon people he considered to be feral.

The media hounds were slowly chipping away at the mask Midoriya wore with a zeal that was beginning to near the intelligence he suspected some of them might have. Underneath the slimy veneer and the fake smiles was a poorly disguised contempt for the people they interrogated, the questions, and themselves, of course.

“This question is for Mr. Midoriya. There has been much controversy surrounding the USJ attack and the lethal force used by both you and your fellow students. But among those discussions, there have been rumors of a new, less lethal alternative ammunition that was field tested at the USJ. Can you comment on these rumors?”

Midoriya blinked, raising an eyebrow at the reporter. He recognized the man, a common sight in Moonlit Industries press conferences. A surprise to be sure, as Midoriya hadn’t expected to see any of the same reporters. The news agency must have thought I would be more forthcoming with a friendly face. Midoriya mused for a moment on that before deciding that they probably had a point.

“Hmm. I suppose I can comment on that, yes. For some time now, Moonlit Industries has been working on a less lethal alternative, following the failure of other developers. This ammunition has been developed in conjunction with both our law enforcement and hero partners with the intent of utilizing it as another tool in villain apprehension.”

“Can you comment on how it works?”

“Not in detail, no. As I’m sure you understand, the technology is proprietary and is further restricted by the contract we work under to develop such tools. Due to its trial nature, I am unable to comment at this time.”

“Why were you carrying such a thing during what was purported to be rescue training?” Midoriya felt his smile twitch as another reporter called out.

“It is standard practice for all hero students to carry all of their gear into training, regardless of what that training might be. If they find they cannot perform their duties while carrying certain aspects of their gear, then they are encouraged to make changes through our support department to remedy the situation. We, as an institution, would rather the students discover these flaws during testing rather than in the field where it matters far more.” Nedzu fielded the question as if it was the thousandth time that he’d had to answer it, and, Midoriya supposed, it probably was.

“At some point, it is true that you switched from this less lethal ammunition to live ammunition. How can you justify the damage this has caused?” Midoriya felt his eye twitch but took a deep breath, steeling himself before he answered.

“I switched to live ammunition after I ran out of the trial ammunition. As for the damage inflicted, I believe, and the courts have already ruled this to be true, that these actions were entirely justified, considering the circ*mstances.”

“Do you believe that the use of firearms at the USJ led to a higher death count than if you had not had access to the firearms?”

“How do you justify these deaths at your hands during the battle at the USJ?”

“Is U.A. training future heroes to become murderers?”

Midoriya’s mask cracked, and the snarl that he’d been working to keep tamped down erupted from his throat with pure, unadulterated hatred. “Enough.” Midoriya felt the president’s clawed hand press down on his arm as the room fell silent.

Nedzu leaned in, speaking in quiet tones as he kept his grip on Midoriya. “Do not answer that question. You may leave, Midoriya.” Midoriya, on the other hand, made no move to quiet his voice as he spoke.

“I am afraid I would like to answer that question, sir. Who was it that so brazenly came into this press conference and called the students here murderers?” A long moment of silence before a hand raised amidst the crowd. Midoriya immediately zeroed in on the reporter that hand was attached to. The man seemed flustered at being called out in such a manner, his eyes darting, his fingers touching the perfectly knotted tie at the base of his throat reflexively. Regardless, with a haughty breath, he repeated the question.

“I would ask that you refrain from inaccurate, inflammatory comments in the future. It has already been ruled that all criminal deaths pertaining to the USJ resulted from justified uses of lethal force.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that the students here, at a top-tier school, no less, killed people so easily-”

“Easily? Fact? Let’s talk about facts, then. It is a fact that students come to the U.A. hero course to receive four years of training, which consequently entitles them to a degree therefrom. It is a fact that the majority of students in their first-year range from age eighteen to age twenty. A vast majority of the students in this course are still teens during their first year.”

“That doesn’t-”

“Be quiet, sir, and allow me to answer your question. It is a fact that by the time these students graduate from the program, an average of seventy percent wash out of the training for some reason or another. It is a fact that of the remaining thirty percent of students, a number will inevitably take any plethora of offered positions that make use of such a degree, rather than go into hero work directly.”

Midoriya’s voice rose in volume as he spoke, fire dancing in his eyes. “The students you are so quick to call murderers, sir, do not possess anything resembling that level of training. They do not have the tools or the knowledge necessary to perform official duties as heroes. Up until the USJ, these teenagers had been going through little more than basic conditioning. The USJ was supposed to be their first foray into protecting innocent people using the knowledge that they had gained during class. Instead, they were met with three S-class villains and over two hundred criminals that had come to the USJ with the express purpose of killing them.”

“That- that does not justify the taking of lives-” The reporters sitting closest to the man had begun to subtly scoot away from him. Regardless of their ideas and stances on the subject matter, they didn’t want to be in the eyeline of an irate hero student, nor the faculty who would surely remember their faces.

“Do you know how much your chances of survival decrease when faced with more than one attacker? This isn’t a movie where one can fight off an army on their own. Five-to-one odds the students faced, worse for our two professors. Students, without training, scattered across a facility designed to train them in the worst possible natural disasters, being hunted by criminals who, through both word and action, intended to kill them. It ceased to be a matter of right or wrong. You kick, you scream, you fight with every single thing you have in you just so that you and the person next to you can make it out alive.”

The fire in Midoriya’s voice disappeared, leaving cold desolation. “Thirty-nine teenagers, hardly older than children, walked into a training facility to learn how to save lives. Thirty-eight left it alive. Of those alive, countless injuries left many in critical condition and several families wondering if their children were going to make it through the night. Mental, emotional, and physical wounds that may never heal, yet you have the gall to sit there in front of me on national television and call those students murderers?”

“Call me what you want; I have the training, the licenses, and the ability to stand between the other students and the critical threat that we faced. Investigate me and pick apart every scrap of information you can about me. Judge me for my actions, if you will. I did what I had to, cognizant of the weight and severity of what I was doing in order to protect the innocent. But do not,” the snarl ripped from Midoriya’s throat, and his eyes lit green, from stage lights or fury, the reporters didn’t know, “stand there and call my classmates murderers for protecting their lives.”

…

Midoriya caught Uraraka’s leg with a grunt as it kicked out and into his side. He felt it when the toes of her pseudo boot dug into his back as she leveraged herself towards him to strike at his head. Unfortunately for her, he had no qualms about tucking his shoulder into her chest and ramming her back into the closest wall.

Shoji’s arms wrapping around him pulled Midoriya away from Uraraka and bound him up from behind. Midoriya slammed his foot down on the larger man’s own before his elbow and head came back, making contact with bone. The coughing fit gave Midoriya enough time to slip from the bind. Not enough time to strike at him again before Uraraka was up and swinging at him.

The kick to the back of Midoriya’s knee had him stumbling, and his eyes flicked to where he had been tracking Hagakure. He reached out and grabbed the girl around her arm before flinging her into the charging bull that was their gravity quirk user. Midoriya blinked away the change to his vision as both girls hit the ground with an oomph loud enough to make Midoriya sigh. Hagakure needed to either time that better or get more aggressive after putting him off balance. At the very least, she could have opened up a window for Uraraka to use her quirk. Well, at least their teamwork is improving.

…

“Alright, everyone, gather up.” Midoriya clapped his hands as the students began with their self-guided stretches, something that they had thankfully, and unanimously, taken upon themselves when they’d first reached the simulated city that had served as their training grounds for the day.

“You’ve all worked hard these last couple of weeks. As you all know, we’re only a week out from the Sports Festival. Exciting and anxiety-inducing at the same time, I know, but as I mentioned last week, we’ll be changing things up again for this segment of your training.”

Ashido vibrated in place at the idea of a more enticing exercise than the endless sparring they had been doing. At some point, Aizawa had rejoined them, finally unswaddled from his mummy-esque layers of bandages and insisting that he see how their training was coming along. That, of course, was how they’d ended up with the more exciting, presumably, exercises pushed back by a week with a promise of when you’re ready. They were all well and truly ready to do something else.

Midoriya narrowed his eyes at Ashido. Her excited vibrations, combined with her eye-searing outfit, had turned her into a veritable kaleidoscope of colors. It was hard to look at her for any extended period of time without risking the image being burnt into his retinas. Aizawa glared at the costume as if it had personally insulted his family.

“Now, today’s training will be a little different from what you are used to.” Midoriya raised his voice enough for it to carry. “Hatsume! Bring them out, please.” The door to the control room slid open, Nedzu making his way into the room first. The president of the university smiled as he clambered up Aizawa’s side to sit on his shoulder. Aizawa grunted as he adjusted to the weight.

Hatsume entered next, accompanied by a teenager and what appeared to be a robot pulled straight out of a classic science fiction novel. Standing somewhere around five and a half feet, the robot, with its thick plating, was dyed a dark blue-gray. All of the features spoke of a humanoid shape, but on the LCD screen, the face was made up entirely of two straight lines and one curved, the emulation of a smile. The simplistic rendering flickered as the students studied it, replaced instead by the chibi-style image of a hen. The original face reappeared after a moment. Both Jiro and Toga blinked in recognition before Jiro stepped back quickly.

“Oh, hell no. Do not tell me that we are fighting those things, Midoriya.” Delighted, Midoriya laughed, a sentiment which was echoed by Hatsume’s slow, sly smirk. While a majority of the class stared on in a fascinated kind of dread, Yaoyorozu moved closer to examine the bot.

“Yes, you will be fighting them, but you can relax. Athena won’t be the one controlling the robots you’ll be fighting. Everyone, allow me to introduce this young man first. Nakayama Suto is currently one of U.A.’s wards. Due to the nature of his quirk, he’ll be the one piloting the bot you see here and similar bots like it. Say hello.”

A chorus of greetings rang out while Midoriya nodded his head. “Good. Now, to explain what we’re doing here today, and as All Might so helpfully brought up earlier in the semester, most villain fights take place indoors.”

“There is a good reason why we do not start students indoors, however, as can be seen from the first battle trial.” Midoriya nodded at Aizawa’s comment before continuing.

“Today, we’ll be working outside. The only objective is to make it down the assigned street while successfully stopping any crime that may be taking place on it. For that purpose, we have co-opted a program that Hatsume originally developed in partnership with the Ministry of Defense.”

Hatsume smiled cheerfully as she wrapped her arms around the robot in a fierce hug before letting it go with a slap on the back. The bot seemed to blink as it processed the gesture, turning its head after a moment to pat Hatsume on the head. Toga shivered, her eyes sliding uneasily between it and her friends. She didn’t like the bots. Even if they were useful, they didn’t bleed. Toga didn’t easily trust things that didn’t bleed.

“These bots,” Hatsume started, “were a pain in the ass to get approval for. See, while Midoriya and his team worked on the ammunition you’ve all seen, the engineering team and I developed these to train live combat scenarios for the JSDF. They’ve got all sorts of sensors inside them.” Hatsume rolled her wrist over, adjusting the band there to project the pseudo-biometrics of the bot for the class to see. “This way, we’re able to train you all without risk of harm.”

Nedzu gave a small chuckle from Aizawa’s shoulder. “I was able to make a deal for the trial use of the robots for Class 1-A’s training. All of you young students just need to take this opportunity to learn from them!”

Sero raised his hand a bit nervously. “Uh, not to disparage anyone or anything, but Toga and Jiro are two of the best fighters in our class. Why are they so spooked by this robot, and does that mean we don’t stand a chance?”

Hatsume smiled. It wasn’t a comfortable smile for the class to see, too much tooth. “Ah, yes, well. Back when we were developing them, those two insisted on fighting them to train for the entrance exam here. At that time, we only had the training program that we’d designed for the military. Suffice it to say, you all don’t need the bots to perform quite that well yet. Today, the ‘civilian’ bots will be on simple routine programming, while the ‘villain’ bots will be controlled directly by Nakayama here. We have a few trial models that can mimic certain quirks, but they won’t be involved here. All simple strength enhancers and durability quirks today.”

Aizawa sighed. “The idea is that we can introduce you to low-level villain fights before moving onto more difficult battles.”

“This exercise, and others like it, will provide you with a rudimentary idea of what patrolling a street is like and introduce you all to some of the key aspects of hero work. That way, you aren’t thrown in the deep end without the ability to swim once you begin your internships.”

“How are we supposed to identify the villain bots and civilian bots?” Todoroki asked in a neutral tone that had Midoriya side-eyeing Aizawa.

“To begin with, there is no easy way to separate a villain from a civilian if they haven’t already committed a crime. It’s part of the challenge of law enforcement. You cannot simply arrest someone for being suspicious. Law enforcement officials such as heroes are, by nature, a responsive force, not an offensive one. Unless they are a wanted criminal, which is something we’ll get to at a later time, you simply have to remain vigilant. That is part of what we’ll be practicing today.”

“That being said,” Hatsume continued to smirk as she gestured, “once they have committed a crime…” The robot’s face gained a set of angry, downturned eyebrows, and when it flipped to its second image, instead of a hen, a chibi fox appeared.

Midoriya looked around. “Any more questions, or should we start pairing off?

Chapter 65: Chapter #64 | Leave a Mark

Chapter Text

Midoriya stood beside Aizawa, arms crossed, in front of the simulated city’s main console. As Hatsume finished establishing the link between Nakayama and the control system, he began to drum his fingers restlessly against his arm. She had taken longer than he’d expected to get back from the changing room with the two girls selected for the first round. A second later, when he got the go-ahead from his partner, he turned and gave Aizawa the signal to begin the exercise.

“Alright, you two, again. All you have to do is reach the end of the street in front of you while stopping any crime that you come across.” Aizawa let off the transmit button just as Tsunotori and Hagakure’s voices chirped through the intercom. The two stepped up to the beginning of the road, seeming to ready themselves for the run. A satisfied smirk crept across Midoriya’s face as the students shouted out questions from behind him.

Cameras were the primary source for the view screens. Scattered down the road at regular points were a plethora, placed strategically for viewing the exercises. But today, the main star of the show was the large screen in the middle, displaying the view from one of U.A’s drones, the same drones which would—coincidentally, Midoriya would swear—be recording students the following week for the Sports Festival.

Silently, Midoriya ordered the drone into a low hover just in front of the two women. Quite a few of his students exclaimed in surprise, and the smirk transitioned into a more genuine smile. He pressed his finger down on the transmit button. “Smile girls, you’re on camera.”

“Hey, guys!” Hagakure gave a wide grin, holding up a peace sign in her new hero costume. The long sleeves and knee-length duster, dyed a light gray tone, was broken up by pieces of brown leather and zippers. Though it initially appeared as a simple duster and hood, its thick lining betrayed the ensemble as something more when Hagakure spun, revealing the inside of the jacket. The combat boots, pants, and shirt underneath, all in varying shades of gray, should have come off as plain and utilitarian, but the class was focused, rather, on what was going on above the woman's shoulders.

Smiling back at them was someone that none of the students had ever actually expected to see. Short and wavy chartreuse hair with pink highlights hung to the woman's shoulders. Her tear-stained, violet-teal eyes stared up into the camera.

“Now, as Aizawa stated, all you have to do is make it to the end of the road. That being said, Hagakure, the gear that you are wearing, we will stress again, is experimental. If you feel that anything is strange or off, say something. As for what we spoke about in the hospital, we’ll begin training for that later on. For now, just focus on performing as any of your classmates would.”

Midoriya took his hand off of the transmit button at her affirmative and watched as the two began their advance down the road. As if waiting for that moment, the class behind him exploded with motion and noise. He knew they’d have questions, and at least they seemed to settle on the same ones.

“Gah, stop!” Midoriya threw his hands up, easing them back down only once the group had grown quiet. “One at a time, please. Yes,” he stressed, “Hagakure is currently visible. As I said before, it is experimental, and we still have issues that we have to work out before the technology is finished with development.”

“But when?” Ashido grabbed Midoriya by the shoulders and shook him, earning a half-hearted glare from the man.

“As of about fifteen minutes ago. We’ve been working on cloaking technology for some time at Moonlit Industries, but we’ve only been able to create stationary cloaking fields using large amounts of power. Any kind of movement and the matrix would destabilize, resulting in the entire thing malfunctioning. We had hoped that Hagakure’s quirk might lead to a breakthrough in that area, so we brought her on after the apprehension test.”

“That’s still quite impressive, Midoriya. In a matter of months, you seem to have made great strides, looking at Hagakure.” Midoriya’s eyes flicked to Yaoyorozu.

”Eh, we’ve barely made any progress on that project. It’s dead in the water and probably will be until we can figure out how to replicate Hagakure’s quirk effects using technology.”

“Then how are you making her visible?” The tone of confusion, mild interest, and concern had a large number of the class turning their heads to Todoroki, who neither contributed to these kinds of questions often, nor took interest in his classmates outside of fighting them.

Staring intently at the screen, Midoriya raised a finger in silent rebuke. Rather than badger him, the class quieted again, tuning back into the communications between their teammates. They watched as Pony bolted into a dead sprint, fleeing from a purse snatcher as Hagakure… actually, wait, where had Hagakure disappeared to?

Midoriya reached forward, eyes glued to the display, and flicked a switch. The screen split, with one half displaying a duplicated image in a vivid spectrum of colors. Atop one of the horns chasing after the criminal bot rested an invisible Hagakure, discernible only as a blurred, red caricature of herself. The horn sped up before flipping in front of the bot. Hagakure dropped quietly to the ground as the robot spun in place, raising its fists to engage Tsunotori.

Nakayama hadn’t been paying enough attention to the lack of the hero's partner, as a moment later, a kick to the side of the robot's knee had the bot crumbling to the ground, its arms wrenched up and behind him by Hagakure. Several seconds later, two police bots bustled over to take command of their robotic friend. They could add more complicated elements later. For now, they only had one thing to worry about.

“I don’t know why you guys are surprised at this point.” All eyes turned to Uraraka, who simply clacked her legs together contemplatively. “I’d consider this a level more complex, but that’s just me.”

Midoriya snorted, shaking his head. “I couldn’t comment. Most of that,” Midoriya gestured to Hagakure as a ripple shook across her location for just a moment before she became visible again, “is Hatsume’s work. I understand enough to get what it is that we’re doing and how, but actually create the machines? That’s all Hatsume.”

Midoriya winced as a loud crackle was heard, followed by Hagakure’s intense profanity. The woman unclipped her belt of pouches and tossed it down the road as it started to sparkle and skip around in the street like a rogue firecracker. Hagakure’s skin disappeared again, leaving only her floating clothing. Midoriya shook his head as the profanity continued. Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose and pressed the transmit.

“Please refrain in front of civilians, Hagakure. It’s alright. You guys figured something like this would happen, right? They’ll get it sorted out for the next version. Are you okay to continue?” Hagakure confirmed, her tone annoyed, as they picked up their pace toward the end of the street again.

“Anyway,” Midoriya let his eyes leave the screen again, “Hatsume has gotten really good at manipulating light. When Hagakure is visible, that's the armor in passive mode. Low power draw, as it effectively just redirects the light her quirk is already redirecting. Easy to say, hard to pull off. The active form that you all saw forces the polymer weave in her armor to piggyback off of her quirk to vanish with her.”

“And that eats power like no tomorrow.” Hatsume waved a frustrated hand in the air. “Our current generation of batteries and capacitors can’t meet what we need, so we’ve had to go back to the drawing board entirely. Completely reinvent batteries that have enough juice for field work.”

“We can’t just slap a miniature reactor on her back, either, so that problem is the major hurdle right now.” The two scientists continued to grumble back and forth with Yaoyorozu chiming in on occasion until Hagakure and Tsunotori returned by street level a few minutes later.

“Midorriiiii. The batteries died.” Midoriya shook his head, exasperated.

“We saw. We have spares.” Hagakure seemed to perk up, and Midoriya lifted his hand. “After Hatsume figures out why the last set went firework on you. There is a lot of energy in these batteries. We don't need them detonating on your hip next time. In the meantime, give the class a bow and reintroduce yourself, so they can use your name.”

Hagakure hopped in place, performing an elaborate stage bow. “The first of your shadow program and the first ghost. I am The Silent Informant: Phantom.”

…

Ashido shivered as she walked down the street. It was… uncomfortable. She decided that uncomfortable was a good word for what she was feeling right now. The robots that filled the street were lifelike, way too lifelike to be running what Midoriya had described as ‘simple’ routines. They wore clothes, they bickered and talked with each other. They even played sports in the damn street.

Uraraka’s head snapped to the side again, her eyes narrowed towards a robot huddled in an alleyway opening, little more than a shawl around it. That had been the other thing, Uraraka’s behavior. Well, hell, perhaps Ashido should say the entire class' behavior. Since the USJ, they had all been jumpy, but Uraraka was the worst. The scuff of boots, the click of a door lock, Uraraka was looking towards every little sound as if something awful would happen if she missed it.

Ashido spotted the robot pulling out a knife behind another robot a fraction of a second before Uraraka did. Both women took off at a clip toward the scene. The one with the knife saw them coming and dropped it, setting off at a sprint in the opposite direction. Feet gliding down the street as she used her acid to propel herself forward, Ashido skidded to a stop, dropping down on her knees in front of the robot on the ground. It had curled around its stomach, as if protecting its wound.

“It’s alright. You’re going to be fine, I’m a hero! Let me see.” Ashido coaxed the robot into unfurling and automatically moved to apply pressure to the wound, her mind registering several upsetting facts at once. The robots had been lifelike enough for her to treat as human, doing so automatically, instinctively. Her hands were now covered in some poor facsimile of blood, and her partner was nowhere to be found. Ashido grimaced, keeping pressure with one hand as she pointed at two large bots.

“You. You. Keep the crowd back, now.” Ashido reached up to where her radio rested before yelling toward the drone, instead. “Does this count as requesting an ambulance?” Ashido received her answer a few seconds later when two robots painted with red crosses busted into the circle that had formed around them. When they took the injured civilian off her hands, Ashido breathed out. Now, where the hell was Uraraka?

…

Uraraka bounded quickly to the left, removing her own gravity, and pressing off of the alley wall. The right wall met her as she pressed off again, launching herself over the fleeing robot before accelerating her own gravity and slamming a leg into its back, riding the bot to the floor. Silently, fuming, she dragged the robot's arms up behind it before standing. She pinned the robot in place with the full weight of her body, one of her feet on its hands and other on top of the bot's spine. Uraraka turned to say something to Ashido when she had a thought.

Where exactly was Ashido?

…

Jiro walked down the street with Toga in tow. Both were used to interacting with the bots and didn’t bother tensing up as the others did when they moved. Aizawa had selected the two to go last, and Toga suspected that while they could have served as an example, Midoriya most likely had other plans for them.

…

The class watched as Jiro took off toward the storefront. Robots spilled from the building. Alarmed chirps and panicked movements made it clear to any bystanders that something was wrong.

“Toga, back?”

“Got it.”

Midoriya narrowed his eyes as the two used their communicators to relay the condition inside to each other. One large bot was attempting to peel open a safe while another stuffed cash into a bag. Jiro confirmed with Toga before pushing in fast, closing the distance to the bot at the cash register.

It looked up as she got within striking distance, shock flickering across the screen as it reeled back. Its fists came up, but not in time to block the strike to its face. The force sent it tumbling to the ground.

The bot peeling apart the safe turned to help its friend. It took one step toward Jiro before Toga struck. Quick blow to the knee, quick blow to the throat, one arm wrapped around its body as she twisted hard, bringing the bot down. A few seconds was all that it had taken for Jiro and Toga to take down two criminals. Cuffs went on as Jiro tossed her bot down beside Toga’s, then stepped away to clear the rest of the area as Toga reached up to call for police units. The class blinked at the speed of the takedown. Midoriya watched with an impassive gaze.

…

Midoriya sat in the common area with a tablet, reviewing the footage of the first day's training. They’d have to ramp up the difficulty and complexity over the course of the semester, but they would at least be able to perform the basic tasks of patrolling by the time internships came around in a few weeks. As long as they followed the directions of the heroes in charge of them, they should be fine.

Father. The voice in Midoriya’s ears had him blinking. Of all the A.I. he had expected to reach out, it hadn’t been the one that was calling for him now.

Shadow. You’ve picked an odd time. What’s going on? Midoriya kept his expression a practiced neutral, but in the back of his mind, he was frowning, calculating.

Regarding the Yakuza, I’ve found some information that you’d best take a look at. Even I have to admit to finding it rather… distasteful.

Your objections are noted. How graphic is what I’m about to look at?

Graphic enough that you likely would not wish for your classmates to view it.

Midoriya grimaced. Shadow had a tendency to understate these kinds of things. Perhaps it was an effect of being their more dedicated clandestine A.I. Perhaps Shadow just didn’t take enough time off. If he only exposed Shadow to the negatives of humanity, something at some point was going to break, and he had zero interest in that outcome. Something for Midoriya to think about at another time.

He moved across the room while routing the sound from the tablet directly into his implants. No need for the students to hear whatever it was by accident. With his back to the corner, Midoriya sank down into the beanbag. After a quick glance towards the spattering of students across the room to verify that no one was paying attention, Midoriya gave a quick order for the information to be pulled up on the tablet.

Midoriya grimaced as he started reading through reports clearly compiled by daylight heroes. Bastards had a bad tendency to miss details, too focused on the potential media sh*tstorm than they were on the civilians in their AO.

As Midoriya delved deeper into the reports, though, he started to notice a disturbing trend. Human abduction at the very least, and knowing, as he did, the reason behind that, Midoriya was willing to bet human experimentation, as well. The reports from the underground heroes didn’t paint any prettier a picture.

Midoriya clicked on the next file and froze when he saw that it was a video. He figured it was some kind of security camera from the quality, but, ever the paranoid soul, Midoriya still asked. Did we record this footage, Shadow?

Negative. This is surviving footage that the heroes managed to pull from the wiped harddrives found in the Yakuza’s raided base.

Did they get anyone in the raid to corroborate the footage?

Negative. By the time the heroes and police raided the facility, everyone and everything was long gone.

Midoriya grimaced. An all too common tale. He clicked play and waited as the grainy footage played back. When he saw the little girl come onto the screen, he grimaced. When he recognized Overhaul, though, his eyes narrowed. When the screaming began, Midoriya snarled.

A few heads turned in his direction, but the look on his face was enough to keep them away. When was this recovered, Shadow?

Two months ago.

Midoriya clicked on the next file, a breakdown of the quirk erasure drugs and the group’s findings. The next file contained much higher-definition footage of the same kind of thing he had just watched. He didn’t need to ask to know that this was recent footage. Midoriya’s anger peaked swiftly, violently, before he managed to bury it. The classmates that looked his way found only the careful mask that he put up, no hint of the snarl from before on his face.

Shadow. Which agency had this footage?

The Nighteye Agency.

Midoriya felt his entire body tense as vitriol threatened to crack the mask he was wearing. Phoenix, please get Athena for me. A moment later, Midoriya heard the soft chime of the A.I.'s acknowledgement protocols. Athena, send a message to the Superintendent General that I have some information he’ll find relevant in the next few days. Shadow, map the facility and start a strike plan. We’ll arrest who we arrest and kill everyone else. We aren't waiting for a perfect chance.

Two acknowledgments and then silence. Midoriya waited a long moment, seething through deep, long breaths as he read and reread the files in front of him. Phoenix.

Yes, Father? There was concern in the A.I.’s voice. While Athena was the designated combat A.I., Phoenix still had access to all of the same information, could see his vitals and the output on his implants, even if Midoriya masked it with his face and posture.

Send a message to All for One. I think it’s time we had a chat, just the two of us. When you’re finished with that… Midoriya paused for a long moment, as if to find the right wording. Find and document each and every single person complicit in this. I’m going to see them burn before we’re through.

Chapter 66: Chapter #65 | Cusp of Glory

Chapter Text

Midoriya stood outside of the waiting room with both Yaoyorozu and Kendo. Low murmuring echoed throughout the quiet halls as the dull roar of the spectator stands droned on in the distance. Midoriya handed both women a stack of papers, names at the top, events highlighted differently on each piece of paper.

“Now, I’ll explain everything when we get in there, but the only thing you two need to worry about today is giving people their schedules and, of course, your own events.”

“Shouldn’t we make sure everyone shows up for their events? We are their class representatives.” Midoriya frowned at Yaoyorozu and shook his head.

“No, it’s eight hours of events, and you’ll need every bit of your energy for your own. Besides, it's in the name. You represent them; you aren’t there to herd them like cats.” As they’d conceded the point, Midoriya stepped through the door to meet with the rest of the classes.

While technically 1-B had their own waiting area, Midoriya had selected one of the larger areas specifically so that 1-B could join its sister class for the preparations. He spared a moment to glance over the students already gathered there. Many, he noted, had turned when the three had entered and were waiting on him to speak. A quick tally in his head told him that everyone from both groups had already joined and that no one was left in the changing rooms.

The students sat or stood in varying garb. A few waited in the wetsuits they would need for the first stretch of the triathlon, while others had elected for the singlets that denoted their participation in the wrestling event a half hour into the triathlon.

“Alright, it looks like we’ve got everyone. Let’s go over a few details before we head out,” Midoriya started, glancing down at his own schedule in hand.

“We don’t have Komori or Kuroiro here yet, Midoriya.” Midoriya’s eye’s flicked up to Shiozaki, and he smiled gently. Rather than Midoriya, though, Kendo responded.

“It’s alright, Ibara. Komori got permission to withdraw from this year's competition.” Several members of both classes winced. Those in 1-A that had taken up the offer for masks grimaced. They had wanted to withdraw, as well, but hadn’t been allowed. The fact that Komori had been given permission spoke to how well she was doing.

“How is she?”

“A lot better. She just isn’t ready to use her quirk on other people again yet. She’ll be cheering everyone on from the audience this year, so keep an eye out for her! As for Kuroiro, he's been helping with her treatment. He’ll be joining us for Hide and Seek at noon with this year's guest and Snipe’s Painball at four. Otherwise, he’ll be with Komori somewhere in the insanity of this festival. Which leads us back to…”

Midoriya smiled, giving Kendo a thumbs up as she trailed off. “Yes, as she said, that leads us back to me. Now, your class presidents will be handing out copies of this year's event schedule to you. The events that you have chosen have been highlighted on it. We’re all adults. Manage your time properly and don’t be late. Do not miss lunch. There is a half hour at eleven-thirty blocked out for it. I know a few of you have back-to-back events in the midday time slots, but we are all going to be burning a lot of energy today. If for some reason you think you must miss lunch, then take one of those with you.”

Midoriya jerked a finger towards a cardboard box filled with what appeared to be some kind of snack bar. “They’re nutrient bars. They probably won’t fit your palette, since most are made with specific quirk types in mind, but they’ll fill you up and give you what you’re needing.”

“They suck.” Midoriya smirked at Ashido’s groan.

“They do indeed suck. So try for a hot meal, instead, even if you have to eat quickly. No one is going to look at you sideways for eating on the move, either. 1-A, you know our water policy when it comes to physical activity. Teach it to 1-B and grab some spare canteens.”

Most of 1-B looked around at their sister class, confused, as they nodded very seriously. A couple members of 1-A shuffled themselves around while Yaoyorozu dropped the box of spares onto one of the tables. “You’ll all find a map of the festival on the back of your schedules. Keep it with you. The layout of the campus and location of events, stalls, games, stores, etcetera changes every year, and inevitably someone will get lost trying to find their way around. Any questions so far?”

Midoriya waited for a moment as students relocated, whispering and grabbing canteens. “Alright, now, Uraraka, the faculty has authorized your legs as necessary support items. Don’t think I really need to go over why they are letting you use your proper equipment for that one. Onto the events, the teachers have gone over the basics with everyone these last couple days, but I want to make note of a few things. There are seventeen events scheduled for today. Owing to time and physical constraints, most of us are only participating in three or four events each. Several of these events are single-person events. You won’t be able to really help each other. The rest are either team events or single-person events where teamwork can be utilized.”

Uraraka whooped as she went to get her other legs from her heroic equipment. Murmuring broke out, and Midoriya nodded at a few bits that he managed to catch. “What do you mean ‘teamwork can be utilized,’ Monsieur Midoriya?”

“Isn’t that against the spirit of the activity, Midoriya?” Midoriya’s eyes flicked from Aoyama to Iida, who he found himself frowning at in exasperation.

“Guys, we’re not here to do well. That is, of course, a bonus and is expected of us, but that isn’t the purpose. From the minute we step out there, every hero in the country is going to be watching us, picking apart our actions with a fine-tooth comb. Not just for internships, but for work studies and beyond, into our careers. For the people who rely on heroes, it isn’t just games, but a symbol of the next generation, reassurance that even when this generation of heroes steps down that there is another ready to take its place.”

“That’s, uh, a lot of pressure.” Midoriya sighed and nodded towards Sero.

“It is, yeah. But my point is that the purpose of the festival isn’t necessarily to win. It’s to do your best. I’ll be honest; in a few of the events, the likelihood that any hero course student, from any of the schools here today, places first is practically nonexistent. The only person in here that stands a chance against the support students in Mechanical Bypass, for example, is Momo. Even then, I think the best that we in the hero course can hope for in that event is bronze. But again, that isn’t the purpose of hero students joining the event. Just by completing the event, you show important skills for a hero to have, thus increasing your value in the eyes of both your prospective teachers and the general public.”

“So help each other wherever we can, kero.” Midoriya snapped his fingers and gave Tsuyu a thumbs up.

“Correct. There is a reason 1-A has been training predominantly in pairs or teams. Both Nedzu and I agree that solo heroics are generally an unnecessary risk. Always keep someone by your side and always call for backup when you don’t have someone.”

“Will the professors announce whether we can help each other or not?” Midoriya shook his head in response to Tsuburaba’s question.

“They won’t need to. There isn’t any rule explicitly barring it, outside of really obvious single-person events, like Vlad’s Wrestling and All Might’s Weight Lifting.”

“Anyone else?” Once he’d confirmed that there were no more questions, he nodded and moved on. Out of the corner of his eye, Midoriya noticed a teary-eyed Toga pulling out her blood kit and adjusting Tsuyu’s arm beside her. “It’s a little over a half-mile swim. You two keep that in mind.”

“We’ve got it, kero.” Midoriya nodded and chose to let the two do their thing. They both knew what they were doing at this point.

“Hmm,” Midoriya hummed to himself. “Few more things before we walk out.” Uraraka came back with her more durable legs meant for hero work. “First up, I know it is tempting to go explore the rest of the festival. There are all sorts of things to see and experience. The games, the foods, the exhibits from the other courses, the support expo, business course offers of merchandise and analysis, etcetera. Don’t. You will inevitably miss an event if you do. For today, stick to the event areas. Tomorrow, if you get knocked out of the tournament, you can go explore. You’ll all have plenty of time throughout the rest of the week.”

A few of the students seemed to grumble, and Midoriya had to point a finger at Ashido, as she looked like she might try it, anyway. Eventually, though, they seemed to acquiesce. “Good. Dark Shadow, Tokoyami.” The bird man looked at Midoriya as Dark Shadow popped up out of his back. “Are you both going to behave for this competition?”

“I am not the one you need to ask. Instead, you should direct your question to the demon co-opting my dark form.”

“How am I supposed to cooperate with this? How?!” Midoriya rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Let me put it this way, you get banned from the festival, and there is no chance that you are being allowed to go on an internship.” More grumbling from the two. “Dark Shadow, I have three bags of unique, genetically-altered apples that I was going to leave in the common area for people to give feedback on. Cooperate with Tokoyami, and you can have all of them.”

“Oooh. Yeah, yeah. I can do that. Just mine, right?”

“Just yours. You don’t have to share.” Kaminari let out a whine about wanting to try the new kind of apples, and Dark Shadow gave him a conciliatory pat on the shoulder. Midoriya shook his head, turning away from them.

“Now, for the final tidbit, I know that those of us in 1-A have gone over this constantly the last couple days, but since the five of you are already in your wetsuits, let’s go over it one more time.”

“Uh, what are we going over?” Midoriya glanced at Monoma. The man looked a little bewildered by the attention, and Toga groaned, her voice cracking a little.

“The transition between stage one and two of the event. As soon as our feet hit dry land, our goggles go to our heads and we start stripping the wetsuits down to our waists as we move towards the bikes. Not relevant to me.”

“Good, Tsu?”

“Fully remove the hat and goggles and jog the rest of our way to the bikes. Then, when we get there, we remove the rest of the wetsuit as quickly as we can. Kero.”

“Good, Setsuna?”

“Our helmets go on and are securely latched before we put on our shoes and start biking.”

“Good. Iida, the wax seals on your engines look good?”

“Yes. As long as they blow off when I start running, such as in testing, we should be good, Midoriya. It’s much better than the plugs that we were using before.”

“Thank the support course for that. You get all of that, Monoma?”

“Goggles, strip to waist, jog, strip fully, helmet, shoes, go. Got it.”

Midoriya nodded. He’d just opened his mouth to have the class presidents begin leading everyone out when Todoroki spoke. “Midoriya.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Todoroki? Question?”

“On an objective basis, I think you’re above all of us in terms of practical strength.”

“For now, yes. Several years of experimental genetic and mechanical treatments on oneself tends to have that effect.”

“I’m going to beat you. Alone. No help.” Midoriya narrowed his eyes. Relaxing his clenched jaw, he smirked, maintaining a tone of blatant disinterest.

“Go right ahead, Todoroki.”

“Woo! That’s the spirit, Todoroki. A declaration of war! Let’s all do our best, just like that.” Todoroki clicked his tongue, his gaze steady on Kaminari as he stared him down. Kirishima and Uraraka stepped forward, forcing themselves between the two with wary movements. “Uh, guys?”

“I’m not here to play nice and make friends, Kaminari. I will be the best, and it won’t be because of any of you.” It was as if Todoroki had lit the match to a fuse as the tension ratcheted up. Kirishima and Uraraka both took a step forward as Todoroki attempted to pass Midoriya and walk out the door. Midoriya sighed, grabbing Todoroki by the front of his shirt and hauling him back into the room.

“Momo, Kendo, if you would be so kind as to escort everyone to the opening, please? I’m sure that Nedzu is already preparing to give an awful speech, as usual. Uraraka, Kirishima? Go with her.”

Todoroki glared holes into the side of Midoriya’s head as his classmates began to move. He paid it no mind, though, smiling at the students as they passed by. A comment here, a joke there, until the students had all shuffled out of the room and towards the field. All the while, he held Todoroki by the shirt. Once the door clicked shut behind the last of them, there was a long moment of silence, a pause as both sides refused to move first. Then, Todoroki opened his mouth.

He hadn’t managed a single word before Midoriya was shoving him back into one of the chairs, rather unceremoniously, pinning him there with eyes of disdain. “You know, Todoroki, you should have been removed from Class 1-A and probably the entire hero course long before this. The unwillingness to use half of your quirk could be chalked up to your trauma. We can accept that. A complete unwillingness to use your quirk, again, trauma is fine. We can get you help. Not ideal by any means, but I can at least work with it. God only knows, you don’t need a quirk to do this job. But your sheer unwillingness to work with your classmates? To not participate properly in team exercises that have gone on since we started training? That’s crossing the line.”

“I don’t need a team, Midoriya. I can do perfectly fine on my own.” Todoroki grimaced as he said it, a small, niggling part in the back of his brain insisting that he couldn’t do it. That if he could, he wouldn’t have needed saving, that Hagakure wouldn’t have been injured if he was able to do it.

“Todoroki, you are going to kill someone on our side. Maybe it’ll be a villain, and it’ll be fine. Maybe it’ll be a fellow hero or a civilian, all because of your complete unwillingness to train your quirk, to train with a partner, to take any of the outs that we have given you. Aizawa and I have only given you as much leeway because your brother begged it of us. That is over.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“I KNOW EVERYTHING. I know even more than you do about your damnedable family, but this was the last straw, Todoroki. If you can’t even work with people when your career is on the line, then I am done.”

Todoroki blinked as Midoriya stepped back towards the door, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. He turned back, his face once again impassive and disinterested, his voice calm when he spoke.

“You have two days, Todoroki, today and tomorrow. Show me some kind of improvement, something to warrant giving you a chance. Otherwise, I’m personally recommending your removal from 1-A as soon as this festival is over. You have the potential to make a damn fine hero, but not like this. I’m not going to be responsible for training the next Endeavour.”

Midoriya opened the door and walked out, the slam of it hinting at the emotion still simmering underneath his mask. Todoroki sucked in a breath and continued to stare at the place where Midoriya had stood.

…

Midoriya stalked down the concrete hallway towards the opening ceremony, silently seething as he reached up to tap below his ear.

“Dabi, it’s time to talk to your younger brother, today, preferably. I need him to show something that I can use to keep him in the hero course. He’s burnt through the last of the goodwill he’s had with his classmates. Any more of this, and he’s gonna get beaten in his sleep.”

f*ck, it’s that bad? Dabi’s voice came through a moment later.

“Yes, so get out of the damn rafters, summon up all that therapy that you’ve had, and talk to your brother.”

Chapter 67: Chapter #66 | Limber Up

Chapter Text

The five U.A students milled around their starting platform as students from the other major academies stepped up onto their own. They were already well out into the water, delivered there by boats not too long before.A number of officials, representing various schools, backgrounds, and areas of operation, floated in boats along the course that they would all take back to land.

“It does feel a bit off-putting to suddenly be competing with all these strange people.” Monoma fidgeted nervously as the others stretched on the platform.

“You shouldn’t call other people strange just because they do not go to our school, Monoma!” Iida’s fellow classmates gave him a blank side-eye as Toga tilted her head contemplatively.

“Eh, by their standards, we’re the strange ones. The top five academies get to send students to compete. That's,” Toga stopped and counted them off on her fingers, “Ketsubutsu, Shiketsu, Isamu, Seijin, and Seiai. But even still, they tend to limit it to one, two, maybe three students who will perform well at the event.” Toga gestured to the other platforms where only a handful of students awaited the starting call. “We’re the strange ones for having so many in most of our events.”

“Ah yes, well, I suppose so. It must be nice, you know.” Monoma fidgeted some more.

“What’s nice?”

“To have the perfect quirk for this. I can’t copy Tsuyu’s mutation quirk like you can.” Toga brightened, and the snort that came from her was anything but graceful.

“Oh, hell no. I wish I had the perfect quirk for this. Best I’ve got is hers for this swimming part. I’ve got nothing for the bike or running parts.” Toga groaned, making grabby finger motions at Iida. “If only your damn quirk worked with mine. You’re definitely taking second or third after the sprinting section.”

“It doesn’t? Why wouldn’t Iida take first?”

Toga shook her head in response to Monoma’s bewildered question. They had spent enough time with their sister class students since the USJ to know what kinds of quirks each other had but, unfortunately, not enough time to really understand how they functioned. It was Iida who took it upon himself to explain.

“No. Unfortunately for Toga, it does not. It would seem that not all mutation quirks can be carried over when she transforms, a mystery that I’m certain Midoriya would be happy to look into from the way he acts during our quirk testing.”

Toga gave Iida a thumbs up and a big, toothy smile. She had been doing more of that lately, she realized. Back in her last school, before she had escaped to find Midoriya, people had always run away from her when she smiled, or even hit her. But Midoriya had been right about this, at least. The hero course students didn’t seem to care. “He already is. No progress on that, sadly.”

“As for why I’m going to come in second or third, there are a few factors.” Iida began chopping his arm again, once more receiving the side-eye from those around him. “We do not know our competitors' quirks! As they were chosen for this event, it’s quite likely that their quirks are compatible to some stretch, if not in multiple ways.”

“And no one is likely to beat Setsuna.”

“She’s fast, kero.”

“I am fast.” The woman herself confirmed the statement with an exceptionally wide grin. Toga smiled back at her.

“Faster than you?” Monoma pointed at Iida with an incredulous look.

“Nah, I peak out at twenty-five on land. I could probably make it to twenty-seven, though, if I really pushed it. I’m just going to get way ahead of you guys during this first half-mile swim back to shore.” Setsuna scratched bashfully at her cheek.

“Ah, if only the last stretch was a straight way. Then I could get into sixth gear. What a shame, I might have been able to catch up.”

The wistful tone in Iida’s voice had Tsu letting out a low chuckle and replying blankly, “A straight way is your only hope of catching up with Cretaceous here, kero.”

Monoma watched the calm banter between the 1-A classmates in a kind of stupor, no hint of nervous energy between them. “And that… doesn’t bother you?”

The rest of them blinked at Monoma’s question. “That someone else is going to take first?”

“No. Why would it? It is like Midoriya said!” Iida chopped his arm. “We are here to impress the heroes and entertain the public. Our personal positions in the race hardly matter when compared to that goal. We just have to do the best that we can, simple as that.” Iida paused for a second, then scratched at the back of his head with a wry smile. “Though, I will admit that with my family in the audience today, the pressure certainly is notable.”

The low buzz of camera drones emanated out from the decks of the small vessels patrolling the waters. They all glanced over at them with a sigh. “Looks like it’s time, kero.”

The students who were stretching stood up and took positions towards the edge of the platform as Present Mic yelled, hyping the crowd up for the first event of the day. It shouldn’t have surprised them when Thirteen, the officiator for the triathlon, came over the speaker, their modulated voice reminding the athletes of the course that they would be taking, as well as the distances. A half-mile swim back to shore, a thirteen mile bike race through the city, before finally rounding out with the two and a half mile sprint back into the main arena.

Monoma rolled his shoulders as he sidled up to the edge of the platform. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Toga’s skin shift and morph. Somewhere in the back of his brain, alarms started going off, that primitive wrongness of the uncanny drilled into humanity’s primate brains. Monoma shook his head and did his best to set his reservations aside as he waited for the starting sound.

The starting pistol cracked, and he was off of the platform and into the water, sparing a moment to orient himself before moving towards the shoreline. Already ahead of him, the two Tsus blitzed through the water as if they’d been born in it. Iida, somehow, had already come up from his dive ahead of him and was swimming along while… where was…

An enormous shape torpedoed past them all, cavitating the water as it swam—thirty? forty feet?—muscle and sinew working together to push it further and faster than any of them could hope to keep up with reasonably. Vaguely, Monoma registered other forms to his left and right, some seemingly keeping pace with him, others pushing forward to keep pace with the twin Tsus.

Monoma’s head broke the water, and he sucked in a breath as he began to swim again. What the f*ck is with 1-A?

…

The students of the two classes milled around in their waiting room, passing around last minute snacks and drinks. Some watched the drones as they circled the competitors getting ready to dive into the water. Others chatted amongst themselves while they waited for the event to start or for something of substance to happen. Occasionally, Midoriya would tune into the conversations around him to see what was being said.

“The EF announced it’s legally classifying All Might as a punch wizard.”

And that’s enough listening to that conversation. Midoriya focused back on the television as the shot rang out for the competitors to begin. Students dove off in any number of ways. One young man Midoriya recognized from Shiketsu sped across the surface of the water like a slick-oiled speedboat, aided as he was by his wind. A creative application of his quirk, with flight and stage-skipping having been banned. It would be interesting to see how he applied it while on the bike. A tailwind might help him, or the prolonged usage of his quirk might just exhaust him. They’d have to see.

Nedzu had said that the man had declined his invitation to U.A. A shame. Another form he recognized only because her file had been tied to Tsu’s, Habuko Mongoose, had applied with Tsu, from the same school even, but hadn’t made it in like her classmate. Another shame. With her quirk, there hadn’t been any chance for her against robots. Another hat in the feather of Aizawa’s argument, Midoriya supposed. Or, wait, that wasn’t how that saying went, was it? Whatever.

The excitement, however, struck a half-second after everyone had hit the water with Setsuna’s transformation. Midoriya shook his head ruefully as the roaring in the stands reached even their class’ shocked students. “You know, I told her to go big and eye-catching,” the students gaped as Setsuna glided just under the water, almost faster than the drones could keep up with, “but I didn’t quite mean this. Smart move, either way, I suppose.”

“A bit overkill, though, don’t you think?” Yaoyorozu tilted her head as she tried to place the creature that her classmate had changed into.

“No, overkill would have been having the U.A. students grab on. This is eye-popping but gets the point across, I suppose. She’s going to be f*ckin hungry, though, when she gets back, especially after that sprint.”

“She did take some of the calorie bars, right?” Midoriya let his eyes flick over to Uraraka before glancing back to the screen. Setsuna was already almost back to the shore.

“Yeah, but she’s going to hate using them, which means we’ll all get to hear about it later.” There was a chorus of groans from around the room.

“What an absolutely amazing showing from our dynamic dinosaur daimyo. It’s hardly been a minute, and already she’s climbing out of the water and running towards her bike!” The classes groaned again. It was bad enough hearing Present Mic’s announcing in their classes—he taught like this, for god’s sake—but most were already dreading what he would come up with for them.

“Since when could Setsuna do something like that?!” The question was repeated a few times across 1-B, but each time, the same dry response, since she joined 1-A, echoed back at them. It had started a few squawking arguments, but they were all in good fun, it seemed, so Midoriya left it at that.

“Don’t quirks kind of defeat the purpose of a triathlon?” Kaminari shook his head as he watched several students plow forward through the water.

“Probably,” Sero said easily, “but this isn’t a normal triathlon. It has students from all sorts of courses, all of which are attending from famous heroics universities. This is probably the only time where students get to cut loose like this.”

“A good point indeed, Sero. It isn’t really expected that your average students will keep up with the heroics students, and in fact, they aren’t even ranked the same way, unless one of them does manage to keep up. Most of our classmates and competitors will probably finish in somewhere around an hour, give or take ten or twenty. But the normal students who were training just to enjoy the event will likely trickle in over the next two hours, if they finish at all. I’d say about five percent will give up, so not many, but some.”

Sero smiled and gave Yaoyorozu a thumbs up. Midoriya glanced at the clock, sighing before turning around in his singlet. He had waited until they’d come back from the opening ceremony to change into it. As expected, the damn rat had spoken for the entire time allotted. There had been an hour spent sitting in mildly uncomfortable seating, staring up at the stage as his teacher gave a dull and, surprisingly, only mildly reused speech from years past.

“Alright, everyone. You’ve got your lists, but since we’re all here, I’ll call out for you. Kirishima, Mezo, Sero, Tokoyami, Sato, and Tetsutetsu, we’ve got wrestling in less than thirty. I’m heading over now. Anyone that is unsure of the way to get out of this damn rat maze of tunnels in the right direction is welcome to follow me.”

Several students glanced over at Midoriya before moving their gazes up and down his form with startled, obvious attention. Most had the decency to either blush and look away or to look back up at his face. Midoriya sighed as he noted four people for whom decency had not yet occurred to.

“Isn’t there anything else we can wear, Midoriya? These are, um, wildly uncomfortable.”

Midoriya stared evenly at Sero. “Sure, you're welcome to wear baggier clothing. There’s no rule against it, though you will get thrown across the room by the aforementioned clothing, so take the advantages with the disadvantages.” The group of men winced, then uniformly stood and shuffled their way towards him. With the action came more stares, more blushing, and less decency on their classmates’ part. Midoriya couldn’t help but sigh again.

“Look, just be glad that Nedzu hasn’t decided to say f*ck the legalities and return wrestling to its Ancient Greek roots for his own amusem*nt.”

“I think the singlets are manly!”

“Do I even want to know what that entailed, Midoriya?” Midoriya let a small smirk creep onto his face as he stared Shinso dead in the eyes.

“Naked, and soaked in oil.” The wolf whistle from Ashido had Kirishima going the way of his hair. The peculiar shade of red, as well as Ashido’s continued and creative badgering,had Midoriya amused, as well, even if he wouldn’t show it. Shame had been drilled out of him decades ago.

“Yeah, uh, let’s stick with the singlets.” Midoriya snorted in response to Tetsutetsu before turning towards the door.

“Alright, everyone. Let's get this over with so we can change. There are only a couple billion people watching, after all.”

Chapter 68: Chapter #67 | Past Is Prologue

Chapter Text

Midoriya rolled his shoulders as he stepped out into the wide-open area U.A. had designated for Sekijiro’s wrestling event. The students behind him shuffled forward as the crowd roared loud enough to make Midoriya close his right eye with a wince.

Down below the students, rivers of concrete and wood seemed to undulate around and around, the grass covered quickly by rising stages and perfect circles of smooth wooden rings, purposely grown by Ishiyama’s assistant. Gesturing to the participant bleachers, Midoriya wandered over to where the professors were talking amongst themselves.

Sekijiro flicked his eyes over him, saying something to the other heroes in the area before raising his voice to be heard by Midoriya. “Everyone here?”

“Yeah, A and B are taking their seats to wait for their matches to be called. We passed by a couple of the other schools making their way out here, so hopefully we’ll have everyone when you’re ready to start.”

“Good. The refs are raring to see what you kids have got. Wrestling with quirks is a rare treat for them. You guys are checked in. Go ahead back to the stands.” Midoriya popped a thumbs up, his enthusiasm mild but genuine. He’d turned to head back when Kamui Woods fell into step alongside him.

They were several paces toward the stands before the man spoke. “I wanted to thank you for what you said back then.” Midoriya stopped in place, turning a confused and almost surprised look on the pro hero.

“What I said?” The confusion persisted as Midoriya, face twisted in thought, searched for any time in which he had spoken about Kamui Woods. “Are you referring to when I publicly shamed you to the reporters? Why the hell-”

The man raised a hand to cut him off. “Yeah, I am. Those of us there that day took it a few ways. Backdraft was surprised that someone called us out but didn’t weigh in on it since you’d complimented him. Yu, well, she took it as a bit of a backhanded compliment.”

“I meant it as one.” Kamui winced.

“Perhaps we not tell her that. Death Arms brushed it off, deciding you were just a pissy little quirkless runt.”

“Not shocking, since he managed to get me shot before that.” Kamui froze, his jaw tightening.

“Yeah, I wish I could say that one was surprising.”

“Shouldn’t be.” Kamui blinked at the distaste dripping from Midoriya’s words, despite the carefully neutral expression he wore.

“Right, well, I took it a bit harder than the others. You had the court of public opinion nearly crucifying us with your statements. It was an easy story, and oh boy did they run with it.” The man reached up under his mask, scratching his face before letting the hand drop back to his side. He stared at some point behind Midoriya for a moment before continuing to speak.

“I went back home for a while, patrolled there for a bit. Amami is rather peaceful. It’s why I came all the way to the city in the first place. I spent some time there, just,” he gestured vaguely, ”helping, I guess. There wasn’t that much crime, really, so it was a lot of menial tasks. A lot more connecting with the people I was supposed to be protecting.”

Midoriya shuffled awkwardly in place as the man spoke. He hadn’t intended any of that. It had been pure spite at that moment and nothing more. He didn’t want to be thanked for nearly ruining a man's career.

“Went back to my alma mater for a while after that. They were more than happy to bring me on as a teacher for a semester. Field experience is hard to come by, after all, especially for smaller schools outside the big ones.” Kamui gestured around him to the students gathering in the stands. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but the kids, their perspectives on heroism… I don’t know. I guess I understand Eraserhead’s reputation a bit better now. So thanks, I suppose. Sometimes, even heroes need a swift kick in the ass.”

“You see, when I was growing up…” Midoriya clenched his jaw in a smile and resigned himself to listening to this, too.

…

“Ha. Look at that, Toko, Midoriya’s been sidelined.” Tokoyami and Shoji both glanced over to where Dark Shadow was pointing out from the huddle that they had formed. The look on Midoriya’s face was even, unassuming to anyone that hadn’t spent the last few months being trained into the ground by him, or that hadn’t spent the same amount of time taking classes alongside him. To the students of 1-A, it appeared more like he was sucking on a lemon.

“What the hell caused that expression?” Sero’s eyebrows nearly shot off his forehead. The prospect of something that could goad a reaction from his seemingly unflappable classmate almost made him want to sneak over and listen in. They had seen a fairly wide range of emotions from the man, but utterly strained constipation was a new one.

“I don’t know, but I kind of want to know. Don’t you?” Shoji’s response to Sero had Kirishima shaking his head.

“As much as I’d love to, if one of us goes over there right now? Midoriya’s vindictive enough to use us as a scapegoat to get away. Do you want to be waylaid by a lecture, even if it’s from a pro, until your match?”

“I don’t think he’s getting a lecture. Somehow, Kamui Woods looks like one of those old grandparents that will talk your ear off until they dissipate into dust. I get your point, though.” Sato snorted at the joke, then paused, seemingly horrified at his own action.

“Baaack to what we were discussing. Does anyone have any idea who these people are?” Tetsutetsu glanced up again at the large screen attached to an even larger drone floating along throughout the stadium. The match bracket was displayed clearly for the audience to see. “What the hell’d Midoriya do to get seeded into the second round of matches, anyway?”

“I imagine it was a combination of that,” Shoji pointed a blank stare towards Midoriya, who was beginning to glare balefully across the platforms at Vlad King in a silent attempt to garner aid. Vlad King offered him a woefully insufficient thumbs up before turning back to the pro he’d been talking to. “And the fact that he weighs more than all of us combined. It took three of us to lift him off his feet in training. The lack of weight classes causes problems, but the inclusion of quirks minimizes it. There is no minimizing Midoriya’s weight.”

“He looks rather thin to me,” Sato said, confused. “I mean, he’s a giant. Six-two? Six-three? And he’s jacked.” A muttered, tell me about it, came from Dark Shadow. “But it took three of you?”

Sero shrugged. “We asked him about it, and he said it had to do with the density of the muscle, rather than the size of it. Apparently, he’s just f*cked if you toss him in water. It’s why he’s avoiding the water events.”

The silence following that statement was broken by Tokoyami, who brought the conversation back around again with a noise of realization. “I do know that name.” Tokoyami pointed at the board. “Kawata Moriko, your opponent, Sato. Midoriya mentioned to us that they might be able to provide some insight into our recent troubles while they are here. Companion quirks such as my demon aren’t common, after all.” The malevolent look sent from Dark Shadow to Tokoyami had the other five tensing up. Dark Shadow clicked his beak and muttered to himself about apples.

“So watch out for…?”

“Ah, yes. I’m not really sure. Midoriya called it their ‘spirit companion,’ but that could mean anything.”

“Midoriya could have simply been leaning into Toko’s chunibyo.” It was Tokoyami’s turn to glare at his ever-present consort.

“So watch out for something like Dark Shadow and somehow win in a two-on-one. Easy.” Kirishima blinked at Sato’s obvious anxiety. When he glanced back to his classmates, he noted their apparent confusion.

“Uh, yeah, sounds great. Just like we’ve been training for, right?”

Tetsutetsu and Sato stared back at Kirishima, espressions blank. “What?”

“You know, the weeks of hand-to-hand training that we’ve been getting?” The students continued to stare, and Kirishima shifted uncomfortably under the weight of their attention. With a squawk of protest, a stuttered, undignified response came from Tetsutetsu.

“You- you guys have been getting hand-to-hand training? Like- like, specifically hand-to-hand training? We’ve just been running combat scenarios for weeks.”

“Uh, sure. One-on-one, one-on-two, two-on-two. It’s basically been our entire routine since the semester started. Or, well actually, after…” Sero trailed off, his eyes widening as Shoji and Kirishima blinked. Shoji let out a string of expletives as Kirishima’s mouth dropped open in understanding.

“Son of a bitch. Ever since Midoriya and Aizawa took over our hero course classes.”

Kirishima understood the expectant looks on the 1-B students' faces as silent requests for elaboration, so he began to do so, awkwardly. “Uh, well, our first day of hero classes was a disaster. All Might let a dude in our class have support items that evidently never should have been signed off on, ended up nearly killing a couple of our classmates.”

The surprised frowns on their faces spoke wonders. This was clearly the first they were hearing of this. Kirishima continued, “So that dude got removed from the hero course. Last I heard, he was bumped back down to general education, so he’s probably, well, somewhere here.” Kirishima waved his hand to indicate the festival. “After that, our schedule was done through our homeroom teacher and Midoriya. Or, well, I guess technically Nedzu, since Midoriya is the president's student.”

“So that’s what’s with that fancy black and gold uniform Midoriya wears in classes. The one with the shoulder tassels.” Sato blinked. “The president himself plans your classes? That’s cool.”

Sero shrugged, his face scrunched. “See, that’s the thing. We’re not really sure who is supposed to be teaching the class. Aizawa’s great and all. God knows, after what he did for us back at the USJ, he deserves the respect, but Midoriya seems to be teaching as much as he is.”

“That kind of makes sense with his special forces background, whatever is going on with that.” Tetsutetsu was biting his lip, his brows furrowed as he thought about that. Sero sucked air in through his cheeks in a quick, popping kind of grimace.

“Yeah, I suppose, in retrospect, it explains it. I still don’t like him. He rubs me the wrong way, just something about him, but I don’t think any of us can deny that he knows how to fight. Still, our first couple of weeks were just conditioning with some kind of weird water or juice mixture thing. We basically just worked on fighting after that. Like Kirishima said, one-on-one, one-on-two, two-on-two. We spent a bit of time learning to integrate our quirks when we started coming up on the sports festival, and some scenario training. But it’s mostly just basic skill training, as if… son of a bitch.” Sero’s eyes grew wide as he echoed Shoji’s realization a moment before.

“What?” Kirishima looked between Shoji and Sero, the two of whom were sharing a dark expression. Shoji responded after a moment.

“It’s like Midoriya said all the way back when Setsuna joined the class and we found out about the coursework switch. They are training us as soldiers. Everything so far has been boot camp. Efficient training is the name of the game, and what better way to show how much more efficient the training has been than to have a control group. What better place to show the differences than on a national stage?”

“Nooo,” Kirishima dragged the word out nervously. “They wouldn’t do that, would they? They wouldn’t just use 1-B to gauge how effective our training is, right?”

“We absolutely would. But in this case, it’s just a nice bonus. 1-B is being trained how U.A. has always trained heroes, which, might I remind you, is exceedingly well, looking at their alumni.” The men had all nearly startled out of their skin, spinning to find Midoriya standing directly behind them. He must have finally gotten away from Kamui Woods with the matches rapidly approaching. “They are also getting the opportunity to absorb what, seemingly little, wisdom the number one hero has in his brain. Just because I despise the man doesn’t mean he hasn’t been incredibly effective. If they are the control group, then so is every single hero that came before them.”

Midoriya’s classmates did at least have the wherewithal to appear admonished as they stared down at their feet. Midoriya glanced over to the refs taking up their positions and then up at the timer lazily gliding along on the drones. “That being said, I suppose I should amend that statement a bit, Sero. We aren’t just training you to be soldiers. We’re training you to be everything. Soldiers, medics, firefighters, emergency responders. The question that is going to be asked at the end of it all is what your retention is and, of course, what you decide to do with it.”

“If that training just so happened to provide everyone with the skills that they would need for a first foray on the public stage, which takes place far too soon for the first years, in my opinion, it could absolutely be by accident. And if the class I was helping teach just so happened to have actual, practical skills to advertise and take into an internship, then even better. Wouldn’t that be a wonderful coincidence compared to normal heroics lessons?” Even as Midoriya said the words, his own classmates knew with absolute certainty that it wasn’t an accident.

“That is so manly!” Midoriya jerked. He had Kirishima in his line of sight, and that hadn’t come from him, so where had it…

Tetsutetsu was practically gleaming as he stood, knees bent, two fists out in front of him, and with a gigantic smile on his face. “Come on, man, you gotta let us get in on some of that. You can’t just hoard all the skill training to yourselves.” Midoriya quirked an eyebrow as he realized in muted horror that there were two of them now.

“First off, we’re not hoarding skill training. You guys just haven’t reached it in your lesson plans with All Might.” The unspoken insult hung in the air. “As for changes to your guys' lesson plans, you’ll have to take that up with your teacher,” Midoriya pointed at Vlad as he finished his statement, “after the festival is over.”

“That doesn’t mean that we can’t work out together after classes, though, bro.” Midoriya could have sworn that Kirishima had not been standing there a second earlier. He also noted, continuing to be mildly horrified, that Kirishima was now also standing in the same position as Tetsutetsu.

“Bro.”

“Bro!”

Gods help him to get through this. Midoriya took a deep breath and snapped his fingers a couple of times to get everyone's attention. “Alright, that’s enough of that. Let’s focus up.” The students registered the roar of the audience again for the first time in quite a while, a count down to the beginning of their event. “This first match is going to be an interesting one. Quirks are a fabric manipulation quirk from Shiketsu and some kind of cartoon hole quirk from Seiai.”

Sato leaned over to Shoji as a bead of sweat dripped down his face. “Does he always know about everyone?”

Shoji smirked behind his mask. “I’m pretty sure Midoriya could tell you what color underwear the prime minister is wearing right now.”

Midoriya smirked at the whispered conversation and decided to indulge himself a little bit. “Black with gray checkers.” Possibly. Who really knew? But the look of abject horror on Sato’s face made it a bit sweeter.

Chapter 69: Chapter #68 | Hints Of What Is To Come

Chapter Text

Sato winced almost as soon as the match started. The Shiketsu student with the fabric quirk had dived immediately for the legs of the student from Seiai. Seiai, evidently having anticipated something of the sort, brought his hand up, creating some kind of dark, two-dimensional hole in front of himself. Shiketsu stepped through the hole and ran face-first into the ground as a second hole appeared horizontally from Seiai’s other hand.

Midoriya grimaced. That student will get picked up by the government by the end of this. Hopefully, he accepts whatever contract they offer him. Seiai pounced on Shiketsu’s back, attempting to get the three points of contact necessary to put an end to the match. They met their mark, but the student rapidly found that the ground impact hadn’t stunned his quarry for the duration he had hoped. A brief scramble ensued on the ground before, finally, the ref called for a reset.

The seven waiting students all glanced up at the closest drone at precisely the same moment, all of them reading the scores as the crowd roared behind them. They glanced back down at the two wrestlers. Shiketsu had successfully dodged around the cartoonish black hole and had used the momentum of his body to barrel into Seiai, slamming him onto the floor as he attempted a pin.

Seiai formed a second set of portals, one below them and the other above the horizontal one that he had set out before. They dropped through one, into the next, and were spit tumbling out of the original first portal. The impact broke the two apart, but when they made to stand, Shiketsu grinned. Evidently, the contact duration had been enough to activate his own quirk, as Seiai remained glued to the ground as his own singlet pulled at him in the opposite direction to where he was attempting to go.

The round was called, and once again, the seven students glanced up at the drones puttering along above them like ad blimps of old. Close match so far, but with what was shown already, both students would have to be careful, both of each other and of revealing whatever cards they still had up their sleeves.

“I’ll be honest, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I signed up for wrestling. I thought it would be more focused on the… well, wrestling.”

“Yeah, this is manly and all, but it seems more focused on the quirks than it does the wrestling.” Midoriya let his eyes flick from Tetsutetsu, the first speaker, to Kirishima, the second.

“Well, yes. This is more quirk wrestling than it is proper ‘wrestling.’” Midoriya made air quotes with his hands, absently turning to watch the last bit of the match. “They aren’t outright fights. Tomorrow's tournament will fill that role. But grappling takes many forms, and you can use whatever you need, quirks included. You’re just looking to pin your opponent, even with your quirk. Hence, quirk wrestling, even if it isn’t technically an official type of wrestling.”

The two students turned away from Midoriya just in time to witness Shiketsu’s contender grab ahold of Seiai’s leg, wrenching it out from underneath him and slamming him back-first into the ground. A near repeat of the earlier scene played out with a hole half-forming underneath his back. The student from Shiketsu picked Seiai up and slammed him down again.

…

Sero stretched as he stepped up onto the stage. The guy with the fabric quirk had just managed to beat out his competitor but not before giving Sero a few ideas of his own. He rolled his shoulders as he watched his opponent. He could have asked Midoriya what quirk his opposition would have but had decided against it for the sake of… actually, in retrospect, he probably should have just asked. Aizawa would say something like ‘gathering information is a skill unto itself’ before Midoriya gave him that impassive stare of his.

Vaguely, Sero heard Present Mic announcing the match. His opponent's name, evidently, was Maita Ken from Isamu. Didn’t really help him much. Healthy and strong weren’t exactly descriptors that might have led him to a clue. No visible mutations or clear signs of an emitter. On some level, Sero registered the surprise from the crowd when he was introduced by his hero name, rather than his actual name, a measure that was going to become commonplace this year. Albeit, the reason wouldn’t become terribly well known to the general public. Sero also made a special note to file a complaint regarding Mic’s announcement. Really creepy elbows was just uncalled for.

Silently, Sero squared off with his opponent, knees bent and arms out as the whistle blew and the two began to circle one another. Maita charged, and Sero blinked. Before he even really thought about what he was doing, he stepped into Maita, catching his right arm, stepping between his legs, and twisting, bringing Maita's chest first to the ground. Sero blinked again as he found himself with a knee on the young man's back, his arm twisted up and behind his head.

Maita swore under him, hissing under his breath as his shoulder was stretched past the point of comfort. “Uh…” Sero trailed off, unaided by anyone or anything as the whistle blew for reset and he stepped up and away.

…

Midoriya couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that crept up onto his face. He hid it with the palm of his right hand, his fingers splayed across his cheek. Of course, this did nothing to disguise the low snort of amusem*nt that slipped out. His schoolmates looked over at him in surprise. Their attention, though, was divided, shocked as they were by what they’d just witnessed.

“Uh, Midoriya? What just happened?” Tetsutetsu formed his words slowly, as if, were he to speak any faster or look away from the resetting opponents, what had just happened would simply vanish from the collective consciousness.

“Sero pinned him. Seems pretty straightforward to me.”

“No, no, I get that. But, uh, how? Even Sero seemed surprised.”

“Muscle memory. How many times have you hit the floor from charging directly at someone, Kirishima?” The man in question groaned, rolling his neck reflexively.

“Too many times before I realized that no one was going to fall for it anymore.”

“That does-” The crowd went wild again, even as Tetsutetsu stopped talking. Sero had pinned his opponent a second time. No, it hadn't been a repeat of the first round; instead, Midoriya had watched as Sero stepped into the man, anticipating him to be looking for the sidestep. The yelling from the audience had been the clear result of Sero leveraging the man clear over his shoulder and onto the floor, flat on his back. Of course, given a clear shot, Maita had immediately gone for Sero’s legs, only to run into a strip of tape stretched from the ground, between his legs, and up over his shoulder, delaying him long enough for the second and third pieces of tape to stick him to the ground.

“Midoriya.” Midoriya let his eyes flick to the side at Sato’s uneasy pronunciation of his name.

“Sato.”

“That’s two different styles of takedowns from two different schools. What exactly were you guys taught?”

“Mmm. A little bit of this, a little bit of that. Technically speaking, what is being taught is an eclectic mix of all sorts of styles.”

“Ah… is that so?” A noncommittal noise came from Midoriya as he watched the match play out after the second reset. Midoriya sighed, because he saw it coming a second before the audience did.

…

Sero couldn’t stop smiling. Two resets down and time was almost up. Maita stepped forward, wary of any more of Sero’s ‘tricks.’ They weren’t tricks, just grappling techniques drilled into Class 1-A through hours of repetition. But Maita didn’t know that much. In and out, the two darted at each other, hands searching for purchase, for grip on the other. Time and time again, Maita had to peel Sero’s tape away from his arms and legs while keeping out of the other man’s reach, its consistency closer to rubber than that of normal tape.

A warning was called on Sero for not attacking just as he darted down at Maita’s legs. Maita stepped back, expecting the grapple attempt to go for his knees, only for Sero to dart back up and quickly step past him, adhering tape to his chest. With a lurching sensation, Maita felt his weight leave the ground as Sero used his purchase to attempt to fling the large man now a step behind him.

Maita grimaced and finally used his quirk, ripping through the tape with the sheer force that he pushed outwards. He twisted mid-air, grabbing onto Sero’s shoulders after the short lurching hop that was the fling attempt. The moment Maita’s feet touched the ground in front of Sero, Maita wrapped his arms around Sero’s chest and threw himself back into the arch.

…

Kirishima winced as the crunching sound of Sero’s shoulders hitting the mat sounded across the field. The reset whistle was called, and Sero groaned audibly as he struggled to stand back up. Shoji just shook his head. The damned fool had tried to get fancy with it, and after that showing, he’d be lucky if he didn’t get bonus training from Aizawa. Considering their teacher's preeminent weapon, the poorly executed fling was bound to draw his ire.

…

Sero stumbled to his feet, seeing stars. The reset whistle had been blown, certainly, or, at least, Sero hoped that was the reset whistle that he had heard, but when he turned with his hands up to continue, he was forced to blink. Maita was lying on the ground, laughing like a lunatic.

“Damn, good match, Flex! I apologize, but I’m going to have to concede after that.” At his words, Sero relaxed minutely, wandering over to stand near his opponent. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had attacked him while they were ‘down.’ When Sero made it over to the man, he really did seem to be pleased with this outcome. “I hadn’t expected it to take quite so much of my strength to tear through your tape. Seriously, what is that stuff made out of?”

In the corner of Sero’s eye, he saw several of the robots from their training jogging over with a stretcher. “Uh, I’m not really sure. It’s influenced by my diet. The consistency and stickiness, that is.” Maita just laughed some more.

“I need to get myself some of what you’re having, then.”

“You need help up?”

“Nah, I wouldn’t be able to stand right now, anyway. Thanks, though.”

“Riiight.” Sero waited while the robots came the rest of the way over. Gently, they shifted Maita over to the stretcher that they had brought. Vlad had wandered over with them, and he nudged Sero in the shoulder, gesturing back to his classmates.

“You win, though I don’t think I need to point that out. He would have gotten called on that last move, even if he could move. Recovery Girl said to have Midoriya check you for signs of a concussion before you sit down, though. You hit pretty hard at the end there.” Sero gave the professor a nod and a slight bow before heading back towards the seating. Midoriya was already waiting for him with a smirk and congratulations on his victory.

“Now, onto a couple of quick questions. Headache or pressure?”

“Nope.”

“Nausea?” Midoriya reached down under his seat, pulling out a small canvas bag and beginning to rummage through it. He set aside his own canteen and a few other items before he seemed to find what he was looking for.

“Negative.”

“Dizziness, double or blurry vision?”

“Just after I got hit. I’m good now.” Midoriya nodded, then held up the item in his hand for Sero to see. It was a small penlight, which he clicked on before sweeping the beam over the edge of Sero’s eye, slowly tracking inward and watching the pupillary reaction.

“Two, four, eight, sixteen, thirty-two, sixty-four…” Midoriya trailed off, gesturing for Sero to pick it up.

“One-hundred and twenty-eight, two-fifty-six, five-twelve.” Midoriya nodded, clicking off the penlight and sticking it back into the canvas bag.

“Look all good to me. Do speak up if that starts to change, though.” Sero offered the man a big thumbs up, then sat back down with a sigh.

“By the way, Midoriya, what was Maita’s quirk?”

“Hmm?” Midoriya looked confused for a fraction of a second. “Ah, no, that's his name. I’m sorry, I was just thinking of him by his quirk’s name. I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out. It’s called ‘Overdrive.’ Lets him push his physical capabilities beyond their limits for a short period of time. It's how he ripped your tape apart.”

“Ah, speaking of which, my tape is way stronger than it used to be. All that conditioning really seems to have paid off.”

“Seems that way.” Midoriya gave him a noncommittal half-response as Sero let his mind wander away from the conversation. He noted that Tokoyami was already walking toward the stage. Unless the opponent had some kind of crazy quirk, Tokoyami was a shoo-in for this round. Sero glanced up at the tournament bracket lazily floating along above their heads and groaned. Good god, that means I have to wrestle f*cking Tokoyami.

Chapter 70: Chapter #69 | Give It Up

Chapter Text

Tokoyami breathed as he stepped onto the stage. Yamaoka Takao was a plain man. Or, he would have been, if he’d been born outside of Asia and in a world without quirks. As it stood, the golden brown hair and vaguely European features made him stand out amongst the contestants here in Japan.

Both young men raised their hands as Present Mic prattled on above their heads, introducing the new contestants before pausing for the signal whistle. It blew, and Tokoyami stepped forward, hard and fast, as he blitzed the young man. Midoriya had filled Tokoyami in on Yamaoka’s quirk. Rather than give him time to make use of it, Tokoyami had decided to take the first round quickly.

Yamaoka’s eyes went wide as Tokoyami rapidly stepped inside his arms and, tucking himself into Yamaoka’s chest, grabbed his right arm. Tokoyami swept his opponent's leg with his own before placing all of his weight into Yamaoka’s compromised footing. Both men went down hard. Yamaoka’s back hit the mat first, driving some air out of him before Tokoyami’s full weight slammed shoulder-first into his chest, removing the rest of the air from his lungs.

A quick twist from strong, well-toned arms and Yamaoka found himself flipped and pinned, face pushed into the squishy ground. Seconds was all it had taken before the reset whistle sounded again. The audience screeched, causing the hero students with sensitive hearing to wince throughout the stadium. Sero held his head in his hands, any hope that he wouldn’t have to wrestle the birdman slipping away with the cheers.

As they stood, readying themselves for the next round, Yamaoka raised his hands again, eyes hardened. Tokoyami sighed as he resigned himself to what was about to happen. He raised his arms, but even as he stepped forward, Tokoyami felt as if he were suddenly encased in concrete. He could move, so it wasn’t as absolute as he had believed from the description Midoriya had given him, but it was a struggle to do so, It burnt in the muscles and reminded Tokoyami of trying to lift several times the weight you were capable of lifting.

Yamaoka kept one hand pointed at Tokoyami as he stepped forward, his chest heaving a sigh of relief. Quickly, he reached for Tokoyami with his other hand.

Midoriya shook his head as he murmured, “There went his guard.”

“Uh oh,” Kirishima muttered.

“This is gonna hurt.” Mezo echoed him.

“What do you mea-” Tetsutestu stopped,wincing as Dark Shadow seemingly materialized low to the ground and grabbed Takao by the leg.

Dark Shadow, to their credit, was rather gentle about it. Or, about as gentle as Dark Shadow ever was in training, which was to say that Dark Shadow had slung the poor man over their head, ankle still caught firmly in his grasp, before slamming him back into the ground.

“Yamaoka Takao, quirk name: Force. He can manipulate anything within the clear range of his vision, telekinetically. The caveat is that it doesn’t work on other quirks.” Sato winced when Tokoyami, now released from the quirk by Dark Shadow, placed his knee in Yamaoka’s back.

“So this was the worst possible match-up for the guy.”

“Yup,” Midoriya said, giving a small pop to the word, the utter disinterest in his tone relaying how he believed the rest of this match would go.

…

Kirishima grinned as he stepped up to his opponent. Watching the last couple of bouts had gotten his blood boiling. He wasn’t really sure how or where he might use his quirk for this, but he was certain that he was ready to show off what they’d been learning, or, he considered for a moment, more of what they had been learning. Sero and Tokoyami had both demonstrated pretty well that 1-A had grappling skills. Now, all he had to do was not f*ck up.

Present Mic was currently in the process of introducing the two contestants once more, using his inherent charisma and enthusiasm to whip the crowd up into a frenzy of excitement. “... so! Will class 1-A take yet another victory? Or will Shiketsu break their streak and get their second win on the board? We…”

Kirishima tuned him out as he focused on his opponent. He’d asked Midoriya for quirk information, just like Tokoyami had. Strangely enough, though, Midoriya had only grimaced, his gaze panning over to Kirishima’s opponent with a dead-eyed stare. He still wasn’t entirely sure what kind of advice “prepare yourself for a bit of body horror” was. Still, Kirishima wasn’t going to chicken out because of a little horror.

But, as he squared up with his opponent, Kirishima wondered what flavor of horror he was about to be subjected to. Something like Dark Shadow? Kirishima shuddered mentally at that thought. Normally, touching Dark Shadow felt no different from petting a bird. How that was possible, he had no idea. But when it was fighting with them? It felt wrong, like the ghosting of feathers and the pure distillation of wrong. It lit up every nerve and woke up alarm centers in the brain that Kirishima hadn’t even known he’d had.

Barring that, he wondered if it were something more akin to the ghost girl in their sister class. Perhaps, even still, it was closer to Mezo. The class had only heard rumors of his private training with Midoriya, but they all knew from what he’d told them that he absolutely shouldn’t do it with civilians around. And there was that word again. It frustrated Kirishima a bit that he couldn’t exactly identify when normal people had become civilians, and they had bec-

The whistle blew, and all other thoughts left Kirishima, leaving nothing except his opponent in front of him. The first thought that Kirishima had was one of surprise. The man in front of him was, at the very least, as strong and as fast as his classmates. The second one was that the man had the same style of grappling that Setsuna had used before she’d been taught better. Kirishima sidestepped the lunge, wrapping his hands around one of his opponent’s sizeable, he noted, forearms.

Kirishima pulled before twisting as the man moved past him, flinging him towards the outer edge of the ring. Kirishima heard the pop, and he grimaced before his brain could fully comprehend what that sound had entailed. “You alri-?” He wasn’t even able to fully get the question out before Inouye Yoshio was heaving himself back at Kirishima.

The man was grinning as he yelled back, “I’m doing great, Red Riot!” Kirishima caught his opponent's hands with his own and clamped down. “Let’s get really interesting now.” Kirishima felt the pressure on his wrists begin to mount as both sides put their all into overpowering the other. The amount of strength the smaller man could put out was absolutely shocking to Kirishima, and if he’d still been as strong as when the semester had first begun, he’d probably have been overpowered. It was around the time Kirishima was debating pulling out of the stalemate and getting the match on with that he heard another series of pops and a crack.

Kirishima’s head snapped to the sound, and he felt like gagging as he realized it was coming from Inouye’s arms. Muscle fibers twitched and popped, and muscles snapped and writhed back into place under the man's skin. “Huuk.” The retching gag that worked its way out of Kirishima made Inouye laugh. Kirishima’s face twisted in mounting horror as the grip itself seemed to wane and wax. Having had enough of that, Kirishima forced both pairs of arms outward before releasing and slamming into Inouye’s chest.

…

Kirishima sat with his head between his legs as his gag reflex warred with his willpower. Midoriya rubbed his back slowly. Kirishima had ultimately won the bout. The man with the pain blocker quirk had a healthy amount of regeneration capability baked into the quirk. But just because he could match Kirishima for strength didn’t mean that he had the technique to take him in the match. Kirishima had fought him down to the timer, but in the process, his opponent had turned into a fleshy bowl of rice krispies.

A shudder ran through Kirishima, and Midoriya grimaced. He could empathize. It had taken him years to really get used to body horror bullsh*t. The other students watched Tetsutetsu attempt to siege down his opponent in much the same way Kirishima had in the previous round.

Unfortunately for him, his opponent had no interest in a contest of strength. Matsumura Kasumi darted in and out of Tetsutetsu’s guard, looking for an opportunity to,it seemed to the audience, lock him at his joints. Midoriya knew the woman's quirk, however. He had put her on a watchlist, in fact, just in case she didn’t get it under control and still tried to pursue heroics. Luckily for both of them, Isamu had taught her temperature control well.

Tetsutetsu overextended on a single grab, and Matsumura found her opportunity. Her hands reached out, pulling a thin strand, maybe an inch across, of blue silk from the ether. She wrapped it around Tetsutetsu’s elbow while stepping forward and, pulling her foot back from behind his, brought him hard to the ground. She stuck the strip of silk to the mat and backed up easily out of reach. The location where the silk met the mat was crunchy with a sudden thick frost.

Tetsutetsu, attempting to sit up, found himself stuck by the silk to the ground. He turned his body for the briefest of moments, and she was on him again. This time, she bound an ankle to his throat and the other ankle to the opposite arm. Tetsutetsu yelped at the touch of the silk, instinctively activating his quirk and turning gray, which, from the yelp that followed, somehow made the entire situation worse.

The whistle was blown, and the silk immediately released Tetsutetsu, causing the large man to flop as the tension dropped. Midoriya narrowed his eyes at the silk’s seeming ability to release on its own. Some kind of latent fabric quirk? Why silk? Why the temperature manipulation with silk? Maybe some kind of mythological or story quirk? Needs checked out, either way. Phoenix. A small chime in his ears. Mark down Matsumura Kasumi for another look. Something doesn’t pass the examination there, not with what we currently know. Frigid silk doesn’t even begin to cover that quirk.

Another round passed fairly quickly between the two, ending nearly the same way, but Tetsutetsu managed to surprise Matsumura this time. The timing of her dipping into him was off, and quickly she found herself bound up on the ground by the sheer weight of the steel man. Another reset whistle and a wince as Tetsutetsu slapped silk strips off of his skin.

…

Midoriya tilted Tetsutetsu’s head, a hand holding his jaw, one side to the other before ordering him to turn. He examined his legs and arms next, humming at a couple of spots on Tetsutetsu’s wrist. “For the most part, it just looks like frostnip, but head to Recovery Girl, all the same. I don’t like a few of the patches on your wrist. The strand she stuck on you when you surprised her was probably a bit too cold.”

“I can’t believe I broke our streak like that.” The large man pouted like a child. It would have been almost cute on someone smaller. Unfortunately, he was not smaller.

“Don’t do yourself or your opponent the disservice of that thought. You both did your best without being able to outright strike at each other. Now, Recovery Girl, go.” Midoriya poked him in the direction of her office before turning back to the bleachers. Mezo was rolling his neck, staring lightly at Midoriya.

“Anything I need to know?”

“Five-point quirk. Don’t let him touch you.” Mezo dipped his head before walking towards the mats.

…

Kaya Taro had thought that this event was made for him and his quirk. Draining people's energy when he touched them? It was perfect. Every time someone would grapple with him, they would end up more tired and more sloppy than before.

That thought had suffered a bit when Flex had fought that Maita guy. But he had been taken to the mat at least once! And he didn’t have a perfect quirk for this. The thought had sputtered as if dying when Tokoyami had completely obliterated his opponent. His shadow could hold a person down for god's sake. The final nail in that coffin, however, had been when he’d watched Red Riot literally grind the bones of his opponent down, resulting in him being stretchered off the mats.

Three 1-A students had wiped the floor with their opponents. One of them without his quirk. Now, here Kaya stood, across from someone a full foot taller than him, and he couldn’t help but blanch. Maybe those were just three freaks in their class? The entire class couldn’t be like that, right? That 1-B student had a normal match, right?!

Mezo stared down at his opponent with as neutral of an expression as he could manage. The man was working himself into some kind of anxiety attack, and Mezo had no idea what he was supposed to do here, considering that they’d be wrestling as soon as the signal came.

The whistle blew, and the man lunged. Mezo took a step back, grabbing one of Kaya’s wrists. The man panicked harder, reaching for his currently immobile wrist and the hand wrapped around it. His fingers barely brushed Mezo’s skin when that wrist, too, was grabbed. Slowly, making a point of it, Mezo pulled Kaya’s arms out away from each other before placing another set of arms onto the shoulders of the man in front of him.

Kaya’s pupils dilated as he looked up and laughed in a horrid mixture of anxiety and primal fear. “I’m in danger.”

…

Mezo sat back down with a huff and a small, tiny, so insignificant he would deny it, amount of satisfaction. Present Mic hadn’t stopped yelling about Kraken retaking U.A.’s streak with style, so he was able to shake his head and at least try to make himself look modest rather than preen. That being said, the praise was still nice.

“How do you think Sato is going to fare against this Kawata guy?” Kirishima asked.

“That depends on what Midoriya meant by spirit companion. Is it more ghosty,” Sero waggled his fingers, miming the word ghost, “or is it closer to what Tokoyami’s got going and is its own being?” A low groan came from Tokoyami as Dark Shadow muttered about being recognized by everyone but the person they were stuck to.

“It’s not likely that he is going to do well. It’s closer to Tokoyami’s quirk than it is the former.”

Mezo looked from person to person. “That’s his polite way of saying he’s f*cked, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

…

Setsuna wanted to toss her equipment aside and just take off running. She wouldn’t do that, of course. There was an order to these races that were followed for everyone’s safety. That didn’t mean that she couldn’t feel the anxiety creeping up as she stowed her biking gear. Several students had nearly caught up with her. One had, in fact, but seeing as he was only a minute or so ahead of her, and his quirk had motorized the bike, she wasn’t worried about overtaking him.

The drones were the easiest way to keep track of where the contenders generally were. They puttered along through the skies, tracking the leaders and groups. The next drone was only a couple of bends back and seemed to be gaining fairly quickly.

Setsuna began her sprint, shifting mid-step. Feathers sprouted as bones broke and rearranged, a process that was always uncomfortable at best and incredibly painful at worst. Setsuna had long gotten used to the process, the shift almost immediate from everyone else's view. With a single step, suddenly a raptor took the place of where Setsuna should have been standing. The shift from plantigrade to digitigrade was always the most awkward for her.

She took a couple of quick, stumbling steps as her talons clicked on the asphalt, attempting to gain purchase in the change, before she managed to regain her stride. Setsuna picked up speed quickly, her arms tucked up against her body as she tilted her head forward. The student that had passed her appeared suddenly and then disappeared, a green blur the only thing he’d registered before Setsuna was already around the bend in front of him and tearing down the final stretch back to U.A.

…

Iida skidded to a stop alongside a student who seemed to have a perpetual tailwind. He had stuck close. Perhaps not the most fair of reasons to stick close to another competitor, but the man had seemed to enjoy the company well enough, and the advantage would have been foolish to give up when the exchange was simple company.

Both men had stopped just as green tail feathers dipped around a corner in the distance. They looked at each other before scrambling off their bikes. They had made better time than either had thought they would, and every second was another gap in their final times.

…

Toga had long since lost sight of either Iida or Tsyu, who had taken a notable lead on her. Oh man, if I had known those legs of hers would be so good for biking, I would have asked her to help me stock up on her blood over the week. Those legs, and oh, those thighs. Toga let out an audible moan as her head tilted back towards the sky. She blinked, letting her head roll back down to look in front of her. “Well, that’s new.”

…

Monoma groaned. He was barely holding his lead in his group. 1-A was long gone, plus a handful of others, and how the hell that was possible, he didn’t know. His lungs were on fire, his muscles burned, and he was drenched in enough sweat that he just knew he was going to lose a couple pounds in just water. Yet, he pushed forward and kept his lead on the other hero students by the skin of his teeth. Monoma couldn’t help but think of the 1-A students that had had the gall to behave like this nonsense was a warmup.

Little did Monoma know that by the end of their time at U.A., Midoriya planned for precisely that.

…

Midoriya stretched as they announced his first match. Finally, he thought. It had taken long enough to get through the first round of matches. At least the second round would be faster. Midoriya stared up at the drones, which held their scores and competitor lineup. His round, Tokoyami and Sero, Kirishima and Matsumura, and Mezo and Kawata. Sato had lost, to no one's surprise. It was difficult to pin an opponent, and to Sato’s credit, he’d almost managed several times. As there’d been a spectral wolf slamming into him as he’d attempted to do so, the match had been a testament to his own strength, if not his training.

Midoriya stepped up onto the mats with a smile and a wave. The smile strained a bit as he focused in more closely on the noise coming from the audience. There was a considerable amount of cheering, those that were excited to see the match regardless of their opinions of him, or what outcome they expected. But there was also silence from a number of spectators, and subtle but noticeable booing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his classmates sit up a bit straighter, their faces darkening. Midoriya just shook his head. He was quirkless. That bought him at least a few uncharitable remarks and reactions, no matter where he went. Besides, with the USJ so fresh in everyone’s minds, a large portion of the audience would be thinking of the number of bodies at his feet.

Midoriya took in a breath and slid into a grappling stance to await the whistle blow. His opponent glanced between him and Vlad, looking a bit… sick? Constipated? Midoriya wasn’t really sure what was running through his mind.

“Uh, sir? Do I actually have to wrestle the quirkless freak? You guys just seeded him to be nice, right?” Midoriya felt the all too common sick feeling rise up in his gut. It was always like this, even before he’d been put in the coma, worse now that he thought about it. He’d had the option of not interacting with these kinds of people after coming back. The sick feeling was swamped with the usual stirring of bitter anger. Why did he bother trying to protect these people? He should just-

Carefully, Midoriya adjusted the smile on his face as he raised a hand to Vlad King. He was lucky that U.A.'s heroes were worth their title. “It’s fine, Vlad. Let’s get on with this.” Vlad had half a mind still to kick the kid out of the competition, but he supposed that wouldn’t make a point nearly as well as what Midoriya was about to do to the man.

Midoriya came to the conclusion that he was very much about to enjoy what he was going to do to this Shiketsu student. Very much, indeed.

Chapter 71: Chapter #70 | Glutton for Punishment

Chapter Text

Midoriya took in a deep breath as he squared off with his opponent. Not a threat to him, not by any measure, and yet, the man standing in front of him had Midoriya honestly contemplating committing acts that would see him on trial in the Hague. It was as if being told that he did indeed have to wrestle the quirkless man had flipped some kind of vitriol switch in the guy's brain. Midoriya let the intrusive thoughts roll away as he took another breath.

The only redeeming factor to this situation, in Midoriya’s mind, was that the man's career was effectively dead. The audio wouldn’t make it past the U.A. broadcasting studio, Nedzu would make sure of that, but anyone with eyes would be able to see the reactions of the people standing near the mats. Students and heroes alike looked as if they had just swallowed Bitrex. The audience, much to Midoriya’s growing and ongoing internal struggle, seemed torn, rather. For the most part, they were disapproving. The most part seemed to be a sizable pill to swallow for the two first-year classes watching the audience reactions.

…

“Oh, come on, he could kick every one of their asses, regardless of quirk.” Kirishima’s low, vicious muttering was met by Sero’s own anger at the comments they’d overheard since the match announcement. He had disliked Midoriya because of the way he’d done things, because he hadn’t known if Midoriya could be trusted. There was no indication that he could, of course. If anything, it seemed to be the opposite.

Sero had learned better at the USJ. He still didn’t trust him, but he knew that Midoriya would protect them. If he and the professors were to be believed, Midoriya had been in the field for quite a while. At this point, their relationship was closer to careful tolerance than familiarity, but even still, Sero couldn’t help the sneer that came to his face when confronted by the Shiketsu student. “f*ckin quirkists.”

…

Midoriya was entirely too used to the words being thrown his way. Rather than give the man any kind of verbal response, he simply took his stance and waited for the whistle to blow. Vlad signaled the opening with a sharp, cool look, which Midoriya chose not to think too carefully on as the whistle sounded. The Shiketsu student came straight at him, and Midoriya simply stood there. The man impacted directly with his body, moving him absolutely nowhere. Balefully, Midoriya stared down at his opponent before digging his fingers into the man’s left shoulder and, his right hand on his hip, flipping him clean over with a twist before slamming him into the ground.

Midoriya didn’t move but chose to look at Vlad, instead. “This is why weight class is more important than quirk usage.” The man on the ground hissed as he reset. Anger radiated from his expression and from his too-stiff, jerking movements, anger which was only met with icy indifference. He charged again. Midoriya didn’t so much as twitch as his opponent met him, grabbing onto his arms and attempting to twist and drag Midoriya. Midoriya simply hooked one foot around the man’s leg and swept.

The Shiketsu student hit the ground and rolled away, expecting Midoriya to chase the pin. He popped up and found Midoriya standing in the same place he had a moment before, disdain and disgust the only discernible emotions on his otherwise expressionless features. Angrier now, the man stepped in again, only to have Midoriya sweep him under again, this time placing his foot solidly enough on the Shiketsu’s student's spine to pin him to the mat.

“What, you have nothing to say, defect?” An ounce of pity dripped through into the cool chill of Midoriya’s control. How pathetic.

“There is no need to waste words on someone like you.” Midoriya heard the whistle blow and released the man under his foot. His opponent laughed as he got up and reset. He came again, grabbing at Midoriya’s singlet when he was simply pushed back, stumbling far enough that he’d almost taken himself over the boundary line. Vlad debated on warning Midoriya for being passive, but, judging from the deserved bruising he was handing out and the roar of the audience as Mic gave the play-by-play, Vlad could afford to let it continue a bit longer.

Midoriya put the man down again. Cold efficiency, he never moved from his spot. It was an embarrassment for the Shiketsu student and a calculated one on Midoriya’s part. He didn’t allow his opponent to show anything other than how utterly ineffectual he was against the supposed defect.

It was funny, in a way. If the student had had a verbal quirk, then Midoriya could have taken this in stride. It would have been a reason, a good excuse, and the man would have been damn good at it, too. Midoriya wouldn’t have been able to say a thing. He had been teaching Shinso exactly this. But the Shiketsu student didn’t have that excuse.

“You know, I hope you make it through training and get a license. That way, when everyone around you is dead, and it’s all your fault, the entire world will see just how useless your kind are.”

Vlad registered the words a moment after they’d left the man’s mouth and saw the shift in Midoriya’s eyes, even as he blew the whistle to resume. f*ck. Vlad opened his mouth to call for a stop as the Shiketsu student blitzed forward again. The comments before had been grounds to remove the student from the competition. Such views were in no way acceptable of a prospective hero, something that Vlad was certain their president would bring up with Shiketsu’s. He had let it go for the moment, though, because Midoriya was fine with continuing. He had still planned on removing him after the match. That comment, however, had been a line too far.

Midoriya watched as the Shiketsu student stepped quickly toward him again, felt the moment when the fabric around his chest constricted, seeking to freeze him in place. In that moment, Midoriya felt the control he had constantly preached to Setsuna snap. And funnily enough, Midoriya didn’t care. Midoriya stepped forward, moving through the tearing of his singlet's shoulder straps and with enough force to inflict a satisfying amount of pain with his impact. In half the time it should have taken someone to clear the distance, Midoriya met the Shiketsu student in the middle. The fingers of his right hand dug into the chest of his opponent. Gripping his singlet in one hand, Midoriya lifted the man from his feet, then slammed him onto his back on the minimally cushioned concrete.

…

Not for the first time, Shoji was glad that he wore the mask that covered his face. It hid the full-bodied, malicious smile that had formed when the crack-crunch sound had echoed out from the Shiketsu student’s impact. When he glanced to the side, Shoji noted that it wasn’t just his own classmates who were just barely managing to display carefully neutral expressions.

Kirishima still grimaced as he looked at Midoriya. His singlet had been shredded, and the upper half of it, likely what the guy had used his quirk on, rested in tatters around his hips. Midoriya had never had problems with any of them seeing his scars. There is no reason to be ashamed of scars, Kirishima. They’re proof that you fought and survived. The scars on his arms had already been visible, though no one’s attention was on them now.

Midoriya’s chest and back were a patchwork of healthy skin and scar tissue. Handprints, burns, the jagged slices of knives, pockmark scars that many would recognize as bullet scarring. The worst, though, were the surgical scars. Fresh and old, the incision lines acted like a map of the human body.

Still, Midoriya stood with his back straight, not an ounce of hesitation as he turned away from his opponent. The man from Shiketsu lay there gasping, trying with little success to pull in air. The medical bots came forward, shuffled the choking man onto a stretcher, and began to move him toward the medical office. The crowd cheered and cried. Chanting for Elysium, any hint of the previous disgust and hesitance was lost in their excitement and emotion. Not for the first time, Midoriya felt nothing but disgust.

…

Sero and Tokoyami stood side by side at the edge of the mats. Dark Shadow had crept up Sero’s back and decided to rest its head on its arms atop Sero’s shoulder. Both stood watching as Cementoss repaired the platform that they had been competing on. When the mats had been rolled back, much to the media hounds and audience's glee, the concrete underneath had been shattered from Midoriya’s final takedown.

“I am so, so glad that I’ve never beaten you outside of group spars right now, Tokoyami.”

“There is always the chance that you will best me, Sero.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it~” Dark Shadow practically trilled as it crowed, a wide smile on its face.

“Thank you, Dark Shadow.”

“Do not thank the demon for dooming us both.”

“That’s too harsh, Fumi.” The surface of Dark Shadow rippled, a mimicry of ruffled feathers. “Izuku won’t break our spines, too.” Sero felt a bit of his color bleed out as he and Tokoyami looked at each other. The mats rolled back out as Sero spoke.

“You,” a pause, “you don’t think Midoriya actually broke that dude's spine, right?” Admittedly, Sero couldn’t read Tokoyami’s expressions very well. He hadn’t grown up around bird people, after all. The minute feather and muscle shifts in Tokoyami’s face that would normally denote changes in expression were hard to read until one got used to it. Sero lucked out this time when a full-bore grimace crossed Tokoyami’s face. A cacophony of cheers suddenly sounded out. Must be the general entry event, Sero thought.

“If he did, then all the better. Bastards like that don’t stop with one group of people.” Even Dark Shadow was silent as that statement hung in the air. Sero was, well, he wanted to say surprised, but he had seen the glee in Tokoyami and Shoji’s eyes when Midoriya had sent his opponent to the mat.

…

Sero breathed heavily as he dipped between Dark Shadow’s outstretched claws before firing another strand of tape at the ground, setting another sticky trap for Tokoyami. Speak of the devil. Tokoyami had gone low while Dark Shadow had gone high and was rewarded for his effort by getting one of Sero’s legs wrapped in his arms.

Sero went weightless for a moment as Tokoyami pulled and lifted, picking him clean up off the mat before forcing his back into the ground. Sero sucked in a breath as he pushed his body to move. Sero rolled with Tokoyami, placing himself on his stomach before scrunching up. Tokoyami placed himself up and onto his back. Sero forced his legs out to the side, raising his hips. Tokoyami followed him, hooking an arm around Sero’s waist and front arm. Sero dropped his shoulder, letting it hit the mat where his knee was while kicking up and over, rolling out of Tokoyami’s grasp. Tokoyami moved to chase but realized with a grimace that he had to detach himself from one of Sero’s tape traps. Sero popped back up onto his feet, a bit breathless from the near catch.

“f*ck.” And immediately was forced off his feet again as Dark Shadow barreled into his gut.

…

Kirishima winced, almost hardening in sympathy, as Sero’s back hit the mat again. They had been able to hear the impact of Dark Shadow meeting Sero’s stomach from all the way back where they sat. The problem Sero was running into was just numbers, plain and simple. He wasn’t the best during their hand-to-hand training. Some of the students in 1-A just took to combat training like they were born for it, but he was better than Tokoyami. The problem was that outright combat wasn’t allowed in this event, and he was outnumbered.

You could get away with a bit. It came with the territory when grappling. Jabs, knees, and all sorts of other blows were just going to happen, but outright combat wasn’t permitted, and that was the edge that Sero needed if he was going to have a chance at dealing with both Tokoyami and Dark Shadow.

Kirishima glanced over to where Midoriya stood with Vlad King, the other observers, and Yoshio, whom Kirishima still felt the need to shudder at. Yoshio had his hands up and was shaking his head, probably disavowing any connection to his ass of a schoolmate. Another thump came from the mats. Kirishima glanced over and felt his eyes widen as Sero had actually managed to get Tokoyami into a pin. Aaaand there he goes. Dark Shadow grabbed Sero and whipped him up and over its head. Sero hit the mat hard for—hell, Kirishima had lost count—the umpteenth time this match when the end whistle finally blew.

Midoriya glanced up at the mats where Tokoyami was helping Sero back up to his feet. As they began to limp back toward their seats, Midoriya stepped away from the group with a few parting words, cleanly intercepting the two before they could sit.

“I would say you need to stop hitting the mat, but that was kind of unavoidable.”

“Yeah, could really do a lot there.” There was no hostility in Sero’s dry sarcasm, just low-grade humor.

“For what it’s worth, you did a damn good job.”

“I got my ass handed to me.”

“You held on for a lot longer than in training.” Tokoyami’s tone wasn’t placating but simple as he spoke this fact with a shrug.

“Still didn’t look good.”

“I’d have to disagree. Holding on and keeping the score relatively low with only grappling techniques while outnumbered will catch quite a few people's eyes. Again, good job, Sero.” Midoriya reached down, grabbing Sero’s water before handing it to him. He turned, wordless in his movements, to retrieve his bag that had been sitting in his own seat. He pulled out a labeled bottle and, returning to the two, handed Sero a relatively small, white pill with a G32 marked on it.

“Naproxen. It’ll help.” Midoriya turned to walk back to the small group he was talking with before when Kirishima called over to him.

“Everything alright over there, Midoriya?” Midoriya’s eyes flicked back to Kirishima. He just sighed and shook his head.

“Perfectly fine. Yoshio swears up and down that his class has been looking for a reason to be rid of that asshole for weeks. They just got handed the best case they’re going to get with this.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Yeah, yeah it is. Doesn’t make it burn my ass any less, though. f*cking quirkist prick. Should have broken his legs, too.” Midoriya muttered the last bit to himself as he wandered back to Vlad King. Kirishima shrugged. As long as that was taken care of, he could put it out of his mind. Put it in that awful little box called compartmentalization. With a deep breath, Kirishima gave a big smile and stepped up onto the mat across from Matsumura Kasumi.

Chapter 72: Chapter #71 | Temperature Trials

Chapter Text

Kirishima smiled as he stepped up onto the platform across from Matsumura Kasumi. Out of the corner of his eye, Kirishima had watched Tetsutetsu return from Recovery Girl’s temporary office inside the stadium. He was kind of glad Tetsutetsu had gotten back as quickly as he had. He needed to get revenge for his bro! Well, sort of. That was the joke they were all going with, at least.

In reality, Kirishima was man enough to admit that he really wanted to keep Class 1-A’s win streak going. There was more than a little competitiveness drumming up inside of him. He got what Midoriya had said, that it wasn’t the point of the event. He really did. But still, there was a small part of him, he’d claim smaller than it was, that really enjoyed winning. Who didn’t?

Kirishima put his hands up as he and his opponent took their positions. Smile on his face, he told Matsumura good luck. The woman blinked for a second, seemingly trying to figure out if there was some kind of ulterior motive. Deciding there was none, the young woman gave Kirishima a small surprised smile and wished him the same.

The whistle blew, and Matsumura wasted no time moving forward, grabbing at Kirishima. He stepped forward instead of back, surprising the woman. Locking at the shoulders, he pressured the shoulder joints, locking her in the bind with him. They danced, or Kirishima supposed it was a kind of dance. His foot slipped forward, trying to catch her leg before both slid away from his own. With a quick movement, Matsumura snapped out, trying to catch him out of place.

A few moments of this and Kirishima hissed. Matsumura’s hands were rapidly cooling against his skin.

…

Kirishima breathed deeply, his hands on his knees. Groaning, he rolled out sore joints, staring balefully at the ceiling. Midoriya had been training him to rapidly respond to incoming threats during their one-on-one sessions. As he had explained it, they could drill the “proper” way to handle a fight into their heads, so much so that it would be automatic in a true fight.

How to throw a punch, how to disarm, disengage, entrap, any technique they could imagine. But they, the students, would have to be the ones to adapt that knowledge for themselves. Kirishima’s biggest issue, they had found, wasn’t adapting that knowledge.

He was quite good at fighting in hand-to-hand, in fact, a natural compared to some of his classmates. His quirk let him be far more aggressive than any of the other students. He could shrug off strikes that would put normal people on their asses and keep slugging, a bruiser fighting style that only worked because he had such a highly valued, by Midoriya at least, defensive quirk. His problem lay in his stamina.

After a few minutes of fighting with his quirk at max, he started to struggle. Ten, twenty? He was practically gassed. The mental fatigue, and the physical toll, were heavy on his body. Something that would work just fine in quick engagements, like those in their first year, wouldn’t necessarily work during longer field assignments. Kirishima had wanted to argue, instinctively so, but the USJ was too fresh in his mind to formulate one. The worst had happened, hadn’t it?

Midoriya breathed out as he put down the latest weapons that he had been striking at Kirishima with. It was Kirishima’s job to respond to the threat. That was it. Where would Midoriya strike? With what? How hard? Bladed? Blunt? How much of his quirk did he need to channel? Where did he need to channel it?

Midoriya had given him a couple of training choices, a few paths that Kirishima could decide on. Midoriya welcomed him to make suggestions. This was one method of using his quirk that Kirishima had found interesting. Localized activation at the time of threat. It wasn’t always viable, of course. Midoriya had explained that in plenty of other situations, Kirishima wouldn’t be able to risk this kind of activation method.

The other problem lay in exactly what was happening. Kirishima had struggled at first to figure out what he was being struck with, to recognize how intensely he needed to activate his quirk, to activate his quirk in time at all. He was getting better, a lot better if the praise from Midoriya was to be believed. He certainly didn’t have nearly the number of bruises he’d started out with. He’d even managed to start trying for counterattacks!

“How are you with hot and cold? Have you ever tested your defenses against temperatures, Kirishima?”

Sweat dripped down Kirishima’s spine as he looked down from the ceiling to Midoriya, who was fishing around in a polystyrene container with a gloved hand. “I mean, I’ve never gone out of my way to test it. But I seem to do alright when Todoroki throws ice at me. Why?”

Midoriya snorted as he retracted his hand with a brick of ice in it. “There are all sorts of quirks out there. If the rumors are true, then Baba Yaga in Siberia can snap her fingers and cover an entire city in ice. You need to know how you do against the elements. Considering that…”

Kirishima eyed the brick in Midoriya’s hand, which was frosting over the glove even as he picked up a blow torch in his other hand and ignited it. “Let’s test how you do with temperature.”