Chapter Text
Honestly, both Midoriya and Shigaraki had been expecting the moment that their bodies switched back to be grander, some great spectacle that would draw the attention of everyone around. Neither expected to simply wake up back in their own bodies and continue life as before, but that is what happened.
But, things were different. The both of them ignored the whole ordeal for a while, as if it would simply disappear from their pasts if they just pretended it had never happened. It didn’t, of course, and both found themselves thinking about the other more frequently than they would admit even to themselves.
The first real sign that the experience had changed them came when Shigaraki’s phone pinged one day with a message from Midoriya - they still had each other’s contacts after Shigaraki in Midoriya’s body had messaged his own phone all those months ago - simply reading ‘for food’. It was a Venmo for $250. For the first time in nearly a year, the League had takeout.
The second sign of change was that villains no longer seemed to target Class 1A. And perhaps, it was Shigaraki’s newfound unwillingness to attack UA that lead to the fourth change - the failure and arrest of the League of Villains.
The fifth sign of change was when Midoriya stepped up to testify for the League, advocating for their admittance into a rehabilitation program rather that life in Tartarus. And the sixth was when the pair of them finally told the world about their week living each other’s lives.
And so the League of Villains was sentenced to an experimental rehabilitation program. They would never be free people, not truly. They’d spend their lives under near-constant surveillance and made to attend mandatory weekly therapy sessions. They had their quirks suppressed with an implant in their arms. But they were free to pursue a normal life, and that was more than any of them had dared to hope for.
And such was the culmination of events that led to this, Midoriya and Tenko - he’d rejected his old name but didn’t yet feel comfortable referring to himself as ‘Shimura’ - sitting side by side on a park bench like old friends as they finally, after nearly a year, talked about their time swapped.
“So,” Tenko began. His voice had softened over the last few months. “Did Denki and Jirou ever get together?”
“Seriously?!” Midoriya laughed, “of all things, that’s really what you want to know?”
“Seemed like a safe place to start. And you didn’t answer my question.”
Midoriya shook his head, smiling. “Yeah. They did. Do you still get nauseous when you eat?”
“Yeah. But it’s not as bad now that my quirk is gone.”
Because it really was gone. Unlike the rest of the League, who had agreed to the suppressant implants, Tenko refused to accept anything less than the permanent removal of his quirk after he’d learned that it had been forced upon him by All for One.
“That’s good at least,” Midoriya said. “That worried me, you know. Your body not being able to keep food down. You were so skinny back then. You do look like you’ve put on a bit of weight. Not in a bad way!”
Tenko laughed, a dry, raspy noise that honestly sounded a bit painful. “Helps that I can afford to eat. Thank you for that, by the way. Food shopping has gone from a survival strategy game to a sandbox game. I can get whatever I want now.”
Midoriya wasn’t sure if the thanks was for Venmoing Shigaraki money that time or for being responsible for pulling the strings to get Tenko into his current job as UA's IT professional. Either way, he responded, “you don’t need to thank me for that. It’s what heroes do.”
“So Endeavor would personally help some villain to afford dinner?” Tenko said sarcastically. “News to me.”
“It’s what heroes should do,” Midoriya corrected himself.
Tenko hummed thoughtfully. “How is Eraserhead?”
“Good. Or at least I’m pretty sure he’s doing well. Never said anything that made me think he wasn’t. He’s legally adopted Eri now.”
“So cool,” Tenko said to himself.
Midoriya couldn’t help but nod in agreement. “Anyways, how’s your chronic pain been? Better without the quirk? Or is it still bothering you?”
“I mean, it’s not gone, but it’s a lot better. Though Toga and Spinner have seemed convinced that I need constant affection when I’m hurting ever since that week we were swapped, and I’m blaming you entirely."
“Guilty as charged,” Midoriya laughed.
They sat in comfortable silence for a few seconds before Tenko asked, “how’s your mom doing?”
“She’s been doing very well lately. Why do you ask?”
Tenko god very awkward very quickly. “She… she called when I was skinned as you, so I had to rp the phone call. She seemed nice.”
Midoriya smiled at the gaming metaphors. Tenko tended to fall back into his ‘life is a game’ mentality when he was unsure of something. “Yeah, she is very nice,” he agreed. “Maybe I can set it up for you to meet her in person.”
“You’d trust me with that? Idiot.”
“Tenko,” Midoriya said seriously, “I trust you. You’re a good man, whether you like it or not. You know that, right?”
The silence that followed was answer enough.
“Um,” Midoriya shifted the subject, “how are your friends rehabilitation attempts going?”
Of course, Midoriya already knew the answer. But it seemed a safe topic of conversation.
“They’re all doing well except for Dabi,” Tenko explained. “He won’t respond to ‘Touya’. Refuses to see his siblings. Only wants his dad, but Endeavor keeps declining to see him after the first time they met. I don’t know what happened, but Dabi won’t talk about it.”
Midoriya had heard all about it. About how Dabi had pleaded for Endeavor to take him back, to reject Shouto and train him in his place. Then he’d threatened - though he had said it more like a benevolent offer than a threat - to kill Shouto and gift his corpse to Endeavor to show his commitment. Dabi hadn’t been allowed to leave the psych ward since, and Endeavor had refused to visit him again. “How about the others? The ones who are doing well?” Midoriya prompted.
Tenko lost some of the somber expression on his face as he recounted the rehabilitation of the other League members. “Spinner is doing great! I think he’s winning compared to the rest of us. He’s started a support group for heteromorphs and managed to convince the Commission to let him use his mandatory community service hours to volunteer at this charity for homeless heteromorphs,” he explained. “Toga’s probably got the best chance for a pretty normal life since she was a minor when she committed all her crimes. A little time in juvie and a shitload of community service and she’s good. She’s going to a high school for ‘troubled youth’ now, which sounds fucked up, but she seems to be making actual friends.”
“That’s great!” Midoriya responded. “I knew they could adapt!”
Tenko was quiet for a few seconds before saying, “look, I don’t want to tell you all this. But my therapist is all for me opening up and talking about shit, so I guess this is the dialogue option that I’m picking right now. Don’t make me regret it.” Tenko paused. “I was… worried when they de-nomu-ified Kurogiri. He was my caretaker for a long time. I thought he’d stop caring once they undid his programming. Figured he’d go back to Eraserhead and Present Mic. But he didn’t. He said that he cared more about the man he’d seen as his son for fifteen years than a three-year high school friendship.” Another long pause. “I’m too old for official adoption. But, other than the legal papers, he’s… he’s my dad now.”
“That’s great, Tenko!” Midoriya exclaimed sincerely. “I’m glad that the two of you have each other. I never really got to meet Oboro when he was Kurogiri since he’d already been arrested when I was swapped with you. But he seems like a really good guy. You really deserve someone like that in your life.”
“No I don’t,” Tenko scoffed, “but I’m glad that I have him anyways.”
“You do. But it’s okay that you don’t believe me yet,” Midoriya said. “So. What do you want to do? Now that you’re not a villain, I mean. You’re the only one whose life plan I don’t know about.”
“It’s cause I don’t have one, idiot. Killing is all I’ve ever been good for. Sen- er, I mean All for One made sure of that.”
“No,” Midoriya stated plainly. “Killing was all you were taught, not all you were good for. He never really let you make your own decisions, did he? So now that you’re not being told what to do, you’ve got no idea.”
“Shut up. You’re not my therapist,” Tenko snapped.
“Yeah, that’s fair. I’m just worried about you.”
“Well stop worrying. I can take care of myself.”
“Sure you can. But you shouldn’t have to. That’s what heroes should do. Take care of people, even when the people don’t technically need it. You’ve got a support system. There’s no shame in relying on it.”
Tenko shook his head in silent frustration. “I’m not stupid. I know that shit. But…” he trailed off.
“Yeah, it’s easier said than done. Just know that, if you don’t want to ask others, I’m here. And I’m always willing to help!”
“You’re such a good person that it makes me nauseous.”
“Everything makes you nauseous.”
“Touché.”
Another few beats of tense silence. Tenko watched a man walking his dog.
“I’ve been volunteering at a corgi rescue shelter lately,” he began. Midoriya turned to look at him again. “They’ve got one puppy who’s a little bit sickly. They found her abandoned in an alleyway a few months back. I helped with her care afterwards, and the leading vet said she’d probably been wandering the streets alone for a while beforehand. She’s a good dog, not violent or loud or anything. But she’s only got three legs and one eye, so no one wants her. The shelter is contemplating handing her off to another establishment. But I was… considering. And I think I want to adopt her.”
“That’s great, Tenko! What’s her name?”
“Maru right now. But she’s young enough that she could adapt to a new name pretty easily. I was thinking Mon.”
“Any reason?”
Tenko paused, as if contemplating answering, before giving a noncommittal shrug.
Midoriya decided not to question him. “I’m glad you’re adjusting. You deserve happiness.”
Another pause, this one a bit tense.”
“Well,” Midoriya continued, “want to start meeting here every week? You know, just to talk?”
Tenko was silent for a few moments, and Midoriya thought for a second that he wasn’t going to give an answer. But then he did. “Yeah. I’d like that.”