Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Izuku first changes, he doesn't notice until gym class.

He makes to put on his shorts, but when he looks down, he notices that he's missing something.

In most situations, he might have screamed from the shock - or maybe laughed in relief. He has a quirk! But this is gym class, and the teacher is scary. If she heard that Izuku had interrupted class for something as silly as a quirk, she would not be happy.

So he hurriedly finishes getting dressed, feeling oddly uncomfortable in the presence of his oblivious classmates, and waits for Agasa-sensei to lead them to the field.

Running that day is better than usual. He still runs out of stamina far too quickly, but at least the quick onset of exhaustion is no longer accompanied by that uncomfortable friction between his legs.

Once Izuku's mother comes to pick him up from school, he thinks of telling her about the quirk.

But wasn't that part of him supposed to be private? She'd told him that herself, back before school started. It would disappoint her if he showed her that part of him, wouldn't it?

So instead, he acts like his excitement is for watching All Might's awesome rescue mission again - which it is, in part. Once he gets home, his mother sets up the computer and leaves the room. With a silent apology to his all-time hero, he pauses the video, and sets about figuring out his quirk.

"Private parts," he murmurs as he types that phrase into the search bar.

Izuku scrolls through the search results, but not enough of the words make sense to him. He doesn't know which one to click, so he scrolls to the top and clicks Images.

"That one matches," he says to himself, and he clicks on one of the pictures.

"It's odd," the doctor tells them. "He's long past the age at which a quirk would manifest, and yet his toe doesn't have the extra joint to identify him as quirkless..."

"But what does that mean for him?" his mother asks. "He's wanted to be a hero for as long as he can remember!"

The doctor shrugs, eyes falling pityingly on Izuku. "I'm sorry to say that probably isn't possible. Izuku has what's known as an invisible quirk - one so obscure, difficult to activate or with so little usability, that it's impossible to identify. Ninety-nine times of a hundred, having an invisible quirk is as good as being quirkless in a combat situation."

His mother's eyes well up immediately. Izuku's don't.

He knows what his quirk is. And yes, it's small, and yes, it won't be any good on its own.

But Izuku will make it work.

Both the doctor and his mother catch a glimpse of his eyes, the green fire of determination, and they drop the subject then and there.

Izuku can't decide a lot of things, and it's starting to upset him.

Firstly, should he tell his mother about his quirk?

His first instinct is to tell her, but he knows, realistically, that his quirk isn't very powerful. He can't spit flame, make explosions or defeat enemies with a single blow. If he tells mom about the quirk, then she'll know for certain that he can't be a hero.

At least if his quirk is invisible, she won't know for certain that it's useless. Izuku will still be able to dream about being a hero.

So he isn't going to tell mom. It hurts to keep this a secret, but it would hurt more to give up his dream. And he can't decide whether it would hurt more or less than that, to see his mom hurt like she had during the doctor's appointment.

Still, that's just one more thing he can't decide. There's still plenty more to get through.

His eyes drift to the computer screen, the innocent question of 'am i a boy or a girl' typed into the search engine. He thought at first that he was a little silly to be unsure about such a simple fact - something that everyone knows their entire lives - but according to the internet results, it looks like he isn't as alone as he thought.

Intrigued, he clicks on a random link and prepares to sieve through this new information.

Izuku can't really think of themself as a 'they' full-time. It's fine to talk about Izuku with a 'they' when they're talking about Izuku overall, but for most situations, Izuku decides that they'll use 'he' or 'she' depending on which private parts they have at the moment.

It's simpler that way, she nods, with the conviction that only a five-year-old can have.

Smiling at her own logic, Izuku closes the tabs she has open, making sure to remember them for later. This whole 'transgender' thing is very interesting; to think it was her own useless quirk that helped her discover the whole subject!

She's spent the last week as a girl. Not because it's more comfortable to sit and walk (although it is), but partly to see if there are any limits to her quirk - like a time limit. Lots of cool heroes have talked about knowing your limits, after all. But so far she hasn't noticed any limits beyond those of a regular human body, and the strengths of her quirk aren't exactly stellar either.

The other part is that Izuku's curious about whether they're transgender. He isn't uncomfortable as a boy, but she isn't uncomfortable as a girl, either. Izuku thinks they must be 'nonbinary', that extra category that's neither a boy or a girl, except that Izuku is okay being both, so that doesn't really fit at all.

She'd thought that being a girl full-time for a bit would help her figure it out, but it hasn't helped in the slightest.

She's about to snap from the frustration of it all.

Stretching out, she decides that staying as a girl won't get her anywhere right now. So she changes.

And drops to the floor.

His head swam. He threw up in his mouth and barely avoided left a puddle on the floor. His hands feel clammy and cold, and when he rubbed them together to try and warm up, bits of dried skin flaked away. His mouth stuck together, and he can taste copper in his mouth.

Then he was in the kitchen, crawling towards the table and trying, without success, to prop himself up against it. A glass of water appears in front of him, and he desperately butted against it. It went down his throat, and despite inhaling some, he felt a little more alive once he downed the entire glass.

Now he can see his mom, desperately searching through the cupboards for something. Maybe some more water? Water was supposed to come from a tap, how could she forget that.

He told her as much through the water coating his vision, and she says something that doesn't reach his ears. She finally pulls out a packet of something. He gripped onto the biscuit he's given, and stared at it blankly.

How was he supposed to drink this?

The moment he's himself enough to think it through, Izuku changes back into a girl. Her pounding headache lets up a little, and while she's still exhausted, she now has the brainpower to piece together why everything went wrong.

They only really had problems when they tried to stay in their girl form for too long. And the problem itself was starvation and dehydration, which only affected their boy form. So logically, that meant that when they stayed a girl, the boy form wasn't getting any food or drink.

By being a girl for a week, she was letting the boy starve. And by staying a boy to let that side of him recover, he made the girl go hungry a bit, too. That's a big weakness, especially since it probably means that they need to eat enough for two people.

But maybe it could also be a strength, she thinks, hope rekindling in her chest for the first time in weeks. Surely if food doesn't transfer from the boy to the girl, that means that injuries won't either!

Crossing her fingers, she searches for a sharp object. There's a pack of thumbtacks on the other side of the room, so she picks one up and jams it into her left thumb. It stings as expected, but she pulls it out, and there's little left but a sparkling red bead on the tip of her thumb.

She changes, and he squints through the returning migraine at his thumb.

The blood is gone, and none wells up to take its place.

He changes back into a girl. The droplet returns.

She smiles to herself.

As the years go by, Izuku learns about their quirk, little by little. Whenever they have a bit of free time, they try to learn more about themselves.

If they concentrate, they can extend the change to their clothing, so the girl can wear different clothes to the boy. The first time they try this, she ends up naked in the computer room (in girl form, no less), and is almost caught that way when her mother walks in.

Since then, every morning, they undress, shower and dress both of their forms. Every night, they brush both sets of teeth. They don't need to swap clothes whenever they change, but having a set of clothing on each form makes them feel more comfortable. This way, they won't end up naked if they change clothes on reflex.

Their next experiment is to try and store their notepad; if they can store clothing in that way, why not tools? And sure enough, the notepad disappears the moment she changes into a boy. It's almost like a videogame inventory, the way they can just pick something up, store it, and stop worrying about it like that.

There is a limit, they find out when they try to store a huge box full of all their All Might toys. If they can't carry it, they can't store it either. So they can't just pop a car out of existence, and then pop it back wherever they want.

Unless they could pick up a car.

Izuku hums to himself, formulating yet another new idea. Not all of their ideas come to fruition, but he's optimistic about this one.

Their mother is shocked at just how much Izuku's eating, but they've always been one of the smaller kids in their year, so she lets it slide. When she realises that Izuku's actually losing weight despite the mountains he inhales daily, she attributes his newfound appetite to his otherwise-unseen quirk, and it only takes a few weeks to get extra income support so she can feed them properly.

Despite this hiccup in their daily lives, Izuku's mom is happier than ever. Her son's quirk isn't invisible anymore!

When she says as much, Izuku almost can't bear not telling her the truth. But Kacchan's bullying has gotten worse lately, and Izuku just knows that if they say anything to anyone, it'll eventually spread to Kacchan. Having an unknown quirk means Kacchan hasn't written Izuku off completely, but having a 'useless' one? If Kacchan learns about that, he'll be worse than ever.

So Izuku doesn't tell her.

She's changing. Her hips are getting wider. He's getting taller, too, but his changes are much less obvious than hers.

When Kacchan pokes her one day and his finger squishes into her chest, she punches him in the face and runs away, beetroot. Kacchan doesn't follow, and he seems to second-guess that she was even Izuku. The bloody nose was probably very convincing - no way could useless Deku have done that.

His mother notices something different about her when she gets home, but she can't put her finger on it.

Izuku needs to be more careful.

She knows what to do. From now on, the girl is a secret identity.

Izuku's recent haircuts have taken longer than usual, since they'd keep changing back and forth so that both forms got the same haircut.

This time, he stays in his boy form the whole way through. His hairdresser is surprised at how much easier it is than usual, and when they're done, he grins at his reflection.

Perfect.

A few days later, seven sports bras are mistakenly delivered to the Midoriya household. No matter how anyone looks at it, the box is addressed to this home, so the bras end up stored in a cupboard and forgotten.

Izuku takes them. Luckily enough, they fit her girl form perfectly. He has to sneak them into the washing inside other bits of clothing, but his mom never manages to find them, until Izuku gets the bright idea to offer to do the washing himself.

Over the next year, a few more deliveries are made, which happen to coincide with the old ones growing too tight.

Izuku feels slightly less awkward but much more guilty with each theft, but she tells herself that she needs them and sucks it up.

Izuku's mom hasn't seen them as a girl since the haircut. To eat as a girl, he takes longer to eat than usual, and then takes it upstairs when she isn't paying much attention. If he can't escape the table, he changes whenever his mom looks away, and snaps back to being a boy when she turns to face him again. There are many, many close calls and dinner always leaves him ready to drop like a rock, but she never finds out his secret.

As Izuku gets older, his mother starts to notice various feminine products go missing, with coins appearing in their place. She just shrugs and buys more.

Izuku stays as a boy for school and home, but he only spends as much time there as he needs to.

With the extra, they train. He does mainly strength and endurance training, disguised as a cleanup operation for the trash-covered beach he found. She does mostly running and agility. When half of them is exhausted, they just switch to the other, and they can train both their bodies as much as anyone else could train theirs. It takes twice as long to train than it does for most people, but they can withstand twice the injury, so they think it evens out.

Besides, a little hard work never killed anybody.

Every day for months - and then years - he comes home worn down and exhausted - often more mentally than physically - but always beaming. His mother doesn't know what to make of it, but when asked, he just mentions that he needs to be strong to be a hero.

As a boy, Izuku bulks up within just a few months, still fairly mobile but specialising more in raw strength; at least, as much strength as a young teenager can have. As a girl, she stands an entire head smaller than him, and while her muscles aren't nearly as pronounced, she's far faster and lighter on her feet than he could hope to be.

Training continues, and while Izuku's grades slip very slightly, the Hero Course of UA has never seemed closer.

"Oh yeah, Midoriya was planning to go to UA too, wasn't he?"

Izuku, having previously tried to phase his head through his desk and just hide, groans to himself and braces as Kacchan slowly turns towards him.

Then the class bursts into laughter.

"I've never even seen him use his quirk!" one girl in the back exclaims.

"Studying won't get you superpowers, you know," a boy reasons, snickering.

Another one cackles, "you can't get on the course without a quirk!"

"They removed that rule," Izuku argues, figuring that if he wasn't going to go unnoticed, he could at least try to defend himself. "Besides, I do have one, it just isn't obvious right now."

A hand shoots out from Kacchan's direction in retaliation, but he slaps it to the side on reflex, and the resulting explosion makes Kacchan slip from the desk he was crouched on. The raging blond drops to the floor like a sack of bricks, and Izuku's stomach does a little loop at the trouble he's just gotten himself in.

The teacher pays little attention to the exchange, besides smirking at the problem child's misfortune. "Midoriya, perhaps you should think of a different profession to follow, which will better suit your... abilities," he suggests with a pitying look.

Unoccupied by Kacchan, the teacher is unnerved the fire in Izuku's eyes, but Izuku doesn't care. This is not a dream they'll give up on that easily.

Foreseeing an attack by Kacchan, Izuku changes when everybody's scrambling to leave. Kacchan spots her and makes a start in her direction, but then he pauses, growls and heads out the door, muttering about a 'slippery bastard'.

Looks like he bought the disguise. It's lucky he thinks his class is beneath him, otherwise he might have noticed that the nondescript girl sweating bullets wasn't a regular class member.

Izuku relaxes into a grin as she watches Kacchan's retreating back, then glances down at the notebook she'd stored in her girl form.

It's a fairly new one. No. 6 is written on the front, along with a crude sketch of Ingenium.

Izuku's been studying the quirks of several heroes, but after discovering so many subtleties of their own quirk, they've decided to go as in-depth as they possibly can on just their six favorite heroes. Well, they hadn't ever thought of a specific number to make, but every time they ran out of things to write about all the other heroes on their list, they added another notebook.

Naturally, All Might occupies notebook No. 1.

She opens the latest notebook, and her analysis continues from where it left off. Currently she's trying to figure out a way around Ingenium's difficulty in stopping and turning properly - he'd already had two accidents this month, and while he's effective at close-combat due to his quirk-enhanced punches, the ability to use his full running speed in alleyways and other tight spaces would make him even better at chasing down villains.

A bicycle would be too clumsy to use in combat, but it's the first thing that comes to mind, so she jots it down, along with a little argument between her optimistic side and her devil's advocate.

Roller blades or quad skates... a good direction to take, but the wheels would likely wear away too quickly at Ingenium's high speeds, and they'd get in the way of hand-to-hand combat. The material used for his current boots is shear-resistant, but only in certain directions, so wheels made of it would wear away unevenly. Instead, Ingenium needs wheels which only come out when they're needed, like landing gear.

Idea drawn in her mind, she hums to herself as her absent footsteps take her under a bridge, sketching a potential design for the mechanism involved.

Chapter Text

Izuku is special.

Inko knows this. He's cute as a button, sweet as anything, and he's always so honest, open and well-behaved that other parents are jealous of her good fortune.

More than anyone else, Izuku is someone that Inko can trust.

But she is still his parent. It's her job to make sure that he isn't picking up bad influences, or getting himself hurt. So despite her immense trust for Izuku, she follows him wherever he goes. Never overtly, and she rarely does more than watch, but she knows what Izuku's life is about.

Is he doing alright at school? Of course he is! His note-taking has almost become obsessive at this point; he wants to know as much about the world as he can cram into his head.

Is anyone picking on him? Well, Katsuki's getting a little cocky with his new quirk, but he still likes Izuku. She'll need to keep an eye on that one - it's starting to seem like he cares more about quirks than the people attached to them. But for now, he and Izuku are on good terms.

Is he looking at things he shouldn't online?

As Inko scrolls through Izuku's internet history, she notices something and pauses, frowning to herself. Now why would he be searching for 'provate [sic] parts'?

And the next page on the list is an image search of the same thing.

She knows that she should expect the worst from this information. Someone older at school must have corrupted him, showed him something they shouldn't, she should be thinking. But she can't bring herself to. Everything Izuku does is borne of his passion and goals - just look at his All Might collections, or his non-stop talking about quirks, or his two notebooks, still open on the computer desk!

So for now, she trusts him and moves forward. Gather facts, and form a conclusion at the end.

She follows his path through the web pages. It looks like the first picture Izuku picked was of female genitalia, very simply drawn but recognisable nonetheless. It leads to a wiki article which assuages some of her niggling worries. He's just being Izuku again, learning as he draws breath.

She notes that Izuku spent a lot of time on the article but didn't scroll down very far. She doesn't blame him - a lot of the language is far above what a five-year-old could be expected to understand. Instead, a hyperlink to 'simple wiki' is purpled out in the page's sidebar. She clicks it.

Izuku has read this new page properly.

On a hunch, Inko turns her attention to '0th Notebook' on the desk - the one Izuku has saved for his own quirk - and flips to the first page in the booklet.

'Girl Parts' is underlined at the top left. 'Quirk?' is scrawled on the top right.

As she reads through his observations, her brow begins to crease.

Inko wants to cry.

Izuku was dead-set on becoming a hero with an awesome quirk. But the one he got was... turning into a girl?

It seems too cruel that Izuku, the kindest, smartest person she's ever known, would be gifted the least combat-applicable quirk possible, when he wants so badly to be a hero like his idols.

And yet Izuku himself doesn't seem to mind. He's just as carefree as always.

She can't tell if he isn't aware of how... weak, for lack of a better term, his quirk is; or if it hasn't occurred to him that he won't get a chance to re-roll his quirk.

Either way, she needs to let him down gently.

Blinking through the blurriness in her eyes, Inko makes a call to the doctor.

"It's odd," the doctor tells them. "He's long past the age at which a quirk would manifest, and yet his toe doesn't have the extra joint to identify him as quirkless..."

"But what does that mean for him?" Inko asks. "He's wanted to be a hero for as long as he can remember!"

The doctor shrugs, eyes falling pityingly on Izuku. She hates having those eyes directed at her son, but in the end, this will be the best for him, so she endures it. "I'm sorry to say that probably isn't possible. Izuku likely has what's known as an invisible quirk - one so obscure, difficult to activate or with so little usability, that it's impossible to identify. Ninety-nine times of a hundred, having an invisible quirk is as good as being quirkless in a combat situation."

Inko's eyes well up immediately. To hear that from the doctor himself makes it so much more real.

Her son's eyes stay dry.

Instead of the tears she expected, he ducks his head. He's frowning at the floor, but it's clear that this isn't anger - his mind is working away. And when he looks up, the fire burning in his eyes is one that Inko regrets ever trying to extinguish.

Later, Inko reflects on the meeting with a wry smile.

After all is said and done, who would Izuku be without his unwavering spirit?

Inko wants so dearly to be a part of this new part of Izuku's life.

But after calling the doctor like that, she can't bring herself to tell him that she'd already known about his quirk. That she'd tried to quash that fire. She knows it's silly, that should she sit him down and explain her reasoning, he'd forgive her immediately and life would continue.

But this is Izuku's quirk - his power, his responsibility, and his discovery. The moment she tells him that she knows, she'll be taking his choices away from him.

He doesn't deserve that.

And neither does she.

So she bottles up her questions, her worries, her doubts. She can deal with them some other time.

Right now, Izuku's dream is waiting for him. And who is she to deny him?

Izuku's quirk is scary, Inko reflects, face ashen.

When he'd crawled into the kitchen, almost literally dead on his feet (not that he was able to stand up anyway), she'd stayed calm and gotten him some water and easily-digestible food, and sent him to lie down on the couch. She knows the symptoms of starvation and dehydration when she sees them, after all.

Izuku's been a girl for a week. She can only tell sometimes, like when he's at the table and sitting with his legs crossed in a different way, or when he's walking with more of a bounce to his step than usual, but those small moments are enough to know that he's staying as a girl.

So when Izuku, most likely male, stumbles in struggling to so much as exist, Inko knows that it's something to do with his quirk. She can only guess, but she thinks it's likely that the form he's currently in is the one that gets all the nutrients. So when he stayed as a girl, his male form was starved to near-death.

Scary.

Over the next months after Izuku's recovery, Inko watches him closely. He's clearly figured something out, because now his male and female form eat half of each meal each.

But he's still losing weight, so she doubles his portions. And the paperwork to get income support for this unexpected quirk is well worth the reward of seeing Izuku properly healthy for the first time since he got his quirk last year.

She still follows his internet history.

He's been delving deeper into the internet recently, spending more time online. LGBTQ+ websites become more commonplace as time goes on, but she can't tell what exactly he's been learning from them. There's so much information on each page, some of it only vaguely relating to what Inko knows of Izuku's quirk, that she can't get a clear idea of what he's looking for. Sometimes she wonders if his interest on this subject might eclipse that of heroics.

His trail branches ever outwards. First transgenderism, then sexuality, queerness, pride flags, and then before she knows it he's pursuing subjects that escape her (admittedly limited) knowledge. Pronouns, hormone therapy, dysphoria, and all manner of subjects are all explored. And as he goes further, she follows him on his wild ride, forming her own conclusions and doing her own extra research while never knowing what Izuku is taking away from all this.

But she's glad. This is something that Izuku can fall back on when Katsuki gets him down - which still isn't very often, since Izuku has a head three feet thick and Katsuki at least has a little respect for his unknown quirk. But whenever Izuku seems down, all it takes is a few-hours-long computer session to get him back to his thoughtful, happy-go-lucky self.

Inko's glad that Izuku has this outlet, she truly is... but he keeps silent about the subject. Whenever someone mentions their daughter being a 'girly girl' or a 'tomboy' - or anything relating to gender expression, really - his ears perk up and he gets this contemplative look; but he never actually says anything.

It'd be nice, she thinks, to get some insight into his mind.

And then one day, he leaves a pile of notebooks on the computer desk.

Honestly, she hadn't expected him to forget these again. The last time was more than four years ago, and even back then it had been a fluke - although she hadn't realised just how lucky she'd been to get a glimpse of that book at the time.

Inko grasps the air, coaxing the pile towards herself. There are three separate notebooks, and they're all part of Izuku's new 'Hero Analysis' series: the familiar All Might-themed (in both coloring and content) No. 1; No. 3, the latest of his works, which seemed to be about a hero called Eraser Head; and the coveted No. 0, for Izuku's own quirk.

She cracks No. 0 open to a random page, and is greeted by an oddly colored Pride flag, powerfully recreated with felt-tips. It's been so long since Izuku researched the flags that she would have to rack her brains for the meaning - if Izuku hadn't already provided some helpful notes in pink pencil, on top of each color.

It's the Non-binary Pride flag. Yellow for genders outside male or female, white for multiple genders, purple for combinations of male and female, and black for the absence of gender.

Even after all these years, Inko isn't certain how someone can be multiple genders, but she supposes that's just because she isn't one of those people herself - just as she can't imagine how someone could dedicate their entire lives to a single passion.

In both cases, her son is living proof that these kinds of people exist.

She flips to the next page, half-expecting another set of bright stripes, but a quick search indicates that the Non-binary flag is the only one in the notebook. In fact, there are several small doodles across the next few pages, of various animals, all using the yellow, white, purple, black color scheme of that particular flag.

So is that how Izuku identifies, then? Nonbinary? She supposes that he's probably part of the purple section, given his quirk.

There's a note on the previous page: 'pronouns depend on current form - use 'they' when talking about me overall'. So Izuku calls... themself(?) 'he' when he's a boy, or 'she' when she's a girl.

She wonders again how anyone could possibly be comfortable using different sets of pronouns, but she squashes the thought. She's Izuku's mother, and he doesn't need someone to judge him like that. He needs someone to- wait.

They need someone to support them.

That'll take some getting used to, but she'll bear it for Izuku.

So lost in her thoughts is she, that she almost forgets about Izuku's open notebook. But eventually she turns back to it, flipping to yet another random page. It's the pride flag again. That page is much thicker than the others, so that makes sense. She flips it again.

Finally, some details!

Izuku must be a genius.

There's no way of getting around that, even had she wanted to. If he applied to any of UA's courses besides the Hero course, he'd easily pass their exams.

They. If they applied.

But still. Izuku has a quirk with a single effect: turn into a girl and back. And yet he's - they've done so much with it, and thought of so much more to do, that Inko can't even say it's a weakness anymore.

It starts off fairly tame: swapping clothes whenever they switch between male and female. But then it goes on to suggest storing items in the same way, and there's a big check-mark next to that, so clearly it worked.

Then it mentions training, and separating different types of training for each form; that explains where they've been going for hours each day, then. But there's also a section that mentions how injuries and exhaustion don't pass between forms, so they could outlast opponents easily, and come out with fewer injuries per form. It even mentions how sneak attacks are much less effective against Izuku.

And then there are a few other suggestions: disguise, immunity to certain quirks, teleportation?! How would that even work? Not that it matters, because that half-check-mark with 'need more practice' clearly shows that it did work!

She re-amends her previous thought: If they applied to any of UA's courses, they'd easily pass their exams.

Izuku must be a genius, and Inko couldn't be prouder.

Izuku's twelve when they hit puberty as a girl. Inko vividly remembers noticing, because she comes home blushing to the roots of her hair, a hand clutched protectively over her chest. The other hand is bright red. If she had to hazard a guess, she'd say that someone inadvertantly touched her chest.

Which leads Inko to notice the slight bumps under Izuku's shirt.

It pains her to do this, but she mentions noticing a difference in Izuku. It's only a half-truth - she's been able to tell Izuku's current gender for a good year or two now - but it has the desired effect.

Izuku changes into a boy, and from that moment Inko doesn't see her as a girl again, except out of the corner of her eye. It's necessary though. If Izuku doesn't realise the difference between their two forms, they're likely to be caught by someone else in the future. This way, they'll be more careful from the get-go.

It still hurts.

But even as secretive as Izuku is (as we both are, a voice calls from the back of her mind), she can still help. She can still be there for them.

And that starts with making her comfortable, she thinks, browsing the web for sports bras.

She's used to Izuku changing gender every other moment during a haircut. She's told the hairdresser that it's probably some kind of deja-vu quirk, which causes their body to periodically rewind, repairing any changes made. The dresser believes her and is careful to get everything.

This time, Izuku doesn't change. From the way he shuffles in his seat, his male form is the one getting the haircut, and his female form is going without.

Izuku's smile when they're finished is filled with mischief, a strange look to see on her child. But she thinks she knows what's going on.

She starts brainstorming girls' names, because Izuku is terrible at naming things, and that includes herself. That she wants to have a little say in their life is neither here or there.

Izuku's training is picking up, and their grades are dropping noticeably. Still, they're well on track for completing the written test, so Inko's glad they're focussing on the practice exam.

She can't overstate (or overthink) how proud she is every time she sees him. She hugs him even more often than usual now, and while she can't really get an accurate assessment of his build through his increasingly battered uniform, she can tell that all the training has done him a world of good.

She can't get any kind of assessment on her, but she imagines that Izuku's girl form is just as well-off, from the glimpses she gets during meals when Izuku thinks she isn't looking.

Izuku didn't win the quirk lottery, Inko will readily admit. But when you can take two-thousand yen, invest it and get hundreds of millions in return, the lottery doesn't seem all that important anymore. And metaphorically, that's exactly what Izuku's done.

Inko's so proud, and she's not sure she'll ever get over that.

Not that she wants to.

Chapter Text

Had she walked just slightly quicker, Izuku might have gone straight into the embrace of the slime villain as he slopped through the sewer grate.

Eugh, is all she can think as she closes notebook No. 6. He's probably absolutely coated in germs.

"Oh, a vessel," the villain cackles, slowly encroaching like she wouldn't notice when he's right in front of her. "Not what I'd usually go for, but I can't complain given the circumstances-"

He cuts off abruptly, lunging towards her, and she deftly slips to the side. "W-who are you?" she asks shakily, honestly terrified of him - but she just needs to stall, right? Stall until someone else can get help?

She glances around, but she can't see anyone else around around here. "None of your business," the villain snaps. He clearly knows what her plan is, because a wave of gunk slams into her before she can react, the uncontrolled force flipping her around and knocking her prone.

Her chin clacks heavily against the floor and she lets out a whoof of air, but despite the spots in her vision, she makes another attempt to move-

"TEXAS..."

Izuku automatically checks her mind for All Might's collateral record. Thankfully, there's nothing there to remember, so instead of fleeing as she might from another hero's area of effect (say, Endeavor), she spins on her knees to watch first-hand her childhood hero at work.

"SMASH!"

She's blown onto her rump by the wind, but the villain fares much, much worse. The lone set of teeth clattering on the floor is a testimony to that. It's also vaguely disturbing to look at.

All Might stands proudly for a moment, dressed in oversized yet tightly-fitting civilian wear that clearly shows this is cutting into his personal time. Izuku feels a little guilty, especially with what she knows about him.

But wait, she can help him!

With insane speed and accuracy that nobody else without a very specific quirk could match, All Might scoops the remainder of the goop into a few bottles - clearly Texas Smash vaporised a large quantity of it, which probably meant that it has a lower or equal boiling point to water, considering All Might's current average power output. The eyes and mouth still move of their own volition, though, so the brain is likely able to shift to inhabit undamaged parts of the gunk.

An amazing quirk like that, and this guy's a villain? That's actually kind of upsetting.

"Indeed it is," All Might agrees with his signature grin turned in her direction, and Izuku tunes back into the real world, realising with a blush that she's been muttering again. "You have an incredibly sharp mind, deducing all of that from what little you must have seen from the villain. You wish to be a hero, yes?"

"O-of course!" Izuku nods with a beaming smile. She's talking to All Might! "You've been my inspiration for so long, I- wait, let me just-"

She cuts off, focussing on her backpack and the notebook splayed open on the floor. That one's Ingenium, she recalls, deftly folding it closed and piling it into the back, before turning her attention to the other books inside as she leafs through them. Japanese, English, Mathematics, Notebook No. 0-

Wait, All Might's getting ready to jump! She can't let him leave now, even if his time limit is almost up! She needs to help-

Suddenly she's flying through the air, grappling onto the leg of her idol.

At first she locks onto the leg with a death-grip, but then the rustling of her still-open bag draws her attention.

Just when No. A - the study on famous non-combat quirks - is about to fly from its still-open storage, she realises that she's already been given the kinetic energy that she needs to follow the same arc as All Might, so she's free to make a grab for it without losing him.

She does.

Once No. A is back in its rightful place, she figures that there's no point wasting this extra time, so she dives back into the bag to search for No. 1.

This kid is insane, is Toshinori's first thought when she latches onto his leg just as he makes his leap into the distance, which was supposed to let him escape and keep his secret hidden.

Then she lets go.

To search through her backpack.

Logically, that makes a certain amount of sense. Toshinori's never been especially academically inclined, but even he knows how momentum works. But still, it's difficult to believe that someone would place so much trust in him - even being the symbol of peace that he is - that they'd let go of their lifeline like that.

That she'd do that for something as mundane as protecting her books... this kid's kind of scary.

With a sigh, he gently wraps a hand around her waist and pulls her towards himself. It wouldn't do to have her Smash her head into the concrete, after all.

Idly, he wonders which state he'd need to call on in that instance. Probably Florida; it'd fit right in with their wacky news stories.

They land fairly lightly on top of a roof - he's made that exact jump thrice during his time here, fortunately enough - and the girl stumbles and regains her balance without ever looking away from the books she's been sorting through - and it looks like she found the one she's looking for, if her cry of "a-ha!" is anything to go by.

He can already feel the tell-tale strain of his body's attempt to return to normal. But he can't just run, can he? He needs to give a proper excuse or this kid might just try to figure out why the No. 1 Hero fled without so much as a goodbye.

Granted he's already tried that (and it was a dumb, split-second decision, he chastises himself), but to do it again would really be pushing his luck.

The girl takes a calming breath, and holds up one of her many notebooks. "All Might, I know you're not at full strength anymore, and I think I..."

...What?

What?!

Why does she know that? How could she know that? She's just some kid! Why did he have to cross paths with the only person to figure out his weakness by herself in such a long time? Why is she a kid?!

She's stopped talking now, but try as Toshinori Might to play back the conversation, it seems to have passed straight between his ears as he had his little breakdown.

The notebook's still hovering in front of him courtesy of a tiny hand, so to take his mind off the fact that this insane girl knows about his injury, he takes it.

Upsettingly familiar skeletal arms come into view.

Ah.

"I think I'll have to rework some of my ideas," the girl murmurs, peering at his true form from several different angles, and he feels strangely exposed despite wearing clothes big enough to parachute with. "I knew you had some kind of injury - you always favor your left side since five years ago, after all - but I didn't realise it was preventing you from eating properly too. I assume you've already been seen by doctors soyoushouldprobablyignorethepartsabou..." Here she devolves into muttering that even Toshinori, with his endless experience dealing with starstruck gibbering, can't begin to decode. She pulls out a pen, as if to jot something down in yet another notebook (And how many of those does she have, Toshinori finds himself wondering).

He sighs, finally looking to the cover of the book in his hand.

"Hero Analysis 2.0, Number 1: All Might," he reads. He thinks he'd be more flattered if it weren't for the fact that this kid knows his secret (and he knows he's hung up on that fact, but it's kind of a big deal that a mere child has enough information to figure that out, given that his enemies could certainly do the same).

He flips to the first page, which jumps right into the thick of things with a mostly blank page, the word Alabama written at the top. He flips the page again, and realises when the next two page spread has the titles Alaska and Arizona, that it's a catalogue of his current and potential Smash moves.

Now he actually is flattered, as he flips over to North Carolina. It's one of his lesser-used attacks these days - Carolina Smash is his go-to chopping move, since he can't get much power behind a single-handed chop anymore - but clearly the kid's done some research. In fact, there's a list of all five times All Might has publically performed the attack since his injury, with an estimated power output for each one, and a comparison with pre-injury versions of the same move.

That explains it then. This girl is some kind of analytical genius.

Wondering just how deep this rabbit hole goes, Toshinori bookmarks that page with a finger, and flips all the way over to South Carolina, the move's left-handed variant. If his hunch is correct... it is. The kid (he really needs to get a name) notes how little he's used South Carolina Smash, how he always uses it against the weakest enemies, and on a little scrap of paper which has been painstakingly pasted in, pieces together where exactly the injury might be, and that All Might wants to hide his weakness and present himself as an unshakeable pillar.

It's a frighteningly accurate assessment; she's guessed wrongly that the injury was on his back since he's actually less careful with his front than he strictly should be, but otherwise he'd think she was spouting facts instead of theories. Toshinori knows how little information there is of him as a living, breathing being as opposed to some god among men. The ability to spot such well-hidden flaws, especially through the haze of hero-worship that the girl clearly has based on her starry eyes and All Might-themed rucksack, is a skill that many heroes could only dream of rivalling.

But he still doesn't see why she gave this to him. It's clear that she doesn't just want to be praised, with a mind like that. She obviously believes that whatever's in this book will help him. And despite the tens of specialists who aren't able to help an iota, he finds himself optimistic.

So he turns forward the pages, through all the other US states, past the gushing praise and what he already knows, through the evolution of his hero costume, and finally comes to a stop at the page titled simply: Ideas.

It takes a moment to decipher the seemingly random sets of words like 'wide-area force, p67', 'aerial recoil dissipation, p82' and 'exo-skeleton a-la Skeletoni, p59', but with a glance back at the title, he realises:

These are Ideas.

When All Might emits a gurgling cough and spits blood to the side, Izuku isn't sure what to do. They'd never expected to meet their hero in the first place, but to see him in such a weak position, having hitched a ride on his leg just minutes before...

She's known about his injury for a few months now, but this hits a little too close to home.

"Is this normal?" she asks warily. She doesn't want want to panic when this is probably a common occurrence for him, but at the same time, coughing blood isn't usually a sign of impeccable health.

"Yeah, nothing new to see here. Most of my stomach is gone, this is kind of a given. I've gotten used to it." He grins at her though, eyes wild with energy that she hadn't seen in him since his All Might form boiled away. "I'd all but given up ever staying a Hero, but these ideas of yours are truly magnificent! I'd wager that this exo-skeleton design..." he points to the corresponding diagram, and Izuku can't help but blush and look down, "could keep me in the business for at least another two years, and the training regimes might keep me going for five! What's your name, young lady?"

Izuku freezes. She knows that All Might might want to find her in the future to discuss some of the weirder ideas. But if he does that by knocking on the door, Izuku's mom will answer. Their mom thinks he's a boy but All Might thinks she's a girl...

But if he asks for a different name, their mom might get suspicious.

"I'm Izu," she states firmly, silently thanking her mom for going through all those baby names. "Midoriya Izumi."

"My name is Yagi Toshinori. I can't thank you enough for this opportunity."

All Might bows.

Izuku's world breaks.

Chapter Text

After the encounter with their greatest hero, even swapping bodies does little to help Izuku's state of mind. Well, the lowered heart-rate and lack of physical stress help at first, but then he reboots the accursed process known as thought, and ends up managing to convince his male body into just as panicked a state as Izumi.

Izumi. Now there's something else to think about. He latches onto the name and breathes deeply, his heartbeat slowing to a steady thrum.

It's a nice name. They've decided before today, thanks to mom, that if they ever need a name for their female form, Izumi would be the one they'd go for. It's a little obvious, but the ability to be called "Izu" in both forms will help to cut down the chance of their quirk being discovered in certain situations. They think.

Izuku has no doubt that they'll need to work some miracles if they want to keep their identities separate for much longer. For one, if All Might ever decides to visit their mother, the results would not be pretty. But if they can keep the two separated, they can hopefully prevent any conversation between them from becoming long enough to realise the inconsistencies.

At least until Izuku is ready to tell.

Izuku's thoughts are blasted out through his ears by a strangely familiar boom that resounds through the air. His head whips in the direction of the noise, and even through the towering skyline he can see part of what must be a gigantic cloud of smoke.

Usually, this wouldn't be something Izuku goes to see, but if they know anything about All Might, it's that he'll risk his own safety to bring down whatever villain disturbed the peace, regardless of any limitations of his body. So he switches over to Izumi, takes a moment to calm down her thumping heart, and sets off at what most would call a mad dash - though to her it's a fairly leisurely run - towards the towering cloud that blots out the sky.

There's a bunch of heroes here already.

She spots Kamui Woods, carrying half a dozen citizens to safety with his branches. With the force of periodic fiery explosions rattling nearby windows, he probably can't apprehend the villain for fear of being set alight.

Backdraft can't do much directly either. He's needed elsewhere, with the explosions causing so many fires nearby.

Mount Lady can't even get onto the scene without causing property damage. She won't be much help - she should probably hurry to get backup. Maybe even carry them here.

Izumi spots a hero she doesn't know. He's too slow to make a proper attack on whatever villain is nearby and his quirk just seems to be enhanced strength concentrated in his arms, but he's certainly using it wisely - just as he positions himself seemingly randomly, a chunk of building crumbles and he's able to shield the citizens below from the majority of rubble. She can't help but wonder how much easier his job would be if he learned how to use his arm strength to pull himself around more quickly, but he's certainly doing a good job.

She finally runs out of breath and breaks into a cough, forced to switch to Izuku to let Izumi catch her breath. As he weaves between the crowds, impeded a little by his slightly bulkier figure, he can't quite get a glimpse of the villain...

And then he does.

He knows.

Villain: sludge. Hostage: Kacchan. Time to plan: none.

Danger: risk of outing Izumi. Losing that shield. Dying.

It doesn't matter. He's running anyway.

His form flickers and his rucksack is suddenly empty, the contents stored with his quirk. His mind goes to the dumbbells he has, and he feels the bag's weight shift. Perfect. He shrugs it off his back and just as the villain starts cackling, he swings.

Four teeth come out.

Dimly, he's fascinated by the blood oozing from his enemy's gums. Where does it come from if the rest of him is sludge? There's no time for theorising though, so he takes the opportunity, as the villain howls with pain, to vanish the dumbbells, open the zipper, and swing again.

This time, the bag catches and when he wrenches on it, a big yellow eyeball is torn from its socket - or whatever classifies as a socket, at least. The villain's shout turns into a screech of anger and he can't help but grin. Izuku could never beat this guy in a full-on fight, but with a bargaining chip? Well, it depends on how much he values depth-perception.

Abruptly remembering Kacchan, Izuku swaps over to their female form, glancing at their long-time bully. He's still struggling to get free, hopefully too hard to have gotten a good look at his savior. His mouth is freed for a moment as he tears away at the slime, and Izuku watches him grimly suck in a breath.

"Yhou!" The villain cries, recognising her new form. He makes to lunge for Izumi, but a raised fist, pointed towards the wriggling backpack, stops him short.

"Drop the boy and I won't send this eye to another dimension," she tells him. Her voice is shaking from the previous run and the fear, but given what she's already accomplished, she doesn't think it undermines her authority much.

The villain snarls. "Haf 'im," he lisps through his bloody mouth, and she's sent sprawling as Kacchan is ejected bodily into her stomach. The rucksack is torn from her hands with the eye still inside, but she's still smiling.

Izumi lost her bargaining chip, but in his anger, the villain lost both his hostage and power. And that means...

"Surrender now!" Shouts Kamui Woods, finally able to engage.

Pinned underneath a thoroughly stunned Kacchan, Izumi grins. This is a victory.

Izumi knows Kacchan well enough to realise that he doesn't suspect a thing. He looks frustrated and humiliated at his inability to fend off the villain, but rather than exploding into a flurry of curses, he gives Izumi a once-over and a curt nod as they watch the villain, restrained by Backdraft's water manipulation and being carted off into a police car. Both eyes are accounted for and fully functional... the same can't be said for his teeth.

"Planning on becoming a hero?" Kacchan asks, and she ducks her head, half to nod and half out of embarrassment. Not much use denying it after pulling those moves. Kacchan would figure her out immediately. "Good. I'll see you in UA. Don't fucking embarrass us, bag-girl," he warns, and she knows the implication: Don't fail the exam, on threat of death.

Then he walks away.

She blinks.

Oh no.

Worst case scenario.

They've met someone in both of their forms, and that someone has a separate opinion of each form. And that someone just happens to be Kacchan.

If he were anyone else, they'd just pull him to the side and spill the beans at the earliest opportunity. No use getting into some huge, sprawling misunderstanding and having to pick up the pieces afterwards. Once that kind of damage has been done, it's better to try and make an ally out of the situation rather than risking making an enemy.

But Kacchan? Tell him that the person who saved him, whom he's been forced to respect as an equal, is also the weak, defenseless Deku that he puts down on a weekly basis?

No way. Leave it a few years and he might forget about one of their forms. Or they could pass it off as a test of Kacchan's observation skills, or spout some nonsense about respecting him too much to feed him the information.

Yeah, that could work. If Kacchan starts to respect Izumi enough to hear her out without blowing her face off after the big reveal.

...

Okay, so maybe it couldn't work.

But with the only other option being to light the half-second fuse that is Bakugou Katsuki at point-blank range?

She'll take her chances.

It's amazing how long the time has stretched. Between meeting All Might, having him bow to them, fighting a villain (twice!), being alternately praised and berated by pro heroes, saving Kacchan and getting into a horrible tangle of relationships that they just know will come back to bite them in the worst possible way... it's only been about an hour.

That can't be right.

Izuku pulls his phone from the pocket dimension yet again, reads the time yet again, and vanishes it with a sigh when the first two digits are, yet again, 16.

There's no way it shouldn't be bedtime already. His mind's certainly ready for bed; it takes a conscious effort to carry on walking in the direction of home, rather than just curling up in the nearest tree and drifting off.

The relaxing drizzle of rain and the slight chill of droplets on his arms certainly aren't helping.

When he finally gets home, his mother is already serving a gigantic dinner. Thankfully it's a slow-cooked curry today, so it hasn't gone cold in his absence.

He chokes on the first mouthful when the news catches the attention of his sleepy brain:

Teenager Performs Brutal Rescue from Slime Villain!

The onscreen reporter is speaking, backed by an extraordinarily familiar, and mostly destroyed, alleyway. "...Villain attacks have been more common in recent years than ever before, but this is one attack that certainly didn't go as planned.

An unnamed young man was taken hostage here this afternoon, by a villain with a body made almost entirely of sludge - last seen fleeing from All Might himself in the early afternoon. What could have turned into a sad affair for many however, ended in a no-holds-barred beatdown courtesy of a young stranger with some devastating techniques!

The hostage situation had been going on for a few minutes, with nearby heroes's quirks being unsuited for the area or the hostage's powerful explosive quirk. That's when a young figure was seen sprinting from the gathered crowd into the alleyway where this all took place.

Only glimpses of the fight itself were seen, but the villain came out of the fray missing four teeth and an entire eye, which the kid apparently tore right from his head!

The villain has been detained and now has his eye back in place, and is receiving treatment from within a cozy jail cell for his missing teeth. Meanwhile, the stranger is unlikely to be identified due to conflicting reports as to their appearance. While eyewitness accounts from many bystanders describe the person as a well-built teenage boy, the teen that the heroes found involved in the fight was clearly a petite but otherwise plain girl with no defining features.

No matter who this mysterious person is though, the heroes on the scene had glowing praise for their quick actions, despite the apparently violent approach."

The wooden mask of Kamui Woods flashes onscreen, and Izuku automatically rubs the back of his head, flushed. First the No. 1 Hero bows to them, and now Kamui Woods is about to praise them live on air?

Forget the fights; if this is how heroes are treated, Izuku might just drop from a heart attack one day.

Kamui Woods hms at the camera. "Whoever this girl was, she showed incredible resourcefulness and cunning for someone her apparent age. Rather than fighting the villain head-on, she took him by surprise and struck fast, debilitating him by aiming for his weak-point, then most likely using that distraction to steal an eye and hold it ransom for the hostage's life.

It was a cold, calculated move and might seem more fitting of a vigilante than a hero, but it ensured that all parties left the commotion relatively safely, and for that she is to be commended. I, for one, am glad she intervened when she did, and I look forward to working with her if she decides to one day become a fully-fledged hero."

That heart attack might be coming sooner rather than later.

Finally remembering the bowl - sized for people with gigantification quirks - of slowly cooling curry, Izuku takes a spoon and wolfs half of it down, thankful that their mom's left the room as they switch to Izumi for the other half.

There are ten months until the UA entrance exams.

Izuku isn't worried about the written exams. From searching online, they can tell that it's mostly 'explain your reasoning' questions. After keeping a hero journal and analysing the quirks of heroes, that's the type they're best at! In fact, common to each year of the test is a series of questions involving the in-depth analysis of the user's own quirk, which for Izuku is essentially just free points!

They really have to thank Froppy properly for that last bit of info; she's apparently an aspiring hero herself - a rarity on the Trans forums, given that the job usually requires a certain level of positive body image - so she's been going up to heroes left and right, and bluntly asking them for advice.

According to her, over half the heroes with any good advice went through UA and recommend that she tries hard to do the same. And one of the more common instructions so far is to 'know your quirk, inside and out'.

So the written exams will be a cinch. Well, assuming they're not forced to give up the secret of Izumi. But since there's only one hero they know of with a quirk-identifying quirk, and she was still doing full-time hero work around the time of this year's exam (and they only know that because the Wild Wild Pussycats are a hot topic on the Trans forum, with Tiger as a member), Izuku has to assume that she won't be in UA next year either, and that their secret is safe.

No, what Izuku's worried about now is the practical.

Dagobah beach is almost entirely clear now, and while even more people came to dump their trash than usual as it became obvious that it would all be cleared out anyway, that's starting to peter out as it becomes more and more difficult to hide anything new in the few remaining heaps of scrap metal and plastic. Soon enough, Izuku will need to find a new way to train.

They can't afford proper training equipment, and they can't bear not clearing up the last specks on an otherwise stunning beach... but without either of those options, how can they grow stronger in time for the exams?

And then the problem solves itself when during his final cleanup session, hidden beneath a mustard-splattered but probably still functional microwave, is a wad of bills with a note on top:

'As thanks for a job well-done. We fixed up the stuff and sold it off, and this is some of what we got.'

He already feels tears welling up, scanning the beach and the nearby road but finding nobody. And, well, he's not going to take it for granted but he has to know how much there is here, right?

So he counts.

And counts.

300,000 Yen.

The tears fall from his face now, making new splotches on the still-damp sand below, but even so he's smiling. "Somebody noticed!" he realises, and it sounds dumb because he's been doing this for years so obviously someone noticed, but he'd never considered that somebody would notice and remember.

And multiple somebodies too, according to the note.

And now Izuku doesn't have to worry. This is plenty of money to buy whatever training equipment - proper training equipment - that their bodies might need.

Some weights, a... an arm-pulley-thing machine...

They don't know the first thing about training machines, they realise sheepishly.

"On second thought," he says to himself half in jest, "maybe finding a new dump would be easier."

Chapter Text

Technically Izuku can still only store things which are light enough to pick up.

That doesn't mean that they can only store that much at any one time though. Theoretically, they could store an entire car if they took each piece of it individually.

Of course, there is some kind of limit. Izuku's quirk reacts strongly to their thoughts. Izuku can only remember a certain number of objects at once, so that's the limit to how many objects they can store.

They can trick their memory though, allowing them to store more than they normally would. They could store 600 pencils with no problem at all, as long as all the pencils look identical. If the pencils are bound together into 6 packs of 100, and the packs are also identical, they become even easier to store. They also don't need to know the exact details of each object, although the stronger an image they have in their head, the more space is freed up for other things - so their notebooks and clothes, which they know front and back and have been storing on and off for years on end, are fair game.

So with all that in mind, Izuku makes the natural assumption that the rest of their quirk depends on their mind too. Which is great, because the mind is much less concrete with rules than the laws of physics tend to be.

And that's what brings them to this.

Izumi burns her glare onto the mop in her hands, and yet it refuses to do what she wants. It's been a while since they've expanded their quirk directly, invested into physical training as they were. They've almost forgotten the frustration of wanting to do something and just not being able.

Almost. This does bring back some very irritating memories after all.

Clearly this isn't working. Maybe their brain needs some sort of kick-start. A point to focus on.

She swings the mop experimentally, considering the weight in her hands. It's one of those cheap, old-fashioned wooden ones which have become more common recently, since plastics can be so hard to come by - quirks that can create such complex synthetic materials are among the rarest, while quirks that accelerate tree growth or otherwise allow the creation of wood are only eclipsed in number by elemental kinesis quirks.

She shakes her head. Focus!

The mop. It's wooden. The handle's a fair amount longer than she is tall. As Izuku, it would still tower over him. She swings it again, and with the weight on the end, it almost pulls itself from her hands.

Oh, that works.

She focusses hard on that distinction. The evenly weighted handle and the centrifugal... centripetal..? The drag of the mop's head. Whatever that drag is specifically, she doesn't need to know except in concept.

Still waving it around like she's taking part in some odd ritual, she concentrates...

And as her form flickers to Izuku for just a moment, the handle vanishes, leaving the head to drop onto the ground below. Perfect.

And yet...

"I just got comfortable," Izumi mutters under her breath, gazing balefully at the remainder of the mop sitting on the grass several feet below. it's not often you find such an amazing climbing tree, and she bemoans her misfortune at having to leave her spot in the branches as she attempts (and fails) to convince herself into an upright position so she can retrieve it.

Whatever. She can collect it later.

For now, she spawns notebook No. 0 and a pen into her hands, turning to the list of experiments so she can jot down her latest findings. She flicks through the pages to the Potential Uses section - now a crammed mess of a two-page spread - and puts a big checkmark next to 'Splitting objects in half'. After some consideration, she addends it with 'needs practice, possibly requires tactile distinction between parts'.

She's about to close the book and vanish it when the next line catches her eye: 'Ranged storage'.

She remembers this one. The idea is that if Izuku can visualise the air as a sort of chain attached to whatever object they want to store, they can then store the chain and the object together - in practice meaning that they could store the object from a range, or even around corners.

Even for their usual ideas, this one's extremely unlikely to come to fruition. Besides possibly the air in their lungs, Izuku's only really stored solids and the occasional fully-contained liquid and gas. Open air is difficult to imagine being connected to anything, let alone as a rope long enough to be useful.

No time like the present though, right?

In the end, this idea turns out similarly to the teleportation: technically plausible, but far too difficult to achieve in the forseeable future without a mental workaround.

She only marks it with a half-check, but it's not as frustrating a failure as she's used to, because in the end she does get another pretty cool skill to play around with.

She tests it out again. Imagining the air as a rope doesn't come at all naturally, but if she drags her hand through it, she can certainly visualise it as a series of particularly light blankets.

She separates out in her mind the volume of the blankets that she wants to retrieve, and with a swish of her arm to get the particles spiralling the way she wants, she grasps and pulls. The surrounding air collapses into the sudden void with a sharp crack, and she smiles. It isn't especially powerful, but it could certainly disorient a target - especially if used right next to their ears from a distance.

She has the idea to use it on a person's lungs to literally steal their breath for a moment, but dismisses it immediately. Assuming they'd be able to visualise the complexity of the lungs in the first place, the vacuum would easily damage them and probably cause scarring.

Besides, this opens up another, more potentially destructive possibility. If they can store air, that also means they can release it too. And since air, unlike solids, can be pressurised...

She holds out her hand and dredges up the several volumes of air she's stored over the past hour. She overlays them into the same space in her mind's eye, and releases them all.

Honestly, she probably should've expected that she'd be flung bodily from the tree's boughs. Still, she jots it down as a success even as her back vehemently begs to differ.

Toshinori stares at his crisp, newly-bought notebook with no small amount of trepidation. He can't remember opening a book with the intention of writing more than a signature in it in... probably since his school days, actually.

For a mere pen to feel so alien and wrong in his hand nowadays is a little depressing.

That he's already gotten stuck on the title is even more so.

Eventually, he settles on just emulating young Midoriya with the name 'Self-Analysis No. 1: All Might', equipping his hero name with that iconically uncooperative V of hair.

Then he gives up.

No, he retreats to regain his bearings. Heroes don't give up.

Regardless, he turns back to young Midoriya's (discomfortingly perfect) handwriting. So many of the ideas here have some real potential to increase his time as a hero, and he's trying to list them in order of that potential in his new notebook, but it's daunting to say the least.

He's not scared. He's just apprehensive of missing or mis-interpreting a good idea.

...Okay, he's scared. He can admit that much, at least.

He pushes his empty notebook away with a sigh. He can't just spend his time listing solutions to his problems when he could be testing them out instead. All this careful planning just isn't his style.

He skims across the cluttered page for an idea he remembers seeing on the day he was given the book.

"Aerial recoil dissipation, page 82," he reads aloud. He's not sure what this 'aerial' part is referring to, but the rest of it sounds perfect for increasing his time limit.

It is perfect. Almost too much so.

Toshinori isn't in his All Might form. He's not channeling the power of One For All through his body.

And yet he's never felt more powerful.

Yellow and blue lightning crackles through the air around him, barely contained by what he had just this morning considered a total mastery of his quirk. He can't move for fear of losing his grip on the unbridled energy.

If he loses that control, he could level the entire street in an instant. Easily.

Slowly, steadily, he reigns back One For All from its full 100%.

90.

80.

60.

35.

It's at a miniscule 7% when he finally feels able to walk freely while maintaining control over the airborne power. The fizz of energy now crackles just barely above his skin, and he marvels at the sensation of power so close to his fingertips but still so active. Like he's not containing it as he usually does, just allowing it to orbit him, surround him.

He takes a step towards the back garden's gate, hoping to get used to walking around like this, and when he trips on a rock he slips-

When Tsukauchi Naomasa arrives twenty minutes later, informed of a mysterious explosion in the area, he takes one look at the splintered remains of Toshinori's garden and raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

"Please come in," Toshinori offers sheepishly.

The eyebrow is not lowered.

"Do you think you can move?" Naomasa asks from the sidelines. Toshinori nods. "Safely?"

"...Yes," he replies. Naomasa clearly feels a twinge from his quirk, but he makes no comment on it because Toshinori's fairly certain that he can indeed move safely.

He's operating on just 5% now that they're practicing indoors. If he loses control at this power, the brick walls should just about hold and Naomasa shouldn't be too badly harmed - although he can't say the same about the furniture, as little as there is in his impromptu training room.

He takes a step forwards, careful to avoid slipping on the wooden floorboards.

His control holds.

"Amazing," Naomasa breathes. "I'd never realised just how powerful you are... even at 5% I can see the energy so clearly."

"This is news to me too," he reminds. "Young Midoriya's ideas are just remarkable."

"Midoriya? Is that the child who gave you that notepad?"

He gives a non-committal hum, too invested in holding his control to put much mind to the conversation. When the question finally filters into his brain, he nods with a grin at the memory. "Hitched a ride on my leg just to deliver it to me. She'll be at the top one day, I know it."

"You'd lift her there yourself if you needed to, wouldn't you," Naomasa states more than asks. He doesn't get a reply; they both know he's right.

Instead, Toshinori turns to the haphazardly-made training dummy across the room - an old but useful gift from a (comparatively) well-meaning if slightly stalker-ish ex-villain who's recently been released from prison. It's been empowered with her quirk to leave a duplicate if it would otherwise take damage, and it's made from natural materials so he can toss the broken copies without feeling guilty for the environment.

He can almost hear her voice, after all these years. He shudders.

He doesn't draw back a fist. He doesn't throw a punch. He just raises an arm towards the dummy and wills the energy forwards.

It responds as easily as ever, if less precisely. He feels the air around him rush ahead to strike the dummy, and the torso of the newly-spawned duplicate is blasted away with a crunch of crumbling straw.

He inspects his hand. No broken bones, no bruising. Nothing.

"Amazing."

He trains in near-silence for almost an hour after that, Naomasa keeping an eye out for any signs of stress or injury.

"Have you thought about choosing Midoriya as your successor?" his friend eventually asks him as he paces, acclimatising to the feeling of holding One For All without his body as a medium. He's still only on 5%, and even then it's surprisingly difficult to direct so much raw power through the constantly shifting air.

"I have."

"And?"

"I think it would put her in undue distress," he sighs, adding another dismembered training dummy to the growing pile. "To her it would be like I'm admitting defeat. And... I know I'll need to give up One For All someday, but that day's starting to seem further and further away. Is it selfish to want to keep it as long as I possibly can?"

"At this point, All Might-sama, you're more than entitled to a little selfishness. How many hundreds of people have you saved in the past year alone?"

"Far less than I could in a month before my injury," he laments. "I just feel like I've been giving less and less to society, and still taking more and more for myself. Does that make sense?"

"It makes the same kind of twisted sense you always make when you talk about your ’selfishness’,” Naomasa mutters with a grimace. “Without you there wouldn’t be a society; take the time to experience what you’ve worked so hard to save all these years.”

Naomasa’s said the same for so long. But for the first time, Toshinori listens.

”...I saw this coffee shop a few days ago if you have the time,” he finds himself saying.

Naomasa beams.

Chapter Text

It's finally time.

They think that, and yet the past 10 months have been something of a blur for Izuku. The countless hours of experimenting and training body, mind and quirk; thousands of failures and successes alike... those have all been compacted into a single speck in the corner of their mind.

Izumi's taken the bus to UA today, to save energy. She probably wouldn't have been winded even if she'd jogged all the way here - and they aren't even planning for Izumi to show up in the practical in the first place - but Izuku isn't taking any risks. They need to be ready: mind, body and backup body.

When she spots the front gates opened into UA's sprawling campus, she spins on her heel to check that the coast is clear. Izuku's male form completes the rotation with a bounce in his step at such a flawless transition, and he happily strides into the grounds as though nothing of interest has just taken place.

Inwardly, he's worried. He'd still be just as worried with all the preparation conceivable though, so he allows that thought to blunt his anxiety and goes over his plan of attack for the umpteenth time.

The written exams are going to be almost upsettingly easy, there's no getting around that. Izuku might as well be custom-built for these tests, going by all the information that Froppy has shared (in return for a promise to meet her in real life if - when - they both pass the exams) over the past 10 months. Given that a perfect score in the written test is just barely enough to pass the exams as a whole... Well, a mere dozen points in the practical would net them a middle-of-the-road pass overall.

Of course, they aren't counting on getting a perfect score. That would be setting themself-ves up for disappointment. But it doesn't change the fact that, point-wise at least, they don't have a single care in the world.

No, that care is reserved for their quirk.

From the moment that Izuku stepped through the gate, they became just that. Izuku.

Not Izumi.

Just Izuku.

Their quirk... It isn't like breathing to them. They don't feel a need to use it, and it doesn't quite happen automatically. It's more like a habit that they've cultivated for the past several years. In the same way that they write right-handed and kick a ball with their left, they use Izuku for raw power and Izumi for speed and agility. Not shifting to Izumi whenever they need to close a distance will be difficult to remember - their brain is almost programmed into automation at this point.

Heck, even just walking down the (unobserved) road usually has them changing forms on a whim. Forget the exams, how are they gonna keep up the charade once school itself rolls over?

(If it rolls over.)

Izuku's legs catch on each other, and with a blink he's a head shorter. She curses inwardly and forces herself back into Izuku, resigning to take the fall like a... man?

Well, resigning to take the fall...?

Apparently not.

Untangling his legs, he kicks off the ground and pitches himself forward, marvelling at the sudden sensation of weightlessness as he spirals into a lazy front-flip. He sweeps his arms in a circular motion to speed up the rotation and frowns - the air isn't heavy enough to push off of, which is weird considering-

His thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of ground under his feet as gravity shackles him to the floor once more, and he turns to face his savior: a petite, rosy-cheeked girl who, slightly shorter than him, would still dwarf Izumi.

"That was so cool," he murmurs, and the girl's natural blush deepens slightly and she presses her fingers together. "You tapped me on the shoulder for that, right? Is it a five-finger quirk?"

"Yep!" she beams with a wave of a pink-padded hand. "I can make things float by touching them. Sorry for using it, but it'd be bad luck if you fell now, right?"

"No, it's fine! You saved me after all," he smiles. "That's a really versatile quirk! Are you here for the Hero course?"

"Of course! Are there any other exams today then?"

Wait, are there? Izuku's not sure. The written exam's the same for everyone apart from the Hero course section at the end, so he thinks they'll see a few candidates for the General Studies. He's not sure if they'd be in the same hall as those candidates though, but he'd wager not considering their exam's shorter so to have everyone together would risk disturbing the Hero course candidates, which would probably go against UA's exacting standards.

"Um... Is that a maybe then?"

"Oh!" He sheepishly rubs the back of his head. "Sorry about that, I get a little... verbose when I'm nervous. Or anytime at all, really."

"That makes two of us then! Being nervous, I mean. I can barely contain myself!" She bounces excitedly on her heels, and he finds himself wondering if she can make herself float too. Maybe she needs to weigh herself down or she'll float off into space. "Let's both work our hardest to pass, okay?"

His face seems to be broken; he can't turn off the smile. "Sounds good to me," he replies with mild difficulty, and it seems to be enough - she gives a quick wave and bounces over to the UA building's entrance.

"Out the way, fuckin' Deku," abruptly comes Kacchan's voice from behind him, sounding oddly strained. Izuku side-steps the blond's general area on reflex, and catches sight of him as he strides past... looking for something?

He's scanning the crowd for someone. Did he somehow manage to make a friend? Or is he just scoping the competition?

It doesn't seem like the latter. Every now and then he makes an obvious step or three in a direction, then stops dead, cursing under his breath.

It's probably not the former either. Anyone who can worm their way into Kacchan's heart must have shrunken themselves to fit with their quirk.

He shakes that image out of his mind with a mild grimace. Humanoid chest-bursters are not chief on the list of things he wants to think about in preparation for a day of exams. Instead, he should be focussing on what's really important: the pit of fear slowly eating his stomach from the inside out.

That's probably worse than the chest-burster, actually.

When he finally pulls himself out of his bottomless pit of nerves, he finds himself being funnelled with all the other hopefuls into a surprisingly small auditorium, having half-expected a fully realised theatre capable of holding thousands of people. Hoping against all hope that he's in the right place, he detaches from the crowd with much more difficulty than usual - Izumi's usually the one to slip through heavy traffic since she's so small - and takes the seat marked out for Examinee No. 2234.

Which just happens to be positioned next to a visibly upset Kacchan.

Moving within six feet of a 'visibly upset' Kacchan is comparable to actively sprinting towards a tornado.

If said tornado is directly on top of an active volcano, spraying the area with lava and shards of obsidian.

And can explode the nearest object with its mind.

The unmistakable presence of Present Mic (it is in the name, after all) snaps him out of his mild spell of horror. "All you listeners with a stake in the next exam better pay attention! Everybody say HEY!"

Izuku barely resists the urge to yell back for fear of attracting Kacchan's ire, and it's extraordinarily lucky that he does, because nobody else utters so much as a peep.

He supposes there's a time and a place for hype-building and audience participation.

"What a refined response," Present Mic rebounds without skipping a beat. Izuku doesn't know much about him beyond his quirk, and he wonders if maybe that kind of unflappability is something that should be followed up on. Present Mic could be extremely interesting to catalogue- "Then I'll give you all the rundown and send you on your ways!"

Aw. He's lost his train of thought.

"Are you ready? YEAH!"

There's silence.

Oh right, unbreakable spirit.

"As it says in the application requirements, you listeners will be participating in ten-minute mock urban battles! You can bring whatever you want with you into the arena. After the presentation, head to your specified battle center, all right?

...OKAY?"

Maybe someday, someone will reply.

He steals a glance at Kacchan's slip of paper and catches him looking at Izuku's own slip. The examiners have apparently separated anyone in the same schools into different fields. So they won't be seeing any teams, unless someone out there is charismatic enough to make friends within ten minutes or has a quirk to do the convincing for them.

Present Mic takes them through the three point-giving villains, and when a boy so angular that he must find it uncomfortable to sit points out the extra villain on the printout in the most long-winded fashion imaginable, he describes a zero-point obstacle, fit only to be avoided.

But then, what's the point of having it there? Is it just to scare everyone when it powers up? Maybe to prevent people just camping in a safe space the whole match?

"Thank you very much!" the boy states, bowing stoically, apparently not having felt the embarrassment that being corrected in front of a crowd should rightfully have caused. He's a little intimidating, to be honest.

Izuku thinks they have a plan.

The robots are actually more of a blessing than they could have hoped. Against human opponents they would've had to hold back to avoid killing anyone, but against robots that restriction is lifted. They probably won't have laser beams or other excessively dangerous tech either, although with the zero-pointer he's not so sure about that... they do have Recovery Girl on-site, so anything could go as long as it's non-lethal.

Now the only question is whether the robots are light enough to use...

Light enough?

He spots the rounded brown hair and splayed fingers of the nice girl from earlier, and makes a beeline for her. She clearly wasn't lying about her nerves, and knowing that just brings Izuku's own worry to the surface-

A hand on his shoulder makes him jump about a foot in the air, and he has to clamp down on his kneejerk reaction to swap forms as he turns to face Angles Boy from earlier, who releases him contritely.

"I apologise for startling you, but that girl appears to be trying to focus," he states, bowing slightly.

Izuku tries to slow his heart in his chest, and only marginally succeeds. "I met her earlier," he explains shortly, more because the exam could begin at any moment than out of any animosity. "I think talking to her could help us both out."

The boy blinks, processing, then nods. "I suppose that is acceptable."

Izuku thanks him, wondering if maybe the boy just seems prickly and severe, and resumes his course towards the nice girl. "Hello," he greets. She looks a little queasy if he pays enough attention, but his mere presence seems to be calming her nerves slightly.

She smiles and gives a wave, and he wonders if those finger-pads are shock-absorbent. Does she have them on her feet too? "Hi again! You look like a panther jumped at you!"

"I'm still recovering from Angles Boy's surprise attack," he jokes, gesturing with his head. The light's glints off said boy's glasses, and Izuku represses a shudder, resolving to change the subject. "I was actually wondering if we should team up."

Nice Girl blinks. "Wait, is that allowed?"

He shrugs. "I haven't found any rules against it, and cooperating with other heroes at a moment's notice is a good skill for heroes to have, don't you think?"

She nods slowly, then quickens as she mulls it over. "As a team, we could save energy by covering each other's weaknesses, and gain points faster than we could alone. What's your quirk?"

"I can store any object that's light enough to carry," Izuku says.

She stares.

Slowly, grins spread on their faces.

"And START!" yells Present Mic, and then there is chaos.

Izuku quickly gets used to floating around, storing air from in front of them and releasing it behind to propel them along - although the sheer amount of air needed for this gives him the impression that Nice Girl's quirk isn't quite what she thinks it is. With Nice Girl holding him around the torso (a little awkward, but the only way they could find to avoid mis-weighting themselves), they almost literally breeze through the false streets of Battle Centre B, straight into the heart of the cityscape.

They land without any issues. Nice Girl explained on the way here that her quirk gives her nausea when overused, so he's concerned for her, but she seems to be holding up just fine.

At his request, Nice Girl floats a street light which is still attached to the ground, and he separates it off. when he un-stores it, he finds that it no longer floats. Interesting.

Also painful.

"A weapon for you," he explains, rubbing his foot where a street light decided to materialise on top of it. Who's Bright idea was that?

"Thanks!" She taps it with five fingers and hauls it over her shoulder. "Is your foot okay?"

He tests it and winces. "I think I broke a toe. Can you float me again, or is that too much on top of the lamppost?" She slaps him lightly on the head in response, and he chuckles as the weightlessness (or whatever it actually is) washes over him.

"Ask a stupid question," Nice Girl giggles. "With this, I don't need to float all the robots to destroy them. Floating you is a piece of cake compared to that! Now let's get fighting!"

He takes off with a crack and a burst of air - revelling in the control he has without someone hanging off him - and picks a spot a while away from Nice Girl to avoid stealing her points. It seems like this part of the city was meant to be reached later on, as there are comparatively few one-pointers scattered around here - gaining points will be a cinch.

The robots are brittle, he finds when he propels himself down to a group of three-pointers, and the one he lands on crumples under his (definitively not zero) mass. With the mobility granted by Nice Girl's quirk, he can access the robots' weak points with his full strength, and he makes short work of the rest of the group, storing some of the more solid plates for his own use.

The next few groups (mostly three-pointers with a few two-pointers sprinkled in) go down even easier as he drops a couple of the heavier plates on top of them, or clotheslines them with stored wires from their brethren.

Two of the plates he turns into shields, poking coin-sized holes in them with his quirk and weaving the cables in to serve as handles. He takes a little time out to frisbee one of them over to Nice Girl, and she beams as it slips comfortably onto her arm.

The street light has seen better days, but it's holding together fine, and there are plenty of them strewn around the place, uprooted by both themselves and the villains. It isn't worth going over there to pull up a new one for her.

"Three minutes left!" comes Present Mic's omnipresent voice, and he gets back to destroying wave after wave of disposable machines. A few other hopefuls begin to appear, but they back off from Izuku's territory once they start to realise that he isn't leaving any villains for them to fight.

Now he feels comfortable with the pile of mechanical parts that he's stored. He doesn't need any more, so he doesn't need to worry about damaging them.

The next three-pointer's left half is removed from existence with a touch, and reappears to crush a small group of them. Twelve one-pointers are blasted away by a cable tied to a two-pointer's heavy carapace. Incoming attacks are deflected into the mixed assortment of nearby villains with his makeshift shield. Everything's going perfectly.

Until it isn't.

The ground rumbles and dust clouds the sky, and Izuku finds himself staring into the eight pinpricks of light that make up the face of the Zero Pointer.

The hoards of enemies here were a lure for the powerful, he realises suddenly. They were a trap that he's fallen into.

Not just him. He glances towards where Nice Girl is, barely able to make out her silhouette through the grit in the air. The zero-pointer faces in the same direction.

It's a race.

Wincing as he puts pressure on his possibly-broken toe, Izuku kicks off a nearby rock with both feet. Alone, he and Nice Girl can't hope to outpace the thing. But together, maybe they stand a chance.

He's starting to feel the mental tax of storing and releasing so many things today. He's been overusing his abilities. Nice Girl too, from the hand over her mouth. Her legs are covered in cuts and bruises too, and she's shaking from the effort of standing. He doesn't think she could walk.

He has a plan.

"Nice Girl!" he calls out, and she chokes on her spit in a bout of near-hysterical laughter. He's not sure what's so funny.

The zero-pointer is almost on her as he lands alongside. It's faster than his exhausted self, but he started out closer. It raises a gigantic right fist, and Izuku has a moment to spare as its treads whir ever-closer.

"How much of its arm could you float?" he asks her.

She frowns in consideration. "Up to the shoulder, I think."

That's good. "Okay, we're going to do something stupid." When she makes no attempt to argue, he sighs at the sheer idiocy that he's going along with. "I want you to wave your arm through the air." She does. "What do you feel?"

"Air resistance. And silly."

"The first one is the one we want," he smiles. "That air is connected to everything. And if something moves fast enough, it creates a cushion of air. So, imagine that cushion as a sort of armor on the front of tha-"

It's here. He's out of time.

The arm comes faster than Izuku can think. It's up and then it's there

stop

it stops.

his hand is out.

nice girl's hand is out.

the cushion of air washes over them both.

nice girl reacts.

izuku reacts.

the arm is gone.

Unbalanced, the zero-pointer topples to the ground with no fanfare.

Izuku and Nice Girl follow close behind.

They don't speak for a while.

"Happy with your points total?" Izuku finally asks.

"I'm not about to complain, I almost died today," she laughs hoarsely. "What even happened? I don't remember much."

He shrugs. How's he supposed to verbalise the event that's been burned into his mind? "You made the arm float without touching it - you learned that really fast actually, I thought I'd have more time to teach you - and then I stored the arm and the robot kind of just... fell over."

Well. That's one way of putting it. Doesn't quite get the overwhelming terror or the sudden clarity across though.

"I remember that part, I think. I feel a bit bad for it now."

"It tried to squish us!" he whines, injecting as much comical hurt as possible into the words, and they both break into peals of laughter.

They lie in a comfortable silence for another moment.

"Woo, we did it," Nice Girl quietly cheers.

"Ya—ay, go us..."

The next silence lasts much longer as they both bask in the sunlight and the light of the victories they shared.

Nice Girl's the one to break it.

"So... 'Nice Girl'?"

"TIME'S UP!"

Chapter Text

Toshinori can't decide where to look as the race for points begins in earnest. So many diverse and unique heroes-to-be are suddenly on display! He isn't actually doing any of the grading - he's just here to see the children he'll be teaching in action, and for scouting out a potential candidate for One for All.

"There's no rush to find a new holder, but don't be so quick to assume UA has nothing of value to you," Nedzu sharply stated when he tried to cancel his teaching position - almost six months ago now. "You have no idea if whatever miracle treatment you're cooking up is going to work out in the long term. Best be on the safe side just in case something goes awry, no?"

He sighed and nodded. There wasn't a good enough argument to give, and they both knew it.

"If nothing else, consider your job at UA as practice. You will need to actually teach your successor after all," the principal finished with a winning smile.

That Nedzu had already figured out that he had a 'miracle treatment' went undiscussed.

So that's why he's here. Honestly, the sight of so many future heroes proving their mettle is almost worth the idea of wasting- not wasting, spending his time as All Might on teaching.

He spots a young man with untamed black hair punch through a few villains like a jet hose through tissues, twisting to bodily block the small, bobble-haired boy behind him from the shower of debris.

A frog-like young lady (he thinks he remembers meeting a family of frogs; could she be related?) has trouble gaining leverage with her tongue on the smooth metal of a two-pointer. He catches her wince as the metal slices into it, but she figuratively digs in her heels and launches it into a cluster of one-pointers, destroying them all and netting herself seven points.

A bulky boy with a working drill on top of his head slams into a line of one-pointers, tearing them asunder but crying out as shards of robot scrape across his face. He winces at the boy's panicked attempts to remove the plate punctured on his drill, almost losing his fingers to the death trap he's inadvertently created.

Most of them will be headed elsewhere, he thinks a little sadly. But the failures are as much a part of hero work as the successes, and the smart ones will recognise that and move on.

Two of the students in particular catch his eye though.

"Those two are working together," he mentions to nobody in particular as the two hopefuls fly together. Every head swivels in the direction he's pointing, and he's left feeling a little off-balance. "Is that not normal?"

Aizawa hums noncommittally from Toshinori's left, seeming a little more alert than before as he peers into. "Nedzu, their quirks?"

Nedzu shuffles some papers that he probably had prepared already, as the onscreen camera moves and rotates to show a side-profile of their faces. "Ah, I've marked these two as 'particularly interesting'," he remarks happily. "We have an unusual number of those this year, how exciting!"

The 18-rated hero Midnight - Kayama, was that her surname? - sighs. "And their quirks are...?"

"Right, right, of course. Uraraka Ochako, the girl, is registered as 'Zero Gravity', a five-finger quirk! When she touches an object, she makes it float! Pressing her fingers together cancels the effect! As for the boy, Midoriya Izuku-"

"Midoriya?!"

"-is listed with an invisible quirk named Deja Vu - I believe we've seen one of those before," he jokes with a chuckle. Thankfully Toshinori's outburst was much quieter than it seemed, so it goes unnoticed by the other teachers. "Known effects include a doubled nutrient intake and the ability to replenish hair while taking a haircut, although Midoriya seems to have taken it a little further than that in his own time."

Onscreen, young Uraraka slaps a lamppost, and then when young Midoriya - the male one - taps it, it vanishes for a second, reappearing on the boy's foot.

Ouch.

"Some kind of transformation quirk then," Aizawa decides, rubbing his eyes like he'd much rather be asleep than pay witness to such an interesting and future-driving event as the UA entrance exam. "He burns nutrients to convert objects to a more portable form of some kind. In that case, the team-up's unusual - his quirk probably has some dependance on the object's weight. This kid's resourceful, I'll give him that."

Toshinori agrees whoeheartedly, but that's not the point anymore.

The point is, he's found a lead.

"TIME'S UP!"

They both sink further into their respective patches of concrete at Present Mic's announcement, tension ebbing from their shoulders and draining away into the floor.

Yet another silence falls between them.

If Izuku were rating silences, he'd give this one the star prize. It's perfect. No need to get back up and carry on fighting. No expectations. No need to prove themselves.

Their head feels hazy, their guts a little twisted and their left pinkie toe more than a little broken, but those are just the proof of a job well done. Like a dirty brush and an empty paint can.

"Nice Girl?" Nice Girl repeats with a sly grin, and suddenly the world is slightly less beautiful.

"We never gave each other our names, and you saved me from a broken nose," he defends half-heartedly. "What was your nickname for me, anyway?"

She shrugs. "It started out as Plain Boy, but now you're Dekiru."

Dekiru. Capable?

That's... oddly heartwarming. And.

"I'll ignore the first one," he says. Being plain has always been a blessing whenever Izuku wants to escape Kacchan or just blend in, but plain is also the worst possible way a hero could. They'll to work on that. "I'm Midoriya Izuku."

"," Nice Girl responds. "Nice to meet you, Dekiru-kun!"

"Nice to meet you too,."

She can't concentrate.

It's been a few hours since the practical exam, and now it's time for the. She's right at the back of the exam hall and there aren't any cameras, so nobody will notice that Izuku... isn't.

This should be easy.

But she just.

Can't.

Focus!

The text blends together, and she blinks rapidly, huffing in frustration when it resolves into legible words for just a moment before eluding her mind yet. She's already skipped half a dozen questions that she'll have to go. It's not looking for her chances.

They should have seen this coming. They should have tested their. It's a purely mentally-controlled quirk, for sake - of course overusing it would! Gaining this kind of impairment in the middle of a battle would be-

FOCUS!

"Examinee 2234, that's your only warning for disruption!" calls Present Mic from the front, faint without his speakers plugged in. She pales. Did she yell that out loud?

Skipping yet another question about vigilante laws or, she flips to the next page, dreading what accursed-scroll-worthy text she might find there.

Mercy of mercies, here are the questions she could answer while comatose.

'Explain, in as much detail as you can, how your quirk.'

'Explain, as much detail you can, what advantages you have.'

'what disadvantages.'

That can'tShe carries on writing.

Whatever it is that's affecting her brain is just starting to fade away as Izumi walks home. She can finally think again. Not super well, but enough to start piecing together the events of the day.

That went... she doesn't really remember. She's pretty sure it went badly though.

Take it from the top, she decides.

First, the practical. They flew to the centre of the arena with Nice Girl - what was her name? - and after that, it's all a bit hazy.

At least three groups of three-pointers went down in the first few minutes of fighting. With an average of 3-5 robots per group, that's anywhere from 27 to 45 points already.

Then there must have been more groups that they don't remember. At the rate they were going... factoring in the break where they made those shields, the time it took to fly over there and the time to disarm the zero-pointer...

Balling low for fatigue and the need to go further out of their way to find villains later on in the exam, they can confidently put their score at 50-plus points.

That should be a solid pass.

But. The written exam.

No.

They failed it, plain and simple. They don't need to remember every question to know that they didn't write enough. Half the paper was left blank!

Her stomach jumps off a cliff as she realises what this means.

They failed.

They failed.

Izuku has never failed before. They've had setbacks and been wrong and made mistakes. But not failure.

Never failure.

They've just been locked out of UA. For good. There's no way in. However well they did on the practical exam, passing the written one is a necessity no matter the course.

And they failed.

They failed because they weren't careful. They weren't thorough enough to check that their mind quirk didn't affect their mind. Of course it would! Why hadn't they thought of that?

Because they'd overestimated themselves. They'd been so convinced that they'd always have another self to fall back on, that they hadn't considered that quirk exhaustion might bridge the gap between forms.

Know your quirk, inside and out.

They hadn't.

When he gets home, Izuku's mom is busy cooking, and can't give him more than a greeting. He knows he can't answer without his voice cracking, so he just bolts to his room the moment his feet hit the floorboards. He'll talk to her later. She'll understand.

They've been laying down a lot today. But that won't stop him from keeping up the trend. He fishes his phone out from under his pillow.

Nice Girl gave them a phone number.

Froppy messaged them.

And now the tears fall. He doesn't bother wiping them away. Doesn't bother moving. He just lies face-up on his bed, allowing them to drip off his face and past his ears, pool underneath his head like blood, cool him from the heat of... whatever emotion it is that he's feeling. He's not sure. Maybe it's all of them.

Regret, he supposes, that they'll never see Froppy. Never have a class with Nice Girl. Shame, disbelief that this is the hurdle they tripped over. Anger at themselves, and at the exams. Why is the practical first? How is that a logical idea?

Traitorous hope. They don't have a chance, they should just give up. Pick another school before it's too late to apply. Maybe their practical results could land them in a different hero course.

They can't, obviously. But they should.

Maybe they could be a vigilante. It'd make hiding their quirk easier, at least.

Embarrassment that they let such an utterly predictable weakness go unseen for so many years. Upset that they've never pushed themselves that far before. Dread.

Dread.

If there's still even the tiniest chance of being accepted, a single thread of hope, then that is what Izuku is hanging from in this moment. Has been for the past week.

Their mom's been worried sick for them. They don't blame her. They've been worried too.

If they don't get in, what will they do?

The letter's arrived. Izumi's holding it. Now she just has to open it, accept the reality.

She doesn't want to.

She opens it anyway, pulling out a fairly heavy palm-sized disc. A projector?

"I am here, as a-"

"-ah, All Might! I believe I'll take this one," pipes up a highly composed voice from stage left, and Izumi's treated to the strange sight of the Number 1 Hero choking on air as a furry head pops into view.

After a brief coughing fit (part of her's pleased that his hand doesn't leave his mouth bloody), All Might leaves the set and nudges a small armchair into the centre of the room. The odd creature - a mouse with a quirk? - hops onto it with a small "hup!" without spilling a drop of his tea, turning to face the camera with a pleasant smile. "Greetings! Am I a mouse? A dog? A bear? It matters not - I am simply your principal!

Now, Midoriya Izuku! You have proven yourself an incredibly talented and resourceful individual. Working with another examinee was a rare sight to behold, and the young lady you chose to team up with had a quirk perfectly complimenting your own. You took down a grand total of fifteen one-pointers, ten two-pointers, and fourteen three-pointers. That is seventy-seven points in total, one of the highest villain scores witnessed to date!"

Izumi's mouth is dry. It's far higher than they were expecting from their earlier calculations, but that score is near-worthless unless they passed the written. No point patting themselves on the back just yet.

"This exam was also graded in another way, however. We are, first and foremost, a school for aspiring heroes! And that is why we hand out bonus points for those who put their all into heroic acts! For each of you, both yourself and your impromptu partner, sixty-two points!"

What.

That's... that's enough to pass even without villain points.

"Congratulations, Midoriya Izuku. With one-hundred and thirty-nine points to your name, you now boast the highest score ever achieved in UA's practical exam."

They...

Kacchan took that exam.

They beat him?

The camera is pulled closer to the Principal until just his head is projected, and Izumi's sweat glands freeze over.

"And thus ends our wave of good news," he sighs, something odd swirling in his button eyes. "Izuku, you did not pass the written exam. You were only a couple of marks off - an amazing feat given how few questions you answered - but the fact remains that you failed the exam. As a result, you have not been accepted into UA."

...

It hurts.

It hurts more than they could have thought possible.

They knew this was coming. They didn't even answer enough questions to pass if they'd written each one perfectly. They'd just been denying their inevitable failure for the past week.

The tears don't come. She wishes they would.

And then they do.

"That said." The Principal's voice cuts through her heart-wrenched sobs, and she tries to blink through the streams to see his face, tries to cut back on the strangled whimpers.

She can't.

"Midoriya Izuku, I would be truly honored to meet you in person, at your earliest possible convenience. I believe that at this moment, a discussion regarding your future would be very beneficial to you, and I am more than willing to oblige. Should you wish to accept, this projector doubles as a temporary student identity to allow you onto the school premises. Just tell the hero at the front gates the code 'One-Two-Two-Fifty', and they will escort you to my office."

Izumi hiccups, scrambling for a tissue. They haven't applied for any other schools, and there aren't any nearby with a hero course that accepts applications this late.

"I hope to see you in person soon, future hero."

It's either talk to the Principal and hope beyond all hope that he's able to grant some opportunity to salvage their hero career, or become a vigilante.

Well, with options like those, what do they have to lose?

Chapter Text

The next day, on a bright and cheerful Friday morning, Izuku thoroughly thinks things through.

They failed.

Well, that's alright. The world's still spinning, isn't it? Sun shining, grass growing, people living their lives as usual. Nothing's really changed.

It's not like they've stepped backwards. They just haven't gone anywhere, and the door to UA's entirety - and any other hero course - has closed ahead of them.

So they need to take a step in a different direction. Surely there has to be some other way to be a hero than high school.

The Principal's message isn't straightforward in the slightest. They've re-watched it twice to make certain that their emotions hadn't clouded their rationality at the time - they had been, but Izuku came out of it with the same utter confusion regardless. Whatever he's calling them in for, only two things are clear:

First, he isn't offering a place at UA. He was clear enough that they hadn't been accepted, at least.

Second, he called Izuku a 'future hero'.

He might be wrong. Izuku knows nothing about him beyond his appearance and that he's Principal of UA - big (and very stylish) shoes - but that doesn't say much about his actual personality, and the message certainly doesn't help in that regard. So they can't know if he thinks they have another school listed, is taking a shot in the dark, or if he actually has something planned and ready to go.

They have to assume the former. They've already tried optimism, and look where it got them.

So, there's no chance that they can become a hero through school. No chance whatsoever. They have to keep telling themselves that or they'll end up neglecting their future again.

Right now, they need to research which step to take.

There are heroes who started out as vigilantes, or even villains.

Sure, most of them - all the villains - are from early on in the history of quirks. They started out back before hero training was a legal requirement, back when quirk laws hadn't been fully established and the vigilantes were the ones known as heroes, and as a result they were given an opportunity to become official heroes when those laws rolled over.

Some declined or were declined for various reasons, and were hunted by those they'd once walked alongside. Some formed alliances with official heroes, each helping the other cover their legality-induced blind-spots; cooperating like that was never actually outlawed, but the practice slowly faded to obscurity as heroes gained more legal power, and vigilantes became viewed more as criminals and less as unlicensed heroes by the public.

But what interests Izuku is that the law was never removed. In the right circumstances, vigilantes can still apply for hero licenses.

And it looks like some have.

It's never outright stated in news articles, but occasionally a vigilante will just vanish from the media without a trace and a new hero will pop up in their stead, with a very similar quirk and combat style, and no records of a hero education. They usually take the thirties and lower in ranking due to their lack of formal training and difficulty getting sponsors, but Argantuan - formerly Silver Spire - is currently ranked 17th, so it's certainly feasible to climb the ranks as a former vigilante.

It's calming, realising that there's still a way forward. Even if what the Principal has in store for Izuku is just platitudes and apologies, they can still become a hero.

Eventually. It'd take a lot more doing than the direct path, but what's important is that it can be done.

Izuku goes through specific case studies after that revelation, both former vigilantes and ones who applied for a license and were rejected - the latter of which are publicised much more openly, probably due to a loophole in some privacy law. The laws themselves don't specify any vigilante behaviour that prevents them from receiving a license, but there are certain correlations to be made here:

Vigilantes that kill or commit other serious crimes against civilians are rejected.

Vigilantes that leave their victims relatively unharmed for the police, especially with evidence of the victim's crimes, have a much higher acceptance rate than those who maim or murder.

Vigilantes must pass some manner of mental wellness test. Regardless of their previous actions, those who fail the test are rejected for safety reasons.

Finally, former vigilantes with high rankings were usually relatively well-known before they became heroes. Silver Spire had exceptionally good publicity - his day-job at the time was a hero marketer, so he had the experience to make himself stand out in the best way possible.

That's all good. Izuku wasn't planning on leaving anyone broken and bleeding in the first place, and they certainly hope they can pass an are-you-crazy test. That just leaves the rankings, but...

Honestly? They don't really care. Hero work - doing good for the world and the people in it - is all that they've ever aspired for. They don't need rankings to do that much.

Besides, what society doesn't love someone so dedicated to good? Former vigilante or not, Izuku has no doubt that they'll scale the rankings like they were born for it.

After a long day of research, Izuku finally finds it in themselves to allow for some optimism.

It's Monday.

Izuku took the weekend as a break, surfing the web, watching old hero movies while snuggled up on the couch with their mother, chatting away about everything from the changes to hero costumes over the years (spandex is totally practical! It's easy to move in, iconic, and it's an expression of confidence!), to their newest hobbies (Izuku really should help their mom get a proper gaming PC someday).

The exam results don't come up at all, and Izuku realises that they'll have to tell her at some point. She's been just as worried as Izuku since the exam, and their silence after the letter arrived brought her nearly to tears. She deserves much more than this.

They've decided to wait until a weekday to speak with the Principal. Regardless of their new vigilante-related discovery, an outright rejection from their dream school isn't something they can just shake off without a serious blow to their motivation. Besides, what Principal would want to waste his Sunday talking with a teenager about their rapidly disintegrating future plans and distinct lack of a backup? Better to wait until the weekend is over.

But now it's Monday, and they think they're just about ready to leave bed at a decent time and take on the day.

Then the alarm clock goes off.

Just one more hour. The Principal can wait, right? He did say convenience.

Groaning, Izuku mashes the snooze button six more times, ten minutes for each press.

In the end, the extra hour doesn't really help. Now they're just sleepy and late, and that's a combination that nobody wants.

Thankfully, their quirk gives them a few advantages. Two spare sets of clean clothes are summoned from storage (both shirts are feminine fit but they'll have to do - at least neither of them are t-shirts that say 't-shirt'). Both faces are slapped with water, both sets of near-identical boots pulled on and laced up, Izumi's hair is brushed through within a minute and Izuku's fluff vanishes and then re-appears detached from his face.

It's just lucky they showered last night.

"I'm heading out!" he calls out when he's just about ready. "Be back in a few hours!"

"I'll have dinner ready for you when you get back," she yells back, and he smiles to himself, already hearing the chopping of vegetables. It's been a while since they had katsudon. "No getting caught up in villain attacks, alright? Stay out of the alleyways!"

She really deserves more. Maybe they could make Saturday a family bonding day from now on.

That's a good idea.

"I'll try!"

He shifts to Izumi the moment the door is closed.

Then the next door over slams open with the fury of a thousand suns and out stomps Kacchan, his face a contorted mask of something so far beyond rage that Izumi is gripped by fear just looking in his general direction.

"That BASTARD!" he screams to the heavens. Izumi winces. He's read the rankings, then. "I'LL FUCKING-"

Then he sees her standing on Izuku's doorstep, and for just a moment his eyes bug out and his mouth works without the cooperation of his vocal chords.

Finally, his expression dies down to something which most would call 'incensed', but for Kacchan is closer to 'upset and disbelieving'. He at least doesn't look like he'll want to turn her skin to charcoal, which is... good?

"Bag-girl?" he asks like he can't trust his eyes, and she cringes a little. So much for letting him forget.

"Um, hi! Aren't you-"

"Where the fuck have you been?" She blinks at his hushed demand, and he takes the opportunity to step into her personal bubble and grab her wrist just hard enough to be uncomfortable. "You weren't in the exam! I wasted three damn hours searching the rankings for your name! And then you show up out of nowhere the next fucking day?"

"...Wait, you never even asked my name," Izumi points out in a fit of logic.

He growls, but more in distracted annoyance now that his anger has petered out. "I know your face, genius. They show school photos with the rankings, I was looking at those."

The alarm bells in her head slow to a dull thumping, and she sighs. Kacchan might not deserve a full conversation, per se, but she'd feel bad if she just up and left right now, after he's searched-

Hang on, was he looking for her before the exam started? Did she really leave that much of an impression?

"Alright, I've got somewhere to go right now, but let's sit down and talk for a bit later," she says on a split-second decision. "It's a long story."

There's a short pause, and he reluctantly nods, face set in a scowl. "Vanish again and I'll wreck your shit," he assures.

She doesn't doubt it.

She's walking to their doom. Each step puts her closer to the reality of failure.

She can turn back now. Leave it for another day. Maybe if they're patient enough, it'll sort itself out.

She can turn back now.

And deal with Kacchan.

...

Why is she scared about a meeting, again? With a wry chuckle, Izumi shifts to her male form and carries on walking towards the UA gates.

The Hero on guard duty (cowboy theme, revolver, a letter S engraved on the hat - Sniper? Sharpshoot? He's only vaguely familiar) steps forward. Izuku's a little unnerved.

"Midoriya Izuku," he says. "My name is Snipe. You... have the password?"

"Loss."

They both heave in a breath and sigh it out in unison, Snipe putting a gloved hand to his mask. "Swear to whatever God there is..." he mutters, shaking his head to rid it of that memory. "The Principal's been waitin' for ya all weekend. Go crash his party for me, would'ya?"

Izuku nods, some of his nerves dissipating.

Maybe that's the idea behind such a dumb passcode.

"Ah, greetings, Midoriya-kun!" is Izuku's first impression when he steps into the office. "Is it a bear? A cat? A dog? It's just me, your Principal!"

Oh, so he does that every time. Is he everyone's Principal?

"Not everyone's, just those who are willing to learn," the Principal replies, and Izuku realises with a blush and an apology that he was muttering again. "Oh, it's no trouble at all. Everyone has their own eccentricities! Tea?"

Izuku nods wordlessly, and is poured a cup with a few sugars and milk.

He is thoroughly off-balance.

The Principal's beady eyes (was that scar always there?) are pulled into a neutral expression, but there's something behind them that turns it... not intimidating, exactly, but steely. Un-ignorable. "Midoriya-kun, I hope you realise just how special you are," he says. "Your practical exam results are beyond what could possibly be expected of almost anyone in our school - let alone someone applying for a first-year position - and something tells me your written results would have been similar if not for your quirk's backlash. And your quirk is something that nobody can put an explanation to, as far as I am aware."

Izuku nods in agreement, not sure if he's supposed to, and is rewarded with an assessing stare.

"Quite simply, you have become a legend. People have seen your achievements, and people want you to join UA. I want you to join UA. But just accepting you outright would draw shade to the integrity of our system. There would be those who doubt our students, those who doubt you in particular, Midoriya-kun, if we just let you join the hero course.

We have unfortunately strict guidelines for when retakes can be granted. If your quirk's mental drawbacks had been legally recognised before the exam, you would have been perfectly eligible. If you had requested a hospital visit after the practical, same story. But it is my understanding that you yourself weren't fully aware of the backlash until it came time to take the written test?"

Izuku nods, inwardly cursing at the two escape clauses they completely missed. "I've never had a reason to go all-out before then, I guess," he mumbles, and the Principal nods.

"Perfectly reasonable, heroes discover new limitations and abilities every day. It doesn't help our situation, but I don't blame you an iota."

He takes a long sip of his tea, and Izuku follows suit, mostly to avoid just sitting there in silence.

It's... pretty bad actually. Weird, Izuku could've sworn they tried tea at one point and found it nice. Was that Izumi, then? They do have different tastebuds, so it'd make sense for them to have different tastes. Or has this tea just been brewed differently?

With a frown, he adds another sugar and stirs. The next sip is better.

Not great, but still better.

The Principal looks on with quiet amusement.

"There is one option that hasn't been closed to us," he says. Izuku almost chokes on his drink, and he decides it'd be better to just place it down for now. Could this be- "I didn't want to say it in the projection since it took quite some doing, but my standing in the school is unparalleled. I made it work!"

He slides over some papers, and Izuku reads the title: 'Recommendations student application: Midoriya Izuku'.

"The rec-" his voice breaks and his eyes water, and he hastily dries them on his sleeve so he can see. "The recommendations exams are over," he points out needlessly.

"And that's why those involved have agreed to allow you to be given other tests instead," the Principal agrees mildly. "Should you accept, you will be granted a temporary spot on the hero course until the Sports Festival. There, you will be treated as any other student attempting to join the course, and your permanent place will be decided accordingly. You will also be given a written test, which you will also need to pass - if you place too low in the Sports Festival but pass the written test, you will still have a place waiting for you in the general course. And finally, you will be required to take an interview."

He stirs his tea, then taps off the droplets with three small tinks. "No time like the present for that, wouldn't you say?"

Between Kacchan and this meeting, Izuku starts thinking that maybe they should have hit snooze a few dozen more times.

He signs the paper, of course.

The Principal pulls a recorder from nowhere and hits play, beginning the exam. "This is an audio recording of the interview portion of the Recommendations Students Application Assessment. Student name: Midoriya Izuku. Overseen by: Nedzu. This recording is to be reviewed only with the explicit permission of the current or acting Principal of UA. Midoriya-kun, should you wish to pause the recording at any time, please raise your hand and I shall oblige."

Izuku tries it, and the Principal - Nedzu, apparently - pauses immediately, making a note in a small book that Izuku swears wasn't there a second ago. "Testing your tools before using them, very smart," he compliments.

"Um- Is everything I do graded?"

Nedzu lets out a tinkling laugh. "Only the important things!" he chirps, writing another note. "A person's impulses can say a great deal more about them than they think.

Recommendations students are under far more scrutiny than others; because they are brought in by an outside source, it is important to know that they will not pose a risk to security. That is, in part, what the interview is all about: ensuring that the student is not hiding things that would be better disclosed, both for our benefit and theirs."

He takes another sip from the mostly drained cup. "Are you ready to continue the exam, Midoriya-kun?"

Izuku half-heartedly weighs his chances. "Will my teachers be able to hear this?"

"Not if you are uncomfortable with it."

"Okay, let's carry on."

There's the small click of the play button. "Recording paused for one-minute-forty-three-seconds. Now Midoriya-kun, please explain to me what you believe your quirk to be."

Well, here goes nothing.

"My quirk's name is Deja Vu, but a more accurate name would be Body-Swap."

He takes a deep breath.

She releases it shakily. This is their first time ever changing forms with someone's knowledge, let alone with someone watching. It almost feels like undressing in public...

"It allows me to change between a maleandfemale format will," she finishes in a rush, tripping over her words slightly.

It takes her a moment to notice that she doesn't receive an answer. What's that squeaking-

The Principal drums himself on the chest with a paw, nose and chin dripping wet and coughing as violently as a... creature of indeterminate species can. "Am I a dog or a mo-use?" he croaks weakly, wiping his face on a miniature towel. "Doesn't matter, I'm okay!"

"You don't look it."

"I don't feel it either, but rest assured that I am." He flings the cloth behind him and turns back to Izumi, occasionally shuddering with another repressed cough. "So, the practical? That lamp-post you made vanish?"

Izumi shifts to Izuku, taking their backpack from storage. "I can store items when I change, as long as they're light enough to carry." He shifts back, storing it again, then she unstores notebook No. 5 without shifting.

"And that's why you teamed with- of course. I suppose you were using bursts of air to control your flight?" She points a finger, releasing enough air to make a small pop at the end, and he suddenly positively radiates glee. "You learned all this yourself?! The kind of mindset that would require... What else can you demonstrate to me?"

She stills, thoughtful, at the idea that pops into her head. Yeah, that would be pretty great, she thinks, drinking the rest of her tea.

It's nicer now that she's Izumi. It's just too bad it's already gone cold.

He pushes himself up from his sitting position-

The feeling dissipates and she sways in her seat. They can do this!

He pushes himself up from his sitting position and sidles around the desk, taking care not to bump anything and ruin the illusion. The back of Nedzu's head comes into view, and he abruptly wonders if this could be used for reconnaissance, or if it's just a mental reconstruction-

They shift.

"How'd it go?" Snipe asks as Izuku returns, a little light-headed.

He grins, un-storing an orange and splitting it into eight. "I made him choke on his drink."

"You-"

"Twice." He holds out an orange-filled hand. "Want a slice?"

"Holy shit, kid."

Chapter Text

Izumi holds the last orange slice between her teeth, pulling off the rind in a clean piece and tossing it (along with a few other bits of garbage they've stockpiled over the past few days) into the nearby trashcan, making sure the recyclable waste goes in the corresponding section. With a flick of the head, the slice falls perfectly into place.

Namely, into her mouth.

She brushes the water from her hair, grinning through a mouthful of pulp. Ironic how it's been sunny for the past week, yet just when they finally have a genuine reason to be happy is when the storms finally set in. They didn't realise until now just how uncomfortably warm it's been!

They could probably stay under this bus shelter until the weather dies down. They probably should. They don't have the best quirk in the world just so they can not use it, though! With little more than a thought, she's changed into the perfect wet-weather outfit: pink, green and black windbreaker, black shorts, and some matching green rain boots.

Okay, maybe the shorts are a bad idea. It's the middle of summer though, and it's not like she can't just change into pants if she starts to feel the cold.

She wonders again how people can possibly manage their lives without this kind of convenience. What Izuku carries around every day would barely fit into a suitcase, let alone a rucksack. And that's not even mentioning all the things they've been carrying around since the exams...

They'll have to test if storing too much at once causes their brain to short-circuit more easily - after the headache they got in Nedzu's office with just a few shifts (albeit including their unpracticed teleportation-shift), that seems pretty likely. She pulls out Notebook No. 0 and jots that down for later, humming as she spots a spelling error and corrects that too.

She puts the book and pen away with a flourish. She thinks they've earned a day off training; now's the time to have fun!

Yes, she's putting off the meeting with Kacchan. He can wait a few hours.

Jerk.

Okay, so she ended up training anyway. Force of habit. At this point it'd be more effort not to train.

That's fine, as long as she's having fun. Which she is.

Besides, usually training has a distinct goal in mind. This is more of a nebulous, whimsical approach, which is usually less lucrative unless they're in a very particular mood, but at the same time is infinitely more fun.

So far she's split sticks in half lengthways and width-ways; separated the bark of a twig from the rest of it; stored a branch from two centimeters away (not exactly useful in a fight, but someday they could probably steal weapons straight out of enemies' hands); fashioned a big branch into a cane (the grain of the wood makes it difficult to visualise splitting it, so the detail is less fine and more chisel-tipped than she'd hoped). She even does a few things that don't relate to sticks, like tree-climbing!

Oh, wait.

Tree-climbing's fun. Better yet, it's good for finding a dry place to sit. Where benches fail, nature prevails.

...Why are benches never made under shelter, anyway?

She pulls out their phone from storage, and immediately it pings; apparently it doesn't have internet service while it's in there, which makes sense and is something they really should've thought about earlier. Maybe they should carry it on their person(s), but that would mean fiddling around with it whenever they change forms...

They'll think on it.

10 days ago

Froppy: How do you think you did?

Froppy (edited): I'm pretty sure I passed

Froppy: The robots weren't very strong, they broke when I threw them at each other

Froppy tried to poke you, but you were offline.

8 days ago

Froppy: I'm getting worried. Message me when you see this, alright?

3 days ago

Froppy tried to poke you, but you were offline.

Aw, crud. Now that she thinks about it, she vaguely remembers getting a message right as they got home on the day of the exam. They must have stored the phone out of habit and forgotten about it.

Froppy must be worried sick!

She rubs the rain droplets from the screen and hastily types out a message.

Tsu has been waiting for this moment her whole life.

Sure, she can function just fine under the hot, dry summer sun. For the most part at least. It's a similar level of discomfort to the average person walking around in heavy rain, she thinks. Inconvenient, grating, but not exactly deadly as long as she's careful.

The exams did not help.

But now... rain! Lifeblood of frogs everywhere! A glorious day of greys and greens and climbing trees awaits! She can't help but ribbit in anticipation.

Her parents have even taken today off work - one of mom's friends has a forecast quirk, so they've set up plans to spend this lovely day with Sami and Satsu. She loves them all, she really does, but it'll be nice to finally have some time to herself, without having to worry about some responsibility or other.

She starts out simple: jump onto tree, jump off tree. No point getting hurt and wasting the rest of day in a heap on the floor.

On tree, off tree.

On tree, next tree, off tree.

Soon enough she forgoes the ground entirely. Tree to tree to tree. Occasionally the forest wears thin and she vaults over a bush or kicks off a nearby fence or building.

...Whoops! She didn't put enough force into that one. She's not too stubborn to take a loss when she's going to land badly, so she carefully lets herself lose balance and fall, rolling to a stop with just a slight strain in the shoulder to show for it.

Instead of dwelling on the misstep, she plans her next attempt. The tree closest would absorb all the force in her jump - she's learned the hard way the importance of a sturdy platform - so should she use that one over to the left?

Half of the trunk has been reduced to ash somehow - a quirk, maybe. Looks like one good kick would do it in.

The one on the right then. She crouches and leaps, (literally) shrugging off her shoulder's complaints but logging them in the back of her mind for later.

A ping rings out before she lands, and she fumbles a little. What's that?

...No, seriously, what-

Ah. Half-Might must have finally replied!

She sticks to the trunk and crawls hurriedly upward to nestle into the crook. What could have kept them from replying so long? They usually reply within a day, but it's been over a week and she's just now hearing (well, seeing, but same difference) from them. Something must be up, right?

A moment ago

Half-Might: I'm so sorry! I thought I failed when I got the first message so I wasn't really ready to discuss it, and I guess my phone died after that and I forgot about it ('°A°)

She ribbits in amusement. Even through messages they get their nervous personality across, to the point where it's endearing.

Froppy: You passed, then?

Half-Might: Sort of...?

Sort of? What's that supposed to mean? You know if I don't see you at UA I'll have to- she deletes the half-written sentence when he clarifies.

Half-Might: I passed the practical, but I overused my quirk which affected my brain, so I failed the written

Half-Might: Principal called me in to offer me a recommendation, but the exams for that passed so I'm getting assessed on the Sports Festival instead, with a temp spot until then

Half-Might: Plus I have to do another written test, ugh

Half-Might: Even brain-dead I still almost passed, being fully conscious feels almost like cheating Orz

They don't seem too worried about it at least.

Froppy: It's a bit funny how you were so worried about the practical, but it was the written exam that you failed

Froppy: How many points did you get? I got 25 villain points and 30 rescue, 55 total

She's quite proud of that. She has always wanted to be a rescue hero, and her hero points were solidly above average, even when she was focussed on earning villain points. Yes, her villain score was lacklustre, but that's something she can improve on in the future, now that she's made it to UA.

Half-Might: Yeah it was aI got 139 in total, 62 rescue

She blinks, then rolls her eyes fondly as Half-Might hastily edits out the first part. Of course they'd be worried and then wind up as Midoriya Izuku, highest practical score in the history of UA. And of course they wouldn't even think to mention it.

She works out their villain score in her head.

Froppy: 77 villain points?

Half-Might: I guess that means I got 77 villain points

Half-Might: Yeah

Half-Might: I forgot so I had to work it out

Froppy: :)~

Half-Might: (\_/)

Half-Might: (○・w・○)

Emoticons usually halt the conversation, so she waits a few moments for 'Half-Might is typing' to appear, and happily pockets the phone when it doesn't.

Still, she doesn't feel like jumping around again right after sitting down for so long. Maybe she'll just take a walk.

That sounds good. This bout of good weather can't be wasted just training all day long.

Alright, she's put it off long enough. Leaving Kacchan - Bakugou, remember to call him Bakugou- no wait, don't call him anything until he mentions his name! - leaving him waiting for any longer is a free ticket to oblivion via Nitro Express.

...

Well, the only way to move forwards is to take a first step, right?

She knocks on the door.

The second swing of her fist doesn't make contact.

"It's about friggin' time, bag-girl," Kaccha-Katsu- the Unnamed Blond Boy grumbles, an open door between them. "What, are you more scared of me than that god-damned villain?"

"No, I just had more time to process it this time," she snarks automatically. She takes a deep breath when his grin widens (he's smiling, he was just joking! He can joke?), and her heart settles from 'running a marathon' to 'just finished last in a marathon'.

"Come on." He vanishes from the door and, having known him for their entire life, Izumi takes that as her cue to follow.

Before she can really regain what bearings she had, Mitsuki intervenes, teeth bared in her son's direction as she peers out from the living room. "Oi, brat. You're not even at UA yet and you're already bringing home girls? Leave it a few years before-"

"Shove it, hag," Unnamed Blond Boy grits back. Izumi can't imagine speaking like that to their mother. Apparently Mitsuki (Unnamed Blonde Lady) agrees with the sentiment, because she's up and dragging him by the ear in an instant. "Ow! Quit it!"

He makes to elbow her in the stomach, but she catches it and Izumi is treated to the funniest sight she's ever laid eyes on.

"Stop hitting yourself!" Mitsuki cackles.

Maybe a small snort of amusement escapes her, because Katsuki gives her a glare of utter betrayal, forgetting for a moment to fight back. The inevitable result sends her halfway to the floor in hilarity. The ensuing shouting match takes her the rest of the way.

No matter how this meeting turns out, it was worth it.

When Katsuki arrives - five minutes after his mother sent Izumi up to his room - she covers her mouth to try and muffle her involuntary giggle at the sudden reminder.

"Fuck right the hell off, bag-girl," he says snidely, crashing onto the unoccupied half of his bed with a loud thump.

In this instance, the color red does not make him seem more dangerous. In fact it's almost cute, in the same way a crocodile with a pet name could be considered cute.

She's almost tempted to keep him embarrassed for as long as possible, just to see how bright his blush can get, but she's pretty sure he... tolerates her right now, and she wouldn't want to damage that. Brash as he is, Katsuki's esteem is something they can't help but strive for.

And come to think of it, this is an opportunity!

"So spill," he abruptly cuts into her thoughts.

"Huh?"

A deep breath. "Where. The fuck. Have you been."

Uh oh, that one wasn't even a question. He's getting mad.

This is suicide.

"I failed the exam," she says bluntly. The less information he has, the less chance he has to call her out.

"UA only publishes the passing grades," he fills in by himself. They only publish the passing practical grades, but she doesn't correct him. "Why'd you fail?"

"Couldn't think straight. My quirk takes a toll on my mind."

He snorts, all respect for her draining away. "Sounds shitty to me. What kind of hero can't think for themselves?"

Hey! That's just rude!

She echoes that thought aloud, thinking quick. Something to regain his interest... "It's not usually a problem, it's just because the robots were bigger than I'm used to teleporting-"

"Teleporting?"

Hook, line and sinker.

Actually, that makes her feel like an anime villain. Bleh. No thanks.

"Oh! I can teleport things, as long as I'm touching both the object and the place I want to send it," she says technically-truthfully. She can do that. Among other things. She picks up a pen from his stationary-laden desk in demonstration and stores it, quickly releasing it with the other hand. "The bigger the object, the more it messes with my concentration. I got stuck in a bad situation during the exam, so I ended up losing concentration too early."

She automatically looks down in shame at that. They didn't actually fail because of it, but it's still something that shouldn't have happened. Still, she forces herself to look at-

He's staring!

"Sucks," he says shortly, like he isn't a second away from judging her value. "What're you doing about it."

And there's the question, isn't it?

They haven't done anything. They collapsed at the finish line, were gracelessly dragged over it by Principal Nedzu, and they've still done nothing about it.

Katsuki isn't rushing for an answer. He's letting her think.

She needs to.

What to do?

It's a while before she feels ready to answer. It's something they've been half-planning ever since they read about it, but it stopped seeming so important after the talk with Nedzu.

"I'm gonna be a vigilante," she says with newfound resolution.

"How?" Katsuki asks.

The grin makes its way onto her face before she can stop it. His follows shortly.

He opens the door. Finally, they're home! It's been such a long day between two meetings, an unarranged 'meeting' and an apologetic texting session... he's just about ready to head upstairs and collapse, after dinner of course.

They still need to message Nice Girl at some point too, but that's fine. As long as today they're just free to roll over and die.

"Oh, Izuku!" his mother calls. Thank the world he doesn't have to cook today. He doesn't think he could-

Wait, what?

"Come again?" he asks weakly.

She sighs in mild exasperation. "We've got a guest over to dinner today, Izuku," she repeats. "Honestly, pay some attention!"

He follows her into the dining room, and a droopy, bright blond shock of hair comes into view.

Oh, come on! That's just not fair!

Chapter Text

Dinner with All Might (Yagi Toshinori, actually. How many people can claim to know All Might's name?) is...

Well, it's something, alright.

He doesn't eat. Izuku wonders if it's rude to notice that. It's probably something to do with his injury... come to think of it- no, stop muttering!

But still, it's almost a little creepy how he sits at the table, just sipping tea occasionally. At least, it probably would be if he were anyone but All Might.

And oh yeah, now he's sitting with Izuku's mother, asking for a girl named Midoriya Izumi, who as far as she knows doesn't actually exist-

"I do have a few distant family members who might have a girl named Izumi," she says, after an unreadable glance at her son. "I could try to contact them sometime and find out, would that help?"

Wait, really?

"That would be greatly appreciated," Yagi-san says, All Might's speech patterns leaking through a little if Izuku squints hard enough. The sudden image of him inflating into his muscly form, upheaving table and chairs and leaving mom utterly gobsmacked plays through Izuku's mind, and he has to duck away for a moment to straighten his face.

"Is there any particular reason you need to see this girl?" she asks, eyes narrowed. "I know you have the records, but what has you so interested in her?"

"I told you I'm All Might's secretary?" at their twin nods, his face sets, and he pulls out a familiar notebook - Izuku doesn't need to see the cover to know what it says. "Y- Midoriya Izumi left this in m- excuse me, in his possession when they met, almost a year ago. It contains some information about All Might that isn't supposed to be public knowledge."

"That he's injured?" Izuku and Yagi-san blink in sync. A trickle of blood escapes the latter's mouth. "That's a yes, then," mom continues, undeterred.

"How on earth..."

She shakes her head with an exasperated smile. "Oh, please. You come here on behalf of All Might, sporting bright blond hair, shadowed blue eyes and the need to duck whenever you enter a room. You look like you haven't eaten a thing in months, clutch at your side every other second, don't eat anything despite it being dinnertime and you outright tell me you were injured in a villain attack? At that point, it'd almost be stranger if I didn't put it all together, All Might-san."

"I don't see where this is- oh." Yagi-san stops short as the words finally seem to register.

Then slowly, deliberately, his forehead makes contact with the table.

"I wasn't exactly sold on the guess, but then you mixed yourself up when you were talking about the notebook," She finishes. He lets out a long-suffering sigh in return. "Do you mind if I read it?"

He shrugs helplessly, handing it over. "There's nothing in there that you haven't already figured out, I suppose. If anything, this only proves you're related to young Midoriya."

Mom takes a long look at the cover, and then glances towards her son. "This looks a lot like Izuku's writing," she mentions - Izuku’s heart turns to stone for a moment - flipping through some pages. "I suppose it must run in the family."

Something clicks.

Yagi-san leaves without any further incident, and Izuku doesn't know whether to be thankful that he didn't leave the book with a stranger, or upset that he didn't leave it in Izuku's reach. Still, they were prepared to never see it again back when they gave it to him, so even just a glimpse is more than they were expecting.

But that's not especially important right now.

"Mom?" he asks. His throat clamps up, but he swallows resolutely, trying not to let his voice break. "How long have you known?"

Her eyes sharpen and she blinks in clear surprise, before it's masked with a good impression of confusion. "Known what?" she asks, and despite all the evidence he's very tempted to believe her.

Words fail him for a moment. Instead, he changes and Izumi is left shifting awkwardly in his place.

...

Why isn't mom saying anything?

"...Mom?" Izumi eventually prompts, glancing up for a moment.

She can't contain a gasp of laughter as she finds herself engulfed in a warm, heavy blanket of a hug.

"Oh Izuku, you look so good!" mom gushes when she finally releases her. "Or... Izumi, is that what All Might called you?"

"...So I take it I was right then?" Izumi asks dryly, voice conspicuously high-pitched as it breaks the house’s quiet. She suddenly feels self-conscious as mom leans around her to better take in her form.

"You were, you were," she replies distractedly, still inspecting Izumi for damage. She gazes critically at her hair. "We need to take you for a haircut. You're supposed to have it cut regularly or it'll tangle up and get split ends, you know. And you need to brush the ends first, otherwise the knots bump into each other and you end up with one big knotted mess."

Izumi shrugs, running her hand experimentally through her hair and wincing when it catches. She files the info for later, vowing to take better care of it from now on.

"Is there time to get a haircut before UA?" she wonders aloud.

Mom hums. "We... should have time tomorrow actually, if you're willing to cut your training a little short. And your hair too, I'm not sure it's salvageable."

That sounds like a good deal. One day won't do any harm, anyway, as long as it's a special occasion. And a special occasion this certainly is.

Wait, she even knew about their training?

Exhaustion forgotten, the two spend the rest of the evening together on the sofa, watching television and talking, and by the end of it Izumi's voice doesn't feel quite so misplaced in the presence of their mom.

They don't end up returning to the topic of the secrets they both kept. But in the end, they're family. Are a couple of white lies really enough to change that?

...Why were they so worried in the first place?

"Woah."

Izuku reverently brushes imaginary dust from the shoulder.

"I wasn't sure whether to make you this or the cyan one," he dimly hears mom say from behind him. "So I went with both!"

The basic design is almost the same as the one they wore to UA, plus some protective gear. The separating lines are a bit wider than the original design, and it’s made in something a fair bit more durable-seeming, too.

The main difference, though, is in the colors.

The top half of the suit is a bright, sunny yellow. The dividing lines stay white, and now have some matching gloves. The pants are purple, which part of Izuku feels should be too loud, but he can't deny that it works. All the extra gear - boots, pads and toolbelt - are a leathery black, with a vague tint that reminds them of the Midoriya hair.

The colors of the non-binary pride flag.

"I have another version planned for your other form too, but I put all the work into this one since I wasn't sure when you'd tell me and..." she devolves into murmuring about measurements and materials and protective gear...

"I love it," they breathe.

Mom glows.

Today's the day!

The sky is clear, the plants are green, and even the promise of a future sunburn can't get Izumi down!

Mom knows about their quirk and still loves them as much as ever; they have a new hero costume just begging to be completed by the support department; her fluffy, newly-tamed hair bobs just a little under her chin...

And oh yeah, it's the first day of UA!

By the time he's made it into the halls of UA, Izuku's tie has been the victim of so many nervous grips and futile attempts to fix the damage done that he gives it up and just allows it to hang around his neck like a tangled handkerchief.

Whoever thought these bright red affronts to nature were acceptable wear for a teenager deserves whatever's coming to them. As long as whatever's coming to them is extremely unpleasant and preferably humiliating.

Okay, so maybe they’re a little nervous.

He stops short at the sight of class 1-A's gigantic doorway. Idly he imagines Mt. Lady's first day here, getting stuck halfway through a regular door and forcing the staff to replace it with this one.

The door's unexpectedly light, he finds out the hard way when he attempts to slide it open with his body weight, and succeeds a little too well.

The floor's expectedly solid, he discovers a moment later.

"Is this just how things are gonna be, here?" he asks the room at large with surprising vocality. He thinks he spied Nice Girl on the way down, so maybe that's why he feels so at-ease.

Sure enough, he feels a five-fingered tap on the shoulder and is able to right himself with a pop of displaced air. “Hi, Nice Girl!”

“Hi yourself, Dekiru-kun! I hope we don’t always meet like this.” She looks him over and double-takes. “Oh, I like your hair!”

“Thanks!” He grins at the reminder, pulling a newly pitch-black strand in front of his face and admiring it. “I was getting it cut anyway, and it fits better with the hero costume I’m planning to wear. We even got it quirk-dyed, so it didn’t get damaged!”

“Oh, I’m so jealous!”

As she leads him to the back of the room, a thought strikes him. "Sorry I didn't end up calling," he says quietly. "Long story, but I thought I failed the written part and I... wasn't really ready to deal with it."

Her mouth makes an O shape. "I actually forgot I gave you my number! The written part seemed pretty tough at first, but I got more points than I thought."

"Yeah, it was surprisingly simple in the end," he unthinkingly agrees, immediately feeling utterly unqualified to do so as one of the few to have failed, no matter the circumstances. "So anyway... are we just gonna keep calling each other by our nicknames?"

She shrugs. "I totally forgot your name so I just kept calling you Dekiru in my head," she tells him bluntly, smirking. "So I'm gonna do that."

"Then you're still Nice Girl," he decides. "I don't think I even heard your name, actually. My brain was a bit fried at the end there."

"Well I'm not telling you again!"

"I wouldn't want to know anyway," he grins without missing a beat.

Is this what friendship feels like?

Kacchan's in the front row, seething as Angles-boy tells him off, Izuku discovers when he deigns to inspect the class.

He isn't as worried about that as he thinks maybe he should be.

"You know, I'm a little surprised we haven't been mobbed by our classmates yet," Nice Girl suddenly says.

He blinks at that. Logically it would make sense for the class to idolise the two highest-scoring examinees (condolences to Kacchan) and want to talk to them as soon as possible. But it's possible that they've been intimidated by the sight of both the top-scorers together, or they think teaming up is cheating and want nothing to do with the cheaters, or maybe they're just waiting for an opening to talk without risking getting in trouble-

"I hope you see the irony in muttering so loudly about getting in trouble," deadpans a dull voice from the front of the room, and Izuku freezes up, peering over the heads to see-

Is that Eraser Head?!

"You're well-informed, at least." The unkempt hero negligently tosses something big and yellow to the corner of the room, saying as he does, "It took you all 14 seconds to quiet down. Time is limited. You are not rational enough."

Belatedly, Izuku feels four fingers on his shoulder and whispers an apology to Nice Girl, who was trying to snap him out of it.

She nods, gesturing back to the teacher.

"I'm your homeroom teacher, Aizawa Shouta. Nice to meet you," the teacher says like he wishes he brought a bed with him- wait, was that yellow thing- "It's kind of sudden, but put this on and head to the field."

Izuku glances back as he dazedly files out of the room behind his classmates.

It is a sleeping bag!

He picks at his new uniform in worry. A Quirk assessment? On the first day?

“What about the entrance ceremony? And the orientation?” Nice Girl voices his own thoughts.

“If you’re going to become heroes, you don’t have time for such frivolities,” the teacher dismisses unceremoniously. “UA has few restrictions in my teaching of you. It’s one of UA’s biggest selling points. This is what you signed up for.”

A murmur makes its way through the class. Izuku knows that the UA website mentions the lack of teaching restrictions, but he also knows that it isn’t one of the ‘main selling points’ in the slightest - merely a side-mention among the promises of all-star teaching staff and an incredibly high budget.

At least, not to the students. Maybe it’s different for the teachers.

“Midoriya,” Aizawa-sensei says as a hand jabs into his side, snapping him out of it. From the sound of it, the teacher’s already tried to call on him a few times, and the blood rushes to his face as fast as apologies rush from his mouth. Aizawa-sensei ignores them all. “You scored the highest on the practical exam.”

Izuku abruptly becomes very aware of the furious blond payload a few meters to the left. He takes a subtle step forwards, into Eraserhead’s area of effect, and feels a little better.

Not much, but a little.

“What was your best ball throw?”

He blinks, temporarily distracted from Kacchan. “I... don’t remember. Less than 50 meters.”

Izuku feels the eyes of everyone boring into the back of his skull as he steps further forward and Aizawa-sensei hands him a baseball. "No using classmates' quirks, and no leaving the circle. Other than that, do what you want to throw the ball as far as you can."

Well, there goes plan A of just asking Nice Girl for help.

He steps into the circle and thinks.

The most obvious choice is to just teleport-swap to a couple hundred meters away, mid-jump; throw the ball as Izumi; then shift back into the circle before she hits the floor. Izumi wouldn’t be very visible to everyone else, since she’d be so far away.

On second thought, maybe not so obvious. But that's the first thing they thought of.

Of course, that showcases teleportation as part of their quirk. And Kacchan's in the crowd, and he'd piece things together before the day's up. And maybe that would count as leaving the circle, anyway, even if they don’t hit the floor. AND Izumi has a different hair color to Izuku now, so they can’t pull off that kind of trick so easily.

Plan C then.

Two plates from UA robots are stabbed into the ground, a few feet apart. He makes a small hole in each, then a 10ft pole (for emergencies) is threaded between the two as an axle. Finally, a convenient long-handled dustpan is tied onto the mop.

It's no work of art, but it should function.

Ball goes in dustpan, slam the other end down with a hunk of robot, and off it goes! A (barely) functional catapult!

"Know your limits," Aizawa-sensei says boredly, holding up a screen to show Izuku's score. 150m exactly. Not amazing, but not bad either. "That's the foundation for a rational hero."

There are quiet murmurs from the class, mostly amounting to 'What's that quirk?', and Izuku spots an opportunity. "Sensei, is it alright if we explain our quirks to the rest of the class?"

Aizawa-sensei gives him an extremely put-upon look, but nods shortly, and Izuku is reminded that he has to actually explain their quirk.

"Um... I'm Midoriya. I can store objects light enough to carry, and then un-store them later," he speaks quickly, scratching the back of his head. Then, hoping others will mention their weaknesses in kind: "Using it too much gives me a headache."

As he bends down to re-store the parts of the catapult (the mop handle is splintered, so he doesn't bother with that), he hears a series of mutters - is that disappointment? - before a loud masculine voice overpowers them with "Hey! Relying on your teammates is Totally manly!"

Oh, they were probably expecting some amazing super-quirk from the practical exam record-holder.

...He appreciates whoever stepped in, but... why 'manly'? Any other compliment probably would've been more accurate. And what part of teamwork is inherently masculine?

"Dekiru? You've gone quiet."

"Wha-oh, just thinking," Izuku says, still kneeled in the circle, staring dazedly at where the catapult used to be. "Thanks."

Nice Girl smiles, extending a hand to help him up. "What're friends for?"

"EXPELLED?!" the class choruses in horror, dull in his ears.

Izuku shakes some of the fear away - there are plenty of opportunities for their quirk to shine here - and forces himself into analysis mode.

It's a quirk apprehension test. Everyone's done the same test before in elementary school, just without the quirks. Students go a couple at a time, watching when it isn't their turn. So it's an exercise to demonstrate the versatility of quirks, their usefulness in situations that might not appear to lend themselves well to a certain quirk.

But why the threat of expulsion-? Oh, so people with 'weaker' quirks will be motivated to find uses for them! It must be a bluff- well, maybe if someone doesn't bother trying their best, it won’t be a bluff, but surely someone like Aizawa-sensei understands how useful an invisible girl would be even if she can’t compete with everyone else when it comes to physical exercises. Surely he understands that sticky balls can be incredible for villain containment, even if the owner is too short to keep up with everyone else.

Or maybe he expects them to show ingenuity. The invisible girl can run seconds before the start signal. The boy with the sticky hair could turn his shoes into mini-trampolines, if he stuck balls to the soles and covered the bottoms with a cloth, or sand or something.

Maybe the teacher genuinely will expel the student to get the lowest score... but if they all show potential, can he really be justified?

Izuku watches the class, tallying the students who might struggle. Small-and-Purple. Invisibubble. Shocker. Sound of Silence. And... uh... Ear-Plugs. Sure.

The teacher focusses on the students taking the test, and in the background Izuku slides alongside each student on his list.

“Hey, what if you started running before he says you can? He’d never know, right?”

“I... guess he wouldn’t. Thanks!”

Invisibubble’s 50-meter dash score: 2.92 seconds.

“What if you shocked the grip tester?”

“Woah man, that’s smart! I could light the whole display up at once!”

Shocker’s grip score: 888.88kg.

Nice Girl gets in on the action too. “I guess you could just pull yourself up with your earlobes, couldn’t you? Or pull yourself down for the toe-touches.”

“Oh, that’s gonna suck royally tomorrow. Thanks though.”

Ear-Plugs’ situps score: 45.

Izuku’s own quirk is far more limited in this situation than they’d hoped. The 50m dash he passes on his own two feet, vowing to place roller blades - or at least an assortment of wheels with which to make those sorts of things - in storage at the earliest opportunity.

Meanwhile, the Creation student fabricates her own pair of roller blades from nothing. Izuku’s almost jealous.

Almost.

Shaking himself, he returns to the problem at hand. How can he launch himself without teleport-switching?

This is something that he knows should be possible. The other tests are all about speed or power and there’s a limit to how high he can score there.

But the standing long-jump is something they can work with.

He could propel himself using air again- no, not without Nice Girl’s quirk. He could use something as a springboard, but the only boards he has are brittle ones from the UA robots. He could teleport-switch- No, he just decided that that wasn’t an option! What’s wrong with him?

And then an idea strikes him, so simple yet so utterly insane that he desperately wants to try it just for the sheer spectacle.

And if it works... Oh, if it works.

He’s vaguely aware of his peers’ eyes on him as he weaves together the 10ft poles at a 90 degree angle using robot cable, but he ignores them and winds it around again for good measure.

He’s just lucky that Aizawa-sensei didn’t specify a time limit, or he’d probably have taken last place.

The winding done, he unstores a lightweight tarp (they’d actually forgotten they were carrying this for a while, which is strange given that their quirk seems to rely on their memories to function. Perhaps the memories are subconscious or something? Or perhaps they’ve made some wrong assumptions somewhere along the-), cuts it down to size and ties a corner to each of the four free ends of the poles.

Perfect.

He lifts the impromptu kite over his head and jogs over to the standing long-jump pit. The air collapses around him as he goes, cracking against his skin with each volume he stores.

And then, when he’s up twenty volumes, he jumps.

He locks his legs and an arm around the vertical pole. His other hand stretches into the centre of the kite, and he releases a blast of air.

A giddy laugh escapes him as the sand pit glides out from under him. Another few hits and the wind catches him briefly, dragging him a few feet to the left and he almost overbalances but he saves it at the last second with a well-placed air shot.

He’s down to three bursts remaining and is just preparing to draw more from the surroundings, when one of the tarp’s corners come loose and the air rushes out and he slams into the grass with the force of an angry god.

But still, even as he rubs his aching spine and stores the undone mess of poles, wires and tarp, he can’t wipe the smile off his face.

They can FLY!

Chapter Text

Shouta scowls across his new class of hopefuls as they run, jump and throw their way onto the leaderboards. He can see the potential in all of them, a rarity in the wake of such an irrational entrance exam.

For some, the potential is in their quirks and bogged down by their personality flaws, and he will have his work cut out for him to iron out those flaws.

For others, their personalities do the heavy lifting, and it’s Shouta’s job to simply build up their quirks and their knowledge, and tear down their insecurities.

A few pull stunts that he hadn’t expected, showcasing new applications for quirks and minds that he wouldn’t have otherwise pegged as capable.

For one, it’s... strange.

Midoriya Izuku’s is a quirk that few would call powerful, but he has seen his own potential in a way that few children can, and he seems to have built it up to a point that many pro-heroes struggle with. He turns the limitations to his quirk to his advantage, takes into account synergies with his peers, and finds loopholes in its functioning to apply it to a greater range of situations.

All the makings of a hero.

And yet...

His name is at the bottom.

It starts halfway up the list, stays there with the 50m dash and briefly rises further after his flight (flight. With a storage quirk.), breaking the top ten. But then he just... gives up.

As in, actively sabotages himself.

He jogs for the endurance run, but he fakes a limp and quits before anyone else (besides Hagakure, who cuts off half of each lap, by the rustling in the grass, and has ‘completed seven laps’ by the time she taps out). He fakes the injury well (almost), but he messes up the timing near the end and Shouta knows that on an actual twisted ankle that would hurt like Hell.

If that were all, Shouta would write off the limp as a result of the botched flight, the stumble as adrenaline-fueled painlessness, and the early quitting as a rational decision to avoid damaging the ankle further when he might need it for future tests.

But that isn’t all.

The grip strength, he comes second-to-last in, ahead only of Mineta, and only by a few points. Shouta isn’t stupid; Midoriya’s body is diligently honed under that PE uniform. Unless Hagakure is secretly ripped, Midoriya is holding back a lot. And that’s ignoring his quirk - surely he must carry around string or elastic or wires to wrap around the grip-tester.

He sandbags his situps score. He trips partway through the side-to-side steps, citing his ‘hurt’ ankle. He actually tries in the seated toe-touch, but only because he knows he can’t do it.

He’s wonderfully attentive. Between tests, when he isn’t talking to the less physically-oriented students (trying to gauge their middle-school scores, likely) he watches and listens for other scores to base his own off, trying to get a grasp for where to let his score land for minimum points without being suspicious.

But if he actively tries to lose, then he has no potential, no matter how skilled he is. Any student who doesn’t want to be here threatens the development of the rest. Could threaten the lives of the rest, in the future.

So the test ends, and Shouta calls up the results, and Midoriya’s name is on the bottom.

“Midoriya.”

The child’s face flattens from something oddly relieved into tense fear, before pulling itself into a grimace. He swallows deeply.

There are whispers from other classmates. He levels an unimpressed glare at Midoriya, ignoring them.

“You have no potential. Get out.”

One of the girls gasps loudly at that, having thought this to be a ruse. He ignores her. There’s always one.

“Wait, you can’t do that!” It isn’t Midoriya or the girl who speaks up, which is all that gives Shouta pause. Instead, it’s a panicked Mineta Minoru, breaking free of the crowd with a leap powered by his bouncy shoes.

“Give me one good reason.”

“He helped me! Without him... I-I would’ve come last!” Mineta sniffles at this admission, rubbing scared tears from his eyes. Clearly he expects to be expelled in Midoriya’s place.

There’s a second of silence as he processes this revelation. Midoriya’s breathing shudders in an effort of forced calm.

“Me too!” comes another voice, and it takes him a moment to pin voice to face. Then he realises that’s because there’s no face to pin it to; it’s Hagakure. “He helped me with my racing scores!”

Those racing scores are not insubstantial, and her method took the kind of thinking that he encourages. That’s a point for Midoriya.

“And this!” Mineta adds, raising the sole of his shoe to Shouta, revealing four sand-coated orbs on the bottom. Come to think of it, that is distinctly Midoriya in its genius.

“He gave me the idea for the grip tester thing!” Kaminari speaks up, stepping forward.

Kouda steps forward too. He raises his hands as if to sign something, then seems to think better of it. Something to return to. Instead, he joins the other students in the front, nodding along emphatically.

Uraraka steps up too, and Shouta thinks it’s about the exam before she says, “I helped Jirou-chan because of him!”

Jirou blinks, then steps forward too. “Can’t argue with that,” she shrugs.

Shouta counts the heads. Five. No, six, counting Hagakure. Seven, as Asui hops up alongside.

Eight, as Iida steps up, chopping the air. “Midoriya-kun was the highest-scorer ever in the exam. If he doesn’t deserve to be here, I don’t believe any of us can claim that right!”

“That just isn’t manly!” Kirishima decides, joining them all.

“Enough,” Shouta says finally, and the hard quiet in his tone silences them all. He turns back to a shellshocked Midoriya, picking him apart with his eyes, searching so thoroughly that his quirk tries to snap into place.

Midoriya Izuku, the one who failed the written exam on a technicality, and got in anyway on another one. The boy who blew All Might’s practical exam record out of the water, squeezing all the use out of his storage quirk that he possibly could. The one, now, who helped his classmates become better versions of themselves, who convinced another to do the same, within a single morning.

But most importantly, the one who threw all his progress, all his advantages away for...

“...Why?” Shouta asks, the only question he can think to ask. It makes no sense; he’s missing something, he knows it, and he wants to know what.

Midoriya calms a little at the question, surreptitiously rubbing away tears, and when he uncovers his face it’s a mask of confidence as he pulls his hands behind his back.

“Because everyone here has potential,” he says simply.

And then Shouta understands.

‘The person with the lowest score overall will be deemed devoid of potential, and expelled,’ he’d said. Shouta has seen nothing but potential from this boy, but he’s the one with the lowest score.

Midoriya engineered exactly this situation, right down to the outcry from his classmates. Shouta’s hands are tied. He can’t expel anyone.

At least, in Midoriya’s mind. Shouta is not Midoriya.

“If you hadn’t given Hagakure that idea, she would have come last,” Shouta deadpans. He knows that that honor likely would have gone to Mineta, but Hagakure’s case is more compelling because, thanks to Midoriya’s interference, she’s fourth on the leaderboard. “Explain why I shouldn’t expel her instead.”

There’s a pause. “The invisible girl,” he clarifies tiredly and sudden understanding flashes across Midoriya’s face. He didn’t even know their names?

“Can you prove she’d come last?” Midoriya counters, which Shouta can’t. “Besides, she’ll see opportunities like that in everything from now on. As long as she isn’t talking, she could use context clues to make people think she’s anywhere. That’s her potential now.”

Shouta blinks, realising that he’s right. A simple suggestion, when it worked, must have opened up all sorts of possibilities in Hagakure’s mind. “And Mineta?”

Mineta cringes at the attention, but Midoriya stands strong. “He can use his quirk for bouncing instead of just sticking, now. And he has great mobility. And he was the first one to stand up for me.”

“And again, why shouldn’t I expel you? A student who doesn’t try their hardest has no potential, regardless of anything else.”

It’s a bluff, but Midoriya’s mouth drops open anyway. But then he schools his expression, and says boldly, head raised high, “This is trying my hardest. If you do expel me, then you should, because I’d have nothing to learn from a teacher that doesn’t understand that.”

Sheer guts aside, he has Shouta there. If Shouta were such a blind, braindead idiot that he couldn’t see the overwhelming potential oozing from Midoriya’s being, and the pains he has gone through to construct this ‘everybody wins’ scenario, then he would hang up his teaching license without a second thought.

And if Shouta expelled him now despite all he’s seen... He glances over the half of the class still stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Midoriya.

There would be blood.

“Welcome to Class 1-A,” he grins madly.

“Dude, that was so badass!” Kaminari proclaims loudly as they walk back, heedless of the teacher listening in. “You totally had him beat!”

Pulling from years of underground hero work, Shouta very carefully does not look towards him. This budding conversation feels enlightening, somehow.

“O-oh, thanks!” Midoriya replies, glowing with embarrassment, and maybe a little pride. “I wasn’t sure it would work, actually, but I think Principal Nedzu would’ve backed me up if I explained it to him.”

Yes, he would have done. The rat adores those kinds of mind-games, and judging by Midoriya’s trust, they’re acquainted and on good terms.

A relieved sigh escapes him, unbidden. That would be a shitshow; he’d lose that argument (swayed by the mere fact that Midoriya actually had a fallback plan), and they’d never take his threats of expulsion seriously again.

“How... How did you know everyone had potential?” Mineta asks, like he’s afraid of the answer. Given that his score is one of the lowest despite his improvements, it isn’t surprising.

“Everyone has potential,” Midoriya says like it’s obvious, emboldened by his success. “The only way to not have potential is to give up on finding it. Or just have a bad personality for hero work, I guess.”

Kaminari frowns. “But what if your quirk is something like... I dunno, something a hero can’t use?”

“Name one,” he fires back immediately, with no hesitation.

Oh how naive, to make a challenge so bold where the teacher can hear him. “Chromatic Eye,” Shouta cuts in, to various yelps and yells of surprise. “Your eye-color changes depending on your mood.”

It’s his grandmother’s quirk, and it’s one of the few that even Shouta struggles to find uses for in the hero industry. Anything he can think of is just too situational, or won’t actually work due to the color-change being restricted to the user’s mood instead of directly controlled.

And Midoriya lights up when he hears it.

“That’s a 100% accurate physical sign of your mood! A hero with that quirk would appear way more trustworthy, and it’d be nearly impossible to impersonate them properly even with mimicking and quirk-copying quirks, because nobody can copy their mind! Plus you could hook up an eye to a sensor, and have a hero costume that changes color to match your eyes, to make you harder to see in certain situations, or to act as dazzle camoflage!

You could have systems in place to manipulate your emotions to keep you calm when you need to be, or to automatically deploy anaesthetic when you’re in pain so you can fight for longer. If you get good at keeping your emotions in check, you could have a hero costume that changes shape depending on your mood, to make you more intimidating when you’re angry, or more approachable when you’re trying to calm someone down... you could base an entire hero gimmick on that, maybe a blue-eyed folk hero/yellow-eyed dragon dichotomy... and you could switch fighting styles to match your mood with a costume that responds to improve your current style, which would throw villains off...”

He devolves into a murmuring tangent about how an eye would actually accomplish the color-change and whether it would be possible to harvest those pigments or create them at a faster rate, not noticing everyone else’s stunned silence.

He did it. The problem child actually did it. He thought up better uses for that quirk - the very quirk that taught Shouta that pretending anyone could be a hero was an irrational over-simplification - than Shouta had in his entire life, in the span of two minutes. Without so much as a stutter.

And better yet, Shouta caught a recording of the whole conversation.

“Dekiru-kun, you’re mumbling again,” Nice Girl prods gently, and Izuku snaps back into reality, apologising as he simultaneously realises that he’s not sure where they are. “Never mind that! Can you really do that for any quirk you hear about? That’s so cool!”

He blinks. “I guess so... It’s kind of a reflex at this point. It’s easier for some quirks than for others, because a lot of the time the same effect can have a lot of different causes, and that changes how the cause could be repurposed to get a different effect.”

Nice Girl stares uncomprehendingly, and he sighs. “Okay, take Chromatic Eye. The change in eye color could be caused by a material in the iris that reacts to electrical impulses to change its color. In this case, if you can safely harvest some of that material from the eye and synthesise more of it, you could make a color-changing suit, and that could be applied to your image as a hero.

But if the color change was caused by something else, you wouldn’t be able to do that, but other things might be possible instead. Some quirks are just hard to define, even if you see them in action.”

She’s nodding intently as his explanation comes to an end, and he has a moment to muse how gratifying it is to have someone listening to - and following along with - their thoughts for once.

Maybe they’d make a good teacher, sometime in the future.

“But what about something like my quirk?” Nice Girl prompts after a moment. He levels her with a knowing look and she has the decency to look chastised. “Okay, so I’m curious, so sue me.”

He chuckles. “I’ve actually been meaning to talk with you about that. I don’t think your quirk is what you think it is.”

She’s lost for words for a moment. “...How so?”

“Well, when you were swinging that street light around in the exam, what kind of damage did it cause?”

Her confusion doesn’t waver. “Crushing, right? It crushed them.”

“It’s not a trick question, yeah. But... if it crushes things, then that means it still has mass, right? Which means you’re making it ignore gravity instead.”

“Right. My quirk makes things float.”

“But if you’re just making it ignore gravity... how do you swing it?” Her face begins to show the beginnings of realisation, so he presses on, “If it still has mass, it’s too heavy to swing. But if it doesn’t have mass, it’s too light to do any damage!”

Nice Girl’s mouth works without the cooperation of her brain for a moment.

“But then, what is it, right?” he asks for her, and she nods helplessly. “It’s Assistive Telekinesis! When you touch something, you’re actually imbuing it with telekinetic power, which then assists you by making the object act as if it were weightless! That raises so many questions! Do you- uh, Nice Girl?”

She’s stopped walking at some point, Izuku abruptly realises when he turns and she isn’t there anymore. Instead she’s leaning against a half-open door, a white-knuckled hand on the handle, pale-faced and breathing deeply.

Incongruously, her pinky is raised.

...Oh god, they’ve really screwed this up, haven’t they? You don’t just drop that kind of revelation on someone, not when quirks are so woven into people’s identities.

What do you say in a situation like this?

Wait, Aizawa-sensei’s a pro-hero, he could-

He’s gone, along with the rest of the class, probably already back in the classroom, and Izuku still doesn’t know their way around. Great.

Not knowing what else to do, Izuku flits back to Nice Girl’s side, pulls her from the doorway and gently pushes down on her shaking shoulder. “Come on, let’s sit down for a bit, okay?”

She nods wordlessly, swallowing, and sinks to the floor, her back to the wall. Now unburdened, her foot taps listlessly to no beat in particular, but her breathing begins to even out as the minutes pass.

And as the minutes pass, it slowly dawns on Izuku...

What were they THINKING?!

They just purposely bombed a test on the first day of UA, on a HUNCH! On a whim, a plan with an entire three seconds of thought behind it! What if Aizawa-sensei hadn’t listened to the other students? What if he’d just sent them home, what if he didn’t need to go through Nedzu at all? What if Nedzu didn’t agree with them, didn’t help them out, because he expected better of them than to make such a stupid-

“Dekiru-kun. Calm.”

Someone takes his hand and squeezes it. Slowly, Nice Girl’s voice filters in, and they reconstruct the scenario in their head. Right, they’re sitting on the floor of an unknown hallway... being comforted by the person whose worldview they just tilted.

“So, who goes first?” is the first thing that rolls out of his mouth, before he thinks to shut it, when they’ve both somewhat recovered from their simultaneous panic attacks. Nice Girl laughs a little too hard and he’s not really sure what’s funny, but the pause gives him a chance to regain his wits. “You first, I think that makes most sense.”

Talking about Nice Girl’s quirk will put her at ease, and it’s a comfort zone for Izuku. They can deal with the expulsion thing later.

“I just... my quirk’s called Zero Gravity and... I’ve always loved the stars, and my quirk made me feel like I was... closer to them, I guess? But if it’s just telekinesis instead... I lose that.” She rubs her head, grinning sheepishly. “It sounds stupid when I say it out loud, doesn’t it?”

“Not really. Quirks are a part of you, learning they aren’t what you thought they were is a bit like...”

A bit like learning that you’re trans, their mind supplies. They try to shake it away, but the thought clings, driving out anything less... anything they could use to fill the gaps.

“It’s like challenging your identity, right?” he finally settles on, settling further and rubbing tears from his eyes for the umpteenth time today. He’s practically lying down now, and Nice Girl is the same, and he’s thirsty. Probably from all the crying. He pulls a pair of bottled mineral water from storage and hands one to Nice Girl, who smiles and pops it open.

A hearty swig later, and they’re both a little more grounded in reality.

“So... Telekinesis?” Nice Girl finally prompts. “You said it was... uh, what was it?”

“Assistive Telekinesis. It assists you in moving things, so...“ he trails off, unsure where he was going with the sentence.

“So...” she echoes, “what does that change?”

“Well, it depends how it works. Even if we know it’s telekinesis, we don’t know how much of it is based on your perception and expectations, and how much is set in stone. For all we know, if you touch an object expecting it to become super heavy, it might do that. Or you might be able to make things move at will, or tell when an object under your control is being moved by something else... there’s all sorts of possibilities. For now though...”

He was going to suggest having a fan blow on the object, but they’d need the creation girl for that, and for that they’d need to find the-

They’re skipping class! On the first day!

“Uh, we need to go!”

“Ah! You’re right!”

Chapter Text

Having lost their way, Izuku and Nice Girl rejoin class a good twenty minutes late, but Aizawa-sensei gives them a once-over and silently motions them to their seats. Do they really look that pitiful?

There’s a lot of whispering, especially from Pinky and Shocker’s group, and some of what they have to say has him blushing to the roots of his hair.

The second day they’ve ever met is a little early for that.

And then... the rest of the school day is normal.

Relatively-speaking. In a school with staff comprised entirely of pro heroes, ‘normal’ is somewhat subjective a term. But still, outside of Hero Studies, they have most of the same classes that they had in middle school, taught in similar ways, maybe a little more difficult but still perfectly manageable.

There’s no interruptions, no swerves in the lesson plan, no (explicit) threat of expulsion...

The big difference is Kacchan. Where in middle school he was rowdy and cocky even in front of the teacher, getting into UA where he doesn’t have the same rapport with the highest authority is giving him pause.

He glares. He swears. But he doesn’t explode.

The only kinda disappointing thing is that, between the class seating assignments and the chaos of lunchtime (especially with the need to find a hidden spot to eat as Izumi), they don’t have the chance to speak with the green-haired frog-girl they know must be Froppy.

Later on, when Mom asks about their day, Izuku has nothing but smiles for her.

Something felt off to Katsuki somehow. He felt like he was missing something in class today.

Fucking Deku was there, that’s something, inexplicably top of the class like the cheating bastard he is. Idiot changed his hair too, and even if it looks exactly the fucking same as it always did, it means he’s hiding something.

Katsuki isn’t a goddamn moron. Why would the fucker change his hair now of all days? He isn’t like Shitty Hair, he wouldn’t know occasion if it slapped him in the face, he’s a scheming son of a bitch who treats Katsuki like he’s somehow less than Deku, patronising and fucking ni-

He kicks his work drawer so hard it leaves a dent, and drops the train of thought.

There’s a knock on the front door. Then five minutes later, when he’s sorted everything into its place and is just getting to the homework, a knock on his bedroom door.

He slams the door open, sees green, and his pencil snaps. Of course it’s shitty Deku, here to take Katsuki’s shattered dream of glory and wipe his ass on it. Of course he isn’t satisfied with showing him - everyone - up with a fucking fake quirk. Who else could it-

Deku isn’t green anymore, is he.

It’s Bag-Girl.

Katsuki doesn’t brighten up, but maybe the day does, a little.

This isn’t as stupid as it feels, she tells herself.

(Lies to herself.)

Izuku’s position in the Hero course is tenuous at best right now. They’ve looked up the rules for transferring to the Hero course via the Sports Festival, and not only do they need to place on the podium, but only one student can be transferred per year.

That’s insanity! Izuku has an advantage, what with already having access to the Hero course education, but the Sports Festival all happens in one day, and fatigue - mental moreso than physical - will set in fast if they use their quirk too much. Not to mention the competitors like Kacchan, Nice Girl and Peppermint, who could wipe the floor with Izuku in the right circumstances; or the free-for-all and the team exercise, where Izuku will be most vulnerable, before the one-on-one battles are even mentioned.

Long story short, it’s unlikely to happen.

They refuse to be caught without a backup plan again. So a new vigilante takes to the streets with a phone, a pipe, and a short-ranged teleportation quirk.

...

Yeah, no. Even she isn’t quite dumb enough for that.

She’s only walking down the street at night in all black and a face-mask with a short pipe and a burner phone in her pockets, maybe taking a few shortcuts through dimly-lit alleyways on her way to an undefined destination. It isn’t like she’s looking for trouble, honest!

Chuckling to herself, she pulls out the phone and begins to acquaint herself with it.

Perhaps she should have done that earlier.

It’s one of those bulky feature-phones with a backlit LCD screen - theoretically designed for the older generation who’d be used to them, except smartphones have been around since pretty much the dawn of quirks. In practice they’re more helpful for people with quirks that limit their success with touchscreens, or for people who want something cheaper, less breakable or longer-lasting than a smartphone.

That, or... well. What Izumi’s using it for.

The model they got isn’t exactly charming, but it has a few handy shortcut buttons so she doesn’t need to sieve through menus: a flashlight, a poor-quality camera, SMS linked to Katsuki’s own burner, and an emergency button on the back, which notifies him of her location when she’s in danger.

She was surprised Katsuki agreed to that one - demanded it, in fact - in their impromptu planning session. They’d have thought he’d distance himself from a vigilante to avoid risking his career by association, but instead he launched himself into the idea with gusto, with only a short ‘Heroes work with vigilantes all the time, fuck off,’ for explanation.

It’s an excuse, because only underground heroes tend to work with vigilantes, and Katsuki is aiming for Number 1 and will accept no substitutes.

Perhaps the Sludge Villain incident affected him more than he lets on; after an experience like that, nobody left to lean on, she can see why he’d want to keep her from the same.

She’s brought from her thoughts by a scuffle up ahead, and she looks up just in time to watch as a heavy-set man is dragged into an alley. The man swears vigorously when he loses his grip on the wall’s corner, his hand comes away bloody, and he disappears behind the bricks.

Izumi stores her shoes and silently treads her way over to the corner, as fast as she can under the background noise. She wishes she could do anything but chance a peek around, but she takes the risk and does just that.

“I don’t have a phone!” the victim is saying as she pulls her hood over her face and creeps in through the shadows. The mugger’s slit eyes are aglow in the dark, as she stands outside arm’s length, unnaturally still, glaring holes in him. The victim is gesticulating wildly in frustration, but his legs stay very conspicuously stationary.

She seems just as annoyed, pinching the bridge of her snout. “What kind of guy doesn’t have a phone?! How’re you supposed to do anything without a phone?”

“Fucking- emails! I’m not some needy brat, I can wait a few hours for a reply! Let me go already!”

She draws what looks like a table knife but is probably scarily sharpened, and Izumi swallows so heavily she’s sure they’ll hear her. They don’t, though. “Well give me something, damnit, I don’t care what!”

The funny thing about quirks that rely on eyesight is how easily their users get tunnel-vision.

One punch to the side of the head drops the mugger (and the knife) like a rock, and before she can so much as curse, Izumi is on her and zip-tying her wrists together.

“Good hustle,” she huffs in amused satisfaction. That was almost easy, though her wrist aches a little now.

“F-fuck off,” manages the freshly-concussed basilisk woman from the dirty floor. Somehow it lacks any real heat. “Sneaky bitch.”

“Here, lemme get that for you.” Izumi rolls her onto her side, then pulls her straight into a sitting position, to the bemusement of both mugger and victim. “Hey, could you call the police?” she asks the victim, and gets a very unimpressed look in return.

“Still don’t have a phone,” he says blandly.

“Oh, right.”

There’s an awkward silence, and then she remembers the burner phone.

It rings three times before “Emergency services, how can I help you?” comes from the other end, and she’s directed to the police department.

“Hello, I... found a mugger.” Izumi blinks rapidly for a moment, all social ability leaving her head, pulling the phone from her ear. “Hey, where are we?” she asks nobody in particular.

Both sides of the conflict slump in resignation.

“I’ll go check,” says... it feels awkward just calling him the Victim, but that’s who he is until he gives a name.

“Don’t bother,” Snake Lady says before he can take a step. He tries to anyway, but her eyes are trained on him long enough to finish, “It’s right outside the Rebar Valley in Alderaan.”

“Why-“

“I’m cold,” she snaps irritably, and Izumi shuts up. “You have a mean hook but you’re hella dense.”

“Too right,” Victim says, and from this moment forth Izumi will take great pleasure in his nickname.

“You’re not supposed to back up your mugger,” she points out indignantly. Vaguely, a part of her is aware of the police officer slowly dozing off on the other end of the line, but it doesn’t quite click for the moment.

He scoffs. “Even a stopped clock is right twice a day.”

Snake Lady lifts up both tied-up feet and slams them down on Victim’s toes. “Bitch, I just wanted to make a call!” she yells over his cursing.

“Then why did you hold me at knife-point?!”

“I panicked! Why did Miss- ...uh, Mister?” She breaks off, side-eyeing Izumi expectantly.

“...Mx,” Izumi supplies, tiredly rubbing her eyes. What is life, anyway?

“Why did... Mx-Up over here try to knock my block off?!”

“Wha- I also panicked! You had a knife! You were waving it in his face!”

“I didn’t mean it, okay?!”

“THEN WHY WERE YOU CARRYING A KNIFE?!”

“IT’S A TABLE KNIFE! I HAVE A FORK TOO!”

It only devolves from there, and somehow by the end of the whole entirely insane debacle, the newly-dubbed Mx-Up has traded numbers with both Snake Lady and Victim, who actually both own phones and know their numbers by heart, but who both left them at home today by some massive coincidence.

Snake Lady gets her phone call, too - on Mx-Up’s burner - to assure her family that she hasn’t been murdered since she went off the grid three days ago, and she’s just been walking home because she’s flat broke and took a wrong train.

By that point in the conversation Izumi’s just super ready to collapse into bed already, so she doesn’t pay enough thought to keep track of everything. And anyway, that’s around when the police arrive, so the three share a police car back to the station and a far more amicable game of eye spy than any of the officers can begin to fathom.

By unspoken agreement, the incident is sold as a simple misunderstanding, and Snake Lady’s illegal quirk-use and Mx-Up’s minor bludgeoning - quirkless though it may be - aren’t brought up. Snake Lady waves a happy goodbye as the cop car pulls away to take her home; Izumi’s allowed to keep the face-mask on; and she and Victim are released unto the world following standard protocol.

Did... Did they do it? Does this count?

Are they a vigilante yet?

Sighing, Izuku kicks off their shoes and crumples onto the couch, a full two hours later than they’d planned and running on as many brain cells. The door slowly creaks closed in their wake, leaving them in almost pitch darkness... not that they’d prefer an alternative.

They just need a minute to reform from their constituent atoms, and then they’ll find the energy to...

The light clicks on.

“Izuku, it’s time to get up,” comes Mom’s gentle voice from the door.

Groggily, Izuku un-stores their smartphone.

“A new day... IS HERE!” blares merrily through tinny speakers, the soundtrack of their impending doom.

“I won’t ask where you were last night,” Mom continues, as Izuku blindly swipes at the screen. She finishes the sentence just as the alarm shuts off, leaving the living room discomfortingly silent.

They blearily crack an eye open, sending awareness through their body... Izumi’s body. The two feel distinctly different, though they couldn’t voice how.

“It’s time to get up, Izuk- Izumi,” Mom reminds her again, just as gently. Vaguely, she’s aware that she’s been staring into space for several seconds. “It’s your second day of-“

“UA!” Izumi springs off the cushions as the urgency slams into her like a truck. “I’m not late, am I?”

“No-“

“I can’t be late on the second day!“

“You’re not-“

“I missed like half a lesson already yesterday!”

“Wait, wh-?”

“How long do I-“

“IZUKU! -mi. It’s 6am.”

Izumi blinks rapidly, shocked into stillness. Laboriously, she calculates. 6am is...

She collapses back into the cushions. “I’m going back to slee-“

A wad of folded-up clothes strikes her face. “Not a chance. Get ready for school, or I might actually want to know why you’re sleeping on the sofa.”

Izumi gets ready for school.

Chapter Text

Izuku's hero costume is the same blue-green as the tracksuit he wore for the entrance exam.

They'd love to wear the cheerful, pride-inspired suit mom showed them before. They planned to, even. But as they tried to send in the specifications and the base outfit to the Support department...

The more they wrote, the further the heat drained from their face, the more their hands shook, the drier their throat became.

In the end, they finished the shakily-written letter and packed the pride costume, but they just couldn't find the strength to hand it in.

Izuku's lip curls in frustration as he opens the box further, revealing the new gear built by the Support department. It's such a stupid hang-up. If anyone even knows the nonbinary pride colors, let alone connects them to Izuku's costume as anything more than a coincidence (it isn't like the costume's patterning is anything close to those clean horizontal stripes after all), they're probably already part of the community.

He sighs and clips the box back shut, dragging it by the handle off the shelf.

Something to deal with in the future.

He ducks around a corner between here and the changing rooms, as they always did in middle school.

As bummed as Izuku is with their costume, and as tired as their... extracurricular activities made them (and really, they should have picked better patrol times or researched some resting techniques beforehand), all of that is washed away by the slow onset of giddy realisation that this is Heroics! Taught by All Might!

They hope he's taken some of their advice to heart in the past ten months. All Might's facade is practically impenetrable to the naked eye, so they won't truly be able to tell until they see him in action.

And it isn't as if they can ask him, as Izuku. Especially with a costume designed after him (what were they thinking, putting a smile on the respirator?!)

Shaking his head, Izuku tunes back into All Might's explanation of the exercise: The class is split into teams of two, with one team per match as heroes, and the other as villains. The villain team hides a fake bomb, and the heroes try to touch it before time runs out.

It's a massive oversimplification of real life - the bomb would need disarming, the villains would try to escape the blast unless they're suicidal, the-

Okay, that isn't important right now. Switch tracks.

Izuku turns around the two teams in their mind. If they're a villain, they should keep the bomb as inaccessible as possible from the most likely avenues of attack - and preferably keep it at least somewhat mobile as well, in case of emergency. For most matchups, that means keeping it high up in the building; for others, away from windows and roof access. Near the windows or the stairs, but only if enemy mobility is limited.

If they're a hero-

"Villain Team D: Midoriya Izuku and Asui Tsuyu! And facing them..." All Might rummages in the box of names for a moment, picking out two more, "...Todoroki Shouto and Mineta Minoru!"

Great, now that they know who they're dealing with, they can start to make some actual plans! Now, their partner's quirk is...

Erm...

Well, they'll meet their partner soon enough so they'll have more time to form a plan. As long as they know the hero team's quirks, they'll be...

...fine...

Perhaps they should have memorised some names yesterday-

"Midoriya."

He yelps in fright at the new voice, tamping down the urge to switch to Izumi to make themselves harder to hit. Standing there, for who knows how long, is-

"Froppy?" he blinks at the frog girl from yesterday. "You're, uh."

He forgot her name. Come on, All Might said it less than a minute ago! Are they just destined to call everyone by nicknames for all eternity?

"Half-Might," she nods matter-of-factly back at him, "You're Midoriya Izuku."

She politely ignores (or maybe doesn't notice) his reddening face at the username as he tries desperately not to glance in All Might's direction. He thinks he almost succeeds.

No, wait, focus on the assignment. They can catch up later.

"Which ones are the hero team?"

Froppy points with two oversized fingers (or are those just the gloves?) at what may be the oddest impromptu pair in the class. "The one with red-and-white hair, and the grape boy."

"Fire-ice and Sticky orbs," he recalls their quirks from yesterday, wincing. That's an awful matchup, quirk-wise. For Froppy especially.

Grapes has the potential to be very stealthy and mobile, perfect for the hero team. He could enter from any point in the building, severely limiting their options for the bomb's location. He's small, difficult to capture, but his quirk is perfect for capturing them.

Meanwhile, Peppermint's quirk is a perfect counter for Froppy's. Amphibious quirk-users are almost invariably cold-blooded so it's very likely that Froppy is, too-

"I am," she confirms,

-and the volumes of ice that Peppermint was outputting yesterday would easily be enough to slow her, if not outright send her into hibernation. And he could freeze both them and the bomb to the ground, limiting their mobility even further.

Really, he could probably take them both out and win the exercise in a single wave of ice, and Peppermint... knows that... too...

Izuku's thoughts grind to an enlightened halt.

Huh.

And with that costume, it's highly likely that-

"I'll be right back," he murmurs.

Shouto will win this. He has no doubt.

Perhaps it's better to say that 'his team' will win this, but the truth is the same. He will overwhelm them.

It will be over-

"BEGIN!" calls All Might across the speakers.

-now.

Ice bursts from his body, down the halls, up the stairs, and it's over.

The frog-like girl cannot handle temperatures this low, he reflects as he walks. The boy's storage quirk is no match for his. And that is assuming they both aren't trapped in his ice, which they could not have seen coming.

Mineta, climbing the walls of the building from the outside, was spared from the ice, but he is inconsequential.

Shouto climbs the icy stairs with equal parts practiced ease and the aid of his spiked boots. Midoriya - that was his name - even if he is able to fight, he is alone now, and weaker than Shouto. And Shouto is in his element.

More than metaphorically.

He arrives on the second floor. Midoriya appears smart enough, however, and will not have allowed the bomb to be placed near the edges of the building. Shouto has no reason to check the windowed rooms. If he is incorrect, he supposes Mineta will have a use in this exercise after all.

Third floor. His musings come up short, and he simply takes in the sounds of his own footsteps, crunching lightly in the frost. He adjusts the false-ice gauntlet on his left side, vicious satisfaction in his chest at the thought of what the old man would think if he saw this costume.

He glances into the rooms as he passes. There is little to see; minimal furnishings, all frozen over, as expected.

Until-

He blinks. This room isn't frozen. Perhaps the door was closed when he released his right side. Which means that since then, it was opened.

He steps inside, a slight crunch beneath his feet despite the lack of frost. Odd. He peers down, but the room is too dimly-lit to tell what it is.

He probably shouldn't step on it.

Shouto continues on, suspicions mounting as he goes. Most of the rooms are frozen over, but some have the same crunch underfoot, and these rooms are in various states of cold.

Some are as icy as all the others. Some are entirely spotless of ice.

He notices that the doors are untouched by frost, too. They weren't closed after all.

Frowning, he freezes one of the untouched rooms. It ices over, as he half-expected it not to, but with an odd crackling sound that lingers long afterwards.

Strange.

He picks up the pace across the floor, the crunching heavier beneath his boots. Then up to floor four.

Crunch.

...That one was different, more pronounced. He glances down.

It's that grit again-

Wait. Grit-!

There he is. Just as Midori-chan said he would be.

Tsu double-checks her grip on the fragile flour-sack in her arms.

She waits and patiently watches as Todoroki-chan glances into each room. When he comes to the first site of their experiments, he stops halfway into the room and glances down, then hastily steps back out. He checks the next rooms more thoroughly.

Also part of the plan. The evidence has been dealt with, as best as they could. He shouldn't see it coming.

She shivers and forces down an unhappy ribbit, curling further into the thick layers of borrowed clothes. Most of them speak horror stories of Midori-chan's fashion sense, but she can't complain - not when the innermost one is a lilypad-green turtleneck, decorated all over with little cutesy pink and lime frogs.

The thought brings some welcome warmth to her cheeks, and she burrows further into the clothes to protect them from the frigid air. She has a small heater built into her hero suit, but it's fairly loud; she'll have to wait until she engages to turn it on. Until then she's sluggish, but at the very least she's warm enough to stave away her sleepiness.

As Todoroki-chan continues to check the rooms, she hefts the sack onto her shoulder and climbs silently into position, clinging to the wall above and behind the stairs.

She listens as he clears the floor, speeding up the further he goes, and then he comes into view below her, tromping up the iced stairs until she has a perfect view of the back of his head. She presses her earpiece and runs her finger over the mic, knowing that Midori-chan will recognise the signal.

Todoroki-chan stops at the top step where the ice ends, peering down at the stuff he's treading on.

He realises just a moment too late, and she strikes.

Her tongue-sling is sloppily-aimed under the extra layers and the cold air, so the sack impacts between his shoulder blades, rather than the back of his head as she was aiming for. Still, it does the job, and he collapses onto his hands and knees, shielding the unmasked half of his face as the sack explodes into a cloud of fine brown dust.

She leaps in close and loops her tongue around his arm to drag him further off-balance, but he quickly encases it in a layer of ice and she's forced to let go before they're stuck together.

Wrong arm, she chides, rolling her cold tongue around in her mouth. Aim for the one covered in the tacky fake ice.

Todoroki-chan stares, picking himself off the ground and wrenching his right arm free from his ice. His mouth twitches down into slightly more of a scowl, and that's the only warning Tsu gets before ice bursts from his right side and-

crumbles.

The structure falls in on itself even as he builds it, and by the time it reaches her, it's little more than slush, crackling angrily in the sudden, shocked silence.

It... worked. It worked!

Catching herself staring, Tsu flips the switch on her heater and ribbits with newfound vigor as the heat washes over her, loosening her stiff joints. Todoroki-chan tries again with the deepest scowl she's seen from him yet, but the dust in the air stops the ice from forming properly, and once again it breaks down into a quickly-melting slurry.

She leaps a little clumsily to the side, Todoroki-chan tracing her movements with his right arm.

"What is this?" he growls, as his third attack collapses wetly to the floor.

She says, "A frog."

Her tongue strikes true this time, swinging around Todoroki-chan's left wrist as his incredulous anger leaves him stunned. Unable to set it alight through his costume, he tries to reach over and freeze it instead, but she hops up to the ceiling and allows him to dangle, bouncing him up and down to dislodge him when he tries to reach up anyway.

"Mi'ori-cha'm," she tries to say around her tongue into the earpiece. "I nee' backu'!"

As if summoned, Midori-chan barrels around the corner from downstairs, something purple and white loosely dangling in his arms. He's only a few steps away when she recognises it as a capture tape with one of Mineta-chan's orbs attached to one end.

"Young Todoroki has been captured!"

Izuku drops his hands onto his knees as Froppy - now short several layers of clothes to free up her movements a bit - sets Peppermint down in a dry corner, three limbs handily wrapped in the capture tape and his left arm pinned to his side by Grapes' sticky orb. Peppermint, for his part, scowls mildly - but maybe that's just how his face looks.

"Grapes got away," Izuku pants, chest burning. What he wouldn't give to be Izumi right now... "He kept sticking me with traps, I could store them but they kept slowing me down. I was looking for him for ages!"

Tsu nods, glancing upwards at a quiet metallic clanging sound. "And the bomb?"

"Still on the top floor, I held Grapes off- so he came in on the third floor," he gasps. "Ugh, I think I hate stairs now. We still need to-" The clanging grows louder, and Izuku groans. "He's in the vents!"

"Midori-chan, he heard us. We need to stop him."

Froppy spots him first, apparently, by simple virtue of being faster than Izuku. There's a metallic clatter and a high-pitched scream from around the corner, then a whump and an oof.

When Izuku rounds the corner, it's to see Froppy anchored to the ground by her tongue, Grapes making a flying leap with a gleeful warcry and an orb in each hand.

One orb barely scrapes Froppy's gloved hand and sticks fast, and Grapes slam-dunks it downwards, pinning her belly-up with her legs bent awkwardly behind her.

The other orb sticks to the floor and Grapes rebounds deftly off of it, landing heavily on Froppy's stomach. She wheezes with the impact.

Froppy's and Grapes' eyes meet.

"Paradise," Grapes murmurs reverently. Froppy flushes.

Uh... this situation is weird.

This is weird, right?

The moment is broken when All Might announces Froppy captured, and Izuku's eyes snap to Grapes.

Izuku will treasure the little 'eep!' that spills out of Grapes' mouth for a very long time.

Oh no! Oh God!

HE'S A DEMON!

Minoru sticks the inside-corner wall with a ball and swings off it, dropping another one under his foot to double as a trap later. That should slow him down, right?!

He glances back in a moment of weakness and trips on nothing, just in time to watch the massive, bulky form of Midoriya perform the exact same swing.

"Oh crap!" Minoru whimpers aloud as Midoriya stores the ball in his crazy-OP quirk, freeing himself from its grasp. With the momentum he had, the demon flies directly over him-

Reflex finds a ball hurtling to intercept Midoriya's flight path, and Minoru knows before it happens that he'll be stuck.

…but he also knows it won't be for long.

Midoriya's foot catches, and Minoru is out of there! Forget looking badass and making the chicks swoon, right now Minoru's just gonna run like a bitch!

He hears an almost-worrying snap from behind him, but screw that noise, he's not taking the bait this time! Recovery Girl can deal!

Panting and praying for his continued existence, Minoru breaks down the next vent-cover he sees and swings inside. He'll search for the bomb from in here. It's somewhere on the top floor, he knows that much from spying, and he's got plenty of time to search.

But 'plenty of time' will pass, and he won't find it.

"-who was the MVP for this match?" All Might is asking as Izuku limps in, supported by Froppy and a scowling - that must just be his resting face - Peppermint. "Yes, young Yaoyorozu?"

Izuku can't see who's talking over the gaggle of people who wave to them as they stumble through the door, Grapes dejectedly scuffing up the floor as he sculks in behind them, but they keep it quiet so everyone hears what the speaker has to say:

"It was Midoriya-san," they say conscisely. "He set up the plan to neutralise Todoroki-san's quirk with road grit, including testing out different levels of coarseness, and asked me to provide him with some before the match began - with your candid permission, of course-"

"Of course!" All Might beams.

"And-"

"It is always important to… use all the resources you have available to-to you." He flushes in embarrassment, coughing gently into his hand. "Ah, you were… still talking. Sorry."

"…Midoriya also circled the bomb back to the entrance where the Hero team had already searched, using Mineta-san's quirk to stick it to the ceiling-"

The three other students in the exercise turn, astonished, to Izuku, and his face heats up.

"-and then kept this information to himself, preventing the Hero team from discerning its true location.

The other participants were each effective in their own roles, but Todoroki-san was overly-assured in his own power, Mineta-san allowed himself to be led astray by bad intel, and despite her skilled takedown of Todoroki-san, Asui-san-"

Froppy says something under her breath that Izuku can't hear.

"-became hasty and allowed herself to be captured. Overall, Midoriya-san went above and beyond to guarantee his team the win, so he was the MVP."

It's funny though. For all that the Villain team dominated, thanks in large part to Izuku… this doesn't feel like much of a win to them.

Izuku picks at the sleeve of their blue hero costume.

They just feel dissatisfied.

Chapter Text

Well, dissatisfaction isn’t all they’re feeling.

“It’s probably broken,” Froppy says without much inflection, when Izuku steps on his damaged leg a little too hard and hisses in pain. “Let us take most of your weight.”

Peppermint nods in silent agreement, and Izuku resigns himself to being half-supported, half-carried down to the infirmary, readjusting his grip on their shoulders to placate them both.

“Man though, that was terrifying ,” Grapes breaks the silence, slipping ahead to capture their focus. “Like I was an actual villain getting chased down… by I dunno, Ingenium or something! You just wouldn’t stop!”

Izuku can’t help a bashful smile. Still though… Grapes’ delay tactic would’ve worked really well if it actually was Ingenium who was after him - since his quirk outputs force directly from his engine arms, he has a high centre of thrust unlike Angles so he’s very susceptible-

Angles is Ingenium’s brother?

-very susceptible to unexpected obstacles. He’s pretty good at avoiding them and has only gotten better in the past months, but with how well Grapes uses his orbs, and the sheer number he used during the side-to-side steps test on the first day, he’d have about an even shot of sticking Ingenium…

Quirk-wise, it’s a very unbalanced matchup in Grapes’ favor, but Ingenium’s experience would tip it in his favor right now.

When Izuku’s thoughts turn back to the outside world, it’s strangely quiet, until-

“That was an adventure ,” Grapes boggles. “You can really just pull that analysis stuff outta nowhere, huh?”

“Ingenium’s brother is the one with the glasses, isn’t he?” says a new voice, derailing the conversation. Izuku turns in surprise to Peppermint still half-clad in fake ice, his barest hint of interest the most expression Izuku has yet seen from him.

Blinking in confusion, Izuku nods.

“…I knew it,” Peppermint says under his breath.

Chiyo has had a lot of common visitors over the years.

The ones who volunteer to take their peers to her. The ones who want to skip the end of class. The ones who are just clumsy or nervous for their own wellbeing.

…But really, now.

“I have the feeling I’ll be seeing a lot of you, young man,” is the second thing to come out of Chiyo’s mouth after a beleaguered sigh. She tuts when she sees how Midoriya is being held up. “Another foot injury?” she asks the room at large. “At this rate the boy will be fighting crime from a wheelchair.”

“Uh, that was my fault!” the small one admits sheepishly. “I stuck his foot to the floor.”

Mineta Minoru, is that correct? She vaguely remembers someone like that from flicking through the Hero course students, but something doesn’t want to click. A poor photo, perhaps? “Well see that you work on that a little, won’t you, sonny?” she tells him sternly. “It might not be as flashy as a punch or a burn, but remember that a sprained ankle can have just as many complications.”

“Y-Yes ma’am!” the small one cries, oddly giddy in the face of her scolding.

Chiyo tuts again, scanning the taller two for injuries. Their names come easily, quirks especially problematic among this year’s batch of hero students.

Asui Tsuyu is holding her free arm a little gingerly, but it’s nothing that warrants attention given that she was helping to carry Midoriya, and Chiyo needs more tests to be certain that healing her is safe regardless.

(Honestly, it’s just like Toshinori to conduct a practical exercise before the groundwork is fully in place. He may be a true savant in heroics, but he is utterly incapable when it comes to due process. She’ll have to smack him upside the head the next time she sees him.)

Todoroki Shouto’s right sleeve is half damp and half frosted over, but the boy himself seems uninjured besides perhaps some aching joints.

“Well, then,” Chiyo says to herself, guiding Midoriya onto the bed so she can unlace his supportive boot and gently pry it away. The foot underneath appears a little swollen, but clearly the boot did its job, so it isn’t as bad as she would usually expect from the violent fall described.

“Are you able to move your toes and ankle?” She asks. Midoriya experimentally wiggles his toes, then makes a slow arc with his foot, not even wincing at what she knows from experience must be quite painful. “Excellent. None of your bones or ligaments appear damaged, so…”

Her lips extend to plant a kiss him on the leg, and as the injury sinks away, Midoriya wonders aloud how much force she could put behind the action.

“I could puncture steel in my prime,” she says offhandedly. Not many people realise that she straddled the line between rescue and combat roles before her time working for UA.

“Oh, that’s hot,” Mineta murmurs, earning himself four simultaneous sidelong glances. “ What? ” he cries, puffing himself up, “have you seen her in her prime? You’d be thinking the same thing too! You guys just wouldn’t be man enough to say it!”

Asui gives the boy the most judgemental look Chiyo can imagine on a froglike face. “Not out-loud, in front of her, forty years later,” she deadpans.

Her reward is a rap on the head. “My prime wasn’t that long ago, dearie,” Chiyo huffs. Honestly, the nerve of some children. “Now you three run along. I’ll keep Midoriya a little longer, but,” she glances over him where he’s captured in a murmured tangent about Chiyo’s quirk, “he seems energetic enough to rejoin the class soon enough.”

She waves them off and returns to the boy, who still doesn’t surface from his thoughts as she begins to run his ankle through gentle exercises.

Yes, she will become very familiar with Midoriya in time.

The rest of the day passes in a dull haze, everyone still heeding yesterday’s reality check and too preoccupied with first-week setup to interact much in class, and Izuku leaves UA itching unpleasantly in their own skin.

They switch to Izumi the moment they leave line-of-sight of the gates, with a relieved sigh at loose joints and untapped energy. Maybe it’s the new environment - maybe it’s their two forms drifting further apart in look and feel - but they’re having more trouble keeping themself locked into one body than they ever did in middle school.

They switch a few more times on their way home, to shake off the lingering residue of constraint.

And… actually, why head home so soon? Sure, they left UA too quickly to join any of their new friends (and if they can’t be Izumi around them, maybe that’s for the best for now), but surely they can go for a run, ri-?

-Isn’t now the perfect time to be Mx-Up?

Surely,

surely this time it’ll work out.

Well it kinda worked out last time, too, but… that didn’t really make them feel like much of a vigilante. Which is fine! They want to go legal eventually anyways, that’s the whole point of this, just-

Did they even really do anything?

She shakes out her arms. This time’ll be better. This time won’t leave them exhausted tomorrow, won’t interfere with their schoolwork, won’t get them almost caught by Mom.

…Why didn’t they think of this before?

Really, they just walked around town for the afternoon.

Beyond a few glances at the inconclusively-gendered teenager wearing head-to-toe black - easily attributed to the needs of a weird quirk - Izumi found nothing of note. This is how they imagine it’ll usually go, too; both hero and vigilante patrols are more preventative than reactive, and without cantacts to call them in, a vigilante’s life is bound to be less full of headline-toppers-

Contacts.

Izumi ducks into a nearby alley and pulls out Mx-Up’s burner phone. They have a couple contacts now, don’t they?

Hesitantly, they select Snake Lady’s contact number and hit call.

It rings seven times, and Izumi’s beginning to sweat when it finally picks up with several rushing bursts of sound from the speaker.

“Ah, shit!” comes Snake Lady’s voice a moment later. “Cracked the damn hinge, I knew I should’ve gotten a brick… Hey! How’s it going, Mx-Up?”

“No crime to fight,” Izumi bemoans, sounding stupid to her own ears. “I’m gonna try and build up some kinda support system, right now you’re the best I’ve got.”

“‘Best you’ve got?’ Rude-ass- No, I’m kidding, you’re good,” she hurriedly backpedals when Izumi tries to apologise. “Listen, I thought it through after, and I really owe you one for last time, right? Plenty crime around here too, I hear a lotta crap about it. I can tip you off to a few things now and then, if that sounds good?”

And that’s-

Better than they imagined when they thought this up.

“Um, yeah that’s great! You’re living in Kamino, right?”

“Yeah, you know the other guy? Turns out he used to live just down the street as a kid, shocked the hell outta both of us when he realised but we’re planning to- Huh?”

Snake Lady seems to pull away from the phone, voice muffled for a couple moments. “Oh fuck, yeah you’re right,” she says to someone else, then to Izumi, “Yeah, you don’t wanna come around here just yet. There is some MAJOR shit going down, crime’s dropped a ton and a buncha vigilantes and villains are just fucking vanishing. Cops are predicting something Endeavor -level big.”

Izumi lets out a disappointed sigh. “It’s… probably for the best if I stay away then.” Not that patrolling Kamino is really an option, so far from home, but maybe if they get a tip about it, they could head there every so often. “Alright, I’m gonna check on-“ Victim- “the other guy.”

“Cool, tell him I said hi! Ciao ciao!”

Victim agrees, maybe not as easily as Snake Lady, but he’s living in Musutafu right now so it’s well worth enduring his lectures about how Izumi must be pretty young and it’s stupid as hell to play vigilante.

He also has some very choice words for Snake Lady…

“-gonna tell that idiot what’s up,” he grumbles to himself, coming down from his tirade. “Dumbass enabling dumbass, that’s what this is.”

Izumi counts it as a win though, and they head back home with a grin on their face.

Next time they fight crime as Izumi, they’ll actually have crime to fight.

As they’ll soon find out? That’s a little too correct.

Chapter Text

The class tenses up when Aizawa-sensei gears up for another announcement, and Izuku finds himself doing the same.

After the quirk apprehension test nearly got him expelled on the first day, and the stress of pushing through reporters just to make it into school these past few mornings, they don’t know if they can handle an announcement of the calibre that they’re expecting-

“-class presidents,” Aizawa-sensei finishes boredly.

Oh.

That’s not so bad. And the rest of the class seems to have the same sentiment, if a little more… enthusiastic.

“Ooh! Pick me, pick me!”

“I’m up for it, you guys know I am!”

“I’m the best suited! Pick me, damnit!”

“I’ll make it so all female students’ skirts go high above the knee!” Grapes cries, garnering dirty looks from Froppy and Earplugs, and what the heck ? Izuku likes Grapes so far, but that…

Was it just a bad joke? But he seemed almost desperate to say it. In what world would that get him elected?

“Silence, please!” Angles finally calls, and he garners it so easily that Izuku can’t help but be impressed - though perhaps that’s the influence of Aizawa-sensei’s methods. “I was taught that leadership is not just for those who want it. It is a calling meant for those who have earned the trust of those around them!”

From there the class changes gear: A democratic election, as Angles puts it. Everyone votes for someone, people can vote themselves, and whoever has the most and second-most votes become president and vice-president respectively.

Izuku gazes around the classroom, wondering who they should vote for. Angles took charge of the situation well enough, but they’re a little worried about his willingness to jump to conclusions and overall prickly demeanor, with all respect to his dedication, and they can’t imagine most of the class feels much differently.

Creator? They’re pretty sure they remember her voice as the one breaking down Izuku and Froppy’s fight against Grapes and Peppermint… what did All Might call her again? She seems like a good, level-headed choice, but Izuku doesn’t have much to go off.

Nice Girl’s nice, but in more of a bantering, friendly way than how they imagine a class president would be. They’d need to be someone who’s approachable for the shier members of the class, right? And that probably means someone less likely to tease people, even in good faith…

Katsuki they’re gonna skip right over after that revelation, for what they hope are obvious reasons.

Their eyes come to rest on a head of hair, similarly green to their own but much sleeker. Froppy’s a good choice! She’s calm and rational, approachable even to Sound of Silence (and just what kind of nickname is that?), takes concerns seriously, is likely to consider treat quirks equally thanks to her own experience having a froglike mutant-type quirk, and they already know she’s a very open-minded person after chatting with her on the-

Izuku bites their tongue clamping their mouth shut as they realise they were muttering, and they jot down Froppy’s name before they can spill anything else they shouldn’t.

Is everyone a little quiet-? No, as soon as they have the thought, the class fades back into its usual dull roar, this time underlaid with the scratches of pencil and eraser.

And they win.

But…

Do they really, though? Is this winning? Is being made class president really a victory?

“Don’t be a dumbass,” Kacchan grouses, glaring from the desk ahead with only a large fraction of his usual murderous intent. “‘Course it fucking is. If you can’t pussy up and deal with it, Froppy over there gets president and we’ve gotta do this shit again for vice, so fucking accept it.”

Izuku scratches a reddening cheek. They thought he’d go straight to putting Izuku down for daring to get ahead again, but that was almost encouraging!

And he’s right, too, because the score is so lopsided that Izuku and a name they think belongs to Froppy are the only two with multiple votes, and half the class have none at all…

That doesn’t make sense though, does it?

“Uh, yeah it does, Midoriya!” Shocker calls with a grin, and wow but they need to deal with this muttering habit!

“But-“ they probably won’t even be in 1-A after the Sports Festival- “I haven’t even learned your names! I mean I wrote down my choice as Froppy !”

(At the front of the room Angles freezes, peers at a slip of paper that he’s put into its own stack, then transfers it to a bigger pile and adds a fifth tally under Froppy’s name.)

“That just makes it manlier,” a boy with sharklike teeth and scarlet hair grins widely. “You don’t even know us but I see you helping out everywhere!”

“Yeah dude, you’re pretty cool, honestly,” Earplugs says. “Better than some idiots in this class at least.”

“Hey!” comes Shocker’s indignant voice.

Froppy nods.“Midori-chan, I always say what’s on my mind. It’s early, but you’re already the glue that holds us together, ribbit.”

Izuku balks. “It’s been less than a week though!”

The one with the tape quirk shrugs, unconcerned.“Eh, superglue takes like a couple minutes to set,” he says, others nodding along. Izuku files away his apparent knowledge of adhesives; maybe he could help identify- “The whole thing on day 1 kinda sealed your fate.”

Izuku sighs, putting their head in their hands. Well, if seven people decided they were right for the job, who are they, really, to argue?

“But seven? ” Izuku asks the table at large.

“You made a good first impression,” Froppy croaks. “You’re the reason I was chosen, too, ribbit; the entire class trusts your word already, and we’re still in the first week. Also, your food will go cold if you don’t-“

Izuku shoves a bit of everything in his mouth and promptly inhales half of the cabbage. “But seven ,” he repeats helplessly around his coughs. “I still don’t know your names!”

“Well why don’t we do introductions?” Creator suggests brightly, between mouthfuls from her piled-on bowl of rice. “My name is , it’s very nice to meet you.”

Izuku blinks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” he says.

“Y,” Creator repeats.

Her smile slowly turns concerned as he shows no recognition.

Grapes, Froppy and Silence stare at him in various states of worry.

“Yao-,” Creator repeats, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yao…“ And that’s as far as Izuku’s brain wants to take him before the name slips away like it was never there to begin with. He struggles with the first syllable but then realises that he doesn’t know it anymore. “I had it, I swear I had it-“

“Midori-chan,” Froppy cuts off his growing panic. “You read my name off the board, didn’t you.”

Yeah they did, she got four points and then Angles added Izuku’s to the tally when he realised the nickname, and Froppy said her name during the heroes vs villains exercise, they’re sure of it and she must have mentioned Grapes and Peppermint’s names too, but-

They don’t remember.

“I don’t remember any of it,” he murmurs hollowly.

Their name is Midoriya Izuku. The other is Midoriya Izumi, Mom is Midoriya Inko. Kacchan is Bakugo Katsuki, Auntie is Bakugo Mitsuki, Uncle is Bakugo Masaru.

But Froppy? Nice Girl? Grapes? Peppermint?

They don’t remember.

It takes them too long to realise that the ringing in their ears is the UA alarm. By the time they do, everything is already over.

But they still can’t focus on it, how Froppy and Grapes - those aren’t their names! - how they buffered Izuku from the rampaging crowds. How Creator - stop calling her that! - helped muffle the noise with a pair of ear defenders, suggested through gesture by Silence - stop it!

Why wouldn’t they remember their own friends’ names?!

Did they hit their head or something? Are they ill? Dying? Brain trauma that could accomplish this kind of effect would be life-threatening, surely? But they feel fine enough besides the justified panic and the usual anxiety, and they don’t remember hitting their head but maybe that’s because they hit their head…

Dimly, they notice Froppy’s hand around their wrist, and they force themselves to focus on the feeling of her fingers, longer than most, likely a- stop spiralling.

Calm down.

Izuku lifts their head to their new friends, trying not to think about how they don’t know any of their names, and Creator, Silence and Grapes all return the look with their own worry and unease. Froppy, though, gives Izuku a froggy smile, and they immediately know that they made the right choice in suggesting her as vice-president.

He gives her a shaky smile, and her own brightens a little.

“We can head to the nurse’s office together once things have died down a little, if you’d like?”Creator offers, but Izuku shakes his head after a moment’s thought.

“W-Whatever’s going on has been happening since before UA,” he reasons nervously, “otherwise I’d remember Nice Girl’s name. And my quirk’s mental-based, so maybe…” he trails off dubiously. “Maybe I just need to figure something out?”

It isn’t exactly a settling thought for any of them, but the others accept it easily enough, though Froppy continues to stare thoughtfully through Izuku as they all finish up their lunches.

(“But wait,” Grapes asks suddenly on the walk back to class, “how come you remember Aizawa-sensei’s name? Or your own nicknames for us?

Izuku doesn’t have an answer.)

Izuku can’t concentrate for Midnight-sensei’s lectures, or on the sharp tongue she points their way, or on how their classmates jump to defend them.

They can’t focus on her apology or her recommendation to visit Hound Dog-sensei if they feel they need it.

On the way home, the world dissolves away between blinks and they come to already opening their front door. They don’t know if mom greets Izuku or Izumi, or how long they stay downstairs talking with her before they numbly climb upstairs.

The day ends short, but they still feel stretched thin.

Izuku wakes up disoriented and dulled the next morning.

They gaze into bagged eyes through the mirror, barely noticing the pitch-dark hair that usually catches them so off-guard. They eat breakfast in spiralling silence as mom stares at them with worried eyes that just remind them of yesterday’s lunch. They take a clean change of clothes for Izuku, but they can’t see the point in dressing Izumi today…

…They know they should know their friends’ names by now, they reflect as they set out for school, dimly aware of their path crossing Katsuki’s. They know they’ve heard them all. They remember the moments that they should have heard those names, but it’s like something’s stopping them from recalling the names themselves.

Like something’s blocking them.

Is it some aspect of their quirk, after all? They said something to that effect yesterday, but that was to justify not wanting to see Recovery Girl again after already weathering her disapproving looks. But maybe they were right?

To properly learn things like that, maybe Izuku needs to ‘learn’ them as Izumi too? But then why was Aizawa-sensei among the people whose names they learned? All Might is Yagi-san (Yagi-sensei now?) but why do they remember that when they only learned it as Izuku?

So that isn’t it.

Maybe it’s… some kind of backlash, then. Some consequence of overusing their brain catching up to them. Since the entrance exam, they’ve pushed the limits of their quirk, storing and unstoring more different things than ever before, especially without switching forms… spending longer periods as Izuku during school, and then longer periods as Izumi in their off-time.

That itching, uncomfortable sensation creeping at the end of the school day… maybe that’s a sign that things aren’t working how they are now.

Izumi catches a glimpse of her bobbing hair, still greenish where Izuku’s is black now, and their resolve begins to falter. It’s been working, hasn’t it? If they keep their identities separate, they can keep being Mx-Up, stay friends with Kacchan, work towards being a hero in the legal way if that’s even still possible and…

And…

They can’t quantify it, but something leaves them uneasy.

And…

And…?

Ochako has been avoiding Dekiru-kun.

It’s nothing! Nothing important, really! It’s silly!

She just… wants some time to think. That’s all! They’re really good friends already after all, they worked great together in the entrance exam, and she wants to keep that partnership!

But now… when she sees his face, she’s taken back to that moment that he said something super smart, not his fault at all and her blood froze and she just… shut down like a moron.

And really, what’s the big deal? People learn that their quirks are different than they thought all the time! Float vs Assistive Telekinesis, it’s not that huge!

Or it shouldn’t be… and that’s why she’s staying away for the moment. She can’t let herself blame him for Not a Big Deal. That’s not fair on him!

Iida-kun says it’ll only make things worse in the long run, staying away like that… he’s been trying to encourage her to ‘convey [her] thoughts clearly and concisely to avoid any doubt borne of miscommunication!’. But she doesn’t know if Dekiru-kun even noticed she was gone with everything that’s been happening, especially the whole thing in Midnight-sensei’s class, so it’s fine!

She catches a glimpse of pitch-black hair filing into the coach (it doesn’t fit him quite as well as the green, but she didn’t want to say anything!) and turns away, her bright smile tasting a little false now.

It’s just a few more days, and then she’ll get over it and they’ll laugh about it over lunch at a big table with all their other friends too.

…Right?

Chapter Text

Okay, look, Naomasa-kun.

He was just heading to UA - by foot in his true form, as has become his norm during the past few weeks working at UA - when traffic was interrupted by a villain attack.

It’s just some no-name thief, barely even a street-level punk. Toshinori doesn’t have the time to double back and then re-enter the scene as All Might, he should just leave it to the local heroes. Molten and Hair-raiser are always active during morning rush hour, aren’t they?

But he can’t see them around.

The villain barrels southbound down the road with the police on her trail, towards where Toshinori is speedwalking, dragging nearby plastic trash into amalgamate gauntlets… or actually, fully functioning gorilla-proportioned arms and hands that she uses to leap four-limbed between cars, leaving scratches and splatters of old food on the roofs.

On her upper arms Toshnori spies several clearly-full carrier bags, as well as a couple handbags that are probably made from polymers. Such an incredible quirk for community service or even heroism, squandered for petty robbery.

It takes him back to the slime villain, the day he met young Midoriya. To her ingenuity, her heroic spirit, her sheer competence . Juicing potential from every detail, in action, speech or writing, all in service of those around her.

And maybe that’s why Toshinori - not All Might, but Toshinori - sticks out his neck in just the way that he does.

One smooth, gentle swinging motion, half practiced and half instinct with an open palm that corrals the air into a crackling, formless weapon.

And that’s all it takes.

The outer layers of waste shatter apart into loose leaves, some water cooler bottles peeling open into five-petalled plastic flowers. The remainder of the gauntlets fall apart and scatter in the breeze, leaving the villain’s actual arms underneath, struggling to hold onto her spoils now that her concentration’s shot. The villain is left dazed and disoriented by the blast, as a lot of people with telekinesis quirks are when their targets get disrupted like that.

She tumbles from the car like a ragdoll, falling safely into the pile of empty bottles and fast food containers Toshinori created, and he knows that she’ll be detained shortly.

His arms sting with phantom cuts - he let the power run a little too wild. But for his first time using One For All this way in an actual villain fight, he’s pretty proud of how that turned out!

And then his eyes fall back on the police.

Aw,

Shit! His only hero license is for his All Might persona! How the hell’s he gonna explain this to the police force?

Well.

He isn’t .

He’s a hero! It’s entirely legal for him to perform hero work with a license, and he has one! Sure, if he doesn’t want to show it when asked, they can arrest him, but it won’t even make it to court once his file is found on the HPSC system.

Which is censored and wouldn’t out him as All Might… but it would make him late for work. So Toshinori does the smart thing and makes himself scarce.

He should probably get an extra hero license that covers his civilian identity now, huh?

…And that’s what he’ll tell Naomasa-kun this afternoon at their favorite coffee place. They’ll have a laugh about it, Naomasa-kun will be saved a couple sheets of vigilantism-flavored paperwork, and they’ll check out that walk by the river that Toshinori’s been seeing from his leaps over the city.

It’ll be great!

But maybe he spies another couple of crimes underway, a few people in need, and as much as he can’t say I Am Here today, he can at least keep them safe…

…This is an unexpected spike of crime. Four incidents, on the quickest route to U.A. from his apartment that really isn’t all that distant?  He’s become so used to Musutafu’s low rates, he almost forgot the whispers between UA staff of how that isn’t the norm, but are things really picking back up so suddenly?

The thought picks at him. Why so suddenly?

He’d wager that Molten and Hair-raiser have been called in already. They would have called Argantuan in for backup, and maybe he called their sister agencies too. But Toshinori hasn’t seen them, only the police, which means…

…Toshinori hasn’t just been getting unlucky. It must be like this all over Musutafu.

-Crap, he’s gonna be late for U.A.! And that means late for the USJ!

I-It’ll be fine. The other teachers are more experienced than him. He hates to put the pressure on them, but they’re far more adaptive to class schedule disruptions than he is; they can handle it.

He’ll text Aizawa-kun now. He’ll pass his suspicion of a greater threat in Musutafu off to Nedzu when he reaches the school, and then he’ll bulk up and make it there in time to supervise some activities. Aizawa-kun and Thirteen-kun will be fine until he arrives.

Tsu is worried.

She isn’t certain why.

Her Frog quirk doesn’t give her much in the way of enhanced senses - her skin is very slightly damp, which makes her a little more sensitive to storms and winds, and that’s about the extent of it.

But she’s observant, intuitive, when it comes to people. And things are just slightly off-kilter in ways that she isn’t quite sure she isn’t imagining.

Midori-chan stares out the window, the shellshock of yesterday still painted in his glazed expression, but in a different shade of worry that she can’t exactly place.

Tsu wonders after his masculine presentation; she knows that Half-Might feels a different gender depending on somewhat concrete circumstances (which they shruggingly dubbed ‘gender-adaptive’ instead of genderfluid), but she doesn’t see any of that in Midori-chan. Not to mention that he’s going solely by he/him in class, when she knows that isn’t the case online.

It’s almost like a mask - Midori-chan isn’t quite the same as the Half-Might she’s come to know.

Everyone who was with him for lunch yesterday glances worriedly after him, and so do several of the classmates he’s interacted with in other ways, who can tell already that something is wrong.

That might explain the coach’s overall sullen mood - Midori-chan has already endeared himself to most of them, and seeing him in such low spirits might be getting to them.

But that isn’t the end of the strangely offset atmosphere.

Uraraka-chan sits next to Iida-chan near the front of the bus, barely receptive to his earnest conversation and eager chopping motions as she draws cutesy shapes on the dewy window.

Pings sound randomly, moods obviously falling as Tsu’s classmates read through their notifications. Friends share the news with nearby friends, whose moods fall in turn.

“Ah damn, my apartment complex got hit!” someone cries. Villain attacks?

In the seat ahead, Bakugo-chan mutters under his breath about someone who missed his plans yesterday, and the growl of ‘Rucksack Bitch’ is almost enough to startle a croaky laugh out of her, if it weren’t for the dour air.

As they begin to near their destination, Aizawa-sensei reads a notification on his own phone and rubs his eyes tiredly. Does that have something to do with All Might not being here?

Several seats ahead, Kaminari-chan suddenly shivers, and just a moment later Tsuyu feels something strange pass over her as more classmates perk up. Shouji-chan, Jirou-chan and Kouda-chan are already looking out the window, soon joined by the rest of the class, as the gigantic dome of the USJ rolls steadily into view.

“It really is Universal Studios Japan!” Ashido-chan grins, and finally the tension in the air begins to show cracks.

Uraraka-chan recovers a bit of pep as she wipes the dew away to see better, boggling at the scale of it all. “And Thirteen-sensei will be there,” she remembers suddenly, eyes truly lighting up now.

Bakugou-chan huffs when he lays sight on the dome and his face goes from angry to bored, which she thinks actually means ‘interested’.

Even Midori-chan perks up a little, ill eyes brightening somewhat. Yaomomo-chan finally manages to capture his attention, and they quietly chat about the rescue training they’ll be doing - though Tsu sees the lingering concern in her eyes, unable to do more than distract him from his thoughts.

Not soon enough, the bus has parked, and they’re taking their first collective step into the USJ.

Izuku’s finally beginning to filter out their doubt by the time they all come off the coach. As worrying as everything is, Creator’s right - rescue training is an important part of becoming a hero, so they need to be properly focussed for it.

He sets his jaw into something approximating a smile, determined to set aside their worries for today, to take Thirteen-sensei’s lecture seriously and encourage the class to do the same. His lungs catch the gentle, vented breeze.

They’re the class president, aren’t they? They should be acting like it.

Froppy gives Izuku an unreadable look, and he returns with a smile that has her relaxing just a little. Grapes is ogling Thirteen, murmuring under his breath about what must be under their suit, and Froppy whaps him on the cheek with her tongue, eliciting a yelp that makes her chuckle croakily.

They crest the edge of the gigantic entrance platform, all of USJ lain out before them. It really does look like a themepark-meets-disaster-movie; recursive domes encase what might be the more dangerous zones, which is a little scary to think about when gigantic landslides, building collapses and an indoor lake complete with a water slide adapted for full-sized ships dominate every other corner of the landscape.

And that purple haze in the centre…

“Has a disaster already started?” Izuku asks aloud, and Aizawa-sensei whips around to follow his gaze just as the haze begins to coalesce into a solid black, whirling vertex that walls off the entire back half of the central plaza.

“Yeah,” the student with the hardening quirk agrees as bodies start to separate from the mist, “this has gotta be like the entrance exam, right?”

“Stay back!” Aizawa-sensei barks, stuttering Izuku’s half-step forwards. “Those are villains!”

And on a second glance, Izuku recognises some of them; several from news reports, and even a couple from hero fights they watched in person.

But what are they doing here?

It doesn’t-

Izuku’s eyes catch the villain in front, covered in disembodied hands and flanked by a gigantic person with what looks like a bird mutation and- is that an exposed brain -?!

He tears his eyes away from them. The image stays in his head.

-It doesn’t matter. “We need to leave!” he calls, and a cry of assent ripples through the class.

Aizawa-sensei- Eraserhead makes to meet the villains halfway, capture scarf fluttering in an unseen breeze, but Izuku catches his arm on instinct. “Sensei, they have a warp quirk! They might try to warp more villains close to us!”

Their teacher seems to reconsider, then he nods and turns to keep guarding the rest of the class. “Cover the stairs,” he calls to Thirteen, who spreads their fingers, latches snapping open to prepare their quirk.

Then before Izuku can even process, the purple-black mist has ascended to the entry platform, releasing a dozen villains in close-quarters. Eraserhead doesn’t fall for the trick though, training his eyes on the humanoid form taken by one particular vortex, as he and the class make short work of the villains.

But the eyes trailing from that misty figure aren’t pointed towards Eraserhead.

“You are a clever one,” the warper says in a smooth baritone, unconcerned by Eraserhead’s crimson gaze as he bears down on Izuku. “We, the League of Villains, are here to kill All Might. But I’m afraid you’ve made yourself a secondary target. Be scattered and fall to ashes, now.”

Izuku braces, knowing the calm is a short one, even as Kacchan leaps towards the warper, fighting through the few villains left standing and rocketing up overhead. The instant that Eraserhead blinks-

Now!

The first portal Izuku skips over, fighting the urge to switch to Izumi. The second opens straight into his path and he dredges up half a UA robot, slamming both hands against it, sending it tumbling into the abyss in his own place, but he just knows that the third is coming directly beneath him now and as Izuku he can’t move in time-!

Oof! Two bodies tackle him off his feet, knocking the wind out of him, but the warp gate now resting below them curves upwards on every side,

to engulf them all in an inescapable event horizon.

The freefall is unlike anything Izuku’s experienced before. It’s only a moment of sensory relief - total darkness, total silence, arms wrapped around his torso the only sign of anything else in the world - but it strangely brings them calm.

And then it’s a little more than a moment.

This is a warp quirk, isn’t it? Should it be taking so long to warp them, or…

Izuku extracts an arm from the blind tangle of limbs and experimentally places it on one of the four arms wrapped around him, following it up to the shoulder - closer than they’d expect; that must be Grapes - where he taps four times and then twice: H-I.

Grapes taps three times back, then three times slower, and three times quicker again.

S-O-S.

The darkness is starting to feel less welcoming.

Swallowing heavily, Izuku spreads his arms outwards, imagining the sphere of mist that they’re trapped inside. They brace for something, anything to go wrong and then-

CRACK.

Deafened, their eyes before shutting as a lancing migr.

That’s.

Whahappening?

Grlost. Somne els to.

Who? WATER

SNAP -OW.

SMOENOE

LOST OSMEOGONE WHERE Quirk

QUIRK SOTHIG BIG TAKE IT PULL-

They try to gasp as thoughts begin to return to them, robot they unstored sinking down, but water - Froppy, wh-

More! Drop more!

Robots drift further into the depths, first two and then five, seven-

Grapes!

They tug at darkness in storage with friends inside still, but then think better. Surface first but their arm erupts in paiOW can’t swim like thiscan’t let them out herejust-

FROPPY!

With a herculean effort, they raise their unhurt arm, envision what they need to happen, and

release.

The cable stretches upwards, piercing the water’s surface, and on the end, an orb of dense fog dissipates to reveal two familiar silhouettes.

Midori-chan seems to dissolve away in Tsu’s fingers, and then for agonising seconds it’s just her and Mineta-chan, falling through nothing for eternity.

S-O-S, Tsu reads from his frantic taps.

She taps her own message into his arm: H-E-R-E.

M-I he says, followed by a long sequence that might be a query, which Tsu translates as “Midoriya?”

G-O-N-

The tap for E becomes a frantic flail to pull Mineta-chan in as the mist finally rolls away into the breeze and they hit the water together, dazed and nauseous. The USJ feels like it’s been rolled like a marble until she can’t tell which way is up, but…

…But this is still the water. It flows past her skin, cool and refreshing as she quickly regains her bearings.

Something catches her eye, a long ribbon slowly sinking deeper. A cable? It doesn’t look like it belongs, and then she remembers the wires that Midori-chan used in his kite on the first day.

It’s probably the same stuff.

She glances to Mineta-chan, who by some miracle is already holding a full breath, eyebrows set in concentration. He points down to the other end of the slowly spiralling cable, where she can spy a speck of teal and red amidst the royal blue depths, and without a second thought she dives.

She catches up with Midori-chan pretty quick, but another blurred figure races her there, sharklike teeth bared in a grin.

“See ya!”

She intercepts with her tongue, wrapping Midori-chan and unceremoniously kicking off the shark villain’s face towards the surface.

“See yaaa…” the villain garbles again as he sinks, taking the loss graciously instead of swimming after them.

“See ya,” she agrees in good humor. That guy seemed fun.

He did try to kill her friend though.

They hit the surface and Tsu whips her tongue out over the nearby ship to carefully deposit a coughing Midori-chan onboard.

Mineta-chan splutters for a moment, hugged close to her side, and his first words after being trapped in a void and then half-drowned are a woozy, “Your boobs are pretty big for a frog’s.”

Mineta-chan does not get the careful treatment.

“Aww Tsu-chan, what was that for?” Mineta-chan whines from by Midori-chan’s side as she hops aboard.

She slaps him with her tongue, a motion that’s quickly becoming familiar. “You’re being a perv,” she tells him bluntly.

“What?! It’s only natural for a man to say stuff like that…” he pouts, rubbing his own cheek where she hit. “You’re cute, after all.”

She gives him up as a lost cause. Face warm, she turns to Midori-chan instead, who has recovered from his coughing fit and is now surveying the area, though his legs are trembling.

“Midori-chan, are you alright?”

He jumps when addressed, spinning to face her but still leaning against the railing. “I… I stored you in my quirk by accident,” he says, face grey and tears welling up, “and then I couldn’t think at all, and- and I didn’t know what would happen, you had limited air in there… Did you go into stasis in there or- could’ve killed you-“

“You didn’t, Midori-chan,” she says, pulling him into a wet hug - avoiding the arm that’s hanging limply by his side, obviously injured. He drags her halfway down to the floor, legs giving out now that his good arm is clutching her instead of supporting himself, and she feels droplets land gently on her shoulder. “We’re here.”

“Yeah!” Mineta-chan cheers, punching the air. “We’re strong! We survived your storage thing fine! And it got us out of that misty guy’s quirk eventually, anyway!”

Midori-chan chuckles wetly, raising his arm to wipe his tears and then flinching when he realises it’s the injured one. He takes a moment to blink and breathe, and then his eyebrows fall into something more determined.

“There’s around ten villains surrounding the boat,” he mutters, and then he’s off. “The Mist villain said they wanted to kill All Might so they have some kind of plan for him and they know our class’s schedule, but they don’t know our quirks or they wouldn’t have sent Froppy here… with Grapes’ balls-“

“Heh,” says Mineta-chan faintly, seconds from a panic attack.

“-we’ll have a good shot at trapping them if we can convince them to group up or churn up the water enough, or we could try to stick them directly and let them catch their own limbs… my broken arm will slow us down unless I-“

He abruptly bites his own tongue, cursing under his breath.

“Here’s the plan,” he says instead.

“I’m getting off this death trap!” Izuku declares, bare feet impacting the side of the ship as he clambers over the railing. “Stay here and die, dumbasses, I don’t give a crap!”

(“…Damn, that’s cold,” the villain with the shark quirk says, amazed. “I don’t even have to feel bad about killing him now.”)

Of course, leaving is easier said than done, and he doesn’t need to fake the way he favors his broken arm as he climbs down, cutting hand- and foot-holds into the side of the ship with their quirk.

Halfway to the surface, he looks down and pales. Six- seven of the villains have already taken the bait, which is the plan but they’re so close now-

He barely leaps to the side in time to avoid a pressurised jet of water that punctures the ship’s hull like as much paper, forming new handholds with both hands and Argh! Half his weight hangs from his bad arm and he swears he can feel the bones jostle inside as he creates new holes with his feet, gritting his teeth until he starts to taste copper.

He spies Froppy and Grapes looking down from above, and then movement from the corner of his eye as the last few villains begin to close in too now that they see their other marks aren’t sneaking off, others readying their aquatic quirks.

Now or never.

He leaps away from the ship over the villains’ heads, but most of them are already swimming that way to catch him when he hits the water.

But he isn’t the only thing falling.

He unstores dozens of Grapes’ orbs in one go, letting them fall as Froppy’s tongue snaps Izuku himself out of the air and back onto the boat. Grapes takes his own flying leap over the half-trapped group, raining down more of the balls with a wail that draws their attention (though maybe that’s not his intent) while Froppy takes Izuku and herself off at an angle and towards shore.

Then Grapes hits the pile, and something shifts. He dances across the island of grumbling villains, hopping deftly between each purple ball, barely even contacting the villains they’re stuck to. Most of them can’t so much as swipe at him with their stuck-fast limbs, and the few who can, he approaches from behind, stomping arms and legs into his adhesive spheres before they can properly track him.

By the time he springboards gleefully off the last orb and into Froppy’s waiting arms, all that’s left of the villains is a groaning mass of tangled bodies and curse words, drifting aimlessly in lazy circles.

“That was really cool, Mineta-chan,” Froppy compliments in her usual nonchalance as she swims them towards shore. Mineta-chan lights up at the praise, unbothered for the moment by the bleeding from his scalp, and Izuku can’t help but smile at his joy. “You too, Midori-chan.”

Izuku’s arm throbs uncomfortably. “I think we were all really cool,” he grins, trying not to let it bleed into his voice. “We work great as a team!”

(The aquatic villains stop struggling quickly, once it becomes clear how screwed they are.

Kishika Hasame hums, the sound warbled by his sharklike jaw. “Y’know, I don’t think that curly-haired kid was gonna abandon them, after all,” he posits sagely.

“Someone kill this dumbass,” says his neighbor.)

Chapter Text

They’re wading into the shoreline within twenty seconds, spirits high but tension beginning to build again.

“We should head to the exit if we can,” Izuku says, “but that might not be such a good idea if someone’s watching the stairs.”

Froppy nods in agreement. “If they still have the Mist villain, he’d probably just warp us again, ribbit.”

“We can regroup with Aizawa-sensei, right?” Mineta-chan asks quietly, piggybacking on Froppy to keep his nose above the water. “If it wasn’t just us that got warped, he’s gotta be down here fighting those guys to find everyone…”

Eyewitness accounts say Eraserhead prioritises rescue over all else, especially that of young children, students and pets. He would have stuck around no matter how few of them got warped…

His eyes fall on the dust clouds kicked up in the central plaza, and a lash of Eraserhead’s capture scarf. The Mist villain probably warped him there to keep him occupied. Due to quirk discrimination, villains are statistically more likely to have mutant-type quirks which Erasure is less effective on, and Izuku definitely saw more than a few heteromorphs in the plaza… by himself, those aren’t good odds-

“Midori, I know what you’re getting at and that’s stupid!” Grapes hisses. “Don’t be stupid, stupid! We’ve gotta stay safe!”

“We don’t need to get close,” he counters, “we can stay in the water and take out villains one-by-one to lighten Eraserhead’s load.”

“But- Tsu-chan, you tell him!” Grapes cries as Izuku starts to tread towards the plaza.

But Tsu-chan takes him off her back and places him on the shore, leveling him with a flat stare. “Mineta-chan, we don’t have anywhere else to go. I know it’s scary to go there. You can stay here if you want, but-“

“-but I can’t let you two go alone!” And at that, his brow twists in startled realisation. “Aww man… If I die, I want big-tiddy anime girls engraved on my tombstone!”

It goes alright at first, for all that Minoru is scared shitless hiding out so close to the main bad guys.

In the confusion of Aizawa-sensei’s battle, the villains are only watching him and that Hands dude. Hands guy himself is staring at Sensei as his hair rises and falls and counting to himself like a creepo, so none of them are gonna notice a few of their friends going missing.

Tsu-chan’s tongue is like a lasso, snatching them up one at a time for Midori and Minoru to gag, restrain and stick them to the riverbank so their heads stay barely above the water. Midori mutters as they go, determining each guy’s quirk and which is the best to take out next.

It’s kinda weird, watching Midori handle his balls… heh. But seriously, he plucks them from Minoru’s head just as easily as Minoru himself does. And then the moment he unsticks his hand from each ball, which how the heck is he doing that, he’s not even storing them- , there’s a split-second blurred in black and green where he swears Midori shrinks about a foot and.

Hold on. Are those boobs? No way, right?

Midori catches him staring at the spot where- he must have Tsu-chan’s bahongers on the brain- and grimaces, and after that he can’t even catch a glimpse through the flicker, air cracking around Midori like a whip each time.

But Minoru worries. Midori’s beginning to flag, has been since they got warped, even if he doesn’t realise it himself.

And before Minoru can get used to this new, faster rhythm that’s probably wearing Midori out even more than before, one of the villains manages to open her big mouth and yell “HERO BRATS!” at the top of her lungs before they can stick it shut.

Oh hell no!

Hands guy, the one who’s been calling the shots, turns to face them, punctuated by a sickening crunch. Minoru finally, dimly registers their teacher, cratered into the earth and bleeding from the head, flesh cracked down to the bone where his shoulder’s supposed to be; exposed brains, beak and a thousand-yard stare looming overhead.

Midori’s out of the water now as Hands guy reaches towards him, yards, feet and then inches from Midori’s head, and Minoru knows that his face will flake away with that touch but he can’t even form a sound to warn him-

Then that same thing happens, that blur of green movement, and Hands guy’s grab sails through empty space where Midori’s head used to be. Midori ducks further, and Minoru has an instant to register a greenish trail of long, wavy hair and a black hoodie and yoga pants that definitely aren’t his hero costume and damn, those curves, before crack!

Hands guy goes sailing away, leaving behind a trail of blood as Midori stands tall, now back to his usual self. And then he wobbles and clutches his head, recoiling from his… transforming head-bash technique.

Where the hell did that come from? Midori’s a chick?! Or he was for a second…? Is that why he hasn’t been using the guys’ changing rooms? Does he use the girls’ rooms, the bastard?!

… Yes , those are his first thoughts. Let him cope, damnit!

“Noumu! Kil’ ‘im!” Hands guy chokes through his broken jaw and half a tongue, downed and disoriented. Minoru’s stomach flips as the hulking abomination picks itself off Aizawa-sensei’s corpse- his body, that can’t be a corpse-

And then the Noumu is just

there

And Midori isn’t.

They’re drifting.

How long has it been? A second?

There’s no light. No darkness. No real sense.

Is this… storage?

They try to raise an arm, but it’s a phantom gesture, one becomes two becomes one becomes none, which is which?

Is this how… it felt for…

Grapes and Froppy?

It’s like something in the back of their mind, only now it’s at the front, and split and fractured and

send one

They need to send Izuku or Izumi back.

which?

splitting and

…Izuku. Take Izuku, if he takes Izuku then he can maybe convince them that they didn’t see anything else and then-

breaking and drifting and

And…

Then what? What, when that creature, the Noumu takes another swing? What, when the Hands villain bears down on him again, fingers outstretched? What, when the next villain is taking their shot?

Izuku has a realisation in that moment.

Are they really going to risk their life, just to keep a secret from their friends?

shifting and aligning and strengthening and-

-and that is the moment that they begin to break free.

Nothing falls away into light and sound and color and pitch. Emptiness resolves into gentle air, firm ground beneath them, a vast inky figure above.

They take it slow coming back, slower than they ever have, letting Izumi’s body roll out of storage and flat onto her stomach. The Hands villain has fainted dead, Froppy and Grapes are picking their way between villains’ downed bodies towards Aizawa-sensei, and the Noumu scans the plaza and the lake for its assigned prey to the exclusion of all else.

Izumi breathes air into fresh lungs, trying to ignore her lingering dizziness. They noticed something about the Noumu while they were watching from a distance, before. Unlike the others, it doesn’t move. It doesn’t shift, doesn’t twitch, doesn’t even breathe.

Until Shigaraki orders it.

The crunch of a shattered leg plays again in her mind. The shadow of hulking fingers and desperate red eyes linger in her vision as she blinks.

Above her, barely two feet away, that same monstrous hand hangs motionless by the Noumu’s side.

Izumi pushes off the ground and scales the creature’s back in one smooth motion, hands and feet finding purchase between its oversized vertebrae, leaning away from its field of vision as it continues to search for Izuku; she doesn’t know if it would recognise her as the same person it was ordered to kill.

“Shigaraki Tomura. Shigaraki Tomura, please return to consciousness!”

She glances back to the Hands villain, still out cold, now with the Mist villain fretting over him. If ‘Shigaraki Tomura’ wakes up and makes another order, she thinks that the Noumu could easily tear them all apart.

Mind set, Izumi raises her hands over her head and grabs at the biggest thing they have in storage and-

oh.

tsu-chan, mineta-chan…

oh, they’ve been such an idiot.

uraraka-chan, todoroki-kun, iida-kun…

the names come so easily now.

kouda-kun, yaomomo-chan, kaminari-kun, hagakure-chan.

all locked away, behind

this.

Izumi leaps off the Noumu’s back as the gigantic severed arm of the Zero-Pointer begins to fall.

Failing the exam, lying to Kacchan, becoming a vigilante, rigging Aizawa-sensei’s test…

They’ve been such an idiot! That’s so unendingly stupid! What were they thinking? It’s like… the memory of the arm that they stored, so huge and complex, blotted out their voice of reason!

The hand crumples against the Noumu’s head. The monster barely seems to notice as the ground around it fissures and shatters.

And not just their reason. The names of their new friends, too. What other parts of their brain were repurposed like that, that they just didn’t notice? What parts could be? Their perception? Morality? Identity? Their breath and heartbeat?

The arm finishes falling with an ear-rending screech of abrasing metal. The Noumu is completely engulfed by the scrap left behind, and Izumi knows that must have barely done a thing, but they hope beyond reason that it at least means it can’t hear its master anymore.

If it really isn’t sapient… why didn’t they just store its head? They can’t do that now, the mess of scrap too big to store in whole and too unstable to take apart, but just moments ago they had such an easy shot of it.

They shake away the thought. It’s done now, and all they can do is to make best of the situation.

Clothes, scissors, elastic, tarp… What could they use to…?

Hold on… Isn’t there more in here than they thought?

The elastic… if that was in here, they would have used it for the grip strength test. Some notebooks they didn’t even realise they lost… a few entrance exam robots, even though they dumped them all in the lake… Clothes they forgot they had… Were they all made inaccessible by the zero pointer’s arm? Compressed, maybe, like computer files?

But even with more choice, none of this is good for incapacitating the Noumu any further. The best she could do would be trying to block out sound with their entire extended wardrobe, but even with as many scarves, sweaters and jackets as they’ve collected over the years, it already seems like a hopeless effort.

The twisted tower of scrap metal creaks heavily, and then the massive shoulder joint snaps off, rolling down the side of the arm and skidding off into the lake, taking off a sizeable chunk of the grassy shore - thankfully not where they stuck all those villains - down with it.

That… could work.

It’s a gamble whether the Mist villain could open a portal down in the depths, but the fact that his portals are gaseous should be enough to make it very difficult - nigh impossible if they can keep distracting him.

Izumi heads to the shoreline and begins digging, storing cubic chunks of the earth and releasing them off to the side, letting the grass fall into the water rather than risk the apparent side effects of storing something so complex.

She sends another glance to the apparent villain leaders as she works. Shigaraki Tomura is still unconscious and that seems to be keeping the Mist villain occupied… but he probably won’t stay down for long, especially since he was awake for a while even after his blow to the jaw.

Tsu-chan and Mineta-chan have secured Aizawa-sensei by now. Mineta-chan has moved on to sticking villains to themselves and each-other, scalp bleeding copiously as he continues to pluck orbs from it, gritting his teeth. Tsu-chan checks over their teacher’s injuries, pale but not distraught.

If Izumi can just keep the Noumu out of the villains’ reach… they might just survive the attack without casualties.

Wiping sweat from her brow, Izumi takes a step back to check her handiwork. She’s cut back the lake’s shore into a jagged set of stairs made of dirt and sand, leading down into the water.

Finally, she places her hand against a large, misshapen panel of the Zero-Pointer’s arm.

And stores it.

She turns tail as the arm immediately begins to collapse in on itself without that supporting panel, seeming to teeter for a long moment, before the arm’s shoulder-end finally lists sideways towards the channel she dug, ready to join its missing parts in the depths.

Relief floods Izumi’s system as she watches it topple…

“I think not.”

As if to follow those orders spoken in smooth baritone, purple mist seeps past Izumi like a flowing river, spilling into a vast void that swallows up the shoreline.

…the arm never hits the water.

Dread pooling in her stomach, Izumi twists to sweep over the area, but she doesn’t see the darkness to indicate an exit portal anywhere.

Are they… leaving?

“No Al’ Might, damaged and de-uffed, units lost, seco’d wave incomi-g…” a quiet voice slurs. Izumi blinks at Shigaraki Tomura, now conscious again, the dismembered hand dislodged from his face to reveal cracking skin and unfiltered hatred, talking widely around his severed tongue-tip as his fingernails gouge into the red-raw flesh of his neck. “We ca— comprete our mai- missio-… Kurogiri, I-m go-a give -oumu a side-quest.”

“As you command, Shigaraki Tomura.”

To Izumi’s mounting horror, Noumu’s malformed head emerges, unblinking, from a small portal nearby.

Shigaraki Tomura splits a glob of blood to the side. “Noumu,” he snarls, sadistic glee mixing with rage in his voice. “Forge’ erythin’ else. Rampage in that schoo-l until nobody’s left a’ive! Kil’ eryone you find! An’ make sure to kil’ this green-haired brat first.”

And Izumi…

After so long in crisis, Izumi could laugh.

The USJ’s doors burst open, and the last thing that she hears before the inky dark consumes her is that iconic call of “I AM HERE!”

And plummetting into the fog, Izumi knows that it’ll be okay.

What the heck is even happening anymore?

First Midori is like, half-chick or something for a second - and then he-she-

…it?

-he vanishes with a whip-crack, and after five seconds of terror searching for the ragdolled corpse of his friend flying out over the lake, she tumbles out of thin air, right at the Noumu’s feet.

That punch from the Noumu… Minoru’s seen All Might in action, everyone’s seen his media coverage after all, and that punch is just like one of All Might’s… except without any hint of his restraint.

If that punch hit anything besides the empty space that Midori left behind… the sonic-boom rings in his ears and his eyes flick over to Aizawa-sensei, who still isn’t stirring in the pool of his own blood.

Like that, but a lot worse.

Tsu-chan pulls herself halfway out of the water before Minoru can grab her by the wrist. “Are you crazy?!” he hisses. “That thing’s gonna make mincemeat out of us!”

“Look,” she motions blandly.

He follows her gaze towards the Noumu. It isn’t making any move to attack them - its vacant eyes sweep right by Tsu-chan and Minoru like they aren’t even there. Chick-Midori rests in a commando-crawl right under its nose and he feels another spike of panic - that’s his friend! That’s too close, she’s gonna-

Tsu-chan places him on his feet, but his knees almost buckle.

“Why do you want to be a hero, Mineta-chan?” Tsu-chan asks, a grounding palm on his shoulder.

“I-I just wanna be cool!” He sniffs helplessly. Tears well up as the fear of today catches up with him all at once, and he hates how his voice cracks girlishly when he says, “Heroes are cool! I wanna be cool!”

She blinks at him, and then something crosses her face that might resemble a playful smile. A gloved finger to the corner of her mouth, she muses, “You are cool. Restraining these villains and saving Aizawa-sensei would be very cool, ribbit.”

“But-“ he glances around at all the villains Aizawa-sensei took down. He doesn’t feel cool. “-What if they wake up?”

“Then I’m here with you.” The reply comes with no hesitation, nothing like Minoru’s own doubt. But her hand tremors just a little on his shoulder, and now that he looks, she’s pale as a glass frog.

His eyes fall on the Noumu again, on Chick-ori compressed ready to spring up onto its back, even as it tries to search and destroy the other Midori.

Minoru swallows his fear and wipes his eyes, fists clenched. He’s gonna be cool, damnit!

There’s scares along the way.

When unnatural smoke slithers and twists into a void with wispy yellow eyes that chooses to fuss over Hands guy.

When a huge crash draws their eyes to the Noumu, now encased in a tomb of busted-up mechanical parts that Minoru only vaguely recognises, Chickori rolling to a stop a ways away as dust chokes the air.

When one of the villains jumps him as he draws close, only to be insta-KO’d by Tsu-chan’s tongue while Minoru is too busy screechng.

But mostly, it goes pretty well!

And then it goes horribly wrong and right, all at once.

A portal forms as the Noumu’s prison topples over, killing whatever plan Chickori was cooking. Hands Guy is awake now, the Noumu takes an order that he can’t hear through the buzzing in his ears, and then it’s gone.

The front entrance bursts open with All Might’s famous, triumphant line. “I AM HERE!” But he’s too late. As another portal swallows Chickori, his voice hardens like Minoru has never heard on TV. “TO TEACH A VALUABLE LESSON.”

They’re gonna be alright.

Minoru shares an uneasy glance with Tsu-chan.

Will Midori?

Chapter Text

Izumi hits the floor and rolls. She barely gets a chance to-

careening and

Safe. They’re safe.

What was that, anyway? A desk?

soaring and tearing and

Take Izuku.

He gasps as the world reforms spinning around him, tripping over his bulkier legs and into the trashed desk, barely keeping his broken arm pinned in the air as his other wraps around the bent desk leg-

CRACKOw, his ears!

The only desk left soars across the room and shatters against the wall like it’s made of balsa, cobwebbing cracks through the paint, plaster and brick. Izuku makes to hide next to the filing cabinets but those are next, crushed like cans and toppled so hard that he’s half-surprised they don’t fall through to the lower floor-

The sound isn’t carrying. Nothing but dirt and concrete below. Ground floor? Or lower?

Izuku glances around and bites back a curse. No windows. They’ve been dropped in the corner opposite the door, so they’ll need to bypass the Noumu’s rampage to get out-

The thing screeches like a wounded hawk, ear-splitting and terrifying, and for an instant Izuku is caught in its gaze before it returns to systematically destroying every square inch of the room.

Forget everything else. Rampage in the school. Kill everyone you find.

And kill Izumi first.

That should lock it out of killing anyone else while Izumi is alive, but…

They thought it would be so easy to shut the Noumu down under those parameters, but now, up close… the heavy-duty printer splinters against the wall, and Izuku curses as he shields his eyes from the plastic debris. Could it kill someone else by accident, following those orders? It seems like it’s prioritising what it can do right now, so would it ignore the last order to complete the others?

What if Izumi leads it away from the school where it’s supposed to be rampaging; would it follow her out? Could it take advice from Izuku in service of its orders, to make its actions more predictable?

And what happens if it brings down the building? All the people that would kill… would it have the foresight to avoid that until Izumi’s gone?

It’s… what do they…

What do they do?

The Noumu leaps-

SPLITTING AND FALLING AND DRIFTING AND TEARING AND

and

Where?

FLYING AND FALLING AND FALLING AND FALLING AND FALLING AND FALLING AND BREAKING AND BEATING AND

The Noumu.

Izuku! Take SPLITTING AND DRIFITNG ADN TMUNIBL- Take Izuku!

TUMbLing and falilng and fllaing and and lfaling and lfy ing an d f ly i ng d r f i t i n g

Izuku hits the floor hard, crying out as the sandy rubble slides out from underneath him, forcing him to put pressure on his broken arm this time.

He lays on the now finer bed of debris, trying to hear beyond his own ragged, stuttered breath. Footsteps grow further away, uneven and uncontrolled, joined by the ominous sounds of brick walls cracking and crumbling, furniture splintering under deadly impacts.

The Noumu moved on while Izuku was stored, but…

…What do they do? What, how do they fight that? That single punch alone, it wasn’t even aiming to kill but that could have still broken his spine-

-and

and

and-?

Izuku blinks dumbly.

and

Why

They were going to think, why The constant quirk stuff, the…

The…

They can’t complete it… The storing, storing both bodies at once it’s like there’s

no space for that so they have to

make room.

Shift thoughts about a bit, and then they fall back into place but a little differently each time, like moving a box in and out of a cupboard, all the smaller stuff gets knocked onto the floor so it’s harder to work with…

Is that what’s happening?

Izuku catches themself staring blankly at the wall.

It’s been

minutes, they think.

They need to… check. On the Noumu. But

it’s fen- it’s fine. Fine, it’s fine.

…What is? Big… black bird thing, fine. Fine.

on some level, they’ve worked out that things aren’t so dangerous now. But on another, they can barely string together whathowwhy they know.

Izuku glances around. The noise has faded, nothing in particular woke them from

not quite sleep

Where are they, anyway? It probably has to be somewhere that the Mist villain knows, so

He’s been to this room in the school?

Something makes sense there, but they can’t make the actual connection, just feel the shadow of it clicking together.

The sandy debris shifts underneath Izuku’s rump and he finds himself sliding down the mound and it’s like he suddenly has a body again, all the signals crashing into him at once. He stumbles to his feet, overwhelmed by the ache permeating his body and the regular pulses of nerve shooting from his arm and the dust dancing in his lungs

He’s standing.

frozen

Rubble

and

His hand leaves the banister and he almost topples back down the stairs.

…The stairs?

Oh,

1-A’s room.

they recognised the last few hallways

It’s

They

It helps,

sitting in their chair.

Staring at

the front, it calms them.

The class is empty.

The school was empty

tick, tick, tick,

empty.

That feels good.

End of the day

is how it feels

tick, tick,

The clock reads 10 and 27

But it’s silent like the end of the day.

That feels good,

because the school is empty

tick, tick, tick,

10 and 43

and empty at this time

means         evacuated?

Because of the attack.

Wires crossed, communications missed, panic

They’ll wait

here.

They’ll be found.

Midoriya.

Izuku blinks at the name, and at their fingers in front of them,

but then it isn’t quite their own voice, and it isn’t quite their own hand.

“Midoriya-shounen, can you hear me?”

“Hello,” Izuku hears in his own voice. It takes another      to connect the person in front of them to Yagi-san. “I was waiting here.”

tick, tick, tick,

“Alright, young Midoriya.”

tick,

“Are you hurt?”

Izuku blinks, then nods. They glance between both arms resting on their desk - one is broken.

tick, tick, tick, tick… they lose count, but they weren’t counting.

“-can’t bring Recovery Girl here,” Yagi-san is saying. All Might is saying, but not in his usual boom, they realise.

They nod,

Harsh smell brings him rushing back to the surface as they cross the threshold to the infirmary.

“I- You can’t heal me,” are the first words that truly feel like Izuku has spoken them, the first with conscious thought behind them.

“I know, dearie, you’re far too exhausted,” Recovery Girl says sympathetically, tutting at his wrongly-bent arm. “You’ll only be getting bed-rest, for now. And perhaps some painkillers.”

Then she bustles over to Yagi-san, talking with him in low tones, as Izuku’s eyes begin to grow heavy with the background noise.

“Where did you find the dear, Toshinori?” Chiyo asks as she casts up the unresponsive child’s arm, all of her usual waspish demeanor peeled away in the wake of such a sobering day.

She hates that she is surprised the boy survived his apparent encounter with that monster. Hates that the situation became so dire that she believed what she did, after Mineta’s and Asui’s incomplete, slightly jumbled accounts were relayed to her.

To prepare her for the worst; she knows that was Nedzu’s thought-process.

“He was in the classroom just sitting at his desk, staring into space,” Toshinori answers, grim-faced. “I told him his classmate are fine, but I don’t think I got through to him.”

Chiyo only hears him belatedly, eyes locked on her own shaking hands. “He’s… resilient, the dear,” she says haltingly, as much for her own benefit as Toshinori’s.

She donned these medical gloves under the assumption that she would be tending a child’s corpse in them. She wants them off.

But she still has work to do.

Toshinori seems to sense her distress, subtle as she’s become in her later years through thickened skin and dulled responses. “Would you like some coffee?” he offers quietly, “I could bring back one for each of us.”

Chiyo is oddly touched by the thought - she knows how Toshinori’s mind works from decades of active duty intermingled with Sorahiko’s, how he always loses the small gestures in service of his grand ideals.

“Thank you, dearie. If you could get me a decaf with one sugar, that would be very kind of you,” she says warmly, and Toshinori lights up like a child on New Year’s.

It sends something bittersweet through her, that hint of genuinity in his nervous smile:

The realisation that she hasn’t seen in it decades.

She watches the door gently squeak shut, and allows herself a moment of reflection. Perhaps it would do some good to lighten up on the boy. Chiyo… regrets how snippy she’s become with him; it’s an ingrained habit that served her well in Toshinori’s early days, but now one that has only been pushing him further from help, without her ever realising.

By now… she turns her eyes to her patient - not the child in front of her, head down with one fist clenched on his thighs and the other resting loosely, but the one hiding inside. By now she’s heard plenty of the teenage girl, Midoriya, who shifted Toshinori’s worldview so thoroughly. And Nedzu, following today’s attack, felt it wise to inform her of Midoriya’s true quirk status, to ensure he gets the help that he needs.

… That they need.

She hasn’t told Toshinori as much, of course - working with patients so young, confidentiality is beyond vital.

“Can you hear me, Midoriya?” she asks the boy.

He remains motionless to the point that she’s worried, but then he whispers a “yes.” Still in shock, perhaps?

“I need you to stay awake for me, can you do that?”

He seems to nod off, but then his head raises to complete the motion.

“Can you tell me your name?”

“Midoriya…” and then oddly, he seems to be stuck. “Izu-ku,” he finally finishes, halting as if he’s second-guessing himself.

It’s… worrying, right up until she realises that Midoriya-female must have a different first name… and it’s perhaps difficult to remember which body he’s occupying in his overwhelmed state.

…They. They, for pete’s sake. Has she been doing that this entire time?

Curse the rigidity of age!

Shaking her head, she returns to the matter at hand. “Do you know what day it is?” she asks.

“D’you know…? USJ?” he processes belatedly. It’s Thursday, but Midoriya’s half-answer suggests a modicum of awareness, at least.

“Thank you,” she smiles wanly. “Now, if you could switch to your other form, please...”

Midoriya is suddenly replaced with a seaweed-haired girl - it takes a second or two for Chiyo to even realise that he’s different. Just how honed is Midoriya’s quirk, for the change to be so seamless in such a dire state?

The girl is just as dazed as the male Midoriya. She seems tiredly unaware of the implications, that Chiyo knows of her existence - a lack of reaction that Chiyo tries to be grateful for, as it simplifies the checkup… but it worries her all the more.

A quick once-over to catch any more injuries, and she’ll put Midoriya to bed. Lord knows the child deserves it.

That coffee can’t come soon enough.