Chapter Text
It's a completely normal day at UA. The sun is shining- thereby blinding every unfortunate student who had the bad luck to sit next to the window, because UA's architects apparently valued aesthetic over cornea function- the birds that woke Midoriya up at the ass crack of down are still chirping merrily through those nasty shit windows despite them being bulletproof, and Aizawa is twenty-five minutes late to the first period, which means he will keep them after school that day for fifty.
Iida is sitting unobtrusively at his desk- or as unobtrusively as he can, anyway, given that he's still bristling with the urge to yell at Bakugou to remove his shoes from his desk, god what a heathen- when Midoriya abruptly slides open the door. Now, Midoriya isn't the type of person to be late, which is why Iida had originally thought the boy was sick or something. He'd even contemplated going to the store to buy some microwavable chicken noodle soup after classes so he could bring it to his friend's dorm later, which is why Iida starts as soon as Midoriya begins walking through the door.
"Midoriya! I had not expected you to be here today! Your lateness is most uncharacteristic of you, and must I remind you that it should not be a trait belonging to any UA stu-"
"Iida-kun, congratulations," Midoriya abruptly cuts in. Iida blinks again, taken aback, because Midoriya rarely ever interrupts anybody- "I listened to your voice for about half a second and almost gave a fuck. You know, telling somebody not to be late sort of loses the charm after the thirty-second time you belt it out in front of the entire class."
And with that said, Midoriya walks casually over to his desk, parks himself into the seat, and drops his bag beside him. It takes about the same amount of time that Midoriya was listening to Iida for the class to absolutely erupt.
"ROASTED."
"What the fuck, did Midoriya just-?"
"Is he sick?"
"He's definitely sick, I don't think I've ever seen Midoriya even say crap, let alone drop an f-bomb-"
"And on Iida, no less-"
"Who is he and what's he done to Midoriya-"
"Looks like the shit nerd finally grew some fucking balls," Bakugou snorts, kicking his legs up on the desk. "About time."
Suddenly Midoriya whips to stare at Bakugou. He's not glaring or widening his eyes, but there's a sort of scrutinizing, whirling intensity to the forest green gaze that would make even All Might feel slightly perturbed. All Bakugou does is narrow his eyes and stare back- "what, you fucking nerd, have something to say?"
"You know, Kacchan-" Midoriya suddenly squints his eyes, scrunching up his face. "Actually, I don't know why I call you that. I've always thought it's a cute name but for someone like you, it really doesn't match, at all. So if I really pick a name that's more appropriate given your behavior, I feel like it should be something that Kaminari said a while back- now, what was it called again? Crap stewed in sewage?" He picks a moment to mull, and Bakugou is so flabbergasted for a second, seeing the blunt and offensive words coming from a boy that used to stutter at his shoelaces that he can't even muster the control to think anything, let alone talk. Then Midoriya snaps his fingers. "Ah! Right! Garbage stewed in sewage, although I can't really determine which one you'd be more of. Garbage or sewage? Which one's worse? Technically speaking sewage is, so I suppose that'd be your personality, with garbage being your face."
"WHAT'D YOU SAY TO ME YOU DAMN NERD-"
"Ah, right, I forgot. You also seem to have hearing problems. Most of the time when I talk to you, all you can do is roar at me angrily, and I guess that's only a natural response if your hearing is bad. You know, to respond more loudly to a person that was speaking at a reasonable volume."
Bakugou's desk explodes. He leaps up, lunging forward to grab Midoriya's head-
The well-conditioned remainder of Class 1-A lunges just in time to restrain him, with Iida grabbing Bakugou's head and physically pulling him back, Yaoyorozu casting a net out of her body to keep the boy from toppling atop of and subsequently throttling the not-so-innocent-anymore-greenhead, Todoroki encasing his hands in ice with rapid speed to keep them from detonating. (After three charred shirts' worth of experience, he's learned that when Bakugou lunges at people, his hands start crackling before the rest of his body even moves.) Kirishima's grabbing his arms with a Quirk-enforced grip, and even Mineta has pulled out a few of his purple balls to cement Bakugou's feet to the floor.
As it is, Bakugou's nose is literally an inch away from Midoriya's; his eyes bulge like that of a provoked bull's, his nostrils are flared, and his entire body is writhing against all of the holdings to crush Midoriya's face against the wall.
Midoriya continues the lambast, completely unfazed. "And that's apparently your favorite response to everything, as well. Since childhood, you've always seemed most prone to responding to a peaceful, ordinary situation with complete violence. I've never understood why- perhaps it's because you're simply too easily provoked? Or is it because you have a thirst to prove to others to back down? Or maybe..." a hint of a smile tugs at his lips, wonder swirling in his eyes as he looks up to gaze nonchalantly at his childhood 'friend'-"it's because, deep down, you feel insecure about everything and anything that has a brain. Which would make it tempting for you to beat me up the way you did all the time when we were kids."
Like a switch, the room loses its loose, uncaring atmosphere. The class suddenly goes quiet.
Even Bakugou's eyes widen, and at the sudden mention of their previous behavior-their previous roles, a history that had been seemingly discarded come to UA- his body goes limp for a split second.
Midoriya continues babbling, apparently oblivious to the havoc he's just wreaked upon every member of the class. "About that. Did you know how inconvenient you were to my Mom? You know, hospital fees don't come easy and neither do doctor's trips, so after a while, she became a self-taught medic. Bought a bunch of gauzes to fix ankles that you'd sprained, always had extra bandages to cover up black eyes because you know, when you get beat up, passerby stare like the one who gets beat up is the freak. Well, if nothing else, I guess I learned to stop caring about what everybody else thought." An easy grin comes onto his face.
The temperature in the classroom has dropped like Todoroki's just overdosed on his Ice Quirk. The room is rock still.
In the silence, Bakugou swallows. His eyes haven't stopped glaring at Midoriya since the second he started talking, and now in the silence, Bakugou opens his mouth. When he speaks, his voice is dangerously low, a dark spitting of words:"and why. Why should I give half a shit about all that? The past is in the past, fucking Deku. I thought you were at least strong enough to have gotten over this shit."
The group that had been restraining Bakugou moments before has lost all thought of their previous motive of merely preventing Aizawa from giving them another lecture and punishment of washing the toilets for half a month. The chilling implications of this quickly gone-wrong conversation instead make Kirishima turns to stare at Bakugou in shock, and next to him Uraraka's hands silently rise to cover her mouth, eyes staring disbelievingly at Midoriya's jaunty smile-even Iida's at a loss for words. Todoroki's left side bursts very obtrusively into flames, his gaze positively lethal as he turns to stare at Bakugou, expression venomous.
Midoriya grins. He seems completely unbothered and it's giving Yaoyorozu chills down her spine as she stares at the greenhead to wonder just what has been lurking behind her classmate's pure smiles and sweet, caring nature. This is a Midoriya she's never seen before, and yet the face matches the eyes, the syntax of his words rippling alongside the easy loping of his tongue, and all she can do is feel her heart valves beat against each other in a disjointed rhythm.
This is what Midoriya's gone through?
"Yes, Kacchan, the past is in the past. There's nothing we can do about it now." He crosses his legs, tilts his head to prop it against his hand as he analyzes Bakogou's features. "That's why we have to move on, put things behind us... Only, that's difficult to do when sometimes you look at your classmate's face and remember him telling you to commit suicide."
Bakugou starts.
"Taking a swan dive off of the roof. Well, at least you had the sympathy to conceal it with pretty words." His smile goes toothy. "Didn't know there was much inside you that still remembered what a swan looked like. I'm pleased that you mustered up enough brain power to use it in your insults. You know, I was considering it for a while- don't give me that look, Kacchan, you don't know the power of words." He leans forward. "And I'm here to teach you."
"Do you know what it feels like? Having teetered on the edge of self-inflicted harm, death, loss, everything you wouldn't want to inflict upon anybody but apparently yourself? I was standing there for a long, long time, Kacchan, and you made every attempt to kick me to that ugly monster living. Right. In. Here." He jabs the top of his head with his pointer finger, pulling it back only to stab it once more, very harshly, into the side of his head. He repeats the action, and while it's just the force of a single digit everybody in the class winces with each gesture, even Bakugou, currently restrained in a membrane of netting.
"Like I said, I have no idea what made you respond so violently to everything. Maybe it really was just an inflated and simultaneously insecure ego. That kept you punching and kicking and refusing my help even when, you know, all I wanted to do was just see if you were okay after a fall- never thought it'd warrant a lifetime of bullying, did I? I guess that's what keeps me up at night. The fact that my own nature makes people like you, people who used to be my friend, hate me. And, you know, at first, I thought, what if it's me? What if I'm in the wrong for trying to help others?"
He stands up. Leans in toward Bakugou, stares at him in the eye, and for the first time in his life, Bakugou Katsuki flinches back from the dark pools glimmering in Midoriya's eyes. They tell of loss, of sadness, of reflection that's gone wrong and been warped into something dark and sinister that the blond has never even imagined before. "And so I guess I only have one question for you. One answer to satiate my curiosity. After my mom spent half of her wages paying for medicine so she could fix me up. After I learned how to ignore people's stares and whispers. After you made me consider suicide and wonder if I was wrong in the head for wanting to help people. After you did that all to me... "
"Was it fun?"
Bakugou's eyes are wide, scarlet orbs stuck in the unwinding road that is trapped inside Midoriya's head, leaking through his optical nerves, perturbing as a black moon. "I want to know, Kacchan." His smile is saccharine. Sickening, now. "Was it worth seeing me flinch every time you walked up to me? Did you like the feeling of power over somebody else, being able to kick somebody down without ever looking back? Did you enjoy it? Because I really didn't like what you did to me, so I sure as hell hope there was at least somebody who got anything out of it." Now his voice has turned dark.
He turns to Yaoyorozu, and as calm as Yaoyorozu is, as stoic and sang-froid and reasonable, she can't help but recoil backward at the full intensity of his gaze toward her. He jabs a finger toward her- not accusing, but simply to focus his attention toward her face. "Thank you, Yaoyorozu-san. You know, I've always thought that you were very reasonable if a little bit underconfident. I want you to know that you have no reason to be- you're perceptive and as naturally gifted as anybody else in this class, so keep up what you're doing. Don't falter. Except I would appreciate it if you let down the netting- thanks for that, by the way- Kacchan might wake up sore tomorrow if you keep his body twisted in this same awkward position."
Wordlessly she abides. Bakugou is released into a more natural position, gaze dark as he stares toward Midoriya. He's not saying anything, but his face tells of a storm- eyebrows furrowed, jaw set, teeth gritted like he's trying to decide which part of Midoriya he should go for first in a fight. Midoriya glances at Iida and Kirishima, and wordlessly they let go of the previously snarling redhead. Midoriya leans down and with a quick, unnervingly accurate swipe of his hands, powered by a minimum utilization of Full Cowling, shears the purple balls clean off the top so that a bare minimum of the sheetlike purple gel is coating the blond's shoes. The remainder of the rubberlike balls jiggle in place, still stuck to the ground.
Midoriya turns as if to speak to Todoroki, but before he makes eye contact with the boy, he inhales deeply, face contorting with a brief look of concentration.
Fortunately for him, Todoroki understands and doesn't need verbal orders. Wordlessly, he steps forward. He makes eye contact for a split second with Bakugou- there's his own contained fury, Bakugo's unspoken challenge, the withering gaze of heterochromatic eyes- and melts the ice off of the blond's hands. He drops them in disgust the second the blocks of ice evaporate into steam, and Bakugou jerks his own arms back like he's touched posion.
Midoriya claps his hands, looking up at the front of the classroom, where there's apparently... nothing. He smiles innocently. "Aizawa sensei, I'm done now. You can come out if you'd like."
The class starts at what appears to be empty space before their disheveled teacher abruptly drops down from the ceiling behind their SmartBoard. He flips once, landing in a perfect crouch before rising to survey his startled class, fixating fatigued, dry eyes on the greenhead seated in front of him, narrowed into a careful look of analyzation. Though his hands may be shoved into his pockets, his shoulders are taut, eyes radiating tension. Midoriya simply smiles.
"Midoriya, come with me. Iida, you're in charge while I'm gone."
"Sure, Aizawa-sensei."
"Yes, Sensei! I will ensure to the best of my ability-" he casts a distraught gaze over the rest of his stone still class- "that I maintain whatever calm remains in this classroom." His glasses flash as he adjusts them with one hand.
Midoriya crosses over to the end of the room, joining their dark-haired teacher. Aizawa's expression is unreadable, but his eyes fix themselves on Midoriya for a heartbeat long enough for everybody to know before they exit the classroom.
There is something wrong with Midoriya.
"I knew that villain had something to do with this," Aizawa mutters, sinking back into his chair.
Midoriya hums pleasantly next to him, apparently unbothered by the whole ordeal. Aizawa, All Might, Recovery Girl, and Nedzu are all seated in the same room, a small, somewhat unnoticeable office tucked beside Recovery Girl's office. All Might luckily has a free period, and Aizawa's presence has been excused, as he's Midoriya's homeroom teacher who spends the most time with him at school and has a decent amount of information about the shit that's happening. For the time being, Cementoss has taken over Aizawa's class and is beginning their next lesson. Nedzu is sitting in a high chair next to them, swinging his hybrid legs and examining Midoriya in interest over a steaming cup of tea- as principal, he should be in his office, but a student becoming involved with a villain's quirk is a priority, so he's come to look after him to examine his condition for the time being. Recovery Girl has been called to see whether or not she can absolve Midoriya's latest condition.
"Wait a second, let me get this straight," All Might coughs, and while there's no alarming spray of blood accompanying it this time, his grimace is a sign of being obviously bothered. "This villain- Yumiko Mitarashi- has been on the loose for the past week and a half, and while she doesn't kill people, her Quirk, Personality Thievery, is very impactful. And it's made Young Midoriya-" he looks briefly unsettled for a moment, eyeing his unbothered young pupil, who looks the exact same in physical stature and yet so different at the same time.
"Experience a personality flip. Almost a flip of 180 degrees, if you will," Recovery Girl sighs, glancing over at Midoriya. He's currently tilting his head back, and from the rolling motion of his eyeballs, it's evident he's scanning the ceiling to presumably count the number of ceiling tiles. "Mitarashi's Quirk literally changes all aspects of the afflicted person's personality. By taking and stealing the victim's natural personal traits, what's left in place are the emotions that the victim has either squandered emotionally and kept hidden from society-literally any attribute that typically does not appear in the victim's everyday behavior, in a manner of speaking. Of course, these traits and emotions have to present in the first place for them to be manifest in the new personality that Mitarashi's Quirk pulls out. If the victim hasn't ever repressed, well, anything, then once Mitarashi's Quirk hits them, the victim will be left completely unchanged. Basically, Mitarashi's quirk functions off of the parts of oneself that have been suppressed."
"So the Quirk would theoretically work be most effective on somebody who's gone through a lot of pain and has hidden emotions," All Might deducts carefully, placing his fingertips on his chin. His brows are furrowed. "If a person who's always been given attention and has never felt emotionally neglected before were to get hit, then they'd probably be entirely unaffected. On the other hand, if the individual had many suppressed emotions and never had the time to speak of them, then once Mitarashi yanked away from their normal personality, they would still have a whole other personality to function off of."
"Exactly," Nedzu chirps. "And that seems to be what's happened to your student Midoriya."
Midoriya, despite being the topic of their whole conversation, seems perfectly content and wonderfully oblivious. Aizawa looks at his student, jaw locked.
Out of all the people to get hit, Midoriya...
Normally, if I had known more about the specifics of Mitarashi's Quirk before, I would've been almost relieved to hear that Midoriya got hit with it instead of anybody else. He's always been earnest, open in class, and with the way he acts, you'd think he just lets out whatever's on his mind. But to think that this is what has been literally suppressed... Cynicism, boredom, spite, anger.
"I never would've thought young Midoriya had so much locked inside of himself," All Might said worriedly, lacing his fingers together and leaning forward. "He's always been so open."
Aizawa nods, absentmindedly corroborating the idea. "Any idea on how long the Quirk lasts?"
"Indefinitely." Four heads all turn in tandem to look at Midoriya, who snaps back to attention once he realizes that he's been made the subject of a conversation. A sardonic grin tilts his features. "Why, hello. From the way you four were talking, it seemed like you were set on ignoring me and treating me like a suddenly disabled specimen. Nice to know I've been considered another talking human being again."
Aizawa swallows. All Might spits blood in surprise. Recovery Girl frowns. Nedzu tilts his head, and when he speaks his voice is suddenly unbearably soft.
"Midoriya, as a group we never meant to make you feel that way. We were simply trying to discern what's caused your sudden change in personality- we never meant to isolate you or your emotions."
"And yet you did. No matter how unintentionally." His grin hasn't faded, and All Might takes it back- there is absolutely nothing similar between this boy, sitting in front of him, jarring grin warping delicate features, hair mussed black, eyes shining with a dark, jaded gleam, and his young pupil, a boy with eyes like metaphorical stars and a smile that could put the sun to shame. Nothing. "Isn't that kind of ironic, though, Principal Nedzu? With that scar-" he taps the side of his temple, mirroring the slash on Nedzu's furry white face- "I've always wondered what you've gone through before. What humans must have done to you before your Quirk manifested-"
"Young Midoriya!" All Might snaps, a tone of jarred disgust fluctuating in his voice. "That's your Principal you're talking to, you must show-"
"Respect?" Midoriya turns to him, almost lazily. "The exact thing you were ignoring earlier?"
He taps his fingers listlessly against the side of his wrist. "You know, All Might, I've always wondered what would've happened if that Sludge villain hadn't escaped from your bottle. Yes, Kacchan wouldn't have been televised and interviewed as an unfortunate victim, but you also probably would've never made me what I am now. You would never have even considered me as a potential Hero- in fact, you would've just skimmed right over my presence, completely ignored all the thoughts that'd been swirling in my head so I could rot in a pit of slow deconstruction. There's nothing quite so crushing as having your lifelong idol sentencing you to a remainder of a lifetime of police duty."
All Might flinches. Midoriya continues, oblivious, or perhaps delighting in, the misery he's inflicting upon his teacher. "It's always plagued me, this hidden thought, y'know? How many other Quirkless people have you left alone, ignored, trampled? Or just normal people, at that? You've been the Symbol of Peace for so long I wonder if you even ever really see yourself as human anymore. Do you ever look at a civilian with hope shining in their eyes, admiration lighting their face up, and remind yourself that you're actually bioiogically the same as them? Or do you place yourself on a pedestal above them and justify your separation with I'm saving them, can't get too close? Because I think that's exactly where you were- up high, stuck on that pedestal with no regard for a Quirkless boy- when you first found me."
All Might looks simultaneously thunderstruck and crushed.
"Oh, my," Nedzu says calmly. "You just gave your favorite teacher quite the lecture, Midoriya-kun. I don't think he's been spoken to like that by a fellow peer before, much less a student."
"Really?" Midoriya inquires, mild interest disguising his suddenly sharp eyes, and Aizawa can see a little bit of the old Midoriya shining through there, with inquisitive expressions and thoughts, ever-moving, striking like lightning. "Then it's a good thing I just did. Somebody needed to inform him of that."
Aizawa looks at All Might carefully. The man looks like he's just gotten the breath knocked out of him by a live bear, and is trying to regain some semblance of composure; while it'd be heartless to ignore him in any other situation, there's still a pressing problem in front of them that deserves topmost attention. So Aizawa turns to Midoriya and chooses his words carefully, allowing him to guide the direction of their conversation so that All Might can recover, quietly, without anymore lashing from Midoriya.
"Midoriya. What did you say about the length of the Quirk?"
Midoriya shrugs, examining a speck on the window."It lasts indefinitely. That's part of what makes Mitarashi so powerful. Her Quirk sometimes can't ever be undone."
"What?" All Might gasps. From an outsider's point of view it might look almost funny, the Symbol of Peace- in his deflated mode, to be fair- gaping at a fifteen-year-old boy.
"What are the requisites for that possibility?" Aizawa inquires sharply, his tone disguising the sudden welling of alarm pooling in his chest. In his head there's a feeling that's taking place, akin to a skyscraper capsizing inwards- he feels like he's been sucker punched, and the idea that one of his favorite students is never going to get back is, bluntly put, wrecking.
Midoriya still doesn't seem very interested in him, eyes turning downward to examine his nailbeds. "Mitarashi-san didn't explain it perfectly, but I'm pretty sure I can fill you in on this much. You're going to have to find a way for the old me to want to come back again."
"What do you mean?"
"People need resolutions. When they don't get the sense of closure they need, some part of them is squandered, stored away, left to suffer in agony." Midoriya's grin is waifish, evil, villain-like almost as he turns to look at Nedzu- "And that's exactly what happened to my old self. For parts of him, there has been no sense of closure that he needs. There are a lot of parts of him that have been stored away and are suffering because he hasn't got the attention he deserves, the apology he needs, the acceptance that's required for fundamental human growth. To make him come back, you're going to have to give him the sense of closure that he and I both deserve."
"But statistically speaking, that's nearly impossible to do," Recovery Girl reasons. "We have no idea how many emotions or personality traits Midoriya-kun has been suppressing, and for what reasons. To find out what traits you've been holding back, then track them back to what's made you hold them back, is a nearly impossible task."
"Exactly. That's why I said her Quirk lasts indefinitely. It might never be undone," Midoriya says, a tone of glee in his voice. He looks almost happy, clasping his hands to his chest in childlike, disgusting joy.
"Actually, it can be, quite easily," Nedzu speaks up, suddenly. Like Midoriya, he's a thinker. There are almost visible cogs working away behind the mouse's eyes, chugging and slugging through rapid flurries of thought. "From what I've heard from Aizawa, you suddenly gave out an uncharacteristic lecture to your friend, Iida Tensei, as well as your fellow classmate, Bakugou Katsuki, the latter of which was noticeably longer."
Midoriya's eyes narrow.
"So it makes sense to reason that the sense of closure you were so avidly describing before is found in an individual you've lectured-because when you lecture somebody, you want them to reflect on their behaviors and past actions. You and Bakugou-kun live quite close to each other, and one of your first trips of the school year to Recovery Girl here was because of a confrontation with him. I have reason to say that one of the people you need closure with is Bakugou-kun. Aren't I right?"
The greenhead's teeth are almost gnashing, now. Finally, his face relaxes and he sinks back, smiling. "Wow, Principal Nedzu. Looks like your Quirk really is no joke, huh?"
"I'll take that as a yes. That means Bakugou Katsuki is one of the people you need closure with. And considering that you gave him quite the lecture the very first time you spoke to him after getting hit with this Quirk- that means you can't control what you say when you meet one of these designated people, I suppose?" Nedzu's eyes are flashing. "Then, in that case... All Might, you're one of the people Midoriya needs closure with, as well."
All Might, who has just recovered from one onslaught, looks like he's gotten hit with a truck for the second time. He stares for a second, looking as flabbergasted as Aizawa feels, who is blinking rapidly as if he's overused his Quirk. For a heartbeat, All Might looks a bit devastated- and then resigned.
"That makes sense," All Might says softly. "There have been so many things I should have but never said to you, Midoriya-kun."
Midoriya snorts. "You're going to have to try a lot harder than that if you want the Quirk to fade."
"Indeed. Mitarashi's Quirk gets more complex the more complex her victim is." Nedzu takes a sip of his tea. "I assume Midoriya has a couple of people he needs to attain closure with. For the sake of security purposes, I'd want somebody to oversee this process in case of some nasty Quirk aftereffects, but I don't know if that would disturb the emotional recovery that is needed for Mitarashi's Quirk to fade. For the time being, however, do you mind keeping an eye on Midoriya-kun to make sure he doesn't do anything unpredictable, Aizawa?"
"No," Aizawa responds. He's judging Midoriya very carefully. The boy hasn't made eye contact with him since he's gotten hit with the Quirk, and if what Nedzu's saying is correct, then could that mean...?
"Excellent," Nedzu announces, clapping his small paws together. He's still scrutinizing Midoriya very, very closely. "From what it looks like, Midoriya-kun, we've already determined two of the people you need closure with. From Mitarashi's past victims, it seems as if most of them have found closure by themselves, so it's likely that you only need closure with a few people as opposed to many."
"And Mitarashi's other victims have brainwashed to do her bidding," Midoriya drawls. "Is that what you're worried is going to happen to me, Principal Nedzu?"
"Is it?" Nedzu inquires sharply, turning the teacup over in his paws. "From what I hear, she can be quite persuasive."
"She is. But no." Midoriya taps his fingers against the edge of his chair. His eyes are narrowing. "That woman has gone through a lot, experienced many hardships. But it doesn't justify her current actions or past crimes. If any of UA's staff finds her, then I will not hesitate to help apprehend her to ensure that she sees the error in her ways."
"That's relieving in itself," Nedzu states. He steeples his fingers together. "And if you're sticking with us to this one, then it seems as if your senses of right and wrong have been left intact, even if your personality has been altered somewhat."
"Altered a lot," Midoriya corrects him, grinning. "But you're right about the moral part of things. Mitarashi's Quirk can, but in this case, hasn't upended my sense of what's right in the world. For that to happen, I'd need to have originally had some pretty strong doubts about good and bad before the Quirk hit me. But I didn't. So even in the scenario you can't get rid of the Quirk, you'll still be left with Midoriya Izuku, a U.A student aspiring to be a pro hero, to save others from villains and wrongdoing... It'll just be with a personality twist, so the Pro Hero to be is still a Pro Hero to be, just a little bit different than when you first met him."
"Thank you for the clarification, Midoriya-kun." Nedzu locks eyes with Aizawa and it's clear from his expression, carefully blank as it may be, as to what the hybrid is thinking. "With that said, I feel it most appropriate for you to take him back to class, Aizawa. We'll look into Mitarashi some more to determine the exact nature of her Quirk, but for now, I believe it is best for Midoriya-kun to keep in the classroom. He is, after all, a Pro hero to be."
"But-" All Might protests.
"You will have your moment of closure with Midoriya-kun when the time arrives," Nedzu states calmly, sipping at his tea. "And don't you have classes with him later today, anyway? There will be a plethora of opportunities. Besides, these things cannot be forced. Simply locking you in this office with Midoriya-kun will not provide you with ample time to see what he could possibly need closure about, and it might make Midoriya-kun even more frustrated."
There's a look of faint protest that fades into resignation on All Might's features. He sighs, sinking back into his chair. "Understood."
Nedzu nods. "Aizawa?"
"Got it," he says promptly, standing up. "Come on, Midoriya. You've missed half an hour of class and Cementoss has begun his next lecture."
Midoriya's eyes widen, and the yearning for information, learning, is apparently another trait that has not been robbed of him. "But today was the discussion about Quirk politics in the post Juuman- dangit!" He pivots abruptly and sprints straight down the hallway without so much as a beat of hesitation, which isn't too unlike Midoriya normally, except for the fact that Midoriya would usually pause to thank his teachers.
Aizawa sighs, nursing his temples. It's going to be a long day.