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The school was abuzz with excitement as spring rolled in warmly, bringing with it bees, flowers, sneezes and the promise of a well-deserved spring break. But for the art department of UA, it brought the most exciting time of the entire year: the gigantic annual art exhibition for the third years before they left UA.
What made this year’s annual art show so interesting was the inclusion of tons of art that placed Class 1-A on a pedestal that no other first year class had reached before. Sure, there were tributes to previous, famous pro-heroes who had attended the school. Even a few portraits of The Big Three and a permanent, hilarious cast bronze sculpture of Mirio with his naked derrière sticking out of a brick wall and his bronzed face smiling through the other side, but never had UA seen such tribute to first years.
A beautiful, white plaster sculpture of Deku stood in the center of the large art gallery space near the reception area. The young hero himself knew about the sculpture, having been picked out by a large, almost intimidating sculpture student who preferred to see their subject close up for long periods of time. They had chosen Izuku for many reasons: his belief that everyone deserved to be protected, his willingness to help those in need, his incredible quirk and connection with All Might, and that he was intimidating while still incredibly baby faced.
Izuku would sit quietly and nervously for them, with his anxious, wobbly smile, and his squared, tense shoulders being gently but forcibly relaxed every few minutes. The student, Ryo, was careful to make sure Izuku was okay, and they often asked if he needed a break.
"I'm okay!" He would nervously blurt out when asked. Ryo nodded and would always say,
"Okay, you let me know if you need a break." And they would return to their work.
Behind them, another student named Ayumi worked in her large sketchbook, using newspaper clippings and photo references from the internet, all while working on a large painting, but she refused to let anyone see them. One day, near the end of their own work on the plaster Deku, Ryo approached her and asked to see her work.
"No," Ayumi said, "not yet. They aren't perfect. Just let me work, okay? Stick with that green haired kid, Ryo."
And they did. Ryo left her alone, and they returned to working on Deku, who would always sneak photos of the sculpture's progress and text to his mother. They spent a good deal of time crying about it over the phone before Iida went around the dorms and demanded lights out.
The opening reception was held on a Friday, and students and staff were encouraged to dress up, and to meet and mingle. Class 1-A knew they were special guests this year, and the girls did each other's hair and makeup, and even styled their gruff homeroom teacher's hair for him, much to his dismay. All Might and Aizawa taught the boys how to tie their ties, and commented on wrinkled shirts and unkempt hair.
Before the grand opening, Aizawa pulled his class into a quick meeting, hos tired eyes determined to shit down any nonsense before it happened.
"I understand that this art show has a lot of you in it, but that doesn't mean you go crazy. This is a classy reception. There will be wine and champagne for the adults. If I see even one of you try to take one, I will absolutely expel you. No screaming, no jumping or running, and pardon my French, but no bullshit. Got it? I represent you, and you represent me. I will have no problem removing you from this school should you choose to act foolishly and embarrass me or your classmates."
"Yes, Sensei," the class chorused in the quiet way he had trained them to use.
"Will you be drinking?" Kaminari asked.
"No. I do not drink while on the clock. I do know that there will be soda in there, so I'm looking forward to a coke."
"I helped make cookies and cupcakes," chimed in Sato, "please, everyone eat one! I promise they are the best I've ever made!"
"Oh, I can't wait!" Ochako exclaimed as she squeezed Tsuyu. "It's like being at an art gallery in New York City!"
"You wish," Bakugou sneered. "I've been to the MET and the Guggenheim, round face. This is nothing."
"It's still exciting," Izuku said, voice shaking. "Kacchan, there's a painting of you in there, you know."
"Yeah, I heard. Who cares?"
Aizawa looked at his watch, then said, "Okay, children, it's time to go. Soda only, eat Sato's cookies, and remember my warning. And leave me alone. Mineta, stay away from the girls."
With that, he turned around, unwittingly showing off the pretty French braid he'd been given by Mina, and led the way through the wooden doors into the large art gallery.
Class 1-A entered and stopped in awe of the sight. Paintings, sculptures, installations, and photographs filled their eyes, and there was almost too much to see. A good deal of the work presented was certainly dedicated to them, as well as other notable students and pro-hero alumni, but there were still works of landscapes, abstracts and animals.
Izuku saw All Might quietly standing to the far left of the space, his back to the many students and staff, and he practically hopped to his mentor excitedly.
"All Might! Isn't this amazing?" He asked. But All Might was silent. Izuku turned his gaze away from his teacher and to the wall, and suddenly he felt his heart freeze.
Before them loomed one huge canvas that offered tribute to the league of villains, specifically Shigaraki, Stain, and Nomu. The only way those three could have been depicted so well, so realistically, was if the student who painted it knew them personally, or spent a great deal of time researching their likeness online from news reports. Izuku examined the painting further, and was creeped out to see his own homeroom teacher painted front and center, his face smashed in and bloody.
"Who painted this?" Izuku asked, his small voice quivering. "This is...this is so upsetting." All Might placed a bony hand on his protégés shoulder and sighed.
"These are the children I worry for the most," he said very quietly. "Whoever this is, they are suffering. They most likely don't have anyone that protects them. Don't bring attention to this, my boy. I am going to find them myself. Please do not try to help. Understood?"
Izuku was taken aback by the command, but he nodded in agreement. The two parted, and Izuku tried to look at the art that didn't terrify or concern him. He was lucky to have Ochako grab his arm and pull him over to a very fun installation of what looked like her sculpted out of pink, white, and black balloons. They found Ryo's impressive sculpture of Deku, and a beautiful series of photos of Tsuyu underwater.
The evening seemed to be going well for another thirty minutes. Izuku and Aizawa ended up grabbing a coke at the same time, which to their surprise was poured into a lovely glass normally reserved for champagne. The teacher smirked and said, "Well, it looks fancy enough." They clinked their glasses and talked about a fantastic painting of the city they both liked before moving on separately.
Minutes later, however, a glass shattered. A few people turned instinctively towards the sharp sound, All Might and Izuku included.
"Oh shit," All Might said a little too loudly as he rushed forward to Aizawa, who had found the large villain painting, and dropped his glass in shock at the sight of not only the Nomu, but of his own bloody corpse in the foreground. But the broken glass wasn't the worst thing to happen. All Might reached the teacher just in time, because Aizawa, who never let anything bother him, suddenly started to shiver, and he fainted right there. All Might caught him before he hit the floor, and the reception slowed to a halt.
Recovery Girl, wearing a lovely little pink and silver dress, made her way over and ordered the older hero to carry the teacher to the med bay for privacy, space, amd smelling salts. "He'll be okay," she assured a few of the students as they rushed out, hundreds of eyes watching them leave.
The evening was quiet from there on out, until the art teachers ushered in the end of the reception and sent everyone out. Class 1-A tried to visit their teacher in the medical center, but Recovery Girl refused them entry. They went back to their shared living space, shoes in a pile and still in their evening wear as they talked and tried to think of what to say and do when they next saw Aizawa and All Might.
The next morning, the students who had fallen asleep on the floor or couch were woken by the sounds of heavy footsteps entering their living space. Izuku and Ochako were among these students, having fallen asleep on the floor, and Izuku woke up first. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, yawning loudly. A hand patted his messy green haired head, and he looked up at the sight of All Might.
"We need to meet someone," the aged hero said quietly. "Brush your teeth and meet me in my office in 30 minutes."
Izuku nodded and obeyed his mentor, quickly racing to his room to attend to his hygiene and changed into a shirt and normal pants. Finally, he threw on his red sneakers and ran out of the dorms towards All Might's office. When he arrived, he was greeted by the tired, worn frown of his homeroom teacher, who wore a gigantic sweater and sweatpants and held a mug of piping hot tea between his rough hands. He said nothing, and looked away after meeting Izuku's eyes.
All Might sat beside Aizawa, looking worried and a little angry. The teenager sat down in the chair across from them and nervously wringhis hands. "Is...is everything okay, Sensei?"
"No," All Might answered. "That painting you and I saw last night had us both concerned, but it spooked Aizawa-san terribly."
"Why would someone paint that?" The hero said quietly, almost too quietly.
"He had a flashback at the sight of the Nomu and it made his blood pressure drop. He fainted out of pure fear, young Midoriya. Today, I asked you to join us, along with the principal, to discuss this issue with the artist herself."
"What?" Izuku gasped. "The artist is here?"
"Yes," answered All Might. "She has never had an issue here before, so it's important we talk to her now. You understand that this requires the utmost confidentially, young Midoriya. You are not to discuss this matter with anyone, not your friends, not other teachers, not even your mother. I don't care if you have a girlfriend or boyfriend, no one is permitted to know about what goes on here today."
"Yes, sir."
Twenty quiet, agonizingly awkward minutes dragged on. Izuku continued to wring his hands, All Might stared at a wall, and Aizawa clearly didn't want to be anywhere except his bed. "I don't want to be here," he said. "Call my husband to pick me up."
"You know I can't," All Might said. "We have to confront this now, Aizawa-kun."
"I didn't know you were married," Izuku said.
"And if you're smart, you'll continue to not know that," Aizawa growled. "Keep it quiet, kid."
Finally, the door to All Might's office opened, and in stepped Principal Nedzu and a third year student. She looked upset and kept her arms crossed and her head down. Izuku breathed in sharply when he recognized her as Ayumi, the student had worked so secretly on her painting for the UA art show behind Ryo.
"Ayumi," he started, "you painted that? Why?"
"It's just a painting," she snapped. "I don't see what the big deal is."
"It made me faint," Aizawa said sharply. "How dare you paint such a terrible moment in our school's history. I nearly died. Several of my student nearly died, Ayumi. It wasn't something to immortalize in art. It was horrifying; my class needed therapy for three months. I'm still in therapy for it."
"The point of art is to pull a reaction from people," Ayumi retorted. "And I guess I got a good one from you."
"I fainted!" He slammed a hand on the desk. "What on earth is wrong with you?"
"Whatever," Ayumi scoffed, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "It's just a picture."
"Ayumi," Nedzu said sternly, "I think you may be missing the point. To you, it's a picture, but to Aizawa Sensei, All Might, and Mr. Midoriya, it was reality. They were all there for the event. I doubt they see your painting as art. And let me be clear: we are not criticizing you as an artist. I think your style is beautiful and that you are indeed talented. I have no doubt in my mind that you will be able to create a wonderful career for yourself. But what concerns me greatly is that you aren't understanding why this piece is more than simply controversial."
All Might sighed and stepped in. "Ayumi, please understand that in my eyes, your painting looks like villain worship."
Ayumi's eyes darted away from one wall to another. Izuku noticed immediately, and he wanted to speak to her desperately. But he kept quiet to let his mentor speak first.
"Ayumi, do you feel sympathy for Villains?"
"I...I just thought it was an interesting concept. Everyone else was doing heroes."
"This is a hero school. We literally train future heroes," Aizawa said. "I am terribly concerned about this, too. We need to have a very serious conversation about this, Ayumi."
"There's nothing to talk about," she snapped. "Why am I being lectured by the the school's token goth teacher?"
"Very funny," Aizawa quipped. "But if you are indeed engaging in villain worship, then it's an issue. Is there something you need to talk about? Are you thinking about joining the League of Villains?"
"Izuku," All Might cut in before Aizawa could say anything that would backfire, "what do you think about all this?"
It was the first time the hero-in-training had been asked for his input, and he felt his insides squirming. He nervously picked at a few scars on his hands and answered in the shakiest little voice,
"I...I think Ayumi definitely stepped over a line but I also think that maybe she's telling the truth. That maybe...maybe she really was interested in the villains as subject matter? Like it kinda makes sense, you know? The media overflows with hero worship and we have Hero Conve toons in Tokyo and Kyoto, and tons of merchandise and things that heroes and hero fans get to enjoy. Maybe Ayumi really did just want to explore the villain side."
"You're taking her side?" Aizawa hummed quietly. "Well...shit. Okay, let's assume Midoriya is right. But that doesn't solve the question of why you needed to use those particular people, Ayumi. Or the image of me being literally smashed into the ground. I need answers, Ayumi. I really do."
Ayumi sat down on the floor and started to wipe at her eyes, clearly upset. The four of them let her have some space.
"Just leave me alone," she whispered. "Take the stupid painting down, throw it away. I don't care. Just leave me alone for fuck's sake."
"We will have to take it down," said Nedzu, "but we won't be throwing it away. That's not our right. Ayumi, it's your art and we respect that. But we're just very concerned."
"So you think that because I painted something different, I'm the bad guy!" She started to shout, standing up and slamming her fists on the desk. "So everyone else is allowed to be completely insane and dangerous and use their fucking quirks like idiots, this little brat here gets to break his own bones hundreds of times and not get expelled for being a danger to himself, but I'm the fucking bad guy because I painted something no one else was brave enough to paint?! Is that it?"
They were all taken aback by her angry outburst. But it was Izuku who truly felt her fury.
"She's right," he spoke up meekly, earning surprised glares from his superiors. "We have gotten in trouble for misusing our quirks or doing stupid stuff, but no one is my class has ever been taken in and accused like this before. Not even Mineta, who is a giant creepy pervert. Ayumi...Ayumi did nothing wrong here. She may be a third year, but she's still young. We're still kids, senseis. We mess up. I think Ayumi has been punished enough."
All Might stared at him without any expression, and Izuku couldn't tell if his mentor was furious or indifferent. He knew he would be getting his own lecture after this, but he didn't care. Defending this young lady was important. She had no one to defend her. It was the least he could offer.
Ayumi sniffles and let a few tears run down her cheeks. She wiped them away and said quietly, "Sensei, I painted you in there like that to remind us that true weakness is giving up."
"...I don't follow," Aizawa said, skeptical.
"I mean like, if you had given up, the villains would have won. And you'd be dead. You're not in the painting as a corpse. You're in it as a survivor, as a hero who didn't give up in the darkest hour. That's it. I...I'm sorry that I scared you."
His eyes narrowed but he seemed to at least struggle to understand her. "I don't...I didn't...I'm not creative in the least. I don't understand symbolism or...I don’t get it.”
Ayumi realized this was her moment to explain. "The villains are there in the painting and they serve as a reminder that anything can happen at any given time. That’s why they loom so prominently in my painting. And you’re in it the way you are because that’s what villains do to Heroes.”
“Like a reminder of what we have to face,” Izuku said quietly. The three adults turned to him immediately and he shrank. Ayumi continued.
“Exactly. We know the risks we take. And Aizawa Sensei here survived it. That’s why I painted this.”
The teacher in question sighed. The room grew quiet, and it was clear he was going to say something.
“I’m not creative,” he finally said quietly. “I really don’t understand symbols or anything like that. I’m a rational man. Please understand why this painting affected me as it did. Next time, you need to confer with the heroes in your art if you're going to paint them like...that. But I also think...I think that if Ayumi’s painting is be left up where it is, then I would like for her to write a small essay on what it all means. It would help. A lot.”
Nedzu was surprised. “You want it to remain on display?”
“Yes. It’s wrong for us to take it down based on our own judgements. Art is relative, right? All I ask is for an essay.”
“Artist statement,” Ayumi said quietly. “It’s called an Artist Statement. I will write one. I promise.” She wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry I upset you.”
“It’s... it’s not fine but it’s forgivable,” the teacher said. “I forgive you. I expect the artist statement be complete by tomorrow morning.”
“I can handle that,” she replied. “Senseis, I apologize again.”
Izuku stood up suddenly and bowed to her. “We are sorry too. I’m sorry we scared you and made you feel like a villain. You’re not a villain Ayumi. You are a talented artist who can teach future art heroes from your experience today."
“And a controversial one at that,” his mentor added. “But yes, we accept your apology and offer our own. I am sorry for the misunderstanding, Ayumi.”
She was dismissed after that, still upset and rather shocked that her painting had garnered such a reaction. But she was grateful she had a chance to talk about it.
Izuku looked to his mentor and his teacher for permission to leave as well but instead, Aizawa said, “Sit down, Midoriya.”
The teenager froze and shivered before slamming his butt back onto the couch.
All Might said, “I want to hear what your thought process was, young man.”
"My what?"
“What made you defend Ayumi?”
Understanding dawned on his face. His pinched his bottom lip and thought, then answered,
“Ayumi isn’t a villain. She’s a kid, like me. And she messed up, like I have. If I were her, I would have wanted someone to come to my rescue. She needed someone to hear her instead of accuse her. She didn’t commit a crime. Maybe she made a bad decision but no one died. Aizawa Sensei fainted, but honestly sir, maybe you needed that.”
“I needed to faint?” The teacher looked incredulous at such a claim. "What on earth are you saying, Midoriya?"
“You needed...I don’t know? An excuse to finally be angry about it? And Ayumi’s painting helped you. In a weird way. Like we know you were hurt and that you were really pissed about the whole thing. But you don't ever share your feelings with us or anyone. I think seeing Ayumi's painting forced a cry for help for you. I've never seen you so angry about it before."
Aizawa mulled it over, the said, “Maybe. I do feel better in a small way. Guess I need to stay in therapy longer."
“Ayumi needed a hero today,” Izuku added. “And I felt I needed to be that person for her.”
He waited for them to tell him he was crazy, that he would be a lousy hero if this was how he processed a crisis. The silence was unbearable.
“Well done,” All Might said finally, reaching out and patting Izuku’s head. “You did exactly what I hoped you would.”
“Was this a test?”
“Oh no, not at all. This was real, my boy. If it were a test it wouldn’t have been so extreme or in the public eye. This was the real deal. And you are to speak of it to no one. Remember that.”
“What do I say if someone asks?”
“Why would they ask?”
Izuku shrugged. “Because I’m 15 and leaving your office?”
Nedzu laughed. "Fair enough. You had a meeting with us regarding a low test score. Nothing worse than that.”
Izuku agreed that it was reasonable enough. He left the office proud that he had processed the meeting with Ayumi well, and that his better judgement helped her in the end. When he returned to the dorms, everyone was still passed out from the evening before, and for that he was grateful. He went to his room and wrote about the experience in his hero analysis journal before passing out in his bed.
The next time he saw the painting, it was accompanied by a three page artist statement, each page framed simply. It said exactly what Ayumi promised to write, and even included in a small apology to Aizawa for not thinking to discuss the painting with him in the beginning stages. It was a good start to creating more bridges between the heroes and the artists that were tasked with creating art and designing merchandise.