Chapter Text
Washes of pink and red painted the newly born day. Harsh and messy strokes of clouds moved stiffly over the horizon. The warbling of crows resonated in the silent morning sky.
Midoriya awoke.
Usually, Midoriya would consider himself a morning person. He enjoyed watching the sun rise overhead, the sky getting brighter and more joyous by the moment. He liked watching the morning joggers, running along with their dogs, breath visible in the cold of morning. Even when sleep still stained his eyes, Midoriya loved the touch of morning’s fresh.
However, today, he awoke with a certain weight on his shoulders. The air was stale, heavy, and gave the impression of drowning. Sitting up in his bed, Midoriya felt like he was floating, yet weighed down. The static stillness was so immaculate that Midoriya questioned if he was still asleep.
The crows continued their pestering and Midoriya decided that he wasn’t in a dream.
Checking the clock beside his bed, he read that it was 6 in the morning. A reasonable hour for Midoriya to begin preparing for the day, but an unusual hour to hear crows.
“It’s probably nothing,” Midoriya yawned. Perhaps he was feeling out of it because he had slacked slightly in his sleeping routine, over the summer vacation in August. Now, with September here, the second semester of school had begun and with it, new routine.
Stepping into his slippers, Midoriya prepared himself for another day at U.A, ignoring the crows and opening the window to light in fresh air. Living in dorms with the rest of class 1-A brought many different oddities, to be expected when living under the same roof with teenagers who each had extraordinary quirks. Maybe Tokoyami’s Dark Shadow had summoned crows this morning, or something like that. Could it talk to crows? Was it even a crow?
“Aw man, Aizawa-sensei is late again! Again!” Kirishima complained aloud, throwing his head back in his chair. Leaning back in his chair, the front of his seat lifting off the ground, Kirishima plopped his head on the desk behind him. “I need to go to the bathroom, man! What if I leave and he shows up! It’s happened before!”
“Stay seated and wait till our teacher arrives! The bell has already rung; you should have gone before!” Iida chastises with the sharpness and tenacity of a bull. “You have this problem every day, one would think that you would have learned by now!”
“I can’t control when my bladder wants to explode!” Kirishima frowned.
Iida clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “You can however, control being late to class, which I assume is why you can never go before class starts. If you would like me to wake up in the mornings, I can arrange-”
“Oh, shut up!” Bakugou growls from behind Kirishima. “I don’t need to fuckin’ hear about Kirishima’s piss this goddamn early in the morning!”
“And I don’t need to hear that language this early in the morning.” The rough, biting voice of Aizawa alerted the class as he stepped into the room with a coffee in hand. His eyes were more bloodshot than usual and his expression sobered up the class immediately.
With a low boisterous bow, swinging down with enough force that Midoriya almost heard the whoosh of the air, Idia apologized. “Sensei I am sorry! I didn’t mean to ruin the moral of today’s class with my reprimanding! I will sincerely try to control Bakugou’s mouth from now on!”
“Like hell you will!” Bakugou snarled and put his legs atop his desk defiantly.
With a short, but dangerous noise that could only be described as a rumble, Aizawa brought the attention of the class back to him. “Go have your quarrel later.”
Uraraka giggled and Midoriya smiled. Aizawa had downed his coffee in one impressive chug. Then, he turned to the class and stared at them until they settled down into an uncomfortable silence.
“Stop your smiling, I have something very serious to talk to you about today.” Aizawa’s eyes flashed red and once again, the class stood up straighter in their seats. Midoriya felt his heart sink a little at the cold tone Aizawa had used. This was a tone he had only heard from his teacher when they were in battle.
Pin pricks of dread pulled at Midoriya’s skin. It was no secret that the world was dangerous right now. After Bakugou had been kidnapped by the Villain Alliance, class 1-A realized that if they didn’t get stronger quickly, they wouldn’t be able to protect each other. Even Bakugou, who was more of a one-man circus than a team player, had realized that a semblance of teamwork was needed to keep themselves safe now.
Although, Midoriya found that he was grateful, even if they had to fight to understand each other, that Bakugou and he were on better terms now. He only wished that it wasn’t due to such dire circumstances.
The class was on the edge of their seat as Aizawa let the silence drag on. “What I’m going to tell you today,” his voice dropped, “does not leave this room. Does. Not. Do you understand?”
Midoriya swallowed a lump that was building in his throat. The suspense was a physical ailment. Wringing his hands, Midoriya prepared himself for what he was going to hear.
“This information is top secret, and there are few records on it. It’s a secret buried in history. Tell me, who is it that writes history?” Aizawa made eye contact with each student letting his words sink in. “The victors make the books. Each one of us in here, we are part of the victors.”
“What do you mean?” Jiro leaned forward in her desk, her eyes narrowing slightly. “We haven’t won any wars yet.”
“Not any war that was written about, no.” Aizawa looked out the window. “Look at the world around us. 80% of the population is supernatural.” He made a swiping motion with his hands around the class. “We are part of that 80%.”
Iida raised his hand, speaking after Aizawa made eye contact with him. “Are you meaning to imply that we have intentionally engaged in warfare with those who are not supernatural, that is to say, Quirkless?”
Midoriya bit his lip. He reminded himself that he had a quirk now, as far as everyone was concerned. Yet, he couldn’t stop associating with the Quirkless.
He knew that those who were Qurikless in today’s world were outcastes. They were seen as primitive humans. He knew. He experienced it. But with a smile on their face and bravery in their heart, heroes saved people, regardless of who they were. Midoriya wasn’t sure if other Quirkless people considered themselves at war with the Quirk population, but he never considered himself at odds with the Quirk population.
There were fascist political parties and groups who called for war against those with Quirks, who by nature supress those without Quirks, per their ideology, but the dialogue was not popular. Whether because of the amount of regulation around Quirks causing day to day life to be manageable for the Quirkless, or because the Quirkless knew that they were a frail minority that would lose any battle with the Quirk majority, Midoriya did not know.
“Keep your mumbling in your head,” Aizawa glared at Midoriya who blushed. He had not noticed he was muttering aloud. Nobody heard any of that, Midoirya hoped. “Anyways, no,” Aizawa addressed Iida, “there is political discord with the Quirkless,” Bakugou coughed and looked at Midoriya who shrank in his seat a little, “but I’m not talking about that.”
With a sigh, Aizawa ran a hand rough his scruffy hair. “You are the first class of students we are ever telling this too. Most heroes don’t even know this. The origins of Quirks that is. The root of Villains. The truth.”
The class was silent as they drank in the words.
Finally, Yaoyorozu put up her hand and cocked her head in question. “But, sir, Quirks originated by natural mutation and the passing of dominant genes, since Quirks are advantageous for survival, is that not true?”
Midoriya and Bakugou exchanged a look. Was this about All for One? He had played a pivotal role in establishing villain culture. Midoriya shook his head. All Might wouldn’t want One for All and the origin story to be made public, not even to this class.
“It’s not a natural mutation. It was man made, by its predecessor.” Aizawa informed. “Before Quirks existed, the supernatural was still present, in the slim minority. This group of supernatural humans were known as wizards.”
“WIZARDS?” Ashido slammed her hands on the seat. “You mean like ‘Abracadabra’ pulling rabbits out of hats?” She made a motion with her hand that resembled pulling a bunny out of a hat.
Midoriya blinked a few times. Wizards? There used to be wizards? This was the first he had heard about it. Part of Midoriya was relieved to know that this was not about One for All, but now he was more confused than before. Just how many truths were buried in history?
“We don’t know much about wizards because everything about them was destroyed. Probably by us, the Quirk population. The silent war, a genocide of the wizarding population.” Aizawa scratched his prickly chin. “The first few villains were thought to have been wizards.”
A cloud of dumbfound hung over the students. This was unlike any history that had learned before.
Midoriya raised his hand. “You said Quirks were made by wizards, can you explain?” Closing his eyes, Midoriya tried to piece together all the hidden parts of history that he had been presented with, but it didn’t add up. He needed to know more.
“Once again, we don’t know much about wizards, but,” Aizawa paused, unsure of how to phrase his next words. “Back in the wizarding days, mind you this was over sixty years ago, the wizarding population was small. It always had been. There was lots of inbreeding, we speculate. Then, in the late 1900’s, there was a rise in a cult of dark magic. Soon, there was a war, and the outcome cut the wizarding population down, drastically. They tried to artificially create wizards to compensate.”
“What?” Yaoyorozu spoke in bewilderment. Covering her mouth, eyes wide, she looked around the class. “You mean to say…”
Midoriya was left unsure of what she had concluded, but then it came to him. Hit him like a punch to the gut that left his insides churning.
Pacing around the room slightly, Aizawa continued to explain. “They experimented ended up creating Quirks. Then for some unknown reason, Quirks took over wizardry. The wizarding population was enraged that their creations had overtaken them and left their control. Us, with Quirks, were capable of magic like wizards, but also of feats they could only dream of. They became villains, to take us down, and they faded away.”
“Why are you telling us this?” Asui put a hand to her chin, her face the picture of calm despite the betrayed looks in the eyes of the students. “We can’t restore the wizarding population and you yourself said they died.”
Midoriya fidgeted in his seat. Her words made sense. This was all history, and as much as Midoriya didn’t like that the world was hidden from such a brutal history, there was no reason to tell it to the class.
“They took all their knowledge of magic with them, knowledge that we could use.” Aizawa’s voice was flat. “Knowledge that for the first time in years, we might have access to.”
…..
Midoriya perked up.
“That was in the past, how do we have access to it?” Todoroki, who had been silently observing commented, his gaze level.
“Quirks are capable of many things. There are three in the world that can achieve some form of time travel.” Aizawa went to the door of the classroom and opened it.
“All Might!” Midoriya exclaimed under his breath as his teacher walked in with the principal and a man that Midoriya had never seen before in tow.
“Good morning my students!” All Might returned to his original form for a few seconds before deflating to his gaunt self. Coughing, he regained his poise, taking on a more serious tone. “Aizawa explained to you the hidden history of wizards and now, this man here,” All Might gestured to the stranger, “has given us access to the past.”
Midoriya analyzed the stranger. He was a middle-aged man, in his late forties if Midoriya had to guess, but the way that he carried himself was much like a teenager. His taffy eyes were bright and he had the nervous energy of an eager child. Yet, he looked frail with sunken cheeks, bags under his eyes, skin sickly pale, tangled dull blond hair, and his posture had a slight slouch to it.
“H-hello class!” The stranger greeted, his voice shaking. “My n-name is Mamoru Tendo. My quirk is Soul T-travel.” Mamoru look down at his hands that had begun to fidget with each other. “It allows me, to,” he began to cough. The coughs turned more violent and Midoriya stood up in his seat with concern.
“N-no, I’m fine.” Mamoru smiled weakly at Midorya. “My quirk lets me send the souls of any number of people to any point in the past.”
“That’s an awesome quirk!” Kaminari’s eyes went wide.
“Uh, well,” Mamoru blushed, “you all are much more amazing than me! M-my quirk has draw backs. When I use it… I go into comatose. The more people, the further back, it takes, m-more out of me. L-last week, I woke up for the first time i-in 30 y-years. Last I-I remember, I-I was 10 years old.”
Slamming his hands on his desk, Kirishima exclaimed. “Holy shit!”
Midoriya bit his lip, a cloud of horror settling over his head.
“A-also, my quirk breaks before anyone can alter the past o-on a large scale. It only s-sends the soul, s-so there isn’t much you can do, b-but quirks still work when you are in soul form! T-they are magical, a-after all! I-I mean, p-physical quirks need a medium- but,” Mamoru began to cough once more.
“Mamoru here has agreed to let us send you back in time. To recover the knowledge of magic.” Aizawa took the opportunity to explain. “There is a Villain known as Replicate who can, well you can guess, replicate the body of anyone he touches. Like making dolls of people. If we send your souls to the past, then Replicate can use his quirk to make you all bodies.”
“Wait! Wait! Sensei what are you saying?” Uraraka shook her head. “I don’t understand, we are going to the past? Why us? We aren’t even pro-heroes!”
“The only way to properly learn magic is to go to magic school. The best in the world being Hogwarts, which was in England.” All Might spoke sympathetically. “We don’t like the idea of sending students, but students are the only ones that can do this job and your class already has proven themselves as capable.”
“Y-you won’t lose any time on this time plane! Y-your bodies will stay here, the real ones, I mean, of course. It will seem like y-you were never gone to anyone here!” Mamoru’s eyes lit up.
Aizawa pulled another mug of coffee out of a cupboard. The class didn’t question it. “Don’t misunderstand, we aren’t forcing you. This journey to the past might take years, even if in this timeframe you will lose no time. Your real bodies can’t be injured, but we can make no claims about what damage to your fake bodies will do to you or your soul. We aren’t going to ask your parents, since this is all top secret. It’s your choice. If you don’t go, keep quiet, simple.”
Nedzu, nodded. “Exactly as your teacher says! This is a favour to us, you will be doing. It is up to you and you alone. All Might, Eraserhead, and I will come with you to the past, however only you will attend school. We can’t get in because we aren’t student, of course!”
“When you go to the past,” Mamoru cleared his voice, “y-you will get the image of an hourglass in your mind. T-the sand tips t-to show how much of the future has changed and i-if the sand gets too much it will break and send you back. O-or you can break it yourself and send yourself back.”
Midoriya stared blankly at a spot in front of him. The words went in and out of his ears. “But Mamoru,” Midoriya had to wait a moment to find his voice, “if you do this, won’t you be hurting yourself? You just woke up, for the first time in so long. More than half of your life you have been comatose, do you really want to do this?”
Mamoru opened his mouth, then closed it and laughed, before his laugh turned into a wheeze. “I w-was born with a weak body. Then with m-my quirk, t-the government was always watching over me. I a-always wanted to be a hero. S-strong and brave, and able to h-help. Me? I w-was, I couldn’t, do anything without hurting myself. W-we are all going to die someday and I want… to do all I can before I die.” Mamoru’s face flushed. “I want to be a hero too! In my own way! Do you accept my feelings?”
Midoriya felt his heart beat. He understood Mamoru’s feelings. Not caring about what harm is done to you, just wanting to help someone. He had felt it when he rushed in to save Bakugou when Midoriya was still without a quirk. He had felt it when he almost rendered his arm paralyzed when fighting Todoroki. Midoriya could sympathize, and yet!
“Think about it.” The principal pat Mamoru on the back as he addressed the class. “This has been a lot for you today, so I’ll give you the rest of the day off.”