Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

      “What’s the matter, my boy? You seem to be quite… put out.”

     “Oh… Ah… I-It’s really nothing.”

     “Come now. Forgive me for saying so, but you don’t strike me as the type to cry without reason.”

     “You’d… You’d be surprised.”

     “Who told you that?”

     “H-Huh?”

     “Who told you that your tears fall without reason? That they’re meaningless?”

     “I… W-Well… Um…”

     “I see. Oh you poor, poor child. This world has not been kind to you, has it.”

     “It… It’s not so b-bad, really. I mean, I-I’m sure they just… w-want me to have… r-realistic expectations.”

     “Is that what All Might told you just now?”

     “…How… H-How did you…?”

     “Oh come now, my boy. I’ve been watching you for some time now. I know that you’re quirkless. I know that this world, this society, has written you off as worthless. Even All Might, the hero you respected more than anyone or anything in the world has told you to abandon your dreams, never even considering that you may have other talents beyond mere power, but I can see them quite clearly. You’re a strategist, my boy. An analyst with an eye for detail, and it is truly impressive to watch you work. With proper guidance, a talent like that could have many… applications. Frankly, you could have been a great hero. It’s a shame that All Might was too blind to see your true potential.”

     “That… Th-That’s not what he meant. It… It d-doesn’t matter how smart I am. I… I-I’m not strong enough to-”

     “But what if you could be?”

     “…What?”

     “What if you could have all the power you ever wanted, and the strength of body to match your strength of will and mind? An ability that would help you to achieve your dream, your desire to protect others--to change this society?”

     “That… That’s not possible.”

     “Oh, but it is. My quirk grants me that ability, you know: the ability to pass power on to others.”

     “…What do you want from me?”

     “Dear child, I thought that was fairly obvious. I want to be your guide. The one that helps you to hone your skills and convictions.”

     “You want my cooperation… to do what?”

     “My my, you are a clever one, aren't you? I want to help you achieve your dream, of course. I want to change this society; change this very world in fact. I want to create a world that is better for people like you.”

     “People like me. You mean quirkless?”

     “All the oppressed that this society has created. All those whose dreams are suppressed, mocked and stepped upon, regardless of whether they possess quirks or not.”

     “And this new world… what would it look like?”

     “What else, my boy, but a paradise?”

Chapter Text

     When asked how she was doing--how she was, how she felt, how she was ‘holding up’ or any other cautious variation of the same nauseating theme--Inko couldn’t ever muster a response. She would just shake herself out of her wet-eyed stupor long enough to offer a shaky grimace that she hoped at least bore a resemblance to a smile and thank them for their concern. But in the privacy of her own thoughts and locked bedroom, she admitted the truth.

     She felt like she was drowning. Wallowing in pain and grief and the horrible numbing shock of it all, because her sweet, warm, bright little boy, her Izuku… was gone.

     That day had started out like any other: wake up, roll out of bed, and head to the kitchen. Smile to herself as she passes her son’s room and hears his All Might alarm clock loudly declaring, “I am here to wake you up! It’s time to get ready for the day!” (he’d begged so hard to get it for his birthday, and what mother could possibly refuse such wide, pleading green eyes, especially when he was so kind and gentle and generous to everyone around him?), and prepare breakfast and a bento box for him to take with him to school. At some point in that process, he joined her, rubbing a hand down his face before fumbling with the buttons of his uniform. He smiled at her, his eyes as bright and clear and positive as ever, as he bid her a still-slightly-sleepy good morning, in spite of everything she knew he’d had to endure, even though he tried to keep it from her.

     At least, she’d thought that she had known. She soon learned just how little she actually knew.

     She’d first began to worry that something was wrong that evening, when Izuku never showed up for dinner. She tried calling him, texting him, and even emailing him in her desperation to know that he was alright, but to no avail. Then she tried calling the school, the neighbors, and even Mitsuki on the wild chance that he had gone over to play video games with Katsuki. 

     No one had seen him.

     Izuku never came home that night, and she never went to sleep. Instead, Inko had paced the length of their small apartment, tears pouring down her cheeks as she babbled hysterically to Hisashi over the phone for hours on end, her breath hitching between each muffled sob, oblivious to his scattered attempts to soothe her. She only hung up once morning arrived and it had officially been twenty-four hours since her child had disappeared--the required time frame before she could file a missing person’s report. She called the local police station right away, doing her best to hold herself together long enough to answer all of their questions and arrange a time to meet with an officer to provide them with more information. 

     After that, all she could do was wait. 

     Less than thirty-six hours later, she heard a knock on her door.

     “Ah-! Midoriya Inko?” the man in police uniform asked on her doorstep.

     “Y-Yes,” she gulped, swallowing hard past the tear-induced swelling in her throat. 

     “My name is Tsukauchi Naomasa. I believe you spoke with my partner Sansa Tamakawa at the station the other day regarding your son, Midoriya Izuku?”

     “Y-Yes. Yes, that sounds right,” Inko nodded, her grip on the door tightening and her other hand curling into a fist over her heart. “Have you… Have you learned anything?”

     The man seemed to hesitate slightly, a brief flicker of something like regret or even guilt passing through his eyes. “If I may, ma’am, I think you may want to sit down before I say anything more.”

     “I… I see…” she mumbled, cold dread writhing in her stomach to the point that she felt horribly nauseous. Eventually, she pulled her wits together enough to invite him inside before she wandered to the living room and sat heavily in the nearest chair. Her heart was racing, and she thought that her hands might be shaking too. Tsukauchi-keiji took a seat in the chair closest to her, turning his body so that he could meet her eyes.

     “Midoriya-san, this is going to be difficult for you to hear, but I don’t believe in dancing around the truth.”

     Inko didn't respond. She just clenched her fists into the fabric of her skirt, fighting to keep her breathing under control.

     “We found your son's school bag on the bridge overlooking the river. We haven't found a body, but… Midoriya-san, I'm afraid that preliminary evidence of your son’s disappearance points towards suicide.”

     Through all of the shock, the pain, and the horror of the detective’s revelation, some miniscule part of Inko’s brain felt grateful that he had suggested she sit down first, because the wave of dizziness that swept over her in that moment would have sent her crashing to the floor otherwise. As it was, she felt her world spin, blackness closing in around her, only coming to when she felt a pair of hands grasping hers, and a voice urgently reminding her how to breathe. 

     Everything after that was a blur. The suicide note that sounded nothing like the bright boy she raised. The cold investigation. Hisashi’s return home. The memorial service. The reception, when person after person expressed their ‘condolences’. Most of them felt… strangely empty. His teachers all seemed shifty-eyed, the kids walking behind their parents seemed confused and uncomfortable, and the parents themselves even more so. There were very few people that actually shed tears with her, very few who tried to remember the sweetness and optimism that was her son, like Bakugou Masaru and Mitsuki. (Katsuki was there too, but he didn’t say much, if anything. He seemed to be in a perpetual state of shock, his hands shaking, his eyes wide and staring, almost feral in their wildness.) Every one of them said essentially the same thing: I can’t believe Izuku would do this.

       I can’t believe that he would abandon you.

     There was one man that kind of stood out to her. He was tall and gaunt, with long blond hair and piercing blue eyes, and he walked with a slight slouch. She didn’t recognize him, but there was genuine regret, even pain in his eyes when it was his turn to step forward, take her hand, and tell her how deeply sorry he was for what had happened. The way he said it, it almost seemed like he blamed himself for her son’s death. She didn’t have much time to think on it though, because he soon stepped away, allowing the next person to come to the front.

     The aftermath was the worst part, though. Even though Hisashi stayed close to her from that point on, finding a local job so that she didn’t have to stay all day in an empty apartment, life had to go on and he couldn’t be with her all the time. During the long hours spent alone, sitting on the couch with the laundry basket of clean clothes and no energy to fold them, the memories of the whispers would come pouring in, no matter her attempts to keep her head above the floodwaters.

      “Quirkless… not uncommon…”

     “ … incidents of bullying…”

     “… didn’t notice…”

     “… never found a body…”

     “… didn’t say anything?”

     “… never took action…”

     “She essentially killed her own-”

      Knock knock!

     Inko startled out of her thoughts, staring at the front door in bewilderment. Another, slightly more timid knock sent her stumbling to her feet, her heart suddenly racing in anticipation. Could it…? Could it be him? She found herself scurrying to the door, breath hitching in her throat, tears already prickling in her eyes as she seized the knob-

     -to reveal a surly blond boy standing on the doorstep, still in his school uniform, his head bowed and his hands curled into stiff fists at his sides.

     “K-Katsuki?” Inko blinked in surprise, fighting to ignore the stab of disappointment in her gut. (What had she expected? Izuku was gone; she had to accept that.) “What are you doing here, dear?” Slowly, hesitantly, the boy raised his head to meet her gaze, and the short, green-haired woman went stiff with surprise.

     His jaw was clenched, each breath kept forcibly even, but there were tears pouring down his cheeks, and a deeper anguish and guilt than anything she had ever seen burning in his dark red gaze. “Oba…san,” he whispered, choking on the words. 

     Inko felt something like a chill settle in her heart. Katsuki hadn’t called her that since he was five years old.

     All of Inko’s motherly instincts came alive at once, shoving aside her own grief as she ushered him inside and sat him down on the couch, then went to the kitchen to grab him a glass of water (unfortunately she had yet to work up the willpower to go to the store and replenish their stock of orange juice) and a few cookies from a plate one of her other neighbors had brought over. Before long, she had bustled back and laid the cup and cookies on the coffee table, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

     “Katsuki? Sweetie?” she asked softly, gently laying a hand on his still-rigid arm. The boy twitched, but otherwise didn’t seem to react. The tears still dripped from his cheeks unheeded, the tremor throughout his body remained unchanged, and each breath was still taut and shaky. “Katsuki, talk to me please.”

     “M’... aul…”

     “What?”

     “‘s my fau…”

     “One more time?”

     “’S my fault!” Katuski snapped, his hand flailing to throw her off, his voice sharp and bitter with guilt and pain and anger and something dark that she didn’t dare name. “It’s all my fault; Deku died because of me!”

     “S-Sweetie… you’re not making sense,” Inko managed shakily, trying to reach out to him, but he shook his head vehemently, the action shaking his entire body so that she had to pull away again.

     “You don’t get it; no one gets it, if I… If I hadn’t… If I’d never…” The tears returned in earnest, flooding like a river as he slowly raised his gaze to hers so that she could clearly see the anguish in them. “If I’d never known him,” he whispered, “and if I hadn’t been so mean to him… If I hadn’t baited him…”

      Baited him? What does he…?

      Oh. Oh God… 

     Inko could feel her vision tunneling again, just like it had when Tsukauchi-keiji sat across from her and broke the news of her son’s fate. She stared without seeing, her breaths short and fast and weak and her heart beating wildly.

     Baited him. Katsuki had baited him. Katsuki had told him… He’d told her son to… 

     Drowning. She was drowning; she couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe-

     Katsuki stood up. 

     The movement was so sharp, so abrupt, that it startled her a little bit further away from the depths of panic threatening to swallow her whole. “I should go,” he mumbled tautly, turning sharply towards the door and stumbling slightly as his leg hit against the edge of the couch in the process.

     Inko wanted to let him leave. She wanted him gone so that she could think. So that she could process and stew… and hate him. She wanted to hate him, wanted someone to blame. She wanted a reason, a way to understand why. Why had her Izuku, her precious, optimistic little boy, died?

     So why? Why was her first instinct to reach out and grab Katsuki’s wrist and pull him back down onto the cushions beside her? He seemed confused, too, staring at her with those bright red eyes, raw and guilty and vulnerable and shadowed by that horrible emotion that she now forced herself to face: self-loathing. 

     Katsuki hated himself for what he’d done. For what he’d said. And in that moment she knew, deep down, why she’d pulled him back.

      It was because, had Izuku been here now, his first instinct, as always, would have been to save him. From pain, from grief, from his own despair, regardless of the circumstances. Just like when Katsuki had fallen off the log bridge and into the stream, when he had immediately--in spite of the bruises and burns and insults that he thought he'd kept hidden from her--rushed down and made sure that his friend was okay.

     If Izuku could do it, then so could she.

     Without a word, Inko scooted herself a little closer to the young man, then reached out and loosely wrapped her arms around his neck. Katsuki immediately stiffened, confused and tense and guilty and afraid, but he didn’t pull away, not even when she slowly drew him forward so that his head was resting in the small hollow of her shoulder. His breath hitched, and with it his whole body. Inko felt the muscles in his face twitching as he swallowed hard, and instinctively she reached up to gently card her fingers through his hair.

     That seemed to be the last straw for Bakugou Katsuki. A muffled sob escaped his throat and after that he simply couldn’t stop. He just wept. Wept and choked and apologized over and over again as his fingers curled in the spare fabric of her sweater, and she cried with him, clutching him a little bit closer to her.

     It wasn't much, but Inko hoped that it might be the first step towards healing for them both.

Chapter Text

     Katsuki walked with his hands shoved deeply into his pockets, making the conscious decision to ignore all of the noise and the hustle and bustle around him and just breathe. It was one of the few things his therapist had suggested that actually helped him rein in his near-constant anger and anxiety. Ironically, it helped if he tuned in to the faint, actually -constant ringing that followed him everywhere these days (a side effect of having explosions next to his ears from the age of five onward; he’d have to ask the support course for some kind of special ear plugs or hearing aids when he got into UA). Before, it had been one more reason to be angry. Now the white noise helped him to tune everything else out, including his own damning thoughts.

     It had been almost two years since Dek- rather, Izuku disappeared (and yet he still had a hard time getting his name right!). A lot had happened in that amount of time--he'd enrolled in an anger management course for youth, started drum lessons (it was a fun way to get out some of his aggression), changed schools, even made some new friends that actually kept him out of trouble--but he still refused to say it. Refused to think it. They’d never found a body, after all. He knew it was stupid--the kind of stupid that he would have to bring up with his therapist eventually--but there was still the nagging thought, the desperate hope that maybe there was some chance, no matter how slight, that the nerd was still alive. 

     Honestly, he still wasn’t certain why he insisted on believing that. He hadn’t gotten along with Izuku in years; they were hardly the friends that they used to be. Was it just guilt? The horrible pain of knowing that he, indirectly, killed someone? Of knowing that he had put that dim light of despair in Inko-obasan’s eyes? 

     He allowed himself a heavy sigh, tuning those thoughts out as well. They wouldn’t help him to get into UA. They wouldn’t help him to live out Izuku’s dream for him.

     It wasn't the sound, but the vibration against his hand that led him to pull his phone from his pocket, revealing the cheesily animated 'message' box on his lock screen. Rolling his eyes, he swiped up, unlocking the screen with his thumbprint, already knowing who it was from.

[Rocks For Brains]
1 Unread Message

hey man you coming?

yeah yeah calm down

cuz they have they have a new first person shooter game that your gonna love

hold your horses i said i was coming
be there in 5

see you soon

     Katsuki shoved the phone back into his pocket and set off at a slightly more brisk pace than before. He'd never admit it to the guy's face, but Kirishima was probably the best thing that had come out of his school transfer. His Hardening quirk was convenient for one, especially in the early days of his anger management therapy, and he had the energy and confidence to stand up against Katsuki's crap. If that wasn't enough, he was almost obnoxiously good-hearted, frustratingly patient, and just dense and asinine enough to see a surly, brooding boy in the corner of the cafeteria and decide they were going to be friends, no matter what Katsuki's thoughts may have been on the matter. The guy reminded him of Izuku in that sense.

     A flicker of anxiety clenched in his gut at the thought, but Katuski quickly clamped down on it and forced it into submission. This wasn't like the last time. Kirishima wasn't going to end up like Izuku. He refused to let that happen again.

     “Heh! Come on little Bluebird! Why don’t you fight back!”

     Katsuki's head snapped up, instantly alert at the jeer.

     “Stop it! You're hurting her!”

     His crimson eyes narrowed towards the park on his right. There was a small jungle gym covered in grade school brats, giggling and shrieking as they chased one another up ladders and down slides, surrounded by woodchips and then by a neatly-mown lawn. There were benches where their parents were chatting, not paying attention to any potentially disastrous situations. He couldn't see anything obviously wrong, but he knew that tone. Setting his jaw determinedly, he marched through the fence into the play area. 

     He found them in seconds: three bullies forming a loose ring around two kids, one huddled against the brick wall that had blocked his view up to that point, and the other positioning himself defiantly in front of them, even though his knees were shaking. The whole situation felt… disturbingly familiar.

     “What do you brats think you're doing?” he growled, and the three assailants spun towards him in surprise. The two on either side--a girl with black hair and a boy with shifty eyes--each took nervous steps backwards as they sized him up. Only the middle punk--a boy with bright red hair and sharp blue eyes--showed any signs of a backbone. 

     “Hey, stay out of it weirdo,” the bully huffed. “You have no business meddling with heroes!”

     “Ehhh?!” Katsuki leered, bending down and thrusting his face towards the redhead’s. The bully flinched at the sudden proximity, the first flickers of doubt in his eyes. “You knock a kid to the ground throwing out insults and you have the balls to call yourself a hero? ’Cause let me tell you, you little shit, that sounds like something a villain would do to me.”

     The boy's eyes blew wide and furious as he spluttered out a reply. “Y-You can't say that! My dad's the hero Vermillion-”

     “I don’t give a damn about who or what your father is, got it?” Katsuki snarled, pulling his hand from his pocket as his temper flared so the sharp pops of flame and light crackling across his palms wouldn’t set his jacket on fire--and, well, the shock and awe factor didn’t hurt either. “Just take a hike punk, before you make me do something we both end up regretting.”

     “C-Come on, Vas,” the other boy stuttered as he reached for his boss’s shoulder, his shifty eyes finally still and fixated on Katsuki’s still-smoking hand. “L-Let's just go.”

     “Yeah, this extra isn’t worth it,” the girl agreed, tossing her hair back as though it would hide the tremor in her voice. “And anyway, this park is lame. We can hang out at my place instead.”

     “Yeah, whatever,” the redhead huffed, shaking off his lackey’s (not his friend; kids like that didn’t have friends--Katsuki would know) hand and turning on his heel with all the arrogance a brat can muster. Katsuki watched them go, glowering until they were well and truly out of sight before turning back to the other pair of kids. 

     A dark-haired boy, the one that had been standing, was on his knees, gently pulling the bullies’s intended victim to her feet. She didn’t look any older than seven or maybe eight, with long blue hair to her waist and equally blue eyes. “Are you okay?” the boy asked softly. The girl simply nodded, scrubbing at her wet eyes. “Thanks for helping us,” he continued, looking up at Katsuki with silver eyes half-hidden under his fringe of shaggy, black hair.

     “Don't mention it,” the blond boy replied gruffly, kicking at the ground. “Does… Does that happen often?”

     The boy’s eyes slid back to the girl’s, sadness almost glowing in them. “Yeah,” he sighed eventually. “Kira’s quirkless, so…”

     Katsuki felt himself stiffen, and although he hoped that it didn't show, things just became way too close to home for comfort. “Well, uh, being quirkless isn’t… I mean, it’s not a bad thing,” he managed to force out, trying not to cringe at how stupid he sounded. 

      “I know that,” the boy sighed, apparently oblivious to the older boy’s uncertainty, “but they don't think so, even though All Might keeps reminding everyone that quirkless people are just like everyone else.”

     Another uncomfortable twinge gripped Katsuki’s chest at the realization that this boy was also an All Might fan (just one more reminder of him). He glanced away, rubbing the back of his head. All Might’s Quirkless Advocacy campaign had started just over a year ago, and it had certainly helped the general public's view of the quirkless. A part of Katsuki couldn't help but wish that All Might would have rolled it out sooner. Maybe then…

      Maybe then… 

     “Well, he’s right. Even if you’re quirkless, you still have your own hopes and dreams,” he said finally, “and you still have just as much a right as anyone to chase ’em.”

     The girl blinked up at him with those huge, luminous blue eyes. “Y-You really… You th-think so?” she whispered, barely even audible.

     “I know so,” Katsuki corrected her, maybe a little too sharply, but she didn’t seem too taken aback by it. In fact, she smiled shyly, even though she also ducked her head so that her hair hid her face. Her friend grinned encouragingly at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Katsuki felt a rueful smile twitch at the corner of his mouth as he watched the interaction. 

     That should've been me. “Hey kid.”

     “Yeah?” 

     “Be sure to stick close to her, got it? She’ll need a friend like you.”

     The boy blinked, clearly surprised, but then he smiled, those silver eyes of his bright and determined. “Don’t worry. I will.”

     Katsuki smirked through another twinge of regret, reached out to roughly tousle the boy’s hair, pat the girl's head a little bit more gently, and turned away. He felt the vibration in his pocket a moment later and, rolling his eyes, pulled out his phone and swiped up.

     “Geez, I said I was coming,” he grumbled.

      “Yeah. You said you’d be here in five minutes. That was almost fifteen minutes ago, Bakugou!”

      “Calm down Rocky, I just had to take care of something.”

      “Like what kind of something?”

     “None of your business, that’s what,” Katsuki snorted, glancing back towards the two kids heading towards the opposite side of the park and then allowing his eyes to drift a little further towards their destination. A frown tugged at his mouth as he saw a person standing nearby, watching them. They looked sketchy as hell, short and swamped in gray sweats and a black hoodie, hands shoved deeply into their pockets and a notebook tucked under their arm. The only identifying feature that he could make out were the strands of dark curly hair sticking out past the fabric that almost looked green in this lighting.

     All at once, he felt his heart stutter, his vision tunneling. It can't be… 

      “Bakugou, did you get into another fight? You did, didn’t you! I swear one of these days you’re gonna get in serious troub-”

      “I’m gonna be a bit later than I thought.”

      “Huh? Baku-”

      He didn’t wait for Kirishima to finish. He just hit the ‘end call’ button and took off running. “HEY!!” he yelled as he rushed past the two kids he’d helped out earlier. For a moment, the person seemed to freeze. Then he bolted, shooting down the street with the speed of a startled doe. “HEY HOLD ON A SEC!!!” In hindsight, it was probably a bad idea to try opening up a conversation with the stranger by charging at him, but that didn't stop Katsuki from redoubling his pace because he had to talk to him. 

     He had to know. 

     The guy was quick. Quick enough that Katsuki almost wondered if he had some kind of speed or agility type quirk because if not, he was hiding a lot of muscle under those sweats. Of course, he wasn’t so quick that he couldn't catch up with a few explosions, but that was a big no-no without a license, so Katsuki just gritted his teeth and forced himself to run faster. His quarry was about to turn onto a more populated street; if he didn’t hurry, then Katsuki would lose him in the crowd. Dammit, why did the kid have to be so short?! It was too easy for him to slip between people! But Katsuki was nothing if not tenacious. He managed to catch a flicker of gray and black ducking into an alleyway just ahead, and he all but dove after it to find-

     -nothing. There was nobody here. It was as though the guy had just… vanished. But that… That couldn’t be right. He had to be here, Katsuki had to talk to him!!

     “DAMN IT, DEKU!!” Katsuki bellowed before he had time to think it through. “WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU YOU FRICKIN' NERD?!?” He felt the miniature explosions crackling across his palms before he clenched them and slammed one fist against the brick wall of the building next to him (partially to vent his frustration, but partially because his heart was pounding from the chase and having a buildup of what was basically nitroglycerin on his hands was never a good idea), then slumped against it as something cold and heavy settled in the pit of his stomach. “Please,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand down his face. “Izuku, if you’re really still out there… Please, just… Just tell me if you’re still alive…”

     “Hold it right there!!”

     Katsuki's head snapped up at the cry, glancing further down the small street at the group of people sprinting towards him. He quickly pushed himself to his feet, still urgently trying to read the exact nature of the situation. There was something else, something positioned between him and the rapidly approaching group of people in gaudy outfits. Hang on, are those pro heroes? In that case, that amorphous thing rushing towards him-

     “Well kid, it's not ideal, but you'll do!”

     “Shi-!”

     All at once, Katsuki couldn't breathe. He could move, sorta, but it felt like he was thrashing in the middle of the ocean, a hundred feet deep, wholly unable to actually break the surface, and wholly unable to actually grab onto whatever had seized hold of him and force it to let him go. He could feel it moving though, swirling around him, somehow both untouchable and yet tightening around his wrists. He had to break free, before he died of suffocation. Gritting his teeth, he imagined the heat rushing through his blood and concentrating in his hands before, with an inarticulate bellow, he unleashed his power.

     The resulting explosions ripped through the sludge that held him captive, causing the creature to recoil sharply, pulling away from his hands and face just long enough for him to suck in a sharp breath through his nose before it rushed back, cutting off his air supply once again, that horrible squelchy voice cackling in his ear, the grip on his arms tightening, that disgusting liquid junk seeping into his nose and prying at his mouth.

     “Well it looks like I got the jackpot!” the villain crowed. “All I was hoping for was a hostage, but that power of yours looks too good to pass up!”

     “Hey, get away from that kid you creep!” a voice shouted, rushing over. One of the heroes probably. Something changed then, something terrifying: his quirk went off on its own, and someone screamed.

     Katsuki's eyes snapped open slightly and he twisted in place, frantically trying to see what had happened. One of the pros was staggering away, clutching an arm covered in blisters. 

      No.

     The villain was laughing now, thrusting his--and with it Katsuki's--hand towards the street-- towards the cautiously gathering civilians. He could feel his quirk building against his will, and with it the panic in his chest. 

      NO!!

     He barely managed to wrench his hand away in time, but he couldn't stop the explosion. The flames roared from his hand, slamming into the wall and blasting heat and debris from crumbling brick back into his face. The villain in his ear, in his head and in his frickin' body snarled in frustration. Katsuki could feel him trying to exert his control, forcing more explosions out of him and wrenching his arms in ways that he didn't know they could twist. He could feel his head getting foggy and his lungs burning just as brightly as the fires, probably from the lack of oxygen, although he could still vaguely hear people screaming in the background, hear the pros shouting for everyone to stand back and let the heroes handle it but if the heroes were gonna handle it, then why weren't they doing anything?! He was gonna hurt someone, his quirk was gonna hurt someone and he could feel his consciousness fading fast and there was nothing he could do about it but this was a fight that he couldn't lose because he had to protect them, he couldn't let anyone else get hurt, he couldn't but it was too late and he was going to die-

     “Heteromorphic or perhaps a transformation quirk, apparently with further emitter-like properties in body possession and forceful quirk activation.”

      What…?

     “The initial explosion did cause him to back off temporarily, but didn't seem to cause any actual damage, so the flame aspect of Explosion doesn't mean much to this guy, just the impact.”

      I… know that voice… 

     “Of course, he's wary of a direct attack now, not to mention that he has at least limited control of the victim's body and quirk, but if he can summon even limited power, maybe there's a way to attack indirectly, such as through the wind pressure? Or perhaps he has a weak point, such as his eyes?”

     Katsuki forced his eyes open, pushing past the insistent grasp of unconsciousness, and for an instant, he could see a shadowy figure and two bright pricks of radioactive green light, looming out of the flickering shadow cast by his own flames and seeming to penetrate his very soul with just a glance.

     “Well, it's your move now, Kacchan.”

      Kacchan?

     He didn't really think about what he did next. Honestly, in his half-conscious state, he barely even remembered what he did. All he knew for sure was that the effort to lace his fingers together before setting off the biggest explosion he could manage was a battle won on sheer adrenaline. He roared in pain as much as the sludge villain as the impact crashed through him, but the wind pressure of the condensed blast had the effect he'd been hoping for. His assailant's amorphous body was blown off of his arms, freeing him enough to reach back and fire off the sloppiest, most frantic explosion he'd ever created.

     But it worked.

     The shriek of pain that resulted from his attack would have had Katsuki clapping his hands over his ears under any other circumstances. But just then, as the villain peeled off of him, clutching his eyes, all the boy could do was collapse, coughing and retching and dragging in one shuddering gasp after another until the world stopped spinning and he could finally breathe through the fires in his lungs.

      Izuku.

     Groggy and dazed though he was, Katsuki fought past the leaden weight in his limbs to lift himself a little bit more upright, his eyes desperately searching the alley for another sign of-

     “Bakugou!!”

     “What do you think you're doing, kid?!”

     “I'LL KILL YOU FOR THAT YOU LITTLE- AGH!!”

     Katsuki flinched as he felt someone grab his arm, hauling him to his feet before he was half-carried, half-dragged towards the safety of the main road. Weakened though he was, he found himself resisting them, his head craning back to stare over his shoulder, eyes still frantically seeking to pierce the flame-shrouded darkness past the villain as they pulled their hands away from reddened eyes.  

     Whether it was a shade born or blood or burns, he didn't want to think about.

     “Come on dude, work with me. I have to get you out of here!” a voice grumbled next to his ear. Katsuki finally tore his eyes away from whence he'd come, instead peering unsteadily up into a pair of bright red eyes, almost hidden by a fringe of over-long, black hair.

     “K-Kirishima?” he groaned weakly. “What are you…” His friend barely spared him a glance before redoubling his pace, practically sprinting by the time they reached the barrier the heroes had created to keep the civilians back. Katsuki vaguely heard a few shouts of, “that was far too reckless!” and “what the heck were you thinking?” but he didn't have the mental awareness to discern who was yelling at who. “Wait…” he mumbled, still dazed. “What about…?”

     “Give him here!”

     Katsuki blinked a little more of the bleariness from his eyes as someone in a paramedic's uniform rushed forward, pulling him away from Kirishima. He shook his head slightly, still trying to turn back towards the alley where the pro heroes were starting to move in now that they weren’t dealing with a hostage situation. “Wait!” he croaked again, a little bit more insistently, shoving weakly against the paramedic’s hands. “Wait, there’s someone else!”

     “Just calm down, young man. You’re just a little disoriented. Take a seat here while we check you for any injuries.”

     “But he was there; I saw him!”

     “Bakugou, buddy, just calm down,” Kirishima interrupted shakily, gripping Katuski’s shoulder as involuntary explosions popped across his hands.

     “No, Kirishima, I saw him! I saw Izuku!”

     His friend froze. Kirishima didn't know everything about what had happened, didn't fully understand the reasons behind his guilt and trauma, but his eyes still softened. “Buddy… I know you were worried, and this probably brought back some really bad memories for you, but there wasn’t anyone else down there. I promise everyone’s fine.”

     “High levels of stress can cause a person to develop an… overactive imagination.”

     “I wasn't-!”

     A cheer cut him off, dragging his eyes back towards the alley. The heroes were victorious, it would seem. Good. 

     Katsuki shoved his way past Kirishima, ignoring the alarmed exclamations of the paramedic. “Hey man, wait up!” his friend yelped, chasing after him as he wove and pushed through the crowd. With the danger gone and the heroes flexing in the spotlight, hardly anyone cast him so much as a second glance as Katsuki ducked back into the alley, closely followed by his overbearingly concerned friend. 

     “Dude, Bakugou, this is insane; it might still be dangerous!” Kirishima cried frantically. Katsuki felt him draw another breath to voice another plea for reason, but he was brusquely ignored in favor of-

     “Oof!” his friend grunted in surprise when he smacked straight into Katsuki's broad back. “What the heck, man? You… You okay?”

     Katsuki shakily stepped forward, bending over to gather a dirty, slightly scuffed notebook from the ground, the front marked with familiar handwriting. “I… I have to go,” he mumbled, almost in a daze. “I have to get home.”

     “Um… Are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital, dude?”

     “Meet you at the arcade another time.”

     “Dude, wait! Bakugou!”

     Katsuki didn't answer. He didn't even glance back as he started running, racing faster and faster until he was heading towards home at a dead sprint. His breaths were coming in ragged gasps by the time he reached a familiar stairwell, which he took two at a time. Gulping air like water, he threw the door open without knocking, barely conscious of the startled squeak from the other side of the room. 

     “K-Katsuki! Oh my goodness, I just saw the news; are you okay?! Does your mother know you're okay? Katsuki, sweetie, please answer me!” a familiar voice fret anxiously while soft hands fluttered close to his cheeks. Unable to speak, he thrust his find towards her.

     “Wh-What's this?” Inko-obasan managed, accepting the object.

     “F-Found it,” Katsuki gasped back, leaning heavily against the doorframe as he sucked in air. “In… In the alley. I found it.”

     “Katsuki, what-?” Abruptly, she froze, just as he had done, as her eyes finally focused on the title. With trembling fingers, she reached out, slowly tracing the characters of the words Quirk Analysis No. 32, General. 

     “You remember, right?” he asked softly, his heart still pounding, but his lungs finally starting to overcome the burn of his race to get there. “When Izuku disappeared, he only had eleven.”

Chapter Text

     Yuuga was terrified.

     Not that it showed. He'd taken great pains to keep it from showing. He had fussed and fretted in the mirror until he was certain that his eyes shone sufficiently bright and his hair was styled in its usual perfect wave, then pulled on his freshly washed and pressed uniform, donned his silver backpack, and headed out with a cheery wave and a call of, "Adieu, maman!" He beamed at anyone that glanced his way as he all but skipped down the street, dancing and weaving past fellow commuters as he made his way to the metro.

     But that didn't change the fact that Yuuga was completely and utterly terrified. 

     Today was the day: the day of the UA entrance exam, the day that he would have a chance to start his journey towards heroics and acceptance, despite his incompatibility with his own quirk.

     He was ready.

      Right?

     UA was even bigger than he had imagined, and it twinkled at least as brightly as he did. He wasn't certain whether that was exciting or just… even more intimidating than he had already anticipated. There were easily hundreds of students pushing their way through the massive front gates, wearing all variety of colors or uniforms from all over the country (he even caught sight of one boy wearing plain gray sweats and a black jacket before he was lost in the crowd; maybe he'd been homeschooled before?).

     People waved and ran up to friends, babbling with a nervous energy (and in some cases violent, as with one scruffy-looking blond boy when one of his friends, a boy with black hair, threw an arm over his shoulders and a girl with bright pink skin poked him in the side a few times. He didn't catch the full conversation, but he did hear the boy snapping something about, "Get offa me, Rocky! And quit snickering, Panda Eyes!"). Yuuga wished that he himself had someone like that, but he was the only person from his school applying. And even if he weren't, he doubted any of them would have wanted to chat. 

     But why wouldn't they? He was an icon of beauty and grandeur, one of the greatest future heroes entering UA!

      …Right?

     The lecture hall everyone was ushered into was absolutely massive, easily large enough to contain the entire student body and then some if needed. He ended up squarely at the center of the hall, leaning primly against his folded hands as his violet eyes darted around the room, taking in as much as he could, just in case this was the last time he had the opportunity to gaze upon such hallowed halls.

     Not that it would be. He would make it in. Of course he would.

     "GREETINGS, LITTLE LISTENERS!!! WELCOME TO MY SHOW TODAY!!!"

     Yuuga jumped in his seat as a man with wild blond hair gelled up so it looked like une banane, un laid leather suit with a popped collar, and a heavy collar-like something around his neck stepped to the front of the stage, grinning broadly before shouting something in English that nobody seemed to understand, despite his expectant look. 

     The hero Present Mic, non? He had a unique sense of sparkle, Yuuga supposed, but it was hardly elegant.

     The pro hero took the general lack of enthusiasm in stride, shrugging and continuing in a slightly more reasonable tone of voice, "What a refined response. Well, little listeners, it's my job to present to you the rundown of the exam today! First of all, you will all be taking the same written exam here in this auditorium! Afterwards, you'll be splitting into three different groups depending on which of the practical exams you'll be taking!" A low murmur echoed through the hall at that, with several other students hushing the talkers and creating even more noise in the process. The man on stage simply beamed.

     "THAT'S RIGHT, FOLKS!!! I'm sure that most of you have heard the rumors! This year we have a brand new test for all you little listeners that may be quirkless or have quirks unsuited to our other test! So now, I'm gonna give you all a brief rundown for how this'll work:

     "First of all, after the written portion of the exam, all those here on recommendation are gonna head thataway, since you've already had your interviews and practical test. The rest of y’all should’ve gotten an exam ticket when you came in with your examinee number and test location. All you little listeners that have been assigned to Battle Center H will be heading through those doors over there as soon as the exam time is over, where you will meet your proctor, and they will explain the new test to you! All the rest of you will stay right where you are, and I’ll be back to give you the details of your practical! Now then, it’s time for THE WRITTEN EXAM!!!! You’ll have two hours to complete this test! Goes without saying, but cheating is STRICTLY PROHIBITED, so keep your eyes to yourself! Until then, stay tuned! YEAH!!!”

     Yuuga’s heart leaped in his chest as what seemed to be a series of drones appeared from one of the doors that the announcer had indicated earlier, spreading out and passing out packets of papers to all of the different examinees. The moment that they were all given their exams, a clock appeared on the big screen on stage, showing two hours before it began counting down.

     The written exam may well have been one of the hardest tests that Yuuga had ever taken in his entire life. Not that it mattered, because he was certain that he had passed. (Completely, absolutely certain, mmhm.) Before long, the drones had collected the tests once more, and around a third of the students in the auditorium had started filing through the respective doors to the locations that the announcer guy had directed them to before. The young man watched them go, a strange mixture of emotions twisting his stomach. Was it nerves? Maybe… envy…? 

     By the time the drones returned to pass out a single leaf of paper and Present Mic reappeared, Yuuga’s heart was stuck in his throat and he was eager for some form of distraction. 

     “WELCOME BACK, LITTLE LISTENERS!!” he boomed, and Yuuga winced. The man needed a little more volume control. "Now, let me give you the rundown of the practical exam! You will essentially be conducting ten-minute urban mock-battles at seven different locations, marked on your examinee cards! You'll be allowed to take whatever support items you need, as well as have the chance to change into the workout clothes you should have all brought with you, OKAY?!"

      Très bon… 

     "Aw man!! None of us are in the same battle center!" a voice behind him pouted. Yuuga glanced over his shoulder to discover that the trio of students he'd noticed earlier were seated behind him. The girl with the pink skin had obviously been the speaker, her expression reflecting her tone as she glowered at the card in her hand. The black-haired boy beside her shrugged, grinning ruefully. He had sharp teeth, like a shark's, but his expression was too warm for them to be intimidating. 

     "Idiots, they probably did that on purpose," the blond kid huffed. "They don't want us teaming up with our friends."

     "Aw, are we friends, Blasty?" the pink girl beamed teasingly, to which the blonde simply rolled his eyes, mumbling under his breath.

     "There are three types of faux villains in each battle center!" the pro hero continued, recapturing Yuuga's attention as three silhouettes appeared on the screen, each labeled as 1p, 2p, and 3p respectively. "You earn points for each of them based on their level of difficulty! Your goal is to use your quirks to destroy these villains! But just remember to keep things heroic--no attacking other hopefuls, ya' dig?!"

     Yuuga wouldn't deny that he felt an odd sense of relief at that, reaching down to lightly brush his hand against his support belt. Fighting robots meant that he wouldn't have to expend unnecessary energy attempting to control the output. He could just fire his laser as many times as possible before his stomach started giving out. And ten minutes? He could last for that amount of time.

      Hopefully.

     "May I ask a question?!"

     Every eye in the room was drawn to a tall young man standing straight up, his hand ramrod-straight in the air. "GO FOR IT LITTLE LISTENER!" the announcer grinned, shooting finger guns in the student's direction. 

     "On the handout, there are four types of Villains shown!" the boy announced, emphatically waving the paper to demonstrate his point. "If that is a misprint, then UA, the most prestigious school in Japan, should be ashamed of its mistake!"

     Yuuga almost choked, his violet eyes bulging. Mon dieu… Was this kid for real?! He wasn't the only one thinking along those lines either. A quick glance around showed that quite a number of people in the room were gaping at him. But the other boy continued, apparently oblivious to the stares. "We examinees are here because we wish to become the most exemplary of heroes, thus we expect the academy of our choice to take matters just as seriously!!"

     "Well, Examinee 7-1-1-1, thanks for calling in with your request!" the announcer grinned in turn, indicating a new silhouette that had appeared on the screen. “The final type of villain is worth zero points! It’s just an obstacle we’ll be throwin’ in your way! There’s one in every battle center, but I recommend my listeners try to avoid it and focus on the ones at the top of the charts!”

     “I see. Thank you very much for your clarification, sir! Excuse my interruption!” the serious student bowed deeply, then sat back down. 

     “ALRIGHTY THEN that’s all for me today, so if you’re ready to get going, I’ll close with a little present: our school motto! As General Napoleon Bonapart once laid down-” Yuuga perked up at the mention of his fellow frenchman “-‘a true hero is one who overcomes life’s misfortunes’--now that’s a tasty soundbite for ya’! Now, are you ready to go beyond?! LET’S HEAR A PLUS ULTRA!!!”

     The silence was positively deafening.

     “GOOD LUCK!!!”

.oOo.

      Si vulgaire! Yuuga thought in a huff as he stumbled through the massive double doors leading into the walled city-scape, Present Mic’s voice echoing behind him as he ran. 

     “GO GO GO PEOPLE!! DO YOU EXPECT A COUNTDOWN FOR EVERYTHING?!?! BECAUSE LEMME TELL YA’, THAT’S NOT HOW THE REAL WORLD WORKS!!! YOU'RE WASTIN' AIR TIME HERE!!!!” 

      Alright Yuuga, reste calme, he thought to himself, darting down an alley in order to split away from the crowd of students. He needed a chance to distinguish himself, after all. A chance to let his natural sparkle shine through to the prestigious faculty of UA high school. When the first robot, painted with a number two on one side, zipped around the corner, he forced himself to beam at it, rather than cringe as was his first instinct. With an elegant twirl, he released his quirk, letting the naval laser fly so that it smashed straight through the metal hull of the ‘villain’.

     And so he continued on. At one point, he had to save another student from a one point villain. The kid wore a tank top, shorts and an expression like he’d just looked the devil himself in the eye. Oh please. Yuuga couldn’t help but smirk at him as he cooed, a little mockingly, “Merci beacoup! We make a great team with you as my decoy! Although I doubt I'll be seeing much of you in the future! Adieu!!” With that robot, he had twenty-eight points. When there was little more than two minutes remaining, he was up to thirty-five.

     And then all hell broke loose.

     The CRASH!! and BOOM!! of miniature explosions, shattering glass, and cracking concrete split the air of the combat arena. As the various applicants turned with mixed curiosity and fear towards the source of the chaos, a mounting sense of panic quickly overcame the group--and Yuuga was ashamed to admit that he was no exception. When the ten-story tall robot appeared, much closer to him than he was comfortable with, he stumbled backwards and fell flat upon his derrière. He knew that he couldn’t escape in time, and there was no possible way that his laser could destroy something that big after all the use he’d already put it through, so instead he huddled against the wall, half-concealed by some of the debris that had come crashing to the pavement with the monstrous robot’s appearance, some animal instinct warning him to remain utterly frozen in the hopes that the prédateur would pass him by.

     “Ow!” a voice cried, and something hard and cold dropped into the pit of Yuuga’s stomach as he saw a fallen girl, trapped in the middle of the road under some of the rubble, directly in the robot’s path. He… he should do something. Should run forward and help; should save her! But he couldn't move. He couldn't even scream. All he could do was sit and tremble and watch her-

     "DIE!!!" a voice roared from outside his line of sight, accompanied by a heart-stopping BANG!!!!! and a blast of light and heat that he could feel from some one hundred meters away. A moment later, the scruffy looking blond boy from before quite literally exploded into view, landing hard a few meters away from the fallen girl and tumbling into a roll with the force of the impact. He managed to scramble to his feet alongside her, shoving his shoulder against the collapsed debris and using the entirety of his body strength to lift it up.

     Distantly, Yuuga noticed the smoke rising from his palms and wrists and wondered if he wasn't using his hands because they were too badly injured from that last explosion. 

      Does he have incompatibility with his quirk, too?

     "Move it, Round Cheeks!!" the boy barked, his teeth gritted with the effort of keeping the slab of stone off of her. She quickly snapped her mouth closed, pulling her leg free and rolling out of the way so that he could let it drop. It crashed back to the ground a moment later as the boy pulled his fellow examinee roughly to her feet, him grimacing when their hands came into contact-- so I was right about him being in pain. He started to pull her away from the zero pointer, but when she staggered with another cry of pain and almost fell, he stopped. Yuuga could see them talking, glancing back towards the robot as their mouths moved rapidly, but he couldn't hear either of them at this distance. He saw the girl pointing towards the crater he'd left behind in the middle of the road, then the boy shook his head, gesturing with his smoking hands. 

     The robot was less than five meters away.

     Suddenly the girl wrapped her arms around him, pressing one hand to his back and the other to her own forearm, a faint pink glow visible even from this distance. "Then do it now!" the girl shouted, her eyes clenched shut. The boy grit his teeth, thrust his hands out and created another explosion with a bellow of pain. It wasn't anywhere near as powerful as the one from before, but somehow the force still sent them flying through the air at dangerous speeds, rapidly gaining distance between themselves and the monster. 

     But it wasn’t fast enough. The beast had already retracted a fist for a punch; now, all it had to do was adjust its aim and throw it. Yuuga heard a sharp scream escape his own throat before he clapped a hand over his mouth, watching as though in slow motion as the massive limb rushed inexorably closer.

     One meter away. A half a meter. A few inches.

     And its arm exploded.

     Yuuga flinched, gaping in shock as the metal of the robot’s arm suddenly buckled all the way up to its shoulder, sharp bursts of electricity and flame consuming the limb in a rush. The impact threw up a cloud of dust to match the one when the giant first appeared, scattering already-fallen debris in all directions. The robot staggered backwards as well, thrown entirely off-balance by the sheer force of the blow-- directly towards him.  

     The young frenchman squawked in terrified alarm, helplessly throwing his hands over his face in what he knew would be a fruitless attempt to defend himself. The robot’s foot came down towards his head- 

     And bounced back inches away from it. 

     There was no other way for him to describe it. The robot simply hit some invisible barrier and toppled backwards, crashing to the ground. Bemused, Yuuga glanced around, trying to discover the source of his rescue. It couldn’t have been the explosions boy or the girl--they were currently falling to earth some hundred meters or more away. But then… who?

     He was only startled out of his search when he heard the matching grunts of pain as the boy and girl sent flying from the earlier explosion hit the pavement once again, skidding several feet and likely getting some major road burn. The pair lay still, panting for several moments, then the girl abruptly rolled to the side and vomited in a most inelegant fashion. Yuuga shuddered and turned away just as an alarm blared over the PA system, followed by the voice of Present Mic. “AND THAT’S A WRAP!! TO ALL MY LISTENERS, THANK YOU AND HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY!!!”

     Slowly, Yuuga staggered to his feet, concentrating on breathing and fighting to get his trembling body back under control. He had to sparkle. He had to shine. He had to hide how terrified he’d truly been, to impress the judges.

      I have to pass!

     Off to one side, the other examinees were starting to gather around where that explosion boy was shaking the shoulder of the girl he’d saved, his face twisted with a bizarre mixture of concern and indignant exasperation. “Oi, don’t you dare give out on me now, Round Cheeks!” he yelled. “Come on, get up already!”

     “Are… Are you guys okay?”

     “Dude, how’d you do that?”

     “You can create explosions that powerful?!”

     “Freakin’-! Shut up, would you; I can't hear myself think!! Oi, Round Cheeks!!”

     “Calm down, sonny! She’ll be just fine!” 

     Everyone jumped in surprise as an elderly woman in what appeared to be a doctor-themed hero’s costume walked onto the exam grounds, leaning on a cane shaped like a syringe. “Well done, everyone! You’re heroes in my eyes, every one of you!” she continued brightly as she approached the scowling blonde and the unconscious girl next to him. 

     Yuuga tried for a confident smile as he recognized her. “That mademoiselle,” he confided in one of the other, less-well-informed exam goers, “is the heart of UA. The Youthful Heroine: Recovery Girl! Her quirk is a très magnifique boost of healing power. She can save anyone months of recovery time, and she’s the only reason UA can get away with such reckless exams as these.”

     “Oh my,” the school nurse sighed wearily as she knelt by the explosions boy. “You pushed yourself a bit hard there, didn’t you sonny?”

     “Get off my case, granny; it’s not like I had a freakin’ choice,” he responded, glowering at the smoke still wafting from his arms. 

     Recovery Girl chuckled at that. “Well, as long as you know what you’re doing. Frankly, after taking down that monstrosity, I’m surprised you aren’t worse off.”

     “The hell are you talkin’ about?” her patient frowned as she took one of his arms, letting her inspect them with a critical eye. 

     She frowned right back at him, as did everyone else in the battle center, Yuuga included. “That final explosion, of course,” she replied. “The one that destroyed the robot’s arm.”

     “I didn’t do that.”

     “What?”

     “My arms were already pretty ruined by the blast I used to get in close. Firing off another one would've left me seriously messed up. That’s why Round Cheeks used her gravity quirk on the both of us, so one of my smaller explosions could still do the job of getting us clear. Didn’t quite work, but it was the best we had in the moment.”

     “But then… who destroyed the zero pointer?” someone muttered. Yuuga glanced around the crowd, from the speaker to the serious boy that had asked such a blunt question in the exam hall to Recovery Girl and back to the explosions boy she’d just planted a kiss on--much to his apparent distaste--but no one seemed to have the answer. Unbidden, Yuuga’s thoughts turned to the way the robot failed to hit him, when by all rights he should have been crushed. Could it be that whoever his mysterious savior was, they had saved all three of them?

     Would he ever know for certain?

Outtake:

     Shouta yawned widely on his way up to the observation room. The first of the new tests would be starting in a few minutes, and he and Nemuri were meant to be the primary judges for the new practical exam, considering that their own quirks would have placed them in it. He already had his eyes on a couple of them, namely that kid with indigo hair and a brainwashing quirk and the blue-eyed quirkless boy that had come to the test with a long wooden cane as a support item. There were a handful of other quirkless kids that had signed up for the test, but he was the only one that seemed to have any kind of potential. 

     “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

     “Wha’d’ya mean? It’s not like I’m breaking any rules or anything.”

     Shouta paused, glancing down the hallway to his left. There was a girl with bright pink skin and hair standing outside of the girls’ locker room with her arms folded over her chest, practically radiating righteous fury as she stared down a boy that stood about as tall as her waist with spherical purple hair; obviously it had something to do with his quirk. Other girls, already dressed in their workout gear, slipped out behind her, casting nervous glances towards the purple-haired punk. 

     Shouta didn’t miss the way his eyes seemed to follow the chests of the girls walking past him. 

     “I don’t give a damn if it’s against the rules or not! Try to peep in the changing rooms again, and I will melt you into the ground!”

     “What’s the big deal? Jus’ ‘cause I have an appreciation for the bootifulness of a girl’s body?”

     “Problem here?” Shouta asked warningly, suppressing the urge to activate his quirk. The longer he maintained the image of being a scruffy hobo, the more effective his reveal would be when he taught his class not to judge a book by its cover. Still, the aura of exhausted irritation he gave off was usually enough to make kids this age nervous around him.

     “This pervert tried to sneak into the girls’ locker room!” the pink-skinned girl snapped the moment she had overcome her shock, pointing accusingly towards the purple-haired kid. Hobo or not, he was obviously some kind of faculty member, so it made sense. 

     “Seriously, just back off,” the boy grumbled, pouting and turning back down the hall to slink away. “It’s not like I actually saw anything.”

     Shouta glared after the boy, memorizing his appearance and attempt at a swagger (which honestly came across as more of a waddle, given his height). The brat could be trouble going forward. He’d have to keep an eye on him.

     “Thanks for the help,” the pink-skinned girl grinned with enough energy to rival Hizashi or Nemuri, bowing to him. 

     “It’s my job, kid,” Shouta shrugged back, hunching a little bit more and rubbing the back of his head as he yawned. “Anyway, get changed and be snappy about it. You’ll be late for your exam.”

     “Yessir!” the girl grinned, saluting cheerfully before slipping inside the changing rooms herself. Shouta stood guard for a little while longer to make sure the pervert didn’t come back, ignoring the curious glances of the examinees as they headed to their respective battle centers. But eventually, he couldn’t wait any longer and so he wandered up to the observation room.

     “Took you long enough, Shouta. What kept you?” Nemuri waved as he entered the room.

     “Nothing exciting,” he shrugged back, flopping into his own seat. “Anyone stand out to you?”

     “I like the look of the invisible girl,” Nemuri smirked up at the screen, twirling her hair around her finger. “She understands the importance of efficiency over shyness.”

     “Oh?” Shouta turned curiously towards the screen. Nemuri pointed to a figure that appeared to be in the process of removing their clothes. If not for her sports bra, Shouta wouldn’t even have known for certain that she was a girl, considering that she was completely invisible from head to toe. “Mutation or emitter?”

     “Mutation, according to her file. She’s going second, so she’s getting herself ready now.”

     “Hm. Sounds interesting,” Shouta mused, settling in. “Well, let’s get this over with.”

Chapter Text

      Class 1-A. Geez, why is this place such a maze?

     Hitoshi hoped that he didn't look as lost as he was. It didn't seem possible, but somehow UA felt way bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside. He found it eventually, just a few minutes before the bell for homeroom was supposed to ring. He could already hear the buzz of conversation on the other side of the sliding door, and resisted the impulse to groan with the impending exhaustion of socializing. Setting his jaw, Hitoshi pulled the door open and stepped inside. 

     "Get your feet down from the desk! It's disrespectful!" a boy with dark, blue-toned hair and square glasses was shouting at another kid with ash blond hair and a mocking sneer. 

     "Mind your own damn business ya arrogant bastard," he snorted, ignoring the boy's spluttered response. "Hey, Rocky! What the hell is up with your hair? I'm gonna have to change your contact in my phone it's so ridiculous!"

     "Aw come on, man, I think it's cool!" Another boy with bright red hair gelled into spikes and sharp teeth like a shark grinned back. A girl with pink skin and black sclera promptly glomped onto him, grinning at their evidently-mutual crass friend.

     "Yep! We're Horn Buddies, see?" she beamed, pointing to the yellow horns protruding from her hair. 

     "Yeah, whatever Panda Eyes," the blonde snorted, the barest hint of a smirk touching the corner of his mouth. "Just remember I can't stand PDA."

     "Wh-What?!?"

     "D-Dude, come on, you know that's not what we meant!!"

     Hitoshi blinked at the bizarre interaction, more than slightly overwhelmed by their extroverted-ness and silently vowing to keep himself well away from that social circle. Then he realized that his seat was just a couple of chairs behind the crass blonde's and suppressed a groan because of course it was. Resigning himself to his fate, Hitoshi began to make his way in that direction. 

     At least, that had been his intention. The small body colliding with him and knocking him off his feet kind of put a damper on that, though. Although somehow, he never reached the floor. Instead, he just floated somewhere halfway between catching his balance and losing it. It was… rather disorienting.

     "Ohmygosh, I'm so sorry, are you okay?!" a girl's voice exclaimed, a hand quickly appearing in his field of vision and correcting his orientation with the floor. Hitoshi glanced up with as much indifference as he could muster to meet a pair of anxious brown eyes and bright pink cheeks framed by short brown hair. "I'm so so so sorry; I thought I was gonna be late so I was in a hurry and the door was open a-and I wasn't looking where I was going, and-"

     "Calm down, I'm fine," Hitoshi grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. "Although I would like to be let down now."

     "O-Oh, right!" she squeaked, pressing the pads of her fingers together with a look of concentration. "Release," she muttered, and he dropped easily back to the floor. Then she shook her head and smiled brightly at him, extending her hand once more in what was obviously an attempt at a clean slate. "Uh, anyway, I'm Uraraka Ochaco. What's your name?"

     He blinked at her, at her warm smile and her bright eyes. Oh no. She was one of those types; he could already tell. One of the super peppy ones that was going to be his friend or die trying (at least until she learned what his quirk was). Still…  

     "Shinsou Hitoshi," he sighed back, taking her hand if only for the sake of appearances. He may not have come to UA to make friends, but he had no intention of making only enemies.

     "Well, it's great to meet you, Shinsou-kun!" she replied brightly, her eyes scrunching up with the sincerity of her smile. He was in the middle of deciding whether that was what was making him nauseous or if it was just because he'd skipped breakfast that morning when a voice sounded from the floor behind her.

     "If you're just here to make friends, then you can pack up your stuff now. If not, then welcome to UA's Hero Course." Uraraka froze, eyes wide as she turned to gape at the speaker. Frankly, Hitoshi couldn't blame her for her reaction.

     Whoever this guy was, he looked more like a caterpillar than a human, encased in a mummy-style yellow sleeping bag and lying on the floor just outside of their room. He had long, scruffy black hair and a dead-to-the-world stare that Hitoshi related to on a spiritual level, and when he pulled down the zipper of his bag enough to finish drinking one of those jelly pouches that grade school kids were all over, he could make out a black top and an over-long, white-gray scarf nestled around his shoulders in dozens of broad loops. He seemed vaguely familiar…

     Oh. This was the proctor for his practical exam. The guy who'd explained the test to him and his fellow hopefuls before flatly declaring that ultimately he didn't care what they did or even if they passed as long as they didn't kill anyone. Hitoshi still wasn't sure what to think of him. Maybe this was his chance to decide.

     With a weary sigh and rolled eyes, the man pulled the zipper down the rest of the way, slowly making his way to his feet. "It took eight seconds for all of you to shut up. That's not gonna work. Time is precious. Rational students would understand that."

     "Who is this guy?" Hitoshi heard someone mumble behind him. When he glanced back, he was fairly certain it was a blond kid with a black streak vaguely in the shape of a lightning bolt through his bangs. "Is he a pro?"

     "Must be," another boy with black hair and bulbous elbows shrugged back.

     Another tired sigh; somehow, Hitoshi suspected that the man on the floor had heard every word. His next comment basically confirmed it. "Hello, I'm Aizawa Shouta, your teacher."

     "T-Teacher?" a few different voices sputtered, and the man rolled his eyes again.

     "Right, let's get to it," he grunted, reaching into his sleeping bag and producing a pile of blue, white, and red track uniforms, stylized so that the letters U and A were marked into the fabric, vaguely mimicking the school's logo. "Put these on and head outside. Changing rooms are around the corner. Today if you would," Aizawa added when everyone hesitated.

     Muttering uncertainly, Hitoshi and his new classmates stepped forward, accepting the uniforms as they passed through the doorway and headed towards the aforementioned changing rooms. He hung towards the back of the pack, content to watch and observe over being in the thick of the crowd. Of the twenty students in the class, fourteen were boys and six were girls. Most of them didn't look like much, but then again, he didn't look like much either. Still, that didn't keep the giant of a young man with six arms or the boy with a bird head or the girl with pink skin and matching hair from standing out any less. 

     Nor did it keep him from noticing the crass blonde grab a short boy with purple hair by the ear and drag him away from the girl's changing room with a growl that sounded suspiciously like, "Don't even think about it."

      Hm…  

     He caught a few names while they all changed. That noisy blonde that always seemed to be in the thick of things was Bakugou, and his red-headed, shark-toothed friend was Kirishima (or maybe Weird Hair or Rocky, but probably Kirishima). The blue-haired boy with the square glasses loudly announced himself as Iida Tenya at some point, but before he could insist on everyone else's names, they'd all finished changing and it was time to go. (No one wanted to risk discovering how much of a temper Aizawa might have this early in the game.)

     The girls were already out there by the time they arrived. That brown-haired girl, Uraraka, waved cheerily at him, then, slightly bizarrely, she positively beamed at Bakugou, her eyes lighting up with recognition. Even more bizarrely, the grumpy boy sighed and nodded back in reluctant acknowledgement before the both of them turned their focus to their teacher, who stood in front of the group. 

     "About time you got here. Any later and I would have expelled the whole lot of you," he droned offhandedly. Lightning Blonde tried to laugh, but at Aizawa's glare, it quickly died in his throat. "Anyway, we're gonna have a Quirk Assessment Test."

     "A what?!"

     "But orientation!" Uraraka protested anxiously. "We're gonna miss it!"

     "If you really wanna make the big leagues, then you can't waste time in pointless ceremonies," their teacher bit out, instantly silencing the entire class. "Here at UA, we're not tethered to foolish traditions. That means I get to run my class however I see fit. You've been taking standardized tests most of your lives, but you've never gotten to use your quirks in physical exams before. The country's still trying to pretend that we're all created equal by not letting those with the most power excel. It's not rational. Someday the ministry of education will learn." 

     Hitoshi felt something sink into the pit of his gut. He could guess where this was going, and he most certainly didn't like it.

     "Bakugou."

     "Yeah?"

     "You got the highest score on the entrance exam. What was the farthest you managed to throw a softball in junior high?" Aizawa asked, and that heavy something settled a little lower.

     Bakugou frowned, considering. He seemed… weirdly uncomfortable with this whole situation. Hitoshi would have thought he was the type to enjoy the spotlight. "Sixty-seven meters, I think."

     "Right. Try it with your quirk," their teacher continued, offering him a softball that probably had some sort of tracking device in it. "Anything goes, just stay in the circle to pitch it."

     Bakugou grunted in aquiecense as he stepped forward. "Right man, you asked for it," he muttered. “You might wanna cover your ears,” he added offhandedly to a girl with short dark hair and serious RBF syndrome, then took a deep breath and readied his stance. Uraraka perked up with interest, but when Hitoshi glanced at her, all she did was smile knowingly. 

     A moment later, he found out why. 

     "DIE!!!" Bakugou roared as a massive explosion burst from the palm of his hand, smoke streaming like a comet tail behind the ball as it flew into the distance. While his classmates gaped (Hitoshi did nothing of the sort; shut up), Aizawa continued his explanation. 

     "All of you need to figure out your maximum capabilities as they now stand. It's the most rational way to determine your potential." To emphasize his point, he held up his phone, open to an app synchronized with whatever device was wired to the ball. 

     "Over seven hundred meters?! Dude, that's amazing!" Lightning Blonde gaped.

     "I wanna go! Looks like fun!" Pinky squealed.

     "This is what I'm talking about: getting to use our quirks as much as we want!" Weird Elbows added, grinning eagerly. All three of their excited expressions vanished with their teacher's next words.

     "So this looks fun, huh? You have three years here to become a hero. You think it's all gonna be games and play time? Idiots," he grinned, and the expression was absolutely terrifying. "Today you'll be competing in eight physical exams to determine your potential. Whoever comes in last has none and will be expelled immediately."

      "Expelled?!?"

     "No way; you can't do that on the first day!"

     "It isn't fair!"

     "Like I said, I get to control how this class runs," Aizawa cut in, still smiling coldly. "If that's a problem, then you can pack up and go home right now."

      Yeah, Hitoshi groaned internally, I'm royally screwed.

.oOo.

     By the time they reached the halfway point of the tests, Hitoshi had concluded that he'd never felt so humiliated in all his life. 

     Even after all the work he'd put in, even after UA had changed policy to create a separate entrance exam for students like him with quirks unsuited to combat with robots, he was still essentially being told to give up.

     He'd known from the moment Aizawa had announced the test that things would end up this way. His quirk just wasn't suited for application to a physical exam! He couldn't brainwash the ball into flying further, nor could he brainwash his frickin' legs into jumping farther or running faster for the long jump or fifty meter dash. It just didn't work that way! 

     He grit his teeth as he walked at the back of the class, his hands balled into fists, in spite of his best efforts to maintain a calm, collected air. Get it together, Hitoshi, he scolded himself. Do you want to be a hero or not?

     "What's with that look?"

     Hitoshi actually jumped, then whirled around, wide-eyed, towards a slight young man standing just to the side of the path, arms folded across his chest, one of his bright red high tops raised to balance himself against the wall, dressed in gray slacks and a black hoodie, pulled low over his eyes so that all he could see was a couple strands of curly green hair, a notebook tucked under one arm. The new freshman blinked at the other boy, more than a little bit bewildered by his sudden appearance. Not to mention his somewhat… lax attention to it. 

     "What are you doing here?" he managed eventually,  hoping he sounded a little more composed than he looked and biting back a wince when he realized he'd forgotten not to phrase his words as a question.

     The boy chuckled softly, straightening and turning to face him, although Hitoshi still couldn't see his eyes. "Don't worry. My sensei knows I'm out here."

     "That wasn't my question."

     "True," came the faint smile. "I was just interested in seeing the results of Aizawa-sensei's Quirk Test this year."

     "This year…" Hitoshi frowned. "So this is a regular occurrence."

     "Yeah," came the huffed laugh. "Last year he expelled his entire class."

     Hitoshi choked. "You've gotta be screwing with me."

     "Not all at once, but over the course of the school year. It's kind of a legend among the upperclassmen. But honestly, I saw it coming--they put up a poor showing during their Quirk Assessment. Half of them gave up before they'd even begun, resigning themselves to expulsion. The rest obviously had no strong handle on their quirks, or even much of a willingness to get creative using them. One was a bully, one was a pervert… On top of which, their top performer wanted to be a hero 'just because'." The boy shook his head with a pitying air and Histoshi couldn't help but think that the boy was awfully well-informed. A Management student, maybe? Or Support? And maybe with an information oriented or otherwise analytical quirk? "Honestly, I don't blame Aizawa-sensei for expelling them. I wouldn't worry about it too much, though. This class has a lot of potential. All the students I've seen so far have been incredible; they've really embraced the challenge of applying their quirks to the tests. Although… Come to think of it, I don't think I've seen you use yours yet."

     "Yeah, well my quirk isn't exactly anything physical. There's not much I can do to apply it to a test like this."

     The boy cocked his head slightly to one side, his slight frown indicating that he was surveying Hitoshi like a particularly fascinating math problem. Then, all at once, the confusion vanished. "Oh, are you one of the students that got in through the new test system?"

     He nodded, and even without seeing his eyes the upperclassman(?)'s face instantly seemed to light up. "Hey, that's amazing! So what is your quirk, exactly? If they let you take the secondary exam, then it's something that can't affect electronics, right? Is it biologically oriented, like Midnight-sensei's quirk, or quirk-manipulation oriented, like Aizawa-sensei's?"

     Hitoshi hesitated. It wasn't that he minded talking about his quirk, but most people didn't exactly react… favorably towards him when they found out about it. But this boy seemed so open and earnest, it felt like a crime to just… brush him off. "It's more biological…" he said slowly.

     "Awesome! Emitter type, I'm guessing? I mean of course; if it was transformation, they'd probably have sent you to the regular exam. Well unless it's like Shishikura Seiji, where he has a transformation quirk with emitter-like properties that only affect biological matter, but that's a rare occurrence and anyway he can still use it to manipulate his own flesh too, so… uh… Sorry," the boy cut himself off, looking somewhat embarrassed as he raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. If that hood wasn't hiding his face, Hitoshi imagined he'd be blushing. "I get like that when I'm thinking too much. A-Anyway, what's your quirk called?" 

     "It's… Brainwashing," he admitted finally, casting a nervous glance towards the other boy. He'd gone still, and even though he couldn't see it, Hitoshi could imagine his eyes widening, imagine the fear and the caution leaking into th-

     "That's so cool!!" 

     Hitoshi blinked at him. "…What."

     The boy was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he fumbled for a pen and whipped open his notebook. "How does it work? What's the activator? Can you control multiple people at once? Can you only control your targets' actions, or can you control what they say, too? Do they have any memory of what you've done after the fact? Does their willingness or awareness have any effect on your level of control? Can they resist or reinterpret commands, or does it all lie in the intent? Is there any way to break out of it? Can you issue multiple commands at once? Does it give you control over their quirk too? Can you give commands silently, or does it have to be vocal? What-?"

      "Oi, Shinsou! Come on; we're about to start without you, man!"

     The boy broke off, jumping slightly at the sound of the voice. It was the boy with the obnoxiously red hair, waving at them from the corner of the gym. Kirishima, right?

     "Sorry about that!" the green-haired boy called back. "I held him up!" He turned back with a slightly sheepish smile, closing his notebook around the pen. "Sorry if I came off too strong there. It's just that mind-control quirks are really rare, so I don't get the chance to talk to users often. I'd better let you get to class though; Aizawa-sensei's not known for his patience."

     "Yeah. Okay," Hitoshi murmured, still a little whiplashed from the boy's unexpected reaction. 

      My quirk… is cool?

     "Oh, and Shinsou-san?"

     "Yeah?"

     The boy had turned back towards him, and just for a moment, Hitoshi caught a glimpse of emerald green eyes, reflecting the faint smile playing around his lips. "Just a word of advice: Aizawa-sensei values creativity and tenacity over orthodoxy."

     "…My quirk is brainwashing, not mind reading. You're gonna have to explain that a bit more."

     "Your quirk may not be physical in nature, but it might give you access to resources that no one else has. Just thought I'd remind you of that."

     "Um. Okay," Hitoshi frowned, watching as the boy turned and walked away in the general direction of the main building. Still a bit bemused by their entire interaction, he ran after Kirishima, who led the way into the gym.

     "So who was that guy?" the redhead frowned, cocking his head curiously at him. 

     "Dunno. An upperclassman I think."

     "Huh. Weird."

     "Yeah," Hitoshi agreed absently as they rejoined their classmates. 

     "Now that the slowpokes have joined us," Aizawa droned wearily, "we can continue the test. Next we're demonstrating grip strength. Everyone grab a scale."

     Hitoshi stayed back once again as the rest of his class stepped forward to grab a machine, but this time it was because his thoughts were still spinning around what that boy had said. Aizawa values creativity. Creativity? His quirk, while powerful, was pretty one-note if he was being honest. He could take over people's minds, get them to do things they didn't want to do, but he couldn't trick a machine with it. Your quirk gives you access to resources that no one else has.

     "Whoa dude, that's incredible! You hit five hundred and forty kilograms!" someone called. Hitoshi glanced over curiously, towards where that giant of a young man with three arms on each side had taken one of the machines with all three arms and used them to increase his overall grip. There were a couple of other students gathered around him, gawking at the score that had appeared on the screen. The boy with the funky elbows appeared to have been the speaker.

      Resources that no one else has.

     An insane plan formulated in his mind. It was the kind of plan that might get him expelled, but frankly if he didn't try something he was likely to get expelled anyway. So Hitoshi set aside his doubts and stepped forward. 

     "Hey. You're pretty strong, right?"

     "Hm? I guess-" Instantly, his classmate's face went slack, his eyes staring straight ahead. Hitoshi allowed himself a grim smile.

     "Do the test for me," he commanded quietly, passing the grip-strength machine to him. Without a word, the other student complied, while Weird Elbows gaped at him. 

     "Dude how'd you do that?" 

     Hitoshi shrugged, taking his machine back as he released control. Six Arms blinked and stared at him, then at the machine in Hitoshi's hands with an even higher score than had been on his own. “Did I do that?” he frowned, and Hitoshi shrugged noncommittally, internally bracing himself for the backlash of his classmate's fury, for the ostracization and fear that always followed his quirk. "Huh. Clever."

     For the second time that day, all Hitoshi could do was blink. "What?"

     Six Arms shrugged. He couldn't see him smile past the face mask he insisted on wearing, but he could hear it vaguely. "You have some kind of control quirk, right? It's a clever way to apply it to a test like this," he clarified. "But how'd you get a higher score than I did?"

     "Um… I'm not sure," Hitoshi admitted. "Maybe my quirk helped you to not overthink things."

     His classmate considered, then nodded. "That could be it. Might be an interesting way to team up in a battle at some point."

     An interesting way to…? Wait… "You're suggesting that you want me to brainwash you again," Hitoshi stared in bewilderment.

     "Well I'm not gonna lie, it felt pretty weird," Six Arms acknowledged, "but a quirk like that could be really effective in stopping villains. It'd be a waste not to practice with it, right?"

     "Yeah, no kidding!" Weird Elbows suddenly cut in, grinning. "That power of yours is amazing, dude! I'm glad you're on our side!"

     "I… I guess," Hitoshi agreed, feeling dizzy as they drowned him in positivity.

     "Alright. We're moving on to the situps," Aizawa called, his voice still the epitome of boredom. "Pick a partner and get moving." 

     "Wanna team up?" Elbows asked instantly, still grinning. 

     "Uh. Sure."

     Histoshi glanced towards the teacher as he and his classmate--Sero, he soon learned--headed towards the mats, and was slightly surprised to realize that he was side-eyeing him appraisingly as well, the faintest of smiles touching his lips before he hid the expression in his scarf. It was such a stark contrast to his usual basilisk glare, Hitoshi actually stopped walking for a moment to stare. 

     Looked like he wasn't going to be expelled for quirk abuse, then.

     There wasn't much he could do with his quirk to facilitate the situps or the seated toe touch, but the long-distance run, the final event of the morning, was another matter. As the students gathered by the start line, Hitoshi quietly approached Iida. "Hey. How fast can you go carrying another person?" he asked.

     "Well it depends-" 

     Iida's face went slack, and at Hitoshi's command, let him ride piggy-back. The brainwasher did his best to ignore the startled looks from some of their other classmates--he knew that he looked absolutely ridiculous (and he pretended that was all that was making them stare). In the end, they still managed to finish first, even with Hitoshi's added weight. Iida didn't take his manipulation as well as Six Arms--or Shouji, as he'd introduced himself--had, but begrudgingly admitted it was a smart move, and even commented he thought this might have been his best time over this distance, especially considering the added burden of Hitoshi. 

      Huh. Maybe his quirk really could help people avoid overthinking things. 

     When the results came out, Hitoshi was honestly surprised--and more than a little relieved--to find he'd placed 15th, just above his situps partner Sero. The last place, Mineta Minoru, was told to go pack his bags. The boy wailed like a siren, tears gushing from his eyes (and a little blood leaking from his scalp), but Aizawa remained utterly unimpressed. As a matter of fact, Hitoshi could see a little more disdain clouding the man's eyes with every word to leave the boy's mouth. When the words 'Yaoyorozu' and 'boobs' appeared in the same sentence, any remaining vestiges of patience vanished in an instant, his eyes suddenly burning red and his seemingly-unobtrusive scarf whipping out to wrap the little pervert up like a mummy. "Did I stutter?" he growled lowly, and his former student released a muffled squeak of fear.

     "Wh-What is this?"

     "I get it," Bakugou snorted suddenly. "That's your capture weapon. You're Eraserhead, aren't you, the underground hero. I thought you seemed familiar."  

     Aizawa-sensei (Hitoshi supposed that he'd earned the honorific) shot him an odd look, but didn't deny it. Instead he returned his attention to Mineta, flicking the scarf (capture weapon?) and allowing it to unravel. "If you understand your situation, then pack your bags and get out."

     Still sniffling, but too terrified to protest further, Mineta left. Hitoshi did not fail to notice that he shot one more disgustingly hungry glance towards the girls as he did so. Nor did he fail to notice that all of them seemed to press a little tighter around Yaoyorozu, who looked rather pale as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

     "Now that that's been taken care of," Aizawa-sensei sighed, snapping instantly back to his hum-drum demeanor, "there are a few things that I need to give you all before sending you home for the day. So go on; back to the classroom with everyone. Except Bakugou."

     "Eh? What'd I do?"

     "I want a word."

     Hitoshi followed the rest of the chattering crowd back towards the classroom, staying towards the back as usual, casting a curious glance towards where their teacher stood, speaking quietly to the scruffy blonde. They were angled in such a way that he couldn't tell what he was saying by the movement of his lips but it seemed serious judging by his posture and the grim light in his dark eyes.

     "So, Shinsou-kun, what'd you think of the test?" Uraraka asked brightly, falling into step alongside him and startling his attention away from them. At first, all he could do was stare at her. (Was this the third time today?) She knew what his quirk could do now, and yet she still insisted on being his friend?

     "It was alright," he shrugged eventually. "Made me think outside the box a bit."

     "I know, right!? I never would have thought of using your quirk that way; getting other people to help you out was really clever! Iida-kun mentioned that when you hypnotized him or whatever it was like you were able to push him past his limits, too! If we ever did team-ups, do you think you could help suppress my nausea reflex? It's not too horrible most of the time, but if I push too hard…"

     Hitoshi absently listened to her chatter on, still processing the fact that, even after learning about his quirk, no one had rejected him yet. In fact, they were encouraging him. It's an interesting group we have here, he thought. Then the thought occurred to him that it might have been him sent home if he hadn't used his quirk on Shouji and Iida. If that had happened, he'd never have the chance to get to know this strange, friendly bunch of kids.

     One way or another, he'd have to thank that green-haired boy if he ever saw him again. 

Outtake:

     Eijirou kept glancing over his shoulder as he trailed after the rest of his new class, waiting for Bakugou to finish his ‘word’ with Aizawa-sensei. He could tell that his best friend’s posture was unusually stiff; Eijirou hoped that he wasn’t in trouble for some reason, especially considering that their teacher obviously had no qualms about kicking trouble-makers out of school. 

     Seriously though, that little bastard had been asking for it. Ashido had told him and Bakugou how that purple-haired punk tried sneaking into the girls’ changing room back during the entrance exam. Then talking about the top scorer in the quirk assessment test like she was some kind of porn star? So not manly. Matter of fact, that was probably one of the least manly things he had ever seen. Frankly, Eijirou was relieved that punk had been expelled.

     Eventually, Bakugou walked away from their new teacher, his face unreadable. He didn’t even pause to roll his eyes when he noticed that Eijirou had waited up for him. 

     “Hey man. You okay?” the newly-redhead asked softly, falling in step with him.

     “Fine.”

     “What was all that about?”

     Bakugou sighed deeply, the sound a combination of exasperation, irritation, and resignation. “The school knows I’m in therapy but not why, so they want me to take a psych exam from their counselor.”

     “Didn’t you already have to take one of those when you applied to UA?” Eijirou frowned.

     “Yeah, but they want me to take one from somebody with a little more ‘familiarity with the stresses of being a pro hero’,” the blonde grumbled, making air quotes with his fingers, although by now, Eijirou knew him well enough to tell that the irritation was just a shield for his worry.

     “Hey, you’ll do fine, man. You’ve worked so hard the last few years to get a handle on your temper; I’m sure it’ll be fine!”

     “I don’t think it’s about that,” Bakugou sighed. “I think they wanna know about my trauma therapy.”

     “Oh,” Eijirou blinked, suddenly understanding why he’d seemed so dead-eyed from the conversation. It had taken nearly two years of friendship before Bakugou had told him about the reason why he transferred schools: the death of Midoriya Izuku. He knew that Bakugou blamed himself, and while Eijirou didn’t agree that he should, he could empathize with why; it had to be awful to realize your childhood best friend committed suicide and you’d never noticed just how far-gone they were. 

     He could only imagine how hard it must be for Bakugou to open up to a total stranger about it when it took him so long even to mention it to his friends. 

     “Well hey,” Eijirou smiled, lightly punching his friend’s shoulder, “you’re one of the manliest people I know. I’m sure it’ll all work out.”

     Bakugou huffed at that, a crooked smile curling his lips, too. “I should smack you for that.”

     “What? I gave you a compliment!”

     “You said ‘one of’. If I’m not the best then it’s an insult.”

     “Sorry man, but not even you are as manly as Crimson Riot.”

     “Like hell, Weird Hair!”

Chapter Text

     Kyoka was going to fall asleep if this kept up for much longer. How was she supposed to keep track of the difference between a relative pronoun and a subject pronoun? It was only the second day of school for heaven's sake! English was stupid. And it had nothing to do with hero work anyway! (She chose to ignore the voice in the back of her head reminding her that most international heroes affairs were conducted in English anymore.)

     In an effort to stay awake, Kyoka allowed one of her earphone jacks to wind downward and fit itself between a pair of the cracks in the floorboard. Instantly, about twenty heartbeats resounded through her body, creating a veritable tattoo of complex polyrhythms that had her smiling quietly and tapping a finger to the beat. Slowly, she expanded her awareness, taking note of the pencils scratching across paper, students shifting in their desks, that electric guy snickering about something on his phone under his breath, Present Mic's amplified voice asking them which of the example sentences on the board contained a mistake.

     Then Kyoka heard something rather odd. A new voice, one that she didn't think she'd ever heard before, mumbling too quietly for anyone else to hear, "The relative pronoun is incorrect in the last one," a moment before Yaoyorozu raised her hand to say the same thing. Well, more or less. She said it in a much more formal manner than the mumbler. Not to mention she expanded the answer significantly. Even if she hadn't, it couldn't have been her; this other voice was male. 

     Curious, Kyoka cast a cautious glance around the room, wondering who it may have been. She'd heard most of the boys speak at some point. The only ones that she hadn't paid much attention to were that triangle-headed boy, the six-armed guy, and the one with wild indigo hair, all of whom sat towards the back.

     Hm… she'd have to pay closer attention in the future.

     By the time lunch ended, she'd marked off Shouji and… Shinsou? Yeah, Shinsou. The triangle-headed kid, Kouda, still hadn't said a word. He seemed to use sign language though, so maybe he just… couldn't talk? But in that case, who the heck had she heard speaking in English class? 

     "I AM HERE!!! COMING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A HERO!!!!" 

     The entire class burst into excited squeals and whispers as All Might himself entered the room. So the rumors about him being a UA teacher were true after all. 

      He is one heck of an awkward teacher, though, Kyoka snickered to herself as he glanced over his notes with that iconic smile fixed into place. 

     They were starting off with a bang: battle training, and in costume, too! She was impressed that the support teams had churned them out so quickly, but then again they were professionals. She quite liked her own outfit; it had a distinctly punk rock vibe, and the speakers fitted to her legs were gonna be sick for weaponizing her quirk. The other girls didn't look half-bad either, although Yaoyorozu looked somewhat uncomfortable.

     "Something wrong, Yaomomo?" Mina--as she'd insisted on being called--asked curiously, her head cocked to one side as she pulled her sleeveless, fur-collared jacket on over her vibrant jumpsuit.

     "Oh. Y-Yes, I'm fine. Just feeling a little… exposed after the incident with Mineta," the other girl confessed, glancing over her own costume. 

     Kyoka could understand what she meant. The bright red leotard in her briefcase had been cut to leave her skin uncovered from stomach to throat, leaving only a thin band over her chest to keep her… er… assets in place. Otherwise she was only provided with a stiff yellow skirt-thing that hung low on her hips and left her legs bare from the upper thighs down, equipped with a small shelf for her to keep a book filled with chemical and mechanical processes that Kyoka couldn't have kept straight even if she'd wanted to. Frankly, she looked great, and the exposed skin was very much necessary for her quirk, but after being singled out by the class pervert so recently, it was probably a bit much.

     "Yeah, I get that," Uraraka sighed. "Honestly, I'm a little uncomfortable in my costume, too. It's a bit more skintight than I would have liked."

     "Well, you could always request a change," Kyoka shrugged, pulling on her own leather jacket and smoothing out the collar. "Like Yaoyorozu, maybe you could ask for something more like a sports bra? It could cover your chest a bit more and still leave your stomach and back free to create." 

     "Yeah, and maybe shorts instead of the skirt?" Tsu-chan--as she'd insisted on being called--piped up, tilting her head to one side and resting her finger on her chin. "Or at least biker shorts to put underneath the skirt? Kero. But either way it's up to you."

     Yaoyorozu smiled, a flicker of relief entering her dark eyes. "Thank you, Jirou-san, Tsu-chan. I'll consider it."

     Kyoka shrugged again, but smiled just the same. When they'd first met, Yaoyorozu had seemed like your typical arrogant, snooty rich girl, and the fact that she'd been accepted into UA on recommendation hadn't helped her case. But then the Mineta thing had happened and suddenly she'd been humanized, seeking support and friendship among the other girls and smiling with a genuineness and gratitude that was frankly dazzling when they gave it. Since then, she'd quickly shown herself to be kind, too, offering to help anyone who wanted it during study hall and eagerly engaging them all in conversation during lunch, focusing far more on asking about their lives than telling them about her own. In a weird way, Kyoka was grateful to Mineta for that. If it hadn't been for him, she might not have become friends with Yaoyorozu so quickly.

     Soon after that, they headed outside. The boys looked great too. Even Mr. Pikachu. Actually, she was a little surprised by how much his aesthetic complemented her own, all the way down to the leather jacket and cargo pants. She found herself wondering what kind of music he listened to as she turned her attention back to All Might.

     "ALRIGHT, YA NEWBIES!!" he boomed, fists planted on his hips in a power pose. "LET'S GET STARTED!!"  

     The class was randomly split into six groups, mostly of threes, but there was one group of four. (She overheard All Might grumbling under his breath about how inconvenient it had been to have to split a class of nineteen instead of twenty into an even number of groups and smirked.) She herself ended up in Group A with Shinsou and Bakugou. Group B was Iida, Uraraka, and Tokoyami, C was Yaoyorozu, Todoroki, and Kirishima, D was Kouda, Satou, Ojirou, and Hagakure, E was Shouji, Aoyama, and Mina, and F was Tsu-chan, Pikachu, and Sero. Iida complained a bit about the randomness of the groupings, but Uraraka looked thoughtful.

     "I mean, if you think about it," she pointed out slowly, "Heroes often have to team up with whoever arrives on the scene. They don't always have a choice of partners."

     "Ah, I see," Iida mused, his voice muffled by his medieval-style helmet. "I understand! Please forgive my rudeness!"

     "NO SWEAT!!"

     From there, the groups were to be randomly matched against each other as 'heroes' and 'villains', with the latter hiding and defending a fake nuke while the former tried to find and capture them. The groups had ten minutes to plan between exercises, then fifteen minutes to reach their objectives. 

     "Huh. So it's basically an expanded version of our entrance exam," Hagakure had commented to Shinsou. "Except, you know, not working alone and not going up against third years."

     The first pairing pitched Group C as the heroes against Group E as the villains. The two groups were given ten minutes to strategize and otherwise prepare. In the meantime, Kyoka and the rest of the class followed All Might to an observation room lined with screens showing dozens of views of the building from a variety of angles. Together, they watched as Shouji carried the 'nuke' to the top floor, then, after a brief discussion, Aoyama was left behind as a defender while Ashido and Shouji rushed back to the ground floor. There, they watched as Shouji's extra arms transformed into extra sets of eyes and ears that waved through the air, while Mina knelt down at the top of the first flight of stairs, pressing her hands to the floor. A moment later, smoke began to rise from the concrete.

     "What's going on?" Pikachu frowned, glancing towards the group still strategizing outside. 

     Bakugou rolled his eyes. "She's setting traps, ya' idiot," he deadpanned. "Her quirk is Acid. Obviously they're going for a time game, using Panda Eyes to keep ’em busy and Six Arms to keep a lookout while Laser Boy watches the weapon." 

     "Very good, Bakugou-shounen!!" All Might beamed. "It's an excellent strategy, taking advantage of each group member's strengths! When time ends in two minutes, we'll see the heroes' response!!"

     The 'heroes' response', at least initially, was to send Todoroki forward. The dual-toned boy laid one hand against the wall, and Kyoka and the rest of her classmates gaped as ice swept from his fingertips, rapidly encasing the entire building. Like, they could feel the cold from the observation room it was so intense. "T-Take note of T-Todoroki-shounen's t-technique, class!" All Might called, shivering. "He used his power in such a w-way that it would hopefully n-neutralize the villain team without comprom-m-mising the weapon its-self!"

     "Yeah, on most teams that would've worked," Bakugou agreed, pointing at the screen, "but against these guys…" 

     Kyoka quickly saw what Blasty meant by that. Mina's acid easily melted through Todoroki's ice, and she quickly freed Shouji as well. Aoyama had a harder time of it, but he could shoot lasers from his stomach, so he managed to get free, too. Still, the ice would slow them down, not to mention muffle sounds so that Shouji would be less effective at identifying the locations of their pursuers, so it wasn't like it had been a wasted strategy. The heroes walked through the front door, Kirishima in the lead and Todoroki at the rear, while Yaoyorozu walked between them, pulling a strange device right out of her stomach. 

     "What's that supposed to be?" Sero frowned now.

     "It looks like one of those spy thingies in movies," Hagakure commented. "The hearing whatchamacallits."

     "She's trying to figure out where the villains are!" Uraraka realized.

     "That's right, Uraraka-shoujo!! It's a smart move! A hero should always gather as much information as possible when walking into a potentially dangerous situation!!"

     Things progressed steadily from there. Mina and Shouji continued higher and higher through the building, the latter informing the former of the heroes' whereabouts, while they continued setting traps throughout the various hallways and stairwells. Mina got them good a couple of times, like at the first stairwell, where she weakened and carved away a portion of the cement so that it collapsed underneath them. Kirishima managed to quickly harden his hand, driving it into the cement to keep from falling before reaching back to try to catch Yaoyorozu's hand, but he missed, so Todoroki--who hadn't yet reached that portion of the staircase--had to catch her instead. But Todoroki's ice slowed the villains down, and almost ten minutes into the battle trial and on the third floor, Mina tried to get too ambitious--melting away an entire portion of the floor--allowing the heroes to catch up. Instantly, Todoroki stepped forward, ice flashing out from his right foot and immobilizing Shouji and Mina in seconds. 

     Mina tried to use her acid to free herself, but Kirishima got there before she could. Kyoka couldn't hear them from this distance, and their voices weren't projected on the screens, but she could tell that the pink-haired girl was yelling dramatically while the redhead wrapped her and Shouji in capture tape and let Todoroki and Yaoyorozu run ahead. Without any traps blocking their way, they reached Aoyama and the 'nuke' in no time. Another flash of ice and some tricky maneuvering from Yaoyorozu to avoid Aoyama's last-ditch attempt at firing his laser later, they had captured the weapon.

     Kyoka's classmates cheered as All Might announced the hero team's victory. Kirishima used his Hardening to chip Shouji out while Mina just used her acid. Todoroki meanwhile stepped forward to press his left hand to the ice encasing Aoyama, and it instantly transformed into steam.  

     "Dang, that guy has two quirks?" Sero and Pikachu gaped. 

     "Next up, THESE GUYS!!" All Might announced, holding up Group D as the heroes, and Group B as the villains. Hagakure cheered, and Iida groaned. 

     "It may be for training," he sighed as he, Uraraka, and Tokoyami began to make their way towards the next building, "but it still pains me to be aligned with the villains."

     This fight was considerably more one-sided than the last. Uraraka had the brilliant idea of making the nuke float, then wrapped the capture tape around it and had Tokoyami's shadow quirk thing attach it to the building's outer wall, out of reach from any window and just too far down to grab from the roof. With that done, the three of them took up strategic positions around the building to spy on and ambush the hero team. 

     Iida took Kouda down first, doddering at the back of the group as he was. He was fast enough to zip in, snag him with the capture tape, and zip away again before the other heroes had a chance to react. After that, it was three on three. 

     Uraraka took down Satou, darting in when he and Ojirou split up to look for the weapon on the second floor. One touch, and he was floating up by the ceiling. Iida arrived a moment later with the capture tape, then he and Uraraka set off to look for Ojirou together.

      Tokoyami found Hagakure trying to sneak up the stairs to the fourth floor. Or rather, his shadow quirk did. Honestly, Kyoka had lost track of her. She only found out later that she'd squeaked in surprise when the quirk swooped overhead and that was the only reason she was caught.

     Surprisingly, Ojirou gave them the most trouble. He managed to take Iida by surprise by leaping through the window of one of the rooms and bringing his tail down on the back of his head hard enough to give him a concussion before darting away again, seconds before Uraraka managed to tag him. Ojirou used his tail as a climbing tool, getting to the higher floors by climbing out the windows and skipping the stairs entirely, on top of which it meant that he very nearly captured the weapon before the villain team could get back to it. Fortunately however, Tokoyami’s shadow managed to get him around the waist and haul him back a few feet away from the paper mache nuke, holding him firm until Uraraka could float herself out the window and get him with the capture tape as well. 

     Uraraka threw up and very nearly passed out after that, but still grinned and managed a shaky, "Worth it!"

     Then it was Kyoka's turn. Pikachu, Tsu-chan, and Sero as the villains, and her, Bakugou, and Shinsou as the heroes. It was an… odd dynamic, to say the least. Both of her teammates clearly didn't like interacting with people much, and even showed it in similar ways--clipped, sarcastic, abrasive comments and lots of grumbling under their breath. Unfortunately, the combination of two people like that on the same team was not a good one. The result? Kyoka was forced into the awkward position of mediator. 

     "So, let's talk quirks!" she declared loudly, clapping her hands together in an effort to break off a glaring contest between the two boys. "Mine is called Earphone Jack. I can use these both for scouting, by plugging into a wall and listening to the vibrations, and offense, by plugging them into the stereos on my boots and amplifying my heartbeat. You guys?"

     Lord Grumpy spoke first, sighing with a world-weary air. "My quirk is called Explosion. It's basically what it sounds like: I sweat somethin' like nitroglycerin and then fire explosions from the palms of my hands. I can use them to increase attack power or mobility. And I don't half-ass anything, especially a fight."

     "My quirk is called Brainwashing. When I ask someone a question and they give a verbal response, I can control them. I can't force them to do anything that requires high brain functions, like speaking or writing, but I can get them to do just about anything else."

     "Great. So what do we know about the villains' quirks?" 

     "As I recall, Asui's basically a frog. Sero has tape arms, and Kaminari is-"

     "Basically Pikachu?" Kyoka smirked.

     "Yeah," Shinsou agreed, the barest hint of a smile touching his lips while Bakugou just snorted. "Any idea what sorts of strategies they might use?"

     "Not a clue," Grumpy shrugged, looking over the floorplan they'd been given of the building. "We don't know enough about their personalities. But I bet Jacks here could figure that out once we get started."

     Kyoka nodded in agreement.

     "Then what?"

     "Like I said, I'm pretty combat-oriented. You don't look like you could throw a punch, but your quirk's useful. If you can control 'em, we can wrap everyone in capture tape pretty easy. Then I'll take care of anyone who wises up to how your quirk works."

     "Sounds pretty solid to me."

     "Yeah, alright," Shinsou agreed, and the plan was set.

     Once the ten minutes were up, Kyoka and her teammates slipped carefully inside. Remembering the ambush that Iida pulled off, they snuck in through a window instead of going through the front. Shortly thereafter, Kyoka found a load-bearing wall and stuck in her jack. "Fourth floor," she murmured softly, "by the north-facing wall, maybe twenty-five or thirty meters from the staircase? Someone’s defending, but moving carefully, like there are obstacles around him--maybe it’s Sero setting traps? But then again, there’s also someone near the front, hanging from the ceiling that’s probably him, so they must have left Pikachu with the weapon instead." Mina and Shouji really set a precedent by splitting up from Aoyama.

     “Are you sure it isn’t the frog girl? Asui?” 

     “Yeah, Tsu-chan is by the stairs; she has a unique gait.”

     "Alright. Which punk do we destroy first?" 

     "Taking Asui would clear the stairs, but then we run the risk of Sero sneaking up on us."

     "So we take Sero first."

     "Probably for the best."

     "Alright. Let's go get Tape Arms," Blasty grinned fiercely.  

     Kyoka smiled, shaking her head slightly as she rose to her feet. Then she froze, pressing close to the wall again, her face contorted in concentration.

     "Eh? Jacks? What's up?"

     "That's odd," she muttered under her breath, ignoring him. 

     "What is?" Shinsou frowned, sizing up the wall as though it would tell him what she hadn't yet. 

     "There's… someone else," she said slowly.

     "Someone else?"

     "Yeah. I swear I heard them earlier in class, too. Somebody mumbling."

     "Mumbling?" Lord Grumpy asked, his expression suddenly sharp and even fierce. "What kind of mumbling?"

     "It's… not super clear. It's quiet and at a distance… I think they're near the stairs?"

     "So what the frick is he saying?!" Blasty demanded. 

     "Calm down," Shinsou growled warningly. "You're going to give us away to the other team."

     "Dammit, Bags, this is more important!!" he snapped back, a flash of danger in his red eyes.

     "'Bags'?"

     "Jacks, what is he saying?!"

     "U-Uh, something about… range?" Kyoka stuttered, taken aback by Bakugou's ferocity. "Uh, tongue extension? And… stealth? I-I don't know, it's too quick and quiet to tell details."

     Bakugou released a shaky breath. He looked dazed. "I'll go check it out. You guys stay here."

     "What? Bakugou, you can't just rush off and abandon the mission!"

     "Mission? We're frickin' heroes Bags! If there's something happening during the test, then we need to know what's going on!" he snapped, and suddenly Kyoka and Shinsou both froze. He had a point. If someone had somehow infiltrated the test, then they could potentially be in serious danger. Evidently, All Might thought the same thing.

      "Jirou-shoujo, I overheard the situation over your earpieces," All Might's voice sounded in their ears. 

     Thank God he had the foresight not to use the PA system, Kyoka thought.

      "I need more details about the intruder's location. How close to the stairwell is he? Is Asui-shoujo in danger?"

     "Um…" Kyoka frowned, closing her eyes in concentration. "Actually, judging by the few words I've been able to catch, he may be talking about Tsu-chan's quirk. I think… I think he might actually be watching her."

     A heavy breath came through the comm system. Kyoka couldn't blame him. She was starting to feel pretty freaked out herself. What the hell was going on? "Bakugou-shounen. Shinsou-shounen. Get out of the building. I'll relay this information to the other team. Jirou-shoujo, I want you to stay where you are until everyone else is out, keeping a close eye on the intruder's position. Continue to share whatever information you can on him, but if you hear him getting close to you, get out. Understood?"

     "Yes sir," Kyoka nodded, glancing towards her teammates. Shinsou nodded, but Bakugou looked downright revolutionary.  

     "I'm stayin'," he snarled.

      "Bakugou-shounen-"

     "I'm stayin'!" he snapped again. "There might be more of 'em, and Jacks is gonna need someone to watch her back, especially when we have no idea what their quirks are! And anyway, if this guy suddenly attacks Frog Face, we're gonna need someone on hand!"

      "Bakugou-shounen, I can handle-"

    "Don't be stupid! I'm already on site--you're not! And if you show up out of the blue, they'll know their operation's in the hole! We've gotta keep this on the down low until everyone's out!"

     Kyoka stared at him. Did… Did Blasty just call All Might stupid?

     "…Very well. But as soon as the building is cleared, you and Jirou-shoujo need to get out."

     "In that case, I-"

     "Don't even think about it, Bags," Bakugou growled, glowering at him. "We don't need any liabilities."

     Shinsou's eyes narrowed. "What are you implying?" he hissed.

     "Nothing like you're thinking," he rolled his eyes in turn, "but we have no idea how much he knows. If this guy's been watching us, then he might already know about your quirk. If that's the case, then face it: there's not much you can do. But even if he knows my quirk, even if he has a way to counter it, I can still fight."

     Kyoka's eyes flicked back and forth between her two partners; it was like watching an especially intense battle between a pair of alpha dogs. She was a little surprised when Shinsou was the first to sigh. "Fine," he bit out. "Don't get yourselves killed."

     "Tch. I told you already: I don't half-ass things."

     Shinsou made his way back to the window they'd come in through, leaving Kyoka and Bakugou crouched by the wall. She could hear Sero leave, too, feel the vibration as he dropped to the floor and slipped out the front. Kaminari had a harder time of things, but judging by the route he was taking, it seemed he actually pulled a smart move and used Sero's tape like a rope to climb down to ground level instead of risking the stairwell. Asui moved more slowly, obviously trying not to alert the intruder that they were aware of his presence as she made her way higher into the building. 

     It seemed the only thing left to do was wait.

      "Jirou-shoujo, be advised that the intruder may have some form of invisibility quirk. Asui-shoujo couldn't see any sign of him. Can you still hear him?"

     "He's gone quiet," Kyoka replied, hoping that wasn't significant, "but I haven't heard any footsteps either, so he should still be in the same place."

      "Understood. Keep listening."

     "Yes sir."

     Trying not to concern herself with it too much, she expanded her focus further outward, searching for anyone else but finding no one. Just Blasty, shifting restlessly behind her. True to his word, Bakugou watched her back, but she could tell there was something more going on. His reaction to the situation, his twitching fingers, the tightness in his jaw… not to mention the way his heart had leaped when she first told him about the mumbling and the way it was pounding as fast as a rabbit's even now. 

     With a slight grimace (she was going to regret this; she just knew it) Kyoka pulled out her earpiece. "Hey. Bakugou."

     "What."

     "What's really going on here?" she asked softly. Blasty didn't answer; he just tightened his jaw and glared at the floor. Kyoka glowered at him, narrowing her eyes. "Bakugou, come on. I know there's something more to this. Why did mumbling mean something to you?"

     This time, Bakugou visibly grit his teeth, a flicker of pain passing through his eyes. "That's none of your business, Jacks," he growled. "Just focus on making sure there aren't any more of 'em."

     Kyoka frowned, but she knew a losing battle when she saw one. Sighing quietly, she put the earpiece back in just in time to hear All Might declare, "Jirou-shoujo, Bakugou-shounen, your classmates have made it back. Get out of there now."

     "Yes… sir?! Bakugou, what are you doing?!" Kyoka shout-whispered as the explosive boy took off running, headed directly towards the stairwell where the intruder had been. "Bakugou!"

      "Jirou-shoujo! What happened!?"

      "Bakugou's gone AWOL! He's headed towards the intruder! I'm going after him!" Kyoka replied, dashing after her classmate. 

      "Jirou-shoujo, stand down! Get outside; I'll take care of him! JIROU-SHOUJO!!"

     She took out the earpiece and shoved it in her pocket. Stupid move probably, but she needed to hear. Bakugou was easy to follow--his footsteps were heavy and his breathing was almost ragged--but the stranger was another matter. If she wanted to hear him over Bakugou's noise, then she really had to concentrate. On an impulse, she skid to a stop, slamming her earphone jack into the nearest wall.

      "-'s up, Kurogiri-san. I'm gonna need pickup."

     It was him. It was him, and he was asking for pickup. Pickup meant backup. "Bakugou!" Kyoka cried, redoubling her pace. Her classmate was still somehow headed directly towards him, as though drawn by some unstoppable force. Judging by the sound of things, he would be there any-

     The sounds of Bakugou's movement stopped. It was almost as though he'd frozen in place. What did that mean?! Was he okay? Was it worth it to stop and check, or was he in imminent danger and needed her help!?! She kept running, frantically trying to reach him before it was too late. Then all at once she rounded the corner and there he was, standing stock-still, every muscle coiled like a spring. After another meter, Kyoka saw the cause.

     A boy stood at the other end of the hallway, tucked in the shadow of the stairwell. Behind him, even darker than the shadows, swirled a mass of purplish smoke, growing steadily bigger as though to invite him in. He was dressed in gray sweats and a black hoodie, but the hood was down so she could just make out a tanned face, curly dark hair, and emerald eyes. But what stood out most was the expression on the boy's face. It was as though he had somehow managed to combine shock, excitement, horror and longing all into one glance. Then, slowly, the light in his eyes darkened, turning dull and empty all at once.

     "Well now," he murmured. "This isn't how I expected to see you again, Kacchan."

      Kacchan? Kyoka frowned, glancing towards Bakugou. 

     She stiffened.

     The look on the blond boy's face could only be described as stricken. His mouth moved, but he couldn't seem to summon his voice. Kyoka looked back to the greenette. As though sensing the movement, his eyes flashed over her briefly as well, but then returned to Bakugou. 

     A crash resounded through the building, as though a door had been knocked off its hinges, shortly followed by All Might's booming voice. "BAKUGOU-SHOUNEN! JIROU-SHOUJO!!" he bellowed through the halls. Kyoka knew that she should shout back to him, alert him of their location, but she couldn't bring herself to break the tension sparking through the air. 

     The boy meanwhile sighed quietly, regret coloring his tone. "I suppose that's my cue." It was a soft voice, one that could be mistaken as timid if not for the look in his eye. He smiled, but there was something very grim in the gesture. "I'll be back," he promised, stepping towards the swirl of purple smoke.

     "W-Wait," Bakugou gasped, finally regaining his ability to speak.

     "BAKUGOU-SHOUNEN!!" He'd gotten closer. Just a few halls away.

     "See you 'round, Kacchan."

     "JIROU-SHOUJO!!"

     "Izuku!"

     The smoke closed around him, and the boy disappeared, leaving Bakugou with a hand stretched towards empty space just as All Might appeared around the corner. "Bakugou-shounen! Jirou-shoujo!" he sighed in obvious relief as he strode towards them. "What happened?"  

     Kyoka released a long, slow breath as she turned to face the number one hero. "That's what I'd like to know," she said shakily, glancing towards her classmate, her eyes narrowing. "Bakugou, what the hell was that!?"

     "Did you see him?"

     Kyoka blinked. That… was not what she'd expected him to say. "Come again?" Bakugou turned to her, and she took a half-step backwards when she saw something wild, almost manic in his eyes. 

     "Did you see him?!" he repeated harshly. "Did… Was he really… there?"

     "The boy with the green hair you mean?" Kyoka frowned, and immediately heard two people catch their breath sharply. She glanced curiously at All Might, who was still grinning, but his eyes had blown wide, and every muscle in his body had grown stiff. Bakugou, by contrast, seemed to deflate, stumbling backward and slumping against the wall. 

     "He's real," the blonde mumbled, looking dazed. "I… I didn't imagine him. He's real." 

     Kyoka's concern grew at that, and even more so when a strange, choked laugh forced its way from the boy's throat, quickly followed by tears that he didn't even seem to notice.

     "Bakugou-shounen?" All Might asked softly, stepping forward and placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. 

     Bakugou tensed briefly, but when he looked up, he wore a tired, crooked grin. "He's alive," he whispered. "Izuku's alive. And he said he's coming back."

Chapter Text

     Mina was many things: hero-in-training, break dancer, acid wielder, proud snoop, and, most importantly, a fiercely loyal friend. So when Lord Explosion walked into the classroom following the battle trial and an ominous 'chat' with Aizawa-sensei with slightly-glazed eyes and shaking hands, the first thing she did was jab her Horn Buddy in the shoulder and the second was to rush to Blasty's side. 

     "Hey, Bakugou, you okay?" she asked anxiously. "That got pretty scary there at the end."

     "Yeah man, why'd you run off like that? We were worried sick!" Kirishima agreed, walking over, brow furrowed in concern.  

     "Somethin' I gotta get," Bakugou mumbled, pushing past them and heading towards his desk on the far side of the room and grabbing his backpack. Mina could only watch, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip as he rummaged around, pulled out a worn, blueish notebook, and headed back towards the door, evidently unaware of the tense silence that had descended over the class. As he walked back past them, Kirishima caught his breath, his red eyes blown wide. Mina's narrowed in response.

     "Hey Horn Buddy~," she sang, sidling up alongside him and throwing her arm around his shoulder. Kiri jumped, his eyes wide, the faintest hint of a blush touching his cheeks. On any other day, she would have been delighted by that fact, but at the moment, Mina was on a mission. Grinning mischievously, she poked the wrinkly spot between his eyes and asked, "What's with that look?"

     "Wh-What look?" he stuttered back, his voice taking on a slight squeak.

     "Come on, Kiri-kun!" she grinned, but her eyes were narrowed suspiciously. "What do you know?"

     Kiri gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly, obviously nervous. "It… um… isn't really my story to tell…"

     Mina rolled her eyes at that. "Oh please Kiri-kun! You know you can't keep a secret from me~!" He stared at her, and she stared right back, her smile growing increasingly smug as she watched his resolve crumble before her.

     "It's just… that notebook," he muttered finally. He, um… found it last year. He thinks it belongs to Izuku."

     Mina's eyes blew wide, suddenly understanding why her red-haired friend had been reluctant to talk about it. What she did not understand was why Kyoka's head suddenly snapped up three desks away, her dark eyes wide and bright with interest.  

     "What was that?" she asked, a little sharply. Mina blinked at her in surprise. Her friend had returned from her own chat with the teachers some twenty minutes earlier and, up until now, had maintained a stubborn sort of disinterest in the world around her, despite being bombarded with questions by Kaminari and Sero alike.

     "Huh? What was what?" Kiri blinked, equally bemused.

     "That name," the girl clarified, her earphone jacks waving dismissively as though to brush aside the brief distraction. "What was it."

     "Huh? You mean Izuku?" Mina asked, her head cocked to one side.

     Again, Kyoka seemed to twitch involuntarily. "Who is that?!" she asked, suddenly urgent.

     "It… He was an old friend of Bakugou's," Mina replied, too startled to deflect or redirect the question, "but he died a few years ago."

     “What did he look like?” their classmate pressed now, leaning forward at her desk, eyes wide. Others were taking notice, too, starting with Kaminari and Sero, but quickly followed by Shinsou and Tsu-chan. 

     “Uh, honestly I’m not really sure how to describe him,” Kiri-kun admitted. “Ashido and I never met him--I've only seen his photo like, twice. Baukgo transferred into our middle school after he died.”

     “Ooh, wait, idea!” Mina piped up suddenly, whipping out her phone and pulling up a search engine. Her Horn Buddy sidled closer to her, watching as she typed a few different words into the search bar: Izuku, Mustafu, death.

     “Dude,” Kiri-kun groaned, “are you seriously trying to look up his obituary?”

     “Hey, cut me some slack! Given how little I actually know about the guy, I’d say it was pretty creative!” Mina replied defensively, clicking ‘search’. 

     “Yeah, fine, just don’t blame me when Bakugou tries to kill you for being nosy again.”

     “Yeah, yeah,” Mina mumbled, hitting the first result as it appeared: Local Boy Commits Suicide, Quirk Discrimination at its Most Dangerous.

     “Dang, it’s a tabloid article,” Mina sighed as she scrolled past the first paragraph. “Ooh, but there’s still a picture! This is him, right Kiri? Here, lemme just…” A few clicks later, she passed the phone to Kyoka, allowing her to examine the image filling her screen: that of a boy somewhere in his late preteens with a smattering of freckles, green hair, green eyes, and a wobbly smile. 

     “Holy crap,” Kyoka mumbled under her breath, leaning back from the device. Shinsou quickly stepped forward at that, peering at the picture over her shoulder. A deep frown creased his forehead, but otherwise he didn't react.

     “Huh? What’s wrong, Kyoka-kun?” Ochaco frowned, glancing from her to the phone and back again.

     “You know the intruder at the battle trial today?” their classmate replied slowly. “Well, this kid… Midoriya Izuku… He looks just like him.”

      “What?!” Mina practically screeched, vaguely aware that Shinsou looked increasingly disturbed. “You mean like Blasty’s buddy has a clone or something?!”

     “Or something,” Kyoka shrugged helplessly. “He was older than in this photo--more like our age than a middle school kid--but either way, Bakugou definitely thought it was him. Called him ‘Izuku’, and the kid called him ‘Kacchan’. It was weird though. He asked me if I'd seen him too, like he didn't quite believe it.”

     “No way,” Kiri-kun gasped, looking just as dazed and wide-eyed as Kyoka had as he sat heavily back on a desk, oblivious to Iida’s immediate reprimand about respecting school property. Actually, honestly, he looked a little bit horrified. “So back then… And I thought… Oh God I'm such an idiot!”

     “Uh, Kirishima-kun?”

     The red-head shook himself from his stupor to find all eyes on him. He blushed slightly, obviously not expecting their stares, and shifted uncomfortably, his eyes flicking towards the door, probably in anticipation of Blasty’s inevitable return. “Uh…” he managed elegantly, casting a look that screamed help! directly at Mina, who just shrugged in response.

     “Hang on,” Tooru interrupted--wittingly or unwittingly saving him, Mina couldn't tell--her flailing sleeves the only indication of her impassioned movement. “If Bakugou’s friend is still alive, then where has he been all this time?! I mean, doesn’t he have a family or something waiting for him? Why would he just… run away?”

     "Was his family abusive?" came a low, soft voice from the back of the room. (Huh. So even Todoroki joins the conversation. How long has he been listening in?)

     "I doubt it. Inko-san invited me and Bakugou to dinner once; she's the kindest woman I've ever met. Her husband's more quiet, but he didn't seem mean."

     "Then why…?"

     “Heck if I know,” Kirishima groaned, running his fingers through his stiffly-gelled hair. “The police said it was suicide--they found his backpack on a bridge overlooking the river. And heck if Bakugou knows, either. Guy’s been hoping for news about Izuku for years; if he’d known he was alive, he’d’ve blown up the entire country looking for ‘im.”

     “Aww! That’s kind of sweet!” Tooru crooned.

     “I don’t know that I’d call it ‘sweet’ so much as ‘obsessive’,” Shinsou frowned.

     “Either way, just don’t say it to his face,” Mina snorted, reclaiming her phone from Kyoka’s desk. As her classmates began concocting conspiracy theories, she found her eyes drawn to Midoriya Izuku’s face once more, quietly tracing his features with her black-and-gold eyes. He looked… shy. Sweet, pure, like your stereotypical cinnamon roll, but ‘shy’ seemed to dominate his posture and his wobbly smile. Perhaps ‘shy’ was even too light a term. ‘Insecure’ might be a better one. 

      Who are you, Midoriya Izuku? she wondered, closing out of the picture and scrolling back to the top of the article. Actually, it said disappointingly little about Izuku himself, but there was one little itty bitty glaring detail that needed clarification.

     "Hey Kiri-kun."

     "Yeah?"

     "Was Izuku quirkless?"

     Kirishima blinked at her, then his eyes took on a thoughtful expression. "Actually yeah, now that you mention it, Bakugou did say something about that once."

     "Then how the heck did his clone break into the school?"

     The class went dead silent for a few moments. Then everyone exploded.

     "Do you think he was hiding it?"

     "Idiot, why would anyone do that?"

     "Maybe he's a late bloomer?"

     "You kidding? The latest anyone's ever manifested was age seven!"

     "It's not impossible. It could be that he had some sort of random mutation."

     "But that doesn't explain why he disappeared for three years!"

     "We weren't talking about his disappearance, kero, just his quirk."

     "Maybe he was kidnapped for some kind of government experiment!!" Kaminari hollered only to have the entire class stare at him. "What? It would explain how he got a quirk…"

     "What a mad banquet of darkness," Tokoyami sighed wearily.

     "I mean… we don't actually know he has a quirk, do we?"

     "Yeah, it could be that he doesn't have a quirk, just that someone else was using their quirk on him."

     "There was some kind of teleportation quirk."

     Everyone froze, turning towards Kyoka once more. "Seriously?" Sero gaped. "Aren't those, like, super rare?"

     Kyoka shrugged. "I don't think it was his quirk though. I overheard him briefly say something about needing pickup to somebody called Kurogiri."

     "So he really is quirkless?"

     "Not necessarily, kero. I couldn't see any sign of him when All Might-sensei asked me about it," Tsu-chan pointed out. "And I couldn't hear anything either, even though he was apparently talking about my quirk while I was in the stairwell. That could have been the result of a quirk, right?"

     "So maybe some sort of sensory deprivation or manipulation quirk?" Yaomomo mused thoughtfully, "and Jirou-san could still hear him because she wasn't in range?"

     "Maybe, but in that case, why reveal himself at the end?" Ochaco frowned.

     "Government conspiracy! I'm tellin' ya'!!"

     "Maybe you should all just accept that we don't have any answers yet and move on with your lives while the pros handle it?" 

     The entire class jumped and spun around at the sound of Aizawa-sensei's bored voice, only to be sent scrambling for their seats at the sight of his red-eyed glare. "Four seconds. I suppose that's better than last time," he sighed as silence descended over the room. Mina shot a subtle glance towards Bakugou's seat at the front of the room, but the blonde had yet to appear. 

     "Bakugou will not be joining us for the rest of the day. Don't ask why; I'm sick of interruptions," Aizawa continued, and Mina wondered if she'd been as subtle as she thought. 

     School continued as normal for afternoon classes, and at the end of the day, everyone packed up to head home. Kiri-kun was especially eager to get going, no doubt worried about Blasty, and admittedly Mina was too, but when she noticed Shinsou approach their grumpy teacher with a troubled look on his face, she couldn't help her natural curiosity. So, she slowed down, listening intently as her fellow classmates shuffled past her.

     "Aizawa-sensei."

     "Yes Shinsou, what is it?" the man sighed, sounding exhausted as usual.

     "I think I've spoken with the intruder."

     Mina didn't even have to fake fumbling with her textbooks at the boy's confession; she was so surprised she was impressed that she didn't drop her entire backpack.

     "When?" Aizawa-sensei asked, still calm, but something in his voice had grown sharper, more alert.

     "On the first day of school. During the Quirk Assessment. There was a short boy with a black hoodie. I couldn't see his face, but he had curly green hair, and he seemed really interested in my quirk. He even had a journal to write notes."

     "Did you tell him anything about your quirk?" A little more urgency had entered their teacher's tone now.

     "Just its name. But sensei, the way he spoke, it sounded like he's been in and out of UA for years, watching you conduct those tests--he even mentioned the name of a specific student; I don't remember exactly what it was, but he said something about a transformation type quirk--and he all but told me he was there specifically to watch ours as well. And sensei, after telling him what my quirk was called, he started asking me a bunch of questions about it. I didn't have a chance to answer any of them, but he definitely wasn't messing around. Honestly, some of the things he asked were things I'd never even thought about--possible limits and applications for my ability."

     "If they were anything like the questions in the notebook Bakugou showed me, then I can believe it," Aizawa-sensei groaned softly, his voice slightly muffled. Mina chanced a glance towards them and watched their teacher rub his hands over his face. 

     "The weirdest part of it all is that he actually gave me some really good advice on how to apply my quirk. Honestly, I think that's the main reason I passed the test."

     "What did he say?"

     "He said that you value creativity, and that my quirk gives me access to resources no one else has."

     "Well, he wasn't wrong," Aizawa-sensei muttered. "He may have just been trying to goad you into using your quirk so that he could analyze it, but it's impossible to know for certain. Why didn't you come forward sooner?"

     "The way he spoke, I honestly thought he was some sort of upperclassman," Shinsou admitted, looking slightly chagrined.

     "Well the past is in the past," Aizawa sighed. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Shinsou. We'll have a look at the security footage around the exam site. And Ashido?"

     "Y-Yes?" the girl yelped slightly as she was called out and spun to face Aizawa's deadpan stare. Shinsou was frowning at her too, and God in that moment they looked like they could pass as father and son.

     "Next time you decide to eavesdrop, try not to be so obvious about it. It could get you killed out in the field."

     "Yes sir," she cringed in reply.

.oOo.

     "Can you tell us what it's like to work so closely with All Might?!"

     "Are you one of All Might's students?!"

     "Tell us, what's the Symbol of Peace like in person?!"

     "How is he faring as a teacher?!"

     "What are you learning?!"

     "What's it like having All Might as a teacher?!"

     "Hey, are you in All Might's class?! Oh wait, aren't you that sludge villain kid?!"

     "Walk away before I blow that mic all the way to Tokyo," Blasty grit his teeth in a snarl, grabbing Mina's and Kirishima's wrists and muscling his way through the throng of reporters desperate to snap up students for interviews. Mina stumbled after her friend, a little touched by his rough show of affection for them. As soon as they made it past the school gates he released them, growling, "Frickin' vultures," under his breath. 

     "Yeah no kidding. I mean, we're minors! It's not really manly to harass us all like that," Kiri-kun agreed.

     Mina smiled at that; Kirishima had apparently spent the night in a sleepover with Bakugou, and it looked like it had helped. It was nice to have Blasty at least mostly back to his old self. That didn't mean she wasn't still hella curious about what went down yesterday, but she knew better than to pester the guy right now. She just hoped that the rest of the class could pick up on that too (Kaminari specifically came to mind). 

     Shaking her head to clear it, Mina glanced back one more time at the crowd of reporters, and snickered as she saw a group of three had rushed up to Aizawa-sensei, thinking they had him cornered (which was fair, considering he looked as worn-out and scruffy as ever in his plain black jumpsuit).

     "Please sir, can we have an interview with All Might? Also, what's your deal; you're kind of a mess…"

     "All Might's not on campus today. Now get out of here; you've disturbed my students enough already," the man sighed, taking the last straggler-- is that Aoyama? --by the shoulder and hauling him inside before heading towards the classroom. 

     "Alright, if you won't bring All Might out here, then I'll go in and get him myself," one especially enthusiastic reporter determined, stepping forward. Only to shriek in alarm when a red light turned on and a series of metal sheets dropped from the wall, completely sealing off the entrance and leaving Kiri-kun and Mina gaping over their shoulders.

     "Homeroom's still in three minutes," Aizawa-sensei warned as he passed them, his hands shoved into his pockets.

     "Right, sensei!"

     They rushed up to the classroom with about thirty seconds to spare and hurried to their seats. Mina dropped into the chair just as Aizawa-sensei stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. “Alright, I went over the footage of yesterday’s battle training. You all did very well for the most part. Bakugou, we’ve already discussed this at length, but running headlong into a dangerous situation when you didn’t have very much information was a stupid move. You need to get your emotions under control if you want to be an effective hero.”

     “Yeah whatever,” Blasty grumbled, but Mina knew him well enough by now to tell that her friend felt guilty about the whole thing.

     “Jirou, well done bringing the intruder to everyone’s attention, but if anything like this happens again, don’t isolate yourself from the teachers, got it? Just because an ally decides to make an ill-advised decision does not mean that you have clearance to do the same.”

     “Yes sir.”

     “Then let’s get down to business. Our first task will decide your future,” Aizawa-sensei glowered ominously. Mina felt the collective chill of anxious anticipation pass through the room before he continued. “You all need to pick a class representative.” After a moment of relief, everyone began to make their bid for office. 

     “Pick me, guys! I wanna be class rep!” Kiri-kun whooped.

     “I’ll take it!” 

     “Yeah, you’re gonna need me.”

     “Someone with style would be best-”

     “Ooh, me! I’m totally the right pick!” Mina cheered, springing out of her seat.

     “Silence everyone, please!” Iida finally took command of the room. “The class representative’s duty is to lead! That is not something just anyone can do, as a leader must first hold the trust of all of their subordinates! Therefore, the most logical way to fill this position is democratically! I therefore believe we should conduct a class vote!”

     “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

     “We’ve only known each other a few days. How would we know who’s best to lead?”

     “Yeah, won’t everyone just vote for themselves?”

     “Perhaps, but won’t that make it even more obvious who everyone considers the best if anyone does get more than one vote?” Iida insisted, and eventually everyone agreed. As Aizawa-sensei couldn’t be bothered to take charge and Iida was the one to make the suggestion, he led the process. At his request, Yaomomo formed nineteen small slips of paper to use as ballots and the enthusiastic bluenette passed them around to each student. Silence fell for a few minutes as everyone’s pencils scratched away. Mina simply wrote down her own name and then leaned back in her chair, smiling brightly as Yaomomo collected the papers and Iida wrote everyones’ names and then results on the board. 

Aoyama Yuuga: I 
Ashido Mina: I 
Asui Tsuyu:
Iida Tenya: II
Uraraka Ochaco: II
Ojirou Mashirao:
Kaminari Denki: I
Kirishima Eijirou: I
Kouda Kouji: I
Satou Rikkido: I
Shouji Mezo:
Jirou Kyoka: IIII
Sero Hanta: I
Tokoyami Fumikage:
Todoroki Shouto:
Hagakure Tooru: I
Bakugou Katsuki:
Shinsou Hitoshi:
Yaoyorozu Momo: III

     Kyoka blinked, her eyes wide as she stared at the results on the board. “Okay,” she said slowly. “I honestly wasn’t expecting that.”

     “Well, you did keep a cool head during the crazy stuff at the battle training,” Tsu-chan pointed out, tilting her head at her.

     “Well yeah, but-”

     “Just accept it, Jacks,” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Anyone who can keep me in line has potential, get me?”

     Mina gaped. “Blasty, you voted for Kyoka?! Dang girl, that’s high praise!!” A few people laughed at that, and Bakugou just glowered, slapping a hand over his cheek and ducking his head. Was he blushing?! Or just irritated? It was difficult to tell with him.

     “Alright then. Jirou’s class rep and Yaoyorozu’s deputy. Iida and Uraraka can be secretary and treasurer; I don’t care who’s who.”

     “Treasurer!” Ochaco’s hand shot up instantly. “I’m really good with money stuff!”

     “Then I will graciously accept the position of secretary,” Iida nodded to her with an approving--if slightly disappointed--smile. 

     “Good. Now let’s move on.”

     Before long, morning classes had ended and everyone was headed to lunch. Mina eagerly plopped down beside Kiri-kun, bumping him with her hip until he’d slid over so that she could sit in front of Blasty. The blond boy quirked an irritated eyebrow at her, taking a bite of his extra-spicy curry without so much as blinking.

     “So~?” she prompted, smiling at him.

     “So what?” he sighed back, obviously resigned to his fate.

     “So, why'd you vote for Kyoka-chan~? I’da thought you'd vote for yourself!” Mina broke into a grin as the explosive boy immediately rose to the bait.

     “None of your business, Panda Eyes!”

     “Um, excuse me, you’re my friend, if you have a crush, then it is my bee’s wax,” Mina replied, going for her best sassy pout and trying not to blush as Kiri-kun snorted into his noodles.

     “The frick-!?! That's not what this was about, ya' idiot!!”

     “Oh~? Then there's no harm in telling me, right?”

     “Dammit, Panda Eyes!” Bakugou groused, then shoveled another bite of curry in his mouth, glowering at the table as he struggled to collect his thoughts. Mina tried not to laugh, but she didn't even bother biting back a grin; Blasty was just too fun to mess with. “Look, it's like I said earlier,” he grunted finally, “she proved herself to me; that's it. I mean, not everyone can handle my crap, and then there was Bags on top of it, and when I went AWOL… Well, she proved that she would have my back, you know?”

     “Aww!” Mina squealed, pressing her hands against her cheeks.

     “Dude,” Kiri-kun beamed, wiping tell-tale tears from his eyes, “that was incredible!”

     “Oh good grief.”

     “No bro, I mean it! That was super manly-”

     Without warning, an ear-splitting, electronic wail pierced the air, sending Mina’s hands clapping over her ears. “What the heck?!” she yelled, shooting to her feet.

      “Warning. Level three security breach. Please evacuate in a calm and orderly fashion.”

     “The hell is that supposed to mean?!”

     “It means we’ve gotta move! Come on!”

     In minutes, it seemed that they were lost in the seething crowd of people, knocked and buffeted about by a sea of elbows and stamping feet. Mina could vaguely hear Kirishima shouting, trying to get everyone to settle down. It didn’t appear to be working, but at least he was trying. Somewhere off to the left, she could hear Blasty cursing someone out for stepping on his foot. Then, all at once, there came the roar of an engine and a sharp, slightly tinny voice bellowing, “EVERYBODY CALM DOWN!!”

     Heads throughout the hallway snapped up to where none other than Iida had appeared over the main exit to the hallway, pressed against the wall he had apparently hit, clutching a megaphone in his hand. For a second, Mina wondered how the heck he’d gotten up there, until she caught sight of Kyoka, Yaomomo, and Ochaco standing by one of the windows, Yaomomo’s shirt unbuttoned and Ochaco nervously holding her hands close together, watching Iida, and she suddenly understood.

     “Everyone, there is no need to panic!” Iida continued, still calling through the megaphone. “It’s just the media outside; everything’s fine! Now remember who we are! We are UA students, and we need to act like it! Let’s show everyone that we’re the best of the best!”

     The screams quickly transformed into nervous laughter and murmuring as various people peered out the windows lining the hall, confirming his story and rejoicing as the police arrived to get the stupid reporters off the campus. Meanwhile, Iida peeled himself away from the wall and kicked off, floating back to where the other members of their class’s student council were waiting, all wearing relieved smiles. Kyoka reached up with one of her earphone jacks to pull him back to ground level, and Ochaco released her quirk, returning gravity to him. Mina simply allowed herself a nod of approval; they really had chosen the best people for their class officers. Even if Iida had looked a little bit like the emergency exit sign up there.

     And if Blasty and Pikachu overheard her snickering and by the end of the day half the class started calling Iida 'Emergency Exit', then how was that Mina's fault?

Outtake:

     "Come on in, boys," Inko smiled, holding the door open for the two kids standing on her porch with overnight bags slung over their shoulders. 

     "Thanks, Inko-san," Eijirou grinned at her, hopping inside and pulling Katsuki along with him. "Thanks for having us over." 

     "I'm happy to have you! It's too quiet around the house with just myself and Hisashi," the green-haired woman replied brightly, although she couldn't help casting a nervous glance towards Katsuki as she said it. The blond boy merely grunted in acknowledgement, as quiet as Mitsuki had warned her he might be. 

     Whatever Katsuki had wanted to tell her, it must be weighing on him rather heavily.

      "Well, why don't you set your things in Izuku's o-old room then?" Inko prompted them, only faltering slightly as she gave the suggestion. 

      (Katsuki found one of his journals.)

     She'd long since given up on trying to call Izuku's room 'the guest room', especially since she still couldn't bring herself to remove all of the hero memorabilia that he had collected over the years.

     (He might still be alive.)

     She had to remind herself that it was his old room, not his current one.

     (The police didn’t believe them.)

     It still hurt every time she managed it.

     Once the boys were settled in, they jumped at the chance to help out in the kitchen, Katsuki working with a swift, rhythmic efficiency to help her prepare the food while Eijirou cheerfully pitched in by setting the table and proactively cleaning the dishes as they finished with them. He waved her away good-naturedly when she tried to protest, reminding her that as a guest, it was his duty to contribute. He chattered a lot leading up to Hisashi's return home from work. 

     He must be nervous, too.

     She and Eijirou took the lead in maintaining conversation over dinner, although she occasionally prompted Hisashi to tell them a little bit more about his day, as well. He smiled quietly as he told them about one of the latest children he’d started working with, a boy with the ability to solidify light into objects. Being a private quirk counselor wasn’t as glamorous as his old research job in France, but at least it still gave her husband a chance to be involved in what he loved. A lot of what he was saying about quirk factors and the mechanics of the ability itself went over Inko’s head, but it at least intrigued Katsuki enough for the boy to raise his eyes from his barely-touched plate. 

     As dinner came to an end, Hisashi and Eijirou volunteered to clean up, since Inko and Katsuki had taken the lead in preparing dinner. It was about that time that Inko finally worked up the courage to gently rest her hand on the boy’s arm and ask him what was on his mind. 

     “Obasan,” he whispered eventually, dragging his eyes up to meet her gaze. “I saw him.”

     Inko’s breath hitched in her throat, her hand tensing against his skin, heart pounding as desperate hope warred for dominance with grim practicality. 

     “And this time,” Katuski added, a little bit more fiercely, “I wasn’t the only one.”

     Inko forced herself to breathe, bit the inside of her lip to ground herself and refused to let her vision tunnel as the hope won and her heart abruptly began to settle.

     “Tell me everything.”

Chapter Text

     Shouta lowered the notebook with a groan, reaching up to rub the space between his eyes with the heel of his hand. One week into the new school year, and he already knew that his new class was going to leave him with worse migraines than the last three combined. And it wasn't just because of the class itself; the strange and frankly alarming circumstances that seemed to follow them around would be a decisive part of it too, from the mysterious intruder to the decayed gates during the media storm yesterday. He wanted to believe they were separate incidents, especially considering that the first intruder had demonstrated his ability to come and go without anyone noticing, but his gut told him otherwise. Mindlessly, Shouta grabbed his mug of coffee and took a sip, making a face as he realized that it had gone cold in the hours he'd spent decoding the disturbingly remarkable notebook Bakugou had lent to him a couple of days before. 

     The author had written in three different languages: Japanese, English, and French (why French?), both with the traditional alphabets and shorthand, implying that some of his notes were taken on the fly and others with more thought. Honestly, it wasn't so much a code as a deterrent, but the almost seamless flow from one language to another, sometimes in the middle of a thought or paragraph, was nothing short of vexing. Truth be told though, it was a testament to the author's intelligence. Despite the nature of mixed language and shorthand notes, his grammar and vocabulary were astoundingly good in all three, even when he switched languages mid-sentence. He didn't really seem to have a pattern to it, which reeked of fluency in all three languages. It was almost frightening, the amount of time and dedication it must have taken the writer to learn it all, but truthfully, the information it contained was what terrified Shouta the most. 

Aizawa 'Eraserhead' Shouta
Quirk: Erasure
Affiliation: Independent underground hero, UA hero course teacher

• Completely nullifies the quirks of those in his line of sight

Pros:

• Can erase deactivate/prevent activation of any emitter or transformation type quirks

Cons:

• Cannot erase heteromorphic quirks (but he can erase any emitter/transformation-like effects; see notes)

• Can only erase the quirks of those directly in his line of sight (quirk effects sometimes last beyond line of sight; see notes)

• No offensive power, only levels the playing field (except potential disorientation)

• Possible that his quirk causes dry eye or a similar condition (see notes)

Notes/Questions:

• Highly intelligent/observant

• Specializes in information/recon ops and stealth missions

• Martial arts expert (Acrobatic style, very adept with his capture weapon)

• Specializes in one-on-one combat and sneak attack (Capable in more drawn-out fights, but appears to slow down over time)

• With goggles, it's difficult to tell whose quirk he's erasing, especially since it only requires line of sight, not eye-contact

• He has a tell: his quirk has an emitter side effect where his hair floats when it is active (also appears to affect his scarf; research further?!) 

• Scarf is his capture weapon; likely a carbon fiber alloy judging by flexibility combined with strength; (Does it float as an added emitter side effect, or is there some element of electronics? (Edit: probably the former))

• What sort of energy is 'emitted' to affect a quirk factor? Can it be replicated/blocked? 

• Doesn't affect heteromorphic quirks; would indicate that Erasure doesn't attack the quirk DNA or quirk factors themselves but rather the part of the brain that controls quirk activation (heteromorphics don't require any 'activation'; the 'mutation' doesn't disappear)

• Mental type of energy? Possible similarities to telepathy/telekinesis? (Emitter side effects of floating hair/scarf support this theory)

• Sometimes appears to have a lingering effect even after subjects leave line of sight (Does that happen consciously? Are some quirks/potentially mental states more susceptible to continued deactivation than others?)

• Can't erase effects if he can't see the person to whom the quirk belongs, even if he can see the person affected; can’t erase the quirk if he can’t see the person (What counts as ‘seeing’ the person?? Needs view of skin, or just clear view of figure?! (research further!!))

• What exact effect would Erasure have on emitter-like transformation quirks; Shishikura Seiji as a potential example; could Erasure cause the limbs to revert while still detached? Possible severe injury/bloodloss could result (what implications could that have for when Erasure loses effect?) Would his limbs snap back into place? Turn to mush?

• He has to blink more often the longer his quirk use extends; it would appear that his quirk causes some sort of strain on his eyes

• Is there a limit to the number of quirks he can erase at once?

     There was more. So much more, all marked and connected with color-coded annotations (which were usually in Japanese). Patrol routes, schedules, further theories about his quirk’s ability to affect people through clothing, the name of his cat-!? He'd known something was off from the moment Bakugou recognized his capture weapon during the quirk test, but frankly, Shouta felt more than a little violated, especially considering that almost none of this information was public knowledge--and even the small bit that was had to be searched for. What it meant was that this person, as Shinsou had suggested, had likely been watching him--as well as about another two dozen pros, a few Hero Public Safety Commission agents, and fifteen or so small-time villains in this book alone--for an extended period of time, perhaps for years. Not to mention the fact that this was notebook number thirty-two according to the title and it was barely halfway full-!! How many more pros had been unknowingly compromised?! And now, this unknown entity was watching Shouta's students. To make matters even more complicated, if Bakugou, Jirou, and now Shinsou were to be believed, it looked as though this 'unknown entity' may very well be a child the same age as his students!! 

     He'd pulled the police case file on Midoriya Izuku as soon as Bakugou had left his office two days earlier. There wasn't much there: the kid had disappeared, his mother had filed a missing person's report as soon as she could, and a search had begun. His backpack was found on a bridge, still containing all of his textbooks, identification, and a short note to his mother, but there was no sign of the owner. There wasn't even a sign of a struggle. It didn't take long for the police to start dredging the river, but they never found anything. No body, no nothing. But, because there were no leads, witnesses, or otherwise evidence for a kidnapping, the police were still forced to make the unfortunate conclusion two weeks later: suicide.

     And now Midoriya Izuku might be back from the grave. 

     Unfortunately though, he hadn't been able to confirm any of it. Somehow, even though they had at least three witnesses to the boy's presence on campus, it seemed that not a single security camera had caught sight of him. Nezu was both surprised and thoroughly impressed by that particular development, but Shouta just felt his blood pressure rise a little bit higher. Maybe the problem child really did have some kind of invisibility quirk, even though every known type of registration had him marked as 'functionally quirkless'. Not even a vestigial mutation to fool anyone with.

     Shouta could feel the beginnings of a headache pounding through his skull; there were too many questions. Who was this kid? Where had he been all this time? What were his motives and who was supporting him (because Shouta refused to believe this child had the resources to be acting alone, and anyway Jirou had mentioned someone named 'Kurogiri' yesterday, too)? Were his actions being taken under duress? Was the boy in danger? How much danger were his students in, or even Shouta himself? And what was he supposed to do about it now?

     The exhausted pro hero shot a glance at the clock. 7:15 am. He had to get to campus. Good thing he'd slept in his hero clothes (what three hours he'd gotten before his anxieties pulled him back into the world of the living). Groaning, Shouta pushed himself to his feet and grabbed his mug of cold coffee, intent upon reheating it as he idly flicked on the radio to keep him company.

      "-landslide on Nabu Island was equally mysteriously redirected last evening just before it reached a highly populated recreational beach area. No heroes are stepping forward to claim the rescue, and authorities are beginning to wonder if, perhaps, it was simply a freak--and extremely fortunate--happenstance, however the sole reported witnesses of the event, Shimano Mahoro and Katsuma, ages eight and six, claim that there was a hero present, although if the man was in fact involved, the question of whether he is an underground hero avoiding media attention or a vigilante remains to be answered. In other news, yet another pro hero suspected of tax evasion and embezzlement has been arrested by the poli-"

     Shouta turned the knob to change the channel to something more local as he set his kettle on the stove, only half-listening as he absentmindedly patted Nezuko's head. The cat mewled at him, searching for breakfast no doubt.

     "-stage situation in downtown Tokyo at the bank on 3rd Street and Main, where four villains have broken into the vault! They've taken several of the employees here hostage, as well as a young girl who was visiting with her mother when- Oh my goodness!"

      Shouta paused as he placed Nezuko's meal on the floor beside her, his curiosity piqued. Only to groan as, even over the radio, he heard the overly-exuberant cry of, "Never fear!! For I AM HERE!!!"

     Of course he was. Of course he was throwing himself into hero work at 7:25am when he was supposed to be going to class and he had students that needed him! They were supposed to be doing rescue training today and if it was just him and Thirteen, it would be a heck of a lot harder to manage all his rowdy kids. But enough of that; he didn't have time to wait around. Instead he flicked the radio off, grabbed a jelly pouch from the fridge, pet Nezuko's head one last time and hurried to campus.

      Thankfully his students were all waiting for him when he walked into his homeroom class at exactly 8:00am, utterly silent and eyes bright and eager as they waited for the morning's announcements. He wondered if Jirou or Shouji had been listening out for him. 

     "You're learning," he acknowledged simply, taking his own place behind the lecture podium. "Now, class rep, go over the day's announcements."

     "Yes sir."

     The day passed at its usual pace. Shouta did his best to catch up on the sleep he'd lost. He calculated that he managed to get another hour or so in before his students returned from lunch, ready for Hero Basic Training. "Today, we'll be doing something a little bit different," he announced. "Me, All Might, and another faculty member are gonna oversee your training at an off-campus facility." Eagerly whispered and I-think-I'm-whispering-but-I'd-die-if-this-was-a-stealth-mission comments immediately broke out through the entire classroom and Shouta resisted the urge to groan audibly. He really did not get enough sleep to deal with this.

     "What kind of training will we be participating in, sensei?" called Iida, much too forcefully as usual, his arms moving at sharp angles that were going to take someone's eye out one of these days.

     "Rescue training. We're going to start teaching you how to deal with disasters: fires, shipwrecks, landslides, things like that. Anyway, grab your costumes if you want and head outside. I'll meet you there."

     Most--oh who was he kidding all --of the class showed up in their hero costumes, excited to try their gear in a new setting. He supposed that he could respect their eagerness to learn. He just hoped that no one had bitten off more than they could chew, diving into a new situation in costumes they were still getting used to. Getting everyone on the bus was its own special hell. Not because any of his students were being especially difficult, but rather because Iida was a little more exuberant about keeping everyone organized than Shouta was prepared to handle at the moment. Thank heavens for Jirou, quietly stepping in and reminding him that there was no assigned seating, so how about he just take roll to make sure they didn't leave anyone behind? When the bus finally started on its way, Shouta closed his eyes, falling into a light doze, lulled by his students' conversations. 

     "…hard for anyone else to understand…"

     "…so glad the media weren't there…"

     "…like the new costume, Yaomomo! It really…"

     "What was Present Mic saying about…"

     "So Bakugou, I tend to just say whatever's on my mind, so I have to ask: what exactly happened during the battle training the other day?"

     Shouta startled awake as all other conversation on the bus vanished in an instant. Obviously, Asui wasn't the only one who had been wondering. 

     "C-Come on, guys, that's not manly, putting Bakugou on the spot like that," Kirishima's voice piped up. Shouta could imagine him nervously fiddling with his hair while simultaneously reaching out to make sure his friend didn't explode on anyone. Literally.

     "Nah, it's fine," came Bakugou's weary sigh, and with it Shouta stiffened slightly. He was actually rather surprised the blonde gave in so easily. Trying to get him to talk after the training had been worse than pulling teeth (which he may or may not know due to personal experience). "But there are some things I'm not gonna talk about, get it? So don't bother pressing."

     "That's fine," Asui spoke up again. "You don't have to talk about anything you don't want to."

     "So how much did these two knuckleheads already spill?"

     "Hey, that's not fair!" Ashido whined, and Shouta rolled his eyes. 

     "Gonna deny it, Panda Eyes?"

     "Well no… But Kyoka started it!"

     "That's kind of true," Jirou admitted guiltily. "Mina and Kirishima mentioned the name Izuku and… well, I couldn't help prying. Kirishima told us he was a friend of yours that had supposedly committed suicide, Mina found a picture in an article that mentioned he was quirkless, and I told them he appeared at the training, but that's it."

     Bakugou's irritation was as audible as his resignation when he sighed. "So what d'ya wanna know?"

     "Ooh! Ooh!" Hagakure's squeal broke out. "How did you meet?!"

     "Our moms were friends. Next?"

     "Okay, but how old were you?" Hagakure insisted.

     "You think I'd remember? It was before preschool."

     "Awww!!!"

     "So why was he at the training?" Sero asked next, right to the point.

     "The hell would I know?"

     "How did you know it was him?" Asui questioned curiously.

     "You freakin' kidding me? Looked just like him; duh!"

     "No, I mean before that, kero. You knew it was him right? That's why you went running in to begin with."

     "Oh, that. It had to do with what Jacks overheard. Izuku was kind of infamous for mumbling when he thought things through, and 'cuz he was quirkless and his dad was a researcher, he was kinda obsessed with quirks. Used to take all kinds of notes on hero and villain battles and the quirks of people around him. When Jacks mentioned someone was mumbling about your quirk, it just kinda clicked."

     "But, I mean, the dude was dead, right? Why'd you still think it was him?" Kaminari piped up, and Shouta winced at the lack of tact.

     For awhile, Bakugou didn't answer, and Shouta could feel the levels of increasing tension in the back of the bus. Eventually, it was Yaoyorozu who murmured quietly, "Would you want to give up on a childhood friend, Kaminari?"

     "W-Well… Yeah, I get it. Sorry, man."

     "Yeah, whatever," Bakugou mumbled. Shouta knew that wasn't the full story. He'd managed to get a few more details out of the kid a few days ago, specifically concerning the sludge villain attack and Bakugou's surreal encounter with Midoriya in the middle of it, but even that hadn't felt like the full story. However, it had been all his student was willing to say. 

     "So when did he disappear?"

     "'Bout three years back. We were twelve."

     "Why did he call you 'Kacchan'?!"

     "We were frickin' four, got it? And no, you can't call me that!"

     "So if he's really been alive all this time, what's he been doing?" Satou asked.

     "Like I'd know," Bakugou snorted, and at least he sounded like he was mostly back to his regular self.

     From there the conversation devolved into increasingly outlandish conspiracy theories until Bakugou finally couldn't take it anymore, an explosion with the force of a firecracker going off in his palm as he yelled at everyone to back off. Fortunately, they'd just pulled into the parking lot by then, so the driver didn't run them off road when he jumped in surprise. 

     Thirteen was waiting for them by the front steps of the USJ, greeting his class with a cheerful wave. He could see Uraraka squeal a little bit as she recognized the Space Hero, but whatever. It was expected that you'd have a few fangirls or boys in a Heroics course. As long as she didn't get distracted from the exercise, he couldn’t be bothered to care. 

     "Where's All Might? Shouldn't he be here by now?" Shouta frowned.

     "Actually, he apparently overworked himself this morning," Thirteen sighed. Shouta merely groaned. He'd seen that one coming. 

      Whatever, we should still be able to handle it, he sighed, stepping back as Thirteen began introducing his class to the USJ and reminding them of the dangers inherent in quirks as a whole. Shouta rolled his eyes as applause followed the short speech, but a moment later, he felt his hair prickle on the back of his neck. 

     Shouta stiffened, spinning around as the lights throughout the USJ suddenly popped and shattered, glass tinkling against the floor. Every alarm bell in Shouta's brain was going off, thinking of the strange events at the battle simulation, the decayed entrance to UA, and now a smoky purplish cloud that was appearing around the center fountain-- just like Bakugou and Jirou described. 

     "Shit!" he heard Jirou hiss under her breath as his students noticed the mass as well. Bakugou was staring too, his eyes wide and shocked and worryingly hopeful as he focused on the cloud. The pro hero swore under his breath, vowing that he would get the full story of his and Midoriya's relationship when this was over as he lifted his goggles to hide his gaze, quickly shifting his position so that he was between the purplish mass and his class. 

     A figure stepped out of the smoke, tall and slightly gaunt, with pale blue hair and… were those hands covering his body?! More figures appeared out of the smoke, including a giant covered in scars with a bird-like face and an exposed brain, but strangely Shouta did manage to find a little comfort in the fact that none of them matched the description of Midoriya Izuku. 

     "Where is he?" the first villain hissed, his voice harsh and raspy, like he was ill. "Where's All Might?! He was supposed to be here!! Deku lied! He lied to me to make me look bad in front of Sensei!"

     "Deku did try to call off the attack," a new voice, deep and echoing oddly, sighed as the smoke took the shape of a tall figure dressed in slacks and a formal vest. So this was the teleporter. Kurogiri, right? "Perhaps this was the reason."

     "Hold on, has the exercise started already?" Kirishima frowned. "I thought we were rescuing people?"

     "Stay back!" Eraserhead snapped sharply, slipping fully into 'pro hero mode'. "This is real. Those are villains!”

     “What?!”

     “Why aren’t the alarms going off?”

     “It’s probably someone’s quirk.”

     “Kaminari, use your quirk to try and contact the school. Thirteen, protect the students. I'll hold them back!"

     He charged without another thought, leaping from the top step towards the crowd of villains below, vaguely hearing Kirishima's voice yelling at someone before focusing his attention on a group of three villains that had stepped to the fore, extending various limbs towards him. Long range attackers. Deal with them quickly. 

     A flash of his eyes, and all three villains were left fumbling in confusion before his scarf whipped out of nowhere to seize them around the waist and send them flying in all directions. Somewhere to one side, he heard a villain calling out a warning that they were up against Eraserhead, and that he could somehow cancel out quirks. 

     Eraserhead frowned at that, his thoughts spinning. He'd thought that the portal these villains arrived by was the same as the one Midoriya Izuku escaped by, but if that were true, then shouldn't these villains be more well-informed? They didn't know the exact nature and function of his quirk, nor were they aware of his ability to seize the four-armed heteromorphic villain with his scarf and send him flying and then slamming to the ground. Not to mention they didn't recognize him initially, when the sketch in Midoriya's journal was more than accurate enough. Could they have been separate incidents after all? Could it all just be a coincidence?

     A coincidence that he recognized at least six different villains from Midoriya's notebook, including the extremely specific weaknesses that were mentioned in his notes?

      Yeah right.  

     He may not have known exactly what was going on, but that didn't stop him from taking advantage of those notes. A villain with a taser quirk got thrown into the nearby shipwreck zone's lake (he electrocuted himself when wet). A man with massive, blunt claws got tossed into a tree (his mole quirk made him scared of heights and virtually blind). A woman with a plant-control quirk got caught in his capture weapon and dragged forward so that Eraserhead could slam his foot into her ankle; she screamed and collapsed in an instant (she had an old injury that had never properly healed). 

     Unfortunately, he got so caught up in taking down these slightly lesser villains that he didn't realize the teleporter had disappeared until he heard shouting in the plaza above him. Eraserhead grit his teeth, but he couldn't afford to get distracted now. He just had to focus on taking out the small fry and trust that Thirteen would keep the students safe. Slowly, bit by bit, he whittled down their numbers, but he knew that he was flagging. At least all of the long range fighters had been taken care of, so he could afford to blink a little more often. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and spun towards it. There was the man with blue hair, charging forward with his hands splayed open, gaze hidden behind the hand on his face, but presumably fixated on him. 

    "Final boss," Eraserhead muttered as he raced forward, activating his quirk as a precaution as he struck with his elbow, slamming him in the chest only for the other man to roll slightly to the side and catch it in one hand. 

     "First it was twenty-three seconds. Then it was twenty-four seconds. Then twenty. Then seventeen," he hissed with a crazed, dry-lipped grin, crimson eyes burning behind the pale hand attached to his face. "It was hard to see when you were jumping around like that, but I found your tell: your hair. When it drops, it means you've stopped using your quirk; you're having to blink more often."

     So then he hasn't read Midoriya's notes either. If he had, he'd already know that. But he wasn't wrong. In spite of his best efforts, Eraserhead couldn't stop his eyes from closing. Instantly, he felt a strange rush of foreign energy passing through him, accompanied by a breathy, manic laugh and flash of pain.

     "Don't work yourself too hard now, or you may just fall apart!" the villain cackled. The pain grew and Eraserhead was forced to kick the man's legs out from under him and leap back, dodging strikes from other members of the group as he tried to assess the damage. 

      He destroyed my elbow. Some sort of disintegration quirk then? He only went skin-deep though. Is that the extent of his ability or was he just playing around with me?

     "That annoying quirk of yours isn't suited for drawn out fights against big groups, is it," the main boss sneered as he pushed himself upright once more. "Don't you think you're a little bit out of your element here, Eraserhead? You're much better at working stealthily. You're known for surprise attacks, not fighting head to head." His head tilted to one side, observing him with keen interest in those gleaming red eyes. The man was insane, but he obviously wasn't stupid. "But despite knowing that, you didn't hesitate to dive right in, just to put your students at ease."

     Eraserhead didn't have time to answer. Three villains charged him at once, forcing him to focus on them, gritting his teeth and avoiding using his right arm as he lashed out, using his capture weapon, keeping his distance where possible, throwing one into the other and going for the knock-out. When he turned back to the blue-haired villain, he'd reached his feet and Eraserhead could hear the crazed grin as he called, "Would you look at that; you're still standing! You really are so cool Eraserhead! But you should know--I am not the final boss."

     He sensed it. Sensed the vast presence that caused him to whirl around, quirk activated. He saw the massive black figure, the wild rolling eyes, the bared teeth and the exposed brain. He felt the dread pulsing in his stomach as the villain raised one massive fist. He began to leap away, bringing his scarf taut in front of him as a weak barrier against the strike. 

     "Nomu, halt!"

     Everything and everyone around Eraserhead froze in an instant, including the giant villain that he was sure had been about to kill him (or at least about to try).

     Well, not quite everyone. The hands villain, after a millisecond of growing tense, reached up to his neck and began to scratch at it, careful to keep his pinkies raised (something Eraserhead took careful note of) but still hard enough to draw blood.

     "Kurogiri," he hissed, "how could you?!"

     Eraserhead turned to see the smoky villain take shape behind a new figure wearing plain gray sweatpants, crimson high tops, and a black jacket, the hood raised to conceal his face. He was short, but he carried himself with his head held high--his very aura demanded attention and respect. It seemed a very different person than the one in the photo he'd found with the police file, but still, could it be…?

     "My apologies, Shigaraki Tomura," the smoky villain said, inclining his head to the blue-haired man and pulling Eraserhead out of his scrutiny, "but I had to follow orders."

     "You've ruined it; you've ruined everything, Kurogiri!!" 'Shigaraki' shrieked. "We were going to kill him; we were going to kill All Might!!"

     "And how do you propose to do that when All Might isn't here?" the newcomer asked coldly, his voice flat and emotionless as he stepped forward, briefly waving a hand (was that sign language?) towards the warp villain, who promptly disappeared. "Do you realize what you've done, Tenko?"

     "I warned you not to call me that, Deku!!" 

     "If you want me to stop treating you like a child, then stop acting like one!" 'Deku' shot back. He didn’t sound angry though, at least not in the same way that Shigaraki was. No, Deku seemed more to radiate this strange mixture of parental disappointment and sheer disdain that even had what other villains remained conscious around them hanging their heads and shuffling their feet awkwardly with shame and embarrassment.

     Perhaps Shouta should ask for lessons.

     "The stunt you pulled yesterday with the media was bad enough, but this is nothing short of insubordination! Do you realize what your actions have cost us? Do you know how many of our allies have become casualties of your childishness? Not to mention that any hope we had of the element of surprise is gone! This could only have worked once, Tenko, and only if All Might had been here from the start! What, were you hoping that somehow he would be summoned by the deaths of his students without the rest of the UA faculty finding out? Or was this just a pitiful temper tantrum when you realized things weren't going to go your way?"

     All at once Shigaraki's scrabbling hands pulled away from his throat and he charged forward, screeching in rage. Deku merely sidestepped the other man's unrefined attack, carefully avoiding his hands as he struck a precise blow to the middle of his spine, leaving him staggering and gasping for breath. "We're pulling out, Tenko. Whether you agree with me or not."

     Eraserhead knew that he should attack--this individual was obviously the true leader of the group; take him down and everything should fall apart--but somehow he couldn't bring himself to do it. Maybe because he'd stopped Nomu from attacking him? Or maybe, more likely (more rationally), because he obviously intended to pull his forces back, and he was the only one, apparently, able to supersede Shigaraki's (Tenko's?) orders. Frankly, at this point, he'd rather let them slip away than risk his students getting caught up in any more fighting. 

     And that might have been precisely what happened, if the door hadn't suddenly been blown off of its hinges.

     "HAVE NO FEAR, STUDENTS!" All Might's booming voice snarled as he entered the building, "BECAUSE I AM HERE!"

     "NOMU, GET HIM!! DESTROY THE SYMBOL OF PEACE!!"

     A blast of air pressure sent Eraserhead staggering back. When he glanced back, Nomu had vanished, charging up the stairs to fight All Might. Shigaraki's eyes were manic as he cheered the giant on, and Deku's hood had been knocked back by the force of the wind, revealing a forest of curly green hair. The young man cursed softly, but sighed with something like resignation as he raised his head. Shouta stiffened as he gazed upon a young face smattered with freckles, his overlong curls shrouding his eyes. 

     Eyes that were far too cold and lifeless for a fifteen year old child.

     "Midoriya Izuku," Eraserhead breathed. He shouldn't have been surprised. He wasn't, really, but it still felt like a punch to the gut, having his suspicions confirmed. 

     Midoriya quirked his head towards the pro hero, not even a hint of recognition passing through his eyes. "Haven’t you heard, Eraserhead?" he asked softly, flatly. "Midoriya Izuku died three years ago. My name is Deku."

     Shouta opened his mouth to respond--with what he wasn't certain--but in that exact moment, there was a heavy thud! and Nomu landed hard some four meters away, cracking the pavement with the force of its landing. All Might landed a second later, snarling in rage, his dress shirt already bloody down one side as he launched himself back into the fight.

     "JUST DESTROY HIM ALREADY, NOMU!! DAMMIT, YOU HAVE SHOCK ABSORPTION AND SUPER REGENERATION; THIS IS WHAT YOU WERE CREATED FOR!!" Shigaraki screeched, practically dancing on the spot like a three year old throwing a temper tantrum. 

     Midoriya, or rather Deku, grimaced slightly at the noise, rubbing a finger in his ear. "Just leave him to do his job, Tenko. Or do it yourself if you think you can do better. But remember that Nomu was designed to take All Might at one hundred percent. Now that he's weakening, it shouldn't take long."

     "SHUT UP DEKU YOU BASTARD!!"

     Shock absorption and super regeneration? A creature created to destroy All Might? Weakening? Shouta's heart raced as he glanced from Deku to Shigaraki to Nomu and back again. What the hell did all this mean? Did Deku somehow know about All Might's time limit? It didn't matter; whether or not he did, Shouta knew about it. He knew that All Might didn't have long before he reverted back to his weakened form. He had to help him, before it was too late. Using his capture scarf as a launching mechanism, he threw himself towards the Nomu-

     Only to find Deku in midair in front of him, eyes suddenly blazing a radioactive shade of green, a cold smile touching his mouth. "I'm sorry, Eraserhead," he murmured. "But I can't let you interfere."

     The boy's kick--to say nothing of his jump--was far more powerful than any functionally quirkless individual should be capable of, strong enough to send him flying back to the ground, utterly winded and desperately gasping for air before he was forced to roll quickly aside, dodging Shigaraki's hand. Deku landed lightly on the ground nearby, his eyes still blazing as he stepped between Eraserhead and his partner in crime. "Tenko, keep an eye on Nomu, just in case. I'll deal with Eraserhead."

     "Like hell am I going to leave you to have all the fun, Deku," the hand-covered villain snarled back. 

     "Okay then, I suppose that means I get the pleasure of destroying the Symbol of Peace should Nomu fail," Deku shrugged, deadpan.

     Shigaraki bristled in rage. "In your dreams, you bastard!!" he screeched, rushing towards the fight between All Might and his monster, where both were trading a series of blows fast enough to break the sound barrier. Deku clicked his tongue almost pityingly, then turned back to Shouta, slipping easily into a fighting stance as he watched the pro push himself upright. 

     "Well then. Ready to get serious, Eraserhead?"

     “Don’t patronize me,” Shouta growled.

     Fighting with Deku was like trying to fight anywhere from two to four villains at once. He was fast, strong, and insanely versatile, fluidly combining fighting techniques from multiple different martial arts styles concurrently, not unlike his polyglot writing style. To make matters more interesting, he somehow had this way of slipping out of his capture weapon's grasp just as it was about to nab him--Shouta swore that once or twice he even felt the snap of the scarf seizing hold of his arm or waist only for Deku to drop smoothly out of its grip, aiming a low, sweeping kick at his legs or instantly springing acrobatically backwards and waiting for the pro to make his next move. Not to mention that his analytical skills obviously extended beyond simple quirk analysis--Eraserhead actually grit his teeth in frustration when he realized that the longer they fought, the more he noticed some of his own fighting techniques being woven into Deku's movements.

     And speaking of analyzing quirks, Shouta, for the life of him, couldn't figure out what in the world this kid's quirk was! He clearly had one--the flashes of green light in his eyes made that obvious--but he couldn't seem to nail down any singular effect. Sometimes, it seemed to give him a strength boost, sometimes speed, and at other times he would just disappear and he was left wondering if the kid had an invisibility quirk all over again. Then there were his frustrating evasive skills and most concerning of all there was one instance where Eraserhead fixed the boy with his quirk-erasing stare and the green light in his eyes didn't fade. 

     Of course, after his initial flash of panic, he was able to cancel the boy's quirk after all, so maybe it was just a delayed reaction caused by the overuse of his quirk. But the flicker of contentment in his eyes--the first emotion he’d seen from the boy throughout the battle--warned him otherwise.

     "What the hell are you trying to accomplish here, Midoriya?" Shouta hissed in an instant before they engaged once again, sucking in as much air as he could in the brief interim. 

     "It's Deku, remember? And I'm going to change the world."

     "By attacking a Goddamn school?! These are kids for God's sake!"

     Something sour flickered across the boy's face before Shouta was forced to dodge a particularly vicious kick towards his eyes. He managed to avoid a concussion, but the boy's foot still managed to catch his goggles, the sheer force of the blow knocking them off his face and sending him reeling.

     "So was I, Eraserhead," came the cold response before his expression suddenly cleared. "That being said, I had no intention of harming your students. Honestly I'd been hoping that we could be friends."

     Shouta's blood ran cold as he tried to activate his quirk. He was down to five second bursts, now. "What do you mean by that?" he hissed, his voice low even as he lashed out once again.

     "Come now, you can't think that I'm the only teen disillusioned by hero society as it now stands," Deku smirked as he miraculously dodged Shouta's scarf again, his green eyes flashing briefly as Eraserhead's quirk faltered, his dead smile becoming somehow coy. "There's a quirkless student in 1-B now. Do you think he's had an easy time of it? Not to mention your own students. You should've seen the fear in Shinsou's eyes when he told me his quirk. The surprise in Shouji's when Sero called his strength amazing. Not to mention the pain behind Mina's smile, and don't even get me started on Todoroki Shouto."

     "Todoroki?" Shouta frowned, dodging another strike. Shinsou he could understand as being at risk for recruitment, certainly. Even Shouji and maybe Ashido he could understand, considering their mutations. Tsukino from 1-B he could definitely understand. But Todoroki? A legacy hero student with a powerful combative quirk?

     For just a moment, Midoriya seemed surprised. Then a sharp, bitter bark of laughter escaped his mouth. "You mean you seriously haven't noticed yet? You've never even considered how strange it is that he has a burn scar on the side of his body that's supposedly flame resistant?"

     Eraserhead actually stumbled as the implications of Deku's words hit him like a tidal wave. For a burn scar to appear as he had suggested, then the flames used to hurt him would have to be hot, hotter than any normal flame, and considering who Todoroki's father was-

     A roar of "PLUUUS UUUULTRAAAAA!" snapped Shouta out of his reverie, and he glanced up just in time to see the black figure of Nomu flying through the roof of the USJ, evidently thrown by the Symbol of Peace himself. He and Deku each glanced towards the man, standing by the edge of the plaza and breathing heavily as he turned to face a stunned and subtly shaking Shigaraki, his iconic smile still fixed in place. 

     "Surrender, villains!" he called. "We all want to get this over with quickly!" There was steam pouring off of his body, visible even through the dust and smoke settling around him. Shouta's exhausted eyes narrowed, relying on his sheet of dark hair to conceal them now that his goggles were gone. He was going to change back any second now. "What's wrong? Not attacking? I'm right here, so come and get me if you dare!" 

     "Deku," Shigaraki hissed, scratching at his neck again in obvious agitation, "you lied to me! He's just as strong as he's always been, you bastard!"

     Shouta's heart leaped into his throat as he shot the green-haired boy a glance. If he called All Might's bluff then they were done for. But strangely, the boy didn't say a word, though his eyes did grow narrow and calculating.

     "What, are you scared?" All Might called again. 

     "Not at all," Deku said finally, taking a half-step forward, a cold smile touching his lips. "You simply taught me when to cut my losses." 

     All Might glanced towards the boy, then he suddenly froze, his eyes visibly widening even from this distance. "Y-You," he whispered, and Eraserhead frowned at the implied familiarity underneath the shock. 

     "It's been a long time, All Might," Deku inclined his head in greeting, almost mockingly. "It seems that you haven't regressed as much as I calculated you would by now. Although, I suppose it's nice to confirm that you haven't chosen your successor yet." Shouta didn't miss the way that All Might flinched at that, but he couldn't be bothered to wonder why at the moment. "But anyway, I believe we've all stalled long enough, so our reunion will have to wait."

     As if on cue, Kurogiri appeared next to Deku, stepping out of his smoky portal. "Most of our allies have been reclaimed," he announced smoothly. "They await us back at the base. There were some that I was unable to collect, but the other pro heroes are nearly here. I believe it would be unwise to stay any longer."

     "Thank you, Kurogiri-san," Deku acknowledged with a slight nod. "Tenko. We're leaving."

     The blue-haired villain's hands balled into fists at that, audibly grinding his teeth. "Not yet," he hissed. "Not until I've killed the Symbol of Peace!" With no further warning, the villain charged directly at All Might. 

     Shouta swore softly, his capture weapon lashing out to try to seize the man and haul him back, but to do so he had to sling it past Deku, whose hand snapped out and grabbed the scarf, twisting and using it to slam Shouta into the ground with enough force to crack one of his ribs and bang his head against a piece of stone torn from the pavement. He gasped, the shock keeping him from moving, so that all he could do was blink stars from his eyes and stare in horror as Shigaraki rushed a weakened and nearly helpless All Might with one hand outstretched, fully prepared to disintegrate the number one hero into dust in an instant.

      Boom!! 

     "Haaah!!"

     Shouta's heart actually leapt into his throat as he saw a blur of pink and a stream of smoke falling towards the pair out of the corner of his eye and realized that Uraraka had just leapt between All Might and a murderer!! He tried to force himself upright once more, gasping through the pain in his side, desperate to save his student- 

     -only to find that she didn't need saving. Somehow, Uraraka Ochaco had managed to grab her assailant by the wrist and the back of the neck, pull him off-balance, and slam him into the floor, pinning him to the ground with her knee in his back. Shouta caught his breath, Kurogiri blinked, and Deku allowed himself a low whistle, a flicker of something between amusement and admiration passing through his eyes. 

     "Gunhead knife defense techniques, huh?" he mused. "Clever. She must have realized that Tenko's quirk only emits from his hands. But unfortunately…"

     Shouta's heart seemed to stop again as he realized what was about to happen a second before it did. This time, Deku didn't stop him as his scarf flicked out, but between the pain of his broken rib(s?) and ruined elbow, not to mention the fact that he likely had a concussion after that last hit, he missed his target as the smoky portal appeared beneath Shigaraki.

     "All Might!" Shouta cried with the last of the air in his lungs, and fortunately his fellow pro hero understood. Even as the villain sank into the shadows, shrieking and howling in protest, All Might seized Uraraka around the waist and hauled her off of him seconds before the portal closed, sending him off who-knows-where. The teacher felt relief pour through his chest. The villain had (reluctantly) escaped, but at least Uraraka was safe now. Deku in the meantime had distanced himself from Shouta, that strange, dead smile hovering around his mouth as another portal appeared behind him. 

     "Lovely meeting you, Eraserhead. I look forward to the next time." He turned away after that, taking a step towards the portal. Then suddenly, he stiffened, his head snapping up. 

      Deku leaped backwards just as an explosion struck the ground between him and the portal. Shouta gasped as he recognized the blond figure that had appeared, interposing himself between the green-haired boy and his ally. 

     "Like hell am I gonna let them take you away again," Bakugou growled softly, glowering at the mass of purple smoke. "I dunno what they've been doing to control you Izuku, but you don't have to go back. We can help you."

     Shouta's eyes widened from where he lay, still struggling to regain his breath. Bakugou… Bakugou honestly thought that Midoriya was being forced into this? His eyes flicked towards the shorter boy's, and he was more than a little startled by what he saw.

     Pain. Anguish, even. Raw and sharp and-

     And then Deku blinked and it was gone, leaving Shouta wondering if it was just a hallucination brought on by his concussion. The boy chuckled, shaking his head pityingly, though the sound seemed awfully hollow, even dead. It only seemed to confirm his suspicion that he'd imagined that poignant flash of emotion.

     "You honestly think that you're going to save me, Kacchan," Deku sighed, something hard and bitter creating an edge in his voice. 

     Bakugou blinked, surprise registering across his face. Then confusion, suspicion, and slowly a dawning horror. "No," he croaked. "Izuku, you can't seriously… But you… you always wanted to be a hero! That was your dream; it's what you wanted more than anything!"

     "Hm," Deku considered, his voice even. "I wanted to save people. I wanted to make the world a better place. But I learned that it was impossible for someone like me to save people as a hero. So I decided to make a difference as a villain instead. As a deku."

     Bakugou actually flinched. "No…" he whispered. "No… Izuku…"

     "Goodbye, Kacchan," Deku murmured as another portal appeared behind him and he took his first step into it. "Don't try to follow me. I'm already past saving."

     The warpgate closed, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Shouta finally managed to drag in his first full breath since the villain had slammed him into the ground, although he instantly regretted it, considering that the movement caused his cracked ribs to shriek in protest. After taking a moment to blink the spots from his eyes, he groggily pushed himself upright, doing his best not to put any more undue stress on his ribs. "B-Bakugou?" he managed to pant, chest heaving with each shallow breath. His student didn't respond, just stood there shaking, his head bowed, his fists clenched at his sides. From his angle, Shouta could see that his eyes were wide open still, horror warring with guilt and sheer absolute rage as his breaths came faster and faster. 

     All at once, his student threw his head back, a scream that didn't even sound human tearing itself from his throat as a massive explosion, bigger than any Shouta had seen him create before, burst from his palms, sending a wave of heat blasting outward before he fell to his knees, slamming his fists into the ground--although whether the action was taken due to rage or grief or sheer frustration Shouta couldn't be certain. 

     Either way, he could hear the muffled sob wrench itself from his student's throat, in spite of his best efforts to contain it. Cringing against the pain, Shouta dragged himself forward, kneeling at the blonde's side and laying a weary hand against his shoulder. Bakugou simply lay there, unresponsive, trembling, while bitter tears leaked from his scrunched-closed eyes and heaving gasps caught in his chest, oblivious to the world around him. 

     Shouta was no good at this side of hero work. This was Hizashi's area, this whole 'comforting' thing. But Hizashi wasn't here, and anyway it was his student struggling, so he'd give it his best shot. "Bakugou-"

     "He's a villain," the blonde whispered, his voice raw, broken.

     Shouta blinked. Okay, he hadn't exactly expected him to bring it up himself…

     "Izuku's a Goddamn villain," he hissed, another sob cutting into his tone. 

     "Bakugou, that's not your fault," the teacher tried again.

     “Don’t try to talk about shit that you don’t understand,” Bakugou spat back, almost choking on his tears. “This is my fault. I'm the one who turned Izuku into Deku.”

Outtake:

     Mitsuki put the car into park and stretched her hands over her head until her back popped. “Well, here we are,” she smiled, the expression considerably softer than her usual toothy grin. 

     Inko took a slow, shaky breath in, one of her hands clenched in a fist over her heart, the other tightening around the bouquet of flowers in her lap. 

     Hydrangea, peony, and a few white carnations.

     Mitsuki glared at the bouquet, worried.

     “I know what my brat told you the other day, but Inko… I don’t want you gettin’ your hopes up too soon,” the blonde frowned, trying to keep her tone gentle.

     Inko managed a weak smile. “I know,” she nodded, unbuckling, “but until we know for certain, I still want to believe that he could be out there.”

     “Well, I won’t try to stop you,” the ash blonde shrugged, beginning to push her own door open. “Anyway, time’s a-wastin’, and I’d like to get home before Katsuki finishes school.”

     “Mitsuki?”

     “Yeah, girl?”

     “Thank you. For coming with me.”

     Mitsuki smirked, although there was a touch of sadness in it. “Inko, you’ve been dealing with my emotional constipation since grade school. This is the least I can do.”

     The green-haired woman almost laughed at that, but the smile that stayed on her face was still warbly and a little anxious as she climbed out of the passenger seat. 

     The trek up the grassy hill was characterized by a friendly, but tense silence. That tension only seemed to increase as time went on and they grew steadily closer to their destination. “You sure you wanna do this so soon?” Mitsuki frowned, noticing how Inko’s breath grew steadily faster and more shallow as well.

     “Yes,” Inko nodded, a look of determination that reminded the ash blonde where her son got it from crossing through her eyes. “I can’t be there for him, but if there’s any way that he can see me, I want him to know that I’m thinking of him.”

     Mitsuki managed to smile at that. She didn’t really get it but hell, if doing this gave Inko a bit of comfort over her lost son, then she would do what she could to help her. 

     They arrived at the gravesite a few minutes later, both of them a little warm for the trip, and Inko was definitely fighting back tears as they entered the little cemetery, but she still pressed forward with the same degree of determination as before. 

     Only to pause, a flash of confusion crossing her face. 

     “What? What’s wrong?” Mitsuki asked, stepping around another headstone so that she could see little Izuku’s.

     There was a bouquet of flowers lying at the base of the headstone, all short stems with clusters of purple, six-petaled flowers on one end, wrapped in white floral paper. 

     Purple hyacinths.

     “Huh,” the woman frowned, moving closer, Inko close behind her. Neither of them had visited in a week or two, but these flowers were pretty fresh. Probably left today. Maybe even only a few hours ago. Strange, since as far as Mitsuki knew, only their families ever visited Izuku’s grave. “Who would’ve-?”

     Just then, Mitsuki’s phone started ringing, playing a rather language-heavy rap song that caused Inko to wince slightly. Mitsuki frowned. That was Katsuki’s ringtone. Why would he call while still in school? 

     “Yeah, what is it, brat?” she growled, but without any heat. If he was calling during school, then the situation was probably pretty serious. Had he had another panic attack?

      “Ah, Baku-kasan?”

     “Eijirou? Ah hell… What’s going on? Did that damn brat have another breakdown? Ah shit, please don’t tell me he attacked someone…”

      “Well, uh, yes and no,” Eijirou’s voice made it pretty obvious that the kid was cringing. 

       “Ugh, just spit it out, kid.”

      “Um… Well, our class just got attacked by a bunch of villains, and Bakugou’s not taking it too well.”

     “Say what?!?!”

Chapter Text

     He'd felt good that morning. Surprisingly good, all things considered. Sure, his old wound had throbbed a little bit more than usual, but it was nothing abnormal. Honestly, he had been downright bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to give the day his all, or at least as much as he had left to give. It was part of the reason he'd felt confident enough even to attempt all those rescues earlier in the day.

     So how did things go to hell so quickly? How did villains figure out when to attack the USJ? How did a child, one that he’d thought was dead (one that he should have protected) become the leader of said villains? And how did the aforementioned child know that All Might was looking for a successor?!  

     It made him wonder what else the boy might know.

     It made him wonder how quickly he needed to make a decision.

     Toshinori groaned softly as he lifted his head, giving Uraraka-shoujo a once-over. His brave young student appeared unharmed, just slightly shaky as she opened her eyes and began to push herself upright. The pro hero sighed quietly in relief, slumping back against the ground, distantly noting with some pride how she immediately snapped her head towards Bakugou-shounen and Aizawa, more concerned for their welfare than her own injuries. It was just one more sign that Uraraka-shoujo would be a fantastic rescue hero some day. Or even a crime-fighting hero, if those earlier moves were anything to go by. Where had she learned that anyway?

     "Bakugou-kun," she murmured, her voice soft and laced with worry, pulling him from his reverie. "I hope he’s okay."

     “Is Bakugou-shounen injured?” All Might frowned immediately, his heart racing slightly with his concern.

     “Mm-mm. At least not physically. But I know that he was desperate to get here. Something about needing to save his friend. I didn’t want to pry, but-”

     A scream and an explosion cut her off. Toshinori jumped, lurching upright in surprise and coughing up a spurt of blood in the process, searching desperately for the enemy--only to see Bakugou-shounen slumped to the ground, sobbing desperately, Aizawa slowly making his way to the boy’s side. It was… shocking, to say the least.

     "Ohmygosh, are you- A-All Might-sensei?!" Uraraka-shoujo screeched. Toshinori blinked in confusion, meeting brown eyes wide with shock and worry and more than a little disbelief. The pro hero felt a flicker of misgiving at that, glancing down to try to understand why-

     Oh. Shit.

     "Ah, right, I suppose I do look… different," Toshinori groaned, wiping the blood from his chin. "I know it's rather strange and I promise I'll explain later, but now isn't the time. In the meantime, I'd rather you didn't go telling your classmates about this."

     "I… I suppose I understand," Uraraka-shoujo agreed hesitantly, fidgeting, her eyes still very wide, but she seemed to have mostly regained the bulk of her composure. "Are… Are you okay, All Might-sensei? Are you hurt?"

     "Yagi-san, please," Toshinori sighed automatically, "at least in this form. No, I'm not too terribly-"

     Another violent series of coughs, accompanied by another glob of blood and phlegm, cut him off, doing little to help his case. Uraraka-shoujo yelped in alarm, scrambling to find a tissue or handkerchief or something, but Toshinori wearily waved her concern away. "It's fine, it's fine," he mumbled, wiping his mouth on his already-ruined shirt. "Happens all the time; it's perfectly normal."

     "Um, I'm pretty sure coughing up blood isn't normal All M- er, Yagi-san," Uraraka-shoujo squeaked back.

     "Bakugou! Uraraka! Aizawa-sensei! All Might-sensei! You all alright?!"

     Toshinori glanced up as Kirishima-shounen hurried towards them, worry etched in his face. He allowed himself a smile. Kirishima-shounen is such a good kid, coming to check on them, he thought. Then, just as quickly, Crap, he's gonna see me without my muscle form!

     Before he could panic too much, Uraraka-shoujo shot him a glance, quickly rose to her feet, and ran to intercept the redhead, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards Bakugou-shounen, mumbling something that Toshinori couldn't hear, but the intent was clear by her classmate's reaction: distracting the boy and getting help for his other student. Kirishima-shonen's eyes blew wide, something like horror flashing across his expression, but then his face set and he nodded in determination, kneeling in front of his friend and placing a hand on his shoulder. 

     "Bakugou? Dude, you okay?" he murmured gently, but still loudly enough for Toshinori to hear (the boy wasn't really the most subtle of individuals, not that he had any room to talk). The blonde didn't answer though, just remained staring vaguely into space, ignorant of the tears spilling down his cheeks. Perhaps he was dissociating? The redhead looked concerned but didn't press him.

     "Kirishima, report," Aizawa grunted, looking dazed, but determined. "What happened up top?"

     "Oh, right," Kirishima straightened up, turning his attention to his teacher. Toshinori decided to take advantage of the distraction to slip off of the plaza itself, instead sitting down beneath the lip and simply listening as his student continued. He didn't fail to notice that Uraraka-shoujo, when she saw him moving, placed herself so that she would block his escape from Kirishima-shounen's view. "The warp guy appeared before we could escape the USJ. Thirteen tried to use Black Hole on 'im, but he opened a warpgate to redirect the attack and destroy their armor, then he used his quirk again to scatter most of us around the building. But after that the guy just vanished. Mentioned something about needing to grab a guy named Deku before things got out of hand? Anyway, Satou and I worked together to pry open the doors and Iida ran to the campus to get help."

     "So… Thirteen is…?"

     "Recovery Girl said they'll be fine."

     "Good. So… the other teachers…?"

     "Uh, they arrived just a minute ago. They're searching for all the other students now. Most of ‘em are still scattered around the building, but Kouda and Shinsou made it back on their own--oh, but Shinsou hurt his leg somehow--and Snipe managed to spot Jirou, Yaoyorozu, and Kaminari. They look okay, but I think Kaminari kind of fried his own brain again…"

     "Good. Good… Uraraka?"

     "Bakugou-kun and I were both warped to those ruins, where we were attacked by a group of villains. Bakugou’s quirk caused some debris to destabilize, but he got better at controlling his output over time. The villains were mostly low-level thugs, so it wasn't too hard to take them down even with the unstable footing. After that, we decided to come to the plaza to see if we could help. We weren't planning on engaging, but then that hands guy charged in and we decided that we had to get involved. I made myself float and Bakugou-kun launched me and… yeah."

     "I see. In that case-" Toshinori heard a grunt and a gasp and quickly peeked up over the edge of the platform. He quickly saw that Aizawa had started to stand, but suddenly wobbled, staggering. Kirishima-shonen had quickly moved to support him, as did Uraraka-shoujo, who tucked herself under his arm and pressed her hand against his back, a faint pink glow shining from her fingertips, seemingly draining the color from her cheeks.

     "You know what, maybe we should get you to Recovery Girl too, sensei," the redhead frowned. "You don't look like you're in great shape to be honest; you need to rest."

     "Can't," Aizawa mumbled. Whatever lucidity he'd managed to maintain when questioning the pair of them seemed largely to have abandoned him now. "Not until my students are safe."

     Okay… That was actually kind of sweet. And judging by the flustered smile on Uraraka-shoujo's face and the tears gathering in Kirishima-shounen's eyes, they thought as much, too. "So manly," the latter mumbled. "Come on sensei, let's get you up top so you can check on everyone yourself. Hey, Uraraka, you okay?"

     "Yeah, I didn't really get hurt, just a bit nauseous from my quirk." She shot a quick look towards Toshinori, who nodded slightly, prompting her onward. "I'll take sensei to Recovery Girl. You help Bakugou-kun, okay?"

     Kirishima-shounen nodded in acknowledgement, helping her to settle their teacher against her back before she started climbing the stairs towards the USJ entrance. Then he knelt by Bakugou-shounen once more, gently cajoling him to his feet and helping him stumble away in a daze. 

     Toshinori slumped back against the retaining wall, allowing his eyes to close. He could understand how the boy felt. It had taken him a while to recognize the young man as the quiet blond boy from Midoriya-shounen’s funeral, but just then he could see it, just as he had in the aftermath of the battle training. It made him wonder if Bakugou-shounen felt the same way he did. If he blamed himself, too.

     Perhaps he should talk to him.

     Not right now, though.

     "All Might? Are you here?"

     Toshinori wearily raised a hand as he recognized Ishiyama-kun's voice. He could hear heavy footsteps, and a moment later his fellow teacher's boxy face appeared in front of him. "Are you alright, All Might?" he frowned, glancing him over.

     "Yeah, for the most part. That… thing… managed to find my old wound. Dug into it pretty hard. But it's not as bad as it looks."

     "You're covered in blood," Ishiyama-kun deadpanned. 

     "Well don't sugarcoat it," Toshinori grumbled. "I had to act recklessly or I'd be dead right now."

     "Things were that serious?"

     "Yeah. Those villains were powerful. Their leader couldn't have been older than our first years, but he was able to hold his own against Aizawa in a one-on-one fight. Sure, he was injured and exhausted at the time, but still…" But still, a quirkless kid managed to throw Aizawa like it was nothing.

     "That's no small feat," Cementoss agreed, his eyes growing wide as he nodded ponderously, "but we can investigate the matter later. Come now. The students are being treated by the entrance. Let's sneak you to Recovery Girl's office, and she'll get you healed up in no time.

     The blonde nodded wearily, internally wincing as he imagined the scolding the woman would give him. “I think I shortened my time limit again in that fight,” Toshinori mumbled, grimacing against the sharp pain in his side as Ishiyama pulled him to his feet and led him towards one of the emergency exits past the squall zone. He was fairly used to the pain by now, though. Six years of constant throbbing did that to a person. 

     "It's unfortunate, but it can't be helped. Either way, your actions probably saved the lives of those students today," Ishiyama-kun smiled encouragingly.

     Toshinori nodded absently, but he didn't really believe it. His thoughts were plagued by the memories of a day on a high rooftop, faced by a child with curly green hair and hopeful, brilliant green eyes after asking him one, piercing question, pleading and fretting and longing for a single, magical word--and a young man with narrow cheeks, his eyes a dull, flat jade, his smile mocking and lifeless, his words just as piercing as before, but for an entirely different reason. 

     You taught me when to cut my losses.

     His actions were what put everyone in danger. If it weren't for him, that boy may have become a great hero, instead of a villain.

.oOo.

     "So you've gone and done it again, All Might!" a creaky old voice groused. "You can't keep injuring yourself like this!"

     "It's not like I asked that thing to attack me," Toshinori sighed, sitting up with yet another grimace as Recovery Girl entered the room. The old doctor's eyes narrowed on him; he could practically see the steam coming from her ears.

     "That's not the point! The point is that you wore yourself to the bone this morning when you had a class to teach! I don't care if you're the Symbol of Peace; continue injuring yourself out of sheer stupidity, and I won't continue to heal you, understand?!"

     "Yes ma'am," the blonde winced, appropriately chastened. Recovery Girl huffed, then set about her work, pulling off Toshinori's shirt and beginning to clean his reopened wound.

     "How are you feeling, All Might?" a soft voice asked, and Toshinori glanced up as the school principal entered the room, his usually bright smile soft and worried and his beady black eyes lacking their usual calm, calculating gleam. 

     "I'll live," the pro hero shrugged.

     "I'd hope so. I don't want to be the one explaining to Gran what happened to you."

     "What the hell?! What are you doing here, Tsukauchi?" Toshinori gaped, spitting blood as another figure stepped in behind his boss.

     "I've been assigned to investigate the attack of course," his old friend shrugged, smiling faintly as he stepped around an empty bed to sit down next to him. "This so-called League of Villains, according to the students. Apparently the villain with a warping quirk announced them as such, but we don't know much else."

     "Which brings us to part of the reason why we're here," Nezu-sensei piped up again. "We hoped that you could give us your statement on what happened during the fighting in the USJ. Unfortunately the other teachers and I arrived too late to see much more than a vanishing portal, and Aizawa-kun wasn't exactly up to the task of giving his story when Uraraka-kun brought him up."

     "Sure," Toshinori nodded, "but first, are the students, Thirteen, and Aizawa okay?"

     "For the most part, yes. Thirteen-kun has been sent to the hospital with some severe lacerations on their back, but the doctors have reassured us that they'll pull through. Aizawa-kun wasn't terribly injured, but his stamina was too drained for Shuzenji-kun to use her quirk, so he was sent to the hospital as well. Among the students, no one had life-threatening injuries, but three were sent to the hospital regardless. The rest were exhausted enough that we opted to send them home rather than attempt to continue classes." 

     "On that note, it would seem that the enemy had some knowledge of their quirks, since all of the students caught up in the warpgate were sent to areas that they weren't entirely suited to handle," Tsukauchi commented, frowning worriedly.

     "What do you mean?"

     “Well to start, Asui-kun, Aoyama-kun, and Tokoyami-kun were all sent to the conflagration zone. They are struggling with mild burns and varying degrees of heat exhaustion--Asui-kun being the worst off--but they were protected from worse injury by Tokoyami-kun, whose quirk, though weakened by the flames, was able to hold the villains also sent there at bay. 

     “Hagakure-kun is fighting hypothermia and frostbite from the squall zone due to the nature of her costume. Todoroki-kun was sent there as well and he also has some symptoms due to overuse of the ice aspect of his quirk. However, since he has some natural measure of resistance to cold temperatures, she’s by far the worse off of the two of them. 

     “Ojirou-kun was sent to the landslide zone on his own. He did very well against the villains he encountered despite the fact that he had no cover, but still took quite a beating when they eventually cornered him--Shuzenji-kun said that he was the worst injured of the students. He has a few broken bones, deep bruises, a concussion, and a significant gash or two, but nothing life-threatening.

     “Kaminari-kun is suffering from quirk overuse, but he was able to successfully protect Jirou-kun and Yaoyorozu-kun from serious injury at the mountain rescue site, although they all had cuts and bruises. 

     “Kouda-kun is also relatively unscathed, largely thanks to the efforts of Shinsou-kun. The two of them were sent to the shipwreck zone, presumably because the water would limit the projection of their voices, and thus the effectiveness of their quirks. However, Shinsou-kun still managed to take control of a number of the villains and set them against each other with his quirk while he and Kouda-kun swam for shore. However, Shinsou-kun was bitten by a man with a quirk that gave him shark-like abilities and was nearly dragged into deeper water. Fortunately, Kouda-kun managed to kick the man in the gills before that could happen--he signed something about a dolphin suggesting that trick once. 

     “Bakugou-kun and Uraraka-kun were sent to the earthquake zone, where their quirks were limited by the instability of the ruined buildings, however their combat skills made up for those limitations. Of the students warped away, they suffered the least amount of injury. The rest remained by the entrance. 

     “As much as I despise their actions, I must commend the villains for the effectiveness of their strategy. All in all, we were very lucky that we didn't suffer any casualties."

     Toshinori nodded as he processed this information, feeling simultaneously relieved and more tense than ever. "They likely got their information through the spy that's been sneaking onto campus," he muttered.

     "You're referring to the battle training and quirk assessment incidents?" Nezu prompted, his smile turning grim.

     "Sorry, just a moment," Tsukauchi interrupted, fishing a recording device out of his pocket. He pressed play, then, glancing between them, asked, "Now what was that about a spy?" 

     "During a battle training for this same class earlier in the week, one of our students noticed an intruder during the final exercise. Eyewitness reports match with the description of another individual seen observing the quirk assessment test that Aizawa-kun holds on the first day of class every year."

     "If Bakugou-shounen, Shinsou-shounen, and Jirou-shoujo's descriptions of the intruder are accurate, then I saw him during the fighting as well. In fact, he appeared to be their leader. And sensei… I had my suspicions before, but I'm now certain that the intruder was in fact Midoriya Izuku."

     Nezu's eyes narrowed. “I wondered if that might be the case following Uraraka-kun's comments at the USJ, but I will admit that this is an… interesting development.”

     "Hang on. Midoriya Izuku? You mean the suicide case from three years ago?"

     "Yes. You're familiar with it?"

     "Yeah," Tsukauchi frowned, looking slightly disturbed. "I was one of the detectives assigned to the case. How did you know of it, All Might?"

     "I… I met the boy," All Might admitted softly, cringing at the memory. "I… said something that I maybe shouldn't have. Shortly after that, I found out that he committed suicide."

     Tsukauchi looked startled. Nezu, of course, was unsurprised--he thrived on information. "How did the two of you meet? And what was it that you said?" 

     "I happened to rescue him from a villain attack. He chased me down after the fact right as my time was running out to ask if it was possible for a quirkless person to become a hero. I said no. Worse, I said that he should try to keep his dreams attainable," Toshinori recounted bitterly, his hands clenching around the thin blanket of the bed.

     "You said that to an impressionable child?" Recovery Girl gaped at him, fury and sorrow burning in her eyes. "How could you be so cruel?!"

     "I didn't mean to destroy him the way I did, but… I didn't want a defenseless child running into danger, either. At the time, I felt like I was saying what I had to," Toshinori defended himself, but the words felt hollow, even to him. 

     "Is this why you started your whole advocacy campaign? To assuage your guilty conscience over causing the death of a child?!"

     "Not exactly, but… I'd be lying if said that wasn't part of it," the pro hero admitted. "You know I was quirkless myself before obtaining One for All, right?"

     "Yes, that's part of the reason I'm so shocked you would say such a thing!"

     "I… I just wanted him to understand the risk working as a hero carries. The danger. When he 'died', I felt like I was one the one who killed him. Even so, I was shocked that it had happened at all. That boy… he'd been so bright. So warm. I knew he'd been devastated by what I said, but I never thought it would make him suicidal, and logically I knew that such thoughts don't just come all at once; they usually take time to take root. So I started doing research, looking into the conditions of quirkless kids nowadays versus when I was a child, and the things I learned were horrible. 

     "Medically quirkless individuals make up about twenty percent of the population, but only about seven percent are functionally quirkless, without even a vestigial mutation. And that's just the world at large. Ninety-two percent of those twenty percent--to say nothing of the specifically functionally quirkless seven percent--are already older than twenty-five. That means Midoriya Izuku was one of the approximately eight percent of medically quirkless individuals or one of one point six percent of functionally quirkless individuals worldwide under the age of twenty-five. By contrast, I would have been one of about twenty-five percent of medically quirkless kids and fifteen percent functionally quirkless when I was his age, and there wasn't nearly as much of a social stigma then. Today, quirkless kids--in particular functionally quirkless kids like Midoriya--get told to commit suicide an average of two point seven times a month in school, and about seventy-six percent of them try it at least once in their lifetimes. In fact, only about fifty-four percent reach adulthood--that’s part of why most quirkless people are older--and those that do are rarely able to find opportunities for higher education and employment.

     "What I said to him that day was inexcusable; I'm not denying that. But I put that campaign together in the hopes of preventing it from happening again, by my hand or anyone else's." As afraid of the woman as he was, Toshinori forced himself to look Recovery Girl in the eye as he murmured softly, "Believe me, if I could go back and change it, then I would."

     "The past is the past, I'm afraid," Nezu heaved a weary sigh as he laid a placating hand (paw?) on the doctor's arm. She grumbled, but otherwise didn't protest. "I'd thought that the circumstances of the boy's death seemed strange, but I will admit that this new development concerning Midoriya--that he is apparently a leader in this group of villains--goes far beyond my expectations."

     "Honestly, it seemed strange to me too, especially since we never found a body, but there wasn't much we could do after we found the suicide note in his bag."

     "Can you remember what it said?" Nezu prompted.

     "Not off the top of my head, but there's a copy in his complete case file. Although, I remember that it did strike me as odd somehow…"

     "Hm. Would it be possible for us to see it? Perhaps have it brought to a debriefing meeting tomorrow?" 

     "Sure. If Midoriya really is a part of this case, it may be an important piece of the puzzle."

     "Yes, I would agree. Now, All Might, you were explaining to us what precisely happened at the USJ?"

     "Right. I was heading to class late because of my-"

     "Idiotic, overly-reckless hero complex?" Recovery Girl suggested with the acidity of a bottle of vinegar as she proceeded to wrap his wound. Toshinori--and Tsukauchi, he noticed out of the corner of his eye--grimaced at that, but at least she wasn't quite as determined to label him as the devil incarnate.

     "Erm. Well, I met Iida-shounen along the way, and he informed me that the USJ was under attack, Thirteen had been injured, and Aizawa was defending everyone, but the students had been scattered through the facility. When I arrived, I found things much as he had described. However, almost as soon as I'd walked in, a monster with black skin and an exposed brain rushed me. It was all I could do to knock Satou-shounen out of the way before it crashed into me."

     "That fast, huh?"

     "The thing was insanely powerful," Toshinori nodded. "It hit my weak spot pretty hard, and it had some sort of regeneration quirk. But it also had shock absorption and likely super strength and/or super speed, at least according to the other villain present."

     "You're saying it had multiple quirks?" Tsukauchi frowned. "But… Shouldn't that be impossible? At least now that…" He hesitated, glancing down at his recording device and pressing the 'pause' button. Once they were in the clear, he nodded to them.

     "Now that All for One is gone?" Nezu finished quietly now that the danger of his words being caught on record had passed.

     "Actually," All Might whispered, "considering everything I've seen and heard today, I'm no longer entirely certain that All for One really is gone."

     Recovery Girl's hands flinched against All Might's side, Nezu's entire body stilled, and Tsukauchi's head snapped up from where he'd been writing on his notepad. "What makes you say that?" the principal asked cautiously. "It's not outside the realm of possibility that a single quirk with multiple side effects is responsible for the appearance of multiple quirks in the… monster, as you described it. Considering the quirks in question appear to be so different from one another, it does seem improbable, but not impossible. Take our young student Todoroki for example."

     "Nomu's apparent multiple quirks is a part of why I’m suspicious, but the primary reason is actually something that Midoriya Izuku said to me before he disappeared." 

     "And what was that?"

     Toshinori paused, frowning down at his scarred hands as Recovery Girl finished with his bandage, then stepped back so that she could frown up at him alongside Nezu. "He referenced my successor," All Might whispered, and he sensed all three of them stiffen. "Said something about how it was nice to confirm that I hadn't chosen one yet."

     Tsukauchi released a long, slow breath. "You're saying… you think he knows about One for All."

     "That's right," Toshinori nodded. "There are very few people in this world who know the secret. Aside from the three of you, just Sir Nighteye, Gran Torino… and All for One. Of those six, the only one I would suspect of telling anyone is the last."

     "If this child was somehow able to sneak on and off of campus though, is it possible that he overheard a conversation between one or another of you?"

     "Perhaps, but it's not exactly something we speak openly about. Besides, considering that we all know the secret already, it's not as though we would have been spelling it out for anyone to overhear," Nezu pointed out. 

     "That's true," Tsukauchi conceded, his brows furrowed with worry.

     "But if All for One really is behind all this, then how should we proceed?" Recovery Girl frowned.

     "I don't know," Toshinori admitted quietly.

     "Well, perhaps we should first investigate this Nomu creature," Nezu suggested calmly, although the furrow to his brow--muzzle?--would suggest that he was anything but. "If we can do that, perhaps we can confirm whether or not All for One truly is involved."

     "Agreed," Tsukauchi nodded. "I already have a team sweeping the surrounding area based on student descriptions of the creature."

     "Very good. Now All Might, is there anything more you would like to tell us about recent events?"

     Toshinori glanced towards his friend, who pressed 'play' on his recording device again and nodded. "Well, as you've apparently heard from the students, I battled the Nomu and eventually succeeded in throwing it out of the facility. After that, I had a chance to pay a little more attention to the ringleaders. One of them was observing my fight closely. He had blue hair and black clothes and for some reason appeared to wear hands all over his body as part of his costume, including one on his face, so I couldn't see it clearly. He was the one who ordered the Nomu to attack me, but he appeared to be at odds with the true leader, Midoriya Izuku."

     "How could you tell?"

     “And how could you tell that Midoriya was ultimately in charge?”

     "Mostly the way that they interacted. Judging by the way he gave orders, Midoriya was definitely the one in charge, yet Tenko--as Midoriya called him--spoke to him in a manner reminiscent of a spoiled child. Plus when Midoriya gave the order to withdraw, Tenko ignored him completely and charged me instead. I don't know exactly what his quirk was, but it was obvious that he intended to kill me with it. If it hadn't been for Uraraka-shoujo, I would most likely be dead."

     "What exactly did Uraraka-kun do?"

     "Jumped into the fight in the nick of time. Judging by the explosion beforehand, I'll bet Bakugou-shounen played a hand in it, too. Either way, she came out of nowhere, grabbed the villain and took him to the floor without batting an eye. It was impressive, honestly, even if it was pretty damn reckless."

     "This student sounds as bad as you," Tsukauchi muttered, not quite under his breath.

     "Intriguing," Nezu-sensei mused. "So the villains fled after that?"

     "Yeah. The warp villain created a portal and they just-"

     A knock at the door gave them all pause. After a moment, Recovery Girl hobbled over to the door, opening it partway after Tsukauchi closed the curtain around All Might's bed. "Oh! Hello there, sweetie. Did you need something?"

     "Um, is All Might-sensei here?" a familiar voice asked uncertainly. "I… I know that he was… um… injured in the fight and I… I just wanted to make sure that he's okay…"

     "That's very kind of you, dear. Not to worry, he'll-"

     "It's alright Recovery Girl," All Might called. "You can let her in. She knows." Tsukauchi quirked an eyebrow at him and Nezu sighed and smiled, but otherwise the two didn't react much. A moment later, Toshinori heard the door close once more and the privacy curtain was pulled aside to reveal a fidgeting Uraraka Ochaco.

     "Hello, Uraraka-kun." Nezu greeted mildly, smiling. The girl seemed slightly startled to see him there, and even more so to see Tsukauchi.

      "O-Oh! Hi, sensei!" she squeaked, clearly a little flustered. "U-Um, am I… interrupting something?"

     "We were actually just wrapping up," Tsukauchi smiled, pressing the 'stop' button on his recorder and tucking it back into his jacket. "I was just getting All Might's statement on the attack."

     "So… You know."

     "About All Might’s secret?" the detective clarified, smiling slightly. "Yes, I do."

     "Tsukauchi here is an old friend," Toshinori explained simply, smiling as her eyes widened slightly in understanding. "He's legit; I'd trust him with my life."

     "That's quite the introduction," Tsukauchi outright laughed now. "And speaking of, I believe I owe you a 'thank you,' Uraraka-kun."

     "E-Eh?!"

     "All Might here was just explaining to us how you saved his life," Nezu smiled gently, although amusement sparkled in his eyes as the girl immediately flushed red.

     "Wh-What?! N-No, you don't have to thank me for anything!" Uraraka-shoujo squawked, her arms flailing slightly as she floundered through her embarrassment. "I-I just did what anyone would do, you kn-know? A-And anyway, I couldn't have done it without Bakugou-kun."

     “Stop encouraging the girl, all of you,” Recovery Girl grumbled as she set about putting away her medical tools. “It was a reckless move. One touch from that man and she could have easily gotten herself killed!”

     “True,” Toshinori frowned, his hand drifting instinctively to his wounded side as he looked her in the eye. “I can’t condone that aspect of things, but the fact remains that I’d be dead if you hadn’t jumped in. Although I am curious--how did you know I needed help?”

     Uraraka-shoujo’s blush faded, her expression turning somber. “Honestly, most of it was because you stopped fighting. After you threw that… thing out of the USJ, you turned and just started talking. As Bakugou-kun put it, you’re strong enough and fast enough that you shouldn’t need to talk your way out of anything. But… there was also just this look in your eyes.”

     “A look?”

     “Mm. Like the whole world had just come crashing down.” Toshinori blinked at that, wondering what exactly she meant, but his student didn’t elaborate. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure what that creepy guy’s quirk was, just that when he charged you, he did it with his hand stretched out, so I assumed that that’s how he meant to attack. I know it was a gamble, but Bakugou-kun and I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.”

     “Impressive deductive skills,” Nezu smiled, “but in the future, avoid going in blind. We’re not quite sure what the villain’s quirk was either, but judging by Aizawa-kun’s injuries, I imagine it had something to do with disintegration.”

     Both Toshinori and his student paled at that pronouncement, and Recovery Girl tensed in her office chair. Tsukauchi looked grim, but not too terribly surprised. “O-Okay. Okay, I’ll remember that,” Uraraka-shoujo squeaked, looking a little shaky. “A-Anyway, um, I just… I wanted to ask you, All Mi--uh, Yagi-san… Are there any signs before you… shrink? Just in case I need to play distraction so you can slip away?” 

     Toshinori smiled slightly at the earnest light in her eyes. She really was going to be a wonderful hero one day. “Well, the biggest giveaway is that my body starts giving off steam, and sometimes I'll start coughing blood, like you saw in the USJ,” he sighed.

     “Okay. I'll keep that in mind,” Uraraka-shoujo nodded. “Um… Could I… Is it okay to ask… What… What happened? I mean, the Symbol of Peace doesn't just get hurt like this, right?”

     Toshinori glanced away, a familiar sense of fear roiling in his gut. It always felt that way when he had to tell someone the truth, but this time the stakes felt higher than ever before. All of the memories of the mistakes he'd made the last time seemed to press in upon him, of the way that he'd ignored a different bright, earnest, heartfelt child, focusing instead on his own pride and selfishness. And now here was another one, asking his story, watching him with cautious concern. 

     He took a deep breath.

     It was different this time. This time, he wasn't explaining out of pride or fear. This time, he was simply trying to settle the fears of his student. “It was about six years ago now,” he said quietly, gently laying a hand over the bandages to ward off the phantom pains. “I can't show you the scar, but it was bad. I lost my stomach and my left lung. I was able to continue doing hero work after a number of frankly debilitating surgeries, but only for a limited period of time, and that time has grown shorter over the years. Last I checked, I had about three hours a day. After the fight in the USJ though, I wouldn't be surprised if that time shrank a bit more.” Not as much as if I'd already passed on One for All, but probably still by an hour.

     Uraraka-shoujo's hand was pressed over her mouth. “I'm… so sorry,” she mumbled around her fingers. “I know that probably sounds stupid, but-”

     “I know,” Toshinori chuckled weakly, humorlessly. “There's not much else you can say, is there.”

     “No, sensei,” she agreed softly. A solemn sort of silence fell over the room as Uraraka-shoujo wrung her hands together, chewing her bottom lip in thought.

     “Well Uraraka-kun, I believe it’s time for you to be on your way home. I imagine that your parents are expecting a call from you,” Nezu-sensei prompted gently. Toshinori frowned slightly at his boss’s odd phrasing, but was distracted when his student lifted her head, nodding firmly to the principal, then looking up with her jaw set and eyes bright with determination. 

     “If I can help you in any way, please just let me know, okay sensei? Anyway, I’ll see you in class.” She then dashed from the room, leaving Toshinori blinking after her. Tsukauchi nudged him gently, quirking an eyebrow at him with a slight smile.

     “What?” the pro hero frowned at his old friend, only to have Nezu’s soft chuckle distract him once more.

     “It would seem that Togata-kun might have some competition after all.”

     Toshinori blinked again, their slight smiles slowly sinking in. 

     Huh. Now there's a thought.

Outtake:

[Basically Snow White]

I don't think I thanked you for saving us before so thanks

dont worry about it
if not for you the shark guy woulf of got me
so i tink were even

:) Happy to help
I still can't believe you know Sign

yeah it was nice
maybe we can use it in training
secret code and stuff

Yeah!

     “Yeah Dad, I’m okay.”

     Hitoshi glanced up curiously as he heard the soft, tremulous voice. He glanced back from his seat just within the walls of the school, watching as his normally bubbly classmate made her shaky way towards the entrance. 

     “Yeah. Yeah, they’re giving us the rest of the week off of school. No, I don’t think…”

     Uraraka paused, listening to someone on the other end of the line. Her expression fell, her smile faltering. Hitoshi frowned at that.

Sry g2g
ttyl

     “I… I mean I guess I can try,” Uraraka was mumbling as Hitoshi shoved his phone into his pocket. “I don’t… I don’t want to impose on anyone, though, especially where we don’t know each other very well yet. Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be careful. Mhm. I love you both, too. Yeah. Goodbye.”

     Uraraka lowered her phone with a weary sigh, snapping her phone shut and tucking it back into her skirt pocket. Hitoshi’s frown only deepened when she raised a shaky hand to her face and scrubbed at her wet eyes. 

     “Hey, Uraraka,” the boy called quietly, his deep voice carrying across the intervening space between them. 

     The girl startled slightly, her eyes snapping up to meet his. “Oh. Shinsou-kun,” she greeted him, a little bit of cheer entering her voice. “I didn’t see you there.”

     Hitoshi’s frown only deepened. After so many years of pretending that he was fine whenever someone called him a villain or suggested that he use his quirk to get the teacher to bump up his grade, he could recognize a forced smile from a mile away. “Something’s troubling you,” he observed, a mixed statement and invitation. He’d long since learned that in conversations, people were generally more inclined to respond to him when he didn’t phrase things as questions.

     Not that Uraraka seemed to care either way, but old habits die hard.

     Still, he was a little surprised when her smile cracked so easily, tears spilling from her eyes before she slumped weakly to the ground beside him. “Yeah,” she mumbled. “I guess I’m a little shaken up by everything.”

     “Can’t say I blame you. I think we’re all a mess on some level,” Hitoshi shrugged easily, his hand sliding almost unconsciously to brush against the new set of scars on his leg. “So that was your dad you were talking to.”

     “Yeah.”

     “I hope he’s coming to pick you up.”

     “He… can’t.” 

     “He’s working then.”

     “No, he and mom just live too far away, is all.”

     Hitoshi shot her a calculating look. “And yet you come here everyday.”

     “I don’t… I don’t live with them,” Uraraka confessed, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “My parents live way out in the country. It’s too far away to commute, so I’m renting an apartment on my own near the campus.”

     The indigo-haired boy stared at her long enough for Uraraka to start shifting uncomfortably, an awkward blush rising to her cheeks. “So to sum up,” he said slowly, “you were planning on walking home alone to an empty apartment right after a villain attack where we as students were specifically targeted.”

     Uraraka’s blush darkened even further. “Well… I guess that’s about right, yeah.”

     Hitoshi gaped at her, absolutely aghast. “No.”

     “Huh?”

     “No. Not happening,” the boy repeated, pulling his phone back out and closing out of his messages (after noting Kouda's smiley face of acknowledgement) before pulling up his recent calls.

     “Shinsou-kun?” Uraraka asked again as the call connected.

      “Hitoshi? What’s wrong?” 

     “Hey dad, I’m inviting a classmate over.”

     “Huh?!”

      “Well this is a surprise. Who is it?”

     “Uraraka. She has an apartment near UA. I was hoping that we could swing by and let her pack a weekend bag.”

     “W-Wait, Shinsou-kun-!”

      “Are her parents gone for the weekend or something?”

     “She lives alone.”

      “… I see. Well, I guess that’s alright. Nobody should be alone after what happened today.”

     “Yeah, that’s pretty much what I was thinking.”

     “Honestly, your friend should consider finding someone to stay with long-term. It’s dangerous to live alone to begin with, but especially now.”

     “I’ll get her to talk to Aizawa-sensei on Monday.”

     “What am I talking to sensei about?!”

      “That would probably be for the best. Anyway, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

     “See you, Dad.”

     Hitoshi lowered the phone from his ear as his dad hung up on the other end of the line, quirking an eyebrow at Uraraka as she stared at him, fidgeting and open-mouthed, positively daring her to protest.

     “Shinsou-kun… this is too much,” she managed eventually after what looked like several attempts to organize her thoughts.

     “Like hell,” Hitoshi snorted, turning his head back towards the entrance to watch for his dad’s car. “If you’re going to keep insisting on butting into my life, then you can’t complain when I butt into yours.”

     Uraraka fell silent for several too-long moments. He could feel her eyes on him. It was disconcerting, and he found himself shifting awkwardly.

      Was that too far? Oh gosh did I say the wrong thing? I mean, I guess I probably should've asked first-

     “Shinsou-kun,” the girl began, cutting off her spiralling thoughts, her voice oddly hushed, her hand slightly covering her mouth and her eyes wide with surprise and something else that he didn’t quite know how to name when he risked a glance towards her, “is that your way of saying that we’re friends?”

     Hitoshi blinked at her. “Um…”

     The brunette’s eyes softened and she dropped her hand so that he could see her smile, considerably brighter and far more genuine than it had been before as she leaned over and gently knocked his shoulder with hers. “Thanks,” she murmured quietly, and Hitoshi felt himself relax.

     “Sure thing.”

Chapter Text

     Hizashi liked having a bit of noise around the apartment; it helped fill the gap left by his parents and two siblings after he moved out. They'd been a noisy household, especially given that three of the five of them had voice-related quirks. Even when they signed to each other--a necessary form of communication to make sure they didn't destroy the house while they learned to control their abilities--they were rather loud personalities. So naturally, the first thing he did when he woke up every morning was flip on the radio. Normally, he'd turn it to a local music station so that he could jam out while he was in the shower, but today, he turned it to the news. 

      “-controversial story of Vermillion, a hero local to Musutafu, near Tokyo. Rumors have long since surrounded the hero concerning tax evasion and embezzlement, as well as unproven counts of excessive violence and civilian casualties, but according to local police authorities, last week an anonymous tip came providing hard evidence of these speculated crimes, as well as proof of several counts of domestic abuse and unethical quirk use. Vermillion has denied all charges in preliminary investigations, but considering the number of successful investigations sparked by ‘anonymous sources’ providing evidence against corrupt heroes in the past two years, the public is confident that he will be proven guilty.

     “And now we return to our top story: the unprecedented villain attack on the UA Academy of Heroics.”

     Hizashi winced slightly as he steeled himself for whatever was said next. It might be the whole reason he’d opted for the news instead of his usual channels, but that didn't mean he had to be excited about it. 

      “The faculty and police have officially released the information that a class of first-year hero course students at a rescue training facility were attacked by a gang of criminals calling themselves the League of Villains. Little information has been given by police officials concerning their members or their motives, only that this group has reportedly been plotting to kill UA teacher and popular hero All Might since the spring of this year. Three students and two teachers were hospitalized as a result of the attack, but doctors have declared that they will all make a full recovery. Police arrested seventeen members at the scene, but the League’s ringleaders and a significant number of other members escaped. Their whereabouts are unknown. If anyone has any information…”

     Hizashi sighed as he hopped in the shower, letting his thoughts wander while the radio continued to chatter in the background--something about a rescue op and Good Samaritans in an earthquake zone up north and speculation about connections between several new vigilantes in various parts of the country, from the rumored Hero Killer Stain to the so-called 'Gentle Criminal' that had started posting videos about corrupt heroes and about himself busting minor criminal organizations, from drug rings to an especially vocal sect of the Creature Rejection Clan. 

     Honestly, the police had told the media about as much as he himself knew. Yesterday had been wild on every level. When Shouta’s kid, Iida Tenya, burst into the teacher’s lounge, red-faced and gasping for breath, he and the other members of the faculty initially could only stare in shock. Nemuri was the first to react, leaping to her feet and pulling the boy inside, although when she tried to insist he take a seat, he’d shaken his head feverishly, sucked in a deep breath, and babbled for a straight two minutes about the mess going down at the USJ before he took another one. Ectoplasm leaped into action next, instantly forming about a dozen clones that rushed from the room, scattering in all directions to spread the word of the intrusion. Within about five minutes, the campus was going on lockdown, while he and around a dozen other pros raced after Iida to the USJ. 

     Only, when they burst inside, Snipe with guns blazing, Nem with her whip on her shoulder and Higari with his hands to the ground, it was already practically over. About a third of Shouta’s students were already gathered by the entrance, eyes wide with a mixture of hope and terror. The pink girl, Ashido Mina, was crouched by Thirteen’s prone form with tears streaming down her cheeks, and the quiet kid, Kouda Koji, was helping Shouta’s secret love child (not that Hizashi would ever call him that in his best friend’s presence) limp up the stairs. One command from Nezu and the teachers scattered to all corners of the building, searching for the others. 

     Since there were no longer any large groups of villains to deal with, Hizashi himself wound up helping Kirishima Eijirou bring Bakugou Katsuki up from the main plaza, since Uraraka Ochaco obviously had Shouta well in-hand. The blond kid and Hizashi's best friend were both semi-conscious, the former due to shock and the latter due to pain. Neither of them were speaking much, which left it to Kirishima and Uraraka to explain what happened. Apparently, the villains had appeared by the fountain out of a sphere of black smoke that perfectly matched the description of the portal seen at the battle simulation a few days earlier. Shouta had jumped in (because of course he had; no matter how he tried to deny it, it was obvious that he doted on his kids) and Thirteen had led the students back towards the entrance, only to be stopped by the villain responsible for the warping. He introduced their group as ‘the League of Villains’, Thirteen tried to attack and got absolutely schooled on why they were more of a rescue hero, and then the villain scattered the students that didn’t manage to dodge his gate throughout the facility. 

     Kirishima was one of those that dodged. 

     Uraraka wasn’t. 

     From there, the tale became a little more disjointed, as Shinsou began chipping in while Recovery Girl worked on cleaning what appeared to be a bite mark on his leg ("Stupid human shark managed to duck underwater before I could catch him with my quirk."). As they filtered in, other students contributed to the story as well, although frankly very few of them were in any fit state to do so. Honestly, it was somewhat horrifying to see how badly they had been messed up by this attack: Higari climbed the stairs carrying the still figure of Asui Tsuyu, while Tokoyami Fumikage and Aoyama Yuuga trailed behind him, stumbling with exhaustion as they supported one another's weight ("Those villains caused even my sparkling personality to flicker!" "What a mad banquet of darkness."); Hound Dog cradled Hagakure Tooru against his chest, the girl shivering violently judging by the movement of her gloves, while Todoroki--also shivering although not as badly--walked close beside him, keeping his left hand on the girl's shoulder ("I wish I'd noticed her sooner--I almost froze her."); Ectoplasm carefully guided a braindead Kaminari Denki by the arm while Jirou Kyoka and Yaoyorozu Momo followed behind him ("You did good, Pikachu, now go on over to Recovery Girl." "Kyoka-kun, are you actually concerned for Kaminari-kun?" "Oh back off, Yaomomo!"); Sekijiro lugged Ojirou Mashirao’s bruised and semi-conscious body across his back, glancing over his shoulder with no small amount of concern. All the pros had reported a few scattered villains in the respective zones they had visited, most of whom were unconscious, which might be why they hadn’t managed to flee with the other villains.

     (“I can’t believe we let them escape after everything they’ve done!” Nemuri had growled.

     “Well they did catch us completely by surprise,” Nezu sighed in turn. “For now, our priority must be the safety of our students. Half of the present faculty should form a perimeter, just in case, while the rest sweep the facility and apprehend what villains may remain.”)

     While Recovery Girl leaped into doctor mode and Ken slipped off to help All Might after a quiet word from Uraraka, Hizashi tried to piece together the scattered bits of information that the students could give him. From what Hizashi could tell, the students agreed that their opponents weren’t much, but their environments made things more challenging. Even if the attacking villains hadn’t known anything about them, the warp villain obviously had (although Uraraka did comment that if they’d really wanted to mess Bakugou up, he should’ve been sent to the conflagration zone--nitroglycerin sweat mixed with flames would not have been pretty). Most of the students agreed that if All Might hadn’t shown up when he did, then things probably would have turned out much worse, as it was only after he showed up and started fighting some giant black monster that the villains suddenly began vanishing back through the portals. (However All Might himself, as well as Shouta, were more inclined to think that the villains had already been preparing to leave when he arrived.) Beyond that, Uraraka had the most information of all the students.

      “There were three leaders, it looked like. The warp guy, a crazy guy with hands all over his body-”

     “Hands? Were they part of his quirk? Like Shouji-san?” 

     “No, no, like literally dead hands as a part of his costume. It was really creepy. But yeah, them and a boy that I would guess was around our age.” She paused, worrying her lip as she glanced towards Bakugou. “He was fighting Aizawa-sensei, so he was constantly moving around and it was hard to get a clear look at his face, but judging by the picture Mina showed everyone, he looked a lot like Bakugou-kun’s childhood friend. The one he thought he saw at the battle simulation.” 

     And hadn’t that left them with a lot to think about. 

     Unfortunately, the villains had left just moments before he and the other faculty arrived. Despite their disappointment that they didn’t manage to capture the ringleaders, they were at least relieved that none of their students had been too badly hurt. Ojirou was the worst off, with multiple broken bones, open wounds, and a severe concussion, followed by Asui with severe heat exhaustion bordering on heat stroke and Hagakure with onset hypothermia, but none of them would have to be in the hospital for longer than twenty-four hours. When the police arrived, Hizashi left a detective to continue with the questioning while he rode to the hospital in an ambulance with Shouta. He remained there for the rest of the day, accompanied by Hound Dog and Nemuri, watching over their students and coworkers as they were attended to. It was a relief to hear the doctors confirm that everyone would make a full recovery, and even more of a relief to hear that Shouta should be discharged by the following morning. 

     Which was why Hizashi sent a quick text the moment he was finished gelling his hair, then hopped in his car and started driving to the hospital. He ignored the pair of pings! his phone made along the way--it was dangerous to text and drive, after all. One way or another, when he pulled up in the roundabout outside the main entrance, Shouta was waiting for him, hands shoved in his pockets and eyes narrowed with displeasure. Hizashi just grinned and beckoned to him, and eventually his old friend visibly sighed, rolled his eyes, and slid into the passenger seat.

     “I tried to tell you that I could just take the train,” Shouta grumbled as he buckled his seat belt. “But when you didn’t so much as read my texts, I figured it was pointless.”

     “Shouta, you had a concussion yesterday. I’m not letting you take public transportation for the next week at least.”

     “Mother hen.”

     “Alley cat.”

     “Shut up.”

     Hizashi grinned and kept driving. 

     “Mind if we swing by my place on the way?” 

     “No prob.”

     The drive to Shouta’s apartment and then to UA was filled with companionable silence. As much as Hizashi liked a little noise around the house, quiet time spent with a friend was nice, too. It was something he’d learned back when they’d been at UA together. Nemuri had been the kind of friend he could whoop and holler with, the kind who could make him forget his worries for a while so that he could just have a little fun. Tensei had been the mom-friend of the group, the responsible one that kept them in check and reminded them that he was always there if they needed him. And Oboro… Well anyway, Shouta was that friend who somehow just knew when Hizashi was struggling. Without a word passing between them, he’d sit down beside him and just… be there. A quiet, grounding presence through all the turmoil going through his head. He was the friend that didn’t need Hizashi to smile all the time. The rock that would be there through thick and thin. It was a nice feeling, knowing that he had a friend like that.

     The campus was silent when Hizashi parked his car and the two of them headed inside. As soon as the incident was resolved the day before, the students had been sent home and told not to come back the next day. It made the massive halls of the institution feel oddly eerie, like the setting of a horror movie. That sensation faded a little bit when they met Sekijiro on the way to the conference room. He glanced Shouta over once, nodded, and grunted in greeting, and that was it. No words necessary. Hizashi was sure that Shouta appreciated it. He knew that he did. 

     “Well howdy, partners,” Snipe acknowledged as they stepped into the room. Nezu was there, too, as was Nemuri. “Eraserhead, it’s good to see you back with us.”

     “And a good mornin’ to you as well,” Hizashi grinned. He wasn’t certain how forced the expression was. It felt like being back on campus and hearing the oppressive silence brought to a head that yesterday had been real. Villains really had attacked the USJ, and a number of Shouta’s students really had gotten hurt. “Who else are we waitin’ on?”

     “All Might’s on his way with that detective friend of his,” Nemuri piped up. “Ectoplasm is on the next shift at the hospital, keeping an eye on Thirteen, and Power Loader and Cementoss are still figuring out the system overhaul, so they're out. They said it should go faster now that they have a little more data on that villain's warp quirk though.”

     “Yeah,” Snipe sighed. “We weren’t exactly prepared to deal with that. Even after those kids saw it at Ground Beta.”

     “Warp quirks are very rare,” Hizashi acknowledged, making his way to an empty seat.

     “Yes, and they can completely change the course of a battle,” Nemuri agreed. “It’s frightening to know that a villain has such a power.” 

     “The other villains were nothing to sneeze at either,” Shouta frowned, his hand drifting towards his right elbow. 

     “Tenko and Midoriya,” Nezu nodded, noticing the gesture. “I look forward to hearing whatever information you may have on them.”

     “Would you prefer it now, or after the others arrive?”

     “We might as well wait for All Might and Tsukauchi-kun,” Nezu considered, glancing towards his phone. “They should be here any-”

     “Forgive the intrusion.”

     “-moment.”

     “Aizawa. It’s good to see you on your feet,” All Might smiled. Hizashi always felt like when he smiled--or better said grimaced--in that skeletal form, he looked a little demonic, but the gesture was appreciated. By him, at least. Shouta just grunted. All Might took his seat beside Nezu, and everybody turned towards Tsukauchi-keiji.

     “My apologies for being late,” the detective began, bowing to them all. “It’s been a busy morning.”

     Another grunt from Shouta, then, “So how should we proceed?”

     “Well Eraserhead, you’ve had the closest contact with the villains thus far, but I haven't had a chance to properly interview you, so I believe that the most effective way to carry out this meeting would be for me to say what we know and have you fill in as many blanks as you can.”

     “Alright, then. Let’s get going.”

     The detective nodded, pulled a file out of his bag, and began. “Our investigators are trying to learn everything they can about this so-called League of Villains. We’ve made some progress, but we can’t find much. We started out looking for any information on this ‘Tenko’, the villain reported to have pale blue hair and wear hands on his body. We’ve searched our records for men from their teens to their thirties who are registered as having some sort of disintegration quirk, but so far, we’ve come up empty.” He cast a glance towards Shouta, who seemed to ponder this information for a moment.

     “The warp gate villain called him ‘Shigaraki Tomura’,” he said slowly. “It was the boy, Deku, that called him Tenko, and Shigaraki was rather vocally upset when he did. By what he said, the implication was that Tenko was some kind of… childhood nickname. Perhaps he changed his name to Shigaraki Tomura when he became a villain, or who knows, but if that’s his preferred alias, then you may be able to find some information that way.”

     “Good to know,” Tsukauchi-keiji nodded, scribbling a note in the margin of one of the papers. “Speaking of the warp gate villain, we haven’t been able to find any information on him, either. It’s likely that he’s either not a citizen of Japan, or he’s using an alias. Hard to pin down either way. However the third individual leading the attack has proven to be a somewhat more promising lead.” 

     “He didn’t exactly lead the attack,” Shouta muttered. “He didn’t show up until midway through the fight. But yeah, it was obvious that he had some sort of authority over the others.” 

     “Midoriya Izuku, a.k.a. Deku, age fifteen, registered in official government records as functionally quirkless,” Tsukauchi-keiji continued grimly as Hizashi took the picture handed to him. The boy in the photograph was obviously very young. A pale, skinny kid of around twelve with a shy smile and freckled cheeks that gave onlookers the spontaneous urge to squeeze them. He had curly green hair and dark green eyes, but there was something… a little off about them. It took Hizashi almost a minute to realize what it was: the boy’s smile didn’t reach those eyes. 

     “On the twenty-first of May three years ago, a missing person’s report was filed by his mother, Midoriya Inko. He had apparently disappeared on his way home from school, having attended classes all day, according to his teachers. We’ve recently come to learn that Midoriya was in fact caught up in a villain attack on his way home, only to be rescued by All Might here.”

     Hizashi passed the photo along to Shouta, looking towards the tall, skinny blond man with no small amount of surprise as he seemed to shrink in on himself. That seemed a little odd to Hizashi. This was a man that could navigate reporters and cameras with ease; why would he be so uncomfortable under the gazes of his coworkers after being told that he'd saved someone?

     “According to All Might, after knocking the villain unconscious, he called in the incident, tied the man up with his belt and prepared to leave, since he was about to lose hold of his stronger form, but Midoriya, not understanding the situation, followed him to ask if it was possible to be a hero even if he was quirkless. As a result, the boy happened to see All Might’s weakened form. In the conversation that followed, All Might explained his injury and told Midoriya that he didn’t think it was possible to do hero work without a quirk.”

     Hizashi winced a little bit. So that was why All Might looked so awkward under their scrutiny. But, well, he couldn’t really blame the guy. This was a difficult line of work, after all. Considering All Might's own experiences, he wasn’t really surprised that he’d wanted to warn the boy away from it. Still, there were some people shooting poisoned glares across the room at the number one pro, Nemuri foremost among them. 

     “How could you crush a boy’s dreams like that?” she glowered at the man.

     “I’ve already had this discussion with Recovery Girl,” All Might sighed, seemingly resigned to their disdain. “What I said, no matter my intentions, was insensitive at best, and I recognize that, but that’s not the focus of this meeting.”

     “Right,” Tsukauchi-keiji nodded in agreement, pulling another piece of paper from his file. “During the investigation spurred by Midoriya Inko’s report, Midoriya Izuku’s belongings were found abandoned on a bridge overlooking a river with no signs of a struggle. When this note was found with it, the team investigating his disappearance was led to believe that he had committed suicide.” Once again, Hizashi accepted a sheet from the detective. This time, it was a scan of a piece of paper torn from a notebook, with a note written in slightly-shaky hiragana: 

Dear Mom,
     I’m sorry that you have to find out this way. I wish I could have told you in person, but if I had, you would only have gotten hurt. I’m sorry that it has to be this way, but at least like this I’ll finally be able to change things. I’ll be able to show everyone that even a deku’s life matters.
     I love you. And Dad. Please don’t blame yourselves. I hope to see you both on the other side. 
Love,
Izuku

     Something in the pro hero’s chest seemed to tighten slightly as he read it. It was devastatingly simple, and just vague enough to be interpreted in exactly the way the police force had seen it. But, knowing what they knew now, it seemed even worse than a suicide note. Midoriya Izuku had obviously known exactly what he was getting himself involved in when he decided to become a villain. His wording was strange though. What exactly was he trying to change? And what was ‘the other side’? Hizashi frowned as he passed the note along. Shouta frowned as he read it, too--he had probably picked up on the strange wording as well. 

     “All Might,” he began slowly, “are you absolutely certain that when you met that boy he didn’t have a quirk?”

     “Well, I suppose I never saw evidence of it either way. But I do know what he asked me, and it was if he had a chance of becoming a hero without one.”

     Shouta’s frown deepened and he passed the note on to Snipe. “Tsukauchi, are you certain that the records of his not having a quirk haven’t been tampered with in any way?”

     “As certain as I can be without launching a deeper investigation. Why?”

     “Because he definitely had a quirk when I fought with him,” Shouta replied, his eyes boring into the inspector’s. A ripple of surprise passed through the room and everyone turned to face the underground hero. “When the kid appeared during the battle training, Nezu and I discussed the possibility of Midoriya simply being under the power of someone else’s quirk--someone with an ability to conceal others or who knows what else--but fighting him one-on-one made it obvious that the kid has some sort of ability. His jumps and hits were much too powerful for any quirkless individual, and anyway, he had a tell. His eyes glowed green every time it activated.”

     “By what you described, do you think that this Deku has some sort of strength enhancement quirk?” Nezu piped up. Shouta visibly hesitated.

     “I think it’s a possibility,” he said finally, “but just one of many. He also seemed to have impossible dexterity and on occasion I swear he turned invisible. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that the kid had multiple quirks.”

     Hizashi jumped when All Might coughed violently, a line of blood trailing from the corner of his mouth. Mumbling apologies, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the trail of red away, but he still seemed a little off, exchanging quick, nervous glances with Nezu and Tsukauchi-keiji. If Shouta noticed (which he probably had), then he decided not to comment on their strange behavior. 

     “Could he possibly just be a late bloomer?” Nemuri frowned.

     “Possibly,” Nezu conceded, “although manifesting a quirk later than the age of seven is unheard of. It is possible that he had some form of ‘invisible quirk’, one that just needed the right conditions to be revealed, although based on Aizawa-kun’s description, I find that hard to believe. If Deku did indeed manifest a new quirk at his age, then he is a medical marvel. A scientific discovery.”

     “What other possibility is there?” Snipe frowned.

     “I’m not certain yet,” the principal replied easily, “but I would be very interested in finding out.”

     “So what else do we know about this kid?” Sekijiro cut in.

     “Midoriya Izuku has been neither seen nor heard from in the last three years.”

     “So we don’t know anything,” Sekijiro groaned, leaning back in his chair.

     “Not exactly. We know that prior to that time, he was just starting his second year of middle school. He lived alone with his mother, Midoriya Inko, his father Midoriya Hisashi having been out of the country for work reasons. My understanding is that Midoriya-san has returned to Japan since his son’s alleged death. Other than that, we know that Midoriya Izuku was a good student, although he didn’t appear to be involved in any extracurricular activities and didn’t appear to have any friends.”

     “That’s not entirely true.”

     “Aizawa-kun?”

     “Midoriya did have at least one friend, although I get the sense that there’s some complicated history there,” the underground hero clarified, fishing something out of his scarf. “And actually, he was spotted about a year ago.” Hizashi watched with no small amount of interest as Shouta pulled out the composition notebook they’d stopped by his apartment to fetch and slid it across the table towards Tsukauchi-keiji. “Start at the beginning. That’s where I’ve managed to translate the bulk of his notes.” The detective quickly took the item in hand and flipped it open. Within a minute, his eyebrows had crept up half the height of his forehead and Hizashi couldn’t handle the suspense anymore.

     “What is it?” he asked, peering at the cover, which appeared to say something about analysis in vaguely familiar handwriting. 

     “It’s a quirk analysis journal, most likely written by Midoriya Izuku.”

     “Where on earth did you manage to find this?” Tsukauchi-keiji asked, a little dazedly as he tore his eyes away from the page he’d been reading.

     “One of my students had it. Bakugou Katsuki. Apparently, he and Midoriya grew up together. They were in the same class in middle school when he disappeared.”

     “An' how did he come to have this journal?” Snipe piped up, his mask doing little to distort the sound of his frown. 

     “Do you remember the sludge villain incident last year? Bakugou was in fact the student involved. He told me that he saw a person that looked vaguely like Midoriya. Upon seeing him, the individual ran and Bakugou gave chase. He wound up in what appeared to be a deserted alleyway and was taken hostage. He managed to use his quirk to free himself moments before he passed out, but before that happened, he claims that he actually saw Midoriya, and it was him who told him how he could escape.”

     “A stress hallucination?” Sekijiro offered from across the room.

     “That was my first inclination as well. But then he found that notebook in the alleyway. According to Bakugou, Midoriya used to write in notebooks like these all the time when they were younger. Back then, he was obsessed with heroes. Used to follow fights so he could take notes on their quirks and techniques in the hope of becoming one someday. That alone wouldn’t be enough to convince me, but this particular notebook also contains notes on some villains--villains that I personally saw and fought at the USJ.”

     “Indeed? Might I have a look, Tsukauchi-kun?” Nezu asked, and the detective handed the notebook over, still looking a little shell-shocked.

     “If that happened almost a year ago, then why didn’t anyone start searching for Midoriya sooner?” Hizashi frowned.

     “Probably because it was too circumstantial,” Tsukauchi-keiji groaned. “A boy that had just come from a stressful situation claiming that his childhood friend that had been dead for two years had appeared to him right before he lost consciousness and told him how to escape, his only evidence being a journal with no name attached to it?”

     “Alright fair point,” Hizashi groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. How had this become so complicated? “So what do we do? Interrogate Bakugou about his long-lost friend?”

     “I’ll definitely be interviewing him,” the detective nodded. “If they really have been friends for so long, then he might have some insight into why Midoriya chose to turn to villainy.”

     “Judging by the note he left for his parents, I can already guess the basics,” All Might sighed, passing the aforementioned note to Nezu, who seemed more than a little reluctant to tear his attention away from the notebook in his paws.

     “Oh?” Sekijiro frowned.

     “He said that he wants to show the world that 'even a deku’s life matters'. Considering that’s the alias he’s chosen to use as a villain, I suspect the word has a much more personal meaning for him than it does for most. If he really was quirkless up until recently, then it’s very likely he was a bully victim in school. Of course how he intends to change the world is anyone’s guess, especially considering the actions taken by the League of Villains so far, but I’d be willing to bet that at the core of his motivation is a desire to improve the lot of people like him. Of the quirkless, or at least of the social outcasts.”

     “That would fit with what he said at the USJ.” 

     Hizashi glanced towards his best friend, noting the thoughtful frown twisting his lips. It was rare that Shouta and All Might agreed on anything, so the fact that they were agreeing on something like this was a little bit concerning. It was so much harder to fight a villain with ideals than it was to fight a petty thief.

     “What did he say?” Tsukauchi-keiji prompted. “It might give us some insight into his plans.”

     “Well, when he spoke to me, he mentioned several of my students, citing them as being potentially disillusioned by hero society and what it stands for. That became even more clear when he spoke briefly to Bakugou. I couldn’t quote him word for word; I had a concussion and was pretty dazed all around at the time. But it was something about realizing he couldn’t save people as a hero, so he decided to do it as a villain.”

     “That seems… remarkably noble for the leader of a villainous organization,” Sekijiro frowned. Shouta’s eyes snapped towards him, and Hizashi internally winced. It was time for his bestie’s soap box.

     “Kan, what exactly do you think the difference is between a hero and a villain?”

     “Their actions, of course. One tries to uphold the law, and the other breaks it.”

     “No. It’s perception. I have yet to meet a single criminal that didn’t believe they were breaking the law for a valid reason. Maybe that reason would seem petty to you or me. Maybe it would seem downright twisted, but one way or another, they all believed themselves to be justified. A thief believes that he needs the money. A killer believes that he needs revenge. A terrorist believes that the world needs to change. History is written by the victors. That’s the only reason we see one side as right and another side as wrong. As a UA teacher and a pro hero, you should already know that.”

     “Are you suggesting that we simply overlook the boy’s actions?”

     “The boy threatened the lives of my students--of course I’m not saying that we should brush him off. If anything, I’m saying that Deku may be the biggest threat this school has ever faced. After all, the most dangerous villains in history were the ones that believed they had something worth protecting. And if this kid truly believes he’s saving the world, then he has a whole lot to protect.”

     “I would even go so far as to say that Deku may be one of the greatest threats our entire society has ever faced,” Nezu agreed softly, his eyes gleaming in a worrying way as he set the notebook down. “His quirk is a mystery. He’s a talented enough fighter to hold Aizawa-kun at bay in single combat. He’s extremely intelligent and has an eye for determining an ally's or opponent’s strengths and weaknesses if this journal is anything to go by. And he has a cause and a conviction to fight for.”

     “That doesn’t change the fact that he’s a fifteen year old kid,” Snipe frowned.

     “A fifteen year old kid that got over seventy villains to view him as their leader,” Shouta countered. “He obviously has the charisma.”

     “Didn’t you say the kid didn’t show up until the end though?”

     “Yeah. I got the sense that Shigaraki went behind his back with the attack.”

     “But if that’s the case, wouldn’t that imply that they view this Shigaraki as a leader just as much as Deku?”

     Shouta hesitated; obviously he hadn’t thought of that. “Could they possibly be rivals of some sort?” Hizashi suggested cautiously. “Like they’re somehow competing for the top spot?”

     “Well, part of that could be explained by the fact that several of the villains taken into custody claimed that they'd been hired that very day. However, some had been at least loosely connected to the League for longer. If Midoriya and Shigaraki are in some kind of competition, it would mean there’s someone over both of them, waiting to award the position,” Tsukauchi-keiji frowned, shooting glances towards All Might and Nezu. 

      “If that’s the case, then I’d say Midoriya is winning. Hands down,” Shouta snorted softly.

     “How so?”

     “First, his command to the Nomu creature superseded Shigaraki’s. Second, Kurogiri followed his orders primarily. Third, he gave Shigaraki orders and called him out for insubordination. Fourth, he was completely unafraid of Shigaraki even though the guy could disintegrate him with a touch. And finally, he had this air of authority around him that everyone in the vicinity could feel, myself included.”

     “Not to mention that Shigaraki has the personality of an entitled little brat,” All Might muttered, nodding in agreement. “When things didn’t go his way, he was visibly upset--honestly, he acted more the part of a child than Midoriya did. He threw a tantrum when Nomu was defeated and didn’t respond well to orders, such as when he was commanded to retreat. It seemed like he’d never been told 'no' before, like he thought things would go his way no matter what. He kept talking about Nomu like it was some kind of pet, bragging about its power and screaming whenever he thought that it wasn’t trying hard enough. He was like… some sort of man-child.”

     “A child with incredible power though.”

     “That’s no excuse when a fifteen year old boy acted with more maturity than him,” Shouta snorted. Hizashi stared at them, still a little shocked that Shouta and All Might were actually agreeing on something. 

     “A child that behaves like a man, and a man who behaves like a child,” Nezu mused. “It’s frightening to think how much common ground both these individuals may share with our students. They all have so much potential. And, like our students, I suppose--as Tsukauchi-kun suggested--that it’s possible someone may be guiding them, trying to nurture their malice and villainy.”

     “I don’t wanna think about what that could mean,” All Might groaned, leaning on his clenched fists, his blue eyes fixed on the table.

     “So what can we do to stop them?” Nem asked quietly, obviously worried by the furrow of her brows.

     “Well, this case has been given top priority, even over the recent rash of corruption cases in the station,” Tsukauchi-keiji smiled in a way that was probably meant to be reassuring. “We’ll expand our investigation and continue searching for the perpetrators who planned this attack.”

     “In the meantime, we should probably discuss how to proceed from here,” Nezu agreed, smiling. “First, I think we ought to consider the upcoming Sports Festival. We should decide upon which pro heroes we want to ask to attend as extra security-”

     “We're not holding the Festival. End of discussion.”

     Hizashi blinked at Shouta, surprised by the determined set of the glower he sent in the principal’s direction. It wasn’t the bluntness that was shocking--that was kind of Shouta’s thing. It was the worry hovering just below the surface of those dark eyes, the concern that he usually kept so carefully hidden behind his gruff exterior.

     “Not that I don’t understand your concern,” he began slowly, “but I wasn’t expecting you to be the most outspoken on the matter, Shouta.”

     “Nor I,” Nezu agreed slowly. “Your reasoning?”

     “That notebook for one. As you said, Midoriya has a talent for picking apart his enemies’ strengths and weaknesses. He’s already shown an inordinate amount of interest in my class and likely all of UA judging by what Shinsou told me a few days ago. Do you really want to put every single student’s capabilities on display after he openly declared war on them?”

     “It is precisely because of that 'declaration' that I believe we should continue with the Festival,” Nezu replied calmly. Hizashi actually reached out to grab Shouta’s shoulder when his best friend’s eyes flashed angrily in return (literally--he subconsciously activated his quirk). “According to the information passed on from Shinsou-kun, Midoriya has already been watching the school and its students for multiple years--perhaps since his disappearance three years ago. If that is the case, he likely knows everything there is to know about our second and third year students already, and judging by the warp villain’s actions during the USJ attack, he has likely already gathered the bulk of information he could use against your first years as well. So we may as well demonstrate that this attack will not hold our students back.”

      “My first years, maybe. But all of the others? Highly doubtful. How can we possibly risk their lives on a political statement?”

     Hizashi found himself biting his lip as he chewed over that thought. He didn’t have a homeroom class, but he taught English to all of the first years in the school. He didn’t want any of them to get hurt. And God, seeing the looks on those kids' faces after the USJ… He really didn’t want anyone else to have to go through that kind of terror. Especially not this early into their hero training. 

     “Not for a political statement, no.” Nezu replied lightly. “The Sports Festival is an opportunity for hero course students to make connections--to be noticed by pros seeking promising proteges. If we want our students to be capable of standing against this newest threat, then they need the training that the Sports Festival invariably leads to.”

     “Then let’s just give them the extra training ourselves! They shouldn’t have to take that kind of risk!”

     “We may be working on a system overhaul, but considering that Midoriya has gone completely undiscovered in the past three years of forays onto campus, do you really think we can guarantee that he wouldn’t still find a way to observe such training?”

     “So we just televise their abilities instead?!”

     “I never said that,” Nezu countered calmly. Shouta hesitated, and Hizashi’s hand on his shoulder relaxed slightly. “I propose that we not televise the Festival this year. Furthermore, we don’t open up the stands to the public, nor do we open up booths for vendors outside the venue. Instead, we send out invitations to specific pro heroes to watch the festival and have police and more pros working shifts around the perimeter to prevent any unauthorized access to the stadium. Finally, we can make participation in the Sports Festival optional to students. That way they can choose whether or not to take the risk that less trustworthy eyes may have found a way to spy on them. Does that sound agreeable?”

     “Perhaps… that could work,” Shouta muttered, although the worry never left his eyes.

     Hizashi couldn’t blame him. He glanced towards the photograph now resting near Sekijiro on the opposite side of the room. The conversation cautiously moved forwards towards logistics and people who should be invited to the Festival, but Hizashi wasn’t really listening. That shy, joyless smile seemed to mock him, reminding him that this enemy they were facing was still a child. Someone the same age as his students. Someone that he should have had the responsibility to protect, not fight.  

     He couldn’t help wondering, if they had been able to reach Midoriya Izuku before the League did, could things have turned out differently?

Outtake:

     Ochaco hurried across the sands, casting a regretful frown towards the piles of junk scattered across the beach illuminated by the sun as it descended towards the horizon. This was probably once a beautiful place. The kind of place that people came to all the time, but now Dagobah Beach was basically an illegal junkyard. It seemed a strange place to meet on a Sunday evening, but she supposed that at least the mess meant that there was nobody around. 

     Maybe she could convince some of her classmates to help her clean it up?

     “All- Yagi-san!” she corrected herself as the skinny blond man came into view, seated on a bench set close to the ancient wharf midway down the beach. He glanced back towards her, a tired smile twisting his lips as he waved for her to join him. Panting slightly, Ochaco accepted the wordless invitation, taking a seat beside her teacher. “What’s up?” she asked without preamble, smiling up at him even as she fought to catch her breath.

     He blinked, obviously a bit startled, then chuckled. “You seem well, Uraraka-shoujo,” he smiled. “I hope you’re not shaken too badly by everything, then.”

     “Oh, I was a mess that first night,” Ochaco shrugged, “but Hitoshi-kun has been nice enough to let me stay with his family over the weekend, so it hasn’t been too bad overall.”

     “Shinsou-shounen seems like a good friend.”

     “He really is, even if he’d never admit it,” Ochaco laughed, looking over the sunlit water. It really was awful that so many people in his life had cast him aside just because of his quirk, because Hitoshi-kun really was an incredible person. She shook her head slightly, casting aside such sad thoughts. “So anyways, what did you want to talk to me about?”

     “Ah. Well, I… I wanted to get to know you a bit better,” All Might admitted, rather awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Er, not in a strange way of course. It’s just… well, you know a rather sensitive secret about me, young lady, and I do trust you, but, I suppose I feel obligated to… keep track of the people that I have entrusted it with.”

     The brunette blinked at him, then beamed, her brown eyes scrunching up with the width of her smile. “Well, alright then! What d'you wanna know?”

     "W-Well, for starters, I was curious about the combat skills you displayed before?"

     "Oh that," Ochaco laughed a little, grinning. "The pro hero Gunhead came to my hometown a couple of years ago to teach a self-defense seminar. I loved his class, so I've kept it up over the years."

     "Well, it's obvious that you learned his lessons well, Uraraka-shoujo."

     "So? What else?"

     “Erm, well, I already know what your quirk is and that you want to be a hero… although I suppose I am curious as to why?”

     “Hm,” Ochaco murmured, turning towards the ocean once more. “If we're cutting to the chase, it was about the money.”

     All Might choked next to her, spraying blood, his blue eyes wide. There followed several minutes of the both of them scrambling for a handkerchief and apologizing back and forth because… well, honestly she couldn’t remember how it had started. “So, what is it about the money that appeals to you, young lady?” the blonde asked after regaining his composure, wiping his bloodied lips with the tissue they’d eventually found.

     “My parents own a construction company,” Ochaco explained quietly, fidgeting in her seat, “but in a world of quirks, there isn’t exactly a lot of work for them. It’s not so much that I care about money, really, it’s just that my parents have sacrificed so much in their lives to care for me. I want to be able to make enough money to give my parents an easy life, and since I enjoy helping people too, being a hero just sorta… fit.”

     “I see. That’s quite admirable-”

     “But…” Ochaco mused, frowning down at her hands, “it’s more than that now, ever since I saw Bakugou-kun’s friend at the USJ. Y'see, I grew up poor. So poor, we didn’t always have enough to eat. I remember feeling so… lost. Helpless, even. There was one time I remember sneaking down in the middle of the night because I was so, so thirsty, only to run back up the stairs because I saw my mom crying over the most recent water bill and my dad just holding her and trying to be strong. I remember what it was like to feel desperate, and alone, and like nobody could help us. Like nobody cared to help us. And when I saw Bakugou-kun’s friend, just for a second, I thought that he looked the same: lost and hopeless, just like I was back then. 

     “I guess… I guess I wanna be the hero that reaches out to those kinds of people. I wanna be the hero that brings hope to the ones that fall through the cracks. That saves the people nobody knows need saving. Then, maybe, we’ll have a few less people in the world that are desperate enough to become villains.”

     All Might had fallen eerily quiet by the end of Ochaco’s quiet confession. She was almost afraid to glance up at him, wondering what she would see in his eyes. But when she finally worked up the courage to meet his gaze, all that Ochaco could see was warmth. Warmth and maybe even something like pride. She blinked in surprise as the man reached out, gently placing a hand on top of her head and offering her a kind smile, so much more genuine than the ones he gave in his muscly form. 

     “If anybody can do it, you can, Uraraka-shoujo,” he murmured, turning to watch the sunset once more. “You’ll be a remarkable hero one day. I know it.”

Chapter Text

     It rankled Eijirou that he hadn’t been able to do anything at the USJ. Well, he’d been able to help Satou prop the door open long enough for Iida to escape and get help, but that was it. He hadn’t been able to protect his classmates, and three of them had ended up in the hospital and four others had needed attention from Recovery Girl. And he had just… watched. Watched and waited while his best friend headed over to the plaza and actually tried to help. And Uraraka… Man, that girl might have been the manliest person in the facility. Well, aside from the teachers. But she actually managed to take down one of the main villains! And then she immediately set about trying to help the others! She really was going to be an incredible hero one day; that much was obvious. Eijirou was glad that he could count her as a friend.

     And speaking of friends, he was worried about Bakugou. Everyone was, not that they’d say it to the guy’s face. (Well maybe Kaminari would--Eijirou could swear that guy had a death wish--but he’d been too out of it to comment on much of anything yesterday.) As crass and abrasive and reckless as he could be, he knew that everyone in their class admired him to some extent, even after only a week of knowing each other. He’d placed first in the entrance exam, demonstrated incredible control and power in the quirk assessment test, and he genuinely cared about people in his own, surly way. So the look in his eyes when they'd separated to head home had been… scary. Lost and trapped and dark in a way that Eijirou had never seen before. 

     That was why he found himself walking to Bakugou’s house around 14:00 the day after the USJ attack. UA had given them the weekend off of school, which was nice and all, but he needed to move or he was going to scream from all of the thoughts that were trying to cram themselves into his head. Namely about what Uraraka had whispered to him the day before. 

     That Izuku had been among the ranks of the villains.

     Nobody answered the door when Eijirou knocked. That was… unusual. Masaru might be in the office, but Mitsuki almost always worked from home--perks of being a fashion designer. Had the family gone out for the day? Considering how badly the attack yesterday had messed him up, he wouldn’t be too surprised if Bakugou’s parents decided he needed a distraction, but he doubted that his best bud would’ve felt very up to being in public. But maybe…

     On an impulse, Eijirou hopped off the front steps and turned further up the street, heading towards the nearby apartment complex. Even if he hadn’t slept over at her house with Bakugou a couple of nights before, the route to Inko-san’s apartment was impossible to forget. She was that kind of motherly figure that spontaneously adopted every single kid she met and opened her door and her heart to anyone in need of a home. He frowned when he caught sight of a police car parked outside, but there didn’t appear to be any kind of emergency happening. There were no flashing lights, no shouting, no loud sounds of any kind, really. Still, he found himself walking a little bit faster than normal as he headed up the stairs to his best friend’s obasan’s apartment.

     He heard familiar voices shouting from the end of the walkway. While that wasn't exactly uncommon for the Bakugou household, combined with the police car out front and his recent experiences, Eijirou felt a surge of panic hit him and his fast walk broke into a run. But before he could reach the apartment door, it suddenly burst open and Bakugou himself came tumbling out. Eijirou didn't even have a chance to ask what was wrong before his best friend was off like a shot, tearing past him fast enough to put Ingenium to shame. 

     "Oi, get back here, brat!" yelled an ash blond woman as she appeared in the doorframe, her crimson eyes dark with worry.

     "Baku-kasan?"

     "Oh- Eijirou." Bakugou's mom managed a weak smile, but she didn't smirk and playfully whack him upside the head the way she usually did when he called her that. She must really be worried then. 

     "Should I…?" Eijirou began hesitantly, pointing after his friend. 

     "…Yeah. Maybe you can talk some sense into him. Better hurry if you wanna catch him."

     "Yeah. Later!"

     Eijirou always forgot just how fast Bakugou could run until he had to chase him. Then the memory always flooded back. By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, his friend had already completely disappeared from sight. The redhead grimaced slightly and pulled out his phone. He knew that old Blasty would never answer him if he tried to text or call, so he skipped both options and simply pulled up their shared 'Find My Friends' app. Once he saw the direction the cartoony bomb (he couldn't resist the moment he saw it was an option) was headed on his map, he set off after him. 

     It still took awhile to find him--the app had a hard time once Bakugou went off-road. But he managed it eventually, spotting the ash blonde seated on a wooden log acting as a makeshift bridge over a shallow stream, staring glumly down at the fast-running water. Eijirou didn't bother saying anything. Didn't even make any extra noise to announce his presence. He just walked carefully onto the wide log and cautiously sat down beside him, ancient and termite-riddled though the wood was. Bakugou didn't react, so Eijirou didn't try to force a conversation--he knew better than that by now. Instead, he tilted his head back and enjoyed the cool breeze off the water, taking in the crystal clear sky and listening to the birdsong on either bank. He wasn't certain how long they remained in that position, but eventually Eijirou allowed his eyes to slip closed, lulled by the warmth of the sun on his shoulder and the soft rushing of the water, only the need to maintain his balance keeping him from dozing off where he sat. 

     "I…"

     Eijirou's eyes snapped open, instantly alert at the sound of Bakugou's tight, tear-strained voice. He watched his best friend swallow hard, his fingers interlacing and his palms pressing together, his fist clenched so hard that his knuckles were turning white. 

     "I think… I should drop out of UA."

     Eijirou stared at him, his jaw dropping in blank shock. "You… You want to… What?!"  

     "Quit gaping, Kirishima. You heard me loud and clear."

     A cold chill ran down Eijirou's spine. Bakugou calling him by his actual name? That was never a good sign. So he snapped his mouth shut, took a deep breath, shoved down his rising panic, and forced his voice not to waver. "You've always wanted to be a hero, ever since the day I met you. What changed?" he asked when he was reasonably certain he wasn't going to screech with the shock again.

     "Nothing changed," Bakugou replied, "but I can't be a hero. Not anymore."

     "Why?"

     "Because heroes are supposed to stop villains, not create them."

     Whatever Eijirou had been expecting Bakugou to say, that most certainly wasn't it. He opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, closed it, swallowed, and tried again. "Bakugou… You aren't responsible for Izuku's choice-"

     "Bullshit."

     “…Why?”

     Bakugou didn’t respond right away. He just stared at the river, that dark, lost look creeping back into his eyes. “I hated him,” he whispered abruptly. The words startled Eijirou enough, but it was his tone that was as disconcerting as anything. His default for any emotion was screaming. But right now, he just seemed… drained. Exhausted. Matter-of-fact. 

     “Hated who?”

     “Izuku.”

     “…What?” Eijirou stared blankly (he seemed to be doing that a lot today). “I thought you guys were best friends?”

     “We were best friends, sure,” the blonde sighed, still not looking at him, “but that was a long time ago.”

     “…What happened?”

     “A lot of things. I got a quirk. I got praise. An ego bigger than I was. And Izuku… didn’t. He was an easy target. The ultimate measure for how much better I was,” Bakugou spat venomously, his fingernails digging into his palms. The darkness in his eyes was almost overwhelming now. “Started with teasing. 'Deku' was one of those. It was a different pronunciation of his name. I called 'im that 'cause it meant 'worthless'. But it was just the start. Before long, it got physical. Bruises. Burns. But the little bastard always managed to stand up and keep going. Then, one day, I fell.”

     "Fell?"

     "Right here," he nodded, lightly tapping the log bridge. "I was out with a group of kids from the neighborhood, and I slipped and fell into the water. Just for a second, I was terrified. I wasn't as used to falling back then, not to mention when I hit the water, I landed on some rocks and scraped myself up pretty bad. But I was the best. The strongest. I couldn't show fear or pain. When I came up, the other kids were all talking like I was fine, like I could handle anything. 

     "All of them except Izuku."

     Eijirou watched with bated breath as Bakugou heaved a shaky breath, subtly blinking back tears. “Izuku came straight down from the bridge to make sure that I was okay. It didn't matter to him if I was strong or weak. All that mattered to him was that I was his friend, and he wanted to make sure I wasn't hurt. And I hated him for it, because in my mind, it meant that he had seen right through me. He knew, on some level, that I wasn't as strong as I wanted everyone to think I was. In that moment, he proved that he was a better hero than I could ever be, and I spent the rest of my school years trying to prove otherwise. But all I ended up doing was prove how much of a worthless pile of shit I really was.”

     The tears were falling freely down Bakugou’s face now. Honestly, Eijirou could feel them pricking at his eyes as well, but the fact went unacknowledged by either of them. “No matter what I did, he refused to give up. He was always back on his feet by the next time I saw him, mumbling about heroes and quirks and scribbling in those damn notebooks of his. He wanted to go to UA, too; nothing was gonna stand in his way, not even being quirkless. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and I screamed at him to… to go jump off the roof. Then a couple of days later I found out that Izuku had disappeared, and the police were saying it was suicide.”

     “Bakugou…”

     “Now suddenly he’s back. He’s back and he’s alive and I finally have a chance to apologize and tell him how wrong I was and that he can be a hero, and it turns out he’s gone and turned into a Goddamn villain!!” He was gasping for breath now, his voice caught somewhere between a snarl and a sob. “And that’s why… That’s why I can’t be a hero. I don’t deserve it.”

     Everything about the blonde’s posture radiated defeat. It was honestly terrifying. Bakugou was the guy who didn’t care about the odds. He was the guy who fought and clawed his way to the top. The guy who never gave up. The guy who was determined to see his dreams through. Seeing him like this was so… not Bakugou it… it just felt wrong.  

     “If you want to leave,” his friend whispered as the silence stretched, “I wouldn’t blame you.”

     There was more than one meaning to that. Bakugou wasn’t just talking about the here and the now. He meant forever. He was offering to let him cut ties, now that he knew the truth. 

     If Eijirou hadn’t been so worried about him, he might have felt insulted.

     “Katsuki,” he said quietly, noting how the boy twitched at the sound of his given name, “we’ve all made mistakes. I’m not saying that what you did was okay because hell… that’s messed up, man. But that doesn’t mean you can’t change. It doesn’t mean that you haven’t changed already. If you hadn’t recognized your mistakes, then I might’ve walked away. But dude, I’ve seen you fight like a lion to get a handle on your temper these past few years, and I can’t even count the number of times you’ve stood up to bullies in the past. Yeah, you made one hell of a mistake. But you’ve learned from it. You haven’t let it hold you back. And that might just be the manliest thing a person can do.”

     Bakugou’s eyes seemed to bore into his, swimming in a mixture of shock, confusion, and-- thank God-- hope. Then the blonde glanced away, something like fear flickering across his face. “I… I don’t know if I can fix this, Kirishima. Izuku’s still a villain. Even if I become a hero, I’ll have to fight him eventually. One way or another, the situation's gone to hell.”

     “So the only two options are become a hero and beat Izuku, or don’t become a hero and Izuku takes over the world or something?” 

     Bakugou huffed softly. A weak replacement for laughter, but Eijirou would take it. “Good, so we know what the losing scenarios are. So what would make it a win?”

     “…Izuku becomes a hero with me.”

     “Well that’s good to hear,” Eijirou grinned, and his friend shot him a frown. 

     “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

     “Well, the Bakugou Katsuki I know is the guy who doesn’t stop fighting until he wins,” the redhead shrugged. “If anyone can beat the odds, then it's you.”

     “He said that he was 'past saving', ya’ idiot. I think it's pretty obvious Izuku wants to stay where he is.”

     “Okay, that's one way to look at it.”

     “Then what's the other way?”

     “A challenge to prove him wrong.”

     Bakugou stared at him blankly for a moment, then abruptly snorted, reaching up to swipe at his eyes and trying to hide a small smile by turning to look back at the stream. “I guess you have a point there, Weird Hair.”

     Eijirou grinned at the nickname. “There’s the Bakugou I know,” he chuckled, returning his attention to the river as well while leaning back against his hands to stretch out the tight muscles in his back. He watched his friend hesitate out of the corner of his eye, reaching up to awkwardly rub the back of his head.

     “Actually,” he began hesitantly, “you can call me Katsuki if you want. I mean, you basically know all my darkest secrets now. Feels kinda weird to act all formal still.”

     The redhead’s grin practically split his face in two. It was as close to a 'thank you' as he would ever get from the abrasive blonde. “Well in that case, you can call me Eijirou.”

     “Nah, I think I’ll stick with Weird Hair. It suits you better.”

     “Whatever you say, man. Whatever you say.”

.oOo.

     The police car was gone by the time they got back. Baku-kasan spent a good hour yelling at Katsuki for making her worry about him while Inko-san just yanked them both into bone-breaking hugs before plying them with tea, cookies, and anything else that she could think of (and pretending that it wasn't obvious that she'd been crying for hours straight). They spent the rest of the weekend beating each other at videogames, spending the night at each other’s houses, and avoiding the news at all costs (neither of them much wanted to see ‘Deku’s’ face plastered over every channel in existence with warnings about how dangerous of a criminal he was and how anyone with information should come forward). At some point Bak- Katuski had offhandedly mentioned that they had homework due Monday. All it had taken was a pointed stare for the blonde to shrug and mumble, “Don’t cry to me when Aizawa kills you,” before having his game character pound Eijirou’s into the ground. 

     He was right of course. Monday morning came with an air of impending doom, and Eijirou had no one to blame but himself. But that didn’t seem to matter as much as it maybe should, because his best bro was smiling again, albeit in a very B- Katsuki kind of way, snorting and baring his teeth at a MeTube video of epic quirk-stunt fails as they rode the train to UA. They got a few awkward stares along the way from people who recognized their uniform, but nobody tried to ask them about the USJ--Katsuki had a way of warning people off with little more than a look. Normally Eijirou would scold him for that, but today he was just glad that he didn’t have to try and fend off any uncomfortable questions. 

     “…I doubt anybody noticed me in the background,” Hagakure was sighing as they walked into class.

     “Yeah, it’s kind of hard to stand out when you’re just gloves,” Ojirou agreed, scratching his cheek with an awkward expression.

     “Yeah, we’re kinda famous now,” Kaminari agreed, “although I wish we were famous for something other than getting pounded into the ground.” 

     “Oh hey! Kiri! Blasty! You guys doing alright?” Mina called eagerly, waving to them as they headed towards their desks. She was practically brimming with energy, her smile bright and eager, although her golden eyes were still dark with worry.

     “Yeah,” Eijirou reassured her as he walked past her desk. “The break was good for us, I think. Had a chance to clear our heads and all that.”

     “Glad to hear it,” Mina smiled, her eyes softening, and in the process making Eijirou’s stomach flip. But he grinned through the sensation and took his seat, getting settled as Iida marched into the room, calling for everyone to take their seats for the start of homeroom.

     “Iida, you’re the only one still standing,” Jirou sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose at the antics of her overzealous fellow class officer. 

     “Dang it…!”

     “Don’t sweat it!”

     “Morning, class.”

     “Good morning, teach!” Mina cried cheerfully, waving as their manly teacher entered the room, closely followed by Todoroki, who seemed even more closed-off than usual. He made his way to his desk without a word, avoiding eye contact, so Eijirou decided that he might as well turn back to their teacher. 

     Mina's earlier energy was a stark contrast to how exhausted he looked, rubbing his forehead between his eyes, the bruise-like marks underneath them even darker than usual. He frowned, wondering if he was alright, and found his thoughts spoken aloud by Asui.

     “Aizawa-sensei, are you feeling okay?” she called in her usual blunt manner, frowning slightly, her finger resting thoughtfully against her chin.

     “My well-being is irrelevant,” their teacher replied flatly as he walked to the podium. “The important thing is that your fight isn’t over yet. The UA Sports Festival is coming up.”

     “Aw, yeah!” Sero whooped, “Let’s go kick some ass!” Normally Eijirou would be just as excited as the dark-haired boy, but this year, all he could do was shoot a worried glance in Bakugou’s direction, remembering recent events.

     “Wait a second,” Kaminari spoke up, echoing his unspoken thought.

     “Is it really such a good idea to hold the Sports Festival so soon after the villains snuck inside?” Jirou agreed, frowning deeply.

     “Yeah, they could attack once we’re all in the same place!”

     “If that was the villain’s intention, then they would have just attacked the school at large, not the USJ,” Aizawa-sensei sighed, but even as he did, there was an angry glint in his eyes. “But you do have a point. The UA Sports Festival is one of the biggest events in the world. Everyone who has even the slightest interest in competition watches it. It’s a huge opportunity for Hero Course students such as you--after all, the Sports Festival is where you get scouted by pro heroes looking to take on interns and eventually sidekicks--so apparently we can’t afford to simply cancel the event outright. But having you all on such blatant display is also incredibly dangerous given recent events. Which is why, this year, we’ll be making a few changes.” 

     “Changes?” Yaoyorozu frowned, quirking her head to one side. “What sorts of changes?”

     “To start with, the Festival will not be broadcast this year.”

      “What?!” the class yelped in collective shock.

     “But… But then how is anyone gonna have a chance at being scouted?! Not to mention my parents won’t be able to see it; they can’t afford live tickets to the Festival!” Hagakure squawked, the sleeves of her uniform indicating how wildly her arms were flailing. 

     “That’s another change. The Festival will not be open to the public. Only heroes and support company representatives will be allowed, and only by private invitation.”

      “WHAT?!?”

     “The administration is also going to have extra security around the stadium, both pro heroes and members of the police force. The villains that attacked the USJ have already demonstrated an unusual amount of interest in UA as a whole, and certain members of this so-called League of Villains have been shown to have considerable skill in quirk and fighting style analysis. As such, the administration has decided to avoid giving the villains any opportunity to get any more information than they already have. Additionally, just in case any of you are concerned with the possibility of villains viewing the Festival regardless, this year you are allowed to opt out of the Festival entirely. If you choose that option, I’ll need to get your name on a list, so come talk to me.”

     “Dang. The top brass aren’t kidding around here, are they,” Kaminari muttered. Eijirou couldn’t see his face from where he was seated, but he imagined that the blonde’s expression was similar to his: wide-eyed and staring at Aizawa-sensei with something like shock.

     “Personally, I wanted to cancel it altogether,” their teacher shrugged, shuffling through some papers. “As it is, the Festival got pushed back an extra week to give us time to make the appropriate accommodations. Anyway, this was the compromise, so consider your choice carefully.”

     “Sensei.”

     “Yes Shinsou, what is it?”

     “I’d like to opt out of the Festival,” the indigo-haired boy said in his usual, quiet way.

     “What?! Dude, do you realize what kind of opportunity you could be throwing away?!” Sero gaped at him. 

     Shinsou’s response was to shoot a flat stare in the dark-haired boy’s direction. “I was going to ask about dropping out anyway. Villains or not, the Sports Festival attracts too much attention for someone with a quirk like mine.”

     “Hitoshi-kun, is this about people saying you have a villainous quirk?” Uraraka asked quietly, her expression twisted in worry.

     “Not at all. I’m already in the Hero Course; I’ve got nothing to prove. It’s just that I plan on being an underground hero when I go pro. Face it, my quirk is more effective if nobody knows how it works. So I’d rather not give anyone any potential clues to figure it out.”

     “A logical decision,” Aizawa-sensei nodded. “See me at the end of the day. We’ll talk about how to proceed with internships then. Class dismissed.”

     When lunch rolled around, the only thing that anyone could think about was the Sports Festival and the unusual circumstances surrounding the yearly competition. Nobody other than Shinsou had openly declared their intent to drop out so far, but Eijirou knew that a few people were considering it. He… honestly wasn’t sure.

     “So Katsuki-” 

      “Katsuki?!” Mina interrupted, half-squealing as she paid for her lunch. “Since when were you two so intimate? Is this a budding high school romance I see?!”

     Eijirou rolled his eyes at her while Katsuki scoffed. “As if,” he snorted.

     “Give my taste in personalities more credit, Mina.”

     “Oi!”

     “Well fine, if you guys say so. This seat taken?” Mina asked, shooting a grin at Jirou.

     “Nah, go for it,” the other girl shrugged, jabbing Kaminari with her earphone jack as he tried to sneak one of her dumplings while her head was turned.

     “Ouch!” the blonde yelped, rubbing his ribs. "Was that really necessary?”

     “You’re the one trying to steal my food,” Jirou replied flatly, taking another bite of her noodles.

     “So what’re you guys doing for the Festival?” Sero asked as Katsuki set down his plate next to him.

     “I’m taking first place; what else, moron?” 

     “My, someone’s feeling confident,” Kaminari grinned. “I think I’m gonna go for it, too. I mean, the security’s gonna be insane, so I figured why the heck not, you know? And if they do attack again, we’ll be surrounded by pros. No civilians to worry about.”

     “Kinda disappointing that they aren’t gonna broadcast it, though,” Mina sighed. “My mom’s gonna be ticked she can’t see me compete.”

     "Heck everyone's gonna be ticked that they can't see us compete. This is the biggest sporting event in the world, you know."

     “It makes sense, though. Even if the villains seem to know a lot about our class, they probably don’t know as much about the others. It’s damage control,” Jirou commented.

     “So what are you guys gonna do?”

     “I’m totally in,” Sero grinned, “and I’m gonna be gunning for the top spot, so don’t get too comfy Bakugou.”

     “Get in my way and I’ll destroy you.”

     “I think I’m gonna pass.”

     “What! Why, Kyoka?!”

     “Look, I get why the Festival’s important, I really do, but those villains’ stealth capabilities are insane. They probably know that I can hear really tiny sounds by now, but Pikachu here managed to electrocute all the guys attacking us before the warp guy could spirit them away, so I doubt they know about my sound wave attacks yet. If there's any chance of the villains sneaking in, I just don’t wanna risk revealing my hand too soon, you know? What about you, Kirishima?”

     The redhead glanced towards the blonde seated next to him. He could guess Katsuki’s reasons for being in the festival. On the practical side of things, with Izuku in the League of Villains, they probably already knew everything that there was to know about Katsuki’s quirk. And anyway, if he ever wanted to get his friend back, then he had to start building his name and career now. “I guess I’m in, too,” Eijirou shrugged, baring his teeth in a grin. He had helped Katsuki start this path. He wanted to help him finish it.

     “Sweet! Guess I’ll be seeing you in the finals then,” Sero grinned. 

     “What do you think the others are gonna do?”

     “Well, Satou’s joining in no questions asked, and Tooru’s probably gonna be there too judging by her chat with Ojirou earlier," Mina mused through a mouthful of rice. "Tsu-chan’s in, but Yaomomo’s considering dropping out--something about family connections and keeping her quirk on the downlow--and I think Ochaco’s on the fence about it. Speaking of, who’s that guy she’s talking to?”

     Eijirou twisted in his seat, following Mina’s gaze to where their brunette classmate was standing by the door on the far side of the cafeteria, chatting to a tall, skinny blond man with a slight slouch and blue eyes that he could see from half-way across the room. As he watched, Uraraka nodded, said something to Iida, Shinsou, (her usual lunch group), and Kouda (when had he started hanging out with them?) and followed the man out the door, taking lunch with her. “No clue,” he shrugged. “Must be some kind of faculty though, right?”

     “The guy does seem familiar for some reason,” Katsuki frowned, his eyes kind of thoughtful and far away. 

     “Hm. Well, whatever. So what did you guys think about Cementoss’s lesson today?”

     Lunch and the rest of the afternoon passed relatively quickly. Everyone was still in a flux about the Sports Festival though, and it seemed that their class wasn’t the only one.

     “What… What the heck is this?!” Uraraka yelped as she opened the door to leave the room and found the hallway literally crammed with students. “Um, why are you all here?!”

     “Do you students have some sort of business with our class?”

     “Yeah, no offense, but you look like an angry mob…”

     “They’re probably scouting the competition,” Todoroki’s low voice sounded through the room as he walked quietly towards the door. “We’re the class that drove off a real villain attack. They wanted to see us with their own eyes. Now move. You’re in my way.”

     “Todoroki-kun, don’t be rude!”

     “So this is the infamous Class 1-A. I heard you were impressive, but you just sound like a bunch of arrogant bastards!” 

     Eijirou blinked, frowning at a blond boy that had managed to shove his way to the front of the crowd, his grey eyes containing an almost manic glint as he grinned at them. “Scouting the competition?” he jeered. “Don’t make me laugh! If any of us in General Studies do well in the Sports Festival, the teachers can decide to transfer us into the Hero Course, and they’ll have to transfer people out to make room! Those of us that were cast aside in favor of the quirkless and villainous will soon prove just how superior we are! Consider this a declaration of war, Class 1-A!! You’d best watch out, because I, Monoma Neito, am coming for you!!” 

     Eijirou felt himself bristle in anger as the obnoxious blonde cackled wildly, and he most certainly wasn’t the only one. Uraraka had an expression like a spitting cat as she moved protectively in front of a glaring Shinsou, and Katsuki simmered like a pot about to boil over.

     “Yeah, is this the class with the quirkless kid in it?” someone else in the hall muttered.

     “I'd heard that they let a quirkless kid into the Hero Course this year. Is that why you only have nineteen people? ‘Cause the quirkless guy got himself killed during the villain attack?”

     “All of you extras shut the hell up; you’re giving me a headache,” Katsuki snarled, his temper finally snapping. The entire hallway fell silent as sparks crackled across his palms, burning off the nitroglycerin buildup before he could be tempted to unleash it on the crowd. Then he rose to his feet, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and marching up to the grey-eyed warmonger.

     “Let's get one thing straight here, Hero Course Reject: nobody here’s impressed by your quirk elitist bullshit, you got that? Especially considering that you obviously can't back it up if you were shoved off into General Studies. You wanna hate on the quirkless? Fine. That’ll make it all the better when that kid kicks your ass in the Festival. And as for the rest of you extras, if you wanna scout the competition or declare war or whatever the hell it is you’re trying t'do, that’s fine by me. Just know that you’d better give it all you got, ‘cause we sure as hell aren’t gonna pull our punches just ‘cause you’re Gen Ed.” He grinned, and Eijirou couldn’t help but snicker when the front row of students flinched back a little bit. “You may think you’ve got a good reason to fight, but so do we, so don’t expect us to roll over just because you tell us to. In the end, the one who's right'll be the one that's standing at the top.”

Outtake:

     It was the first day back after the USJ incident. Shouta still wasn't happy with the board's decision to continue with the Sports Festival, but there wasn't anything he could do about it now. 

     There was, however, one other matter that was bothering him. 

     He couldn't remember a whole ton of his conversation or fight with Deku. Considering the force and severity of his concussion, it was remarkable that he remembered anything at all. But, there was one glaringly important detail that refused to leave his mind. That was why, instead of napping in the teacher's lounge as he usually would when he got to school this early, he was sitting outside of his classroom, watching with half an eye as his students passed by him until he saw the one he needed to talk to.

     "Todoroki."

     The heterochromatic boy startled slightly at the single word, then rapidly schooled his features and glanced towards him. 

     "Sensei?"

     "May I have a word?"

     Now that he was watching for it, he could almost see it as the panic flashed through his student's eyes while he tried to remember what he might have done wrong. 

     It made Shouta's blood boil.

     Todoroki composed himself quickly, nodding stiffly and allowing Shouta to lead him to his office. Once there, the boy looked to him uncertainly, clearly unsure of what to do next without some kind of direction. The underground hero bit back a sigh and indicated for Todoroki to sit in his office's only comfortable chair while he took a metal fold-out for himself. Then he took a moment simply to watch Todoroki, noting the subtle way that his fingers curled and uncurled, growing increasingly agitated as the silence stretched.

     "You're not in trouble, Todoroki," he said quietly.

     The boy nodded again, but he didn't look convinced.

     "Something came up during the USJ attack that I felt needed addressing. Before I say anything else, I want you to know that as both your teacher and a pro hero I care about you and want to help you if you will let me."

     This time, something like curiosity passed across the boy's face, mixed with confusion and a flicker of--concerningly--defensiveness. 

     Shouta took a deep breath.

     "Todoroki, would you be willing to tell me the story behind that scar?"

Chapter Text

     “Hey Kendo! Good morning!”

     “Hey guys! Excited for the Festival?” Itsuka grinned, ignoring the ball of nerves swimming in her gut.

     “Yeah, ready as I’ll ever be,” Tsukino smiled back. “My sister’s pretty disappointed that she won’t be able to watch, though.”

     “Oh that’s right! Kira-chan, right?”

     “Yeah.”

     “Well, just be sure to do your best so you have some cool stories to tell her later.”

     "Well I’m just ready to crush Class 1-A," Tetsutetsu grinned, slamming a steel fist into a steel palm.

     "Oh please. Don't tell me that idiot from 1-C has poisoned you, too," Tsukino sighed, running his fingers through his dark hair. 

     "What?! Of course not! But they're our competitors, ya' know?! I’m just getting pumped up for the battle ahead of us!"

     "Technically, we're all competitors here, Tetsutetsu," Itsuka pointed out with a smirk. “We have no way of knowing what the events will be, so some of them may even be cooperative, but they always end with a one-on-one competition. We’ll all be enemies by then.” 

      “But for now, let’s all at least pretend to be friends, yeah?” Tsukino grinned, draping his arms around both their shoulders, his bright blue eyes gleaming.

     Itsuka and Tetsutetsu both laughed, returning the gesture as they made their way towards the stadium. “Only for you, Tsukino. Only for you.”

     “ID cards please,” a policeman requested as they approached the entrance. “Also, please relinquish your bags for mandatory searching.”

     Itsuka quickly dropped her backpack on the table beside a policewoman with soft blue wings folded against her back, removing her wallet first so that she could show the first officer her student ID, her friends following suit. 

     “Ah, young man, what might this be?” the policewoman frowned, opening the cloth-wrapped package that Tsukino had dropped on the table alongside his messenger bag. Itsuka was distracted by the officer checking over her own ID, but she did catch sight of polished wood and a glint of silver.

     “Oh, that’s my support item! Hang on, I have the paperwork in here somewhere,” the dark-haired boy muttered, rummaging through his bag before making a soft noise of triumph. With a broad grin, Tsukino handed the small packet over to the policewoman, who checked it over carefully for the appropriate signatures and stamps before verifying the information in her own files and finally running the support item under some sort of high-tech scanner. 

     “It looks like it checks out,” the officer smiled, rewrapping the cloth and handing it back with the packet. “Good luck today, kids.”

     “Thank you, ma’am!” 

     “I didn’t know that you were bringing a support item,” Itsuka commented as they made their way through the stadium towards the waiting area for Class 1-B.

     “Yeah, what is it?!” Tetsutetsu added enthusiastically.

     “Well, I’m not going to need it until the one-on-one matches, so I’d rather not talk about it just yet,” Tsukino admitted with a small smile. “Sorry guys, but if I’m up against either of you, I’d rather have the advantage of surprise, you know?”

     “I guess that’s fair,” Itsuka acknowledged. “May the best hero win, and all-”

     “Would you look at that! It’s the quirkless hero wannabe! Getting ready to lose, are you?!” a high-pitched voice sneered, and the girl’s head snapped up towards the speaker.

     “Ugh, doesn’t this guy ever take a break?” she grumbled, glowering at the obnoxious blonde that had been making their lives hell for the past three weeks as she gently took her friend’s arm. “Don’t listen to him, Tsukino. He’s just bitter.”

     “Running away, are you? Why not come back here and face me, little cripple! Show me how worthy you truly are!” The blonde cackled madly. Itsuka growled in the back of her throat, her grip tightening, but she managed to restrain herself from bloodying up the kid’s nose.

     Tetsutetsu was somewhat less self-disciplined. 

     “What the hell did you just call him?!” her friend barked, his eyes flashing angrily.

     “Ooh, did I strike a nerve there?”

     “Tetsu, come on, it’s not worth it,” Tsukino pleaded, grabbing the other boy’s shoulder. “It’s fine; it’s nothing that I’m not used to.”

     “Hell no, not until he takes back what he said about you!!”

     “Don’t waste your energy on that extra. The bastard’s all talk; he couldn’t back it up if he tried,” a new voice growled, and Itsuka turned with some surprise to see Class 1-A’s resident hothead approaching, closely followed by his more level-headed, red-haired best friend. The General Studies kid spluttered in protest, almost choking in rage and possibly even a bit of fear as the slightly taller blonde walked invasively close to him, grinning dangerously. “And anyway, whatever he said, it won’t mean anything after he gets his ass whipped today.”

     “Easy, man,” the redhead beside him chuckled wearily, patting his shoulder. “Save it for the field, remember.”

     “Yeah, yeah, Weird Hair,” his friend sighed, glancing back towards Itsuka and her wide-eyed friends. “See ya out there,” he smirked, then strode off towards the Class 1-A waiting area.

     Itsuka quickly took advantage of the stunned silence to grab both of her friends by the arm and half-lead, half-drag them through the door of the Class 1-B room a few meters away, shutting it behind them. “Well, that was…”

     “Unexpected?” Tsukino offered, putting down his things.

     “Mildly put, yeah.”

     “That salty moron still causing you grief?” Kamakiri growled on the other side of the room.

     “Yeah, but it’s really no problem,” their friend shrugged. “Like that 1-A kid said, it won’t matter after I beat him.”

.oOo.

     “I just wanna say, you’d better fight like you mean it, giving it one hundred percent. Otherwise, you don’t deserve to be here,” the blonde from Class 1-A--Bakugou, Itsuka’d learned in Midnight-sensei’s earlier announcement--growled, his red eyes sweeping the crowd of first year students. There was a ripple of surprise among the watching students and even some cries of anger or protest as he finished his ‘speech’, but most of the watching crowd of pro heroes didn’t seem too bothered. A lot of them even clapped or cheered. And honestly, he had a point. This year, everyone in the Festival had chosen to be there. If they weren’t gonna give it their all, then they were just wasting their time, right? The strawberry-haired girl leaned curiously around Setsuna to watch him approach his red-headed friend.

     “Dude, manly as I’ll get out, but you’ve gotta let it go, bro,” the guy sighed. 

     “Yeah, Todoroki was a jerk earlier, but you don’t have to be a jerk back,” a pink-haired girl next to him piped up.

     “The guy thinks he can win this thing with only half his strength; no way in hell am I gonna let that go. It’s just damn arrogant,” Bakugou snarled, shooting a withering glare towards another boy with half-red and half-white hair glaring right back a few meters away. Todoroki, huh? Why does that sound familiar?

     “…Yeah, I guess I can see why you wouldn’t like that much.”

     “Eh? Am I missing something here?”

     “Without further ado, it’s time for us to get started! This is where you begin feeling the pain--the first fateful game of the Festival! What could it be?! TA-DA!!”

     “An obstacle race, huh?” Itsuka murmured, and Tsukino hummed next to her, looking thoughtful as his eyes scanned the screen.

     “The members of all eleven classes who opted into the Festival will be participating in this treacherous contest! The track traverses four kilometers around the outside of the stadium. I don’t want to restrain anyone, at least in this game. As long as you don’t leave the course, you’re free to do whatever your heart desires!”

     “Does that mean we can punch out any competitors we want?” Tetsutetsu growled, eyes narrowed towards a certain blond General Studies student. 

     “Down, boy.”

     “Now then, take your places, contestants!”

     Watching the green lights and awaiting the countdown was agony. Still, Itsuka did her best to breathe deeply, finding her center like her old martial arts instructor had taught her in order to calm her rapid heart rate. 

     One light disappeared. Three.

     “Good luck, guys,” Tetsutetsu muttered.

     Another light. Two.

     “Right.”

     Last one.

      “Begin!!!”

     The obstacle race was a madhouse from the very start. Fighting through the doorway was insane, especially after that two-toned kid from Class 1-A froze everything-- Todoroki, right? Granted, a surprising number of students managed to get clear, especially among the Hero Course kids, but it was still nuts. Then the “Robo Infernos” turned up. 

     Again, Todoroki managed to pull ahead, but everyone else managed to get their feet under them pretty quickly too (“Don’t expect to get away so easily you Icy-Hot bastard!!!!” Bakugou had screeched, explosions bursting from the palms of his hands). Itsuka spared a glance for Tetsutetsu and Bakugou’s red-haired friend, both of whom had apparently managed to get caught in the collapsing rubble from Todoroki’s attack, as well as for Tsukino, who did surprisingly well dodging the robots and snagging a fallen piece of metal from one of them to use as a weapon or shield as needed. Itsuka felt like she did a fair job herself, shrinking the size of her hands when she needed to move quickly and expanding them at just the right moment to smash through the joints. Still, Tetsutetsu and Tsukino managed to outrun her, the former just tanking any hits he received and the latter dodging his way through like he was dancing--he’d always been more nimble than he looked. 

     The pits were harder. Itsuka was grateful for her oversized hands then. It made it a lot easier for her to grip the ropes and pull herself across hand over hand. Still, that part of the course became something of a bottleneck, not unlike the gateway to the course had been. By the time she reached the minefield, only maybe a quarter of the group had cleared them. The two kids in Class 1-A that were at odds had taken the lead, somehow managing to fight explosion-on-ice while not stepping on any of the mines. Itsuka began picking her way through the minefield as well, trying not to flinch every time she heard someone scream. 

     About twenty feet in, the largest explosion that she had yet heard made Itsuka jump, the wind pressure nearly blasting her back so that she narrowly avoided putting her weight on a mine. Then she looked up to a massive pillar of pinkish smoke, only to see-

      “Tsukino?!?”

     Her dark-haired friend had somehow managed to dig up a bunch of the mines, then used the metal plate he had snagged from the robots as something of a launching platform to send him rocketing towards first place. 

     She couldn’t quite keep track of him after Bakugou and Todoroki started using their quirks in earnest, not to mention after another plume of pink smoke rose up near the end of of the field, but for the first time since the race began, she listened intently to Present Mic’s excited commentary as she continued picking her way through the field. “Come on, you’ve got it. You’ve got it, Tsukino,” she muttered under her breath, exchanging terrified but excited glances with Tetsutetsu when he happened to glance back towards her.

      “Who would’ve imagined at the beginning of this race that the climax would be a non-stop megamix of surprises!?! And the first to make it back to the stadium is our champion… TSUKINO AITO!!!!”

     “YES!!” Itsuka shrieked, unable to contain herself and drawing more than a few strange looks from the people surrounding her. Tetsutetsu crowed in delight as well, but he was a little too distracted by trying to beat out that redhead to celebrate for long. 

     The remainder of the race passed in a giddy blur, because whatever rank Itsuka managed to get, her quirkless best friend had managed to take first place in the UA Sports Festival!! Well, only the first round of it, but who cared?! That bastard from 1-C had nothing on him now!!

     It was chaos by the time she managed to cross the finish line, panting for breath and beaming as she searched for Tsukino and Tetsutetsu. The latter she saw in some kind of argument with the redhead from Class 1-A (I really need to learn his name). As for Tsukino, she eventually caught sight of him somewhere in the middle of the field, bent over slightly and gasping for breath. Itsuka grinned and began making her way over to him, only for Bakugou to beat her to it, marching up with narrowed crimson eyes and a fearsome scowl. Itsuka hesitated for only an instant before hurrying over, worried that his competitiveness might have driven the blonde over the edge, so to speak. But, to her surprise, as she got closer, she saw Bakugou extend a hand towards her friend, lips moving, but too far away for her to hear him. Naturally, Tsukino accepted the gesture with a broad grin, making some sort of comment that she couldn’t hear, to which Bakugou replied with rolled eyes and a smirk before walking away. 

     “Hey, Tsukino!” Itsuka called, jogging up to him.

     “Oh. Hey, Kendo!” her friend grinned back.

     “What was all that about?” she asked, glancing towards the hot-headed blonde.

     Her friend shrugged. “He just congratulated me on my win. Although, he did warn me that he wasn’t going to hold back in the later events just because I’m quirkless. I told him I’d be insulted if he did. I think he appreciated that.”

     Itsuka managed a smile. “Nice to know that not everybody’s as prejudiced as that bastard in 1-C.”

     “Yeah, he seemed pretty excited to rub it into that guy’s face that I won.”

     “He’s not the only one; believe me. Anyway, that was amazing!”

     “Thanks, but it’s not like I had some big plan in mind, you know? I just tried out a few things that worked out better than I could’ve hoped. My real ability will be tested out after this.”

     “Fine, be a pessimist if you want. Just know that I’m proud of you, ‘kay?”

     “Heh. Thanks, Kendo.”

      “The first game for the first years is finally over, and what a game it was! Now let’s take a quick look at the standings, shall we? Only the top forty-two will move on to the next event, but don’t feel too left out if you didn’t make the cut! We’ve prepared other opportunities for you to shine!”

     Tsukino had been followed by Todoroki Shouto and Bakugou Katsuki. Then came Shiozaki and Honenuki from their class, then another string of Class 1-A kids: Iida Tenya, Tokoyami Fumikage, Sero Hanta, and Kirishima Eijirou. (Ah, so that’s his name. No wonder Tetsutetsu was upset; he placed right after him.) Ojirou Mashirao placed after Tetsutetsu, followed by Awase, then Asui Tsuyu, Satou Rikkido, Uraraka Ochako, and Ashido Mina. Then came Kaibara, Tsubara, Kaminari Denki, Yanagi, and finally Itsuka herself. Shishida, Kodai, Rin, Shoda, and Kamakiri placed next, then that bastard Monoma Neito, Tsunotori, Hagakure Tooru, Fukidashi, Hatsume Mei (Who’s that?), and Aoyama Yuuga, followed by a whole slew of General Studies and Support kids. 

     “It looks like all of the Class A and B kids that decided to join the Festival made it into the top forty-two,” Itsuka mused softly. “That means we’re all moving on to the next event. Ugh, and that General Studies jerk.”

     “Dammit, I was hoping he’d get crushed under the robots.”

     “Oh! Hey, Tetsu! Didn't see you there.”

      “Now the fun really begins!” Midnight-sensei declared as another casino-style randomizing machine spun behind her. “The chance to fully move yourselves into the limelight! Prepare yourselves… for this!!”

     “Cavalry Battle!” another blond kid from Class 1-A groaned nearby. “I’m terrible at those!”

     “Huh. That’s not an individual event. I wonder how they’ll split us up?”

      “Allow me to explain! The participants will split themselves up into teams of two to four people as they see fit! In theory, it will be just like a regular playground game, but there is one key difference. Everyone has been assigned a point value based on your ranking in the previous event! That means the value of your team will change depending on who you have on it! Now, values go up by increments of five, with the forty-second place being five points and the second place being two hundred and five. The value of first place however is ten million points!!”

     Tsukino choked, his eyes blowing wide. “Um,” he managed, noticing how literally everyone in the stadium instantly turned towards him, their expressions ranging anywhere from eager to outright hostile. Itsuka automatically placed herself in front of him, her big sister instincts instantly awakened. 

      “These are the rules that you’ll play by! The game itself will last fifteen minutes! Individual point values will be added to create your team’s total. Every team must steal as many headbands as they can to increase their total. Stolen headbands must be worn from the neck up by the rider--no hiding them elsewhere on your body! That means the more you steal, the harder it will be to manage them! And another thing: even if your headband is stolen or your team falls down, you can keep playing until time’s up! You may use your quirks as much as you like, but if you make a team fall on purpose, then I’ll slap you with a red card and you will be disqualified! Now, you have fifteen minutes to build your team! I’d advise you to get started!!”

     “Tsukino!” Itsuka began instantly, whirling on her friend. “You, me, and Tetsutetsu! Let’s team up!”

     “Uh… Are you sure?” Tsukino blinked, startled by her rapid response. “People are gonna be gunning for me like crazy since I’m worth so much…”

     “Yeah, which is why we should team up! You should ride, since you’re usually the man with a plan, and Tetsutetsu and I can defend, since we’re both heavy-hitters with combat-oriented quirks.”

     “I like it,” Tetsutetsu grinned fiercely. “And anyway, in a game like this, it’s better to team up with people you can work well with.”

     Slowly, Tsukino relaxed, grinning. “Alright, if you’re sure. But we should still try to find one more person. Someone who’s quirk is related to mobility, like Tsunotori or Shishida, or even that kid with the engines in Class 1-A, or-”

     “Hey, Ten Million!! Team up with me!!!”

     “Um. Who are you?” Tsukino blinked, startled by the sight of a pink-haired girl in oversized steampunk goggles shoving her face into his. 

     “Name’s Hatsume Mei, from the Support Course! You don’t know me, but I’d like to use your current fame for my personal gain!”

     “Hey shove off, we don’t need-!”

     “If I team up with you, that means I’ll be part of the spotlight team that everyone’s keeping their eyes on! That means more potential investors will have a chance to see my beautiful babies, which means this is the best way for me to get recruited!!”

     “Wait. ‘Babies’?” Itsuka blinked, bewildered by the sudden turn that the conversation had taken.

     “Exactly!! The Support Course builds inventions designed to help Heroes deal with their quirks and enhance their skills, so we’re allowed to bring our inventions into the Festival with us! Haha! I packed a ton of powerful babies to bring with me, so I’m sure that you’ll find one you like in my arsenal! Ooh, I see that one’s caught your eye!” the Support student squealed, lunging for one of the ‘babies’ that she had packed in her suitcase. 

     “Is that… a jetpack?” Tsukino asked, his bright blue eyes suddenly taking on a calculating gleam as he bent over the invention.

     “Why, yes it is! I designed it based on the gear of a certain hero!”

     “It’s perfect,” Tsukino suddenly grinned, glancing between Itsuka and Tetsutetsu. “What else do you have? I’m starting to get the inklings of a plan.”

.oOo.

     "Holy crap I can't believe that worked!" Itsuka groaned, shaking out her arms as Tsukino climbed down from Tetsutetsu's shoulders, the two of them still clutching the final headbands that had pushed them into the top four teams in their hands. 

      "I still can't believe you managed to snag that last headband while I went for the ten million," her friend laughed. 

     "Honestly, neither can I." 

     "Guys, we're in the finals!!!" Tetsutetsu whooped exuberantly, tackling his two best friends to the ground in his enthusiasm. Tsukino and Itsuka could only laugh. It was probably heavily fueled by exhaustion and adrenaline, but who could blame them? They'd done it. They'd made it to the final tournament.

     "It was a pleasure working with you, Ten Million," Hatsume grinned, packing up the last of her gear. "If you ever need a support item, you know where to find me~!!"

     Itsuka could only laugh as the pink-haired girl skipped away, her grin wide and eager. “She’s an odd one, but her inventions did save our butts more than once back there.”

     “No kidding! That jetpack is the only reason we managed to avoid Honenuki-kun in those first few minutes.”

     “Not to mention her wire arrow thing and the jet boots. We really needed the mobility help with everyone coming after us like that.”

     “Yeah, you know in a weird way I’m grateful to Monoma for distracting Bakugou-san the way he did. I don’t think we could’ve taken both him and Todoroki-san.”

     “That was so cool how you snagged him with that net gun, though!! The look on that ice kid’s face; he was so shocked!!” Tetsutetsu laughed.

     “Well, it helped once I realized that he could only use ice from his right side. I don’t know what the deal is with that, but it made him easier to dodge once I knew to stay on his left.”

     “It’s probably why he had Shiozaki and that electric kid on his team, to defend when he couldn’t.”

     “Yeah, that combined with that 1-A kid’s super move? Didn’t go so well for us.”

     “Didn’t do much at the end, though!” Tetsutetsu grinned fiercely. “Once their horse couldn’t move, they were sitting ducks!”

     “Still, I missed the ten million. If Kendo hadn’t managed to grab that last headband, we wouldn’t have moved on to the next round.”

     “It’s a pity that Monoma jerk is in, too,” Itsuka sighed, “but they needed sixteen people to complete the roster for the next round. Who would’ve guessed that one of the top four teams would be a team of two?”

     “Yeah, Dark Shadow and Zero Gravity, right? That was a really cool move they pulled, though: combining their quirks to fly! It’s little wonder they made third place!”

     The three of them continued to chat on their way to the cafeteria, enjoying the time to relax as they ate. Several people came up to congratulate them as they did. It was odd to see how many of them came up specifically to congratulate Tsukino.

     It was even more odd to see how many of them specifically ignored Tsukino.

     “Looks like I still have to prove myself,” Tsukino sighed, picking at the remnants of his rice as yet another General Studies student walked away sneering while Tetsutetsu screamed at their back. 

     “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone,” Itsuka countered firmly. “You’ve already earned your right to be here. If they can’t see it, then they’re the ones with something to prove, not you.”

     “Thanks, Kendo.”

     “So anyway, who all does that put on the bracket?” Tetsutetsu asked, still huffing.

     “Well, the top four teams were Todoroki-san, Bakugou-san, Ms. Zero Gravity, and us, followed by Monoma. So we have Todoroki-san, that electric guy, Mr. Engines, and Shiozaki-kun from their team, Bakugou-san, your twin-” 

     “He is nothing like me!!”

     “-Mr. Tape Arms, and the pink girl from second place, Ms. Zero Gravity and Mr. Dark Shadow from third place, all of us from fourth, and then they pulled Monoma and that French kid from fifth place.”

     “I still feel kinda bad for the other General Studies kid that was on their team. It was obvious that he wanted to be in the final round, but his teammates just kinda brushed past him,” Itsuka sighed, bringing her cup to her mouth.

     “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure that it wasn’t malicious, at least in the case of the Class 1-A kid. He was just a little… overeager.”

     “Well, we’ll see how it goes in the tournament. Do you know how they organize the brackets?”

     “I’m pretty sure it’s just random selection.”

     “So that could go either really well, or really badly for us.”

     “We’ll find out soon enough.”

     About ten minutes before their lunch break ended, Present Mic called all of the continuing competitors back to the arena. “Alright everyone, come up and draw lots to see who you’re up against!” Midnight-sensei called from the front of the stage, “Then you have the option of joining in the recreational games available before we start. Participation is not mandatory, but if any of you just want to blow off some steam before getting into the real battles, you’re welcome to do so. I’ll start with the first place team!”

     “Seriously?! How does this keep happening?!” Tetsutetsu howled when he saw his name appear next to Kirishima Eijirou’s. Itsuka snickered at him, but continued to search curiously for her opponent.

     “Ashido?” she frowned. “Who was that again?”

     “That’d be me!” squealed a voice from beside Tetsutetsu’s twin/nemesis, and Itsuka turned to see the pink-skinned girl from Bakugou’s team, the one with the acid quirk. “I can’t wait to melt your butt,” she winked, beaming, but it didn’t feel arrogant, nor malicious. 

     “Yeah, if I don’t pound yours, first,” the strawberry-haired girl smirked, extending a hand to shake, which Ashido promptly met with a laugh and a fistbump. 

     “I think we’re gonna get along great!”

     “Who’re you up against, Tsukino?”

     “Kaminari,” he replied absently, searching the crowd as he tried to remember who his opponent was. 

     “Ah, that’d be that guy!” Ashido declared helpfully, thrusting a finger towards the blond kid with the electric quirk chatting eagerly with the guy with shaggy black hair and oversized elbows.

     “Oof,” Itsuka frowned. “You think you can beat him?”

     “That depends.”

     “On what?”

     “On whether or not he takes me seriously,” Tsukino shrugged. “Um, Ashido-san, right?”

     “That’s me!”

     “Do you know who Uraraka is?”

     “That’d be her!” the pinkette replied cheerfully, pointing to another girl with a brown bob. She’d been the one with the anti-gravity quirk, right? “Why d’you ask?” Ashido asked, quirking an eyebrow at him, her golden eyes alight as though hoping for good gossip. (Actually, that’s probably exactly what she was hoping for. There was a gossip in every class.)

     “Oh, just because if we both win, I’m up against her next,” Tsukino explained, nodding towards the bracket in question. “I guess that means I’m gonna have to watch her match before I head down to the prep room.”

     “Ah, I guess that makes sense,” Ashido acknowledged, nodding. “Well anyways, I’ll see you in the arena, Kendo!”

     The break seemed to fly by. Itsuka decided not to participate in the side games since she needed to preserve her stamina for the tournament, but it was really fun to watch Tsunotori grab Monoma's arm and drag him to the stage when she needed to find a 'perverse person' for the scavenger hunt, ignoring all his attempts to insist that she must have misunderstood the word and insult her foreign background. Before they knew it, Itsuka and her two friends were making their way into the stands, ready to cheer Shiozaki on. (Itsuka noticed that Tsukino had brought his cloth-wrapped support item with him, but when she glanced questioningly at him, he just smiled and shook his head.)

     “Alright sports fans, are you ready?!?” Present Mic howled over the PA system, echoing the tensely excited mood.

     “Quiet down; you’re giving me a headache,” a second voice droned. The grumpy teacher from Class 1-A, right? Itsuka had almost forgotten that he was commentating, too.

     “Our competitors are all on their own now! Sometimes, heroes only have themselves to rely on! Heart! Wisdom! Strength! Courage! Our students will have to use all of these things to rise to the top! Alright, everyone! Let’s cut to the good stuff and not delay these finals any longer!! Welcome our first fighters!”

     “Even beautiful flowers of thorns! It’s the assassin from Class 1-B, Shiozaki Ibara! Versus who I’m personally rooting for-”

     “Quit showing favoritism, Mic.”

     “-from Class 1-A, it’s Uraraka Ochaco!!”

     “Excuse me!” Shiozaki called cautiously, “I’m not sure why you called me an ‘assassin’. I’ve come to the Festival in search of victory, not to take my opponent’s life! That wouldn’t be in line with the values of a hero at all, sir!”

     “Shiozaki, you’re taking this way too literally,” Itsuka groaned as Present Mic apologized. Uraraka didn’t seem bothered by the interruption, though. She just took the extra time to size up her opponent, her eyes narrowed in concentration. 

      “First match! Ready? Begin!”

     Uraraka instantly charged forward, keeping her center of gravity low to the ground, rapidly closing the distance between herself and Shiozaki. After a moment of surprise at the aggressive maneuver, Shiozaki turned away, allowing her vines a chance to thrust themselves into the ground, creating a shield that continued to burrow underground, cracking the cement and rushing towards her opponent. Uraraka, for her part, leaped away from the path of the vines, continuing inexorably forward as she snatched some of the broken rubble from the ground, a faint pink light flickering around her fingers as she went. She threw those pieces of rubble towards Shiozaki, forcing the other girl to dodge out of the way, remaining behind her shield and sending more vines in Uraraka’s direction, which she continued to dodge, grabbing bigger pieces of cement as they continued to break from the ground to use as projectiles. 

     “She’s keeping Shiozaki-kun blind while closing the distance,” Tsukino realized.

     “Why would she do that?” Tetsutetsu asked in between screaming encouragement to their classmate.

     “Her quirk is touch-based,” Itsuka murmured, “but Shiozaki’s is more long-range.”

     “Exactly. That’s why she has to keep her from realizing how close she’s gotten,” Tsukino nodded.

     “So what?! Shiozaki can just trap her in the vines once she gets close!”

     “She’s gotta have some kind of plan,” Itsuka muttered. “Nobody who fights like this wouldn’t.”

     “Guess we’ll just have to wait and find-”

     A crowd-wide scream of excitement cut her friend off as Uraraka suddenly leaped forward with unusual speed, rapidly closing the distance between herself and Shiozaki and landing a surprisingly powerful punch to the side of their classmate’s head, dazing her. Without missing a beat, Uraraka seized Shiozaki by the arm, braced herself against the vines, and flung her towards the edge of the ring--where, Itsuka only now noticed, the brunette had slowly been driving her with her relentless charges.

      “Shiozaki has been thrown out of bounds! Uraraka wins!”

     Screams of excitement and--at least in Tetsutetsu’s case--disappointment ran throughout the stadium. Tsukino quietly excused himself to run down to the entrance of the arena while Uraraka straightened up, looking slightly pale in the face even as she hurried to where Shiozaki was still quite literally hovering in the out-of-bounds area. 

     “Here, let me help!” she called, reaching a hand towards their classmate. After a moment of surprise, the slightly-dazed girl extended a tendril of vines towards Uraraka, allowing the shorter girl to pull her a more reasonable distance to the ground before releasing her quirk. Itsuka couldn’t hear the rest of their conversation, but it was at least clear that Shiozaki was not in the best shape. 

     Uraraka ended up helping her limp to Recovery Girl’s office while Cementoss-sensei stepped forward to fix the ring.

      "Moving on to the second match of the first round, on one side of the field we have Tsukino Aito, the first quirkless student in the Hero Course in the history of UA and the darkhorse frontrunner of the first two events!! Versus another electric hero in the making! Kaminari Denki!!”

     The crowd went nuts as Itsuka’s dark-haired friend stepped out of the tunnel. She knew that it was in part due to the controversy. Tsukino had done extremely well in the first two rounds of the festival, but now this was a one-on-one fight. He had no one to hide behind, no one to help him, no unexpected circumstances to use to his advantage. It was just him, his opponent, and the… cane?... that he’d apparently brought as his support item. 

     “What do you think it is?” Tetsutetsu asked softly--for him, at least--as the countdown began.

     “Dunno. It’s too short to be a quarterstaff. Guess we’ll find out.”

      “Ready?!” Midnight-sensei called raising her whip. “Begin!!”

    Electricity immediately began to build around the grinning Kaminari. “Look man, I respect you for getting this far,” he smirked, “but I'mma have to end this quick! Indiscriminate Shock! 1.3 Million Volts!” 

     Tsukino was already moving, seizing the end of his cane with his other hand and yanking it off to reveal a long strip of gleaming metal.

     "Holy shit is that a sword?!" 

     Kaminari released his attack at the same moment that Tsukino slammed his sword point first into the ground. 

     "What the hell is he thinking?!" Tetsutetsu cried, gripping the edge of the balcony as he leaned closer.

     "He's using the sword as a grounding rod!" Itsuka realized as the electricity started to dissipate, revealing a panting but still-conscious Tsukino and a dazed Kaminari, grinning foolishly and presenting the world with a double thumbs up. Tsukino rushed forward, switching his grip on his sword and slamming the hilt into Kaminari's stomach, causing him to double over with a muffled cry of pain, stumbling towards the out-of-bounds line. At that, Itsuka's friend dropped his sword completely, seized the blonde's arm, and flipped him out of the ring.

     The buzzer went off and Midnight-sensei's voice announced the completion of the round. Itsuka whooped with delight; the entire bout was over in less than two minutes. Tsukino walked back onto the field to collect his 'support item', sheathing it in the polished wooden cane before flashing a beaming smile up at her and Tetsutetsu. They waved back, grinning, then settled back to watch the next match-up head towards the stage while Present Mic screamed about how it had been decided in an instant. 

     A match to 1-A and now a match to 1-B. Curious about how Class 1-A might be handling the loss, Itsuka peeked over the wall dividing their two classes. Most of the class was chattering cheerfully, apparently unbothered by the blond kid’s defeat. A few were even laughing about it, namely that black-haired kid he’d been talking to before the fight and Kirishima, who was seated next to him. The only person who really seemed bothered was a purple-haired girl with her face pressed into her hands.

     "Damn it, Pikachu," she mumbled, glaring as the boy was placed on a stretcher and carried off the field. "I told you not to underestimate him! That was just embarrassing!"

     "Serves the idiot right," Bakugou snorted on her other side, smirking openly. 

     “Aw, did I miss it?” a disappointed voice called as Uraraka appeared at the top of the stairs. 

     “Unfortunately, yes,” a dark-haired boy in glasses replied. “It was quite an impressive match! Tsukino, the quirkless student, apparently fights using a sword! With a significant degree of skill, I might add!”

     “You’re gonna have to watch out for that when you fight him,” a purple-haired kid next to him hummed thoughtfully. Itsuka didn’t remember seeing him in the obstacle course, so he must have been one of the students that dropped out. Itsuka wondered what his quirk might be as she sat back down next to Tetsutetsu.

      “We’re gonna charge right along to the third match! Let’s hope that gaudy belt suits some sort of purpose! It’s Aoyama Yuuga from the Hero Course! Versus a fully equipped gadget dynamo! The Support Course’s Hatsume Mei!”

     Hatsume entered the pitch covered from head to toe in gleaming silver support gear, even beyond the supplies that she’d shown Itsuka and the rest of their team for the Cavalry Battle. From the other side came the 1-A kid with the wavy blond hair and gaudy belt. It seemed to be some sort of support item, so Itsuka was curious to see how their gear matched up. 

     As it turned out, very poorly. Not that Aoyama seemed to care.

     “This is just embarrassing,” Tetsutetsu growled next to her, his fists clenching. He looked slightly green in irritation. 

     Itsuka just stared, a mixture of hysterical amusement and overwhelming embarrassment churning in her stomach as she watched Aoyama twirl in the center of the stage, firing off lasers at Hatsume’s delighted command and allowing her to show off the evasion capabilities of her hydraulic bracers. The strawberry-haired girl didn’t have the faintest idea how her former teammate had managed to create some kind of gear capable of remotely hacking into the PA system, but she couldn’t deny that she was mildly impressed, even if this really wasn’t the time nor the place to be advertising herself to this degree. A glance around the stadium suggested that most if not all of the pro heroes agreed with her, although the areas of the stands reserved for support companies were buzzing more than ever.

     “Suddenly, I’m kind of glad the Festival isn’t broadcasted this year,” Tsukino admitted next to her, where he’d returned a few minutes into the fight (Honestly, that had been a welcome distraction from the match, while everyone inundated him with questions about his sword skills and how long he’d been training and why hadn’t he mentioned it before and how he’d gotten the administration to let him bring something so dangerous as his ‘support item’; he’d just smiled and said he would explain later).

     “Why’s that?”

     “Because Kira doesn’t need any more ideas.”

     Itsuka snorted at that. “She built your dad’s motorcycle basically from scratch, right?”

     “Yep. And she’s been spending the last few weeks designing me a pair of escrima sticks with built-in tasers.”

     “How old is she again?”

     “Nine.”

     “Ugh, it’s been seven minutes already!!” Tetsutetsu groused. “When can this end so that I can go punch that red-haired bastard across the arena?!”

     “How do you think 1-A’s handling their fellow classmate acting like this?” Tsukino wondered out loud.

     Itsuka glanced towards the divider. She couldn’t deny that she was curious. And anyway, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could just watch Aoyama making a fool of himself. So she stood up, peeking curiously over the barrier.

     The first thing that she saw was Kaminari burying his face into his hands, looking about fit to die of embarrassment. “Of all the people who could wind up in some kind of support gear commercial, why did it have to be the one guy in the Hero Course that would just go with it? And why does the guy have to be in our class?”

     “Like you have any room to talk, Drooly,” Bakugou rolled his eyes, but judging by the occasional sparks bursting from his hands, he was about ready to murder their classmate himself. 

     “Hey, that's not fair! That quirkless kid was tough!”

     “He’s not saying that ‘cause the quirkless kid beat you,” Kirishima smirked on Bakugou’s other side. “He’s saying that ‘cause you didn’t put up much of a fight.”

     “Ugh, okay I get it, I acted like an idiot; can we please move on now?” Kaminari groaned. 

     “Sure, man.”

     “For now.”

     Itsuka snickered as the group continued to bicker, sometimes playfully and sometimes with a little more heat, then turned her attention to some of the other little cliques in the class.

     “You know in some ways, it’s not a bad strategy,” Uraraka was saying thoughtfully. “It does showcase Aoyama’s ability to improvise in an unusual situation, and he’s still able to show off the range and power of his quirk.”

     “I suppose that is true,” the glasses boy mused, his hands chopping at the air around them, “in which case I suppose I must commend Aoyama on making the best of such an unfortunate situation!”

     A triangle-headed boy next to her began gesticulating rapidly, his head cocked slightly to one side. “He wants to know if you think they planned it from the start,” the indigo-haired boy with them translated in a weary voice.

     “I doubt it,” Uraraka snorted, “but Hatsume’s certainly taking full advantage of Aoyama’s attention-seeking tendency.”

     Thankfully, the match ended not long after that, when Hatsume finished her little ‘commercial’ and stepped out of the ring, ostensibly forfeiting to Aoyama. 

     “Freaking finally!!” Tetsutetsu growled, getting to his feet--he had been about ready to blow a fuse in frustration. “I’ll see you guys after I beat this next bastard!”

     “Good luck!” Tuskino called cheerfully, waving as he headed towards the arena.

     “The fourth match includes two completely redundant quirks! On one hand we have the passionate, manly fighter made of steel! Class 1-B’s Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu! Versus a passionate, manly fighter made of rock! Give it up for Class 1-A’s Kirishima Eijirou!”

     Tsukino snorted. “Even their intros are the same. I’ll bet Tetsu’s pissed.”

     Itsuka just cheered their friend on.

     The ‘identical twin’ trope continued throughout their fight. Kirishima and Tetsutetsu matched each other blow for blow, howling in frustration when neither of them could seem to gain the upper hand. Neither of them were much for using their feet, instead opting for a literal full-on fist fight, trading uppercuts, hooks, and jabs in equal measure. Heck, they even dodged (or failed to dodge) strikes in practically the same way. So, it wasn’t really a surprise to anyone when it turned out that the two brawlers also had the exact same amount of stamina.

     “It’s a draw!” Midnight-sensei called as both boys collapsed at the same time, obviously unconscious. “When Kirishima and Tetsutetsu awaken, we will have a neutral contest to determine who will move on to the next round! Perhaps arm-wrestling…”

     Whatever the logistics turned out to be, it was obvious as the students were carried off the field that both Kirishima and Tetsutetsu had made a good impression on everyone, both with their passion and their tenacity. Itsuka chuckled as she heard the pros chattering about it, rising to her feet. 

     “I think I’m gonna check on Tetsutetsu. You coming?” she asked Tsukino as she stretched, but the boy shook his head. 

     “Next match is Bakugou-san. I wanna see his fight.”

     “That’s fair. Take notes for us, okay?”

     “You bet!”

     Itsuka waved as she made her way out of the stands, skirting past Shiozaki, who had just made it back. The vine-haired girl smiled briefly at her questioning look, her expression unruffled and content. Itsuka grinned briefly in turn and hurried on her way. She was glad that Uraraka had taken the time to help her classmate out a bit; it really was considerate of her. She would have gone herself, but she hadn’t wanted to risk missing Tsukino’s match. But now the next two matches were composed entirely of 1-A kids, so she could take a quick break to check on Tetsutetsu. 

     “Oh! Kendo, right?”

     Itsuka glanced back, a little bit surprised, towards the pink-skinned girl skipping down the hall towards her. “Oh, hey. It’s Ashido, isn’t it?”

     “That’s me!” she grinned brightly, falling into step beside her. “Going to see your buddy, too?”

     “Yeah,” the strawberry-haired girl smiled in turn. “Don’t you want to watch your friends’ match, though?”

     “Eh, I already know how it’s gonna end,” Ashido shrugged. “Sero’s gonna put up a good fight, but Blasty did promise to cream ’im, so that’s what’s gonna happen. And anyway, Kiri and I have a pact. Us Horn Buddies have to stick together, you know?”

     “Horn Buddies?”

     “Long story,” Ashido laughed, pulling open the door marked ‘Infirmary’, “but basically, it’s my job to remind him when he’s being a hard-headed idiot!”

     Itsuka snorted, but quickly bit the sound off as she heard Recovery Girl grumbling not-quite under her breath as the two of them entered.

     “Damn kids pushing themselves too hard and ripping themselves to shreds,” she muttered in her scratchy voice, the sound complemented by the too-forceful scratching of her pen on the report she was writing.

     “Um, is this a good time?” Itsuka asked cautiously, exchanging glances with her new friend.

     “Hm? Yes, yes, it’s fine, just keep your voices down; there are people recovering,” the irritable doctor sighed, waving for them to proceed. Itsuka nodded her thanks, then slipped further in to claim a chair next to Tetsutetsu, while Ashido plopped down directly on the edge of Kirishima’s bed. They were still definitely unconscious, so the strawberry-haired girl took a moment to glance towards the video screen displaying the tournament. The video had been muted, but it appeared that there were still closed captions, declaring, ‘at the expense of some really creepy looking elbows. From the Hero Course, it’s Sero Hanta. Versus the hotshot with the determined face. From the Hero Course, Bakugou Katsuki.’

     “It’s kinda weird to look at the words without hearing Mic-sensei’s voice, right?” Ashido frowned, and Itsuka nodded.

     “Seems like there should at least be a few exclamation points here and there. Anyway, what exactly are your friends’ quirks again?”

     “Oh, Sero can shoot tape out of his elbows and Blasty has explody sweat that he can blow up whenever he wants,” the other girl grinned. “It oughta be quite a show!”

     The fight was just getting underway, Sero trying a preemptive attack with his tape and Bakugou managing an impressive dodge with a well-timed explosion, when Tetsutetsu’s low groan, soon mimicked by Kirishima’s, pulled them both away from the television. Her friend’s dark eyes met her turquoise ones in a little bit of a daze, blinking through a concussion as he tried to focus on anything in particular. 

     “Kendo?” he mumbled blearily. 

     Itsuka grinned at him, tuning out a similarly-opened conversation between Kirishima and Ashido. “That’s me.” 

     “Did I win?”

     “Not quite, but Midnight-sensei called it a tie, so you’ll have another shot.”

     “Dammit,” her friend grumbled, reaching up to his bruised face. “I wanted to beat that guy. And my head hurts.”

     “As well it should!” Recovery Girl scolded, glowering at him and Kirishima alike. “You’re both covered in bruises, you both have concussions; you literally knocked each other out! Honestly, if you’re going to rely on your fists to fight, then you need to at least learn how to dodge! I don’t care if both of you have hardening quirks; that can’t always protect you from injury, understand?!”

     “Yes ma’am,” Tetsutetsu and Kirishima mumbled in sullen unison. 

     Recovery Girl huffed and pecked them both on the cheek. “Just get some rest. Whenever the two of you wake back up, you can head to the stands until you’re called down for your tiebreaker.”

     Ashido and Itsuka both snickered as their respective best friends conked out seconds later, both snoring softly. “Well, I guess they both deserved that,” the pinkette snickered, glancing up towards the screen. She promptly winced a moment later. “Yeah, I coulda seen that coming,” she muttered. 

     Itsuka followed her gaze, eyes widening at the sight of a body getting flung across the pitch, trailing a plume of black smoke. Sero--the body in question--did his best to correct his trajectory with his tape, but Bakugou had seen the move coming, using another set of rapid explosions to propel himself forward and disintegrate the lifeline before his opponent could complete the movement. Sero seemed to squawk, open-mouthed as he made another desperate bid to stay in-bounds, but suddenly Bakugou was in front of him, flying through the air and roundhouse-kicking him into the stands.

     “Um. Ouch?” Itsuka offered, wincing as the blond boy was announced as the winner.

     “And there’s another one that I’m going to have to drag down here,” Recovery Girl groaned, echoing her thoughts.

     “Ah, he’ll be fine,” Ashido waved their concern away. “Bakugou would never hit hard enough to actually hurt anybody.”

     “Mm,” Itsuka hummed. Somehow she doubted that, but whatever. “Anyway, the next two fighters are from your class too, right?”

     “Iida and Todoroki,” Ashido nodded. 

     “The ice guy?”

     “Yep,” her companion replied, popping the ‘p’. “My money's on Todoroki on this one. The guy's a powerhouse. Iida’s fast, and he’s a decent fighter, but nobody can quite match Todoroki. ‘Cept for maybe Blasty. Maybe.”

     “I’d bet on Bakugou over Todoroki any day.”

     “Sero!” Ashido squealed, running over to the stretcher entering the room and--in spite of his low groan of pain and Recovery Girl’s hiss that the boy likely had a broken rib or two--throwing her arms around the decidedly lurpy-looking boy propping himself up on it.

     “They sure got you down here fast,” Itsuka commented. “It’s only been, like, two minutes.”

     “Huh? Oh, I’ll bet it’s just the TV lag,” Sero grimaced as he was helped to a cot. “The match actually ended a good five minutes ago.”

     “Huh. In that case, your classmates will probably be starting in just a minute here. Anyway, that was a good fight. Pretty brutal, though.”

     “Eh, it’s fine. It’s just Bakugou’s way of showing respect, you know? He goes all-out ‘cause he knows we can handle it.”

     “Exactly!” Ashido cheered. 

     “That… does sound like something he would do. You know, from what little I’ve seen of him.” 

     “Oh look, Iida!”

      “He’s the kid with engines in his legs,” the screen soon announced as the tall boy with glasses and dark hair stepped into the ring following its reconstruction. “Iida Tenya from the hero course. Versus an early frontrunner in the competition who’s way too strong for his own good. Someone who rightfully got into the Hero Course based on recommendations. It’s Todoroki Shouto.”

     “Uh, does that kid just have a really bad case of resting bitch face syndrome, or-?” Itsuka began, only to be cut off by a rumbling BOOM and CRACK!!! that shook the entire stadium.

     “Are we having an earthquake?!” Recovery Girl squawked, eyes wide. That would be the same direction the strawberry-haired girl’s mind went, except for the fact that the world went still just as quickly as it had started shaking. 

     “Um, okay, what was that?” Ashido asked with wide, black-and-gold eyes.

     “Holy shit,” was the only verbal response Sero, or anyone else, gave as he pointed wordlessly to the TV screen, which had just caught up with the events outside.

     The entire arena had been transformed into a veritable glacier, extending from Todoroki’s right leg and rapidly expanding outwards, trapping a shocked Iida in the middle of it. Shortly thereafter, Todoroki was declared the winner--as if there was any doubt with his opponent trapped in an icy prison. 

      “Shit,” Sero hissed again, looking as though he was seriously rethinking the odds for his 'Todoroki versus Bakugou' bet. “I knew that Todoroki was strong, but I thought Iida would be fast enough to outrun him. I didn’t expect… that.”

     “I suppose it might have been a calculated gesture,” Itsuka managed weakly. “You know, taking Iida’s speed into account and preemptively stopping him in his tracks.”

     “Good thought, but this feels a little overkill even for him,” Ashido squeaked back.

     “Well. Um. I… guess it’s already our turn to head to the stadium, then?” 

     “Yeah. Yeah, I guess,” her opponent nodded, her bright pink cheeks unusually pale, eyes still fixated on the screen. Then, in a softer voice, “Jesus, Todoroki, what is your deal?”

     “Let’s hope we don’t have to find out, considering he’s up against Bakugou next.”

     “Ah geez,” the other girl winced, following her out the door. “I’m not sure which of them would be worse to fight, actually. The pissy guy that can turn you into an ice cube or the pissy guy that can blast you into oblivion.”

     The two of them split up a short while later, and before she knew it Itsuka was waiting to head to the pitch, tuning out Present Mic’s excited commentary while she focused on calming her breathing and heartbeat. By the time she was given her cue, the hero-in-training was as ready as she’d ever be.

     “Up next, we have the mistress of martial arts, it’s Kendo Itsuka from Class 1-B! Versus--is there some sort of purpose for those things sticking out of her head?--from Class 1-A, Ashido Mina!!” 

     The crowd roared around them, but it didn’t matter. Itsuka was preparing for battle. Everything extraneous to that plain fact simply melted away. On the other end of the arena, Ashido was bouncing lightly from one foot to the other, her golden eyes bright and energetic, but not unfocused. The pinkette might be a little ADHD, but she was not incompetent. 

     The moment Midnight-sensei called for them to start, Itsuka rushed forward, eyes fixated on her opponent. Ashido set off almost immediately as well, but something was a little off. Her pink-skinned opponent wasn’t running. She was skating, acid pouring from the soles of her shoes and melting portions of the concrete to increase her speed and mobility. 

     That might be a problem. She needed to gauge the other girl’s capabilities before she could risk showing her hand. Literally.

     The moment Ashido was in range, Itsuka’s fist shot forward. She didn’t expand it, not yet, but she needed to see how her opponent would react. Ashido instantly dropped below the girl’s attack, spinning on her stream of acid to whirl behind her. On instinct, Itsuka threw herself into a forward somersault, darting out of the acid-user’s attack radius and rolling neatly to her feet. She knew that she had made the right call when she pivoted back towards her opponent, sliding into a stance just in time to see Ashido’s legs sweeping back under her, as smoothly as though she were dancing. 

     If Itsuka hadn’t moved when she did, her legs most definitely would have been knocked right out from under her.

     “Hey, you’re pretty good!” Ashido called cheerfully, bouncing on the balls of her feet once again. 

     “You’re not so bad yourself,” the strawberry-haired girl called back, smiling to herself. “Ready for round two?” 

     “Are you?” Ashido grinned even as she darted forward again, zipping in on her acid and mimicking Itsuka’s own earlier jab, aiming for her throat. The martial artist quickly deflected the strike, biting back a hiss as a sharp pain flashed across the back of her wrist. She darted back, glancing downward to assess the damage, and saw that her skin had grown red and inflamed where it had made contact with the other girl’s. 

     So she didn’t just secrete acid from her feet, and she could change its composition depending on where it was being produced from. If she had used the same kind of acid on Itsuka’s skin as she had on the concrete, it probably would’ve eaten all the way through to the bone. Either way, the pinkette was coming at her again, golden eyes gleaming and grin turning fierce and determined as she aimed a sucker punch towards Itsuka’s ribs. A quick strike with her palm deflected that hit, too, but it also turned her palm the same shade of inflamed red as her wrist.

     Itsuka grit her teeth against the pain.

     She needed a way to end this quickly. 

     The strawberry-haired girl skipped backwards, trying to force some distance between herself and her opponent, but Ashido wasn’t keen on letting her give herself room, using her skating technique to weaken the concrete and zip forward once more. 

      Weaken the concrete. 

     Hm… 

     Time to capitalize on the element of surprise. 

     The next punch she threw, Itsuka expanded her fist. Ashido yelped in shock, trying to spin away but still catching the hit on her shoulder, sending her stumbling, her stance momentarily broken. Itsuka’s eyes widened slightly at that. Her opponent obviously didn’t have as much formal martial arts training, so she wasn’t able to recover as quickly as Itsuka could from unexpected attacks.

     That meant this plan of hers might just work. 

     Clasping her hands together, the young martial artist expanded both hands and brought them down with a snarl and a grunt on the weakened patches of ground that Ashido had created, shattering the concrete into jagged pieces of stone. She seized the closest one, wrenching it from her ground and gritting her teeth against the pain as it scraped across the irritated skin of her hand and flinging it towards Ashido, not unlike Uraraka had done in her fight against Shiozaki.

     Again, Ashido yelped, waving a hand towards the basketball-sized chunk of concrete and flinging a film of acid towards it in the process even as she darted back. The acid wasn’t quite enough to fully melt the chunk of rock, but it did reduce it in size, as well as slow its momentum so that the pinkette had an easier time dodging it. Of course, by that time, Itsuka had managed to gather up several more chunks of rock--one hand to hold them and the other to throw--to fling at her while sprinting forward. 

     Quite suddenly their roles were reversed, Itsuka attacking in a relentless barrage while her opponent was being forced back, but her speed made it difficult to corner the other girl. As much as she tried to force Ashido towards the out-of-bounds line, the acid-user always managed to pirouette her way out of a corner, moving back towards the center of the pitch where she had plenty of room to maneuver. It was frustrating, but Itsuka did her best to push that frustration away; this was no time to get emotional.

     Eventually, the young martial artist ran out of rocks. She quickly moved to smash the concrete once again--most of the surface had been affected by Ashido’s acid at this point--but it seemed this had been the exact moment that the pinkette was waiting for, because suddenly a puddle of acid hit the ground right next to Itsuka’s shoes, forcing her to stumble back, the edge of the material hissing as it burned away. Ashido didn’t let up on her attack, skating forward and sending wave after wave of acid splashing towards Itsuka’s feet, but keeping enough distance that she couldn’t be reached even if she did enlarge her hands. 

     Before she knew it, Itsuka had been forced to the edge of the arena, surrounded on all sides by mushy, acidy concrete with the soles of her shoes starting to fall off from the constant splatters of acid eating away at them. The strawberry-haired girl gasped when Ashido was suddenly in front of her, sliding instinctively into a fighting stance and in the process stepping into a puddle of some of the more potent acid.

     Her cry of pain was cut off by Ashido’s uppercut, which sent her flying out of the ring, landing hard on her back and knocking the wind out of her. Still, she felt herself gasping, desperately fighting to draw attention to her alarm as she kicked weakly at her damaged shoe and the cold-burning sensation beginning to reach her foot.

     “Ah, shit! Shit!” a voice hissed hurriedly, and Itsuka suddenly became aware of a pair of hands seizing her pant leg and the heel of her shoe and ripping it off along with her sock, flinging the both of them away. “Midnight-sensei, does anybody have a water bottle, or a water quirk or something?! Also, we’re gonna need a stretcher; she shouldn’t walk on this!”

     Itsuka couldn’t hear a response; she was too busy focusing on calming herself down so that she would be able to breathe. Still, she sighed in relief when she felt something cool trickling over her foot, leaning her head back as she managed to take her first breath. Then another, and another. 

     “…probably get her hands, too.”

     “That was some quick-thinking, kid,” someone was saying when she was a little bit more aware of her surroundings, “but you do need to be a little more cautious with a quirk like yours. You could cause a lot of damage if you’re not careful.”

     “Yeah I know, I just got caught up in the moment, and… Shit, I am so sorry, Kendo,” that voice from earlier groaned. “I didn’t even think about what might happen if your shoes got destroyed; that was so stupid of me!” 

     Itsuka opened her eyes to see Ashido kneeling beside her, wringing her hands under a spray of water produced from the hand of a hero that had obviously been attending the Festival, her gold-and-black eyes wide and worried. The man’s other hand was pointed towards her own left foot, and was probably the source of the refreshing coolness taking the edge off of the painful bite in that general region of her body. She vaguely recognized him as a sidekick from an agency in Shinjuku. What was his name again?

     “It… It’s okay,” she managed, remembering that Ashido had just given her an apology. “How… How bad is it?”

     “Not bad,” the water quirk hero assured her, his sea green eyes gentle and reassuring as he helped her sit up, taking her inflamed wrist and hand and gently pouring water over those, too. “Your friend here managed to get your shoe off before the acid could bite through more than the first couple layers of your skin, then got a few people to throw her their water bottles to dump over your foot even before I got down here. The wound is nothing that Recovery Girl can’t heal, although it will leave a pretty wide scar.”

     Itsuka chuckled weakly, relieved to hear that there shouldn’t be any permanent nerve damage. “That’s fine. What kind of battle hero would I be without a cool-looking scar or two?”

     Ashido managed to giggle at that, looking relieved herself as she glanced towards the pair of medical robots droning towards them with a stretcher. “Well, I guess I should go shower then,” she said finally, rising to her feet and stepping away. “I don’t want anyone giving me a victory hug while I still have acid on my skin, y’know?”

     There was something sad in her voice as she said it, something dark and uncomfortable in her eyes, and suddenly Itsuka found herself wondering how many times Ashido must have accidentally hurt people to know right away that the best treatment for an acid burn was running water, and how many times she must have been judged or rejected for it. 

     “Hey, Ashido!” she called after the other girl as the water hero helped her to her feet--Pressure Wash, maybe? That seemed right. 

     “Yeah?” her fellow hero-in-training replied, glancing back uncertainly, her arms slightly held out from her sides, probably to avoid accidentally burning through her clothes. 

     “That was an awesome fight. You earned that win.”

     The pinkette’s eyes seemed to widen for a moment before she smiled, the fear hovering in them draining away in an instant. “You did great too, Kendo. And call me Mina. I don’t like being formal with my friends.”

     There was an invitation there--one that the strawberry-haired girl was happy to accept. “Then call me Itsuka, ‘kay?”

     “Sure thing! I’ll see you later, Itsuka!” Mina grinned, waving with all of her old cheer before she practically skipped away. 

     “Way to be sportsmanlike,” Pressure Wash smiled as she settled down on the stretcher, carefully keeping her injured foot off the ground.

     “Well, I didn’t come to UA to make enemies, you know?”

     “That’s a mature way to look at it,” the man laughed back. “If you really are interested in being a battle hero, you might consider my boss Goliath’s agency for your internship. We’d be happy to have you.”

     “I’ll bear it in mind!”   

     Cementoss was still repairing the ring after the damage she and Ashido did to it when Itsuka arrived at the infirmary. Both Tetsutetsu and Tsukino were waiting for her there, looking anxious and eager by turns. 

     “What did that pink-skinned b-”

     “Tetsu!”

     “-do to you?!” Tetsutetsu half-yelled, half-screeched the moment she came into view. 

     “Keep your voice down; this is a hospital!” Recovery Girl’s voice snapped from inside the office.

     “Her name is Mina and she actually saved my foot,” Itsuka sighed back, accepting a hug from her other friend before the bots carried her inside. 

     “I wondered when I saw her grab your shoe,” the dark-haired boy admitted, following, “but you know Tetsu. The guy was beside himself.”

     “Hey, you try keeping calm after you’ve just heard one of your best friends almost start screaming!”

     “I did keep calm after one of my best friends started screaming.”

      “That’s not the point-!”

     “I said quiet!”  

     Tetsutetsu cringed as Recovery Girl’s cane beaned him over the head, the woman herself visibly fuming. “Out, both of you! You have your tiebreaker in a moment, and you’re the first match of the second round, so out! Out!”

     “We’ll see you later, Kendo!”

     “Bye, guys!”

     Recovery Girl released a deep sigh, leaning against the door she had just slammed shut for a moment before she hobbled back to her newest patient’s side. “Acid burns, correct?” she mused, gently taking her injured foot and turning it back and forth to assess the damage. Itsuka winced slightly at the spike of pain that broke through the dull throbbing the limb had settled into. 

     “Yeah. Mina and Pressure Wash poured water over it and my hands the moment they got my shoe off. As far as I know, that was the only treatment they used on it.”

     “Wise of them,” Recovery Girl nodded, gently lowering the limb and taking her damaged hands. “Ashido was right to act quickly. If your shoe had been left on any longer, there might have been nerve damage. As it is, the scarring will extend from the end of your foot up to your ankle.”

     “Like I said before, what’s a battle hero without a few scars?”

     “Don’t you start getting flippant on me about injuries, young lady! I don’t need any more recklessness than I already have to deal with on a daily basis, understand?”
    “Yes ma’am,” Itsuka murmured meekly. 

     “Good,” the aged doctor huffed. “Well, Ashido and Pressure Wash already performed what basic first aid I would be able to do here, so I’ll use my quirk on you and let you heal on your own. You’ll probably doze off for a few minutes, during which time I’ll wrap your injuries since they’ll still be a bit tender. After you wake up, you’ll be free to go back to the stands.”

     “Thank you, sensei,” Itsuka murmured as Recovery Girl pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. A wave of drowsiness swept through the girl as her hands and foot seemed to tingle, not unpleasantly. Deciding not to fight it, she settled back against the pillow and closed her eyes.

Outtake:

     “Hey Tenya-kun, you finally made it back!”

     Tenya managed a weak smile as his friends all spun towards him, Uraraka sporting a sympathetic smile, Asui tilting her head towards him, Kouda signing frantically, and even Shinsou watching him in his own, quietly concerned way.

     “What kept you?” Asui asked softly, bringing her finger to her chin. “Todoroki didn’t injure you that badly, did he?”

     “No, he didn’t,” Tenya sighed wearily, reclaiming his seat on Uraraka’s other side, “but Recovery Girl-sensei sent me to Power Loader-sensei to ensure that Todoroki didn’t accidentally cause any sort of damage to my engines. We’ve been spending the last twenty minutes or so running diagnostics.”

     He decided not to mention that he’d also attempted to call his brother, feeling frustrated by the outcome of the match and wanting to talk it over with him. But, the call had gone straight to voicemail, as it only ever did when he was on a mission and couldn’t talk.

     “Makes sense,” Shinsou nodded. “If you’re walking, I guess you’re good.”

     “Yes, we couldn’t find any problems. I’m cleared to continue training once we reconvene on Monday. Either way, I apologize for being unable to support our classmate for her match.”

     “Ah, no worries,” Uraraka grinned briefly. “Mina-kun did great! The girl from 1-B was really cool, too; I’ve gotta ask her to teach me her moves some time!”

     Shinsou chuckled softly at that, turning back towards the stadium as the next match-up was being called out. “We know; you wouldn’t shut up about it the entire match.”

     “Hey, I apologized for that already!”

     Tenya was distracted from any further conversation when his phone suddenly began to vibrate, subsequently causing his own body to vibrate as well. Blinking in surprise, he reached into his pocket and removed the device, eyes widening as he saw his mother’s name on the Caller ID. “Excuse me, I have to take this,” he murmured, standing and moving towards the hall as he answered the call.

     “Hello, kasan? I’m sorry to tell you this, but-”

     “Tenya! Thank goodness! Where are you; are you alright?”

     “What? I’m absolutely fine, kasan, I’m still at the stadium. What’s wrong?”

     “It… it’s your brother.”

     “Oniisan?!” 

     “A villain… a villain got Tensei. They think it was the Hero Killer.”

     “What!?! How is he doing?! Where are you; I’ll come right away!”

      “His life’s not in danger, but they’re still assessing the potential long-term repercussions of his injury. We’re at Hosu General Hospital, but Tenya, please don’t try to come on your own. I’m sending a car for you, but after everything… I don’t want you to make yourself vulnerable. So please, be patient.”

     “I… I understand, kasan. I’ll be waiting by the main gate.”

      “Thank you, Tenya. The car will be there soon. Just… Just hold on.”

     “You… You too. I’ll see you soon.”

Chapter Text

     The last thing Tensei wanted to be doing was sprinting among the suburbs and alleyways of Hosu City while his younger brother was participating in his first Sports Festival. More than anything, he wanted to be able to cheer him on. He'd even received an invitation to attend, but no, he had to be called out on a last-minute patrol because the Hero Killer Stain was on the loose in the area. 

     Not that he minded working, of course. He loved being able to help people, loved being able to strengthen and serve others. But why did this have to come up today of all days? Couldn't that creep take just one day off?

      “Ingenium, any sign of him?” one of his sidekicks' voices crackled over his earpiece. 

     “Nothing yet,” he replied, turning the corner down another tight street. “I’ll send out an SOS the moment I find anything.”

      “Understood. The other squads are patrolling their respective zones and will also radio for assistance if they come across him.”

     “Roger that. Remind everyone to be on high alert--we’re still not sure exactly what the Hero Killer’s quirk is.”

      “Roger.”

      “Ingenium, this is Squad A! We believe that we’ve spotted the Hero Killer headed towards your sector!”

     “Roger!” Ingenium called back, catching a telephone pole and firing off one of his engines to rapidly change directions towards the sector that Squad A had been searching, simultaneously constructing a mental map of everyone’s positions and availability. “Squad A, head North! Squad B, check the West side!”

      “Squad A, roger!”

     “Squad B, roger!”

     “Squads E and C, start heading towards my sector and be ready to assist!”

      “Squad C, roger!”

     “Squad E, heading your way!”

     Another street. Another set of houses blurring past. Another empty-

      Wait!

     Ingenium skid to a stop, pivoting sharply back the way he’d come and sprinting towards one of the alleys he’d just passed, igniting his engines to give himself an extra strength boost and leap off of a wall, coming at the darkened street from above in the hopes of throwing his quarry off. 

     “I’ve found you, Hero Killer,” the speedster growled as he turned towards the scruffy figure crouched nearby. He had wild, dark hair, a simple mask, blood red scarf, body armor wrapped around his torso, heavy cargo pants, dark boots, and more knives than a single person should be capable of carrying at once.

     “Yes, you’ve found me,” the man sneered, baring his teeth at the pro hero, “but do you really think you can face me alone when your entire agency of fools couldn’t take down a single villain?”

     Ingenium growled softly as he realized what villain the murderer was referring to. Even he would admit to still feeling a sharp sting of failure when he thought about the Bat Villain incident, but he refused to allow himself to be baited. He knew better than anyone that the strength of his agency lay in its teamwork. So, of course, he began to reach for his SOS signal, ready to inform his team that he had found their quarry. 

     But the Hero Killer had other plans. 

     The speedster was forced to dodge as a series of knives flew past his face, narrowly missing the spaces in his helmet for his eyes. In those crucial moments as his focus was torn away from his opponent, he abruptly realized that he had made a critical mistake. 

     Because Stain was standing directly in front of him. 

     Ingenium cried out as a sharp, sudden pain blossomed under his left arm; the Hero Killer had stabbed into his armpit where the joint of his armor was weakest. Then the knife twisted, and Tensei couldn't quite hold back a scream, his vision momentarily blacking out and his knees buckling as the man leaped back, withdrawing the knife and causing hot blood to spray from the wound.  

     Shit!!

     The adrenaline was keeping him from really feeling the full extent of the injury, but the Hero Killer had likely ruptured his axillary artery; if he didn’t get medical attention soon, then he was in severe danger of bleeding-

     “Agh!”

     Ingenium cried out in pain as a massive force seemed to crush down on him from all directions, both inside and out. Suddenly he was on the ground, incapable of moving, barely capable of breathing, and all the while, he could see a pool of blood continuing to expand around him. 

     “What… What did you…?” he gasped as he struggled to obtain enough air even to speak, jaw clenched against the pain.

     “You truly are nothing but a fake hero, trying to call for help when you should be able to face your enemies head-on,” Stain intoned coldly, stepping forward and drawing a katana from his back.

     “You-”

     “I will purge you and your kind from this world.”

     “Wait-” I don't want to die! 

     “May your sacrifice make a stronger society,” Stain’s voice sneered.

      Tenya-!

     A sound, almost like a roar, suddenly echoed down the alleyway, and Tensei felt, rather than saw, Stain’s head snap up and the movement as the man leaped away. An instant later, there was a blaze of heat somewhere behind him and the entire alleyway lit up with a flare of bluish light.

     Tensei’s heart leapt with a mixture of hope and complete confusion. Had one of his squads found them? But… But none of his sidekicks had a quirk that produced such an intense blue glow, and judging by the heat there might be some kind of flame involved which certainly didn’t match any of their quirks, so who-?

     “Well well. What do we have here,” a quiet voice drawled at the other end of the alleyway.

     The downed pro hero felt his breath hitch sharply, even though he wasn't capable of pulling in more than brief, shallow gasps. He tried to turn his head and see the newcomer, tried to warn them about Stain’s ability to paralyze people--it likely had something to do with the blades considering that he hadn’t collapsed until after he’d been stabbed--but he couldn’t move. In fact, every attempt to do so sent sharp pain flashing through his body; he almost blacked out, but forced himself to stay awake through little more than sheer willpower.

     “And who the hell are you?” Stain snarled back.

     “You can call me Phoenix,” the man replied, somehow managing to sound indifferent and threatening all at once, “and I’m the guy who’s gonna send you packing.”

     “C-Careful,” Tensei managed to gasp. “The… blades…”

     “Don’t worry; I know.” The voice was closer than it had been, cold and calm and laser-focused on the enemy before them, the presence it was connected to positioned just behind him as though the stranger was standing protectively over his useless body.

     “What are you, another posturing fake talking big but unable to give substance to their words? Some kind of underground hero perhaps?” Stain sneered, and Tensei could see him rising from his crouch, preparing to defend or attack as the need called for it. 

     Tensei blinked as his vision swam, nausea beginning to coil in his gut. Shit, I’m already going into hemorrhagic shock.      

     “Nah, heroics aren’t my thing. I just don’t particularly like guys that beat the shit out of people to force their stupid-ass ideas on ‘em.”

     “A vigilante then.” 

     Vigilante? From Naruhata? But I… I don’t remember anyone by that name…  

     “I have nothing against your kind as a rule, but if you insist on getting in my way, then I’ll have to cull you as well,” Stain growled warningly.

     “You’re welcome to try it, Stendhal. Or would you prefer Stain? Or perhaps Arbiter of Justice?” Phoenix suggested mockingly, and Stain snarled softly in response. The name Stendhal seemed familiar, but Tensei couldn’t quite bring to mind where he’d heard it before. “Well, ‘by any other name’ and all that. Burnt flesh still smells the same.” 

     “Bold words, brat. Let’s see if you can back them up!” 

     Stain rushed forward, katana at the ready. This time, Tensei could see the intense blue flames that burst to life, rushing outward and filling nearly the entire alleyway in order to drive the Hero Killer back. He heard the murderer’s startled cry somewhere behind the wall of flames, then mentally jumped himself when he saw a hand enter his line of sight. It was a pale hand, worn and calloused and--ironically--stretched with pale red burn scars extending all the way to the tips of the fingers that were producing those vicious blue flames.

     “If you can still talk, I need you to tell me how to activate your comms so you can call for backup. I’ve called a friend, but if he doesn’t make it in time, I don’t think I can hold this bastard off for long on my own.”

     “R… Right side,” Tensei gasped. “Th-There’s a button… by my ear. Press twice. That’s… the SOS.”

     He felt the man shift behind him, his unseen hand quickly--and none too gently--slipping beneath his head and lifting it so that he could reach for the button. He’d barely managed to follow Tensei’s instructions before the fallen pro hero saw a shadow leaping above the wall of flames. 

     “Look out!”

     “Shit!”

     Tensei gasped when he was seized under the arms and literally thrown backwards before another roar of flames flew from his rescuer’s hands, catching Stain’s leg, but unable to stop his momentum so that the vigilante was forced to leap backwards in order to dodge the murderer’s blade. And, through the lightheadedness and confusion of blood loss, Tensei managed to get his first good look at ‘Phoenix’s’ face. 

     He was young. Probably a few years younger than Tensei himself, with black hair and piercing eyes the same shade of blue as his flames, half-hidden by a black mask tied around the upper half of his face. The burn scars that the speedster had seen on the young man’s hand extended up his neck and one side of his face as well. His teeth were grit in concentration as he moved and dodged Stain’s attacks. He was obviously trained, judging both by his precise use of his quirk and the fluidity of his movements, but Stain was well-trained too, fast and strong and dangerous.

      “Ingenium? Ingenium, what’s wrong? Ingenium, do you copy?!”

     Tensei forced himself to breathe, doing everything possible not to hyperventilate. His SOS had been received, but he couldn’t respond. Couldn’t even help fight back. He just had to hope that his allies would reach them in-

     “Gah!”

     Tensei’s eyes widened as he saw a sharp spray of dark blood. Stain had managed to cut Phoenix’s arm. It was a shallow wound, but judging by the way that those manic red eyes seemed to light up in glee as the Hero Killer raised his blade towards his face, it was obviously enough.

      No, no, no-!

     An invisible force suddenly threw Stain backwards, sending him slamming against the wall of the alley with a sharp cry of pain, the knife reflexively lost from his grasp. A moment later, a new set of footfalls entered the alleyway, out of Tensei’s line of sight. 

     “The hell kept you, Wraith?!” Phoenix snapped, glancing backwards and wait, why can he still move if he’s been cut?! The injured pro didn’t hear a reply, but there must have been some kind of response because a moment later the first vigilante groaned and grumbled, “Is this really the time for puns?!” then, “I don’t care if that isn’t what you meant; just hurry up and cut Ingenium’s armor so I can cauterize the wound! He’ll bleed out if we don’t do something!”

     “Oh no, you will not be permitted to- Oof!”

     Another invisible blow sent Stain flying a good twenty meters further down the alleyway. A telekinesis quirk, perhaps? Tensei didn’t really have time to think about it. All that he knew was that a pair of gentle hands were suddenly gripping his shoulder and rolling him over so that he was lying on his back rather than haphazardly on his side. Still, the stranger left his face turned so that he couldn’t get a very clear glimpse of him. All that he was able to make out in his unsteady peripheral vision was a skin-tight body suit and what looked like a black biker’s helmet, albeit more sleek. 

      “Ingenium! Ingenium, if you can hear me, please respond!”

     Tensei groaned as the person lifted his arm away from his side, gasping as he became suddenly more aware of the blood gushing from his wound. How long had it been since he was first stabbed? Two or three minutes, minimum? A person could bleed out in less than five without medical attention; how much more time did he have? 

     Judging by how cold his extremities felt, probably not long.

     He couldn’t see what his current caretaker-- Wraith? --was doing, but he could see the bursts of blue light that indicated Phoenix and Stain had gone back at it at the other end of the alleyway. Then he felt a gentle curl of cool air under his arm before a tight, even painful pressure appeared under it, settled firmly against his wound. A tourniquet? That would make sense for a cut artery but… No… No, something seemed off…  There… The pressure was off. There wasn’t any pressure around his arm, just underneath. Was it… the telekinesis quirk again? Mentally applying some sort of pressure to stop or at least slow down the bleeding? Yeah, that… that could be… 

     Tensei twitched-- twitched; was Stain's paralysis starting to wear off?! --when there was a flicker of movement above him and suddenly the black-clad vigilante was rushing past him, racing down the alley to help Phoenix against Stain. The pressure never left his arm though, so… tourniquet? No, he'd already eliminated that. It was… a quirk…?

     Another round of shouting echoed down the alley, a burst of flame and a snarl of frustration, and then suddenly the pressure on Tensei’s arm vanished, leaving him groaning in pain as his arm pulsed, his heart’s desperate attempts to save him only serving to further push his blood out of his body. 

     That… That was odd, right? Telekinesis… Strong quirk… Could he not reach very far?

      “Ingenium!”

     The edges of his vision were going dark when Tensei heard pounding footsteps and groggily lifted his head to see Phoenix crouched in front of him, his blue eyes grim. “This is gonna hurt like hell, but try not to flail, got it?”

     Ingenium blinked dazedly back at him. He tried to nod, but his body didn't seem to want to respond. Had Stain paralyzed him again? He'd thought… it was wearing off… 

     Phoenix pursed his lips and shifted so that he was pinning the pro hero’s torso down with his legs, one of his hands gripping his right arm. His free hand lit up with blue flames as he reached towards the knife wound. 

     Tensei blinked, staring at the blue light for a few seconds before he realized what was coming and squeezed his eyes shut. 

     Pain exploded through his arm and by extension his entire body as the fire made contact with his skin, sharpening his senses and suddenly sending him flying wide awake again. Even prepared for it as he was, the pro hero couldn’t quite suppress a scream from tearing at his throat, nor keep his body from bucking instinctively against the weight keeping him from escaping the pain. In an effort to keep still, he focused on the sensation of Phoenix’s fingers pinching his wound shut before the heat seared it closed, on the tears streaming from his eyes under his helmet, on the spasming muscle in his clenched jaw, on the acrid scent of burning hair and flesh. 

     Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over, and Tensei felt himself slump with exhaustion even as he gasped desperately for breath, his lungs abruptly free of the paralysis and weight pinning them. His head swam and blackness briefly overtook his sight as he felt his body shift against his will. He was jarred back into consciousness when his back hit something solid, which he realized-- slowly; far too slowly --was a brick wall.

      “Ingenium, we’ve almost reached your location! Hold on, sir; please hold on!”

     The last thing he saw before the darkness rushed back in and overtook him completely was Phoenix’s facial scars, stretched in a small, sad smile before the vigilante turned and sprinted away.

.oOo.

     Red.

     Blue.

     Red.

     Blue.

     Red.

     Blue. 

     Voices.

     Loud.

     Pain.

      Pain.

      PAIN.

     Quiet.

     Beeping.

     Slow.

     Steady.

     Constant.

     Peaceful.

     Tensei couldn't identify one moment when he regained consciousness. He was just suddenly aware where before he hadn't been.

     And the first thing that he became aware of was pain. 

     His entire body, especially the left side, throbbed, aching and pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Still, it wasn't nearly as intense as he might have expected, all things considered. He must be on some really good painkillers, because there was no way he should have gotten out of being stabbed feeling this okay. Honestly, there was a significant part of him that hadn’t expected to wake up at all. If Phoenix and Wraith hadn’t turned up-

      Phoenix. Wraith.

     The pro hero’s eyes suddenly snapped open and he lurched, trying to sit up with the power of the spark of adrenaline that zipped through his veins as a sudden sense of panic seized hold of his chest. He groaned as a spike of pain instantly lanced across his chest, keeping him from making any headway whatsoever in that regard. Closing his eyes once again and gritting his teeth, he decided to focus on breathing, forcing air in and out of his lungs, doing all that he could not to fall into the natural instinct of hyperventilation.

     A hand fell on his.

     Tensei twitched, surprised by the unexpected touch, his dark eyes fluttering open once more. His eyes flicked to the hand on his, tracing up the arm to a slim woman with dark hair framing a thin face, the light of the sunset streaming through the window, glinting off of her thin, wire frame glasses, and casting her simple medical mask into stark shadows. 

     “Ka-”

     Tensei coughed harshly as the air caught in his throat, suddenly becoming aware of just how tight and dry his throat felt. He soon felt a gentle hand lifting his head, another one guiding a cup to his lips and helping him to drink. The cool water sliding down his throat was a relief; by the time it pulled away, he could swallow much more easily, not to mention it was much, much easier to focus on his mother’s face.

     “Kasan,” he murmured, smiling faintly and pressing her hand as it found its way back to his.

     “Tensei,” she murmured, her face crumpling in relief, her other hand rising to gently brush his bangs off of his forehead before reaching over to press the ‘Call Nurse’ button. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”

     “Was… was anyone else hurt?” Tensei asked, his thoughts turning back to his two young protectors (at least, he assumed Wraith was young; he hadn’t really been able to see their face). 

     “Not that anyone knows of,” his mother replied, her voice slightly muffled by her medical mask. “Your sidekicks said that they found you propped up against a wall just outside of an alleyway. When they investigated, they found a puddle of… of blood further inside, as well as quite a few scorch marks, but no other bodies.”

     “I… see,” Tensei murmured, frowning in concentration. Hopefully, a lack of bodies was good. Hopefully, that meant Phoenix and Wraith had gotten away safely.

     Unfortunately, it meant that Stain probably had as well.

     “How long have I-”

     The door of the hospital room slid open, startling the both of them. For a moment, Tensei thought it might be the nurse, but then he heard a choked gasp, a clatter of metal on tile, and a cry of, “Tensei!”

     “Tenya, keep your voice down!”

     Tensei smiled weakly and reached out his right hand (since his left was in significantly more pain). His mother excused herself briefly, stepping towards the still-open doorway as Tenya rushed forward, seizing it in both of his own, tears gleaming behind his glasses. “Oh thank God, you haven’t woken up in hours!”

     “I woke up before?” Tensei blinked, glancing towards their mother for confirmation.

     “Not for very long, but yes, right after you were taken out of the ICU. You… weren’t exactly lucid,” she explained, reclaiming her seat once she’d closed the door and grabbed what appeared to be a can of coffee.

     Ah, that’s probably what Tenya dropped when he entered the room.

     “Oh dear. I didn’t say anything embarrassing, did I?” the elder Iida chuckled nervously (biting back a wince when even that caused his wound to twinge), glancing back towards his brother as he took a seat in the chair on his other side. The grim look in Tenya’s eyes had Tensei hesitating, the amusement wiped clean off his face. “Tenya? What did I say?”

     Still, his little brother hesitated, glancing away from him, his grip tightening around Tensei’s hand. The tears in his dark eyes seemed to grow a little bit more pronounced, his jaw clenching. “You said…” he began finally, his voice breaking slightly, “You asked me… to become Ingenium. You said to… to take the name, because… because you didn’t know if… if you could carry it any longer.”

     Tensei’s eyes widened. “I said that?”

     “You… You did.”

     “Oh.” 

     The three of them fell silent, Tenya and his mother gently gripping Tensei’s hands, while Tensei himself was simply… contemplative. “If…” he began slowly, and his little brother’s head snapped back around to face him, “If it comes to that, I do want you to take the name, Tenya.”

     “But Onii-san-!”

     “I won’t force it on you,” Tensei smiled gently, “and who knows? Maybe I’ll make a full recovery and it’ll be a moot point. But if I have to give up being Ingenium, then honestly I can’t imagine anyone who would deserve the name more than you.”

     Tenya’s eyes widened, the tears beginning to slide down his cheeks. “I… I understand, Onii-san. Just… Just promise me… Promise me that you won’t give up.”

     “I promise,” Tensei chuckled again, only for the sound to devolve into another round of dry coughing.

     The nurse entered the room as Tenya was helping him to drink some more water, her eyes widening when she saw Tensei awake, although exhausted by his coughing fit. His family reluctantly stepped away from his bedside while the nurse checked the various instruments displaying information about his heart, his blood, and so on, her expression slowly shifting from calm professionalism to a small smile. 

     “It looks like you’re recovering remarkably well, all things considered,” she said finally, stepping back from the bed and notating something on a clipboard. “They had to perform a rather intensive surgery to insert a catheter into your arm in order to connect the severed halves of your artery and sew up the wound properly. You're lucky that we had a surgical doctor on staff today with a quirk that let him fuse the catheter to the tissue itself, rather than be forced to sew it together. However, your attacker did a lot of internal damage to your arm regardless; the musculature, tendons, and ligaments were all badly torn. I’m not sure of the doctor’s opinion, but I’m willing to guess that you won’t be able to return to hero work for a few months at least, Iida-san, and it’s possible that you’ll have to limit your activity after the fact as well. You’ll certainly have to engage in physical therapy.”

     “I understand,” Tensei nodded. He had expected as much. He wasn’t terribly happy about it of course, but using his quirk right after his arm had sustained this level of damage would not be wise. And besides, he trusted his team to pick up the slack in his absence. 

     “You’re very fortunate that someone thought to cauterize the wound,” the nurse murmured, her voice taking a grim tone as she set the clipboard back on the end of his bed. “These notes would indicate that you had lost nearly thirty percent of your blood to exsanguination by the time the ambulance managed to reach you. You were beginning to enter the early stages of hypoxia by the time they were able to give you an emergency blood transfusion.”

     Tensei nodded again, this time a little more absently, his exhaustion beginning to take its toll on his mind, “I’ll have to remember to thank them, if I ever get the chance.”

     “You should try to get some rest; that will be more healing than anything at this point. Iida-san, if your son wakes up again or there appear to be any changes in his condition, call again and we’ll have the doctor come take a look at him.”

     “Of course. Thank you.”

     “What did you mean by that, Onii-san?” Tenya asked curiously as the nurse left.

     “Mm?”

     “You said you’d thank them ‘if’ you get the chance. Was it not someone from your agency that cauterized the wound?”

     “Mm,” Tensei shook his head, letting his eyes close, his words beginning to slur here and there. “Was a vigilante duo that saved me.”

     “A what?”

     A smile twitched Tensei’s mouth, although he was too tired to laugh anymore. “No need to be so 'larmed, Tenya,” he yawned. “They were pretty good, hones’ly. One of ‘em had a blue fire quirk. Phoenix, he called himself. I think the other… was tel'inetic. Phoenix called ‘im Wraith.”

     “I… I suppose I will have to thank them as well, if I get the chance.”

     “Just don’ scold ‘em too much for usin’ their quirks withou’ a license,” Tensei mumbled. 

     If Tenya responded, Tensei didn’t hear him.

Outtake:

     Phoenix stood quietly under the awning of the corner cafe nearby Hosu General Hospital, slowly sipping on a mug of coffee, his piercing blue eyes constantly roving the rooftops nearby. He knew that he was being overly-cautious, coming back the day after Ingenium was attacked, but he didn’t want to take any risks here. Akaguro hadn’t exactly pulled punches back when he lived as the vigilante Stendhal. Phoenix couldn’t count on Stain just backing off because his target was surrounded with higher security than normal. And anyway, heroes often made the mistake of relaxing just because they weren’t on duty. 

     He would know, having taken advantage of that tendency several times himself.

     Still, nothing happened as he finished his drink and dropped it in the trash, pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking the time. He had about an hour before he had to get back; that was enough time to walk around the perimeter, right? 

     Phoenix kept his head down and checked to make sure his medical mask was firmly in place before beginning to make his way around the edge of the hospital, occasionally glancing skyward in case of dark shapes jumping over the rooftops. He got around to the front of the building about the same time a bus was pulling up to the stop just outside of the main entrance, the doors opening to permit the exit of several passengers, one of whom was a young man with dark hair, sharp eyebrows and square-shaped glasses. 

     Just for a moment, Phoenix startled, ducking back into the shadow of the alley, convinced that Ingenium would recognize him. Then he realized that the boy before him wasn’t the pro hero. He was far too young, far too stiff.

     Not to mention he’d never seen Ingenium wear an expression quite like that before.

     As Phoenix watched the younger Iida brother head into the hospital, he quietly pulled out his phone to write a quick message to Wraith, frowning briefly at the sight of a few messages his old friend had sent him earlier. They didn’t quite make sense, so he asked for clarification as well before locking the device and tucking it back into his pocket.

     When he had almost made it back to the compound, a TV in a nearby window gave him pause. Specifically, the vaguely-familiar house with a bizarrely charred backyard. Curious, he read the headline scrolling across the bottom of the screen: Deku Attacks UA Hero Student.

     His eyes widened as the earlier message clicked. 

     “I am gonna kill him!!”

Chapter Text

     “Hey, Tetsutetsu! Tsukino! How’s the Pres doing?” Awase-kun called, waving at the pair as they reentered the stands.

     “How do you think she’s doin’; her foot nearly got burned off by that 1-A bi-!”

     “She’s resting,” Aito cut in swiftly. “Ashido-san and Pressure Wash were able to clean her foot before any real damage could be done, so she’ll be fine after Recovery Girl-sensei uses her quirk."

     “That’s good,” Awase-kun smiled, obviously relieved as he settled back into his chair beside Kaibara-kun. 

     “I was concerned at the close of their fight, but it would seem Uraraka-kun is not the only student among the ranks of those in Class 1-A with a kind heart,” Shiozaki-kun agreed, her gleaming dark eyes reflecting a small smile. 

     “Shut up, idiots, I wanna see that blond bastard get creamed!” Kamakiri-kun yelled.

     “Honestly, there’s a part of me hoping he’ll win a few fights so Tsukino can beat the shit out of him,” Honenuki-kun mused.

     Aito laughed as he and Tetsu quickly reclaimed their seats. Honestly, a part of him was hoping for that as well, but as Present Mic-sensei began to announce the next match over the roar of the crowd, he knew who he was rooting for. 

      “Offense and defense in one! From the Hero Course, the dark samurai Tokoyami Fumikage! And from General Studies, the dark horse that hasn’t done much to stand out yet, please welcome Monoma Neito!”

     “I'mma set a stopwatch. You know, to see how long he lasts against a real hero student,” Awase-kun grinned, pulling out his phone. Aito chuckled at that. If there was one thing everyone in the first year Hero Course could agree on, it was their dislike of the arrogant General Studies student. 

      “Final match of the first round!” Midnight-sensei called. “Ready? Begin!!”

     “Start!” yelled Awase-kun

     “Are you prepared to be defeated by my superior-?”

     “Dark Shadow!”

     “Eh!?! Oof!!”

     “Stop!”

      “Winner: Tokoyami!”

     “How long was that?!?” Rin-kun shouted, grabbing the back of Awase-kun’s chair. Cackling madly, the dark-haired boy held up his phone for everyone else to see: 4.23 seconds.

     “Oh my God screenshot that please!!”

     “Send it to the group chat, Awase!”

     “Oh hell yeah!!”

     “He lasted fewer than five seconds!!”

     “Hey, would you mind sending me that pic, too?”

     Aito glanced up with no small amount of surprise towards the grimly satisfied smirk of a girl with purple hair poking her head up over the divider between their class and 1-A. She seemed vaguely familiar, so Aito was fairly certain she was in the other class, but he couldn’t recall seeing her during the Festival. “Why the hell not?” Awase-kun laughed, too delighted by the blonde’s suffering to be irritated by the interruption. The dark-haired girl’s smirk widened as she gave him her number, then she broke into a full grin when her phone pinged with a text. 

     “Perfect, thanks guys!” she called, dropping back down and fumbling with her keyboard. A minute later, Aito could hear most of Class 1-A breaking out in wild laughter as well, equally thrilled to see Monoma’s ego taken down a peg or two. Unexpectedly, a few of them actually popped up over the divider as well to thank Awase-kun for his foresight, including his former opponent Kaminari-san and a boy with purple hair and dark bags under his eyes that he also couldn’t recall seeing in the contest, but vaguely recognized from the entrance exam.

     “Before we take a quick break to prepare for the second round of the tournament, please welcome back to the stage for their tiebreaker match, our passionate, manly fighters Kirishima Eijirou and Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu!!”

     Huh. Somewhere in the chaos, Tetsu must have excused himself from the class. Both boys now marched out glowering at each other, deaf to the roars of excitement ringing out from the crowd. Midnight-sensei and Cementoss-sensei stood on either side of a cement block that had been raised up in the center of the stage. Rules were briefly explained by Midnight-sensei, and both Tetsu and Kirishima-san prepped for the most high-stakes arm-wrestling match of the century. 

      “Begin!”

     A screaming match instantly started in the stands, heroes and support teams howling for their favorite to win, Class 1-A cheering for Kirishima-san, and Class 1-B yelling encouragement to Tetsutetsu. For a full minute, the competition looked to be gridlocked, then, seemingly without warning, Tetsu flinched. 

     It was only the barest break in concentration, but for Kirishima-san it was apparently enough.

      “And the winner is: Kirishima!”

     “What the hell just happened!?” Kamakiri-kun yelled. “He had him!”

     “Iron deficiency,” Aito groaned as Kirishima roared in victory. “He’s overused his quirk.”

     “You shitting me?! Since when the hell has that been a problem?!” Awase-kun piped up.

     “Since forever. Why do you think Tetsu’s always eating beef and shellfish at lunch? They have really high iron content.”

     “I just thought he really liked meat,” Shoda-kun admitted quietly.

     “Well, that, too,” Aito acknowledged, watching with interest as the redhead helped his best friend back to his feet. He couldn’t hear what was being said between them over the cheering of the crowd, but it at least looked like they parted on relatively good terms. 

      “We will now take a twenty minute break before we start on the second round! Please take this time to get water or any other necessities you may need!”

     “Second round,” Honenuki-kun mumbled. “Do us proud, Tsukino! The last member of 1-B in the ring!”

     “No pressure or anything,” Aito snorted even as his heart began to race. 

     “Ah, you’ll do fine,” Tokage-kun assured him, reaching over a row of seats to squeeze his shoulder. “You did so well on the first match, remember?”

     “I only managed to do that well because Kaminari-san underestimated me,” her classmate shrugged. “Somehow I doubt that Uraraka-san will make the same mistake.”

     “It would be among the gravest of errors for us to cast aside your accomplishments up to this point, Tsukino-san. We would be remiss not to acknowledge your fortitude in battle,” Kuroiro-kun murmured quietly. 

     Shishida-kun blinked at the quiet, goth boy. Then he shrugged, grinning brightly. “What he said!”

     “Are strong! Will victory!” Tsunotori-kun agreed eagerly, her huge eyes bright and earnest, expressing her excitement even through her garbled Japanese. 

     “She’s right!” 

     “Guys, stop!” Aito blushed, although he couldn't hide his broad grin just the same.

     “Are we all embarrassing Tsukino?! I want in!” Tetsu shouted as he reentered the stands, grinning fiercely.

     “Tetsu! Welcome back!” Aito immediately called, eager to turn the spotlight to someone else for a minute.

     “Hey dude, how’d you feel about the match?!”

     “Yeah, no kidding; what a shitty ending!”

     “Actually, it wasn’t so bad,” Tetsutetsu shrugged, to the shock of all present. “What? Kirishima’s a pretty stand-up guy.”

     “Tetsu, you literally ranted about him for ten minutes straight at lunch.”

     “Well yeah, but it’s not like it’s his fault that we have similar quirks! And anyway, he’s a pretty passionate fighter! Might be cool to form a team some day!”

     “Dude, that is literally the opposite of what you’ve been saying all day!”

     “No it isn’t!”

     “You’ll just dig yourself a deeper hole if you keep denying it.”

     “Would you all just back off?!”

     Aito chuckled softly at his friends’ antics as he glanced at the time. The break was already half-way over. That meant he had ten minutes before his match with Uraraka-san. “Hey guys, I’m gonna head to the prep room!” he called, rising to his feet. Instantly, the class’s attention swung back to him.

     “Good luck, Tsukino-kun!”

     “Beat that chick!”

      “You can do it!”

     “Be victory!”

     “Do your best!”

     “Will do! I’ll see you all when it’s over!”

     Honestly, he hadn’t expected so much support when he arrived at UA. He’d been told to give up on his dream for as long as he could remember, from classmates, teachers, bullies, and so on. He was just grateful that his family had never given up on him, his dad signing him up for gymnastics, martial arts classes, and sword-fighting lessons while Kira vowed to work hard so that one day she could make all of his support gear. He’d honestly been prepared for the two of them to be the only support system he would ever have. 

     But then he’d arrived at UA. Then he’d met Tetsutetsu and Kendo. His other classmates were a little more wary of him. Not outwardly hostile, as he’d feared, but uncertain of what to think. Then they had their first bout of training and he’d had the chance to show his classmates what he was capable of. They had quickly warmed up to him after that. Suddenly, his support system had grown by twenty people. Then he’d overheard some of the kids from Class 1-A defending him as well, even though they’d never so much as met him, and realized that it may have grown by as many as forty people. 

     And now, with his preparation time over, here he was, being cheered on by hundreds--no, thousands-- of pro heroes from across Japan. Perhaps he had more support than he’d truly realized.

      “Alrighty then, folks, let’s get back into it!! Our next match-up features two incredible students that shocked us with their tactical skills in the initial competitions of the Festival and the first round of the tournament! Please welcome back to the stadium Uraraka Ochaco and Tsukino Aito, both from the Hero Course!!!”

     The crowd roared their approval as the two students stepped onto the pitch, Aito once again holding his sword, this time unsheathed from the start. Both of their faces were set in expressions of calm focus and determination as they assessed one another. At their core, Aito knew that they were both close-range fighters, although of the two of them, his sword gave him the longer reach. She would be wary of his blade--thus the reason why he chose to use the sword itself and not just the cane--which might give him the time he needed to force her to the edge of the ring and drive her out, but if she got her hands on him even for a moment, the match would be over.

     Which was why it was a good thing his sword would give him the advantage of keeping Uraraka-san at a distance, but he had already been warned and was very aware of the fact that he could cause lethal injury. Should that happen, he would be disqualified from the tournament and could potentially even be expelled from UA. He knew that, had known that from the moment he had submitted his request papers and already knew that he could never intentionally hurt anyone in such a way, but it also meant that his tactical abilities were severely limited.

      “Ready?! Begin!”

     Aito strode towards the center of the pitch, unwilling to use up his stamina just yet. Uraraka seemed to have a similar idea, her hands held out slightly to either side as she walked forward, fingers twitching in anticipation. When they were about seven or eight meters apart, by some unspoken agreement, the two of them broke into a run, rushing to meet in the middle of the arena. 

     As expected, he was able to reach her with his sword well before she could touch him with her hand. He slashed sideways, his sword a silver blur as he struck, forcing Uraraka to leap back and dodge out of the way. He quickly brought his sword back, close to his body and ready to defend instead of allowing himself to hyperextend. It was a wise strategy, considering the way that Uraraka didn’t even pause to try to reevaluate the situation, simply changing direction and trying to charge in from another angle. It wasn’t exactly the most elegant of approaches, but all things considered, it was likely the most effective. She needed either to touch him or to distract him enough to force him to the edge of the ring--something that he forced himself to remain keenly aware of, remembering what happened to Shiozaki and even Kendo. Once or twice, he did have to alter his tactics from preemptive defensive strikes to dodging in order to maneuver back to the center of the arena; Uraraka had excellent spatial awareness on the battlefield, manipulating her opponents’ movement as subtly as she did. 

     Meanwhile, Aito tried to focus on how he could knock his opponent out. He could only win one of three ways: knocking her out of the ring, keeping her from moving, or making her surrender. Uraraka had clearly taken the lead in this fight, her continuous, though one-note attacks directing their movement as a combative pair, so it would be difficult if not impossible to force her to the edge, especially if he wanted to maintain the illusion of the danger behind his sword. The only ways to immobilize her would require that he use his weapon to cause brutal harm to the girl or to get in close and grapple her--something that he really shouldn’t do, considering the threat that her quirk posed. Getting her to cry uncle would be challenging. The only way he could see that happening was by exhausting her or badly injuring her, which he really didn’t want to do, and he didn’t think he had the stamina to push her to that limit. He needed something quick and decisive--a blow that would end this fight in one hit. 

     It would be a risk, but battles would always be risky for a quirkless hero. 

     Aito suddenly switched from a defensive stance to an offensive one, nimbly darting forward and slashing towards Uraraka’s head, turning his wrist so that the flat of the blade would strike her temple, hopefully giving her enough of a concussion to knock her out of the match. He saw her brown eyes grow wide before they suddenly hardened and she lunged forward.

      There's not enough time-!

     Uraraka’s hand seized his sleeve the same moment that his sword clanged against the back of her head, his opponent having turned her neck to avoid the strike to her temple. The girl staggered and collapsed to hands and knees even as an unfamiliar sensation rushed through Aito’s entire body, making his stomach swoop like he was on a roller coaster. He heard his own voice yelp in alarm when he tried to step forward only for his feet not to make it back to the ground. He was floating, unable to take a single productive step towards his opponent, who continued to kneel at a lopsided angle, panting hard, fingers curled into fists before she unsteadily pushed herself to her feet. 

     Uraraka stumbled slightly as she turned to face him, hands up and ready to strike if necessary, but Aito couldn’t exactly attack her considering that he wasn’t able to direct his own movements. He could throw his sword in a last ditch attack, but without any modicum of control over the weapon and her likely with some level of concussion, he couldn’t risk potentially seriously injuring her.

      “Tsukino-kun, can you attack Uraraka-kun as you are now?” Midnight-sensei asked, drawing his attention away from his blinders and back to the stadium as a whole.

     “No ma’am, I don’t think I can,” he admitted reluctantly.

      “Tsukino has been effectively immobilized! Winner, Uraraka!”

     “Oh thank goodness!” Uraraka-san gasped, immediately slumping back to her knees, clutching both sides of her head with both pinkies raised as the crowd roared in delight. “So loud.”

     “Uh, Uraraka-san, could you let me down now?” Aito called uncertainly, still floating. 

     “Huh? Oh… Right, I should let you down shouldn’t I,” the brunette mumbled, grimacing as she pulled her hands from her ears and pressed her fingers together, mumbling something that he didn’t quite catch. 

     Gravity instantly returned to him, leaving Aito yelping in surprise before he collapsed back to the ground, not having been quite balanced or prepared for his literal return to Earth. Uraraka-san winced. “S-Sorry, I should’ve… Um… Sorry.”

     “Nah, you’re fine,” Aito grimaced back, rubbing his newly-scraped and bruised arm. “Um, are you okay?”

     “I’ll be fine,” she mumbled back, trying and failing to stagger to her feet before he managed to catch her arm. 

     “I think you have a concussion.”

     “I’m sure I’ll get worse. Y’know, some day…”

     Her eyes were slightly crossed as she trailed off. Aito was glad that the medical bots were on their way to collect her. Honestly, Recovery Girl would probably want him there too so that she could take a look at his arm, superficial though it was. 

     “You’re really good you know,” Uraraka-san mumbled as she took a shaky step towards the stretcher. “You’re gonna be awesome. All you guys are awesome.” The brunette offered him a dazed smile. “Keep being awesome, okay?”

     “Um,” he blinked at her. “Okay.” 

     Aito grabbed his fallen sword and discarded sheath from the arena before trailing after her stretcher all the way to the infirmary. The poor girl was only semi-conscious most of that time, but she didn’t seem too badly hurt. There was a part of him that wondered at the girl’s recklessness. Had she really just been banking on the hope that he probably hadn’t been about to do anything that would actually get her killed, seizing what could be her only opportunity to get a grip on him? Well, it had worked in her favor this time, but he seriously hoped that wasn’t her plan for the rest of the matches, not to mention how she intended to fight against villains in some future day. 

     “Honestly, one of these days someone’s going to end up killed in one of these matches,” Recovery Girl was grousing as they entered the room. She immediately hopped out of her office chair, bustling over to Uraraka-san. “How are you feeling, dear?” she asked in a soft, almost-clipped tone. Considering the girl’s condition, Aito was willing to bet it was just formality. 

     “…Head hurts,” the brunette mumbled back eventually. “Kinda sick. I don’t think I used my quirk that much though?”

     “Definitely concussed,” the doctor clicked her tongue. “Alright, I’m going to use my quirk on you, young miss. You’re going to fall asleep, but you should be up before your next match.”

     “M’kay.”

     “What’s this?! The great quirkless hero met his match?!” a voice sneered. Aito didn’t even bother to fight back a groan, turning to where Monoma was seated on a hospital bed, his manic grin stretched from ear to ear. “And to think that you were going to beat me! What about now, little hero, do you really believe yourself capable of being a hero after such a crushing defeat?! All she had to do was touch you, and-!”

     “At least he hit me back,” Uraraka-san snapped from where she was stumbling to a different cot, her weight largely supported by Recovery Girl-sensei. “And he managed to do it hard enough to give me a splitting headache, so would you shut up?”

     Monoma choked, obviously flabbergasted. “Y-You don’t get to talk to me like that when you’re obviously too weak to properly win a fight, you… you-!”

     “My my, young Monoma, since you’re obviously so well recovered from your injury, it seems that it’s time for you to leave and return to the arena while I tend to my patients,” Recovery Girl cut in, a rather fixed smile curling her face as Uraraka-san got herself settled. 

     The belligerent blonde paled at the expression. Mumbling excuses, he stood and quickly left the room, making sure to ‘accidentally’ bump Aito in the shoulder on his way out. “Little brat,” Recovery Girl scowled, taking Uraraka-san’s wrist and kissing it lightly. True to her word, the brunette was out like a light a moment later. Aito couldn’t help but smirk a little bit at the woman’s commentary. 

     “Are you really allowed to talk about your students that way?”

     “I am when they talk rudely about my patients, yes,” the elderly doctor snapped. “Speaking of, did you need me for anything?”

     “Just a few scratches,” he shrugged. “I probably don’t need your quirk, but I thought it would be a good idea to wash and bandage them at least.”

     “Hm. Well, at least we have one hero student this year that’s concerned with his personal health,” she sighed, grabbing a simple first aid kit from under her desk and beckoning for him to approach. “Unfortunately, recklessness seems to be a common trait among heroes.” 

     “So I’ve noticed,” Aito winced.

     “Well, I suppose it’s not your fault that Ms. Uraraka chose to take the hit rather than dodge it, although there’s a part of me that wishes you hadn’t hit her so hard,” came the weary sigh as the doctor took his arm, inspecting his scrapes. Then, under her breath, “Honestly Yagi, what did you say to the girl?”

      Who’s Yagi? Aito wondered, but didn’t ask. If Recovery Girl-sensei meant to elaborate, then she would; if not, then it wasn’t his business. Before long, the doctor had finished cleaning and bandaging his cuts and sent him on his way with a small handful of gummies, which he popped into his mouth as he walked back up to the stadium. He passed by a girl with long maroon pigtails and soft pink eyes along the way, humming to herself as she skipped down the hallway. He didn’t recognize her, but she had a good bit of high tech gear attached to her belt, so maybe she was a support student, like Hatsume-kun.

     “Tsukino!”

     Aito was mobbed the moment he walked into the stands, all of his classmates jabbering at once about what awesome skills he had and several of the guys (as well as one or two of the girls) complaining that he should have been declared the winner considering what state Uraraka-san had been in at the end of the match or huffing about how rude she had been just to drop him the way she did while Kendo grinned up at him from her seat next to Tetsu and waved for him to join them.

     “You did really well,” she praised quietly as he took his seat next to her. “You should’ve heard all of the pros in the stands talking about your swordplay skills and lamenting what a bad match-up it was; they really wanted the chance to see how you’d do against someone like Tetsutetsu, where you would’ve been able to go hand-to-hand, not to mention fight all-out without the risk of hurting anyone.”

     “Well, can’t be helped,” Aito shrugged, setting his sword to one side. “Uraraka-san was really good too, though.”

     “Without a doubt, but if that had been a straight fight where you weren’t so worried about hurting her, I bet you could’ve won.”

     “Heh. Thanks. Anyway, how’s your foot?”

     “Good, thanks!” the strawberry-haired girl grinned, lifting her leg so that her friend could see the simple bandages winding around her ankle and the plain slippers she was wearing over them. “Recovery Girl said that the skin would probably still be a little bit sensitive for a few days--hence the bandage--but the injury’s totally fine. Which reminds me, Mina asked if me and Tetsutetsu wanted to go out for ice cream with her, Kirishima and a few of their friends after the Festival; wanna come?”

     “Really?” Aito blinked in surprise, perking up. “Sure, that’d be great!”

     “Cool!”

     “Shut up guys, Kirishima’s up next!” Tetsu snapped, eagerly leaning against the row of seats in front of them. My, how opinions can change.

     “What do you think’s gonna happen Tsukino?” Kendo asked as the redhead stepped onto the pitch, Aoyama-san entering from the other side. 

     “Considering how similar he acts to Tetsu, I’m willing to bet he’ll just tank the hits to get in close and then down Aoyama-san with a few punches.”

     “You really think it’ll be that easy for him?”
    “You mean you didn’t notice? The more Aoyama uses his ability, the more it seems to hurt him somehow,” Aito replied, thinking back to the way the blond boy’s laser attacks had grown slower and shorter throughout his… performance with Hatsume-san.

     “Huh,” Kendo mused. “Guess I’ll have to pay a bit more attention.”

     The match played out essentially the way that Aito had predicted. Aoyama-san’s lasers obviously hurt--they tore holes in Kirishima-san’s uniform and left dark scorch marks on his hardened skin--but the redhead just grit his shark-like teeth and bore the pain, charging in with a ferocity that probably would have been terrifying to face head-on. One fierce uppercut from the redhead’s hardened fist sent his opponent flying, instantly KOed. 

     “Wha’d’ya know, it all worked out as planned,” Kendo grinned, leaning back comfortably as Tetsu screamed his support. Aito snorted. 

     “It’s not like I strategized with Kirishima beforehand.”

     “I know, but it’s still nice to see that our resident strategist hasn’t lost his touch.”

     “I’m hardly the only person in the class with an eye for tactics, Kendo.”

     “Yeah, yeah. So how do you think the next match is going to turn out?”

     “Next match is Todoroki-san and Bakugou-san, right?” Aito mused. 

     “Right.”

     Todoroki-san and Bakugou-san were Class 1-A’s two resident powerhouses. They’d both demonstrated that in their first matches, plus they’d both been frontrunners in the first event. Not to mention both had created teams in the Cavalry Battle that played excellently to their strengths, thinking mainly of tactics over cliques. They were both strong and skilled; there could be no doubt of that.

     But Todoroki-san had demonstrated one clear weakness: he refused to attack from his left side. 

     Of course, Aito had no context to place that information in. It could be that there was an injury beyond the obvious scar around his eye. Maybe it had something to do with his ice quirk, or maybe there was something else entirely. Either way, he was certain that Bakugou-san would take advantage of the opening if presented to him. The only potential problem was Todoroki-san’s frankly overwhelming power. If he opened the match with another massive glacier, then he might manage to end things before they really began. They’d just have to wait and see how Bakugou-san’s power matched up to his rival’s. 

     “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Kendo murmured once he’d finished explaining his thoughts to her. “It’s kind of a toss-up. It’ll all depend on if Todoroki can maintain that level of output he demonstrated earlier.”

     “Exactly,” Aito nodded. “That, and who’s willing to fight harder, I guess.”

      “And on we go to the third match of the second round!!” Present Mic-sensei crowed to the roar of the crowd. “Two frontrunners of the festival from the very start, please welcome to the stage Todoroki Shouto and Bakugou Katsuki!!”

     The screaming that filled the stadium was loud enough to make Aito wonder if a riot had started. He supposed that he couldn’t be too surprised, though. Todoroki-san and Bakugou-san were, as he’d already noted, powerhouses, which was likely to mean that this was going to be one hell of a fight to watch. Still, the pro heroes sounded a little too much like rabid animals for his taste.

      “Ready~?” Midnight-sensei called, her tone of voice indicating that she was just as eager for this battle as her peers. “Begin!!”

     Both hero students acted in the same instant, Bakugou launching forward with explosions bursting from both of his hands while Todoroki dropped into a crouch, his right hand pressing to the floor. Instantly, another massive glacier arose, blasting forwards and outwards and consuming the opposite side of the arena. Aito couldn’t help but shiver at the blast of cold air that washed over him before the arena grew still and quiet again.

     “Ah shit, I guess it’s over then,” Awase-kun groaned somewhere nearby, his voice eerily loud in the sudden silence. 

     “Hold up,” Shishida-kun countered, his ears almost seeming to twitch, “do you guys hear that?”

     Everyone in Class 1-B went utterly still, listening intently. And suddenly, Aito could hear it. A distant boom, like thunder, drawing steadily louder, closer, until-

     BANG!! CRACK!!!

     All at once the front of the glacier shattered, revealing a panting, but still very-much-in-the-game, Bakugou, his face set in a ferocious snarl. With a sound almost like a roar, he launched himself forward once again. Todoroki, after an initial moment of surprise, raised his right hand once again, ready to counterattack, only for Bakugou--in a superb feat of dexterity that had even Aito yelling in excitement--to use another explosion at the very last instant to dodge out of the way, seize the other boy’s left arm, and use the momentum to fling him towards the out-of-bounds line, shouting at the top of his lungs.

     “Especially when you only use half of it!!!”

      Huh? What does that mean? Aito wondered. Once again, he had the distinct impression that he was missing some sort of context for this fight, but that wasn’t something he would be able to rectify while it was happening. 

     Especially when Todoroki just formed an ice wall in midair and was using it to surf back to the center of the stage so that he could face Bakugou head-on once more. The blonde was ready to meet him though, blasting forward and, once again, catching Todoroki’s left arm, setting his base, and throwing him over his shoulder in a judo flip that left the ice-wielder skidding across a thin sheet of ice for several meters, gasping for breath when he finally came to a stop and struggling to reach his feet.

     “Come on, Icyhot!! If you have no intention of winning, then why the hell are you here at all?!” Bakugou screamed now, explosions crackling across his palms in his frustration, nearly drowning out his voice.

     “Icyhot?” Tetsutetsu scoffed. “What kind of name is that for a guy with an ice quirk?”

     “It's a name for the kind of guy that only uses half his quirk,” Aito realized, pointing to the screens at the top of the stadium displaying the names and quirks of the current match-up: Bakugou Katsuki, Explosion, and Todoroki Shouto, Half-Cold, Half-Hot.

     “So wait, that guy has a fire quirk too?!”

     When Aito snapped his gaze back to the fight, not much had changed. Todoroki had managed to reach his feet; his hands were balled into fists and his head was slightly bowed. He seemed to be speaking, his head snapping up somewhere in the middle of his speech to glower at Bakugou with such ferocity that if looks could kill, the blond boy would be massacred. But instead, Bakugou just stared at him.

     Then he started laughing. 

     It wasn’t amused laughter. It was high, wild, and bitter, and it seemed to take Todoroki aback just as much as it startled everyone else in the stadium. Whatever Todoroki had said to his opponent, he most certainly had not expected this response. Eventually though, Bakugou managed to calm himself down, at which point he looked at Todoroki with such a grim smile that it sent a chill through everyone that could see it. 

     A few more unheard words were spoken.

     The next time Bakugou literally exploded towards Todoroki, Aito could just hear the words he yelled: “I refuse to let my past control my future!”

     Whether it was the shock or just a slow reaction, Todoroki wasn’t quite able to get an ice barrier up in time as Bakgou’s arms swung forward and he roared at the top of his lungs, “HOWITZER IMPACT!!”

     The explosion that Bakugou managed to produce in that instant shook the entire stadium, causing Aito’s vision to flash white with the sheer intensity of it. Hot and cold air crashed over him all at once and somewhere he heard Tsunotori-kun and Komori-kun scream. 

     “The hell just happened?!” Tetsu shouted, instinctively turning to steel to protect himself against the shards of ice flying across the stands.

     “I have no idea!!” Kendo shouted back. 

     When the mist and dust settled, Bakugou had been thrown back against the remnants of the massive ice glacier and stood there slumped and panting for breath. The ice ‘wave’ that Todoroki had made had been utterly demolished, massive chunks scattered across the grass outside of the ring, and Todoroki himself lay unconscious amid its remnants. 

      “Uh. Winner: Bakugou Katsuki!”

     Bakugou-san finally raised his head as the crowd started cheering, roaring its approval at the epic, if somewhat stunning, conclusion to the match. Slowly, Bakugou managed to force himself to straighten up, standing tall and strong before his audience, his expression stony and cold before he turned and began to march away. 

     Aito might have been imagining it, but for a moment, he could have sworn that the blond boy’s hands were shaking. 

     The next few fights went rather quickly. Tokoyami-san defeated Ashido-san almost as quickly as he’d managed to defeat Monoma, but she at least was able to fight back, throwing fistfuls of acid at his Dark Shadow and dodging his first strike before the creature managed to catch her around the waist and shove her out of the ring. She was disappointed of course (and a little miffed that Awase-kun hadn’t thought to track her time against him), but she was a good sport about it. 

     Uraraka-san versus Kirishima-san was an interesting fight as well. After the twenty minute break between the second and third rounds, the two faced each other in hand-to-hand combat, but again, Uraraka-san’s quirk was better suited to a one-on-one fight. That being said, she didn’t actually take him down by floating him into submission. Instead, when she managed to touch him, Kirishima-san panicked and  hardened his feet, slamming them into the concrete to give himself an anchor. However, since he wasn’t capable of moving or reacting in that state, Uraraka-san was able to pull some kind of martial arts move too quickly for him to follow that resulted in the redhead being pinned on his stomach with his hands firmly trapped behind his back and his ankle badly swollen from being wrenched out of the arena floor. Midnight-sensei declared Uraraka-san the winner, and Kirishima-san took it like a champ, laughing as his opponent helped him hobble out of the arena while Cementoss did repairs. 

     The second and final fight of the third round was a little disappointing in some ways. After winning two previous matches completely uncontested, it seemed that Tokoyami-san had finally encountered a terrible match-up. After dodging the first couple of attacks by Dark Shadow using his explosions, Bakugou dove straight for Tokoyami, firing explosion after explosion off at his sentient quirk at close range, somehow driving the bird-headed student completely on the defensive. Then, with another special move called ‘Stun Grenade’, Bakugou managed to unleash a blaze of light that completely incapacitated Dark Shadow, leaving his user with no choice but to surrender. It was something of an anticlimactic ending after everything else he’d managed to accomplish.

     But nothing could have prepared Aito for the finals. 

      “This is it, people!! We’re on to the final match of the first year’s UA Sports Festival!! On one side, we have an early front runner and certified quirk powerhouse, Bakugou Katsuki!! And on the other, we have our strategist and martial artist, Uraraka Ochaco!!”

     The crowd roared in excitement as the two hero students began making their separate ways towards the arena, both tense and determined. “Does anybody else get the feeling that this is gonna be one hell of a match?” Kodai-kun commented quietly.

     “Yeah,” Kendo nodded in agreement. “You can tell just by looking at their faces.”

     Tetsutetsu was too busy screaming in excitement, but Aito found himself nodding as well, watching as Midnight-sensei raised her whip and called, “Final match! Ready~? Begin!!!”

     Uraraka instantly sprinted forward, keeping herself low to the ground in much the same way she had when going up against Shiozaki. A chorus of oohs! rose through the crowd as Bakugou immediately responded with a massive explosion, sending the brunette tumbling backwards and skidding back to her feet. 

     “She has really good footwork,” Kendo commented past a wince. 

     “Yeah, you can tell that she has a martial arts background given her recovery time,” Aito nodded in agreement as the girl recklessly charged once again. This time, there was an instant after the explosion where, in the midst of the light and debris, Aito lost track of Uraraka. Bakugou seemed to have found her though, whirling on the spot and lashing out, only for the smoke to clear and reveal that what he’d actually managed to grab hold of was Uraraka’s empty jacket--the girl herself was charging him from behind. 

     “She got win!” Tsunotori-kun squealed.

     But she’d spoken too soon. With impressive reaction time, Bakugou twisted and fired off another massive explosion, this one also knocking the brunette off of her feet. Again, again, and again, Uraraka charged, and over, and over, and over again, Bakugou blasted her back, the force of his explosions never faltering, the speed of her charges never wavering. And slowly, little by little, the stands grew quiet. 

     “This… This is hard to watch, right?” Shishida-kun muttered. “It’s not just me?”

     “Yeah,” Awase-kun agreed softly, wincing as yet another explosion threw Uraraka back.

     “I think it’d be worse otherwise,” Aito said quietly. 

     “Huh?”

     “When I won the obstacle course, Bakugou approached me for a minute. He told me not to expect him to go easy on me just because I was quirkless. I told him I’d be insulted if he did, and I meant it.” Aito turned towards his friends, his blue eyes hard and unrelenting, determined to impress upon them the intensity of his feelings. “As somebody who’s quirkless, I’ve been told all my life that I’m incapable: that I could never stand up against a real villain, that I’ll only get myself killed, that I should give up. Having someone hold back against me in a one-on-one fight like this would essentially be like them telling me the exact same thing, just in a different way. So no matter how much it hurt, even if I couldn’t beat him, if I were ever to fight against Bakugou, I’d want him to give it everything.”

     Tetsutetsu shot him a wide-eyed look at that. “That… That is actually kind of awesome.”

     “That’s basically what Bakugou’s friends told me earlier,” Kendo murmured thoughtfully as another series of explosions rang out. “He fights all-out as a sign of respect. Not to mention what he said at the start of the Festival. ‘If you don’t give it everything, you don’t have a right to be here’.”

     “Exactly,” Aito nodded, “and anyway, I get the feeling that Uraraka has more up her sleeve than any of us realize.”

     Still, it was difficult to see such unrelenting determination on both sides, and to see someone with so much drive and focus getting knocked down over and over and over and over. It was really only a matter of time before somebody snapped.

     “Hey, shouldn’t one of the teachers step in?!” a voice cried out from the middle of the crowd. 

     “Yeah, this is too rough!!”

     “This is shameful! Listen kid, you really wanna be a hero?! If you’re so good, just send her out of bounds!”

     “Yeah, you heard the guy!!”

     “Stop toying with her!”

     Aito was flabbergasted. Don’t they see that the reason she hasn’t been sent out of bounds yet is because she’s so good? Come on, they witnessed her performance through the earlier matches; haven’t they realized how capable she is?!

      “In a stunning turn of events, the crowd is booing Bakugou! And honestly, I kinda get it- Whoa, hey!!”

     “Where is the man who started this uproar?!” Aizawa’s voice snarled over the PA system. “Are you a pro? Because if you’re serious, you can just go and hang up your cape. I suggest looking into another career.”

      “Daaaaang,” Tokage-kun hissed, bringing a hand to her mouth, eyes wide with something between shock and amusement.

      “Bakugou’s fierceness is an acknowledgment of his opponent’s strength; he knows that she deserves to have made it this far. So he’s making sure he does whatever it takes to keep her at bay, making sure that he’ll come out on top. Besides, it’s just embarrassing that a pro wouldn’t have noticed Uraraka’s aptitude for strategy, especially after Mic talked it up so damn much.”

     “What does he mean by that?” Shiozaki-kun frowned.

     “Holy shit, you guys! Look!”

     Aito grinned when he glanced up, discovering dozens upon dozens of shards of cement suspended in midair above the stadium, all pieces that Bakugou had blown out of the arena because of Uraraka’s relentless, low-to-the-ground charges, which she’d then touched and sent flying above the stage. Even as he watched, Uraraka yelled and pressed her hands together, releasing her quirk’s hold on the shards and sending them plummeting back towards Earth.

      “A meteor shower?!”

     “Now you notice.”

     Uraraka charged one last time as the debris crashed towards the ground, touching her own arm to increase her speed as she leaped forward. But at the same moment, Bakugou raised his hands towards the sky, sparks flying up his arm before another massive explosion, possibly even bigger than the one he’d fired off against Todoroki, burst from his palm, the shockwave sending a blast of air outwards in all directions, knocking back everyone in the stands and sending Uraraka flying one last time. 

     “Incredible!! Bakugou’s explosion has just blown apart Uraraka’s finishing move, and now he stands completely untouched!!”

     The entire stadium watched with bated breath as the trembling brunette slowly pushed herself to her hands and knees, then staggered to her feet. Bakugou, who’d waited until his opponent had regained at least a semblance of a stance, now charged towards her, his expression unquestionably grim as his hands sparked in readiness. Uraraka turned to face him, ready to fight back-

     -only to collapse, her legs completely giving out on her. Almost more startling though was Bakugou's reaction. 

     The ash blonde immediately flinched, almost tripping over his own feet as he stumbled to a halt, not even attempting to take a stance. He just watched, his mouth open in something like horror, his arms and shoulders unusually tense. There was a moment, after Uraraka finally went still, when he took a step towards her, but Midnight-sensei stepped between them, holding out a hand as she knelt by Uraraka’s side and announced quietly, “Uraraka is KOed. Bakugou wins the tournament!”

     Little by little, the crowd built back into a frenzied crescendo of cheering, many of them praising Uraraka-san’s fortitude, others Bakugou-san’s respect or ferocity. Then, abruptly, the crowd quieted down again, some measure of worry rippling through the onlookers as the blond boy marched decisively forward and, to the surprise of everyone, knelt down at his opponent’s side.

     Aito couldn’t hear what the champion said, but he did see, as everyone else did, Uraraka-san twitch slightly as she came back to the land of the living, and he watched with no small sense of amazement as Bakugou-san helped her to her feet and supported her weight as she stumbled off the stage, both quietly talking, wearing unsteady smiles.

     When the cheering came back, it came back tenfold, stunned by the display of sportsmanship and goodwill between the two hero students. Even Tetsutetsu slumped back in his chair, more than a little bit awed by the abrasive boy’s unexpected show of compassion (although, there was a brief moment when Aito could have sworn he heard Bakugou-san’s voice shouting down below him before Present Mic-sensei began with his announcements once again).

      “Let’s give it up for all of our incredible competitors today! What a remarkable way to finish off a day of competition!!”

     Fifteen minutes later, the awards ceremony began. Aito joined the rest of the competitors out on the field while fireworks and confetti exploded overhead. (He did not envy whoever would be tasked with cleaning that up.) The podiums rose from the ground, since literally everything at UA had to be Plus Ultra, revealing a subdued and surly Bakugou-san standing on the top tier with his hands in his pockets (had he changed out of his boots?), an unsteady but still brightly smiling Uraraka-san on the second tier, and a cheering Kirishima-san and solemn Tokoyami-san sharing the third.

      “Now, let’s break out the hardware!” Midnight-sensei called. “Of course, there’s only one person worthy of distributing the awards~!”

     Iconic laughter boomed over the field, and the entire stadium went nuts as All Might himself leaped in front of the podium. There was an awkward moment when Midnight-sensei messed up a cue line, but it didn’t really matter once he got into the presentation of the medals themselves. Aito was actually close enough to the front of the field to hear him quietly imparting words of congratulations and advice to the winners; praising Tokoyami-san for his strength but cautioning him that he wouldn’t always be able to rely on his quirk, and encouraging Kirishima-san’s energy and enthusiasm but reminding him to work on strategy and mobility. 

     His soft conversation with Uraraka-san seemed considerably more emotional than the previous two, as All Might rested one hand on her shoulder and murmured, “We’ll talk more later Uraraka-shoujo, but just know that I am very, very proud of you.”

     “Ya- All Might-sensei… do you think I’m ready?” Uraraka-san asked softly as the silver medal settled around her neck.

     “Yes, my girl,” the man replied with a soft, fond smile, “I most certainly do.”

     Who knew what exactly that meant, but either way, Uraraka-san had tears streaming past her bright smile when he moved on, stepping up to Bakugou-san’s podium.

     “Bakugou-shounen, I am very impressed by your performance today!” All Might beamed as he slipped the gold medal over the boy’s head.

     “Yeah. Whatever,” Bakugou-san mumbled back. Aito frowned, wondering what had the boy so down, all things considered. It seemed that All Might had a better sense for that than he did, though, because suddenly his iconic smile seemed to slip, just a little bit, and he reached out to gently squeeze his student’s shoulder. “You know, Bakugou-shounen, I’ve been meaning to have a word with you for quite some time. This isn’t the time or the place, but please… try to remember that what happened to Midoriya-shounen wasn’t your fault.”

     Bakugou-san’s head snapped up at the number one pro hero’s words, his crimson eyes wide with shock and something far more vulnerable before he quickly looked away. “But I… Fine. I’ll try,” he murmured. All Might nodded, squeezed the boy’s arm one last time, and turned back to face the crowd. 

      “Here they are, the winners of this year’s Sports Festival! But listen closely: any of you first years could have ended up standing on these podiums. Think about what you’ve done today: you’ve challenged each other, learned, and climbed even closer to being pros! I think our next generation of heroes is going to be our most promising one yet! So I have only one more thing to say, and I want to hear everyone say it with me! Go beyond…”

      “PLUS ULTRA!!!!!!”

Outtake:

     Katsuki's ears were ringing in the eerie silence as Round Cheeks continued to struggle weakly on the ground, even with the help of his hearing aids. He was panting heavily, arms trembling and wrists pulsing with the effort of firing off another Howitzer Impact without the aid of his gauntlets. Even his legs and ankles hurt from the effort of bracing himself against the shockwave. 

     But all he could see was the broken figure lying in front of him, covered in soot and unconscious. All he could remember was messy green hair and empty green eyes because he had knocked the life out of them. 

     He didn't realize he'd moved forward until Midnight-sensei held up a hand to stop him. Somewhere in the distance, he knew she had called his name as the victor and the subdued roar that sounded in response was the shouting of the audience, but Katsuki still flinched, hearing only the jeers of his old cronies, mocking the person that should have been his friend. 

     Katsuki closed his eyes, curling his trembling hands into fists and forcing himself to breathe, listening intently to the ringing in his ears and tuning out the crowd as he reminded himself where he was. 

     This wasn't like back then. 

      He wasn't like back then.

     He wasn’t going to leave his friend on the ground again.

     Ignoring the crowd, ignoring even Midnight-sensei, ignoring the way that his hands continued to shake and his legs felt just shy of giving out, Katsuki stepped forward and crouched down beside the unmoving figure, lightly shaking her shoulder. "Oi, Round Cheeks, you seriously just gonna take that lying down?"

     The brunette groaned softly, her face scrunching up before those too-big eyes of hers flickered open. She was definitely out of it, her gaze slack and unfocused even as she managed to raise her head towards him. "Baku…kun? Did I… lose?" she mumbled blearily.

     Well, at least it didn’t look like she had a concussion. Remarkable, considering the number of times he’d thrown her across the pitch.

     "Yeah, but you sure as hell made me work for it," Katsuki grunted as he took her arm and pulled it over his shoulders, wrapping his other arm around her waist to assist his classmate to her feet. "Come on, Round Cheeks, up and at 'em."

     The shorter hero-in-training stumbled upright alongside him, pressing her free hand over her mouth as she swayed slightly. Katsuki raised an eyebrow at her. "Think you can walk to Recovery Girl's, or should I carry you?"

     "Try to pick me up, and I'll-- urp-- float you i-into the sun."

     Katsuki snorted, not even bothering to hide his amusement as he led the way towards the tunnel. “Glad to hear you haven’t lost your fire, Round Cheeks.”

     “You can bet on that, P-Pomeranian.”

     Katsuki stopped short, gaping down at her wry little grin. “The hell did you call me?”

     “Ah, don’t worry ab-bout it. Urp,” the girl groaned suddenly, pressing her hand over her mouth again and stumbling slightly. “Ugh, I really overd-did it this time, didn’ I.”

     “Frick yeah, you did, ya’ badass,” Katsuki smirked, heading off again once she'd regained her balance. “The hell kinda finishing move was that, anyway? Mighta killed anyone else. ‘cept maybe Weird Hair and his twin.”

     “Tha’ mean… you approve?”

     “Damn straight, Round Cheeks.”

     Uraraka grinned weakly.

     Then she promptly threw up all over both of their shoes.

     Later on, they found out from Kirishima that the cursing and apologies could be heard all the way up in the stands.

Discord Extra:

      “And on we go to the third match of the second round!!” Present Mic-sensei crowed to the roar of the crowd. “Two frontrunners of the festival from the very start, please welcome to the stage Todoroki Shouto and Bakugou Katsuki!!”

     Todoroki Shouto barely even heard the screaming that filled the stadium. He was too busy fuming, glowering at his equally-furious opponent as they approached one another from opposite sides of the stadium. 

      That bastard, Shouto growled internally, remembering how they had clashed earlier in the day. He had expected Bakugou to rise to his challenge--the crass blonde had a competitive streak the size of Mount Fuji--but the snort that had exited Bakuou’s mouth? The disbelieving look? The things he had said?

      ‘A declaration of war? Don’t make me laugh. You can’t seriously expect to take first place when you’re literally half-assing it.’

     Shouto just barely resisted the urge to grind his teeth. He’d only been incensed further during the other boy’s ‘opening speech’; it had clearly been directed at him: ‘I just wanna say, you’d better fight like you mean it, giving it one hundred percent. Otherwise, you don’t deserve to be here.’

     Shouto would show him. He didn’t need his father’s stupid quirk to beat that self-righteous bastard. He would become a hero without relying on that monster’s power. 

      “Ready~?” Midnight-sensei called, and Shouto was suddenly brought back to the present. He didn’t waste time berating himself, just flexed his hands in preparation for-

      “Begin!!”

     Shouto instantly dropped into a crouch, his right hand pressing to the floor, producing a massive glacier that blasted forward and overwhelmed the opposite side of the arena. Shouto breathed out a fine mist, his lips curling into a thin smirk. After all that talk, Bakugou really was all bark and no-

      Boom.

     It was faint, but it was enough for Shouto to hesitate, suddenly realizing that Midnight hadn’t actually called the match yet. 

     Boom!

     The ice-wielder rose to his feet, carefully adopting a fighting stance.

      BOOM! BANG!! CRACK!!!

     All at once the front of the glacier shattered, revealing a panting, but still standing Bakugou, his face set in a ferocious snarl. Before Shouto could send another wave of ice his way, the boy launched forward with dual explosions, roaring, “The more overpowered the quirk, the more imprecise it is, dumbass!” 

     Shouto raised his hand to counterattack, only to flinch in surprise when Bakugou twisted out of the way with another explosion, seized his left arm, and used the resulting momentum to fling him towards the out-of-bounds line, shouting at the top of his lungs, “Especially when you only use half of it!!!”

     Shouto snarled softly, sweeping his hand to form an ice wall in midair and use it to surf back to the center of the stage, trying to shove thoughts of Bakugou’s disdain to the back of his mind. He was too distracted; he needed to focus if he was going to face Bakugou head-on once more. The blonde was ready to meet him the moment he reached his feet, blasting forward and, once again, catching Shouto’s left arm, this time setting his base and throwing him over his shoulder in a judo flip. Shouto quickly formed a thin sheet of ice under him so that he skid smoothly across it rather than tumble across concrete. The force of the blow winded him though, so it was only by adrenaline that he managed to suck in air and struggle to his feet.

     “Come on, Icyhot!! If you have no intention of winning, then why the hell are you here at all?!” Bakugou screamed now, explosions crackling across his palms, nearly drowning out his voice.

     Shouto snarled, all of his emotions and frustrations rising to the forefront of his mind. “You just shut the hell up!” he growled. “Don’t pretend to know what the hell you’re talking about! Of course I intend to win. Dammit, I am going to win!” His eye snapped up, channeling all of his frustration and anger into his glare. “I refuse to rely on his power!! I’ll become a better hero than he ever was, and I’ll do it without that bastard’s goddamn quirk!” 

     Bakugou’s face was strangely blank at Shouto’s impassioned declaration, his red eyes searching the boy’s face, something in their depths calculating, almost clinical, until they abruptly widened as something seemed to click. 

     Then he started laughing. 

     It was… cold, grim, almost… understanding? It was the kind of laugh that might belong to a retired soldier, the kind of laugh that spoke not of amusement or joy, but of regret and pain. When Bakugou opened his eyes again, he smiled, and it was not the fierce and determined smile that Shouto had come to associate with his classmate, but dark, full of grief and pain and disgust, like the one Touya wore in the few memories Shouto had of him. 

     “So that’s how it is, huh?” Bakugou said quietly. “Guess I shoulda known; no one’s that arrogant by choice. Still, you really are an idiot if you think that gives you an excuse.”

     “What are you-?”

     “You seriously think that you’re the only one with a dirty secret?” the blond boy scoffed, that cold smile twisting into a sneer. “Dumbass. Believe me Half’n’Half, if anyone gets having issues with their own quirk, it’d be me. But I… I refuse to let my past control my future!”

     Shouto’s breath stuttered.

      My past…

͍͔͓͕͟ͅ ̻̱͎ ͚̞͚̳̩̹ ̶͔̗͕̯‘̪̲̗̗͉-̵̯̙͚l͍̩̤͙̠̦͈oo̫̩̠͕̹͖k̩͔͘ ̞m̰͎̮͠o͞r͙̦͇͕e̷͓͕̯̠ ̪͓̰̩l͍̼͔̤̣̝̖͟i͓̟͍k̬̜͔̠e̟̬ ̨̰͎̭̩ṱ͓̯̺̖̬h̟͉̟̞͓e̛̳̮͔i͇̻̩̙̦͎͔r̜̬ ̱̬͡f̦̹̪̭͕̥ͅa̢t̵̗̭̳̘̥͖͕h͈͍͢e͎̟̦r̫̺̻̺̘-̬̤͡’̷̦͙̹̘͔̯

̭̱̼͙̼ͅ ̧͇͉̳ ̫̺̠̘̝̳͢ ͔̼̱͍͕̫͕͠ ̷̰̱̠͓ ̪̩‘̪-̰̦͡ͅg͙e̷t̸̟̮ ̼̥̪̙̤u̡p̤̼̖̲ͅ,̢͓̦̘ ͜S͙͎̺̘͖͘h͚̲̱͕̥o̧̩̦̩̜̭͈ͅu̻̞͡t̸͙͇̲̤͎o̜̲̜̝̮̞͠-̴̤̹̹͔̫’̡̹̻̤͎͖

̮̱̹͘ ̘͢ ̵ ̦̭̩̫͎͜ ̪̝̳ ̶̲‘͕-͍b͚̯̠̤u͏͎͎t͏̙͇̣̯͎̜͖ ̛̯̗h͎̳̞̞̩o̤͉̗n̫̗͔͚̖e͈͈̬͎̬͕̟y̞̺͍͔͖̩̺-̰͉̕’͓͚̝̠͓͞

̛̝̱ ̼̝̪͇͔ ̩̘̯̭̫͔ ͉͖͍ͅ ҉̜̤̙͇̣͕̞‘-̦o̸͓͈n̥̼ḽ͙̖̼͠ͅy͉̩̜̦͚̯̝ f͔̭̘͝i̛̗͓̳͉v̹̰̮̗̰e̫ ͈̲͎y̫̦̮͎͓͚ͅẹ̹̺̗̭̟̻a̛̬̻r̶͉̺s ͡o͓̮̕l͘ͅd̷̪̬̟͇̪͖̦-҉̮͕̹̝̤’҉̜͎̺͍͈

     ‘-unbearable-’

͙̯̪̤̪̝ ̴͇ ̴͇̟̠̺̣̼͘͢ ̸̫̥͉ ͏͕̼̬͘‘̵̥̟̙̱͙͍͓ͅ-͍̪̘̹͙̬͓̰͡y̸͍̥̭͎̻̞̺̼̗͟o̴͘҉̮̳̖̱u̹͙̞͜͜͟ ̙͙̣̥̣̬͝d̡̛̻̻͚ͅo̼̼̣̗̪ͅ ̵̨̫͟w̶͔͉̻a̴̴̸͖̮͙̝͔n̢͢͏̜͓̤̺͉t͓̙̖̕͢-̧̮̞͙̝’̢̭͓̥̥̟̮͓̝̠͢

̡̫ ̵̠͉̬̯̞̰͝ ̝̼̤͘ ͉͔̘̻̱̯͉̙ ̹̩̞͈̼ ̩̝̰̦͍̥͔̼͘‘̨̬͇̩̘̻̳̫̖-̭͓ͅm̻̭a̩͇̯͝s̸̷͖̲̯͍t͏̖͟͜e̶̯͖̟̗̖͙̫̯̕r͍͚͔͞p̗i͏̵̴̦̞̬̩̖̜ͅe̷̻̞c̮̥̥̗̤͖̖͉͡͠e̛͏̫͎̦̭͔̲͚-̴̵̲͖̦͎̘̫’͎̺̥͇̠̕ͅ

͏͎̫͇ͅͅ ̷̛̙͍̰ͅ ̪͝ ̨̺͙̪̼ ͏̵͚̞̫̥ ̡͕͓̼͜‘̞͘-̘̗̯̠͕̖̘͍̼͘T͏̣̘̹̰̟̟̜͉o͇̙͔̝͍̗̫͘͜ṳ͔̣̹ͅy̟̰̝̗̗̥͓̦a̳̪͔̬?͔̫͚̟̗͕̲̲-̺͖̗͡’̛̜̯̗̻̞̕͝

͏̤̲͎͚̦͉ ̸̳̟̗͙͎ ̡̖̳̙̘̝̣̯͡ ̸̘̻̳͙ ͇̝̰̬͇̹̪̲ ̼̦͎̥̫‘̢̧̢̼͈ͅ-̥̰̬̭̟͈t̹̫̫͙̥͖̺͞ͅo̟̰̭̰̘͠͝ ҉̤͈̥̼͜ḅ̛̻͍͔̯e҉͈̬̥ ̢̢̼͈͖͓̹̰͠ͅa̛̱̳̳̹̮̫͔̯ ̲̣͍͙͇̦h̸̸̘e̞̩͖̳̪̲̯r̡̗͈̺͎͇ͅo̧͕̱̠͇͟-͇͙͕̼̗͘’̙̰̩͈̱͕̻̹͘

̷҉͖̙

̪͋͑ ̗̪̘͓̫̪̙ͤ͑̋̀͑͟͝ͅ ̶̤̪̦̮̤̰͛͒̑́ ̴̨̠̫ͧ̅͂͛͐ ̸̧̦ͭ͂̈ͬͭ̿̈͠‘̗̼͉͎̰̝̪̜̞̌̋̍ͭͭ̎͋͛-ͤ̊̾҉̮c̡͔͙͚̤ͩ̋͑͘ă̏̍̓̑̅̇͏͎̺̪n͓̫̝̮̓͌̎ͣ̽̂͞’̴̛̞̲̻͉̫̻̅̇̈ͯͮ͒ͅt̩̮̼̟̭̗ͨ̈̅͡ ̵͓̳̻̖͕̜͉̀ͩ͋̽͊ṭ̴̵͓̒̈́ͧ̈́̄ͩ̐a̵̵̡̼̟̯̘̗͑̃̀ͦͬ͐͗k͇̼͇͚͐ͮ̔ͭ̈͆̎͆ͪ͝eͬͥ͐͋̎ͪ̀͏̮̟̤͓ͅ ̜̦̩͍ͪ̇̿͌̎͜ͅţ͖̟̮͕̭͓̮͔͓͗̅̓͛͌̄̉ḥ̶͍̗͈͉̻̘ͯ͟i͗̽͛ͥ̀̄ͨ҉̛̖͙̳͚̖̥s̟̩̭̮͖̜̈́͊ͦͭ͊ͨ̈̓̚͟-͈͇͓̾̎ͦͫ̋̔͟ͅ’̢̞̪̣̫̖͛͛ͧ̂͗͢͟

͉̪̘̗̖̰̹͌̽͊ͣ͊̿͜ͅ ̝͕̟͖̂͘ ̰̭̳̥̪̇ͦ͘ ̴͔̳̼̥̱͆̉ͤ͟ ̧͔͔̩͇̗̩̲̈̑̂ͤ͗̀͐̓͘ ̻͍̥̰͕̩͗̑͒͛ͅ‘̸̭̘̞̦͊ͤͅ-̼͚̪̺͎̳̗̱ͬ͐̽͂̑̀͑̍͢͝g̬̈̈͆͘͢ơ̝̙̹͉͖̗ͪ̇͜ȋ̞̲̪̲̙̥̯͇ͣ̉͝n̷̢͎̺̲̟̐͗̂g̨̺͍̱̰͔͍̭͔ͫ͛͗͐ͬ̈ͬ̕ ͍͇̲̖̟̼̅̄͘i̹̠̰ͧͫn̬̮̘͙̼ͫͭ͑̍͋͋ͫ̊ͦs̸̝̙̙̗̼̠̺̘ͯ͆̃͆ͦ̅ă̘̄ͣ̔n̛̖̼̾̈́ͥ͆̍ͧȇ̵ͩͥͤ͑̒҉̮-̮̮͍͐́̓̕’͓̖̼̥̺̐̅̄͋

̧̹́́̉ ͉̘̤͍͕͍ͬ̿̅ ͙͓͙̯͚̹̼̣̇̓ͫ̈́̍͢͝ ̡̺͖̟̰̬̪̝̜ͬ̅͗͐ͭ ̧̝͔͙͚̽ͤͬͬ́̋̔̾͘͞ ͚ͧ͋̾̽̓͡ͅ‘̅̍̈͊̆ͧ͡͏̦̠̱͚̞-̸̸ͭ̓ͬ҉̲̼̦̜ḏ̲̬͓̝͈͖̗̽ͯ͛̓͌̄̃ō̡̍̌̔͋ͫ҉̲n̴̹̳̤͙̒ͪ̿͢ͅͅ’̨̘̪̠͔̃̉̂͘ṯ̵̶͕̜̬̟̍̈́͗͝ ͈̠̱̮̩̩̳̗̾̉̌y̛̟̝̯ͫ̾͛ͮͩ͆ͬ̚o̖̐ͮ́̿̀̃̈́̚͜u̧̡͕ͨ͊ͮ͞?͙͐̊͜’̶̹̝̫̯̩̣͑̉͊ͦ́ͩ͟

     Bakugou was only a meter away.

     When had he-?!

     “HOWITZER IMPACT!!”

     The explosion that Bakugou managed to produce in that instant shook the entire stadium.

     His vision flashed white with the intensity of it.

     Heat swept away the numbing cold.

     His stomach swooped.

     He… couldn’t hear.

     An impact.

     Did… 

     Starburst.

     … I…

     Darkness.

      …lose?

Chapter Text

     A failure.

     He was a failure.

     The thought stung. Bitterly. 

     He’d lost. Hell, he hadn’t even made it onto the podium.

     He knew he shouldn’t let it stop him. Shouldn’t let it shake his resolve. But he couldn't get it out of his head. 

     He couldn't get Bakugou's words out of his head. 

      ‘A declaration of war? Don’t make me laugh. You can’t seriously expect to take first place when you’re literally half-assing it. ’

      That’s not it, Shouto thought fiercely. That’s not. It.

     But maybe that was it. Maybe he really was making a mistake.

      ‘You seriously think that you’re the only one with a dirty secret? Dumbass. Believe me Half’n’Half, if anyone gets having issues with their own quirk, it’d be me. But I…’

     “Shouto?” a soft voice murmured. 

     He flinched, and the hand that he’d sensed near his arm drew back. Blinking away his thoughts, Shouto lifted his head to meet Fuyumi-nee’s dark gray eyes. “Are you okay?” she murmured worriedly. 

     Shouto shrugged absently, taking a bite of his soba to conceal the wince of pain that the movement caused--his right shoulder throbbed angrily from the burn that his father had inflicted. 

     Apparently, his poor performance in the Festival meant that he’d needed an extra training session, despite the fact that he was already fatigued and dehydrated. He was almost grateful that he’d passed out in the middle of it. It meant that he’d woken up with bruises that he hadn’t been able to defend against, but at least he didn’t have any more burns than the one. But, it also meant that he was barely getting dinner despite it being almost 22:00, seeing as he hadn't woken up until nearly 21:30. 

     “Shouto,” Fuyumi-nee began cautiously, “you know you can tell me anything, right? I may not know what happened at the Festival, but if… If anything is bothering you, you know I’m here for you?”

     Shouto knew the unspoken sentiment in those words. I’m here for you not for father. Still, he only nodded, taking another bite of food so that he wouldn’t have to speak. Fuyumi-nee was the best sister that Shouto could possibly ask for, but she couldn’t help him with this. She couldn’t possibly understand this strange feeling of conflict.

      I have to prove that I’m stronger than him.

     I’m not strong enough.

     Half your effort.

     Abruptly, Shouto set his chopsticks aside and rose to his feet.

     “I’m going to take a walk,” he announced quietly, turning away.

     “O-Okay. I’ll… put your food in the fridge, in case you want it later.”

     Shouto raised a hand in acknowledgement, continuing on his way outside. 

      It’s a good thing father already left, Shouto thought absently. If he saw me wandering the grounds, he’d try to drag me back into the dojo.

     But father wasn’t home, so he was free to wander into the spacious garden behind the house, hands shoved deeply into his pockets, shoving all thoughts of Bakugou Katsuki and his dismal performance at the Sports Festival into the back of his mind. 

     Before too much longer, Shouto had reached his destination: a small bench beside the koi pond, where he could sit and brood as he stared down at the water, undisturbed by anyone or anything. 

     At least, that had been the plan.

     “Well well. It says here that Endeavor’s off fighting a crime on the other side of Tokyo. I suppose that means daddy’s out for the night?”

     Shouto leapt to his feet, whirling around in shock at the sound of the quiet voice, ice already bristling along the length of his right arm. 

     A boy stood behind him, casually leaning against the maple tree, dressed in skintight black body armor, black boots, and a black leather jacket with no hood. He held a smart phone in one hand, likely open to some kind of news article or hero forum, the whitish light close enough to his face to spotlight a small, careless smile, utterly unbothered by Shouto's threatening posture.

     But more importantly, it illuminated his curly, dark green hair, freckled cheeks, and vibrant green eyes that almost seemed to glow in the darkness.

     Deku.

     “What the hell are you doing here?” Shouto growled, his thoughts racing. 

     This was bad. Really bad. He was still exhausted from the Sports Festival--not to mention his father’s extra training session--and still fighting the aftereffects of dehydration, mild hypothermia, and frostbite. He hadn’t been able to witness Deku’s combat style at the USJ, but he knew that he’d managed to hold his own against Aizawa-sensei in a one-on-one fight, so that had to mean something. Not to mention, the guy had been quirkless when Bakugou knew him, so if the rumors were true and he did have a quirk now, then Shouto had no idea what it was. One thing was for sure, though: this guy was powerful enough to be a leader among the League of Villains, despite his youth. 

     In his current state, Shouto wasn't certain if he could beat him. 

     Could he call for help? But his phone was inside. He could yell for Fuyumi-nee, but that would put her in danger. 

     Oh God, was she already in danger?!

     “Calm down, Shouto,” Deku laughed gently, somehow reading the flash of panic in his deadpan expression, and it did indeed sound gentle, like this boy didn't have a care in the world. Like he was just a regular kid meeting a friend and not a wanted criminal strolling through the backyard of the number two hero!! “I just want to talk.”

     “What the hell would someone like you have to say to someone like me?”

     “So harsh,” Deku sighed, his smile twisting into a pout, as though genuinely hurt by the other boy's words. “If you gave me a chance, you might see that you and I are more alike than you might think.”

     “I am nothing like you!!”

     The ice streamed forward. Shouto hadn't meant to attack, but it seemed to happen almost without his conscious direction, rushing towards the villain, prepared to encase him in an instant. 

     Only it never reached him. 

     Shouto flinched, eyes wide in shock as his miniature glacier shattered, sending tiny shards of ice flying in all directions, glittering like snow in the moonlight. ('The more overpowered the quirk, the more imprecise it is, dumbass! Especially when you only use half of it!!!') Deku stood unharmed where the ice had been, one arm extended as though he'd just thrown a punch--There isn't even blood where he should have made contact; was the wind pressure from his punch enough to stop my attack? But then shouldn't I have felt something? Does he have some sort of hardening quirk to prevent any injury? But could such a simple quirk honestly generate enough power to shatter my ice?--his green eyes burning, shaking his head sadly. 

     “Too predictable, Shouto," the villain sighed. “And anyway, you really shouldn't push yourself so much. I'm sure that you must be exhausted from the Sports Festival.”

    “Shut up!” Shouto hissed, even though Deku wasn't wrong. He was already starting to shiver; normally that wouldn't happen for several minutes at least. “You don’t know anything about what I’m capable of!” Shouto snarled, sending another blast towards him, this one a little bit more regulated, a little less fueled by anger. A little less draining on his depleted stamina and a little bit slower in the hopes of seeing exactly how Deku had managed to shatter the ice before. If he could understand the other teen's quirk, then he could beat him.

     But this time, the green-haired boy simply dodged the attack, moving with absurd speed and dexterity as he performed an artful back handspring to launch himself out of the way at the last moment. A quirk that grants the user both increased strength and speed? Some kind of enhancer quirk then? It's definitely an emitter either way, but is it just limited to his person or can it be externally manifested somehow?  

     “So we're going to be cliche and do the whole ‘monologue during an intense battle’ thing?” Deku sighed. “Very well, I suppose I can roll with that. You're right, Shouto. I don't know you. But I do know quirks.”

     “What’s that supposed to mean?” His breath came as a wave of mist. He was still shivering. Badly. He couldn’t keep attacking wildly. Keep him talking. Figure out whatever you can. If he’s proud of his analysis skills then he might get careless, maybe use his own quirk as an example.

     “It means I can’t understand why a future hero would cripple himself to such an extent.”

     Shouto blinked. That was not what he was expecting. “What do you mean? Heroes should always push themselves to their limits.” Why shouldn’t he push his ice to its limit, whether or not it was destroying him?

     Deku quirked an eyebrow at him, his expression skeptical. “Hypocritical much? Every potentially self-harming quirk has either a limiter or a compensator. In your case, you’re supposed to have a compensator--fire to counter your ice--but instead you’re forcing your quirk to accept a limiter. You’re not reaching your full potential.”

     Shouto felt a familiar defensiveness bristling inside him for the second time that day. That was different. 

     ‘Don’t make me laugh.’ 

     He grit his teeth, raising his frost-covered right hand. He could fight without his father’s damn-

     “Tell me, Shouto: do you enjoy giving your father this much control over you?”

     Shouto stiffened. "He doesn't control me!" he snapped automatically, but his thoughts were spinning wildly. How did he know?

     “Doesn't he?” the villain chuckled, a cold smile suddenly curling his lips as he stepped forward, “So, would you use your fire, right here, right now, if it was the only thing that could save your sister?”

     “You stay the hell away from her!!”

     The glacier that burst out of him was even bigger than the first one he’d thrown, fueled by rage and panic and-

     And Shouto was on his knees, gasping for breath, his entire body shivering violently. Much longer, and the tremors would cease as hypothermia really set in, making his body too exhausted even to try and warm itself up. He forced himself to raise his head, hoping against hope that it had been enough. 

     “See, now this is interesting.” 

     His hope vanished in an instant. Deku was standing atop the wall. How he’d gotten up there and how he remained balanced was anyone’s guess, but he hardly even seemed flustered by the elemental user’s attack. 

     “You’re clearly not your father. You seem determined to protect people, even at the risk of your own health and safety. So why do you insist on playing into his hands? Why are you acting just like him?”  

      “Shut up; just shut up! I'm not like him; you can't possibly understand!”

      ‘You’re literally half-assing it.’

     “Can't I? You were probably isolated as a child. Those that might have-- should have--been close to you were discouraged by a much more powerful, dangerous presence that kept them at bay. You were judged harshly because of your power. People either expected too much of you, or too little. You were terrified of what you may grow to become, and so you chose to reject an important part of yourself--a part of yourself that you believed would destroy lives.” 

     ‘You seriously think you’re the only one with a dirty secret?’

     “Am I wrong?”

     The hypothermia was really setting in now. Shouto hoped that he wasn’t hyperventilating too obviously, automatically fighting to compensate for the slowed breathing. “How the hell could you possibly know that?” he hissed, desperately clinging to consciousness, hating how the words slurred together as he increasingly lost brain and body function.

     Deku smiled as he walked towards him again, but this time, the expression seemed almost sad. “Like I said,” he began quietly, “You and I are two of a kind.”

     “No we’re not!” Shouto yelled, shaking his head, clenching his eyes shut “You don’t know anything! I refuse to use that bastard’s quirk! I refuse to rely on his power!”

     "It’s not his quirk, Shouto," Deku countered sharply. "It’s yours. And in case you haven't noticed, you can't really afford to keep fighting with only half your strength. You haven't laid so much as a scratch on me yet. What happens when you face an enemy that actually intends to kill you? What will happen to your sister now that you're helpless?"

     A hand suddenly gripped his shoulder, sending Shouto's head snapping up, his eyes flying open, wide in shock and (although he would never admit it) a bit of fear as he stared into burning, emerald pools.

     "A hero more concerned with a petty vendetta than saving lives sounds just like Endeavor to me. Is that the kind of hero that can change anything? Is that the kind of hero your mother would have wanted you to become?"

     He couldn't breathe.

      ‘Decide who you want to become, and be all you can be.’

     His heartbeat pounded in his ears.

     "You don't have to be him, Shouto. It's your power. Your choice."

     Emerald eyes bored into his soul.

      'You are not bound by his blood.'

     The world stopped.

     And flames exploded from his left side.

     It felt strange, the amount of heat washing through his entire body, biting through the chill and numbness, melting the frost in an instant. His entire body seemed to thrum with the foreign and yet familiar sensation, and it seemed that for the first time in his life, he could see things clearly.

     Deku’s eyes were wide with shock and something very like wonder as he stumbled back, the brilliant lights almost dancing in his eyes as a slow smile extended across his face. “Amazing,” he whispered, barely audible over the roar of the flames. 

     “Why are you smiling,” Shouto questioned as he slowly rose to his feet, adrenaline pulsing through his entire body. A part of him was disgusted with himself, but he couldn't deny a small feeling of satisfaction at that flash of shock. “You’ve just helped your enemy. How is that smart?”

     Deku seemed startled for a moment as he turned to meet the other teen’s eyes, then his grin stretched even wider as he replied, “I told you already. You and I are more alike than you might think.”

     “Say whatever helps you sleep at night. Just don’t blame me for what happens next.”

     Shouto channeled all of his remaining strength into his quirk. He could already feel the exhaustion threatening to drop him--a combination of hypothermia and dehydration and who knew what else--as ice coalesced at his right foot and he raised his blazing left hand. 

     Just for a moment, Deku’s grin seemed to falter, his eyes flicking past Shouto and growing wide for a brief instant before determination overtook his expression and his eyes blazed a radioactive shade of green.

     The flames roared forward at the same time as the ice. The reflective nature of the glacier, the searing light of the flames and the comparative darkness surrounding them were a blinding combination, causing stars to leap across Shouto’s field of vision the instant before a massive explosion rocked the entire estate, sending him skidding backwards several meters before he managed to make a small blockade of ice to keep him from falling.

     Lights were still flashing in his eyes when suddenly everything seemed to blur and Shouto felt himself sway.

      Oh no.

     The world spun and darkness rushed to meet him before he could beat it back.

.oOo.

     “Shouto!”

     Gray eyes. 

     Mother’s eyes. 

     “Shouto, can you hear me?!”

      What… happened…? There was… fire…?

     All at once, Shouto lurched upright, groaning at the rush of blood to his head that threatened to instantly drop him all over again.

     “Shouto! You shouldn’t be moving yet; lie back down!” Fuyumi-nee cried, grabbing his shoulders.

     “Where is he?” the heterochromatic boy gasped.

     “Wh-Where is who?”

     “Deku! He’s here!” Shouto snapped back, trying to push past her, desperately searching for the danger that had threatened his sister.  

     “D-Deku?” Fuyumi-nee squeaked in surprise, glancing around them with a flash of terror crossing her face before she relaxed. “Shouto, nobody’s here. At least, not anymore. You beat him. He’s gone. Honestly, given the force of that explosion, I'm surprised that the house isn't gone.”

     Shouto stared at her, uncomprehending for a long moment before he twisted to survey the aftermath of his battle, a little stunned by the sight before him. 

     All the ice save the chunk he’d used as an anchor and a small section of the massive glacier that he had created when Fuyumi-nee was first threatened had apparently been vaporized, along with the pond. The lawn was streaked with swaths of blackened stubble that had once been grass--there was even a small strip of sand in the rock garden that had been fused into glass. Part of the wall surrounding the property had been blown away, the debris scattered across their neighbor’s lawn. 

     Deku had vanished. 

     The silence left in his wake was palpable, and in that silence, Todoroki Shouto found himself trembling. His breathing was quickening, something like panic building in his chest, along with anger, disgust, even horror. He’d sworn that he would never use that power, never desecrate his mother's memory in that way. 

     “Shouto. Shouto! Shouto, breathe with me!” Fuyumi-nee’s voice called, soft and urgent. Slowly, Shouto managed to calm down, setting his panic aside to be addressed at a later moment because, as much as he hated to admit it, Deku had had a point. It was obvious that if the villain had wanted to, he could have destroyed both Shouto and his sister. It was possible that he would have if he hadn't activated his fire when he did. He didn't want this power even now, but… 

      But the power that drove Mother away… may have saved Fuyumi-nee's life.

     It was an emotional paradox that he wasn’t yet willing to face, and Shouto wasn't really sure what it would mean going forward. All that he knew for certain was that this was some sort of start line. Whether it was the start of something better or worse was a question for tomorrow.

     “Shouto… What happened?” Fuyumi-nee whispered, her gray eyes dark with worry. 

     “I used his fire.”

     Fuyumi-nee’s eyes blew wide. “You… what?”

     “I used... my fire,” Shouto said, slowly curling his left hand into a fist. 

     “…Why?”

     Her voice didn’t seem accusatory, just perplexed. Shouto sighed, dropping his hand once again as he stared into the night. “I couldn’t beat him without it,” he whispered. “I couldn’t protect you without it. I couldn’t… do anything-”

     Fuyumi-nee gently gripped his hand, silencing the beginnings of another spiral. There was a small smile curling her mouth as she pulled him into a gentle hug. Shouto felt himself stiffen, like he usually did when she showed him this kind of physical affection, but slowly he relaxed into it. “I’m proud of you,” she whispered, and the young hero-in-training felt something clench in his chest, pulling at the back of his throat. “Now let’s get you inside; you must be exhausted. Not to mention, we should probably call the police.”

     “Right.” Honestly, he was a little surprised that nobody had called the police already, but considering the intensity of some of his and Endeavor’s training sessions, he maybe shouldn’t be.

     Shouto’s head was pounding, and he was definitely a bit unsteady on his feet as Fuyumi-nee helped him straighten up and start heading towards the mansion, but with her support he managed it.

     “Oh, you dropped this, by the way,” his sister added, pressing something into his hand. 

     “What’s this?” Shouto frowned at it, bewildered beyond belief. It appeared to be a nondescript black thumb drive, tucked in a small plastic bag with a yellow post-it note.

     “I found it next to you when I ran out of the house,” Fuyumi-nee replied, adopting a frown of her own. “I’d assumed it was yours.”

     Curious, Shouto flipped the bag over, revealing a short note written on the post-it.

     His breath hitched sharply.

     “Shouto?” Fuyumi-nee frowned, leaning over his shoulder to read the message as well. He heard her gasp too and knew that he hadn’t simply imagined it.

      To Shou-chan, love Tou-niichan.

     “That… Is that possible?” his sister whispered, wide-eyed.

     Shouto didn’t answer. He couldn’t, not past that something clenching in his chest again, reminding him of warm arms and empathetic words. Something that sent him stumbling inside to his laptop. He knew it was a terrible idea, knew that this was probably some kind of trick, but in the moment it didn’t seem to matter. Shouto plugged in the drive, and pulled up dozens of files.

     Files neatly organized and labeled according to every crime that Endeavor had ever committed.

     “Oh my God,” Fuyumi-nee whispered next to him. He almost startled at the sound of her voice; he hadn’t realized that she’d been peering over his shoulder. It was about then that he noticed a glass of water on the desk next to him as well, one that she’d obviously brought to him. At the moment though, her eyes were wide and one hand covered her mouth while the other clutched her cell phone in a white-knuckled grip. 

     Right, the police. 

     Shouto considered telling Fuyumi-nee to step out and make the call as he picked up the glass and took a long sip from it. He knew that she’d leave without complaint--father had long conditioned her to obey orders, whether either of them consciously realized it or not. But honestly, he didn’t think that he wanted any law enforcement interrupting him while he went through these files. And anyway, his sister had a right to see this as well.

     Shouto scrolled through literal gigabytes of legal documents and security footage, pausing whenever he or Fuyumi-nee found one that caught their eye. Every single file was labeled by date and crime, from dozens of incidents of excessive violence, use of quirk without probable cause, civilian injury coverups, and--Shouto’s breath hitched again--all of the documents related to their mother’s veritable incarceration in the hospital. That file in particular was accompanied by dozens of malpractice notes, from all of the under-the-table dealings surrounding her admission to the psychiatric ward to the number of times she was deemed sane enough to return home and was still forcibly kept in the hospital at Endeavor’s insistence. 

     And there, at the very end, was a small video file, not labeled like the other ones, but instead bearing the simple words to Shouto.

     Shouto didn’t even hesitate before he opened it and hit 'play'.

     The screen opened to reveal a small room, a blank wall, and a familiar figure stepping into the view of the camera, smiling faintly as he sat down on a chair too low for him to see. 

     “Hey, bro,” he said softly.

     Fuyumi-nee gasped.

     Shouto might have as well.

     He looked different from before. Older. More tired. Not to mention that he’d dyed his hair black and one side of his face and neck was covered in tight, shiny red skin that extended below the collar of his shirt. But his eyes were still just as blue as he remembered, his voice just as gentle.

     That something from earlier gripped Shouto’s heart again. 

      “I… Well… This is awkward,” the camera-filtered voice sighed. “I had this whole speech planned out, but now that I’m here, I can’t remember any of it. I guess… Well, I bet you’re pretty confused right now. I did just… disappear that night. At the time, I didn’t really feel like I had a choice. Even so… I’m sorry that I left you behind. I may have been hurt, but I shouldn’t have abandoned you.

     “That being said, it looks like you’ve been doing well. UA. Pretty awesome. I bet you still aren’t using your fire, though. I understand that, believe me, but… just remember that you aren’t him, yeah? Remember what Mom told you back then. You can use those flames any way you want. You can use them to protect instead of destroy. You… Oh God, that sounded so cheesy,” he huffed, running a hand through his hair as he looked away from the camera and Shouto caught the briefest glimpse of his red-and-white roots.

     Shouto felt something pulling at his mouth. Something happy, but also sad. He startled when something landed on his hand. He glanced down. There was a drop of water there. Where had that come from? He glanced to the side. Fuyumi-nee’s eyes were wet, but he couldn’t see any lines on her cheeks as she pressed her hand over her mouth, and anyway, she was too far away from him.

      “Well anyway, I don’t have a lot more time. Whatever you do with the files on this drive is your decision. I don't know if it's enough to get that bastard in jail, but at the very least, there’s enough here to get you and Mom as far away from Endeavor as is legally possible. You don't have to decide right way, though. Maybe talk it over with Yumi-chan and Natsu-chan. One way or another, don’t let him find the drive, okay? I have a backup, but I don’t wanna risk him taking this out on you. Just… Just be safe, yeah? And… And if you see Mom anytime soon…” he paused, looking away, rubbing the back of his neck and swallowing hard. “Tell her I love her,” he murmured finally, still not looking at the camera. “I… I have to go now, but I’ll see you again, Shou-chan.” He looked up, blue eyes piercing, certain. “That’s a promise.”

     The video ended there. More water had fallen on Shouto’s arms. He’d finally realized that it was coming from his eyes. It was strange. He hadn’t cried since… Actually, he couldn’t remember how long it had been. Was it when Mom was admitted to the hospital? He didn’t know. It was a strange thing to realize. 

     “I can’t believe it,” Fuyumi-nee whispered, jolting him back to the present. “Touya…”

     “He’s alive,” Shouto murmured. “He’s alive and… And Deku…” And Deku just… knew somehow?

     The thought struck him unbidden, and it was immediately obvious that it had only just occurred to Fuyumi-nee as well. Surprise flickered across her face, followed by a thoughtful gleam tinged with worry. “How… How did he get his hands on this drive? For that matter, how would he have known to give it to you?” she murmured. “Does he know Touya somehow? Are they… conspiring in some way?”

     Fear suddenly curled in Shouto’s heart.

     “Is this… some kind of trick?” he frowned, his thoughts spinning. Was Touya even real? Maybe he was just the result of a quirk. A way to get into Shouto’s head. Touya had been missing for almost ten years; they’d all assumed that he was dead. 

     “But, if this is a trick, then what’s in it for Deku? For the League?”

     Okay, he had to think.

     “If… If the world were to realize the scumbag that Endeavor truly is, what impact would that have upon society?”

     “Shouto, you shouldn’t…” Fuyumi-nee began automatically, but paused and sighed deeply when her younger brother gave her a pointed look. “Well, the number two hero in Japan would suddenly go from a dislikable person but an effective hero to an abuser pretending to be a hero,” she admitted.

     “And how would that shake the foundations of hero society? How would that affect the influence of the League of Villains, who have openly declared war on heroes and hero society as a whole?” Shouto prompted, even as he realized the answer himself.

     “Their war against society would suddenly seem to have a lot more merit,” Fuyumi-nee whispered, something like horror entering her eyes as she put the pieces together.

     And God, Shouto was horrified, too. He had almost been taken in, blinded by his excitement that he finally had proof against that bastard, excited by the prospect of escaping him. 

     Excited to see Touya again.

     That thought made him hesitate before he could click ‘delete’. 

     Touya had said that it was up to him. That he could decide how to use the information in the drive. That it could get Mom away from Endeavor’s influence. 

     Not to mention, how could a quirk possibly know Touya's old nicknames for Fuyumi-nee and Natsuo-nii?

     “Fuyumi-”

     A knock at the door startled him into silence. Fuyumi-nee shot Shouto an alarmed look that instantly told him she had not been expecting any visitors either before she shot to her feet and hurried out of the room, heading towards the front door. 

     Shouto took a moment to close out of the files and remove the drive from his computer, hiding it in his sock drawer before following her (and taking another long drink from the cup still resting on his desk when the movement of standing up made him sway dangerously again).

     “…forgive me for not calling myself,” Fuyumi-nee was saying as he approached the entryway. “My brother was severely dehydrated when I found him; I thought it was more important to tend to him, first.”

     “That’s alright, I understand,” a vaguely familiar voice responded to her. “Still, I think it would be wise for me to speak to your brother if he’s feeling up to it. Any word on Deku’s movements could help us to track down the League.”

     “I understand.” Fuyumi-nee’s back was in Shouto’s view now, and beyond her he could see someone tall illuminated by the porch light, wearing a long tan coat. “Give me a moment to- Oh! Shouto!” 

     Shouto blinked wordlessly at his sister as she turned, noticing him for the first time. Now that she’d stepped out of the way, he could see the man on the porch clearly, and all at once, he recognized him. “You’re the officer from the USJ,” he said quietly.

     “That’s right,” the policeman nodded, bowing slightly. If he was surprised by Shouto’s strange appearance--sooty face, charred t-shirt and all--then he didn’t show it. “My name is Tsukauchi Naomasa. I’m a detective with the Musutafu Police Department. One of your neighbors called to report that there had been an explosion on your property. Since the call involved a UA student, I was the officer dispatched to look into it. Could you describe what happened?”

     The heterochromatic teen glanced towards his sister, who shrugged helplessly, clearly leaving the decision up to him. “Alright,” Shouto said finally, “but could we sit down? I’m not sure if I can stay standing for long.”

     “Of course,” Tsukauchi nodded with a faint smile while a flash of panic crossed Fuyumi-nee’s face and she hurried towards the kitchen, calling frantic apologies for not getting him more water sooner. 

     Before long, Shouto was seated on the couch in the living room next to his sister, cradling a fresh glass of water in his hands, Tsukauchi facing them and placing what appeared to be a small recording device on the table while prepping a small notepad and pen to take notes. 

     “So, just a few basic questions to start off, would you please state your full name?”

     “Todoroki Shouto.”

     “Age?”

     “Fifteen.”

     “Quirk?”

     “Half-Cold, Half-Hot.”

     “Thank you. Now, Todoroki-kun, what exactly happened leading up to the explosion on your property?”

     “I went outside to get some air and Deku was there. He said that he just wanted to talk, and to be fair I guess that is all he did,” Shouto frowned as he thought of it. Honestly, Deku had never attacked first, just dodged or destroyed his attacks. 

     But that didn’t excuse the villain from threatening his family.

     “What did he want to talk about?”

     “I’m not quite sure. He talked about my quirk, and he kept saying things about how similar the two of us were.”

     “You mean your quirks?”

     “No,” Shouto shook his head, “us, as people. He implied that… that we had been through some similar challenges in our lives, although he never talked directly about himself.”

     “What sorts of challenges?”

     The hero-in-training paused, thinking about the best way to phrase his answer. “Isolation,” he said eventually. “Prejudice. Maybe… fear?” 

     “Fear in what way?”

     “Fear of oneself,” Shouto said, frowning at his left hand. “He said… He said something about rejecting an important part of himself. Something about being afraid that it would hurt other people.”
    “Interesting,” Tsukauchi murmured. “How did you respond?”

     “I… attacked him,” Shouto admitted with a wince. “I didn’t mean to at first, but then he threatened Fuyumi-nee, so…”

     “It’s alright,” the Detective assured him immediately. “Your quirk use was technically restricted to your private property, so you didn’t break any regulations. And even if you had, honestly it probably could have been waived as self-defense. May I ask how Deku responded to your attack?”

     “He never attacked back, if that’s what you mean,” Shouto shrugged, “although he did use his quirk to stop my attacks.”

     “Were you able to see what his quirk was?”

     “I’m not sure. It might have been some kind of enhancer quirk. He managed to completely shatter my ice with a punch at one point. Other times, he just dodged it.”

     “What caused the explosion?”

     “I… don’t know for sure.”

     “What was happening at the time?”

     “I used my fa- my fire and my ice at the same time.”

     “That might have done it,” Tsukauchi murmured to himself. If he noticed Shouto’s odd hesitation, then he didn’t react to it. “Rapid cooling and heating could cause that to happen. What happened then?”

     “I passed out,” he shrugged back. “When I woke up, Fuyumi-nee was with me and Deku was gone.”

     “Strange,” the detective frowned. “May I ask, Todoroki-san, why didn't you react to what was happening sooner?”

     Fuyumi-nee winced. “I thought he had gone to the dojo,” she admitted reluctantly. “He’d been distracted all afternoon, so I thought that maybe he was just blowing off steam. But then I heard that explosion and I realized that something more serious must be happening.”

     “I see.” The detective jotted down a note on his pad. “Todoroki-kun, do you have any idea why Deku might have been targeting you?”

     Shouto frowned again, replaying his strange encounter with the green-haired boy in his mind. Why had Deku shown up? The way he’d been talking, going on about protecting other people and saying how similar they were, it was almost like he was trying to convince him they were on the same side rather than-

     Oh.

     “I think he might have been trying to recruit me.”

     Fuyumi-nee stiffened beside him. Tsukauchi just glanced up at him with a professional frown. “Did he say as much himself?”

     “Not in so many words,” Shouto admitted, “but I can’t come up with another reason for his behavior.”

     “Alright then.” He wrote something else on that pad of his. “In that case, it may be wise if we consider placing police guards on or near your property. If Deku was willing to try once, then he might try again. You might even consider protective custody.”

     Fuyumi-nee and Shouto exchanged looks. “I don’t know if our father would approve of that,” his sister said carefully.

     “Of course I’ll have to speak to him before giving any order,” the detective assured without glancing up from his notepad. “It is technically his property, so we’ll need his consent to place any officers on the premises. However, I believe that it would be safest until we can come up with a better alternative. Also, please understand that I legally have to inform UA of what happened.”

     “Why?” Todoroki frowned.

     “It’s part of the contract your father had to sign when he agreed to send you to school there,” the officer explained, meeting his eyes. “Any assault made against you must be reported to UA so that they know if they need to make extra provisions for your health or safety while you’re in class. In most cases, it’s just applicable when a student gets caught up and injured in a villain attack as a bystander, so the school knows to take it easier during training to avoid further injury, but this wouldn’t be the first time that a student was specifically targeted by a villain. It usually doesn’t require any dramatic changes in your day to day schedule, the school just wants to be informed as a precaution against future attacks.”

     “Oh. Okay then.”

     “Is there anything else that you can tell me?” Tsukauchi asked. Shouto might have shaken his head a little bit too quickly, judging by the barest hint of a frown that passed across the man’s forehead, but he didn’t press the matter. “Very well then. I’ll contact you again tomorrow, after I’ve had a chance to speak with Endeavor.”

     “Thank you, detective.”

     “Just doing my job,” the man smiled, and it seemed genuine as he rose to his feet, putting his hat back on. “Stay safe. Call emergency services immediately if you think he’s come back.”

     “Yes sir.”

     Shouto remained on the couch while his sister followed the officer to the door, leaning against his folded hands and staring at nothing. He wondered why he hadn’t mentioned the drive that Deku had left behind. Maybe… maybe he just wasn’t ready to risk losing Touya again. 

     Not until he knew for sure. 

     “Shouto?”

     He glanced up towards his sister, towards her concerned expression. “You really need to rest. You’ve gotten even paler than you were before. We can decide what to do about that drive in the morning.”

     Shouto nodded absently, downing the last of the water in his cup before rising to his feet and letting his sister lead him down the hall. He was a little bit surprised when she pulled him into her room rather than taking him to his own, something that she picked up on rather quickly.

     “Shouto, I’m not going to leave you alone tonight after what happened,” his sister frowned, the faintest hint of steel entering her eyes. He knew better than to argue with her when she got that look, so he simply nodded and waited patiently while she pulled a spare futon and extra bedding out of her closet, setting it up next to her own. “Sleep well,” she smiled at him. “I still need to finish up my lesson plan for tomorrow, but I’ll be in the living room if you need anything.”

     “Okay. Good night.”

     “Good night.”

     Shouto’s thoughts were sluggish as he lay down, dizzily cycling through everything that he had learned in the last few hours, from Deku’s interest in him to the sensation of his own flames racing over his skin to the message from Touya.

     That’s what he fell asleep thinking about, and when he woke up in the morning, he knew what he needed to do next. 

.oOo.

     “Hello, how may I help you?” the receptionist smiled as he stepped up to the desk at the hospital. 

     “I’m here to visit Todoroki Rei,” Shouto replied quietly, trying to ignore the insistent thrumming of his heart in his chest. 

     He was grateful that they had the rest of the week off from school. He wasn’t certain that he wouldn’t have lost his nerve if he’d had to wait until the weekend. 

     “What is your name?” the woman behind the desk asked, scrolling through something on her computer.

     “Todoroki Shouto.”

     Surprise flashed across the woman’s face, but she quickly concealed it with a smile. “Great! Just give me a moment to fill out the visitor’s registration…”

     It seemed both an eternity and an instant by the time he was given his visitor’s pass and directions to the hospital room. His legs travelled there without much conscious thought, his mind spinning around nothing, and it seemed that he blinked and suddenly he was in front of the door, staring at the plaque inscribed with his mother’s name. 

     Shouto forced himself to breathe. 

      ‘Heroes should always push themselves to their limits.’

     ‘You’re not bound by his blood.’

     ‘Tell Mom I love her.’

      He knocked on the door.

     “Come in,” a tremulous voice called. His hand seemed to move on its own in response, sliding the door open so that he could step inside and close it behind him. 

     Long white hair spilled down her back, standing out in stark contrast to the brown shawl she wore over her equally white hospital scrubs. Her hands were clasped in her lap, long, delicate fingers laced together as though in prayer. Her face was turned away from him, gazing out of the room’s only window, her posture somehow tense and yet almost wistful. 

      ‘There’s enough here to get Mom as far away from Endeavor as possible.’

     Shouto took one last, steadying breath. This was his first step.

     He would rescue her, whatever it took.

     “Hello, Mom.”

Outtake:

     Naomasa groaned softly as he took the driver's seat in his squad car, rolling his shoulders and arching his back as far as he could. Things had been nothing short of hectic at the station in the last few months. Actually, it had been hectic in the entirety of Japan's police force, from the various civilians coming forward with evidence against corrupt heroes to the cleanup for all the vigilante justice and this mess with the League of Villains. 

     And now, glancing back at the Todoroki household as he pulled away from the curb, he couldn't help but wonder if there was something else going on that needed investigating.

      Todoroki Shouto's experience had been enlightening, to say the least. Deku's quirk, whatever it was, had been powerful enough to counter what was, objectively, one of the strongest quirks on UA campus. Furthermore, it provided another hint as to Deku’s intentions invading the USJ: that he intended to recruit some of UA's students to his cause. What's more, in threatening Todoroki Fuyumi, Deku demonstrated the lengths that he was willing to go to in order to accomplish his goals. His appearance tonight also provided some insight into Deku himself, and the experiences that must have led him to where he was today. How had Todoroki Shouto put it? Isolation, prejudice, and fear of himself? They were interesting traits to choose, honestly. As a quirkless child, Naomasa could certainly understand where the first two came from, but the last? Why would Deku have feared himself?

     And why would he assert that Todoroki Shouto felt the same way?

     Tsukauchi Naomasa wasn't an idiot. He knew the limitations of his quirk: he couldn't differentiate between believed and absolute truths, and he could only tell if someone was telling a lie if they were communicating verbally, although it didn't matter whether or not he understood the language being spoken. Furthermore, although he could tell if someone was spinning a half-truth, he couldn't recognize omitted truths. So, naturally, he had spent a great deal of time learning how to fill in those gaps, learning to recognize when someone was withholding information or when someone's body language didn't match their words. 

     Technically, neither of the Todoroki siblings had verbally lied even once during their little interview, but that didn't mean they told him the truth. For example, Todoroki Fuyumi's excuse about why she didn't call the police. People didn't just forget to call in an explosion on their property for nearly an hour. Treating someone for dehydration or not, there really was only so much that a person could do before calling the police or a hospital. Either she had been distracted with something else or there was a reason why she couldn't call. 

     The former answer might explain her brother's little lies, when he denied there being anything else to tell him. It hadn't been verbal, but the response was too quick and too jerky, not to mention his hands had started curling and uncurling in fists--a nervous tick that he didn't seem to be aware of. However, the latter explanation might tie into some of the other strange things Naomasa had noticed during his visit, like why Todoroki Shouto would have been 'isolated' when he had two older siblings, or why he was 'afraid of himself', or that hesitation in his speech when he talked about his fire and when he looked at his left hand, or the reason why Endeavor wouldn't approve of measures being put in place to protect his family. 

     Naomasa's grip on the steering wheel tightened.

     Everyone involved in the hero community knew that Endeavor wasn't very well-liked. He was abrasive, frustrating to work with, and had a track record of disregarding safety procedures, especially when it came to protecting the rights of the villains he apprehended and sometimes even the bystanders caught in the crossfire. Unfortunately, none of those were considered reason enough by the Hero Public Safety Commission to open up an investigation against the man, but if he were abusing his family…

     Well, there was nothing Naomasa could do unless someone came forward or he managed to find grounds for probable cause to search the estate, so for now, he'd just do what he could to protect the Todoroki siblings from Deku and worry about Endeavor later. Rubbing eyes gritty with exhaustion, he parked his car at the station and walked inside, waving briefly to Saito, who was on duty at the front desk, as he went. Once in his office, Naomasa slumped into the chair, stretched his arms, and instinctively extended them in a familiar motion towards his laptop. Only, what he encountered there was a decidedly un- familiar contour. 

     A small black thumb drive rested on his keyboard, marked with three silver letters: 

     M, L, and A.

Chapter Text

     “Bye kero, Nee-chan!” Satsuki-chan squeaked happily, hugging Tsuyu’s legs.

     “Be good today, kero,” Tsuyu smiled, gently stroking her little sister’s hair, then reaching over to tousle Samidare’s as well. He playfully bat her off, but smiled faintly just the same.

     “See you after school, Nee-san.”

     “See you later.”

     Tsuyu allowed herself a small smile as she headed towards UA, enjoying the gentle shower of rain on her hand as she stuck it out beyond the umbrella and thinking fondly of her two younger siblings. She was glad that she had such a strong relationship with her family. She didn’t think she’d have been able to get as far as she had without their support. Honestly, she couldn’t imagine her life without them.

     Her smile faded at the thought.

     In the absence of the Sports Festival, there had been two news stories competing for the top spot. The first was about the attack on Ingenium, Iida’s older brother. There weren’t any details on his condition, but it was essentially confirmed that he had been hospitalized by the Hero Killer. It was awful, but Ingenium was a pro hero; it was generally expected that the career they were all shooting for held an element of risk. Still, it was supposed to be a risk in the future, not right now. Like the USJ. 

     Or like Todoroki… and Deku.

     Todoroki’s family home had been attacked by Deku the night of the Sports Festival. Tsuyu didn’t know Todoroki very well, but the news broadcast had stated that he had fought the villain one-on-one. No one had been badly injured, but it had still given everyone quite the scare, mostly because nobody was certain what Deku had really been after. Some people claimed he was trying to recruit hero students to his cause. Some people claimed he was trying to assassinate Todoroki-kun or even Endeavor himself. Other people thought he was just flexing his power or influence, and still others seemed to think it was a prank by some sort of copycat villain. Either way, it was a fact that both Todoroki and his sister had been in a great deal of danger. It worried her, to think that Deku could potentially attack any one of her classmates going forward, and with them, their families.

     “Tsu-chan!” a voice squealed as the frog-like girl was heading up the hill towards UA. 

     “Hey, Mina-chan,” Tsuyu replied, instantly recognizing the voice as she glanced down the hill. She stumbled a little bit, fumbling with her umbrella when she was practically tackled by a wall of pink, but quickly regained her balance, gently patting her friend’s back.

     “How was your weekend? What a day, huh, with all the rain and- Oh! Have you met Itsuka yet?” Mina spoke at her usual rapid-fire pace, grabbing Tsuyu’s hand and practically hauling her over to where another girl stood under a simple blue umbrella, smiling slightly and shaking her head. 

     “Calm down a sec, Mina,” she laughed. “You’re going to slip. Anyway, hi. I’m Kendo Itsuka.”

     “Call me Tsu-chan,” Tsuyu replied reflexively, smiling at the other girl. “You fought Mina in the Sports Festival, right?”

     “Yep, that was me,” Kendo replied easily, taking the lead in heading back up towards the school. 

      “Kero. I’m a little surprised you hit it off with Mina-chan so well.”

     “What’s that supposed to mean?!” Mina pouted. “I’m super easy to get along with!”

     “I know. I’m just a little surprised that you two are such good friends after you beat her.”

     “Well, we’re at UA to form connections, right?” Kendo shrugged. “We could get decent hero training at lots of schools. The real advantage of UA is the ability to form relationships early.”

     “You have a point, kero,” Tsu-chan agreed. 

     “Anyway, what did y’all do this weekend? Did you guys hear about what happened to Todoroki?!”

     Kendo and Tsuyu exchanged grave glances. “He’s the ice guy, right? Yeah, I saw about that on the news. Is he okay?”

     “Honestly? Dunno. He doesn’t really… talk to anyone in class, so I haven’t heard anything.”

     “Me neither, kero,” Tsuyu admitted reluctantly when Kendo cast her a glance. “I’m sure it’ll come up in class today, though.”

     The three of them continued to chat idly all the way up to the school, swapping stories about their weekends, reminiscing about the highlights of the Sports Festival, and generally getting to know one another until they reached their hallway. 

     “Well, I guess I’d better head to my classroom,” Kendo commented.

     “Aww,” Mina sighed. “Well, I guess we’ll see you later, then!”

     “It was nice to meet you, kero.”

     “You too, Tsu-chan,” the strawberry-haired girl smiled, waving briefly as she continued towards her class.

     “Ah! Welcome, you two!” Momo smiled as they entered the room. 

     “Hey Tsu-chan! Mina-chan!” Ochaco called brightly. 

     “Good morning~!” Mina sang. “How was your weekend!” 

     “Great! My parents came to visit me and Momo!”

      “Kero. That’s great, Ochaco-chan.” 

     The conversation quickly turned into a recap of the one she and Mina had with Kendo on their way to the school, with more and more people chiming in as they arrived. “This has got to be the weirdest UA Sports Festival in the history of UA Sports Festivals,” Sero noted. “I mean, that Gentle Criminal vigilante guy got more news coverage than we did!”

     “To be fair, he did completely rip apart and expose a notorious quirk trafficking ring,” Shinsou commented from where he was messing with his phone on the other side of the room.

     “And Todoroki, too!” Kaminari added, kneeling in his seat, his dark eyes wide. “I mean really, did you see the news?! Deku, waltzing into the number two hero’s backyard! Talk about ballsy!”

     “And traumatizing,” Jirou rolled her eyes, stabbing the blonde with her earphone jacks. “Come on idiot; think about how Todoroki feels, would you?”

     “Todoroki has feelings?” Kaminari grumbled, rubbing his arm. Tsuyu felt it her duty to smack him upside the head with her tongue for that. It was a good thing the two-toned boy hadn’t made it into the classroom yet.

     “And anyway, it sure didn’t damper any interest in the Festival,” Tooru piped up, eager to change the subject. “Everyone knew that the Sports Festival had happened, but nobody knew what had happened in it! Anyone that recognized my uniform just kept trying to drill me for information about it!”

     “Yeah, me too!” Kirishima called, his eyes wide. “It was really awkward, honestly. When I said I’d tied for third, some people got super excited and wanted a play-by-play of the fights and other people gave me this weird look, like they didn’t actually believe me.”

     “Well, I bet they figured students would probably lie to make themselves look good, considering nobody can really confirm the results from this year,” Tsuyu mused, her finger resting on her chin.

     “That’s a good point! Geez, why didn’t I think of that,” Sero groaned into his hands.

     “Sero, that would be considered dishonest and unbecoming of a future hero!” Iida reprimanded him as he walked through the door. “And besides, the UA administration already announced that they would be releasing photos of the top four victors on their official site; they just wouldn’t be publicizing the results further!”

     "Geez Iida, can't you take a joke?"

      “Kero. You’re a little bit later than normal, aren’t you Iida?”

     “I’m absolutely fine, thank you,” Iida replied stiffly, marching past her towards his desk. 

     “That’s not what I said,” Tsuyu frowned. Was he just worried about Todoroki, or was his brother’s condition worse than the news had implied? “Are you-?”

     “Morning.”

     “Good morning, Aizawa-sensei!” the class chorused back before she could complete her question. Todoroki walked in right behind their teacher, pointedly avoiding eye contact with anyone. 

     “Alright, first things first. I know this past week has been hectic on a number of different levels. That being said, I don't want to hear of anyone harassing their fellow classmates just because they're feeling curious.” Tsuyu blinked as Aizawa-sensei's eyes seemed to linger on Kaminari, Mina, and then even flicked warningly towards her before he continued. “That being said, yes, Deku has been confirmed as the villain behind the attack on the Todoroki household and yes, the UA administration is working on a plan to prevent anything like this from happening in the future. Details are not being disclosed yet so don’t ask.” 

     A low murmur rippled across the room as her classmates speculated what this ‘plan’ might entail. Tsuyu found her eyes drawn towards Bakugou, sitting in the corner farthest from her. He looked grim, glaring down at his desk with his hands curled into fists. Honestly, she almost regretted bringing Deku up in conversation the day of the USJ attack. For your friend to be missing for three years and then suddenly turn up again as a villain attacking your class… that had to be hard. She wondered what he must be thinking, now that Deku seemed to be targeting their classmates individually.

     “Now. We have a big class today. On Hero Informatics,” Aizawa-sensei continued, bringing everyone’s attention back to him. Tsuyu ribbited softly again as she felt the entire class grow tense. “You need codenames. Time to pick your hero identities.”

     The mood shifted in an instant, every person in the class on the verge of leaping out of their seats in excitement. Evidently anticipating the reaction, Aizawa-sensei’s hair rose upward, his eyes flashing red in warning. Everyone immediately quieted, but the excited thrum of energy remained present. It seemed that this was an effective topic to take everyones’ minds off of the drama of the past week. “This is related to the pro hero draft picks that we talked about a few weeks ago. Normally you wouldn’t have to worry about this until your second or third year, but your class is different. Even though the Festival wasn’t televised this year, the stands were filled with pros, and many of them extended offers. In doing so, they essentially are saying that they want to invest in your potential. But be warned that any offers they make can be rescinded if their interest in you dies down before graduation.”

     “So what you’re saying is, we’ll still have to prove ourselves after we’ve gotten recruited,” Tooru called.

     “Correct. Now, here are the totals for those of you that got offers.”

Bakugou: 3378
Todoroki: 2951
Uraraka: 1463
Tokoyami: 360
Kirishima: 293
Sero: 108
Ashido: 68
Iida: 20
Kaminari: 11
Aoyama: 4

     “In past years, it’s been more spread out, but there’s a pretty big gap this time. Then again, this year has been strange on a number of levels.”

     “Gah, that’s no fair!” Kaminari groaned.

     “But what of the real star, moi?!” Aoyama fumed.

     “At least you got offers,” Satou muttered.

     “How did Todoroki get more offers than Uraraka?” Kyoka frowned.

     “Yeah, he didn’t even make the podium,” Kirishima frowned.

     “Well, his performance was impressive, kero. And honestly if he hadn’t fought Bakugou so early on, he probably would’ve gone farther,” Tsuyu pointed out.

     “Yeah, I guess you have a point,” Sero agreed. 

     “Congratulations, Todoroki-kun!” Momo smiled with a strained kind of warmth. “You must be proud!”

     Todoroki’s expression only tightened as he glowered at his clenched fists.

      Hm… 

     “People want us!” Ochaco cried in teary-eyed excitement, shaking Iida by the shoulders, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room.

     “Man, but what about everyone that didn’t make it to the tournament? Or everyone that opted out?”

     “Despite these results, you’ll all be interning with pros,” Aizawa-sensei cut in coolly. “Those students that chose to opt out of the Sports Festival I’ve already had a word with as far as their options and I’m aware that some of you have already reached out to heroes that you would like to intern with. If you’ve heard back from any of those heroes, then I need to know about it. The rest of you will be joining those of your classmates that didn’t get offers in choosing from a list of heroes that have opened up their agencies to accept first year interns. That’s why you’ll all be needing hero names.”

     “Alright!”

     “Things suddenly got a lot more fun!”

     “Anyway, these names are probably going to be temporary, but take them seriously or-”

     “-you’ll have hell to pay later!”

     The class jumped, several of the boys blushed, and several others (along with most of the girls) cringed as Midnight-sensei swaggered into the room, her arms raised above her head to accentuate her chest and a seductive smirk curling her lips. “Whatever you pick today could be your codename for life. You’d better be careful, or you’ll be stuck with something utterly indecent.”

     Yeah, that was honestly kind of uncomfortable. 

     “Yeah, she’s got a good point. Midnight is gonna have final approval over your names, seeing as it’s not my forte,” Aizawa-sensei sighed, and Tsuyu found herself wondering what the story behind the dullness in his eyes might be. “The name you give yourself is important. It helps reinforce your image and shows what kind of hero you want to be in the future. A codename tells people exactly what you represent. Anyway, get to it.”

     With that, their teacher promptly curled up in his sleeping bag and effectively tuned out the world while Midnight-sensei passed whiteboards out to the class. Tsuyu didn’t have to think too hard about her name; she’d had it planned out since she was just a little kid. In quick, long strokes, she wrote out her epithet and hero name. Then, just because she could, she doodled a little frog face in the corner, too. 

     “Now students, who among you is ready to share?” Midnight-sensei smiled, provoking startled stares from several of the students, Kirishima and Sero in particular.

     Aoyama, naturally, instantly raised his hand. “Hold your breath!” he declared as he came forward. “The Shining Hero: my name is ‘I can not stop twinkling’!”

     “Um, what?”

      “Mes amis, you cannot deny my sparkle.”

     “It would be better this way,” Midnight-sensei smiled, taking his whiteboard. “Take out the ‘I’ and shorten the ‘can not’ to ‘can’t’.”

     “It’s stunning! Merci, mademoiselle!”

     “Okey dokey, let me go next!” Mina called eagerly in the flabbergasted silence that followed his pronouncement, leaping to her feet. “My codename: Alien Queen!”

     “Hold on! Like that horrible monster with the acidic blood?!” Midnight-sensei seemed to choke. “I don’t think so!”

     “Dang it…”

     Tsuyu glanced around the room, noting all of the strained expressions and turning back to the front with one raised hand. “Kero. I think I’ve got one. Is it okay if I go next?”

     “Come on up!”

     “I’ve had this name in mind since preschool,” Tsuyu explained as she took the podium and turned her whiteboard around. “The Rainy Season Hero: Froppy.”

     “That’s delightful! It makes you sound approachable!” Midnight-sensei squealed. “What a wonderful example of a name everybody will love!”

     Tsuyu had expected the name to be approved, although she would admit that she hadn’t expected the entire class to break out into a chant. Still, she smiled, blushing a little bit as she made her way back to her seat. 

     Kirishima worked up his courage to share next, his expression fierce and determined as he declared, “I’ve got mine, too! The Sturdy Hero! My name’s Red Riot!”

     “Red Riot? Interesting. You’re paying homage to the Chivalrous Hero: Crimson Riot, yes?”

     “Heh, yeah. He may be a little bit old school, but someday I wanna be just like he was! Crimson is my idol,” Kirishima admitted, turning a little pink around the ears. 

     “Hm,” Midnight-sensei smiled, “If you’re bearing the name of someone you admire, you have that much more to live up to.”

     “I accept the challenge!”

     Tsuyu internally smiled at that. It was really cool of Kirishima to admit his admiration of the hero. She was proud of him. He would be a great hero one day.

     “Dammit, I can’t think of anything that sounds cool enough yet,” Kaminari grumbled nearby.

     “Hey, I’ve got one for you,” Kyoka piped up. “How about Jammingyay?”

     “Oh, it’s like Hemmingway who wrote A Farewell to Arms, right? I like it!”

     “N-No, it’s because even though you’re powerful, you always… jam your brain!” she snorted back, fighting down her laughter. While Kaminari spluttered angrily after her, the dark-haired girl sprang to her feet and skipped to the front of the room. “The Hearing Hero! I’m Earphone Jack!”

     “Now that’s a good one!”

     Things moved quickly after that, all of Tsuyu’s classmates rising to their feet one after another, usually followed by a light smattering of applause.

     “The Tentacle Hero: Tentacole.”

     “Ooh, nice portmanto!”

     “The Taping Hero: Cellophane!”

     “That’s on the nose!”

     “Martial Arts Hero: Tailman!”

     “No surprise with that one, I guess!”

     “I’m the Sweets Hero: Sugarman!”

     “Perfect~!”

     “PINKY!”

     “Make those looks work for you, girl!”

     “Stun Gun Hero! I’m Chargebolt! Electric, don’t you think?”

     “Makes me all tingly~!”

     “The Stealth Hero: Invisible Girl!”

     “That really suits you! Now come on, who’s gonna step up next?”

     “I hope I can live up to this name. The Everything Hero: Creati.”

     “Creative~!”

     “Shouto.”

     “Just your name?” Midnight-sensei frowned, along with everyone else in the class. “Is that it?”

     “Uh-huh,” Todoroki nodded, absolutely deadpan. 

     “Hm. Alright then.”

     “The Jet-Black Hero: Tsukuyomi.”

     “God of the night!”

      Petting Hero: Anima.

      “Yep! All about it!”

     “Okay. This is the name I thought of. Uravity!”

     “I just love that!” Midnight-sensei squealed, leaving Ochaco sighing in relief. “To be honest, choosing names is going faster than I thought it would. All we have left is Bakugou and Iida. Oh yes, and Shinsou, too.”

     “I actually have mine ready,” Shinsou said quietly.

     “Well then, come on up!”

     The indigo-haired boy rose to his feet, advancing casually to the front of the room before almost carelessly flashing up his whiteboard. “The Silver-Tongued Hero: Faery.”

     “Ooh, I like it! Although I’ll admit, 'Fairy' does sound a bit cutesy-er than I would have expected from you.”

     “If you think that,” Shinsou said with a wicked grin reminiscent of their sensei’s, “then you obviously don’t know the legends behind faeries.”

     “Hm? What do you mean?” Midnight-sensei frowned as he began to make his way back to his seat.

     “Oh,” Momo suddenly realized, her dark eyes going wide. “You meant ‘Faery’ with an ‘e’, not with an ‘i’, didn’t you? You’re making a reference to the mythological creatures that can seize control of a person by learning their name, right?”

     “Exactly,” Shinsou smirked back, sending a ripple of interest and surprise throughout the room. Kirishima actually jumped slightly, although when Tsuyu glanced at him, she realized that he was actually staring at his phone rather than paying attention to the conversation. She cocked her head curiously to one side when the redhead suddenly raised his gaze, staring across the room to meet Bakugou’s narrowed eyes, then grinning widely and nodding once.

     Interesting.  

     “O-Oh,” Midnight-sensei stuttered, sounding suddenly hesitant and drawing Tsuyu’s attention back to the conversation at hand.

     “You already approved it, sensei. No take-backs.”

     “I second that,” Aizawa-sensei grumbled from where he was supposed to be asleep.

     “W-Well then. Iida? Bakugou? Are you ready?”

     Slowly, Iida rose to his feet, abnormally grim. Tenya, his whiteboard read as he silently glared out the window. 

     “You’re using your real name, too?” Midnight-sensei blinked in surprise. “Well alright, I suppose that works. Bakugou, how about you?”

     “Yeah,” the blond boy grunted, looking uncharacteristically nervous as he rose to his feet and made his way to the front of the room. When he turned the board around, a collective gasp rose from the class. 

     “Dude. Are you sure?” Kaminari asked first, voicing what everyone else in the room was thinking. "That could be your hero name forever, you know."

     “If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have written it, Drooly.”

     “I like it. Kero. Still, it doesn't really seem like your usual style. Why pick that one?” Tsuyu wondered aloud, placing her finger against her chin. Bakugou didn't answer. He just looked away, a grim, faraway look in his red eyes.

     "Hang on!" Tooru cried suddenly, smacking her hands down on her desk. "Isn't that what Deku used to call you?! I thought you said we weren’t allowed to call you that!!"

     "Huh. So is this your weird way of declaring war on him?" Kyoka frowned amid the ripple of whispers that accompanied the newly-dubbed Invisible Girl's pronouncement.

     “Dammit, I don't need to explain myself to you morons,” Bakugou grumbled waspishly, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Just get over it. This is gonna be my codename, got it?”

     “It's an awesome name, bro,” Kirishima smiled, wiping subtly at his eye as he did. “Manly as hell.”

     “Yeah,” Mina-chan agreed without the slightest trace of sarcasm. “It's perfect.”

     It made Tsuyu wonder what she and Kirishima knew that everyone else didn’t.

     “Alright then,” Midnight-sensei smiled softly, for once not grinning in that kind-of-creepy way of hers. “Everyone, let's give a round of applause for our last hero of the day: ‘Kacchan’.”

.oOo.

     Everyone was pouring over their internship offers and options by the time classes broke for lunch, individual conversations arising throughout the room as everyone debated what their best choice might be. 

     “I wanna fight crime and bad guys in a big city!” Kirishima grinned.

     “I just want to intern somewhere with a lot of flooding. Or maybe a lake,” Tsuyu admitted, her eyes roving over the list Aizawa-sensei had given them. No… No… Hm, rescue agency. Might be one to consider. Selkie? Who’s that?

     “Hey, you got an offer from Gunhead! He’s totally awesome, you should do it!” Ochaco squealed suddenly, looking over Kirishima’s shoulder. 

     “You think so?”

     “Yeah! He’s who I learned martial arts from! I mean, I definitely need a lot more practice ‘cause it’s been awhile since then, but he’s so good! And anyway, he’s a brawler, so you’d probably get the chance to gain a lot of experience!”

     “Huh, I’ll bear that in mind. Thanks, Uraraka!”

     “No problem! Hey Tsu-chan, wanna sit with us?”

     “Sure. Thanks Ochaco, kero.”

     Ochaco’s usual lunch group had grown considerably since the start of the year. At first, it had just been Iida and Shinsou, but then Kouda had joined after the USJ attack, and when Ochaco had moved in with Momo, she had become a regular member as well. The dark-haired girl had gone ahead of the rest of the group today, so when they found her seated at the long booth-style table with her tray piled with two full high-calorie meals, they were a little bit surprised to see that she already had someone sitting with her.

     “Isn’t that Todoroki?” Tsuyu blinked, cocking her head to one side.

     “Yeah,” Ochaco agreed softly. Of course, it couldn’t be anyone else considering his hair. Still, the two-toned boy usually sat on his own in the far corner of the cafeteria. Seeing him choose a seat in the center of the crowd, especially at a table where so many other people usually sat, was a bit of a shock. 

     “I don’t want you to feel like I’m prying, but I do consider you my friend, Todoroki-kun. So, I just wanted to ask… are you alright? Do you and your sister need a place to stay? We have more than enough room at my residence-”

     “Thank you, but I don’t think that will be necessary,” Todoroki interrupted quietly. “You see… I-”

     “Heya, Yaomomo! Todoroki-kun!” Ochaco called cheerfully, announcing their presence to the pair. “Is it okay if we join you?” Part of Tsuyu wondered if it was okay for them to have interrupted what sounded like a serious discussion, but at the same time, maybe that was exactly why her bubbly friend had cut in. It probably wasn’t a good idea to listen in on a private conversation without the two participants being made aware that anyone was there. Either way, both Todoroki and Momo jumped when they suddenly realized that they had an audience, Momo turning slightly pink at the tips of her ears and Todoroki determinedly turning his gaze away from them.

     If Tsuyu didn’t know any better, she’d think that the guy was embarrassed.

     Momo glanced quickly towards Todoroki, as though asking permission. When he didn’t say anything in the negative, she smiled kindly to their group and gestured towards the empty seats. “We would be honored,” she said simply, although something dark and worried still hovered in the back of her eyes. 

     “Everything okay?” Tsuyu asked as she slid into the booth next to the dark-haired girl. Again, her eyes flickered towards Todoroki before she answered, although by this point, he seemed determined to keep his attention on his soba noodles. 

     “Yes, everything’s fine,” Momo assured them eventually. “I simply wanted to ask Todoroki-kun about something.”

     “About the Deku attack?” the frog-like girl prompted.

     Todoroki blinked at her, looking startled but also almost… relieved. Like he’d been waiting for someone to acknowledge it. “Yeah,” he nodded quietly, his eyes flicking back to his food. 

     “Are you okay?”

     “I’m unharmed.”

     “That’s not what I meant. Sorry, but I did hear a bit of what you and Momo were saying when we were walking up. Does your family need help?”

     “No. We’ll be fine.”

     “Are you sure?”

     “…Yes.”

     Tsuyu frowned, finger on her lip and head cocked to one side at the distinct hesitation.

     “So where is everyone thinking of going for their internships?” Momo cut in quickly before she could press further.

     “I dunno yet,” Ochaco mused, instantly picking up on Momo’s silent plea for a subject change. Tsuyu frowned, but didn't try to direct the conversation back to Todoroki. “I honestly wasn’t expecting to get so many offers, since the Festival wasn’t broadcast or anything, so it’s gonna take some time to dig through it all. Bet it’s worse for you, right Todoroki-kun?”

     The boy’s heterochromatic eyes flicked up from his food, his mouth half-full of noodles, something almost like surprise crossing his face, like he hadn’t been expecting to be included in the conversation at all. But Ochaco’s smile remained on him, so he grunted noncommittally and lowered his gaze again, looking the most uncertain that Tsuyu had ever seen him. He really wasn’t sure how to interact in these kinds of social situations was he.

     “I guess that’s fair,” Ochaco shrugged, still cheerful as ever. “What about you, Shinsou-kun? Kouda-kun? I mean, since you didn’t participate in the Festival?”

     “Yaoyorozu didn’t participate either, you know,” Shinsou commented, his expression as blank as ever.

     “Yeah, but I live with her now!” the brunette pouted in return. “I can ask her any time I want!”

     “I’m interning with Aizawa-sensei.”

     “Wow, really? Kero.”

     “Yeah. You know, underground hero training and all that.”

     “Still, I’m surprised he decided to mentor you himself.”

     “I was too,” Shinsou admitted. “I’m excited though. Even if he is going to pound me into the ground.”

     “Yeah, that’s true.”

     “What about you, Kouda-kun?” Momo prompted the quiet boy again.

     Kouda carefully set aside his chopsticks and his hands flew in response. Shinsou watched out of the corner of his eye, chewing through another mouthful of food before translating, “‘I’m gonna pick someone off of the list Aizawa-sensei gave us.’” He paused, then looked towards Momo. “He wants to know what you’re gonna do.”

     “Well, I’ve reached out to a few heroes that my parents are familiar with,” Momo began, fidgeting awkwardly, “as well as a hero that I think I could learn a great deal from due to the nature of our quirks. One of them has already apologized, saying that he is indisposed during that week, but I have yet to hear from the others. I’ll just have to wait and see what happens next. What about you, Iida-kun?”

     “Wh-What?” the dark-haired boy jolted, staring blankly at the six of them. (Well, five of them; Tsuyu wasn’t convinced that Todoroki counted since he didn’t seem to be listening.)

     “It’s not like you to get so distracted, Iida,” Tsuyu observed. “Are you worried about your brother?” Iida froze, and the table grew awfully quiet. Obviously, Tsuyu hadn’t been the only one thinking about it. Seriously, people needed to talk when they had something on their mind. 

     “Yeah, are you doing okay, Tenya-kun?” Ochaco asked quietly, her concern for their friend palpable (not that it hadn't been palpable with Todoroki, she just knew better how Iida would react to her asking).

     “I’m fine,” he replied stiffly, automatically.

     “What exactly happened anyway?” Tsuyu pressed, her head tilting to one side in thought. “All that’s really been in the news is that he was attacked by the Hero Killer and survived it. Nobody’s even saying if he’s gonna recover or not.”

     “He’s going to be fine,” Iida said, in a softer voice now, although his grip tightened around his chopsticks. “Onii-san’s not going to end up permanently crippled, which is more than can be said for many of the Hero Killer’s victims, although there are concerns that… that he won’t ever regain full range of motion in his arm. And since that’s where his quirk manifested, he might… He might have to limit the amount of hero work he does from now on.”

     “Ah geez, I’m really sorry, Tenya,” Ochaco murmured, setting aside her own food to reach up and grip the taller boy’s shoulder. “But hey, at least you still have him, right?”

     “…Right.”

     “I wonder how he escaped anyway,” Shinsou murmured, more to himself than anyone else as he frowned at his water. “Rumor has it the Hero Killer has some kind of paralysis quirk.”

     “He didn’t escape. Someone saved him.”

     “His sidekicks must be quick.”

     “No. I mean yes, but no, it wasn't them. It was… someone else.”

     “Who?” Tsuyu frowned.

     Iida hesitated, glancing around as though worried about who might be listening. Again, his hand seemed to tighten around his eating utensils; frankly, Tsuyu was surprised that his chopsticks hadn’t snapped yet. “Onii-san… Onii-san said it was a pair of vigilantes.”

     “Wow, really?” Ochaco gaped. “I didn’t know that any were active in Hosu!”

     “Neither did he,” Iida murmured. “But they were there. Someone with a telekinesis quirk and someone with blue fire.”

      “Ack-!”

     The entire table jumped in surprise as Todoroki abruptly choked on his soba, lurching forward and coughing violently as he seized a napkin and brought it up to hide his rapidly reddening face. “T-Todoroki-kun?!” Momo cried in alarm, immediately leaping to her feet and hurrying around the edge of the table to rub his back as he vaguely waved her off, still coughing while reflexive tears streamed down his cheeks, his eyes suddenly fixed on Iida. 

     “Todoroki-kun, are you okay?” Ochaco asked now, looking ready to float herself out of her seat and join Momo in helping him breathe. 

     “M’fine,” the heterochromatic boy managed to gasp, quickly rubbing the thin streams of liquid from his eyes, the tips of his ears turning red again as he glanced away. “Sorry about that.”

     Hm. Maybe he really was embarrassed. For such a cold and mysterious guy, he really could be awkward. Speaking of… 

     “Hey Todoroki, why did you choose to use your name instead of a codename?” Tsuyu frowned thoughtfully.

     Again, Todoroki almost looked startled to realize that he was being asked a question. For a moment, all he did was stare at her, bemused by her steadfast gaze. Then his eyes dropped to his plate, and a small frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Aizawa-sensei said that a codename tells people what you represent--what kind of hero you are. And… I don't really know what kind of hero I want to be right now. So I figured I'd wait until I knew before choosing one."

     "Huh. I guess that makes sense," Tsuyu nodded thoughtfully. "What about you, Iida?"

     "…I suppose it's the same for me. More or less," the other boy muttered after a moment. Again, Tsuyu frowned. There seemed to be more to it than that, but Iida seemed much less inclined to elaborate than he normally did. "Iida, are you sure you're-"

     "Well, if it isn't Class 1-A!"

     A collective groan rose up from the occupants of the table at the gratingly familiar voice. Even Momo, easily the most patient person Tsuyu had ever met, released a tired sigh as the grinning blonde approached their table. 

     “What a strange coincidence that we should see each other here!” Monoma sneered as he approached.

     “Why would it be strange? Everyone in the school shares the cafeteria,” Todoroki frowned at him. For a moment, Tsuyu thought the guy was trying to make a joke, but one look at the two-toned boy’s face told her otherwise.

      “Kero. You don’t understand sarcasm too well, do you.”

     Todoroki blinked at her, his eyebrows furrowing infinitesimally. “…Oh. I guess not.”

     “Well well, I suppose we have the losers’ table over here, now don’t we?” the blonde smirked. “Well, the losers and the cowards, that is. Oh, and I even see an attention-seeker and a villain among your ranks!”

     “Uraraka, remind me why I’m not allowed to use my quirk to make this jerk leave us alone,” Shinsou deadpanned.

     “Honestly Hitoshi-kun, I’m beginning to wonder that myself,” Ochaco growled softly, glaring daggers at the blonde.

     The indigo-haired boy blinked at her a couple of times before he sighed deeply, slumping forward. “Yaoyorozu, remind me why I’m not allowed to use my quirk on this guy,” he groaned into his arms.

     “Because not using your quirk on him demonstrates a greater depth of character than he is clearly capable of mustering,” the dark-haired girl replied promptly, although her hand had suspiciously closed around the fork she had been using for her Western-style meal while her onyx eyes drilled warningly into their assailant.

     “Ooh, have I struck a nerve there?” Monoma jeered, his gray eyes lighting up unpleasantly.

     “You leave Todoroki-kun and Hitoshi-kun alone, you big bully!” Ochaco snapped, rising to her feet, flushed with anger. Once again, Todoroki seemed startled to hear his name mentioned. Had he not expected anyone to stand up for him, or had he just not realized that the 'attention-seeker' was him? Given how literally he tended to understand things it could be either one. “You’re acting more like a villain right now than HItoshi-kun ever has, and where do you come off thinking that Todoroki-kun was seeking attention?! It's not like he asked Deku to attack him; he was just doing the best he could to defend himself! You have no right to look down on him for that!” the brunette girl continued, her hands curling into fists. 

      Wait what's happening to her hands…?

     “Bold words from the bitch that defeated herself at the Sports Festival,” came the rapid retort. “Honestly, how pathetic can you get? Collapsing because you’re too weak to handle the backlash of your own quirk?! That’s the reason I’ll always be superior to-!”

     “That girl,” a low voice growled, instantly causing Monoma to stiffen, “is anything but weak.” 

     Tsuyu briefly tore her eyes away from the strangeness surrounding Ochaco’s hands to where Bakugou stood behind the blond jerk, one hand flexed and sparks flickering across his palm, the other clutching his empty food tray, his jaw clenched and his crimson eyes narrowed almost to slits.

     “Wh-Who’s acting the villain now?” Monoma spat, but his confident smile was wavering as he turned stiffly towards the other boy.

     “Geez, you’re not happy unless you’re spouting shit about something, are you,” Bakugou snorted. “Listen up, Reject, I told you before and I’ll say it again: nobody here is impressed by your pathetic attempts at making yourself feel better. If you wanna frickin’ declare war or whatever on us, then fine, but quit trying to drag my classmates into your damn inferiority complex, got it?!” 

     “Y-You can’t just say things like that!”

     “I can talk however I damn well wanna talk!” Bakugou snarled back, “and I bet Aizawa-sensei would agree with me. Should I go ask him?”

     If possible, Monoma turned even paler than before, his throat bobbing slightly. Then, in a huff, he spun on his heel and marched away, saving whatever face he had left. Ochaco released a long breath, slumping back into her seat. “Thanks, Bakugou-kun,” she sighed, pressing her cheeks into her hands. Tsuyu heard Momo gasp softly beside her and was hard-pressed not to do the same. “I almost lost my cool there.” 

     “Honestly, how rude,” Iida huffed in agreement.

     “Don’t mention it,” the ash blonde grunted, turning away. “I’ll see you dorks in class.”

     A moment of silence passed in which Tsuyu and Momo exchanged looks. Then the latter awkwardly cleared her throat. “Um, Ochaco-chan, what… happened to your hand?”

     “Eh? My hand?” the brunette blinked, staring at the limb herself. Her eyes widened further as she noticed, apparently for the first time, the bruises that had formed across her knuckles, as well as the blood that was seeping from a couple of small wounds in the palm of said hand. “Uh…”

     “Holy crap, what did you do?” Shinsou gaped, forgetting for a moment not to phrase his words as a question. 

     “I just… clenched my hand?” she squeaked back as Momo reached around Tsuyu with a handkerchief that she had created and soaked with water, using it to clean her blood-smeared cheek and hand.

     “And you somehow managed to generate enough force to bruise your hand and cut your palm with your fingernails?” Todoroki frowned.
    “Um. Apparently?” 

     Tsuyu’s frown deepened as Iida began lecturing Ochaco on being more careful and Kouda began frantically signing that maybe she should go to see Recovery Girl and Momo created band-aids from her own hands and Ochaco herself kept insisting that, yes, she really was fine, and no, she didn’t think they were broken, and no she didn’t know what had happened, she’d just been upset and suddenly she was bleeding.

     Nobody else, it seemed, had seen what Tsuyu had: thin lines of magenta light spiderwebbing across her skin underneath her uniform, following the paths of her veins.

      Is Ochaco hiding something?

Outtake:

     Shouto's first day back at school after the 'Deku attack' had been… strange. He’d gone early, hoping to avoid the stares and the whispers that no doubt would follow him the moment that he walked through the front gate. Only, as soon as he stepped inside, he’d found Aizawa-sensei waiting for him, beckoning for him to follow with little more than a look and a jerk of his head.

     His homeroom teacher had led the way to Principal Nezu’s office, where the… rat… dog?… had interrogated him about Deku’s appearance at the estate. He already seemed to know a great deal about the event from what that detective, Tsukauchi, had passed along, but he’d wanted to hear the specifics of their fight, in particular what observations he’d made about Deku’s quirk. 

     Shouto had told him everything he knew, and expected that to be the end of it. Instead, he was faced by his principal and homeroom teacher offering him their protection from both Deku… and potentially his father as well. 

     He was pretty sure that the only word to describe how he’d felt in that moment was ‘flustered’. He hadn’t been certain how to react or what to say. He probably stared at them for a solid five minutes before Principal Nezu smiled. “You can have some time to think it over if you would like, Todoroki-kun. If you feel safe in your own home, then you are more than welcome to remain there. However, if either you or your sister would like somewhere else to stay, then we are prepared to have you both moved to a safe house, far away from your father’s estate.” 

     On his way back to class, Shouto almost wished that they hadn’t told him that. It was just one more detail to add to his already rapidly-swirling thoughts, filled with his conversations with Deku, his mother, and the shouting match he’d gotten into with the old man once the bastard learned what had happened. Then the internship offers had been shown on the board and he had so many in spite of not making the podium, and he just knew that they were probably connected to the Deku fight, like getting singled out by an acknowledged supervillain was something to be rewarded. It was marginally better than being singled out because of his father, but it was still frustrating beyond belief.

     In some ways, that was why he was so grateful to Yaoyorozu for inviting him to sit with her at lunch.

     Yaoyorozu was the closest thing he'd had to a friend growing up, having interacted with her at several high-profile events he'd been made to attend as a child. Even if UA had already offered to make arrangements for him and Fuyumi-nee, it meant something to him, to know that she cared. And then there were her friends, too. Asui's bluntness was… refreshing, if he was being honest. Hearing someone unafraid to ask him about the one subject everyone else had been avoiding. Uraraka, too. Even if she had been uncertain how to approach the topic, at least she understood. Instead of praising his supposed bravery or mocking his egocentrism in facing off against Deku, she recognized that he was just another high school student, terrified out of his mind and just trying to protect his sister. Sure, their conversation had been… awkward at times, and flat out bizarre at one point with the weirdness surrounding Uraraka's hand, but it had been… nice. Almost like he belonged.  

     And then Iida had shared that story about the flame-wielding vigilante that had saved Ingenium…

     Deep down, Shouto wondered if that had been the final push--the reason why he was at UA early for the second day in a row, feeling anxious and yet somehow… hopeful too. Because if Touya had saved someone, then no matter his ties to Deku, his intentions couldn't be all sinister.

      Right?  

     His hand slipped into his jacket pocket, his fingers curling around the deceptively tiny item tucked there.

     He was glad that he decided to try the teacher's lounge first, because there was Aizawa-sensei, sitting with his legs tucked into his sleeping bag, scrolling slowly through some document or other on the screen of his laptop. Even then, he almost backed out. He had to fight to remind himself that the man had approached him first--that he was already suspicious. And even if he didn't believe him, he had proof now, questionable source or no. 

     "Aizawa-sensei?" Shouto called uncertainly.

     "Todoroki? What is it?" his teacher sighed, reaching for his coffee mug with barely a glance away from his computer.

     The heterochromatic boy hesitated a moment longer, squeezing the drive, feeling its distinct corners pressing into his palm and taking a long, deep breath. "Sensei, a few weeks ago, after the USJ… you asked me about my scar."

     Aizawa-sensei froze for just a moment, then, deceptively calmly, he set his mug aside and closed his laptop with a definitive click. Then he rose to his feet and stepped out of his sleeping bag, gazing at his student with a serious, yet unusually soft gaze. "How about we take this conversation somewhere a little more private?" he suggested quietly, gesturing for Shouto to follow.

     The boy nodded slowly, and before he knew it Aizawa-sensei was ushering him into his office, gesturing for him to take a plush seat while his teacher claimed a metal fold-out chair, just like before.

    "So?" his teacher prompted, searching the boy's two-toned eyes. "What would you like to tell me?"

     Shouto took a deep breath, steeling his resolve one last time. "Sensei… have you ever heard of quirk marriages?"

Chapter Text

     Torino Sorahiko groaned softly as he reached up to massage the bridge between his eyes; this newest case that Tsukauchi had requested his help on was going to drive him to actual senility. He'd been staring at black on white for far too long, and still had about three more files to go through. 

     Not to mention he'd run out of taiyaki about an hour ago. 

     Grimacing through the irritation, he set aside the file labeled as 'Kizuki Chitose' and picked up the one marked by the name 'Yotsubashi Rikiya' again. 

     Yotsubashi Rikiya, the current CEO of the Detnerat Company. He had always been a popular public figure: friendly, kind, energetic, and outspoken about creating a better world. Then, about a week earlier, Tsukauchi had found a USB drive on his desk at the station one evening, marked with the initials 'MLA'. It wasn't the first time this had happened; at least a dozen corrupt pros, politicians, and members of the HPSC had been exposed by anonymous tips left on Tsukauchi's desk in the last two years or so. It was only ever his desk, though, and nobody knew how any of the information got there. The USB drives were fairly new though. Before, it had been hard copies of documents or printouts of Excel sheets, usually labeled by dozens of sticky notes in multiple styles of handwriting. Now, they often got data sticks of dozens of digital documents or CCTV footage that was most likely illegally obtained. But they couldn't prove that, so their anonymous benefactor got the benefit of the doubt every time.

      Anyway, after checking the device over, Tsukauchi had found that it contained several files of security footage and documents implying that Yotsubashi had ties to the black market, and was using the Detnerat Company as a front to fund his illegal activities. Furthermore, one of the pieces of footage showed a group of similar public figures in a meeting of some kind, Kizuki and Yotsubashi being two of them. There didn't seem to be anything strange about the meeting except for its occupants, though. (Well, and the weird two-fingered 'L' salute that one of them did when they entered the room.) All of the attendees were businessmen or politicians, but none of them worked in overlapping fields. What kind of reason would they have to meet? And why would the anonymous tipper have left that piece of footage in the file if it wasn't somehow connected to these supposed black market deals? Most pressing of all, what or who on earth was MLA? All in all, it seemed much more vague than their informant's usual treasure troves of evidence.

     So, here Sorahiko was, going through files of information on the various members of the mysterious conference and trying to determine what was connecting them. His gut sense was that this went beyond just a supply of illegal equipment sales. MLA and by extension these people, whoever they really were and whatever this mysterious salute was from the footage, were up to something much bigger than simply lining their pockets with extra cash, and he needed to figure out what it was before they made their move.

     When Sorahiko's phone screen lit up, he reflexively reached to swipe 'ignore', when he noticed the Caller ID out of the corner of his eye. After that, he just sort of stared at his phone in disbelief for a few more rings before hitting 'answer' right before it went to voicemail.

     "Well now, this is a surprise," he said before his caller could get a word out. "What's the emergency? Or have you finally decided to make a social call for once?"

      "Oh… erm… Is…? Is this a good time, sensei? I'm sorry, I should have considered that you might have a case; I can call back later if you-"

     "Oi, quit stammerin' and get to the point Toshinori," the old pro rolled his eyes with a fond smile. Not that his former student could see it. 

      "Oh! R-Right, of course, sir!" Toshinori stuttered back, and Sorahiko could imagine him bowing awkwardly to an empty room. "Well, erm, it's just that… Well, I…" A sigh crackled over the phone. "Forgive me, sensei, I just… I'm not sure how to say this without being incredibly blunt."

     "So then speak up, boy!" Sorahiko barked back, privately enjoying the responding squeak of alarm. 

      "I've chosen a successor!"

     Sorahiko blinked slowly, staring at the far wall as his lips slowly parted in shock. "Who?" was all he managed to ask in anything resembling a steady tone of voice.

      "Uraraka Ochaco. Her natural quirk is called Zero Gravity. She was in the finals in the first year UA Sports Festival this year. I know it wasn't broadcasted, but her performance was truly remarkable-"

     "I do hope that wasn't your only criteria when you picked the girl."

      "No, of course not sir!" Toshinori exclaimed, and he at least sounded appropriately scandalized by the thought of such an arbitrary reason. "Uraraka-shoujo is one of my students; I've spent a considerable amount of time getting to know her prior to this point."

     "So what about the kid caught your eye?"

      "Her selflessness primarily, and her insightfulness."

     "Oh?"

      "The first time I really paid attention to Uraraka-shoujo was at the USJ. When most would have assumed that I could take care of myself given my reputation, she realized I was in trouble and jumped in to save me. Since then, and looking back on previous interactions, I've noticed that she's also quick-thinking, innovative, and very self-aware, with a good handle on her own strengths and weaknesses. Not to mention she’s self-motivated, optimistic, and incredibly hard-working."

      "Well if even half of what you've described is true, then I suppose she’ll do my sworn friend proud. So why are you calling me? You usually send letters on the rare occasion that you have anything significant to tell me. Couldn't wait to share the good news?"

      "Well… In fact, I wanted to ask you a favor. Would you be willing to take Uraraka-shoujo on as an intern? I'd rather not draw undue attention to her considering that she's only just obtained One for All and you're the only other pro hero who knows my secret, so-"

     "Eh? What about Mirai?"

      "Ah… Well, if you'll recall, Sir Nighteye already has an intern and I'd hate to overwhelm him-"

     "You haven't told him yet, have you."

     "Well… no, sensei."

     "It'll only get worse the longer you wait, you know."

      "…Yes, I know. I'm just… not ready to face him yet."

     "Well, fine then," Sorahiko sighed. "I suppose I'll take your brat on."

     "Thank you, sensei," Toshinori sighed in obvious relief.

     "Do I need to send a request or can you just put the girl on a train?"

      "It would be better if you sent a formal request for UA's records."

     "Alright. When should I expect her? I want to be ready for when your brat arrives."

      "…Please don't scare Uraraka-shoujo right off the bat, sensei."

     Sorahiko allowed a wicked grin to curl his lips. "I make no promises, Toshinori."

     Sorahiko spent the rest of the week leading up to the ninth’s arrival reviewing training videos that he had Toshinori send him. It was honestly a refreshing break from the mountains of files on sketchy-but-not-enough-for-a-full-investigation businessmen he had been buried in. Up to the Sports Festival, he could see some of the traits that his old student had seen in the girl, primarily in terms of her resourcefulness and innovativeness. She had a good handle on her quirk, worked well with others in training, but was also able to hold her own pretty well, fluidly incorporating martial arts moves into her fighting style. Even the few clips that he’d managed to send him from the Festival itself were pretty impressive. Her last fight in particular was remarkable, although it was a shame that she’d reached her weight limit there at the end. All in all, she seemed like a nice brat, as brats went. 

     But then Toshinori had sent a few clips of training sessions from after the Sports Festival.

      “Holy crap, Uraraka are you okay?!” some kid with bright blond hair was yelling on the screen, his arms flailing in panic as he rushed to the brown-haired girl’s side. 

      “I… I don’t think so?” she managed weakly in turn, practically collapsing onto a piece of rubble about the right height to be a seat as pink light faded from around her hand and gasping in pain as the movement jarred her right arm, which was bruised purple from fingertip to elbow and dripping blood in a few places. “Oh my God; Bakugou-kun!!”

      “Calm down, Round Cheeks,” another voice grunted as an ash blonde boy--the same one that beat her in the Sports Festival--pushed his way out of a pile of shattered cement. “I’m still alive. What the hell just happened?”

      “I… I think that was Ochaco’s quirk…?” a girl with black hair tied in a ponytail and a skimpy costume ventured cautiously, glancing towards the brunette while offering a hand to help ‘Bakugou’ to his feet.

      “The hell? I thought her quirk was gravity something-or-other?”

      “It’s not unheard of for a quirk to evolve after a high-stress scenario,” a cold voice interrupted and a man with scraggly black hair stepped on screen. He seemed vaguely familiar, but Sorahiko couldn’t be expected to remember the names and faces of every hero out there. He was old, plain and simple. “Still, I’ll admit this seems a bit extreme. Uraraka, head to Recovery Girl. Yaoyorozu, go with her. We'll review and discuss the match later.”

     “Yes sir.”

     The clip ended there. Sorahiko rewinded it, munching on taiyaki as he watched the moment when everything had gone wrong. For the most part, Uraraka had been using her quirk the same way that she had in the Sports Festival, relying primarily on this Zero Gravity power of hers. But then, in a moment when she got super heated in a fist fight with that Bakugou kid, One for All just kind of exploded out of her, completely instinctively and entirely emotionally. That was something they’d have to work on: keeping a cool head in battle. There were a few other things he could see, too, a few other ways he might be able to help her adjust the way she thought about her new quirk and control its overwhelming power.

     But first, he was going to get a few kicks in.

.oOo.

     “H-Hello?” a girl’s cautious voice called as his front door creaked open. “Hello! My name is Uraraka Ochaco, from UA High School? I’m excited to- Ohmygod!” It was all Sorahiko could do to keep from snickering at the sudden yelp. He prepared himself to pop up, eager to see the look of confusion on her face when he suddenly revealed himself as alive, when suddenly he felt gentle, calloused fingers press against the back of his neck, and a strange sensation, like he was stuck at the peak of a roller coaster, swept through his entire body. 

     Sorahiko’s eyes flew open in surprise when, at the same time, he could hear a phone dialing and felt those hands quickly maneuvering his body, lifting it and supporting potentially injured areas, such as his neck, back, and stomach as he was turned over in midair.

      “119 emergency services, how can I help you?”

     “Yes, hello, there’s someone here who’s really badly hurt-”

     “Oi, calm down kid, I’m just fine!” Sorahiko barked, and it was at least gratifying to see the brunette girl yelp in surprise, flailing backwards at this sudden show of activity from someone that she had assumed was unconscious and injured.

     “You-?! You’re-?! What the-?!”

      “Hello? What is the nature of your emergency? Is there a villain nearby?”

     Sorahiko grumbled and reached down to grab the discarded phone--simple model; he could appreciate that--fumbling a little bit as he adapted to the zero gravity environment he found himself in. “Everything’s fine; my granddaughter just saw me fallen over and got a little more worked up than she should’ve,” he sighed to the operator.

      “I see sir, but we need to hear confirmation of that from the original caller,” the woman replied calmly. 

     Damn all those new laws and regulations for hostage situations. 

     “Here, kid,” Sorahiko grumbled, tossing the phone to her, and in the process sending himself floating slowly away from her.

     She fumbled as she caught it, still looking a little dazed and bewildered by the sudden turn of events, but before long she had the phone off of speakerphone and held up to her ear. “Y-Yes, hello? Yes, I’m very sorry for the confusion. It… It looks like he just spilled a plate of sausages and ketchup, but when I first entered the room, I thought it was blood. Yes, thank you for your concern. We’ll be fine, now. Thank you. Goodbye.”

     She closed her phone with a satisfying snap, biting her lip uncertainly as he slowly floated further away. “Well brat? You gonna let me down, or what?” Sorahiko sighed, deciding the skip the senile act lest she try to call another ambulance.

     “Honestly, I’m not sure what I should do right now,” Uraraka admitted. “Frankly, an introduction like that doesn’t make you seem all that trustworthy.”

     “Alright kid, fair point, but we don’t really have time to mess around, ya’ newbie.” He thought that the girl might have snorted a little at that, but he didn’t exactly have the energy to debate his own fun with her. Instead, he activated his quirk.

     Uraraka watched in open-mouthed amazement as Gran Torino propelled himself from one side of the room to the other, (mostly) unhindered by the effects of her own quirk as he bounced off the walls, zipping past her a few times for good measure before he slammed into the wall, digging the reinforced gloves of his hero costume into the wall so that he wouldn’t float away as he grinned fiercely down at her. “I may not have been able to watch the Sports Festival, but I have seen a few of your exercises since then. You may have only had your new quirk for a week, but the way you use One for All is reckless and unrestrained; you obviously haven’t the first idea how to control it, and All Might has no idea how to teach you. He may be the Symbol of Peace and the number one hero, but he’s still a total novice when it comes to teaching! I can only wonder what kind of blunder he is in a classroom.” A flicker of comprehension seemed to dawn in Uraraka’s eyes as he said that, a slow smile beginning to stretch across her lips. “Now, let me down and get your costume on.”

     “Yes sir!”

     Before long, Sorahiko’s new student had joined him in his salon, fully decked out in a bright pink and black bodysuit and a helmet with a pinkish visor. She seemed nervous, which was good; he needed her on her toes if she was going to learn anything. 

     “Alright then, why don’t you fire off a smash at me?”

     “Um, what?” she blinked.

     “Hit me, kid.”

     “O-Oh. Oh, with… with One for All? Um, are… are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, the last time I tried to hit someone, I kinda destroyed part of a building, and this place didn’t exactly look structurally sound earlier, which I’ve been taught to recognize since my family owns a construction company-”

     “Good grief,” Sorahiko grumbled under his breath. “A chatterbox, aren’t ya’?” Well, the best way to deal with those was to force them into action. “I’m losing patience!” he roared, firing off his quirk again and zipping around her to land a solid kick to the girl’s back. 

     “Ow!” the girl yelped, staggering forward. When he zipped towards her again though, she had her game face on, twisting and dodging as best she could, her brown eyes scanning for an opening. She had decent form, but she needed refinement and she was still too hesitant, uncertain about when was the best moment to strike, even when he took a chance at one point and gave her an opening. 

     “You definitely have some kind of background in martial arts,” Sorahiko acknowledged as he landed on the counter, “but you could use a review to increase your confidence. That’s not the point of this exercise, though. Fire off a smash, girl! I need to see how you use this power to know how well you handle it!” 

     Uraraka grit her teeth, the anxiety in her eyes growing more pronounced. Well that wasn’t good. If she was afraid of the quirk, then she’d never learn to use it properly. But one way or another, Sorahiko caught sight of the telltale pinkish light he’d seen in the videos appearing around her hand. “Remember: low weight,” she mumbled to herself, her eyes darting around the room to follow his movements. As he came at her from behind she pivoted towards him, her hand flying out, instinctively making more of a grab than an actual punch--probably a leftover instinct from her natural quirk.

     “Good try, newbie,” he grinned even as he dodged the strike, “but you’re a little stiff, and there’s dischord in your mind!” Uraraka grunted in surprise as he pinned her to the floor, using one leg to trap her far arm while one hand grasped her other wrist and the other pressed its fingertips to her forehead. “That’s why I bested you. Listen closely brat: you’ve got potential, that much is obvious, and the fact that you didn’t shatter your arm this time around would suggest that you’re starting to get a handle on One for All’s power. That’s good, especially since you haven’t had it for very long. However, the way you’ve used your natural quirk in the past is limiting the way you think.”

     “My natural quirk is… limiting me?” the girl panted, looking confused. 

     “Think about it on your own time,” Sorahiko grunted, stepping off of her and gathering up his cane. “I’m gonna get us some grub. Clean this place up while I’m gone.”

     As Sorahiko strolled through the market, grabbing taiyaki and mochi as an afterthought, he wondered if he’d given the girl enough hints. She was certainly intelligent, and as he’d already acknowledged, she had good fighting instincts, but Toshinori had been quirkless originally, practically a blank slate, whereas Uraraka had already had a natural quirk. The oaf hadn’t dealt with the discombobulation of having a second quirk thrown on him. In short, the way that Uraraka used her quirk was inherently different from the way that Toshinori used One for All, so there was bound to be some measure of disconnect between the two of them--as someone else whose quirk emitted from a specific part of his body, Sorahiko could understand to some extent. He’d just have to figure out what paths to direct Uraraka towards so that she could catch on as well.

     “Oi, I’m back!” the old pro called as he reentered his home. There was no immediate response, which was worrying, so he stepped into the salon. There, he found Uraraka staring at her hand, her eyes wide, something like wonderment in them. 

     “Torino-san,” she said abruptly, whirling towards him, “I think too much about having my quirk in my fingers, right? Yagi-san, that is All Might-sensei, uses One for All all over his body--that’s why he’s muscly everywhere and not just in his arms--but I’ve always just channelled my quirk through my hands! That’s why they keep getting hurt! And that’s what you meant about my natural quirk limiting me, right?!”

     Sorahiko blinked at her, then allowed himself a fierce grin. “That didn’t take you long.”

     “Yes!” Uraraka cheered, bouncing with excitement. Her bright grin reminded him of Nana’s.

     He quickly shook that thought out of his head. 

     “So then, let’s see you put that into practice, eh?” he smirked, setting his bag of groceries aside. 

     Uraraka nodded fiercely and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and mumbling, “Low weight,” under her breath as she summoned One for All once again. 

     The change was remarkable.

     Magenta lines spread across her face and faded away as she dialed down the amount of power she was using, only to be replaced by spirals of soft pink light whirling around her limbs and across her chest, illuminating her bright, eager eyes. The only thing that managed to tear his eyes away from the almost-entrancing sight was a low rustling sound. When he glanced towards the source, his own grin only widened. 

     The grocery bag he had just set down was being pulled towards her. 

     “Wh-What the heck?!” the girl gaped when she noticed it, too.

     “Toshinori wouldn’t understand this, given that he was quirkless before he got One for All, but someone with a quirk before obtaining that power will find that their original ability combines in some way with the power stockpiled within the quirk. In your case, it looks like you’re able to affect gravity around you when it's activated.”

     “But… But why is it moving towards me then?! Why isn’t it just floating?!”

     “How should I know kid; I’m just a crazy old man,” he shrugged, still grinning. “Anyway, we can experiment with your powers later. For now, do you think you can move like that?”

     “I… I can try!”

     “Then let’s see it. You have three minutes to land a hit on me. Let’s see if you can maintain it that whole time!”  

     “Yessir!” 

     As it turned out, Sorahiko kind of regretted not reviewing his intern’s powers before they started their little training bout. Her little gravity field was considerably more potent than he had anticipated, to the point that when she stepped too close to one of the armchairs--or really anything that wasn’t attached to the floor--it was literally lifted up and dragged into her sphere of influence. Well, the couch did seem to be a bit too big for the field to lift, but it was still pulled towards her. Those objects became further obstacles as he bounced around the room, trying to land hits on his intern. Thankfully his Jet quirk had enough force to rip him through or out of the field when necessary, but it was one of the strangest things that he had ever experienced. It felt like he was being pulled off course, almost like he was under the control of a telekinesis quirk or something, except that the direction and force of its pull was more predictable. Actually, that fact proved to be to his advantage once he got the hang of it; he could use the force pulling him in towards the girl to add strength to his hits. 

     Anyway, it was an adjustment for the girl as well. She had a hard time maintaining One for All for longer than thirty seconds at a time, and if she did get hit, she would lose control of the power instantly, whatever objects swirling around her at the time immediately crashing to the floor. Speaking of, as annoying as those things were, especially when she started figuring out how to shove them into his path to give herself time to maneuver, they would also get in her way, more than once stopping her from landing an intended hit on him. 

     Still, he had to admit that he hadn’t expected the armchair to come flying at him due to the force of a strength-augmented punch concealed by the item’s own bulk.

     By the time their stomachs were well and truly grumbling, Uraraka had been smacked around enough to leave her covered in bruises, not to mention she’d been knocked into the wall at least four or six times. Even so, she had managed to land a hit on him, and one fierce enough to leave him with a nice shiner no less.

     Even if she had lost control immediately after and begun babbling an apology when there were still thirty seconds left on the clock for him to hit her back.

     “This… This is hard!” she moaned, slumping to the floor after the last bout.

     “Eh, it’s your first time using this technique; you can’t be expected to figure it out all at once,” he snorted. “And anyway, you’ve made some good progress. Now, sit down and let’s eat some of the frozen food I bought. Then we can talk about where to go from here.”

     “Sure! What’s for dinner?”

     “Taiyaki and-”

     “MOCHI!!”

     Huh. So sometimes impulse buys were a good thing. 

     Take that, Nana.

     “So tell me about this weight thing of yours,” Sorahiko grunted as he settled into his armchair about twenty minutes later, munching on a piece of taiyaki. “I noticed you saying something about a low weight while we were fighting.”

     “It’s the analogy I’ve used to try and limit the amount of power I use,” Uraraka explained around a mouthful of strawberry mochi. “See, the more weight I lift, the more of my Zero Gravity quirk I have to use, and it’s fairly similar calling on portions of One for All thinking that way, too. It’s been weird trying to adjust to having a whole new power, though. I understood the activation conditions for my natural quirk--just put down all five of my fingers--but I have to consciously call up One for All. It’s a lot more… emotional than Zero Gravity, really.”

     “Hm. Tell me, what all is that quirk of yours capable of?”

     “Hm? How d’you mean?”

     “Before One for All, what could you do with it?”

     “Hm,” Uraraka mused, swallowing her latest bite. “Well, anything that I touched with all five of my fingers got its gravity erased, but that’s really about it.”

     “Could you increase gravity?” Sorahiko asked, taking another bite of taiyaki.

     “Mm? No, I don’t think so,” the girl sighed, taking another mochi ball. “I tried when I was little. All I ended up with was a splitting headache.”

     “Have you tried since you got One for All?”

     “No, can’t say I have.”

     “Might be worth making an effort,” the old pro hero grunted, leaning forward to take another taiyaki. “My sworn friend found that her natural quirk changed in some fundamental ways when she was given the power. It’s possible that yours did the same. Eh, but don’t worry about it right now, though. We have all week to experiment, and you’ve been knocked around a good bit. No need to push it too soon.”

     “Hm. Well, alright then!” she grinned, and again, Sorahiko was almost blinded by the similarity to Nana. 

     He cleared his throat and glanced away. “Welp, I’m off to bed. Stick anything you don’t eat in the freezer. I’ll see you in the morning.”

     “Oh! Well, good night Torino-san! Thanks for teaching me!”

     “Yeah yeah, whatever, kid,” Sorahiko harrumphed gruffly, turning away so that she wouldn’t see his small smile. You really found a good one, eh Toshinori?

     Nana… I think you woulda liked ‘er.

Outtake:

     She was late, she was late, she was so so late!

     Sirius was supposed to be at the dock ten minutes ago with the crew to meet the new intern, but of course she missed the train and then the next one was late and now she was ducking down side alleys in an effort to save time so that she could-

     A sound.

     It was faint, even with her quirk, but it was there, and it sent her skidding to an abrupt stop. A soft, rhythmic tapping noise from somewhere above her. Most people would ignore a sound like that, but years working as a pro hero had taught her to pay attention, and there was a pattern to those quiet taps. 

     It was morse code. 

     - .-. .. --. --. . .-. / .-. ..- -. / ..... -..-. ..--- .---- / --- -.-. - --- .--. ..- ... / --.- ..- .. .-. -.- / ... . .-. .. .- .-.. / -. ..- -- -... . .-. / ---.. ....- ...-- .... ..- .-. .---- ..--- ----- -.. ....- .

     Sirius’s eyes widened as she listened to the message beginning to repeat itself, then, quickly, she fumbled for a pen and a piece of paper (which turned out to be a napkin) and began to quickly write it down. Whether it was meant for her or not, she would take full advantage of the information.

     Trigger run 5/21. Octopus quirk. Serial number 843HUR120D4E.

     After the third repetition of the message, the tapping stopped. Subtly, Sirius lifted her eyes skyward, searching for the mysterious informant. But there didn’t appear to be anyone there. Not a shape, not a shadow, not anything. Even so, as she tucked the message back into her bag and set off at a dead sprint (she had to be at least fifteen minutes late now!!), she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her.

Chapter Text

     Hosu moved and shifted like a giant anthill, a thrumming machine. Lights turned on and off, cars honked, people flowed with the rhythm of daily life. 

     It was a cesspool. A cesspool that resisted Stain's efforts to cleanse it.

     The vigilante grit his teeth as his blood boiled once again, cold fury rippling underneath his skin as he thought of those two. Phoenix and Wraith, the former had called them. The two were skilled, Chizome couldn’t deny that, and they had the conviction this society lacked. Furthermore, as vigilantes, they rejected any and all compensation and media attention. However, their goals and his fundamentally opposed one another. Those men had rejected Stain’s own convictions, and anyway, there were things about them that bothered the Hero Killer in relation to such. For example, that Phoenix guy, despite the sheer power of his quirk, seemed afraid to push it to its full potential. His leg still prickled with the pain of the burn Phoenix had inflicted on him. If that young man had truly desired to, Chizome knew he could have ended that fight in seconds.

     He could have incinerated him. 

     Of course, in and of itself, it wasn’t necessarily wrong of Phoenix to hold back in that way. The implied idealism and nobility of sparing lives wasn’t out of line with All Might’s heroism, but the result was that he’d been forced to rely on the power of another, and that was unforgivable. 

     And speaking of that ‘another’…  

     Despite burning many of his bridges in the underworld, Chizome had heard rumors of ‘Wraith’. To the villainous crowd, he was a mysterious figure that had supposedly single-handedly demolished dozens of gambling dens, drug rings, quirk-trafficking circles, blackmarket suppliers, and so on across the nation. Any unexpected dissolution of a notorious criminal organization was attributed to Wraith. He was like the boogeyman of the villainous elite, the dark knight of Japan. 

     Among the vigilante crowd, Wraith was a legend. 

     He had appeared nearly two years ago, dressed all in black and drifting around the country like his namesake. Nobody knew what he looked like or even what he sounded like (hell, some people even claimed that ‘he’ was in fact a ‘she’), as Wraith was known for communicating using only sign language and written forms of communication. He had some kind of telekinesis quirk, but no one could quite agree on what it was capable of, nor how powerful it really was. He was a master of stealth and appeared to have been highly trained in martial arts, and furthermore, it was hedged by most of its leaders that Wraith was, in fact, the man responsible for the organization of the Vigilante Network, a loose collection of vigilante cells spread throughout the country, feeding one another information by unknown means and taking assignments from an unknown central nervous system against threats in their respective regions. To be honest, most of the mysteriously destroyed criminal groups had probably been taken out by the Network. And if the rumors were true and Wraith really was the centerpoint of it all, then in a way he was the man that had destroyed them all. 

     In short, Wraith was everything that Stain preached a hero should be. He refused compensation, actively avoided media attention, rescued people even when they didn’t deserve saving, and he was powerful, judging by his ability to fend him off--Chizome hadn’t managed to cut him even once. And yet, if he was so powerful, then why had he created an entire network to do his business for him? What were his convictions, his desires? He couldn’t know until he heard the man speak, but Wraith refused to do so, no matter how many times Stain had tried to goad him. Of course, even that demonstrated his conviction, and that was something that the Hero Killer couldn’t help but admire. One way or another, he had earned Stain’s grudging deference to Ingenium’s life. It didn’t feel right to finish off the man that someone so like a true hero had fought so hard to protect. It really was strange, how much these feelings of rage intermingled with his feelings of respect. 

     The faint ripple of energy in the air around him had Chizome reacting instinctively, flicking his sword directly towards the imminent threat. 

     “Please, do not be alarmed,” a deep voice rumbled. “We are of the same mind.”

     Frowning, Chizome looked to where his katana had entered a dark body with yellowish eyes that had quite literally been formed from mist. The stranger’s body rippled slightly, but it didn’t seem to have been hurt by the blow. Offhandedly, the Hero Killer wondered if the man bled at all. If not, it would be difficult to incapacitate him if necessary. 

     “I have been searching for you, Hero Killer: Stain. I heard of your exploits, and wished to meet you in person. I think you’ll be interested in what my employers and I have to offer.”

     “And who might your employers be?” Chizome sneered, rising from his crouch, his katana still held at the ready for instant use.

     “If you would come with me,” the smoky man replied lowly, “they would be honored to have you meet them in person.”

     Stain couldn’t deny that his curiosity was piqued. Someone with something to offer him, the Hero Killer? What would they want? Was it possible that he had finally found someone that shared in his noble goals? “Fine,” he grunted. “I’ll go with you. But know this: should you so much as think of betraying me, I will destroy you.”

     “Of course. I would expect nothing less from one of such dedication.”

     Before Chizome could respond, a rush of purple-black smoke flowed from the man’s body, surrounding him. The blademaster's eyes widened in surprise as a strange sensation swept through him, almost like he was being frozen in place and yet flying forward at the same time. When he felt the world steady once again, he found himself in an alley beside the back entrance of a dirty, off-white building. 

     “This way,” the man directed, unlocking the door and leading Chizome through it. Inside, the stairwell leading upwards and the hall it was connected to were surprisingly well-maintained, if rather dimly lit. The wooden floors had been scrubbed clean, and certain areas of the walls had been expertly patched up, the only indication of damage being the lack of a recent paint job. 

     “Ah, so you made it! Thanks for running this little errand for me, Kurogiri,” a voice called eagerly as he was led through the end door into what appeared to be a darkened bar, complete with the bottles of alcohol arrayed behind the counter, glasses hanging from various racks, and a TV in the corner that was probably originally meant for watching sports or the news or whatever, but was now wired up with approximately four different game consoles. Sitting at the bar and swirling a cup of golden liquid with a three-fingered grip was a young man with bluish-white hair, black clothes, and a disembodied hand covering the bulk of his face. “It’s good to meet you, Hero Killer: Stain,” the young man practically purred, and even without seeing it, Chizome knew that he was grinning.

     “I’m afraid you’re better informed than I am,” Chizome frowned, watching out of the corner of his eye as ‘Kurogiri’, now dressed in a simple suit complete with a white shirt, black slacks, gray vest and a tie, made his way behind the bar and began cleaning a discarded glass. “Who the hell are you?”

     “I’m Shigaraki Tomura,” came the almost-flippant reply. “And I’m the guy who’s gonna tear this society apart.”

     “Really?” Chizome asked, mildly intrigued in spite of himself. “And how do you intend to do that?”

     “What do you mean how?” Shigaraki smirked, taking a sip from his drink. “It’s easy to destroy a society that’s built on top of a single pillar.”

      A single pillar, huh. Then this guy must be after… 

     “Now I get it,” Chizome sneered, his interest in this entire conversation waning even more rapidly than it had been piqued. “You must be the guys that attacked UA. And you wanna recruit me to build up your little group again.”

     “Yeah. It’ll be great; you’ve got so much experience,” the brat grinned, apparently oblivious to Chizome’s growing lack of interest.

     “And what’s your mission?”

     “For now? I really just wanna kill All Might. I like to destroy anything that pisses me off. Like this brat, here,” Shigaraki growled, raising a picture of a girl with short, bobbed brown hair and a wobbly smile wearing a silver medal around her neck. It was one of the few photos released from the UA Sports Festival this year--the headshots of the top four victors of each year. 

     Not that those kids meant anything to Stain.

     “I was a fool to think that you could offer me anything,” Chizome growled, Shigaraki’s flippant arrogance grating at his nerves. “It turns out you’re the type of person that I hate most in this world. The goals of your League are those of a child. What meaning is there to killing if you don’t have real convictions?”

     “Excuse me?” Shigaraki frowned, lowering his glass. 

     Behind the bar, Kurogiri seemed to tense, glancing quickly between Chizome and Shigaraki and setting aside the cup he had been cleaning as he turned towards the TV in the corner of the room. “Master, should I step in?” he asked no-one that Chizome could see. A moment later, the TV flickered to life on its own, revealing the words Audio Only displayed across the otherwise-blank screen. 

     “Let it happen,” a new voice replied simply. “It’s possible this is the only way he’ll learn anything. He needs to think about the ways he can grow--how he must mature. It’s the only way he’ll reach his full potential.”

     So whoever Kurogiri was really working for wasn’t going to take action. Still, there was no harm in assuring that the warping man couldn’t do anything to stop him. Too fast for either man to react, Stain sprang forward, drawing one of his many daggers from its sheath in the process. Shigaraki instinctively leaped away from him, only to realize his mistake when, instead of attacking the brat, the Hero Killer slashed Kurogiri’s arm. The warping man reeled back in surprise, blood (thankfully) seeping from the wound. Moving quickly, Stain licked the blood from his knife, freezing Kurogiri in place before turning to his brat of a boss and leaping at him. After his initial flash of surprise, Shigaraki made a grab for him, his red eyes flashing behind that hand he insisted on wearing. 

     So likely a five-point quirk. 

     Stain dodged in an instant, seizing the brat’s wrist as he continued his forward rush, knocking him to the ground and thrusting his knife into his shoulder. Shigaraki hissed in pain, but to his credit, didn’t scream. “So you want me to be a part of your crumbling little League. But you won’t accomplish anything if you don’t have conviction and desire. Without those, you’ll always be nothing: a nameless weakling. That’s how you got here.”

     “Hey now, you’re being a little rough, aren’t you?” Shigaraki panted, sounding almost petulant, like a child. “Kurogiri, take this guy back!”

      Trying to run away and relying on the power of others the moment things stop going his way. What a coward. Chizome internally scoffed. 

     “I’m sorry; I can’t move!” came the response. “It must be the Hero Killer’s quirk at work.”

     Stain allowed himself a cold smile at that, but didn’t allow the distraction to pull him away from his preaching as he drew his knife steadily closer to Shigarki’s throat. “The word ‘hero’ has lost all meaning in this society. The world is overrun by fakes and criminals chasing petty dreams. You must all be purged.”

     “Kurogiri-san, I’m- Ugh. Goddammit, I thought I told you not to try talking to the Hero Killer without me, Tenko.”

      “Don’t call me that, you little brat!”

     Chizome twisted in surprise back towards the door leading into the bar itself, where a child in a sweatshirt and jeans stood in bright red shoes, holding what appeared to be a grocery bag in one hand. “And who the hell are you supposed to be?” 

     “Deku,” came the matter-of-fact response as the boy walked up to the counter and dropped the bag beside Kurogiri, apparently uninterested in the scene before him.

     “Dammit Deku, you weren’t supposed to be back yet!” Shigaraki snarled beneath him.

     “Was the whole grocery run just a ploy to get me out of the bar, then?” Deku asked, quirking a mildly-amused eyebrow in the brat’s direction. “Well anyway, now that I’m here, should I get him off of you?”

     “Drop dead! I’ll kill this bastard myself!”

     “Someone with such a weak conviction couldn’t possibly hurt me,” Stain sneered, bringing his blade down once more. “Not to mention, someone who constantly relies on the strength of others.” He was honestly a little bit surprised when Shigaraki’s hand suddenly snapped up to grab the knife. Sure, he hadn’t taken any of the brat’s blood, but still, the pain from the knife in his shoulder should have been enough to stop him from moving, and anyway he hadn’t expected him to grip his dagger so tightly, in spite of the blood now welling up from a wound on his palm.

     “What are you talking about?” Shigaraki hissed, that blood-red eye glittering. “You think I need that bastard’s help to destroy you? Then you’re dead wrong. I’ll kill you myself!”

     Dark lines were beginning to spread across the blade of the knife. Stain watched in amazement as the metal cracked and began to give. “You sure talk a lot, Hero Killer. Conviction? Maybe I don’t have anything as loaded as that. If I had to choose a desire though, yeah, it’d be killing All Might. If this world wants to worship trash like him, then I’ll destroy their beloved Symbol of Peace and crush them while they’re in shock!”

     Stain leaped back as the knife finally crumbled to dust and Shigaraki made a swipe for his head. The bluish-haired boy staggered to his feet, grimacing as he glowered at the blood dripping down his arm and scratched at his neck with the other hand in obvious distress. “Dammit,” he hissed. “You should learn not to play with knives. We don’t have a healer in our party you know.”

     “What am I, chopped liver?” Deku rolled his eyes. “I’ll have a look at it later, Tenko. Just don’t aggravate it any more than you already have.”

     “I’d rather bleed out than let you touch me, Deku,” Shigaraki spat back. 

     “Then let Kurogiri-san do it, just stop acting like a toddler,” the curly-haired boy sighed before turning shockingly green eyes on him. “Stain, right? Would you mind if I had a word with you?”

     “What the hell, Deku!? Just let that bastard leave or drop dead or whatever the hell he wants to do; someone as crazy as him could only be a problem for the League of Villains!”

     “I’m not going to lose a potentially valuable ally just because you decided to throw a tantrum, Tenko,” Deku snorted. “Kurogiri-san, we’ll be on the roof. Take care of Tenko in the meantime.”

     Without waiting for a response from any of them, Deku strode calmly back towards the exit and held the door, looking at Chizome expectantly. In spite of himself, the Hero Killer found himself following, sheathing the knife still soaked with Shigaraki’s blood as he went. There had been something in Shigaraki, certainly. Warped and twisted, but there was some form of conviction and desire in him. But this boy, the calm authority and quiet, commanding presence he carried with him… That was intriguing.

     Deku quietly led the way through another door to another set of stairs, which then opened onto the roof. It was still midafternoon--plenty of light to make out the greenish tinge to the boy’s hair and the freckles smattered across his nose and cheeks when he turned to look back at him, leaning casually against the roof’s edge.

     “So. You’re the Arbiter of Justice. Akaguro Chizome, right?”

     Chizome flinched, his eyes blowing wide. “How the hell-”

     “It’s in my job description,” Deku shrugged back. “I’m the League’s analyst. Speaking of which, your quirk is really cool; what do you call it? You consume the blood of your opponents to paralyze them, right? And either the amount of blood consumed or their blood type determines how long you can keep them pinned--not enough data to tell. If the latter, then just judging by how long you kept Kurogiri-san down, I’m guessing your max is at around seven or eight minutes, and your minimum… maybe two? One and a half?”

     Stain had two daggers in his hands when he dropped into a crouch, eyes narrowed and teeth bared in a snarl. How the hell did he know!?! 

     “Geez, calm down,” Deku snorted softly, his body still completely and utterly relaxed, not so much as a hint of fear in those vibrant green eyes. As much as he hated to admit it, Stain was mildly impressed by that. “If I wanted you dead or arrested, you would be already. I’m not here to make enemies, Akaguro-san.” 

     “What the hell are you? You got some kind of analysis quirk or something?”

     Deku huffed in quiet laughter. “That’s a trade secret, Akaguro-san. I wouldn’t be much of an informant if everyone knew where and how I got my information, now would I?”

     “Little brat,” Chizome growled, hoping to conceal just how off-balance the boy’s revelation had caused him to feel.

     "Stooping to personal abuse does not become you, Akaguro-san. Considering your years working as Stendahl, I'd have thought you were above all that."

     “If you’re going to flaunt your knowledge of me, then it’s only fair that I know of you, right?”

     “Nice try, but you’re in our house, remember? And besides-” something sad shadowed Deku’s eyes as he glanced away, “-the bright-eyed little kid I once was is long gone,” he murmured. “I’ve seen far too much of this world’s darkness to ever go back. Of course, I don’t have to explain that to you.”

     Chizome found himself hesitating, frowning at the boy’s wry little smile. Was the child just telling him what he wanted to hear? Or was he sincere? There was a sense of genuineness to the kid, but those emerald green eyes seemed too guarded to give up the truth so readily. “What the hell are you getting at, brat?” he frowned, irritated by how difficult it was to read the boy.

     “You already know from your conversation with Tenko why you’re here. The League of Villains has use for your skills, Hero Killer: Stain. As an entity, we are not so much offering you membership as proposing a partnership.”

     “A partnership?” Chizome frowned. “Why should I accept such an offer from the likes of you after what that crazy moron said downstairs?”

     “I would’ve thought you’d realized by now that I am not Tenko,” Deku replied flatly, almost bitterly. “Tenko cares only for wanton violence. His vision of an ideal world is one where everyone lives and dies by blood. I seek a world that defends the hopes of the disenfranchised of this society. I fight for a world that embraces one another's differences, and people are evaluated for more than just the strength of their quirk.” The boy’s eyes seemed to burn as he spoke of his convictions. For the first time, Stain felt himself shudder internally, captured by that brilliant light, the strength of the boy’s resolve. And yet… 

     “And you believe that becoming a villain was the best way to see that world made?” Chizome frowned at him. He really sounded far too idealistic to be in with someone like Shigaraki, or even generally a group whose aim was to destroy the Symbol of Peace.  

     “Yes. In that sense, Akaguro-san, we’re somewhat alike. We know that any society must first be destroyed in order to be remade.” 

     He was right in that much, at least. He found himself wanting to believe him, but before that could happen… I must know how sincere he truly is.

     In a flash, Stain rushed forward, his sword whipping from its sheath. Seemingly in less than a millisecond, Deku dropped his carefree demeanor, his brilliant green eyes turning sharp and cold and blazing with light as he prepared to meet the Hero Killer. Still, Stain knew as he swung the blade that it was too little too late. The boy had no armor of any kind; he couldn’t possibly-

     His sword skated off of Deku’s skin.

     Stain’s eyes widened in shock. He’d cut the boy’s sweatshirt; that much was clear. A hardening quirk? But he-

     Deku grabbed his wrist. 

     In a flash, the boy had twisted Chizome’s arm behind his back, spun him off balance, and thrown him over his shoulder, sending his back slamming into the ground and thoroughly knocking the wind out of him. Before Stain could recover, the boy was on him once again, his knee digging into his chest, one hand gripping his throat with a warning pressure, the other holding one of Stain’s own daggers between his eyes. Deku’s own eyes were still glowing that radioactive shade of emerald, and a small smile was curling his lips. 

     “Too predictable, Akaguro-san,” he whispered. “You believe that the only way to see a person’s true nature is to bring them to the verge of death. Seeing as that role has been reversed, I suppose now it’s my chance to see your nature, Hero Killer. 

     “You’re a fanatic. You worship All Might as a god just like the rest of this rotting society, and to be perfectly honest, I don’t particularly like the idea of working with you, either. You believe just like everyone else that anyone who can’t in some way live up to the impossible standard All Might has created doesn’t even deserve to exist in the society he represents. You don’t seem to realize that even though All Might may be the Symbol of Peace for some, for many others he is, quite simply, a symbol of despair--a reminder of the futility they were born into. So, in order to destroy the society that keeps them trapped, the pillar keeping it aloft must also come tumbling down.”

     “In that case,” Stain choked past the pressure on his chest and his lungs’ reluctance to expand, “it seems our goals may fundamentally oppose one another.”

     “You may be right about that,” Deku chuckled humorlessly, “seeing as how your only criteria for determining a false hero seems to be arbitrarily deciding whether or not they’re living up to that impossible standard.” Stain growled softly at the implication in the boy’s words, but Deku merely smiled again and rose to his feet, casually tucking Stain’s knife in his sweatshirt pocket and walking back to the edge of the roof, quietly watching the people hurrying through the streets below. “Still, as little as I like you and your methods, you and I still have something the other wants.”

     Still wheezing, Chizome forcibly began to push himself upright once more, ignoring the instinct to check his throat for a bruise. “In what way?” he gasped.

     “Tell me, Akaguro-san, do you keep track of what the news reports concerning your kills?”

     “What do you mean?”

     “Neurocleaver, Watt Punch, and Hornet Burn. I don’t approve of all your targets, but even I’ll admit that those three had shady records, Watt Punch in particular; there was substantial evidence to him being an alcoholic and consistently abusing his wife. However, do you know what the media has been saying about him?”

     “No, I can’t say I do,” Chizome admitted, frowning at him. 

     “In the past month alone, there have been three media outlets inundating the web and the press with praise for his heroic acts and stories about how he left behind a wife and two kids--without a word on the rumors of abuse, I might add--on top of which two film companies have started fighting for rights to make a documentary about him. In short, they’re taking your statements and turning them into epitaphs on the graves of martyrs.”

     Chizome felt himself bristle in irritation at this news, growling softly. “Idiots,” he hissed under his breath.

     “On that, we most definitely agree,” Deku nodded, his expression souring. “On that note, I believe that is where we may be able to help one another. You’re not going to be able to truly change anything if your ideals continue going unheard, Akaguro-san. We have the notoriety to give you a platform to make your convictions known. Meanwhile you have the skills to remove certain nuisances from the League’s path.”

     “You’re asking me to be your assassin.” 

     “I suppose, more or less.”

     “Bah,” Stain sneered. “I don’t take commissions, brat. There is no meaning to killing without conviction. I only hunt heroes that stand solely for money and fame. Heroes that claim to fight for the people but in truth only fight for themselves.”

     “Yes, we’ve established that,” Deku sighed, rolling his eyes slightly, “and I don’t disagree with your motives, Akaguro-san. Frankly, it was heroes failing in their duty that brought me to this point as well. That is why I don’t think you would be adverse to the types of people I would assign you to hunt down.”

     “And what makes you say that?”

     “In order to show its people just how rotten this society has become and the necessity of change, I intend to discredit those heroes that, as you put it, ‘stand solely for money and fame’. Heroes like Watt Punch, Vermillion… and Endeavor.”

     Chizome’s eyes widened. That… That was an ambitious goal. Again, in spite of all of his suspicions and doubts, he found himself intrigued by the thought. “You really think you could defeat the number two hero?”

     Deku smiled, and the expression was that of the devil himself. “Easily.”

     Once again, Stain felt a shiver run down his spine. He may only be a child, but for some reason, Chizome didn’t doubt him. This boy… he could do it. If given free rein over society, he could change the world. He could reform it. Stain felt a similar, wide grin stretch across his face.  

     “Perhaps I will consider your offer,” he conceded. “Still, I will require some time to think it over. In the meantime, I would like to be returned to Hosu. There are still some false heroes that I must purge.”

     “Of course, Akaguro-san,” Deku nodded. “Take all the time you need. When you’re ready to make your decision-” a wicked smirk curled his mouth “-I’ll know.”

Outtake:

     Kurogiri had just finished cleaning Shigaraki Tomura’s blood from his hands and had been preparing to clean his own cut when he received a page from Deku. Immediately, he allowed his warpgate to flow out of him and, in little more than a blink, he was standing on the rooftop alongside the League’s young analyst and the Hero Killer. 

     “You summoned me, Deku?”

     “Send the Hero Killer back to Hosu, Kurogiri-san. We’ve concluded our business for now.”

     “Very well,” Kurogiri nodded agreeably, summoning the appropriate warpgate. 

     “We’ll be in touch, Akaguro-san,” Deku said simply as the Hero Killer: Stain stepped into it.

     “I look forward to it,” was the Hero Killer’s only reply before the gate closed behind him. 

     A brief silence descended between the two of them before Deku sighed deeply, leaning back against the wall and running his fingers through his curly hair. “Did the negotiations go well, then?” Kurogiri asked.

     “He said that he’ll consider our proposal,” the young man shrugged in reply. “Ultimately, that’s about the best outcome the League could have hoped for.”

     “What do you think of him?”

     “I think he’s an arrogant hypocrite that doesn’t even realize how badly he’s contradicting himself,” Deku replied, his eyes narrowing into a glare as he stared over the city, “especially considering what he did to Ingenium. He sees Heroes as gods entirely without the capacity for change, and anyone that shows even the slightest hint of mortal fallibility must not be worthy of the title. Personally, I prefer it when Heroes don’t pretend to be anything more than they really are: human. Still, like I said to Tenko, I wasn’t going to let a temper tantrum rob the League of a potentially valuable asset. Least of all my own.” 

     “In that case, I appreciate you stepping in when you did.”

     “Don’t mention it,” Deku sighed, pushing himself off of the wall. He glanced Kurogiri over, his eyes fixating on his still-wounded arm. “Let’s see to that,” he said, gesturing towards the injury and taking the lead back down the stairs to the bar. 

     Kurogiri never quite understood that. Even though it would be much faster and easier for the boy to use his warping ability, he never asked Kurogiri to use it unless it was for long-range travel. Still, the shadow-man complied, following the boy back to the taproom where Shigaraki Tomura was already immersed in another videogame and taking a seat on one of the bar stools while Deku washed his hands and fetched the first aid kit. In silence, he watched as Deku used an alcohol wipe to swab his arm and swiped it with an antibacterial cream before sealing it closed with butterfly strips and covering the lot with a gauze patch and a bandage. 

     “I’ll change it later,” Deku murmured as he packed the supplies away, rolling his eyes as Shigaraki Tomura swore at the TV screen. “For now, I still have work to do. I’ll be back tonight.”

     “Do you need me to transport you anywhere?” Kurogiri offered, rolling his sleeve back over his tended arm. 

     Deku paused, considering. “Would you send me to Tokyo? Perhaps near Ginza? It’s usually a good place to practice my analyses.”

     “Certainly. Just let me know when you wish to return.”

     “Thank you, Kurogiri-san.”

     Once Deku’s warpgate had vanished, Shigaraki Tomura lowered his controller. “So? What happened?” he asked quietly.

     “The Hero Killer: Stain is considering joining us.”

     Shigaraki Tomura snarled, the controller turning to dust in his hands as he gripped it too tightly. “That bastard… and that brat… No… No, I can’t accept this. I won’t accept this,” he growled, rising to his feet. “Master, how many Nomu are completed?”

Chapter Text

     All things considered, Hosu seemed… too quiet. 

     Well not quiet, but… peaceful. Tenya honestly wasn’t certain what he had been expecting, but the amount of peace was somehow almost… oppressive. The world kept spinning. The sun kept rising and setting. The people kept going about their regular routines: school, work, and so on. It was like… like nothing had happened. Like a serial killer hadn’t struck the city less than two weeks earlier.

     Like Tensei hadn’t meant anything.

     He tried to shove such thoughts out of his head. Tensei was still alive. He was actually much better off than any of the Hero Killer’s previous victims had been. And anyway, it wasn’t like nothing had changed with the Hero Killer’s attack. At least, that was what Manual seemed to be saying.

     “On a normal day, I’d just be waiting for client calls to come in--not really exciting--but things have been fairly hectic here lately,” the Normal Hero was explaining cheerfully, glancing over his shoulder at his intern

     “So you’re using street patrols to suppress crime,” Tenya concluded.

     “Yeah, exactly,” Manual grinned. “Man, I kinda can’t believe that Ingenium's little brother is interning at my agency. I’m sure you had offers from pros with much bigger followings than mine.”

     Tenya didn’t really feel like it would be wise of him to answer that. That was true, although he hadn’t actually gotten a lot of offers to begin with. Still, that was fine with him. This was the only place he wanted to intern. After all, he had a mission here.

     He would track down the monster that had hurt his brother. He would find him and bring him to justice for his deplorable crimes. As a matter of fact, if he had his way, he would dispose of the villain with his own hands. He knew that he might not find him, but in all of the places the Hero Killer: Stain had appeared up to that point, he’d always attacked at least four pro heroes. That meant he was likely to show up in Hosu again. Now, Tenya could only hope that he would encounter the murderer while he was here.

     Although three days later, even he would admit that it was starting to feel a little hopeless. 

     “Hey,” Manual began hesitantly as they started their patrol of Kiyoto, “This is kinda hard to ask, but… you’re after the Hero Killer, aren’t you.”

     Tenya froze, staring at his mentor in flat shock. “How did you…”

     “Well,” the Normal Hero chuckled nervously, “I couldn’t think of any other reason why you’d come to my agency. U-Uh! I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad you did, but… you shouldn’t be pursuing personal grudges.”

     Tenya blinked, taken aback by the sudden gravity in his voice. 

     “We heroes don’t have authority to arrest or punish people,” his mentor continued. “The only reason we’re allowed to use our quirks at all is because of the regulations put on them. That’s why, no matter how noble the reason may be, a hero must not use their quirk for themselves. If a pro used their power for their own selfish desires, it would be a very serious crime.”

     Manual kept Tenya pinned by his dark eyes for another thirty seconds or so before he broke. “Uh-! I’m not saying that the Hero Killer isn’t incredibly guilty or anything! You just seem like the earnest type, you know?! I’d hate for you to focus on one goal and ignore everything else,” he chuckled anxiously. 

     “Thank you,” Tenya bowed deeply, biting the inside of his lip and hoping that his mentor wouldn’t be able to tell. “I appreciate it.”

     “Oh, it’s fine as long as you get what I’m saying! So, are we good?”

      Tenya grit his teeth, unable to bring himself to reply. What was he supposed to do with the hatred boiling through his veins if he couldn’t act?! That seething anger continued to froth and churn like a geyser throughout the day, waiting impatiently for its time to be released. 

     That being said, Tenya did not expect that time to come the way it did. 

     “What the heck is going on?” somebody murmured as Tenya followed Manual down another main road. Night had already crept up on them, as often seemed to happen in the early Spring.  Confused, the hero intern glanced up, then followed the speaker's gaze to look behind them, where a red glow could be seen burning against the sky. “Is there some sort of fire?”

     “A fire?” Manual frowned, turning as well. “But then, shouldn't I have been called in by now?” He paused, his head automatically tilting slightly to the side as he raised a hand towards the comms link in his helmet. Abruptly, he stiffened. “What did you say?! Villains appeared!?”

     Tenya's eyes widened inside his helmet. Villains? Could it be-

      No. No, this is different. That murderer wouldn’t be so flashy. A giant fire and villains going on a rampage, that seems… that seems more like the-

     “Tenya, stay with me!” Manual ordered, pulling the boy from his distracted thoughts. “We’re running!” 

     “R-Right!” Tenya hurried after his mentor, forcing down the temptation to activate his quirk and get to the disturbance as fast as possible. It wouldn’t do for him to outpace his-

     A glint of light. 

     It was only a momentary distraction, but it was enough to drive all thoughts of the fire and its implications out of his head. Tenya’s eyes widened as the renewed rush of adrenaline poured through his veins. In an instant, Engine had fired off, power transforming into speed and sending him flying down the narrow alley, directly towards the man festooned with knives and a blood red scarf.

     “…choose your last words with-”

     The man suddenly whirled around, dodging Tenya’s ferocious kick and slashing with his chipped katana, sending his helmet and glasses flying and knocking him to the ground as he overbalanced.

     “Who are you? A child wearing a suit?” the Hero Killer sneered. “Run. Run away from here. This is not a place for children.”

     “You’re carrying blades all over your body, and you’re wearing a blood-red scarf. You must be the Hero Killer: Stain,” Tenya didn’t even bother holding back a low snarl as he pushed himself up. “It is you, right? I’ve been looking for you. I am-”

     Tenya couldn’t help flinching as the katana appeared before him once again, crimson red eyes bearing into him as he growled softly, “Your eyes are searing with vengeance. Be careful what you say next. If need be, even someone your age could be my target.”

     That seething anger and hatred flared once more in Tenya’s chest at the implicit dismissal, the assertion that Stain could kill him with a mere thought. (He quickly stamped down on the reminder that the Hero Killer was skillful enough to succeed in killing seventeen pro heroes and crippling twenty-two others, not to mention he’d nearly done the same to Tenya’s own brother.) Gritting his teeth, the hero-in-training pushed himself to his feet, no longer able to hold back the words that had been clawing at his throat for weeks now. 

     “You listen to me, criminal: I am the brother of an incredible hero who you attacked. He’s the best older brother that anyone could hope for. A caring person who saved many lives--someone people looked up to!! I have come to stop you, because he can’t fight anymore. I will defeat you, and I will succeed the legacy of Ingenium. That I promise!” 

     A light of contempt filled the Hero Killer’s eyes as he turned to face the young man fully. “Ingenium,” he sneered. “So you’re brothers, are you? I decided to let him live out of respect for the hero that fought to protect him, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a weakling, just like you are.”

     The rage was blinding, all-consuming. Almost without Tenya’s conscious thought, his quirk activated and he rushed forward, ready to crush the Hero Killer with a single blow, a raw scream that sounded something like ‘for Tensei!’ ripping from his throat as he swung his leg in a vicious kick. He almost didn’t register the fact that the Hero Killer suddenly wasn’t there anymore. He’d leaped into the air, dodging the strike easily before kicking forward, sinking the spiked tips of his boots into Tenya’s shoulder before striking his back hard enough to knock him to the ground and thoroughly knock the wind out of him.

     “You aren’t heroes,” Stain grunted as he pressed his foot against Tenya’s head and raised his katana. “You have no right to be called that. Both of you are nothing but fakes.”

     Tenya cried out in pain as the Hero Killer’s blade came down, thrusting deeply into his left shoulder. “Sh-Shut up, villain!” the boy gasped as he struggled to get his air back; struggled to move. “You… You damaged his arm so badly… he’ll never be able to use his quirk like he used to. He… He can’t be the hero he was before. You had… no right to take all of that away from him! You had no right… to decide he was a false hero! I won’t forgive you! I’ll… I’ll kill you!”

     The Hero Killer removed his sword. 

     Tenya didn’t have time to think about why. He just grabbed Stain’s ankle on his head with his uninjured arm and yanked, forcing the murderer to step back and give him room to surge to his- 

     His entire body went rigid. 

     Tenya choked, frozen in a half-kneeling position, suddenly entirely unable to breathe between the force of the earlier hit and whatever this was. He heard the Hero Killer scoff above him, but couldn’t raise his head to see his expression. Instead, all he could see was the tip of his bloody sword as he swung it to indicate a spot that Tenya could barely see in his peripheral vision. There, a man lay slumped against the brick wall of the alley, dressed in a dark brown bodysuit with red markings painted on his face. 

      How…? How long has he been there? He doesn’t seem to be moving… and his eyes are closed… Is he unconscious? How much blood has he lost?

     “You truly are a false hero. You were so busy with your grudge that you didn’t even notice him. You plan to use your quirk only for yourself, completely blinded by a selfish desire for revenge. You’re about as far away from being a hero as I can imagine, and that’s why you’ll die tonight.”

     “S-Say whatever you want to about me!” Tenya choked past the frustrated tears filling his throat and the increasing sense of panic in his chest --I’m going to die I couldn’t stop him I’m sorry Tensei-- “You’re still just a criminal who hurt my brother!”

     “Goodbye, child,” Stain hissed, the tip of his blade resting alongside the young man’s throat. “May your death bring about a better world.”

      No! Not like this-!

     “Haaah!!!”

     “Oof!!”

     Tenya’s breath hitched in shock as he felt a strange surge of energy swirl around him, powerful enough to cause even his immobilized body to shift, dragging his head up. Even stranger was the bright pink light swirling in front of him, only to fade away and reveal a familiar figure in a pink hero costume, her short brown hair seeming to float around her and her body already shifting into a defensive fighting stance. 

     “U… Uraraka?!” Tenya gasped. “H-How?”

     His friend spared a brief glance over her shoulder, giving him a glimpse of bright brown eyes before she returned her attention to the enemy further down the alley. 

     “Don’t worry, Tenya-kun!” she declared, a quiet sense of determination rolling off of her. “I won't let him hurt you!”

     “What are you doing here?!”

     “Saving you; what else?!” she snapped back, a thread of anxiety registering in her waspishness. “Now hurry up and get up! We have to get out of here and find the pros!”

     “I… I can’t move. Ever since he cut me, I’ve been paralyzed; it must be his quirk,” Tenya gasped, squinting past her to where the Hero Killer was regaining his composure, frowning at Uraraka with almost thoughtful, narrowed eyes. He couldn’t let her stay here; he couldn’t let her risk getting hurt. “Uraraka, please, don’t get involved! This doesn’t have anything to do with you!”

     “Doesn’t have-?” Uraraka shot him an incredulous look, almost disgusted. “Of course it has everything to do with me! You’re my friend Tenya! I’m not gonna leave you behind!”

     “You showed up to save your friend’s life,” Stain mused thoughtfully. “You even made a big entrance. But I have a duty to kill him and this so-called pro. When your friend chose to fight me, it guaranteed that the weaker of us would be culled. So, what will you do?”

     Tenya saw Uraraka flinch slightly, likely intimidated by the bloodlust radiating from the villain watching them, but he knew how stubborn she could be, remembered the stories of how she had leapt straight towards one of the leaders of the League of Villains to protect All Might, watched her slip her phone behind her back and send a text to who-knew-who, and knew that she wasn’t going to back down just because of that. “Listen to me!” he cried desperately, “Stand down and run away!”

     “I can’t do that, Tenya-kun,” Uraraka whispered, tucking her phone into a pocket on her belt and curling her hands into fists. “I’m pretty mad at you for doing something this stupid on your own, but I guess that’s kinda my fault for not being there for you sooner. Still, now that I’m here, I’m not going to run and leave you both to die. It’s like All Might told me: meddling when you don’t have to is the mark of a hero!”

     A chill seemed to run down Tenya’s spine at his classmate’s words, and even more so as that pink light flared to life around her again, swirling around her body and seemingly tugging against his. So he hadn’t been imagining that feeling earlier. But what the heck was this? He’d known that her quirk had been growing stronger since the Sports Festival, but wasn’t it emitted through her hands? So what was this light? Where had it come from?

       What is happening to my friend?

     Uraraka charged towards the Hero Killer, as though completely unafraid of the threat he posed. For a moment, Tenya was shocked; she was moving far faster than he’d ever seen before, as though gravity didn’t have any hold on her, and was he imagining the way the objects she passed seemed to shudder and shift towards her, as though drawn by some vast, invisible force?

     “No!” Tenya cried, suddenly yanked back to the present as Stain pulled his sword back and dragged another dagger from its sheath, ready to strike. “If you get cut-!”

     “3% Gravity Field!”

     Tenya watched, wide-eyed, as Uraraka suddenly swept underneath Stain’s blades, making a grab for him and forcing him to leap back, only to stumble in surprise as the pink light surrounding Tenya’s friend seemed to snatch at him and drag him back in. Still, the Hero Killer recovered from the shock quickly, slashing with the katana the moment that he was pulled into range and forcing Uraraka to duck again, leaving her at too awkward of a position to grab him. Still, a moment later they were facing one another again, and she was ready to attack, her eyes glowing golden with determination and a new knowledge of his fighting style and technique. 

     Only, suddenly, Uraraka froze, her eyes blowing wide as her knees buckled and she collapsed into a kneeling position, shock and horror twisting her face. “Wh-What?” she gasped, fighting to breathe, and horror flooded Tenya’s own veins as he realized what had happened. “But… j-just a graze was enough to… fr-freeze me…?”

     “Heh. You’re not so bad, kid,” the Hero Killer said as he lowered his dagger from his face, and Tenya wanted to shudder as he sensed the smile in the tone of his voice, “but you’re not powerful enough to defeat me. I’ll admit, I was taken off guard by that gravity field trick of yours, but you haven’t had enough training to use it properly. Still, even with all the countless heroes around here that are all talk, I think you’re worthy of staying alive. At any rate, you’re definitely different from these two.”

     “W-Wait!” Uraraka gasped, the muscles in her arms and legs straining as she tried to move, the fear in her eyes increasing as Stain turned and began to march inexorably towards Tenya, his red eyes gleaming in cold satisfaction. “Wait, stop! Don’t touch him!”

     “Time to finish things,” the Hero Killer smiled, almost smug as he raised his sword once more. Tenya clenched his eyes shut, unable to face his friend as her shrill scream rang through the alleyway.

     “Get away from him!!”

     Heat suddenly blazed against Tenya’s back and he sensed the Hero Killer leap away once again, clicking his tongue in irritation. “Someone else to get in my way,” he growled. “Today’s been full of distractions.”

     “Uraraka,” a familiar, low voice rang through the darkness, even though Tenya couldn’t see the speaker. “You need to give more details in times like this. I was almost too late to stop this guy.”

     “Oh thank God, Todoroki!” Uraraka gasped, tears in her voice. “And… you’re using your fire?!”

     “Yeah. Not something I enjoy, but sometimes necessary.”

     “You’re here too, Todoroki?” Tenya gulped. “But how’d you…?”

     “How’d I get here? Been wondering the same thing. Next time Uraraka, try to send more information than just your location. But you’re not the type to send cryptic messages without a reason, so I figured you must be in trouble and asking for help.” 

     Tenya gasped as the air suddenly turned cold and ice swept across the ground beside him, forced the Hero Killer to leap back even further and then lifted Uraraka and the pro hero that had been injured earlier, who seemed to be finally regaining consciousness, forming into a ramp to bring their paralyzed bodies sliding over to Tenya while flames flew over their heads to cover their escape. “Everything will be okay!” Todoroki assured them, his voice much closer than it had been, then suddenly their classmate was standing in front of them, his base set and his stance defensive, just like Uraraka’s had been. “The pro heroes should be here any minute!”

     “Another child? Can't the 'heroes' fight their own battles in this city?”

     “You’re just what they said you were. But you won’t be taking any more lives, Hero Killer.”

     “Todoroki-kun!” Uraraka cried suddenly, grunting like she was trying to move again but couldn’t, “You can’t let that guy cut you! I think that’s how he controls people!”

     “He cuts people to keep them from moving? That explains the blades. So all I gotta do is keep my distance. Ngh!”

     Tenya choked in horror as a knife suddenly flashed by Todoroki’s face, barely dodged in time, but still forming a new cut across his classmate’s cheek, exposing his blood to the air.

     “You have good friends Ingenium! Or you did!”

     Todoroki barely had enough time to throw up an ice barrier to block his next strike, then a wall of flames to drive the Hero Killer back when he grabbed the two-tones boy's shoulder.

     "Y-You're not… Frozen?"

      It's too much. 

     "The blood," Todoroki realized suddenly. "It's not the cut, it's the blood!"

      It's too much to watch, too much to ask my friends to keep fighting, to keep getting hurt over a personal battle.

     “Stop it!” Tenya grated out through gritted teeth. “Why are you doing this?! His fight is with me! I will inherit my brother’s name! I’m the one that should stop him!”

     “So you’ll be the new Ingenium?” Todoroki seemed to scoff, ending a flame blast and sending out a massive wall of ice not unlike the one that stopped Tenya cold at the Sports Festival. “Strange. The Ingenium I knew never had that look on his face.”

      What… What does he mean by that? What look? What’s so wrong about wanting to avenge my brother? About destroying him!?

     “You’ve got a dark side, Iida. Guess my family isn’t the only one.”

     “Todoroki-kun!!”

     Tenya’s eyes snapped up at Uraraka’s warning cry to where the top portion of his classmate’s ice wall seemed to explode, revealing the Hero Killer leaping towards them once again, rapidly closing the distance. “You blocked your own field of vision against an opponent who’s faster than you! Rookie mistake!”

     “Come and get me, then! Ugh!” 

     Two daggers slammed into Todoroki’s left arm, destroying his concentration and vaporizing his flames in an instant. “You’re good, kid!” the murderer acknowledged. “Kinda remind me of that Phoenix guy!”

     Todoroki stiffened with his right hand halfway to the knives. “Phoenix-?”

     The Hero Killer was diving straight towards the fallen pro hero nearby, katana at the ready to kill him. Todoroki seemed dazed; he couldn’t react in time, and he and Uraraka still couldn’t move.

      No, no, he’s going to die!

     “NO!!!”

     “What the-?!”

     Tenya didn’t see it clearly, but he did see the sudden flare of bright pink light as Stain was wrenched off course, then his eyes widened in horror at the scream of pain that clawed at his ears, followed immediately by Todoroki’s yell of, “Uraraka!!” and the roar of flames that forced the Hero Killer to leap away again, this time behind Tenya so that he couldn’t quite see what was going on. 

     “Uraraka, talk to me!” Todoroki cried, his normally deadpan voice gaining a quality almost like panic. “What’s your condition?!”

     “It… It’s not as b-bad as it could be,” she gasped back, although her voice was tight with pain, “but I… I can’t st-top the bleeding like th-his.”

     Out of the corner of his eye, Tenya could see a little bit of what had happened and deduce most of the rest. Uraraka, lying face up on the ground, her legs twisted to the side from where Todoroki’s ice had brought her, must have used this strange new Gravity Field of hers to yank the Hero Killer towards her instead of the pro hero. With him unable to change course and her unable to dodge, his katana had sliced straight through her hero costume and cut deeply into her left side. It was impossible to see the full extent of the damage, but by the amount of blood alone, it was significant. 

     “Ura-raka…” Tenya gasped, his voice breaking in multiple places at the horror of her self-sacrifice. “Why… Why did you…?”

     Even at this angle, he could just make out her weak, wobbly smile. “B-Because… Because we’re heroes, Tenya-k-kun. Saving people… it’s what we’re sup-posed to do.”

     Tenya’s breath hitched, his eyes widening. He could feel tears on his cheeks. “Uraraka…”

     “Dammit,” Stain growled softly somewhere behind them. “She shouldn’t have been able to use her quirk. And anyway, I didn’t want to strike her. She’s the only true hero of the three of them.”

     “Then maybe you shouldn’t have tried to murder someone when we were here to take a stand!” Todoroki snarled back. Tenya could still feel the alternating heat and cold of his attacks, his quirk working overtime to try to keep the Hero Killer back. He heard another cry of pain and Todoroki was suddenly thrown past him once again with that murderer crouched on his chest, preparing to lick Todoroki’s blood from his arm.

     I-I have to move! I have to stop this, I have to protect my friends-!

     “Oof!”

     Tenya stared, shocked, as the Hero Killer was suddenly thrown off of his classmate by an invisible force. It wasn’t very far, barely a couple of meters, but it still happened. Confused and still in a state of panic, Tenya would have flinched if he wasn’t still paralyzed as a dark figure rushed between him and Uraraka, leaping into the air and twisting his body so that his foot met Stain’s face just as he was beginning to regain his feet, knocking him back even further. This time, the Hero Killer managed to retain his balance though, sliding backwards another few meters, but still clutching his katana in one hand. Tenya’s eyes only widened as the black-clad figure seemed to literally launch himself forward, almost as though he were using some kind of springboard, not giving the Hero Killer any chance at regaining his bearings before he drove a punch into the murderer’s stomach, sending him doubling over with a choked gasp. A strangled cry escaped Tenya’s throat as he saw a glint of metal and knew that the Hero Killer must have tried to cut him, but, amazingly, the stranger seemed completely unphased by the attack, merely bracing his stance and thrusting his hand outward. 

     Stain’s eyes seemed to widen as he was thrown backwards a good ten meters or more, tumbling and rolling across the asphalt and nearly losing his grip on his sword. Honestly, Tenya was surprised that he didn’t cry out in pain; a blow powerful enough to do that couldn’t have felt very good. Still, it seemed strange, considering that he hadn’t struck the Hero Killer physically. The only possibility was if he had… 

     …a telekinesis quirk. 

     “Who…? Who are you?” Uraraka’s voice gasped, weak and trembling.

     “Are you a pro? Did Endeavor send you?” Todoroki’s joined her, ragged with adrenaline as he shakily rolled onto his side and pushed himself to his feet. 

     So then, it would seem that Stain hadn’t managed to get Todoroki’s blood just then.  

     “No, I don’t think so,” the pro hero gasped nearby. “I… I don’t recognize him.”

     “You again?!” the Hero Killer coughed as he pushed himself to his knees. “Why do you insist on getting in my way?!”

     “No way,” Tenya whispered, eyes widening as the newcomer glanced briefly towards them, moonlight glinting off of his darkly-tinted visor.

     ‘It was a vigilante duo that saved me.’

     “You’re…”

     ‘One of them was telekinetic.’

     “You’re him,” Tenya breathed. “The vigilante that saved my brother.”

     “Wait, really?!” Todoroki spluttered at the same time as Uraraka.

      ‘Phoenix and-’

     “-Wraith.”

     “Watch out!”

     The Hero Killer was charging at them again, leaping impossibly high into the air to come at them from above. In a flash, Wraith was moving too as he crouched down and was suddenly rising into the air to meet him. 

     His quirk is strong enough to levitate himself?! Tenya couldn’t follow them with his eyes anymore; they were too high up, leaving Tenya to obsess over the fact that one of the men that had saved Tensei was right here in front of him!

      'Just don't scold them too much for using their quirks without a license.'

     Oh. He'd almost forgotten that what Wraith was doing was illegal. He was a vigilante, after all. He shouldn’t be fighting a pro hero’s battle. 

     But… then again, isn’t that exactly what I just tried to do? No… 

     No, Wraith was different. Tenya had a vendetta. Wraith… just wanted to save people. Unbidden, the Hero Killer’s words from earlier came back to him. ‘I decided to let him live out of respect for the hero that fought to protect him.’ He hadn’t been referring to a pro hero, had he. He had meant Wraith. Wraith, who had saved Tensei’s life. Wraith, who had just leaped into this battle with nothing to gain. Wraith, who was willing to break the law, not for vengeance, but to protect others. 

      ‘You forgot all about him.’

     That was what the Hero Killer had said when Tenya realized there was someone else in the alley, and it was true. Shame flooded Tenya’s veins. This vigilante was more of a hero than he had ever been. He didn’t deserve this kindness. He didn’t deserve their help. My friends and a total stranger are protecting me. They’re bleeding for me. I can’t… I can’t possibly call myself a hero now. I was too focused on myself to help anyone else, too consumed with revenge to see what really mattered.

     ‘I wanted to be the kind of guy that helped other people.’ That’s what Tensei had said once. 

     He was nothing like his brother.

     “Todoroki,” he whispered, and the two-toned boy’s head snapped immediately towards him. “Take Uraraka and run. Please. I can’t… I can’t keep dragging you into this.”

     Todoroki’s heterochromatic eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in anger. “When are you going to get it through your head that we’re not leaving you behind?!” he snarled, turning back towards the fight to throw a blast of fire the Hero Killer’s way. “You wanna be a hero, Iida? You wanna make your brother proud? Then stand up! Stand up, and become the hero he wanted you to be!”

     Tenya’s eyes widened. 

     ‘Become the hero he wanted you to be.’ 

     His fingers curled into fists.

      If I don’t stand up right now, I’ll never be able to stand alongside my friends!

     “Wraith, on your right!”

     I’ll never be worthy of my brother’s name!

     “T-Todoroki-kun…!”

     His legs gathered underneath him.

     “He’s too close-!”

     “Recipro Burst!!”

     In seconds, Tenya had come between Wraith and the Hero Killer, who had been about to slash the former’s arm. A single turbo-charged kick was all it took to shatter the katana, sending the man staggering away, red irises sharply contracted. In an instant, Wraith had leaped forward once again. Tenya heard himself involuntarily cry out as a flash of moonlight glinted off another of the Hero Killer's daggers, shattering a portion of Wraith’s visor, but the vigilante didn’t stop, his hand closing around Stain’s throat.

     The murderer suddenly seemed to choke, his eyes blowing wide as he collapsed backwards, Wraith still crouched on top of him. Tenya stared in shock as the man gasped, his jaw flapping like a landed fish, the rest of his body suspiciously still. “What… What did you…?” the man panted, something like panic in his eyes.

     “What’s happened to him?” Tenya asked the vigilante. “Is this… Is this part of your quirk?”

     Wraith didn’t answer. Come to think of it, he hadn’t said a word this entire time. Instead, he casually drew the last of Stain’s knives from its sheath, turning his grip on it so that the blade was facing upwards. 

     “What are you-?!”

     Tenya flinched, cutting himself off at the meaty thud! that could be heard as Wraith brought the full impact of the knife’s handle down between Stain’s eyes. He paused, then brought the weapon down again for another strike. A moment later, the Hero Killer’s jaw finally went slack and his eyes rolled back, leaving him unconscious. Tenya watched for a moment in amazement as Wraith then swiftly and efficiently began disarming the man, pulling knives from places that Tenya never would have thought to look, including one spot hidden up the murderer’s sleeve. Then he pulled a set of extra-long, industrial zipties from a pocket in his jumpsuit and handed a few to Tenya, gesturing towards the Hero Killer’s legs. 

     “Uh, right,” the boy nodded, crouching down and, with trembling fingers, tightening one strand around the murderer’s ankles, another above his knees, and another right below them. Similarly, Wraith bound the Hero Killer’s wrists, elbows, and thumbs, then he grabbed the man by the collar, straightened up, and dragged him partway over toward Todoroki, Uraraka, and the pro hero, who was finally beginning to shift.

     But something seemed very wrong. 

     “Uraraka! Uraraka, hey!”

     “No,” Tenya gasped, rushing past Wraith and falling to his knees at Todoroki’s side. Uraraka’s face was terribly pale, and a puddle of blood was steadily growing around her. Her breath was shallow and quick, and her entire left side was stained red. “No! Uraraka!”

     “Oh God,” the pro hero gasped, dragging himself upright and stumbling over to them. “I… I-I’ll call a hospital! Do what you can to stop the bleeding in the meantime!”

     Todoroki was in the process of trying to tear a strip of fabric from his new hero costume in order to apply pressure to the wound when Tenya felt a hand on his shoulder. When he flinched and glanced up, Wraith was there. He couldn’t see the vigilante’s face, even with the new crack in his helmet, but his intention was obvious by the pressure on the hero-in-training’s arm. “Can… Can you help her?” Tenya asked anxiously as he shifted to make room. Still Wraith didn’t speak. He simply knelt down at Uraraka’s side and removed his utility belt--black, like the rest of his costume. 

     “Is… that a first aid kit?” the pro hero realized even as he reached for his communicator.

     Wraith made a brief gesture with his hands. Tenya was no expert in Sign Language, but he’d spent enough time with Kouda to recognize the sign that roughly translated to ‘sort of’. Deciding to trust him, he watched as the vigilante fumbled with his black gloves, removing them to reveal calloused hands, although they were quickly hidden again by medical gloves pulled out of a compartment on the ultra-compact medical kit. Tenya watched in wide-eyed amazement as Wraith went to work, swiftly and efficiently pinning back the slashed fabric of Uraraka’s hero costume to see and examine the wound more effectively. He seemed to relax as he did so, so Tenya could only assume that the injury looked more severe than it actually was. After that, all he could do was wait while Wraith cleaned it and, removing a needle and thread from his kit, began to sew up the wound. Through it all, Uraraka hardly stirred, merely twitching every now and then as the needle passed in and out of her flesh and once groaning softly. When he’d finished, Todoroki lightly touched Wraith’s arm and held out a small vial, removed from his belt. 

     “I don’t know what you have available,” he said quietly, “but this is a medicine made by professional support companies. It should help.”

     After a moment, Wraith nodded, accepting the gift. Removing one of his blood-stained gloves and using a clean alcohol wipe to sanitize his hands, he carefully unscrewed the lid and used his clean finger to smear the ointment over the sealed injury. Uraraka twitched in response to his touch, and, finally, her brown eyes flickered open. 

     “Uraraka!” Tenya cried with relief, sensing similar quiet sighs from Todoroki and the pro hero, who had stepped away to stand guard over Stain.

     “T-Tenya-kun?” the girl mumbled, her eyelids still fluttering weakly. “H-How… How long w-was I…?”

     “Just a few minutes,” Todoroki replied, sitting back on his heels. “Just lie still while Wraith finishes bandaging your wound.”

     “H-Huh?” Uraraka managed, blinking blearily towards the black-clad vigilante, then down at her injured side. “Oh… Th-Thank you.”

     Wraith nodded in acknowledgement, meanwhile pulling out a strip of gauze, cutting it to the right size and placing it over the injury, then grabbing medical tape and using it to hold the rough bandage in place. It wasn’t much, but it would do to protect the stitches until the ambulance arrived.

     “Oi, what’s going on over here?!”

     Or the pro heroes. 

     “G-Gran…” Uraraka gasped, trying to straighten up and moaning in pain as she did, slumping back again.

     “Hey, take it easy,” Todoroki reprimanded her quietly, but still helped their classmate straighten up as Wraith gathered his things and stepped out of the way. 

     “What th-?! I thought I told you to stay on the bullet train, you brat!!” an old man dressed in a white and yellow hero costume griped, zipping over with what seemed to be some kind of speed or flight quirk as though he was about to kick the girl in the stomach--only to think better of it when he saw the bandage. “Geez kid, what the hell happened to you?”

     “M’sorry…”

     “It was my fault, sir,” Tenya said quietly, glancing away from the old pro hero’s stern gaze. “I got Uraraka involved.”

     “Not from the bullet train, you didn’t.”

     “Who’s this?” Todoroki frowned.

     “G-Guys, this… this is Gran Torino,” Uraraka smiled weakly. “H-He’s the pro I’m… interning with.”

     “Don't strain yourself, brat. Seriously, what happened?” Gran Torino frowned, his residual anger obviously a mask for his concern as he crouched down in front of her. “You really ain’t lookin’ so good.”

     “That girl… was a true hero.” 

     Tenya’s head snapped up in surprise at the low groan. It seemed that the Hero Killer was regaining consciousness, even if he was trussed up too much to move. “Her… that fire kid… and Wraith… They’re the only heroes… that I will acknowledge here.”

     Gran Torino’s eyes widened. “Well now. If that's who I think it is, then I guess I’d better get the police on the line, shouldn’t I? And who the hell is this Wraith character?”

     “You just missed him.”

     Both Tenya and Gran Torino glanced back towards Todoroki in surprise. “He’s a vigilante that came to our aid. But he left as soon as you arrived.”

     “Huh. Well, I guess that would make sense for a vigilante. Was he the one who patched up my brat, then?”

     “Yeah. I don't know if we could've beaten the Hero Killer without him, honestly,” Todoroki frowned. “Whatever quirk he had, it gave him the ability to both keep the Hero Killer at a distance and defend against his blades up close. Honestly, I kind of had the sense that we were just in his way.”

     “Well, whoever the hell he was, I owe him my thanks,” Gran Torino grunted, reaching out to feel Uraraka’s forehead. “You’re starting to develop a fever now that you’re not bleeding out, kid. Has anyone called an ambulance yet?”

     “Yessir. They’re on their way,” the pro hero that had been watching over Stain nodded. 

     “Good. Then let’s get to where they can find us, eh?”

     As he was the least injured, the pro hero--Native, as he introduced himself--gently lifted Uraraka into a bridal carry, careful not to jostle her wound unduly. Tenya insisted on hauling the Hero Killer himself. Now that the battle was over, it was obvious that the wound to his shoulder was relatively superficial, all things considered. Todoroki’s weren’t nearly as bad as they could be either, but he had bled a lot and he was feeling somewhat lightheaded, so Gran Torino provided a hand of support to him. 

     “Around the corner! Hurry!”

     Tenya looked up with no small amount of surprise as a posse of pro heroes suddenly rounded the bend, grim-faced and determined. 

     “Endeavor told us there was a request for help here-”

     “Join the club.”

     “-but…”

     “Children?”

     “Those injuries look pretty bad. Has anyone called an ambulance?”

     “Yeah, it’s on its way.”

     “Holy-?!”

     “Is that… the Hero Killer?!”

     “I-I’ll get the police on the line!”

     Tenya stood in grim silence as the different pro heroes set about making themselves useful, keeping an eye on the bound and seething Hero Killer, performing first aid on him and Todoroki, and getting statements from the three hero students and Native. 

     “Whoever treated this did a really good job,” one of the heroes murmured, resealing the bandage on Uraraka’s side. The girl smiled weakly, but didn’t say anything. She was leaning heavily on Todoroki, but she had insisted on standing, claiming that the injury hurt less when she was upright. Still, the bandage was slowly being stained crimson. Even though the Hero Killer would be taken into custody and he could hear the siren of the ambulance in the distance, Tenya could feel the guilt roiling in his stomach as he walked towards his classmates.

     “Uraraka, Todoroki,” he choked, then bowed deeply to them both. “I’m truly sorry. You were both hurt because of me, and I… I can’t ever ask your forgiveness, but I… I was just so angry, I couldn’t… I couldn’t see anything else.”

     It should have been predictable really, the way that Uraraka gently touched his arm and the sad little smile that curled her mouth when he straightened up, with tears just like his own filling her eyes. She was a self-admitted sympathetic cryer, after all.

     “I’m sorry too, Tenya-kun. Because I… I let you go through so much on your own. E-Even though… I’m your friend.”

     “Hey, pull yourselves together,” Todoroki grumbled, looking a little uncomfortable over the whole situation. “You’re both on the class student committee.” 

     “Heh. Yeah, I guess we have a reputation to uphold, huh?”

     “Get down!”

     It happened in an instant. One moment his classmate was almost laughing as she wiped away her tears with a gentle sort of relief in her eyes, and the next-

     “Uraraka!!” Tenya screamed in a panic as the monster that had her in its claws began to gain altitude once again. 

     “Oh no!”

     “Kid!” the hero she had been interning with yelled, leaping skyward with his quirk.

     Todoroki didn't cry out, but ice flew from his right side, forming a pillar to allow Gran Torino another platform to launch from. But the winged Nomu that had appeared was too fast. In seconds, it became obvious that Gran Torino wouldn't be able to catch it, and judging by the way a pink light flickered around his friend before it sputtered, Uraraka appeared too tired to use her new Gravity Field to weigh it down.

      It’s taking her away I have to save her there’s nothing I can do-!

     A black shadow flashed through the air. 

     Tenya's eyes widened and his breath caught in his chest as Wraith-- it has to be him; there’s no other explanation --leaped from the closest rooftop with an almost inhuman strength and barreled straight towards the beast and its captive. From this distance and angle, it was hard to see what happened next, especially since Tenya was still missing his glasses, but suddenly the Nomu uttered a harsh, choked screech and faltered, its wings seeming to crumple and Uraraka slipping from its grip, the final feeble flickers of pink light fading around her. Tenya rushed forward, prepared to catch his friend, injured shoulder or no. 

     But Wraith wasn't finished yet.

     With absurd maneuverability, the vigilante seemed to twist and launch in midair, kicking off of the air itself in a way that looked vaguely similar to All Might's New Hampshire Smash. One way or another, it changed his trajectory enough for him to catch Uraraka around the waist, pulling her close to his chest and raising a hand in the direction of the building they were hurtling towards. Their speed was abruptly cut, slowing down their forward motion even as their fall picked up speed. A few meters from the ground, Wraith dropped his hand and their descent rapidly slowed, like one of those high-thrill carnival rides that dropped you from a great height. Just watching it made Tenya a little queasy--he’d never been much of one for heights--but at least it was enough that when they reached the ground, neither had sustained any broken bones. 

     But that didn't mean they had made it out unscathed.

     "Kid!"

     "Uraraka!" 

     With one radiator damaged, Tenya reached his friend just behind Gran Torino, who barely seemed to withhold the impulse to kick Wraith out of the way as he gently lowered Uraraka to the ground. Her helmet was splattered with a dark substance that made it difficult to tell what her facial expression might be, but her eyes were obviously squeezed shut and one of her hands was wrapped around her side, clutching her wound as she panted for breath.

     "Dammit brat, can't you stay out of trouble for ten minutes!?"

     "Is… Is she okay?" Tenya gasped, stumbling to them, only to flinch at the realization that the substance staining her helmet and turning her costume slick and dark was none other than blood. 

      “Ah hell, what'd that thing do to you, kid?!”

     "M… M'o… kay," Uraraka's shaky voice gasped as Wraith carefully drew her hand away from her wounded side to check the injury again.

     "You're covered in blood, kid," the pro hero snapped, an edge of panic in his voice.

     "It's… I-It's not-"

     "What are you all standing around for?! That thing must have come this way, didn't it?!"

     Tenya's head snapped up in surprise at the commanding voice, his eyes immediately drawn towards the massively built figure with flames rolling off of his body.

     "E-Endeavor…" someone gasped, sounding queasy. 

     "Shouto, why the hell did you run off like that?!"

     "Maybe if you actually took a moment to look around, you could answer that for yourself."

     Todoroki's voice sounded abnormally tight, too. Confused, Tenya followed his friend's gaze, hearing Gran Torino's violent curse as he did, and suddenly he understood why one of the younger pro heroes that had come to help them was unloading the contents of his stomach into the gutter. When the smell hit, Tenya found himself joining the man.

     The Nomu had been torn in half by Wraith's telekinesis quirk. It now lay in the middle of a rapidly-expanding lake of blood and viscera nearby, where it had been carried by the momentum of its attempted escape. That meant all of the blood coating Uraraka's costume, which Wraith was carefully cleaning away from her wound and its torn stitches to avoid contamination, had actually been the Nomu's.

     "Well now. I wasn't expecting this, but I won't deny that I'm impressed. Which one of you was it that took the beast down?" Endeavor asked. 

      "You honestly think that any of these fakes could have defeated that creature so easily?" a dark voice cackled.

     "What the hell are you-! Wait, aren't you-?"

     "This society is overgrown with fake heroes like you and petty criminals that idly wave their power around! They should all be purged, and make way for true heroes like him!!" Stain snarled, somehow managing to push himself up to his knees despite his bindings. 

     "What the hell are you talking about?!" Endeavor snarled even as he took a half-step back, intimidated by the waves of bloodlust coming off of the villain. Actually, everyone seemed to be impacted by the force of his resolve. If Tenya hadn't already been on his knees with Ochaco, he might have been inclined to back away, too. The only person that seemed decidedly unaffected by the murderer's tirade was Wraith, who quietly rose to his feet and creeped towards the nearest alley.     

     "Everything I've done is to create a more just society! We will reclaim the word 'hero' and bring about a stronger world!"

     "So you have a partner, do you?" Endeavor growled. "I presume it's whoever took down the monster."

      Wait… 

     "So then, is it that person trying to sneak away over there!?" the number two hero raised a blazing hand, his eyes fixated on a point just a couple meters away.

     Tenya realized what was about to happen at the same moment Gran Torino did. 

     "Wait, Todoroki!" the old pro shouted, snapping to his feet.

     "Hold on-!"

     "Stop-!!"

     The flames flew towards Wraith in a rush, the heat potent enough to send Tenya cringing back, leaning protectively over Uraraka, who had finally passed out from the pain. The speedster heard inarticulate cries of panic or alarm, most of the variety that Endeavor was going too far or that he was going to hurt someone, and he could distinctly hear Todoroki's shout of, "What the hell are you doing, you bastard?!"

     That was when something in the air seemed to shift. 

     "What in the world?!" Gran Torino gaped in amazement, drawing Tenya's eyes back to the fight. 

     Endeavor's Hellfire almost seemed to be fighting itself, the flames that had rushed to consume Wraith somehow seeming to fold in on themselves before they swept back towards their creator. Tenya saw the momentary flash of panic in Endeavor's eyes before his own quirk struck him, surrounding him in a maelstrom of fire while the pro heroes around him yelled incomprehensibly in their panic and the Hero Killer laughed in manic delight.

     “FALSE HEROES SUCH AS YOU WILL ALL BE PURGED!! ONLY THOSE AS WORTHY AS ALL MIGHT SHALL REMAIN!!” he howled.

     An instant later, the flames vanished, revealing Endeavor on hands and knees, gasping for breath, one hand on his throat, and Wraith standing unharmed at the mouth of the closest alley, one hand extended towards the flame-user.

     For a long moment, the world seemed frozen in time.

     Then Wraith spun around and raced into the alleyway, rapidly disappearing from view, and the spell broke.

     "Hey! Hold it right there!" one of the pros yelled, and he and another of them chased after him before the other heroes could call them back.