Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The dawn of Quirks had required many a change in laws.

The most widely known dealt with the establishment of heroes and the laws defining vigilantism and villainy.

However, there were many more, less known laws and loopholes, which would all come together to set the stage for this story – ones which one Quirkless Midoriya Izuku discovered one lazy Sunday before his last year of middle school.

You see, with the rise of Quirks and each subsequent generation, the rate of Quirkless people went steadily down, until only 20 per cent of the worldwide population were without a superpower – and of those, 90 per cent were above the age of fifty.

(that made Midoriya Izuku one very unlucky person – namely one of only an estimated 160,000,000 sub-50 years old worldwide, that is only slightly more than Japan’s pre-Quirk aera population and only about 2 per cent of the pre-Quirk aera population in general)

With this steady drop of Quirkless individuals, laws were amended to simply… ignore their very existence. After all, why keep in mind a breed of human that would die out in just a few decades’ time? There was no need to establish laws about the white tiger or pandas either, after all.

So, what does this mean?

Simply speaking, a hero is someone who received a license to use their Quirk for law enforcement.

A vigilante was someone doing such work without a license.

A villain was someone committing crimes using their Quirks.

See a pattern?

The Quirkless cannot use a Quirk for law enforcement or crimes.

They do not need a license for something they do not have. They cannot be persecuted for using something they do not have.

Now you might wonder, too: what about heroes such as Nezu? Animal with a Quirk that made him more intelligent than most humans? Where does he fit in? How did he pass the licensing exam, anyways?

(the short answer is that the HPSC doesn’t care about rules when it suits them and throws licenses at people when it suits them)

The long answer is as follows: with the rise of many different Quirks came… a few complications. What to do about animals with Quirks? With human-level intelligence? What to do with a human whose Quirk gives them premature intelligence and maturity?

Faced with such things, laws were amended to remove mention of species in regards to Quirks, and age requirements were removed for intelligence-based testing and job requirements, and special programs were enacted for people with extenuating circumstances to still receive a hero license.

All these things were discovered by one 14 years old Midoriya Izuku one lazy Sunday before his last year of middle school. And with some further digging, he discovered something peculiar.

Namely that Tokyo U offered a free online speed course on Hero Analysis, and with a fee-based final exam, one could receive a degree. They also offered the same for teaching licenses for any graduates of any of their degrees. What’s more, unlike high school, universities didn’t require applicants to disclose their Quirk status, and online degrees didn’t require a high school or middle school diploma if one was able to pass a test.

Furthermore, the HPSC offered a special licensing exam to anyone who has worked for a minimum of six months within the hero industry and receives recommendation by at least three active pro heroes.

Making a spur of the moment decision, Midoriya Izuku went up to his mother and asked if she would be willing to pay for the exam fees, fibbing a little and claiming it was just some certificates that would look good on his high school applications to make up for his Quirkless status.

She happily agreed, tears in her eyes.

Sitting down two weeks later to take the entrance test, Midoriya Izuku shrugged.

It couldn’t hurt, right? At least he could say he’d tried to be more realistic.

(the fact that getting a university degree and a teaching license at 14 was less realistic than becoming Batman was lost to teenage logic)

Midoriya Inko was very mad when it turned out that the fees she had paid for were for actual state exams, but it was quickly overshadowed by her now 15 years old son having gotten both a university degree and a teaching license.

(many tears were shed by a proud mama and her son)

Gunning for the special HPSC exam, Midoriya Izuku decided to apply to the Support Course at UA in order to add a support license to his growing pile of certifications, hoping to make up for his lack of a Quirk and finding work right out of high school.

What he didn’t expect was UA’s principal seeing his resume, cackling into his tea and sending out a job offer to him.

(weeks and months later he would ask himself how he’d ever been surprised)

Chapter Text

Midoriya Izuku stared at the letter in his hands, confused. Looking at his mother with a raised eyebrow he waved it around. “Why is there a letter from UA? The entrance exam hasn’t even passed yet.” His green eyes became wide in sudden horror. “Do they exclude Quirkless people after all? Oh my god, I’m going to end up wiping tables at McDonald’s, aren’t I? What am I-“

“Izuku,” Inko’s firm voice cut through the beginnings of his panic attack. “Dear, what did we agree on?”

Her son took a deep breath. “Open and read letters before I have a panic attack over what ifs.”

“Good, now open it, my anxiety is killing me, sweetheart.”

Ten minutes later mother and son were hugging each other and devolving into blubbering messes.

Aizawa Shouta had dealt with many things in his life, and given that his old homeroom teacher and now boss was Nezu, of all people, he really didn’t let a lot of things faze him anymore. When you have to deal with the smartest person on earth on a near daily basis, you had to grow numb to certain things, such as him popping out of nowhere, ominous cackling echoing through the corridors and his tendency to cause chaos for his own amusement, like some abominable Eldritch deity of calamity and pandemonium.

So, really, he shouldn’t have been as shocked as he was when he was told to pick up a prospective new teacher from the gates to lead them to their job interview. Really, it wasn’t unusual for Nezu to handpick teachers for UA.

He was, however, very much shocked when it turned out to be a 15 years old baby-faced kid stuttering his way through a greeting.

For all that is holy and sacred in the world, why me?

With a sigh and a gruff noise that might or might not have been a greeting, Aizawa turned on his heel and motioned the kid to follow him.

He should ask for a raise.

Despite himself, Aizawa had stuck around for the interview, because try as he might, he was curious.

Sue him.

He also couldn’t help himself as he interrupted in the middle of it.

“So, kid, let me get this straight. You are Quirkless.”

“Y-yes?”

“You passed an online entrance exam for Tokyo U when you were 14.”

“Yes?”

“You passed summa cum laude in their Hero Analysis degree?”

“I guess?”

“You then got your teaching license in half the time required by the course?”

“I was bored.”

“You then decided that, apparently, you had to make up for your Quirklessness even more by getting a support license?”

“Well, yeah?”

“All of this just to eventually qualify for the special HPSC hero licensing exam, even though as a Quirkless person, you don’t even technically need one?”

“I need one to get paid by the governme-“

“You did all that,” Aizawa interrupted the kid, who he was beginning to suspect had been cloned from Nezu’s DNA. “Instead of taking a few martial arts classes and going to a hero school with a less biased entrance exam?”

The kid, Midoriya, if he remembered, blinked owlishly at him. “Well, when you put it like that…”

Aizawa heard Nezu’s silent cackling as he facepalmed.

“What even is my life?” Glaring at the teenager, he jabbed his index finger in his direction. “Ok, first off, congrats on the job I guess, because knowing Nezu – which I do – he likely just wanted this interview to fuck with the two of us and decided to give you the position when he saw your application.”

Nezu sipped his tea with a smirk. “You’re not wrong.”

An amused huff escaped him and Aizawa rolled his eyes. “Of course I’m not, I’ve known you for half my life.” Turning back to Midoriya, who looked more and more overwhelmed the longer the conversation went on, he continued. “Second off, if you’re going to be teaching the fucking gremlins we get every year, we’ll have to prepare you. None of this cowering when someone looks at you weird, no stuttering. They might be your age and have Quirks, but in the classroom, you’ll be their boss, and if you want them to actually learn anything you gotta prove to them that you aren’t a pushover. I’m going to make sure you can put the fear of god in them before the school year starts.”

“O-ok?”

“Third off, you’ll still be expected to attend the support course classes, if you still want to get the license. I’m sure our colleagues will be more than happy to work around your schedule. And lastly, I’ll make damn sure you pass that licensing exam, so prepare to hate every second of your life from now on.” Aizawa crossed his arms over his chest. “Any objections?”

Even if the kid had any, by the looks of it he was too busy feeling his soul leave his body to voice them.

Not his problem.

Chapter Text

Bakugou Katsuki is confused.

Fort he past ten years his life has gone in predictable ways, and people have acted the way they were supposed to. His mother was loud where his father was quiet, but they care about him all the same and he knows they know that he loves them no matter how annoying they are. His teachers leave him alone; they know he is only here because he has to be and that he won’t spare a thought to them once he’s at UA. The extras that follow him around know that their five minutes atop the food chain of this derelict middle school end at graduation and that they will disappear back into obscurity right after. The rest of the pebbles have learned their place and leave him well alone. People around him know their place and know how to act around him.

All except for Midoriya Izuku.

It is said that animals know an apex predator when they see it and instinctually cover from it in fear, and there was no question that Katsuki was the apex predator of Aldera Middle School.

Why, then, did the smallest of the small fry not know his place?

No, that’s the wrong question. Katsuki frowns as he bites the back of his pencil during study hall, casting a glance at the Quirkless loser in the back of the classroom out of the corner of his eyes.

Earlier that day their teacher had looked over their high school applications, and Deku’s had been blank. He knows because the teacher had remarked on it, and Deku had replied that he had applied to the Support Course of UA and already been accepted. It had sent the classroom into stunned silence and Katsuki reeling.

When had that Deku decided to stop trying to be a hero?

How had he been accepted before the entrance exam even took place, before they even sat through their mid terms?

And when, exactly, had Deku stopped sinking into himself when called upon, trying to make himself look smaller, stopped stuttering and began meeting their teacher’s gaze head on without flinching?

Normally, Katsuki told himself, it wouldn’t matter. Normally, he should be glad the loser finally learned his lesson.

But there was something about it all that nagged at Katsuki, and it startled him when he finally realized what it was, his red eyes widening.

In ten years of everyone telling Deku that he would never be a hero, not once had he ever wavered in his conviction, no matter how ludicrous the mere idea.

So, what, exactly, had changed?

Katsuki grit his teeth, angry, knowing his curiosity was piqued and only one person could sate it.

The lunch bell rings the end of study hall, and Izuku doesn’t even pause in working on the drafts for the first semester of lesson plans. Nezu and Aizawa want to look over them by tomorrow, and he still has about two months worth of lessons to plan. It is surprisingly fun in a way that getting the teaching license hadn’t been. That had been a formality more so than anything else, but as he combines the lessons on lecture structure and different educational tools with his favorite hobby he finds it easy and fun. Smiling to himself as he finishes a lesson on the different types of mutant Quirks and their differences, he hopes that he’ll be able to show his future students why he enjoys this topic so much, and maybe make them enjoy it, too.

I’ll have to amend some of the lessons to include the students’ Quirks as real life examples once the semester starts, Izuku thinks, making respective notes next to the different classification types in the plan.

Izuku notices Katsuki coming quicker than he would have weeks ago, before Aizawa took it upon himself to prepare him not just for life as a teacher of overconfident heroes-to-be but for life as a future hero himself, running him ragged in a pitch-black gym to teach him situational awareness via trial by fire like he’s some grand old sensei for a shounen protagonist. It’s these precious extra moments that let him collect his carefully crafted plans and outlines in a pile to protect them from any nitroglycerine-fueled destruction and look up at his former friend, green eyes unwavering as they lock with red.

He can see the shock and confusion in Katsuki’s eyes, and for the first time in their lives it’s Katsuki who stops dead in his tracks looking at him. Because Midoriya Izuku is not supposed to look at Bakugou Katsuki in the eye, is supposed to flinch and cower and shake in his boots.

It amazes Izuku, how much barely two months with Aizawa and Nezu have changed him, and he wonders what kind of person he’ll be come April.

The classroom is empty now except for them, and idly Izuku wonders when they were alone like this last.

“I don’t get you, Deku,” are the first words out of his bully’s mouth and they are said without heat, without malice, without venom. They are plain and monotone with an edge of incomprehension. “Ten years. The world has been telling you for ten fucking years and you never gave up. What changed?”

And Izuku understands now, or is beginning to, he thinks.

“Nothing’s changed, Kacchan,” and the words ring true and false at the same time. True because he still wants to become a hero, but false because so much has changed and nothing really is the same anymore. “I’ve just realized that there are things I have to accomplish first.”

He can see that his words make no sense to Katsuki, but he realizes that he doesn’t care, stopped caring when he decided to take the long way to his goals and found adults willing to help him despite the odds. For a moment he hates his past self for caring too much, too deeply, for the opinion of a boy who views him as nothing but dirt, an evolutionary holdover from times long past with no place in this world.

“Tch, whatever, nerd,” Katsuki mutters, hands in his pockets. “Just stay out of my way.”

Izuku waits until Katsuki has turned around before he lets a small smirk quirk the corners of his lips, spreading his lesson plans back out across his desk.

He hopes Katsuki makes it into the hero course.

He thinks he’ll quite enjoy getting in his way, for once.

Chapter Text

Yagi Toshinori looks up from his laptop as the door of the teachers’ lounge opens. He’s the only one there besides Aizawa napping in a corner and Kayama at the kitchenette making coffee. He blinks as he sees a small teenager in casual clothes come in, an enormous yellow backpack on his shoulders. “Uh…”

“Oh, hi sweetie! Do you drink coffee or do you want some tea instead?” Kayama doesn’t seem fazed by the literal teenager casually walking over to the desk labeled “Midoriya – Quirk Analysis”, putting his loud bag beside it and beaming at the R-rated hero like the sun turned human.

“Coffee, please, Kayama-san! I was a bit too excited to sleep last night,” he giggles the last part, and Kayama smiles as she fills a cup for him as well, walking over with none of her usual saunter and posing.

“Oh yeah, I remember how nervous I was on my first day, I almost puked all over the classroom!”

The child chuckles as he takes the steaming mug from her. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad!”

“Oh, it was, problem child,” Aizawa grunts from his sleeping bag, nodding at his friend as she hands him a mug as well. “She had a panic attack after her first homeroom class.”

“We don’t talk about that, Aizawa!”

“Then why did you bring it up?”

“Uh…” Toshinori repeats, and the three seem to finally remember his existence. “Who are you, if I may ask?”

“Oh!” The teenager puts his mug down and gives him a shallow bow. “I’m Midoriya Izuku, the Quirk Analysis teacher! Oh, and first year Support Course student, but only during the afternoons!” He looks at him quizzically. “And you are?”

Toshinori coughs into his handkerchief. “W-what? You’re a teacher?”

“Uhhuh! I got my teaching license from Tokyo U about six months ago!”

Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker, was this school always so crazy? Toshinori doesn’t remember it being this crazy.

“U-uh, well, I’m All Might – I don’t blame you for not recognizing me-,”

“Oh, right, Nezu said something about that!” Toshinori can’t remember the last time he was interrupted. Suddenly the kid is right in his face, eyes gleaming like stars. “Is this skinny form a side effect of your Quirk or your injury? Aizawa said you don’t have a teaching license, but why not? It’s so easy to get! I only took like half the time they allotted, the exam was a joke if you ask me – I sent them ideas to improve it so not every random middle schooler can get it like I did. Can I look over your foundational hero studies lesson plans? I’m curious what someone without a teaching license deems important! Oh, and can I get an autograph? You’re my favorite hero!”

Toshinori blinks, stupefied, and only then realizes the kid hadn’t taken a single breath during his monologue. What was this kid’s Quirk, Steel Lungs? “Uh… of course, I’d be happy to give you an autograph.” Quite frankly, he had already forgotten all his other questions. “Uh, could you repeat your other questions?”

Behind him, Aizawa snickered into his coffee.

The classroom was noisy even through the closed door, and Izuku steeled himself.

He could do this.

He had a university degree and a teaching license. He could last ten minutes against Aizawa in a dark room.

He could teach Hero Course students his age.

Easy peasy.

Taking one last deep breath he told himself that he could always give them detention. Right, yes, he had all the power in the classroom, not the superpowered students.

He could do this.

The bell rings and the door slides open with it.

In doesn’t step a hero, or even a normal teacher.

In steps fucking Deku.

The fucking nerd is in casual clothes and smiles his stupid smile like he always does, and then-

He steps behind the fucking teacher desk, putting down some folders and his phone.

“Uuh, so… hi!” The nerd says, voice only trembling slightly. “I’m Midoriya Izuku and I’m going to be teaching you Quirk Analysis!”

Katsuki can’t help himself.

“What the fuck, Deku?”

“Bakugou!” Four-Eyes shouts from across the room before the fucking nerd can say anything. “That is no way to address our teacher!”

“Well, Iida,” Shitty Hair pipes up. “I mean, does he look like a teacher to you? No offense, bro.”

The shitty nerd smiles like the fucker he is. “It is quite alright uh… Kirishima, Iida,” he says after a quick glance at what must be the seating chart. “Bakugou and I went to school together, and I realize I’m… pretty young to be a teacher, but I assure you that I have all the necessary qualifications to be teaching this subject to you.”

“That’s so manly, bro!” Shitty Hair gushes. “Do you have like an intelligence Quirk or something? I can’t imagine getting a degree right now!”

Useless Deku stills slightly, and Katsuki smirks. Ah, he had been waiting for this.

“Actually, Kirishima, I’m Quirkless.”

There’s silence, and Katsuki is waiting with baited breath for the extras to realize what a fucking joke this whole thing is. Sure, the nerd was smart, but no way was he actually a certified teacher.

“Wow,” the recommended bitch says after a moment. “That’s so impressive!”

Wait, what?

“Man, I feel even dumber than usual now,” Dunce Face groans into his hands.

Deku blinks a few times, clearly having expected this reaction even less than he did. “Well, that’s… that’s really nice of all of you, but really, Quirks have always fascinated me, so the degree was a lot more fun than work, if I’m honest! I hope I manage to show you why I find the topic so fascinating!”

And to Katsuki’s horror and Deku’s very obvious surprise, the whole class of shitty extras actually straighten in their seats – even the fucking Eyebags behind him, who seemed half asleep until now – at attention.

What the everloving fuck.

Chapter Text

“What the motherfuck, Deku?!” Katsuki’s hand goes for the nerd’s shirt but only meets air as the loser has the nerve to dodge, raising an eyebrow at him as if he was better than him. Fucker.

“I’m your teacher, this isn’t fucking middle school anymore, Katsuki.” The nerd has the nerve to sound exasperated. “Grow up.”

Katsuki sees red, explosions popping off his hands as he stalks towards Deku, only for the shuddering emptiness of Erasure to wash over him. He looks to the side, his stupid homeroom teacher glowerin at him. “That is enough. Leave your teacher alone or you will face worse than detention.”

“It’s okay, Aizawa,” the nerd says, patting the hero’s arm as if they were anywhere close to the same level. And his teacher let him, what the fuck. “I need to get to the labs anyways.”

“Fine, problem child,” Aizawa grumbles, blinking and releasing his Quirk. “That’s your last warning, Bakugou.”

What.

The.

Fuck .

The moment Higari enters the labs he wants to go home, down an entire bottle of vodka and sit in the shower crying.

“Oh, what does this do, Overachiever-kun?”

His new colleague and probable migraine-inducing part-time student looks at one of the centrifuges quizzically, then shrugs, smiling at the pink-haired girl next to him. “Only one way to find out!”

There is a deafening explosion, and when the smoke clears the entire room is covered in pink glitter, somehow.

“That was,” Midoriya begins, and gets interrupted by… her name had been Hatsume, if he remembered the roster correctly.

“Awesome!” She cheers, and Higari can feel his hair gray by the second. “Oh, what’s this?!”

The two gremlins - for they cannot be human - look at the pressure cooker.

“NO!”

There is another booming explosion, and the sprinklers start.

The pink glitter doesn’t budge.

Lord have mercy.

In his office, Nezu cackles so hard he falls off of his chair.

Neito had heard that one of the students in 1A had attacked the Quirk Analysis teacher the day before, and he wondered what kind of teacher would aggravate a teenager enough to do that.

Though, maybe 1A was just like that .

The classroom door opens and in steps a greenhaired teenager with a shirt that… reads pants.

Ok then.

“I’m Midoriya Izuku and will be teaching you Quirk Analysis!”

Neito raises his hand before he can think to chicken out. “Is it true that a student from 1A attacked you yesterday, sensei?”

Their new teacher blinks and sighs with the weariness of someone much older than his sum total of years lived. “Yeah, he’s just like that. Just… ignore him.” He scratches his neck awkwardly. “We went to middle school together and he’s never liked me much. I expected worse, to be honest.”

Huh.

Neito thinks he’ll like this teacher.

Izuku bites into his granola bar as he goes over 1A’s homework, the scratching of his pencil loud in the otherwise empty teachers’ lounge. He moves for his mug, his pencil rolling off of the desk and underneath it, and he sighs as he gets off of his chair to get it.

Of course it’d roll all the way to the back.

His fingers have barely closed around the pencil when the scent of ozone begins to permeate the room, the hairs on his arms standing on end. The sound of dress shoes is loud in Izuku’s ears, then there is the rustling of paper and a distorted hum.

Izuku waits until the room is silent again and the scent of ozone gone before he slowly emerges from his impromptu hiding spot, seeing the files on Aizawa’s and Kan’s desks messed with. He steps over, eyes scanning the papers.

Hm, the plans for the USJ training.

He shrugs, leaving the room to go to Nezu’s office.

Tomura scratches his neck impatiently. How much longer was his revolving door gonna wait for them to make their grand entrance? Fucking useless NPC.

“Finally,” he grumbles, stepping through the foul-smelling portal, grinning at the prospect of finally killing that fucker All Might and maybe some stupid hero brats while they’re here.

But there are no brats, and no All Might.

There are, however, a lot of very prepared pro heroes.

Fucking cheaters.

Chapter Text

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Homeroom Class 1A

Problem Child

I have been requested at Tartarus to deal with the villains from the other day. You’re the only one I trust to keep the ferals in line.

Don’t fuck it up.

1a-pre-sports-festival.pdf

-

Izuku sighs.

He had barely sat down for breakfast when his phone had alerted him of Aizawa’s mail, and he had had to rush through his meal rather than take his time and go over some of Hatsume-san’s blueprints for their group project.

And so much for morning tea with Nezu, too.

Oh well, he thinks, making his way to class, gaze fixed on his colleague’s notes. Judging from the (very short) notes it’s just as well that he takes this one.

The conversations inside the classroom stop when he opens the door and it's obvious they had been expecting their homeroom teacher with a glare that could kill rather than their Quirk Analysis teacher who wears silly t-shirts and makes Todoroki hold his hand over a lit lighter to see if his left side is immune to fire in general. 

(It is)

“Morning,” he greets them, ignoring Katsuki’s usual death glare as the other students relax. “I’m taking over your homeroom today because Aizawa is otherwise occupied.”

Iida, like clockwork, raises his hand. “Midoriya-sensei, is everything alright?”

He beams and claps his hands together. “Yep, nothing to worry about! Just normal hero business.

“So, according to his mail, I’m supposed to coach you on the upcoming Sports Festival, which I’m probably better suited for anyways. Knowing him he’d just leave it at the announcement and then nap in his sleeping bag. General questions I can answer in class, but if you need any personal advice on your Quirks I’m more than happy to step outside with you to discuss your queries!”

When no questions come at first, he ends up sitting down on the podium. “So,” he starts, meeting Katsuki’s eyes. “Tradition for first years to have the highest scorer of the entrance exam do the commencement speech, which would be you.” At the rolled eyes and snort he narrows his eyes. “I’d say I trust you to take it seriously, but you wouldn’t listen anyways.”

“Damn right I won’t listen to what a worthless loser like you has to say!”

Izuku sighs. “Calm down and behave, or I’ll have to give you detention. This isn’t middle school.” He turns back to the class, most of which look uncomfortable with Katsuki’s outburst. “As hero students the use of support items is highly regulated to even the playing field with the rest of the year, so if any of you need them for safe Quirk usage,” he gives Aoyama a meaningful look. “You will have to fill out an application for their use. I have the forms with me and can help you fill them out.”

Immediately several students come forward; Aoyama for his belt, Shinsou for his capture weapon, Ashido and Todoroki for their costumes’ shoes. While he helped them fill out the forms he kept answering the occasional organizational question.

“Uh, sensei?” He looks up at Yaoyorozu. “I’m not sure how to handle the vs rounds…”

“Yeah,” Sero pipes up, head propped up with his hand. “Like, even if we are facing someone from our class, some of the matchups would just be unfair.”

Izuku hums, tapping his pen against his chin. “Well, that’s just like real life, isn’t it? Once you’re pros, not every fight you face will be a good matchup for you. Take Aizawa, for example. If he faces a mutant Quirk, he can’t use his Quirk either, he’d be no different from me in that case. Or Kaminari, someone who is immune to electricity renders him useless, too.” He shrugs, smiling at the class. “Just try to do your best. Sometimes the world deals you a bad hand, but as long as you show up and try, no one can say you failed. This is only your first year, you have two more festivals to show your merit to the world and improve on your weaknesses!”

That seems to relax some of the class, though a few were still anxious. He sighs. “Are there any specific matchups you’re concerned about?”

“Todoroki,” almost everyone answers at once, and the usually stoic student fidgets where he sits by the podium, filling out his application. “Like, he’s got two Quirks, that’s just unfair!”

Todoroki frowns, looking back down at his half filled out form. “I don’t use my fire in fights,” he mutters.

“That’s not really fair towards your classmates, is it?” Izuku says, watching his student closely. “They’re giving it their all, and so should you.”

The grip on his pencil tightens. “I don’t use it in fights,” he reiterates, and with a huff, he finishes his form and shoves it towards his teacher. “May I be excused, Sensei?”

Izuku hesitates, then gets up from his chair. “Let’s take this outside, Todoroki-kun.”

The other teen looks like he’d rather do anything else, but nods anyway and follows his teacher outside the classroom.

-

Inside the classroom the students exchange glances, unsure what to do after the exchange and in the absence of their teacher. Eventually, Bakugou scoffs. “I can’t believe you extras listen to that worthless Deku.”

“What’s your problem?” Uraraka exclaims, some of the others nodding along. “He’s a good teacher and nice and cares about all of us doing well. Just because he’s more successful than you right now doesn’t mean you have to be a jealous child!”

“Haaaa?” Small explosions pop off of his palms as he half-raises from his seat. “More successful? That Quirkless loser? Are you stupid?”

“Well,” Jirou drawls, fiddling with one of her earphone jacks lazily. “He went to middle school with you, but already has a university degree and teaches you. I'd say that counts as more successful than you, doesn’t it?”

“Why you-,”

“Plus,” Iida pipes up. “I heard he’s also going through the Support Course track, all while teaching. That’s very impressive, especially without an intelligence-enhancing Quirk, much less no Quirk at all.”

“Yeah,” Kirishima agrees. “He’s super manly!”

“He’s training with Aizawa-sensei after school,” Shinsou says from where he’s trying to figure out an answer on his form. “I asked him about it once, and he says he intends to take the special HPSC hero exams for those who didn’t go through hero school,” he sends Bakugou a sidelong glance. “He wants to be a hero, which is really impressive, I think.”

“As if that Quirkless nobody will ever make it as a hero!” Bakugou shouts, larger explosions coming from his palms.

The classroom door opens a smidge, and their teacher in question sticks his head in. “One week of detention, Katsuki, for unsanctioned Quirk use in the classroom. Calm the fuck down.” He closes the door as he goes back to focus on his conversation with Todoroki, and the class is quiet for a moment.

“Why are you so hung up on him being Quirkless?” Hagakure asks, sounding like she was frowning. “There are lots of support items, and he’s working on making his own! Like, lots of great heroes have Quirks that aren’t super suited to hero work, and they still do it. And he’s so smart, I bet he can do it too.”

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffs, slumping back down in his seat and crossing his arms. “What do you extras know, huh?”

“Enough not to get detention,” Ojirou mutters, rolling his eyes.

-

Eventually, Izuku and Todoroki come back inside, neither looking very happy, and while Izuku still answers any questions for the rest of the lesson, he is quite focused on his laptop and muttering up a storm as he scribbles in a notebook.

-

(a few months later, number two hero Endeavor is disgraced and stripped off his hero license)

(when Todoroki asks his teacher about it, he plays dumb for exactly one minute before he admits to being behind it and apologizes profusely, and is promptly invited over to dinner in thanks)

-

During lunch Izuku is still deeply invested in his research regarding a certain bad father, when someone clears their throat behind him. He looks up to see All Might in his skinny form awkwardly shuffle where he stands, and he smiles. “Yes?”

His favorite hero holds up two bentos. “Would you have lunch with me, young Midoriya?”

“Sure!”

They sit down in one of the conference rooms, and Izuku smiles at the well-made bento. “Thanks for the food,” he mumbles, taking a bite of sausage. “So, he says when he’s swallowed. “What did you want to talk about?”

All Might chuckles awkwardly. “That obvious?”

“Well,” Izuku hedges with a smile, fiddling with his chopsticks. “If it was just a friendly lunch between colleagues you wouldn’t have brought me to a private room.”

“You got me there,” the hero laughs. “I heard you plan to become a hero eventually.”

Izuku hums as he chews on a carrot thoughtfully. “What about it?” There is the slightest challenge in his tone, one All Might doesn’t miss.

“I’d like to make you an offer.”

The young teacher listens intently as his childhood hero explains his Quirk, and its purpose, occasionally butting in with questions to clarify. When he’s finished Izuku mulls it over, staring out of the window as he taps his chopsticks against the edge of his bento. Eventually he meets All Might’s eyes again. “I’ll make you a counter offer,” he smiles. “If I manage to get my license while Quirkless, and if the offer still stands by then, I’ll accept. If you find someone better suited for it in the meantime, I’ll be more than happy to help you train them.”

All Might smiles. “That sounds like a good plan, young Midoriya. Thank you.”

Izuku shakes his head. “No, All Might, thank you.”

-

Chizome stares at the one way mirror in the interrogation room grimly, fidgeting in his restraints. To think that fake had been bait, and lured him into an ambush instead of the other way around.

“Ah, hello, nice to meet you, Akaguro-san,” a young voice, too young for an officer, pipes up from the single door in the room, and Chizome turns, pausing at the sight of a teenager. “Or, I guess… would you prefer Stain?”

Chizome eyes him up and down. “Akaguro is fine,” he’d never really cared much, but if his real identity was out of the bag, they might as well use his name. “Who are you?”

“Oh, right!” The kid looks flustered as he puts a folder on the table and takes a seat across from him. “My name is Midoriya Izuku. I’m the Quirk Analysis teacher at UA and was the one who figured out your Quirk and modus operandi and set the trap to capture you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re, what, 12?”

“15,” the kid pouts, not helping his case. “And I am here to make you an offer.”

Chizome narrows his eyes. “No.”

“You don’t even know what it is,” the kid chastises like he was the adult and Chizome the kid. “It would be a favor for All Might, actually.”

That piqued his interest. “What is it?”

“Knew that’d get your attention,” Midoriya chuckles, opening the folder and sliding over a very old-looking photograph. “This man is known as All For One, though we don’t know if he still looks like this.”

“I heard of him,” he grumbles, squinting at the picture. “Everyone in the underworld has.”

Midoriya nods. “He almost killed All Might a few years back, and he’s been in hiding since. We want to capture him, and your Quirk would be very helpful.” He pauses. “You’d be working with Eraserhead and Ingenium. If you cooperate, you will receive a lighter sentence and not be put in Tartarus. You know what that means, right?”

Yes, Chizome knows. Tartarus meant being stripped of your rights, locked away for life with no chance of parole or ever seeing the outside world again. Normal prison meant he had the chance of getting out again, of continuing his work.

The choice was easy enough.

“I accept.”

-

All For One’s end is anticlimactic. Rendered Quirkless by the man he couldn’t capture fifteen years before, and paralyzed by the villain who idolizes his nemesis.

It was anticlimactic, and no casualties were recorded.

Izuku thinks that’s quite alright with him.

Chapter Text

10 years later

-

Izuku glances at his watch and sighs, closing his laptop. “Well, I’m sorry, but I’ll have to leave early today.”

Class 1A doesn’t know whether they should be excited for an early weekend or disappointed that one of their favorite teachers leaves half an hour early. “Why though?”

“None of your business,” he smirks as he packs up. “Just enjoy your weekend and don’t forget your homework.” He’s already pulling off his hero costume’s gloves as he walks towards the door, ignoring the scattered cries of outrage at his deflection.

He had important people to meet, after all.

-

The building he enters is not one you’d expect a hero to enter for fun. The outside looks dilapidated, and the area is rife with small time crime. Rumors in the underworld have it that it once belonged to the boogeyman, others again say that it is run by a former villain. Others again claim that it used to be the headquarters of the League of Villains, though most won’t even be able to tell you who belonged to it.

The thing is, all of these things are true.

“Ah, hi there, Mido, the usual? Most of the others are already in the back,” the pale man with purple smoke for hair greets him as he enters, and Izuku waves at him.

“Yes, thanks, Shirakumo-san, that’d be great.”

“How many times have I told you to call me Oboro?”

“Forget it,” a raspy voice grunts from the corner. “He ain’t even calling me by my first name, and he was my Quirk Counselor.”

Izuku rolls his eyes at the man playing Mario Kart on his Switch. “It’s polite!”

“Sure,” the man snorts, waving him off as Izuku grabs his drink and goes to the back room, immediately greeted by loud cheers from the already slightly tipsy group of heroes.

“Midobro!” Kirishima cheers in the middle of his song, before he goes back to singing Living La Vida Loca with Kaminari.

Izuku waves as he slides into his seat besides Todoroki, looking at his hand. “How much have you lost yet?”

“Don’t ask,” the other man snorts, throwing down his cards and giving up. “We’ll deal you in for me next round. You gotta avenge my honor.”

“What honor,” Bakugou snorts, rolling his eyes as he calls and collects his winnings. “Your honor died when you became a nerd simp.”

“My ranking says different, Mr 43.”

“Fuck off, Icythot, I’ll beat your ass next season.” He points at Izuku calmly sorting his cards. “And you, nerd, when will I finally get my new fucking gauntlets?”

From the next table over Monoma cackles. “Maybe if you didn’t blow them up last week, you wouldn’t be waiting for their replacements now!” That earns him a round of laughter from most of the room and he grumbles into his drink. Hatsume wooshes into the room next, mumbling apologies for being late, but one of her students blew up the lab and she had to clean up.

“How does it feel to be on the receiving end of that?” Jirou snickers, pushing out the chair beside her with her foot. “Bet you regret all the times you gave Powerloader hell.”

“No way,” she cackles, sitting down in a plume of construction dust. “Blowing up the lab with Mido are some of my best memories of highschool!”

“Remember the rainbow glitter bombs?”

“Remember? Aoyama still orders them for his costume.”

“They are très magnifique!”

“That they are,” she agrees with a smirk. “Now, who’s next for karaoke? I have the need to sing Barbie Girl .”

“Oh Jesus, no,” Shinsou groans, making a few of them jump, having forgotten he was even there. “Anything but that, please.”

“You get to sing some Linkin Park after, just please let me annoy you first.”

“Ugh, fine.”

-

As the night drags on, more and more of their group leave because of early shifts, and some because they came straight to the gathering from work and needed to sleep.

Eventually, Izuku too gets up to leave when he notices Todoroki blinking sleepily, dragging the other man out along with him and waving everyone goodbye. “Come on, you stubborn ass,” he chuckles, while the other leans on him heavily, grumbling about being tired and can’t Izuku please just carry him? Pretty please? “You’re a head taller than me, I’m not carrying you all the way home.”

“You lift the sofa for warmups,” Todoroki complains. “I’m not that heavy compared to that.”

“Oh fine, you big baby.”

Todoroki cheers sleepily as Izuku lifts him onto his back. “Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Did you ever think this was gonna be our lives?”

“Carrying my former student around because he’s a brat? No, can’t say I did.”

“Haha,” he pokes the back of his head petulantly. “I meant that we’d all be friends.”

Izuku hums. “To be honest, I never thought I’d be a hero . I was trying, but part of me didn’t believe I’d manage.”

“Really?” Todoroki snorts. “Your self-esteem is worse than my sense of self-worth.” The arms around Izuku’s shoulders tighten. “You were my hero, you know? You didn’t even know me, but you did everything to make sure I’d be okay.”

“You were my student!”

“Did your teachers ever cancel your abuser and ruin their career?”

Izuku opens his mouth to retort, but ends up just sighing. “Fine, you win.”

“That’s right, Mr 28, listen to number 15.”

“Oh for the love of god.”

Todoroki’s chuckles didn’t stop until they reached the train station.