Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

God is not God.

That is to say, the God that the world knows is not the God of religions, the perfect, omniscient, benevolent being that would allow imperfect beings to intrude upon his heavenly home. That God may or may not exist; no one really knows for sure.

The God that the world knows is a god, lowercase g. Not perfect, not omnipotent, and not always benevolent. The only reason you’d call it with a capital G is because its name is quite literally God, and it would be rude to capitalize names such as Jack and Jill, but not God.

No one knows much about that God either, just slightly more than the perfect God. When it finds a willing vessel it asks if that vessel is willing to carry out its orders, in exchange for strength. If the vessel agrees, then they are given the devil’s deal: unimaginable powers in exchange for following the word of a strange being, and to never breathe a word about who it truly is.

If that deal is broken, God will not hesitate to bring down judgement upon such failures. And nothing is quite as terrifying as seeing a being who can give such unimaginable power, try to kill you.

Of the few things that can even compare to that terror are the S Class.

In the early days of the Hero Association, there were only three Classes: A, B and C. If you didn’t fight to maintain your rank, you could slip from the top of A to the bottom of C in a matter of seconds. So it was particularly difficult to find talent within the system.

Then the Hero Association realized that there were outliers: there were monsters too strong for even the A Class to handle, and the heroes that fodderized these monsters. Clearly, these heroes were head and shoulders above the rest of the pack, yet their ranks were in the low C’s and B’s at best.

So the Hero Association decided to take these outliers, and make a completely new Class.

At first, those who fought for dominance in the A Class were furious. How dare these upstarts rise above them in rank when they had put in no work whatsoever? There were continuous complaints and even a strike at one point.

Then they saw the S Class in action, and their voices died down almost immediately.

For all that they are, heroes are mere humans. Extremely powerful humans, the weakest of whom hits harder than a rifle, but humans nonetheless. How are mortal men expected to face down behemoths that tower over the largest skyscrapers and smash through steel and concrete with a swipe of their fingers?

And how are mortal men expected to compare to the people that can stroll up to and end these behemoths as casually as they would tell a joke or get up from bed?

Suddenly, all the fighting for ranks seemed insane and petty, and the organization system settled down. Even if the hero Sweet Mask had never begun gatekeeping the entrance to the S Class, it is doubtful anyone would have taken the opportunity to advance voluntarily.

Because everyone knows the S Class are insane.

So, it’s no surprise that even their enemies would run from them, terrified. Even the monsters that have lost their mind to bloodlust and know nothing but to kill.

Just half an hour earlier, the S Class had infiltrated the Monster Association. The monsters met them with glee, with the promise that they would be able to make a name for themselves if they took down an A, or even S Class.

Those monsters were no laughing matters; a single Tiger level threat is able to slaughter multiple people at once, and at the time there were thousands and thousands of Tigers, ready to kill. A horde of monsters, each individually strong enough to rip through an entire apartment complex without a second thought, screaming for blood as they charged a group of merely twenty or thirty Heroes. How could just a few men and women beat creatures that had sacrificed their humanity for power?

As it turns out, quite easily.

The S Class didn’t even interfere with the battles until the Rhino Wrestler appeared, and began to toss aside A and B Class heroes like ragdolls. The only one able to even consider standing up to this beast was Iaian, disciple of Atomic Samurai, the number two A Class hero, and even then he was barely in a stalemate.

Merely the fact that he was able to exchange blows with a monster that can destroy entire cities is impressive enough, never mind how he was able to hold his own.

But the S Class didn’t interfere because their juniors were doing terribly. They interfered because it was taking too much time.

A single slash each from Atomic Samurai and Flashy Flash was enough to halve the horde.

A single thought from the Tornado of Terror and half the survivors were crushed into boxes of flesh and bone.

Superalloy Darkshine merely ran forward, and yet whenever a monster even so much as touched him, it died instantly.

Even the one that looked the weakest of the bunch, the ten year old Child Emperor, didn’t even have to look up from his computer as mechanical arms whipped themselves off his backpack and tore his attackers to shreds.

The S Class are insane.

Is it any wonder that, when the S Class entered the base itself, there were monsters that ran for their lives?

One such monster finds itself sweating as it hides in a room, hearing the sounds of its comrades being cut down nearby. At another time, it would have admired the contents of the storeroom it sat in; immeasurable riches were arrayed across the floor, a scene right out of a fairytale.

As it takes a step back out of fear, it feels its foot bump into something, and it looks down to see a small black cube, just large enough to fit in a human hand.

Hello there. Do you have a wish?

The monster blinks, stares back down at the cube, then thinks about the words that just ran through its head.

“I wish… I wish… I wish I was safe and there wasn’t any trouble at all. I wish you’d send the heroes and the stronger monsters away… ”

... Will that be all?

The voice is quiet, disapproving, but the monster doesn’t care. It nods its head quickly, not caring that the room is pitch black, and squeaks out a response. “Y-yes.”

... Your wish is granted.

Izuku Midoriya is terrified out of his mind.

How can a single field trip go so wrong? It was supposed to be a day of fun and hard work, to learn how to rescue civilians. Mr. Aizawa and Thirteen were supposed to be watching them go through simulations of floods and earthquakes and fires. All Might was supposed to appear just for a quick lecture then leave. The USJ was supposed to be… fun.

And yet, Mr. Aizawa is on the ground and dying, and All Might is struggling to best the creature known as the Nomu.

The strange hand villain - Shigaraki? - laughs as the two behemoths bash at each other to no avail. “You can’t beat him, All Might. Nomu is engineered to beat you. Even if you somehow bypass Shock Absorption, he can regenerate faster than you can punch.”

The number one hero roars, and throws another volley of punches, sending the Nomu back. “Do you really think that’ll be enough to stop me, villain? Plus Ultra!”

All Might draws back his arm, then swings, and the shockwave is enough to send the onlookers a step back. The Nomu is thrown to the side, its right arm suddenly gone, and it tumbles on the ground as All Might begins to step forward.

The monster stands, and the stump of its arm begins to wriggle, before it bursts outwards, and solidifies itself into a limb once more.

The green-haired boy’s heart sinks as he sees his mentor begin to breathe heavily, and the steam that begins to rise off of him. All Might’s time is running out, and the Nomu is no less powerful than it was minutes before.

Then there’s a flash of light, so blinding that everyone throws their hands up and flinches away, and even then it’s enough to sear their eyes.

When he’s able to see again, Izuku sees two figures standing there, one much larger than the other. The taller one is a boy, just a few years older than Izuku himself but much taller and more muscular, with bandages wrapped around his face, black pants and a jacket covering a school uniform. His pompadour and furious dark eyes only reinforce the image of a delinquent. Sweat covers his head, as if he had just been running.

Most interesting is the gleaming silver bat that rests on his shoulder.

He looks around confusedly, and takes a step around. “What the… Zenko, where are we?”

The little girl next to him is about half his height, and has the same facial features as her older brother, but not the same temperament. A cardigan and frock fit on her prettily, as do her black shoes and frilly socks. If Izuku had to say, she looks around nine or ten years old.

She gasps at the sight of the Nomu and grabs her brother’s arm. The delinquent sees the monster as well, and slits his eyes, taking in the scene. “A monster… so you wanted to take Zenko hostage while I was injured so you could blackmail the S Class, is that it? Oh, you fucking bastards.”

He ruffles his sister’s hair absentmindedly, and raises the bat in his hands. “Zenko, go over there with those kids. And don’t look, because I promised not to show violence to you, remember?”

“Who the hell is this? Nomu, just kill him.”

The little girl dashes over to the group of students, decidedly not looking back, with a look of worry on her face. All Might, who has sunk to his knees, calls out with fear on his face. “Young man, you cannot hope to fight this villain, please, withdraw-”

The Nomu is suddenly in front of the delinquent, and a single strike sends the teen stumbling. There’s an ugly crack as the boy’s head hits the ground, and the monster raises its hands over its head to finish the job. Several people scream as they watch the monster, just a heartbeat away from taking a life, and Izuku recognizes his own voice among them.

“Oi, you FUCKING bastard!”

There’s another crack, and suddenly the Nomu is staggering to the side. The delinquent rises to his feet, and there’s an angry air about his figure. Blood drips from his arm onto the ground, but he doesn’t seem to care.

Everyone else does, though.

Izuku gasps unwillingly, and he can hear several similar reactions from his classmates. All Might’s jaw drops, almost touching his neck, and the hero has stopped moving completely, in order to watch.

“How the-- How did you survive a strike from Nomu?!” Shigaraki’s voice shrills out as the boy hefts his bat. “That should have been enough to put a dent into even All Might--”

“Fuck reasons, it’s FIGHTING SPIRIT!”

The bat smashes into the Nomu’s head and it staggers again, before swinging at the boy. He takes the hit to the head, but remains standing, and bashes the monster over the head once more. The Nomu is forced to take a step back, and it’s like the delinquent was waiting for it.

A barrage of blows smashes into the colossus, and blood begins to paint the ground as slowly but surely, the immovable object begins to falter, to fall back. The gleam of the silver bat flashes so quickly it makes Izuku dizzy just from looking at it.

Somehow, he feels bad for the villain that was able to hold its ground against All Might.

The Nomu falls to its knees, and a final swing sends it crashing to the ground. The delinquent kicks at it, before whirling around, and Izuku flinches. Fury is drawn all over his face, and he jerks his finger at Shigaraki, who involuntarily takes a step back. “You bastard, allying yourself with a monster? How low--”

The Nomu’s hand grabs at his ankle and throws, flinging the boy across the USJ to smash into buildings far, far away. As one, the students breathe sharply in horror as it rises, its injuries already beginning to heal, though much slower than before.

Shigaraki lets out a laugh like nails screeching across metal, without a sign of nervousness. “Do you see, All Might? Nomu is unstoppable! You can’t--”

A building in the distance shatters into pieces, and everyone whirls around to watch it collapse. More gasps echo as the boy steps forward, fury painting itself all over his face, along with the blood that streaks across his forehead. His jacket is torn and his uniform ripped, but he doesn’t look like he cares as he flicks the blood off his face. He grits his teeth, then roars. “YOU MESSED UP NOW, YOU FUCKING BASTARD.”

There’s a burst of wind and Izuku feels a blast of air whoosh by him before the delinquent is suddenly in front of the Nomu. Before he can blink, the boy swings, and the bat smashes itself into the villain’s skin.

The shockwave sends him back, even as he sees the blunt metal cut through flesh and bone. The Nomu explodes as if it had shattered into a million different pieces, and gore sprays across the USJ. The metal bat cleaves through the villain, then hits the ground, and the floor splits itself in half at the blow.

There’s no way anything can recover from that. And even if it could, it would take too long to recover to be able to do anything.

Shigaraki roars furiously, and bounces forward. “You’re open, you fucking side quest!”

The teen whirls around, faster than anyone can react, and readies to swing his back. Kurogiri tenses, before his form whirls in front of the hand-wearing villain. The bat smashes into the fog-man’s metal faceplate, shattering it completely into two, and throws both villains far backwards, into the boundaries of the USJ.

The teleporter is probably lucky the blow only glanced off of him, because otherwise he probably wouldn’t have a head left.

The delinquent takes a single step forward, and raises his bat menacingly.

“Kurogiri! KUROGIRI WE GOTTA RUN--” Shigaraki’s voice is hoarse as he shakes at his injured companion, terror in his eyes. The other villain’s eyes snap open, and with a purple shiver, the two of them fade out into a portal, and disappear.

The delinquent stops, then sighs and turns around. His eyes trace over the students and All Might’s fallen form coldly, and Izuku feels a shiver running down his spine. “Right, I’m going to be asking the questions now. Where the hell am I--”

“Surrender, vi-- eh? They’re gone?”

Of course, the doors to the USJ burst open right at that moment, and about ten heroes pile through, with Iida in the lead. They all stop when the only unknown person they see is the bleeding, furious delinquent, slowly beginning to calm himself down.

It’s almost possible to hear their thoughts.

What the hell happened here?

“Oh hey, Demon Cyborg. Any idea where we are?”

Zombieman takes a cigarette and a lighter out of his pocket as he watches his fellow hero stand uncomfortably straight. He notes that the cyborg seems just as confused as he feels himself. A click of his lighter, and he breathes in the familiar scent of the cigar, reveling in the one thing he knows.

“No, not at all. I was hoping to ask you.”

“Well, there’s a road, we might as well follow it.”

Zombieman dislikes working with others, but when there’s nothing else he knows at all, hell, he might as well group up with his coworker.

Seconds ago, he was alone, having just finished off a cigarette and thirty or so monsters in a room he’d locked himself in. Right as he finished regenerating and he stood up, he found himself in the middle of… a highway? On the other side stood Demon Cyborg, and that was that.

They walk side by side in silence, in less camaraderie than coworkers should have, but he’s completely fine with that. He only works with the guy, it’s not like the two of them would live and die together.

Hell, even if Zombieman dies, he’ll just come back to life on his own.

“Sensei?”

He’s snapped out of his thoughts at the call from the cyborg, and looks up to see a bald man in a yellow suit and red gloves, white cape behind him. Oh right, his ‘sensei.’ There’s no way this guy’s strong enough to teach an S Class, so… huh, what could he actually be? Maybe he’s, like, the mechanic? Nah, probably not. Maybe a former teacher? Huh, could be, explains the name.

“Oh, hey Genos.” The bald man is as unexpressive as ever, and Zombieman racks his brain to remember the guy’s name. Oh, right, it was Saitama, I think. I don’t even remember his hero name, but I bet it’s something stupid like Caped Baldy. What a cruel fate.

“You know where we are?”

“No, sensei, we were hoping you would.”

“Well, that sucks. What are you guys doing?”

“We’re walking down this road, sensei.”

“Sounds good, let’s go.”

Now Zombieman finds himself walking again, but with two other people, both of whom are stoically silent. Well, Demon Cyborg is, at least. Saitama’s picking his earwax or something, and looking around.

Maybe that’s a good thing, because after a few seconds, his bored voice calls out. “Hey, isn’t that a building? Wait, that’s a weird building.”

Damn, that really is a weird building. Wait, no, that’s a stadium. Wait, is it a stadium?

The huge dome in front of them can’t be anything more than some kind of structure, maybe some kind of athletic field? There’s a group of people crowded by the entrance, all in gaudy outfits. “You see those people there? It’s probably worth a try to ask them where we are--”

“Wait, is that…?” There’s a whirring sound as Demon Cyborg narrows his eyes, presumably zooming in, and a small gasp after he does so. “That’s Metal Bat, in the middle there, with… his sister?”

“... How did I not recognize that ridiculous hairstyle immediately?”

In the middle of the crowd, a little bit away from everyone else, stands a familiar figure, looking a bit more battered than usual and hefting a similarly familiar, silvery baseball bat. Clutching at his hand and looking around nervously is a slightly less familiar little girl, one that Zombieman has seen a couple times. The two S Class begin to jog over, followed closely by the B Class baldy.

“Hey, Metal Bat! Is that you?”

Class 1-A’s savior raises his head at the name, and his eyes go wide as he takes in the sight of the three newcomers, then a confused smirk worms its way on his face. “Wha-- Oi, do you know where the fuck we are?”

“No clue!”

Izuku turns to see three men slowly jogging towards them. The one that spoke has pale white skin and is dressed in a trench coat. An axe the size of his head gleams on his shoulders, and Izuku can see the holster of a gun within the coat. His red eyes are calm and welcoming now, but there’s an angry glare about them that makes him shiver. Next to him is a tall younger man, probably a teenager by the looks of him. Blond and handsome, with metal plating his arms -- or are those actually robotic arms? Whatever the case, he can hear the class girls beginning to whisper among themselves about the man.

The last man seems completely out of place; bald, a goofy face and an even more out-of-place yellow suit, complete with red gloves and boots and a white cape.

The delinquent strides forward with something akin to a relieved grin on his face, and his sister seems to recognize the newcomers as well. “Well, it’s nice to have someone I actually know here, I guess. Especially when these weirdos keep asking me questions and I don’t get to say any for myself.”

“Metal Bat, did you get into a fight?” The one with the robotic arms has a calm, measured voice, and his face is completely emotionless, which makes Izuku a little uncomfortable. “There’s blood all over your face and your clothes are ripped.”

“Ah, yeah, just fought some monster inside of there. Think it was a Demon-level. I dunno, I’ve never been good with this kinda thing, but it was going to slaughter these people.”

Demon level?

“Let’s finish our questioning first.” Aizawa’s badly wounded and has to be supported by Present Mic, and his voice is hoarse and barely audible, but it breaks through the silence that has fallen on the heroes. “You’re not going anywhere until we get the full story.”

“Fuck off and go to a hospital already, old man.”

The rebuke is slightly worried and honestly a lot more caring than it seems, but it still seems like Aizawa took a lot of damage from the last two words. Izuku doesn’t blame him; age is a sensitive subject around adults.

The delinquent doesn’t seem to know that, though, and glances around curiously at the gasps and oohs that come from the crowd around him. “What? I’m not sure how he’s even awake right now. That arm looks nasty.”

“Onii-chan, that’s mean.”

“O-oh, is it? I’m sorry.”

“Wait, Bat, weren’t you in the hospital after fighting Garou? How are you already up and running?” The man with the axe tilts his head at the newly named Metal Bat, and the teen shrugs in response.

“Death is just a flesh wound. You of all people should know that, Zombieman.”

Dang, this guy’s really cool!

“Well, you’re not wrong, but I thought that was just a me thing. Anyways, you were out pretty badly. Fighting Elder Centipede and the Hero Hunter in a single hour, I thought you’d be out for longer. Probably should be resting right now, shouldn’t you?” Izuku can hear concern in the words, but not the voice, and that makes him uneasy.

“Heroes don’t have time to stay in bed, especially when something as big as the Monster Association Raid’s going on. Speaking of which, is that what you guys were doing?”

“I was invited. These two weren’t.” The pale man - Zombieman? - shrugs, and gestures at his axe. “Just finished regenerating after getting rid of a vampire and his cronies before getting teleported.”

“I went to the Monster Association with Mr. Bang, Mr. Bomb and Ms. Fubuki. We got split up along the way, however.” The cyborg’s voice is very calm and quiet, completely different from Metal Bat’s coarse, rough words, and it just gives off a sense of calculating, of thinking. “We had originally gone with King to look for Sensei here, but by chance Zombieman and I found him not far from where we were brought.”

“Oh yeah, I just heard something really loud in the sewers beneath my house and went to investigate.” The bald man - wait, Sensei? Does that mean he’s stronger than the cyborg? - picks absentmindedly at his ear, and shrugs. “Also, these people should really get to a hospital, I can see a couple of them who look like they’re going to die from blood loss if they don’t get help.”

UA teachers and students alike are still blinking, and trying to process this new flood of information. Now that it’s mentioned, Izuku thinks that the same thought is running through all their heads.

Shit, he’s right.

Endeavor is first alerted to the commotion outside when he sees a strange, unkempt man, a cape and paper crown thrown onto him, fire a laser and destroy an entire building.

For a second, the number two hero rubs at his eyes and wonders if it’s just a dream. But no, the strange man is still there, and still firing lasers from his hands, and still floating in the middle of the sky.

On the ground, there are several strange men - are they even human? - are attacking civilians, with what looks to be a… sentient bubble of water? One looks like something out of a dentist’s office, another is the most horrifyingly ugly man he’s ever seen, there’s a huge cat standing on its hind legs and slashing out with terrifyingly long claws, a pair of strangely dressed, sword-wielding, long-haired men, and hundreds and hundreds of small men, dressed in black and with pale white faces.

It would be laughable if they hadn’t slowly been creating a bloodbath.

The number two hero rushes out the door, flares up his hands, and begins to run.

He doesn’t realize when the cat turns its eyes on him, and he doesn’t know exactly when the three massive scars lash themselves over his chest. But he does know when the pain hits, the instant that the blood bursts out of his chest and sends him stumbling to the ground.

It hurts worse than anything he’s ever felt before.

Something grabs at his arm, drapes it around their shoulders, someone else at his other arm, and they begin to run. His vision returns enough for him to see it’s a bleeding Mirko, her costume torn and ripped, her right arm badly mangled. On his other side is Best Jeanist, similarly injured and bleeding.

His eyes are just good enough to make out the massive shape that flickers into his vision.

“Look… out…”

His voice is barely loud enough to croak out a warning before the man in front of them rises to its full height. Dragons roar all across its entire body, forming its entire body, and one of them swats absentmindedly at Best Jeanist.

Endeavor doesn’t feel anything from his left side, and that concerns him. He vaguely looks over and realizes that both the other hero and his left arm are gone. All that’s left is a bloody mess, and a vague stain in the road behind them.

Mirko swears, swings him onto her back, then leaps. He can feel the air rushing as slowly, he begins to black out.

The dragon man doesn’t seem to notice or care at all.

Ever since his introduction, Hero Killer Stain has been one of the most terrifying villains in all of Japan.

Fast. Strong. Gives off an aura of fear. Unexpectable. Terrifying. Someone who has earned the greatest praise a villain can hear, that no one short of All Might would be able to defeat him. Those who saw him in action were more likely to turn their head and pretend they never saw anything, because they know that he could hunt them down without a second thought.

So naturally, when Stain saw a young man walking towards him with a determined look in his eyes, he was surprised. Couldn’t he see the body that lay at his feet? Couldn’t he tell by the sword in his hand and the crazed look in his eyes that the man he was walking towards was the Hero Killer?

“Did you bring me here?”

The question makes Stain blink, and he stands fully to his feet. Even without hunching over, he’s dwarfed by the other man, who stands a good half head taller than he does. Stain has never prided himself on his musculature but he has always been confident that he could outmuscle anyone, save All Might. Yet the boy in front of him is built powerful and slim, with a well-defined frame and a powerful body. It’s only shown off more by tight-fitting black clothes, which are partially torn around his hip.

That isn’t even the most unsettling part of his appearance.

One eye is bloodshot, and the whites of his eyes aren’t white but rather blood red. His hair as well, which sticks up in the shape of a V, is scarlet. There are signs of various scars all over his body, but all of them seem to be fading quickly.

It makes even the Hero Killer take a step back.

“Who are you?” Usually, his snarling voice is enough to chase off those brave enough to stay even after realizing his identity, but the other man doesn’t flinch. “Do you not know who I am?”

“Not a clue.” The other man tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowed as he takes in the situation. “What are you, some petty criminal trying to make off with a couple grand?”

“Petty criminal? I’m the Hero Killer, kid. Scram, I don’t feel like killing more than one person today.”

The other man blinks, and Stain waits for the realization to sink in, for him to run off screaming. But the only reaction he gets is a curling lip, and a sneer of distaste. “What, you trying to steal my title now?”

I don’t know who this kid is, but he’s getting on my nerves.

Without warning, Stain leaps at the other man, blade flashing. He’s never attacked normal civilians before, and it’s against his code of honor, but he’s certain this man is no ordinary man.

The next few seconds just prove that.

Stain’s attack should have been something no one should be able to react to. A simple jab, from less than ten feet away, in the middle of a tight and cramped alleyway. All Stain has to do is reach his hand out, and the sword would gut his opponent. No one without a superspeed Quirk would be able to react.

His sword goes farther than he expected, and he stumbles forward as something metal taps onto the ground. Was it just him, or did he see a red light?

Then pain hits the same time as the barrage of blows that smashes into his face, his chest, his arms.

The entire world seems to glow a bright blue as a tidal wave of strikes shatter his bones and draw blood. He can only collapse to the ground and spit out broken teeth when the other man decides to stop striking him.

His sword clatters to the ground, and dimly, he realizes that most of the blade is gone, sheared pieces like so many tiny buttons. It hurts to breathe. It hurts to think.

“... What a letdown. You should be glad I don’t kill humans.”

As the other man walks away, completely unscathed, Stain’s eyes manage to stay open long enough for him to see the flickering red light attached to a camera.

Then everything goes black.

Chapter Text

“For heaven’s sake, he really had to go and pass out like a hundred feet from the hospital.” Zombieman’s grumbles fall on empty ears as he carries an unconscious Metal Bat on his back, and Zenko tugs anxiously at her brother’s limp arm. “Don’t worry, kiddo, I’m sure he’s fine, he’s taken a lot more hits than from just a demon level threat. He’ll be fine.”

“I have analyzed his condition, and while he is certainly not completely healthy, he will definitely survive, given we are right in front of the hospital.” Genos’s attempt at a reassuring smile is enough to calm down the girl, and she nods silently, before pouting a little.

“Onii-chan’s so reckless… ”

Saitama yawns as he watches the three from the side, and glances over at the twenty-five or so people that hang onto every word from the sidelines. Hurriedly, they look away, but he knows what they were doing nonetheless.

Can they really call themselves heroes if they just stand around and gawk at people instead of actually getting injured people inside a hospital? Seems useless.

Wait, actually…

“Oi, if you’re just going to stand around, can one of you take care of her?” At his words, the heroes and students all jump, before glancing at each other. None of them really seem like bad kids, though that spiky-haired blond one is getting on his nerves, so it should be fine.

Zombieman and Genos seem to catch on quickly and agree with his thought process, which is good.

“Zenko, is it okay if you stay with those kids for a bit? We need to see if your brother’s okay, especially since he fought Garou and Elder Centipede a couple days ago.” Zombieman nudges her gently with his hip, and Genos pats her on the shoulder. The girl looks up at them, then nods, before slowly walking over to the group that looks over at her nervously. A brown haired girl leans out from the crowd, and says something, which Saitama doesn’t bother listening to, and Zenko seems to respond positively.

Good kids…

“Zombieman, do you wish for me to take Metal Bat in your stead?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

Genos grunts slightly as he moves to pick up the unconscious hero, and the three of them begin moving forward to the hospital. Saitama glances over at the boy who was so energetic just moments ago, and quirks his lip. “What happened to him?”

“Metal Bat has this thing called fighting spirit, which is basically just him being pigheaded and refusing to go down and getting stronger as he does. Once that runs out, he realizes how much he’s been hurt, like in a cartoon.” Zombieman’s voice is a bit quiet and longing, as if he wished he had that ability himself, but Saitama chooses to ignore it and just nod.

Must be tough, being a hero like that at such a young age…

“Who do you think those people are?”

“Beats me. We can ask the girls later, since they’re with that guy’s sister right now.”

The boys of class 1-A are all circled around Izuku’s hospital bed, and he has to admit, it feels good to have people that’ll talk to him willingly like this. But that’s nothing compared to the wonder he felt from seeing Metal Bat in action, even if he passed out afterwards.

“That guy, uh, Metal Bat? He was manly as hell.” There’s a bit of awe in Kirishima’s voice, and no one blames him. “He just didn’t go down at all, and I think he just started hitting harder at some point. Like, he did a number on that… that thing.”

Everyone shivers silently as they remember the giant, beaked monster, but that doesn’t surprise Izuku more than Kacchan remaining silent. He would have thought that the other boy would have been bragging more about being able to fight villains and come out on top. But instead, he’s just sitting there, quietly, thinking.

“I’m more surprised on how he was able to outdamage a villain that went head-to-head with All Might, when he appears to be only a few years older than we are.” Todoroki’s voice cuts through the silence like a knife, and Izuku finds himself nodding. Then thinking.

Is that why Kacchan’s so silent?

Ever since we were kids, he’s been told that he’s the strongest and the greatest and the most powerful and things like that, so he’s always thought no one would be able to compare to him. I know for sure he was mad when people like Todoroki were able to fight on par with him, and when I was able to use One For All to beat him in the ball test… but now?

Not only was he beaten by someone around our age, that person was so strong they made All Might look bad.

He must be wondering if everything he’s been told was a lie.

“Yeah, like, how was he so strong? I’d say he’s one or two years older than us at most, but what the hell, he kicked ass. Did you see that last hit? I’m not sure if he has a baseball bat, or a sword.”

“Like, he cracked the ground in half and he just destroyed that building like it was nothing! What kind of insane strength do you need to do that?”

“Do you think he’s some kind of supersoldier, from some supersoldier program? I feel like that would actually make sense.”

“Sero, you read too many shounen mangas.”

“I… I’m kinda curious about… about where they’re from.”

Only when everyone looks over at him does Izuku realize that he was the one that spoke, and his face goes a little red. But he’s already started speaking, so he might as well finish. “I’ve never heard of anyone like that, even in foreign countries, and I… uh, I know a lot about heroes.”

“Fucking Deku has notebooks on notebooks filled with him stalking heroes. Him not knowing something about a hero is a big deal.”

Uh… thanks, Kacchan…?

“Wait, seriously??” Kirishima scratches at his head, and frowns. “So you’re saying they aren’t heroes at all?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Huh. Well, I guess we’re waiting for the girls then. Anyone got a phone number to text or something?”

Everyone shakes their heads no, and Kirishima frowns again. “Well, where are they? If they’re nearby then someone can go get them; I don’t think anyone except Midoriya needed a hospital bed, so we can all gather here.”

“Even without information, we can still talk about those four men from what we’ve heard.” Iida’s energy is all gone, and he leans forward without any of his fierce determination showing on his face. “Demon level? Elder Centipede? Monster Association? What does any of that mean?”

“What terrifies me the most is that Metal Bat - was that his name? - referred to the Nomu like nothing more than a chore.” Again, Todoroki’s words slash through the conversation, and everyone freezes as they consider his words. “And the other three didn’t seem to think heavily of his description, although it was quite a short one.”

“But to call it a demon level threat… are not demons terrifying and powerful creatures of darkness? Why would they be seen as nothing more than fodder to them?” Tokoyami has his arms crossed as he reclines into his chair, and everyone blinks as they take in his words.

“And talking about a Monster Association… do they come from a world that discriminates against heteromorphs or something? Or are they talking about, like, actual monsters, like Godzilla?” Kaminari puffs out his mouth, and grits his teeth. At his words, Izuku can see Tokoyami and Koda flinching slightly. He doesn’t blame them at all.

“And about the people themselves… why is that… Zombieman? Why is Zombieman so pale? What’s the story with… Demon Cyborg? Demon Cyborg’s metallic arms? And why is someone as unimpressive and boring-looking as Mr. Saitama with them?” Everyone blinks at Todoroki’s sudden burst of questions, and they scratch their heads.

“I mean, Demon Cyborg did call Mr Saitama ‘Sensei,’ so he could be actually stronger than all of them…?”

Everyone instantly shakes their heads at the thought from Shoji, and Kacchan is the one to voice their thoughts out loud. “There’s no way someone who looks that fucking stupid is stronger than All Might. And I doubt Demon Cyborg or Frankenstein ripoff would lose to him either.”

We have a lot of questions… I wonder how many of them will be answered?

If Principal Nezu could have heard the conversation, he would probably have lauded the boys for observing and asking smart questions. Not in the least because he was wondering about the exact same things.

Even with all the UA teachers lined up and armed behind him, he still feels tense and nervous for the conversation to come.

“Hello, misters… uh, Metal Bat, Demon Cyborg, Zombieman, and Caped Baldy? Please, come in.”

“Call me Saitama.” The bald man looks tired as he says that, and Nezu can’t blame him. What kind of name is Caped Baldy?

“Oi, the fuck is this? A talking rat? You some kinda monster?” At those words, Nezu immediately scrambles back and raises his paws hopelessly. The heroes behind him all tense up and prepare to fight, but Zombieman is faster than them and grabs at his younger companion’s arm.

“Metal Bat, this… rat… is clearly someone important. And I don’t think this place has the same distinctions between monster and human that we do. It would be good to hear him out.”

Each of them walk over to take one of the four seats, and the principal begins sweating as he feels four gazes on him. Two are openly hostile, the others are indifferent, and all four are curious.

Nezu gulps.

“As you are aware, we have no idea who you are, neither do you have any idea who we are. We ran a quick search through our databases in order to confirm, and there is no record of anyone with anything similar to Mr. Metal Bat’s quirk.”

“We would like to ask our questions as well.” Demon Cyborg’s voice cuts through what Nezu hoped would have been a quick, one-sided introduction to an interrogation, and his heart sinks. “It is only fair for us to know what you do.”

“I’m afraid that we would like to ask our questions first.” There’s a small quiver in Ectoplasm’s voice, and the heroes again tense up for what’s to come.

“Then there is no reason for us to be here.”

“Eh?”

The UA teachers all blink as Metal Bat, Zombieman and Demon Cyborg, followed shortly by Saitama, rise from their seats. As they turn to go, Nezu calls out hurriedly. “Wait, wait, wait! We’re not done here yet! Where are you even going to go?”

“To find someone who will give us information.” With that, the four file out of the room, and the teachers are all left staring at the place they were seconds ago.

“Wait, did we really just let them leave?”

Nezu turns around and shrugs helplessly at Present Mic, who scratches at his head. “What can we do against the man that hits harder than All Might and almost completely recovered from potentially mortal wounds in a matter of minutes?”

All members of Class 1-A glance up curiously as the door opens, then jump back in surprise when Metal Bat storms through, a nasty glint in his eyes. Zenko stands up and rushes over to him. “Onii-chan, you’re up already?”

“Yeah, Zenko, I’m up.”

Behind him, the three others file in, and the four of them survey the room. There’s no hostility in their faces, but it’s still enough for all nineteen of the students that are sitting in chairs to scoot backwards.

Izuku gulps, and shifts just a bit to the far end of his hospital bed.

Just ten minutes ago, Iida had gone out and found the girls, inviting them over for a chat. Zenko seemed to have warmed up to them quickly, but they hadn’t found out much about where she was from or what her brother was doing. So instead, the twenty of them had been gathered around and trying to figure out who the four really were.

“Oh, it’s you guys. The ones from the stadium thing.” Saitama shrugs slightly, and Zombieman smiles a little. He doesn’t have the axe anymore, presumably left behind somewhere, but the holster of pistol still gleams sinisterly in his jacket. Izuku looks down and tries to pretend he never noticed it there.

“Well, we have a few questions we wanted to ask, if that’s okay with you. We’ll just ask them and leave, okay?”

In an instant, the top twenty freshmen in the country all turn into bobbleheads, and Metal Bat snickers a little. Izuku can’t help but note that his jacket is gone and there are a few bandages wrapped around him, but other than that he seems completely fine, and more than capable of using that metal baseball bat in his hand to smash in someone’s skull.

He looks down again and tries to pretend he never thought of that.

“First and foremost, I would wish to inquire about our present location.”

“Genos, speak a human language.”

“Ah. I would wish to ask where we are.”

Everyone glances at each other, eyes narrowed in confusion, before Iida stands up and begins waving his arms about. “You are currently in UA, in Japan, located in Musutafu, which is--”

“The fuck is a Japan?” Even Iida instantly goes silent in shock as the four glance over at each other confusedly. “Cyborg, you must have an entire encyclopedia inside that head of yours, do you know what ‘Japan’ is?”

For a second, Demon Cyborg goes silent, glaring into thin air, before turning to look at his companion and speaking. “I have just cross-referenced five hundred and sixty three databases, and in none of them can I find a location or even a reference to a ‘Japan.’ We’re completely lost.”

“Hey, isn’t there a whole manga genre where things like this happen all the time? I think it’s called Isekai.” Saitama scratches absentmindedly at his head, and everyone blinks at that statement.

If you were Isekai’d into a world, it would probably be one that looks and acts all medieval and magical, not this one, right?

“I won’t rule that out as a possibility, sensei, but we should probably gain more information before drawing a conclusion.”

“What he said.”

“Alright, well.” Zombieman sighs, then turns back to the students. “Next questions, why were you all in that stadium getting attacked by an alleged demon-level threat? Why were you being attacked?”

Iida still doesn’t seem to have recovered from the shock of someone not knowing what Japan is, so Yaoyorozu speaks in his stead. “We were on a field trip to a… disaster simulator. We were attacked by villains in order to draw out All Might, who is our top hero.”

“Wait, disaster simulator? Why would you go on a field trip to a disaster simulator?”

“Because we’re heroes in training.”

Kacchan’s words are a little cocky and a little prideful, but the reaction he receives isn’t one anyone could have anticipated. All four blink, then Zombieman and Metal Bat chuckle slightly, while a small, unbelieving smile curves across Demon Cyborg’s face and Saitama looks even more confused. “So you’re saying that all you have to do to become a hero is just go to the right school? Damn, that sounds weird as fuck.” Metal Bat snorts and glances over at Zombieman, who gives a similar smirk.

“I can’t imagine that being a very effective strategy, if I am honest. Heroes are made out of carnage and bloodshed, not at a desk in a schoolhouse.” Demon Cyborg is similarly disparaging, and he sighs. “If only it were that easy to become strong and understand what it means to be powerful.”

“That sounds like a huge waste of time, honestly.” Even Saitama has something snarky to say, and everyone deflates instantly, like pricked balloons.

... What kind of hero system do they have?

“Erm… I’d like to ask a question, please.” Uraraka waves her hand from her position next to Izuku’s bed, and all eyes shift onto her. “What kind of hero system do you have, if it’s different from ours?”

The four men glance at each other for a minute, before Zombieman sighs. “Well, let me ask another question first, then I’ll answer that. Can humans look like… not humans? Like, maybe looking like mutated animals or something out of a fantasy game?”

“... Are you talking about heteromorphs?”

“If that’s what you call them, then yeah.”

Yaoyorozu clears her throat, but before she does, Saitama holds up a hand. “Keep it short, please.”

“... Ah.” Obviously caught off guard, her mouth hangs open as if she’s searching for something to say, but nothing comes out. In her stead, Todoroki’s words slash through the silence again.

“Almost everyone has a Quirk, which is what was called a superpower in the old days. They’re divided up into three categories, one of which is mutant. It means humans are born looking not like conventional humans, but something different.”

“So what you’re saying is, they’re still human, just don’t look like them.”

“Precisely.”

“Well, that makes life difficult.” Zombeiman sighs, and the other three seem to echo his sentiment. “Now I gotta check for whether or not they’re a good guy instead of stabbing them from the beginning.”

“It would appear to be a pain.”

“...Er, what about my… question?” Uraraka’s voice is small, but everyone can hear it, and the four nod.

“Sensei’s theory about a different world seems to hold more credibility now, thus I will refer to it as ‘our world’ and ‘your world.’” Demon Cyborg pauses for just a second, as if thinking, then turns to Saitama. “Sensei, I will provide a longer explanation just this once. Please forgive me.”

“Oh, whatever, just get on with it already.”

The cyborg nods, then turns back to the students. “In our world, there is a clear line between human and monster, and they are locked in a continual war. Monsters kill civilians and destroy cities without remorse, and in turn, heroes fight and slay monsters in order to keep civilians safe. In order to register as a hero, one must take the entrance exam at the Hero Association and pass. Then, they will be given a rank, primarily of one of the letters S, A, B and C, and then of a number to represent where they are inside that class. Many fail, and even if one passes, it is incredibly rare that a new B Class is immediately elected, not to mention A and S Classes. Of those S Class, Zombieman, Metal Bat, and Saitama sensei is B Class.”

“Eh? Doesn’t that mean he’s weaker than you?”

A shadow seems to come over the cyborg’s face, and he glares at Kaminari, who shrinks into his chair and begins to sweat buckets. “There was an… error… in the grading system.”

“Well, we’ll figure that out later.” Zombieman places a hand on the cyborg’s arm, and the man relents. “Anything else you want to ask?”

“Are you actually a robot?”

“Yes.”

“Damn, I’d still sma-- still hot though.”

“Mina, this isn’t the time.”

Demon Cyborg makes a vaguely disturbed and disgusted face, and Saitama pats him on the shoulder reassuringly, as if saying “there, there.” Metal Bat’s face contorts, as does Zombieman’s; a majority of the 1-A students join them. It’s no wonder that the cyborg’s next words aren’t as calm and warm as they were before.

“Any relevant questions?”

Everyone glares at Ashido for a second, and the pink girl shrivels up slightly, before turning back to the four. There’s a brief second of silence, before one of Shoji’s arms contort into a mouth. “Would you think that the Nomu was particularly strong?”

“...” Metal Bat looks at him silently for a second, before shrugging. “The thing was a lot tougher than most monsters, but I’ve fought stronger. Someone like King or Tatsumaki would have killed it in half a second and moved on.”

Everyone blinks for a second, before their jaws drop.

Someone fodderizing a monster as powerful as All Might? What kind of--

Their conversation is cut short when behind the four, shouting erupts down the hall. Izuku hears a voice he finds familiar for some reason, yet can’t quite place. “The fuck do you mean you don’t have enough space? This is Endeavor for Christ’s sake, at the very least you can get him a bed!”

Todoroki stiffens, and bursts up from his chair, dashing outwards. The rest of the class aren’t far behind, and the four men (and Zenko too) follow a bit more slowly and curiously. Izuku knows he shouldn’t be walking, but curiosity gets the better of him, and he stumbles down from the bed. Uraraka slips herself under his shoulder, and ignoring his surprised stutters, supports him as the two walk out of the room.

When the twenty children take in the sight in front of them, a collective gasp rises, while Saitama’s face contorts into one of concern. Zombieman clenches his teeth grimly, and Metal Bat lets out a small whistle of surprise.

In the middle of the hallway, a battered and bruised woman stands, her signature rabbit outfit torn up and shredded almost as much as her bare skin. But it’s nothing compared to the man barely standing with her help, the man whose bright and unmistakable suit is stained scarlet with blood and shredded across the front, whose left arm ends in a stump that still draws fresh blood. His eyes flicker open and closed, and there’s a certain fogginess to them that scares Izuku, obscuring all the righteous fury that he’d always seen on TV.

Todoroki falls to his knees as Miruko continues to yell, desperation leaking into her voice, as Endeavor slowly bleeds to death just feet away from safety.

It’s obvious the wounded man and woman are important, because otherwise Genos is sure the children wouldn’t have been so shellshocked. Maybe in a different situation, yes, from just witnessing the wounds, but those children saw their teacher(?) in a similar state just an hour ago. They shouldn’t be so scared.

The boy with the red and white hair in particular seems to need some time alone, so the four heroes and Zenko find themselves seated outside, watching the TV mounted on the wall blare out the news.

“Terrible news today. Tokyo has been overrun by unknown villains, who were able to easily overpower and defeat countless heroes, as well as civilians. Among the confirmed casualties are Best Jeanist, and Endeavor and Miruko were seen rushing to get medical attention, neither in particularly good conditions.”

The screen shows the center of a large city, in a hub that should have been lively and filled with people, now deserted and bloodied. In the center stand several beings, arms crossed as they face each other. Three appear human; one is gaunt and dressed sloppily and dirty, while the other two…

Genos can’t help but think that they resemble Flashy Flash and Speed-of-Sound Whatshisname.

The others are clearly monsters. There’s no way a single man can be so physically unattractive, one is basically a human cat, another creature looks like a model from a dentist’s office, and there’s a whole crowd of small monsters, pitch black with white faces, looking the exact same as each other.

The thing that stands out most, though, is the massive monster, made from thousands and thousands of writhing dragons, that stands stoically in their midst.

“I’ve seen that one before.” Zombieman takes a breath from a cigarette, then sighs. “Hung around Child Emperor to see what he was doing, and I remember seeing that one caught on one of his security cameras. Looked like the king of the Monster Association.”

“So that is Orochi?” The monster certainly looks the part; it’s massive, intimidating and obviously quite powerful. “It would appear to be quite a fearsome foe; I believe I would have to use everything at my disposal if I were to fight it.”

“So, does that mean the rest of those fuckers are all Monster Association?”

“It would appear to be so.”

“Wasn’t there something about a Garou guy or something…? Hero Hunter or someone like that?” Sensei scratches at his head, and frowns. “I remember hearing about him and getting excited… ”

because he might give me an actual challenge.

Sensei doesn’t have to say the words, but Genos can hear it. As someone who has fought Garou in the past, he knows the Hero Hunter is nothing compared to the incredible power Sensei holds, but it’s nice to have a fantasy. So he remains quiet.

“Speak of the devil.”

Metal Bat’s voice drops to a low growl, and Genos raises his head to look back at the screen as Zenko gasps. He blinks, then opens his mouth to speak. Nothing comes out.

“In more shocking news, a camera caught sight of a battle between Hero Killer Stain and the hero Triumph. While the end result was as bloody as expected, what happened next was nothing anyone could have predicted.”

On the screen, a strange, hunched man rises, holding a bloodied katana in his hands, and looks down an alleyway, where a taller, powerfully built man stands. The first man is enough to catch Genos’s attention; his hair is long and messy, and there are a multitude of weapons latched into his reinforced combat suit. Just at a glance, Genos would place him at around a mid to high B Class villain, if only for the multitude of scars that lines his body.

But how could he ever forget the other man?

The Hero Hunter isn’t wrapped in the same bandages that he was in when Genos fought him just days ago, but instead in a sleek tracksuit that shows off his muscle. His hair splits down the middle to form a V, and one of his eyes are streaked with the same scarlet that stains his hair. There are a few new scars that weren’t there before, but it’s unmistakable.

“Garou.” His voice comes out with a low growl, and Metal Bat nods, a furious glint in his eyes. “He’s here as well.”

“He looks different.” Zenko peers at the screen and frowns. “His eyes were okay and his hair was white when we saw him, right Onii-chan?”

“That’s definitely him, though.”

The two figures appear to exchange words for a bit, before the sword-wielding man lunges forward. Garou’s fingers twitch, before a scarlet light flashes out of them as he moves his hands quickly and in an intricate pattern. As the other man stumbles forward, clearly expecting his sword to be whole and not shattered into many neat pieces, the martial artist’s hands clench. Blue light begins to shimmer as he strikes, lifting the smaller man into the air and not letting him fall.

Familiar blue and red light.

“There’s no way.” The words slip out of Genos’s throat before he can stop them, and everyone looks over at him. “He’s already known to be a master of Silverfang’s Fist of Flowing Water, but he shouldn’t have even the slightest idea of how to use Whirlwind Iron Cutting Fist.”

“Wait, isn’t that… isn’t that Silverfang’s older brother’s technique?’

“Yes.”

“... How?”

There’s a scurrying sound down the hallway, and the five look down to find Nezu, who stops when he realizes who the group of five is. Behind him, two teachers pause, before backing up slightly.

“A-ah! Here you were. I was searching for you four…” Nezu’s voice trails off as Metal Bat flips him off, and Zenko hits her brother in the head. Genos decides to take the opportunity to speak.

“What would you need us for?”

“We… well, first, I would like to figure out what’s going on with all these new developments, and then I have an offer.”

“Cool, what’s the offer?” As always, Sensei is very punctual. I must remember that for the future!

“First… first, it looks like you four figured something out, so… would you please share?”

Zombieman and Genos glance at each other, before the older man shrugs and turns back to the rat-mouse-bear-thing. “Sure. Wanna talk here, or somewhere else?”

“Here is fine.”

“Right, well, what we’ve figured out is…”

“... So, you’re telling me you five are from a different world.”

“Yes, it would appear to be so.”

“And the monsters that have overrun Tokyo, as well as the man that just beat Stain without a second thought?”

“Those bastards too.”

Jiro’s voice quivers slightly as she emulates the voices of Nezu and the men outside, and Yaoyorozu pats her hand comfortingly. Ochako doesn’t blame her; it’s a lot of information to take in.

The entire class is seated around Deku’s bed again, with Jiro not far from the door and using her Quirk to listen in on the conversation outside. Well, everyone except for one; Todoroki is sitting at the far end of the room, curtaining himself off from the rest of them. No one can deny feeling similarly even a tiny bit.

Villains that crushed all of Tokyo without a care in the world. A man that knocked down Stain and went on his day like nothing happened. And of course, someone strong enough to absolutely crush something even All Might was unable to beat.

For the third time in as many minutes, Ochako asks herself if it’s a dream.

Thoughts are racing through her head at a million miles per hour, and she wonders if any of her classmates are wondering the same things. They have to be, right?

“And in your world, there are clear distinctions between monsters and heroes, and monsters should all be killed on sight.”

“We spare villains, because they are humans, but monsters are those who have completely thrown away their humanity in chase of something. They can no longer be classified as men or women, and have an innate bloodlust that can never be satisfied. Thus, they must be put down like rabid animals.”

“... Okay. And you say you four are part of a Hero Association?”

“Saitama-sensei is ranked lower than the three of us at B Class, but I am certain he is much stronger than anyone else. The three of us are at S Class.”

“Are you particularly high ranked in the S Class?”

“Genos and Metal Bat are low-ranking S Class. And even I’m not particularly high up. And I’m still not convinced I deserve to be there, over powerhouses like Flashy Flash or Superalloy Darkshine.”

Everyone blinks. Then jaws drop.

“Did they just say the Bat dude isn’t that strong?”

“I’m going to go get my ears checked. There’s no way that’s right.”

“If Metal Bat’s weak, then how strong is… strong?”

Everyone quiets down as Jiro waves at them, before continuing. “... There’s no way that’s right. You’re telling me Mr. Metal Bat here isn’t particularly strong?”

“That’s right, you got a problem with that?”

“Then… what counts as strong?”

“Well, I was only able to fight that Nomu because I ran across a couple cities beforehand and got pumped up. Someone like Tatsumaki would have just crushed it into a pulp and moved on instantly. That Nomu thing honestly isn’t even one of the strongest monsters I’ve faced, it was just tougher than I expected.”

“So you’re saying there are people much stronger than you?”

“Definitely. I hate to say it, but there are a few people out there, mostly in the S Class. Hey, now that I think about it, wouldn’t Puri Puri freak these people out a lot?”

“Dear god.”

“I suppose we will have to hope that… deviant… isn’t in this world.”

“Uh… back on topic please.”

“What… oh right, yeah. There are people who could kill me without a second thought if I’m not pumped up, and even a few that could do that if I was. I’m strong, just not anywhere close to number one.”

“... Thank you.”

“Hey, so what’s the deal? You said something about one earlier.”

“Oh, right. Well, here’s the deal. As you can see, we have nothing against these monsters from your world. I’ll have a talk with the government higher-ups, but if possible I’ll make arrangements so you can stay at UA while we figure out how to get you back to your home world, in exchange for helping out our heroes fight your monsters and if you would please, help teach our students.”

“Sure, why not. I’m not turning down free things.”

“I agree with Sensei.”

“What else can we do? There’s nothing much we can do.”

“Wait, you want me to help teac?”

“Uh… that would be correct, Mr. Metal Bat.”

“But I’m like, one or two years older than they are. Max.”

“... What?”

Uraraka doesn’t know why everyone else blinks, but she knows she does for a very different reason than she did before.

How do you see a teenager who swears like a sailor and dresses in a literal school uniform, and not know he’s a teenager?

Chapter Text

Unlike most of his fellow teachers, Aizawa isn’t scared of the four heroes from another world. Sure, Metal Bat might be able to hit stronger than All Might, but that doesn’t mean much to the pro. Any Quirk that isn’t a mutant Quirk is useless in his eyes, and he doubts Metal Bat can beat him in a fight without his ridiculous ‘fighting spirit.’

Zombieman, Demon Cyborg and Saitama are unknowns, but there’s no way the former and the latter can do anything without Quirks; while Zombieman is definitely muscular and well-built, he’s nowhere near the power of All Might, and Saitama doesn’t look like he has any muscle other than his heart.

Demon Cyborg could be a problem; he looks like he has a mutant Quirk, which Aizawa isn’t able to do anything against. But that’s what he has colleagues for. Even if the man can shoot lasers out of his eyes, Aizawa doubts he’d be able to do anything against someone like Present Mic or Vlad King, or even All Might, if the top hero can make it.

Still, he finds himself following without a second question when Nezu announces that they’ll be seeing what the newcomers are capable of. It’s important to know what people can do, and his ability requires him to keep his eyes on his opponent, after all. Even if he just recuperated from his injuries a few minutes ago and needs to both remain in bandages and in bed for the next few hours.

After some consideration, Gym Gamma was chosen for this particular test, and Aizawa is huddled near Midnight and Cementoss as the three teachers who’ll probably be able to stop the four. Midnight can probably knock out Zombieman, Saitama and Metal Bat at the very least; Demon Cyborg might be problematic, but Cementoss is in his environment and can probably just stab any of them with a pillar of cement.

Thus, they’ve been chosen to test out their abilities on the four, while the other teachers watch from a distance, ready to jump in if necessary. Even All Might, in his smaller, normal form, is watching, though Aizawa doubts he can do anything of note.

It’s probably a good thing Zenko got left behind with Hound Dog for supervision.

Nezu clears his throat as the four look around at the building, taking in the concrete. “Uh… thank you for coming here. We’d like to do a few tests to see how powerful you four really are, in order to give assignments that are better suited to you four in the future.”

“...What would the tests be?” Zombieman shifts slightly, and his hand strays inside that coat of his. Aizawa narrows his eyes and takes note, and he can feel his fellow heroes tense next to him.

Does he have a weapon inside that coat?

“Can you please demonstrate your abilities first?” Nezu takes a step back slightly, and glances around nervously. “Cementoss here will pull up concrete pillars if you need them.”

“Well then, I’ll go first.”

Midnight almost rips her sleeve off and Aizawa glares with all his might at the unnaturally pale man as he whips something out of his coat. A handgun, and a particularly nice one at that. Something like that can punch holes in steel, no problem.

What does he plan to do with it?

Whatever he was thinking, no one expects the man to hold it up to his temple and fire, tearing bloody chunks out of his head and making his right eye disappear altogether.

Blood splatters all over the floor and cries of shock echo all over the room, but Zombieman only moves casually, reloading the chamber then placing the chamber inside his mouth, then firing again. This time, the entire rest of his head disappears, but his body continues to move, calmly flicking the safety back on and pushing the gun back inside his coat.

The pile of flesh that was once his neck begins to bubble and boil, before a lump of flesh explodes out, slowly sculpting itself back into something more… recognizable. Within seconds, Zombieman’s head is back, indistinguishable from how it was before getting shot, and it glances over at the stunned viewers with a bored, ingenuine smile.

In all his years as a hero and a teacher at the best high school in the country, Eraserhead has never seen anything even remotely close to that level of regeneration.

“Dude, that’s gross. Hey Mister, uh, Nozu? Do you have any spare clothes lying around?” In sharp contrast, Zombieman’s three companions don’t seem surprised at all. If anything, Saitama seems more concerned with brushing the guts off of his bright yellow costume. Demon Cyborg and Metal Bat both grimace as if they were expecting it but still find it disgusting. The former walks over to his apparent sensei and helps brush the stains off.

“I… I’ll make sure to get a spare set of clothes after this is done, Mr. Saitama.” Aizawa has to admire how quickly Nezu manages to recover, but he supposes the creature is the principal for a reason after all. “So, uh, Mr. Zombieman, your ability is natural regeneration?”

“That and a little bit of superstrength and durability. It’s not really a big deal, but I can bend steel bars if need be.” The pale man shrugs like it’s no big deal, but Aizawa can feel his eyes widen ever so slightly behind his goggles.

Bending steel with your bare hands is no big deal?

With a Quirk like that, he must be fine with getting sliced and diced all the time. It… it almost seems too easy to get rid of him if need be.

“Oh… then, Mr. Metal Bat, if you would please? We already have a decent idea of what you can do, but I’m sure there’s more… ”

“Yeah, I gotta get pumped up before I can do anything. Other than that I’m basically a normal person. I’ll just take a few laps around the room real quick.” With that, the delinquent begins to jog, his bat resting calmly on his shoulder. Aizawa glares at him for a second, before turning his gaze back on the other three.

I suppose we’ll find out about him later.

“I suppose I am next?” Demon Cyborg’s voice is clear and precisely enunciated, and he unfolds his arms from where he had crossed them. Aizawa can’t keep his eyes off of the silver, metallic glow, and judging from Midnight’s whistle, neither can either of his coworkers. “If you would please, I believe having a pillar of concrete would allow me to better show my capabilities.”

Nezu nods at Cementoss, who places his hands on the ground. On cue, a cylinder rumbles out of the ground, to tower firmly over everyone in the room. If Aizawa had to guess, he would say it would be around two times his size, and infinitely more powerful.

I’ve seen Cementoss’s pillars take crazy hits before. I think it actually required two half-strength hits from All Might to break down, which in its own makes it something massively powerful. And that one was nothing compared to how big this one is.

And yet, Demon Cyborg isn’t intimidated at all as he raises his right arm and opens his palm.

Aizawa would have missed it if he blinked, and he has to pinch himself to make sure he saw everything correctly. When he feels a jolt of pain from the spot his fingers touched, he pinches again and tells himself he must be seeing things.

But no, the pain is still there and Demon Cyborg’s hand has transformed into a futuristic array of flamethrowers.

“Incinerate.”

A blast of fire slams into the concrete with brute force not even Endeavor would have been able to accomplish, and the heat is enough to force Aizawa to look away and shield his face, even get down on one knee. When he looks back, the pillar is gone with the fire and Cementoss’s lower jaw has almost hit the floor.

What just happened?

“Of course, I have other functionalities such as enhanced physical strength and various tools allowing me to do things such as blind the enemy or force them to stay still. I must say, unfortunately, that my current setting is as a pure glass cannon; against stronger opponents, I have barely any defensive value, as my durability is only slightly greater than that of an average human. While there are a few useful things, such as an immunity to acid and poison, I am overall only power, and no defense.”

Only slightly more durable than an average human? Only?

“I-I take it you’re a robot, then? D-do you have any stronger attacks than that?” Nezu’s voice is trembling, as if he really doesn’t want to hear the answer to the question, but Demon Cyborg doesn’t seem to notice. He nods without the slightest bit of humor on his face, and his right arm whirls back to resemble a hand again.

“Of course. That was a mere Incinerate; I can easily muster up stronger attacks, and if need be, I can use maximum power in a special ten-second mode that allows me to go all out. However, I will say it again, I am not particularly durable right now.”

“O-oh.”

My Quirk won’t be able to affect him for sure; that seems like technology. If we ever get into a fight, we’ll need someone to back us up. And even then I’m not sure close combat fighters would be able to take on fire attacks, while long distance fighters would be helpless if he decides to go for the kill.

We might need Endeavor to fight this guy.

“My turn, get me a pillar thing.” Metal Bat has finished doing his laps, and has his bat resting on his shoulder. There’s a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, but otherwise he seems to be fine and in perfect shape, if his unchanged expression is anything to go by.

Saitama closes his mouth, and Aizawa quietly empathizes with being talked over.

Cementoss takes up another slab from the ground, quite a bit larger and thicker than the one before. Aizawa glances over at the stony-faced hero, and wonders if the ease with which Genos destroyed his previous column shook his ego.

Before the teen begins swinging, Nezu puts a hand up. “Since we know fully well what you’re capable of, we’d like to put a few… variables into play.”

“The fuck? No one told me about this.”

“Midnight here is able to put people to sleep using her Quirk. We will see if that has any effect on you.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

On Nezu’s nod, Midnight rips her sleeve open, and wafts it towards the teenager, who cocks his arm back. He pauses as the aroma reaches him, but then grits his teeth and smashes the pillar.

The damage isn’t nearly as impressive as his previous feat against the Nomu, barely even chipping a little bit off of the stone, and Aizawa begins to feel disappointed as he swings again feebly, bat barely glancing off the slab, before falling to the ground. Really? This is it? This is the guy that hit harder than All Might? Well, I guess he isn’t a proble-

There’s a loud crash, and everyone blinks as the teen slams his forehead into his bat repeatedly. Flecks of blood begin to fall on the ground, and he shakes his head vigorously, before jumping to his feat. A stream of scarlet slides down his forehead but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Man, that wakes me up. Alright, here we go.”

He moves faster than Aizawa can follow, and suddenly the slab is shattered in half, careening dangerously before falling to the side. Metal Bat spits at the concrete, before slinging the bat back onto his shoulder, and glancing over at the shocked onlookers. “That all?”

What the hell?

Nezu again recovers quickly and shakes his head. “We’ll have one more test later, but for now, Mr. Saitama? If you please.”

Cementoss flicks up another pillar, this one much larger and thicker than either of the two before, and Aizawa can’t help but gasp at the size. It towers all the way up to the roof, and it’s twice as wide as he is tall. This thing is absolutely massive.

I wonder, can this Saitama even do anything to it?

“So I just have to punch it, right?”

“Is that what you can do?”

“That’s what I usually do, yeah.”

Nezu nods, and Saitama walks up nonchalantly, without any nervousness or apprehension showing on his face. If Aizawa looks closely, he can even see some boredom in the bald man’s blank eyes as he tilts his head, as if to calculate how hard he’d need to hit to make it impressive.

Wait, I’m getting a bad feeling about this--

A sound like a thunderclap echoes as the man swings casually, and Aizawa is thrown back by a shockwave, his freshly bandaged limbs hitting the floor painfully. As he groans and rises to his feet, his eyes slowly rise to meet the absolute devastation that meets his eyes.

The slab of concrete is gone. There’s nothing left, just an empty gaping hole where a solid lump of cement had once been. That alone would have been impressive, had it not been for what else was missing. Suddenly, Aizawa feels the cold of the night, and he shivers to look up and see the stars twinkling above him. For a moment, he wonders if he’s actually in a planetarium and not at UA.

Metal groans painfully, and he whips his eyes over to the far wall just quickly enough to watch it shatter to pieces and fall to the ground, dragged down by the lumps of cement embedded in it. The other two walls next to it lean dangerously as well.

One halfhearted punch, and half of Gym Gamma was completely destroyed.

What the hell…

I don’t think that’s something anyone short of All Might could do.

He doesn’t hear any gasps, but Aizawa knows that’s only because no one remembers how to breathe as they take in the carnage. Saitama glances around uneasily at everyone’s stunned faces, and glances back at the ruined wall and roof.

“I’m not paying for that.”

Aizawa slaps himself and grits his teeth. No, this is fine. Erasure nullifies anything they can do. Even if Saitama punches harder than All Might and Metal Bat combined, in my eyes he’s no different from a quirkless pedestrian.

Focus, Aizawa. This is fine.

“Bullshit, the fuck you mean you’re a B Class?!” Evidently, Metal Bat and Zombieman weren’t expecting that either, because the former is shouting and the latter’s jaw has also hit the floor. “Are you actually some secret weapon of the Hero Association?”

“No, the Hero Association is too foolish to truly fathom the true depth of Saitama-sensei’s power.” Only Demon Cyborg seems calm and composed, and there’s a smug smile playing at his lips as if he was waiting for someone else to see. “Now do you understand?”

“And I thought Genus was lying… ” Zombieman purses his lips and digs in his pocket, before pulling out a cigarette and a lighter. He takes a long drag, before spitting out a long trail of smoke. “How have I not heard anything about you other than being Demon Cyborg’s weird sidekick?”

Saitama shrugs slightly, still looking over uneasily at the shellshocked Nezu.“I don’t really care about being famous, I guess. I became a hero for fun, after all.”

“W-we can talk about that later. For now, there are a few last tests we would like to run.” Nezu’s voice comes out as a squeak at first, but he slowly recovers. “First, we would like to have Midnight see if she can do anything to the three of you.”

Midnight again tears off her sleeve and waves the pink cloud over to the three men, who all blink. Zombieman stumbles a little before collapsing, which is to be expected. What is surprising is how Demon Cyborg remains completely unaffected and Saitama just sneezes. “What kinda perfume is this? It smells terrible.”

Midnight’s face crumples, and Aizawa is sure that if it was anyone else, at any other time, she would instantly have taken out that whip of hers. Fortunately or unfortunately, she’s not quite crazy enough to consider attacking the man that just matched All Might’s full power with a single casual attack, no previous set-up required.

Still feels kind of bad, though.

Demon Cyborg squats down and shakes at the pale man’s face. For a second, nothing happens, before Zombieman shifts and groans, rolling over onto his back. “Dammit, what happened?”

“You were hit by some sleep-inducing gas. It appears not to have affected you much, whereas it would have knocked out a normal man for a few hours.”

How does he know that?

“Oh cool. Are there any other tests?” Zombieman staggers to his feet and crosses his arms. Nezu blinks, before glancing over at Aizawa, who nods.

“Well, Aizawa here can nullify Quirks, so we would like to test that out as well. Cementoss, please.”

Cementoss’s next slabs are more standard sized, and each of the four walk up to one of them. Nezu rubs his paws together, before sighing. “Please go one by one.”

First up is Metal Bat, and Aizawa glares at him with all his might. Let’s see how much you can do without your fighting spirit. Go on, take a swing.

The bat comes off the teenager’s shoulder, and he grips it tightly with both hands before taking a step back slightly, winding up his arms to strike.

The resulting crash has Aizawa blinking in disbelief as slowly, the concrete pillar topples to the ground. Metal Bat shakes his hand experimentally, then glances over at the UA teachers with confusion drawing itself all over his face. “The fuck? Nothing happened. You didn’t do shit.”

Okay, that makes sense. It wouldn’t work if he’s already ‘pumped up,’ right? It’s like shooting someone on Trigger and crack at the same time with a tranquilizer; it doesn’t work because he’s too energetic right now.

Demon Cyborg raises his palm towards his slab as Aizawa turns his glare on him, fully expecting him to do the exact same thing as before. If anything, Demon Cyborg is the one person I expect not to be able to do anything to at all. He must be a mutant quirk, and I can’t do much against those.

Sure enough, the blond man melts the concrete with ease, and he turns back to Nezu questioningly. The rat nods, and clears his throat. “Uh, Mr. Zombieman, we were wanting to test your regeneration--”

“Oh yeah, sure, I’ll just…” With a single swift motion, the pale man takes out his gun again, points it at his wrist, and fires. Again, gore splatters everywhere and the man’s hand is almost completely torn off, and Aizawa winces, before remembering he has to keep his eyes open for his Quirk to work. Focus, Shota. You’re not some rookie hero who’s never seen blood before. Focus, and you’re just going to see if the ability works. Relax later.

Then, before his disbelieving eyes, bones begin to form again and veins reconnect themselves with the ball of flesh. By the time Zombieman has flicked on his safety and sheathed his gun again, the wound is completely healed. The pale man shakes his hand at the stunned onlookers, and shrugs.

No. There’s no way.

“And last, Mister Saitama.” Nezu’s voice has dropped to a low monotone, as if he doesn’t believe what’s happening. To be fair, Aizawa doesn’t know either, but he has a job to do, so he turns and glares at the bald man, who cocks his fist back.

At least one person. Tell me I’m good against at least one of the--

The concrete slab explodes in front of his eyes and he’s thrown back again by the shockwave like he was just minutes before, smashing into the floor painfully. As he slowly rises to his feet, he feels something inside him slip away from his body and remain curled on the floor.

How?

Nezu nods, slightly, then sighs and lowers his hands. “If you’ll please follow me, there’s one more thing I would like to do.” The principal’s voice is quiet and resigned, and his ears droop slightly, someone so different from the image of the vibrant, cheerful head of UA.

Unlike some of the other heroes, Aizawa makes no room to follow, but instead turns and staggers in the direction of the sickbay.

I need sleep.

When Izuku opened the door to the cafeteria on All Might’s request, he didn’t expect to see the number one hero in his weaker form, quietly nibbling away at a sandwich. From the chef’s area, Lunch Rush watches with worry.

“Ah, young Midoriya. Please, sit down.”

The lack of energy in the man’s voice is beginning to scare the boy as he quietly takes a seat.

At first, he wondered if All Might saw him in battle and decided he wasn’t strong enough for One For All. After all, why would All Might give him One For All when he could have given it to someone like Metal Bat, who was easily on par with All Might’s full power without it? It had taken a lot of effort and self-delusion for him to arrive at the cafeteria, yet now all those doubts seem tiny; that can’t be what’s making All Might worry, right?

“Wh-what did you want to call me for, Mr. Yagi?”

Yagi sighs, then puts down the sandwich and glances over at Lunch Rush, who quietly withdraws from his spot at one of the windows. “There’s a few things I wanted to say. First, how are your arms doing?”

“I have more control over One For All now, so I didn’t break it.” At the very least, Izuku can say that with pride, and he resists the urge to beam with pride as Yagi gives him a gentle smile. “I think I’m getting a lot better with it.”

“Very good, young Midoriya. I never had a doubt that you’d be able to master One For All.” All Might then goes quiet, and rubs his forehead. “But I do feel guilty, and that’s why I wanted to talk to you now. At this very hour.”

“Guilty? For what, Mr Yagi?” For a moment, Izuku’s heart stops, and he wonders if Yagi’s going to ask for his Quirk back, to give it to someone else. I can’t refuse but… I don’t want to let it go. I’ve worked for it…

“Guilty of not telling you the indirect consequences of having One For All.”

“Huh?”

Yagi slumps slightly and pokes dejectedly at the half-eaten sandwich. “You see, as my successor, you won’t just inherit my abilities and my place as the number one hero, you’ll also inherit my enemies. And they aren’t people you would like to mess with.”

For a second relief floods through Izuku’s body as he realizes that no, One For All won’t be taken back from him. Then surprise, as he thinks about the true meaning behind Yagi’s words.

His enemies?

“You see, the man that gave me this scar is the most terrifying villain this world has ever seen…”

“This is where you’ll be sleeping.”

Saitama glances around the spacious kitchen and the living room in front of them, and resists the urge to whistle when he sees a staircase leading up. This’s a lot bigger than my apartment.

Nezu glances at them warily, before shrugging. “I trust the five of you will be able to figure things out for yourselves. You’re obviously much more capable than the students that we usually give dorms to, anyways.”

“So where are the rooms?” Zombieman glances over at the stairwell and purses his lips, before looking back at the rat. “I’m assuming they’re over there, up the stairs?”

“Exactly. There are also toiletries in the bathrooms, clothes in the rooms and some food ingredients in the fridge.”

“Eh, thanks for the rooms.” With that, Zombieman heads towards the stairs and Nezu nods, before turning around to leave. Saitama watches his retreating figure, before turning to find a room for himself as well.

I guess it’ll be nice to have my own room for the first time in months.

The first empty one he sees is about half as large as his entire apartment back home, and he glances around. Wide, spacious, with a well-made bed and a large closet in the corner. There’s another door, and when he opens it up it leads to a large bathroom, complete with toilet, sink and shower.

It almost reminds him of a hotel.

There’s a large closet in the corner, next to a desk, and he opens it up to find shirts and pants, neatly laid out. There’s no designs on them, and he’s completely fine with that. A lone red-and-white hoodie is hung up on a rack, and for a second, confusion races over Saitama as he turns it over.

But no, it’s plain and without design. There’s no yellow text on the front, nor is there a vaguely offensive design.

He shrugs, then grabs a pair of shorts and a shirt, before shutting his door to change.

“But I wonder if that was all in vain.”

Izuku blinks as Yagi glances over at him with somber eyes. “In vain? You spent years of your life fighting against the strongest villain of all time, Mr. Yagi, how is that in vain?”

“Because of today.”

Oh.

“Today, I fought a villain so powerful it forced me to land almost three hundred full-powered blows, and yet it shrugged them off like nothing. Then Metal Bat appeared and crushed it in a matter of minutes. And on the news, it appears that a new group of villains has appeared from Metal Bat’s world, so powerful that they were able to crush heroes and civilians alike without a care and overtook Tokyo just as quickly, without any effort at all, and someone else has just defeated Stain without a care. Those are things far above anything that All For One could even dream of, and far more dangerous than he.”

Yagi seems to crumble as he speaks, and at some point he’s leaning forward over the table, head resting on his hand. “And just now, I watched what the four could do, and it terrifies me.”

Izuku’s words die in his throat, and he can only watch as his mentor grits his teeth. There’s nothing he can say for the number one hero, nothing that comes to mind.

Come on, say something, say something Izuku!

And yet, nothing exits his opened mouth.

“It makes me wonder if everything I did was foolish. I’ve masqueraded all my life as the strongest man in the world, the one who would solve everyone’s problems, and the only thing that kept the forces of evil from destroying everyone. But now I… I’m not anything special in comparison to these new heroes, these newcomers. I was the Symbol of Peace but… can I afford to still call myself that?” His eyes look up quietly and meet Izuku’s.

The green-haired boy shivers silently at the lack of passion and energy in his mentor’s eyes, the optimism that had always been there before.

“I… I don’t think you need to be the strongest to be the Symbol of Peace.” His voice is quiet, and he stares down at the table, trying to remember what to say next. “Even already, Endeavor does more work than you, but you’re the Symbol of Peace and not him, Mr. Yagi.”

Yagi raises his head, watching silently, before smiling weakly and lowering his head. “Thank you, Young Midoriya. Now, I believe you should return home? It’s getting quite late right now.”

Izuku can only nod quietly, before standing up and leaving.

He hates himself for not being able to do more.

Years ago, Homeless Emperor was given a gift from God, one that gave him extraordinary power, in exchange for the destruction of humanity. It was a no-brainer; he took it without a second doubt. Humanity has long been rotten and in need of pruning.

Even in this new and unfamiliar world, his goals remain the exact same.

The ruins of the massive city that surround him is the clear image of carnage he had always dreamed of. He knows there must be much more to this world, but for now, this is enough for him.

The sky is dark and night has fallen, so he doesn’t see the shadow of the figure that creeps up from behind him.

Something crunches under the figure’s foot, and Homeless Emperor whirls around, ready to fire off an energy beam at any second, before pausing.

His eyes widen.

“Excuse me, do you know where this is?”

It’s impossible to mistake the man in front of him for anyone else.

“I think I may have gotten lost, because I have no idea where I am. Do you know where all the people are?”

The curled blond hair. The large, bulky frame. The piercing blue eyes.

The three scars that line his left eye.

This is…!

“Oh, do you not know either? I’m sorry. Well, I’ll be on my way then.” The blond man purses his lips, then begins to walk, before turning back around. “It’s dark outside, there might be monsters. You should watch where you go. It could be dangerous.”

And with that, the most powerful man on earth leaves, without doing a single bit of damage to the wide-eyed Dragon-level monster.

What just happened?

Why did he spare me? Why didn’t he try to fight me? Someone that powerful must know who I am, right?

Wait. His words didn’t imply any sense of wanting to fight me at all. Does that mean… he might not have known I’m a mysterious being?

No, that can’t be. His last words… they were a warning! Thinly veiled under the pretense of wishing me safety…

“It’s dark outside, no one will see you or care if I kill you and move on. Don’t piss me off because the result will be your death.” That must have been his true meaning!

Does he not see me as a threat at all?!

I wonder what a homeless dude was doing walking around in the middle of the night… Doesn’t he know it’s dangerous

King sighs, then glances over at the wreckage, which is slowly starting to thin out and disappear. Well, I could say that for myself. Saitama isn’t around to save me, but at least it looks like I’m getting closer to society.

In the distance, he can see a small light and hear the voices of people, and a smile almost breaks out across his face. I’m close.

There’s a line of police tape blocking off the road he’s walking on, and several people there. Some are crying, some are comforting, and the rest are police and military, armed to the teeth.

King knows how it must look: a man, completely untouched, walking out of what he thinks is a warzone. He knows that when they see him, they must think him suspicious. But it’s worth a try.

One of the soldiers glances over, then freezes when he sees the blond man. He barks something, and the rest of the soldiers begin to run over. King’s heart begins to sink.

Just as he considers dropping to the ground and begging for mercy, the man that appears to be the leader begins to speak. “Sir, are you okay? Were you injured?”

“Uhm, no, fortunately not.”

“Thank goodness. The hospitals are full right now and can’t admit anyone else. Let me explain what is going on here.” The soldier sighs, then raises his arm and points backwards. “We have been evacuating civilians one by one, trying not to catch the attention of the villains at the center square, and there’s an area over there, where other evacuees such as yourself are. Please go over there.”

King nods, a bit surprised, before sighing. “Thank you.”

As he clambers over the tape and bows to the soldiers in thanks, one of them digs in their pocket, before holding out a small card. In surprise, he takes it from the man and looks up at the soldier.

“The government has issued a decree that anyone with one of these cards is to have free shelter and food in the city. Please feel free to show it to a restaurant or hotel owner, and they will provide a room for you.”

“Thank you.”

And with that, King begins to stride down the street, at the end of which more lights begin to shimmer and welcoming voices begin to speak.

Now this seems more like a city, and he sees many people talking and laughing amongst themselves, with stores lit bright and welcoming. Many of the bars are full, with people having drinks and late dinners as they discuss the events of the day.

A head of silver hair catches his eye, and he glances over at a solitary figure, slightly hunched, lithe but heavily muscled, in a black martial arts shirt that sticks tightly to his frame, quietly slurping up ramen.

King knows that man.

When the ramen appears to be finished, the man stands up, moving with a smooth energy that seems like it should be impossible for humans to have. He holds out a card to a cashier, who nods and scans it, before bowing and exiting the door.

King knows that face, that bushy white mustache and those calculating, piercing eyes.

Silverfang crosses his hands behind his back as the door swings shut behind him, before glancing over and spotting King. His white eyebrows rise, and a small smile spreads across his face as the two S Class heroes stare at each other in surprise.

“Ah, you too, King-san?”

Even though I am the most powerful villain the world has ever seen, even though I am All For One, I haven't a clue of what has transpired today.

In front of the masked man, a television screen shifts and wavers slightly as it shows the form of his greatest experiment curled up on a stool, showing something that All For One thought he would never see in the boy: the cold, painful acknowledgement of defeat. Kurogiri’s tall and slender form, usually a sight he’d never miss, is gone. Instead, the teleporter lies on the sofa, heavily bandaged; the only thing that says he’s alive is the quiet rising and falling of his chest.

He sighs, before flicking a button. The TV flickers off, and he glances over to a computer, where the daily headlines are plastered all over the screen.

Tokyo destroyed by mysterious villains, Japan in ruins.

Even though the very goal he has sought for so long is coming to life in front of him, it’s not by his hands or his orders. And that fact both infuriates and terrifies him.

Who are these people? Who is the man that defeated my strongest Nomu, and who are the people that destroyed Tokyo without a second thought?

What could have caused this to happen?

In the end, that request was useless.

The monster that requested for the S Class and the Cadres to be gone is long dead and his comrades all slaughtered. The remaining S Class have collected their hostage and found the other boy wandering in the base of the monsters. It is with ease that they disposed of that meat puppet and captured that insane, crazed woman.

Even though I am God, I simply do not have the power required to teleport not only ten or so normal entities, but over eleven trillion of those cloning monsters as well, all to a different universe.

I miscalculated. I sent all the cadres and only a handful of the heroes. Now, humanity may have lost a few of their greatest saviors, but they have also lost their greatest problems.

There is nothing I can do but make new puppets in order to stop them from destroying the world at large.

I do not know where I have sent them to. I do not think they can or will reappear.

Even I do not know anything, and I am scared of what is to come.

Because I do not know what is to come next.

Chapter Text

Ochako Uraraka has gotten used to living by herself, to the point where she usually has the time to look out the window with a cup of coffee in her hand after eating and washing up. Something that would have been unthinkable back home, where she treasured each and every extra minute she could get, but she supposes now that she’s at UA, it’s about time for her to grow up.

Her apartment is small and cozy, and every day she can look out the small veranda that overlooks the city. She’s only on the third floor so it’s not like everyone looks like ants, but it’s still enough to peek over the roofs of other nearby, smaller buildings.

There’s a park she can just barely see from her veranda, and she usually sees a few people jogging or walking their dogs on one of the paths. She’s even gotten to recognize some of them; Red Sweater Lady, Poodle Guy, and Black Jacket Granny are some of her favorites.

After setting her alarm for five minutes and grabbing a cup of coffee, she draws back the curtains and steps outside, fully expecting to see Poodle Guy trip over his tiny, ferocious dog for the fifth week in a row.

There’s no one there, and she blinks, checking the time. That’s weird… there’s usually five or six people by now. Maybe something happened and everyone’s staying home? Was there a villain attack or--

Oh right, stuff happened yesterday.

She sighs, then goes to draw back her curtain, before a motion in the distance makes her pause and look back.

The air on the path blurs for a second, before settling back to normal. The trees surrounding the path, on the other hand, doesn’t stay still at all. The piles of leaves scraped neatly together on the ground burst forward as if something passed by with incredible speed, and the trees flail for a moment as if being buffeted by an enormous burst of wind.

A superspeed Quirk?

The sunlight glints off of something below, and she glances down to be met with a bald head. A strangely familiar one, in fact, one she can’t place for a bit. And when she does, she stifles a gasp and leans over to see what the man below her is doing.

Saitama pokes at a phone, tapping at something on the screen, before nodding and slipping it back in his pocket. “Ten kilometers, good enough. Now I gotta get back… ”

The bald man is dressed in comfortable black shorts and a designless white tee, instead of the ridiculous yellow superhero outfit he had on yesterday, and that’s what kept Ochako from realizing who he was for so long. Down there, he looks so plain, and fits in with the town so well that if she was anyone else, she wouldn’t have given him a second glance. Even if he was where he is now, alone in the middle of a deserted street, far from the clutches of rush hour.

He turns back around, and without even getting into a crouch or tensing up the slightest, disappears. Another blur flashes before her eyes, and the few flags that are hung up on apartment tops rustle to mark his disappearance.

The alarm rings on the table behind her, and Ochako jumps, before sighing. She downs the rest of the coffee in a single gulp, places the cup on the table, then grabs her bag and runs for the door.

I’m going to UA anyways, I can find out more about it when I get there.

When she walks through the door, Ochako can’t help but notice that the room is much emptier than usual. About a third of the class is gone, and the ones that are still there shift and look around quietly. Conversation still lives in the room, but it doesn’t thrive like it would have before, instead glancing around and wondering where people are.

“Hi Iida! Hi Deku!” She tries to put on a cheery front, but Deku just glances up quietly before looking back down at the notebook on his desk. There’s none of the stuttering he normally does. Iida looks at him worriedly before turning back to her and smiling as he usually does.

“Good morning, Uraraka-san!”

The two then turn back to their friend, exchanging worried looks, before they look over to see what he’s doing.

It’s one of his hero notebooks, she can tell that much immediately. The pages are littered with notes and doodles, mainly of the hero in question posing and smiling broadly at the camera.

It takes her half a second to realize it’s All Might.

“Deku, are you… worried about All Might?” The thought crosses her mind and leaves her mouth faster than she can stop it, and she almost tries to take it back, to pretend she never said it. After all, this is the number one hero; why would he be worried?

Then she remembers what happened yesterday.

“A… a little bit.” His voice quivers slightly, and he looks up at both Uraraka and Iida, as if trying to decide something. “I… I saw him yesterday when I got out of the sickbay and… he didn’t really look that good.”

“I have full faith All Might will make a complete recovery, Midoriya.” Iida’s voice is subdued as if he himself doesn’t believe it either, and the shaky smile he tries to put up only emphasizes that. “He is the number one for a reason, after all.”

“No, I don’t mean he looked like he’d been hurt a lot. I mean he looked really depressed.”

That one sentence snaps the conversation in half like a knife, and Ochako doesn’t know how she’d be able to piece it together. Neither, it seems, does Iida.

The only image she has of All Might is of a wide, friendly smile, and she can’t imagine that being gone at all.

The bell rings and the three of them jump, before she and Iida scramble back to their respective seats as fast as possible. She manages to slip into her seat just a heartbeat before Mr. Aizawa strides through the front door, earning gasps and various cries from across the room.

“Aizawa-sensei, are you okay?”

He glares at them angrily, before waving. “I’m fine. These bandages are just to make sure I don’t start bleeding to death in the middle of class.”

Ochako can’t help but think he looks exactly like a mummy, with his cold eyes staring out at the rest of the class.

“As you’ve probably noticed, a lot of people are missing. That’s because, well, Todoroki called in sick and the rest of them dropped out of the hero course from their parents’ wishes, after… what happened in Tokyo yesterday.”

Oh.

Now that she takes another look around the room and thinks, it does make sense. When I called Mom and Dad yesterday they were almost ready to force me to go back home, and I barely managed to convince them not to. And that was because I didn’t tell them about USJ at all.

If they listened to me any less, they would have made me go back.

“Even All Might won’t be coming in today.”

That last one makes everyone’s jaws drop, and distantly, Ochako thinks about her conversation with Deku and Iida just minutes ago.

Is it really that bad?

“He’s not particularly badly injured, but he was saying he wants to help out with rebuilding the USJ, since it’s necessary for future events.” Mr. Aizawa sighs, and mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like ‘stupid blond man overworking himself.’ “In any case, the school felt like it needed more people to keep an eye on you lot in particular, especially since the villains targeted you and not a different class, so today, we’ll be getting… TA’s.”

He glances over to the door, and nods. “Come in.”

“The fuck you made us wait out there for? Made us wait for too long.” Gasps rise as Metal Bat squeezes through the doorway, bat and all, with a hand behind him holding Zenko’s. Behind him, Zombieman and Demon Cyborg stride forward without giving a look to the side, while Saitama glances around at the classroom. He’s dressed in the exact same outfit Ochako saw that morning, and dimly, she begins to wonder if what she saw that morning wasn’t a hallucination.

“Perhaps.” Aizawa has a nasty smirk on his face as he speaks to the delinquent, who just scoffs, before he turns back to the students. “They’ll be rotating around and going to different classes every week, so use them when you can.”

“Oh, you’re damn right I will.” Mina’s whispered attempt at humor doesn’t go unnoticed as Demon Cyborg turns to glare at her. Is it just me or is the room getting hot?

“In any case, they’ll be watching today and giving you pointers if you need it. Now, since there’s a lot of empty spots, I’ve decided to look at promising candidates from the general course and put them in the class in place of the missing people.” The room cools down again as Ochako registers her teacher’s words. “Normally, we’d use the Sports Festival for that, but since, eh, things happened yesterday, it’s been pushed back until after finals this year.”

What?

She almost waits for the cries of protest, but no one says anything, and to be honest she’s fine with that. I’m not sure I’d be able to focus on the Festival if something like that was happening in Tokyo. This is actually good for me.

Not to mention, I didn’t really do anything against the villains…

Am I really strong enough to fight against people like Bakugo or Todoroki?

She grits her teeth and leans down to rest her head on her desk. I’m going to get stronger by the time the Sports Festival happens.

“Since All Might’s not here today, you won’t have any Heroics classes. Instead, we’ll take the time to put in more practice with combat practice, and these four will see what you’re doing at that point.” Mr. Aizawa’s words make her jerk her head up, and she puffs up her mouth, before smiling slightly.

Well, good. That’s what I wanted. Maybe I can ask the four of them for tips?

“Hey, what do we do now? You never told us anything about this.” Saitama crosses his arms and glances over at the bandaged man with eyebrows raised. “We don’t do anything until later, right?”

“Since you’re basically teachers and don’t have anything to do until later, you have time to do anything you want until I need you. See you in four hours.”

“Oh. Cool.” With that, Saitama turns around and walks out the door, hands in his pockets. Demon Cyborg turns around and marches out not far behind. Zombieman shrugs then goes to follow, while Metal Bat stares blankly at Aizawa for a second, before Zenko tugs at his hand, leading him away from the classroom.

As the door closes, Mr Aizawa sighs, then turns back to the students. “Okay, everyone, turn to page 182 in the textbook… ”

I have never loved my father.

Those are five words no child should have to say, but reality is harsh. My father has always been a tyrant and a cruel master, not the gentle, loving soul he should have been and that my mother was before he drove her insane.

The outside world knows him as Endeavor, the hero second only to All Might. They admire how he tries harder, how he takes on more cases than even All Might, how he has an insatiable thirst for justice. But no matter how hard he tries, he will never be the man All Might is.

He knows this too painfully well, and so he decided to create the perfect hero. Someone who would carry on his legacy and be the person he never could.

I don’t know why he wanted me to be All Might. Why can’t he just let All Might be All Might and no one else?

I hate my father. I have wished many times that he was dead, or that he never met my mother. I have cursed him for what he did to my older brothers and sister, for what he did to my mother.

And yet I find myself sitting in front of his hospital bed, relief flooding in me every time his chest rises and lowers. I find myself wondering if I should call my sister and surviving brother, ask them if they want to see him too. I find myself missing class just to watch this old man live another day.

Deep inside, I know I’m just a child. A scared child, both of whose parents are bedridden and not quite right enough to take care of me. So it makes sense that I would want to see that both of them are alive and well.

But I’m not just a child. I am the son of Endeavor, the only subject of a cruel tyrant. I shouldn’t feel pain and remorse for the man who tortured me each and every day.

I shouldn’t, but I do.

“Hey Genos, I’ve been thinking.”

“Yes, sensei?” Genos turns to look at Saitama-sensei with surprise as the bald man frowns. “What were you thinking?”

“The doctor’s not here, so there’s no way for you to get repaired, right?”

The cyborg blinks, then glances down at his hands. “... I don’t think you are wrong, sensei.”

“You gotta be more careful for yourself then. You can’t go around getting broken every other day now.” Saitama sensei’s words hit Genos like a truck, and he blinks rapidly as he listens. In no way is the bald man wrong, nor is it something Genos doesn’t know, but he didn’t expect that at all. It’s true that he’s far too reckless and willing to sacrifice himself at a moment’s notice, but due to Kuseno’s ability to find and fix him at a moment’s notice, he’s never thought of it much.

“Yes, sensei! Thank you for this knowledge!” He takes a small notebook out from his back pants pocket and begins scribbling down notes as fast as possible. Saitama sensei sighs vaguely, but Genos doesn’t notice; he’s too focused on writing.

“It sucks to be half dead and not able to heal it back.” Zombieman crosses his arms, and looks up at the ceiling. Genos doesn’t look up to check, but he’s almost sure there’s a smirk on the man’s face.

“It really does.” Metal Bat scowls slightly, before turning back to Zenko. “If you break a bone, you have to wait months for it to heal back.”

The five of them are sitting down in the cafeteria, with nowhere else to really go. Genos scanned a copy of the campus map the day before, but all the other places he deemed noteworthy are overrun with students at this time of day. With several hours left to burn, Genos can’t help but be… bored.

It’s a strange feeling.

There are plates of food in front of them, hamburgers with sides of fries, and Genos glances over at Saitama-sensei, who fortunately seems too engaged with his burger to bring up bad memories. It’s also fortunate that all fries on Saitama-sensei’s plate are long and crispy, instead of short and soggy.

Genos pretends that was something that never happened and pokes halfheartedly at his own plate of fries.

Metal Bat finishes off a fry and licks at his fingers. “Damn, the food here’s pretty good. Not like I haven’t eaten better, but it just feels good.”

“Yeah, all the fries are made correctly.” Saitama-sensei crunches another bite out of his own burger, then glances over at Genos. “You haven’t been eating anything, you good?”

“Sensei, would you recommend that I learn how to fix myself? I have a rudimentary knowledge of my own workings, but I think I could learn quickly if I teamed up with, say, technological experts here. Would you think it would be worth the effort for me to go through the trouble?”

“I mean, no one here knows exactly what the good doctor does, so I think you should probably start with not getting wrecked every fight first.” Saitama-sensei starts with the fries, and smiles as he eats. “Just how I like it.”

“You gotta remember you’re not immortal.” Metal Bat shrugs as he pushes the rest of his fries over to his little sister, who pounces on them gladly. “It seems like it should be really obvious, but it’s too easy to get caught up in a fight. It doesn’t feel like it, but sometimes you start hitting harder and harder until you think you’re a fucking god, and then someone bitch-slaps you back into reality. That’s the worst.”

Metal Bat would certainly have a lot of experience with this. I think it’s a good idea to listen to what he has to say as well.

Genos nods quietly, then picks up his burger and takes a bite. His fellow heroes are right, the food does taste very good. It’s just enough to take his mind off of the issue at hand for a few seconds.

“I suppose it is more so because I usually turn off my pain receptors once I am in battle. It does not slow me down or harm me, in exchange for giving no indication of how close I am to being broken. Maybe if I kept them on, I would be more careful about myself.”

“Sounds like a good idea. It feels… refreshing to get hurt once in a while, I guess.” Saitama-sensei finishes off the last of his fries, then glances down at his tray. “I wonder if I can get seconds.”

“Yo, can I get some?” Zenko pushes her empty tray over to Saitama-sensei as her brother calls over to him, and the bald man shrugs, before grabbing their tray as well and walking over to the food area. “Thanks, dude.”

“Metal Bat, how do you make sure you stay safe?” At his words, the delinquent blinks, and Genos continues. “You must have some method to keep yourself from going overboard, since you have recovered from all your battles fairly quickly.”

“I… just get lucky?” Metal Bat shrugs, and glances at his bat, as if to make sure it hasn’t gone anywhere in the last five seconds since he last checked. “The more I get pumped up, the less I think, so I don’t really try to protect myself, I just try to bash in the nearest fucker’s face.”

“Demon Cyborg, if you were going to ask anyone, why would you specifically ask us?” Genos blinks at Zombieman’s statement, taking it in slowly. “The three of us are the S Class who depend on getting back up after being beaten down, not avoiding being knocked down in the first place. And from the looks of it, your Saitama-sensei doesn’t seem to know what dodging is, either. You’re better off going to one of the heroes in this world with that question.”

He is right. Zombieman’s entire gimmick is that he can regenerate from any attack, while Metal Bat’s ability is to grow stronger from taking hits; neither of them are particularly well-versed in the art of truly surviving. And as for Saitama-sensei, I cannot think of a situation in which he would be forced to dodge an attack. Besides, Saitama-sensei is inhumanely fast, far more so than I could ever dream of. Even if he gave me advice, it is doubtful I would be able use it effectively.

Saitama-sensei returns with the second servings and hands a tray over to Zenko, who takes it happily and gives Saitama-sensei a wide smile. “Thank you!”

The bald man shrugs, a tiny grin on his face, before taking his seat and picking up his burger. There are still twenty minutes left before lunch starts for the teachers and students, and Genos supposes he can finish his meal by then.

He sighs, then picks up a fry. If I am to eat, then I may as well make the most of it.

Ochako glances around the open field much like her other classmates are doing, and looks back at Aizawa-sensei, who stands tiredly like the mummy he resembles. What are we doing here, today? I don’t see any equipment or any obstacles or anything… And yet we’re in our costumes?

On bleachers not far away, the four heroes and Zenko are sitting down. Mr. Saitama’s eating out of a bag of chips, while Metal Bat seems to be entertaining Zenko; it’s certainly the happiest she’s seen him. Demon Cyborg and Mr. Zombieman, on the other hand, watch the class intently.

She shivers slightly as two cold gazes scan across her, and she turns back to Aizawa-sensei.

“Today, you’ll each just separately be showing off what you can do with your Quirks. Those four over there’ll be watching and giving you tips if they feel it necessary.” Aizawa brings his hand up to his mouth, as if thinking, before nodding and pointing. “Spread out about ten meters away from everyone else, then just use your Quirk to its full power. Remember not to hurt anyone, though.”

Ochako finds herself standing in between Deku and Bakugo, and glances at both of them. The fact that neither of them seem to have any idea what to do comforts her a little, and a memory of when she was young comes to her mind. I could do that, I guess.

She kicks at the ground with the tip of her shoe, toeing the dirt gently. A few pebbles clatter off of the dirt, and she leans over to pick them up. Once she lets go, the stones begin to rise, slowly but surely aiming for the sky. Eventually, they disappear from sight, but by then she’s found more rocks.

It’s comforting, and a smile creeps onto her face as she remembers the times she went to the park with her parents and did exactly this. It’s been, what, nine or ten years? I only did this when I first got my Quirk…

She gives a glance over to Deku and almost starts laughing. He’s just standing there and staring intently at the ground, looking for the world like an idiot, but she knows that means he’s thinking. Ochako doesn’t blame him; his Quirk is best used to punch things, and there’s nothing for him to hit.

“DIE!” She winces and covers her ears as, on her other side, Bakugo finally figures out what he wants to do and begins blowing up the dirt under him. It would have been barely tolerable if it was just the dirt flying everywhere, but no, he has to shout with every attack as well.

She takes a look around at her other classmates. Most of them are looking distastefully at Bakugo’s outbursts, and some shoot her sympathetic looks. It looks like many of them are making good progress, though she’s not sure whether to be concerned or amused by Iida running around in circles. Not to mention, Kirishima is looking around confusedly, down at his gut then at his fist. She winces slightly as he punches himself in the face cheerfully, before turning in a full circle and grinning widely to show that he’s okay.

Ochako takes a deep breath, then claps her cheeks and glares down at the ground. I gotta do more stuff, they’re making me look bad because I’m not doing enough!

On a whim, she glances over at the four onlookers, now joined by Aizawa-sensei. Metal Bat and Mr. Saitama are still doing their own thing, while Mr. Zombieman reclines quietly and watches the students. Demon Cyborg and Aizawa-sensei are having a whispered conversation, and the cyborg points out several students. 1-A’s teacher says something and gestures over to the students, and the cyborg nods, before standing up. He looks over to Mr. Saitama and says something, to which the bald man waves listlessly as he quietly munches on some potato chips.

The students all stop what they’re doing and glance over as the cyborg steps down from the bleachers and begins walking towards them. He waves at them, as if to say not to worry about him, and everyone turns back to what they were doing before.

Ochako feels herself beginning to sweat slightly as she looks down at the rocks on the ground, which seem so small and pathetic all of a sudden.

From the looks of it, the cyborg is going around and giving feedback of some sort. He says a couple words to Yaomomo, who nods and grimaces for a second, before pulling a thin rectangle of some kind from her arm. Ochako vaguely recognizes it as a notebook computer before Demon Cyborg opens it up, types away on a few of the keys, and nods, speaking a couple more words before turning around and continuing onwards.

Kirishima looks down at his hands, then back up at the approaching man with a nervous smile. The cyborg says something, and Kirishima nods, flashing his signature smile as he puffs up his chest, skin slowly hardening. Demon Cyborg takes a step back and clenches his fist, before an ugly crack echoes on impact. Kirishima is thrown onto his back and skids a good two meters before he manages to stop himself and stumble to his feet. Meanwhile, the blond man looks down at his fist and flexes his fingers experimentally. It doesn’t seem to have hurt him at all, because he just shrugs and looks back at his student.

The redhead seems disheartened, but Demon Cyborg shakes his head at presumably self-deprecating words, and says something that makes the boy brighten up instantly.

It must be a trick of the light, but Ochako thinks she can see grateful tears about to fall from her classmate’s eyes.

“Uraraka. Pay attention to what you’re supposed to be doing, not what other people do.” At Aizawa-sensei’s remark, Ochako whirls around and glances around at her surroundings, panic ripping through her mind. Again, she slaps her cheeks, before sighing and picking up rocks again.

One, two. One, two. One by one, she begins to maintain a slow, calming rhythm, and again the smile begins to creep onto her face. As she releases the rocks, she looks up and watches them float quietly into the air, eventually disappearing out of sight. She knows it’s dangerous and she has to wait for them to be far enough that they completely disintegrate when she brings them back down, but it’s quiet and soothing.

I like this.

“And you are… Izuku Midoriya… ah, the one who breaks his arm a lot?”

“Erk… ah… yes, sir!”

“You don’t have to call me sir.” Ochako is jerked out of her reverie when Demon Cyborg’s voice echoes so close to her, and she glances over to see him standing in front of Deku with his arms crossed. The poor greenette looks like he might pass out from a single insult, and his shoulders are so tensed up they almost touch his jaw. “I am only nineteen myself, after all, not much older than any of you. It would feel strange to be called such a term by a boy old enough to be my younger brother.”

He’s only nineteen?!

Next to her, Ochako can vaguely hear Bakugo spit out the words “Bullshit” under his breath, and she doesn’t miss the glare the cyborg shoots at him, before turning back to Deku. “I see it would be quite difficult to use your… ah, what was the term… Quirk… in this situation. Hm… ”

The cyborg tilts his head as if he’s thinking, before he shrugs and points down at the ground. “Do a weaker punch at the ground that will not hurt yourself.”

Obediently, the greenette draws his arm back and glares at the ground, before throwing his fist forward. “SMASH!”

There’s a small explosion at his feet, and when the dust clears, Ochako can see a sizable dent in the ground about half an inch deep, just about enough for her to fit her foot in. Deku seems quite pleased with himself, and she can’t blame him; it’s not exactly an unimpressive feat.

“I see.” On the other hand, Demon Cyborg looks a little disappointed as he uncrosses his arms, and if he’s from a world where Metal Bat is nowhere near the strongest, Ochako isn’t surprised. “There isn’t quite as much power behind your punch as I was expecting, but you are still quite powerful for someone of your stature.”

“Th-thank you very much!”

“I am not quite sure what advice to give you other than obvious statements, such as practicing to increase your durability and stamina as well as the power of which you can punch. Your fighting style is much more similar to that of Saitama-sensei, so I believe you would be better off talking to him instead.” With that, Demon Cyborg turns to go, before pausing and turning back around. “Ah, actually, there are a few pointers I can give you. They may not be much, but they are all I have.”

“Really? What are they?” Ochako can almost see the hero worship shining in her classmate’s eyes, and she’s almost sure that he’s going to write down everything in his hero notebook afterwards.

“To begin, that is not how you throw a punch efficiently. Do not lead with your elbow, as that will lose you much of your power and momentum from swinging your arm around.” Deku nods, and Ochako can almost see the cogs turning furiously in his brain as he tries to remember each and every word. “Instead, simply straighten your arm forward, without any twists or turns. Try it now, as I show you.”

Demon Cyborg draws his hand back to his waist, before shooting it forward in the air. Ochako blinks at the speed of which he moves, and Deku yelps as the punch stops an inch from his face. “I shall do it again slowly.” Again, the cyborg’s hand goes back to his waist, and slowly, he straightens out his arm. There really isn’t anything to it; he merely twists his wrist so his punch is facing the right way, and his arm really does go straight forward.

Deku gives a soft gasp, before his hand goes to his own waist and he tries to emulate it. Demon Cyborg nods as the boy slowly pushes his hand forward, elbow exactly where it should be, and smiles faintly. “Very good. I would like to add one more thing. Please refrain from shouting before an attack.”

Deku’s face crumples and his eyes ask “why?” as he stares despondently at the cyborg, who sighs. “A cry like that has some uses sometimes, such as to shock the enemy. However, it is usually a waste of air and will merely alert your opponent that you are going to throw a blow, which they will then be able to counter more easily. While it may look cool, it does not work out in practice. If you truly want to scream something during a fight, keep up a continuous warcry instead.”

“Thank you.” Deku’s voice is quiet and he looks down at his feet thoughtfully. Demon Cyborg nods, then glances over at Ochako as he moves towards her.

“What would your Quirk be?”

“O-oh.” Ochako blinks, before looking down at her feet, then picking up a rock. “I can make things float.” She touches her pinky to the pebble, and it begins to float as she lets go of it. Clapping her hands together returns gravity to the rock, and she smiles a little bit in satisfaction.

The cyborg nods slightly, before holding out his hand. “I would like to see if you can make me float in a similar fashion.”

“E-eh?” Ochako blinks and glances down at his hand. I’m sure that I can do that, but out of nowhere… it’s so sudden! I didn’t expect that! I mean, I can definitely do it…

“I mean no harm and would merely like to see.” She blinks at the words from the cyborg and realizes she’s been staring at his outstretched hand for the past few minutes. Nodding furiously, she wraps all five of her fingers around his metallic ones, before letting go.

The cyborg begins to float slightly, and he nods as he rises slowly. At that, Ochako touches her hands together, and he drops down to the ground silently. “It would appear to be quite the useful Quirk, but I assume there is a limit on how many things you can make float?”

“I’m not too familiar with making people float.” She scratches at the back of her head slightly and grins a little abashedly. “I have a max float weight of two tons, though.”

“I believe you should work on making living things float, instead of inanimate objects. It would be very simple to render one useless if you were to force them to float in the air.”

She blinks, before looking up at the cyborg. “Wait…I can do that, but I’ve purposefully trained myself to avoid doing that to people.”

“Then in that case, it should be a simple matter of reteaching yourself how to do it.”

She purses her lips, glancing up at the sky, before turning back to the cyborg. “Yeah, I think I can do that. Thank you.”

He nods, before turning to the side and beginning to walk towards his last target. “Now, then, you were the… explosive one? I’ve heard… a lot about you from Mr. Aizawa.”

“That’s right, you better fucking have.” Ochako’s blood goes cold at Bakugo’s sneering remark, and she can see Demon Cyborg frown as he straightens his back to his full height in order to glare down at the boy. Bakugo doesn’t back down, but she can see a small quiver in his lip as he tries to keep up a cocky smirk.

What is he doing?!

“Your attitude, at the very least, fits his description. Your power… explosions, was it?” The cyborg sighs a little bit and his shoulders forcibly go down as if he’s trying to calm himself. His fingers clench and unclench, and he blinks multiple times, mouth set in a firm line. “Please demonstrate.”

“The fuck you going to do if I say no? I don’t need help, unlike these fucking extras, especially not from you. I have nothing to learn from someone only four fucking years older than I am.” Ochako glances around the field frantically, looking for anyone to stop Bakugo from digging his own grave. Everyone else seems to be doing similarly, and she can see several horrified gazes locking onto the man and the boy next to her.

“Extras?” Demon Cyborg’s voice is low and cold, and the cyborg tilts his head as he glares down at the boy. “Are you referring to the rest of your class, all of whom have, by all accounts, survived an attack by multiple Wolf and Tiger level threats as well as a Demon level threat?”

“I don’t know what the fuck you just said, but yeah, fuck them. Bunch of shitty extras in my way. They’re only there so I can use them as stepping stones.” For some reason, his words don’t ring true with Ochako, and when she thinks about it, it makes sense. Bakugo has always been arrogant, but he’s also always been a reasonable person who listens to authority. Normally, he would just be listening and taking in the feedback. But with what happened just yesterday…

He must feel like he’s becoming irrelevant, and wants to prove that he isn’t.

But this isn’t showing he’s strong, just that he’s suicidal!

“You will never get anywhere without help.” Demon Cyborg’s fists are clenched and his teeth gritted as he forces words out of his mouth. “Take it from someone who would have died years ago without anyone to support me.”

“That just means you’re a fucking extra. I don’t have anything to learn from someone who can’t even survive on his own. Survival of the fittest, motherfucker, ever heard of it?” When Ochako looks over to the bleachers, Aizawa-sensei makes no move to break it up, but instead watches with interest, while Mr Zombieman’s eyes are slitted as he leans forward onto his knees. Metal Bat’s teeth are gritted and it looks like the only thing stopping him from going over to bash in Bakugo’s head is Zenko, who has her hands wrapped tightly around his arm. Mr. Saitama’s face isn’t wearing the same bland, bored expression it always is, but instead has a disgusted, angry glare in his eyes.

“I assure you, you will regret calling others ‘extras.’ Those ‘extras’ will be the ones to save your life and keep you from killing yourself.” The air suddenly feels a lot warmer than before, and Ochako blinks to make sure she isn’t seeing things.

No, smoke is still beginning to rise off of the cyborg’s arms.

“Yeah? Then I don’t know what the fuck I can learn from you. What kind of shit can you do to teach me and my Explosion Quirk? I’ll tell you. You can’t teach me dogshit, and I’d like to see you try--”

Demon Cyborg shoots his hand up, palm facing upwards, still glaring at Bakugo, who flinches backwards. His fingers begin to twist, before folding in on themselves and whirling to shift into a more square, wider shape. Contraptions whirr out from the side of his fist, and point upwards as well, and Ochako barely manages to recognize it as a sort of missile launcher or flamethrower in her shock.

“Incinerate.”

A massive column of flame bursts out from what was once the cyborg’s hand, and Ochako falls to the ground with a yelp, trying to scuttle away from the overpowering heat that suddenly dominates the atmosphere. It stretches up as far as her eye can see, and vaguely, she thinks her bed at her apartment would fit in the beam of fire with ease; hell, it could probably fit three times and still have space to move. The flames glow a brilliant white, almost like pure light, and she can swear she sees a rainbow of color dancing around it.

It’s far above anything she’s seen, not just from Endeavor, but from anyone. She doubts even All Might would be able to do something as impressive as that, as she slowly scoots backwards, bumping into a likewise stunned Deku. Vaguely, she can see the grass around the cyborg begin to wilt and die.

Demon Cyborg lets it go on for a few more seconds before the heat fades instantly, and his arm morphs back into a more human shape. He glares disdainfully at Bakugo, who’s on his back and trembling, before turning away. “I came to help, but now I suppose I shall just watch you fail instead.”

He turns around and begins to walk towards the bleachers, and Ochako chances a glance over at the four men that sit there. Metal Bat has a satisfied smirk on his face as he shoots Demon Cyborg a thumbs up, while Mr. Zombieman looks much more relaxed. On the other hand, Mr. Saitama still looks angered but hides it behind his usual bland exterior, while Aizawa-sensei seems absolutely terrified, and even a bit sympathetic for Bakugo.

She can’t blame him.

Deku stirs next to her, and she dimly registers that the two of them are sitting next to each other, still staring at the cyborg’s retreating back. A whisper falls out of his mouth, and she can’t help but crane her neck to listen. “So cool…”

That’s also true.

She staggers to her feet slowly, then offers a hand to Deku, who stares at it blankly before registering and stuttering slightly as he takes it. “Deku, are you going to write that in your hero notebook?”

“O-oh! That’s a good idea, actually! I wonder if I can ask them what their Quirks are and how they fight and… ” She mentally tunes his voice out and begins to smile and nod automatically as her own thoughts begin to race through her mind. One thought in particular grabs at her attention and refuses to let go.

Can one of them teach me how to be strong?

“Alright, we’re out of time. Class is over, go home.” Aizawa-sensei’s voice cuts through the quiet chatter that began to rise once Demon Cyborg finished, and there’s a small disappointed “aw…” that runs through the class. As everyone begins to filter away, Iida strides over to the two of them and raises his hand. “Uraraka-san, Midoriya-san! What were you told by the Demon Cyborg?”

Deku wordlessly slips a notebook and a pencil out of his costume and races over to the five spectators, who are also beginning to leave. Caught off guard, Ochako blinks for a second, before following, with Iida close on her tail. “Wait, wait, can I please ask you some questions?”

Metal Bat shrugs as he jumps down from the bleachers, his baseball bat perched on his shoulders as it always is. “Oh yeah, sure, go ahead.” Behind him, Mr. Saitama, Mr. Zombieman and Demon Cyborg nod their consents as well.

“Okay! Um… so, what’s your Quirk?”

“We don’t have Quirks in our world. In fact, most people don’t have any ability at all in our world.” Zombieman shrugs slightly, and glances at his arm. “The four of us are just… special, I guess.”

Ochako blinks. Wait, what? No Quirks? Most people are Quirkless? What kind of world is that?

Deku must be thinking the same thoughts, because he’s frozen in place, and Ochako can almost see the gears turning. He looks down at his notebook, then back up at the four, then down again, before speaking. “Then, um, what can you do?”

“Fighting spirit.” Metal Bat shrugs slightly, and taps at his forehead. “The more pumped up I get, the stronger I get. I’ve just kinda always been born like that. Mom shit her pants when I came home one day with a bunch of cuts and bruises after fighting a Tiger-level threat.”

A shadow goes over his face as if he realizes what he just said, but Deku fortunately doesn’t seem to notice as he writes it down. “Is there a limit to your fighting spirit?”

“Haven’t found one yet.” Metal Bat shrugs slightly, and glances over at Zenko. “I’ve won all my fights before I went too far.”

“Onii-chan, you would have lost to Garou if I hadn’t been there.”

“Zenko, I would have beat that bastard’s skull in if you hadn’t been there.”

Mr. Zombieman glances at the two siblings with a hint of a smile, then looks over at Deku. “For my part, I can regenerate from virtually anything. Can any of you not stand blood?”

“No.” Deku’s voice comes out as a squeak but it does come out immediately, and Zombieman nods, shrugging. “I can’t stand blood at all.”

“Dude, I had to put my suit in the laundry yesterday after what you did. Don’t do that again.” Mr. Saitama crosses his arms and glares down Mr. Zombieman, who smirks slightly and nods. “No, I’m serious. That suit holds sentimental value.”

“Well then, I guess I’ll just tell you. I just regenerate all my wounds. I’ve survived a lot of things, including decapitation, mutilation, incineration, poison, getting crushed, and being burned alive.” The pale man lists them off so casually Ochako has to do a double take just to realize that yes, all of those are very painful ways to die. She glances over at the pale man, and sees his smile grow slightly darker, and shivers.

I don’t know why but I’m getting scared of him.

Deku finishes writing, then looks up again with a cheerful smile. “Okay, Regeneration, type 3 or 4. Probably type 4, if he can survive being burned alive. Could you please tell me how you got your abilities? Wait, hold on a second, did you just say decapita--”

“Do I have to say?” Ochako can almost feel the air grow colder as Mr. Zombieman’s slight smile drops off his face. Deku gapes at him for a second before frantically shaking his head. “Oh, okay. That’s it for me, then.”

“Uh… What about you, Mr. Demon Cyborg…?”

The cyborg clears his throat and takes in a deep breath, before staring at the three of them with an intensity that makes Ochako feel uncomfortable. “It all started 4 years ago. I was 15 years old and still a normal human being. Even in this harsh world, I had a pretty happy and peaceful life with my family until then. But one day, a crazy cyborg attacked our town all of a sudden. He had completely lost his mind. I guess his brain had been damaged during its transplantation into his cyborg body. He left after destroying everything in the town. The parks, the schools, the buildings, my home. Of course, my family didn't survive. Only I was miraculously spared, but as I was just a meek 15-year-old boy back then, I wouldn't have survived long all alone in the ruins of a town if Dr. Kuseno hadn't passed the town by chance and found me. Dr. Kuseno is a scientist of justice and was pursuing the cyborg to stop him. I begged Dr. Kuseno to transform me into a cyborg and was reborn as a cyborg who fights for justice. I made a promise to Dr. Kuseno to find that cyborg one day and destroy him. Four years passed--”

“Genos, we’ve talked about this.”

“Ah. My deepest apologies, sensei.”

Ochako blinks, and glances at Iida and Deku, who are likewise still trying to process the wall of information that just came out of the cyborg’s mouth. The greenette manages to recover the fastest out of any of them, and taps at his chin thoughtfully. “Uh… could you repeat that please?”

Oh god why.

“To give the short version, I was a human child, before being turned into a cyborg when I was around your age.” Demon Cyborg shrugs, and looks down at his hands. “I am completely a robot, save for my brain, and everything I do is because of my robotic body.”

Thank god he didn’t say the entire thing over again.

“Mhm… what can you do?” Deku scribbles that down as fast as he can, before looking back up. “Was that… fire blast you did a couple minutes ago really strong or--”

“Not at all, that was quite weak, actually. Five weeks ago it would have required me to give it my all, but I have received numerous upgrades since then. In my current state, I can use Incinerates whenever I desire, without much effort.”

Without much effort?!

Deku gapes at him for a second, before scribbling with renewed energy, his tongue slightly sticking out of his mouth. “Ehh… what’s your maximum damage output?”

“I have never tried, but I am powerful enough to destroy level nine meteors on the Torino scale without going into my ten-seconds mode.” Ochako glances over at Iida, and the boy shrugs at her, seeming just as confused about what a Torino scale is. Apparently Demon Cyborg sees that, because he smiles slightly. “That is to say, I have enough power to destroy meteors that would cause large scale regional devastation. A level ten, which causes extinction events, is still above my capabilities.”

“O-oh.”

Demon Cyborg nods, then takes a step back gracefully. “Sensei, I believe it is your turn to speak.”

“Eh? Oh, sure.” Mr. Saitama scratches at his cheek, glancing down lazily at the greenette. Standing right in front of her, Ochako can’t help but feel unimpressed by his lazy stare and nonchalant demeanor, as well as his bland and unemotional face. “What do you want to know?”

“Uhm… what can you do?”

“I punch things.” His answer is just as simple and short as Ochako expected, and she can’t help but feel a little disappointed by the answer. “That’s about it.”

“Bullshit.” For a second, Ochako can’t reconcile the word with the voice, and she still tries to figure out who just talked even as she turns around to see Aizawa-sensei. The bandaged man has his arms crossed and glares at Mr. Saitama, but she thinks she can see just a hint of fear in his face. “You destroyed Gym Gamma yesterday with a casual punch and you call that ‘just punching?’ I doubt someone of your capabilities is limited to just that.”

Ochako blinks, before her jaw drops.

DESTROYED Gym Gamma, with a CASUAL punch?!

“I thought we were going to forget about that.” Mr. Saitama shifts uncomfortably, and looks to the side. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, I’m not paying and you can’t make me, because I’m broke.”

“That’s not the problem here!” Aizawa’s voice is slowly going up in volume and he glares at the bald man with all his might. “What are you really, what kind of superhuman strength do you need to do that?!”

“Oh, so you want to know how I got strong as well?”

Ochako perks up, her head instantly turning to stare at the bald man. His eyes are glaring and his face has become serious; she almost wonders if she’s looking at a different person entirely. Beside her, Iida and Deku are also still, the greenette’s pencil stopped as he looks at Mr. Saitama with interest.

“Sensei, please don’t joke around.”

“Genos, I’ve told you, that’s exactly how I got strong. One hundred push-ups, one hundred sit-ups, one hundred squats and a ten kilometer run, every day. No air conditioning or heater, three square meals and a banana for breakfast, and fight every single monster you can see. That’s all I did.” The bald man shrugs and glances at his disciple, who looks as if he’s heard that answer before. His face is back to its normal unimpressive state, but Ochako doesn’t have time to think about that.

What?

I mean, I’ve never done that before but…

“Bullshit, I’ve done more than that!” Metal Bat glares fully at Mr. Saitama, his eyes full of suspicion and confusion. “Why can I not kill everything in one punch, then?!”

“I’ve done that too…” Next to her, Deku’s voice is small, but everyone can still hear every single word he says. “But… I didn’t do it for a long time… ”

“Well, I did that for three years straight, and got strong halfway through.” Saitama shrugs, then glances down at himself. “I remember not being able to wake up in the morning, having my bones creak every time I did a push up, and coughing blood a lot.”

“Okay… thank you.” Deku scribbles that last bit down, then smiles with uncertainty at the pros, before turning to run towards the changing room. Iida follows suit, but Ochako finds herself rooted in place, staring at the bald man’s retreating back.

Is it that easy?

“Um, excuse me?” Her voice is just loud enough for Mr. Saitama to notice and turn around as everyone passes the two of them by. “Uhm… ”

“Yeah, what is it?”

“Do you still train?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Can I train with you?” The words slip out of her mouth before she can think about what she just said, and her heart sinks when she sees Mr. Saitama shake his head. “I want to get strong, and I thought it would be a good idea… ”

“I’m not taking any more disciples. One is enough.” The bald man seems annoyed by the memory as he casts a glance over to Genos, and Ochako wonders what happened in the past for him to say that.

“No, I don’t want to be a disciple, just a… practice buddy?”

Mr. Saitama stares at her for a long second and she shifts slightly, nervously wringing her hands behind her back. Just when she’s about to apologize and go back regretting her words, he nods. “Get to the front of UA by 6 AM tomorrow.”

Her heart soars, and she gives a wide grin as she shakes her head up and down. “Thank you so much!”

I guess I’m a teacher now, so I might as well do teacher things.

That girl reminds me of how I was before I lost my hair. She’s energetic and clearly motivated to become strong. It would be a shame if all that potential went down the drain.

I might regret it tomorrow, and she might be a pain in the butt, but screw it, I’ve made my decision. It’s not like I’m trying to keep other people from being strong anyways. It might be nice to have someone who really understands how I feel.

It’s worth a try.

Chapter Text

I must be in a different world or something like that.

The Hero Hunter cuts a terrifyingly impressive frame as he leans back slightly on thin air, arms crossed as he glares at the billboard. The pedestrians give him a wide berth, some glancing at him out of the corner of their eyes and taking in his slim but well-muscled figure.

He’s a bit glad that the footage shown on the news was too blurry for anyone to see that the one who beat the Hero Killer, because there’s no way in hell anyone would be able to mistake him. There aren’t a lot of people out there who are both well-muscled and slim, but the real problem is his bloodstained haircut that stands out in any crowd. Not to mention the scar running across his face and a bloodshot right eye.

And it seems like the Monster Association’s taken over some major city not far from here… Tokyo, I think it was? Huh… does that mean heroes would have come here too?

Damn, am I going to see the old man again?

A smirk crosses his face as he begins to think. That means no one in this world knows who the Hero Hunter Garou is. All they know is that there’s some man out there who defeated their oh-so-mighty Hero Killer Stain.

I can’t have myself be some nobody, I have to be absolute evil. These people are going to know my name, whether they want to or not. Whether there’s the old fart and the king of earthworms or not.

The hunt is on.

Stain hasn’t thought of himself as Chizome Akaguro for years now, but as he shrivels up in a corner of one of his hideouts, he is forced to come to terms with his humanity.

I’m not dying, but shit, it hurts.

The strange man had called himself a “Hero Hunter,” and yet had no idea who Stain was, and seemed to think that he himself was the original anti-hero vigilante, not Stain. Not only that, but the man had been able to move faster than anything Chizome believed possible, and was able to completely dumpster him in a matter of seconds.

Chizome had encountered a countless number of his copycats, all of whom had decided to purge society of heroes, not because they thought it was right but because they thought his persona as Stain was ‘cool.’ Every single one of them had reacted the exact same way when they had come face to face with their idol; they realized who they were looking at, gasped in shock, then began fangirling, disgusting the Hero Killer. Not a single one of them had the light of conviction in their eyes, just idolatry, and not a single one of them were really capable of fighting heroes out in the open.

That man was different.

That man was powerful, striking faster and harder than Chizome had ever been hit before, and so casually as well. That man had no idea who Chizome was, nor did he care to surrender once he realized Chizome was the Hero Killer, meaning he probably had a lot of experience as one himself.

And most of all, there was a raging inferno of self-belief in his eyes, of the knowledge that what he was doing was right, instead of a few ashes that would quickly sputter and burn out the moment he encountered an obstacle.

But how does he act as a Hero Hunter if he doesn’t kill humans, as he so claimed?

Idly, his fingers trace his empty scabbard, and for the eighteenth time in half as many minutes, he’s reminded that the man’s attack cut through hardened steel like tissue paper. Those slashes could easily have cut through flesh and bone and sliced him up into a million tiny pieces.

What could they do to civilians?

For the first time, Chizome Akaguro begins to realize why society accepts all capable heroes, no matter how flawed or broken they are.

When he looks down at his hands, he realizes that it’s holding out his phone, and for a second, he considers calling that number. Is it really necessary? Does he really need to go back and beg for help from that man?

Then he remembers how terrifyingly powerful the stranger was, and he begins dialing without hesitation. The vague buzz of a line being called up echoes in his ear, and he pauses for a second, before a rough voice echoes through the small, flat rectangle next to his head. “Hello?”

“It’s me.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“No, listen. There’s something important I have to tell you.”

The voice at the other end hesitates for a second, before sighing. “What is it?”

“What did you want to ask, Mister Zombieman?” The pale man glares down at Principal Nezu, who shrinks back immediately. “It’s quite late right now, you know.”

The S Class leans his back against a wall and crosses his arms, regretting not having lit a cigarette beforehand. “Just a request. Do you have contacts up at the government or whoever gives out alerts for villains?”

“Why, of course. Why do you ask?”

Zombieman shrugs, glancing around casually. “I genuinely enjoy hero work, and I was getting bored. Could you give me some hero work to do?”

Nezu glances at him warily, before sighing. “I can do that, but on one condition.”

“And what would that be?”

“No killing.”

“Deal, as long as you give me nonlethal weapons.”

The rat-bear thing nods, and looks over at the wall grimly. “I must say, I haven’t heard many people confess they enjoy fighting for their lives and other people’s lives on a daily basis. What leads you to say that?”

Zombieman blinks, glances down at his hands. “There are a few reasons. First, I like saving people. I myself wasn’t able to live my life as full as I wished I had, and I don’t want to see anyone go through the same things that I did.”

Nezu nods, and the pale man can see the admiration beginning to glimmer in the animal’s eyes. It almost stops him from saying what comes next, but he can’t stop a vicious smirk from curling onto his face. “Second, I enjoy creating rivers of blood.”

The rat-thing goes stiff, and he can feel eyes on him, eyeing the guns strapped under his coat. The S Class waves his hand, still grinning evilly. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt anyone I’m not supposed to, and even then I won’t kill anyone.”

“I… I’ll talk with some of my higher-ups.” Nezu nods quietly, and sighs. “Please wait a day or two.”

“Thanks.” Zombieman nods, pushes off the wall, and turns to leave. “Put in a good word for me, please.”

“Will do.”

Ochako blinks the sleep out of her eyes as she tries to stand straight without falling over. The wind wraps itself around her skin, and she really regrets wearing shorts; at least she has a jacket for the top. Maybe I should change into the UA uniform, it’s in my backpack…

In front of her, Mr. Saitama yawns slightly, and glances over at her. “It’s really early right now, aren’t you tired?” He has on a blue tracksuit, which seems a little too large for him because it hangs just a little loose.

For a second, she contemplates trying to look strong and denying it, before a yawn slips out of her own mouth. Dammit! “... Kinda.”

“Well, I guess we should start. Before we do, can you do a hundred push ups easily?”

“Eh?” Ochako frowns and puffs up her cheeks as she begins thinking. “Easily… not easily, but I can do it well enough, I guess?”

“Then you should probably do more than a hundred. For me, a hundred sit-ups, squats and push-ups, along with a ten kilometer run was about the most I could do without having to go to the hospital. And since you’re the one who’s going to a hero school, you should probably be a lot stronger than I was. I was pretty weak before I started training, to be honest.” The bald man scratches at his temple, lip quirking slightly as he does so.

“O-Okay.” Ochako nods, and puts a finger to her lips as she thinks. “Uhm… how about 120?”

“If you feel like you can do it. Wanna start, then?”

She nods, and braces herself for the pain she knows is to come.

“Oh, right, I forgot to say a lot of things.” Saitama glances down at the girl who’s crumpled onto a bench, panting heavily as she tries to regain her energy. “There’s a lot more to it than just that.”

“Really? What else is… is there?”

“Well… ” The bald man purses his lips as he puts a hand on his chin, glancing up to the sky as he tries to dig up the memories of his own training. “For starters, there’s a lot more than just exercising every day, and I do mean every day, even if you get hurt or sick. Then there’s more exercising things outside of that. Usually, I’d go around and fight as many monsters and villains as I could see, but that’s probably going to be hard for you.”

“Yeah, I… agh… I guess. There’s Quirk restrictions and stuff, and I don’t even have my provisional license yet… We had a person come in and lecture us about that a few days ago, I think me going around fighting people violates the seventy-sixth amendment… ”

The hero for fun blinks, and sighs. “I have no idea what any of that means, but just… try to get as much outside exercise and practice fighting as possible. I’m not an expert or anything myself, I’m only good at fighting because I hit hard. The old man would probably beat me up if I was any weaker than I am now.”

“Old man?” The brown-haired girl manages to lift her head slightly to look at him dully. “What old man?”

He shrugs, purses his lips. “Old man named Bang wanted to train me back in my world after I punched some meteor. He’s pretty nice, and he’s strong since he’s the number 3 S Class hero, but honestly, I don’t really want to do martial arts.”

“Wait, S Class rank THREE?” Uraraka bolts up straight at that, her eyes going wide. “Isn’t Metal Bat number 16 or something?”

“Yeah, the old man’s pretty strong. I saw him fight a monster that destroyed a small building with one punch; there wasn’t much of a corpse left when he was done, and he didn’t take a single hit.” Saitama shrugs, and takes a sip from the water bottle in his hands. “I dunno, I think that’s pretty strong even for my world, but it’s not that impressive for S Class. Genos could have done it like twenty upgrades ago, though the old man didn’t even try that hard. More importantly, he’s nice. Invites me over for lobster or hotpot every once in a while.”

“And did you say you punched a METEOR? Wait-- didn’t Mr. Demon Cyborg say he could destroy some level 9 meteor something or other yesterday?”

“Yeah, I punched that one.” The bald man shrugs again, feeling a little stupid as he glances down at his water bottle, which is nearly empty. “It was pretty big, but it was falling on my city. I like Z City, I’m not going to let some rock destroy it. Best supermarket deals in the continent as well.”

“Wh-what happened?”

“Uh, some robot dude named Metal Knight came in and bombed it, and did like nothing. I think that guy’s also some S Class? Don’t remember. Genos tried to burn it or something but failed, old man Bang was also there but couldn’t do much. So I punched it.” For the third time, Saitama shrugs and glances up at the clear blue sky, before looking down at the new watch he got yesterday. “Huh, we still have time.”

“But what happened when you punched it?” Uraraka looks way too engaged with the story for Saitama to stop telling it, even though he really wants to, so he scratches his head. Crap, what happened next? I don’t really remember. Oh, uh… the, uh, those two guys. The, uh, sweatshirt brothers or something.

“It broke. I didn’t get all of the small pieces so most of the city still got hit hard, but no one died, so that’s a win in my book.” Really, the supermarket and my apartment were fine so it’s not like anything of value was lost. Not to mention everything got rebuilt in like a week, anyways.

“Huh? But… what did people think about you?”

“Oh. Uh, some other heroes got jealous that I did something like that and started calling me a cheater.”

“WHAT?!” Uraraka’s voice rises faster than he can prepare himself for, and he winces slightly at the sudden outburst. “But… but… you destroyed the meteor! You saved the city! Why would they do that?! That’s not heroic at all! That’s something only villains do!”

I wish.

“It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t bother me. The only things that were lost were less valuable than lives, and everyone moved on soon enough.” The bald man looks down at his watch. “Oh, dang. We have like ten minutes until your class starts.”

“Wha-TEN?! We’re like thirteen kilometers away from UA! How am I going to--” Saitama cuts her off by slashing his hand through the air. He digs through his memory as he stares down the road they just ran on, before holding his hand out to the girl.

“Want a lift?”

“Good morning, Uraraka-san!”

“Good morning… agh… ” Ochako barely manages to make it to her desk before she collapses into it, resting her head against the wood. The world’s still spinning around her, but she doesn’t feel like throwing up anymore, which is nice.

“Uraraka-san, are you okay?” She hears Deku and Iida’s concerned voices, and the scrape of chairs as the rest of the class begins to stand up and go over to her. She waves her hand in the air, but doesn’t trust herself to lift her head enough off the desk to be able to speak coherently.

Once she manages to lift her head off the wood, she glances around blearily at the others. “‘M fine. Just got up early today.”

“How early did you get up?!”

“Like… eh… two hours earlier.” Judging by how the moon was still high up in the sky when she woke up, that seems about right. “Also… agh… tried working out… ”

“At this time in the morning? Uraraka-san, did you even have breakfast?” Yaomomo’s voice barely registers, and she manages to look at the other girl tiredly.

“Yeah, I had a banana… ”

“That’s it?! Uraraka-san, the recommended meal for young men and women our age is--” Ochako quietly tunes out Iida’s ranting and puts her head back on her desk, groaning again.

“I asked to train with Mr. Saitama yesterday and he said yes. So that’s a thing I did today.”

She looks up in time to see everyone exchanging glances with each other, before a single word leaves their mouths, all at the same time. “WHAT?!”

“Ehgh… it’s really hard… ”

“Wait, Uraraka-san, do you mean the 100 push-ups thing he talked about yesterday?” She glances over at Deku and begins to nod, before changing her mind and shaking her head. “Then what was it?”

“That, but a hundred and twenty of everything, because I’m probably stronger than he was when he started working out.”

“... Do you feel any stronger?”

“I feel really tired, but at least I don’t want to throw up anymore.” She groans again, before shaking her head and forcing herself to sit back straight. “Well, I guess it’s good exercise.”

She doesn’t notice the curious look that passes between Deku and Iida.

“Mr. Demon Cyborg, can I ask you a question?”

Genos stops to turn and look at the green-haired boy that shrivels up slightly at the attention. Behind him, the tall boy with the glasses and the brown-haired girl are both with him again. “Of course. But, did you not question me yesterday? What could you want now?”

“Uh, we just wanted to ask about Mr. Saitama’s training routine.”

“Ah.” Genos blinks once, before shrugging helplessly. “I believe I will not be of much help, you should go ask sensei.”

“Uh, just, we want to know what you know about it. And Mr Saitama looks really busy.” The greenette shrinks as he speaks, and Genos sighs, nodding slightly as he gives in.

“Very well, what about it do you wish to know?”

“Erm, were there any side effects?” This time it’s the girl speaking, and she scratches at her temple nervously. Genos blinks, then narrows his eyes as he begins to think.

“Hm… he has told me that about a year and a half into his practice, he was breaking bones almost on a daily basis and coughing blood regularly… oh, but the biggest drawback is most surely that he went bald.”

“EH?!” All three of their mouths drop, and Genos frowns a little, before glancing up at the clock. “You go BALD?”

“From what I have heard, yes. Now, you have approximately twenty-nine seconds until your first period starts. Get in your seats.”

He wonders vaguely why the brown-haired girl crumples into her seat with the face of the damned.

“I spent all of yesterday looking through the General Studies students, and I only got one person willing to move up. Good thing he’s also pretty capable himself. Everyone, welcome Hitoshi Shinso, he’ll be your classmate for the rest of the year.”

There’s a round of applause as the tired-looking purple-haired boy bows slightly, a quiet smile stretching onto his face. Ochako can’t help but notice how similar he looks to Aizawa-sensei, with his half-closed eyes and crazy hair.

The boy takes his seat quietly, and Aizawa-sensei clears his throat before nodding. “Right, well, I’m going to run to the bathroom for a second, turn to page 93.”

The seating chart has been moved around so everyone sits in three rows, and Ochako is to the right of Deku, who’s also next to Shinso, who’s right of Iida. She feels a little sorry for the newcomer, having to listen to the two boys rant, but she supposes it could be worse.

The moment the door closes behind Aizawa, Iida sticks out his hand and adjusts his glasses. “Pleased to meet you! My name is Tenya Iida.”

“Oh. Cool.” Shinso shakes, before sighing and putting his head down on his desk. “I’m Shinso Hitoshi, but you know that.”

“My name’s Izuku Midoriya!” Ochako winces a little as Deku likewise greets Shinso overenthusiastically, and the new student slowly raises his head before taking the greenette’s outstretched hand.

“Oh.”

To be fair, Ochako thinks she would have done the exact same thing if she had the energy to, but she feels really tired right now, and instead just gives the other boy a vague wave. “Ochako Uraraka.”

He nods, and leans back into his chair with a quiet smile. “Hello.” There’s a bit of nervousness in his eyes, but more than anything there’s a quiet amazement as he looks around the room and watches himself blend in with the hero course he must have pursued for so long.

Ochako can understand, or would understand if she wasn’t too sleepy to care.

Little by little, she watches as the conversation in the room begins to grow, and the new student’s face begins to blossom quietly into a smile.

“You tired?” Mr. Saitama’s question catches her off guard, and Ochako shrugs slightly. “You should be, otherwise that means you didn’t do enough.”

“I want to go home and take a nap.” She lets out a large yawn, and the bald man chuckles slightly. “I didn’t know it was going to be this hard.”

“I remember I barely finished the first time I tried it out.” The bald man slumps backwards against a wall slightly, looking down at the still-seated girl. “It’s hard at first, but don’t panic.”

“Thanks.” She groans again, before raising her head up slightly to glare at the bald man. “Uh, why did you never tell me I could go bald?”

“Wait, really? I thought that was like the first thing I mentioned.” Mr. Saitama shrugs, pushing off the wall. “I mean, it might be different for you, but still. You gonna keep doing it or quit?”

“I’m not quitting.” The words exit her mouth immediately, and she slides down her chair slightly as she yawns again. “I need to get strong, somehow, before the sports festival.”

“Alright.” Mr. Saitama nods, before frowning a little. “I guess it might be hard to do the no air conditioner or heater part because there are other people. Maybe you could wear like three jackets when they turn on the air conditioner or something.”

“I’ll think about it.”

The bald man gives her a small nod, before looking down at his watch again. “It’s been five minutes. You should go to lunch with everyone else.”

“Oh right, thank you!” Ochako leaps to her feet, pushing herself out of her desk as she does so. The rest of the room is empty and everyone else has already gone off to lunch, one thing she doesn’t want to miss.

“Remember, three solid meals. Eat as much as you need to!” The bald man’s voice echoes after her and she nods without turning around, listening to her stomach growl.

Have a solid meal… I can do that.

“Five minutes till the class ends… then the entire period before I’m even supposed to do something… what a pain.”

Saitama scratches at his head as he walks down the hall. No idea where Genos is, frankenstein dude seems like a total party pooper, and Josuke - wait no, Metal Mat or whatever his name is, he’s spending time with his little sister. I got nothing to do.

It’s not like he always had something to do when he was back home. Usually, he’d just spend entire days punching monsters and reading manga after he finished his workout; gaming sessions with King or hotpot at old man Bang’s dojo was rare. In fact, now that he thinks about it, he spent most of his time trying to find something to do with Genos.

But at least there, he had some stability. If he didn’t want to go out and punch monsters, he could read manga. If he didn’t want to read manga, he could punch monsters. If he didn’t want to do either, then he’d do one anyways. Here, he has no idea what he can do and whether or not it’s legal.

Well, he doesn’t know any laws back home either, but back home he knew he wouldn’t get arrested. Here, well, he can easily get out of jail but that would be no fun.

Five minutes to burn.

He turns the corner before stopping and blinking to stare at the behemoth of a man in front of him.

A bench of some kind is propped up against a wall, and it sags slightly under the weight of the goliath that sits on it. The man is blond and incredibly muscular, but the first thing that pops out to the bald is how, even sitting down, the other man almost matches Saitama’s height.

Somehow, Saitama feels like this man is familiar.

“Huh, have I seen you before?” The bald man wonders aloud quietly, and it’s enough to catch the attention of the other man, who lifts his head up to see who the newcomer is. The bigger man manages a wide smile made of plastic, and draws himself up to stand at his full, impressive height.

“Hello there, Mr. Saitama! I hope you are enjoying our faculties?”

He was the dude at the stadium or whatever, right? Uh, what was his name…

“... Uh, did you want something?”

Saitama realizes he’s been staring at the dude for a while now, and frowns as he tries to place the name. “Just trying to remember your name. Uhm… All… Alright?”

The man’s shoulders sag and he sighs slightly, before taking a seat again. “All Might.”

“Dammit, I was close.” Saitama frowns slightly, before looking at the bigger man. “You were at that weird stadium place, weren’t you?”

“I am the number one hero of this world.” That’s a sentence that should be proud and boastful, arrogant even, not quiet and unbelieving. Saitama blinks, and shoves his head forward a bit to stare at the other man fully.

“Well, be proud about it then.” The man shrugs, and glances around. Dammit, no seat, but I guess this guy is massive.

“How can I? It took me all my might to just match a single villain that was nowhere near as powerful as the monsters that have overrun Tokyo. Can I really call myself the strongest man in the world if I am not able to protect everyone from everything?”

Saitama pauses, stares, blinks. I… feel like I’ve heard this before.

It takes him a second to realize the bigger man is still talking, and he waves his hand in the air to stop him. “You know, it’s not about being strong but more about being able to be the hero other people look up to.”

“And how is that any different from being strong?” The bigger man glances up at him, his eyes quiet and depressed. “The people look up to me to be the one that wins, the one that can do anything, when in reality I am but an ant in front of these behemoths.”

“You don’t need to win everything, you just need to be there to show them there’s hope.” Saitama shrugs, eventually deciding to lean against the wall. The image of a certain scarred blond man pops up in his mind, and he sighs, slowly turning to look at this world’s strongest hero. “You don’t have to be strong, you just have to show people they have someone to think about. If I went to, uh… Tokyo? Yeah, Tokyo. If I went to Tokyo and killed all the monsters they wouldn’t look up to me as their hero, that would still be you.”

All Might - was that his name? - nods grimly, before looking over at the bald man. “Then what do you propose that I do? If someone else goes and saves Tokyo from the clutches of these villains, what can I do?”

“Just make yourself a better person than the day before.” If there’s one thing Saitama learned from his training, it’s that. “It doesn’t matter whether you win or lose against someone today as long as you can beat them tomorrow.”

“But if I can’t win today, then who will?”

Saitama shrugs, then glances at the clock. “It’s a lot better to at least try to fight. Because if the heroes run away, then who’ll be left to fight?”

The blond man stares at him for a second before hanging his head. Something flickers through his face for a second before All Might raises his head with grim determination plastering itself onto his face. “Thank you for your kind words, Mr. Saitama.”

“Yeah, I think the next class is supposed to begin in like five minutes. You should hurry.”

The bigger man grunts in surprise, before bounding to his feet. He manages a small but genuine smile as if practicing, before flashing a thumbs-up and turning to sprint down the corridor.

Saitama pushes off the wall, then purses his lips as he begins to follow behind the world’s number one hero. Hope that guy’s doing all right, he seemed pretty sad. I’m getting kinda hungry, now that I think about it.

What he doesn’t notice is the small, green-haired boy at the opposite end of the corridor, watching his every movement and taking in his every word.

“How was your first day in the hero course, Shinso?” Iida’s voice is as loud as usual, but it quiets down almost instantly when the purple-haired boy winces slightly.

“It was fine. Aizawa-sensei’s pretty weird, isn’t he.” Everyone laughs wearily at the joke, but apparently it wasn’t actually a joke because Shinso glances around in confusion. “What? I’m serious, the class is weird.”

“Welcome to the hero course, motherfucker.” Kaminari yelps as Jiro jabs her earphone jacks into the back of his head, then turns around to glare at her weakly. “What was that for?”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you try to revive a dead meme that’s been dead for years now.”

The twelve 1-A students are all sitting around a table in the dorms, trying to ignore the eight empty spots that had been filled before. Well, eleven, since Bakugo went home for the day about an hour ago. Ochako can almost hear the crickets chirping as everyone tries to think of ways to kickstart a conversation.

Well, everyone except Deku, at least.

“Deku, what are you thinking about?” The greenette’s head jerks up as he blinks and tries to take in her words. When he does he shrugs a little before glancing down at his hands.

“I was just thinking about how cool the new heroes are.”

“New Heroes?”

“I think he’s talking about the four guys from the other world or whatever. New Heroes sounds like the name of some rival association.”

“They’re pretty weird, but cool at the same time.” Kirishima yawns slightly as he leans back on the sofa. “Like, did you see Demon Cyborg yesterday? He was manly as hell. Pretty nice too, until Bakugo threw a hissy fit.”

“I must say, I received a lot of useful information on how to use my Quirk in battle from Mr. Demon Cyborg.” Yaoyorozu stretches and squirms, before smiling gently. “Ah, Shinso must have no idea what we’re talking about.”

“I’ve never heard of a Demon Cyborg in my life.”

Everyone laughs again, before Kaminari slaps the gloomy-looking boy on the back. “Don’t worry, we didn’t either until two days ago. Public doesn’t know who they are either.”

“Well, who are they?” The purplette turns to stare at the blond boy, who shifts slightly and scratches at his head, mouth slightly open as if unsure how to explain. “Uh, someone please?”

“You know how we went to the USJ for a field trip two days ago, right?” Shinso nods at Jiro’s question, and the earphone user shrugs slightly. “Well, we got attacked by villains, one of whom was able to fight All Might head on, then some delinquent and his little sister fell out of the sky and the dude beats their asses.”

“What kind of bad fanfic am I listening to?”

“I kinda wish it was. Anyways, some other guys show up a little later, they seem to know each other, we go back to UA, then we hear about Tokyo and Endeavor shows up with his arm ripped off. And the rest is history.”

“What the hell?”

“We dunno either.” Kaminari sighs and slumps backwards into his seat. “It looks like those guys are really strong, though I’m not sure about that Saitama dude.”

“He’s crazy strong.” Ochako groans quietly and shakes her head. “The guy ran thirteen kilometers in half a second. I still kinda want to throw up because of that.”

“Wait, what?” She doesn’t know who asked that, and it doesn’t really matter. She shrugs and groans again.

“Why do you think I’m so tired today?”

She can tell everyone’s holding themselves back from asking questions, and to tell the truth she’s fine with that. It’s been a long day and she doesn’t want to deal with other people right now.

The silence is awkward and unfinished, though, and she feels kinda bad about that.

Iida clears his throat slightly, and Ochako raises her head a little to look up at him. “Whatever the case, I was quite impressed by their capabilities. And I believe they are excellent heroes as well.”

A murmur of agreement echoes around the room, and Ochako finds herself nodding too.

This time, the silence that falls is comfortable, and their conversation feels finished.

The scourge of Japan is terrified.

Just days ago, All For One was a terrifying myth that threatened to turn real at any moment. If he had made his reappearance, the entire country would have cowered and begged for mercy. They would have been forced to watch him fight and destroy their hero, and they would have lost all hope.

Today, he’s the last thing anyone worries about, and even if he attacked somewhere, no one would notice.

The fall of Tokyo has terrified not just the country, but the entire world. Just a handful of Villains destroying the world’s second largest city, filled with competent and powerful heroes, would have been unthought of, and yet it happened. Not even All For One could have imagined doing something on that scale, and those Villains managed to accomplish it in a matter of minutes, without much effort.

But more than that, the thing that really disturbs him is that none of them have reappeared since.

That’s a feat that not even he would be able to reproduce, nor does he think he would want to. These Villains took over one of the largest megacities in the world and slaughtered countless powerful foes that even All For One himself would have trouble with, then they disappeared immediately as if they didn't care at all.

Does that mean they have done something on a far larger scale before in the past?

The Villain has spent the last five years alone in a dark room, with just the doctor for company, watching and waiting for his time to strike. He has come to revel in the quiet loneliness that the lack of lights and the monitor brings. Yet all of a sudden, they terrify him.

I am not strong enough.

His hands tighten on the edge of his seat as the thought flashes through his mind, and he grits his teeth. I am the most powerful Villain in all of Japan. I will not be deterred by the mere presence of a few upstarts.

I will become more powerful.

Chapter Text

“You doing okay?”

Uraraka lets out a small groan as she nods, and tries to push herself off the ground. Unfortunately, her arms still haven’t recovered from becoming jelly, and she collapses onto her face for the third time in as many minutes. “I’m doing fine.”

“Well, good.” Saitama shrugs slightly and glances down at his watch. “You got about two minutes to be lying there.”

“Isn’t… agh… isn’t this around the time when the sensei says ‘Oh no, you’re working too hard, make sure to take care of yourself’? Because I feel like that might be a problem.” The girl flips onto her back and stares up at the clear blue sky that allows the sun to burn uncontested.

“No, you’re supposed to overstress yourself. I told you, I was spitting blood and everything.” The bald man shrugs slightly, before squatting down. “Besides, you seem like you’re taking it a lot better than a week ago. You only collapsed twice today, and finished in half the time too.”

“That’s… that’s… hahg… that’s true but… agh, it’s hard.”

“Well, what would it be if it wasn’t hard?”

“That’s true and I hate the fact that it is.”

The two laugh, one wearily and the other halfheartedly, before Saitama holds his hand out to the girl. “We should go back now.”

She flops around again, trying to grab his hand, but ends up face planting into the concrete for a fourth time. “Aaaagh… ”

He sighs, then picks her up around the waist with one hand and grabs their water bottles with another. “Here goes.” The bald man tenses for a second, before beginning to run in a direction he hopes is right.

Whenever I go out to train with this girl, I get deja vu.

It’s like looking in a mirror that can turn back time. She fights just as hard as I did so she can do her best, and when she falls over, she tries her best to get back up. I was like that a year and a half ago.

How can I not do my best to help her become the great hero she wants to be?

“Mr. Zombieman, the plan for you to do hero work has been approved by my superiors.”

“Oh, good.” Zombieman yawns slightly and glances boredly over at the principal of UA. “When can I start?”

“Now, actually. I would like to introduce you to your future colleague. Please enter.”

The undying hero raises an eyebrow and clambers to his feet as the door to the office opens and a tall man in a tan overcoat strides in. His eyes are calm and confident, and there’s a gentle smile playing at his lips. He’s quite bulky, though not anywhere near as powerfully built as Zombieman himself, and he gives off the very image of a crime-fighting detective.

“Mr. Zombieman, this is Mr. Naomasa Tsukachi, and you’ll be working with him.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” The detective holds out a hand and the hero takes it; the taller man’s grip is firm and reassuring. Looking him up and down, Zombieman can see he is, at least on the surface, a capable man.

“Likewise.” Zombieman glances over at the white rat-thing that sits looking pleased with itself, and flicks his chin at the principal. “When am I starting?”

“As soon as possible! We would prefer if you would begin collaborating today, because we have a very important case that Mr. Tsukachi has been working on.”

“Alright.” He tilts his head at his new partner, who smiles at him cheerily. “Where are we going?”

The smile drops like a rock and the detective’s face grows grim. “We’ll be going to interrogate the Nomu.”

“Nomu?” The name’s vaguely familiar, but Zombieman can’t place a face to it.

“The monster your… Metal Bat fought.”

“Oh, the demon.” Zombieman shrugs, then glances over at the principal, who watches quietly from the side. “Can I get my weapons?”

The moment he sees it, Zombieman can’t help but think of Superalloy Darkshine wearing a bird mask.

The thing is massive and powerfully built, towering easily twice as high as the hero himself. Its eyes bulge grotesquely, and a strange beak sticks out of its face, as does its brain. To a normal person, it would be a terrifying monster, capable of ripping someone into shreds without a care in the world.

As an experienced S Class hero, it looks like a weaker demon level threat. Nothing he can’t handle, but still something to tiptoe around.

The monster’s shackled to a chair, but he can see it beginning to struggle more violently with every movement. If past experience is anything to go off of, that chain won’t hold it for long.

“We have no real way to interrogate it.” The detective sighs a little, and glances over at the rack of unloaded guns nearby; they’re probably there just for show. “It was strong enough to fight All Might to a draw, and we don’t really have anyone who can take it down.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“Well, I just did that, didn’t I?” Tsukachi grimaces again, before pointing at a few computers scattered around nearby. “Basically, we need to dissect it somehow, but we don’t have anyone on standby.”

“So I’m doing the grunt work.” Zombieman sighs, before slipping his axe off his back. I would have liked to bring my machete too, but I guess if it got its hands on a sword this thing would go berserk.

“No, you’re only here for backup, in case something goes horribly wrong.” Tsukachi crosses his arms and stares at the chained creature, which snarls as it shakes experimentally at the metal binding it to the seat. “If something like that got out, it might take a lot of lives before we manage to take it down.”

“Alright.” Zombieman glances over at the computers, and the lingo that scrolls across the screen. “What’s this?”

“There were some experts here, working on trying to figure out what it is. If you look in the room, you’ll see machines and whatever, and these computers control those apparently.” Tsukachi shrugs, and glances around. “Apparently they’re on break right now, but they should come back in about a minute.”

“Alright.” The silence that stifles the room is suffocating, but Zombieman doesn’t care. He’s used to being on his own, and being in a strange new world won’t change that a little bit.

Evidently Tsukachi isn’t quite as comfortable because he begins shifting around after a little, before glancing over at him. “Uh, do you do this kind of thing often?”

“Hm?”

“Do you fight monsters like this often?” The detective stares soberly at the beast that looms in front of them, ripping at its manacles furiously, eyes flashing with rage. “In your original world, were monsters like these common?”

“I wouldn’t say common, but they weren’t rare either.” Zombieman crosses his arms and tilts his head. “They’re dangerous threats that only top heroes can even think of taking on alone, that can threaten to destroy entire cities all by themselves, and they show up far too often.”

“But what about you? Have you ever faced them down yourself?”

The pale man blinks for a second, before closing his eyes. Several faces flash through his mind but the one that flickers in particular has massive lips, is colored brown and red and horned. It rests on top of a body that far dwarfs even the massive Nomu that sits in front of him, of an armored and beetle-shaped body that can easily shift to a purple and green scheme at any second.

His fists clench involuntarily around his axe, and he grimaces slightly before nodding. “Quite a few, actually. There are only seventeen of us S Class, and more than enough demons and dragons.”

“Huh.” Their conversation cuts to a stop when the door slides open and several men and women in coats come striding in. Tsukachi smiles and begins to wave his hand to gesture at them before a smashing sound echoes through the room.

Everyone whirls around to find the Nomu stumbling as it shakes itself free of the chains and tries to rise to its feet. It must be under some kind of sedative because it doesn’t seem to be able to stand properly, but the fury in its eyes is unmistakable.

It stumbles around a little bit, before wrenching its chair off the ground and hurling it at the barrier that separates it from the humans. The glass holds, but Zombieman can hear a loud cracking sound, and a spiderweb splinters across the front of it.

The scientists begin to run, one by one, shouting for help, and Tsukachi fumbles with something under his coat, presumably a gun. “Tartarus 4, I need backup!”

“Open the door.”

Tsukachi stops, staring at the hero in front of him, who twirls his axe so casually. “What?”

“Open the door.”

“Are you insane?!” The detective finally manages to pull out a handgun, something so utterly tiny and useless in the face of such a colossus. “We can’t hold it!”

“This cell can’t. At the very least, I’ll need to buy time for reinforcements to come.” As if to punctuate his words, the Nomu hurls the chair again. Fortunately the glass still manages to hold itself in place, but it won’t for much longer.

Tsukachi glances at him for a second longer, before nodding slightly. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

As the doors hiss open, Zombieman raises his axe, and steps forward to face the monster inside.

Detective Tsukachi has seen many things in his life, but none of them are anything close to what he watches right now.

The gun in his hands feels tiny and insignificant as he stares wide-eyed at the scene that unfolds in front of him, and he barely realizes that it clatters out of his hands and onto the floor.

He has never wanted more to throw up and he can’t help but notice the front of his pants growing damp, but he can’t look away.

What am I witnessing?

The question rings through his head as the pained roars of an inhuman creature echo through the room, covering up the sounds of an axe whistling through the air, quiet, fast and deadly.

He doesn’t know how long it takes, or how long he’s standing there. Time feels irrelevant as he stands like he’s frozen in place, jaw slack and eyes wide. Distantly, he realizes that the glass that separates himself from the cell has shattered and blood drips down from his forehead.

But it doesn’t matter, because he can only watch the scene in front of him.

It took All Might ten minutes to get the message that the Nomu was trying to break free of Tartarus, and thirty more to sprint there as fast as he possibly could.

The number one hero is completely healthy again, or as healthy as he can be, but he doesn’t feel like he is. If he could, he would have stayed in his hospital bed for the next week or so, thinking about his actions. Nevertheless, he began running the moment he got the news.

In the eternity it takes to get there, he has plenty of time to reflect on how, in just moments, one of the strongest nations in the world has been disgraced to fall to obscurity, with top heroes either dead or injured and the only person they can really rely on being an old, wounded man who can’t hold a handle to powerful villains that have overrun their largest city. Civilians put their faith in the heroes that show off to the public, but unfortunately they may have put all their eggs in a broken basket.

Even so, he just runs faster, because if the Nomu gets out, the basket won’t be the only thing broken.

When he doesn’t see Tsukachi’s face among the people who got out, or even Mr. Zombieman for that matter, his heart sinks. If they’re not out, it’s likely they’re trapped inside, and no matter how powerful Zombieman is, there’s no way to be sure that Tsukachi is safe.

The moment the doors open, he races inside, heart pounding.

There are cups and pens and papers thrown around the corridors, and signs of people having struggled to leave, but the damage is limited enough that he can tell the Nomu hasn’t been there. As he sprints down to the Nomu’s holding cell, his dread turns to confusion as he realizes there’s no way the Nomu could have made it out to where he is.

Meaning it never left the cell in the first place.

He skids to a stop at the sight of a person, who turns to look at him blankly. For all the years that All Might has known Naomasa Tsukachi, he’s never seen the other man so stunned or silenced. There’s a stream of blood dripping down the detective’s face, but it doesn’t seem to matter to him at all. The other man tilts his head, and for some reason, his voice is calm and quiet instead of hysterical. “Hello, Toshinori.”

Why is he so calm? Wait, no, scratch that, why is it so quiet?

Slowly, All Might turns to look at the cell, and gasps.

Blood paints the walls a crimson blaze that was never meant to be, and the glass windows are no longer windows, but mere shards that litter the floors. The shackles and chair that were inside the room are no longer solid objects, but splinters of wood and steel. There are impact craters here and there, signs of a massively powerful monster smashing through reinforced walls and ceilings in order to catch its prey.

In the very center of the room, said monster is slashed into a million tiny pieces, pinned down by the man that stands in the middle of the mess of a corpse. Zombieman’s jacket is gone and most of the right side of his shirt has disappeared with it, and so many streaks of blood flow across his skin that if he didn’t know otherwise All Might would think it to be paint. It doesn’t seem to bother the man, who leans silently on his axe as he lights a cigarette and takes a deep breath.

All Might doesn’t know how long he stands there gawking, but eventually the pale man’s eyes shift towards him and he pushes off his axe, spitting out the cigarette. “Oh, hello All Might. Do you know where to store the data for this thing?”

“Wh… you know what the scientists want?” A bit of a tremor enters Tsukachi’s voice, returning some of the self-awareness that All Might knows well, and Zombieman shrugs a little.

“It doesn’t look like it, but I’ve had… experiences… with situations like these.” The hero’s face darkens with the last five words, and he grimaces, as if conjuring up a bad memory, or perhaps a nightmare. “Anyways, where should I write it down?”

“Is it safe to leave it alone?”

Again, the pale man shrugs, and he glances down at the Nomu, which lies unmoving. “I think it’s pretty dead, but I guess I can cut it up some more. It should be fine; I can just beat it again if I have to.”

Oh right. This is the guy that shot his own head off and immediately grew it back. I should have known.

The number one hero watches as the hero spits out the cigarette and strides over to the desk, where he picks up a paper and a pen and begins scribbling. He can already feel smoke beginning to steam off of his skin, but that doesn’t matter much to him.

Deep inside, he can feel the little self-esteem he has left crumble and fall down his gut, and as he slowly turns around to leave, he can feel something else disappear with it.

“Today, we’ll be doing some real combat training, and by real, I mean you’ll be going up against professionals.”

At Mr. Aizawa’s announcement, everyone sits up a little straighter and glances around at each other excitedly. The pro hero lets the chatter begin to rise for a few seconds before killing it with a cough. “Don’t get too excited, you’re only getting the chance because I’ve decided to make it fair and have it be all of you against one person.”

“Huh?”

Everyone goes silent for a second before Bakugo smirks. “Just one? I could beat one person myself, I don’t need all these extras!”

As the class erupts in shouts of both agreement and anger, Ochako blinks and stares at the human firework. He’s recovered pretty quickly, which… I guess is a good thing? And so has Todoroki, I guess…

The redhead is as quiet as ever; if anything, he seems more subdued than before. It doesn’t seem like he’s fully recovered, and Ochako doesn’t blame him, but at least he’s doing fine now, it seems.

But really, just one person? I feel like we’re being underestimated. Unless it’s All Might, can anyone really keep up with Todoroki AND Bakugo at the same time, on top of everyone else?

“Really? Because you’ll be fighting Mr. Zombieman.”

Oh.

Everyone instantly falls silent and Bakugo’s smirk falls off his face at the speed of light. At the back of the room, the pale man shrugs slightly before taking out a cigarette from his coat pocket and lighting it casually. “Still not sure why I had to agree to this.”

“Well, you’re here because you’re a teacher, and the other three are more than capable of killing all twelve of them. At least without a weapon, you’re… relatively mortal.”

“That’s not wrong, but I’m getting the feeling the thing taking the most damage from this exercise is going to be my self-esteem. You see, I’d rather not babysit a bunch of teens for an entire class period.”

“I do that every day, stop complaining.”

“Fair.”

Zombieman sighs as he takes the cigarette out of his mouth, before tossing it carelessly to the side; the cigar lands perfectly in a trash can. “I’ll be waiting over at the arena, so tell them how it works.”

Mr. Aizawa nods, and as the pale man walks out the door he claps his hands together. “All right, any questions?”

Everyone blinks, before Iida bolts up to his feet. “Sir, you haven’t explained any rules yet!”

“It keeps going until all of one side surrenders or goes down completely. Either all twelve of you give up, or he does.” Aizawa’s mouth slides into a vicious grin. “You better go out there and do your best. Any other questions?”

The room is completely silent, and the teacher nods. “I’ll be generous. You have ten minutes to change into your hero costumes, starting… now.”

Ochako can’t help but be reminded of a final boss fight in a video game when all twelve students pile out of the locker room to face the man standing in the center of the arena. The trench coat is gone, and instead the man sports a black t-shirt as he swings his arms around experimentally. Zombieman shoots a cold glare to each and every one of them as he slowly rises up to his full height, balling up his fingers into fists before relaxing them.

It’s nothing if not intimidating, and she can feel herself shrink a little bit even as she takes her spot to surround the man in a circle.

Just remember the plan. Kirishima and Iida keep him in one place, Jirou, Shinso and Yaomomo stay as backup, Deku and Bakugo distract him, and the rest of us make sure he can’t move. We just need to make sure everything goes to plan, and we can win.

“Everyone ready?” At Aizawa’s question, Ochako can feel her head nodding automatically, and she can see others doing the same. “Alright, then go.”

“DIE!” As expected, Bakugo’s the first to attack, bouncing forward with his hands glowing a fiery orange. Zombieman crouches down onto the floor before swinging his outstretched leg, sweeping the blond’s legs out from under him. The human pomeranian crashes face first into the floor, and everyone winces even as they charge the hero.

The man twirls to avoid a wall of ice lancing towards him, jabbing his elbow into Kirishima’s gut as he does so. The redhead manages to harden himself just in time, but the punch still sends him staggering back a step. Zombieman hits the boy with two jabs to the gut, before lunging to the side, avoiding a thunderbolt from Kaminari. Mina flicks out a stream of acid, which sizzles as it hits the ground, but the hero doesn’t even spare it a second glance as he grabs Kirishima by the throat and tosses him into Bakugo’s path. The redhead takes the full force of an explosion head-on before crashing into his friend, and the two tumble to the ground. While Bakugo’s quick to get back to his feet, Kirishima remains on the ground, groaning.

Deku bounds forward and throws a haymaker, but the hero easily sidesteps, kicking the greenette aside with ease. Another explosion from Bakugo meets the same fate, and the hero ducks a wild barrage of hooks and jabs before nailing the blond with an uppercut to the stomach. The explosive boy chokes as he’s lifted a few inches off the floor, before crashing down onto his back for the third time in thirty seconds. Zombieman wastes no time, rolling backwards to dodge Kaminari’s electric bolts and Todoroki’s glaciers while using the same movement to crash into Deku’s legs, sending the boy toppling over like a domino.

As Bakugo and Deku slowly make their way to their feet, the hero sidesteps more ranged attacks, looking a little irritated that he can’t make sure the two boys stay down.

Ochako hovers around the edges of the fight, trying to find a good opportunity, but the pale man gives her no chances, even eyeing her carefully as he dances around the various attacks flying his way. Dang it, I just need him to slip up once… just once!

A blur crosses over her vision before Iida slams his shoulder into the hero’s gut. Zombieman stumbles back a little bit before latching his arm onto the speedster’s shoulder. Before anyone can react, he throws the bespectacled boy to the floor with a quick, clean motion, before jabbing his foot into the boy’s gut. Iida chokes and hunches over reflexively, before Zombieman wraps both his hands around the boy’s collar and tosses him up, just in time to block a barrage of ice, thunder and fire. The boy is sent flying by the projectiles before he hits the ground and lies there unmoving.

Then a black mist whips over the arena and curls around the hero’s arm. Claws dig into the hero’s skin and he yelps, more in surprise than pain. Zombieman tries to wrench his arm free but Dark Shadow holds on tight as Tokoyami mais his way over to the hero. Todoroki flicks a beam of frost and Mina fires off a bolt of acid, each of which solidifies around a leg and immobilizes said limb. Ochako lunges forward, slapping all five of her fingers on his free arm. The hero’s eyes widen in surprise as he begins to float slightly off the ground, unable to control where he is at all.

The plan’s working!

The pale man begins to shake around experimentally, as if to find a way out, but Dark Shadow’s claws hold him down and he’s completely immobilized otherwise. There’s no way for him to really retaliate, and there’s no way for him to punish Bakugo charging in blindly with his fist glowing a fiery orange.

The resulting explosion throws the man backwards and Ochako can hear the wind pushing itself out of his lungs. As he tries to regain his posture, Deku races forward, fist cocked back, and throws a wild hook. It catches the man in the chin, and his head snaps to the side painfully as he chokes again.

When he brings his head back around to glare at the students, Ochako feels a chill going down her spine at the cold, calculating anger reflected in his eyes.

Bakugo charges in for another blast, and somehow Zombieman swings his legs up just in time to meet him. His frozen leg catches the boy in the head, while the explosion blasts the sludge off of his other one. The ice shatters as Bakugo falls to the ground for a fourth time, howling, and now the only thing holding him back is Dark Shadow, who looks just as shocked and unprepared as anyone else. The hero yanks his arm experimentally, before gritting his teeth.

Dark Shadow’s claws remain curled around its target, but that’s exactly what Zombieman needs. He wrenches his body forward, glaring at the blades that hold his arm in place, and angles himself just a little bit, before dropping downwards.

The talons around his forearm slash through flesh and bone, and Zombieman’s limb dangles limply from the shadow’s hands as it stares numbly.

Everyone freezes and stares, horrified, and Ochako’s hands shoot up to cover her mouth instantly. All ten of her fingers tap each other in the process, and by the time realization strikes, it’s too late.

The moment Zombieman’s feet hit the ground, he whips a roundhouse kick into Tokoyami’s gut. Dark Shadow sputters out of existence as the bird boy gets bowled over like an empty bottle, and when he hits the floor he remains there unmoving.

Todoroki raises his hand, presumably to fire off another beam of ice, but the hero’s already in front of him, cocking his fist back. Todoroki yelps and curls up into a ball instantly, reflexively, like he’s done it before. The pale man stops, staring at him confusedly for a split second before grabbing him by the back of his costume and lifting him up off the ground. Ashido freezes a heartbeat before the hero throws the heterochromatic at her, and there are two ugly cracks as they first hit each other, then the ground. When the boy tries to lift himself off the ground Zombieman is already there, whipping the back of his hand across Todoroki’s face and sending him falling to the floor for the second time.

Kaminari throws his hands up and shouts something desperately, his words caught by the thunderclap that echoes through the room as he throws out a pure wave of electricity, and Ochako throws herself to the side to avoid getting stunned. Zombieman throws his untouched arm up just a split second before the lightning washes over him, and the ugly smell of burning flesh reaches Ochako’s nose.

When she can see again, Ochako finds Zombieman standing up and perfectly fine as he stares dumbfounded at the now unthinking Kaminari, who grins and puts his thumbs up idiotically.

Deku’s shout brings her back to reality, and Ochako turns to look back at the fight just in time to see Zombieman sidestep a haymaker before bashing his knee into Deku’s gut. The greenette chokes before stumbling and falling to the ground. He moves to get back up, but the pale man is there, drawing his leg back to kick the boy back down.

A net soars through the air and tries to wrap itself around the hero, who takes a step back to avoid getting trapped. Ochako glances over to Shinso, Yaomomo and Jirou, the last of whom places her hands on the floor and her earphones into the strange pods on her wrists. She inhales slightly, before breathing out.

The floor of the arena shatters to a steady pulsing beat, throwing both the man and the boy into the air. Zombieman twists and lands on his feet easily, glaring at the two girls and Shinso, while Deku crashes back onto the floor face-first, groaning as he lies there.

While the hero’s back is turned, Ochako lunges forward, reaching all five fingers out.

A hand slaps hers away, and Zombieman whirls around, driving his foot into her gut. The breath rushes out of her lungs as she falls to the floor, and there’s an ugly crack as she lands on her arm. Her entire right side suddenly goes numb, and she collapses, wheezing for air.

In the distance, she makes out Jiro and Yaomomo desperately firing off attacks, while Shinso begins yelling something. Without listening to what he says, Zombieman bounds forward, dodging the various projectiles that sail past him, and hits Yaomomo with a hook to the jaw. As she crumples to the ground, Shinso seems to have given up on using his Quirk and instead lunges forward with his fist drawn back. Zombieman ducks under the punch before hitting the boy with a brutal uppercut to the stomach, followed by a second uppercut to the chin.

By the time Shinso hits the ground, Zombieman has already swept Jiro’s knees out from under her and sent her tumbling to the ground.

Deku gets up slowly, painfully, looking like he’s barely holding onto consciousness, and poses no resistance when Zombieman strides over and pushes him backwards. The greenette stumbles backwards into the drooling Denki and the two boys collapse to the ground.

Zombieman glances around the arena for a second, before shrugging. He grabs his coat off one of the walls and digs inside a pocket before pulling out a cigarette and a lighter. With his now regenerated arm, he lights the cigarette, before slipping on the coat and nodding towards the stands. “I’ll be going, now.” Mr. Aizawa nods quietly from his spot in the seats, and the pale man walks out the door like nothing happened.

Zombieman has done a lot of things and been to a lot of places, it’s just that none of those things were holding long conversations.

The subway is a lot less crowded than expected, probably due to their final destination, so he and Tsukachi are actually able to sit down and have some personal space. Actually, the only people in their entire train car are the two of them, which he supposes is a good thing. No one around to eavesdrop on the valuable information the detective seems determined to babble out to everyone within a hundred miles.

He holds his hand up to cut off the detective and takes a deep breath. “Okay, so what you’re saying is that the Nomu had the DNA of four different people.”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve gone to three of their families already, while I was doing things for UA.”

“Precisely.”

“And the last family was in Tokyo so you want me to help track them down.”

“Pretty much.”

“Why do you need my help? Doesn’t the government have a database or something even for refugees?”

Tsukachi sighs, glancing out the window. “It’s not that simple. Tokyo is one of the largest cities in the world, and the entire city evacuated. We just don’t have the resources to track where ten million people just suddenly disappeared to. And besides, it’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Zombieman fiddles with the handle of the machete strapped to his back, staring out into the night sky. “Surely you can take a couple of thugs and looters, and run away fast enough when people start screaming bloody murder?”

“It’s not that simple.” The detective slumps down into his seat quietly, shaking his head. “You see, your… cadres? Yeah, cadres. They’ve all disappeared.”

“... What?”

Tsukachi nods grimly. “It’s crazy. The dragon man, the cat, the ninjas, they’re all gone. We haven’t seen them once in almost two weeks after their first appearance. It’s like they just vanished into thin air, but it’s not like they’re completely gone either. There’s evidence that they’ve made appearances just out of sight of all the functional cameras, and we’ve found bodies of criminals, probably trying to loot the city. We can’t see them even with heat sensing.”

The hero doesn’t respond but instead glances out the door, resting his chin on his hand. Memories of blue schematics run through his head, as does the image of a ten year old boy with a backpack and a lollipop, typing doggedly at a computer and saying he couldn’t find anything.

“They pulled something like that in our world.”

Tsukachi stops in the middle of his impromptu speech to stare at his partner. “Pardon?”

“It took an entire week just for one of the smartest people on the planet to find their base. We were in the middle of infiltrating it before we got teleported.” Zombieman itches to take a quick smoke, but the large sign saying ‘No Smoking’ stops him from even moving his hand towards his pocket. “If we don’t know exactly where they are, we can’t attack them out of nowhere. They’d probably be able to fend off anything you throw at them easily enough, especially since it’s only the strongest of them that’re in this world, but it’s still a pain in the ass to fight even fodders if there are enough of them. This way, they can plan their plans in peace without needing to fight us.”

Tsukachi glances at him for a moment before nodding, and the two of them lapse into silence.

To Zombieman’s surprise, it isn’t Tsukachi who breaks the quiet, but the intercom.

“ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS. A VILLAIN HAS BEEN SPOTTED MOVING TOWARDS THIS TRAIN CAR. PLEASE BE WARY AND REMAIN CAUTIOUS OF YOUR SURROUNDINGS.”

The next thing he hears is a loud crashing sound, and something ricochets out of the night sky and crashes into the train car he and Tsukachi are in. The entire subway wobbles slightly as Zombieman leaps up to his feet, unsheathing his machete and flicking it up to guard his front. Behind him, the detective stumbles to a standing position a little more slowly, but Zombieman flicks his hand at him. “Run.”

The creature in front of them picks itself up to its full standing position, or it would have if the roof of the train wasn’t in the way. The exposed brain, the bared fangs and the massive hulking body all make Zombieman grit his teeth as he lunges forward, blade flashing.

The monster roars in pain as metal cuts through skin and draws blood, and it throws up its hands to defend itself. Flames race across its bare skin and Zombieman leaps back to avoid the massive hand swatting at him. He grits his teeth, sheathing his machete. I’m not going to be able to get close enough to do enough damage with this. Dammit, I really didn’t want to use this, I don’t even know if I can find replacement bullets in this world…

The train shakes a little, throwing both the hero and the monster off balance, and Zombieman realizes it’s slowing down. He glances outside, where he sees water reflecting bright white moonlight, and grits his teeth. If nothing else, I can grab Tsukachi and jump in the water later.

The roaring of the beast is enough to bring him back to reality, and he realizes it’s scrambling for a handhold, trying to get free. Its massive bulk is the very thing keeping it from completely destroying the entire subway and Zombieman with it, and the hero knows it. Gritting his teeth, he curls his fingers, does his best to form them into claws, before stabbing them into his chest.

For a brief moment his skin holds, before rupturing. His hands shatter through his own ribs before his fingers lock around something much more solid than bone. As blood pumps out onto the ground, he whips the gun out of his chest and carefully takes aim, before pulling down on the trigger.

The gun kicks back hard, and his bones shatter as the bullet leaves the chamber, but the pale man doesn’t care. Just grits his teeth into a snarling smirk as he watches an inferno wash over the creature hunched in front of him, far outdoing the embers that burn on its forearms, and the following shower of ashes.

Two bullets left.

When he whirls around Tsukachi is staring with his jaw slack again. As the bones of his broken arm clack back into place, Zombieman waves at his partner. “We gotta go.”

The detective blinks, before nodding furiously. “There might be more Nomu, we’ll have to hurry. The train’s stopped, but I don’t think we’re too far from the station.”

The hero glances up at the roof over his head, before unsheathing his machete. Two slashes are enough to shatter the plastic ceiling, and he vaults out easily, throwing a hand towards Tsukachi. “We’re running.”

As the detective clambers onto the top of the train car, Zombieman stiffens, whips his head around at the sound of a regular thumping, of something slapping against a flat surface. He holds out his gun again, shifts his aim a little bit as his ears take in the sounds of danger, and fires.

One bullet left.

Another Nomu, suddenly bursting out of the night, falls to cinders. The hero sheathes his blade again, slips off the top of the train, and begins to run. Behind him, he can hear Tsukachi’s shouts and the detective’s following footsteps.

They’re on a bridge, not high above water, and he can see mainland not far away; maybe a hundred or so meters to a dimly lit station. Beyond that he can make out buildings, but he’s not sure; no lights are on, and the only things his eyes can make out in the darkness are huge, towering rectangles he assumes are skyscrapers.

He jogs slowly with his gun held out in front of him, eyes scanning the little he can see, and he wishes he’d brought a flashlight. I have to be careful about this, I can’t waste my last bullet. If I do, I’ll have to actually fight, and if that happens Tsukachi might get caught in the crossfire.

As he nears the station, his eyes focus on a hulking shape in the shadows, and without hesitation or any regard for his thoughts of just a few seconds ago, he fires immediately. The brief shock of light from his shot is enough for him to see the Nomu go down, and he gets a little bit of satisfaction from that.

What he doesn’t get satisfaction from is the realization that there’s a second Nomu right behind it, charging right at him.

Shit.

Zombieman doesn’t have the time to unsheathe his blade before the monster rams into him, sending him flying. Past experience tells him that the cracking in his chest means his ribs are shattered, and he reflexively spits so the blood can leave his mouth quickly. He’s thrown off the narrow bridge and into the water, forcing himself to maintain a close grip on his gun even as he does so. The cold water hits him harder than the monster did, and as he gasps for air, his eyes lock on desperately to the monster sprinting right at Tsukachi, fangs bared and claws curled. The detective is fumbling to take out his own handgun, but there’s no way he’ll be fast enough to protect himself.

Shit!

For a second, everything seems to go still as a blue light whispers through the night sky. A single streak of neon blue buzzes lazily towards the monster before sharpening, beginning to curl and wave, then shatter, multiply, coil like a dragon.

When it hits the monster, it’s like a tidal wave, unrelenting and uncaring, crushing the Nomu without any respite, smashing it into the ground then through the ground, shearing it into halves, then quarters, then sixteenths, then a million tiny pieces. By the time the monster hits the water, it’s nothing but a pile of gore mutilated far beyond recognition.

Zombieman knows that attack.

He grips the track for a single second before hoisting himself back onto firm land, making sure he’s still holding onto his weapons. As Tsukachi falls backwards onto his butt and stares in shock, the newcomer folds their hands behind their back and smiles benignly, though it can’t be seen well under a bushy white beard.

That smile melts to surprise once the old man in a black shirt and white pants glances over to Zombieman, who crosses his arms and tilts his head out of wonder. The pale man blinks as another figure steps out quietly from the darkness, one that stands easily head and shoulders above everyone there. Three familiar scars lash themselves across an eye, and a quiet thumping can be heard dying down.

For once, Zombieman takes it upon himself to break the silence. “Fancy seeing you two here.”

“Never would have dreamed of it.” Silverfang tilts his head as a welcome smile graces his wrinkled face, and behind him, the strongest man in the world nods quietly and crosses his arms.

Chapter Text

50 units sent out. It is probable not a single one will return safely, but that’s all fine. I got what I wanted, after all.

With all the lights of Tokyo shattered and broken, the night wraps around him like a cloak. It won’t shield him from searching eyes but it offers protection from a passing glance, obscuring his grotesquely massive left arm.

The world forgot about the Symbol of Evil after finding their shiny new villains in the men that destroyed Tokyo. Let them remember who they really should be scared of when they find the bodies of their heroes tomorrow, mutilated and Quirkless.

All For One smirks as he opens the palm of his hand, which buzzes with a newfound power that was never there before. I’ll sacrifice all my Nomus if it means another day like today. Twenty new Quirks and twenty incapacitated heroes, all before the sun even thinks about rising.

I’m stronger now. So strong that I could probably take on ten full-strength All Mights and win.

He bares his teeth in the semblance of a grin, before tensing up. Blindness has sharpened his ears to take in and sense every single noise around him, to the point where he can almost see with his hearing, and that sense tells him now that there’s something behind him.

No footsteps. Either it’s not human or it’s a Mutant. Sounds like splashing… this must be a liquid Mutant. I wonder, if I took its Quirk, how fast would it die--

He dives to the side instantly, but it’s not fast enough to escape the pain that jets across his side and slashes through his enlarged arm. Goddammit, it’s fast!

“Pure Sight.” The moment he spits out the name of the Quirk, vision returns to him, and he glares at his attacker as he struggles to his feet, gingerly raising his fists. He grits his teeth, stares down the monster in front of him.

What the hell is this?!

A solid mass of water towers up above him, two eyes staring down quietly. Piranhas swim in the midst of the massive puddle, and several toothpick-like jets of water hover calmly in midair.

It’s part of the group that took over Tokyo.

“Air Cannon. Springlike Limbs. Kinetic Booster. Hypertrophy. Recreate.” Each Quirk whirls to life the moment he spits their names, and he raises his fists, grimaces as he stares down his opponent.

A split second before he dashes forward, two streams of water shoot out at his face, and he barely manages to duck them. Pain flashes through his knee, and he roars as the third ‘claw’ exits his leg. Blood pours down to the ground, and he dives to the side to avoid another barrage.

Recreate takes thirty seconds to heal all my wounds. I have to hide.

He ducks behind a wall, tripping over his wounded leg, and grinds his teeth together, clutching at his leg. Goddammit, this thing’s fast. It’s going to be a pain in the ass until I actually hit i--

His ears tingle and he barely manages to duck before jets of water cut through the brick wall, slashing through the space he was just in. The Symbol of Evil gapes for a second before diving back into sight from behind the wall. It’s strong!

The water villain cocks more of its ‘claws’ at him, and All For One grits his teeth. Goddamn you!

Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. I can only fight.

“Ultimate Quirk Combination!” His already swollen arm expands more grotesquely, and black tendrils begin to snake their way out of his skin. He grits his teeth as a rush of energy flashes through his flesh, and he draws his arm back.

A weapon fit to kill All Might himself. Let’s see how you take this.

More jets of water fire at him, and he lunges to the side before bouncing forward. The eyes in the water glare down at him, and he draws his hand back, clenches his fingers. Three streams slash through his shoulder and he winces, before baring his teeth and throwing a haymaker.

Water splatters all over the place as his fist crashes through liquid, and he grits his teeth as tiny teeth dig themselves into his thighs and calves. A single swat easily crushes the piranhas, and he swings back around to survey his handiwork.

Pure Sight’s going to run out on me in a few seconds, so I have to make sure it’s really down--

As he turns around, his eyes widen, taking in the sight in front of him like a snapshot.

The water man swirls back to life right in front of him, towering higher and higher than before. ‘Claws’ wave menacingly, and the two eyes look calm and unperturbed. It’s as if it was never hit at all.

Distantly, he can feel a raindrop hit his forehead as his vision flickers out.

“Infrared!”

The Quirk tells him the mass of water in front of him is beginning to rise, to grow, to ready another piercing attack. Another drop rolls down the side of his head, but this time he’s not sure if it’s from the skies or himself.

For the first time in his life, the Symbol of Evil turns tail and begins to run in fear. He grits his teeth as he sprints down the roads of a shattered and broken Tokyo, and takes just a second to look down at himself and think how pathetic he is.

The Symbol of Evil, running from another villain. Who could have imagined.

Twenty Quirks is nowhere near enough. It’s not about defeating All Might anymore, it’s about asserting myself as the most dangerous man in the world once more. I have to go farther than just that blond annoyance.

The world will know the name of All For One once more. That, I promise.

At first, King thought he’d have to put on the tough guy act and have to look terrifyingly charismatic the entire time. After all, these are people who don’t know anything about the ‘strongest man in the world’; they’d probably ask to see him fight or something, and he has to avoid that at all costs.

But really, the poor rat in front of him is sweating way too hard to bust his cover.

To be fair, King knows he looks terrifying. He’s a good four inches taller than the already fairly tall Zombieman, has impressive bulk for a shut-in otaku, a calm and stoic face, and of course, the King Engine, as well as the three scars across his left eye. If he just glares at one person for a prolonged period of time and crosses his arms, that person better have balls of steel or else they’re going to be scared.

But even taking that into account, the mouse thing looks way too scared.

He glances over at Zombieman, noting the smug grin on his coworker’s face, and purses his lips a little. What the hell did this guy do?

“S-so, uh, Misters… King and Silverfang?” The rat principal - Nezu? - trembles slightly as he folds his hands and tries to look impressive. “I see both of you must be quite powerful, if you are heroes respected by the likes of Mr. Zombieman.”

“Call me Bang.” Next to him, the old man raises a hand, a gentle smile below his bushy silver mustache.

“Uh… right… Mr. Bang.” Nezu purses his lips before sighing. “I suppose I may as well offer you a teaching spot at this institution?”

“Huh?”

Shit, how am I supposed to bullshit my way out of this one?!

“You see, our school, UA, is a school for young heroes. What with all the monsters from your world, we can’t rely on our teachers. We’ve been using the other heroes from your world in order to train our students to be able to fight your monsters, and I must ask, can you help us too?”

“I must refuse.” King stumbles over his words as he spits them out almost immediately, and closes his eyes to calm down. “I do not believe I am fit to teach anyone anything, nor do I think anyone can learn from me.”

Take that how you will.

Next to him, Silverfang chuckles quietly. “I suppose one would find it difficult to learn from the great King. I would personally be curious to see how he fights, but that may simply be too much to ask.”

“Yeah, can’t have you pulling out any of that moon-destroying shit here. Or back home, for that matter.” Zombieman leans back on the wall casually, shifting the cigarette in his mouth from one side to the other.

Opening his eyes again, the blond man finds the little rat in front of him is sweating rivers, eyes darting nervously from hero to hero. Nezu seems to be at a loss for words, and King begins to feel a little bad for him.

“For my part, I would love to teach self-defense classes. I am the master of the Fist of Flowing Water Crushing Rock, and I haven’t had many students in quite some time. In fact, I’ve been looking for students for quite some time now.” Silverfang cuts through the silence, smiling genially at the principal, who stares up at him gratefully. “If you could find willing students, I would be more than happy to teach.”

Right, he was complaining about not having enough students. Something about that Garou dude having chased the others off.

Wait, but now that I think about it…

“Are there any other heroes from our world here?” King glances over at Zombieman, who raises his eyebrows. “You mentioned there were teachers, plural, instead of just Zombieman, right?”

“Yeah, there’s Metal Bat, Demon Cyborg, this one B class guy. I doubt you’d know who he is, but he’s pretty strong.” Zombieman spits the cigar out of his mouth, catching it out of the air and tossing it into a nearby trash can in a single smooth motion. “They’re on their way here.”

B Class? Wait…

King closes his eyes again and heaves a sigh, opening his mouth to speak, before he hears the door slam open.

The first thing he sees when he opens his eyes and turns around is light glinting off metal. Specifically, a baseball bat coated in metal and resting on the shoulder of a teenager, whose pompadour and school uniform combine to form the shining image of a delinquent. At his side, a little girl in a skirt tugs at his hand, glaring up at him slightly as if to catch his attention. Both Metal Bat and Zenko’s eyes widen when they spot the two S Class. The teen whistles and the little girl’s mouth forms an O, before they slide out of the way.

Behind them, more metal glints off the obsidian black arms of a cyborg, whose cold golden eyes scan the room in a heartbeat before settling on King and Silverfang. A smile graces the Demon Cyborg’s cold, robotic face before he turns around to glance at the man behind him.

This time, light doesn’t glint off of metal, but rather skin. The third man to walk through the door is rather unimpressive compared to the previous two, dressed simply in a t-shirt and jeans, with his hands shoved in his pockets. His eyes are as blank as the smooth, hairless top of his head, and he has a small, bored sulk playing with his lips.

“Ah, Saitama.” “Oh, hey there, Saitama.” King starts when his voice clashes with Silverfang’s, and the two heroes glance at each other in surprise. Zombieman and Metal bat jerk their heads up in surprise, jaws dropping, and Genos smirks slightly.

“Hey, King. Hey, old man Bang.” The bald man picks at his ear with his pinky finger, glancing at the two new arrivals boredly. He leans back against a wall and raises his almost nonexistent eyebrows. “You guys here too?”

“Looks like it.” King shrugs, leaning back onto his chair. He clears his throat slightly, folds his arms again, and sighs. Everyone save Saitama glances at him nervously, as if wondering what the stoic blond man could possibly be thinking.

THANK GOD I’M SAVED HOLY CRAP I JUST HAVE TO STICK AROUND SAITAMA NOW I DON’T HAVE TO TRICK EVERYONE TWICE AS MUCH GODDAMMIT IT WAS HARD ENOUGH ALREADY I DON’T WANT TO PISS MY PANTS WHILE FIGHTING SOME GODDAMN VILLAIN WHO DOESN’T EVEN “KNOW” WHO I AM THIS IS THE LUCKIEST MOMENT OF MY LIFE AND THAT’S SAYING SOMETHING--

“Wait, you know each other?” Zombieman breaks the silence as he glances between the baldy and the S Class hero with a confused look on his face. His eyes are slitted and his mouth is opened slightly, probably without him knowing.

“I wanted to have Saitama be one of my students.” Silverfang sits back in his chair with a heavy sigh, as if to reminisce. “I invited him over several times for dinner, though I never managed to convince him to join.”

“Why didn’t you accept…?”

“I dunno man, it seemed pretty boring.” Saitama shrugs slightly, glancing apologetically at the old man. “Didn’t really think I’d need it at all, so I just didn’t bother learning from him.”

Zombieman looks even more confused, but shakes his head anyways. “Okay, well, how do you know King?”

“We just chill and play video games with each other.”

King smirks slightly, unfolding his arms to raise his pointer fingers towards the skies. “This guy sucks, I beat him with two fingers. Flawlessed.”

“That’s because it was a shitty game!” A vein bulges on the bald man’s head as he stamps his foot on the floor repeatedly. “The controller didn’t do anything I wanted it to do!”

“Yeah, okay, button-masher.”

“Damn you, just because you beat me 81 times in a row doesn’t mean you get bragging rights! I had to punch that ugly-ass centipede to calm down!”

“Wait, sensei, that was why you were so angry when we fought Elder Centipede?”

“Wait, you beat that fucking bastard?”

“Wait, who’s Elder Centipede?”

Voices are suddenly thrown around the room, throwing the previous calm out the window and spitting on its corpse. King sighs, closing his eyes as the words grab hold of memories and hoist them up to the front of his thoughts.

“One at a time, please. I am sure Nezu here must be confused.” Silverfang waves his hands in the air, catching everyone’s attention, and slowly, the tranquil silence restores itself. The mouse-thing nods furiously, glancing gratefully at the old man. “First, do you have any questions, Mr. Nezu?”

“Uh, who’s Elder Centipede?”

“A centipede the size of a city.” Metal Bat shrugs as he glances down at Zenko, rustling her hair. “It was pretty damn tough, I couldn’t even dent the bastard. I heard it got taken out, but I thought King did. Not him.”

“I was too lazy to change it. Besides, King was the one that lured it in, anyways.” Saitama makes his actions sound like it wasn’t a big deal, but King can clearly recall the sheer terror he’d felt when the city-cized monster had lunged at him headfirst, and he remembers the pure power that was put into a blow that cleanly disintegrated what was at least one or two thousand meters of pure muscle and armor.

“Damn.” Zenko swats at her brother’s hand and glares at him, drawing a chuckle from the S Class hero. “Why didn’t you just do it yourself, King?”

“Saitama needed to let off some steam after losing to me 81 times in a row in Street Fighter.” The blond man shrugs, jerking his head over at the baldy, who waves his fist in the air angrily. “Thought it would be a good opportunity to settle that.”

That’s actually the truth, I actually did think it would be a good way to calm Saitama down. It’s just that that wasn’t my only reason for making him beat Elder Centipede for me.

“O-okay.” Nezu shakes his head as if taking everything in, and glances over at the two newcomers. “So uh, Mr. Bang? You said you would be fine with teaching?”

“I’d like my own class for myself, if that would be possible.” The old man grins as if reminiscing, and the principal nods slowly.

“I’ll try to arrange that. So, uh, I guess you two can stay with those five at their dorm for now?” Nezu sighs, putting his head down on the table, and waves them away. “That’s all I have to say. Thank you for listening to me.”

When he wakes up, he has no idea where he is.

His head pounds, and he winces, raising up his left hand to feel at his head, glancing around his surroundings as he does so. A hospital… seems like I’ve been here for a while? There’s one of those machine things over there, the curtains are drawn…

Why am I here?

When nothing touches his forehead, he frowns. That’s weird. I definitely raised my hand…

He looks down at where his arm should be, and finds nothing.

There’s nothing but a stump of flesh, bandaged neatly and cleaned. He blinks, flexing what he feels like should be his fingers, and nothing moves in response. He raises the whole of his arm up and down, and the stump moves, but the rest of his missing arm that should be there doesn’t move at all.

He stares down at his arm vacantly, before it hits him like a truck. The reason he’s even in the hospital in the first place.

Enji Todoroki’s eyes widen, and his head bolts up. He glances around wildly, before finding a newspaper folded up on his right. It’s rough and crinkled, like someone’s sat there for a long time reading. He reaches over and grabs at it with his remaining hand, flicking it open and staring at the headlines.

Tokyo destroyed! Strange villains kill tens of thousands in a matter of hours!

The newspaper drops onto his lap softly, and Endeavor, the number two hero in all of Japan, second only to All Might, stares blankly with no idea what to do.

“Alright, well this is Mr. Silverfang, apparently he’s with, uh, Zombieman and Metal Bat and them.” Aizawa drawls lazily, arms crossed and looking like he just woke up from a nap. “He’s going to be teaching you guys with the rest of them.”

If there’s one thing Ochako’s learned from the Hero Course, it’s that she should never take things for granted. After all, Mr. Aizawa looks more like a shut-in than a hero, and Metal Bat doesn’t look like he should be able to defeat villains as strong as All Might.

But the old man that stands in front of the class, back hunched slightly and hands folded behind him, seems far too harmless to be a hero.

It’s not just the fact that he has snow white hair or a wrinkled and weathered face; she’s seen plenty of older heroes in action. But unlike those heroes, he’s not exactly tall; while the old man isn’t short either, he’s just a little taller than average and his clothes are baggy enough that they hide whatever muscle could be underneath. There’s grandfatherly kindness in his eyes instead of the cold determination she sees in that of heroes, and the small smile stretching under his large, bushy mustache doesn’t help matters either.

“Hey, who do you think the old dude is?” Evidently the other students have the same thoughts, because Kaminari’s whisper meets a couple confused shrugs. Is this guy even a hero?

“Hello, everyone.” The old man smiles at the class, and Ochako can’t help but see him as her own grandfather. “My name is Silverfang, and I am the number four hero back in my own universe.”

Immediately, whispers begin to swirl around the room, some of them shocked and some of them suspicious.

“Number Four? Isn’t Metal Bat like 13 or 15 or something?”

“What the heck is this guy going to do?”

“I’m still not convinced he’s an actual hero.”

“Oy, shut up. Don’t disrespect Silverfang.” Metal Bat taps his bat against the ground at the back of the room, and instantly everyone goes quiet. Everyone stares at the teen, who glares right back at them. “He’d beat your asses any day of the week with both hands tied behind his back.”

The only thing anyone can hear in the room is Deku’s pencil scribbling furiously across his notebook, at least until someone raises their voice.

“Well, uh, could he beat you?” Everyone whirls around and stares at Yaomomo, who flinches a little bit but stays firm.

Metal Bat snorts. “Yeah, any day of the week.”

“What would happen if you fought him right now?”

“What, you want a demonstration?” Metal Bat hefts his bat onto his shoulder, glaring at the class. “Mr. Silverfang, wanna spar?”

“It would be my pleasure.” Silverfang gives a small bow, before sweeping his arm around as if to invite him closer.

For the first time, Ochako realizes the field they’re standing on has a large white circle drawn on it, as if to signify a fighting ring. Unconsciously, she takes a step back and tightens her fists.

Metal Bat steps up to face Silverfang, who moves his hands so that one of his palms point straight forward and the other towards his chest. The delinquent, on the other hand, grabs his bat with both hands and winds up as if to swing. The old man is completely relaxed and fine, while the teen is gritting his teeth, looking all tense.

For a second, the two just stand there, staring at each other, daring each other to make the first move. Metal Bat purses his lips, before exhaling deeply as if he’s decided on something. The delinquent takes a single step before bouncing forward, swinging the bat towards the old man’s head.

So fast!

A shade of blue the color of the sea flashes through the air, crashing into the bat, bouncing it to the side. The bat misses the old man, instead hitting the ground far away from him, leaving the teen wide open.

The blue light flows through the air, streaming towards Metal Bat, and only now does Ochako realize they’re coming from Silverfang’s fingers.

Wait, this looks familiar-

Metal Bat is bodily lifted up off the ground, the air punched out of his gut as the old man jabs his fists forward, face growing cold and determined. Silverfang only hits him three times, but it’s enough to toss the delinquent back several steps. The teen hits the ground hard, gasping for air, but he springs to his feet quickly enough, swaying slightly as he raises his bat again.

Metal Bat snarls, stepping forward slowly, before rushing forward again, swinging wildly. This time he’s even faster and stronger than before, and Ochako can barely follow his movements with her eyes. The glinting of the sun is the only thing that tells her his bat is moving at all.

This time, the stream of blue crushes past the bat and into Metal Bat himself, forcing him upwards. The blows are faster and stronger than before, and this time Silverfang doesn’t let the teen hit the ground, instead keeping him up in the air as he pummels away at the delinquent.

It’s an unrelenting tidal wave, stopping just short of slicing steel, shattering bones and drawing blood.

When Metal Bat finally falls to the ground, Silverfang hasn’t moved a single step from where he started.

The old man moves his feet back together and bows to his opponent. “Thank you for the help.”

For a single second, everyone goes quiet, seeing the hero as strong as All Might down and out at the hands of an old man. An old man who didn’t even get hurt, for that matter.

Then the shouting begins.

“Yo what the hell?”

“How did he do that?!”

“I want to learn how to do that!”

Ochako winces, covering up her ears, as pandemonium erupts.

It’s noisy. What an inconvenience. Saitama just wants to eat his snack.

On the sidelines, from the bleachers, he can clearly see most of the class surrounding the old man, clamoring for attention. The old man seems overwhelmed, but at least he seems happy.

Maybe he’ll stop bugging me about joining his dojo. That would be nice.

Wait no, then he’ll stop trying to bribe me with hotpot.

Shit, is this a good thing or a bad thing?

“Zenko, I’m fine, you know I’ve taken worse.”

“Big bro, you passed out!”

“I’m not dead.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re okay!”

Metal Bat, who woke up a few minutes ago, sits a little below him, trying to make his little sister understand that he’s actually fine and doesn’t need to see a doctor. They’re good kids, taking good care of each other. Saitama hopes they’ll continue to have good things done for them.

On the outskirts of the arena, the few who don’t seem convinced that they want to take the old man’s class sit around, looking thoughtful. There’s only two of them; one of them’s the short greenette with the notebook, and the other one’s…

Saitama stands up, jogs down the bleachers, drops down to the field. He tosses the last potato chip into his mouth, then the wrapper into a nearby trash can, and walks over to the brunette watching her fellow students. “You aren’t going to take the old man’s class?”

Uraraka starts, before turning around with a tired grin. “Nah.”

“Why not? It would be a good learning experience.” Saitama crosses his arms, stares at the old man who seems so harmless now. “I know when I was first training, I would really have appreciated knowing the techniques Bang has. Would have saved me some hospital bills.”

The girl sighs, slumping a little. “I just got kinda used to your training thing, Mr. Saitama… if I did that too, I think I’d be basically dead.”

“Fair.” The bald man nods, gives her a small smile. “Well then, let’s get you to the point where you can do both without breaking a sweat.”

She grins up at him, shooting him a thumbs up. “For sure.”

“Would you be the Hero Hunter?”

“You got me. Got a problem with it, misty man?”

“I have a… proposition you might find interesting.”

“I’ve brought the Hero Hunter, young master.”

“Good.” The weird kid with the hands glares at him, crossing his arms. The smoke guy walks across the room to stand by the kid’s side, and crosses his arms as well.

It would be a lot more intimidating if the two of them weren’t all bandaged and looked absolutely ridiculous.

First, he takes a look around his surroundings.

The room is comfortably small and with a serene atmosphere coming from the soft glow of the lights placed here and there. There’s a bar, with stools placed neatly in front of it, which is probably why Purple Gas Man has a bartender’s outfit on. There’s a door behind him, meaning if he wants to he can easily leave at any time.

Hand Kid looks confident enough, but his hands are trembling softly and his teeth are gritted. The way his fingers flutter through the air probably means his Quirk --or whatever it’s called-- is hand-based. Not much of a problem, then.

Purple Gas Man was the one that teleported him to this place. Shouldn’t be too much of a problem if all he can do is make portals. Next.

There’s a man and a girl sitting at the bar, and they seem a bit more interesting than the two standing. The man seems to have some of his skin ripped off, with purple spots --fabric?-- stitched back on, forming a disgusting Frankenstein of a man. A smile somehow calm and crazy at the same time etches itself across his tattered and broken mouth, and his hands drum at the bar. On the outside, he appears to be the epitome of calm and uncaring, but the way he glances behind him makes it too obvious he’s itching for a fight. Probably to be taken more seriously than the first two, since this one isn’t trying to avoid a confrontation.

The girl on the other hand is staring at him intensely, a disgusting smirk etched on her face. Her eyes glance up and down the length of his body, ogling him through his tight-fitting and half-shredded clothes. Blond hair tied into buns, feline golden eyes, school outfit, pretty face, age close to his own; none of that interests him as much as the knife she’s toying with, and the large, square pouch in front of her.

It creeps him out.

Garou smirks and folds his arms as well. “The fuck do you want?”

“Join us.” Hand Boy spits out those two words carelessly and confidently, as if he’s sure he’ll always get what he wants. There’s too much confidence in his eyes, too much arrogance in his grin, and that pisses Garou off.

“At least tell me what you want first. Don’t you know how to talk to grown-ups?” Rage immediately flares up in the kid’s eyes and he uncrosses his arms, clenches his fists, but manages to control himself.

“We’re the League of Villains.”

“The fuck is that?” Garou snorts, glancing around the room slowly. Purple Gas Man looks uncertain but has his fingers clawed; Frankenstein has turned all the way around to face him, a sadistic smile playing at his lips; Knife Girl coos slightly, disgusting him even more.

“We’re the ones who’re going to tear down heroes one by one. We’re going to kill All Might, and take down law and order with it. Since you have the same goals as we do, join us and help us destroy the heroes.”

Wow.

How…

Disgusting.

He snorts, then chuckles, and it’s only a matter of time before he’s thrown his head back and begins laughing loudly. The four stiffen, stare at him confusedly, and he can sense them raising their weapons for a fight.

“So you’re those kinds of pathetic little shits.” Garou bares his teeth, hunching over slightly before drawing his hands around behind his back. He moves his wrists so that one of his palms point straight forward and the other towards his chest, deepening his stance and adjusting his center of gravity. “Too bad for you, I’m not trying to kill heroes; that’s just a nice bonus.”

“Then what do you want?” For the first time in a while, Purple Gas Man speaks, voice quiet and tense. The Hero Hunter chuckles, eyes scanning the room as he makes his plan, waits for the moment to strike.

“I want to be absolute evil.”

He can almost hear the surprise running through the minds of his listeners, and tenses slightly in preparation.

“And for that, I can’t have any competition from little annoyances like you four.”

A moment of silence.

The first to strike is Frankenstein Man. Blue fire flashes through the air, splashing towards the Hero Hunter. He swats it aside, snorting. Nothing compared to the monster king. You can’t hurt me with that.

His ears prick up and his fists flash through the air, knocking down the knives that soar at him from behind the flames. He glares at Knife Girl, whose eyebrows rise and lips form an O.

A motion from his left, and without turning he whips his leg out, catching Hand Boy in the chin, bowling him all the way back to where he came. The other three freeze and stare at their fallen leader, -- is that kid a leader? -- leaving themselves wide open.

If he wanted to, Garou would have slaughtered all of them and moved on by now.

He snorts, standing back up as he casually waves aside another knife. “Well, I guess I have to know how strong my ‘competition’s’ going to be. What have you even done so far?”

“We’ve attacked UA. We wounded All Might. And damn you, you’re next.” Hand Boy’s threat would probably be a lot more intimidating if he wasn’t curled up in the fetal position and gasping for air. Garou snorts.

“If I’m here and those monster fuckers are here, then that means heroes are probably here too. If you only hurt this All Might dude, then you’re clearly not going to get anywhere.” He turns to leave, before pausing, throwing his head back.

He deliberately raises his voice, so that the four can hear him. “Say, I wonder when the thirty or so heroes I’ve hunted will wake up to tell the world that they were hunted by Garou?”

And with that, he opens the door and walks out.

Chapter Text

Crime ravages every place humanity touches. For every benevolent person, there will be a specter of evil, ready to prey upon the weak. Without anyone to help, without anyone to defend against them, villains and monsters will always reign supreme.

That is why the defenders of humanity are cherished, no matter what shape or size they are.

A single scream echoes through the night sky before being torn in half, cut short before it could even begin. In the middle of chaos, in the midst of a crowd of pushing, screaming, running people, a single hulking figure throws his head back and roars with laughter. “Too easy, too easy!”

The villain towers several heads taller than everyone around him, and muscles ripple across his figures as he throws a punch into the middle of the sky, as if to copy All Might. A black skin-tight suit is stretched tightly over a powerful frame, and short-cropped dark hair bobs slightly on a massive scarred head. Cruel eyes gleam and lips curl up into the semblance of a smile as a massive hand paws the ground, where several costumed figures are thrown about, lying motionless. When nails scratch against the concrete, cracks spiderweb across the ground and the sidewalk shatters slightly.

High above, several helicopters whirl around helplessly, cameras aimed at the villain below, who glances up at them before cackling again. It’s almost as if all the world has its eyes on this moment, like all of Japan holds its breath to wait for the hero who will eventually defeat this monster.

All Might? Still recovering from a battle with a powerful villain several weeks ago. Endeavor? Just woke up after the attack on Tokyo. The other top heroes? Some are dead, some are missing, and some are wounded. None of them are available.

Yet sending in anyone weaker is unthinkable, as testified by the mangled bodies of countless rookie heroes at the feet of the villain.

No one spots him at first, moving through the dust, sweeping towards the villain. He’s nothing but a shadow in the middle of the day, a figure in a long coat that whispers towards the carnage.

The villain whirls around at the sound of footsteps, blinking silently as he takes in the next hero that dares oppose him, before smirking. “And who the hell are you supposed to be? Well, it doesn’t matter, the coroner can figure that out for me!”

Wrapped in a tan coat that stretches down to his knees, a single man brandishes an axe wordlessly. Pale skin contrasts harshly with pitch black hair, emphasizing sharp, cold red eyes that glare silently at the target. In spite of the massive man in front of him, there’s no fear in his gaze, only a passive fury and cold contempt.

For all his cockiness, the villain hesitates when the hero doesn’t hesitate at all, leaning back slightly. The man’s eyes narrow before he smashes his fists together, a leer echoing on his face. “You better last long enough to be good entertainment!”

“Oh hey, that’s Zombieman there.”

The S Class are sprawled across sofas in their dorm, staring at the TV in front of them. Genos sits up straight, a notebook out and pencil scribbling, while the other four all recline back into their seats, almost lying down, staring lazily at the screen. Zenko hums quietly as she curls her hands through her older brother’s hair, while said older brother smiles affectionately but remains still.

On the screen, several phrases scroll across the bottom, but the one that catches eyes is “The Villain Antaeus escapes prison after Tokyo’s destruction.”

“I am curious to see the reactions to his… techniques.” Genos’s pencil stops for a second and he brings his head back up, eyes fixed on the screen in front of him. “These people do not appear to be the best at handling blood.”

“I betcha some of those kids’re gonna piss their pants at least twice.” The delinquent smirks as he waves a hand, being met with nods of agreement. “If there’s a movie or video game that can prepare you for that, I’d like to see it.”

Bang chuckles, glancing over at the younger heroes. “From what I have seen, they’re not squeamish, but at the same time none of them would want to watch this either. I suppose Kirishima would end up idolizing Zombieman, but otherwise they would probably be traumatized.”

“To be fair he could win without getting hurt at all.” Saitama yawns as he leans back into his chair, sinking into the cushions and shrugging his shoulders. “But probably no--”

“You’re a genius, sensei!” Genos’s scribbling intensifies as everyone glances at each other and rolls their eyes. Even Zenko snorts quietly before she goes back to messing with her brother.

“Anyways, let’s make a bet: how many times is he gonna ‘die’?” Said brother sinks further into the sofa and leans his head back so he’s staring at his little sister. “I bet five.”

“His opponent seems decently strong, so I’d say around seven.” King shrugs from his spot on the couch where he fiddles with a handheld console.

Saitama perks up immediately. “What King said.”

“Then I shall put my faith in Zombieman and say three.” As Bang muses quietly in the corner, Metal Bat smirks and moves himself to a position where he can watch the TV.

“Alright then, let’s see.”

“Wait, that’s Mr. Zombieman on the news.”

The moment the words leave Kaminari’s mouth, the entirety of Class 1-A is clustered around the TV, gawking at the sight in front of them. The axe-wielding hero slides quietly into view, sliding slowly out of the dust. As the villain begins to hurl insults, whispers begin to echo around the room.

“I’m interested to see Mr. Zombieman in combat.” Yaomomo yawns as she rests her head on her hands, staring pointedly at the screen. “He seems to be a regenerating type, but that’s not exactly anything special; Recovery Girl can heal herself and other people too, right?”

“Yeah, well, he’s buff.” Everyone turns to glance quietly at Mina, who just shrugs. “What? I’m not wrong.”

“That’s quite a good point, actually, he is very muscular. But I don’t see how that would compare to someone like All Might, especially considering his bulk is nowhere similar to All Might. And yet he is said to be ranked higher than Metal Bat?” With his arms crossed, Iida puts one hand to his chin and purses his lips. Gears can almost be seen turning inside his head.

“Shut up and watch, fucker.” For once, everyone takes Bakugo’s advice and quiets down to stare at the TV.

“You better last long enough to be good entertainment!” With that, the villain lunges at the hero, fist straight back. Zombieman slips to the side a split second before the blow connects, and the hulking criminal is sent tumbling far beyond his target. Without a word, the pale man slashes his axe across his opponent’s back, earning a pained roar. He bounces back to avoid a wild swing, and grips the weapon in both hands as he stares down the furious villain.

“Antaeus.” Deku’s voice is quiet, but everyone looks over to him anyway. He blushes a little, even more so when Ochako nudges him quietly, but keeps talking. “One of the toughest villains of all time, maybe, uh, fifth strongest in all of Japan’s history? It took a combined effort from Endeavor and All Might to take him down, because he was just so freaking strong… Quirk gives him superstrength, superspeed, increased tenacity, increased regeneration and toughened skin?”

“So what you’re saying is that he’s going to be a bitch to fight.” Bakugo exhales and uncrosses his arms, glaring grimly at the screen. “Corpse Man better put up a good fig--”

With a roar, Antaeus swings his fist, and it catches Zombieman in the face. Everyone freezes as the hero’s upper body explodes into a mess of flesh and blood, while his lower body stumbles a bit. The villain stares confusedly for a second before bursting into laughter and spinning around to glare at the camera helicopter. “HAH! You sent out your men to die?! The audacity of the hero indu--”

Every student in class 1-A inhales sharply when they see a shadow looming up behind the villain, hands clasped around an axe and held above his head. Antaeus’s eyes widen and he whirls around just fast enough to dodge the strike, but he’s forced to dive aside to avoid a follow-up attack. The villain stares in confusion and horror at the man in front of him, whose unformed flesh bubbles and erupts to reform itself into the shape of a man. A head explodes out of the mess of flesh, and when he regains his eyes the first thing Zombieman does is glare at the villain. “What a pain in the ass.”

For a second, the room is silent before exploding into sound.

“What the fuck?!”

“That was disgusting, I’m going to lock myself up in the bathroom. Blech…”

“How did he do that?!”

Ochako stares wordlessly at the screen, jaw hanging. She’s distantly aware of Deku doing the same next to her, but what matters more is the event on the news.

How, why, and what. How did that happen, why did that happen, and what the hell did I just see.

What.

Her brain doesn’t work at all.

Antaeus takes a step back, grimacing, before seeming to steel himself and roaring as he charges the hero. Zombieman only holds up the axe, bracing himself for impact, before lashing out. A second gash rips itself across the villain’s chest and the man roars, but it doesn’t stop him from swinging a wild haymaker that explodes through the hero’s head, raining down blood everywhere. The body only continues swinging, undeterred, and the villain is forced to stumble backwards, continuously howling in pain as the axe rips and tears through flesh and bone without remorse. By the time Antaeus manages to separate himself from the hero, Zombieman has regained his head and the villain has almost completely lost his arms.

“What the FUCK are you?!” The man voices what’s on everyone’s minds, but the undead hero doesn’t provide an answer, instead choosing to advance silently. The shadows wrap around him to turn him into a specter of death, with blood red eyes seeming to glow in the night and a bloodied axe at his side. His own blood is sprinkled all over him and his clothes are ripped and torn, but all that does is add to the horror.

The villain grits his teeth before throwing his head back to the sky and beginning to howl a wordless warcry. The wounds on his arms begin to close and in seconds, it’s as if the fight never happened again. “If you’re going to be a stubborn little shit about dying, then goddamn you, I can do that too! Accept your fate and DIE!”

A tiny smirk curls onto Zombieman’s face and he taps the head of the axe against his palm. “You have no idea…”

As the villain charges one more time, the pale hero leans forward, axe up and ready to swing. Right before impact, a final sentence leaves his mouth.

“What the meaning of TENACITY is.”

__

“Damn, King and Saitama were right.” Metal Bat groans and bangs his head against the head of the sofa, slapping a hand to his forehead comically. “What do the two of us owe you?”

The blond and the baldy glance at each other for half a second before turning back to the two with blank faces and speaking in unison. “Sodas.”

On the TV screen, a pale figure stands on top of what’s nothing more than a writhing ball of flesh and torment, staring down at what was once his enemy but is now his victim. Police and heroes hesitate in the background, too scared to even approach the unmoving figures.

Zombieman glances at the cameras for a split second before sighing and shaking his head. He swings his axe onto his shoulder and slips into the shadows, disappearing without a word.

“Seven deaths, though. Must have been a pretty fucking strong tiger.” Metal Bat stumbles up from his seat and over to the fridge, taking out two soda cans. He tosses one to Saitama and another to King, both of which are snatched out of the air by the baldy. Saitama passes one to his friend and the two pry open the cans.

“It appears to be so.” Bang shrugs nonchalantly and smiles under a bushy mustache, reclining back even more into his sofa. “Zombieman’s strength is his regeneration, and without it he may not have been S Class material. Although, if his amazing healing ability and Fist of Flowing Water were combined, I am sure he would be a nigh-unstoppable fighter. Ah, how I wish I had more students back home…”

“Aren’t there all those kids from all those different classes learning from you now?” Saitama puts down his soda and glances curiously at the old man, eyebrow quirked. “You have a lot of students here, dontcha?”

“That is quite true, and I am thankful for it.” The martial artist hums quietly and glances over at a paper calendar on the far wall, frowning. “But their finals are in a short while, and I cannot teach them anything too advanced. Only something that might help them.”

“Then there’s that whole tournament deal, too.” King gulps down the rest of his drink before speaking, glancing around at both the old man and the baldy. “I heard it’s like a week after their finals, and they gotta fight for it all live, in front of the whole country or something.”

“They must be going through tremendous amounts of stress, then.” Genos’s notebook might be put away, but the cyborg’s analytical tone remains as he puts a hand to his chin and rests his elbow on his other hand. “In times like these, people would look up to them to be unstoppable paragons and shun them if they are not the impossibly perfect superhumans they are presented as. Hmm… upon further consideration, would this tournament not be a bad thing for them? It appears that it may be too stressful for growing children… ”

“Think about it this way.” Bang folds his hands in his lap and smiles gently as the cyborg turns towards him. “The people want hope more than anything, and this tournament would be perfect for them to regain that hope. They will see their future heroes and what they are capable of, and become emboldened by even the failures of the tournament. It is a perfect opportunity to provide entertainment, raise public morale and give fame to the students, all in one.”

“Ah.”

Metal Bat smirks. “What, no screaming about how great ‘Bang-sensei’ is? Is that only a Saitama thing?”

Genos turns to glare at him, which only makes the delinquent snicker harder. Zenko frowns and bonks him on the head, and he recoils slightly, rubbing at the spot. “Ow.”

“Finals and a tournament, huh…” Saitama frowns and folds his hands together in front of his face, eyes staring intensely into nothing. “I might have to train Uraraka for that.”

“Oh yeah, how’s the thing going with you private tutoring that kid or whatever?”

“She’s making progress, but the problem is that she can’t actually fight that well.” Saitama doesn’t bother turning around to the other inhabitants of the dorm as his features almost seem to sharpen and grow serious. “Until last week, she couldn’t make a fist correctly.”

“Are you one to talk, Saitama?”

“Shut up, old man. She fights really sloppily, like how I did when starting out, and she’s said she doesn’t have time to join your classes.” The bald man frowns and his eyes narrow. “I don’t know that much about technique or whatever, but I can at least teach her how to punch and kick so it hurts the other guy more than her. I gotta start working on that tomorrow, I guess.”

I’d feel really damn bad if my ‘disciple’ got eliminated in the first few rounds, after all.

“I’m gonna teach you how to fight today.”

Ochako frowns and blinks as Mr. Saitama crosses his arms with a serious face. It’s a bit jarring, seeing such a tough and resolute expression on someone normally so dull and uncaring. “I can fight well enough on my own as is, though.”

“Not really.” She sputters before the bald man chops his hand through the air, cutting her off. “You didn’t even know how to make a proper fist a couple days ago. If you go to that tournament thing or whatever like that, you aren’t going to get far if there’s any fighting at all. I gotta get you to win at least two rounds.”

“But… fine.” She holds up her arms as if in surrender, a small frown twisting onto her face. I know I’m not the best at fighting, but getting told that so directly kinda hurts.

The bald man must sense it, because his voice softens with his next words. “It’s not like you’re doing anything wrong, it’s probably just that you’ve never been prepared for it before. You just have to learn now.”

“Oh… okay…”

That makes it a little better, but it still feels kinda bad.

“Erm… I guess I’m not the best person to teach you.” Mr. Saitama scratches at his head and frowns. “I’m not exactly the best with this kind of thing, since I just, uh… I just punch stuff and that’s it. So just remember you don’t need to do exactly what I tell you to. Figure out what’s best for you.”

She nods quietly, before sighing. “Well, are we doing this instead of the workout, or--”

“I’ll just teach you the really basic stuff, which is all I know how to do, then we do the workout too..”

I’m going to die today.

“Oh, young Midoriya. Thank you for arriving early today.”

“It’s nothing, Mr. Yagi.” Izuku’s face curls into a frown as he stares at his idol, eyes scanning up and down the old man’s figure. “Have you been eating well?”

“No rest for the wicked.” As the greenette blinks and tries to process (arguably) the greatest hero of all time calling himself evil, Yagi motions to the seat across from him. Without thinking, Izuku crosses the room and takes it.

It’s a small conference room, not too much larger than Izuku’s own room back home, but the sparse furnishing makes it seem larger than it actually is: all there is is a single round table and two wooden chairs. On the opposite side of the table, Mr. Yagi has his hands folded in front of his mouth and eyes narrowed as he stares down into the wood, gaze piercing through the bark.

Izuku’s mentor is noticeably skinnier, even more than before. His cheeks have sunken and his frame is smaller, to the point where he’s not much more than skin and bone. Toshinori Yagi wasn’t much more than a stick before, but now it’s hard to call him even that.

“Um, you should be taking care of yourself…” is what Izuku wants to say, but the words get stuck in his throat as he stares at his idol, with a million other thoughts competing with it. Instead, he just puts his hands in his lap and waits for the words to come.

It feels like an eternity.

“I think you should take Mr. Silverfang’s martial arts class.”

Izuku’s head jerks up and he stares uncomprehendingly at the blonde man. Mr. Yagi’s eyes travel up to stare at him dully, without any of the fire that was there before. A small, forced smile manages to climb onto his face, little comfort for the student. “I’m sorry, young Midoriya, but I don’t think I can continue to train you for the time being. I’m very busy, I need some time for myself, and I… I just don’t think I can handle everything that’s happening.”

I’m being a burden to All Might.

All Might keeps talking with that fake, forced smile, but Izuku doesn’t hear any of it. He just nods dully, agrees quietly, and feels the thought running through his head. I’m being nothing but a burden to the greatest hero in the world.

And for the first time since entering UA, doubt not only fills his mind but pierces through hope and begins to wrap around him entirely.

While it’s probably not a good idea for her to be taking Mr. Silverfang’s class as well, Ochako can at least watch, which is how she finds herself curled up in the corner of a large field, watching a competition being held. As she slumps against a metal fence, too tired to move her arms or legs, the battles unfolding in front of her are some great entertainment.

There are exactly 32 students in the class, all of whom are first-years, a conveniently perfect number for a ladder tournament. In a series of one-on-one matches, only using physical attacks, the students face off in pairs and battle for victory.

So far, it’s the third round. Only four contestants remain: Bakugo, Kirishima, Mina and some metal boy from Class 1-B.

Mina having even made it that far is surprising enough, since the pink girl isn’t exactly a prominent hand-to-hand fighter, but Ochako can accept it. She’s weirdly lucky enough in her own way to somehow bullshit her way to that placement.

Kirishima is also a surprise, but it does make sense after thinking about it. He’s trained himself in the art of defense and the martial art being taught is a defensive martial art; he’d love it.

No, what really shocks her is Deku dropping out in the first round.

Sure, he’s pretty small and skinny, but his Quirk lets him pack punches, and with how much he breaks his own arms, he can definitely take some punishment. But instead of showcasing any of that, he was slow and sluggish, throwing half-hearted jabs and hooks until his opponent eventually shoved him out of the ring altogether.

Now and then, Ochako glances over at the greenette, who isn’t even watching the matches but instead hangs his head, staring down at his lap dejectedly. I’m going to have to make sure he’s okay.

With that thought at the back of her mind, she turns back to the fights.

Somehow, Mina managed to get lucky and trip the metal boy, sending the guy falling to the ground, allowing her to advance onto the finals. Judging from both what she already knows about Mina and the pink girl’s face, Ochako can already tell she’s doomed no matter which boy wins the other semifinal.

Said semifinal is starting right in front of her eyes. Bakugo has his hands down at his sides, clenching open and closed, snarling at Kirishima. The redhead on the other hand drops down into a long, sturdy stance, eyes narrowed and glaring at his opponent as he raises his palms, facing out towards Bakugo. The blonde bares his teeth and takes a similar stance, but it’s not much more than a caricature of the redhead’s, nowhere near as perfect as the other boy’s.

“Begin.”

The moment the words leave Mr. Silverfang’s mouth, Bakugo lunges forward roaring, a hand cocked behind him with the palm open as if to throw an explosion. Kirishima remains rooted in place until the last second, with his eyes slitted and breathing still. Then, right as the blonde swipes at him, the redhead moves.

Fast, strong, smooth. The first and last words aren’t things Ochako associates with the boy, but that’s what he shows. She could swear she sees blue light as Kirishima sweeps forward in a single motion, drawing his fist back before shooting it forward into Bakugo’s gut. The blonde is driven back, coughing and choking as he stumbles away.

As the redhead drops back down into position, Bakugo wipes a bit of spit away from his mouth and glares at his opponent, though it’s cautious now. The reckless confidence is gone, replaced by self-restraint and… something else.

Again he bounces forward, but this time his fists are clenched, and Ochako can swear there’s a small swirl of light coming off of his hands. When Kirishima lashes out, Bakugo smacks the blow aside with a fist, before roaring and going to throw one of his own, cocking his entire body back just to land a punch.

Kirishima’s fist lands straight in Bakugo’s face, sending the blonde stumbling away, howling as he grabs at his face. Ochako blinks and narrows her eyes as other people begin chuckling. Bakugo isn’t doing so well without his Quirk, huh?

Now the redhead begins to advance, eyes beginning to flare with determination. A jab to the solar plex knocks the wind out of his opponent. Parrying a punch sends the blow right back at Bakugo, who takes his own attack in the face. As the blonde staggers, Kirishima narrows his eyes as he bounds forward for a final hit.

Bakugo’s hands explode into a firestorm of color, bursting with rage, and Kirishima has no time to react before explosions smash into him, sending him flying. He hits the dirt, battered and bruised, and his arms seem too weak to propel him back up. Instead, the boy collapses onto the ground, groaning.

Amidst an awkward silence, Mr. Silverfanf rises, glaring sternly at Bakugo, who shrinks back slightly. He jabs a finger at the blonde, who jerks back reflexively. “Disqualified.”

The old man turns around, staring blankly at Kirishima, before sighing. “Kirishima, can you move?”

The redhead grits his teeth and twists himself as if trying to prop himself up onto his elbows, before face planting into the ground. A muffled “no” comes from the dirt, and Silverfang sighs again.

“Then by default, Ashido is our winner.”

Everyone turns to stare at Mina, whose jaw drops. She glances at the people around her a little apologetically, before pumping her arms into the air, leaning back as far as she can go, and screaming at the top of her lungs. “LET’S FUCKING GOOO!!!”

Ochako can’t help but chuckle, as do several others. Silverfang glances over at her curiously, before pursing his lips. “Hmm…”

The old man trudges over to her, hands behind his back, and smiles politely as he comes within speaking range. “Would you not like to try fighting as well?”

Ochako blinks before shaking her head. “N-no, not particularly.”

“Would you be open to the idea of fighting, then?”

That gives her pause and she blinks before shrugging. “If I have to, then yes.”

The old man nods before turning back around. “Then I shall have you go against Ashido as a quick final round.”

“Eh?” Ochako blinks before swiveling her head around to stare at the pink girl, who’s still celebrating. “Now?”

“We were robbed of a final round, so I believe this should be a nice replacement. Nothing is at stake, and it’s a good test for you to see how you’ve grown as a fighter. What do you say?”

“Uhm, will everyone else be watching? I don’t really want to fight if they are, since I’m really tired right now and it would be kind of embarrassing… ”

Silverfang nods, then glances over at the winner of the tournament as well. “Then how about I have Ashido stay afterwards and the two of you can do a quick match? I think it would be a good learning experience for the both of you, since every single one of Ashido’s wins today have been luck-dependent.”

Ochako purses her lips before nodding, and Silverfang smiles, before clearing his throat. “Ahem, the class is over, you may leave now. Miss Ashido, please stay behind.”

As everyone files out of the field, talking and laughing, she can’t help but notice Deku lagging behind all by himself, with Iida right in front of him, glancing back at him worriedly. I really gotta talk to him, it looks like something bad might have happened.

“What is it, Mr. Silverfang?” Mina is as perky as ever after her ‘victory,’ and she flashes the old man a winning smile. “Is there some kind of prize for winning?”

“No.” The old man roars with laughter as the pinkette’s face visibly darkens and her shoulders sag. “But I did want to give Uraraka here some experience fighting before your finals, so I thought the two of you could have a short bout.”

Mina glances at Ochako, who shrugs back and smiles a little nervously. My arms are still a bit sore, and my legs are a bit heavy, but I should be able to fight.

Silverfang steps away, and Ochako raises her fists in front of her chin, making sure her thumb wraps around her other fingers. One foot slides back into a fighting stance, and Mina does the same. Both girls narrow their eyes, lean forward, and glare at each other.

“And begin.”

Right from the start, Mina bounds forward, catching Ochako off guard. She barely manages to swerve to the side and avoid a haymaker. I doubt it would have actually knocked me out but it would probably hurt!

As the pink girl stumbles off balance a little, the gravity heroine-in-training lashes out with a jab of her own, hitting Mina’s shoulder and sending her stumbling backward a little. The other girl seems perfectly fine, however, and only throws another punch.

This time Ochako isn’t quite fast enough to dodge and instead takes it to her gut; while the blow isn’t particularly strong, she’s tired enough that it still throws her back a step, catches her off balance. She yelps as Mina throws a jab, sending her another step back again. The other girl’s face is serious as she tosses another punch, only for Ochako to manage to sidestep this one. She grits her teeth and throws an uppercut herself, which hits Mina with a satisfying thud.

What’s not as satisfying, though, is Mina shaking it off almost instantly and throwing another punch. Ochako grunts as she takes the blow to the stomach, and she stumbles backwards a few more steps.

At this rate, I’m actually going to lose to Mina.

She grits her teeth and shakes her head, raising her fists again as she pants a little. That’s bad. That’s actually bad. It’s mostly because I’m tired, but even then, it’s embarrassing to lose to her without any of her shenanigans going on. Mina’s pretty strong, but she isn’t exactly a fighter.

Ah, whatever.

Mina rushes forward again as the brunette’s lost in thought, and Ochako bounces back to avoid another barrage of punches. ...For me, it’s not about winning or losing, is it?

Mr. Saitama’s face floats to her mind, and his words accompany the image. “It’s okay to lose, as long as you gain something from it.”

Yeah, screw it. If I lose, I lose, no big deal. I just have to put my all into it, and hopefully I’ll learn something new today.

Instead of fighting not to lose, I’m going to fight to learn.

She ducks under a hook, then lashes out.

Her fist hits Mina’s gut and the pink girl is thrown backwards, stumbling a few steps before landing on her butt. The poison girl collapses onto the ground, before retching slightly. She curls up into the fetal position as Ochako stares dumbly at her, then at her own fist. What the heck?

Even Mr. Silverfang seems stumped, because the old man just stands there with his eyes narrowed, looking confused.

And so the three of them stand around staring dumbfounded, wondering what the hell just happened.

Maybe I should just burn this whole fucking place down. Would make a name for the League of Villains.

But then again, it would just be overshadowed by the Tokyo incident. No one would care more about some shopping mall over an entire city.

Goddammit.

Dabi would slam his fist against a wall, but his hooded appearance gets him enough attention as it is. He has a jacket zipped all the way up and his hoodie pulled all the way down. At least it’s spring, and it’s really damn cold, so I don’t stand out too much.

He’s in the middle of a massive shopping mall not far from UA, with people milling around here and there, talking, laughing, living their lives.

It reminds him of what he could have had, and it pisses him off.

It really would feel good to burn this whole fucking place down… wipe those smiles off their faces… haha… ha…

At some point he stops, glaring forward into blank space, eyes narrow and a wicked leer spreading across his face. It would be so easy, too. Who could they send to take me down? The top heroes are out of commission, the weaker ones got hospitalized by Antaeus, and then no one could stand up to my fire at all.

Maybe the guy that beat Antaeus might be able to—

He has no idea why, but suddenly every bone in his body tenses up, like something terrible this way comes. There’s a low rumbling in the air, not loud enough to catch the attention of anyone else but enough to make him freeze. There’s a presence behind him, someone whose very existence is smothering. His eyes widen and sweat begins to drop down his head. Slowly, Dani turns around to meet whoever is coming at him.

Blond and blue eyed. Towering high above most other customers, dressed casually enough in a t-shirt under a jacket and a pair of jeans. Three deadly scars leave the mark of a devastating battle, and the cold, terrifying expression is more than enough to say who the victor of that bout must have been.

Who the fuck?!

“Erm, yo, can you please move?” The voice that comes out of that body is deep and silky, like a cruelly intelligent predator about to pounce on its prey. “Other people are trying to get in, too.”

For a second, it’s enough to let Dabi calm down. So he just wanted to get inside the store in front of him, after all! But then a thought strikes his mind that puts him on guard once more.

If he’s a vigilante, he’s not going to want anyone to realize he’s going to fight a villain. In fact, he wouldn’t want to fight a villain if he doesn’t have to in the first place.

He must be warning me off, telling me not to do anything here…!

“Oh, what’s this?” The man leans forward slightly and squints, and the villain realizes he’s standing in front of a poster advertising an idol group. “Well, guess they look cute but probably not going to last long. You probably want to change to a different group if you’re following them.”

Is he saying he knows about the League and he wants me to get out of it?!

As his mind reels from the hidden implications, the man turns to look at him again before shrugging. “Well, looks like you made an effort to come out and touch grass at least, so good for you.”

And with that, the strange man enters the store quietly, blending in just as easily with the crowd once more.

His hidden message in that… It can’t be! No, I refuse to accept that what I’m thinking of is correct!

He can’t be warning me to get out before he puts me under the grass!

I have to get out of here. I have to run!

Fucking bastard… I swear we’ll meet once more! When the League of Villains takes over Japan, you’ll see my face and you’ll remember the villain you let run away, and you’ll regret it!

And with that, he turns tail and flees, cold sweat running down his face and back.

Damn, what was with that dude…

King stares at the back of the fleeing man with his eyes narrowed and his mouth slightly open. I just wanted to tell him he was blocking the way in but he’s acting like he was about to burn the place down…

I guess there are a lot of weirdos in this world. He looked like some shut-in weeb… at least he got some fresh air.

He shrugs, before turning back to walk into the store. The students’ finals are in two weeks, huh… Saitama was getting kinda stressed about it. I should get him to play games with me some time, that’ll…

Nah, that won’t make him relax, that’s a bad idea. Maybe I’ll have him take a walk around or something…

As he walks through the aisles looking for something to eat, he purses his lips and frowns. More than that, there’s a lot of stuff going on here. The Monster Association Cadres taking over a big city and the Hero Hunter being here too… It’s a lot to think about. I hope there isn’t anything else.

Which one’s more important, though? Monster Association or Hero Hunter?

This man is dangerous.

The Hero Killer is perched on top of a roof, watching the Hero Hunter standing in the middle of a pile of bodies. Not dead, just unconscious. What is he after?

He’s obviously trying to send a message; he could kill those people easily, but he’s not. And he’s not just going after heroes either, he just jumped right into the middle of a raid on a gang of villains and beat all of them.

This makes no sense. I have absolutely no idea what he’s trying to do, if there’s even anything he’s trying to do. What message is he trying to send? What wrong of society is he trying to right? Where did he get the power that he wields? What is his final goal?

I have to watch him further.

A few weeks of observation have told him that the man’s spiky hair isn’t naturally blood red, but instead a strange white stained by blood, and he sees pale hairs beginning to shine through the scarlet. The Hero Hunter doesn’t seem to notice, but as is a ritual for him, he reaches down and drenches his hand in a pool of blood. Bringing it back up, he wipes it across his hair again, letting it dye itself a crimson shade. A ferocious grin twinkles in the night, and Stain narrows his eyes as he trembles slightly.

He is not to be taken lightly at any cost.

This is why anyone can be a hero. Because society needs all the numbers they can get in order to fight against someone like this. It’s because of him that humanity drives itself into the depths of darkness and despair, that we are forced to rely on the smallest of hopes.

Because we need anything we can get against monsters such as these.

The Hero Hunter glances around coolly, surveying the large empty square he’s in. Since it’s the middle of the night, hardly a soul is around, especially after the news got out: don’t go to Hosu. It’s the Hero Hunter Garou’s territory.

Garou himself seems satisfied, because he kicks halfheartedly at a groaning villain before turning around and bounding away into the night.

Alone on a rooftop, concealed by shadows, heart and mind racing at a million miles per hour, Stain purses his lips as he rests his chin on his hand. If all heroes are otherwise occupied, then someone has to deal with this menace.

I don’t like it, but I’ll have to step up to the task. I don’t know how I’ll do it, I don’t know if I can do it, but I’ll have to try.

The hunt is on.

Chapter Text

King. A name fitting for such a beast of a man.

Tall. Bulky. A stoic, scarred face. Cold blue eyes that stare right into your soul. And of course, the legendary King Engine that would shatter even the strongest warrior’s confidence.

A man currently in need of entertainment.

“GAH! MotherFUCKER!” And his source of entertainment is the bald man sitting next to him, going red with fury. “How the FUCK did you hit that ten times in a row?! I haven’t gotten it ONCE!”

“Maybe you’re just bad.” The blond man smiles at his friend with the smug air of someone who expended no effort to win, which he did. “You should learn how to click the buttons and not spam whatever you feel like spamming.”

A vein pops on the bald man’s head, and he roars in indignation. “I’ll get you for that, you cocky bastard!”

Ochako Uraraka has no idea why she’s wandering around the school fifteen minutes after she should have been home, and with a boy at that, but here she is, stumbling towards the teachers’ dorms with Deku.

The green-haired boy seems really nervous, as if he’s going to some kind of big meeting, maybe with one of the teachers? Whatever the case, she met him while she was going to the bathroom, and decided to just tag along.

“Uh, Uraraka, I really don’t think you have to be here.”

It looks like he doesn't really like it, but she’s just curious. “Yeah, but I want to be here.”

Deku hesitates, then nods his head tiredly. “Alright.”

She considers cracking a joke or something to lighten the mood, but the way her friend seems so resigned makes her hesitate and reconsider. Did he fail the last math test or something?

Oh wait, we’re here

The teacher’s dorm doesn’t look too different from the students’ dorm, with the sole exception being that lights are turned on long after the school day is over. A few low murmurs can be heard, and Deku grips the door handle nervously. He mutters something under his breath, then pulls.

“FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!”

Wait, that’s mister Saitama.

“You’re too weak, Saitama. I only used one finger and you still lost.”

Huh?!

“That’s just because you kept sneaking in hits while I couldn’t do anything!”

“Just don’t lose.”

Did Mr. Saitama lose a fight? Did I choose the wrong teacher?!

An existential crisis is not a good thing to have when you’re standing right in front of the house where your teachers live.

“Oh, hello.” A silver-haired man steps in front of the door, arms crossed behind his back. “You must be Izuku Midoriya?”

“Y-yes.” Deku gapes and points at the room behind the man, and Ochako must be doing the same because the old man chuckles. His clothes flap loosely as he turns around, then back towards the two students.

“Oh, don’t mind them. They might be a bit loud, but they don’t mean anything by that. Now, I believe you were called by Mr. Yagi? And the young lady can either wait or leave, whichever one she wants.” The old man’s eyes twinkle as he glances over at the two, who look at each other somewhat nervously.

“Erm, could I go in?” The words spit themselves out of Ochako’s mouth before she can react, and she blinks. Uh… if Mr. Saitama really did lose, then I should find out why, since he’s… strong.

The old man purses his lips, before shrugging. “Are you here to meet someone?”

“Mr. Saitama’s my teacher.”

“Really now? How interesting.” The old man smiles at her, before stepping aside. “Come on in, then. And Midoriya, Mr. Yagi is down the hall to the right.”

Ochako doesn’t bother watching either of them, but slips her shoes off and slips past them, creeping down the hallway. The farther she goes, the louder the voices get. What the heck is going on?!

“Guh… AGAIN?!”

“Too easy.”

“You’re cheating! You’re FUCKING cheating! I know you are, somehow!”

“You just suck.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

I’ve never heard him be so expressive before… and who’s the other guy?!

Those thoughts circle around her head as she rounds the corner, then stops.

Her bald teacher and another man are seated on a couch, staring at a TV, game controllers in hand. On the screen, a bunny girl prances victoriously over the broken form of a large ogre, with health bars showing at the top; it would appear that the bunny girl took no damage at all.

Saitama himself looks furious, gripping the controller so tight it looks about to break, while the other man is perfectly calm, leaning back into the sofa with a small smile on his face.

Wait… he’s the bunny girl?

The other man looks nothing like the type of person who would use such a character. He’s a good bit taller than Saitama, and seems almost twice as bulky. Three long scars stretch down the left side of his face, and piercing blue eyes glare out threateningly.

Out of all the people she’s ever seen, this is the only man who beats with power even without doing anything.

The blond man notices her first, glancing over to her with raised eyebrows. A shiver travels down her spine as his cold eyes scan her face, before turning back to Saitama. “Hey, you know her?”

Mr. Saitama turns around, face calming down from rage to his regular apathy. “Oh, hi Uraraka. What’s up?”

He stares at her for a second, then at the TV, then back at her. “Wanna play?”

When Deku walked back out thirty minutes later, he found a duo of furious gamers screaming at the television screen while a scarred blond man just watched and laughed.

Chapter Text

“How about you join UA as a teacher, Miss Miruko?”

“Eh?” The tanned heroine freezes in her sofa and stares blankly at Nezu. “You want me to be a teacher?”

The rat-mouse-bear-thing shrugs grimly, staring at the documents laid out across his desk. “You haven’t fully recovered from Tokyo, even after all these weeks. Not to mention, weeks of inactivity means you might have lost your touch. I’ve talked with the government and the survivors from your agency, and they told me I should have you work as a teacher here first, as a warm up of sorts.”

Nezu’s office isn’t large, and it even feels cramped at times with the amount of furniture being held down by paper, but today the distance between his desk and the chairs for guests seems a bit far. Miruko scowls and squints an eye to glare at him. “I don’t like it. I’m gonna go back and fight.”

Nezu raises an eyebrow and points at the heroine. “With those injuries?”

Bandages are wrapped around every single one of the heroine’s limbs, and her left hand in particular is so tightly bound it appears to end in a stump. Instead of her signature white suit, she’s dressed in a long hospital gown that covers still-healing scars and countless rips and tears through her tanned skin. The heroine grimaces and pulls the gown tighter, but Nezu just points at her torn forearms. “You’re definitely still far above our students, and maybe even enough to be a top hero from before Tokyo, even with those injuries. It’s just that with what’s going on now, everyone had to step up their game.”

“Okay. Fine. How the hell am I supposed to teach kids then? I don’t remember anything from when I came here.”

“We have a new teacher who’s teaching a side class for now, but we plan to give him his own class at some point. I was thinking of making you his assistant teacher.” Nezu rummages through the pile of papers in his desk before pulling out a picture of Silverfang, holding it up and showing it to the rabbit heroine. “You probably won’t be doing too much, maybe helping out with exercises and running an errand here and there, but it should be enough to get you back into shape. Hell, maybe you could learn from him; he’s the number three hero from the place where the Tokyo villains came from.”

“Me? Learn from an old fart?” Miruko snorts and crosses her arms. “You seriously can’t expect that from me. Especially when it’s just some old geezer.”

Nezu looks up from his papers for the first time, staring her straight in the eyes. “I would go as far as to say Mr. Silverfang would defeat All Might and perhaps even All For One with ease. He is not someone to take lightly.”

Silence stretches on through the room for a long second, before the principal clears his throat. “If you take on that role, I also have another offer to make.”

“Huh?” The heroine seems to snap out of a reverie as she turns to stare at Nezu. “What?”

“Would you like to be one of the examiners for finals next week?”

The field is silent as almost twenty pairs of eyes stare blankly at the tanned woman squirming next to Mr. Silverfang, who beams proudly. Even off to the side, Izuku can see Uraraka pause what seems to be a sparring match with Mr. Saitama to look at the new assistant teacher.

It’s enough of a surprise that Class 1A and Class 1B were combined, but for the Miruko to show up…

Some part of him is fanboying almost as hard as when he first met All Might; it’s not every day you meet a top ten hero. Another part is wondering if Endeavor’s around too, since the rabbit heroine showed up with the wounded number two in tow.

But really, he’s just shocked. The normally cocky heroine looks so out of place in plain clothes instead of her signature outfit, and with her hair tied up in a ponytail instead of being held down loosely with her rabbit ear headband. Not to mention she’s badly wounded, particularly around the hands, which are covered by dark gloves. The thing that stands out the most, however, is how she seems to squirm and her eyes dart around the field, taking in each and every single student.

“Today, we’ll be doing our first class with Miss Miruko here.” Mr. Silverfang seems oblivious to all the wide-eyed stares as he chatters happily, wrinkled face creased into a smile. “She’ll be acting as my assistant until she recovers and can go back to working as a hero.”

A split second of silence is followed by an outburst of sound.

“Seriously?! THE Miruko?!”

“We’re all gonna get our asses kicked today, aren’t we?”

“Mineta’s going to be so pissed when he hears about this, oh my god–”

Izuku snaps back to reality as everyone else bursts into conversation, and the rest of his brain begins to follow his fanboy side. I need a signature. And I want her to check if my information about her fighting style is correct. And maybe figure out how she became a hero. And–

Mr. Silverfang clears his throat quietly, but instantly everyone goes silent and turns toward him. “We’re also doing a joint training session today, between the two first-year classes! I’m sure you’re all familiar with each other, no?”

The answer awkwardly presents itself through a thick veil of silence, and Mr. Silverfang’s smile dies down a little. “Oh. Erm, this is a good chance to get to know each other, then.”

I don’t think that’s going to happen…

The field they’re standing on isn’t too big, but there’s still a clear divide between the two groups. On one side, the eleven 1A students glance nervously at the five or so 1B students, and the other side does the same. Izuku thinks he can even see a boy scowl at him, probably from Kacchan scowling back, and looks away quietly.

Mr. Silverfang coughs again and glances around. “Alright everyone, let’s begin.”

Ochako roars.

She swings wildly at Mr. Saitama, who seems to flicker out of existence in front of her before reappearing just out of striking range. The bald man calmly dodges a slash at his arm, before ducking under a kick and sliding behind her. Ochako grits her teeth and lashes out with both hands, but not a single punch lands, even though her mentor seems to be staying right in place.

She swipes at him with her leg, and he merely steps backwards, before hitting the chain fence behind him. The moment Ochako’s foot hits the ground, she lunges forward, stomping towards Mr. Saitama’s chest.

Her foot only hits metal, and she instinctively whirls around to lash out with a wild roundhouse punch. Mr. Saitama seems a little surprised as he steps back again, before Ochako lunges with her arms outstretched. She wraps her arms around his waist and throws --

Or she would, if the bald man was still there. Instead, her arms only curl around thin air and she falls onto the ground facefirst. It stings, but she throws herself back up immediately and turns around to throw a haymaker.

Mr Saitama is way too far away, and Ochako pauses for just half a second, before dropping to her knees. She digs her hands into the ground before rocketing forward, throwing up dirt and sprinting as fast as she can. The bald man tilts his head before seeming to vanish in front of her, warping out of her sight like he had every other time. And just like every other time, Ochako whirls around to strike.

Unlike every other time, Mr. Saitama isn’t behind her.

She stares blankly for a heartbeat before whirling around, only to find Mr. Saitama in front of her, arm cocked. She leaps to the side and curls up into a ball, before freezing and lifting her head to find Mr. Saitama hasn’t moved a step. For a second, the girl and the bald man stare blankly at each other, before Ochako groans and falls back onto her back. “Dammit!”

“You’re getting better at figuring out patterns.” Mr. Saitama puts his hands on his hips and grins lazily before staring up at the sky and exhaling. “That’s not enough, though. You got thrown off pretty quickly from me moving differently that one time, right? You need to learn to sense where your opponent is, instead of guessing.”

“Were you doing that on purpose?!”

“Obviously. I could also have just slapped you at any moment, honestly. Your guard was down the entire time.” Mr. Saitama glances down at his wrist, where a watch ticks quietly. “Oh crap, gotta go, sorry.”

Ochako stares bleakly as he sprints off, before sighing and letting herself fall into the ground. “I’m never going to even get close to him, will I?”

“You should not try to.”

She jumps to her knees and whirls around to find Demon Cyborg striding over to her, face as blank and impassive as always. “Master Saitama’s strength is immeasurable, and it is not a goal that can be achieved.”

Ochako falls back onto her back and sighs. “I should have been able to do better than that. I think I could have tagged him a couple times.”

The cyborg is quiet for a second before holding out his arm. A square section detaches itself from the rest of his body, and crawls down to the ground, where it unfolds itself into a flat surface, much like a tablet. He taps at it a few times, then steps back silently as a video begins to play.

Fire. So much fire. It takes Ochako a good two or three seconds just to make out figures in the middle of the tablet and when she does she gasps.

From what she can tell, it’s from Demon Cyborg’s perspective as metal arms seem to whip out of nowhere to pummel at a familiar bald, yellow-suited figure dodging at the blows. Cannons whip out of Demon Cyborg’s arms at times and blast up rocks, turning them into dust. The moment the bullets land, the cannons turn back into arms and the cyborg pummels at the figure, almost faster than Ochako can see. The canyon the two are fighting in explodes and shatters under the sheer amount of force thrown out by the cyborg, to levels that Ochako doubts even All Might would be able to match.

And yet, the bald man easily dodges everything.

Demon Cyborg roars and holds his hands out towards his master, who stands in place, staring blankly. His arms click and clack as they reassemble themselves into comically large cannons that begin to glow with orange light. “Incinerate!”

Even though there’s no way Mr. Saitama should have been able to dodge the ridiculous burst of flame that covers the entire canyon, even though she never sees Mr. Saitama move, the Demon Cyborg in the recording tenses before swiveling around only to find the bald man behind him, poking his cheek. “Okay, I win.”

The cyborg whips its arm and lashes out, smashing a sizable crater into solid rock, but the bald man leaps around the blow easily, swaying comically for a second when he hits the ground. A growl can be heard and Demon Cyborg’s voice echoes. “Master. Please take this seriously. Do not hold back, and aim to ki–”

All of a sudden, the bald man’s face fills up the tablet, and Demon Cyborg swings immediately, but his foot only cuts through thin air. The screen swivels around just enough to take in Mr. Saitama’s shadowed face with his fist cocked, before the bald man launches a punch.

Ochako’s eyes are wide as she watches the gloved fist rocket forward only to pull itself back a few inches in front of the screen, before a cloud of dust explodes out of nowhere and engulfs the camera. When it disappears, the bald man bonks the camera with the back of his hand and grins. “I’m hungry. Let’s get udon.”

As the screen stares at his retreating figure, Ochako shivers slightly. What was that? What did he do?!

Then the screen swivels around to face the canyon and her jaw drops.

There simply isn’t a canyon anymore. It was there seconds ago, it was there before Mr. Saitama punched, and Mr. Saitama sure as hell didn’t hit it. It was ridiculously large, so big she couldn’t see the beginning or the end of it.

It was just… gone.

The tablet shuts off and it curls back into itself neatly. Demon Cyborg picks it up and slots it back into his arm, then stares down at Ochako. “Do you understand now? He simply cannot be reached in the span of a few weeks. I myself have been his disciple for around four months now, and I have yet to reach even a tiny fraction of his power.”

Ochako stares dumbly before dropping onto her back again, staring up blankly at the sky. I don’t think All Might can do that.

I don’t think anyone can do that.

“Do not be discouraged. Simply set a more feasible goal for yourself.” The cyborg’s voice makes her blink, and she gets up to look at him, mouth slightly open. The hero stares back for a second before shrugging. “You have but a single day until your exam. I would recommend just making a battle plan for now, then making a larger goal for your… festival. I believe that is in a few weeks, yes?”

With that, the cyborg turns and walks away in the same direction his master disappeared in.

Ochako slumps back down onto her back and stares at the bright blue sky, with a million thoughts running through her head, but the one that stands out the most is Demon Cyborg’s words. “I would recommend just making a battle plan for now.”

A thought springs to her head, and her eyes widen for a second before narrowing, and she nods.

Let’s ace this thing tomorrow.

Around thirty teachers are packed into Nezu’s office, silent and serious. There’s none of the good-natured chuckling and elbowing of previous years, and more than a few of them are holding newspapers with headlines about Tokyo. Over two hundred declared dead. Corpses found outside Tokyo. Strange creature caught on satellite imaging.

Nezu himself is seated at his desk, eyes scanning the small crowd gathered. He sighs, then leans back into his chair. “You all know what we’ll be doing tomorrow, right?”

Several nod but no one speaks and the mouse-bear thing glances around quietly before continuing. “Only about sixty students are left in the UA hero course, even after combining all three years. This means that there aren’t anywhere near as many people that we’d usually have, and with the sports festival coming up soon, we’re going to want to finish as fast as possible.”

“Aren’t there a few classes with odd numbered students, though?” Everyone purses their lips thoughtfully at Aizawa’s lazy mumble and several nod. Nezu frowns and folds his hands in front of his face, scanning the room once again.

“It wouldn’t be too much trouble to put a few three-on-one groups, but that wouldn’t be a fair assessment to anyone, especially considering how handicapped you have to be.” The anthropomorphic principal continues to gauge the teachers’ reactions, finding a few frowns and agreeing nods. “We need to have a better solution than that.”

“Would it be too difficult to combine classes?” All Might’s voice is as quiet as it is normally, but it cuts through a few seconds of silence well enough. “I know there are an even amount of first years, so we could have one combined pair, with one student from 1A and one student from 1B.”

“That would work.” Nezu nods and writes it down on a notepad, before raising his head to look at the others. “Any objections from the homeroom teachers?”

Aizawa and Vlad King glance at each other before both shrug. “Yeah, I could do that.”

A quick scan around the room shows Nezu that the other homeroom teachers seem to be in agreement, and he sighs. “Good. Now then, does anyone have any students in particular they would like to test?”

There are a few glances and a lot of head-shaking, and the principal nods. “Alright. I’ll contact each of you later on who you’ll be testing. New teachers, get what you’re going to do figured out by tomorrow. Remember, you don’t want to hurt the students.”

And with that, Nezu watches as the teachers file out of his office solemnly.

... now I have to start with the preparations for the sports festival…

“Are the only new ‘teachers’ you and me?” Zombieman puffs out a ring of smoke as he glances over at the long, white-haired woman in front of him. “No one else is showing up.”

“Looks like it.” The woman extends a hand towards him, and he takes it. She frowns at him for a second, before crossing her arms. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“Weren’t you watching the news?”

“Miss me with that shit, especially if I’m not going to catch the criminals on the screen.”

“Ah.” He takes another long drag from a cigarette before dropping it to the ground. “My name is Zombieman. I’m not from here. And I’m afraid that means I don’t know who you are, either.”

“I’m Miruko. One of the top ten heroes of this world.” She squints at him and frowns. “Are you from the same place Mr. Silverfang is from?”

“Yes. In fact, we were coworkers before coming here.” He stamps the smoke beneath a boot and crosses his arms, looking over to the tanned woman. “Why?”

“How is that old man so strong?”

Zombieman blinks before shrugging. “Has no one told you about us?”

He watches her shake her head, and sighs. “Silverfang is the number three hero of our world. I am the eighth. Judging from how strong your villains were, I’d say any of us here from my world and trapped in yours are far above any of you.”

“I know he was number three, you're not answering anything. And you say that like you’ve fought one of ‘our’ villains before.” There’s a twinge of annoyance in Miruko’s voice, but Zombieman can’t blame her. I’d be pissed if someone came along and told me the villains I was fighting were just fodder, after all.

“I have. Big guy named Antaeus. You should be able to find a recording of the battle online. Apparently it made quite an impact on people.” He pushes off of the wall and raises an eyebrow. “So, do you have any idea what to do tomorrow?”

The heroine eyes him warily before holding up her hands. “I’m pretty strong physically, but I can’t use my hands. I’ll have to stick with just my feet and maybe I’ll even have to go easy. Not really much else to say.”

“Hm.” Zombieman glances down at his own hands before shrugging and looking back up. “I’ll just avoid using my weapons or going for killing strikes. Should be enough.”

Miruko raises an eyebrow herself and purses her lips. “Fair enough. Oh, and by the way, why is Mr. Silverfang so powerful?”

“I told you this already, didn’t I?”

“That was a shitty answer.”

Zombieman sighs before pushing off the wall. “Talent, obviously. Hard work’s a given. Experience is definitely there, with how old he is.”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyone and their grandma has those.” The tanned heroine’s gaze bores through his back as he walks away, presumably not moving from her spot at all. “There’s no way that’s enough to make him that strong. I don’t think even All Might could match him.”

“You’ve only seen him training those kids, haven’t you?” Zombieman stops for a second and glances at the heroine behind him as he pulls out another cigarette. “I’ve heard a lot of things about him in his prime, like that he was the second strongest man in the world after his brother, or that he was more of a monster than actual monsters. I don’t know what happened between then and now, but what I know is that he has things he regrets. And I think some of the reason he keeps going is because he’s repenting.

“After all, one of our biggest problems is his fault, in a way.”

“Tch. Down in one punch again.”

Garou glances up to a red light, mounted on a camera and blinking rapidly. He glares at it for a second before raising his arm and pointing his middle finger at it. His vision drops back down to his feet, where a pile of bloodied and broken bodies croak for breath. His eyes narrow before he springs upwards, leaping above the narrow alleyway and bouncing from wall to wall before his feet tap solid ground. Or solid roof, anyways.

This can’t be it. I must be taking out the fodders, because there’s no way the strongest heroes here are this damn weak.

He sighs and drops down onto his butt, folding his legs and staring blankly into the night. I don’t think anyone’s really scared of me either… those fuckers from the Monster Association are hogging the spotlight. I gotta compete with them, and taking down these weaklings. I don’t know if it’s because I’m stronger or because they’re so much weaker, but I had a harder time taking down C-Class heroes than them.

I gotta move, otherwise my absolute evil’s going to be absolutely nothing.

There are shouts below, and he peeks over the edge of the roof to find several people staring in shock at the mangled, barely breathing heroes scattered on the ground. A few of them take out their phones; most of them dial what he assumes is the cops as fast as they can, while a handful snap photos of the carnage.

Time to leave.

He rises to his feet and stares at the crowd below for a second longer before turning away. Maybe heroes from my world showed up. I haven’t checked the news in a while, they should have shown up on there.

His lips curl up at the thought and he smirks before running across the rooftop. Then if I beat them, I’ll really become absolute evil.

“Are you Mr. Zombieman?”

At the sound of a student’s voice, Zombieman turns around to find a pale boy staring at him. He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms, staring back at the boy. “Yeah, who’s asking?”

“My name is Shinso Hitoshi, sir.” The hero finds it a bit unnerving how the kid’s staring at him with sparkling eyes, and he frowns slightly.

“Don’t call me sir, it’s weird.” He eyes the kid before sighing. “So, what do you want?”

“I… I… I admire you, sir!”

“Wat?” Zombieman coughs and stares dumbly at the kid, who beams as if his day was just made. His brow twitches and he just stands there staring at him for a while. “You… what… huh? If that’s a confession, I’m going to have to say no–”

“No, I-I didn’t mean it like that!” The kid begins flailing his arms around, leaving Zombieman staring even more confusedly. “I… I…”

Shinso takes a deep breath before nodding slightly. “I just think it’s cool how you’re such a strong hero even with that Quirk!”

“I don’t have a Quirk, kid.” He half-closes his eyes and squints, now more amused than confused. “And what do you mean by it?”

The boy stammers and waves his hands for a few seconds before he puts a hand on his chest and breathes in before staring at Zombieman with sleep-deprived, half-closed eyes. “A lot of people have said things about how you have a villainous Quirk, but you’re still a hero, and I think that means you’re amazing.”

“I told you, I don’t have a Quirk. And what’s so villainous about it?” The pale hero tilts his head a little and crosses his arms, staring blankly at the boy. “It’s not really about what it is as much as it’s about who’s using it and how.”

“Did people tell you to quit back in your world?”

Oh, I think I see where he’s going with this.

“Uh, once or twice. But you know, there’s no substitute for quality, and people there are used to seeing blood.” There’s a small part of him that just wants to leave, and another part that wants to finish telling the kid a story, but really, the only reason he’s still standing there is because it’s amusing how awestruck this kid looks. “Besides, people told me to quit because they didn’t want me to get hurt, not because my abilities are ‘evil’ or anything. I’m guessing it’s different here?”

“Everything here is based on Quirks!” For a second the kid’s face grows dark as he begins spitting venom, and Zombieman takes a step back in surprise. Did I say a trigger word or something?

“If you have a ‘good’ Quirk, you can do whatever you like. If you have a ‘bad’ Quirk like mine, no one cares about you! And don’t even get me started on how Quirkless people are treated. All the top heroes have ‘good’ Quirks, and the few heroes with ‘bad’ Quirks don’t get any attention at all, even when they’re working ten times harder than the heroes with ‘good’ Quirks!” Shinso spits on the ground, and Zombieman watches with morbid interest as he brings himself back to an upright posture and grins. “Which is why I think you’re so cool, because people say you’re one of the top heroes AND they say you have an ‘evil’ Quirk!”

“I told you, kid, it doesn’t matter what it is as much as it does who’s using it.” Despite having spent the last five minutes trying not to, Zombieman’s fingers instinctively reach for a cigarette. “If you’re good enough at what you do, no one’s going to care how scary you look. Because society needs all the heroes they can get, no matter how they look. If these people you're talking about came to my world and said the same thing there, it wouldn’t be long before they died to monsters.”

He takes out his lighter and touches the cigarette to the flame, then sighs. “You got a test tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

“Yes sir!”

The hero watches the student’s back as he slowly disappears into the night, and sighs. Bit weird, but he seems like a nice kid.

Shame he’s going to be one of the two I’ll be testing tomorrow. Maybe I’ll go easy on him.

“I apologize for asking at such an inopportune time, but would I be able to go on this mission?”

Nezu starts, then holds his phone away from himself for a second to look at the silver-haired old man standing in front of him. “Huh?”

“I would like to be there when the mission ends. ” Silverfang’s eyes are cold and serious, with none of the quiet amusement usually there. Nezu shivers a little, seeing the old man in front of him with his arms by his sides, fists clenched and back straight. Muscles he never noticed before tighten and suddenly the old martial artist doesn’t look so old anymore. He’s like a different person altogether!

“Wh-what mission?”

“Please do not play dumb, Mr. Nezu. I know you’re talking about the mission to take down the Hero Hunter Garou.” Ice blue eyes bore into the principal, who shrinks slightly. “I would like to be there to confront Garou myself.”

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Silverfang, but I don’t think I can do that.” Nezu covers the phone with his hand and speaks quietly, eyes to the ground, trying to avoid eye contact. “The Hero Hunter is definitely a threat but we believe there to be greater problems than he is, especially as he never leaves Hosu. I’ll try and talk with the government, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

The veteran hero is silent for a while, and Nezu trembles. This pressure is crazy! I watched All Might and All For One fight in person, and that was nothing compared to this!

“He was my student.”

“Huh?” Nezu blinks before his jaw drops. “HUUUUHHH?!!”

“Garou was both my greatest and my worst student. Greatest student in that he was the best at using my martial arts, worst in that he was the one who ruined it for everyone else.” A shadow falls over the martial artist’s face and the old man grits his teeth. “He defeated all of my other students, then after being defeated by me, he went on to attack other heroes in our world. I confronted him, but before I could put an end to his ‘hero hunt,’ the Monster Association intervened.”

The principal stares quietly before blinking and nodding. “I see.”

“Wouldn’t you feel that you would have to be the one to bring your student to justice if they went on a similar rampage?”

“I understand, Mr. Silverfang. I’ll talk to the government about it.”

“Thank you.”

Nezu watches Silverfang’s retreating figure and sighs, before turning back to his phone. “Sorry for the interruption. I got a request to join the Hero Hunter, err, hunt… ”

“Uraraka.” Ochako turns around to see Mr. Saitama with an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. “Today’s the big day, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.” She grits her teeth and tightens her fist to stop her fingers from trembling. “It’s test day.”

“Are you ready?”

“No.” The word slips out of her mouth before she can stop it, and she puffs out a breath. “I’m not ready at all.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll do well.” Mr. Saitama shoots her a thumbs up, before sighing. “Just do your best, okay?”

“Thanks.” She grins slightly and gives him a thumbs-up back, before turning around. “I needed to hear that.”

8:40 AM. Finals begin.

Chapter Text

Ochako’s eyes scan down the paper on the board as she tries to stand firm without getting shoved aside by the rest of the small crowd formed around it. Whispers echo around the room as everyone tries to find their name and the other names around it, and Ochako tries to tune them out.

Physical Finals:

Eraserhead vs Ibara Shiozaki and Kyoka Jiro
Vlad King vs Katsuki Bakugo and Neito Monoma
Metal Bat vs Eijiro Kirishima and Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu
Midnight vs Tenya Iida and Sen Kaibara
Demon Cyborg vs Shoto Todoroki and Momo Yaoyorozu
Zombieman vs Itsuka Kendo and Hitoshi Shinso
King vs Mina Ashido and Denki Kaminari
Miruko vs Izuku Midoriya and Ochako Uraraka

... Todoroki… Shinso… Mina… Oh hey, there’s me!

She glances around a little bit before finding and slapping Deku on the shoulder. “It looks like we’re going to be battle partners, Deku! Let’s do our best!”

The boy flinches, before glancing up at her a little shyly. “Y-yeah, I guess.” He blushes slightly and looks away, running a hand through the hair on the back of his head.

Ochako raises an eyebrow before grinning and putting it back down. At least he’s not all gloomy. For now, anyway.

Wait, we’re fighting–

“Oi, get back to your seats.”

At Mr. Aizawa’s dull growl, everyone files back to their seats silently. The teacher pokes his finger on the board and sighs. “All of you’ve seen this, right? We’re grouping up with 1-B since so many people quit, so now there’s only sixteen of you combined. Physical finals are after the written finals, which we’ll do in five minutes.”

A groan bursts up from the class and the teacher smirks slightly. “Use the time for review and not complaining. When I pass out the papers, the next person to talk gets a zero. Understood?”

The rustling of worksheets being pulled out for review was enough of an answer.

“Damn, that was rough.” Mina stretches and yawns as the rest of the class lies around, staring at each other or up at the ceiling. “I think I failed that.”

“Dumbass.” By Bakugo standards that’s dead silent, and everyone blinks in surprise before turning to stare at him. The blond snarls. “The hell do you want?”

“A conversation without slurs, if you’d please.” Yaomomo prods at him teasingly but the spiky-haired boy glares at her with genuine anger.

“Fuck.”

Everyone eyes him before turning away. Mina leans into a little circle that’s suddenly formed and hisses quietly. “I think he’s just nervous.”

I don’t blame him. Ochako curls up in her seat slightly and glances over at Deku. Deku and I have to go against the Miruko. I know she’ll probably go easy but at the same time… she’s not just any pro hero, she’s a top ten hero. It’s just… scary.

“I have to do it with some girl I don’t know. And I’m going first, too, against Mr. Aizawa of all people.” Jiro slumps against her seat and groans slightly. “It’s going to be a huge pain in the ass, I bet I’ll fail.”

“Hey, you have to be optimistic.” Yaomomo jabs her in the ribs, but it’s clear to see her smile quivering a little. “E-everything will be fine.”

“I hope.”

The eleven of them are lounging around in a room outside the arena, with a window looking into the place and a few TV screens on the opposite wall. It’s a large circular area with a single gate leading outside, and the floor is bare concrete. Kaminari rests his elbow on the sill and his chin on his hand, eyes sweeping across the area. “So, what do you think the rules are going to be?”

“Maybe just one versus two battles? One teacher taking down two students would be pretty manly.”

“Kirishima, what the hell does manliness have to do with anything?”

“I dunno, but it would be manly.”

“I believe there should be more than that.” Iida leans forward and glares at the concrete floor, scanning the area as well. “Maybe the scenery shifts?”

“Could be. Could also be a shogi tournament.”

“Dang, I’m playing 1v2 shogi against Metal Bat? I better win.” Kirishima grins his shark-toothed smile, which disappears the moment Mina thwacks the back of his head.

“Won’t work, you’re too stupid.”

“Yeah, but what if he’s stupid too?”

“I bet he’s not as stupid as you are.”

“Yeah, but–”

The door bursts open and everyone whirls around to find a blond boy striding through with a sneer. “So this is the mighty Class 1-A? I–”

Something slaps and the boy yelps, curling into a ball to reveal an orange-haired girl behind him. Her hand is up in the air as if she’d just karate-chopped the back of his head, and she sighs before lowering her hand, flipping her ponytail, and smiling. “Sorry about this idiot. We’ve met before but I don’t think we know each others’ names. He’s Neito Monoma and I’m Itsuka Kendo. We’re from Class 1-B.”

“You’re fucking me, I have to do the test with that fuckboy?!” Bakugo groans and slumps back into his chair, slapping his forehead dramatically. Monoma rises from the floor glaring right back at him, fire burning in his eyes.

“Well, you arrogant 1-A–”

“Nuh-uh.” Kendo bonks him again, sending him tumbling to his knees. “Don’t go starting anything now and get along.”

“Hey Bakugo, can I hit you like that?”

“I’ll blow your head off, Pinkie.”

“Fine~”

Kendo sighs and grabs Monoma by the back of the shirt, dragging him into the room. Behind her, two boys and a girl saunter in as well. One is a silver-haired boy who has the same spiky teeth as Kirishima, the second is a solemn greenette with long hair, and the last is a blank-faced average looking boy with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Kendo points behind her as she tosses Monoma onto a chair unceremoniously and sits down herself. “They’re Tetsutetsu Tetstutetsu, Ibara Shiozaki, and Sen Kaibara.”

“That wasn’t a misprint?” Kirishima whistles and stands up. “Which one of them’s… uh… Tetsu guy?”

The silver-haired boy grins and holds out his hand. “You Eijiro Kirishima?”

The redhead claps it and shakes, returning with his own toothy smile. “Hell yeah!”

Jiro waves lethargically at the green-haired girl, who blinks in surprise. “Hi, I’m Kyoka Jiro.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” The girl smiles softly, before taking a seat.

“So you would be Sen Kaibara?” Iida takes to his feet and straightens out his glasses, staring down at the average-looking boy. “Tenya Iida. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

The boy nods and shrugs slightly. “Let’s get along.”

Shinso rubs the back of his neck as he gets to his feet and tilts his head at Kendo. “Hitoshi Shinso.”

The orange-haired girl waves and smiles slightly. “Nice to meet you!”

“So, uh, who’s this Metal Bat guy?” Tetsutetsu sinks down into a seat next to Kirishima and yawns slightly. “Weird name, not gonna lie.”

Everyone stops and stares at him. The boy blinks and glances around. “What?”

“... He’s stronger than All Might.” It surprises Ochako that the one to speak is Deku, but a low croak escapes his mouth and pierces the silence. The Class 1-B students blink before eyebrows go up.

“Stronger than All Might? No way.”

“Yes way.” Kirishima grimaces slightly and sits back in his chair. “Delinquent-looking dude a bit older than us, goes around holding a baseball bat? He’s manly as hell. Took out a villain as strong as All Might without too much trouble.”

“When?”

“We took a field trip to USJ and got attacked by a bunch of villains. It… was crazy.” Ochako finds herself nodding along with the other 1-A students, and the 1-B students look around in confusion. “He’s from the same place as Mr. Silverfang.”

“He is?” Tetsutetsu winces. “Goddamn…. ”

“They’ll probably nerf him somehow, right?” Kirishima glances around for confirmation but all Ochako can do is try and hide the uncertainty on her face. Looking around, it seems like everyone else is doing the same.

“Right…”

“Uh… don’t tell me Zombieman’s…”

“The guy on the news who took out Antaeus, yeah.” Mina chuckles darkly as Kendo’s face flashes with shock. “He’s nice…. I think he is, anyway.”

And I’m going against Miruko. Ochako doesn’t voice it out loud but she squeezes her knees tightly. Damn, I’m nervous…

“Guess we gotta do well, since we’re going first.” Jiro shoots a thumbs-up at Shiozaki, who smiles back serenely. “Time to beat the shit out of Mr. Aizawa.”

The bravado of that statement is offset by the waver in her voice, but everyone pretends it isn’t there. Shiozaki nods affirmatively as her lip quivers slightly. “Let’s do it.”

“Alright… Testing, testing, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.” The moment Aizawa’s low drawl comes through everyone sighs in relief. The heroes all grin slightly and chatter starts echoing around the room. Monitors pop up and display the arena, now filled with streets and buildings. Three screens in particular are zoomed into people: one has the dark-haired earjack girl bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, another focused on the green-haired girl’s braids fluttering lightly in a gentle breeze, and a final one on the shrouded figure of Eraserhead.

“How many people do you think fail this time?”

“Eh, iunno… six? Eight? Depends, really.”

“Hope they don’t just fail all of ‘em, that would be a real shame.”

When Nezu taps on the intercom, silence envelops the small crowd. “Alright then, let’s explain the rules. Every round, the students’ goals are to either capture the teacher using the handcuffs given to them, or for at least one student to escape the arena through the singular entrance. Teachers will be given certain handicaps in order to make this more fair! If this takes more than ten minutes, the students will both fail.”

The rat-thing glances at the monitors before clearing his throat. “You should be ready at this point. Begin!”

“All right, let’s do this.” As the intercom echoes with Principal Nezu’s voice, Jiro clenches her fists together and glances over at Shiozaki, who nods silently. The green-haired girl fiddles with her fingers before clenching them together and glares forward, curling her lip in.

”Begin!”

Jiro’s earjacks stab into the concrete ground as she drops to her knees, and she narrows her eyes to the stream of noises whirling through. “Mhm… mhm… no, that’s not it… no… found you.”

The jacks rip out of the ground and she plugs them into the devices attached to her wrists. “He’s on a building to our right. Exit is that way too.”

Shiozaki nods, before pursing her lips. “I don’t think this arena is very favorable for me… too much concrete. I can’t rely on sneak attacks too much.”

“I don’t think abilities matter that much against Mr. Aizawa anyways.” Jiro narrows her eyes before taking steps forward. “Come on. Let’s go. Get ready to do something with your grass-hair-thing.”

“Off to a good start. Jiro has a nice advantage against Shouta’s normal tactics thanks to her earphones.” Everyone nods at Present Mic’s remark, and many cock their heads thoughtfully.

Midnight purses her lips and crosses her arms. “The problem is that they’re too open right now. If Aizawa nullifies Shiozaki’s Quirk and engages them in close combat, they’re done for, unless Mr. Silverfang’s martial arts are some kind of magic.”

“Hahaha! Unfortunately, Miss, the Fist of Flowing Water, Crushed Rock is not magic and it is impossible to perfect overnight. Even the greatest martial arts prodigy I have ever seen is still rusty after years and years of practice.” No one misses the shadow flashing over the old man’s face with the last sentence. It’s not there one second, appears the next, then disappears instantly to reveal the usual gentle smile. “After the short time I was able to teach, the students have barely picked up the basics. However, even that gave a significant improvement to many of them.”

“Is that so… ”

“Then the real thing Aizawa has to look out for is not getting caught off guard by suddenly competent teenagers.” Cementoss taps his fingers together, narrowing his eyes as he stares at the monitors. “What are you going to do, Eraserhead?”

In the middle of a narrow alleyway, the vibrations are the first thing that tip Jiro off. Her earphones quirk slightly and she can almost hear the soundless taps of a man gliding across rooftops.

The second is the immediate absence of any vibrations.

“He’s above us.” Shiozaki raises an eyebrow and the dark-haired girl nods grimly in return. “He just canceled my Quirk. Hit him.”

Shiozaki raises her hand, but at the very second she does the ‘sound’ all comes rushing back to Jiro. The green-haired girl frowns. “That’s weird. I can’t use my vines.”

“He switched targets.” Jiro grimaces, before grabbing her partner’s shoulder. “We should probably run for the exit.”

“Alright.”

The two girls begin to sprint, but it doesn’t last long before Shiozaki stops. “It’s back.”

“Huh?” Jiro blinks in confusion before tapping at her ears. “But my Quirk’s still here, too.”

The greenette’s braids coil around her before exploding out to create an umbrella above the two of them. “Did he take his eyes off of both of us?”

“Why would he–”

The realization strikes her just a heartbeat before the fist does.

“Watch out, he’s right there… watch out, watch out, wa– NO! STUPID!”

“Are you deadass watching their final test like a football game?”

“HE WAS RIGHT THERE! ARGHHHH!” Kaminari flails dramatically before collapsing onto the sofa with a groan. “YOU WERE SO CLOSE! SO DAMN CLOSE!”

“That… would have caught any one of us by surprise.” Almost everyone nods at Iida’s words, a few of them begrudgingly. The class rep pushes his glasses further up his nose and frowns. “I would not have expected him to start from the rooftops, but instead have thought he would have set up his traps at the ground floor. It would seem inefficient to have to go down all those stairs… ”

Just seconds before, Aizawa had been standing at the second-story window of a building in front of the two girls. He’d switched his gaze between the two a few times before breaking contact and slipping down the stairs silently, waiting in a doorway for his prey to pass by, before coming up from behind and hitting Jiro with a straight to the cheek.

The earjack girl grunts in surprise before stumbling forward onto her knees. Her partner whirls around and throws out her hand, but pauses and stares in shock when nothing happens. With both of his eyes firmly on her, the pro hero plants his fist into Shiozaki’s gut.

The greenette grunts but she raises her own fist in return. Although Aizawa’s eyes are invisible behind his goggles, it’s quite obvious his eyes are wide with surprise.

“It’s not like they have lost, however.” Yaoyorozu narrows her eyes and rests her chin on her hand. Heads nod around the room, and eyes are fixated on the screen as Shiozaki throws her own blow.

“Because we can fight back.”

Mr. Aizawa dodges Shiozaki’s punch and counters with one of his own as Jiro rises to her feet and places a hand on her cheek. It doesn’t hurt much, but that surprised me.

She holds her arms up, ready to use her special-made gauntlets, before pausing. Wait, I can’t hurt Shiozaki too.

In front of her, the greenette begins to breathe heavily as the exchange with the pro hero continues. The shock is wiped off of Mr. Aizawa’s face, replaced with a cold efficiency, and his blows are landing faster than Shiozaki’s. Of course, a few weeks of practice can’t add up to the years and years of training that a pro hero has.

Jiro charges forward, but the pro swivels to the side, placing the other girl right between the earphone user and himself. Shiozaki glances behind her, catching sight of Jiro, before ducking under a swing and diving to the side. The earphone user snarls as she lunges forward, trying to wedge herself past her partner, but Mr. Aizawa plants a foot in her gut and sends her tumbling backward. Shiozaki’s eyes go wide before the teacher throws a hook to her gut. The plant-haired girl gags and curls up instinctively, leaving herself perfectly open.

Jiro grabs the back of Shiozaki’s shirt and pulls her away from the blows, teeth gritted. “Let’s go!”

There’s a bit of confusion on the other girl’s face as she nods dumbly, and the two of them turn tail and begin sprinting. Jiro grits her teeth as she ‘hears’ her teacher’s feet tapping behind her, before something wraps itself around her ankle. She crashes to the ground and she can hear Shiozaki stop, whirl around and shout as a hand grips the back of her shirt and pulls her off the floor.

Mr. Aizawa throws her behind him, and she catches a glimpse of the bandage-looking thing wrapped around her ankle. That’s his Capture Weapon, isn’t it?! What kind of handicap was he given, exactly?!

As the bandage falls off and flicks back in front of the pro hero, Jiro crawls to her feet. Shiozaki is punching at Mr. Aizawa once more, and once more the hero is fighting back and overwhelming her. Her attacks are becoming more and more sluggish, and Eraserhead’s stay as fast and powerful as ever.

But this time, the earphone girl is behind her enemy, not her ally. This time, there’s no barrier to separate her from jumping into the fight.

Jiro bounds forward with her fist back, just as Mr. Aizawa whirls around, knocking Shiozaki back with a back fist to the face. The moment he turns, he finds an earphone jack stabbing into his ear, forcing him to yelp and shy away instinctively.

The owner of said earphone jack grits her teeth as she slams her fist into the pro hero’s face. When she brings her fist back, Mr. Aizawa’s nose is bloodied and he seems a bit disoriented, eyes flickering around everywhere. For just a heartbeat he seems so vulnerable and helpless.

With a silent apology, she conjures up the memory of weeks of training under Mr. Silverfang and uppercuts him in the stomach.

Hard muscle meets her fist and it bounces off of the pro, but it has its wanted effect: Mr. Aizawa doubles over, leaving himself open. Jiro’s earphones tingle and she bounces back a split second before Shiozaki’s vine-braids whip out and slither around the pro, encasing him in a cocoon of vegetation.

Checkmate.

“This could go either way, really.” Present Mic’s voice is uncharacteristically low, but it’s still loud enough to generate a sea of frowns or nods. “I think it really depends on how much Shouta wants to win.”

“Forgive me for asking, but what exactly do you think he could do?” Silverfang has a hand on his chin as he peers curiously at the screens. “Has he not expended his ‘handicap’ already?”

“You see, the only thing that’s keeping Shouta from moving right now is Shiozaki’s Quirk.” Mic points at the screen, where Aizawa has his arms and legs pinned down by the vines. “The thing about Shouta is that you can never rely on Quirks against him.”

“I see… ” Silverfang’s voice trailing off tells everyone that he really doesn’t, and the Voice hero grins slightly.

“You should watch closely, Mr. Silverfang. This is going to be good, whichever side wins.”

Jiro stumbles a little before falling to her knees and gasping for air. She shoots a thumbs-up at Shiozaki, who nods back, wiping a little bit of blood off her face. The green-haired girl fumbles for the handcuffs on her hip, and Jiro sighs, glancing at the watch on her wrist. We’re done… with a minute to spare. Not bad–

Something taps onto the ground and Jiro’s eyes shoot up to find Mr. Aizawa speeding towards a stunned Shiozaki, whose long braids lie motionless on the floor. Even as she rushes to her feet, the earphone user tries to piece together exactly what happened.

Mr. Aizawa’s eyes are on Shiozaki.

Shiozaki’s Quirk is related to her hair.

Shiozaki can no longer use her hair.

I’m stupid!

Her homeroom teacher grabs the plant user by the collar before swinging her onto the ground behind him. Jiro hesitates for just a second to avoid stepping on her partner’s face, and that’s all the pro hero needs to plant his fist in her gut.

She gags and stumbles back as Shiozaki rises slowly to her feet, only to be pushed down to Mr. Aizawa, who keeps his eyes fixed right on her. Jiro blinks, before raising her gauntlets up. Eraserhead raises his gaze to her a second too late to avoid getting slammed by a sonic boom, sending him stumbling back a step. The heartbeat of confusion is all the greenette needs to bounce to her feet, throw off the pro’s foot, and snap her vine-hair towards him.

Before any of it reaches Mr. Aizawa, the braids all drop to the floor, and Eraserhead speeds toward her again. This time, she swerves to the side, giving Jiro enough of an opening to throw out another sonic boom. Unlike last time, Aizawa stomps his feet on the ground and stops, leaning forward and bracing himself for impact. The burst doesn’t last half as long as Jiro wants it to, and she can feel all the information coming through her earphones come to a screeching halt.

That means Shiozaki has a chance to use her hair, and the green braids whip out of the air to wrap around–

Jiro’s waist?

Huuuuuu–uuuuuuuuaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAHHH

The braids pick her up bodily and throw her over the stunned teacher’s head. They fall limp midair, sending Jiro crashing to the ground several meters away from the pro– too far for her to do anything of use. She manages to break her fall by placing her hands out and rolling, but impact still takes her breath away. She lies there for a second, breathing heavily, before spinning back onto her feet.

Shiozaki is getting the exact same beatdown that she’s received twice already, and it seems even Mr. Aizawa is starting to feel bad, because the teacher’s attacks have gotten much softer than before. The greenette catches her partner’s eye and mouths something as Jiro begins to sprint towards her.

Twenty seconds. Run.

It takes her a heartbeat to realize what her partner’s trying to convey to her, but by the time Mr. Aizawa realizes as well and whirls around to pursue, Jiro is long gone.

“So much for that handicap, huh?” Metal Bat snorts slightly as he leans back on his chair, folding his hands behind his head. “I could tell Ai–Eye–Aya–Goggles Man wasn’t actually trying to hurt ‘em but that kid’s still gonna feel it in the morning.”

“Yes, perhaps a more drastic limiter is in order.” Nezu strokes at his chin and frowns, staring up at the screen silently. Jiro is leaning against the exit gate and panting heavily as Aizawa emerges, nose slightly bloody but otherwise unharmed, carrying a heavily bruised and battered Shiozaki. “Aizawa isn’t even anywhere near our best close combat fighter, and yet he didn’t seem to have much trouble. Of course, some of that is on him, but we should have given him more of a handicap than only being able to use his Capture Device once.”

“What’ll mine be, then?” Everyone turns to look at the fanged figure of Vlad King, who has a hand raised slightly in the air. “I don’t mind having to fight with a big handicap. I can make something up for myself if I have to.”

“Hmm… you’re up against Bakugo and Monoma… no, I think I have a good enough handicap for you.” Nezu smiles slightly and snaps his fingers. “You’re up next, Kan. Get ready, because these two are strong.”

“Tch, fucking extras…” Katsuki can’t find it in himself to raise his voice as much as he would like to, and the rest of the sentence dies in his throat. He grits his teeth and clenches his fists, before putting them to his temples.

I am Katsuki Bakugo. I am the strongest, I am the smartest, I am the best. I will not, cannot, lose, and I will not, cannot fail even if I have to beat the shit out of a fucking pro to do it.

“Oh? Nervous already? How cute, is this the full might of the–”

“Shut your mouth, asshole, before I blow it off.”

... As long as this jackass doesn’t drag me down.

He wishes he could blow the shit-eating grin off of Blondie’s smug face, but unfortunately the bastard is his sidekick, not his target. Otherwise the fucker would be eating concrete already.

For some reason there’s no city setting or anything for him, only a wide open concrete area. So fucking lame. I don’t get to blow anything up.

He can see the exit gate right across from him, and in the center of the arena stands a pro hero.

Vlad King stands firm, arms crossed and legs spread wide. He eyes both students coldly, standing as still as a statue. His fangs blink out over his lips, catching light and shining. Katsuki snarls instinctively as he clenches his fists and raises them slightly. Next to him, Blondie puts his fists up. “Don’t get in my way, fucker.”

“I’d say the same to you, 1-A scum.”

What was Vlad King’s Quirk again? Ah, whatever. I’ll figure it out later.

“Begin!”

The moment the words spring out through the intercom, Bakugo lunges forward and throws himself into the air using an explosion, firing himself like a rocket towards the teacher, who looks up with startled eyes. “DIE!”

His fist plants itself into the pro hero’s face, and he crashes to the ground with 1-B’s homeroom teacher. Before Vlad King can react, Bakugo hauls himself up, before crouching above the pro and punching away.

The pro hero only takes a single blow before knocking away the rest of the blows and twisting, throwing the explosion user off with a single thrust of his hips. Bakugo rolls to his knees, only to find Vlad King already on his feet, when something smashes into him from behind.

The Blood Hero is catapulted forward, thrown far behind Bakugo, revealing his attacker. For some reason Blondie looks like he’s made of steel, and the bastard smirks as his partner rises to his feet. “How pathetic, a–”

“Fuck you!” Bakugo roars and springs forward again, hands ablaze. Vlad King spits out blood and snorts out another gob of red from his nose, before raising his head in time to get whacked in the face. He stumbles backwards, only for metal bastard to smash into him from the side. More blood goes flying everywhere, and Bakugo feels a grin rising on his face as he raises his fist and brings it down hard.

This is a UA teacher? No big fucking deal! Just another extra like the others. Weak, pathetic! Look at me! I am the main character! I am strong! I cannot be defeated! I am Katsuki Bakugo!

And with that, he throws another rush of blows, relishing the impact of fist on flesh.

“... You know, I’m impressed how Kan managed to predict everything.” Aizawa drones quietly on the table, wrapped in his signature sleeping bag already. “I think this one’s already over.”

“Well, Aizawa, would you have figured out what he’s trying to go for by now?” Nezu’s chair swivels around as he stares at the 1-A homeroom teacher, eyebrow raised. “I don’t think I would be able to.”

“You’re selling yourself short. Kan is a pro hero. There’s no reason for him to let those two students beat him up like that if he didn’t have a plan. Any one of us here would have either figured that out by now or knocked him out already.” Aizawa pokes an arm out of his sleeping bag, placing his elbow on a desk and resting his cheek on it. “As it is, the only reason those two haven’t figured anything out is because they have their heads up their asses. They need to wake up and smell the flowers.”

“Well said!” The uncharacteristically quiet All Might, lounging at the back of the room, grins. “The fact that anyone is even in this room means they’re an experienced pro hero, and would surely have forced Kan to change to another tactic at this point.”

Aizawa glances back at the Symbol of Peace curiously before frowning and shaking his head. “Those two dumbasses get what they deserve. I don't know why I expected more.”

Finally, Vlad King bounces back before tumbling to the ground, falling onto his knees and panting. Blood drips out of his mouth and nose, splattering onto the ground. It’s the very image of defeat, one that wouldn’t be expected on a UA teacher and a veteran hero, but there it is.

Bakugo sneers and swats at Monoma. “Get out of my way, extra. This is my win.”

The Quirk-copier swats back angrily. “I was the one who took him down, you arrogant 1-A bastard!”

“You want to fucking go, Plagiarizm Boy?” A spark of fire bursts into Bakugo’s palms and he sneers at Monoma, who sneers back. “I’ll take you on, right here, right now!”

“Do your worst!” The Quirk-copier’s skin flashes a steely silver, and he raises his hands: one lower to cover his stomach, the other crossed and near his chin.

The two boys snarl and deepen their stances, eyes wide and sharp, ready to jump at each other.

“I was going to play dead a little more, but this is just painful to watch.”

Both students snap around to stare at the rising figure of Vlad King, who puts a hand to his nose and snorts out blood. All the damage of five seconds ago is gone, and he simply seems annoyed. Not hurt in the slightest. “Your job comes before your ego, boys.”

“You!” Bakugo opens his palm and roars, sparks beginning to pop from his skin. “I’ll beat you, bastard, and–”

“Nope, time’s up.”

Something wraps itself around Bakugo’s throat and his arms and he gags as it drags him to the ground, pressing him down, stopping him from moving. A strangled yelp from his side tells him Monoma has suffered the same fate.

Vlad King steps into his view, eyes cold as he stares down at both boys. “Remember two things. One, a good pro hero is a good actor. ”

Bakugo opens his mouth to say something but all that comes out is choked spit and air. Precious air he’s not getting back. The corners of his vision begin to go black and blurry as he’s forced to lie helpless, listening to the hero speak.

“And two, you should keep tabs on your opponent’s Quirk.”

Bakugo’s eyes flicker over to his hand as he tries to flex it free, only for him to blink. Huh? Blood?!

Ropes of blood are wrapped around his arm, and even when he splashes a small explosion to break it free, the red stays there, holding him in place. Impossible to break free.

The last thing he hears before blacking out is the disappointed sigh of Vlad King.

“... That was manly as hell.”

“Definitely. I didn’t know Mr. Kan was so cool… ”

Everyone glances blankly at Kirishima and Tetsutetsu before turning back around and continuing to pretend the two aren’t just standing side by side, arms crossed, staring out of a window with awestruck faces. The other eleven students, with Jiro back from Recovery Girl’s office, are all sitting in a circle, faces dark.

“It’s going to be a lot tougher than we thought, isn’t it?” Kaminari puffs out a breath and leans back into his sofa, eyes half-closed. “Mr. Aizawa would have won if there wasn’t an exit, and Mr. Vlad King had that trick… I didn’t expect that.”

“No one did.” Iida leans forward with both hands folded in front of his mouth and elbows on his knees, eyes slitted as he stares into nothing. “It would appear that our teachers are not opposed to using guile instead of fighting openly.”

“You got that, Deku? We have to make sure Miruko doesn’t pull any tricks!” Ochako prods at the greenette with her elbow, but the only response she gets is a quiet grunt. “Hey, Deku! Deku!”

“Hnn? What?” The boy’s head shoots up and he glances around wildly before blinking a few times. “Did I miss something?”

“Were you dozing off?” Iida smiles a little bit as others laugh, and he leans back to assume a more comfortable posture. “It’s okay, Midoriya, we understand you’re nervous.”

“No, it’s… ” Deku sighs before shaking his head. “Sorry, guys.”

Ochako glances at him with conflicting emotions pulsing through her: should she be frustrated that her words were just ignored? Or should she be scared that he’s so… docile and just… not Deku-like? Or should she be sad for him for whatever reason?

For the first time since she could remember, she wishes she knew what to say.

“Do those two morons know they’re going next?” Mina’s snort breaks the uncomfortable silence as everyone turns to look at the two boys, still standing in front of the window and still wearing the same wondrous expressions. “How much do you wanna bet they don’t know?”

Instead of taking it, Jiro clears her throat before cupping her hands around her mouth. “Oi, dumbasses, you’re up next.”

Kirishima and Tetsutetsu both startle before glancing at each other with their jaws dropping. “Huuuuuuuh?”

Mina tsks with her tongue and Ochako can barely make out the words she mutters under her breath. “I would have made a fortune if someone bet something.”

“Are you sure not putting any weights or anything like that on Metal Bat is a good decision?”

“Absolutely.” Zombieman pulls a cigarette out of his mouth and huffs out smoke in the hallway outside the monitoring room. “Any weights that go on him won’t be handicaps, they’ll be weapons.”

Aizawa narrows his eyes before sighing. “I have to say, I really don’t know if just taking away his bat is that big of a handicap. Kan couldn’t use anything except his Quirk, is Metal Bat useless without a bat or something?”

“Kid’s superhuman, even if you stripped him naked and threw him out there he’d be dangerous. At least by making it so he can’t use his favorite weapon, we make sure he doesn’t kill anyone, and I heard the two he’s going against are pretty sturdy.” Zombieman places the cigarette back in his mouth and sighs, glancing over at Aizawa. “He needs his bat against stronger Demon level threats, but I doubt any kid going to this school is at that level. If he really wanted, he could rip apart most of your class with his bare hands.”

“Alright, moving on from a scaling system that I have no idea how to use.” Zombieman mouths an oops as Aizawa narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “I still think we should have put weights on his arms or something.”

“... How heavy? Bad doesn’t look like it, but he can lift a hundred kilos on each arm without trouble. Anything heavier and it’s going to be so big he basically won’t be able to fight and you might as well switch him out for an angry toddler. Anything lighter or equal and it’ll turn into brass knuckles at some point. If anything, I think the best way to handicap him would have been to switch him out for someone else altogether.” Zombieman takes the cigarette out of his mouth and tosses it into a nearby trash can, going silent for a little bit.

“I think so too. But Nezu insisted we use him for some reason… ” Aizawa sighs heavily before nodding. “I understand. Metal Bat’s dangerous, huh?”

“Depends.” Zombieman turns around and points at the door, to which the 1-A homeroom teacher nods. “He’s usually not too much more dangerous than an A Class hero. I’d say he’s the weakest S Class without his fighting spirit. But I’ve never seen him go down in a battle where he was pumped up until the fight ended. As long as those kids don’t piss him off, we should be in the clear.”

“You’re raising some bad flags over here.”

“Whoops.”

The moment Principal Nezu yells “BEGIN!”, three blurs flash across the field and Ochako can feel something like dread sinking down in her stomach. Looking around, she finds most people have the same expression as she does: of blank faces and pursed lips.

This isn’t going to end well, is it?

When the three men crash into each other, Tetsutetsu shines with a silvery light as his flesh hardens into metal, and Kirishima’s skin is jagged and spiked, his skin looking not like the wall it was at USJ but more like a barricade of spears. Both roar as they launch themselves into their opponent, moving at tremendous speeds.

But it’s Metal Bat who smacks them both with a single uppercut and sends them flying back.

A spurt of blood bursts on the delinquent’s hand and he snorts, watching it trickle down his arm, before looking back up to glare at his opponents. “If only I had my bat… ”

Kirishima staggers to his feet and cracks his neck as Tetsutetsu does the same next to him. The metal boy growls and raises his fists as he bends his knees and widens his legs into a lower stance. “He’s strong!”

“He’s manly as hell, we can’t be too careful.” Kirishima drops into the same stance, straightening his right arm, putting the palm of his hand out in front of him while crossing the other under his elbow. “We have to win.”

That stance… it’s Mr. Silverfang’s stance! Ochako hears Mina and Kaminari whistle as the rest of the onlookers realize just what that stance is, and she can’t help but agree with the sentiment. They have guts, trying to fight with something they just barely learned days ago…

“Huh? What kinda–wait.” Metal Bat stares blankly at the two students for a second before shrugging and raising his own fists. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter if I beat the shit out of you two.”

“Hah!” As the two boys yell and begin sprinting forward, Ochako leans forward in her chair. Everyone else is doing the same, trying to capture what’s happening in front of them.

Metal Bat dashes forward to meet them again, fists jabbing out through the open air. The first two hit their marks, smacking into a jaw and a nose, but the third and fourth are parried by the boys, who sweep them to the sides with their own arms. Kirishima throws a jab, Tetsutetsu throws a straight, and both of them hit their marks: one on the face, one to the gut. It looks quite heavy, but Metal Bat doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, doesn’t even bleed as he sucker punches Tetsutetsu a split second afterwards. The metallic boy gags and stumbles back, but the delinquent doesn’t have time to follow up as Kirishima throws his own volley of punches.

Metal Bat doesn’t block any of them, just takes them to the face without flinching and draws back his own arm.

The first thing Ochako notices is the amount of red splattering out from Metal Bat’s face. Kirishima and Tetsutetsu are both a bit dented but they’re a lot better off than she thought they’d be thanks to their Quirks and the small number of hits they took. On the other hand, Metal Bat is simply standing and letting himself get hit, almost like Vlad King in the previous fight.

Kirishima seems to realize as well, because instead of turning around to banter with his newfound steely friend he continues to batter away until the delinquent fires off an uppercut that strikes him in the stomach. Even with the hardened skin, the redhead gags and is bodily lifted a few inches off the ground before collapsing. The moment he does, however, Tetsutetsu bolts forward and slams his shoulder into Metal Bat, who finally staggers back just half a step, face painted with red.

The second thing that Ochako notices is that even as he gets more and more battered, Metal Bat is… punching harder?

Wait, no, that can’t be right.

But how else to explain how the delinquent throws a jab with nothing but speed behind it and it smashes Tetsutetsu back a step, whereas two or three similar hits had simply bounced off just seconds ago?

Tetsutetsu staggers backwards, out of Metal Bat’s range, and the delinquent takes the opportunity to sprint forward, hands up and eyes focused right on the steel boy, ready to attack.

Of course, that means he doesn’t expect Kirishima to come barreling out of nowhere and slam into him from the side.

The hero gags as he’s thrown off and sent rolling onto the ground. Ochako’s eyes widen as her brain speeds through all the options, takes in what just happened and analyzes it all. Kirishima used Metal Bat’s own speed against him! We learned this in physics–two things hitting each other is a lot stronger than one ramming the other. And since Kirishima is probably more durable than Metal Bat, that means he’d be the one to come out on top!

“GO EIJIROU!” Ochako blinks and stares at Mina, who’s gotten to her feet and has one hand cupped around her mouth and the other in the air as she stares at the screen. The pink girl blinks and turns to see all ten other students staring at her blankly. “What? Can’t I cheer?”

Jirou smirks and leans back into her chair, hand still rubbing at her head. “Yeah, sure. Go ahead and ‘cheer.’”

“Shut up!”

Metal Bat barely has the time to stand up before Kirishima smacks him with a vicious haymaker, snapping the delinquent’s head backwards and spraying more blood everywhere. Tetsutetsu leaps in out of nowhere and roars as he lunges forward, sliding behind the hero and grabbing him by the shoulder and arm. The metal boy slips his leg behind his opponent’s, before swinging the hero over his hip and onto the ground in a classic judo throw.

The delinquent hits the ground with an audible thud and doesn’t move. Tetsutetsu and Kirishima stand still for a second, panting, before sighing and raising their hands into the air. They slap each other five before turning around, skin returning to their normal shapes and colors.

Did they do it?! Did they win?! Ochako’s jaw drops and the room begins to buzz as people rise to their feet, staring with disbelief at the screen. Kendo, Shinso and Kaibara turn and stare at the other 1-A students with disbelief, a light that says “Is this guy really stronger than All Might?” shining in their eyes.

“You little shits.”

Oh. Of course not.

The chatter screeches to a halt as the two boys whirl around to find Metal Bat climbing to his feet, throwing off his jacket to reveal a red shirt with its sleeves torn off. His eyes have a new fire in them that wasn’t there before, and his fist are clenched now, to the point where blood is beginning to dribble out of them. “I was going to kick you around a little and let you be, but it looks like you want to be annoying little fucks.”

A shadow crosses the delinquent’s face as he begins striding forward, hands down by his side and teeth gritted. Kirishima and Tetsutetsu both step back instinctively before rushing forward again, skin hardening.

“ORA!”

A single strike to the gut sends Kirishima flying, retching as he hits the ground and rolls before stopping, lying on the ground and writhing in the fetal position. Tetsutetsu swings wildly but it only glances off of Metal Bat’s cheek, and the delinquent doesn’t even blink as he drives his knee into the metal student’s stomach. The boy gags before Metal Bat lets him fall to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

The delinquent stands still for a second, staring at the shaking bodies of the two boys – Kirishima beginning to throw up his lunch – before the intercom sparks. “Finals over. Eijirou Kirishima and Tetsutetsu Tetsutetus – whew, say that four times fast – Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu have failed.”

Metal Bat glances over one last time at the two students before sighing. He drags a hand through his hair and comes back with blood. “Dammit, Zenko’s going to be pissed… ”

“I think the remaining students have learned good lessons from those three fights so far.” Aizawa drones quietly from his spot on the sofa as the screens display Metal Bat picking up his jacket and the two students, then swinging all three of them onto his shoulders like sacks of wheat and dragging them off to the exit. “First fight gives them a good handle on the difficulty, and the second teaches them they have to be careful of tricks.”

“I would venture that the third has taught them not to be too reliable on anything, not even my Fist of Flowing Water.” Silverfang smiles beneath his bushy mustache and strokes his chin. “Even with that practice and all those improvements they’ve made over the time they practiced, they are but novices. Overreliance on anything can lead to death, and this match has proven that.”

“Should we put more handicaps on, though?” Vlad King, now covered in bandages, manages to slur out from beneath one wrapped around his nose. “I feel that Metal Bat went a bit too overboard… ”

“No, this is fine.” There’s a small smile on Nezu’s face as he stares at the monitor, hand (paw?) moving up to face and scratching absentmindedly at his cheek. “The students need to grow. This is enough of a challenge.”

Everyone nods, and the rat-creature smiles again. “Alright, let’s move on to the next test.”

Chapter Text

“Do you have a plan, Kaibara?”

Kaibara scratches his chin and shakes his head at his bespectacled partner, a frown rising on his face. “No, my Quirk isn’t the best suited for fighting someone like Midnight. I’ve gotten a lot better at hand-to-hand combat since I can combine Mr. Silverfang’s Fist of Flowing Water with my Quirk, but Midnight isn’t exactly a close-quarters fighter.”

“I suppose my Quirk wouldn’t be much better off, either.” Iida frowns slightly, and stares at the other boy’s arms for a second, tilting his head. “Can you show me your Quirk?”

“Sure.” Kaibara raises his hand up and instantly his forearm begins to whirl like a drill. “I can spin any part of my body. Probably won’t do much good against Midnight unless I somehow manage to get in close, though.”

“... Let’s do our best.”

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

The screen shows Midnight stands in front of the exit gate, opposite of the two students, in the middle of a flat plain with no interesting features whatsoever. A few rocks are scattered here and there, but it isn’t much. Even the grass covering the field is flat and boring.

The costumed heroine eyes the two boys in their school uniforms and blows a kiss towards them as if to try and get a reaction. They give her none.

As the students watching begin shuffling around to better see the screen, the intercom blares out with Principal Nezu’s voice. “No warnings, threetwoonego!”

Onscreen, everyone can clearly make out all three figures hesitating and glancing at each other, before the two boys on the field sprint forward. Iida whirls into a blur that flickers back into a human just inches away from Midnight, and lances his fist toward her.

The R-Rated Heroine steps back just fast enough to avoid the punch, before lashing her whip out, curling it around the boy’s ankle. She snaps it back, flipping Iida’s foot off the ground and onto his back. As the boy crashes to the ground, Kaibara appears just behind him, lunging at Midnight.

“No!” Deku snaps to his feet and slams his hands on the table. Ochako jumps slightly, as does everyone else, and stares at the greenette dumbly, but the boy doesn’t seem to care, focusing only on the scene in front of him.

Iida kicks the whip off and whirls around, throwing himself forward, grabbing Kaibara in a tackle and sending both of them flying away from the heroine. Gasps echo around the room and murmurs begin to rise, only to be cut short when Deku screams. “YES!”

Midnight grins slyly as she moves her hand away from her sleeve and cracks her whip against the ground. She points it at Iida, who rises slowly to his feet. “Figured it out, have you?”

“Don’t get in close when I do.” Iida adjusts his glasses and raises his fists as he directs his words to a still-blinking Kaibara trying to register what’s happening. “She’ll get both of us and then it’s game over.”

“Oh.” Kaibara’s eyes travel to Midnight’s forearms, covered with easily tearable cloth, then to her hands gripping the whip tightly. “Oh.”

“They can’t get too close at the same time otherwise Midnight will put them to sleep!” Ochako has no idea when Deku began lecturing, but at some point she tunes back into reality to find her partner gesturing wildly at the screen. “I don’t know why Midnight hasn’t just been using her Quirk this entire time, but if Iida hadn’t grabbed Kaibara and gotten out of there, they would both have been asleep and just failed on the spot.”

“Damn, so I wouldn’t have been able to cop a feel.” Kaminari yelps as Jirou smacks him on the back of his head, and turns around to stare at her with watering eyes. “Ayo, what was that for?”

“You really were thinking about groping a pro hero in exchange for failing your final, weren’t you, Jammingwhey?”

“Uh… no? Haha?”

Ignoring the electricity user’s nervous laughter, Ochako taps her chin quietly. “So Deku, what would you do if you were them?”

“I would have Iida use his speed to try and get Midnight off balance, while Kaibara can hopefully go in fast enough to finish her off. Or I would have Iida just run away as fast as possible, since I think the pass condition is that only one needs to leave.” Deku frowns, as the sound of the R-Rated Heroine cracking her whip echoes through the room. “I don’t think it would be that easy, though. Maybe… ”

“Ayo! Ayo! What just happened?” The two of them jolt back towards the screen as cries echo through the room, and their eyes widen as they find a completely different scene from the one they had just been watching minutes earlier.

Kaibara crouches behind one of the few rocks, teeth gritted as he tries to remember the past few seconds, with a hand dragging his costume up to his nose and mouth to stop the soft pink gas around him from entering his mouth and dropping him to sleep.

Just like Iida a few feet away from him, face down and snoring softly right in front of the R-Rated Heroine.

What the hell went wrong?!

Okay, okay, let’s think about this clearly. Iida drags me out of Midnight range. We think up a plan. Iida runs back in. Midnight grabs her sleeve, and…

She baited us into that one. I have to get through this somehow.

“Where’d the other one go? He was here just a second ago… hmm.” Just on the other side of the rock, he can hear Midnight muttering to herself, and he holds his breath as her footsteps tap quietly not far from him. “Whatever. He’ll have to come out in a little bit.”

Shit, shit, how do I get through this…

He glances at his free hand and whirs it a little. How can I use my Quirk to get out of this? I don’t think I can blow away the gas with it, and I have to get close to do anything…

She has to have some handicap, right? With how she was using that whip, I don’t think that has any extra condition added onto it…

It must be the Quirk. Midnight isn’t known for her hand-to-hand combat skills, so it has to be the Quirk. Probably a limited number of uses.

I can play the long game and try to draw it out, or I can hope for the best and just tackle her as fast as possible. It’s not great having to try and dodge everything, but I think it’s better than just running straight at her. As long as I keep track of time, I–

“Sen Kaibara, if you don’t move in the next ten seconds we’re closing the gate.”

Well, fuck.

The cameras are well-placed; on the TV, everything unfolds perfectly and allows the viewers to predict exactly what will happen almost as if they were the one fighting the battle themselves.

Kaibara explodes out from behind the rock he’s been crouching behind, one hand holding his costume to his nose to stop the gas from knocking him out, and the other drawn back behind him. Midnight blinks dumbly for a split second before Kaibara slams his fist into her gut, throwing her backwards. She grits her teeth and reaches for her other sleeve, only to stop as if a realization hits her.

The student takes advantage of her hesitation to shove-slap her shoulder, tossing her backwards, and drops down to grab Iida. As the last of the pink gas flickers out into thin air, Kaibara kicks Iida out of the way and charges.

The whip snaps and circles around the boy’s left leg, and the R-Rated Heroine twists her arm, flicking it back as it to throw him off balance, just like what happened to Iida.

Unlike what happened to Iida, Kaibara’s leg spins, dragging the whip away from the surprised heroine and towards the student.

With a yelp, Midnight tumbles to the ground before letting go. The student winces as the whip slaps into his other leg a few times, but he uncurls it and holds it up blankly, before snapping it out against the ground. It doesn’t have quite the same crack Midnight can pull out of it, but there’s a satisfying thud at the very least.

The R-Rated Heroine climbs back to her feet and grits her teeth, before grinning at the boy. “Clever. I’ll give it a passing grade because it worked, but it didn’t have enough elegance.”

“Does it matter as long as I win?”

“Of course! Presentation is key.” Midnight breathes out before lunging her leg forward. Kaibara flinches and flashes the whip out, but it only hits thin air. As he drags his hand back, Midnight taps her fingers into her still-unopened sleeve before grabbing and tearing off the lower sleeve.

A cloud of rose blooms, covering student and teacher, and when it thins out enough to see both of them again, Midnight is standing and Kaibara has collapsed. The heroine blows another kiss at the student, and smirks. “You have to make it look pretty, like that.”

“Be as it may, Midnight, you’ve lost.” As Aizawa’s dry voice rasps humorously, the heroine freezes, before slowly turning around and surveying the area. “Tenya Iida escaped five seconds ago.”

“Oh.”

“He figured out the handicap at least partially.” Aizawa crosses his arms and narrows his eyes as he stares at the screen, where Iida stumbles groggily out of the gate and almost collapses onto the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. “Kaibara must have had some idea of what it was if he just rushed in like that.”

“He’s not dumb, and you can tell by how he made sure the gas didn’t effect him until the end. The real pity is that Midnight was such a bad matchup for the two of them that we didn’t really get to see them in action.” Vlad King strokes at his chin thoughtfully, eyes narrow. “I suggest seeing their performance at the Sports Festival instead to gauge their scores. We can’t say much off of this, other than that they had better teamwork than Bakugo and Monoma.”

“I believe that would be reasonable. And I do think the handicap was a little light, considering how Midnight had a dominant matchup against both of the students. We should have given her one use of her Quirk only, not three.” All Might puts a hand on his chin before sighing, and turns to Nezu. “Who is up next?”

“Hmm, that would be… Demon Cyborg versus Todoroki and Yaoyorozu.”

“The two powerhouses, huh.” Aizawa snorts slightly before glancing at the cyborg getting to his feet, already beginning to steam. “I guess we’ll see a lot of flashy lights this time.”

“Demon Cyborg, do you understand your handicap?” Nezu swivels his chair around to face the half-robot, eyes cold and serious. “Of all the people here, your particular fighting style is probably the most threatening, not just to the students but the environment as well, so please be careful.”

“Understood.”

The cyborg nods once, before turning around and filing out the door.

The face of a gaunt and haggard Enji Todoroki still haunts his mind. Not Endeavor, the fiery number two hero in the world, the megalomaniac bastard who would abuse his family just for a strong heir. But Enji Todoroki, the father that Shoto had never known, a man who looked back at his past actions to regret them, had been the one lying on that hospital bed, staring at the lifeless, scarred stump of flesh that had once been an arm.

Ever since his father awoke, Shoto hasn’t been to see him aside from one time. One time where he walked into the room to find the number two hero gazing silently out the window, eyes lifeless. Shoto stood there awkwardly for a minute, before turning right around and stepping outside.

Endeavor probably didn’t even see him. He didn’t turn around to look, didn’t move, didn’t even grunt; just stayed put, staring out the window blankly. As if he were nothing more than a mannequin, unable to move without someone pulling the strings.

It scared Shoto.

He had never loved his father, and to be honest he’d always imagined it would have been better if it had just been his mother, but his father had always been there. For the better or for the worse, Endeavor had existed as a fact of life, being a blazing fury that could never be satisfied. He had always been the antagonist of Shoto’s life, the undefeatable tyrant that held absolute power, that required an entire hero’s journey in order to take down.

But now the hero has burned out, not in a spectacular final blaze of glory but collapsing into a pile of ashes. Now he’s no longer the face of justice, but nothing more than a victim of evil.

Shoto has no idea what to do now.

“Are you okay, Todoroki?”

He manages a nod as he glances over at Yaoyorozu, trying to keep his cool like he has been for the rest of the year. “I’m fine. How are you feeling?”

She looks at him cautiously, before flipping her ponytail over her shoulder and sighing. “We’re going against Mr. Demon Cyborg. Of course I’m nervous.”

Shoto grinds his teeth a little at that. And of course I’m going against someone who Mother’s ice won’t be able to do anything against. It’s as if whoever designed this wants to see me become Father’s mini-me.

I’m not going to use my fire. I refuse to use my fire. I’m strong enough to fight without it.

Yaoyorozu glances at him again before patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s talk again later. Focus on the test right now.”

Wh– He blinks a few times and stares blankly at the girl, who begins cracking her knuckles and rotating her arms as if to stretch. What do you mean, talk again later? I’m not doing that. Leave me alone.

He would walk away, but the two of them are alone in a small corridor, with a door in front of them and nothing behind them. There’s nowhere to go, and he just stares forward, hoping the door would open already.

His wishes are answered with a creak when it begins to rise slowly, opening like a garage to reveal a suburban cityscape before them; there are a couple of small one-story houses with wide lawns, and trees sprout up from every angle. There’s a road leading clearly to the opposite side of the arena, where an open gate beeps with a red light.

In front of the gate stands Demon Cyborg.

A chill goes down Shoto’s spine as he makes out the small details etched into every bit of the cyborg’s body. A mostly-human face, thrown off by cold golden eyes glowing blindingly even in the middle of day. Metal twisted beautifully into a sculpture that resembles the human body, with claw-like blades curling out of every angle, glowing powerfully. Smoke is beginning to rise off of the hero as he doesn’t take a stance, doesn’t even raise his fists, just bends his head down a little, eyes focusing in on the two students.

“Do we want to run or fight?” Yaoyorozu’s whisper catches Shoto off guard and he blinks for a few seconds to register what she’s saying before he gets it. He shakes his head.

“We fight if we can. We run if we have to.”

“Alright. So wha–”

“Begin!”

Principal Nezu’s shout cuts off Yaoyorozu, and before she can say anything else, Shoto raises his hand high above his head, before sweeping it down, then curling it back up.

A tidal wave of frost crashes up from the ground, smashing up into the air, bursting through concrete and slashing everything in sight. Shoto ignores the gasp from his fellow student and marches forward, eyes straight. “Let’s leave.”

I’m just going to get this over with quickly. I don’t need to spend too much time on this–”

“Machine-Gun Blows.”

A hand snatches the back of his shirt and yanks him backwards unceremoniously just seconds before his glacial garden explodes into tiny shards of water, evaporating into vapor even before they can hit the ground. Thunder crackles as Demon Cyborg climbs out of a crater of ice, eyes glowing an ethereal white before fading back into their regular color. His arms are steaming, and Shoto gasps slightly.

“Don’t take him lightly!” Yaoyorozu hisses in his ear, and she lets go of his shirt, letting him drop to the ground unceremoniously. She puts her arm on her shoulder, scrunching up her face as if thinking, before closing her hand and pulling something out of her skin.

A string of grenades tumbles out, and she rips one off, flicking off the pin then throwing it towards the cyborg. Demon Cyborg just stands there and watches the little bomb roll, eyes apathetic and unemotional.

Shoto scrambles to his feet just in time to get blasted in the face by heat as the bomb explodes. He gags slightly on smoke, waving it away. Yaoyorozu grunts, before throwing the entire string towards the smoke, then waving her hand in front of her face in order to cut aside the smoke.

Shoto’s eyes widen, and he turns around, tackling her backwards just a split second before the world burns into flames, picking up the two of them and tossing them far backwards, almost back to where they came from. As he gags and picks himself up onto his knees, the red-and-white-haired boy glares towards the site of the smoke, eyes narrow once more. That should have done some damage at least, we should be able to–

The ashen clouds burst into nothingness and swipe aside to reveal a Demon Cyborg who’s unscathed and just as apathetic as before. There’s no telling whether he just survived getting blown up by countless bombs, or he just took a walk in the park; either way, it looks like nothing happened to him.

“I thought that wouldn’t work.” Next to him, Yaoyorozu coughs slightly as she raises herself onto her knees, stumbling to her feet. “We can’t beat him by force.”

When Shoto looks back at her, there’s a rope in her hands and she spins it around a bit before sighing. “We could try to trick him, but I think it’ll be easier if I distract him and you get out.”

“I’m fighting.” The pure vitriol in his own voice surprises himself, but Shoto glares angrily at his partner nonetheless. “I’m fighting until I either win or I lose.”

“You can’t–”

“Time’s up.”

Both students whirl towards the sound of a cold voice, much closer than either of them thought would be. Demon Cyborg stands right in front of them, eyes blazing, fist cocked back as he readies a punch.

Oh.

For a split second, Shoto begins to raise his palm towards the hero but pauses. Stops. Reflexively hunches over and throws his arms over his head, gritting his teeth.

Demon Cyborg pauses just as Zombieman had done in the class exercise so many days and weeks ago, before jabbing his arm forward. Shoto doesn’t see quite where the fist goes, but suddenly, his throat is on fire.

The world sparks black for a second as all the air in the world escapes his lungs, and he drops like a sack of rocks, breathing in the air around him greedily like a drowning man. Over the sound of his own chokes, Shoto can just barely make out Yaoyorozu yelling and what sounds like bullets in the background, with a cold, calm, almost mechanical voice responding in kind.

Then color filters back into the world and Shoto flips himself over onto his stomach, before climbing uneasily to his feet. In front of him lie the broken pieces of shattered handguns, and Demon Cyborg holds up Yaoyorozu by the throat, dangling her off the ground even as she kicks and writhes, trying to get out of his grasp. There’s no sign of any damage at all on the hero.

Shoto shivers slightly before exhaling and throwing his arms in front of him.

An avalanche of frost explodes from his hands, slashing through the concrete, crushing stone and steel alike. Demon Cyborg glances behind him for a split second, eyes still unimpressed, before tossing Yaoyorozu aside and turning to face the ice, holding his hands up.

“Incinerate.”

A storm of fire explodes from the hero’s hands, instantly liquifying then evaporating the horde of ice flying at him. Shoto rushes forward, coughing, and feels around blindly before his hands touch cloth. He grabs an unmoving Yaoyorozu and grits his teeth as he feels his arms beginning to go numb with cold, before pulling her backwards out of the cloud of ash.

Again, it’s slashed apart to reveal a yet-unharmed Demon Cyborg, clenching his fist and narrowing his eyes angrily. “Why do you refuse to fight?”

“Huh?” Shoto snarls out an attempt at laughter as he shakes Yaoyorozu, trying to force her awake. “What do you think I’ve been doing this entire time?”

“You are going against an enemy far superior to you, and you have a limited amount of time to win or flee. Why then do you still hold back what you can use?”

As Yaoyorozu stirs in his arms, a shiver colder than his own ice slips down Shoto’s spine and he blinks at the hero for a second before widening his eyes. “What did you say?”

“Use your fire.” All of a sudden, Demon Cyborg is right in front of Shoto, and before the boy can react a fist smashes into his face, sending him tumbling backwards again. When the heterochromatic raises his head up to stare at his enemy once more, Yaoyorozu is again writhing to try and escape from a chokehold, but this time her movements are groggier, as if she had just had a rude awakening.

“A villain does not wait for you to ‘get in the mood.’ A villain will kill you the first chance they get.” Demon Cyborg’s fingers curl tighter and Yaoyorozu gags, fingers grasping desperately at the hero’s wrist, trying to pull off an iron grip to no avail.

Hand to his nose to catch the blood trickling out of it, Shoto grits his teeth, curling his remaining hand into a fist. I’m going to win. I’m going to win.

“A villain will not give you any respite. A villain can and will kill your fellow heroes.” Demon Cyborg raises up a hand and an orange circle begins to glow in the middle of his palm. His face contorts into an ugly caricature of the handsome visage of before, twisted by emotions Shoto has seen many times before, and still more that are unfamiliar to him. Hate. Disgust. Disappointment.

Expectation. Defiance. Pain.

“A monster will slaughter your family. Burn down your hometown. Leave you stranded, dying, broken, hurting.” The hero’s voice is beginning to rise as heat begins to whirl off his body, and Yaoyorozu lets out a strangled gasp as his hold doesn’t lessen. “If you hold back on a monster, you are an accomplice in their murders, too useless to do anything but watch.”

“Shut UP!”

It happens so suddenly that he doesn’t even have a chance to stop himself. Flames erupt out of his arm, flaring towards Demon Cyborg, stealing all the air out of the sky. The hero cocks his head before tossing Yaoyorozu down and pinning her under his foot as his hand glows crimson.

A jet of light bursts from the hero’s hand and smashes into the fireball, bursting with energy for a second before exploding into nothing. Shoto is sent tumbling backwards and hits the ground hard. The world begins to spin, and he gags slightly as he tastes blood.

“Get up, Shoto Todoroki. Get up and prove you are a hero.”

He grits his teeth and climbs to his feet. Demon Cyborg has his foot on Yaoyorozu’s stomach, stopping her from moving anywhere, but Shoto can see his partner’s eyes gleaming dangerously as her fingers twist rapidly, seemingly tying something. She catches his eye and jerks her head to the side.

As if to tell him to attack.

Shoto takes a deep breath, then a step forward.

In all the months spent at UA, Momo has never seen Todoroki with any emotion on his face. Not happy, not sad, not even frustrated. Just apathetically blank.

So when she sees fury lashing itself all over the boy’s face, something in her stops, pauses, then decides it’s terrified.

Ice explodes out from every corner, only to be parried easily by Demon Cyborg, who doesn’t move an inch from the spot where he has Momo trapped underfoot. Todoroki howls as his left arm ignites then explodes into a firestorm that roars across the arena, only to be vacuumed into Demon Cyborg’s outstretched hand. Little by little, the boy advances towards his partner and his enemy, eyes somehow cold and furious at the same time.

Momo grits her teeth and glances down at Demon Cyborg’s ankle. The rope she’s tied into the ground holds the hero’s ankle still, and she nods to herself before tapping at her arm. I want… uh… I want a knife.

As she pulls it out of her arm, the foot on top of her suddenly presses down harder and a strangled gasp is pulled out of her, along with all the air in her body. The knife clatters to the ground and she gags for air, hands clawing at Demon Cyborg’s leg to try and make him let go.

Todoroki leaps into her view, right hand out and encased in a layer of ice, left arm flaring ablaze. Demon Cyborg’s narrows his eyes and taps backwards, finally lifting his leg off of Momo’s gut and letting her suck in greedy breaths of air – only for his leg to get caught on the rope Momo has tied him to the ground with.

The hero doesn’t fall, but he stumbles for a second, and that’s long enough for Todoroki to smash both his fists into the hero’s face. For a moment hope pounds against Momo’s heart, only to fall down into nothingness when she realizes that somehow, at some point, Demon Cyborg put his hands in between Todoroki and his face and blocked the punches.

The hero swings himself backwards and rips his leg out of the knot in one quick motion, freeing Momo from her spot on the ground. As she stumbles to her feet, Todoroki rushes past her, eyes burning furiously as he swings his frozen fist.

Demon Cyborg taps it aside with his fist before lunging into a deeper stance and placing his fist in the boy’s gut. As Todoroki retches and stumbles backward, the hero breathes in slightly before sweeping forward.

“Machine-Gun Blows.”

What seems like a wall of fists suddenly materializes in front of the hero, slamming into Todoroki at every angle. The boy is sent flying, and Momo dives to the side to catch him before he hits the ground, dropping the net in her hands as she does so. Her foot taps the rope before tangling itself in the net, and she tries to rip it free but the net holds.

Oh no.

In her split second of horror, Demon Cyborg takes the opportunity to raise his foot up, then slam it into her stomach. The air rushes out of Momo and she feels like hurling up the remainder of her breakfast as she hits the ground, wheezing for air. When she looks back up, the hero has his hands on the unconscious Todoroki, grabbing him by the neck much like he had been doing to her earlier.

Somehow, in the midst of all this, he’s still placed himself between her and the exit.

I can’t just leave him like that!

Before the hero has a chance to talk, Momo flings her palm in front of her. A spherical shape bursts forth from under her skin, materializing as it detaches and flies towards the hero, who blinks slightly. As Momo dives to the side, Demon Cyborg just watches.

When the grenade hits the ground, it explodes into smoke, making everything essentially invisible. Momo curls into herself, gritting her teeth and racking her brain for what to do next. I’ve bought myself a little bit of time, but what should I do with it–

All of a sudden, a fist flies out of the ashes and smashes into her face, sending her tumbling backwards. As she taps at her nose and mouth, both of which feel like they’ve been smashed up into oblivion, Demon Cyborg’s hand cuts through the smoke, dispelling it to reveal himself glaring right at Momo, hand still wrapped around Todoroki’s throat. He raises his hand at her silently, and his palm begins to glow a bright neon orange.

Todoroki’s eyes blink open and he glances around groggily.

Momo rips a shield out of her arm and slams it on the ground in front of her just a split second before a beam of fire smashes into it, sending her skidding backwards a few feet. When she peeks over it, Demon Cyborg is beginning to advance, fist clenched.

Todoroki raises his palm towards her, and Momo realizes that for once, she’s the one with her back to the exit.

A pillar of ice lances out from Todoroki’s hand and smashes into her shield, sending her flying backwards, far away from both Demon Cyborg and Todoroki. She grunts as she hits the ground, skidding a few feet before stopping. As her ragged breathing comes to a halt, the sight of a black-ish metal gate registers in her mind.

“Finals over. Shoto Todoroki and Momo Yaoyorozu have successfully escaped.”

“That was… ”

“Yeah… ”

No one really has the words to define what they’ve just seen; the students are all silent, staring dumbly at the screen in front of them as Yaomomo teeters to her feet before collapsing back onto the ground. Demon Cyborg has let go of Todoroki and quietly watches the boy heaving for air, eyes swimming with some unknown emotion.

“So… who’s up next?”

Everyone glances at each other quietly, no one willing to say another word as on-screen, the robotic hero picks up Todoroki, then marches over to Yaomomo and throws both of them over his shoulders like two sacks of potatoes. Jirou clears her throat, before tapping at her phone and scrolling a bit. “Uh… Kendo and Shinso, against Zombieman.”

“Oh.”

Class 1-A goes silent before turning towards the final member of 1-B and the newest member of 1-A. Shinso sits quietly, hands on his knees and head down as if wondering what he did wrong to deserve this, while Kendo glances around nervously. The person that knows versus the person that doesn’t know.

“Well, uh, good luck.” Kaminari shrugs uncomfortably and reclines into his seat, eyes swerving all over the place before settling on the TV screen once more, which has switched black as the arena is reformed for the next test.

Everyone else nods somberly, with a few people clapping Shinso on the back or shooting Kendo a lifeless thumbs-up.

There’s really just not much to say except hope for the best.

“Quite the ride, eh?” Nezu reclines backwards into his chair with a little smile, hands folded behind his head. “They did pass, strictly speaking, but I think that warrants a closer look into whether or not they actually succeeded.”

“I think all of them need to be looked at a bit more carefully.” Present Mic clears his throat, tapping at his chin. “Jirou and Shiozaki barely touched Aizawa, Metal Bat didn’t really hold back at the end, Iida and Kaibara did absolutely nothing to Midnight, and now this. If they were fighting an actual villain, forget them being dead. They would have caused so much collateral damage and killed so many civilians in the process.”

“That is a good point indeed!” All Might rumbles from his spot on a chair, arms folded and grinning his trademark smile. “However, I do think it should be noted that all of them handled it decently well for such unaware beginners.”

“Be as it may, All Might, ‘unaware beginners’ can still die just as much as trained veterans.” Aizawa’s low growl cuts almost as sharply as his sarcasm, and he turns his tired eyes on the other teacher. “Especially with Tokyo having happened just weeks ago. I say we fail all of them.”

“That’s too extreme. You’ll only discourage them like that.” Zombieman flips a cigarette out of his mouth and breathes out some smoke, before tossing it into the trash. “They already have a small understanding of what to expect from these tests. Giving them another slap on the wrist should be enough.”

“Speaking of which, you’re next, Zombieman.”

“I know. I also have my handicap in mind.” The pale hero flicks open the door and glances back behind him for a second before he goes through. “They aren’t going to learn anything if you just teach them they’re stupid, not what they have to do. Don’t be too harsh on them.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

As the door swings shut, Nezu rubs his hands together with some of the glee that had animated him before Tokyo had happened. “Shall we call up the next students?”

Chapter Text

“Shinso’s creepy and his Quirk is weird. I don’t like it.”

“Shinso seems like a bright young boy, but he doesn’t get along well with his classmates. I’m not sure what’s going on, but we keep catching him getting into fights with others, and I don’t think he can fit in at all.”

“Stay away from that guy, he’s got a hypnosis Quirk.Talk to him once and he’s going to make you do whatever he wants.”

“He has an evil Quirk.”

“He has a villain’s Quirk.”

Hitoshi’s quiet exhale doesn’t go unnoticed, and to his side, his partner taps him on the shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He doesn’t bother elaborating, just stands there to see what she’ll do. The less he speaks, the better; that means she can’t say he was controlling her mind to do something.

“Well, I’m nervous!” The girl twirls her orange ponytail with her finger and glances off to the side, but Hitoshi can just sense the normie energy radiating off of her. She’s not nervous at all.

Let me guess. Good Quirk, good friends, good life. You’ve just coasted all the way here to UA. There’s nothing interesting about you at all because you’re just a Mary Sue. Nothing more, nothing less.

Well, I’m different. Do you know how it feels to be shunned because you have a creepy Quirk? To live your whole life as an outcast because “it’s wrong?” No, you don’t. You know who probably does?

Our enemy, Mr. Zombieman.

He snorts slightly at the thought before leaning against a wall, crossing his arms. Next to him, Kendo stirs a little uncomfortably, but he doesn’t care. Just leans deeper into his thoughts.

There’s not a lot of heroes with Quirks that aren’t “cool,” and forget about heroes with “villainous” Quirks. Closest I can think of is Gang Orca, and people warmed up to him really quickly; I know a lot of people even call him “cute.” Me on the other hand, I’m creepy because my Quirk scares other people.

And after watching the fight against Antaeus, I bet people think Mr. Zombieman has an “evil” Quirk. I guess technically there’s a cool factor of just getting up when he should be dead, but the way he used it makes people think he’s evil. Because when he fought Antaeus it was goddamn terrifying.

I searched him up online. Some people were wondering who he was, others wondering how he matched up to other heroes. But most people were scared and disgusted. I saw a lot of people say they’d rather die than be protected by him. And a lot more wanted to never see him in person, in their lives.

That sounds more like a villain than a hero.

Someone like me, who’s still succeeding somehow.

Someone like me, who’s fought our entire class and won.

That’s who I’m going against.

“Oh, looks like we’re up!” Kendo’s high-pitched, slightly trembling remark shakes him out of his reverie, and Shinso glares up to find the door in front of him rising to reveal the arena. He breathes in deeply before cracking his neck from side to side, then snapping his knuckles. I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine. Just have to show everyone that I have what it takes. I have to win no matter what it takes.

He straightens his back and strides out behind Kendo.

“What do you guys think about Shinso?”

Everyone stirs uncomfortably at Kaminari’s words and glance at each other, willing someone else to say the other word. Deku has his hand tucked beneath his chin and eyes boring holes into the ground, and no one seems like they want to say anything, so the silence passes.

About ten seconds in, Ochako shifts slightly and clears her throat. “Uh, I haven’t had the chance to talk to him a lot, but he seems… nice?”

“Y-yeah. He looks nice, maybe a little weird.” Jirou folds her arms and frowns, glancing at everyone. “I dunno, I don’t think he actually talked to any of us here too much.”

“Pretty much… ”

“He seemed like he wasn’t used to fitting in.” Deku frowns slightly as his mouth begins to move, perhaps even without him knowing. “I got the feeling that he was a little scared by the attention, so I left him alone, but–wait, come to think of it, what’s even his Quirk again?”

Everyone blinks again, glances at each other again, then shrugs. Mina raises her eyebrows slightly as she stares at Deku. “Aren’t you the one with all the Quirk notebooks? If you don’t know it, none of us do.”

“...Maybe we should be nicer to that guy.”

“Yeah.”

The murmurs of assent quiet down as the screen flickers, before flashing into color. Everyone leans forward to stare intently at the arena.

Is this a zombie movie?

That’s the first thought streaking through Ochako’s head, and judging from the quiet murmurs from those around her, it seems like they have the exact same thought. There’s a layout of small, comfortable-looking houses surrounding a road and blocked close enough together to be efficient but far away enough not to be cramped, just like in the last exam. But unlike the last exam, windows are shattered, walls are crumbling, paint is peeling, trees are sagging and the grass is overgrown. There’s a fog that obscures the room and the roof of the arena is closed up, hiding the sun and illuminating the room only with flickering lights.

She half expects to see corpses picking themselves out of the earth and stumbling around, groaning for human brains. But the only people in the arena are a hero and two students.

Zombieman is in his regular trench coat, but it seems a lot flatter than usual and his trademark ax is nowhere in sight. His hands are shoved in his pocket and he glares forward at the two students, red eyes gleaming. Almost perfectly fitting the role of a zombie with his unnaturally pale skin. His handicap must be no weapons, because he’s not carrying any. So there shouldn’t be any in his coat either.

Across the arena, Kendo breathes in deeply before waving her hands out in front of her and clapping them together. Ochako isn’t sure if she’s looking right, but it seems that her fingers all increase slightly before decreasing back into their original shape. She seems to be avoiding meeting Zombieman’s eyes, because she’s shifting all over the place except looking at him.

On the other hand, Shinso is perfectly still, hands by his side and glaring right back at the pro hero. Almost like a mirror of the hero, with the same unnatural pale skin, the same intense glare, the same furious twitching as if ready to leap into action at any time. Unlike the other students, he’s clad in the UA sports uniform, still without a suit of his own, but somehow he makes it threatening, not comical.

Ochako’s breath catches as Kendo seems to finally finish her stretching or whatever she’s doing, and taps her hands to her sides before nodding slightly and bounces on the balls of her heels. The loudspeaker crackles slightly before someone clears their throat. “Ahem… readygetsetgo.”

Kendo pauses to stare at the speaker for a second, eyes wide, as neither Zombieman nor Shinso hesitate at all to throw themselves forward, bouncing across the road and flying at each other. It seems like Zombieman didn’t expect Shinso to react so quickly or rush him head-on, because Ochako can just barely make out the hero’s eyes widening slightly before he twists his body so his left shoulder faces forward. He slams into the purple spiky-haired boy with such force it’s almost as if Shinso is bodily picked up and thrown backwards, landing with an ugly crack onto the ground.

Or he would have, if Kendo didn’t snatch him out of the air right before he could hit the ground. As Shinso stumbles back to his feet, Kendo whips around with her fists up, only to freeze.

The hero is nowhere to be seen, having disappeared into the fog like a specter of the night. Kendo glances around wildly before gritting her teeth. “Where did he go?”

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s get to the exit.” Shinso grits his teeth and stamps his foot on the ground once before marching forward, eyes set. Behind him the redhead yelps slightly as he grabs her arm and pulls her along.

“Hey, hey, wait, maybe we should think this out!”

But in spite of the complaints, she follows along anyways, not stopping or trying to pull back.

This feels like a bad idea!

Kendo grits her teeth as Shinso pulls her forward and her foot catches on a rock, trying to keep herself from tripping. “Hey, hey, hey, maybe we should think this out!”

“We just need to get out.” The purple-haired boy turns around and glares at her, almost as if it’s Kendo who he’s fighting. “Let’s go.”

“Where even is the exit?!”

“Somewhere this way, now let’s g–”

A hand bursts out of the fog and clamps itself over Shinso’s mouth, and Kendo has just enough time to see the boy’s eyes widen before he disappears into the fog.

Or he would have, if he hadn’t still been holding her arm. With a yelp, Kendo finds herself flung forward by an unseen force, stumbling onto the ground. She stamps her feet onto the ground and pulls back.

The grunt coming from in front of her seems to say the attacker didn’t expect her either, and for a second she feels herself engaged in some strange tug-of-war with an invisible opponent, grappling for Shinso.

Then all of a sudden the pressure on the other side disappears and she falls backward onto the ground, bringing the boy down with her. Shinso barely wastes time getting back up, springing to his feet the moment he hits the ground, but Kendo stays there, lying down for just a second, her mind running at a million miles a minute. What just happened?!

“Get up!” Shinso’s voice is rough and he grabs her arm again to pull her back up, but Kendo can almost see the fear in his voice. “Stay on your feet!”

She staggers to her feet, swaying slightly as the world spins a little. The fog around them obscures everything, keeping them from understanding just what is going on.

As she sorts everything out in her head, Kendo grits her teeth and raises her head to stare at her partner, who backs away slowly, eyes wide and teeth clenched as well. The two of them stumble backwards, gazes darting back and forth and trying to make out the hero in the shadows.

She leans over to the purple-haired boy and hisses as quietly as possible, breath ragged. “What’s our plan?!”

“What plan?!”

“We have to get out of here somehow!”

Shinso snarls, before sighing. “If I bait him out, can you beat him one-on-one?”

“What?”

“You heard me. I’ll bait him out, and you take him down if you can, or run.”

Kendo puffs out another breath, before shaking her head. “I’m not 100% sure I can.”

“Well, you got any better idea?!”

She pauses, glancing at her partner, before groaning. “If we don’t pass, it’s not my fault.”

The curtain of steam seems to shatter as Shinso sprints out, speeding towards the gate. He doesn’t look left or right, only forward as he races to freedom.

For a single staggered second of shock and silence, he runs alone, not followed or stopped by anything or anyone. Then as a second passes, another figure explodes into visibility, a ghastly shadow storming towards the boy. Trench coat fluttering in the wind, it’s as if Zombieman returned from the world of the dead to lunge at the purple-haired student.

It really wouldn’t be out of place in a zombie movie.

Kendo grits her teeth before leaping out of the fog herself, shrieking as she runs. “HEEEEEYYYYY!!!”

Both Shinso and Zombieman stumble and wince, and turn to look back at her, just in time to see her slam her shoulder into the hero with full force. Zombieman staggers a bit but he barely moves, and the girl winces. My shoulder hurts!

The hero curls his fingers around her arm, before swinging his body. Kendo yelps as she’s lifted up into the air, before being slammed down into the ground, hard. The wind bursts out of her lungs and she croaks as she bounces, before landing on the ground again.

Dimly, she can see the hero turn and run forward, and for a second she just stays down, eyes swimming. What just happened?

Then she grits her teeth, raises her head before turning onto her stomach. She pushes herself to her feet, staggering before regaining her balance and stumbling in the direction of the student and the hero.

In the distance, she watches dumbly as Zombieman leaps in front of Shinso, drawing his arm back as he swings into the boy’s vision. Shinso seems to have opened his mouth to try and say something, only for the hero to slam his fist into the boy’s stomach. As the purple-haired boy falls like a brick, Kendo grits her teeth and runs again.

I have to think of a different way to beat him.

As Zombieman picks up the other student by the collar, the orange-haired girl bounds forward, catching the hero’s attention. He swings his gaze over to her just a split second before she sweeps her hand forward, slamming it into the hero’s face as it expands, becoming the size of a massive fan. Zombieman’s upper body swings back a little bit but he barely budges, before grabbing her wrist to drag her backwards, dropping Shinso in the process. Kendo yelps as she trips forward, forcing her to stop a prepared follow-up punch to try and loosen his grip, to no avail. It’s as if claws of steel are latched on her arm, digging into her skin and impossible to loosen.

“Stop!” The strangled wheeze from the ground has both hero and student glance towards Shinso, who rises slowly to his feet, gagging. “Stop!”

Zombieman doesn’t say a single word, doesn’t even open his mouth. He only narrows his eyes before swinging his arm to the side. Kendo tumbles to the ground as he slips his grip from her wrist to her hand, snapping it backwards at an unnatural angle. A thousand burning knives slash into her arm and a shriek is torn from her lungs as she falls to the ground, unable to talk or think or stop the pain. She can’t even activate her Quirk, nor can she try to grab back.

“You call yourself a hero?! You call yourself a hero when you can do this to students, people who just want to serve society, without any remorse?” Shinso’s roar has a taunting echo, but it’s hollow and fragile and artificial. What stands out far more is the desperation leaking into his voice, cracking as it goes up a few octaves towards the end. Again, he gets no response except for Zombieman cocking his head and glancing at Shinso as he twists his arm again, getting another scream from Kendo.

Then all of a sudden the searing feeling disappears as Zombieman turns to Shinso, dropping Kendo’s hand and twisting around to block a kick that just bounces off of him. From her spot on the ground, grabbing at and body curled around her wrist, Kendo can only watch as the hero wraps his arm around Shinso’s leg, before kicking his other one out from under him, forcing him into the splits. The purple-haired boy howls, before the hero slips to the side, letting go of his leg and twisting behind him. A single slip of his arms locks them around the purple-haired boy’s throat, crushing it back and forcing Shinso to bring all his focus on loosening the hero’s iron grip.

“If you’re going to say something, say what you mean.” As the student writhes and chokes in his grasp, Zombieman glares apathetically, leaning down a bit to be clearer. “Don’t tell me baiting me with your quirk was your only plan.”

Kendo staggers to her feet for the third time in what feels like half as many seconds, and wobbles slightly as she raises her hands to a fighting stance. He’s not letting me use my Quirk. If I make my hands bigger, I hit Shinso. If I keep them small, I don’t do enough damage. Even when it’s just one-on-one, he’s fast enough that making my hands larger only makes it easier for him to dodge.

I can’t beat him like this. My Fist of Flowing Water isn’t good enough to do anything right now, and he has a plan against everything else I can do.

I want to pass, but then again, I can’t just leave Shinso behind!

She breathes in shakily, before exhaling.

Then lunges forward with the last of her energy.

Zombieman raises his head with a bored expression on his face, before lashing his foot out, catching her on the knee without letting go of Shinso. The inferno from before flares up again, this time in her leg, and the world spins. Kendo hits the ground hard, gasping as she does. Her vision blurs, her senses blink, and the world flashes black for a second.

“You’re too predictable.” The hero’s voice floats through the air, cold and cutting even through the tired, groggy haze. “At least try to do something different.”

That’s the last thing Kendo hears before everything goes black.

“Nice show you put on out there.”

“Thanks.” Zombieman flicks the lighter on, touching it to the tip of his cigarette before shaking his box towards Aizawa. “Want one?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Damn.”‘ He slips the box of cigarettes back into his coat, before taking the one in his mouth out, puffing up smoke. “Makes sense, I guess. If I wasn’t immortal, I wouldn’t smoke. I only do it because my regeneration means nothing bad’s ever going to happen from it.”

“... I see.” Aizawa glances down the hall, staring at the room labeled Infirmary. “... Shinso seemed particularly… angry… at you.”

“Kid told me I’m his idol a few days ago. Should have told him it was a bad idea.” The undead hero slips his head back to rest it against the wall, sighing heavily as he does. “He has some idea stuck in his head that there are good Quirks and bad Quirks, and that he has a bad Quirk. So apparently I’m one of those people with a ‘bad Quirk,’ and since I’m not a complete failure I’m his god now.”

“... It’s not just him, you know.” Aizawa groans before slamming his head against the wall, bringing it back then hitting the wall again. “That’s society.”

Zombieman pauses, staring at the other teacher with narrowed eyes and a slightly open mouth. “What?”

“... We’ll talk about it later. What grade would you give them?”

“Lowest grade.” The hero snorts before tossing his cigarette down the hall again. It lands in the can down the hall, and Zombieman smirks a little before growing serious again. “Them not hurting me was pretty much expected, but their game plan was pretty weak. Actually, I don’t think they had anything beyond baiting me out.”

“Still, a zero is pretty harsh, isn’t it?” Aizawa raises an eyebrow as if impressed, and the undead hero lowers his own. “Even I don’t like giving those out.”

“Honestly, I’d give a zero to most of the groups. None of them really acted like heroes, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t.”

“... I think this setting is a bit unfair for a test, to be honest.” Zombieman crosses his arms and leans back against the wall once more, breathing in and out audibly. “The option to just run away shouldn’t be there. You either beat the monster or you die trying. That’s how it is.”

Aizawa raises his other eyebrow, and stays silent for a second before opening his mouth. “So everyone that got away by running… ”

“Even if they did get away, the villain got the chance to run. If they wanted one person to get away, they should have had one completely distract the villain while the other ran, from the start. Everyone has this idea that they should jump the bad guy and be the cool hero instead of being the smart hero.”

“... They’re not supposed to be perfect.” Eraserhead leans back against the wall as well and rubs his head. “I always go around threatening to kick them out if they don’t perform well, and I’ll do it, but only if they’re just not supposed to be there. Like I’m not going to let someone who can’t use their arms and legs kill themselves. But if they can be a hero, and they have the resolve, that’s good enough.”

“You’re in the middle of a crisis. You need the best of everyone.”

“We need everything we can get.” The teacher shrugs and groans, before staring up at the ceiling. “We’ve already lost a lot, and at this point we’re willing to take anything. Besides, no one gets it perfect on their first try. What matters is that we’re willing to teach them. And I guess another thing is, we’re assuming the villains here are hunting down heroes specifically, like your Hero Hunter. Just because the heroes disappear doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll go berserk and murder civilians.”

“Oh.”

Aizawa watches Zombieman for a little bit before rubbing his face. “Next ‘round’ should be starting soon. I want to see this one, I have no idea how King’s going to win without moving at all.”

“Oh, they should have put more of a handicap on him. Those kids won’t be able to put a finger on him.”

“For real?”

“Just watch for yourself.”

Achievement Unlocked: How Did We Get Here?

The thought bubbles around King’s mind as he stands still in the middle of the arena, arms crossed and teeth clenched, trying to keep them from shivering. This is the worst. No Saitama to save me, and I’m about to get beat up by a bunch of kids. Everyone’s going to figure out I’m a fake. There’s nothing I can do.

He can feel his heart begin to pick up speed, to start to jog, as words stream out of God-knows-where. “Aaaaaaaaand… get ready… get set… Kaminari, get back in place… go!”

He closes his eyes and presses his lips together. Just get it over with, just get it over with!

The moment the match begins, Mina cups her hands around each other, mind racing, before freezing. Next to her, Kaminari does the same as thunder crackles around his fingertips, and his eyes widen. Both of them turn to look at the other with wide eyes before turning back slowly to the sight in front of them.

The man in front of them stands tall, eyes boring through them like a piercing drill, arms crossed and head held high, eyes glaring down at them. Compared to the two of them, he’s a behemoth, a giant waiting to strike.

Just the image is unnerving enough, even to people who fought tooth and nail for their lives against forces that cornered and overpowered the strongest man in the world, but what really puts the icing on the cake is the steady beat in the air, drumming with power and fury.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

What choice do the students have other than to freeze and stare in terror?

No one smirks or chuckles when Mina and Kaminari come back, drenched with sweat, eyes wide and panting heavily as if they were just engaged in a fight for their lives. Even if all they did was stand there for minutes on end, no one makes fun of them.

In fact, everyone stares with wide eyes at each other, trying to find the words and failing.

“... No wonder they call him King.” Jirou sinks back into her seat with a groan, slapping her face. “That was… ”

Scary…

“W-well.” Mina manages a shaky grin at Ochako, swiping aside the fountain of sweat pouring down her face. “G-good luck, you two.”

“Y-yeah.” Kaminari shoots them a thumbs up and tries to grin, but the way his eyes flicker back and forth, it seems so obviously fake, so obviously scared. For the first time Ochako looks around and realizes how empty the room is.

It’s just me, Deku, Jirou, Mina and Kaminari. Everyone else is in the infirmary.

It makes her feel smaller than before.

She breathes in and out raggedly, before turning to Deku and managing her own fake smile. “S-so, at least we know what to expect from Miruko, right?”

“I-I-I-I hope so.” Deku doesn’t look up, just stares down at his hands and grits his teeth. “A-actually, probably not as bad as you think, since she’s hurt… probably.”

The two exchange glances before staring down at their feet. The silence stretches into a second, then two, then five, before Jirou claps her hands. “Oi, come on. Miruko can’t be any worse than Demon Cyborg or King.”

“Y-yeah, we should be fine. Come on.”

She stumbles to her feet before turning around and offering the greenette a hand. He stares dumbly at it for a second before reaching out and grabbing it, letting her pull him to his feet.

As they file out the door silently, Ochako wishes she could say something, but nothing manages to claw its way out of her throat.

“That is your other disciple, eh?” Bang taps his shoulder into Saitama’s side, and the bald man nods silently, crossing his arms and sitting up straight as the two students stumble into the arena. Neither are big or muscular, and they look a lot more like kids on halloween than actual heroes.

“May I take a seat here?” Both bald man and old man raise their eyebrows and turn to see a blond behemoth stumble over to the sofa they’re sitting on, and gently ease himself onto it. The previous two inhabitants glance at each other, before shrugging and nodding at the newcomer, who shoots them a signature grin. “Many thanks, heroes!”

“You got something to do with the kid?” Saitama nudges his chin at the green-haired boy, and instantly he can see the blond man’s eyes widen a little bit. This is the guy I ran into the other day, right? The one who talked about not being a real hero or whatever… What was his name? All Night? All Right? No, it was something dumber than that… All Might! It was All Might!

The hero’s shadowed eyes flash from side to side, and his smile grows quivery and nervous as he raises his hands as if in denial, before his shoulders slump and he nods, a little subdued. “He’s my… student.”

“Oh. I see.” The Caped Baldy narrows his eyes and glares at the screens showing the boy and the girl, eyes scanning the boy through his strange green costume, before shaking his head. “We have a lot to worry about, then.”

“Hm? Why do you say that?”

“I agree with Saitama.” Old Man Bang nods with his hands somehow behind his back even while sitting down, face serious and eyes cold. “From what I have seen from classes, Midoriya’s potential is excellent thanks to his Quirk, but… that is about it. He lacks everything but power. No technique and no knowledge of when to use that power, and that holds him back far too much.”

All Might presses his lips together tightly and looks away, and Saitama glances at him before down at himself, at the arms folded in front of him. He must feel like he hasn’t taught the kid enough…

I know I’m technically just her training buddy rather than an actual teacher, but I kinda became her teacher somehow, I guess. But have I taught her enough?

... No, not really.

“Oh look, there is Miruko.” Bang’s musing breaks the bald hero out of his, and he looks up to see the rabbit-eared woman stroll into the arena. Unlike the heroes before her, she isn’t in any costume, instead being dressed simply in a white t-shirt and black shorts exposing enough skin to show off countless barely-healed scars and bandages wrapped around her body. She has a rabbit-ear headband on, but that’s about it for the fanciness. There’s a cocky grin on her face, but just one look tells Saitama that she’s nervous – her lips are quivering slightly, and she bounces up and down a little, as if trying to get a feel for something.

“I hope she doesn’t push herself too far.” The old martial artist’s voice is filled with equal parts anticipation and worry, and he brings a hand up to cover one of the lights, staring at the screen with narrow eyes. “But at the same time, she should give them a good fight… But I also hope Midoriya can put up a good showing… But I also want to see what Uraraka can do… ”

“Let’s just watch quietly.”

And so the three lapse into silence, sitting back with all three of them crossing their arms and narrowing their eyes as Nezu leans forward into the microphone. “THE FINAL MATCH! ARE YOU READY? STEADY? NOT YET? MIRUKO, I’M TALKING TO YOU? GO!”

The moment the words come out of Nezu’s mouth, all three of them run. Just like the last seven rounds.

Except now, the only one running towards the other side is Miruko.

Ochako goes left, Deku goes right, both race to the side of the arena as fast as possible as Miruko skids to a halt, whipping her head back and forth as she stares in surprise. The brunette doesn’t bother staring, but instead speeds towards the sides of the arena as fast as possible, pumping her legs with all her might.

If she had to say, the arena seems to be about a hundred meters in radius, and the outsides are covered by trees and bushes. While the exit isn’t visible from their starting point by any means, it has to be somewhere on the walls.

The plan Deku came up with was simple. “One of us finds the exit, then leaves. If Miruko finds the one at the exit before they can leave, the captured one says they’re at the exit and holds on for as long as possible until the other one can show up.”

And the arena’s small enough that the two of us can try and find an exit fast enough. Miruko needs to be really, really fast or really, really lucky if she can grab one of us before the other finds the exit.

She slams her hand against the wall, which is painted green as if to give off the illusion of a grassy forest, and drags it along as she runs through it, feeling for a crack. As she hears Miruko shout and run, she grits her teeth and begins to move faster.

She doesn’t get far before she feels a hand clamp down on her arm and whirls around to find Miruko behind her, a wide grin splitting her face. “FOUND YOU!”

Ochako doesn’t have time to react before the hero’s fingers tighten around her arm, and the next thing she knows, she’s flying into the wall, and all the air is smashed out of her lungs. Instinctively, she sucks in a breath, inhaling sharply as she recoils from the impact, curving away from the wall.

Miruko gives her a wide, almost sadistic grin as she draws her bandaged arm back, curling cloth-wrapped fingers into a fist. Her other arm shoots forward and grabs the brunette by the throat, shoving her back into the wall and cutting off her air. Immediately, Ochako clamps her hands around the heroine’s wrist, trying to pull the hand off of her neck, but even wounded, the heroine clamps onto her like an iron vise.

“AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Both heroine and heroine-in-training stop what they’re doing and turn to stare at the ball of green hurtling towards them, fist raised and cocked behind him and mouth open as he screams what Ochako thinks is supposed to be a war cry, but sounds a lot more like someone who realized jumping off a cliff was a bad idea after doing it. From what Ochako’s seen of Miruko on the news, the rabbit heroine would normally be able to parry Deku easily, especially given how the greenette gave himself away almost instantly with his scream, but it looks like Miruko was caught completely off guard, because she just stands there, jaw almost hitting the floor and arm limp as she tries to comprehend what the hell is running at her.

And so she lets herself get smacked in the face by a wild haymaker.

The punch smashes into her cheek and it sends the heroine staggering. She lets go of Ochako and skids back about twenty steps, before stopping herself and raising her head to grit her teeth and put up her fists.

Even though his signature green thunder crackles around him and his fist is beginning to glow with veins of crimson electricity, Deku’s punch only seems to have glanced off of Miruko. The rabbit heroine’s face isn’t particularly swollen or even red, and she seems more annoyed than genuinely hurt and angry. Meanwhile, even though he isn’t breathing heavily and doesn’t seem too hurt, sweat is already beginning to pour down Deku’s face as he takes his place next to Ochako, placing her between him and the wall.

Ochako lets herself hack for breath for another few seconds, before bringing herself back upright. She taps her arm against the wall, trying to latch onto it without slipping down, searching for a footing. Everything hurts but the past month with Mr Saitama has made her strong enough to be able to shrug something like that off. As she rises, her eyes remain narrow and focused, glaring at the heroine.

This time, she catches the moment when Miruko bounds forward, and she manages to swing herself backward, dodging the roundhouse kick that slams into the concrete. It doesn't shatter the wall and for a brief moment Ochako takes comfort in the fact that the attacks are nowhere near as strong as Miruko could have made them.

Then she forgets it all in favor of bouncing and stumbling backwards as the heroine’s fist lances right at her. Deku blinks in surprise for a second before swerving to the side, his electricity crackling once more as he draws his arm back before launching it forward with another high-pitched shriek tearing itself from his lungs. Miruko stomps the ground before using it to springboard backwards, long before his wild smash crushes the wall. The punch craters solid concrete and metal, and Ochako’s eyes instantly shift to Deku’s arm, which is already beginning to bend at unnatural angles. He can’t do too many more of those, can he?!

The rabbit heroine swings her leg up, catching Deku right in the ribs, and Ochako can hear the greenette choking and retching as he’s bodily lifted into the air and thrown backwards. She lunges forward and catches him, and grits her teeth, flicking her eyes up towards Miruko before gritting her teeth. Deku showed up but I didn’t find the gate… We have to run.

Just as she finishes the thought, her eyes catch Miruko launching herself at them once more, and instinctively swats at the blur that is a heroine. As a powerful kick smashes the wind out of her, Ochako manages to slap all five fingers onto something, and as she stumbles backwards before rolling to see what happened, her eyes widen before narrowing.

Miruko seems a little surprised and maybe a bit irritated by the fact that all of a sudden, she’s floating gently in the air, bobbing around without a care in the world. As she twists and turns to find any sort of way to get free, Ochako grabs Deku and shakes him, making sure her pinkies don’t touch him. “Hey, hey!”

The greenette groans, before shaking his hand at her. As she sits back, the boy manages to stagger onto his feet, before falling back onto his knees. “I’ll… be… give me a minute…”

Ochako glances up at the rabbit heroine, who’s waving her arms in the air seemingly aimlessly, before grabbing Deku by the armpits and hoisting him onto his feet. “We gotta find the gate, let’s go—”

Miruko’s feet tap onto the wall of the arena, and as Ochako’s eyes widen, the heroine crouches on the wall before firing herself forward like a missile, flipping so her feet smash into a nearby tree, letting her ricochet back onto the wall as she repeats the same somersault, bouncing closer to the two students. She figured out a counter?!

Whether or not it actually works, Ochako grabs Deku and sprints, letting all five fingers tap his shoulder so she can haul him around easier. “We need to go!”

Deku groans in response, and when she looks at his arm again, his hand is already beginning to swell and is colored an ugly purple. He’s going to hurt himself again!

She sprints forward, eyes scanning for the gate, before Deku groans again. “I’m going to… urp… be sick…”

Without thinking, Ochako claps her fingers together, and by the time she realizes what she just did, Miruko’s footsteps begin exploding towards her at a frightening speed.

Oh.

The moment she sees rabbit ears, Ochako lashes out, but Miruko easily slaps aside her jab and returns one of her own, slamming her fist into the wannabe-heroine’s throat. It stings, and the Ochako of before USJ would have collapsed and been writhing on the floor a long time ago. But that’s a different Ochako and this one is sturdy enough to remain standing and follow up the exchange with a hook to the face.

It’s blocked, of course, but Miruko visibly winces as it slams into her bandaged forearm. Her returning uppercut thwacks Ochako in the gut, but it’s a lot weaker than what she was expecting. Nevertheless, it still hurts, and the girl with the gravity quirk stumbles backward, fingers slapping rocks and branches as she flails around.

Miruko’s hands are bleeding.

That’s the first thing she thinks as the rabbit heroine raises her fists back into a sloppy fighting stance, before launching herself forward like a rocket. As she dodges the kick, Ochako’s eyes narrow as she notes the sweat dripping down Miruko’s face and her breathing becoming faster and heavier. She’s definitely hurt and out of shape. I don’t think she can use her hands too well, judging from all the kicks, and her stamina won’t last much longer.

Ochako raises her arms fast enough to block a barrage of blows as she glances around her, noting all the debris floating in the air from her floundering about just a few heartbeats earlier. Miruko bounces back half a step, and as Ochako draws her arms down slowly, gritting her teeth as she feels the sting in her arms, the hero shakes her fists slightly, glancing at her bandages and their slowly growing red stains.

Miruko lashes out again, this time swinging her leg and sending it scything across the air. Ochako manages to step back and avoid getting hit, but the moment her foot touches the ground Miruko plants it firmly then flickers forward and swings her other leg forward, forcing Ochako to leap to the side to avoid it. She rolls and lands on her feet, before throwing herself backward as the heroine stomps the ground she was just squatting on.

Before the heroine can do anything else, she whirls around again and leaps back, again, before Deku throws himself out of nowhere, arms grasping at thin air. His punching arm is bending in three more places than it should, and his face is visibly strained, one eye bloodshot and seemingly about to burst. He stumbles from the missed grapple and smacks against the wall, turning to face Miruko as he does, showing her his whole unguarded front.

Ochako lunges before the heroine can actually do anything, and tightening her fist, throws it forward at the heroine’s gut. Miruko notices just in time to barely twirl out of the way of an initial body shot, but Ochako takes another step forward and fires off two more punches.

The heroine swings away from both of them, and Ochako narrows her eyes as she notes how the rabbit heroine keeps her arms close to her body, making sure they touch as little as possible. Her arms are hurt. I can use that.

Caught up with this thought, she doesn’t notice the roundhouse kick flickering her way before it’s too late.

Deku lunges forward, his other, unharmed arm now drawn back, and roars as he swings a brutal haymaker, crackling with emerald thunder. “PLUS ULTRA!”

Miruko’s eyes widen slightly and she back-steps quickly, dodging the attack, but that means she has to put her leg down, meaning Ochako doesn’t get hit, meaning the gravity girl can attack instead of recover from a blow she never received.

She lunges forward and reaches out for Miruko’s arm; the heroine’s eyes widen as all five fingers tap onto her skin. Ochako allows herself a grin, pausing for just a moment to revel in a small victory.

In just that moment, Miruko’s right leg snakes around Ochako’s back, pinning her arms to her body, the left curls around her head, and all of a sudden the brunette can’t move or see.

What?!

She frantically taps her fingers against Miruko, but all that does is anchor the heroine in place, keeping her from floating off the ground. Distantly, she feels the heroine’s hands grabbing at her own and slamming them together.

All of a sudden the weight is back and Ochako plummets as does Miruko. The heroine lets go of her stranglehold before hitting the ground, rolling away safely, while Ochako barely manages to catch herself, gasping as she finds her face an inch off the ground.

“DELAWARE… SMASH!”

Her eyes shoot upwards and she gawks as, for the third time in half as many minutes, Deku lunges forward, fist back and ready to punch. Unlike the other two times, Miruko is just getting to her feet and regaining her balance. The heroine’s eyes widen as an unusually large amount of thunder crackles around the greenette’s arm, and Ochako’s eyes widen at the shout that accompanies it.

A special move?! In the style of All Might?!

Miruko throws herself back onto her butt, before digging her feet into the ground. She tenses, before shoving herself to the side, just far away enough from the inevitable blow.

Deku’s fist smashes into the ground.

The ground explodes.

Ochako throws herself to the side, feeling her hands drag through the dirt and scraping her skin. Dirt and pebbles pelt her skin and forced her to stay down. There’s probably a ton of tiny scars lashing through her skin but she barely notices, or cares really. What’s more important is that she scrambles to her feet the moment she can and waves aside the dust, gagging as she does so.

A single slash from her hand cuts through the veil of dirt and she grits her teeth, narrowing her eyes as she stares at the scene in front of her, before her eyes widen.

Deku’s twisted, mangled, shattered arm rests lightly on the ground, and his head is thrown back by Miruko’s foot planted in his face. Blood streams over his face, and the heroine gasps from her spot on the ground, lying still as she tries to catch her breath.

As Deku falls to the ground, eyes rolling up to the back of his head and both arms deformed, Ochako lunges forward, bringing her own fist back. Miruko, panting and sweating with her hands stained red and clenched close to her body, again just barely manages to look up before Ochako strikes.

This time, though, it’s far too late for her to react.

Ochako whips her fist across the air into Miruko’s gut, and the heroine retches as the blow connects. She recoils backwards, being thrown up off the ground, rising as the gravity girl’s fist drives her up, before Ochako swings out, throwing her off and letting her fall. Miruko is thrown up several feet before beginning her arc back down to the ground, and the student watches numbly, mouth slightly open and eyes wide.

Did… did I do that?

Distantly, a corner of her mind notices the dirt and grime falling from the sky, released from her Quirk. That’s strange.

I never let them go.

The thud of the rabbit heroine hitting the ground snaps her back to reality. Ochako takes a step back, then two, before turning all the way around. She grabs the unconscious Deku, hoisting him over her shoulder like a sack of rice — he’s skinny, but was he always this light? — and running for the exit.

There’s nothing to stop her from completing the exam now.

“… How interesting.”

Nezu strokes his chin as he squints at the monitors, watching Uraraka stumble out of the gate with about thirty seconds to spare. “I’m not sure what in the world happened there, but they won, somehow.”

“That last hit was way too strong to be a lucky sucker punch.” Zombieman crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, quiet voice asserting itself over the low chatter. “Even if she did get lucky, it wouldn’t have picked up and thrown the rabbit like that.”

“Well, we can think about that later.” Nezu turns around to face the room, eyes scanning it before they land on All Might. The massive blond hero is crouched on his sofa, engaged in a quiet, murmuring conversation with Saitama. Nezu stares at the hero for a few seconds, noting the tired flopping gestures of his hands and the barely perceptible, forced smile on his face, before turning to Aizawa. “What do you say?”

“Well, obviously they both pass. But Midoriya has a lot more problems than Uraraka, and Uraraka herself is far from perfect.” Aizawa snorts slightly as he shifts on his chair, scooting back so his back is to the seat. “They have the best teamwork out of anyone, really, and that was only because Uraraka played it smart, using Midoriya’s ambushes to her advantage. And neither of them have particularly good combat sense or skill, either.”

“We’ll talk about it later, but I was talking more about Miruko.”

“Oh. Wait, what?”

“This was a test for her too, though she didn’t know it.” Nezu taps at the screen that holds the frame of the rabbit-eared woman curled up in the fetal position, still gagging for air. “I don’t think we can allow her to come back to hero work, as she is now, can we?”

“Definitely not. I know she was probably holding back a lot herself, but we didn’t put any handicaps on her and she honestly did pretty terrible in comparison to before Tokyo.” Aizawa grunts, sliding back down his chair again and rubbing a hand on his forehead. “She probably messed up her hands even more, and she was playing it way too cautiously. Even if we say that’s only because she was trying to go easy, there’s no way she doesn’t become more than death fodder without healing up more.”

“I’d agree. Seemed pretty lackluster to me.” Zombieman snorts slightly, glaring at the screen, before turning to Nezu. “It’s never happened to me before, but I know getting injured changes heroes a lot. I’ve seen a lot of vigilantes get killed by weaker monsters because they were still recovering from a broken rib or two. Though now that I think about it, I’ve never seen a hero get killed like that… or at all…”

The rat-bear principal nods quietly before crossing his arms and letting out a hearty laugh. “Well, I suppose the first years are done with their tests now. They should have a few days to rest, eh?”

“Most of them are going to have to rest because you can’t do anything with a cracked ribcage.” Aizawa’s low, sarcastic drawl cuts through the room, before he snorts and shakes his head, almost admiringly. “Those idiots are going to be training day and night the moment they get better, and I’m sure Kan would agree with me if he wasn’t in the infirmary.”

“Well, of course they will. They have the sports festival coming up!” Nezu grins mischievously, with a bit of the same energy that had animated him before Tokyo, and he taps his tiny clawed fingers together with glee. As he turns his chair around to face the entire room, individual conversations come to a stop and every face turns to look at his. “Now, how should we change that from the results of these tests?”

Chapter Text

“I don’t think I need to say that things are going to be very different this year, for the Sports Festival. So today, we’re going to introduce what it is to the… newcomers, and then we’ll talk about how we should change it.”

Nezu stands at the front of the room, eyes circling around for any dissent. When he doesn’t find any, he nods, then turns around to the large screen behind him. “We have a video here from past Sports Festivals.”

When the rat-bear-principal taps on the wall, the lights flicker off, and the screen flashes into life. Nezu takes a few steps back before dropping onto a seat, and he leans forward, elbows on his legs. He doesn’t bother watching the footage – he knows exactly what happens, because he’s watched it over and over. Six minutes and forty-three seconds of clumsy first years stumbling through the obstacle course for the first time, second years moving faster and hitting harder but still tripping over some unexpected obstacles, and third years flying through everything, dancing around each other in the final tournament as they try to smash their opponent out of the ring or strangle them unconscious.

Instead, he watches the six heroes – and Zenko – staring intently at the screen, eyes narrow. They don’t move or talk much, nor do they seem as impressed as Nezu would like them to be, but they do seem a little surprised. Every once in a while Saitama raises an eyebrow and Bang nods a little, but other than that they’re motionless.

Then the video flickers to an end and Nezu hops out of his chair and towards the wall. Tapping it twice again makes the lights click on, and a few people yelp at the sudden brightness. “Obviously, the biggest issue is that we don’t have as many people as usual.” He folds his hands and turns to stare at the room, eyes gliding across the various teachers. “No one from outside the Hero Course has signed up, and we only have sixty-four students total from across all three years combined – sixteen first years, sixteen second years, thirty-two third years.”

“On top of that, since the finals were harder than usual, students from all three years are pretty significantly injured, and we don’t have a guarantee that all of them will heal in the two weeks they have until the Sports Festival.” Aizawa puffs up his cheeks and breathes out, leaning forward as he does so. “We already had a changed schedule planned out, but we need to tweak it a bit more.”

“We should definitely scrap the Cavalry game we were planning on.” Present Mic sits back in his chair, hands folded behind his head. “I was against it before finals, and I don’t like it any more now. Being the ‘legs’ of a team might end up making their wounds permanent.”

“I think we should take out the obstacle course as well.” Vlad King folds his arms and nods quietly, as if confirming he made the right choice. “It might be too similarly stressful.”

“But then all we’re left with is the final tournament, and that’s no fun at all.” Midnight groans slightly and slaps a hand to her forehead. “ I’d love to have all the screen time but that’s going to be way too boring.”

“I do agree with Present Mic that we should remove the Cavalry game, and with Vlad King that the obstacle course will not work well.” Everyone turns to see All Might rumbling from his spot on the side, flashing the same large smile as always, just a little more thoughtful than usual. “However, I also believe we must compensate for that in some way, and we should keep three events, no matter what they are.”

“Same here.” Aizawa leans on his palm, frowning slightly, before sighing. “What are they even going to be competing for, though? All spots in the tournament are guaranteed for first and second years already, since there aren’t any extra competitors this time. We need to give them some kind of incentive.”

“Maybe we could do a point system and let them pick what position they want depending on how many points they have? Fifteen points for first place, fourteen for second, and so on until last place gets nothing. And we do something different for the third years.” Cementoss folds his arms as well, narrowing his eyes. “Or do two events for the first and second years, and the results of the first event decides who picks when for the tournament.”

“Have we ever let them choose by themselves?”

“Well, first time for everything. It’ll be a strange thing in a strange time.”

“Hm.”

“Personally, I think that’s a good idea. We do already have plans for an obstacle course, and we can just use the same one, except this time it’s for points; I don’t think it should be too bad, and we’ll have Chiyo on standby for that too. It would be unfortunate to take that out, since it’s been a staple for as far as I can remember.” Nezu leans back in his seat and smiles. “At least, that’s what I think. Does anyone have any other thoughts?”

Everyone glances around the room, but no one raises their hand or voice in protest, and they all turn back to the principal, who smiles. “Well, does anyone have any ideas for a second event?”

Once again everyone glances around the room. Once again no one raises their hand or voice. Once again they all turn back to the principal.

“... Well, that’s unfortunate.” Nezu shrugs slightly before leaning back in his chair. “If anyone has any ideas, preferably making it a tiny bit harder than usual, please tell me by… say… tomorrow. I’ll work on finalizing the plans for the obstacle course and the tournament, and if I don’t get any ideas we’ll do those two only. That’ll be all.”

“Hey, Deku! All alone today?”

“Oh, hi, Uraraka.”

Ochako frowns and narrows her eyes at the greenette, who turns away from her gaze. “Deku? Something wrong?”

“Just not feeling well.”

That much seems obvious. His usually wide-eyed, bright face is drawn, eyes half-closed and floating just above dark circles. His movements are sluggish, and his eyes are a little red too, as if he’d been rubbing them for a while.

“Why not?” Of course, if that was enough to chase off Ochako, she would have been a bad friend, so she presses the question. “What happened?”

“Just… tired. And a bit disappointed.”

“By what? You did great yesterday!” She crosses her arms and frowns, staring at him straight in the eyes. The greenette ducks away a bit shyly, just like she’d expect him to. “Neither of us would have been able to take down Miruko alone.”

“Yeah, but… I didn’t really do anything.”

“Sure you did! She was scared of getting hit by you, which is why she kept backing up!”

Deku glances at her for a second, before turning away. “Alright.”

Ochako stands there for a second, slightly confused, before shaking her head and running down the hall. “Well, we have the Sports Festival coming up, so we should start preparing for that, right?”

“For sure. Though it’ll probably look a lot different from usual.” A bit of fire enters Deku’s eyes again as he brings a hand to his chin and frowns. “No people from other classes probably… so they’ll probably switch out the obstacle course and whatever other game they’re planning. But I think they’ll definitely have the tournament…”

“So you’re saying we should practice fighting?”

She can pinpoint the exact moment Deku deflates, and he slumps again, his original despondent face returning. “Yeah… yeah.”

Ochako stares at her friend with worry once more, before shaking her head. “Hey, did you hear about Mina and how she…”

“You’re all training for the Sports Festival today.”

A low murmur ripples through the class at Mr. Aizawa’s words, and he lets it spread for a little bit before clearing his throat. “Now normally, we’d lock you up in a room and have you practice for finals on your own, and we were planning to do that for the Sports Festival, but half of you are more injured victims than heroes. So instead, getting locked up in the room is optional, and you can go to the teachers if you want extra practice. But if you wake me up while I nap, your grade drops a letter. Understand?”

Everyone nods silently.

“Okay then, everyone head over to Gym Gamma or find a teacher. All classes dismissed for the day.”

Iida yawns slightly, before turning to look to his sides. “Where will you go?”

“Hm?” Shinso barely looks up and only grunts in response at first before crossing his arms. “Look for Mr. Silverfang, probably.”

“I’ll look for Mr. Saitama!” Ochako perks up with a grin, gathering her hands together and making sure her pinkies don’t touch. “He gave me some good advice for fighting last time.”

The bespectacled boy puts a hand to his chin thoughtfully. “I believe I should seek out Mr. Silverfang as well. What of you, Midoriya?”

“... Wh-what? Oh, uh, I’ll probably just practice on my own.”

The way he looks to the side without looking anyone in the eye and barely manages a mumble makes Ochako think he has other plans, but she doesn’t press him on them. Instead, she just grins and nods. “Alright then, good luck, guys! I’m gonna go find Mr. Saitama.”

“Let us find Mr. Silverfang, Shinso.”

“Alright.” The purple-haired boy shrugs and stands as the bespectacled boy does, and the two of them amble out of the classroom, Ochako pauses to look back at Deku. The green-haired boy simply stares at his desk, unblinking and unmoving.

The brunette stares at him once more, before turning around to leave.

“There’s no way we can do a third game.”

“Pardon?” Nezu blinks and raises his head at Aizawa’s voice as he and Vlad King enter the office. Eraserhead is as tired-looking as ever – maybe more exhausted than usual – and despite having let himself be beaten to a pulp just a few days earlier, Vlad King looks perfectly fine save a few bandages on his face. Both of them seem as if they’ve both surrendered to something, with tired, disappointed faces meeting the principal.

“Our students try to hide it, but most of them have clear signs of fatigue. In my class, Shiozaki couldn’t show up at all, Monoma appears to be depressed and the other three are all obviously exhausted. I don’t think it’s reasonable to try and expect them to fully heal by the Sports Festival without overburdening Chiyo, while making sure no one permanently hurts themselves.” Vlad King puts a hand to his forehead and exhales sharply, shaking his head as he does. “It’s just too much to expect; they’re training to be professional heroes, yes, but they’re kids.”

“I see.” Nezu nods his head a little, before folding his hands together on the desk and smiling. “Alright, then, we’ll stick with just the obstacle course and tournament.”

Both Eraserhead and Vlad King blink, stare at each other, then turn back to Nezu. “Huh?”

“I said, we’ll just do two games.”

Eraserhead narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “Why… do I feel like you were expecting this to happen?”

“Oh, I wasn’t, it’s just that no one came to me with any ideas.” The principal laughs and leans back in his chair, hands folded behind his head. “So I was already considering making it two events only.”

Vlad King shakes his head, snorting slightly. “One step ahead, eh?”

Nezu smirks, then leans back in his chair and sighs. “For the first time in a while.”

“... I can’t really teach you anything at this point.”

“Huh?” Ochako furls her brow and stops drinking her water, staring at the bald man in front of her. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t have anything to teach, because I don’t know a lot in the first place.” He sighs, leaning back on a tree. “I can’t just teach you to become strong, because that needs time and practice, not just knowing something. And I can’t teach you how to fight, because all I know how to do are basic punches and kicks, which you already know. So there’s nothing left for me to teach you.”

“Oh.” The brunette feels her stomach begin to sink, and she struggles to keep her expression neutral. “Then what… ”

“Hm… We’ll keep the training routine reduced as it is, and I’ll ask someone else to teach you… maybe Zombieman? Sound good?” Mr. Saitama’s face is as impassive as ever, but Ochako can sense a bit of uncertainty swimming around his eyes.

She nods quietly, before smiling. “Alright. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Enji Todoroki opens his eyes slowly, blinking tiredly from his hospital bed. The same ceiling and the same curtains show themselves like they have every single time he’s woken up in the past few weeks. The same old bandages are wrapped around his chest in the form of an X, covering the slashes he took from whatever the hell was at Tokyo, although they’re getting a bit crusty now.

The same machine beeps at his side, measuring his heartbeat quietly and making sure he’s okay, at least physically. A newspaper is at his side, as is a TV remote; a TV has been set in front of his bed so he can watch the news if he pleases. He really doesn’t want to.

When he woke up, the doctors said he was shell shocked. Then someone protested that it had been weeks since he had been injured, and no one had an answer to that. But to Enji Todoroki, the man inside the facade that was Endeavor, shellshocked seems about right. Some part of him still hasn’t been able to register what’s happened, what the rest of the world seems to be tiptoeing around. Some part of his brain still thinks he has both arms, and every now and then he shivers when he remembers he only has one.

He pushes himself backwards so he’s sitting up, leaning against the wall, and stares at his remaining arm. Hard muscle is beginning to melt away from lack of use, and his body is beginning to thin out, going from that of a superman’s to a regular man’s.

A regular father’s.

Once again, regret explodes through his heart, and he rubs his face in his hand. A million words he could say run across his mind, but there’s no one to say them to, so he remains quiet.

A burning chill flutters through his body from the side of the bed.

Silently, he looks up to find a familiar face staring back at him. A red scar, with red and white hair fluttering in the wind. Cold eyes staring into his soul.

All the words he was thinking of just a moment earlier evaporate and Enji gawks as Shoto Todoroki leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, hair fluttering and eyes piercing. Familiar ice crystalizes over his right side and begins to creep over the ground, spearing across the curtained-off room. That much Enji would expect from his son; ice is something the boy has made use of all his life.

What really shocks him are the tiny embers that flare up, climbing higher and higher until the ice is melting as fast as it freezes, leaving puddles on the ground. Soon, Shoto’s entire left side is engulfed in flames, blazing unnoticed as their user glares at his father.

Then Shoto blinks and glances back down at himself. The ice falls off his body and to the ground with a crash as the flames flicker away unceremoniously. For a moment, Enji can see regret and uncertainty flickering across his son’s face, before it fades away and the eyes go cold once more.

For a long second, Shoto glares at his broken and battered father, before rising from his seat. “My victory will be dedicated to Mother. Not you.”

Enji Todoroki, formerly Endeavor, formerly the second strongest hero in Japan, can only watch as his son storms out of the room.

Oh. I wanted to say something.

“At the very least, you know how to punch correctly.”

Ochako groans as she plants her hands on the ground and pushes herself off it. Her arms give out halfway up and her face slams the dirt unceremoniously. She can hear Zombieman sigh, and she looks up to see him staring down at her, hand on his chin, thinking.

“Your stamina’s a bit lacking but that’s a problem you don’t need me to help you with, and it might be because you’re a bit tired out right now. And I doubt teaching you how to kick will do you any good… Eh, I’ll focus on your basic punches and maybe a few other things, if we have time.”

Ochako manages to push herself off the ground and stagger to her feet, groaning. “Thank… thank you very much.”

“I haven’t done anything.” Zombieman takes his hand off his chin and raises his fists to his shoulder level. “… Open one hand and make a fist with the other.”

The brunette tilts her head and raises an eyebrow in confusion as she does so. What’s this supposed to be?

“Now put your fist in your palm, like this.” The hero smacks his fist into his hand like those old martial arts movies, and Ochako follows. “Good, now do this.”

Zombieman pushes his fist with his open hand, thrusting his elbow forward, before glancing back at the girl with his eyebrow raised. Ochako raises an eyebrow but does so slowly.

“Now try that faster.”

Feeling a bit silly now, she raises her hand again and thrusts. Her elbow swings forward, and she looks back at Zombieman, who nods. “That’s one way to do an elbow.”

Ochako raises both eyebrows now, and exhales a bit. “Why not just swing the elbow only then? Why the push?”

“It gives more power, in cases you need it. Regular elbows are a lot faster and easier to do though, so they’re usually better.” The pale hero motions for her to step back, and swings his arm in an uppercut-like motion, except he keeps his arm bent and lets his elbow cut through the air.

“I see.” But I don’t understand. “What makes an elbow better than a punch?”

“Nothing, really.”

“Huh?”

“I just like elbows because they look cool.” Zombieman opens his palms and faces them towards her, shrugging slightly. “It gives you another option if you really need it for the one-in-a-million chance that your opponent gets right in your face and you can’t punch them, but uh, it’s just kinda there. It’s nice to know but you probably shouldn’t use it most of the time. Looks cool though.”

Ochako blinks.

“Really, you just want to stay on your feet and play it smart. Arms up.”

The brunette throws her forearms up in front of her face before Zombieman lashes out with his fists. Like a barrage of gunfire from a machine gun, his punches smack into her arms, and she staggers backwards. The undead hero nods. “Make sure to do that if you start getting overpowered by your opponent. Hunker down and block as much as you can until you can find an opening.”

“A-alright.”

If it was anywhere else, people would be scrambling for cover, screaming in terror at the explosions ripping through the air. As it is, even the normally chatty robots surveying the practice grounds glance nervously at the blonde steaming in the middle of a small crater.

Katsuki Bakugo grinds another burst of air from between gritted teeth. Glaring down at the mess of concrete underneath him, he stands still for a moment before raising his arm up and bringing it back down.

Fire and fury rage across the hole he’s digging for himself before evaporating into gray smoke. Coughing slightly as he waves it aside, the blonde glares down into the ground, gritting his teeth.

“Bakugo failed, huh? I thought of all people, he’d pass…”

“Yeah, I thought he was really strong, but he lost to a hero that wasn’t even fighting back. Hell, even Mina and Kaminari did better and they didn’t even do anything. Literally.”

Katsuki Bakugo. Score: 33/100. Teacher notes: powerful, but planning and teamwork are minimal. It must be noted he was not the one who instigated the conflict between himself and his partner, and as such he has scored this highly in the first place. While ruthless and dangerous, he may make little to no use of the resources given to him, and while tenacious, does not appear to have the capability to come up with a different plan on the spot should his current one fail him.

Silently, he kneels down, raising his hand again as he does so. For a moment, he remains still, one fist to the sky, before smashing it back down to the ground. “FUCK!”

Waving aside the small dust cloud that forms, he scowls across the training grounds as he rises, as if to dare anyone to challenge him. Except the training grounds are empty except for himself, and there’s no one to do anything to him. That only infuriates him all the more.

He grits his teeth before throwing his head back and roaring into the sky. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”

The moment he enters the room, he freezes. He doesn’t need to look up to feel that something’s wrong, but he does anyways. The hag and the old man are sitting side by side, both crossing their arms, with the old man leaning forward in his chair. The hag’s face is crinkled in a scowl as always, which doesn’t really surprise him. No, what really scares him is how the old man’s normally bashful smile is gone, replaced by a cold glare and pursed lips.

“What?” The moment the words come out of his mouth, he realizes that his usual routine of scream and shout was the wrong choice, as the hag’s scowl deepens and the old man breathes in before exhaling sharply. The two look at each other, before turning back to him.

“Katsuki, why are we paying for you to go to UA?” There’s a razor-sharp edge in the hag’s voice that Katsuki hasn’t heard in ten years, and instinctively he takes a step backwards, out the doorway. “Why do you want to be a hero?”

“...” He doesn’t bother opening his mouth. Nothing comes to mind anyways. Instead, he lets a small snarl climb into and shape his lips. For a second, he just stands there, glaring.

“What are you making that face for?” For the first time since he can remember, his father’s voice slashes through the air like a knife, and Katsuki lets his face fall flat with shock. Even the hag blinks and turns to look at the man with wide eyes. Masaru Bakugo leans back onto his chair and straightens his back, face creased with disgust, filled with so much vitriol that Katsuki would never be able to match with his sixteen years of fury. “You have a mouth for a reason. Use it.”

“... The fuck is this about?”

He realizes his mistake almost instantly as Masaru’s fists tighten and his face somehow twists itself further. He opens his mouth as if to say something, before closing his mouth and exhaling again.

Mitsuki shakes her head, glancing away from her husband and turning back to her son, thinly veiled wrath rampaging across her face again. “UA sent us a report about your behavior, on top of your semester report card.”

Katsuki turns his gaze to the floor and presses his lips together. What is he supposed to say to that? There’s really just nothing for him to say.

A bang, and the smell of smoke. He blinks, glances at his hands, wondering for a split second if his Quirk went off accidentally somehow, even though it hasn’t done that in well over a decade. But no, his hands are fine.

He raises his head slowly, to find both Mitsuki and Masaru staring at the latter’s hands. The floor around Masaru’s chair is scorched, and even the source of the explosion himself seems surprised by the blast.

Oh right. The old man can make explosions, just not on purpose.

Masaru’s eyes narrow again as he raises his head, glaring at Katsuki. “Your mother and I thought you grew out of bullying others when we stopped hearing about it from the teachers, in what, third grade? We really thought it was just a phase you passed over.”

“I talked with Inko today, and she said Izuku came home with burns. Often.” Mitsuki’s face twists again, and she rises to her feet this time, one fist held up and clenched tightly.

“Are you really trying to be a hero, Katsuki, or are you just trying to boost your ego?” Masaru stays in his chair, lip curled, eyes wide and face crinkled with disgust. “Tell me the truth.”

Silence.

“I want to be a hero.” His voice wavers as he speaks, and Katsuki blinks a bit in surprise. His vision begins to blur slightly, but he grits his teeth.

For a long second, silence hovers over the room before Mitsuki puffs out a breath. “The next time we hear anything like that, you’re out.”

Distantly, Katsuki realizes his knees have folded and he’s on the ground, staring at the concrete below him. He grits his teeth and raises his fist, before slamming it down on the ground. “FUCK! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!”

His hand comes back bloody and torn, and he stares at it for a long second before slamming it back down.

I’m going to win this damn Sports Festival and these shitty extras won’t stand a chance. I’m going to show the old man and the hag why I’m a hero. I’m going to…

I’m going to…

I…

When he leans back on his haunches and stares at the sky, he can’t help but notice that it seems a bit blurrier than usual.

“Hey, Iida.”

“Oh, Uraraka. What is it?”

“Have you seen Deku?” Ochako glances around as if looking at that very moment, before turning back to Iida and shrugging. “I wanted to talk to him but he disappeared.”

“I can’t say I have.” The bespectacled boy crosses his arms and frowns, before sighing and hanging his head slightly. “Truth to be told, I was looking for Shinso as well, because he seemed to be fairly knowledgeable on hand-to-hand combat, but he seems to have vanished as well.”

“That’s odd.” Ochako frowns as well, before glancing to the side and waving. “Mina!”

“Haaaaaaaalloooooo there!” The pink girl slides over to the two of them with a flourish, throwing her arms to the side and bending over slightly as if to curtsy. Behind her, Jirou waves and grins slightly in a slightly blander entrance. “Whaddaya want?”

“Have you seen Deku or Shinso? We were looking for them.”

“Uhhh…” Mina frowns, before glancing at Jirou. “I don’t think I saw Midoriya, but I think Shinso said he was leaving early? Something about getting a stomachache. He wasn’t looking so hot either.”

“Same thing with Midoriya. He was just kinda lying down at his desk the entire time then left.” Jirou frowned. “Maybe we should check up on him? He looked like he was going to puke.”

“Well, do any of you have a method to contact them?” Iida lowers his head, staring at the floor, waiting for an answer as the three girls glance at each other.

“... Did you guys add Shinso to the group chat?”

“I’m pretty sure we did.” Mina whips out her phone and taps at it a few times, before looking up. “Want me to ask?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Alright.”

“Call me if you’re not feeling well, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Mom.” Izuku manages to fake a smile convincing enough to persuade Inko Midoriya to glance at him worriedly one more time before shutting the door behind her. Once his mother disappears from sight, it vanishes off his face and he closes his eyes as he groans quietly.

He falls backwards and collapses into his bed, turning over to face the wall as he does. Pulling his blanket over himself, he groans silently, letting his eyes half-close.

I need to do better. I need to do better. I need to do better.

For what, though?

He can almost feel the thought flashing through his mind as his eyes widen slightly, and a tremor runs through his entire body. If only he had the energy to do so, he would have sat up, but previous sleepless nights force him to stay down.

Really, for what? It’s pointless to try and be a hero when it’ll probably just kill me before I even graduate from UA. Those monsters that overrode Tokyo, and the Hero Hunter that defeated Stain… who knows what other monsters are out there? I can’t even land a single hit on a heavily wounded Miruko, who wouldn’t have been able to touch any of them even if she was healthy. What use am I?

Passing on All Might’s legacy? Why doesn’t he just give All For One to someone else? Does it even matter any more, with heroes and villains so strong All Might would be nothing more than an ant for them?

For a second, he just lies there, before bringing his head up off the bed and slamming it back down. It doesn’t actually do anything because the mattress absorbs the impact and One For All wasn’t activated, but he can almost feel his head clear up a little bit. No, no, no. I can’t think like that. I need to do better because I need to be better, because… because… because they need every hero they can get. I was the one chosen by All Might, not anyone else. I can’t let him down.

I can’t…

“Hey, are you going to watch the UA Sports Festival?”

“Yeah, of course. There’s nothing else to watch, and the news is so depressing. I’d rather watch that.”

“Alright! Want to have a viewing party at my house then?”

“Sure! They better put up a show!”

Chapter Text

Hey guys, it's me, the author with the most original pen name known to man. It's been a whole year and a half-ish since I uploaded the last chapter (14!) and after getting a ton of notifications about people commenting on this, I decided I might as well talk about this fic a little bit.

First, let me be completely honest. I don't see myself continuing this fic, at least not for the next year. My interest in My Hero Academia and One Punch Man have gone down a lot since I first published this fic. It's not that I hate either series or anything; I was just really, really, REALLY obsessed with OPM and I was never that into MHA. I'm just don't have the same level of interest I had for either of them back then. I kinda moved on to other manga over time for a variety of reasons (like realizing that not everyone in the community is a decent person – a large chunk of the OPM and MHA readers I'd interacted with turned out to be not so cool people, though I still talk with the cool ones a lot) as well as different interests. (have you guys ever checked out pro beatboxing? try searching up grand beatbox battle on youtube and clicking the first result you see) Not to mention, I'm now a college student figuring out my life as opposed to an idiot high schooler clacking away on his keyboard. With MHA probably ending soon, I don't see myself getting back into this particular combo and writing this fic again any time soon. That really sucks considering this is the first real work that I put time and effort into, but I think I'd rather leave it a good memory rather than try to drag it back up to get to a sloppy finish and end up completely ruining it for myself.

This fic is the first real writing project that I put online for the world to see, and put time and effort into it. Granted, when I was most into it I was a high school sophomore going crazy over the pandemic and I really do not like how I started the fic, not to mention I just don't like my 2021 self's style of writing. For example, if you comb through the fic and look for how many times I use the word 'said,' forget that thing elementary school teachers tell you 'said is dead,' 'said' was torched alive, buried, hit by an earthquake, washed out into the ocean and eaten by the fish. There are a bit too many descriptors that really just don't say anything and only butter up the word count; I remember feeling frustrated when I was rereading my fic to write a new chapter and realizing a lot less had happened than I had wanted it to. And I also think there were problems with characters being OOC, getting details/timelines wrong, etc.

I could go on and on about how it sucked, but like I said, this fic is a good memory for me. I've always had problems with consistency and motivation, and the fact that I managed to pump out fourteen chapters of a single work (over 200 pages on a google doc!) is absolutely insane to me. I don't think I've voluntarily put in as much time and effort into anything else, and I think for all its problems, it turned out as well as I could expect. This was a random passion project spawned entirely on a whim that I did not plan ahead for in the slightest, nor did I really expect anything to come out of. I've had a lot of things like this where I get a stroke of inspiration for a few days, set up the bare skeleton, then completely forget about it or rethink it and throw it away, and I wasn't expecting this to be any different.

But no, writing this was just fun. I liked trying to think up believable interactions between characters and trying to make a cohesive plot that wasn't an absolute shitstorm while accounting for the changes from the crossover. Ochako being Saitama's disciple is probably my favorite idea in this whole fic, which is something I don't think I've seen anyone else think of (granted, MHA x OPM crossover fanfics aren't the most popular thing ever) and something I feel pretty good about, especially considering how I felt Ochako was being wasted by the actual MHA story.

The biggest reason I can look back on this fic fondly, however, has got to be you readers. I was not expecting this to get the attention it did, nor did I expect the attention it received to be so good. The thing that kept me going to 14 chapters was the number of people who were cheering me on, and damn, what a nice feeling that was, to know that people appreciated this little fic I had planned on writing just for myself. People told me my story was great, that they really enjoyed this fic and wanted to see the next chapter, and it was an experience to wake up and find such an outpouring of support. I tried to read and respond to every comment but in the end there were just too many for me to get around to, which is the craziest thing to me. 45k hits? On something with as inconsistent an upload schedule as this? Love you guys and I can't thank you guys enough.

In the end though, I got burned out. I have about half an unpublished chapter in the tank, and I remember when I sat down to continue writing, I thought about all the plot holes and all the things that didn't make sense to me and I just kinda stopped. I was feeling burned out with OPM and MHA as well – especially with OPM and its at-the-time extremely inconsistent release schedule. Over the course of the almost three years since I started writing this fic, OPM has gone from my indisputable number one to something I'll read but not something I'm particularly excited for, and MHA has fallen off the radar entirely – for no reason at all really, which is a bit weird now that I think about it, but it is what it is.

This might not be the last you've seen from me – I've got other projects in the tank that I think I'll be a lot more dedicated to than this – I'm figuring out how to harness the sheer power of sunk cost fallacy. But Your Problems, My Inconvenience will always hold a special place in my heart, as probably the worst title I've ever come up with (I completely forgot what it meant and it's my least favorite part about the whole thing) but also something I put a lot of time, passion and effort into that showed me I have it in me to succeed if I just stick to it. Thank you everyone for sticking with me through fourteen chapters of this fic, and who knows? Maybe one day I'll get back into it and finally finish writing out what I had planned originally.

Merry Christmas everyone,
- veryoriginalusername