Chapter Text
You wanna be a hero so bad? I’ve got a time-saving idea for you. If you think you’ll have a Quirk in your next life… go take a swan dive off the roof!
Izuku stared at the ground from seventeen stories up, feeling just a little bit dizzy.
From so high in the air, the people walking by on the ground seemed… incredibly insignificant. So small, so fragile - in the next day, any number of the civilians walking by could be killed by villains, or crushed by falling rubble, or- or any number of things.
And Izuku couldn’t save them. Any of them.
He was Quirkless.
Useless.
Deku.
A nobody, as insignificant as the tiny people walking around down below - more so than them. They had a purpose, they had Quirks.
Izuku wasn’t cut out to be a hero.
All Might said so.
And if All Might believed it, then it must have been true. All Might wouldn’t lie. All Might was… All Might.
And if All Might didn’t believe he could do it…
Izuku shrugged his backpack off of his shoulders, letting it clatter uselessly to the ground. After a moment, he picked it back up and rooted through it for a moment, pulling out the charred, waterlogged notebook he’d only just started filling out.
With his notebook now in hand, Izuku dropped the backpack again and stepped onto the ledge.
Could he really do this?
A breeze tousled his hair, blowing a few strands into his eyes. The wind carried a distinct scent of… peppermint. Izuku glanced around, but the smell was gone in an instant. Perhaps he’d imagined it - a final stand by his instincts to save him from his fate.
But there was no time to spare for the strange, pepperminty wind. Izuku had a job to do.
He couldn’t be a hero.
All Might had said as much, before running off to go turn in that slime villain.
He couldn’t save people.
There was no reason to keep going if all he could do was stand by and watch as the world suffered around him.
Izuku took a deep breath.
Goodbye, Mom. I hope you won’t hurt for long.
Goodbye, Kacchan. I hope this doesn’t affect your chances of getting into Yuuei.
Goodbye…
Izuku blinked.
…That was it?
Those were the only people he had to say goodbye to?
His mother and Bakugou Katsuki, who probably wouldn't even miss him.
If he’d been unsure before, he was certain now. He really did have nothing to lose.
Izuku closed his eyes, tightening his grip on his notebook.
And he jumped.
When he blinked, he was on the ground again.
Standing straight up.
Completely fine.
...What?
Izuku patted his chest, then his arms, then his legs. All totally, one hundred percent intact. Not a scratch on him. His uniform was totally unscathed, and his notebook was still in his grip, still charred, still slightly damp.
He glanced up at the ledge he’d just taken a step off of. Still there. It seemed much higher up from where he stood on the ground. Perspective, perhaps, or maybe—?
A passerby knocked Izuku’s shoulder sharply as they brushed by, knocking him to the side and sending him stumbling.
“Don’t just stand in the middle of the sidewalk, kid!” The man who had just barrelled him over scolded, before hurrying away.
Izuku stared after him in disbelief, openly gawking at the hustle and bustle of the pavement ahead of him. There were five times as many people than there were a second ago - he’d made sure he wasn’t diving head first into a crowd. But now, the whole street was packed full of bustling citizens.
He turned his head, gaze catching on a storefront across the street. It was fairly plain and unassuming, just a simple coffee shop that seemed to be decently popular.
But Izuku had never seen it before.
He was sure - one hundred percent positive - that his favorite stationery store was there, right there, tucked between the fancy apartment complex and the antique shop.
Honda Coffee and Tea stared back at him almost mockingly.
“Are you lost?”
Izuku jolted out of his stupor, whirling around to see an older woman with salt and pepper hair looking at him kindly.
“A-Ah, no! I-I’ve just never seen that coffee shop b-before,” he cried out, waving his hands around.
The woman smiled at him, eyes crinkling. “Don’t be embarrassed! They just opened up a few weeks ago.”
A few weeks ago…
Izuku had definitely been in that stationery store no more than three days ago, buying his new notebook.
What is happening?!
“I-I’m sorry for worrying you!” Izuku practically shouted, ducking into a bow. “But I have t-to go home!”
Without a second glance, he was off down the street, dodging and weaving between the people crowding the sidewalk.
His home would be in the same place, wouldn’t it? It had to be - Izuku had no idea what he would do if he knocked on the door and no one answered.
No—no, he couldn’t even let himself consider it. Just- Just get home, and then he could start freaking out about whatever Quirk was used on him or what alternate universe he’d landed himself in. He couldn’t even begin to process the fact that he’d just actually jumped from the roof, his mind skipping past that as he desperately tried to understand what was happening to the world around him.
His apartment wasn’t far, luckily enough, but by the time he skidded around the last corner (familiar high rise apartment complexes blessedly in sight), he was already breathing hard. Izuku wasn’t exactly what you’d call an “athletic kid” in normal circumstances, and sprinting half a mile home in what he was growing increasingly more sure was an alternate universe wasn’t exactly his forte.
He hauled the heavy front door of his building open, and— the woman at the front desk was someone he’d never met. Izuku couldn’t say he was surprised, but he certainly wasn’t thrilled. This seemed to be the theme of this alternate universe - everything was the same, but just a little bit different. Just enough to feel wrong, like his skin was too tight for his body.
“Hey- Where are you going?”
Izuku froze in his tracks, one hand on the door to the staircase. He turned slowly, not quite wanting to meet the shrewd gaze of the woman he didn’t know at the front desk.
“H-Home,” Izuku stammered, tears welling in his eyes. He just wanted to go home.
“Yeah?” She replied skeptically, tilting her head. “And where exactly is ‘home’?”
Izuku bit his bottom lip, struggling to keep himself from bursting into tears. “306-C. M-Midoriya residence.”
The woman cocked a brow, leaning forward. “I can’t just let you up there, that’s a safety breach. Especially for the Midoriya residence.”
Izuku blinked. Why would his apartment be a special case? A Quirkless kid and a nurse - who would want to harm them ‘especially’?
The woman looked him up and down - and Izuku wasn’t sure what exactly she saw besides a middle schooler on the verge of tears clutching a burned notebook, but she seemed to take pity, dropping her head forward and sighing.
“If I buzz Midoriya-san, and I tell her your name, will that be enough for you? Will she recognize you?”
Izuku nodded, lip trembling. The woman responded in kind, swiveling around in her chair to press the button to buzz up to 306-C.
The line rang for a few seconds, and then suddenly, blissfully, the sound of his mother’s voice crackled back.
“Hello?”
Izuku nearly burst into tears right then and there. The woman at the front desk just cast a concerned glance back at him.
“Midoriya-san, I’ve got a kid in the lobby saying he lives with you. I told him I’d buzz you. Kid- what’s your name?”
“I-Izuku.”
Inko’s breath caught audibly on the other end of the line. “Izuku?”
The woman at the counter’s eyes widened perceptibly. “Midoriya Izuku?” She asked, entirely disbelieving. Izuku just nodded awkwardly. Had she already heard the gossip about the Quirkless kid in the building? The useless freak who talked to himself and wrote notes about people to get back at them some day?
“Izuku, darling, how old are you?” Inko’s voice sounded through the intercom, drawing the attention of both Izuku and the woman at the counter.
That was an… odd question. Did his own mother not remember how old he was?
“F-Fourteen,” Izuku replied nervously. What if that was somehow the wrong answer? What if he wasn’t supposed to be fourteen - why else would his mother ask how old he was?
“Oh, dear,” Inko said through the intercom. “Send him up, if you would.”
The woman nodded, eyeing him warily. She pulled her finger from the button, severing the connection and gesturing with her head, sending Izuku dashing away and up the stairs after a short bow.
Three flights up and Izuku was breathing hard once again, though he couldn’t quite parce out how much of that was the exercise and how much was the anxiety hammering away at his chest. It felt like his lungs weren’t quite taking in enough air - coupled with the fact that his skin still seemed too tight, and Izuku felt fit to burst. He was hovering on the verge of a panic attack, that much was obvious.
He knocked on the door a bit too loudly, making himself jump. It swung open almost immediately, revealing -
“Mom.”
Izuku all but fell forward, clutching at his mother tightly. He tucked his head into the crook between her neck and her shoulder, letting the sobs that he’d been holding back wrack through his body harshly.
She held him back just as firmly, fingers carding softly through his hair as she murmured jumbled reassurances into his ear.
She was the same. Blessedly the same, the same smell of detergent on her clothes, the same shampoo in her hair. Midoriya Inko was the same.
Twenty minutes ago, Izuku had been okay with never seeing her again. With leaving her alone.
The thought made him cry harder.
“Darling, it’ll all be alright. I’m here, and you’re here, and we’re going to be alright,” she whispered, making Izuku’s breath hitch.
“W-Why is everything s-so different?” Izuku hiccuped, his voice muffled. “The stationery store is g-gone, and the lady downstairs d-didn’t know me… What h-happened?”
Inko was quiet for a second, before she pulled back a little bit, enough to look Izuku in the eye. She sucked in a little gasp after a moment, gaze dropping down as she tugged on the collar of his uniform, inspecting a little smear of sludge left over from the villain attack.
“I-I can explain-”
“The sludge villain,” Inko interrupted, brows furrowing. “That- That’s so long ago…”
How did—?
His mother knew about the sludge villain. The one that had attacked him less than an hour ago, and was probably still being processed by the police.
How?!
And if she knew about the sludge villain…
Did she know about the roof?
“So long? It was… like, an hour ago…” Izuku replied, eyes wide.
Inko frowned, face becoming serious. “Izuku, I need you to listen to me. Just - don’t interrupt for a few minutes while I explain this.”
She paused and Izuku nodded, straightening up a bit more. Inko glanced down the hall - they were still standing rather awkwardly in the doorway - before she pulled him inside by the arm, closing the door behind him. Leading him over to the couch, which was thankfully exactly as he remembered it, she sat down across from him, eyes somber.
“Izuku, you’re seventeen years old.”
Izuku’s eyes widened, but Inko just plowed onwards.
“I-I know that sounds crazy, but you are. Well… obviously not you as you are right now, but - to me, you were attacked by the sludge villain three years ago. I’m forty-four, and you’re seventeen,” she repeated.
Izuku just stared at her. “I’m… fourteen. I- I just started the new school year, it’s my last year of middle school, I’m not- I’m not a third year in high school!”
Izuku didn't mention that half an hour ago, he’d been pretty confident in the notion that he was never going to make it to fifteen years old, let alone seventeen.
Inko sighed, wringing her hands. “You said something about a stationery store, right?”
Izuku nodded.
“Right - I remember. The place that sold your journals… Ah, Mount Lady accidentally crushed it about a year ago, and they moved across town to a building in the mall. You were so upset! And the woman down at the desk - she replaced Iki-san two years ago, after she got pregnant.”
Izuku looked at her, deeper than before. Her hair was longer than it had been just that morning, and the crinkling around her eyes was much more present. She looked… older. More worn out.
“What was it, then? A Quirk accident? To my- my future self?”
Inko sighed, looking a bit exasperated. “I wouldn’t put it past you. You’re always getting into trouble - fighting any villain you see. I’m just glad you have your license, now, so at least you won’t get into any legal trouble.”
Izuku’s heart swooped dramatically in his chest. “L-License?” He asked, voice embarrassingly high and pitchy. “Are you—A Hero License?”
Inko paused, then smiled warmly. “Izuku… You’re a hero.”
Of course Izuku cried.
How could he not? No less than fifteen minutes ago, he’d been stepping off of a building ledge because he couldn’t - he could never be a hero.
But… he was.
Somehow, three years in the future, he was a hero.
He was a hero.
“R-Really?” Izuku choked out, tears spilling freely down his face. “You‘re not—? I’m a hero?”
Inko’s eyes were watering too. “You did it, Izuku.”
Izuku could barely breathe, heaving gasps forcing their way out of his throat as he wheezed through his choked sobs, clutching at his uniform tightly. Inko came and sat beside him, holding him tightly as he bawled, her hand rubbing soothing circles on his back.
“Izuku, sweetheart, I need to make a few calls, is that alright? Can I leave you?” Inko murmured after a moment, and Izuku nodded.
He barely noticed her standing, only catching snippets of her conversation through the loud sounds of his tears combined with the buzzing in his head.
“...Quirk accident… Fourteen years old… danger…? League… stay with you…”
She was back at his side before he could question it, holding a steaming cup of tea out to him kindly. “Drink, darling. You need to get your energy back up.”
Izuku nodded dumbly, sipping mindlessly at the drink before him. He barely registered the flavor, focusing more on the warmth blooming in his chest as he steadily calmed his breathing.
“Izuku… I need to tell you something.”
His focus was sharp again in an instant, laser focused on Inko’s worried face.
“Ah! Don’t look at me like that - it’s not terrible, I promise,” she reassured. Izuku slumped his shoulders once more as she smiled calmly. “It’s just… You can’t stay with me. Here.”
“What? Why?”
Inko sighed, biting her lip. “There are… dangerous people. People who know you as a hero and… and want to take you out of the picture. If they find out that you’re here now, and you aren’t the hero they know you as… I can’t protect you if that happens, Izuku.”
Izuku frowned. The subtext was obvious. Villains want to kill you.
How lovely.
“Then where will I go?”
“Yuuei has dorms, now - they have since after Kamino Ward-” Inko started to explain, but Izuku let out an undignified shriek, effectively cutting her off.
“Y-Yuuei?! I-I can’t just go stay at Yuuei, Mom! How could I- Even if I am a hero, I couldn’t- Why would they…” he trailed off into unintelligible mumbles, pulling his bottom lip between his fingers anxiously.
Inko placed a hand gently on his shoulder, drawing him out of his head. “Izuku. Of course you can stay at Yuuei- you’re a student there.”
“W-Wh-What?!” Izuku shrieked, eyes wide.
Yuuei?
Izuku went to Yuuei?
Izuku was a hero at Yuuei?
“You’ll be much safer in a dorm full of hero students than you would be here with me,” Inko continued. “And the teachers on campus will be there for you, too.”
“I-I’m going to Yuuei? I go to Yuuei?” Izuku asked breathlessly, heart hammering in his chest.
Inko nodded, smiling. “You do, Izuku. All Might should be here in a few minutes to take you over to campus- Izuku? Izuku?”
Izuku had passed out.
—————
When Izuku came back into awareness, all he noticed was the seat belt digging into the side of his neck.
When he managed to crack an eye open, the first thing he did was peer out the window to see buildings whizzing by to his left, and a road sprawling out in front of him. He was in a car, then. His notebook was in his lap. Someone - probably his mom - had known the comfort that a familiar object would bring him. He wrapped a hand around the charred spine and felt a little bit of the tension in his shoulders release instantaneously.
A rattling cough made Izuku startle, glancing nervously over at the driver of the car he was in. A man, gaunt and pale, with stringy yellow hair, and -
This was…
This was the alternate form that All Might had shown him.
The injured side of him.
This was -
This was All Might.
All Might was driving the car.
Izuku shrieked, then promptly clamped a hand over his mouth and prayed for death to be swift.
All Might - All Might!!! - just glanced over at him and just chuckled. His suit was a terrible mustard color, clashing awfully with his hair.
“Ah, my boy... I remember when you were this young,” he said, his voice soft and fond in a way that Izuku couldn’t quite believe was directed towards him.
“All Might…” was all Izuku could say, voice muffled by his own hand.
“Inko said that today was the day you were attacked by the sludge villain, was it not?” All Might asked, returning his eyes to the road.
Izuku just nodded, humming shakily in affirmation.
“The day we met,” All Might remarked casually. “I remember it well. When in the day did you…? Er- flash forward, I suppose is a way of saying it.”
“Y-You left after- after we spoke on the rooftop,” Izuku said carefully.
All Might made a curious sound, and Izuku gulped. “That’s… odd. Can you describe the sensation of...travelling, so to speak?”
Izuku took a steadying breath, still trying not to freak out at the prospect of being in an enclosed space with his idol. “I just… blinked. And I was… on the sidewalk. And everything was different - the stationery store was gone.”
“It certainly sounds like it, but…” All Might trailed off, sending him an inquisitive glance. “And it wasn’t when the sludge villain was attacking you? It was when you were standing on the roof?”
Izuku glanced out the window. “It wasn’t when the sludge villain was attacking me,” he agreed, tightening his grip on his notebook.
He didn’t want to tell All Might that he hadn’t just been standing on that rooftop.
What if All Might felt guilty? It wasn’t his fault - he wasn’t to blame for Izuku being Quirkless. For being useless. He couldn’t force All Might to live with that guilt.
All Might cleared his throat, making Izuku jump. “I’m going to tell you a story, my boy.”
Izuku sat and listened carefully as All Might explained to him about a pair of brothers, a power like no other, a mastermind behind the scenes. He listened as All Might told him about One for All, about the past users, about his own power. He listened as All Might admitted what he saw in Izuku, why he gave him that special gift, why he let him stand in the ring on his own two feet.
Of course, Izuku cried again.
He sniffled into his hands as All Might smiled softly at him, recounting their days training at the beach.
“W-Why are you telling me this? I-If I go back, won’t I mess up the timeline?” Izuku asked when he had finished, his voice wobbly.
All Might’s smile turned into a frown, and he looked down at Izuku. “That’s the last thing I wanted to tell you about, my boy. One for All is a cyclical power. It’s greater than me and you. It’s nature demands that it knows it’s users. Sort of like a form of destiny, is how it was explained to me. As such, it has… a sort of a ‘catch clause’. An insurance policy, of sorts.”
“A… catch clause?” Izuku repeated. All Might nodded.
“One for All ensures that it’s users will live to see the day they gain that power. No one is quite sure how, but… if your life is being threatened before the power has been passed on to you, and there is no chance of escape... ” he trailed off.
Izuku sucked a gasp in through his teeth. “So, I travelled back in time to… save myself?”
All Might nodded. “Something like that. One for All determines when you’re ready to act quickly enough to get out of whatever situation you’ve been put in. For me, I was a victim of a hostage situation when I was eight years old on a trip to London. When I was sixteen, I travelled back to apprehend the perpetrator and make sure I came out of that situation alive in order to receive One for All.”
“But… the timeline…” Izuku repeated. He’d seen time travel movies before - what if knowing about the power made him not able to receive it? Or what if he ripped a hole in the space-time continuum?
“Fear not, my boy. You won’t remember any of the events of the future. Your future self will remember the past - that’s why I know what happened that day when I was eight. But you will be dropped back in time after the threat has passed with no record of the here and now.”
“How long? Will I be here, I mean,” Izuku asked.
All Might took a hand off of the steering wheel to make a vague gesture. “I’m not entirely sure. I was gone for two days, my predecessor was gone for four, the user before her went twice, but was back before the day was up both times, and the one before him never went at all. No less than a day, I’d guess, but no more than a week. However long One for All thinks you need to negate the threat.”
Izuku nodded, staring down at his hands and the notebook he clutched in them. He understood vaguely, even if it was hard to believe.
“Which is why I ask, my boy… Why are you here?”
Izuku swallowed tightly, stomach swooping.
“I don’t know,” he lied quietly.
All Might pursed his lips, obviously disbelieving, but he didn’t press any further. Izuku practically sagged in relief, looking out the window as he watched the Yuuei campus come into view.
“You… work here?” Izuku asked timidly.
“I do,” All Might replied readily, and Izuku let out a quiet sigh of relief at the change in subject. “I teach Practical Heroics, a hands-on hero class.”
“Hands-on…?”
All Might chuckled. “Rescue simulations, mock battles, physical conditioning… it’s hero P.E., to put it simply.”
Izuku sighed in wonder as they pulled up to a massive gate. He watched curiously as All Might flashed a card to a scanner in the wall before the massive doors opened and he pulled smoothly into the parking lot.
As they got out of the car and started walking, Izuku’s mind began to race.
So, he had a Quirk.
He had All Might’s Quirk.
But that didn’t mean he was any different, did it?
He had a Quirk, but…
Two hours ago, he’d jumped off of a roof.
Physically, he was stronger in this time, he knew that. But mentally - who’s to say he wasn’t still weak? Still useless? A mumbling freak, an obsessive creep, a shitty nerd, to put it bluntly.
Who’s to say he wasn’t still Deku?
They stopped walking in front of a massive building, U.A. Heights Alliance written in bolded letters across the front.
“The dorms?” Izuku hazarded a guess, and All Might nodded, then glanced down with an amused smile.
“My boy, your shoe is untied.”
Izuku let out a little meep of distress, kneeling down to redo the laces on his red high tops. He set his notebook on the ground beside him, wincing at just how burned it looked against the stark grey of the pavement.
While his head was down, he heard the door to the dorms swing open, rattling on its hinges with the force of being thrown.
“All Might! Is that Deku-kun?”
Oh.
Ah.
That was it, then.
He was still Deku - even at seventeen, even with a Hero License, even strong, he was still weak.
His back stiffened as his eyes welled with tears. God, crying so damn easily - no wonder he was still Deku to these people. He was a wimp, a coward. He was Deku.
You wanna be a hero so bad? I’ve got a time-saving idea for you. If you think you’ll have a Quirk in your next life… go take a swan dive off the roof!
He kept his head down, Bakugou’s words rattling around his head as he heard the distinct sound of quite a few pairs of feet clambering down the front stairs. They chattered easily, friendly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw All Might’s shiny shoes step in front of him, partially shielding him from view and a rush of gratitude shot through him, partially cutting through the wave of self loathing that had begun to crest.
“Not quite, young heroes! Unfortunately, there was a Quirk accident involving young Midoriya. I ask that you please treat him with the utmost respect and kindness during this time, as he may struggle to adjust.”
Izuku bit back the urge to groan.
All Might had basically just painted a massive target on his back with those words - here, look at the freak who has no idea what’s going on!
Izuku was fairly sure that wasn’t what he’d intended to do, but All Might didn’t know bullies like he did. A situation like this, the amount of terrible things they could get away with… locking him places, leaving him stranded, blaming it on the amnesia.. and Izuku would never remember to tell anyone. Not that he would have anyways - he knew better than anything that tattling just made things worse.
“What do you mean, All Might?” A throaty voice asked. Izuku couldn’t put a face to the sound, still mindlessly fiddling with his laces in an effort to keep out of sight.
“Is it like when Sero got cat ears and a tail? Oh, oh! Is he a bunny?” A peppy male voice asked.
All Might laughed. “No, no…” His voice got quieter, speaking now to Izuku alone. “My boy, could you stand, please?”
Izuku’s stomach was in knots as he slowly grabbed his notebook and pushed himself to stand on shaking legs, positioning himself a little more than halfway behind All Might’s gaunt form as he nervously looked out at what seemed to be a never ending sea of people.
“Deku-kun?” A girl near the front gasped dramatically, clasping a hand over her mouth. Her hair was brown and cropped short, and she had rosy pink cheeks. She was cute, and usually Izuku would start blushing and twisting into knots over a girl like that talking to him, but all he could hear was the damning sound of Deku ringing over and over in his head.
“Holy shit! How old are you right now?” A spiky haired redhead asked excitedly, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.
“You’re so… tiny, dude!” Remarked a lanky boy with mechanisms on his elbows that had Izuku aching for a pen to write in the notebook clutched tightly in his grasp, even as the insult was rattling though his head like a pinball.
“Are you even smaller?”
“Your hair is shorter again!”
“Midoriya-kun, what is going on?”
Izuku flinched back, shrinking even further behind All Might’s lanky form as the questions kept flowing, speaking over one another and clamoring loudly. It just kept getting louder and louder, yelling at him, yelling at each other, yelling, yelling, yelling-
“All right, all right, young heroes! That’s enough!” All Might interjected, his voice booming.
The clamoring died down in an instant, leaving only the rising tide of anxiety in Izuku’s chest.
“Let young Midoriya be - he doesn’t exactly know you all as he is right now,” All Might continued, stretching his arms out in a settle down gesture. “To answer your questions - young Midoriya is fourteen as he stands now, he does not have any memories of the past three years, and the seventeen year old you know will return anywhere from one day to a week from now.”
“He doesn’t… remember us?” A girl with… something hanging off of her ears asked, raising a calm hand. “Like, at all?”
The redhead interrupted her, raising his hand even higher. “What about Bakugou? If he’s fourteen, he’ll remember Bakugou, won’t he?”
Izuku’s blood ran cold.
Of course.
Of course Bakugou was here, this was Yuuei, this was Bakugou’s dream, and Bakugou was incredible so of course he got in, and Izuku was stupid to forget, stupid, stupid, stupid-
You wanna be a hero so bad? I’ve got a time-saving idea for you. If you think you’ll have a Quirk in your next life… go take a swan dive off the roof!
Izuku squeezed his eyes shut tightly, clenching his hands into fists so rigid that his muscles twinged in protest, but the sting of his nails biting into his palms helped ground him back into the present.
“Ah, I can’t believe I forgot! My boy, you remember young Bakugou, do you not?” All Might asked, but his voice was distant and echoey, like Izuku was underwater.
“I r-remember Kacchan,” he somehow managed to choke out, throat achingly tight.
I remember Kacchan burning me. I remember Kacchan telling me to kill myself. I remember Kacchan calling me useless, stupid, worthless Deku. Of course I remember. I’m not sure I could ever forget.
“He’s staying in the dorms, right?” A girl with a massive ponytail chimed in, looking worried. “If the League found out…” She trailed off, but the entire group seemed to somber in unison, sending concerned looks Izuku’s way.
“He will,” All Might replied. “I trust you all to keep him safe. Along with Aizawa and those on the staff, of course, but - young Midoriya is in your care.”
The class all chorused their assent while Izuku’s heart sank. All Might hadn’t included himself in that statement - and really, he should have known All Might wouldn’t stay. It was too good to be true.
All Might had already explained that Aizawa - who even was that? - and the other staff stayed in a different dorm than the students. He’d been fine (kind of) while he had All Might as a human shield, but alone with all nineteen of these teenagers…
Who knew what they might do to him?
“I’m sorry, young Midoriya, but I have to go catch Tsukauchi before he leaves the office. You’ll be fine with your classmates, I trust?” All Might asked quietly as the sea of students erupted back into chatter.
Izuku just nodded mutely, biting the inside of his cheek to keep the tears at bay.
All Might smiled widely. “Wonderful! I shall be off, then! Treat him well, everyone!” He called out as he started jogging back the way they had come.
Izuku squeezed his eyes shut for one breath, two, three. He turned around slowly, not quite wanting to face the full force of Class 3-A without a bodyguard to hide behind. They all seemed like they were holding a collective breath, some even hovering on their tip toes. Despite himself, Izuku found himself scanning their ranks for interesting Quirks - and it seemed as though they were plentiful.
The blond boy was literally sparking with excitement, there was someone with engines on his legs, a tail, pink skin and horns, six freaking arms, and - oh, wow.
Izuku felt himself flush almost instantaneously as his gaze landed on a boy standing at the edge of the crowd. Taller than most of his peers, his expression was cold and nearly disinterested as he stood with his arms folded across his chest. Red and white hair split straight down the middle that hung into his eyes and past his ears, not quite covering an intimidating scar over his left eye. His left eye, which was a different color than his right eye - though both were equally stunning.
And both were staring right back at Izuku.
With a squeaky sound of distress, Izuku threw his hands up to cover his face as he mumbled unintelligibly about princes and heterochromia and chimerism.
“He’s… exactly the same,” whispered a female voice, sounding vaguely awed. “Like, exactly the same.”
“I’m not sure what you expected, Ochako-chan,” another voice replied. “It’s just him but fourteen.”
“And he is right there,” a deep voice replied coldly, sounding vaguely displeased. “Stop talking about Izuku like he’s in another room. He can hear you, you know.”
Izuku.
Not Deku.
Had anyone ever called Izuku by his first name before? Anyone other than his mom?
He snuck a glance out from behind his hands to see the pretty boy from before having pushed through the crowd, now striding towards him purposefully.
Oh, my God, he’s even better looking up close, oh, my God, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygodohmygodohmygo-
“Izuku, would you like me to take me up to your dorm?” The man asked softly. Izuku peered up at him. He was at least head and shoulders taller than him, and the way he was looking at him so gently, so softly - Izuku felt his heart speed up until it was jackrabbiting in his chest.
But even so, he called him Izuku.
“Mmhmm!” Izuku managed to hum squeakily, his face still halfway hidden behind his hands. The man’s lips twitched up into a tiny smile and Izuku felt himself melt.
“You’re on the fourth floor of the dorms. I’ll show you there,” he said as he placed a large hand on Izuku’s shoulder and started to steer him through the crowd, which parted like the Red Sea. They all gawked at him as he walked by, eyes raking over his scrawny frame and messy hair, the bits of gunk from the slime villain and charred pieces decorating his uniform, the singed notebook he had clutched in his grasp. Izuku didn’t blame them - he probably looked a mess.
But that didn’t mean it made his stomach twist with any less dread at the shrewd gazes of twenty odd third year hero course students.
“Is that number thirteen?”
Izuku flinched hard when that low, syrupy voice sounded practically inside of his own head. The man had the decency to look sheepish when Izuku turned to him, tucking a long strand of white hair behind his ear.
“That notebook. The burned one is number thirteen, right?” He repeated, gesturing to the journal Izuku was clasping onto like a lifeline.
“H-How do you know that?” Izuku stammered, nearly falling flat onto his face when they reached the staircase and he was still staring at the man next to him.
“That’s the one I’m in,” he replied easily, a hand coming to rest on Izuku’s lower back to keep him steady. Izuku felt his stomach jump up to his throat as his pulse became impossibly faster. “Besides, it’s pretty distinct, wouldn’t you say?”
Izuku held the notebook out at arm’s length in front of him, taking in the waterlogged smear of the ink on the cover, the charred edges, the crumbling corner where it had been burned too badly to stay intact. “I-I guess.”
The man just hummed his assent, pulling the door open for the both of them to step inside. Izuku sucked in a gasp, eyes darting from place to place in an attempt to take everything in.
“Yuuei Heights Alliance, Class 3-A dorms,” the man announced calmly. “Where we live.”
“Wow…” Izuku murmured, eyes wide. “It’s so… spacious.”
The man chuckled. “Mm. The first year dorms weren’t as nice, but they get better the older you get. Come on, we’re this way,” he directed, guiding Izuku past a common room area with a tv, a kitchenette, and a massive hall with floor to ceiling windows overlooking a sprawling field of gardens.
“You were on the second floor in our first year,” the man said as he directed Izuku to a set of stairs. “I think you liked being closer to the main floor. But you also had to share a wall with Mineta… You were on the first floor our second year. That was your favorite room. We spent way more time in your dorm than mine second year - I’ve gone between the fourth and the fifth floors every year.”
Izuku looked up at him, eyes wide. “Do we… spend a lot of time in each other’s rooms?” He asked, before immediately clasping his hands over his mouth and flushing bright pink. “You- You don’t have to answer that! It’s private and I’m just assuming things! I don’t even know your name, oh gosh, and I-I mean, why would
you
want to spend time with
me,
I shouldn’t have insinuated that, I’m so sorry, that was a mistake-”
“Izuku.”
The man’s brows were furrowed, his eyes dark with concern. “I know you’re… nervous. But it’s alright. My name is Shouto, and we spend a lot of time together. I enjoy it and, in my opinion, you seem to have a good time as well. We mostly study and watch movies, if that’s what’s worrying you.”
Izuku swallowed hard, his throat tight. This man - Shouto, he said - willingly spent time with him? Watched movies with him? Studied with him? With stupid, useless Deku? It was unbelievable, it was amazing, it was-
It was probably too good to be true.
Izuku narrowed his eyes, searching Shouto’s face for some sign of teasing, of hidden laughter that would only spill out once Izuku had gotten comfortable - once he’d been sufficiently tricked.
“Are we friends?” Izuku asked quietly after a moment.
“We’re…” Shouto hesitated. “Yes, we’re friends.”
Shouto had hesitated.
He was lying.
Izuku bit his lip and turned away, starting up the stairs without waiting to see if Shouto was following him. Of course Shouto was lying. Of course he didn’t actually want to spend time with Izuku - stupid, useless, Quirkless Deku. It was a cruel joke, sure, to try and get him to believe that they were friends, then laugh when they’d sufficiently tricked him - but Izuku had faced worse. He’d survived worse. Shouto wasn’t hurting him physically, or leaving him spider lilies on his desk.
Izuku had dealt with this before. He could do it again.
“Izuku!” Shouto called after him, but Izuku just climbed faster, not risking a glance back as he started to run. “Where are you going? Izuku- what happened?!”
Liar, liar, liar.
Shouto was a liar and Izuku should have expected it but it still hurt, it still ached, and even after all these years of suffering though it, Izuku was sick and tired of being beaten down to the ground over and over again.
“Izuku, please, listen to me!” Shouto begged, and he was right at Izuku’s shoulder, but he wasn’t grabbing onto him yet. Of course he’d caught up - Izuku was a scrawny fourteen year old, and Shouto was less than a year away from being a Pro Hero.
Izuku skidded to a stop, tensed and waiting for the iron grip on his shoulder, the aching squeeze on his upper arm, the burning grasp on his wrist. Phantom explosions sounded in his ears.
But nothing came.
“Izuku…” Shouto looked pained, but he kept his hands by his sides - though his fingers twitched like they wanted to reach out and grab Izuku. “Why did you run?”
Izuku bit his lip hard enough to taste copper. The backs of his eyes stung, promising what was sure to be embarrassing crocodile tears if he didn’t get out of there fast.
He sniffed, drawing himself up to his full height of a shameful five foot four. “I know I'm not in a position to fight back, and you’ll probably just laugh at me for trying to stand up to you, but— but tricking people into thinking you’re friends when you aren’t is— it’s cruel. I’d r-rather you just p-pretend I don't exist. It s-shouldn’t be that h-hard,” Izuku said as firmly as he could before spinning on his heel once again and marching down the hall.
The fourth floor, Shouto had said. He wasn’t sure he could trust that, but it was the only lead he had.
No one followed him as he made his way up the last stairwell. Izuku should have felt relieved - Shouto was probably taking his advice, ignoring him, pretending he wasn’t even there - but Izuku couldn’t help but feel inexplicably disappointed. The space on the small of his back where Shouto’s hand had rested felt cold.
Luck seemed to be on his side when the first door he tried on the fourth floor swung open with ease, revealing a room that had to be Future-Izuku’s.
All Might posters lined the walls, figurines lined the shelves - even his favorite bedspread was neatly tucked into the bed frame. It felt familiar, despite Izuku never having stepped foot in the room before.
He was about to collapse into bed when a flash of red in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Izuku swallowed thickly, leaning over to get a better look at the pictures that had been carefully pinned to the wall above his night stand.
A picture of Izuku looking much the same as he did then, with one arm slung around the girl with the pink cheeks and the other wrapped around the waist of the guy with the engines. All of them were grinning widely, standing in front of a ferris wheel.
Izuku looked… happy. It didn’t even seem to be that far in the future - aside from a couple of scars, he looked roughly the same.
Aside from the genuine glint in his eye and the carefree way he embraced his… friends. Friends.
Izuku shook his head, blinking back the stinging in the back of his eyes.
The next picture was of a boy with purple hair, hand outstretched as he crouched in front of a black cat. The lighting was poor, like the photo had been taken in the dark. The boy in the photo was smiling softly, presumably at the feline nose nuzzling at his finger.
The third picture was of an older Izuku, smiling widely with his fingers pulling at the edge of his lips, standing next to a deflated All Might, who was doing the same. Izuku’s hair was longer, half of it tied up in a hairstyle like his mother’s, and a prominent scar crossed the bridge of his nose. He looked… strong.
And happy.
The last picture made Izuku’s breath catch in his chest. It was him, smiling, looking giddier than he had in any of the other pictures. Behind him, with his arms around Izuku’s waist and his chin resting on Izuku’s shoulder, was Shouto. His lips were pulled up into a soft smile, and instead of looking at the camera, he was looking sideways.
He was looking at Izuku like Izuku was the only person in the world.
The only reason Izuku realized he was crying was because a tear fell onto his hand. He sniffed, quickly wiping at his cheeks as he turned away from the photos.
Shouto hadn’t been lying.
Shouto hadn’t been cruel.
And Izuku…
Izuku had ruined everything.