Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“I always knew you were pathetic, Deku, but I never thought you’d become a Villain,” Kacchan sneers, grabbing Izuku’s coat by the collar. Izuku’s long ears dip back. “Think you’re hot shit vanishing like that and showing up here? Sabotaging me? Who the hell did you go beg for that shitty Quirk of yours? Some mad scientist?”

Kacchan is unusually aggressive. Izuku’s never pissed him off this much by existing before. Then again, he hasn’t seen the other boy in about a year.

“I didn’t,” says Izuku. He forces his foot to stop tapping against the tiled ground. Kacchan isn’t nearly as intimidating as he used to be. Before Izuku disappeared. “I don’t remember what happened—”

“Bullshit!” Kacchan raises a sparking fist, snarl etched across his features. Suddenly, he loosens his grip, his raised arm dropping to his side. He lets out a ‘tch.’ “You aren’t worth it,” he says.

Izuku doubts that. It never stopped Kacchan before. It’s more likely he just remembered that they’re right outside of UA High School, and the teachers are probably watching the incoming applicants. Kacchan would never risk his chance at getting in to the best Hero school in Japan over Izuku.

Izuku smooths out his jacket, his ears losing their tension. His eyes track Kacchan intently as the boy walks off. Some of the other applicants whisper as Kacchan passes. Izuku’s new ears pick out pieces of what they say. They’re gossiping about some Villain attack. Izuku swears he hears someone say ‘Sludge Villain,’ but that’s ridiculous. All Might caught that Villain after he attacked me. And no one was around, so I doubt it made the news. Was there another Villain with a similar Quirk?

“Are you okay?” a cheerful voice chimes. Izuku’s ear instantly snaps to the new noise, and the voice giggles. He turns to see a cheerful brunette girl wearing a simple scarf and jacket.

Izuku opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. He eventually just nods.

“This sure is nerve-wracking!” the girl says. “And that guy… what a jerk!” Izuku can’t really disagree there. “Oh, you’re kinda like Miruko, huh?” She gestures to Izuku’s ears and tail.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Izuku manages, rubbing the back of his head with his clawed hand. “But she doesn’t have the, uh, the legs.” He pulls up on his pant leg a little to show how his fur goes past his feet and up his ankle and beyond.

“Huh,” she says, eyes flicking between Izuku’s furry ankle and the bare skin on his hands. “Just the legs?”

“For, uh, the most part,” Izuku says. “I still have the, uh, claws.” He holds up his hand so she can see the claw-like nails on his fingertips.

“Oh, this is, uh, this might be rude to ask, but uh… can I… pet you?” asks the girl sheepishly. Izuku blinks a few times as he processes this entire interaction.

“Ah,” he says intelligently, “My hair isn’t the same as the fur…” Izuku doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to do in this situation. He’s only had fur for the last few months. Is she being rude? Is he supposed to say no? But she seems polite. He leans a little closer for her to feel. She hums as she runs a hand through his hair. Izuku feels a small jolt as her fingers brush against the base of his ears.

“Oh, yeah, your fur is softer,” she says in wonder. Suddenly, she jerks her hand back. “Oh, I’m so sorry! That was probably really forward of me!” The girl blushes fiercely. Izuku waves a hand in front of his face.

“To, uh, tell you the truth,” he says, trying and failing to hide a blush of his own, “This is kind of a recent development. I don’t really mind you, ah, petting.” It actually felt kinda nice…

“Oh, your Quirk evolved?” she says, tilting her head.

“Something like that,” says Izuku.

“Well, we should probably get going,” the girl says. “Don’t want to be late!” She jogs off, waving. “Good luck to us both!”

Izuku smiles softly. It’s been a long time since he interacted with someone his own age and actually enjoyed talking with them.

Then again, it’s been almost a year since he interacted with someone his age at all.

The written exam is not as hard as Izuku expects. He’s nervous throughout, of course. Kacchan is right there, and he’s in UA, a school for Heroes. Given his own circumstances, there’s plenty to stress over. But the last five months of homeschool did a better job preparing him than he thought. Maybe I learn better when I’m not afraid of my classmates? That seems probable.

Izuku turns his packet in just a little before Kacchan. He’s not a mind reader, but he can sense the raw animosity coming from the other boy. Izuku swallows thickly. But he can’t afford time worrying about Kacchan. The practical is about to start, and he needs to focus on that now.

Of course, because Izuku was born under a cursed star, he’s assigned to the seat next to Kacchan for the practical exam introduction. The blonde glares daggers at him. Izuku can hear Kacchan’s teeth grinding. He wonders if it’s his enhanced hearing or if that’s just how loud Kacchan is. Izuku sits down, mindful of the short tail at the base of his spine.

“Welcome to the show, everybody!” yells out Voice Hero Present Mic! Izuku can’t help the smile at seeing the man. He listens to his radio show every week! He did even before… well. Before. It’s always been a nice form of escapism for Izuku. All that’s changed is what he’s escaping from.

No, I can’t think that way. This is me, now, and I’ve got to make the most of it! Izuku takes a deep breath and focuses on the Hero’s instructions. The exam is fairly straightforward. There are a horde of fake Villains. Defeating them gives you points based on how strong each one is.

There’s a brief interruption by some stocky boy. He has some preconceived ideas about how UA works based on its reputation. Izuku chews on his lip. The boy is… intense. And he only interrupts the introduction to ask about information Present Mic hasn’t gotten to yet.

But Present Mic does explain. The last kind of fake Villain isn’t worth any points. It’s a stage hazard.

“There’s only one at each site! It’s a gimmick that rampages in close quarters!”

Well that’s certainly ominous. But there’s nothing Izuku can do about it except avoid it when it comes up.

It seems Izuku does have some luck. Applicants from the same middle school are separated. They don’t want to risk friends collaborating. And while Izuku was pulled out of Aldera a while back, the fact that he was there before is still on his record. I’d have thought they would encourage teamwork, but I guess they want to know how we can do individually. What matters to Izuku is that he and Kacchan are in different testing sites. Present Mic says that examinees aren’t allowed to attack each other, but Izuku’s not sure that would stop Kacchan.

After everyone has a chance to change into something athletic, they’re transported to their exam sites by bus. UA only has a handful of exam sites. Seven, if Izuku counts correctly. And there are thousands of applicants. Maybe tens of thousands. So there are a lot of people in Izuku’s group.

He scans over the crowd while he waits for the exam to start. Everyone is tense, but many of them are confident. Postures loose, smiles. Some people are stretching or otherwise prepping themselves.

Izuku looks out at the testing site. Ground Beta Site B. It’s a massive fake city. Blocks of multi-level offices and apartments stretch out before him. He grimaces to himself, sparing a glance at his fur-covered legs. He taps one of his elongated feet against the street the bus came in on. It seems fine. The coarse fur on his sole isn’t objecting. Izuku hasn’t yet hurt himself walking barefoot on the new rabbit legs, but he’s still concerned about it. But it looks like he has nothing to worry about. Maybe I should find shoes for people with mutation Quirks, like how I get my pants. I know that I don’t technically qualify, but—

Izuku’s ears twitch. He hears someone muttering to herself. He knows the voice. It’s the girl from the entrance! He looks over to her. She’s trying some kind of breathing exercise. She must still be nervous. He takes a few steps towards her when a hand clamps around his shoulder.

Izuku shuts down.

His eyes lose their focus. His heart roars in his ears. All of his instincts scream ‘danger!’ at him. His fur bristles under his track suit. Izuku forces himself to keep his breathing even.

“That girl seems to be meditating. Why are you here? To distract oth—”

“Let go.”

Izuku’s voice is quiet, but full of ice-cold fire. The other boy—it’s the same one who complained about the robots—gapes under the fierceness of Izuku’s gaze. Izuku slowly reaches up and gently grabs the boy’s wrist, pulling it off his shoulder. The moment he lets go, Izuku relaxes.

“My apologies,” the boy says, “I didn’t intend to make you so—"

“And… start!” Present Mic hollers. Izuku flinches, his ears ringing. He pulls them down to press against his head. “What are you all waiting for? The exam has started! The die is cast! Run! Run!” Present Mic cackles from the top of his observation tower.

The crowd of examinees recovers from their shock as one, barreling down the road into the fake city.

Izuku turns and sprints through the scrambling crowd, weaving his way around people. Each step kicks off against the ground. Izuku moves faster, faster! Ahead of him, a robot drifts around a corner, aiming some kind of weapon at him. Izuku springs up off the ground and brings his heel down against the robot, muscles coiled like a spring.

He tears through the metal like a hot knife. Izuku hops back and takes off again, spinning a kick into another robot. That one shears in half. They must be made to be wrecked. Even with the added muscles, I’m not that strong.

Izuku leaps up, bouncing off the walls, and rockets down the street like a shot, decimating every robot in his way. It’s actually kind of fun, a lot like a video game. But he can’t help the niggling doubt in the back of his head. I’d never have been able to do this before. He ignores it in favor of throwing a scrapped robot’s weapon like a spear through another fake Villain.

The sounds of battle echo out throughout the testing site. Izuku’s ears twitch at distant noises. It feels like he knows everything that happens around him. The other examines aren’t so lucky. He keeps having to pull them out of the line of fire. Or call out warnings when they’re about to accidentally hit another examinee.

Izuku flicks his eyes around, ears drinking in all noise. Where’s the nearest robot?

‘284 meters.’ Izuku blinks. There’s a pulling in his head, a direction. And it’s moving. And he knows an exact distance. His new instincts must be better than he thought. He’ll worry about it later. Now, Izuku has robots to smash. He runs up the side of a building, leading from foothold to foothold. From the roof, he jumps up, plummeting down on the hapless robot. He crushes it like a bug.

“I think that’s… 34? 34.” He mutters to himself. By his count, the exam is only half over. Everyone else is calling out much lower scores. Mostly in the upper teens, lower twenties. From the sounds, Izuku can guess why. His speed and agility let him move much more freely than the other examinees. The end result is that they’re all competing against each other, while Izuku can simply take down a whole group of robots without worrying about someone else ‘kill-stealing.’

Not only that, but he doesn’t feel tired at all. He knows he’s stronger now and his endurance is better, but he’s been fighting for five minutes straight and he wouldn’t be able to tell. Another thing to think about when he’s not on the clock. Izuku pounces on the next robot, his clawed fingers ripping straight through its metal shell.

“Interesting crop this year,” Aizawa Shouta says, eyes flicking from screen to screen. The observation room keeps an eye on the entirety of Ground Beta. Everything every examinee does in each site is carefully monitored and recorded. It would be impossible to grade them otherwise.

“Yeah, they’re much better than last year’s batch,” says Kan.

“Bunch of ‘em are going ham out there,” Snipe chimes in, adjusting his hat.

“Have any of them caught your eye, All Might?” asks Nedzu, principal of UA, signer of Shouta’s paychecks, and pain in his neck. Their newest faculty member leans forward, his emaciated form a stark contrast from his bulkier appearance in public.

“Please, call me Yagi while I’m like this,” he says. “Get in the habit now. And a few seem to be doing well. That boy with the sentient Quirk, the one with the birdlike appearance? Their teamwork is excellent. The girl with the acid is a little too enthusiastic. I’m guessing she’s used to holding back to avoid hurting people. The girl with the gravity Quirk is doing alright, but she could probably be doing better. That boy with the copy Quirk has a good head on his shoulders. His on-the-fly tactical skill is excellent. That girl shrinking the robots and using them against each other has a clever idea, but she doesn’t seem to have a ‘Plan B’ if it fails.”

“Wasn’t expecting such analysis from you,” Shouta admits. All Might—Yagi—laughs.

“Did you think I got to be Number One for so long by punching things really hard and calling it a day?” Shouta doesn’t respond. By the sounds of Nedzu’s cackling, he doesn’t have to.

“Little Iida is doing pretty well,” Nemuri says.

“Not a surprise. He’s a legacy, after all,” says Kan.

“Bad luck he ended up in the same site as the rabbit kid,” says Shouta. “In different sites they’d both have much higher Villain scores.”

“Funny you mention him,” Nedzu says in a tone that makes Shouta regret getting out of bed this morning. “Midoriya Izuku is a rather special case.” The Rat swipes his paw around on his tablet until Midoriya’s file appears on the side monitor they use specifically for checking student files without blocking their view of the exam. Shouta scans over the file quickly, his brain freezing at a specific line.

“Quirkless?” Hizashi sputters, the first to recover from his shock. “That’s impossible! I can see his rabbit legs from here! He has a tail for God’s sake!”

“It’s true,” says Yagi. “Midoriya Izuku is Quirkless.”

“So what’re we looking at then?” Shouta says grimly.

“Around a year ago, Midoriya Izuku vanished without a trace,” Nedzu unhelpfully explains. “No one could find hide nor hair of him. The only lead was his backpack, left on the roof of a building.” Nedzu chuckles dryly. “Hardly someplace I would call ‘on his way home.’”

“As it happens,” Yagi continues, “I was the reason Young Midoriya found himself up there that day. He was attacked by a Villain that I apprehended, and I ended up carrying him to that roof by mistake. But I also happened to autograph his notebook for him. As such, the police contacted me as the last person to see Midoriya before he disappeared.” Yagi shakes his head with a sigh. “But even with my aid and all the resources I could muster, we had nothing.”

“You don’t seem that surprised to see him taking the exam,” Maijima notes.

“We’re not!” Nedzu replies cheerfully. “Five months after he disappeared, Midoriya washed up in Okinawa. Literally. But…”

“But he was different,” Hizashi concludes. “He had those rabbit features.”

“Precisely,” Yagi says.

“So some varmint with a transformation Quirk snatched him up off the street, made him part jackrabbit, then ditched him in the ocean?” Snipe says. Shouta can’t see his incredulous expression, but he can hear it.

“We don’t know,” Nedzu says.

Silence overtakes the room. The staff stare at the principal, minds racing. There is absolutely nothing reassuring in that statement. Nedzu prides himself on his intelligence. To say he doesn’t know what happened…

“What do ya mean?” Snipe says, straightening in his chair. “How do you not know?”

“As I said, Midoriya washed up in Okinawa. We never found the persons responsible.” Nedzu takes a long sip from his tea. “Furthermore, the boy doesn’t remember anything from while he was missing. We’ve confirmed this via Quirks. The only one who knows what happened to Midoriya is the one who did it.”

“And we don’t even have a suspect,” Yagi concludes.

“You’d never tell by looking,” says Nemuri. “He looks like a natural down there. To think, he’s only had five months to learn how to walk, let alone fight…”

“We won’t be telling Midoriya this, of course, but his application today is a formality. I fully intend to enroll him regardless of his performance,” says Nedzu, taking a sip of tea. Shouta doesn’t know where it came from.

“That’s illogical,” says Shouta. “Even if he’s been through something like that, he needs to earn his place here.”

“You’re observing him,” Hizashi breathes. Nedzu smiles.

“I suspect Midoriya already knows that much,” Yagi says. “After all, he is already aware of the risk he poses.”

“Risk?” echoes Kan.

“We still have no idea what happened to his body,” Nedzu supplies. “What makes you think we know what happened to his mind?”

“You think he’s a sleeper agent?” Shouta says.

“It is a possibility,” Yagi admits. “One he himself has admitted not long after he resurfaced.”

“But!” says Nedzu, “Why should we punish a young man for reasons beyond his control? According to the investigation, he has wanted to be a Hero his entire life. If he’s not a sleeper agent, we help a heroic boy achieve his dreams. If he is… well, keep your friends close…”

“Besides,” says Yagi, “UA is one of the most secure places in Japan. Even if he has been brainwashed, what better place to keep an eye on him?” Nedzu rubs his paws together and cackles.

“But enough doom and gloom! It’s time for the real test to begin!”

There isn’t much time left in the exam. Maybe two minutes? Izuku lost his count of time in the middle of a big heap of robots.

His score is much better now. High 50s? Low 60s? something like that.

The robots are thinning out. Izuku guesses they stop sending more robots to each site after a certain point. With no reinforcements, there just aren’t as many robots around anymore. Despite his best efforts, Izuku is forced to compete with the other examinees.

Izuku stumbles mid-step as the ground shakes violently. An earthquake? Now?

He’s not the only one caught off guard. Everyone feels the rumbling and stops, looking around. Izuku’s ears twitch, picking up something. Something big. But where?

‘146 meters.’

Izuku freezes. The pulling is back. Almost straight behind him. And that distance is rapidly shrinking. He whirls just in time to see a giant metal hand clamp down on a building. The building crumples like tissue paper. His enhanced hearing picks up on a dozen smaller sounds. Metal screams against metal, gears whir. Air pumps through vents. The song of a machine.

A colossus of steel peers around the buildings. The robot has to be four stories tall, at least. Two massive treads support the metal behemoth. The long face-like extrusion from the front of the robot seems to mock Izuku. Is that the Zero Point robot? It’s huge! Izuku’s ears flatten against the back of his head. He takes an unsteady step back.

Where the hell did it come from? Nothing that big could’ve hidden for so long!

The Zero Pointer brings down its fist. A thunderous boom rattles the air as the machine coats half a city block in a dirt cloud. Smoke and dust fill the air. Rubble and debris rains down on the examinees.

Everyone panics.

The other kids take off running. Fleeing as fast as they can. Izuku scrambles to follow, his rabbit legs the only thing maintaining his balance. Izuku quickly outpaces the other retreating examinees. It’s not worth any points. Leave it, go find some more robots. The exam has to be over soon—

Izuku’s ears twitch at a distant, quiet sound from behind him. It’s a voice, an exclamation.

“Oww…” says the voice. A very familiar voice. Unbidden, the face of the nice brunette girl he met at the entrance appears in Izuku’s mind. He stops in the middle of the road, the pack of stampeding examinees weaving around him.

Izuku doesn’t think.

He turns back to the girl and the robot and runs.

Time itself slows to a crawl. Each step feels like it takes agonizing minutes.

His fur-covered foot slaps against the asphalt. Every sound seems to fade away, reverberating like the echo from a deep well.

The Zero Pointer is almost right on top of the girl. The treads are only meters away. She’ll be crushed in a few short moments. She has her arm against the ground as she tries to drag herself forward, but Izuku can tell that it’s no use. Rocks have her feet pinned. The girl’s face is not one of confidence. Her vision is week, her mouth contorted back in a sullen glower. There are tears at the edge of her eyes. Each breath is a huff.

What can I do? How do I save her? Another step closer. He has to get her clear. Can he pull off the rubble in time? With his strength, he can easily clear those rocks. But what if he hurts her more? And even if he clears the rocks, will he be fast enough to get them both out of the way? He’d have to move them both from a standing start. He’s fast. He’s confident in his speed. He’s not confident he can get her free and get them both out of the way in time. Besides, what if I make her injuries worse when I pull her out? And even if he does get them clear, they’d still be right next to a rampaging Zero Point robot. Izuku blanches as realization sets in. Oh God, I’m gonna have to take that thing down.

How?

Another step closer. He can’t just hit that thing head on. For several reasons. He’s stronger now. Much stronger. And with his legs, he can land some devastating kicks. But that mechanical abomination has got to be tougher than the other robots. There’s no way he can just hit it hard enough to total it in one shot. Even if he could, if he hits it at the base, he’ll either just push the damn thing back along its treads, or worse, topple it down on them like a cut tree. They’d be crushed. Wait… treads! That might just be it!

Izuku’s ears twitch forward. He needs to hear. He needs to hear past the Zero Pointer. Beyond the screaming gears and the chugging treads and grinding rubber. He listens. He hears. He hears no sound. A smile starts to creep up Izuku’s face. There isn’t anyone on the other side! Which means if he knocks it down, he won’t endanger anyone. He’ll knock it away from everyone behind him.

Another step forward.

Time speeds back up.

Izuku leaps.

He kicks off from the ground, leaving a spiderweb of cracks. Faster! Higher! He skips up between the walls of the office buildings, climbing up and up. Each step tears away at the wall under his feet. Each step moves him faster. The muscles in his leg bulge, shredding the ends of his pant sleeves. Wind hurtles past his ears, stinging his eyes. He narrows his vision. He can’t afford to fail.

As he reaches the edge of the building, Izuku jumps off. He rockets towards the top of the Zero Pointer. Izuku spins in midair, bringing his legs together. His feet crash against the robot’s boxy mock-face.

Fur meets metal.

Metal gives.

The steel sheet crumples in and dents. The robots skids backwards, making an awful screeching noise. And then a tread slips. The robot teeters. And falls.

With a monumentous crash, the Zero Point Robot drops to the ground, spraying dust everywhere. Izuku smiles. He did it.

And then he feels gravity take hold of him. Izuku suddenly realizes he never actually planned how he would land after defeating the Zero Pointer. Oh. Shit.

Izuku plummets, air whipping his hair, his fur, his ears. His tracksuit blusters.

For all that Izuku knows how to jump, he has no goddamn clue how to fall. The wind rushes past him, rubbing his skin raw. Izuku closes his eyes and braces for how much pain he’ll be in when he hits the ground.

And then something smacks into him.

Izuku’s momentum vanishes. He opens his eyes. He floats, maybe a meter above the ground. Above him, lying on the shattered chassis of a villain robot, the nice brunette girl puts her fingers together with a pained grimace.

It’s only thanks to his enhanced hearing that Izuku makes out her quiet “Release.”

Izuku plops to the ground unharmed. A millisecond later, the broken robot smacks into the ground next to him. The brunette girl leans off to the side and hurls.

Izuku is suddenly less fond of his sense of smell.

He pulls himself up to his feet.

“Hey, are you okay?” he says. She doesn’t respond. Izuku takes a few steps towards her. “Are you alright?” The girl groans weakly. She raises her head to look at him. Izuku smiles gently, and she manages to return a weak grin of her own.

“The exam is now over!” Present Mic yells out over all of Ground Beta. Izuku stumbles under the sound, his ears instinctively press against his skin to block out the noise. And then there is silence. Ever since the exam began, Izuku has been tuning out white noise. Quirks firing off, robots attacking, metal grinding. The sounds of battle. But now there is silence. Except for some mild conversation from the crowd down the street.

Even from here, Izuku can pick out parts of it.

“That guy—”

“—gimmick thing in one hit—”

“—speed was something else—”

“—that kid’s incredible.”

Izuku scoffs. They only care about how strong he is. None of them gave a single damn about the girl. Izuku hops up and sits beside her.

“Exam’s over?” she says hoarsely. Izuku nods. The girl lets out another low groan.

“Quirk backlash?” asks Izuku and she nods.

“Makes me nauseous. I really pushed myself, huh?” she looks contemplative for a moment. “How well did you do?”

“I think I did alright,” Izuku says. “I, uh, I lost count though.”

“I think I got… 28 points?” she says. That’s on the lower end of what Izuku heard during the exam. He hides a grimace.

“I hope you, uh, you make it in,” he says lamely. She gives a weak smile in return.

“I hope you get in. If they don’t let you in after you saved my life, I’ll… I’ll…”

Izuku’s ear twitches at the approach of someone new.

“Come up with threats later, dearie,” says the diminutive woman in the white coat. It takes a second for Izuku to place her.

“Oh, you’re Recovery Girl!” says Izuku. “You have one of the strongest healing Quirks in Japan!”

“Always happy to see a fan. Do you two need medical attention?”

“My ankle hurts real bad,” says the girl. Izuku helps her shift around so he can lower her down to the street. Recovery Girl looks at the girl’s ankle and tuts.

“Looks sprained. Here, let me.” The Hero gives the girl a quick kiss on the leg, and the discoloration fades. The girl sags against Izuku.

“I’m so sorry!” she says, “I didn’t mean to!”

“It’s okay!” Izuku says quickly with a blush. Recovery Girl looks up at him, unimpressed.

“So you’re the rapscallion that went up against the Zero Pointer?” Izuku nods. “And how many injuries are you hiding from me, hmm?”

“H—hiding?” Izuku frantically shakes his head. “I—I just—nothing hurts?” Izuku blinks as he realizes that’s true. He really doesn’t hurt. He looks down at himself again. Sweat and blood mat his fur. Izuku furrows his brow. “I—I know that I got some scratches. Nothing big, but, uh, but I definitely scraped myself a few times. And I, uh, don’t have any protection for my feet… but I’m fine?”

Recovery Girl tilts her head, shrugs, and gives the back of his hand a quick kiss. She looks up at him.

“You’re completely uninjured,” she says. “I didn’t feel anything with my Quirk just now.”

“Guess you heal quick, huh?” the girl says. She straightens herself out and takes an unsteady step. Recovery girl reaches into a pocket on her white coat and pulls out a small gummy, which she hands to the girl.

“Take this, dearie. It’ll give you some stamina.” The girl nods and pops the candy into her mouth without hesitation. She looks better instantly. Some of the shine comes back to her eyes, some of the red back to her cheeks. “Now go on home, you two,” says Recovery Girl. “Exam’s over.” She waves them off, moving away to help other examinees.

Izuku and the girl make their way down the wrecked street back to the entrance of the testing site.

“Uraraka Ochaco,” says the girl after a few seconds of silence.

“Eh?”

“My name. I’m Uraraka Ochaco,” she says.

“Midoriya Izuku,” says Izuku awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet you, Uraraka!”

“Thank you so much for taking down that robot,” she says, a hand over her heart like as though she’s checking her heart rate. “I thought I was a goner!” Izuku rubs the back of his head. “And then you started running up the walls! I’m sorry about your pants though…”

“My pants?” Izuku says blankly. Uraraka looks at him with an unreadable expression. Izuku looks down and sees for the first time the tattered fabric loosely draped over his legs. There isn’t anything left of the poor track pants below the knees. What little material remains doesn’t look like it’s in much better condition. The area covering his thighs is torn full of holes and frayed at the end. Not enough to compromise Izuku’s modesty, thankfully, but he blushes anyway. “How did that happen?” Uraraka blinks.

“Have you never done that before?” she says. Slowly, Izuku shakes his head.

“I’ve, uh, never had to go that fast before,” he says. “I—I guess I’ve never pushed myself so hard…”

“I guess you’ll have to make a note about that when you submit your costume!” Uraraka giggles.

“Wha—you’re talking like I’ve already been accepted!” sputters Izuku.

“You saved my life, I sure hope they’ve accepted you,” she says.

“I’m sure they—they wouldn’t have let it, let it…” he trails off. ‘Crush you’ goes unsaid, but they both hear it and shudder.

“Do you want to trade numbers?” Uraraka says. It’s so quiet Izuku isn’t sure he could’ve heard it without his rabbit ears.

“’trade numbers?’” he parrots. She nods.

“Y’know, like phone numbers?” she says, head tilted. “Even if we don’t get in, I want to be friends.”

Oh. Oh! Izuku doesn’t think he’s ever done that before. He and Kacchan got phones long after the Quirkless diagnosis. So Kacchan never actually gave Izuku his number.  

“Sure!” he says. He hopes he doesn’t sound desperate. A friend! “Do you live around here?”

“No,” Uraraka shakes her head. “I live in Mie.” Izuku grimaces. That’s two whole prefectures away. Izuku doubts either of them can consistently make that kind of trip if they want to hang out.

“How, uh, early did you have to get up this morning?” Izuku asks. The written exam started at 8:00. Given commute times… Izuku winces.

“Oh!” Uraraka says in understanding. “No, I stayed in a hotel.” That’s a relief to hear.

“Excuse me!” Izuku and Uraraka stop mid-step as the stocky boy from before waves them down. Izuku tenses slightly as the other boy approaches. “I never finished apologizing!” The boy bows at a perfect 90-degree angle. “I did not mean to make you so uncomfortable earlier! You have my sincerest apologies!” Izuku and Uraraka share a glance.

“It’s, uh, it’s fine,” Izuku says, scratching the back of his head, one ear hangs down half-lop. “I didn’t even know that—that would… affect me like that.” It’s true. Izuku has never reacted that way to having a hand on his shoulder. And that scares him. He’s not sure whether he’s scared from old interactions with Kacchan or if his new discomfort with contact there is a sign from… from then.

The other boy stands back to full height again.

“And you also went above and beyond, realizing the true purpose of the exam!”

“True… purpose?” says Uraraka. Izuku blinks. He tilts his head.

“I—I don’t know what you mean,” he says.

“You must have known time was running out,” the boy says. Izuku nods, and the boy continues, “There was little time left, and you yourself were in the line of fire from that robot. You could have left to ensure your own passing. Despite that, you jumped in to save her without hesitation!”

“But she needed help?” says Izuku. Why wouldn’t he help someone in need?

“Exactly!” the boy says, chopping a hand against his palm. “You gained nothing by doing so, only that it is how a Hero should behave! Surely that too must be part of the test!”

“Huh,” says Uraraka, “That makes a lot of sense.”

“I hope so,” Izuku sighs, “This test is pretty, uh, biased against non-physical Quirks.”

“Hmm, I had not considered that,” says the stock boy, wrapping a hand around his chin. “It’s true that many Pro Heroes have Quirks ill-suited for use against robots.”

“I know!” says Izuku, forgetting his anxiety in favor of his passion for Heroes. “What would Best Jeanist have done? He’d have to try and use his own clothes to jam up the gears! And what if his clothes were damaged while fighting? He’d be constantly expending his ammunition!”

“Present Mic said we could bring stuff with us for support,” Uraraka says, tapping her cheek. “Maybe he could bring more fabric with him?”

“Or a weapon!” Izuku says. “A lot of Pros with non-physical Quirks use support equipment and weapons!”

Flesh smacks against flesh. Izuku’s raised ear twitches towards the noise. A passing examinee with wild purple hair has his hand slapped against his forehead.

“Damn it, I should’ve thought of that,” he mutters.

“Bad matchup?” Uraraka asks. The boy nods but does not elaborate. He just keeps walking. Izuku doesn’t want to press. After all, he’s letting everyone believe he has a mutation Quirk.

“A—anyway,” Izuku says, “we should get going. I’d, uh, like to shower.” Cleaning his fur can be a real hassle if he doesn’t get to it right away.

“And I left my phone in the locker room anyway,” Uraraka says. “Meet me out front in a few?” Izuku nods with a small smile, but Uraraka beams.

The stocky boy leaves, espousing the virtues of proper hygiene much to Uraraka’s amusement.

Izuku showers quickly, having five months of practice cleaning the fur covering his legs, and puts his outdoor clothes back on as fast as he can. Even so, Uraraka is already waiting for him as he arrives at the front gate to UA. She giggles as he approaches.

“Your fur is all puffed up!” she snickers, pointing to Izuku’s bare feet. Izuku laughs quietly. His fur takes a while to settle after being washed and dried. If Uraraka could see the fur under his pants, she’d see how fluffy his fur can really get.

“Yeah, it, uh, does that,” he says. Uraraka smiles at him as she pulls out her phone. A flip phone. Izuku is pretty certain those went out of production before the Dawn of Quirks. Where did she find it?

“Here’s my number!” she says, holding it out to him so he can see. Izuku nods, copying it down into his contacts. He sends a quick text to Uraraka.

Izuku: Hi Uraraka! It’s Midoriya!

She looks down at her phone expectantly.

Uraraka: 🐇🐇🐇

Izuku smiles at the adorable response. Then freezes as his stomach loudly rumbles. Uraraka giggles as he turns beat red.

“I—I must’ve worked up an appetite…” he murmurs, scratching his cheek, looking off to the side.

“To be honest, I did too,” Uraraka says. Possibly because she emptied her stomach after saving Izuku’s life.

“Would you, uh, would you want to come over? To my house? I’m sure mom wouldn’t mind, uh, making food for three,” says Izuku. Maybe he’s being forward. But he hasn’t had a friend over since he was four, sue him!

“I don’t want to impose,” Uraraka says as she rocks on her heels, head ducked slightly.

“You aren’t,” Izuku says, beaming. “I haven’t had anyone over in a while, so…” Uraraka hesitates.

“What do you mean you haven’t had anyone over?” she asks. Izuku stiffens. Years of jeers and insults replay in his mind. Realization seems to dawn on Uraraka. “Does it have to do with that jerk who was threatening you?” Izuku can’t find it in him to say anything. So he nods. “Can—” Uraraka fidgets, “Can I pet you again?” Izuku shakily nods again and lowers his head so she can reach better. Uraraka gently strokes the fur around his ears, the worry melting away from both of them.

“Well, if you haven’t had any friends over in a while, I’ll just have to be the first,” Uraraka says, pulling her hand away and nudging Izuku with her shoulder.

He beams.