Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A holdout camp north of where UA was currently stationed had sent out an SOS. That was what had started it—that was what had led to what Katsuki was looking at now.

So. An SOS that Katsuki and Deku had rushed out to answer. A typical scene upon arrival. Collapsed building, air full of concrete smoke, ground littered with debris both annoying and dangerous. Panicking civilians who were still, for some godforsaken reason, refusing to pack up and move into a designated safe zone. Deku trying to both reassure them and strongarm them into coming to UA.

Eight years of officially being considered a Pro Hero. Three years at UA before that, doing a lot of Pro-level work even without all the proper qualifications. And it still managed to annoy Katsuki every fuckin’ time that some damn civilian was an idiot. Even though it really shouldn’t be a surprise at this point.

It probably didn’t help that they were living in a Japan that was largely controlled by All for One, which automatically meant everything was twice as annoying as it needed to be.

Anyway. Standard situation. Controlled explosions to break down bigger debris and control the collapse so it didn’t unexpectedly crush anyone if a stray pebble moved an inch. Deku on more direct evac duty. Shouto inbound, slow as shit because his fuckin’ father needed to “have a chat” with him. A basic summary of how everything in their lives went: Deku helping people, Katsuki controlling the situation, Shouto nipping at their heels.

A villain disrupting shit at the worst possible time.

She was barely recognizable, was the thing. Katsuki only vaguely recalled seeing her face on the ever-growing updated list of new League members. It wasn’t his fault that he had trouble remembering all the goddamn new recruits that popped up like fleas on a terrier—every time they had a meeting to review the week’s additions Deku looked like someone had kicked his fuckin’ puppy. Obviously Katsuki had to give that his full attention. The villains would always be there, but it was his job as Deku’s idiot fiance to make sure the nerd was okay.

So it came as no surprise that when Katsuki jumped in to fight, he was relying on Deku’s knowledge.

“Her name is Vanish!” Deku shouted, launching forwards with a combination of Float and Blackwhip to scoop up all the civilians that were too close to the fight. “She has a five-point-touch quirk that makes anything she touches disappear!”

“Like Shigaraki?” Katsuki hollered back, jumping backwards to avoid a swipe of splayed fingers.

“No, instantly vanish! Like, poof, gone!”

“Like faster Shigaraki,” Katsuki muttered to himself. Deku apparently had finished rescuing the last of the civilians from the rubble, because he dropped in on the other side of Vanish, eyes squinted in a way that Katsuki knew meant he was coming up with a strategy.

Katsuki let off a larger-than-average blast from both palms. Like most villains without fire-based quirks, she reacted to the explosion by leaping backwards as fast as she could.

Right into Deku’s waiting net of Blackwhip.

Ha. Victory. It always tasted so sweet, even against third-rate D-listers like this chick.

Blackwhip had pinned her hands to the outside of each thigh. Even restrained, she held one finger on each hand carefully aloft, in the manner usually adopted by people with five-point-touch quirks. Katsuki took his quirk-suppressant cuffs out of his utility belt, and approached carefully.

“Good work, Kacchan!” Deku beamed at him. As always, it made the victory seem even better.

“Heh. You know it, nerd. Good work,” Katsuki replied. It had been good work. Good, simple strategy. Fast evacuation.

They maneuvered carefully as Deku used Blackwhip to separate and hold Vanish’s hands in a mockery of the handcuffs that Katsuki was about to attach around her wrists. Deku had to stand in front of Vanish so he could see what he was doing, and Katsuki was pressed close to be in range of her hands. Katsuki reached out to cuff her, Deku loosened Blackwhip to lets the cuffs go on—

Vanish lunged—

Katsuki lunged forwards in response, intent on getting her in cuffs, but he was lunging into thin air. He heard Deku shout out in alarm beside him.

The first thing Katsuki noticed was that the air, inexplicably, was clear. No kicked-up dust from the building collapse, no smoke from the resulting electrical fires, nothing. Second, he was standing on grass.

Third. He was looking into a mirror. Familiar red eyes were staring up at him, wide with an emotion he didn’t recognize on himself. Probably because his reflection didn’t look right. It was… too chubby-cheeked. Too short.

It was, he realized with mounting horror, not a reflection. It was him, standing there in a black gakuran. Eyes wide, cheeks betraying his youth. Shorter than he was now by a full forty centimeters. There was only one possible reaction.

“What the fuck,” Katsuki said, at the same time as his younger self. Their voices, one post-puberty and one just starting, harmonized. Katsuki recoiled at the same time his younger self did.

He grimaced. “This in-synch shit needs to cut out now,” Katsuki demanded of the universe. Since his younger self did not echo his words as he said them, he supposed that for once, the universe obliged.

“Are you… me?” asked the tentative voice of a much younger Deku. It snapped Katsuki out of where he had been stuck staring at his own younger self, but now he was entrapped by the sight next to him.

In a mirror of how Katsuki and Baby Katsuki were, Deku and Baby Deku were also standing and staring at each other like idiots. The difference was that, seemingly unlike how Katsuki and Baby Katsuki had clocked each other as each other immediately, Baby Deku was having some trouble getting with the program.

Katsuki supposed it could be excused. Deku had his mouthguard up to filter out the concrete dust, and it blocked out the bottom half of his face. But still. He was still recognizably Deku.

“Yeah, I’m… you,” Deku answered, seemingly so bewildered and caught off-guard that he couldn’t even mumble about this weird fuckin’ situation.

“I’m really a hero in the future?” Baby Deku asked, tearing up. That was about when Katsuki remembered that, oh, yeah, Baby Katsuki here was a horrible person. His gaze snapped back to his younger self just in time to see how his eyes narrowed and lips lifted in a sneer.

Deku snapped his head over to look at both of them, and spoke before Baby Katsuki could.

“Kacchan, if you attack him, I will put you on the ground before you can blink,” he threatened, voice ice-cold. Katsuki pulled a sneer of his own and reluctantly took a step back. Baby Katsuki’s own sneer faltered as he registered Deku’s tone of voice, and then failed to register which Kacchan he was talking to.

Chump.

Katsuki didn’t really have room to talk, seeing as he had also backed down, but at least he had several memories of Deku being dangerous and scary as fuck in battle, which this Katsuki did not have.

So that was where Katsuki found himself. Holding back from attacking his younger self, for fear of angering his fiance, after responding to what should have been a fairly routine SOS call.

He wondered what he did to deserve this.

Chapter Text

Katsuki hadn’t really been about to attack Deku… but when the older Deku snapped not to attack, it lit up some instinct in his chest that he didn’t recognize. It was… cold.

Like hell was he gonna let any version of Deku talk down to him, though. He regathered himself quickly, hoping his lapse hadn’t been noticed.

“HAAAH?” he shouted. “You think you can tell me what to do, you piece of shit? Even if you are a hero and this isn’t some dumbass cosplay, you’re probably so useless at it that you aren’t even ranked!”

Deku shrank back, holding his clenched hands to his chest. The older Deku smiled at him.

The older Katsuki snapped his eyes from where they had strayed, blazing with an anger that he was unused to seeing anywhere but the mirror. It actually looked stronger than it usually did in the mirror.

“Deku—” the older Katsuki started, voice growling.

“No, Kacchan,” the older Deku said, all fuckin’ smiles for no goddamn reason. Katsuki was right! There was no way shitty, quirkless Deku of all people could be a hero, much less a ranked one. He bet it was cosplay. But the older Deku just kept smiling, serene as shit, looking like he didn’t give a flying fuck. It pissed Katsuki off.

“Listen up, you fuckin’ dumbass,” the older version of Katsuki said suddenly, the fact that he was restraining himself betrayed by his posture. “That man there is a great hero, no matter what you think. If you say one more thing against him, I’ll kill you myself.”

The older Deku sighed. Katsuki narrowed his eyes.

“I didn’t think I’d get dumber with age. No matter what the hell is going on here, I’m pretty sure that if you killed me, then you would die too, idiot,” Katsuki snapped, baring his teeth.

“It’s really possible?” Deku whimpered. It took Katsuki a second to rewind the conversation and figure out what the hell Deku was crying about now. “It’s really possible for me to be a hero without a quirk?”

Deku looked up at his older self, and, true to fuckin’ character, his eyes were brimming with tears. Disgusting. Obviously the fact that his older self was a hero (that Katsuki’s own older self had said was great? What kind of drugs—) meant a whole lot more to him than it might to the average extra.

And this was the part where Deku’s older self inevitably spat some dumbass sappy line about how it was all due to his determination, or something else just as repulsive—

But the older Deku. Fucking. Hesitated.

“What the hell?” Old Katsuki interjected. He looked Old Deku up and down. “Don’t make that face, idiot.” He turned to look at Deku. His face was strangely not-angry.

Deku looked up at him like whatever he said next might physically kill him.

“Of course it’s possible for you to be a quirkless hero,” Old Katsuki said. Deku burst into loud, embarrassing crying, collapsing to his knees like he couldn’t stand the weight of the hero’s words. And, well, Deku had always followed Katsuki around like some kind of annoying
puppy. Maybe, because it was him but as a hero saying this, he couldn’t bear that weight.

“Holy shit,” Old Deku whispered, staring blankly into the middle distance. Old Katsuki recoiled from where he had been gazing (fondly? What—) down at Deku, raising an eyebrow at Old Deku.

“Did you just cuss?” he asked him, redundantly.

“Kacchan, we’re in the past.”

“We established this, yes.”

“No, listen—we’re in the past. Vanish’s quirk has been used on people before. None of them have ever shown up again. Obviously if anyone knew her quirk was time travel we would have been told about it, so I think it’s fair to reason that this is a type of multiple-continuum time travel that creates branch timelines as we change things, and the very act of time travel changes things, meaning we’re isolated from our original branch and stuck in this time indefinitely. Additionally, the first thing we came in contact with was our younger selves, meaning that her quirk probably latches onto a person's biological signature—perhaps a DNA reading element of some kind?—and uses that as an anchor as they travel through time. We were halfway across the island, after all, so it only makes sense—”

“Oi. Nerd. All that is fascinating, but I need you to get to the point,” Old Katsuki interjected, which Katsuki was thankful for because he couldn’t stand the nerd’s muttering. The only bright side it had (this time) was that Deku had stopped crying to try and follow Old Deku’s train of thought.

“Right! Sorry, Kacchan. Um. My point is, if we’re stuck in the past anyway, we might as well try to save the future,” Old Deku said. Old Katsuki narrowed his eyes.

“How exactly would we go about doing that?” he asked.

“Well, we know what went wrong, before. So what if we just… change things so that other things don’t go as wrong? Obviously we’re not far back enough to stop the true root cause, but… imagine the League without Toga. Imagine…” Old Deku trailed off, then fixed his gaze on the still-kneeling form of his younger self. “Imagine me without my scars.”

Deku looked up at his older self with confusion. “Scars?” he echoed. Their older counterparts made no move to indicate they had heard him. Old Katsuki tilted his head to the side in consideration. Katsuki himself didn’t even know what needed to be considered.

Obviously. It’s not like he had a way to see the fuckin’ future.

“Okay. I like the sound of that. What’s the first step, Deku?”

It was like some kind of invisible shift had come over Old Deku. There was something about his posture, maybe. He looked, suddenly, very confident and in control.

“The first step is contacting UA. There can’t exactly be two Midoriya Izuku’s and two Bakugou Katsuki’s, legally. Principal Nedzu should be able to help us with the legal side of things. We also need to call Tsukauchi-san and Toshinori. The three of them, together, plus us and our younger selves. We should be able to go from there to make a more concrete plan,” Old Deku nodded, decisively.

Old Katsuki grinned, a sharp and dangerous thing. He turned to look at Katsuki.

“So. When’s the next train to UA?”

Chapter Text

So. This was going to be problematic. Izuku stared down at his phone as they waited for the train, thumb hovering over the “CALL” button on Tsukauchi-san’s contact.

“Do you think his number is still the same?” Izuku asked.

“You knew him for eight years in a professional setting. Did his number ever change then, Deku?” Kacchan answered.

Baby Izuku looked up at Izuku. “Who’s Tsukauchi-san, anyway?”

“He’s a detective with the Musutafu police. He has a lie-detection quirk. It means he’ll be able to back up our story so Nedzu doesn’t dismiss us as a quartet of fuckin’ weirdos,” Kacchan explained.

“Don’t lump me in with you!” Baby Kacchan exclaimed, mostly in reflex. Izuku had forgotten how cute Kacchan used to be. His cheeks were so round as a middle schooler.

“Right. Okay. I’ll call him, and then I’ll try to contact Principal Nedzu,” Izuku decided.

“Tch. Nedzu has a public email. I’ll put the emergency code in the subject line and draft a message while you call the detective. No point in you stressing out over it,” Kacchan said.

“Thanks, Kacchan,” Izuku replied, genuinely touched. Kacchan always looked out for him in the big ways, but somehow it felt more personal when he helped out in the small ways, too. Izuku could feel his face don a soft smile against his will.

“The hell is with that face you’re making?” Baby Kacchan demanded. Izuku grinned wider, just to mess with him, then looked away. He pressed down on the “CALL” button and lifted the phone to his ear.

Ring. Ring.

Ring. Ring.

Ri—Click!

“You’ve reached Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa. This is my personal line, so I would like to know how you got this number.”

“Tsukauchi-san! I got this number when you gave it to me! I’ve had a mishap involving a quirk, you see, so…”

“...Yes?”

“There’s not really a good way to say this, Tsukauchi-san, but I’m a hero from the future. I was hoping you could help me.”

“Well. You’re right, there’s not a very good way to say that. Lucky for you, my quirk works over the phone. I’m not exactly sure how I could help you, however…”

“Ah! That’s easy, actually! If you could, will you please meet with me at UA in—”

The train pulled into the station.

“—approximately thirty minutes!”

Tsukauchi-san sighed. “Sure. I can do that. Who should I be looking for, ah…”

Kacchan started pulling him into the train car.

“Oh! I’m Midoriya Izuku! I’ll be wearing a dark green hero costume with a metal mouthguard. I’ll be waiting outside UA’s front entrance!”

“Alright, Midoriya-san. I’ll meet you there!”

“Thank you!” Dial tone. Tsukauchi-san had hung up.

“Well?” Kacchan asked, raising one eyebrow.

“He’ll meet us outside UA in about thirty minutes!” Izuku explained, excitedly.

“Thank fuck. If he said no I really don’t know how Nedzu would believe anything we say,” Kacchan said, shoulder slumping as he relaxed. Sometimes Izuku suspected that Kacchan had the same amount of trouble with anxiety as he did, and was just better at hiding it.

“No, because you inherited my super-anxiety, remember?” Hikage half-joked. “Nobody can have worse anxiety, actually.”

Daigoro burst out laughing.

“What did you say to Nedzu, anyway?” Izuku asked.

“That we were heroes from the future and willing to prove it.”

“Uh, did you add… anything else?” Izuku asked, wincing.

“What else is there to add? Everything important oughta be explained in person, anyway,” Kacchan groused.

“Oh, yikes,” said Second. Izuku politely ignored him.

“I… suppose you have a point. It just seems a little sparse, I guess.”

“Right, like I couldn’t have sent the fuckin’ rat three words and had him immediately know what’s going on,” Kacchan snapped. Baby Izuku’s eyes went wide.

“You can’t call Principal Nedzu a rat! He’s a respected hero!” he exclaimed, at a volume that was much too loud. Several other commuters gave their group sideways glances.

“Shut the fuck up, Deku,” Baby Kacchan hissed. Baby Izuku shrank back under both the looks of the other commuters and the force of Baby Kacchan’s glare.

“Aw, he’s precious,” cooed Nana, unhelpfully.

“Oi, be nice,” Kacchan scolded, slapping Baby Kacchan upside the head lightly.

“You both be nice or we can get off at the next stop and walk!” Izuku threatened in a low voice.

“Tch,” Baby Kacchan dismissed him, but averted his eyes and shut up. Mission accomplished.

Kacchan shuffled his feet and fell silent, also averting his eyes. Mission accomplished there, too.

“Heh. Whipped,” Banjo chuckled.

“Make one more whip pun and I’m finding a way to kill ghosts,” En threatened.

“You’re stalling,” Kacchan interjected suddenly, whipping (oh god they were infectious) his head around to meet Izuku’s gaze. “Call Yagi.”

Unfortunately, Kacchan was right. He was stalling. It was just… Toshinori didn’t even know him yet! And he was so close to him back in… in the future. He hadn’t even been in the past for a whole hour yet, okay? Sue him for not adjusting to the idea of losing everyone he loved in an instant! Or, well, at least his relationships with everyone he loved…

“Oh, sweetheart,” Nana whispered. “It’s okay, baby. It’s going to be okay.”

“Who’s Yagi?” Baby Kacchan asked.

“Toshinori. Sorry, I call him by his given name, but Kacchan always sticks to his family name for some reason…” Izuku explained. Kacchan’s face turned red from embarrassment.

“It’s respectful, asshole!”

“Okay, so, Principal Nedzu, a detective with a lie-detection quirk, and… a random man named Yagi Toshinori?” Baby Izuku summed up, obviously trying to get to a point, but unsure how to articulate it. Izuku felt an overwhelming sense of fondness for his younger self. A matching sense of pride welled up for his current self; he had come so far. Combined, it was just…

I am fond of you for the innocence you still hold, Izuku thought towards Baby Izuku. And I am proud of myself for growing from where you are now; for gaining experience and maturity, and for overcoming the insecurities you still live with.

“You can see it now, can’t you? Why I was fond of you from the start,” Yoichi murmured.

Thanks, Izuku thought back to him.

“Yagi isn’t random,” Katsuki spit. “He’s important!”

“Well, I’ve never heard of him. How important can he be?” Baby Kacchan scoffed.

“Oh,” Kacchan said, face slowly being overtaken by what Denki had once called the baby-eating grin, “I am going to make you eat those words.”

Chapter Text

His older self navigated to a contact, pressed “CALL”, and raised the phone to his ear. Yagi Toshinori must have picked up his phone a lot faster than the detective, because his older self kind of yelped and then started talking really fast.

“TOSHINORI—I mean Yagi-san! Uh, I mean, um, listen sorry I can’t explain how I got your number because I know itisatopsecretnumberthatnobodyissupposedtohave but I PROMISE I have it for a good reason! Anyway I need you to meet me at UA please very soon the train moves fast please meet me in ten minutes? I called Tsukauchi-san first he has more details please talk to him before you decide to kill me thank you.”

And then he hung up.

Older Kacchan was looking at Older Izuku with raised eyebrows, an expression on his face that seemed to explain both his bewilderment and his amusement with the situation.

“That was the best you could do, huh, nerd?” he asked (in a way which was very mild for Kacchan. Izuku was still trying to figure out this strange Older Kacchan).

Older Izuku keened, burying his face in his hands. “It’s so weird! He doesn’t know me yet! He could have thought I was an enemy, or… or—I don’t even know! He could have thought anything! I just didn’t want to alarm him!”

“So you thought if you just talked fast enough that he, what, wouldn’t have time to be alarmed? You probably just freaked him out more,” Older Kacchan said.

“Oh, no, you think so?”

“No. Relax. I think he’ll call Tsukauchi and then we can all figure this fuckin’ mess out together when we meet at UA.”

“Oh. Thanks, Kacchan.”

“Also, you gave him the wrong meetup time. We won’t be there in ten minutes.”

“Well—I—Kacchan!” Older Izuku exclaimed, indignant. It drew a few more irritated glances (their group had been getting a lot of those), but his older self didn’t even seem to notice.

His older self was almost as much of an enigma as the older Kacchan was. He didn’t seem to notice the looks, he was a hero (!!!), and he was filthy. Though, from what Izuku had noticed from the conversations their older selves had, they had battled some kind of villain that had sent them to the past, so Izuku supposed the fact that they were both covered in dirt could be explained by that. It didn’t seem to help the opinions of the other commuters, though.

A few minutes passed in tense silence; the train stopped, let some passengers off and other passengers on, and then took off again.

“What will we say when we get there? What will we tell Principal Nedzu and Tsukauchi-san and Toshinori?” Older Izuku asked, speaking in a low tone.

“The truth,” Older Kacchan replied, voice just as quiet. “What else?”

“How much of the truth?”

“Only as much as they need to know.”

“Should we… should we call sensei as well?”

“Fuck no. Who knows what he’s doing right now—you want to chance interrupting some fuckin’ undercover shit? We’ll ask Nedzu about him, is that okay?”

“Yeah. That’s okay.”

“Who the fuck is your sensei?” Kacchan demanded.

“Your sensei, if nothing gets too fucked up,” Older Kacchan snapped back.

“Calm down, both of you,” Older Izuku ordered. “Kacchan, they’re not even enrolled at UA yet. Give it a rest.”

Older Kacchan huffed. It was seriously starting to weird Izuku out, how non-aggressive he was.

Another minute of silence passed. Once again, Older Izuku broke it.

“We need to call our parents,” he whispered guiltily.

“We need to talk to fuckin’ Nedzu before we make any fuckin’ decisions!” Older Kacchan snapped back.

“I’m just trying to get ahead of it! We’ll need to contact our parents either way, right?”

“No. Stop stressing. Listen to whatever Shimura’s telling you,” Older Kacchan ordered.

“Okay. I can do that. Okay,” Older Izuku agreed. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.

“Who’s Shimura-san?” Izuku asked, peering around Older Izuku to address Older Kacchan. Older Kacchan made a considering face, then frowned.

“Nobody you need to worry about.”

“How are they telling older-me anything? Shouldn’t anyone you know still be, y’know, in the future?” Izuku pressed.

“It’s complicated,” Older Kacchan said.

“That’s code for shut the fuck up, Deku!” Kacchan yelled, just beneath the acceptable volume to use on a train.

“Oi,” Older Kacchan growled, glaring down at Kacchan.

“Just because I’m talking to Nana doesn’t mean I can’t hear you, Kacchan,” Older Izuku warned mildly. Once again, Older Kacchan backed off on his word. It was really starting to move into uncomfortable levels of weird.

Once again, a few minutes of silence passed. Their older selves didn’t seem to mind it, but to Izuku the silence seemed to just get more awkward as time went on. He accidentally made eye-contact with Kacchan from where he stood on the other side of Older Kacchan, who grimaced in solidarity before he visibly realized that he was agreeing with shitty Deku and looked away sharply.

Finally, they arrived at the correct stop for UA. Getting off the train felt like a breath of fresh air. Izuku would swear that the atmosphere inside that train had become downright stifling.

There were still a few blocks between them and the entrance to UA, but the school was big enough that four shiny towers rose up above the brick facades of the street they were on.

“Wow…” Izuku didn’t even mean to speak out loud, but it was awe-inspiring.

“UA…” Kacchan seemed to be in the same boat, but Izuku wasn’t dumb enough to point that out.

“Aw, Kacchan! Isn’t this so nostalgic!” Older Izuku squealed. He apparently had none of the same reservations.

“Yeah, nerd. More than I thought it would be, anyway,” Older Kacchan agreed. Then he reached out his hand and threaded his fingers through Older Izuku’s fingers. Izuku was starting to suspect that at some point in the future Kacchan had been replaced by some kind of imposter. A shapeshifting quirk, maybe?

They finally rounded the last corner between them and UA, and the building loomed above them, a shining pillar of hero society. Izuku was in awe.

Between them and the actual building, of course, was the famous UA Barrier. A stylized gate showed the way into the school. Standing in front of the gate were two men that Izuku didn’t recognize. One was extremely tall, but also very skinny. He had scraggly blond hair and sunken eyes. The other wore a fedora and a trenchcoat, stood at an average height, and was as plain faced as Izuku himself.

They drew even with them and stopped.

“Detective Tsukauchi-san!” Older Izuku greeted. “Toshi—I mean YAGI-SAN! Nice to see you both!”

“Calm down, nerd,” Older Kacchan admonished, half-heartedly. Detective Tsukauchi-san tilted his head to one side as the tall man hunched nervously behind him. Neither looked excited to see their group.

“When we spoke on the phone, Midoriya-san, I was under the impression that we would be meeting alone,” the detective said.

“Oh! I’m so sorry for misleading you! This is my hero partner, Bakugou Katsuki. And, as I mentioned, we’re from the future, so these are our… uh, current selves,” Older Izuku explained, politely introducing everyone.

“And you wanted to meet at UA, with Yagi here… why, exactly?” Tsukauchi-san asked.

“We appeared in front of our past selves. We don’t exactly have legal identities in this time period. We figured Nedzu would be able to help us,” Older Kacchan explained, gruffly.

“A good instinct. However, it doesn’t explain the need for my presence,” Yagi-san spoke up.

“That is something we need to discuss when we’re inside already. It, uh, it has to do with your quirk,” Older Izuku said hesitantly. Izuku’s interest was immediately captured.

“His quirk? What is it? Why would it be secret? Does it have to do with how tall he is?” Izuku asked.

“Calm down, geez. You’ll find out soon enough,” Older Kacchan said.

“Why do you know anything about my quirk?” Yagi-san asked. His whole demeanor had changed. Suddenly, he seemed… dangerous. He was standing up straight, using all of that height to loom over their group, even from where he stood behind the detective. His eyes had darkened, and yet they burned a bright, cold ice-blue.

Older Izuku met his gaze fearlessly.

“Because I’m next,” he proclaimed. Even though Izuku didn’t know what that meant, exactly (how could he be “next” at anything having to do with a quirk?), Older Izuku’s words clearly had an effect on Yagi-san and Tsukauchi-san.

“And isn’t that an interesting bit of information!” exclaimed a squeaky voice from behind the two stunned men. They each stepped back to look at the newcomer.

Principal Nedzu himself stood framed in the archway of the gate that led into UA. He stepped back and gestured expansively with one arm, beckoning them to enter.

“I believe this is a conversation we should all continue in my office, yes?” Principal Nedzu prompted. Everyone nodded, and walked forwards.

Izuku was going to be inside UA! And talk to Principal Nedzu! This was so cool!

Chapter Text

Katsuki looked Tsukauchi up and down critically. He looked a lot better than he did back… or, well, in the future. His face was clean-shaven, for one. Tsukauchi caught his gaze and raised an eyebrow.

“How the hell did you beat us here, anyway? Deku called you when we were already on the train,” Katsuki asked.

“Well, I was just going to finish what I was doing and drive, but then I got a strange text from Yagi, here. So I suppose you could say I took the express route.”

“Tch. That makes sense, I guess,” Katsuki conceded.

Nedzu led their group into the building, and then to the elevator. They all fit, but it was an uncomfortable squeeze. Baby Katsuki was visibly uncomfortable, but he also wasn’t exploding anything, so Katsuki supposed that was as much as he could ask for.

They all spilled out once the elevator stopped. Yagi hadn’t stopped sending suspicious glances towards Deku and Baby Deku the whole time. The rat led them into his office, then locked the door.

“Okay! This room is soundproof, radiation-proof, quirk-proof, and generally as secure as I could reasonably get it! Now we can discuss things freely!” he said excitedly.

“You said you’re next,” Yagi demanded instantly, rounding on Deku, voice hard.

“I am. Please remember that we are from the future,” Deku requested. He turned to address Baby Deku. “How old are you, exactly?”

“I’m thirteen,” Baby Deku answered easily.

“So I am from about twelve years in the future,” Deku declared, spinning back around to face Yagi.

“You can’t keep going forever, old man. You knew this was coming,” Katsuki said remorselessly.

“Kacchan!” Deku gasped, scandalized.

“I suppose… I just thought I had more time,” Yagi sighed. “I suppose you know about it, as well?”

“I do,” Katsuki agreed, steadfastly avoiding Nedzu’s beady gaze.

“Know about what, assholes?” Baby Katsuki yelled.

“Perhaps it would be best if you started from the beginning. Can you give us a summary of how you got here?” Nedzu requested, setting his tea down delicately. When had he even gotten tea?

“We were fighting a villain. A newbie on the scene, calling herself Vanish. We nearly had cuffs on her when she unexpectedly lunged and caught both of us in her quirk. There was no evidence to suggest that her quirk had anything to do with time travel; she didn’t even seem to know. We were just suddenly standing face-to-face with our fuckin’ baby versions,” Katsuki reported dutifully.

“You’re rather… dirty, for having come from a villain fight. I can’t imagine a time-travel quirk causing that level of damage,” Tsukauchi pointed out.

“She had a five-point-touch quirk. It worked on inorganic materials, but there was no debris around us when we appeared here, so I don’t know where it’s going. She used her quirk to simulate what we thought was a fairly routine building collapse. Neither one of us expected it to be a trap,” Deku explained.

“Um, if I could, Principal Nedzu?” Baby Deku interjected.

“Yes?”

“Before my older self and Kacchan’s older self appeared in the park, there was a strange effect in the air… it drew our attention. It looked like a heat haze, except it was outlined in white lightning. It only lasted a few seconds,” Baby Deku explains.

“Interesting! Thank you, young man,” Nedzu cheered.

“I’m more interested in what could possibly make a building collapse routine,” Yagi asked. And shit. That was something that All Might would know about, with how many disaster zones he helped in.

“The future…” Deku hesitated.

“The future is shit. Your fuckin’ shadow war comes into the light and proceeds to kick our asses. Lucky for you, you now have us. We’re the fuckin’ Wonder Duo, y’hear? The Symbols of Hope and Victory!” Katsuki proclaimed. Deku turned to look at him with heart eyes. Hell yeah.

Baby Deku burst into tears. What the fuck.

“You’re not making that up? You’re being serious?” Baby Deku asked, a tinge desperate.

Oh, right. Baby Deku was still a stick with a brain full of dreams but not much skill. Of course it would surprise him that he was any kind of Symbol.

“What, you think I’m a fuckin’ liar?” Katsuki demanded. Tsukauchi sighed.

“Midoriya-kun, I can assure you that what he said was true. That is what I’m here for,” the detective said. Fuck yeah. This made Baby Deku cry harder, but these were good tears so Katsuki guessed it was fine. Other than Deku, though, every adult in the room looked pretty uncomfortable.

“I’m the Symbol of Victory?” Baby Katsuki asked. Oh, right. This would be news to him too.

“Well I sure as shit ain’t the Symbol of Hope,” Katsuki snapped.

“Kacchan, calm down,” Deku requested, softly. He crouched down next to Baby Deku and ran his hand up and down his back lightly. “Hey, hey. I know everything is a little overwhelming right now, but can you reign it in a little? You’re not going to learn anything else here if you exhaust yourself crying.”

Miraculously, it seems to work. Baby Deku takes some deep breaths, and wipes at his eyes, and it’s not instant, but he stops crying and straightens up.

“Thank god,” Baby Katsuki mutters, under his breath. Katsuki decides he’ll let that one slide, but only because Baby Deku didn’t seem to hear it.

“You’re both a Symbol?” Yagi asked.

“Yeah. We’re hero partners, anyway, and…”

“And the Symbol title kind of took off for the more prominent members of our class, after All Might retired. Society replaced one Symbol with many,” Katsuki finished for him.

“And what made me choose you, young man?” Yagi turned to Deku and narrowed his eyes in consideration.

“There was… a situation. And I asked you if I could be a hero. You, uh, you said no. But, I rushed in to save my friend anyway—my body moved before I could think. You recognized that, and I suppose you just liked me? And so you made the offer,” Deku explains. Tsukauchi pays careful attention, nodding every time that Yagi looks over at him.

“Probably helped that you recognized yourself in him,” Katsuki interjects. Deku flushes bright red.

“Kacchan!” he hisses.

“What? Quirkless, dreamer, self-sacrificial, prone to overworking, smiling while you fight…”

“Okay, only one of those is actually trying to mimic Toshinori! And he’s just mimicking Nana, anyway, so—”

“So you both mimic your mentors, too,” Katsuki shrugged.

“Kacchan!” Deku squealed.

“I’m confused?” Baby Deku tentatively said.

“Yeah, me too! You brought us in here because Scarecrow’s quirk is top secret or some shit, and now you’re telling me he’s quirkless? What the hell are we even here for!” Baby Katsuki screeches.

“Uh! Your younger self makes a good point, Kacchan! We’re not really here to convince Toshinori about his successor!”

“No, we are. If it’s not you, it shouldn’t be anybody.”

“Principal Nedzu! Because we are from the future, we need legal identities to continue going forwards! As alumni of UA, we were hoping you would be willing to help us!” Deku requested, bowing politely.

“Well, it certainly seems like an interesting challenge! I would be delighted to help! Of course, I will need some more details from you in order to craft you something that looks real,” Nedzu cackled.

“Of course! What do you need to know?” Izuku asked, enthusiastically.

Nedzu grinned.

Chapter Text

Principal Nedzu’s grin had always been a little frightening, but Izuku knew it also meant that things were likely to get done about twice as fast as they would otherwise. This was a good thing.

“It would be helpful if you would be willing to give me a quick summary of your work experiences and goals moving forwards. Additionally, I will need full names, birthdates, and the names of organizations that your younger selves have ties with currently. Full disclosure about your quirks would also be useful, and from that information we can make the needed modifications!” Principal Nedzu rattled off.

“Like hell! You want to give a younger Izuku information on everything that goes bad in the future? We’re not sayin’ anything until the younguns are out of the room!” Daigoro shouted. Izuku winced.

“That’s a good point…” he murmured back.

“What was that?” Kacchan asked.

“We need our younger selves to wait outside if we’re going to discuss anything about the future,” Izuku admitted, addressing Principal Nedzu. “They both have heroic spirits, and I don’t want them to think that they need to do anything to help us and commit acts of vigilantism.”

“Is that something we need to be worried about?” Toshinori asked, taken aback.

“Like you were any better!” Nana laughed.

“Yes,” Izuku said.

“Ugh. Yeah, it is. I should have thought of that,” Kacchan agreed.

“What? You can’t drag us all the way here and then make us sit outside for the interesting part!” Baby Kacchan protested.

“I can and I will,” Kacchan growled.

“Your older selves have a point,” Tsukauchi-san said.

“Unexpected backup,” Yoichi noted cheerfully.

“Fine,” Baby Kacchan growled. He stomped out into the hallway, and Baby Izuku hesitantly followed him. Principal Nedzu pushed a button on his desk which shut the door, and then pulled up a security camera on one of his monitors which displayed a picture of their younger selves.

“Alright. You may begin,” Principal Nedzu said.

“Like I said, the future is shit. Starting our first year of high school, All For One started making major moves. His chosen protege and successor, Shigaraki Tomura, starts a group called the League of Villains and attacks UA. Repeatedly. His intention was to kill All Might, but his intentions changed over time,” Kacchan explained.

“Why would they attack UA if their goal was to kill me?” Toshinori asked.

“You started as a teacher there during our first year to oversee your successor’s education.”

“At the end of our first year, things got… much worse,” Izuku began. “All For One used his quirk to create a copy of his own quirk and gifted it to Shigaraki Tomura. Through this copy, AFO was able to possess Shigaraki’s body, melding their consciousness and further twisting Shigaraki into the evil overlord AFO wanted him to be.”

“It’s not your fault,” Nana said, softly. A whispered consensus followed after her words; a surussus of affirmations from the past users.

“AFO used Shigaraki and his League to take over Japan entirely. It was an all-out war from that point forward. The HPSC fell early, and the hero schools became mobile fortresses full of both students and civilians in order to provide any semblance of safety to the larger populations of Japan,” Kacchan explained.

“Hero schools became the authority administering hero licenses. Hero students with provisional licenses are often asked to help out pros. Internships have become a lot more dangerous. Applications and attendance to hero schools has tanked. When AFO first started making moves using Shigaraki’s body, Pro Heroes quit by the dozens. In the years that followed, dozens more died,” Izuku continued. “Right now, there’s upwards of five-hundred Pro Heroes operating in Japan, right? In the future, that number is closer to fifty.”

“It’s a complete collapse of society. Other than obtaining OFA, AFO has already won,” Kacchan finished, grimly.

“You said you’re from twelve years in the future… you’ve lived twelve years like that?” Tsukauchi-san asked, horror in his voice.

“It’s not possible… I killed him. I killed All For One. I saw his brain come out of his skull,” Toshinori said desperately, pale as a sheet.

“I’m sorry, Toshinori. His doctor… I don’t know how, but he revived him. Though, you did weaken him quite a bit,” Izuku winces.

“Well! We would all like to prevent that, wouldn’t we?” Principal Nedzu chimes in, cheerily.

“Oh, really? Would we? You think maybe we would like that, you hyper-intelligent rat? Huh?” En taunts, heavily sarcastic.

“The problem with trying to prevent that is that we don’t want to screw things up so bad that we can no longer predict future events,” Kacchan grunted. “Otherwise, who knows. Things might even get worse.”

“So I think, no matter what, Kacchan and I will need some kind of valid hero license.”

“I see!”

“Underground would probably work best. We’ll need new hero names, too,” Kacchan pointed out.

“New hero names?” Izuku echoed. He hadn’t actually thought about it.

“Yeah. And you need to pick a quirk, nerd,” Kacchan growled, fixing Izuku with a piercing stare.

“Pick a quirk? You said he was quirkless; shouldn’t OFA be his only option?” Tsukauchi-san asked.

“Ah… about that. Um. Have you heard of the Quirk Singularity Doomsday Theory?”

Nedzu set down his teacup. “It’s a theory mostly adhered to by bigots and zealots—a fringe theory that claims that quirks will eventually become too powerful for the host to handle. Most of the scientific community dismisses it because, as quirks evolve, we have seen evidence that humanity evolves with them. Therefore, nobody should ever have a quirk that they cannot handle,” he explained.

“Why do you mention it?” Toshinori asked.

“Well, most quirk users my age are between fourth and seventh generation quirk users. I, personally, should have been a fifth generation quirk user. Kacchan is a sixth generation quirk user. But, well, I’m One for All’s ninth user… which makes it a ninth-generation quirk. Even though the Quirk Doomsday Theory doesn’t apply to normal situations, One for All is reaching singularity. What that means for me, is that the quirk has evolved to let me access the past user’s quirks. But… it also means that OFA can’t be passed down any more. The next user… giving this quirk to anyone else will kill them.”

A solemn silence enveloped the room as Principal Nedzu, Toshinori, and Tsukauchi-san digested that. Kacchan caught Izuku’s eye. His face asked, You good?

Izuku nodded back at him, grateful to have such a caring partner.

“I’m sorry to place this burden on you,” Yoichi said.

We’ve had this conversation before, Yoichi. I’d rather it be me than someone else, Izuku replied.

“Well, that’s…” Toshinori trailed off.

“Also, you already can’t give OFA to anyone who isn’t quirkless, because it will significantly shorten their lifespan,” Kacchan interjected.

Another short bout of awkward silence. Principal Nedzu was watching Toshinori. Toshinori’s eyes were wide with shock. Tsukauchi was staring resolutely at the wall.

“Interesting! However, the point of this brief lesson in applied quirk theory was to decide which quirk Midoriya-kun will be using for his prospective career as an underground hero. Midoriya-kun?” Principal Nedzu prompted.

“Hmm… I think…”

“I think my quirk, with its particular advantages, would be the one you want in order to do underground work,” Hikage piped up. Danger Sense would be useful.

“Excuse you? Underground heroes will need to hide. Obviously mine is best suited,” En shot back. Smokescreen could be useful, too...

“That’s a good sentiment, but underground heroes all need something to capture baddies with! My quirk is best for speed and capture!” Daigoro cheered. Well, Blackwhip wasn’t Izuku’s first choice for an underground-type quirk, but applied the right way...

“Deku?”

“I’m thinking!”

“I vote for Hikage,” Yoichi said, calmly.

“Woah, First is taking sides? No fair!” Daigoro bemoaned.

“Yoichi, please! Be reasonable,” En pleaded.

“Well, if it’s like that, I vote for Hikage as well,” Third said.

“You can’t vote for your own successor! That’s favoritism!” Daigoro shouted.

“Uh, Deku?”

“I vote for En!” Nana cheered. Nana!

“I’m going to use Float!” Izuku announced.

Dead silence for about two seconds.

Cacophony as Hikage, Daigoro, and En all protested at once. Izuku had found that, though they were all quite serious in serious situations, the three of them were quick to joke around once you got to know them. Daigoro was the worst about it, though. A side effect of this was that all were also very loud about their opinions.

Toshinori has said something. Possibly even asked Izuku a question? Izuku could not tell because Nana, Third, and Yoichi had joined in on the protesting.

Kacchan was waving a hand in front of Izuku’s face. Izuku glared at him. Kacchan raised one eyebrow.

Izuku could see Kacchan’s mouth move, but could not hear what he said.

“—meta-ability to watch your six—”

“Obviously he’s my favorite if—”

“—literally sense incoming shots—”

“Seven is fine but—”

“Why would you—”

“—completely unfair, one-hundred-percent biased—”

“—when smoke is—"

“—does not make it favoritism!”

“Everybody SHUT UP!” Izuku shouted.

Dead silence.

“... Nobody was saying anything,” Toshinori said, hesitantly.

“Sorry,” Izuku grimaced.

“You back with us, nerd?” Kacchan asked.

“Yeah. I want to use Float as my quirk for underground heroics. Not only can I use it to move quickly with minimal noise, but it will also look less suspicious when we register my quirk, because it could be seen as a stronger reversal of my mom’s quirk, Pull,” Izuku explained.

“Oh, that’s actually really thought-out,” Nana exclaimed.

Besides, Danger Sense is a passive quirk with no outward indicators of use. I can use both without suspicion, Izuku thought to the vestiges.

“You can actually use Float?” Toshinori asked, something fragile in his voice.

“Yeah.” Izuku gently floated a few centimeters above the floor to demonstrate. Toshinori took a deep breath, visibly forcing himself to keep it together.

“Interesting! I will make sure that is registered as your quirk. Though, I should register it under a different name, just in case,” Principal Nedzu said.

“Tch. I’m stuck with Explosion. At least it’s common enough for siblings to have near-identical quirks,” Kacchan mused. “Now that that’s sorted, though, we do need to pick hero names.”

“I’m worried about what you’re gonna pick,” Izuku admitted, teasingly.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Every hero name you’ve ever come up with yourself has had a reference to muder in it.”

“Oh, yeah? Maybe you should pick for me, then!” Kacchan challenged. Well. Izuku never could back down from one of Kacchan’s challenges, now could he?

Izuku took a step back and studied Kacchan.

“Hmm… names for underground heroes don’t typically reference their quirks, with some notable exceptions such as Eraserhead, who admitted to us in first year that he didn’t pick his hero name himself, anyway. However, underground heroes do have to be identifiable by their names, especially to other underground heroes and police. Typically they do this by referencing a gimmick that the hero uses to enhance their persona in order to separate their hero work from their daily life, especially in the cases where a hero who may become recognizable in the underground has a family they want to protect. Though, Kacchan and I are only doing this in order to fix the future, meaning we will likely not be focused on building families, and because of our younger selves’ determination to become spotlight heroes, our families are already resigned to the possibility of being put in danger due to our jobs… therefore, it would make the most sense to have our hero names reference a certain physical trait!”

“That’s nice, Deku, but none of that’s a name,” Kacchan taunted.

“I think...” Izuku decided. They were simply too captivating to ignore. “Your hero name should be... Ruby!”

Kacchan raised one eyebrow. “Ruby?” he echoed.

“For your eyes! They’ve always been striking, to me,” Izuku explained.

Kacchan flushed. Bright. Red.

“Well in that case, your hero name has to be Emerald!”

Izuku smiled. “I like it! Thank you, Kacchan!”

“Whatever! Shut up! Your eyes are striking too, y’know!”

“Aw, thanks!”

“Ruby and Emerald, hmm? Very nice! And will you be operating as a hero duo?” Principal Nedzu asked.

Izuku and Kacchan exchanged a quick look, identical sharp grins spreading on their faces. They turned back to the principal, and when they spoke, they spoke in unison.

“Of course!”

Chapter Text

Katsuki was stuck in that damn hallway with shitty Deku for thirty goddamn minutes. How much could they possibly need to talk about? How dare they drag him here and then kick him out? It was his future self in there! He deserved to be a part of this, damn it!

“Kacchan, calm down… I’m sure they’ll let us back in soon,” Deku said, placatingly.

“Well that’s easy for you to say, isn’t it! You’re used to being left out of things!” Katsuki spat at him. Deku flinched, then looked away. Dumbass.

Dumbass who was tearing up. That… may have been a bit too far.

Like hell would Katsuki admit that, though.

Oh, good, he already stopped.

“That was mean, Kacchan,” Deku whispered. It was loud in the silence of the hallway.

Katsuki didn’t respond.

Another few minutes passed. The door finally opened. The fucking skeleton was holding it open.

“You can come in now, boys,” he said. Katsuki muscled past him. Deku followed after him politely.

“Welcome back, brats,” Old Katsuki grinned.

“Don’t call them brats, Kacchan!” Old Deku chided. Old Deku was so weird. Katsuki couldn’t get over how… different he looked. It wasn’t that he was an adult, or that he was filthy, or even that he was dressed in a hero costume… it was something in his posture. Something Katsuki couldn’t quite place.

“I’ll call them whatever I want, Deku,” Old Katsuki groused.

“We’ve talked about everything we could that required you boys to be out of the room,” Trenchcoat explained. “But we would like the two of you to be here when we discuss family registry and living arrangements.”

“Speaking of the family registry! Though the two of you have chosen hero names, it would be beneficial for you to choose new given names!” the Rat said, cheerily. He gave Katsuki the creeps.

“You chose hero names?” Deku asked, stars in his eyes.

“Yep! But our old ones are secret, ‘kay? We want you to choose for yourselves, when the time comes,” Old Deku explained.

“And it turns out Bakusatsuo isn’t gonna cut it, so start brainstorming now, kid. Nothing with murder or kill in it, though,” Old Katsuki grumbled.

“WHAT?” Katsuki shrieked, outraged. Bakusatsuo was a fucking perfect hero name! It combined explosion and murder with the suffix for king in a brilliant twist of wordplay! He bet no other hero wannabees his age had anything half as clever!

“Yeah, it sucks. It wasn’t my call. Get over it,” Old Katsuki growled.

“We’re getting off topic, boys…” Skeleton said, hesitantly.

“Right!” Old Deku piped up. “Our given names! I think I’m going to choose Mikumo.”

“Mikumo?” Old Katsuki echoed. “Where’d that come from, nerd?”

“Mom said one time that she considered naming me that before she settled on Izuku. And it keeps the ku syllable. So. It’s almost like going back to an old prototype name!” Old Deku—Mikumo?—answered.

“And you, Bakugou-kun?” skeleton asked, addressing Old Katsuki.

“Hmm…” Old Katsuki narrowed his eyes, turning a scrutinizing gaze on Mikumo and looking him up and down. He paced a close circle around Mikumo.

“Uh, Kacchan…?” Mikumo trailed off.

“Heh.” Old Katsuki came to a stop. “My new name’s gonna be Katsuma!”

“Amazing, Kacchan! Just like—wait,” Mikumo stilled abruptly. “Wait, did you choose that name… specifically because you knew I wouldn’t be able to stop calling you Kacchan?”

“HAH?” Katsuki burst out, outraged. As if any version of him would ever make their decisions based on what shitty Deku could do!

“Maybe. Partly. It could be because I just like Katsuma, y’know,” Old Katsuki pouted. He fucking! Pouted! Like some kind of wimp! What the fuck happened in the future?

“Who’s Katsuma?” Deku asked.

“He’s a kid you’ll meet at some point in the future. We don’t get to know each other for very long, but he and his sister are really sweet!” Mikumo enthused.

“Yeah. So my new name is Katsuma,” Old Katsuki—now Katsuma—declared.

“Very well! I’ll make sure to add those names when I alter your family registries!” the rat principal enthused. “Now, about your living arrangements… I can find you an apartment, but you will need a temporary living space in the meantime. It’s possible for you to stay at UA, but if you have a different preference, now would be the time to say so.”

“We’ll stay at my folks’ place,” Katsuma interjected. “They have an empty guest room. They never use it—it shouldn’t be that big of a problem.”

“The hell! I have a problem with it, you fucker!” Katsuki shouted.

“Oh, yeah? Give me a reason that isn’t ‘I don’t want it’ and maybe I won’t dismiss you out-of-hand!” Katsuma fired back.

“Kacchan, don’t fight! You know that, uh… younger? Kacchan has trouble with his emotions!” Mikumo pleaded.

“Like hell! And I don’t need two of you fuckers calling me that kiddy nickname!” Katsuki protested.

“Is he always like this?” Trenchcoat asked Deku in a low tone.

“Pretty much,” Deku said. “That’s just Kacchan.”

“I heard that, dumbass!”

“Actually, nerd, baby-me has a point. We have new names, so we’re basically acknowledging that we’re already different from them. We might as well not call them by the same nicknames we call each other,” Katsuma agreed.

“Hmm. So, what, I call him… Katsuki?” Mikumo asked.

“Yes,” Katsuki said. “Call me Katsuki.”

“Okay! I can do that!” Mikumo agreed, easily. A wicked grin spread across Katsuma’s face.

“So, we call the two of you Katsuki and Izuku. But if we’re your older brothers, according to the family registry… you have to call us Katsuma-nii and Mikumo-nii,” he said.

“Kacchan!” Mikumo squealed, scandalized.

“What? I’m right.”

“Well! You boys are certainly spirited. Is it decided, then, that you’ll use the Bakugou family home as temporary housing until you’re settled?” Nedzu asked.

“Tch. Good as. We have to ask, but they’ll agree.”

“If it doesn’t work out, we’ll stay at UA, Principal Nedzu! If you’ll let us!” Mikumo asked.

“Of course, of course.”

Katsuki couldn’t believe it. There was no way that his parents would say no. He was going to be forced to put up with the two idiots from the future in his house.

“C’mon, Kacchan! We’ll have to catch the next train so we can ask your parents!”

This was torture.

Chapter Text

Yagi and Tsukauchi rode with Katsuma, Mikumo, Katsuki and Izuku back to their neighborhood. Nedzu stayed behind to do Nedzu-things, which Katsuma assumed boiled down to hacking the government. He sure as shit hadn’t mentioned anything about Katsuma and Mikumo altering the registry themselves.

Katsuma and Mikumo. The new names would take some getting used to, but Katsuma liked them. Besides, it was only fair. They were the interlopers—technically—so they should be the ones to change their names.

They had sorted out a training plan with Yagi for him to prepare Izuku to receive One for All when Katsuki and Izuku were still outside of Nedzu’s office. Everyone in there had agreed that Yagi needed to bring it up to the boys himself, but he hadn’t done that yet.

Even though riding the train in silence was getting awkward.

Luckily, though, Kastuma wasn’t some fuckin’ chump, so he didn’t mind a bit a bit of awkwardness. Unluckily, this meant that all six of them made it to their stop in total silence.

“House is this way,” Katsuma grunted, taking point to guide the group towards his old house. They would visit it first, since it was closer. Yagi and Tsukauchi wouldn’t know where it was, so he was being considerate.

“Ah, I’m nervous,” Mikumo said. “How are we going to explain this to your parents, Kacchan?”

“We’ll tell them the truth, obviously. We have Detective Lie Detector with us—it shouldn’t be that fuckin’ hard to make them take us seriously,” Katsuma pointed out.

“Still… Maybe we should let the kids go in first? That way they could explain some of it… or at least make it so that they can tell we’re really from the future!”

“You worry too much. It’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure Bakugou-kun is correct, Midoriya-kun. You shouldn’t stress about it,” Yagi said, consolingly. Something quietly devastated passed over Mikumo’s face when Yagi called him Midoriya-kun. Probably because it wasn’t any of the fond monikers Yagi usually used to refer to him.

That wasn’t something Katsuma could fix.

Not a problem for right now, anyway. They reached the right street.

“It’s this house, here. The beige one,” Katsuma pointed out.

“Here goes nothing,” Mikumo muttered.

“Whatever! We’ll go in first, and then the detective and the skeleton. You two have to stay outside so the hag doesn’t freak!” Katsuki demanded. Little shit. Unfortunately, he was right.

“Sounds great, Katsuki!” Mikumo cheered. Katsuki sneered at him. Asshole. He turned around and approached the house.

He threw the door open violently, storming inside.

“Oi! I’m home!” he hollered.

“BAKUGOU KATSUKI, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” the hag shouted back.

“It’s not my fault I’m home late!” Katsuki protested.

“Like hell it isn’t! I expected you home two hours ago! Where the fuck have you been?”

“If you’ll let me explain—”

“I called Inko, asking if you were over there, and she said Izuku-kun isn’t home either, and all he would say was that he was with you, and you weren’t answering your phone, and I was this close to calling to report you missing! What do you have to say for yourself?” she demanded.

“It wasn’t my fault! I got caught up in a quirk accident!” Katsuki yelled.

“It really wasn’t his fault, Auntie Mitsuki,” Izuku interjected. The hag softened at the sight of him.

“Oh, hello, Izuku-kun,” she said, amicably.

“Izuku is here?” gasped a voice from the kitchen. Auntie Inko came running into the living room to crush Izuku in a hug.

“Hey, mom,” he said, muffled in her shoulder.

“I was so worried! Oh, you boys better have a good explanation for this!”

“Sorry, mom.”

Tsukauchi cleared his throat. “If I may?”

“Who the hell are you?” the hag demanded.

“I’m Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa, with the Musutafu Police Department. Earlier today, your boys were involved in a quirk accident, through no fault of their own. I was called in to make sure that the situation was not an elaborate prank. My quirk, Lie Detector, is useful for issues like this,” he explained. Yagi stepped forwards and cleared his throat.

“My name is Yagi Toshinori. I was called in to consult on the issue, due to my experience with unusual situations. No two are exactly alike, but I work with the bureaucracy behind the scenes of issues like this one,” he introduced himself.

“What exactly… is the issue?” Auntie Inko asked. That was their cue.

“Hey, Auntie Inko,” Katsuma greeted, stepping through the door. “Hey, mom.”

“Hi, mom! Hi, Auntie Mitsuki! Sorry for worrying you…” Mikumo winced.

“Don’t apologize, we had a situation to handle!” Katsuma snapped.

“Of course, Kacchan,” Mikumo agreed.

“There’s… two of you?” Aunty Inko asked, looking from Izuku to Mikumo and back again. Katsuma’s mom was still staring, slack jawed.

3, 2, 1…

“What the FUCK?” she burst out. Tsukauchi and Yagi winced.

“Please, can we all discuss this in a civilized manner?” Yagi asked.

Katsuma’s old man came into the room from the kitchen. He did a double take, but didn’t say anything.

“Yes, please. If we could all take a seat, we’ll explain what happened,” Tsukauchi requested.

“It better be a good explanation!” the old hag snapped. She spotted the old man. “Masaru! Come here! Look at this!”

“I see it, dear. I’m just not sure what to say,” he replied, amicably. They all managed to situate themselves in the living room; Katsuma’s parents, Auntie Inko, and Katsuki on one couch, Tsukauchi and Yagi on the couch opposite them. Izuku hovered awkwardly behind his mom, who had grabbed his hand and wasn’t letting go. Katsuma and Mikumo elected to stand to one side, together.

“I’m sorry you weren’t alerted to the whereabouts of your children. That was an oversight on our part, and we would like to apologize for that,” Tsukauchi began. “Secondly, I would like to reiterate that, though they were involved, what happened was not their fault. There was nothing they could have done to prevent this.”

“This being…?” Auntie Inko prompted.

“Us, obviously. We appeared in front of them and fucked up their afternoon,” Katsuma interjected. Tsukauchi sighed.

“Well, in a nutshell, yes. This afternoon at about four PM I received a phone call on my personal number, from a number I didn’t recognize. I suspected a spam call, but I answered just in case. It was Midoriya Mikumo,” he began.

“Mikumo?” Auntie Inko asked.

“We picked new given names so we can be distinguished from our younger counterparts,” Mikumo explained. “Sorry for the confusion.”

“Right. Midoriya Mikumo called me and explained that he had been involved in a villain fight which ended in him being sent to the past; or rather, to the present, from the future. He knew that my quirk would be helpful in establishing that he was not lying about this, and asked that I meet with him at UA,” Tsukauchi continued. “As I was leaving the station, Yagi called me, explaining that he had also received a phone call from Midoriya-san and was directed to me for more information. I told him what I knew, and we went to UA together.”

“Why UA?” the hag asked, squinting at Katsuma and Mikumo.

“Short answer? Nedzu. We knew he’d help,” Katsuma explained. Mikumo beamed.

“When we arrived at UA, we were surprised to find that Midoriya-san was accompanied by Bakugou Katsuma, Bakugou Katsuki, and Midoriya Izuku. We didn’t know he had companions with him. Nevertheless, Principal Nedzu let us all into UA, and we talked over the problem,” Tsukauchi finished.

“What exactly did you discuss?” the old man asked.

“Well, the two from the future chose new hero names and new given names, and discussed with myself, Tsukauchi, and Nedzu plans to stop some upcoming tragedies. They requested the younger boys not be given any information on the future, so I’m afraid they were asked to stand in the hall for that part,” Yagi explained.

“Hero names, huh? What did you choose?” the old hag asked. She had a smile on like she already knew. Fuck her, she didn’t know shit.

“I’m Ruby,” Katsuma announced.

“And I’m Emerald!” Mikumo cheered.

“Ruby and Emerald?” Auntie Inko echoed.

“Well, they’re nice names. I’m not sure how popular you can get with a name like that, though…” the old man warned, warily.

“Tch! Does it look like I’m tryna get popular? Obviously we can’t change the timeline in the limelight, old man! Ruby is a great name for an underground hero!” Katsuma shouted.

“Underground, huh? I never would have guessed,” the old hag smiled. Katsuma sneered.

“Either way, the important part is helping them assimilate into the now. Principal Nedzu is working on changing the family registries and getting them the appropriate hero licenses’. However, housing will be harder. After Ruby and Emerald start working as underground heroes, they will each have a source of income. In between now and then, however, they don’t have anywhere to stay. Bakugou Katsuma claimed that you have a guest room. Would you be willing to house them temporarily?” Tsukauchi asked.

“We don’t need you asking for us!” Katsuma protested.

“Kacchan, calm down! What he means is: Auntie Mitsuki, Uncle Masaru, will you please let us use your guest room for a while?” Mikumo rephrased.

“Hmm… we only have one guest room…” the hag warned.

“Oh, but, we have a spare futon in the upstairs closet!” the old man remembered.

“Why would we need a spare futon?” Katsuma asked.

“Look, Kastu—Katsuma, I know that you probably haven’t lived here in a while, seeing as you are an adult, and everything, but the guest room only has one bed,” the hag explained, raising one eyebrow. That cleared up absolutely nothing.

“So?”

“So, one of you needs the futon!”

“Nothing you just said explains why one of us needs the futon!” Katsuma protested.

“What, do you want to share a bed with Izu—Mikumo-kun?”

“Why wouldn’t I want to?” Katsuma demanded. Mikumo started giggling. What was funny?

“Like hell would any version of me want to share a bed with Deku! What the fuck?” Katsuki burst out. Izuku was blushing heavily, trying to cover his face with the hand that wasn’t captured by Auntie Inko.

“Shut the hell up, asshole! What’s so weird about sharing a bed?”

“It’s not usually something done between friends once you become adults, Katsuma,” the old man said tentatively. Auntie Inko started giggling. Katsuma felt a lightbulb go off above his head.

“Wait, is that what you’re worried about?” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “I promise we won’t fuck while we’re staying in your guest room.”

“WHAT?” Katsuki shouted. Tsukauchi dropped his head in his hands. Mikumo burst into full-blown laughter. Izuku turned so red Katsuma was surprised steam wasn’t coming out of his ears.

“That is… not what I meant, actually,” the old man said, mildly. The old hag stared at them, speechless.

“Kacchan—Kacchan! Kacchan, they don’t—” Mikumo gasped through his laughter. “They don’t know that we’re—”

“OH! Shit, right,” Katsuma realized. He turned back to face the couch. “Mom, dad, Auntie Inko—Deku and I are engaged.”

“_What?” Izuku squeaked, faintly.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Katsuki hollered, full volume.

“Oh, congratulations!” Auntie Inko cheered, conquering her giggles to smile widely at them. Bless Auntie Inko. The only angel Katsuma knows.

“Engaged…” his old man echoed, weakly.

“ENGAGED?” the old hag echoed, screeching.

“Yeah, so we won’t have any problem sharing the bed,” Katsuma declared.

“You have such a one-track-mind sometimes, Kacchan!” Mikumo chided. He reached into the special pocket on the belt of his hero costume and pulled out his ring. “Here, look at the ring he got me!”

Oh. This was an acceptable detour in the conversation, actually; that ring was badass. A silver band, with four gemstones. A ruby and an emerald of the same size were set diagonally across the band in the center, with a smaller diamond set into the band at either side, bracketing them. The idea was that it represented them as twin stars, which was a name Yagi had come up with. On the inside of the band the phrase Save to Win was engraved.

“Oh, it’s beautiful, Mikumo!” Auntie Inko enthused.

“Hell yeah, it is,” Katsuma grinned. He opened the pocket on his belt and pulled out his ring, too. He held it out so the adults could see. “He went out and bought me a matching one.”

“Oh, wow,” the old man said, politely.

“He proposed about three months ago,” Mikumo enthused, eyes soft. “It was right after we won a big fight against an S-Class villain. It was amazing.”

“Y’know what? I think this is a good thing, actually,” the hag decided. “It’s a beautiful ring design, boys.”

“What’s the writing on the inside?” Auntie Inko asked. Mikumo held his ring out to her, and she took it from him delicately.

She ran her fingers reverently over the gemstones, and then turned the ring so she could read the engraving.

“Save to Win?”

“And win to save,” Katsuma and Mikumo said in unison.

“What the hell.” Katsuki dropped his head into his hands.

“Oh, do you guys have a catchphrase?” the old hag asked, perking up. Katsuma and Mikumo swapped looks.

“Kind of?” Mikumo volunteered. “It’s something that All Might taught us when we were at UA.”

Yagi coughed blood in surprise, quickly bringing out his handkerchief so as not to make a mess. Auntie Inko’s eyes went wide.

“Are you okay, Yagi-san?” she questioned gently. Mikumo carefully took his ring back.

“It’s a side effect of a pre-existing medical condition. I’m fine,” Yagi answered, waving her off.

“You’ve met All Might? Is he as cool as he is on TV? How does he get his hair to stand up like that? Does—” Izuku asked, rapid-fire.

“Shut up, Deku!” Katsuki snapped.

“Ah, but that does let me explain the second reason I’ve come here,” Yagi said.

“Second reason? You said you were only involved because you’re good at the paperwork for situations like these,” the hag pressed.

“Ah, yes. Well. I do have a second reason: I would like to train your boys.”

A pause. The hag raised an eyebrow and blatantly looked Yagi up-and-down, clearly finding him wanting. The old man and Auntie Inko made identical faces of concern.

“Train us in what?” Katsuki demanded.

“Train them how?” the hag interjected. “You’re a stick.”

“I would like to train them in heroics. If this situation has told us anything, it’s that these two boys will become magnificent heroes. I want to see that happen,” Yagi explained. He turned to face the hag head-on. “As for how I can train them? I have a variety of ways. I have experience in this.”

“What kind of experience?” the hag asked, skeptically. Yagi sent a look at Tsukauchi, who simply nodded back towards the other adults. Yagi sighed.

“I told you I am experienced with paperwork for strange situations; I did not tell you why. I work at Might Tower, in the Might Productions Secondary Clerical Office. I am the man in charge of handling All Might’s personal life,” Yagi explained. Katsuma was impressed. That was a hell of a good cover.

“You handle All Might’s personal life?” Izuku screeched. Katsuki looked faint.

Katsuma smirked. “Told you,” he told Katsuki. Katsuki didn’t seem to be listening, though. Shame.

“I’m pretty sure Toshi—UH—Yagi-san’s training is the only reason I passed the entrance exam, actually,” Mikumo volunteered.

“Yagi-san trained you, too?” Izuku asked, looking up at Mikumo with stars in his eyes. Adorable. Mikumo was still cute, but had his cheeks really been that round?

“He did! I’m very grateful for it,” Mikumo smiled. It was his I-am-here smile. Blinding.

“And you?” Katsuki asked, staring at Katsuma. Katsuma raised one eyebrow.

“Take a guess. No.”

“But now he’ll train both of you!” Mikumo enthused. “And you didn’t even have to be attacked by a villain first!”

Yagi blinked, then looked very concerned. Tsukauchi mirrored him.

“Wait, how did Yagi end up offering training to you?” he asked. Mikumo paled, then smiled sheepishly.

“Ah, well…”

Chapter Text

The next few days were strange ones. Izuku and his mom had gone home after the adults had gotten Mikumo and Katsuma settled. Mikumo’s story about how he had drawn Yagi-sensei’s attention was so scary! He was glad he didn’t have to do that. The day after, Izuku and Kacchan had met with Yagi-sensei, Mikumo, and Katsuma at Dagoba beach.

It was unpleasant. A beach turned trash dump had to be the worst smell in the world. Salty winds mixed with rusty metal, rotting wood, and other garbage scents? Gross.

And Izuku. Had to clean it all up. Kacchan was helping, but Kacchan also spent half the time there using the trash as impromptu targets for his explosions, which Yagi-sensei and Katsuma encouraged as future practice for precision targeting and rescue work.

Izuku wanted to do that sort of thing too—the sort of skill that was directly applicable to rescue work!—but Mikumo had pulled him aside one day to explain why he wasn’t doing that.

“It’s really, really important for you to build up some muscles first, okay?” Mikumo had explained. “Building musculature and a sturdy frame is the first step. Because of how quirk-centric society is, you don’t get much encouragement to actively work on bettering yourself like this. You’ve only ever seen people be encouraged to make use of their natural talents, so you honed your mind—which makes sense!—because that was what you had. But to be a hero, you’re going to need a lot more than smarts. Even the heroes who have smarts have the muscles and agility to enact the plans they make. Sometimes there’s nothing you can do to avoid a brawl. So don’t feel bad just because Katsuki is ahead of you—you’ll catch up.”

It had made Izuku feel… seen, for once. Understood. Which made sense, because Mikumo was literally himself from the future. He had been through the same thing! Taken all the same actions! Cleaned this beach, even!

Whenever Izuku was taking a break from cleaning the beach (for water or food or to talk about workouts and schedules) he watched Mikumo and Katsuma. He hadn’t observed much about them on that first day, because there was so much happening so fast. He got swept up in it. But now that things had calmed down, he could categorize all the ways they were different from him and Kacchan.

Obviously, Katsuma was different from Kacchan. Izuku had noted when he showed up that he was willing to back down on Mikumo’s word. That he was strangely non-hostile. This was explained when it was revealed that he and Mikumo were engaged, as improbable as it sounded. Izuku couldn’t imagine Kacchan falling in love with him. Or himself falling in love with Kacchan! He liked girls!

He… was trying not to think about that too hard. More research was needed before he would be ready to analyze that. Anyway.

Katsuma was taller than Mikumo. Katsuma and Mikumo both had their ears pierced, but only Katsuma had double piercings. Kacchan scowled all the time, like he was scared that if he was seen enjoying something other than violence that he would be judged as weak. Katsuma laughed at Izuku and Kacchan’s mistakes and made fun of Mikumo in a way that made them both laugh and let Mikumo make fun of him and laughed openly and smiled fondly and scowled playfully. He had a resting angry face that was largely neutral and only scowled for real if he disagreed with something Kacchan said. It was strange. Kacchan would grow into this? It seemed… completely ridiculous. Katsuma was obviously the same person Kacchan was, at his core, but the changes he had undergone on the surface made him seem totally alien.

Mikumo was totally alien in different ways. He spoke loudly, and with confidence. He didn’t mumble as much, and when he did and Katsuma had to cut him off, he didn’t blush or get embarrassed. He made fun of Katsuma. He stuttered on Yagi-sensei’s name every time he said it, clearly used to a more familiar relationship with the man. He laughed when Kacchan insulted him. He sought affection from Katsuma fearlessly, and it was given to him easily. He didn’t even duck his head when Katsuma chastised him for recklessness, which was something that would have made Izuku want to melt into the ground. He smiled at Izuku like the two of them were in on a secret nobody else knew.

His pupils were white. That was one thing about Mikumo that didn’t make sense. Izuku’s pupils weren’t white. He couldn’t find any medical condition that would make the pupil of your eye turn white. Maybe it was a result of a quirk that had been used against him, once?

Izuku couldn’t find the courage to ask.

Katsuma and Mikumo weren’t at Dagoba every night after school the way Yagi-sensei was. Sometimes they would stay the entire time. Sometimes they would stay for about half the time, and then rush off. Sometimes they would come only for the last half, hair still wet from showering. Sometimes they only dropped by in minutes-long intervals, greeting them and checking up before rushing away again. Sometimes they didn’t show up at all.

Izuku noted this out loud one day, and Kacchan scowled at him.

“They’re underground heroes, dumbass! Their patrols don’t always start at the same time each night. Sometimes they’re busy,” he growled. It was nice of him to explain.

“Are they still living at your house, Kacchan?” Izuku asked.

“Obviously! I can’t wait until those pains-in-the-ass are out of my hair!” Kacchan shouted. Huh. Izuku thought they might have moved out by now. At this point, it was about two weeks since Katsuma and Mikumo had shown up.

It was surreal to think that a hero version of himself from the future was running around after dark, stopping villains and saving people.

Izuku wondered about the rings, sometimes. About what was engraved on them. Something that All Might had told them, Mikumo had explained. Save to win and win to save. He hadn’t explained why that specific phrase was important enough to be engraved on the inside of their wedding bands, though. And why split it in half?

Mostly, though, Izuku was excited. A version of him from the future had shown up in front of him. In the future, he would be a hero. How many people could say that with such certainty? He wouldn’t be just any hero, either. He would be the Symbol of Hope. That was crazy! That was unbelievable! Quirkless Deku would grow up to be the Symbol of Hope!

A version of Kacchan from the future had told him of course you can become a hero! Without a quirk! Future Kacchan!

That had been amazing. Maybe if Izuku asked really nicely, Katsuma would say it again.

The weird part had been that Mikumo hesitated. Mikumo was him from the future in a hero costume. Maybe he had hesitated because he thought the answer was so obvious it didn’t need saying?

Ugh. Izuku would talk himself in circles about this. He just couldn’t believe how crazy his life had gotten! His future self showed up with his future fiance and then got him hero training in the form of the man who handled All Might’s personal affairs! That was mega cool!

Yagi-sensei was nice, too. Even though he had to help Kacchan more, to make sure he didn’t hurt himself by accidentally knocking anything down or exploding anything he shouldn’t, Izuku never felt like he was being neglected. Yagi-sensei was very good about calling out encouragement as he worked, and giving advice when he started to become confused, and showing him different ways to lift things that would exercise different muscle groups. He also took lots of photos, for some reason.

Izuku had never had a teacher devote so much time and energy into helping him, personally. It made him feel strange inside. Warm and fuzzy, but there was also some kind of pulling sensation that seemed to try and drag his chest into his gut. Izuku didn’t like the pulling.

And yet, every time Yagi-sensei turned that smile on him, that bad sensation disappeared.

Chapter Text

Principal Nedzu contacted Mikumo and Kacchan three days after they spoke to him at UA. Their family registries were fixed. Their hero licenses would be in the mail that day. Mikumo didn’t want to know what Principal Nedzu had done, but according to the email, the HPSC (which paid freelance underground heroes like Eraserhead, and now the Gemstone duo, Ruby and Emerald) would treat them just the same as any other underground heroes. They had hero costumes waiting for them at HSPC headquarters.

It meant that the rough plans they had discussed about each member of the League of Villains could start being implemented that night.

“Hell yes,” Kacchan smiled wide and sharp. Anticipatory.

“This will be amazing!” Mikumo cheered.

“Yeah it will, nerd. Now. What do we do first?” Kacchan asked. Mikumo cocked his head questioningly. Katsuma rolled his eyes in response. “Who are we saving first?”

“Oh! Uh, I was thinking about that. Toga Himiko is only a year older than us, right?”

“You would know better than me.”

“Right. So, this is the year she graduates middle school. Which gives us about five months before she snaps and stabs her classmate, kicking off a string of serial killings via bloodletting that eventually lead her to join the League,” Mikumo explained. Kacchan huffed, falling backwards onto the bed.

“So what do we do about it?” he pressed.

“Toga… all she needs is a loving home.”

“Haah?”

“It was all over the news when this first happened, Kacchan. They interviewed her classmates, of course, but also her parents. They called her a demon child on national television,” Mikumo spit. He could hear his voice harden into the familiar tone he used when he was passionate about something unjust.

“That’s wrong,” Nana asserted.

“What the hell?”

“Right?” Mikumo exclaimed. “Her quirk, Transform, well, you know what it does. But the admiration for blood she has is a side effect that’s built into her quirk, likely to combat the regular human instinct to be repulsed by blood and allow her to use her quirk in the first place. The only problem is that she was being forced to suppress her quirk 24/7, at school, at home, in public—there was nowhere she felt safe! Of course she snapped!”

“That’s fucked. And hella discriminatory. What can we do?” Kacchan could always be counted on to ask the right questions.

“Well, those Hero Licenses’ coming in the mail today have a built-in emergency fostering license. So…”

Mikumo explained the plan.

The Toga family lived in a nice house. Kacchan pressed the button on the buzzer. It crackled to life a few moments later.

“Hello?” asked a female voice, presumably the mother of Toga Himiko.

“Is this the Toga residence?” Kacchan asked, redundantly. The door sign clearly stated their name.

“Yes, it is. Why?”

“My name is Ruby. I’m here with my partner, Emerald. We’re underground heroes. We have reason to suspect that Toga Himiko is connected with a crime we’re investigating,” Katsuma lied. Only Mikumo could see the slight twitching of his eyebrows that gave away his rage. Over the years, Kacchan had become very adept at disguising his emotions to get the drop on villains.

“Oh, god!” Toga-san exclaimed. “Yes, come in.”

“That seemed a little too easy…” Hikage muttered.

The buzzer shut off. Mikumo and Kacchan met eyes. Mikumo stepped forwards to open the gate. They made their way through the yard and into the house.

Toga-san greeted them at the door. “Welcome in!”

“Pardon the intrusion,” Mikumo said, politely.

“Come in, come in! We can sit down in the living room.” Toga-san led them to a stylish living area where her husband and daughter were already waiting. Mikumo was almost impressed.

“This won’t take long,” Kacchan said gruffly, declining to sit. “We have reason to believe that Toga Himiko was involved with a crime that we are investigating, either as a suspect or a witness. Either way, I’m invoking my emergency foster license, as is my right as a Pro Hero, and taking her into protective custody immediately.”

Toga Himiko’s face fell.

“A crime?” her father gasped. Her mothers eyes went wide, and then she buried her face in her hands.

“They don’t even doubt it?” Second asked, offended on Toga Himiko’s behalf.

“She’s not going to jail, or anything!” Mikumo hurriedly assured. “But we think she may be in danger, so we’re taking her into protective custody. It’s to save her life.”

It was strange, seeing Toga Himiko as a kid again. She was so young. Mikumo hadn’t really realized how young they had all been, back at the start.

“Oh, Izuku. You have no idea,” Yoichi murmured.

Toga Himiko was silent as they made the rest of their excuses to her parents, who didn’t seem to have as much of an issue with letting Toga Himiko go as Mikumo had expected. They sent her upstairs to pack a bag.

Finally, they were out of that house with Toga Himiko in tow.

“First things first, kid. How do you want us to address you?” Kacchan asked.

“Toga-kun is fine,” Toga-kun answered.

“Alright!” Mikumo cheered. “Second things second, we made up the crime allegations!”

“You… what?”

“We made it up. Or, rather, we exaggerated them. You have been a witness to a crime. Child abuse is a crime,” Kacchan explained. Toga-kun stopped in her tracks.

“What? I’m not… abused. I’m normal,” she said. Her voice sounded flat. Nothing like the Toga that Mikumo was familiar with.

“BULLSHIT!” Hikage, Daigoro, and En hollered in unison.

“Hmm, let's put it this way… are your parents nice to you?” Mikumo asked.

“Yes.”

“Okay, nice, whatever. Do you want to stay with them?” Kacchan interjected.

Her silence was telling.

“Do you ever daydream about running away, Toga-kun?” Mikumo pressed.

“Maybe,” Toga-kun admitted.

“Oof, mood,” Yoichi said.

“You want to run away from us?” Third asked, deeply upset.

“Not you guys, idiot. My brother.”

“Right, and then what? Sleep on the streets?” Kacchan scoffed. “Nah, fuck that. We’re getting you better parents.”

“That won’t work,” Toga-kun asserted suddenly. “Nobody will like me if I can’t act normal, and I can’t always be normal around my parents. It’s too hard. I want… I want…”

“What do you want?” Mikumo asked, gently.

“I want blood!” Toga-kun shouted. “My quirk lets me transform into anyone I drink the blood of. It’s why I can’t be normal! I want blood, I want blood… it just looks so pretty and I want to taste it and I see a pretty person and I can barely stop myself, sometimes… I want to taste them, I want to be them! I want to be them!”

“Okay,” Mikumo said, easily. It seemed to take the wind out of Toga-kun’s sails.

“Okay?” she echoed.

“Aw, poor thing,” Nana cooed.

“Yeah, okay,” Kacchan repeated. “Sounds to me like a quirk-induced urge. There are papers on things like that. It’s built into your Plus Alpha, so you don’t have to spend years trying to figure out what your quirk is. It’s what helps you use it instinctively.”

“That's… a thing?”

“Yeah! So there’s nothing wrong with you, Toga-kun! You’ve been normal this whole time,” Mikumo explained, smiling wide. Baby Toga-kun was such a sweetheart! He couldn’t believe her own parents made her feel bad for a natural part of her quirk!

They walked on in silence for a minute. Toga-kun had a thoughtful face on. Mikumo knew she probably just needed some time to let what they had told her sink in.

“Just asking… how did your parents not know this? Don’t they have quirks similar to yours?” Kacchan inquired, breaking the silence.

“Oh! Well, not quite. Dad’s quirk is that he can perfectly replicate the recipe of any dish he’s eaten before. Mom’s quirk lets her transform her fingers into different tools, like a hammer or a screwdriver. I got a quirk that’s a mix of both, I guess!” Toga-kun explained. Now that they had told her that they didn’t think there was anything wrong with her, her voice wasn’t quite as flat. She seemed a little lighter.

Good.

“So, if you wanted to get me new parents, are you guys my new parents?” Toga-kun asked. Mikumo tripped over his own feet. Kacchan’s posture shot to perfectly-straight.

“WHAT?” he roared.

“Please wait before giving us any grandchildren, Izuku!” Nana chimed in brightly. The rest of the vestiges laughed in the background.

“Us? What? Ha ha, no… why would you! Uh-uh, no way!” Mikumo stuttered. Toga-kun’s shoulders slumped.

“Oh,” she said. “Okay… I guess…”

“It’s not that we wouldn’t like to take you in, Toga-kun!” Mikumo hurriedly assured, waving his hands through the air. “But we’re only ten years older than you! We’re not ready for kids!”

“Oh!” Toga-kun said, brightly. “Okay! So who will I be staying with?”

Uh-oh.

“You didn’t think this part through?” Second scoffed.

“Leave them be, they had other priorities,” En audibly rolled his eyes.

“Uh…” Kacchan said, face going blank.

Right. So. They had gotten Toga-kun out. Now where did she go?

“Hmm… maybe to someone with a similar quirk? Y’know anyone like that?” Daigoro suggested.

“You… have new parents lined up for me, right?” Toga-kun asked.

“You must know someone with a blood-based quirk. They’re not that uncommon anymore,” Third mused.

“Vlad King!” Mikumo blurted. Kacchan blinked at him.

“Vlad King?” he echoed.

“Why not? They both have blood-based quirks, and Vlad King’s actually lets him remove and harden his blood—which makes him perfect to handle Toga-kun’s quirk! He could pre-make her snacks!” Mikumo explained.

“Huh. That could work,” Kacchan mused. Toga-kun jumped up and punched the air.

“Yeah! Let’s go get a new dad!” she cheered.

“No,” Vlad King said, scowling.

“What? You didn’t even let us finish!” Kacchan protested.

“No. I’m a Pro Hero and a teacher on top of that. I don’t have the time to look after a teenager.”

“But, Vlad King, sir—”

“No. Final answer.” He slammed the door.

Toga-kun wilted.

“What an asshole,” Nana seethed, full of rage.

“Well, that flopped,” Kacchan sighed, dragging both hands down his face. “We can’t force him. That wouldn’t work out, would it.”

“No,” Mikumo agreed. “And it’s getting dark. We can’t be parent-hunting and dragging a teenage girl around at all hours of the night.”

“That sounds fun!” Toga-kun interjected.

“What’s wrong with being up at all hours of the night?” En asked. Nobody answered.

“Well, what do you want to do? Bring her home with us?” Kacchan asked, obviously intending it to be a sarcastic, rhetorical question.

Mikumo thought that was a great idea.

“That’s a great idea, Kacchan!” he enthused. “Your mom mentioned owning a spare futon, right? She can stay with us for tonight, and we’ll find her new parents in the morning!”

“What,” Kacchan asked flatly.

“WHAT?” Kacchan roared.

“Well, I don’t see why not!” Auntie Mitsuki hollered back at him.

“I only explained her situation so you’d know why she has to stay the night!” Kacchan complained.

“And I don’t see any reason it should stop with one night!” Auntie Mitsuki fired back. Toga-kun’s shining eyes bounced between Auntie Mitsuki and Kacchan like she was watching a tennis match.

“You don’t even know her,” Kacchan protested.

“Then I’ll get to know her!” Auntie Mitsuki insisted. Uncle Masaru laughed softly from where he was seated on the couch.

“Katsuma, let your mother have this. She always wanted a girl,” Uncle Masaru interjected, sounding somehow both stern and wistful.

“Yeah, brat! Listen to your father!”

Mikumo walked into the kitchen the next morning to discover that the whole Bakugou family was already awake. Kacchan was sulking over his breakfast at the kitchen table, Auntie Mitsuki was grabbing some milk out of the fridge, Uncle Masaru was cooking more eggs at the stove, Auntie Mitsuki was looking through the spice cabinet, and Katsuki was eating his breakfast in the chair across from Kacchan.

Mikumo blinked hard and looked again.

“No, you’re seeing that right,” Nana assured him.

There were two Auntie Mitsuki’s in the kitchen. The one holding a milk carton looked up and met his eyes, and then broke into a bright, beaming grin.

“Look what my new mom let me do!” she squealed.

“That’s great, Toga-kun!”

“Who?” Uncle Masaru prompted.

“I’m Bakugou Himiko now! But since you’re engaged to my new onii-chan, you should call me nee-chan!”

Mikumo scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “What if I call you Himiko-chan?” he counter-proposed. Himiko-chan gasped with delight.

“Yes, please! It’s not as good as nee-chan, but I really like it!” she enthused. Mikumo smiled, relieved.

“I’m glad,” he said.

Entering the kitchen, he got his plate of eggs from Uncle Masaru, and sat down at the table next to Kacchan. It was quiet for once, and he was eating good food next to his wonderful fiance, surrounded by his family. Despite the new addition, or maybe because of her, it was a happy and peaceful morning.

Chapter Text

Himiko settled into the house easily. At least Katsuki wasn’t kicking up a fuss about it, that brat. After learning that Katsuma and Mikumo were engaged, he seemed to just resign himself to whatever was happening and started focusing on his training with Yagi instead.

Katsuma predicted that Katsuki just didn’t want to acknowledge that he was now the baby of the family. Nothing like gaining two new siblings to tire out a guy’s ego.

Katsuma was fucking loving it. He was the big brother! The onii-chan! Himiko calling him that for the first time, that same night they had brought her back to his family, had startled him. It was a title that Eri had taken to bestowing upon everyone in Class A, so it was strange to hear someone else call him that. It still came with that same sense of pride and love, though. It was nice.

Ugh. Gross. He couldn’t believe he was getting sentimental about Himiko of all people. At least she wasn’t a villain yet. These are feelings you’re supposed to have towards a little sister.

Mikumo plopped down next to him on the couch, holding a tablet.

“What do you think of this one?” he asked. Katsuma took the tablet from Mikumo and looked at what was pulled up onscreen. It was another apartment listing. He took a moment to read it over.

“Looks good to me. If you like it too, we should schedule a viewing,” Katsuma answered, passing the tablet back.

“Hmm. Okay,” Mikumo agreed. He leaned against Katsuma, resting his head on Katsuma’s shoulder. “That’ll be the third viewing we have scheduled, then.”

“Sounds good to me,” Katsuma murmured. They had had a late patrol last night. It was a lazy morning, even if it was nearly noon. Katsuma knew he was going to have to get up and eat and train some, soon, but he deserved to be lazy on the couch with his fiance.

“OI! KATSUMA! MIKUMO!” the hag shouted from her office. Katsuma grunted.

“What does she want?” Mikumo asked, softly. He had made himself comfortable on Katsuma’s shoulder and clearly did not want to get up.

Luckily, he didn’t have to, because Katsuma’s mom rushed into the room and crashed down on the couch across from them.

“Does what I have written down here match what you found at her house?” she asked, shoving a bundle of papers towards them.

Mikumo reluctantly sat up and took the papers from her, but he settled against Katsuma’s shoulder again too quickly for Katsuma to become upset about him leaving. He read the papers from over Mikumo’s head, instead.

“Are these the adoption papers? How did you get these filled out so quickly? It’s only been two days,” Mikumo asked.

“Eh, I just had to dig ‘em out from the filing cabinet in Masaru’s office,” she answered flippantly.

“Why the hell did you have adoption papers on standby like that?”

“These are adoption in absence of guardian papers! That’s so specific, why would you have those?” Mikumo asked, sounding a little distressed.

“Convenient for us,” Katsuma muttered.

“Oh! Well, we made sure to get those after your father disappeared, Mikumo!” the hag explained, brightly. “We were thinking about asking Inko to date us, so we wanted to be prepared! I don’t think Inko ever realized we were flirting with her, though, so it didn’t really work out.”

“... my mom?” Mikumo croaked, stiffening where he leaned against Katsuma. Katsuma’s mom looked back and forth between the two heroes’ shocked faces.

“Well, I suppose it worked out for the two of you, anyway! It would be kind of bad to be engaged to your brother, huh?” she mused aloud.

Mikumo paled dramatically. “Right, but that never happened, right? So we’re fine, it’s all fine, nothing here is weird—we’re all good!” he rambled erratically.

“Right, right, don’t worry! Ha ha, Mikumo-kun, you’ve always been such an easy tease. This was a decade ago! Loosen up, it never came close to happening,” the hag waved her hands through the air, dismissing the conversation.

“Well, um, other than concerns about where you got these papers, they look to all be in order,” Mikumo said, visibly regathering himself and flipping through the adoption papers.

“Great!” the hag cheered, standing up and grabbing the papers away from Mikumo. “I’ll get these filed in the right places, then!”

“That would be great, thanks,” Katsuma grunted. He slung an arm over Mikumo’s shoulders to pull him closer. His mom gave him a smug look as she left the room.

“By now, Stain has been active as the hero killer for about one year,” Mikumo explained, waving a campos notebook in the air. He opened it to a page near the beginning, stabbing his finger at it. “He targets three ‘fake’ heroes in each city before moving to the next. The hard part is telling which city he’ll go to next, because, probably to throw off anyone tracking him the way we are, he never just goes to the next city. It’s always far away.”

“Well, he’s not an idiot. Who defeated him last time, Endeavor? Tch. We’re way better than Endeavor,” Katsuma scoffed.

“Uh… about that…”

“Yeah?”

“Endeavor wasn’t even there, Kacchan,” Mikumo said delicately, setting his notebook down on the coffee table.

“The hell are you talking about? It was all over the news—he rescued you, Tenya, and Shouto from Stain. In class the next week everyone was bugging you about it.”

“Right! Which is how I know Endeavor wasn’t there.”

Katsuma scrubbed a hand through his hair, sighed, and gave Mikumo a look. Mikumo squeaked.

“Right, so, actually, you remember how Ingenium the First was crippled by Stain? Tenya-kun might have, uh, tracked him down to try and kill him as revenge for that.”

“Tenya did that?” Holy fuck. Class prez? The most responsible hero he knew?

“Uh. Yeah. And I maybe suspected that he was planning on that based on where he chose to do his internship? And then, uh, when I found them Tenya was paralyzed so I sent out my phone location but only Shouto was in the area and then I got paralyzed and then he decided I was a ‘true hero’ so he was gonna spare me and he was going to kill Tenya and Shouto showed up just in time and blasted him away with fire and we fought and then Tenya kicked him in the face at the same time I punched him and he passed out and then some pros and sidekicks that weren’t having any luck fighting the nomu arrived because they had been sent by Endeavor because Shouto gave him the address when he ran to find us except they couldn’t do anything and then I got picked up by a winged nomu and Stain woke up and broke out of his binds and managed to paralyze and kill it and then we fell to the ground and his declaration that was caught on camera and went viral happened and then he passed out standing up and the pros arrested him.”

“You’re mumbling, Mikumo,” Katsuma said fondly, reaching out to flick him on the forehead. Deku made a show of pouting, but then he looked at him with those big starry eyes. Fuck. He couldn’t focus on how cute the nerd was right now, he had to focus on Stain!

“Right. Anyway, that’s what happened. The Endeavor thing was a cover story because they didn’t want to have to punish us for taking down a serial killer on the same night that Hosu was attacked by three nomu? But we didn’t have our licenses yet, so legally they would have had to? Honestly, it’s a miracle that they bothered to cover it up at all after Todoroki tried to fight the Chief of Police,” Mikumo bemoaned, burying his face in his hands.

This fucking idiot helped take down a serial killer before he even had his provisional license. On purpose. If it wasn’t about seven years too late, Katsuma would fuck him up.

“Right,” Katsuma managed, reigning in the reflexive anger. “When we talked to Nedzu, we established that we have to take down Stain without his message getting out this time, because we know he directly inspired Toga, Dabi, and Spinner to join the League.”

“I think Magne might have been inspired by him too, but I don’t know much about her. She disappeared at some point and was never seen again. I think she might have died.”

“There anything we can do to save her?”

Mikumo sighed heavily, leaning back against the couch. “No. She was already a villain before joining the League. I looked her up after the training camp incident. Nine armed robberies, three murders, and a bunch of attempted murders, too. She won’t be open to us, and I don’t know enough about her to find her, anyway.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. Either way, we need to find Stain. Maybe then the League will be a little less dangerous. We’ve already saved Himiko-chan, after all.”

“Fuck yeah we did. Okay, what do you have?”

Mikumo opened his notebook, and they got to work.

Two days later, they had their lead. It had hit the news just hours earlier: the Pro Hero Dynamo (quirk: Dynamometer, best known for his close work with the police where he used his speed-predicting quirk to project the trajectory of car chases), had been killed by the Hero Killer Stain just hours earlier. If Mikumo’s analysis of him was correct, which it was, then the Gemstone Duo would be dropping in on Stain shortly.

First, though, they had to say goodbye to the brats at Dagobah beach.

“You missed a spot,” Katsuma heckled, pointing out the last piece of trash keeping this particular tower upright.

“You missed a spot,” Katsuki echoed angrily, blasting the trash away and quickly taking flight before the pile could collapse on top of him.

“Do you have to go?” Izuku’s voice came from over the next trash pile.

“This isn’t the first time we’ve left Dagobah to go on patrol, y’know! I promise we’ll be fine,” Mikumo assured him.

“What?” Katsuki barked, taking in the look on Katsuma’s face.

“Nothing, brat. We’re going on patrol soon—Izuku seems upset about it,” Katsuma explained, absently.

“Tch,” Katsuki kicked the sand, making it spray up in an arc of white rock and shattered bits of plastic. “Now that we, like, personally know actual heroes, or whatever, he’s been getting really worried any time the hero killer hits the news. He’ll be all jittery in class the day after the news hits.”

Katsuma felt his eyebrows pinch. “He shouldn’t be worrying like that.”

“Why the fuck do you care what he worries about?” Katsuki spit, letting another explosion out to break a washing machine into smaller parts.

“You need to be nicer to him. He grows up to be a great hero. He’s way stronger than you think he is.”

“Fuck off.”

“Kacchan!” Mikumo called, jogging over to them. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Please be careful!” Izuku begged, following after Mikumo. “The Hero Killer got someone again, so just—please be careful on patrol tonight!”

“Tch. Hero Killer’s a scrub, kid,” Katsuma scoffed, reaching over to ruffle Izuku’s hair. “He won’t be able to touch us.”

“R-right. Okay,” Izuku agreed, taking a deep breath.

“Okay,” Mikumo repeated, smiling faintly. Katsuki scoffed and stomped away.

Katsuma scanned the beach, locating Yagi. “YAGI, WE’RE GOING NOW,” he hollered. Yagi waved back.

“Let’s go, then!” Mikumo cheered. One last hug for each of them, from Izuku, and they were off.

Katsuma stared down at Stain from his perch on the rooftop. He was moving through back alleys, but where he was coming from or going to was a mystery.

This one, though. This was where the fight would happen.

Katsuma dropped down from the rooftop, landing lightly, with barely a sound. He ducked to avoid the sword Stain had thrown, then looked back up to catch Stain’s eyes and glare.

Mikumo dropped down behind him, using Float to move completely silently. Stain didn’t notice him, keeping his gaze on Katsuma. Good, all according to plan, so far. Katsuma kept his eyes locked with Stain’s as he took a deliberate, telegraphed step forward.

Mikumo drifted forwards slowly, using Float to keep himself silent.

“Stain.”

“And who are you?”

“You can call me Ruby. I’m an underground hero.”

Stain’s eyes narrowed. “You think you are worthy of the title Hero? And yet you seek me out—why?”

“Because, as a hero, I want to keep people safe. Sometimes, that means taking murderers off the street,” Katsuma replied, intensifying his glare. Stain scoffed.

“Dynamo deserved to die. The HPSC covered it up, but he was a murderer, as well! Excessive force on a shoplifter! The child of that dead woman tracked me down and told me what Dynamo did! I only acted to ensure justice!” Stain shouted. Katsuma ducked under another flying blade, then leapt immediately upwards, boosting his height with one explosion to propel him off the ground and one explosion to burn Stain’s face.

He landed about a meter back from where he had been standing before, hands up in a defensive position.

“I couldn’t care less about Dynamo,” Katsuki growled out. He felt a smile slip over his lips. “But you should watch your back.”

As Katsuma said that, Mikumo abruptly upped the force he was putting into Float, accelerating up to be too fast to track. He kicked Stain in the head.

No matter how tenacious Stain had already been or would become, he was still susceptible to good-old physics. He went down hard, and didn’t get back up.

“Make sure to restrain him thoroughly and get all of his knives. Last time, we left one he had hidden up his sleeve, and he escaped his bindings,” Mikumo advised. Katsuma grunted in acknowledgement, then kneeled beside Stain’s body to handcuff him.

After a way-too-interesting de-knifing of the criminal, they finally got to hand him over to the fuckin’ police.

Chapter Text

Izuku was pretty sure that he was starting to grow muscles. About two weeks of beach training, on top of the diet plan and the little exercises that he could fit in at school, and he was finally starting to see a noticeable difference.

He was proud of it, but he knew he still had a long way to go. Like Mikumo said, he would need lots of muscles to be a hero! It took brains and brawn.

He was trying to shift an old, rusted out oven under Yagi-sensei’s careful gaze. His work gloves were starting to turn red from rust stains.

Katsuma and Katsuki were at a nearby trash pile, working on something Katsuma had referred to as “minimum applied force”. From what Izuku could gather, it was a lesson about how to be more efficient by making his explosions smaller. That was fascinating! If you prioritized precision over force it would make it a lot easier to work in areas with a high density of civilians, because once precision is natural, you wouldn’t have to worry as much about accidentally hurting civilians! This wouldn’t just apply to Kacchan’s rescue maneuvers, but also if he used his explosions to fly over a crowd, apprehending villains nonlethally, all sorts of things!

Mikumo was standing on the stairs about twenty meters away, alternating between reading something on his phone (case files, maybe?) and watching Kacchan and Izuku train.

That was when it happened. An explosion, too big for what they were attempting, sent metal debris flying through the air, straight at Izuku and Yagi-sensei. Izuku couldn’t move! There wasn’t time to get out of the way, him and Yagi-sensei would be hit—

In a blink, he was next to Yagi-sensei, hovering in the air above Kacchan and Katsuma. An arm was wrapped around his waist, covered in dark green cloth. So dark it was almost black.

The dark green on Mikumo’s hero costume.

They were slowly lowered to the ground. How?

Mikumo was… Mikumo was…

“Damnit, Katsuki! If you can’t watch your force, at least watch your angle!” Katsuma was yelling. “You almost hit Izuku and Yagi with that scrap! That could’ve really fucking hurt them, y’know!”

Kacchan wasn’t listening. He was staring at Mikumo, who was standing behind Izuku. Izuku turned around to stare at them too.

“That was… impressive, Midoriya-kun,” Yagi-sensei said.

“Are you both okay?” Mikumo asked, worriedly.

“We’re fine, Midoriya-kun. You got us out of the way in time.”

“You flew.” Izuku didn’t even realize he had said that out loud until Mikumo’s worried gaze was turned on him. He gathered his courage despite the tears he could feel forming in his eyes. “How did you do that?”

“He did fly,” Kacchan growled. He stomped forward and grabbed a hold of Izuku’s t-shirt. “Have you been hiding a quirk from me, Deku? You trying to prove a point, or something? You think you’re better, not even needing to use your quirk to become a hero like the rest of us? How dare—” Kacchan was cut off by Katsuma placing his hand over his mouth.

“He’s not looking down at you, dumbass. He really doesn’t have a quirk,” Katsuma said, releasing Kacchan. Kacchan released Izuku’s shirt to stab a finger towards Mikumo.

“Then how the hell do you explain that?” he shouted.

Mikumo sighed. “Yagi-san, you didn’t tell them?”

“Well…” Yagi-sensei trailed off, hunching his shoulders.

“Do they even know what they’re training to be?” Katsuma demanded.

“The next Symbol, asshole!” Katsuki asserted.

“Symbols plural, dickhead,” Katsuma fired back.

“Izuku. If you could have a quirk, would you want it?”

“What? I can’t—Mikumo, that’s not how quirks work,” Izuku stuttered, confused.

“If it was,” Mikumo insisted.

“I’m—I’m not going to develop a late quirk, though! This is—this is cruel,” Izuku sobbed, voice breaking. The idea of a quirk… something he always wanted, the one thing that would have made his life easier… forever out of reach. Why would Mikumo ask him that?

“You made him cry, Deku!” Katsuma hissed.

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Are you an idiot? Your older self just flew! It sure looks like you’re gonna get a late-developed quirk to me,” Kacchan yelled.

That was… a good point. Izuku leapt forwards and latched onto Mikumo’s arm.

“When does it come in? How late was it? Was it hard to learn? Is it hard to control? How long did it take you to use it for hero work?” he asked.

“Gah! Izuku, calm down! I promise I’ll tell you about it!” Mikumo yelped.

“Why did you ask if Yagi had told them about it?” Kacchan asked slowly, voice calm and accusing.

“I’ll explain that, too,” Mikumo promised.

“I should have. I’m sorry for that,” Yagi-sensei said, chastised.

“Everyone sit down in a little circle,” Katsuma ordered. “We’re gonna have a conversation.”

Everyone sat down in a circle. Izuku next to Mikumo, next to Katsuma, next to Kacchan, next to Yagi-sensei, who sat on Izuku’s other side.

Mikumo turned towards him, taking up each of his hands and holding them tightly between them.

“Before we explain, I want you to know that everything I told you about being a hero is still true. Okay? All of that—the balance you need between smarts and strength, the importance of knowing your opponent and planning ahead, the necessity of being able to read people if your opponent is someone unexpected—all of that is still true,” he said, passionately.

“Uh. Okay…?” Izuku replied. Mikumo nodded, eyes intense.

“Okay. The second thing you need to know—and I need you to not freak out about this!—is that Yagi-san has not been entirely truthful about who he is.”

“What? You said you were—” Kacchan started, getting cut off by Katsuma again. Kacchan bit Katsuma’s hand and was released.

“That is true,” Yagi-sensei admitted, bowing his head. “I have… misled you. Though my name is Yagi Toshinori, and I do handle All Might’s personal affairs, my position as a secretary is a cover story I use to avoid suspicion. The truth is…”

Yagi-sensei reached for the hem of his shirt, fidgeting with it.

“The truth is, I am All Might.”

What?

What?

What? There was no way—he’d been helping Izuku train, there was no way—

“The fuck? You sure as shit aren’t! You’re a stick. A scarecrow. A skeleton. If All Might looked like you, we’d all assume he’s one foot into his fuckin’ grave,” Kacchan refuted.

“That is a good point, Bakugou-shounen,” Yagi-sensei conceded. He lifted his shirt to just above his chest, revealing a neasty, sprawling scar. It spiraled out from a central point, indenting the skin and malforming the man’s torso. A wound that big… that was horrendous. It must have hurt a lot. More than Izuku could possibly imagine.

Was this why he sometimes spit blood?

“About four years ago, I got into a fight with a villain. I had it classified, so there’s no record, but the villain was defeated, and I received this injury. I was in the hospital for months, undergoing a variety of surgeries. It sapped my strength, weakening me to what you see in front of you. My quirk is… unique. A strength-enhancer. Using it, I am able to transform into All Might, the Symbol of Peace! But ever since I received this injury, the time I can remain in that muscular form of mine is limited. I’m down to about five hours a day, now,” Yagi-sensei explained.

“Show us,” Kacchan demanded.

“Do NOT do that, Yagi!” Katsuma countered. Yagi grimaced. “Katsuki, Izuku, listen close: transforming hurts him. Do not let him transform unnecessarily.”

“We can assure you both, however. He really is All Might,” Mikumo said gently. “And now he has to explain his quirk.”

Yagi-sensei—All Might?—paled. “Really? Even though…”

“Yes. Both of them need to know,” Katsuma said, uncompromising.

Yagi-sensei let out a heavy sigh, dropping his shirt back into place. “My quirk is special. It’s called One for All. It’s a quirk that stockpiles power over time, and can be passed down.”

“Passed down… genetically? Most quirks do that,” Izuku pointed out. Yagi-sensei dragged a hand over his face.

“No. If I choose someone I think deserves it, I can give them One for All.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Kacchan said, flatly.

“Yeah! That’s… impossible! If that were true then everything we know about quirk science is wrong and—wait.” Izuku turned to look at Mikumo. “Is this how you have a quirk?”

“Yeah,” Mikumo answered easily, eyes turning soft and nostalgic. He stared out into the middle distance. “Toshinori gave One for All to me on this beach, y’know. The morning of UA’s entrance exam. I had trained for ten months, cleaning the beach, and I had only finished that same morning, about an hour before the transfer.” Mikumo laughed, suddenly. “I didn’t know anything about how to use it! The first time I tried, I broke both legs and an arm.”

“You what?” Katsuma burst out.

“Huh? You didn’t know, Kacchan?”

“No! We were in different testing areas, remember? What the hell?”

“I’m fine now, Kacchan. That time didn’t even leave a scar,” Mikumo waved him off.

“And isn’t that lucky!”

“Ahem,” Yagi-sensei interjected. “Either way, when we talked with Bakugou-kun and Midoriya-kun back in the principal's office, they made it clear to me that you, Midoriya-shounen, are the only choice to inherit my power.”

“You want me… to inherit All Might’s power?” Izuku echoed. Katsuma grimaced.

“We’re sorry, Izuku,” he said. Kacchan exploded the sand in his hands.

“Sorry? What the hell are you sorry for? Why did I even have to hear this whole spiel if I’m not even a candidate?” he shouted. “What makes Deku worthy but not me?”

“Katsuki,” Katsuma said sternly. “If All Might gave you OFA, it would kill you.”

It ripped the wind right out of Kacchan’s sails. “What?”

“OFA has grown strong enough now that… Well, picture it this way. Every person is an empty cup. A quirk is a liquid that fills the cup. It fills it perfectly. If you add another quirk on top of that, it overflows. It would wear away at your energy until you would be doomed to die young,” Mikumo explained.

“How young?” Izuku asked, nervous. He didn’t want to die!

“I’m… not sure. There’s only one OFA user who died from old age, and he died somewhere in his forties? So I think, by now, it would be somewhere in your twenties,” Mikumo mused. Izuku panicked. He didn’t want to die in his twenties. Wait. Mikumo was in his twenties!

“You’re dying?” Izuku asked, panic obvious in his voice.

“What? No!” Mikumo assured. “I’m biologically quirkless, still. So, if anyone with a quirk was given OFA, they’re trying to fit two glasses worth of liquid into one glass. My glass is empty, though, so I only have one glass of liquid, so I’ll be fine!”

“You promise?”

“Yeah! It’s my quirk, after all. I think I know how it works by now,” Mikumo smiled.

“Is this…” Izuku turned to look out over the ocean. “Is this why you hesitated when I asked if I could be a quirkless hero?”

A drawn-out silence.

“Yeah,” Mikumo said, voice subdued.

“Because I can’t. I can’t become a hero without One for All,” Izuku choked out, feeling tears rise to his eyes.

“No!” Mikumo startled, lurching forwards and grabbing onto Izuku’s shoulders. “No, that’s not what I mean! I’ve been talking to Kacchan about this… you are smart enough and can become strong enough to be a quirkless hero. You can still save people if you’re quirkless. But with OfA, you can do more. Reach more people, save more people! Offering you One for All isn’t about thinking that you need a quirk to be a hero. It’s about passing down a legacy. It’s about the people that held the quirk before you, and how you’ll honor them with what you use it for. It’s about becoming the best hero you can be. Do you understand, Izuku?”

“I think so,” Izuku answered, wiping at his face.

Mikumo searched his face for something, eyes intense and somewhat desperate. “No, you don’t understand,” he concluded, speaking softly. What? What more was there for Izuku to understand? “Not yet. But you will. One day, you will.”

“Oi, let the kid go, will you? You’re freaking him out,” Katsuma intervened, pulling Mikumo away.

“If One for All is a strength enhancer, how did you use it to fly just now? That wasn’t just jumping fast, that was flying. You hovered,” Kacchan asked. Another good point! Kacchan had lots of those today!

“Ah. Well… like Yagi-san explained, OFA stockpiles power over time. By the time it reached me, it had grown strong enough to let me access the quirks of the past users. The quirk I used to fly, Float, belonged to Yagi-san’s predecessor,” Mikumo explained.

“Wait… I’m getting multiple quirks? What are they?” Izuku pleaded.

“Sorry! Other than Float, which you will probably see me use, I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell you about them. Once they show up, I’ll help you to master them safely, but your personal journey with OFA will be important,” Mikumo said, smiling wide.

“My personal journey?”

“Yeah! I know mine really helped shape who I am today!” Mikumo stopped smiling, leveling Izuku with a look that was strangely serious. “Izuku. You understand that we’re different people, right?”

“What? Y-yeah!”

“Because as soon as Kacchan and I arrived, we started changing things. Which means your circumstances are different than mine. You’re not going to grow up to be me.”

He wasn’t? But… Mikumo was amazing. He was everything Izuku had been chasing for years! The heroic ideal he had always wanted to achieve!

“I’m not?” Izuku asked, voice breaking.

“Of course not,” Mikumo asserted. “You’re going to be better.”

Oh—Mikumo wanted, Mikumo thought Izuku could… that he was going to be…

He was going to be better.

Chapter Text

Katsuki was innocently practicing his fucking aim when Katsuma-nii came up behind him. What the fuck did he want this time?

He stood there for a minute before saying anything. He had that weird look on his face that Katsuki was unfamiliar with on his own face. The kind that said he was about to try and have a serious conversation about feelings. He had approached him with the same expression right before Himiko-nee’s adoption, and Katsuki saw him go up to Mikumo with that face on a lot, usually before they went and hid in their room, presumably so they could talk about future shit.

“Well?” Katsuki demanded, after a few moments of silence.

“Every kid in your class wants to be a hero,” Katsuma-nii said.

“Yeah, and?”

“So why is it that Izuku is the only one you’ve ever felt threatened by?”

“WHAT?” Katsuki shouted. He was not fucking threatened by shitty Deku!

Except that he apparently had been chosen as All Might’s fucking successor. On his own merits, in the original timeline, even if in this one it was on Mikumo’s recommendation.

Mikumo’s… and Katsuma-nii’s. How the hell had Katsuki’s opinion of Deku shifted so much? Twelve years was enough to fall in love with the fucking shitstain that insisted on looking down on him? It didn’t make any sense. Katsuki did his best not to think about it.

“Look, if you didn’t feel threatened by Izuku, then you wouldn’t have been bothered by his want to become a hero, even before you both learned about OFA.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Just think about it,” Katsuma-nii insisted, walking away. He joined Mikumo at the edge of the beach, and they shared a quick kiss before heading off to patrol. Gross. Katsuki hated seeing that shit.

Katsuki hated a lot about the situation. Deku had been chosen to inherit the strongest quirk in Japan. Apparently his future self would fall in love with the kid he hated. He had picked up calling his future self with the -nii suffix from Himiko-nee after she was adopted, which irritated him, and made Katsuma-nii smug as fuck, which irritated Katsuki more.

And now his future self thought he felt fucking threatened by Deku! Before he had learned about OFA! Bullshit!

… Except that his future self had been him, and probably remembered being him, and that meant he knew what the fuck he was talking about.

Katsuki let another explosion decimate a microwave. The trash pile tumbled down to the right, which was safely away from any people standing on the beach. Good.

Unfortunately, as he kept thinking about it, Katsuma-nii’s words kept making more sense. He didn’t care when the extras in class declared that they would be heroes. So why was it different when Deku did it?

Was it because he and Deku were childhood friends? Technically, he still had two other childhood friends in class. But they didn’t really use that term between the three of them, even though everybody referred to Katsuki and Deku as childhood friends.

Maybe it was because their moms knew each other? Katsuki had seen Deku a lot more than he had Fingers or Undercut growing up. Was that it? He and Deku had that shared obsession with All Might, too, which was kind of weird to think about now that they actually knew the man.

But Deku insisting he would be a hero, just like Katsuki, was just so condescending! Before OFA, he had no guarantees! Nobody had heard of a quirkless hero, and they never would, because it was ridiculous. Katsuki had the perfect quirk to be a hero! Everyone had told him that his entire life! And he made it better. He honed it, he aimed for perfection, he excelled. Perfect quirk, perfect record, perfect grades. Perfect fucking everything except his condescending shit of a childhood friend.

So yeah, maybe Katsuma-nii had a point. Deku wasn’t exactly another extra. He was probably a minor antagonist.

But wanting to crush Deku into the ground didn’t mean that he felt fucking threatened by him!

The thought didn’t leave his mind for the rest of the night.

He cornered Katsuma-nii at breakfast the next morning, before anyone else was up.

“What the fuck were you talking about yesterday?” Katsuki hissed. Katsuma-nii laughed nervously, setting down the carton of milk he was holding.

“I don’t know, what do you think?” he asked, flippantly.

“I think you’re full of shit,” Katsuki growled. Katsuma-nii laughed again, which, now that Katsuki thought about it, wasn’t like him at all.

“That’s a mean thing to say to your onii-chan!” Katsuma-nii pouted. Pouted? Katsuki took a step back, frowning to show how unimpressed he was. He felt the anger drop away, to be replaced by exasperation.

“Sorry, Himiko-nee,” he sighed. “If you see Katsuma-nii before I do, can you tell him that I need to talk to him?”

“Sure!” Himiko-nee cheered, melting back into herself, which left the clothes she was wearing (surely stolen from Katsuma-nii) too big on her, hanging off her shoulders awkwardly.

“Ugh, whatever. Let me get to the orange juice.”

Katsuma-nii wound up finding him first. He sat next to him on the couch, head already tilted inquisitively.

“Have you thought about what I asked you?”

“Kacchan?” Mikumo asked, poking his head around the doorway into the living room. “Are you being nice to Katsuki?”

“I’m actually helping him, asshole! Go away!”

“Love you too, Kacchan! If you’re having an important conversation, remember to be nice about it! I’m going to go plan that raid!” Mikumo called out, turning to go back to the guest room. He was so fucking weird. Always reminding Katsuma-nii to be nice to him. Fucker.

“That shit,” Katsuki said. Katsuma-nii raised an eyebrow. “That shit is why I don’t understand whatever it is that you’re trying to say to me. I don’t fucking feel threatened by Deku. He’s a condescending bastard and he gets on my nerves.”

Katsuma-nii sighed. “Really? That’s what you’re going with?”

“He’s an asshole who looks down on me! Why the fuck would I feel threatened?”

“Newsflash, Katsuki—not everybody who offers you help thinks that you’re incapable.”

“What the hell are you talking about? If I’m not strong enough to handle myself, then what’s the fucking point?”

“Sometimes, people who offer you help know that you can do whatever it is by yourself. They just don’t think you should have to. Even All Might accepts help when he needs it, dumbass. Izuku legitimately admires you. You think he would have stuck around this long if he actually looked down on you? Notice he doesn’t talk to those other two anymore—fucking, what were their names? Ugh, Fingers and Undercut. You know who I mean.”

That was. That was a good point.

“So what?” Katsuki fired back, from lack of other things to say.

“So, if Izuku isn’t looking down at you, why do you feel threatened?”

“I don’t. He wouldn’t have become a hero if he didn’t get OFA.”

“Are you forgetting what I told Izuku when we first arrived?” Katsuma-nii asked.

“You told him… that he could be a hero without a quirk,” Katsuki realized. “Why? You don’t even know that for sure—your Deku got OFA.”

“The first day at UA, when Mikumo walked into class, I wasn’t surprised.”

“Yeah, he’s got All Might fucking mentoring him!”

“He did. But that’s not why he passed the entrance exam. And more importantly: I didn’t know that. I didn’t find out anything about OFA until halfway through our first year.”

“What?” Wait, but. That didn’t make sense.

“But I still wasn’t surprised to see him, because even if I shouted and screamed and raged, a part of me knew that if anyone could do it, it would be that stubborn bastard. I don’t think I’d ever actually tried to imagine what life would be like without him nearby. He’s been there since we were kids, after all. We’ve never not known him.”

Go back. Go back. That was… weird. This was a thought that Katsuki was uncomfortable with, which meant he was probably on the right track for whatever point Katsuma-nii was trying to make.

A part of me knew that if anyone could do it, it would be that stubborn bastard.

“You’re right… he is a stubborn bastard.”

“Huh?” Katsuma-nii asked, clearly not following Katsuki’s line of thought.

“You asked why I feel threatened… and I guess I do. Because when I went through that fighting phase before I realized what it could do to my record… he would always find some way to stand between me and whatever kid I was beating on. Even if he was quirkless, and scared, and trembling… he stood between us, with his fists raised. He’s fucking insane.”

“Overcoming fear to do the right thing? What does that sound like?”

“Sounds like something fuckin’ heroic,” Katsuki grumbled. Katsuma-nii ruffled Katsuki’s hair, roughly.

“Yeah, Katsuki. Sounds like maybe Izuku has a real heroic spirit.”

Huh. Heroic spirit. Did… Katsuki have that?

Katsuma-nii must have seen something in his face shift, because he leaned forwards to meet Katsuki’s eyes.

“Katsuki. That heroic spirit takes many different forms. Izuku’s drive to save people, rescue heroes’ ability to keep slogging through rubble and gore and pull out the people left alive, investigative heroes’ commitment to finding the truth. And your drive to win.”

“My drive to win?”

“Winning ain’t worth it unless it’s a complete victory, right? And we’re both such perfectionists—that complete victory means zero casualties to heroes and civilians. That’s what makes us so good in a team.”

“I don’t need a team!”

“Ugh. Teams are inevitable, kid. Easier to just get good at them and be the best there, too, than to try and avoid them,” Katsuma-nii advised.

“Fine,” Katsuki bit out. Katsuma-nii barked out a short laugh, then got up and went to help Mikumo in the guest room.

So.

Heroic spirit, huh?

Chapter Text

“Eri should be about four right now. If her quirk hasn’t manifested yet, then it will in these next few months,” Mikumo started, gesturing at the timeline they had made in the first week here, which had been pinned to the wall of the guest room. “Chisaki took her shortly after her manifestation to start experimenting on her, but it took him a while to actually start creating the temporary quirk-erasing bullets.”

“So how do we find the yakuza?” Kacchan asked, looking over a map of the district that the Shie Hassaikai base had been located in when they had raided it in the future.

“Well, when we raided them in 2XXX, they had this huge underground compound. They’d definitely been there for a while. I’d put money on them being there now. So, it shouldn’t be hard… the hard part will be getting other heroes to work with us to take them down and rescue Eri,” Mikumo mused.

“Why do we need other heroes?”

“Are you really suggesting that we can take down the yakuza without any help?”

“I think you could do it!” Yoichi cheered.

“Are you okay? Sweetheart, I’m being serious this time. Are you sure you’re okay, like, mentally?” Nana asked, addressing Yoichi.

“I’m with Yoichi!” En agreed, enthusiastically, because he could never resist chaos. Mikumo does his level best to ignore them. He’s sure Nana has it handled.

Mikumo was more concerned about whether or not Kacchan thought they could fight the yakuza. Kacchan, pointedly, had not answered him.

The problem with the Shie Hassaikai was that they were good enough to not be on anyone’s radar. Even knowing where the base was, Mikumo didn’t have much information on who they might end up fighting, which was a bad thing. He remembered that Eijirou had come out of that raid injured, but he had no idea who had given him those injuries.

Luckily, help came in the shape of an unexpected phone call.

Tsukauchi-san had summoned them to the station.

“I had a bad feeling about this one when he showed up,” Tsukauchi-san explained. “The longer you work for the police, the more you get a feel for this kind of thing.”

“What do you mean?” Kacchan asked.

“The kind of problem that will become a bigger problem in the future. Lucky for me, I remembered that I now have two actual time travelers who may be able to help.”

Tsukauchi-san led them into the observation room. A nondescript man sat in the adjacent interrogation room.

“He claims he was part of the yakuza, which should have died out after the emergence of quirks. When we asked why he turned himself in, he said that he didn’t like the new management, and figured his chances would be better in prison,” Tsukauchi-san said mildly. He turned to face the Gemstone Duo. “Thoughts?”

A grin slowly spread across Kacchan’s face. His gaze didn’t stray from the gangster.

“This is just the lead we’ve been looking for!” Mikumo cheered.

Apparently, you didn’t have to be very high ranking within the Shie Hassaikai to know things about the Eight Bullets. Armed with the knowledge that the gangster had given them, the Gemstone Duo put in a request for a team-up meeting with several heroes through the Hero Network.

Two nights later, they found themselves in a conference room at Midnight’s agency. It was lucky they got her on board, really; she tended to straddle the line between being a spotlight hero and being an underground hero. The other heroes they had requested both showed up, as expected. Eraserhead and Kesagiriman.

Mikumo was looking forward to working with them, though it would be difficult not to refer to Eraserhead as “Aizawa-sensei”.

“We’ll help you out! We can remind you,” En volunteered. Mikumo appreciated that.

He took a deep breath, and explained the plan.

They had been in luck, as the gangster had told them about a back way into the compound. Otherwise that whole “stealth” idea would have been screwed.

It was also a good thing that Mikumo had gotten used to working with his respirator up. Apparently, wearing a mask to filter out dust in the air and wearing a mask to filter out Somnambulist in the air were extremely similar.

The Shie Hassakai compound was underground, and, while there was some airflow, it wasn’t quite well-ventilated enough to counteract Midnight’s quirk.

“Thank fucking Jesus for that. Gang wars are awful,” Daigoro said, which was concerning. Had he been in a gang fight before?

Is there something I need to be worried about? Mikumo thought back, nervously.

“Nah, you’re doing great, kid. Keep up the good work,” Daigoro assured him. Mikumo did not feel particularly reassured.

Their group crept forwards on silent feet, surrounded by a haze of purple. It was eerie. The haze moved ahead of them, so by the time they turned a corner, everyone was already asleep; laid out on the floor, slumped against the walls. It had the effect of making the whole place seem unnaturally quiet.

The sound of heavy breathing kept getting louder. They approached.

It was Sakaki Deidoro (quirk: Sloshed), snoring like a lunatic. Eraserhead glared at him as they passed. Kesagiriman kneeled next to properly handcuff him.

The first of the Eight Bullets to be captured.

One down, eight to go.

The yakuza’s beaklike masks, it seemed, were mostly performative. As they moved through the compound, they found each of the Eight Bullets, sometimes on their own, and sometimes with another Bullet. Every one of them was dead asleep, so it was pretty obvious that the masks didn’t have any type of filtration in them, or, if they did, it wasn’t good enough to combat Somnambulist.

As they moved through the compound, they all took turns restraining the Bullets in heavy-duty cuffs, and the rest of the yakuza members in typical handcuffs.

They passed through a set of sealed double doors and found themselves in a lab. There was one lone scientist inside, who Midnight quickly took out with a single burst of her quirk. He fell asleep slumped over a lab table, chemicals dripping from the flask in his hand onto the floor.

“Oh, if there’s any incriminating evidence against these guys as an organization, then it’s got to be in here,” Kacchan said, satisfaction lacing his tone.

“Here or in similar labs. This might not be the only one,” Eraserhead agreed. Everyone split from their position by the door to look through the lab and take photos of anything unusual.

“Hey, guys? This door is locked,” Kesagiriman called out. Everyone stopped and gathered in front of the locked door.

“Well, that’s suspicious,” Midnight frowned, after trying the door handle. This door was not airtight, but having any locked room attached to a literal evil scientist’s laboratory was suspicious. Midnight took a step back and readied her quirk.

Eraserhead crouched by the door and produced a set of lockpicks. A moment later, there was a click. He stood and threw the door open. Midnight leapt forwards, prepared to use her quirk on any hostiles—

It was a small, concrete room, with one bed in it. A child-size bed. Children’s toys, still in the boxes, lay scattered on the ground. A small, white-haired girl lay on the bed, facing the wall.

Eri. She was asleep.

“A kid?” Eraserhead asked, voice betraying his astonishment. Oh, right. Nobody except Mikumo and Kacchan knew about Eri.

“At least you found her,” Yoichi said. He was right.

“What would a kid be doing here? You think she might be the kid of that scientist?” Midnight asked, throwing a thumb back to indicate the snoozing scientist she was referring to.

“Are you blind?” Kacchan scoffed. “Look at the bandages on her arms. Even if she is that scientist’s kid, she’s clearly injured. It looks like she’s been living in this room, too. Shit.”

“Should we… wake her up?” Kesagiriman asked. Everyone hemmed and hawed and shrugged, so Eraserhead stepped forwards and gently shook her shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, softly. Eri didn’t move when she woke up, but she did visibly stiffen. It was heartbreaking to see her so hurt, so deeply scarred by fear, already taught to brace herself even against kind voices. She was just so little. Even littler than she had been when they had rescued her the first time.

Eri was four. She was four, and scared, and already being used as a science experiment by a deranged, hypocritical monster.

“Calm down, Mikumo. It’s okay. You’ve saved her. She’ll be alright,” Nana soothed. Mikumo took a deep breath. Nana was right. They had saved her. Three years earlier than last time; that was three more years free of Chisaki, three more years of happiness in the place of pain and abuse. This was a good thing, no matter how heartbreaking it was to see Eri sad and broken again, just as they had found her the first time.

Mikumo didn’t need to worry. He already knew how amazing and happy she’d grow up to be.

Eri sat up and turned to face their group, clearly realizing that Eraserhead’s voice wasn’t one that she recognized.

“Who are you?” she asked, anxious eyes scanning them.

“We’re heroes, kid,” Midnight assured her, smiling wide.

“Heroes?” Eri echoed, a note of hope in her voice.

“Yeah,” Eraserhead nodded.

“Are you—” Eri shrank in on herself. “Are you here to arrest me for what happened to papa?”

This was obviously not a question anyone had been expecting.

“What happened to your papa?” Mikumo asked.

“I reversed him,” Eri whispered, clenching her fists in her lap and ducking her head. “My disease killed him.”

“Your disease?” Midnight prompted, concern leaking through her voice.

“My quirk,” Eri explained.

“That doesn’t sound like it was your fault,” Eraserhead said, carefully. “Did you mean to do that?”

“No!” Eri protested, tearing up. “It was the first time I ever reversed anything! I didn’t mean to!”

“Then it wasn’t your fault. We’re not here to arrest you—we’re here to save you,” Eraserhead promised.

“Boss won’t let you,” Eri warned them.

“Boss?” Kesagiriman asked.

“Chisaki.”

“Chisaki,” Kacchan growled. Mikumo put a hand on his arm.

“We’ll get him. Don’t worry,” Mikumo swore.

“C’mon, kid. I’ll get you out of here,” Eraserhead said, standing up. He reached down to pick up Eri, and her horn flashed.

“No!” she cried out. “I can’t control it—I don’t know how to control it! I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Well, that’s easy!” Midnight laughed.

“She’s right, kid. My quirk is called Erasure. Anyone I look at can’t use their quirk. So, I’ll keep looking at you, and you won’t be able to hurt anybody,” Eraserhead explained.

That was a mindset they would have to fix, obviously. But it got Eri to climb into Eraserhead’s arms, which was where she belonged, so…

“Aren’t they precious!” Nana squealed.

“Yeah,” En agreed, sighing dreamily.

“We still haven’t found the last guy, right?” Kacchan asked, abruptly. He stomped out of Eri’s room, stopping just outside the door. He was probably trying not to cry from looking at her. “There’s another set of doors on the other side of the lab. We still haven’t cleared the whole compound.”

“I called the cops a while back, so they should be here soon to start taking in perps. We really should clear the rest of the building before they arrive,” Midnight agreed.

“Okay. We have to protect this girl now, as well,” Eraserhead said. “Midnight, you take point. I’ll walk in the middle, since I’ve got the girl. Kesagiriman, Emerald, take sides. Ruby, take back. Are we all good with that?”

A round of agreements.

“Good. Alright, let’s go.”

“You’re really going to keep calling her ‘the girl’?” Midnight raised one eyebrow. Eraserhead huffed.

“What’s your name?” he asked Eri. Eri looked up at him from where she had snuggled into his chest.

“Eri,” she answered.

“Eri. Alright. I’m going to carry you with us until we’ve finished here. Is that okay?”

“Okay,” Eri agreed. Eraserhead nodded.

“Alright, let’s move out,” Kesagiriman ordered. They filed out of Eri’s room and went towards the doors in the back of the lab.

Midnight kicked the doors open and let loose with her quirk, flooding the hall. They moved forwards carefully, walking through the purple haze with caution. The only target left to arrest was Chisaki, after all; they wanted to be careful.

Somnambulist put Eri to sleep, too. Eraserhead would have to be extra careful now that he was in charge of a sleeping child. r.

Their group crept through the halls, passing by more conked out gangsters. They slowed down as they reached a set of double doors, conveniently labeled ‘cafeteria’.

Midnight kicked the doors open abruptly, pumping in clouds of Somnambulist. There was a wave of shouting, and then a deep, eerie silence.

A man stood in the middle of the room.

“Well,” said Chisaki, “this is unexpected.”

“Chisaki,” Kacchan growled.

“Hello, bitchface” Second sneered.

Eraserhead took a step back, turning to shield Eri and activating his quirk on Overhaul.

“Come with us quietly, and nobody gets hurt,” Midnight offered. Chiskaki carefully took his gloves off, and Mikumo felt his whole body tense up. He consciously relaxed—being tense like that would be detrimental in a fight.

“I see you found Eri,” Chisaki remarked casually, completely ignoring Midnight. “She’s troublesome. You don’t want a bad girl like that. You should give her back to me.”

“Stay away from her,” someone growled, voice low and guttural. Mikumo only realized it had been himself who had spoken when Chisaki’s gaze slid over to him.

“You think I’m exaggerating? She’s dangerous. Her particular disease rewinds time on objects. When it manifested, she rewound her poor father right out of existence,” he revealed, a note of cruelty in his voice. Eraserhead recoiled from him, tightening his grip on Eri.

Eraserhead. How much longer could he keep his eyes open? It was longer than Mikumo was used to; this was pre-USJ. Where was the limit?

It didn’t matter. Kesagiriman huffed. His back foot shifted. In an instant, he was standing between Overhaul and the rest of the group, fist raised.

Mikumo barely had enough time to realize that Kesagiriman’s move had cut off Eraserhead’s sightline before the ground erupted into spikes.

“Fall back!” Eraserhead yelled. The spikes, churning, shooting up and down unpredictably, moved in a widening circle from where Overhaul had stood. The group retreated to the corridor, leaning against the walls to avoid any tossed concrete debris. Pebble-sized breakoffs shot down the hallway between them.

Kacchan and Mikumo were pressed against one wall, while Eraserhead, Eri, and Midnight were pressed against the other. Eraserhead had shifted his hold on Eri so that she was pressed tight to his body. One hand cradled the back of her head and leaned her face into his chest. It was startlingly reminiscent of how Aizawa-sensei used to hold Eri after nightmares, in the dorms at UA.

The sound of concrete being destroyed and reformed was so much louder than Mikumo had expected. He didn’t remember his fight with Overhaul as loud, but he guessed that maybe that was because there had been other, bigger things to focus on.

The spikes just kept churning and shifting violently. Mikumo couldn’t see into the room. What was happening? How did they move forwards from here?

“I know we usually try not to talk when you fight so we don’t distract you, but maybe you could try asking us for advice?” Nana suggested. Mikumo scowled.

Okay, this is me asking you for advice. OFA, what do we do? If any of us go in there, we’ll get skewered! he responded.

Next to him, Kacchan visibly got sick of waiting. He pushed off the wall, squinting his eyes to try and protect them from the dust, and blasted the spikes in the doorway.

Chunks of concrete flew in every direction, but, when the dust cleared, the spikes… were not in that area anymore.

“Hell yeah,” Kacchan grinned. But. But? That wasn’t how Overhaul’s quirk worked?

Wait, wait, wait.

“You’re onto something here,” Second murmured, gently encouraging.

Mikumo was onto something. Overhaul’s quirk was limited by a few different factors. The first one was presumably quirk exhaustion, but Mikumo didn’t know where that limit was, so he couldn’t count on that. The second limit was that Overhaul’s quirk relied on his own knowledge of the object he was manipulating. The third limit was basically a byproduct of the second: because Overhaul had to know the object and focus on it’s structure, he could only overhaul one object at a time. Which was probably why the ground had stopped changing where Kacchan had blasted it!

In the same way that the heroes couldn’t see Chisaki, he also could not see them.

Kacchan let loose another blast. He was carving a path through the maze of spikes. They could get closer, now.

“Hang back, Eraser!” Midnight ordered. “You have a child to protect!”

Eraserhead clearly wasn’t happy about that, but he also was still holding Eri so tight to his body that Mikumo was starting to doubt that he would ever put her down again, so…

Following the path that Kacchan was making, Mikumo entered the room. It was terrifying. Even in their bubble of relative safety, the spikes churning around them were sharp and dangerous. Haphazard debris littered the floor, which itself was now nothing more than a series of rough craters. Mikumo had to watch his footing and his head.

Suddenly, the room stilled. Mikumo looked up and realized he could see Chisaki. Kacchan’s path had reached the center. Glancing behind himself, Mikumo realized the reason for the rest of the stillness; Eraserhead could now see Chisaki, too.

Mikumo couldn’t see much of Chisaki’s face except for his eyes, but those eyes were angry. Furious. It was clear that Overhaul despised having his quirk taken from him. It occurred to Mikumo that, though he hadn’t mentioned it in this fight, his end goal was the eradication of all quirks.

And yet he relied on his this much? What a hypocrite.

“Every villain is a hypocrite, up to and including my brother. Consider this practice,” Yoichi sneered.

“Do you really think you can stop me?” Chisaki hissed. Mikumo stopped in his tracks, indignant.

“Yes,” he said, flatly.

“YOU REALLY THINK YOU’RE INVINCIBLE, HUH, SHITSTAIN?” Kacchan yelled, at full volume. He was full of fury. Eri was like his little sister, in the future. Just because he had gained a new little sister didn’t mean he had forgotten who originally held the title.

Chisaki raised one eyebrow. “Maybe I do,” he replied evenly. This had the effect of Kacchan trying to explode his face.

Which had the effect of breaking Eraserhead’s sightline, damnit! From the smirk on Chisaki’s face, he had planned for that reaction.

“He’s too smart to be evil,” Nana seethed.

Midnight had disappeared from Mikumo’s sight. Chisaki had seen down Kacchan’s whole path, so he now knew the structure of it and was manipulating it again. Mikumo found himself suddenly very glad for the armor built into his hero suit. He was surrounded by spikes, churning, plunging up and falling again.

He needed to get UP. If he could get higher, maybe he could see what was happening and get a grip on what was going on.

Also, maybe if he could get above the spikes, Danger Sense would stop screaming.

Mikumo kicked off the ground, using Float to hover above the battlefield. He still couldn’t spot Midnight. She was hiding too well. Kacchan was beneath him, clearing out areas of the room with his cluster bomb technique. Chisaki was keeping an eye on him, however, and kept overhauling that part of the floor right after it exploded, proving that as long as he could see an object he could know it’s structure. So, really, all Kacchan was doing was providing flashing lights and loud noises, like the world’s worst rave.

Well. At least he was trying. Overhaul was a tough opponent.

So. Midnight had vanished into the ether. Kacchan wasn’t making any progress. Eraserhead was stuck at the entrance, protecting Eri. Kesagiriman had also vanished.

It was possible that Kesagiriman and Midnight were laying a trap and simply sticking low to the ground. It was hard to see, between the dust thrown up by Overhaul’s quirk, the smoke generated by Kacchan’s quirk, and the clouds of purple mist that blanketed the room from Midnight’s quirk.

But…getting up above the battle did help. Because now Mikumo could see that Overhaul destroyed and rebuilt the ground in a pattern. Of course he did! The human brain was a pattern recognizing machine, especially one so predisposed to memorizing the form of things, the way Chisaki’s brain had to be in order to quickly use his quirk!

So how could Mikumo use this?

His eyes immediately went to Kacchan, who still was stuck blasting away the spikes trying to impale him, and was failing at moving forwards. When he tried to float towards him, Danger Sense screamed as Overhaul broke pattern to aim a spike at Mikumo’s face, so Mikumo floated backwards some instead.

“Right!” Mikumo shouted. “Left! Jump!”

Kacchan hadn’t quite caught on yet, but he shot Mikumo a quick look as if to confirm that he was the hero being shouted at.

“Right! Left! Jump!” Mikumo shouted again. This time, Kacchan moved with the shouts, and, finding himself undamaged, he grinned with all his teeth.

He blasted right. He blasted left. He blasted down and used the momentum to move forwards. It was slower than before, but he was making progress towards Overhaul. He was only a couple meters away.

This time, when Mikumo shouted, Kacchan blasted in sync with his calls.

“Left! Right! Left! Jump!”

On jump, Kacchan blasted forwards, over Chisaki’s head. Chisaki followed him with livid eyes, twisting in his crouched position to follow Kacchan’s arc through the air. At the peak, Kacchan released his Cluster Bomb special move.

Kacchan didn’t hit the ground. As the explosions from his special move went off, he released a blast in the opposite direction, launching him back over Chisaki’s head. He landed gracefully in the same spot he had left only moments ago.

The floor stopped churning as Chisaki lifted his hands, lunging out of the smoke from the attack with both hands reaching forwards to grab at where he thought Kacchan was.

Kacchan blasted him in the back, and he fell straight into the heavy-duty quirk nullifying cuffs that Midnight was holding.

“Ten out of ten for well-timed dramatic reappearances, Midnight-san,” En remarked.

Mikumo let out a sigh of relief.

“Well, that was an ordeal,” Midnight huffed. She dropped Chisaki, who, restrained as he was, barely avoided landing on his face. Kacchan put a foot on his calf so he couldn’t run away.

“Is everyone okay?” Mikumo asked, landing next to them.

“I’m okay,” Midnight said.

“I’m okay,” Kacchan agreed.

“We’re okay over here,” Eraserhead shouted from the entrance.

A beat of silence. Some shuffling.

“Kesagiriman?” Mikumo prompted.

“Good luck,” Chisaki taunted. Midnight kicked his mask, dislodging it. He fell asleep in mere seconds.

“Kesagiriman?” Eraserhead called.

Silence.

“Kesagiriman?” Mikumo called again, moving towards the entrance. Maybe his mask had been dislodged and the Somnambulist had put him to sleep?

“I hope so, kid,” Daigoro agreed, sympathetically.

But Mikumo didn’t see the silhouette of a sleeping person on the ground. Or, at least, not a sleeping Kesagiriman. There were all these gang members that had been knocked away from cafeteria tables as the spikes upended them.

Mikumo’s next step squished. That… couldn’t be good. He looked down, hesitantly.

There was something pink under his shoe. There were bits of pink and red and brown scattered all across the floor in front of him, actually.

Suddenly, he was really glad for his mask. It wasn’t a respectful thought to have, but he was glad that he at least did not have to smell this. Dead bodies always smelled awful.

Mikumo swallowed past the empty, wrenching feeling that was lodged in his chest.

“Guys?” he called out, his voice sounding wrong even to him. “I found Kesagiriman.”

“Is he okay?” Midnight asked.

“No… he’s… he’s…” Mikumo stuttered. Kacchan caught up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, what…” Kacchan trailed off as he followed Mikumo’s line of sight. “Oh.”

“Where is he?” Midnight demanded, appearing next to them with Chisaki flung over one shoulder. Kacchan gestured downwards, and Midnight’s face turned stricken as she processed what they were looking at. A moment passed, and Midnight hardened her face again.

“We will let the police handle this,” Midnight decided. “There’s nothing we can do right now, anyway.”

There was nothing they could do.

It was a sentence he had gotten very familiar with, before he had been forcibly sent to the past.

There was nothing they could do, said Midnight, a dead woman walking.

They made their way to the entrance. Eraserhead took one look at them and furrowed his eyebrows.

“What happened?” he asked.

What happened? Mikumo had come back from the future where everything was awful, and he still couldn’t prevent someone from dying. You want to know what happened, Aizawa-sensei?

Your best friend is being tortured and brainwashed. In the future, your other best friend is dead. Also, your other other best friend died three months ago (twelve years from now) when he was specifically targeted by an assassin who took pains to make it personal, and then bragged about it to you when you defeated him.

Kurogiri didn’t deserve that. Midnight didn’t deserve that. Present Mic didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve that.

What happened? (Focus on the now, Mikumo.)

“Kesagiriman was killed by Chisaki,” Kacchan answered. “Probably when he charged him. There’s… nothing recognizable left.”

Kacchan sounded hollow.

Mikumo felt hollow.

He had failed. They had decided to fix the past, and yet, someone had still ended up dead on their watch.

He called himself a hero? And yet he let things like this happen. Pathetic.

“Mikumo. Kesagiriman knew the risks of this operation. Logically, was there anything you could have done to prevent this?” Third asked, shortly.

Well… no. Not really, Mikumo answered.

“Then you’re not a terrible hero, kid. You could never be a terrible hero,” Nana assured him. “And, hey, you got Eri!”

“We arrested Chisaki. We rescued Eri. There’s nothing more we can do,” Mikumo said, mostly just to reassure himself and solidify the idea in his head.

“Yeah,” Kacchan agreed.

“Sometimes that’s how it goes, huh,” Midnight remarked.

“He was a good hero. He knew the risks going into this. Beyond prayers, we cannot help him now,” Eraserhead asserted.

“We can help Eri, though,” Mikumo said.

“Yeah.” Kacchan’s voice had taken on the rough quality it often had when he was emotional. If Mikumo and Kacchan had been alone, Mikumo knew that Kacchan would have been crying already. Mikumo knew he had tears sliding down his own cheeks, after all.

Eri was still asleep in Eraserhead’s arms. Eraserhead still had a death grip on her. Midnight looked over at her and frowned.

“Loosen up,” she said, nudging Eraserhead. “You’re going to suffocate her at this rate.”

“I don’t know what to do with kids,” Eraserhead said, loosening his grip by the smallest margin possible. Eri, in her sleep, snuffled into his chest. Eraserhead automatically ran the hand that had been cradling her head soothingly down her back.

Midnight raised one eyebrow. “You’re a terrible liar, Shouta,” she chided.

“Just because I’m good with teenagers at school doesn’t mean I’m good with smaller children,” Eraserhead snapped. Midnight pursed her lips and looked pointedly at where Eraserhead had been absentmindedly playing with Eri’s hair.

“Oh, this is funny,” Kacchan snickered. His voice was still rough, but he sounded a little bit better.

Eri was safe. That was what mattered. There was nothing Mikumo could do to help a dead man. But Eri was safe. And that was important.

They made it out of the compound and helped the police with the process of detaining a ridiculous amount of yakuza members.

Eri was sent to the hospital, escorted by Eraserhead. After a few different consulting phone calls, it was decided that, as a young child who could not control a dangerous quirk, she would be staying with Eraserhead (who had built-in emergency quirk control, a foster license, and a teaching license to boot) for the time being.

Mikumo knew that it was only a matter of time until the adoption was official.

He considered this a job, well… done, and went home with Kacchan to sleep away the ache of failure.

Chapter Text

Izuku was just setting down his backpack when Kacchan entered the classroom.

“Good morning, Kacchan!” Izuku greeted him. Kacchan’s gaze whipped around to meet his, absolutely abnormal and startling in its intensity.

“Deku?” Kacchan asked.

“Uh, yeah? Good morning?” he answered. Kacchan blinked hard, then refocused on Izuku.

“Right! Good morning, Deku!” he greeted, cheerfully. A few seats away, one of Kacchan’s friends, the one with the finger-extension quirk, stood up.

“Hey, man, are you okay? You’re not really acting like yourself,” he asked, shooting Izuku a dirty look as if it was his fault Kacchan was being weird.

Suddenly, the door to the classroom flew open with a bang! In the doorway stood…

Kacchan?

Wait—

But—

What?

“Himiko,” the Kacchan in the doorway growled.

“Oops!” the first Kacchan—Himiko?—giggled.

Where had Izuku heard that name?

It occurred to him as her face started dripping. How had he forgotten?

“You’re Kacchan’s new sister!” Izuku declared triumphantly, smacking his fist against his palm.

“Yep!” said Himiko, still wearing Kacchan’s gakuran. Maybe her quirk didn’t extend to clothing? “And you’re Deku! I’ve heard so much about you!”

“You, uh, you have?” Izuku asked, a little bit of hope leaking into his voice.

“Yeah! Katsuki-nii-chan talks about you all the time! He’s all Deku this and Deku that, and—”

“I do not do that!” Kacchan interjected. Himiko carried on like she hadn’t heard him.

“—and then Katsuma-nii is always getting on his case, too, all be nice and not everything is a competition! Except the only reason I know those are about you is because Katsuki-nii always shouts at Katsuma-nii—eep!”

Himiko was silenced by Kacchan’s hands wrapped around her jaw, completely covering her mouth.

“Shut the fuck up,” Kacchan demanded, voice simmering with barely-repressed anger. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Himiko batted her eyes, the corners of them crinkling with glee.

“Uh, Kacchan? She can’t answer with you holding her mouth shut like that,” Izuku pointed out. Kacchan glared at him, but released Himiko anyway.

Himiko took a bouncing step away from Kacchan. “I wanted to meet your friends! I get lonely staying at home, y’know!” she pouted.

“What, so you decided you’d disguise yourself as me and come harass my classmates?” Kacchan spat. Himiko shrugged.

“Mom said I could.”

Izuku was fascinated. Himiko didn’t make much sense, but Kacchan hadn’t exploded her yet! Maybe it was because they lived together? Would exploding his sister get Kacchan in trouble? Izuku didn’t know.

“What the fuck? Why would mom agree to this shit?” Kacchan raged.

“She said it would be funny! She was right!” Himiko cheered. She bounced over to Izuku, lifting a hand to his chin. “You were right, too, Deku is—”

Whatever she had been about to say, Izuku would never know. Kacchan had tackled her.

“Shut the fuck up!” Kacchan demanded, ears red. “Go home!”

“Geez, I’m going, I’m going!” Himiko pushed Kacchan off her and stood up, brushing the dirt off her borrowed gakuran. She waved to the class. “Bye, nii-chan’s classmates! Bye, Deku!”

And then she was gone.

The room was silent except for Kacchan’s angry growling.

“So, that was Himiko, huh?” Izuku asked. Kacchan slammed a closed fist down on his desk.

“Yeah, that was fucking Himiko. She’s a goddamn nuisance, and it’s all your brother’s fault!” Kacchan shouted.

“Huh?” Izuku demanded, mad on Mikumo’s behalf. “How can anything Himiko do be Mikumo-nii’s fault?”

“Him and Katsuma-nii are the idiots who brought her home like a lost kitten!”

“Wait, Bakugou, you have a brother?” Takahashi-kun—Kacchan’s friend with the undercut—asked.

“Tch. No, I have an annoying pain in the ass, who, despite apartment shopping for a month, is still fuckin’ living with us,” Kacchan snarled.

Izuku frowned. “You just have to give them time, Kacchan. I can’t imagine that it’s easy to find a good apartment.”

“Plenty of other people do it all the time, Deku!” Kacchan shouted.

“Besides, what would you know, Deku? Just shut up,” scoffed Watanabe-kun. He had a neat finger-extension quirk, and was Kacchan’s other friend.

Right. Izuku had gotten so used to the beach training sessions, where he and Kacchan were seen as equals, that he sometimes slipped when he was at Aldera. Here, he was just a worthless Deku.

He just needed to keep his head down and his mouth shut, and then he could go to Dagobah Beach where everything was better. He shouldn’t have drawn any attention to himself.

“My older sister didn’t have any trouble finding an apartment!” Takahashi-kun volunteered. Kacchan rolled his eyes.

“Who the fuck asked you, Undercut? Sit down. Class starts in ten minutes, so Sensei will be here soon,” Kacchan pointed out. He always hated rule-breaking, especially at school. Izuku slid into his desk seat.

A few minutes later, Sensei entered, and class began.

Lunch came, finally, and Izuku went to eat in the courtyard. He found the least busy corner, sat behind the tree closest to it, and settled in to eat his bento. He also had a water bottle, which he set next to his knee.

His bento was going to be really tasty today! His mom had made him octopus sausage, which was nostalgic on top of being delicious!

… Izuku wasn’t sure whether or not octopus sausage was okay for him to have, according to the meal plan that Yagi-sensei had given him, but even if it wasn’t, one meal that didn’t perfectly follow the plan couldn’t be that bad, right? Izuku would just make sure his mom was following the plan when he got home.

Izuku dug into his bento, idly listening to the chatter of the courtyard around him.

Hold on. Hold on. That was Kacchan’s voice.

Izuku peeked around the tree to confirm that he had, in fact, heard Kacchan. Kacchan and his two friends were entering the courtyard, which was weird, because Izuku knew that they all preferred to eat in the classroom. That was one of the reasons that Izuku started eating outside, actually. What were they doing out here?

“What are we even doing out here?” Kacchan grouched. Wow, for once they were on the same wavelength! Izuku ducked back behind the tree so he wouldn’t be seen.

“Relax, Bakugou!” Takahashi-kun laughed.

“Yeah, Bakugou, relax! I got something from my cousin I wanted to share with you guys.”

A rustling noise.

“HELL NO!” Kacchan objected.

“Aw, c’mon! It’s supposed to be nice!” Watanabe-kun whined.

“It’s supposed to feel like shit, Fingers! The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Geez, calm down, Bakugou! It’s just a cigarette.”

A cigarette? Getting caught with that would go on their records!

“Yeah, idiot, and getting caught with one will go on our records!”

“Pssh. We won’t get caught, then,” Takahashi-kun. There was the distinct click-woosh sound of a lighter. “You’re so high-strung. A cig would probably do you good.”

“No, dumbass! And I am not high-strung!”

“You totally are, dude. Is it about what happened this morning?” Watanabe-kun asked. Izuku found himself holding his breath.

“What the hell would it have to do with this morning?”

“Well, your sister’s… everything…” Takahashi-kun said.

“But especially the way she was talking to Deku. She made it sound like the two of you were close. I know you’re childhood friends, but you’re not exactly close, yeah?”

“I don’t know why you pay any attention to that waste of space at all,” Takahashi-kun remarked, casually. Izuku flinched. It took effort to remember that if All Might had chosen him to inherit One for All, Izuku couldn’t possibly be a waste of space.

“What do you mean by that?” Kacchan asked, voice low and dangerous.

“Man, just, the way your sister talked about it? It made it sound like you even talk about him at home.”

“Made it sound like you have a crush on him,” leered Takahashi-kun.

“Well I fucking don’t. My older brother has just been getting on my fuckin’ case about being nice to people or some shit and Deku’s the only friend of mine he knows the name of, ‘cause he remembers Deku from when we were little,” Kacchan explained, impatiently.

“Oh, is that all?” Watanabe-kun taunted.

“Yeah, that’s all,” Kacchan insisted. He huffed. “I’m going inside. If you two want to get in trouble for smoking, whatever, but I don’t want to be involved.”

Kacchan stomped away, and a moment later, Izuku heard a door slam. So Kacchan really had gone inside, huh?

“Pfft. He acts like such a delinquent, but he’s nothing much when it comes to following the rules, huh?” Takahashi-kun laughed.

“Well, he does want to be a Hero. It makes sense he’s such a stickler.”

“Makes him kinda boring sometimes, though.”

“Yeah,” Watanabe-kun sighed, vaguely wistful.

A few moments of silence passed, so Izuku felt safe in assuming he hadn’t been seen. He resumed eating his bento.

He only ate a few bites, however, before he made the mistake of knocking over his water bottle with his elbow. He hadn’t meant to do that!

It hit the ground with a dull clank.

“What was that?” Takahashi-kun asked.

“I don’t know, let me just—oh!”

Oh no.

“What is it?”

“It’s that Deku that Bakugou’s been obsessed with lately,” Watanabe-kun said, face splitting in glee. “What a boon, eh?”

Takahashi-kun came over to look as well. “Oh, good! Now maybe we can figure out what makes Bakugou think you’re so special,” he sneered.

Izuku waved his hands through the air. “No, no, you’ve got it all wrong!” he protested. “Kacchan doesn’t think anything of me!”

“Yeah, right,” Watanabe-kun scoffed. “You’re just trying to save your own ass.”

“Tch. You’re not worth the dirt beneath our feet! Why the hell do you get special consideration?”

“I don’t!”

“Liar.”

“We should do something about you,” Takahashi-kun smiled cruelly.

“Hmm, like… I’m pretty sure you’re not worth dirt, but do you think you’re worth ashes?” Watanabe-kun asked, tilting his head consideringly.

“Wh-what?” Izuku stuttered. Ashes? What was that supposed to mean?

Takahashi-kun’s face lit up as he apparently caught onto the joke. “Yeah, y’know! D’you figure you can be our ashtray?”

Izuku’s eyes went wide. “NO!” he shouted, scrambling backwards, away from the two boys.

It was futile. Watanabe-kun reached out with his quirk, grabbing Izuku’s arm in a tight grip. Izuku was panicking, he couldn’t remember anything he had been taught at Dagobah! He was sure he knew at least how to throw a punch, and yet…

The sleeve of his gakuran had been pushed up when Watanabe-kun grabbed him. Keeping his grip tight, Watanabe-kun used his other hand to smother his cigarette out on Izuku’s bare arm.

That hurt! That really, really hurt! It burned and it was all concentrated into one small area so it made sense that it hurt, but knowing why wasn’t helpful, it didn’t make it hurt any less!

Watanabe-kun pulled his now-smothered cigarette away, only for Takahashi-kun to push his onto Izuku’s skin, just about an inch away from the burn left by Watanabe-kun.

This was awful. This was awful. This was so cruel! They had never been this cruel before!

Izuku knew he was crying, and he knew it was humiliating, but his arm just hurt too much for him to stop his tears.

“Let go of me!” Izuku yelled. He looked around frantically in the hopes that someone else would intervene, but it was like the courtyard had half-emptied while Izuku wasn’t paying attention. The only kids left seemed to be other groups of delinquents, also smoking or roughhousing.

“C’mon, shut up! Pretty sure ashtrays don’t talk,” Watanabe-kun sneered.

“Pretty sure Deku’s aren’t supposed to, either,” Takahashi-kun added. Izuku sobbed as he finally pulled his cigarette away from Izuku’s arm.

Immediately, Izuku pulled his arm in close and hunched over it. It was an instinctual position, protecting his hurt arm from further damage. He was still crying.

The burns left behind by both were red and aggravated, bleeding sluggishly. That… was definitely not a good sign.

And who knew if those cigarettes had been clean! Was it possible to get an infection from something like this? Hopefully not!

Watanabe-kun and Takahashi-kun were laughing. Izuku was hunched over, burnt, and crying, and they thought this was funny.

The bell rang.

“Oh, shit,” Takahashi-kun cursed. “C’mon, we don’t wanna be late for class.”

“Ah, yeah, we better go!” Watanabe-kun agreed. They both rushed off, back into the building.

Izuku knew he had five minutes to get back to the classroom. It only took two to get there. Which meant he had some time to do something about the burns.

Izuku gathered up his things, and made his way to the restroom.

He had done enough research on Kacchan’s quirk to know that you shouldn’t put ice on burns, which was fine because he didn’t have any ice anyway. He put the part of his arm with the burn on it under the faucet of the bathroom sink, and slowly turned on the water.

The stream was a little too harsh to really call it “soothing”, and the water was lukewarm instead of cold, but at the very least it washed away some of the blood. Izuku pulled his arm out from under the water and pressed his palm over the burns. Hopefully, they would scab up soon.

As soon as he was sure that the bleeding wasn’t going to be an issue, he left and went to the classroom.

He slid into his seat seconds before the tardy bell rang. Sensei called roll, and the day continued.

Izuku arrived at Dagobah beach the way he always did: in a t-shirt and work gloves, with plenty of determination to clear the trash away.

Well, technically he didn’t show up with the work gloves on. They belonged to Yagi-sensei, so Izuku picked them up when he arrived at Dagobah.

Of course, Kacchan noticed the burns right away.

He grabbed Izuku’s wrist, yanking his arm towards himself to inspect Izuku’s forearm.

“What the hell is this, Deku?” Kacchan demanded.

“It's nothing!” Izuku insisted, futilely trying to pull his arm back. “It’s nothing! Give me my arm!”

Yagi-sensei peered over at Izuku’s arm and paled. “My boy,” he asked, hesitantly “are those cigarette burns?”

Kacchan froze. “Cigarette burns?” he echoed.

“Yes,” replied Yagi-sensei. “Unfortunately, I recognize them. They’re frighteningly common in abuse cases. My boy…” he hesitated. “Is your mother…?”

What? “W-what?” Izuku sputtered. “No, of course not!”

“It wasn’t his mom. Auntie Inko is an angel,” Kacchan said, robotically. Izuku gestured with his free arm for emphasis.

“Well, if it wasn’t her, then who was it?” Yagi-sensei asked.

“I know who it was. I’ll take care of it,” Kacchan promised darkly, finally releasing Izuku’s arm. He snatched it back against his chest.

That was… weird. Kacchan almost sounded protective of him, which wouldn’t have been out of place if this was Katsuma, but it wasn’t. This was Kacchan.

Yagi-sensei sighed. “Well, if you insist. Either way, Midoriya-shounen, I can’t let you haul trash with an open burn.”

“But—” Izuku started to protest. Yagi-sensei waved a hand through the air to cut him off.

“Let me finish! I know you still want to train, but let me put some burn cream and gauze on it first!” he explained. Izuku relaxed.

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed. “That’s a good idea.”

Yagi-sensei was so careful when he applied the burn cream. Of all the people who had held Izuku’s forearm today, Yagi-sensei was uncontestedly the gentlest.

His hold made Izuku feel safe. It was easy to see how Yagi-sensei could be All Might, when he acted like this. He practically radiated safety.

He was easy for Izuku to put his trust in.

When Yagi-sensei was done, he smiled widely at Izuku, and Izuku smiled back. And then, almost impulsively, it seemed, Yagi-sensei reached up and ruffled his hair.

“Hey!” Izuku protested, barely keeping from laughing. The softness in Yagi-sensei’s eyes told Izuku that his happiness might have shown, anyway.

That was embarrassing! Izuku ran off to start hauling trash.

Chapter Text

Katsuki knew he shouldn’t let it get to him, but he was stuck thinking about Himiko-nee all day. Did he really talk about Deku so much? Sure, Katsuma-nii had been insisting on having conversations and wouldn’t shut up about him treating Deku nicer, or whatever, but did Himiko-nee really have to come to Katsuki’s school and bug Deku with Katsuki’s face on?

And then fucking Fingers and Undercut wouldn’t let him forget about it. As if it was illegal for him to talk about Deku or something. Why the hell did they care?

And what was with the cigarettes? Didn’t they know getting caught with that shit was a fast way to get a high school application denied? Especially if the school they applied to had any sort of fucking standards!

The smell was fucking disgusting, too. Katsuki left them in the courtyard at lunch, and they didn’t talk for the rest of the day.

The real highlight of each day was the end of it, of course. Nothing could beat training under All Might, even if it was at a trash beach. Katsuki could practically feel himself becoming stronger by the day!

And then Deku showed up with some weird red marks on his arm. Perfect circles. They looked like wounds.

Katsuki grabbed Deku’s wrist to take a closer look.

They were definitely some kind of wound.

“What the hell is this, Deku?” Katsuki demanded. The dumb nerd hadn’t been hurt yesterday!

“It’s nothing! It’s nothing!” Deku insisted, trying to pull his arm from Katsuki’s grip. Good fucking luck, nerd. Katsuki was definitely stronger, even if Deku had been bulking up a bit. “Give me back my arm!”

Yagi-sensei came up beside the two of them and peered at Deku’s arm. His face went pale alarmingly fast. “My boy,” he asked, “are those cigarette burns?”

Katsuki froze.

“Cigarette burns?” he echoed.

How the hell would Deku have—wait. Wait. There were two burns, and Katsuki knew two idiots who had taken up smoking today…

… in the same courtyard Katsuki knew Deku ate in to avoid them.

But the two of them had never physically hurt Deku. Katsuki himself had made a point of not hurting the nerd physically, ever since he learned that fighting might go on his record and hurt his chances, way back in the middle of elementary school. They hadn’t hurt him with more than words since then. This was… this was too far.

“Yes,” Yagi-sensei replied, unknowingly striking the final blow against Katsuki’s loyalty to his friends. “Unfortunately, I recognize them. They’re frighteningly common in abuse cases. My boy…” he addressed Izuku, hesitating. “Is your mother…?”

“W-what?” Deku sputtered. “No, of course not!”

“It wasn’t his mom. Auntie Inko is an angel,” Katsuki agreed, barely able to focus on his words past his rage. Deku gestured towards him for emphasis.

“Well, if it wasn’t her, then who was it?” Yagi-sensei asked.

Two slimeball morons who had gone too far, and now would have to pay the price. Katsuki felt some of his rage recede as he formed a plan for what he would do about them. It did always help to have a clear course of action, after all.

“I know who it was. I’ll take care of it,” Katsuki promised, letting go of Deku’s arm. Quickly, Deku snatched it back against his chest. As if Katsuki would grab it again immediately. Dumbass.

Yagi-sensei sighed. “Well, if you insist. Either way, Midoriya-shounen, I can’t let you haul trash with an open burn.”

“But—” Deku started to protest. Yagi-sensei waved a hand through the air to cut him off.

“Let me finish! I know you still want to train, but let me put some burn cream and gauze on it first!” he explained. Deku relaxed. Did not missing training really matter that much to him?

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed. “That’s a good idea.”

Yagi-sensei grabbed his stuff and rubbed some cream around the burns on Deku’s arm. Katsuki huffed and turned away.

Yagi-sensei could handle this part. Katsuki had revenge to plan.

He stomped off to train.

If Katsuki was gonna trust Katsuma-nii about this whole heroic spirit thing, then obviously Katsuki needed to think about how heroes acted and what they did. It wasn’t enough to just admire All Might—Katsuki needed to analyze him. Sure, Katsuma-nii said that Katsuki’s drive to win showed his heroic spirit, but extra time spent studying how heroes acted couldn’t hurt, right?

And Katsuki was one-hundred percent positive that All Might wouldn’t let two fuckheads get away with burning another kid. The way Yagi-sensei had been talking on the beach proved that.

So Katsuki may have stayed up a little late watching All Might interviews as research and coming up with a plan. He needed to be prepared. Luckily, he already knew that Fingers and Undercut valued his opinion of them, which would make utterly destroying them that much easier.

Good. Katsuki had a plan.

Katsuki’s plan went right out the fuckin’ window as soon as he stepped into the classroom and saw Fingers’ smug mug leering at Deku over the nerd’s own damn desk.

He didn’t remember crossing the room to reach them.

He did remember the satisfying smack! of flesh meeting flesh as his knuckles dug into Fingers’ cheekbone.

“Kacchan!” Deku exclaimed, still sitting at his desk, eyes wide with shock.

There were hands on Katsuki’s upper arms. The hands belonged, conveniently, to the other asshole who had burned Izuku. Katsuki leaned into them, spinning around to leave a shiner on Undercut’s cheekbone, too.

Undercut let go of Katsuki, stumbling backwards. Izuku was in between them, suddenly.

“Kacchan, what are you doing? Stop it!” he shouted. “I don’t know why you’re mad, but fighting like this will go on your record!”

“Move aside, Deku,” Katsuki growled. Fingers scoffed from behind him.

“What the hell, man? You’re turning on us?” he asked, rhetorically. Katsuki realized Fingers was an easier target, seeing as Deku was not guarding him, and turned back to punch him again and pin him to Deku’s desk.

“Hey!” Undercut shouted. Four hands on Katsuki’s arms, all trying to pull him off of Fingers.

“Just what is going on in here?” Sensei exclaimed, standing in the doorway of the classroom.

Ah, shit.

At the end of the school day, they had to have a meeting with the principal.

Parents had been called, and now Katsuki was trapped in a tiny waiting room outside of the principals office, so they could begin the meeting when everyone’s parents and/or guardians arrived.

Fingers’ and Undercuts’ parents had already arrived! Katsuki knew his parents were busy people, but what the hell was taking so long? C’mon! Auntie Inko wasn’t there yet either! This was getting embarrassing!

And he still wanted to punch those two fuckers across the room!

The door swung open suddenly, and Katsuki’s question was answered, because in came Katsuma-nii and Mikumo. It was early enough in the day that they hadn’t started prepping for patrol yet, and so they were dressed in casual clothes. They looked hella fucking unproffessional.

“Do you count as legal guardians?” Izuku asked, eyes wide and fingers fidgeting. He was anxious. So was Katsuki.

“We’re close enough for fuckin’ school-meeting purposes,” Katsuma declared. The secretary that had been waiting for everyone made a strained expression that suggested she disagreed, but was too polite to say anything about it.

“Right, now that everybody is here, if we could all move into the principal’s office, please?” she suggested.

So each family stood up and shuffled into the principal's office, which was slightly bigger than the fucking waiting area. The kids were directed to sit in four chairs arranged in front of the principal’s desk, and the respective guardians stood next to them.

“Bakugou-kun, Midoriya-kun, who are these people?” the principal asked, looking at Katsuma-nii and Mikumo.

“We’re their older brothers!” Mikumo supplied cheerfully. “Mom can’t get off work right now—she works so hard, as a single mother, she needs all the hours she can get—and the Bakugou’s are also very busy, of course, they said they would have come if they could have, but they have this big commission due date coming up, so—”

The principal held up his hand, cutting Mikumo off. “I get the picture,” he said. “Do you have any ID that proves you are related to them?”

Did he really just ask if they were related? They looked exactly the same! Which made sense, because the “older brother” schtick was to cover up that they were the same person, but from the future!

“That would be anything with our family name on it, yeah?” Katsuma-nii asked. He pulled his wallet from his jean pocket and tossed it onto the principal’s desk. “ID should be in there.”

“Ah, yes! Of course!” Mikumo agreed, setting his wallet down neatly beside Katsuma-nii’s. The principal picked up Katsuma-nii’s first, opening it to see his ID. His eyes practically bugged out.

“Is there a problem?” Undercut’s mom asked acerbically.

“Is this a hero license?” the principal wheezed.

“Yeah, what of it?” Katsuma-nii challenged, crossing his arms.

“Nothing, nothing!” He set Katsuma-nii’s wallet down and picked up Mikumo’s. His eyes bugged out again.

“Is there a problem?” Mikumo asked, sugar-sweet. Too sweet.

“You are—You’re also a hero?”

“Yes.”

“I suppose we understand where young Midoriya-kun gets his determination from, then!” the principal said, with the fakest grin Katsuki had ever seen. He returned Katsuma-nii and Mikumo’s wallets.

“Are we getting started or what? My son was assaulted!” Fingers’ dad shouted.

“Hmm. Yes. About today's incident. The school policy here is to allow all viewpoints from the fight to be explained, and then to decide on punishment. Does this seem fair to you all?”

“I just can’t see how my baby would ever get involved in a fight!” Undercut’s dad despaired.

“Yes, well, maybe he would like to give his perspective first?” the principal offered. Undercut seemed nervous, but he puffed out his chest anyway and opened his dumbass fucking mouth.

“Well, Bakugou came into class and just made a beeline for Yori-kun! He just went straight for him and punched him for no reason! When I tried to pull him away from Yori-kun, Bakugou punched me too!” Undercut whined. “And then Deku got in between us, but he didn’t punch Deku, and instead he went after Yori-kun again, and I tried to pull him away and Deku tried to pull him away, but he only stopped when sensei arrived!”

“I see. Thank you. Watanabe-kun, would you like to speak next?”

“Yeah!” Fingers said. “Like Jiro-kun said, I was just minding my own business, and then Bakugou came in and punched me! Jiro-kun tried to hold him back, but then he just spun around and punched Jiro-kun! And then Deku got between them, so Bakugou turned back around and punched me again! And Jiro-kun and Deku tried to pull him off me, but he didn’t let up until sensei came in!”

“Hmm. Midoriya-kun, would you like to volunteer your perspective? Why did you decide to get involved?” the principal asked.

“I couldn’t let Kacchan punch people for no reason! Watanabe-kun had been talking to me, but Kacchan came into the room and, uh, punched him. Takahashi-kun tried to pull Kacchan off of Watanabe-kun, but then Kacchan just punched him instead. So I got between them, but Kacchan just went back to trying to fight Watanabe-kun… Takahashi-kun and I tried to pull him away, but Kacchan didn’t stop trying until sensei arrived,” Deku rambled, slowly sinking down in his chair.

“Bakugou-kun made no move to try and fight you, too?” the principal asked.

“No, sir,” Deku answered.

“Interesting. Bakugou-kun, would you like to explain your side of things?”

“Yeah, I would! I noticed a couple of fresh burn marks on Deku’s arm yesterday, after school. I also happen to know a couple of idiots who had a couple of lit cigarettes yesterday. These fuckers burned Deku! I can’t just let that shit slide! So I came to school, and I had a plan to deal with them, but when I saw their dumb fucking faces I couldn’t stop myself. They burned Deku! They have to pay for that!” Katsuki shouted.

The principal folded his hands, slowly and deliberately, on the surface of his desk.

“That sounds like an issue you should have brought to a teacher, instead of trying to handle it yourself,” he said, leveling a stern look at Katsuki.

The hell? Katsuki just told him that the two chuckleheads that got punched burned another kid. Shouldn’t they get in trouble for that?

“My sweet baby would never touch a cigarette!” Fingers’ mom wailed.

“Yeah! And you still shouldn’t have punched me!” Fingers’ chimed in.

Katsuki turned desperate eyes to Mikumo and Katsuma-nii. Surely they would have a solution? They were from the future! They were adults! They must have plenty of ways to make some fucking idiots see sense!

But neither one met Katsuki’s eye. Mikumo was glowering at the principal; if his quirk was laser eyes, he would have burned the principal's face off. Katsuma-nii seemed to be doing some kind of deep-breathing exercise, fists clenched tightly.

They were both so obviously so mad, so then why didn’t they say anything?

“After hearing all of your perspectives, I think I have settled on what to do,” the principal announced. “If either of these two boys are caught with cigarettes, they will be confiscated. I will warn the teachers to watch for them. And Bakugou Katsuki, for throwing three punches, will get three days of detention, to be served after school. Is everyone amenable to these terms?”

Katsuki wasn’t! The fucks who burned Deku still weren’t getting punished!

Suddenly, Katsuma-nii’s hand was wrapped around his lower jaw, preventing him from saying anything.

“We’re amenable,” Katsuma-nii agreed. What the fuck!

“We’re amenable,” Mikumo also agreed.

Undercut’s mom sniffed haughtily. “I suppose we’re amenable,” she said, not sounding amenable at all.

“Yeah, we’re amenable,” Fingers’ dad concurred, with great reluctance.

“Wonderful! Then this meeting is over. Thank you for your time,” the principal dismissed them.

Katsuki shoved Katsuma-nii’s hand off of his face and stormed outside. Why the hell was he the only one getting punished?

He stomped all the way to Dagobah beach, only to discover that Yagi-sensei wasn’t even there yet.

“FUCK!” he screamed, blasting an aimless explosion into the sand.

Katsuma-nii came up to stand beside him. He didn’t say anything for a long minute.

Mikumo and Deku finally caught up. Deku looked confused, mostly, and he was holding hands with Mikumo, who was… crying?

Of course he was crying. No way Deku would stop being a crybaby just because he grew up. But Katsuki hadn’t seen Mikumo cry at all, in the time he had been with them. He seemed so strong.

“Cut that out, Deku, you damn crybaby,” Katsuma-nii groused.

“I’m just so proud!” Mikumo sobbed.

PROUD? He was crying from pride? What the fuck was he proud of?

Katsuma-nii sighed. “Yeah, I’m proud of them, too, but you don’t see me sobbing my eyes out. You’re confusing Izuku.”

“Why the hell are you proud? I got into a fight! And the dumbasses who hurt Deku didn’t even get in trouble!” Katsuki yelled.

“That’s exactly why we’re proud, you brat,” Katsuma-nii explained, rolling his eyes. “This didn’t happen the first time around.”

“It didn’t?” Deku asked.

“No, it didn’t. And—obviously I’m not happy you got burnt, Izuku! But at this point in our lives, Kacchan wouldn’t have cared. He might have laughed, actually,” Mikumo said.

Katsuki felt like he’d been doused in cold water.

Laughed?

“Tch. I was an asshole. Obviously Katsuki is already doing better than me,” Katsuma-nii agreed.

Katsuki was… doing better than Katsuma-nii? He was only following Katsuma-nii’s advice, so how the hell was he better?

Maybe because… Katsuma-nii didn’t have his own older brother to give advice?

Gross. That thought was too sappy for Katsuki’s tastes.

“Ah, I see you all beat me here today!” Yagi-sensei greeted them, arriving at the edge of the beach. “Well, let’s get started!”

Katsuki grinned. Even if he had to put up with detention tomorrow, at least he had an excuse to explode things right now.

Chapter Text

Mikumo dropped the case file on the kitchen counter of his and Kacchan’s shiny new apartment.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of my kitchen?” Kacchan growled, half-heartedly. Mikumo smiled at him.

“It’s the case file on Imasuji Goto,” he explained. “I thought you should look at it.”

“Who?” Kacchan asked, picking up the file.

“Muscular.”

“Ah, shit. Deku, we have our hands full making plans already. What the hell do we need to mess with this guy for?”

“What, you want Kota’s parents to die?” Mikumo challenged. He knew Kacchan didn’t, but a challenge was the fastest way to get him thinking.

“Woah, harsh!” Daigoro said, jokingly.

“That’s not what I said!”

“Technically, we’ve been making plans to neutralize the League, and technically Muscular is part of the League…”

“Fine, I’ll read the stupid case file!” Kacchan agreed. “Now get out of my kitchen!”

Kacchan was right about being busy with other plans as well, though. They had about a month before the attack that Muscular killed the Water Hose in.

In the meantime, Todoroki Shouto, only thirteen, was still living in a household of abuse and high expectations. The Aoyama family was still living in fear of a debt to a man that is too powerful to defy.

They had their work cut out for them.

Well. Nobody said this was going to be easy.

“I’m just not sure who to put him with,” Mikumo complained.

“As long as we don’t drop him on my mom. I don’t need more siblings,” Kacchan said.

“Kacchan! I’m being serious! We can’t look after Todoroki-kun, but I don’t know who can! For that matter, how are we even going to get him away from Endeavor? Endeavor is the number two hero, he has power. Nobody is going to believe that he mistreats Todoroki-kun without some really solid proof.”

“God, if I had a drink I would take a swig right now. Poor kid,” Nana muttered.

“I think we should put him with the Pussycats,” Kacchan suggested.

“What?”

“The Pussycats. Mandalay, specifically. We already know that they can handle a traumatized kid, and we know that they can train future heroes effectively. If we succeed in saving the Water Hose duo, then the Pussycats aren’t taking care of Kota, so they have the room for Todoroki. Plus, we already know that they’re good at working with and training hero students, so if Todoroki decides he still wants to be a hero, he would still be able to learn and progress with them,” Kacchan explained.

“That’s a pretty good idea, actually,” Hikage agreed.

“Okay, so how do we get him there? We kinda spirited Himiko-chan away, but Todoroki-kun is the son of Endeavor... it’s not going to be that easy.”

“Ugh. Good point,” Yoichi grumbled.

Kacchan shrugged. “Well, my mom had those adoption papers on hand, right? Maybe we can ask her?”

Mikumo and Kacchan arrived at the Bakugou house and quickly discovered that Mikumo’s mom was visiting, as well. They asked their question about adoption anyway.

“Custody changes?” Mitsuki-san asked. “Are you boys bringing us another kid to adopt?”

“No!” Kacchan snapped. Mikumo laughed.

“Removal of custody in absence of a guardian suspected of abuse or neglect, right? That’s what you boys are asking?” Mikumo’s mom asked.

“Yeah! Do you know something?” Mikumo asked back.

“Well, there is a reason your father doesn’t share custody of you with me. Give me a while, and I think I can get you the forms you need,” his mom answered.

“Ah. Your biological father,” Second said, bitterly.

Ah. Mikumo’s biological father. That was one issue he had yet to tell Izuku about, but… well, did Izuku really need to know? The identity of the man didn’t change his actions. He was still a scumbag.

One day later, and Mikumo’s mom arrived at their apartment with an almost worrying amount of legal paperwork.

“Why the hell are there so many documents?” Kacchan groused, as he sorted through the papers mom had laid out on the coffee table.

“Well, I wanted it to be watertight,” mom explained, lips pressed in a thin line.

“I don’t blame you,” Yoichi groaned.

“I don’t blame you,” Mikumo muttered, in sync with Yoichi.

“What was that, dear?”

“Nothing, mom!”

“Kacchan, wake up!”

“Fuck off,” Kacchan growled, rolling over and wrapping the blanket tighter around his shoulders.

“Kacchan, today is the day of Muscular’s fight with the Water Hose duo!”

“FUCK!” Kacchan yelled, throwing off the sheets and bolting out of bed. Mikumo laughed.

“We have a few hours still, calm down! But we need to be prepared. I don’t remember when—or where—the fight went down, exactly. It was definitely today, though!”

Kacchan stopped in his tracks, halfway to the door of the attached bathroom. “So do I need to get ready or not?”

“I mean… you should probably get ready, yeah. Just don’t, uh, don’t expect immediate action?”

Kacchan grunted and made his way to the bathroom. When he came out, he had applied his usual impeccable eyeliner and was holding a can of hairspray. He threw the hairspray at Mikumo.

“If we’re going to make a daylight debut, we need to look our best, Deku,” he said.

Mikumo caught the hairspray. “Daylight debut?”

“We’re underground heroes, remember? We need to look good, win, be mysterious, and get out fast. No interviews, no autographs, just a perfect victory,” Kacchan insisted.

“Your boyfriend really thinks he can pull off look good and be mysterious when he looks like an angry pomeranian? Yikes,” Third remarked. Mikumo carefully didn’t react.

“Right, right! I’ll go fix my hair, then,” Mikumo agreed. This was not the first time that Kacchan had made him fix his unruly curls. He knew what he was doing by now.

“Duck!” Kacchan shouted. Mikumo ducked, flying horizontally under Muscular’s outstretched arm. He straightened back up just in time to grab two civilians. Time to take them to the evacuation area!

Muscular in a residential setting was really something terrifying. He didn’t care about human life, he didn’t care about property destruction—he just laughed and laughed, covered in sawdust and blood.

The Water Hose, actually, seemed like they could beat him. They just couldn’t beat him and save all the civilians that were in the area.

Mikumo relayed this to Kacchan.

“Yeah, I can see that too, Emerald! But what the fuck do you want me to do, not fight the fucking villain?”

“Maybe you and one of the Water Hose can fight him, and the other Water Hose and I can be on rescue duty?” Mikumo suggested.

“Yeah, sure, why the fuck not?” Kacchan snarled. He launched himself back into the fight, releasing several AP shots into Muscular’s side.

Mikumo floated gently over to where Hydrant (the husband of the duo) was evacuating civilians.

“Hey,” Mikumo said. Hydrant looked up at him. “Ruby had an idea. We think that we might be more effective against this fight if Ruby and Fountain focus on fighting Muscular, and me and you focus on evacuation. What do you say?”

Hydrant looked about ready to melt. “Sounds like a plan, uh… it was Emerald, right?” Mikumo nodded. “Sounds like a plan, Emerald.”

“Great!”

Hydrant put a finger to his ear. “Fountain, new plan. You and Ruby focus on defeating Muscular. Emerald and I will evac civvies. Work for you?”

Fountain’s response must have been positive, because Hydrant grinned up at Mikumo. Mikumo grinned back.

“I’ll get the ones to the east! Yell if you need my help!” Mikumo proposed.

“Same to you!” Hydrant agreed. He turned his attention back to the three civilians he was escorting, and Mikumo zoomed over to the next apartment that looked to be in Muscular’s path.

The force of the fighting rattled the ground. The force of Muscular’s punches sent wind tearing through the air. It rattled the windows in their panes.

Mikumo entered the building.

Evacuations were hard. He had no way of knowing where anybody was in the building, how many were aware of the fight outside, or how many may need extra assistance—elderly, disabled, asleep. He had to go door to door.

Luckily, he had this nifty Float quirk that let him go really fast!

Also luckily, it seemed like the constant explosions that Kacchan was creating were drawing people out of their apartments to investigate. Mikumo took them down the stairs in twos, then threes, then fives.

Before he even realized it, he was doing a final check, and the building was empty.

Just in time.

CRUNCH! SMASH! SHATTER!

The building was flattened on one side! Mikumo escaped, but the hail of bricks coming down was really scary!

Oh! Kacchan spotted him! He was glaring!

“OI, EMERALD!” Kacchan shouted. “GET TO THE NEXT BUILDING INSTEAD OF WAITING AROUND TO BE FLATTENED!”

“OKAY, KA—RUBY!” Mikumo shouted back. Fountain shot both of them a bewildered glance. Mikumo noticed that Muscular was missing an eye, blood streaming copiously from the empty socket. Looked like some things in this fight were destined to stay the same.

The next building in Muscular’s path was an office building. It was at the end of the street Muscular had been moving down, where the street dead-ended into a crossroads. Hydrant had already started evacuations, so Mikumo jumped in to evacuate the other half of the building.

Muscular was closing in fast. Mikumo started taking civilians straight out the office windows, using Float to soften the landing and propel himself back upwards in an instant.

“There’s another door on your left,” Nana pointed out, helping in every way she could.

Muscular was getting closer. Kacchan’s explosions were getting closer. They had to get all the civilians out of the building now!

Hydrant was rushing. He was using his hydrokinesis to form a waterslide that connected various levels of the building, so Mikumo busted through a window to get inside and guide civilians to the slide.

Muscular crashed into the side of the building. Mikumo clutched the young woman he was escorting to his chest. She screamed. Three explosions went off in quick succession. There was a great crash, like a tidal wave coming into shore.

Silence.

Slowly, Mikumo crept outside, still holding the civilian he had been escorting. She clutched his chest, eyes screwed tight in fear.

Chunks of concrete littered the street, breaching the settling dust clouds like cresting whales. It was a scene that was chillingly familiar, and yet, in the afternoon light, it was almost hauntingly beautiful.

Laughter echoed through the street, and Mikumo relaxed. He recognized that laugh—that was Kacchan’s victory laugh.

“That’s my partner,” Mikumo whispered to the frightened woman. “That laughter means they won.”

The dust finished settling. Muscular’s unconscious body was slumped against the crater he had made in the office building. And standing in front of him, readying a pair of handcuffs, was Fountain of the Water Hose duo.

Hydrant exited the office building, three more workers in tow.

Muscular had been defeated; both the Water Hose survived. Mikumo couldn’t contain his smile.

When Toshinori told him to smile through adversity back in Mikumo’s first year of UA, he probably only meant fighting, right? Because there was no way that Mikumo could smile right now. Absolutely none.

Legal paperwork was the worst. And these weren’t even real legal forms! This was all stuff they had to make up to trick Endeavor!

Briefly, Mikumo realized that the idea of lying to another Pro Hero should probably bother him. It didn’t, though. Maybe because this version of Endeavor hadn’t made any strides to be better to his family yet. He was still a dick.

Mandalay, thankfully, had been receptive enough to their request when they reached out. They were careful to keep it all very hush-hush. According to the fake paperwork Mikumo and Kacchan were creating right now, Todoroki Shouto was being offered the opportunity to do an intensive wilderness training program with a focus on rescue heroics, run by the Wild Wild Pussycats, already known for their outstanding rescue work and success with similar training programs where they worked with hero schools of high caliber, like UA and Shiketsu.

Basically, this looked like an offer that Endeavor would be a fool to turn down.

The real legal paperwork could only be filled out once Todoroki-kun had been separated from Endeavor. Mandalay had been enthusiastic about getting to work with a specific hero-in-training instead of a whole group. Todoroki-kun would have a new legal guardian soon enough.

But first: paperwork.

Ugh.

Chapter Text

The next few months were fucking interminable. Baby Icyhot was now the cats’ problem. That was a good thing. Katsuma and Mikumo talked to some other heroes in Mustafu about suspected gang connections in the sparkly fucker’s neighborhood, so that neighborhood now had increased patrols and more scrutiny. That was also good.

What wasn’t good were all the strides they were making towards stopping the League of Villains from forming. Precisely because they weren’t making any strides.

Twice was a name that had already been on the Most Wanted list for a few years. Magne was also on the list. Dabi wasn’t a name on any list.

Kurogiri and Shigaraki were a whole different can of worms. They might be in Kamino. They also might not be in Kamino. If Katsuma and Mikumo went after them there, AFO doubtlessly had a myriad of other hiding places he could whisk them away to hide in.

That wasn’t a fight they were ready for.

Moonfish, the creepy-ass teeth villain that Katsuma had fought at the summer training camp, was an inmate awaiting the trial that would put him on death’s row. Nothing they could do there; if they warned anyone about the escape he would make in the next couple of years, they’d get shot down as crazy. Whatever. He got re-captured at the training camp anyway.

Spinner was someone they could track down, though. Spinner, and one Sako Atsuhiro.

“Are you okay?” Mikumo asked. His voice always felt extra–soft at night. It was soothing. A light to move towards.

Spinner—or at least, the man that would become Spinner—sat slouched against the wall of the alley they were all standing in.

“What does it matter to you?” he scoffed, turning away from Mikumo’s outstretched hand.

“Oi, asshole! We’re heroes, so it’s our job to help pathetic nobodies like you. If I were in your place, I’d take the fucking hand!” Katsuma barked. That got Spinner to turn towards them again, mouth lifted in a sneer and rage burning at his eyes.

“What, so you’ll only help me because it’s your job? You couldn’t care less either way! Some hero you are!” Spinner shot back.

“Wrong again, dumbass!”

“Ruby! Sir! Both of you, calm down,” Mikumo requested. “Please.”

“What, I should go with you so you can throw me in some homeless shelter where I’ll be kicked out the first time someone who looks normal comes along?” Spinner asked, turning his attention to Mikumo. Katsuma felt the wind leave his sails.

“That’s actually happened to you?” Katsuma asked before Mikumo could. Spinner rolled his eyes.

“Yeah? What, you live on a planet where that doesn’t happen?”

“I live on a planet where the help offered is sincere,” Mikumo cut in, eyes brimming with tears like the emotional nerd that he was. “Please, sir, let’s find you a better life.”

Spinner eyed Mikumo’s hand suspiciously, then turned to study Katsuma’s expression (which was decidedly not teary-eyed). He must have seen something he trusted, because when he stopped searching, he took Mikumo’s hand.

They got Spinner set up with a new job at a local call center that handled a suicide hotline. If there was one heroic trait that Spinner had displayed in the future Katsuma and Mikumo came from, it was his compassion for the underdog.

This had been the villain who cosplayed as Stain. Who believed that heroes should be good. Who believed that true heroes existed.

He would be good at this.

Spinner—fuck, he wasn’t a villain, his name was Iguchi—thanked them both before they left. He told them he was glad there were still heroes that were actually willing to help.

Katsuma wouldn’t admit it, but that felt pretty damn good.

When they weren’t fruitlessly hunting down Twice, Magne, and Dabi, they were usually at the beach, helping Izuku and Katsuki train.

It was weird; this was the one part of Izuku’s life that Katsuma hadn’t seen, the first time around. Now he was fucking supervising.

Yagi was hella weird to be around too, but he was extra weird around the nerd. Ouch. Katsuma avoided that mess as much as he could.

It was fascinating, actually, to watch day by day as the beach got cleaner. It was slow enough that Katsuma could barely notice it happening, actually, until it had been two weeks and all the differences hit him in the face. This was a cycle that repeated itself.

It felt like, suddenly, it was December, and the beach was halfway clean. Izuku had muscles; Katsuki had compassion. Katsuki still only expressed his feelings through violence, but that was probably fine for now.

Twice had been spotted downtown. By the time they got there, he was long gone.

“Hey, what about that sketchy fucking broker? The Giran guy, or whatever? Wouldn’t he lead us right to them?” Katsuma proposed, sometime during month four. Mikumo’s eyes went wide and he dropped his chopsticks, lunging for his laptop.

“How could I forget about Giran—!”

Fucking fruitless. They couldn’t find Giran. He was too experienced with evading heroes, and any other villains that might have had information on him also relied on him for one thing or another, so none were willing to sell out.

So Giran evaded them. Twice evaded them, presumably with Giran’s help. Magne evaded them, somehow, also possibly with Giran’s help.

Neither Katsuma nor Mikumo actually knew how Magne first became involved with the League of Villains, seeing as she died during their first year at UA. Actually, they had only seen her briefly during the attack on the Pussycat’s training camp, and the only reason they even remembered she existed was because AFO used her as motivation for Shigaraki Tomura’s hatred a few times while Mikumo had been eavesdropping via dreamscape.

She had really meant something to that fucking dusty bastard, apparently, which seemed a little weird to Katsuma now, because she hadn’t even been in the League before the attack on the training camp.

But whatever. Katsuma wasn’t paid to care, he was paid to bring in bad guys.

It wasn’t all hunting down the early League members. Katsuma and Mikumo did spend significant amounts of time bringing in bad guys.

Nighttime patrols were typical for underground heroes, and the Gemstone Duo was no exception. They slept during the day, and went out each night to kick ass and take names. Robbers, dealers, would-be-rapists. If something in an alley looked even halfway sketchy, Mikumo was on it like a fly on shit. Katsuma obviously was one step behind him, ready to bring the pain if Mikumo’s nice talk them down strategy didn’t work.

Not to say Mikumo couldn’t bring the pain. One poor fucking sap was probably never going to walk again after he decided to be a creep after dark. Katsuma stood back and laughed for that fight.

Sometimes patrol was extremely interesting. A kidnapping case turned into a brief sex trafficking case, and they wound up working with Eraserhead again during the big bust.

Eraserhead was pretty chill about it, but it was obvious that he had adopted Eri and was barely refraining from telling them all about her growth in the last few months.

Well, he always had been a good dad.

Sako Atsuhiro was the only other member of the League they could reliably track down. He didn’t have a criminal record yet, but all that really meant was that he hadn’t been caught. He seemed to work a normal job, live in a normal apartment, and generally live a normal life.

Ah, but Katsuma knew this fucker. He was just biding his time unto he could snatch unsuspecting first year hero students away from their perfectly fucking effective summer training camp.

Yeah, so what if Katsuma was still bitter? That madcap magician had put the marble Katsuma was compressed in into his fucking mouth. Gross.

Luckily, everyone in law enforcement is paranoid as shit. The Gemstones paid a visit to Tsukauchi, and suddenly they had the family registry of one Sako Atsuhiro.

The family registry that proved relation to one particularly pain-in-the-ass thief.

A little sweet talking from Mikumo, and suddenly there was 24/7 surveillance on Sako’s apartment. Cameras on the doors and windows, a few altered patrol routes from the local underground heroes (including Katsuma and Mikumo), and they had a guaranteed way to know if and when Sako would be approached by the League.

Unless the League approached while Sako was at work, but then there would also presumably be a change in behavior that would give it away.

Too bad they couldn’t just lock him up already. According to Detective Lie Detector, there “wasn’t any evidence” and “that’s illegal, Ruby”. Whatever. It would be safer.

Dabi was still a name that brought no reaction. Either he was very antisocial, or he used a different name.

There had been a few scattered unsolved arson cases on a variety of billboards and other advertisements featuring Endeavor, which was about all the proof they had of Dabi’s existence for right now.

He was a ghost in the wind.

Before Katsuma knew it, Himiko was starting high school, and Katsuki and Izuku were entering their third year at Aldera Middle School.

Things were definitely starting to change.

Chapter Text

At the beginning of their third year at Aldera Middle School, Izuku’s homeroom teacher reminded all of them that they needed to make a plan for their future careers.

He didn’t hand out the career planning forms, though. He said he assumed they were all gonna be heroes.

Well, Izuku was going to be a hero! And Kacchan, too!

That didn’t stop the rest of their classmates from excitedly exploding into a riot of illegal quirk use, each trying to show off what made them unique.

“Alright, alright, settle down, class. You might all want to be heroes, but only two of you have actually declared their intent to try for UA!” sensei announced.

“Who, sensei?” Watanabe-kun asked.

“Well, Bakugou and Midoriya!”

Another eruption of chatter from their classmates.

“Shut up, extras!” Kacchan shouted. “I aced the mock exam! Me and Deku are gonna be the first and only people from this shithole to get into UA!”

That was… nice? Of him? Kacchan had been more protective of Izuku ever since that first instance of Watanabe-kun and Takahashi-kun hurting him, but Izuku still was never quite sure if Kacchan actually viewed him as capable, or if he just saw Izuku’s heroic ambitions as an extension of his own, because they shared a training ground and a sensei.

It didn’t help when he always tacked Izuku’s name on like an afterthought.

“Really? You think Deku is gonna get into UA? How could he even have a chance? He’s totally quirkless!” Takahashi-kun shouted back at Kacchan.

“You’re one to talk! You wouldn’t be able to pass even with a quirk!” Kacchan rebutted.

The shouting from Takahashi-kun's group of friends overlapped so badly that Izuku couldn’t even tell what they were saying.

Mercifully, sensei called the class to order, and the school day quickly resumed.

School let out, finally, so Izuku was free to go home and change and head to Dagobah beach. Kacchan was first out the door, and Izuku grabbed his notebook to follow him.

Or, he would have grabbed his notebook, if a nimble set of too-long fingers hadn’t snatched it off his desk first.

“What’s this? For My Future? Tch, what a daydreamer!” Watanabe-kun fake yawned, as he tossed the journal over his shoulder and right out the open classroom window. Great.

“Well, thanks for your input, but I have to go, actually!” Izuku smiled, turning to leave the classroom.

“Hey, hey, who said you were going anywhere? Right now or in your life, geez,” Takahashi-kun said, blocking Izuku’s path.

“Oh, leave it, Jiro-kun. This dumbass Deku isn’t worth our attention,” Watanabe-kun sneered, heading towards the classroom door.

“I have one last idea for you, Deku. If you want to be a hero so bad that you’re dragging Bakugou down with you, here’s a time-saving idea! Take a swan dive off the roof, and hope you’ll be born with a quirk in your next life!” Takahashi-kun laughed, then followed Watanabe-kun out the door.

He had really—he had really just told Izuku to kill himself! Didn’t he know that if Izuku listened to him, Takahashi-kun could be charged with a crime?

Izuku was familiar with the urge to punch someone, or to send spiders to their house, or to act in other violent ways, but he had never felt that urge so strongly before! What a jerk!

Izuku waited a little bit to make sure that Watanabe-kun and Takahashi-kun were good and gone, then headed downstairs and out of the school.

His notebook had landed in the koi pond. FUCK.

It would take ages to fix all that writing! He might even have to transcribe it into a new notebook!

With some more internal screaming, Izuku shook most of the water out of the notebook, then started on his route home so he could quickly drop off his school things, change clothes, and then head to Dagobah beach.

He had just gone under the overpass when he heard a strange gurgling noise behind him.

“A medium-sized body… to hide in…” someone drawled. Izuku turned to see who was speaking—they sounded kinda creepy!—but they were already on him!

Were they a villain? They were made of sludge, he couldn’t shake them off! The sludge was in his mouth!

“Don’t worry,” the villain said. “I’m just hijacking your body. Calm down. It’ll only hurt for about 45 seconds… then it’ll all be over.”

So Izuku had about 45 seconds to escape or he was dead! Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

The villain was still talking, just muttering to himself. “I’m saved,” he said. “You’re a real hero. I never thought he’d show up in this town.”

Izuku had a pencil and two pens in his front pocket. The villain had eyes when Izuku managed to glimpse him earlier—stabbing anyone in the eye would hurt! It might even make him let go!

Izuku quickly grabbed both pens and the pencil, holding them in a fist. He swung his hand up, stabbing blindly.

“No point in trying that! I’m fluid, you see—OW!” the villain interrupted himself as Izuku’s aim finally hit true. The hold from the slime loosened! Izuku wiggled and pulled with his arms and pushed with his legs—and he was free!

All Might suddenly sprung up from the sewer manhole.

“FEAR NOT, KID—Midoriya-shounen?”

Izuku tried to answer him, but he started violently coughing up the sludge instead.

The villain stared at All Might. Izuku stared at All Might. All Might stared at Izuku in concern for about two seconds, then turned and obliterated the villain with a punch.

“Are you all right, Midoriya-shounen?” All Might asked.

Izuku felt like he had coughed his throat out, but at least he wasn’t coughing up sludge anymore.

“I’m fine, All Might!” Izuku answered.

“Well, good! I’m glad to hear it. You were coughing for a while there, though… I’m guessing he got you, but you got away?”

“Yeah. I used these.” Izuku showed All Might the fist with the pens and pencil in it.

“Well! That’s good—very impressive, actually!” All Might said. Izuku felt himself flush with embarrassment. “Run home and change, then go to Dagobah as usual. I’ll clean up here.”

Izuku looked around at the sludge that was spread across the road. He felt like he should help, but if All Might said he would handle it…

“Okay, All Might!” Izuku agreed. He turned and ran towards his apartment.

Now that the adrenaline had worn off, he had realized that the sludge stunk. Izuku wanted a shower.

Izuku finally made it to Dagobah beach, only for Kacchan to jump on him and wrestle him into the sand.

“Where the fuck were you, Deku?” he demanded, loudly. “Yagi-sensei showed up and said you were attacked by a villain!”

“He was worried about you,” Katsuma translated.

“NO I WASN’T!” Kacchan insisted. Right in Izuku’s ear. Ouch.

“I’m so sorry, I forgot what the date was or otherwise I would have walked you home from school today!” Mikumo-nii cried.

“Well, at least they weren’t on the news this time,” Katsuma shrugged.

“Either way, the fact that you managed to free yourself demonstrates your great potential as a hero, Midoriya-shounen!” Yagi-sensei said, smiling. Izuku pushed Kacchan off of him and smiled back.

“Thank you, Yagi-sensei,” Izuku said.

“I have talked before with Midoriya-kun about how he received my power. Ten months of rigorous training that culminated in a clean beach… you may have had help, unlike him, but you still trained viciously and honed your body into a suitable vessel! Your victory against the villain who tried to suffocate is merely proof that you are ready!”

“I’m ready?” Izuku asked, suddenly breathless.

“Yes!” Yagi-sensei reached up, plucked a strand of hair from his head, and held it out to Izuku. “Eat this!”

What? Izuku stared blankly at Yagi-sensei for a moment.

“Your… hair?” he asked.

Kacchan burst into laughter. Katsuma joined him, but at least he was less rambunctious about it. Mikumo-nii offered Izuku a sympathetic smile.

“Well, you have to ingest my DNA somehow! Eat it, eat it!” Yagi-sensei insisted.

“Ah! Okay!” Izuku yelped. He took the hair and ate it.

So. That was the worst. That was so gross!

On the upside, he had just been transferred One for All!

“When can I use it?” Izuku asked, eagerly.

“It won’t kick in for a few hours,” Yagi-sensei explained.

“And we are going to spend all of those hours here!” Mikumo-nii declared. “Izuku, if you try to use OFA for the first time without me, I will take all of your All Might hoodies!”

THAT WAS EVIL.

“Why would you do that?” Izuku cried out, distraught. Even Yagi-sensei looked perturbed.

“The first time I used OFA, I broke my arm and both legs. I told you about that when we told you about One for All, remember? I want the first time you use it to be under my supervision,” Mikumo-nii explained.

“Should I have Recovery Girl on standby?” Yagi-sensei asked, nervously.

“Hmm. Maybe. Isn’t she really busy though?” Mikumo-nii asked back.

“Like, hella busy. But she’s in on the OFA secret, so she should be willing to help, right?” Katsuma considered.

“This is sounding more dangerous by the minute,” Kacchan whispered to Izuku. Izuku gulped.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I thought I knew what I was getting into, but maybe I don’t?”

“Maybe it would HELP if they told you HOW TO USE IT,” Kacchan suggested. Mikumo-nii turned to them immediately.

“Oh yeah!” he said. “Honestly, I’m so used to it now that I almost forgot what a learning curve there was at first.”

“Is learning curve a new term for broken bones?” Katsuma asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Shut up, Kacchan,” Mikumo-nii replied. “Anyway, Izuku, it’s important to remember that OFA can hurt you. To prevent this, you need to come up with a mental vision that helps you not to hurt yourself. A metaphor you can hold in your mind to remind you not to go overboard.”

Izuku thought about it for a little bit.

“So, like how when you put an egg in the microwave, the egg explodes? So the goal is not to let the egg explode?”

“That’s certainly… a metaphor,” Yagi-sensei muttered.

“Yeah!” Mikumo beamed. Katsuma looked like he was in pain.

“An egg in a microwave?” Kacchan repeated, mockingly. “That’s what you came up with?”

“It’s what I used,” Mikumo shrugged.

“Really?” Izuku asked, perking back up.

“Yes! Besides, you only really need the metaphor until you’ve gotten the hang of regulating your power. Then it comes pretty naturally,” Mikumo explained.

“What’s the point in talking about dumbass metaphors if he can’t even use the quirk yet?” Kacchan asked, irritably.

“Good point,” Katsuma agreed. “Until OFA kicks in, we’re doing drills. Ten laps, GO!”

Izuku left the beach with strict instructions NOT to try and use OFA until the next session at Dagobah. He arrived the next day eager and raring to go.

All throughout the school day, something had been different! There was some kind of energy beneath his skin! It was barely there, but when class got especially boring, Izuku could notice it. He just knew it was OFA!

When he finally got to Dagobah beach, he was extra fidgety from all the anticipation and excitement. Plus, The Youthful Heroine: Recovery Girl was there! He was meeting Recovery Girl! That was amazing!

The fact that he was meeting Recovery Girl because Mikumo-nii thought there was a good chance that he would break his bones soon was a little less amazing, though.

“Okay, how do I start?” Izuku asked. Yagi-sensei smiled widely.

“Make a fist, clench your buttcheeks, and as you punch, yell SMASH!” Yagi-sensei advised. Recovery Girl casually whacked him in the knees with her cane.

“That’s horrible advice,” Recovery Girl said. “Don’t listen to him.”

Yagi-sensei smiled sheepishly. Recovery Girl squinted skeptically at Mikumo-nii.

“Do you have any useful advice?” she asked him.

Mikumo-nii squeaked nervously. “Of course, Recovery Girl-sensei!”

“Please tell me how not to break my bones,” Izuku begged. Mikumo-nii leveled him with a serious look.

“The first thing you have to remember is that you are not All Might,” Mikumo-nii said. “You are going to use OFA differently than All Might does, and that’s okay! So listen close, alright? Are you listening?”

Izuku nodded to show that he was.

“OFA will explode your bones from inside-out if you concentrate it in one spot. That’s going to be your first instinct—to concentrate it in your hand if you throw a punch, or your foot when you throw a kick—but you absolutely can not do that. Instead, spread the power around your entire body and use it to enhance your entire body. Also, lower the percentage of OFA that you’re using. Even if you spread it more evenly, using one-hundred percent is going to break your bones,” Mikumo-nii explained.

“Alright!” Izuku agreed, enthusiastically. Spread his power, don’t use it all at once. He could do that!

“Okay! If you think you can do it, then go up to the ocean and punch the water!” Mikumo cheered.

“Punch… the water?”

“It won’t hurt your hand, and we’ll have visible results in the form of the splash you make!”

Izuku went up to the edge of the ocean. It didn’t feel right to punch the shallows, so he waded in a bit until the water was at a more reasonable punching height—almost even with his waist.

“Try to use less than five percent!” Mikumo-nii advised. Izuku nodded.

He took a deep breath, and threw the punch.

His vision went white around the edges as his right arm and right foot were set on fire. For a few seconds, the pain was all he was conscious of. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t move.

When some semblance of conscious thought beyond OUCH came back to Izuku, he realized that he had hunched over with the pain, and gripped his right wrist in his left hand. He didn’t remember moving. Tears were streaming down his face, but that was less of a surprise.

Mikumo-nii was next to him, suddenly. He placed gentle hands on Izuku’s shoulders, and guided him, limping, out of the water. Recovery Girl was standing at the edge. She reached up and kissed Izuku on the forehead.

Izuku blinked a few times, then straightened. The pain had disappeared, but now he felt like he would fall asleep at any given moment.

“Right, so, that’s what using one-hundred percent in one area feels like,” Mikumo-nii said, a touch sardonic.

“Holy shit, Izuku. Are you okay?” Kacchan asked. His eyes were wider than Izuku had ever seen them.

And—did Kacchan just call him Izuku? What happened to Deku? Was he really concerned enough about Izuku getting hurt that he stopped calling him Deku?

Or—now that Izuku had used his new quirk, was he worth enough to be called by name?

“I’m fine,” Izuku answered.

“Well, I didn’t expect you to do perfectly,” Mikumo-nii sighed. “You broke your arm and your foot, but did you at least get a feel for OFA?”

“He broke his arm and his foot, and you want to know if he got a feel for your damn quirk?” Kacchan snapped.

“I did, yeah,” Izuku answered Mikumo-nii. And he wasn’t lying, either. Now that his arm and foot didn’t feel like they were on fire, he could remember the moments as he wound up to punch. The buzzing that had been under his skin all day at school—it was like his focus had made it coalesce. Like putting pressure on a stubborn door until—pop!—it opened.

“Do you want to try again?” Mikumo-nii asked.

“And have him re-break his bones?” Kacchan shrieked.

“Fuck, kid, you’re giving me a headache. Mikumo knows what he’s asking. Shut up,” Katsuma interjected. Kacchan scowled and pointedly looked out over the ocean.

“What if I break my bones again?” Izuku asked, nervously. That had really hurt!

“That’s why I’m here, dearie,” Recovery Girl said. “Though, because my quirk draws on your body’s stamina, I may not be able to heal them completely! It would be faster than going to the ER, though.”

Izuku took a deep breath, and then another for good measure. He nodded decisively.

He waded back out to where he had been. The buzzing beneath his skin was faint, and almost unnoticeable if it hadn’t been for Izuku’s lack of it in the fourteen years of his life before now. The contrast made it unmistakable. The buzzing. Right now, not using it, he was at zero percent.

Izuku shifted into a fighting stance. The buzzing. He thought about how it had coalesced and almost pushed. He needed it not to pop.

Don’t let the egg explode in the microwave.

Microwaves used even distributions of radiations to excite water molecules in food, therefore causing it to heat up.

Even distributions. Heat. The buzzing.

Izuku carefully, carefully raised the buzzing to the surface. This time, he got to see how red lines appeared over his skin—and as the buzzing crescendoed, stretching from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes—green lightning started arcing around him.

He punched forwards, into the water, and watched it explode outwards in a narrow shockwave pattern.

From one punch.

That Izuku had thrown.

And he hadn’t broken any bones!

“Did you see that?” he hollered, twisting around to lock eyes with Yagi-sensei. He waded awkwardly back to shore, trying to run faster than the water would allow him to. “Did you see that?”

“I saw, my boy!” Yagi-sensei grinned wide. “I was impressed! That was quite a lot of power for one punch!”

“I did it, Yagi-sensei! I used One for All!” Izuku cheered. He impulsively grabbed Yagi-sensei in a hug; but it was okay, because Yagi-sensei hugged back just as hard.

“You did wonderfully!” he agreed.

“That was super cool!” Mikumo-nii exclaimed, crashing into both of them and wrapping them in an even harder hug. “You did such a good job!”

Izuku felt amazing.

Chapter Text

Katsuki couldn’t do anything to help Izuku train with OFA, so he was practicing using his explosions to move through the air. Every so often, Katsuma-nii would call up a tip.

Mostly, though, Katsuma-nii was watching Yagi-sensei and Mikumo work with Izuku. He would call out tips to them, too.

The explosion released from Katsuki’s right hand was too big. He went careening sideways, overcorrected, and landed haphazardly in the sand.

Goddammit! Shit. Get up, Katsuki. Try it again.

So what if Izuku needed more attention right now? Katsuki could practice shit on his own. Izuku just got his quirk, which made him like a toddler.

Also, seeing his bones shatter from the force of his own punch had been terrifying. Katsuki remembered the damn conversation they had about Izuku getting OFA, back when Mikumo revealed his quirk.

Mikumo had apologized, which was baffling at the time. But watching Izuku break his bones with it, the very first time he tried to use it? That shit was terrifying.

Katsuki thought maybe he understood, now.

And, hey, if Izuku was crazy enough to learn to use a quirk that dangerous, he deserved Katsuki’s respect.

He had deserved Katsuki’s respect for a long time.

Katsuki just hadn’t been willing to give it.

He was trying to make up for it now by dropping the “Deku” nickname, but he knew he would have to do a lot more than that to make up for his past actions.

Whatever. All he could do for now was focus on his own training.

Explosion. SAND AGAIN! Fuck!

Okay, Katsuki, stop getting distracted by the damn nerd and the teachers! Try to stay in the air for more than five minutes this time!

“...So, have you put any thought into a costume design yet?” Himiko-nee asked, slowly setting down her drawing pad next to the stack of homework Katsuki was working through.

Katsuki glared at her, then pointedly started on another math problem.

“Oh, come on! I bet I could make your costume super cute!” Himiko-nee wheedled.

“Shut up and fuck off! I have a costume design, and I don’t want to be a fucking cute hero!”

“Please please please please…”

“Just because you got into some fancy art-centric high school doesn’t mean you’re suddenly qualified to make my hero costume! Keep your kawaii couture or whatever over there!”

“Over where?” Himiko-nee asked, cheekily.

Katsuki felt his patience snap. He only had one move left. The ultimate card.

“HAG!”

Squats. Push-ups. Crunches. Lunges.

Stretch to cool down. Drink water. Extra water, because Katsuki’s quirk dehydrated him faster than a normal person.

Morning workout complete. It had been the same since he first learned what a workout was at age ten.

Dagobah was completely different. Katsuki never knew what kind of bullshit Yagi-sensei was going to throw at them next, but he couldn’t deny that it was effective. Katsuki was already stronger, faster, and more precise in a fight.

Yagi-sensei worked with Izuku on technique and predicting opponents’ moves, but it was slow going. Katsuki himself apparently already had “excellent battle sense”, and having the nerd train against him didn’t work because, as with all things Katsuki, Izuku had already memorized his battle tactics and strategies. Katsuki was the one person Izuku could consistently read in a fight, even when he tried to shake things up! It frustrated Katsuki, and stalled progress for both of them, so Yagi-sensei usually didn’t have them fight each other.

However, he did occasionally have them team up and fight against one of their brothers.

Mikumo at least had the decency to try and teach them a little while they were fighting. Katsuma-nii was just a fucking bitch. There was SAND. In Katsuki’s NOSE.

“Oi, you shrimp done yet?” Katsuma-nii called out, smiling meanly, without a scratch on him. In the sand next to Katsuki, Izuku grimaced and powered up One for All.

He launched himself at Katsuma-nii. In a blink, Mikumo appeared, grabbing Izuku’s fist and slamming him down into the sand.

“What Kacchan meant to say was that it’s getting dark, so we’re done for today!” Mikumo announced brightly, landing lightly.

Izuku groaned, muffled by the fact that his face was buried in the beach. Mikumo rolled his eyes.

“Get up, Izuku. You’re not even hurt.”

“Harsh. Maybe stop bullying your brother and get on with what we planned to tell them?” Katsuma-nii suggested. Mikumo smiled at him.

“Right!” he agreed, clapping his hands together. “Kacchan and I have something to announce!”

Izuku groaned again, but obligingly rolled over to focus on Mikumo. Katsuki watched this with no small amount of amusement.

“We might not be around as much, depending,” Katsuma-nii said. “Our schedules are gonna look a little different in the future.”

“Principal Nedzu hired us to help UA students with training their quirks! Because of the way those classes are scheduled, this job is only part time, but also we can’t really predict which days he will need our help very far ahead of time,” Mikumo explained.

“This sounds like a wonderful opportunity for you boys!” Yagi-sensei congratulated them.

“Sounds… very cool…” Izuku panted.

“Ugh… they’re trusting you two devils with quirk training classes?” Katsuki groaned.

“Heh. Unlike you, UA students can actually handle what we dish out!” Katsuma-nii cackled. Katsuki growled, clenching his fists around the sand beneath them.

“Shut the fuck up. I can handle it!”

“Kacchan, Katsuki! We’re done for tonight. Go get your water bottles,” Mikumo ordered.

Grumbling, Katsuki and Katsuma-nii both obeyed.

Katsuki had fucking aced his mock exam, and so had Izuku! It was official: they were going to be the coolest heroes ever!

Weeks ago, the old hag had gotten together with Auntie Inko and planned for them all to have dinner together at the Bakugou household to celebrate Katsuki and Izuku’s inevitable triumph.

“I made katsudon!” Auntie Inko announced, setting it down on the table. It smelled delicious.

Katsuki was pretty damn content, right about now. All of his favorite people were gathered around the dinner table, about to eat a good meal in celebration of Katsuki and Izuku’s recent victory. Auntie Inko sat next to the old hag and the old man, who sat next to Yagi-sensei. Mikumo and Katsuma-nii sat next to him. Himiko sat between Katsuma-nii and Izuku, who was next to Katsuki himself, who was next to Inko.

When Katsuki had been really, really little, he hadn’t completely understood the idea of family units, and how they worked. In the aftermath of whatever had happened with Izuku’s dad, Auntie Inko and Izuku had spent a lot of time at the Bakugou house. Little baby Katsuki had thought they were all one family.

The way that their two families sat, all jumbled around the table together instead of divided by blood, made Katsuki feel like he was living in those nostalgic memories.

“I’m so proud of both of you!” Mikumo exclaimed, visibly holding back tears.

“God, Inko… they grow up so fast, don’t they?” the hag asked, her eyes suspiciously watery.

“It feels like he was just a baby yesterday!” Auntie Inko cried.

“Oh, Inko, don’t sob into your food…” the old man said.

“I wasn’t a baby yesterday!” Izuku protested, face bright red.

“Their progress in their training is truly admirable. I know I haven’t known them as long as you, but I can’t help but be proud of them as well,” Yagi-sensei said, smiling sheepishly.

ALL MIGHT WAS PROUD OF KATSUKI AND IZUKU! YES!

The old hag reached around Masaru to ruffle Yagi-sensei’s hair.

“Nonsense!” she exclaimed. “You have just as much right to be proud of them! Besides, don’t act like you don’t belong—if we didn’t want you here, we wouldn’t have invited ya!”

“Hmm… you might not have been a baby yesterday, Izuku-chan! But you sure are cute as one!” Himiko-nee declared.

“Huh?”

“Say, say, Katsuki-nii is lame, but you would let me design your hero costume, right? Right?”

“Uh, mom is actually going to make my costume for me!”

“Oh? Your mom knows how to make clothes?”

“Uh, yeah! She used to work for Auntie and Uncle, actually…”

“What? Mom, you didn’t tell me Auntie Inko used to work for you!” Himiko-nee shouted, whirling around to face the old hag.

“Eh? What does that matter, brat? She doesn’t work for us any more!”

“Oh, but are you interested in fashion?” Auntie Inko asked. “I admit, I’ve heard a lot about you from your mom, but I barely understand when she talks about your quirk! Is it really so helpful for modeling?”

Himiko-nee, if it was possible, perked up even more. “Yeah! I can shapeshift into anyone I drink the blood of, so my quirk is super useful for tailoring! Or modeling different body types! Or trying a prototype on in different sizes!”

“Tch. Are you hens just going to talk about fashion all night?” Katsuki demanded.

“Kacchan, be nice!” Izuku scolded, shooting a nervous look at Auntie Inko.

“Oh, it’s fine, Katsuki dear! I suppose we should stop—we’re here to celebrate your achievement!” Auntie Inko acceded. “I’m just so proud of you boys. I can’t believe you’re going to be heroes!”

Uh oh. That was… a lot of emotions. Auntie was damn near tears!

“We were always going to be heroes, mom!” Izuku protested, blushing lightly. “It can’t be that surprising!”

“Besides, they let anyone be a hero these days. I mean, Katsuki doesn’t respect anything, and he passed his mock exam? I call bull,” Katsuma-nii teased, nonchalantly.

“HEY! WHAT THE HELL—”

“Katsuki!” the hag barked. Katsuki reluctantly backed down. “And Katsuma, don’t tease your brother like that! He’s put a lot of hard work into this!”

“Yeah, Kacchan, I can’t believe you’d tease your brother like this!” Mikumo fake-gasped, eyes widening dramatically.

“You boys put a lot of work into where you are today. More than I’ve seen many full-fledged heroes put into their efforts,” Yagi-sensei said, softly. “Even if it was only a mock exam, you deserve to have your efforts recognized.”

“Yagi-sensei…” Izuku said, tearing up.

“That’s why we’re so proud of you boys. What you’ve achieved is monumental.”

“Yagi-san is right, boys. Oh, you’ve just grown so much!” Auntie Inko wailed.

“Oi, stop crying all over the victory dinner!” the hag scolded, using gentle hands to instead pull Inko (and her tears) to her chest.

“We are very proud of you boys,” the old man agreed. “But, well, if we don’t all start eating soon, I think this victory katsudon will go cold!”

The katsudon was very good. It might not be the healthiest, but Katsuki could understand why it was Izuku’s favorite. Katsuki definitely could just sit and savor it for a while.

Unfortunately, he was stuck at a table with several people who were incapable of shutting up.

“So, what kind of a hero do you want to be?” Himiko-nee asked.

“Uh, the kind that saves people! Not exactly a rescue hero, but a hero who fights to save people from villains!” Izuku answered, enthusiastically.

“Oooh! Are you going to work in urban areas?”

“Yes! Urban areas have more villainy, after all!”

“Are you gonna have lots of fangirls, Izuku-chan?”

“H-huh?”

“I’ll be your first fangirl, Izuku-chan!”

“Himiko-chan, what exactly are you talking about?” Auntie Inko asked.

“Every hero needs some fans to cheer them on! I’m just volunteering to cheer Izuku-chan on! So I can be there before he even gets famous!” Himiko-nee explained, cheerfully.

“What, am I not good enough to cheer on?” Katsuki barked.

“Eeeeh? It doesn’t count if I cheer you on, Katsuki-nii! You’re my brother!”

Katsuma-nii leaned towards Mikumo and whispered something in his ear. It must have been funny—some kind of inside joke? Because Mikumo fucking lost it and CHOKED.

Mikumo coughed violently, and pounded a fist on the table. He knocked a glass of juice over! Izuku reached out, maybe on instinct, to grab the glass.

He missed. Instead he knocked over his own glass.

There was a big puddle of juice on the table. Juice covered the front of Izuku’s shirt and the front of Katsuma’s.

The old hag burst out laughing. “Good to see it runs in the family!”

“My joke wasn’t even that funny, Deku,” Katsuma-nii sighed.

“I’m sticky now,” Izuku grimaced, peeling his shirt off of his front.

“Ah, both of you boys need new shirts!” the old man noticed. “Izuku, you should be able to borrow something of Katsuki’s—you’re about the same size. Katsuma, for you, I think there are still some clothes in the guest room closet!”

“Isn’t that Himiko-nee’s room now?” Katsuma-nii asked.

“Yes, but I wasn’t sure if you knew that, so I thought calling it the guest room was safer!”

“It’s not like Himiko-nee is a guest. You should call it ‘Himiko’s room’,” Katsuma-nii insisted, though he did stand up to go change.

“Sorry, everybody!” Izuku shouted, before dashing off, presumably to raid Katsuki’s closet. Katsuki just knew that the damn nerd was going to find Katsuki’s one All Might shirt.

Oh, shit, what if he found Katsuki’s one All Might shirt! All Might was at the table with them! That would be super embarrassing! But Izuku was a 24/7 fanboy, he didn’t seem to get embarrassed about things like that! This was a real danger!

“It’s always nice to see that the younger generation is in safe, steady hands,” Yagi-sensei said. He said it so calmly and smoothly that it took Katsuki a moment to realize it had been a joke.

“Are you making fun of me, Yagi-san?” Mikumo joked back, raising his eyebrows.

“Me, make fun of you, Midoriya-kun? Never.”

Yagi-sensei had a sly little smile on his face. Auntie Inko and the old hag burst into laughter.

Katsuma and Izuku chose that moment to reappear in the dining room. Katsuma was wearing an oversized green sweater, which obviously belonged to Mikumo. What a fucking lovestruck dork.

Izuku was wearing one of Katsuki’s skull shirts. It hung on him crookedly, because Katsuki’s shoulders were wider than Izuku’s. For some reason, in that moment, Izuku looked… cute?

Hmm. Maybe that was something Katsuki would have to think about… later. For now, he had a nerd to make fun of.

“You gonna get that shirt sticky too, nerd?” Katsuki hollered. The hag fell into Auntie, laughing.

“Towels! We need—to mop up the juice!” Auntie Inko declared, between gasping bouts of laughter.

“Mom! Stop laughing, it’s not funny!” Izuku protested. Diligently, he did go retrieve some dish towels from the kitchen.

Once the juice was cleaned up, and the adults had settled down some, Himiko-nee gave Izuku a long, considering look, up-and-down.

“Do you like wearing the color black?” she asked. Somehow, she was holding her drawing pad.

Katsuki nearly broke his chopsticks. “HIMIKO!”

Katsuki and Izuku might be going home together from school all the time now, but because of Katsuki’s morning workout routine, and Izuku’s different sleep schedule, they never managed to walk to school together.

This was a good thing, because Katsuki always got there about twenty minutes earlier than Izuku did. There were only a few other assholes that were at school thirty minutes before classes started—or, at least, there were only a few other assholes in the classroom thirty minutes before classes started. The rest of them were in the courtyard.

This was a good thing, because then Katsuki only had a few people to sneer at when he fixed Izuku’s desk.

Katsuki was appalled, honestly, even though describing himself with that word made him feel like a middle aged woman clutching her pearls. Still. The only other word to describe this emotion was probably disgusted.

About a month after Katsuki’s rather brutal change of allegiances from his lackeys to Izuku, he started noticing that Izuku’s desk had black ink spread across the top of it. It started with just one phrase, but then the next day there were two, and the next day three. Recently, the whole top of the desk would be covered in black marker, barely legible through all the hate.

Katsuki, every morning before Deku arrived, would go to the closet which held student-accessible cleaning supplies, retrieve a rag and some bleach, and spend about five minutes wiping away all the vitriol that spilled over Izuku’s assigned seat.

The other few students in the room would glare daggers into Katsuki while he did this, but none of them ever made a move against Katsuki directly. They all knew who would be the victor in that fight.

It was easy to put away the bleach and the rags before Izuku ever entered the school building.

Izuku was going to be a hero. A good one. He didn’t need to see that kinda shit.

Katsuki knew it didn’t make up for the shit he had thrown at Izuku in the past—pushing every button he knew Izuku had, especially the one labeled quirkless and useless—but it felt a little like atonement, anyway.

Katsuki wasn’t a fucking coward, so when he had a question for Katsuma-nii, he asked him after they finished training at Dagobah for the night.

“Hey, that whole heroic spirit thing. If I respect Izuku as a hero, is that different from respecting him as a friend?”

Katsuma-nii tilted his head, then took a deep breath and sighed with his whole body. It didn’t feel like disappointment, though. It felt like Katsuma-nii was trying to keep himself calm on purpose.

“It depends, Katsuki. Do you respect him only as a hero? Or do you respect him as a friend, too?”

“So they are different? Wait, are you saying they’re different, but I can respect him both ways?”

“Yeah. But… Katsuki, it’s not always that simple,” Katsuma-nii said. He gestured to the sand next to him. “Here, sit with me. I can try to explain.”

Katsuki sat. “How is it complicated?”

“It’s complicated because, no matter what, everyone deserves to be respected. It’s just hard, sometimes, to tell apart the different kinds of respect. Or, I guess, what it is that you’re respecting someone for. You can respect someone for multiple reasons, or you can only respect them for one. Sometimes the only thing you respect someone for is the simple fact that they’re human,” Katsuma-nii explained. Katsuki didn’t get it.

“Huh? Why the hell would I respect someone just for being human?”

“What, do you want an example or some shit?”

“Yeah, that might help!”

“Tch. Fine. Take those dumbasses you used to call your friends. You don’t respect them for their actions, or their moral code, right? But you wouldn’t just walk up and attack them completely unprovoked, either. That’s just basic courtesy, or rather, basic respect. The only thing you gotta do to earn that kinda respect is be born,” Katsuma-nii summed up.

“Huh. I guess you have a point… What about other kinds of respect?” Katsuki asked. He clenched and unclenched his fist in the sand, slowly burying it.

“Well, like you said, you can respect someone for their spirit. Maybe a better word is drive. Anyone who’s got that light in their eyes, that kind of fire in their footsteps that says they know what they’re doing and where they’re going—that deserves respect.”

“Heroic spirit, huh?”

“Yeah. There’s more, though, than just that. You can respect someone for their actions. Maybe some kid in your class doesn’t talk much, but they spend their time volunteering at the animal shelter. That deserves respect. Or you can respect someone for their impact. Endeavor is a jerk to his fans, and just an all-around asshole, but there’s a reason he’s the number two hero. He and his agency have the highest amount of cases solved in Japan. He saves thousands of people every year, and defeats hundreds of villains. He works hard at his job, and it makes him a good hero. See, him being an asshole doesn’t prevent him from saving lives. So you can respect Endeavor for the lives he’s saved, while still disliking him for being a complete turd,” Katsuma-nii finished, sneering into the middle-distance of the ocean waves.

“I’m guessing you met Endeavor, and it didn’t go well?”

“Look, I’m just saying, if you meet the man, steer clear. He isn’t someone to emulate in anything but sheer power and technique.”

“Those are both important parts of heroism.”

“Just don’t let your private life resemble Endeavor’s, dumbass!”

“Hey! I don’t even know what his private life looks like!” Katsuki rejoined, letting off a blast in his fist. It sent a spray of sand into the air between Katsuki and Katsuma-nii.

There was a brief, tense moment of silence.

Katsuma-nii sighed. “You can respect people for a lot of different things, is what I’m saying. I respect Mikumo for his heroic spirit, and his work ethic, and his refusal to back down from a fight. That doesn’t cancel out the fact that I dislike his self-sacrificial tendencies, or the way that his mutters get progressively louder as he stops paying attention to reality. And those things don’t cancel out how much I love him, or how fond I feel when we’re both able to relax together.”

“Ugh. Point taken, but I could have done without that last bit.”

“Shut up and digest your life lesson, brat. I had to learn this shit the hard way.”

“What, uphill, both ways, in the snow?”

“Okay, that’s it!”

Eventually, Katsuki flipped his calendar over, and realized it was February.

The UA Entrance Exam was mere weeks away.