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Izuku, for all his newfound confidence, does not expect to change all that much now that he’s a student at UA.
He’s going to be a hero. At the very least, he’s going to try, and he’s going to do it without lying to himself about why he’s trying.
Izuku wants to be a hero.
Getting accepted into UA is the thing that finally , finally makes him believe he can actually do it.
But, well, Izuku has lived his entire life to a set of rules.
He expects them to hold strong, because they are the truths of the universe to him.
(Spoiler alert: they don’t)
-----
Rule 1:
Izuku Midoriya cannot stand up to Katsuki Bakugou without being completely crushed.
(Spoiler alert: He can)
When Izuku is called into the principal’s office with Kacchan, he has to hold back a sigh.
It’s not a rare occurrence, not really. One of the newer students, still young and naive, will see Izuku being exploded and insulted and they’ll tell a teacher, or one of Kacchan’s lackeys will lie and say Izuku started a fight again.
It always ends the same way; Izuku gets detention for ‘causing trouble’ and Kacchan gets off scott-free. He knows, however, that it will only be worse if he doesn’t do as he’s told.
So he drags himself up out of his seat and makes his way down the wretchedly familiar hallways, ignoring Kacchan’s murderous aura next to him.
The smile on the principal’s face, as opposed to the usual disapproving frown, is the first sign that something is wrong.
Then the old man starts congratulating him and Kacchan on getting into UA and Izuku knows he’s in for a beating later.
He wonders if the principal knows it’ll happen. He probably does.
It's strange, how this would’ve made him oh-so-happy to hear barely a few weeks ago.
Now, Izuku can barely pay attention to the words that spew from the principal's mouth; it’s all fake praise meant to butter them up now that they’re moving on to a prestigious school.
Izuku knows it means nothing, and his eyes linger more on Kacchan’s clenched fists than the face of his principal.
Before he knows it- long before he wants it - they are dismissed.
The walk through the hallways is quiet.
Kacchan matches his pace as he hurries along faster and faster, barely resisting the urge to sprint away.
Unfortunately, Kacchan drags him away the second they’re out the school gates, and Izuku is far too tired of this to do much more than sigh and give in to his fate.
Kacchan shoves him against a wall, holding him up by his throat. There are no cameras or people in the secluded little corner Kacchan has brought him to.
Izuku doubts it would change anything if there were.
Kacchan’s hand is tight and hot around his neck, red eyes cruel and angry and his former best friend sneers at him.
“What dirty tricks did you use to get into UA, you quirkless freak?!” The blond yells, making Izuku’s ears ring a little.
“You’re already ruining my backstory! Like you ruin everything else! I’m supposed to be the only one to get into UA from this shitty school!”
Kacchan’s hand heats up more and more, right on the verge of an explosion, and something in Izuku snaps.
Both of Izuku’s hands come up to clutch the arm around his throat, surprisingly steady as he squeezes.
Izuku doesn’t miss the wince as Kacchan’s eyes go wide and the heat fades as shock sets in.
“Are you really trying to tell me the UA administration would fall for some cheap tricks? You think I’d be admitted if I cheated? You think they wouldn’t find out?” Izuku starts, eyes blazing as his grip gets tighter.
“If that’s true, then maybe UA isn’t all that. Do you really want to study in a school that falls for a quirkless freak’s tricks?” He continues, grinning as Kacchan continues to stare at him with a slack jaw, like his world is falling apart around him.
“Face it. I got into UA on my own. Did you hear I got first place? I did better than you, all on my own. Without a quirk .”
Finally, Izuku wrenches the hand off of him, a tingle going through his feet as he lands on the ground.
He lets go, watches as it falls limply back to Kacchan’s side and hopes, bitterly, that he left bruises.
“I’m going to be a hero,” Izuku says, letting years and years of buried anger boil to the surface. His voice trembles with fury and hurt and hatred , tears pooling in his eyes even as vitriol swirls in green.
“And I’m going to be a better hero than you, Katsuki.”
Kacchan- Katsuki- stumbles back as if Izuku hit him, eyes going impossibly wider.
It’s strange, watching him show an emotion that isn’t anger for once.
It’s cathartic, seeing the shattered look on his face, like Izuku had just smashed his entire worldview into itty bitty pieces.
Like Katsuki is finally feeling a fraction of the hurt he’s caused Izuku.
Izuku begins to walk away, leaving Katsuki to process the events by himself.
His head is held high; his steps aren’t rushed, despite the way his heart hammers in his ears and his arms tremble.
The realization of what he’s done is finally setting in, and fear and dread rush back to him, but he refuses to back down.
Izuku won’t let Katsuki win this, whatever it is.
He walks like nothing of importance has happened until he finally reaches the school gates.
From there, he bolts, not stopping until he’s safe inside his own home.
It’s there that he collapses on to the coach, mouth in a wide grin, and lets himself laugh, wild and happy and a touch hysterical.
(If breaking rules was this freeing , maybe he could do it- just a little.)
-----
Rule 2:
Teachers were not fair or good to Izuku Midoriya.
(Spoiler alert: one is.)
Izuku walks into school fully expecting it to go horribly. After all, he may be on his way to becoming a hero, but UA is still a school and he is still quirkless.
He shudders at the idea of how his teacher- a pro hero , his brain reminds him- will treat him; a quirkless student in the hero course.
He shakes his head. He’s in UA. He’s here. He can do this, he can prove everyone wrong and became a hero, even if he has to endure 3 more years of bullying that will almost definitely be worse than middle school, since the kids here were strong-
Izuku takes a deep, grounding breath and forces his thoughts into a corner of his brain, choosing to redirect his focus to observing the pristinely clean halls of UA.
He’s running a little late, although not enough to be concerned about, so there are still a few students loitering in the halls, chatting with their friends or making their way to classes.
He takes it all in with awe, eyes lingering on everyone’s uniform.
He’s in UA. He really made it.
Izuku stops in front of the door marked 1-A, craning his neck a little to see how tall it is.
Probably for accessibility , he thinks, pushing it open with surprising ease.
Immediately, any shred of hope that this year would be different dies as Izuku sees Katsuki (Is he Bakugou now? Izuku’s not sure) in all his immature glory, being scolded by the engine boy that had called Izuku out for muttering for having his feet on his desk.
Internally, he snorts. That’s not even in the top 100 for disrespectful things Katsuki’s done, engine boy , he thinks.
Unfortunately, engine boy- whose name is Iida Tenya, apparently,- begins to make his way over to Izuku, voice booming as he repeats the introduction he’d given to Katsuki just a second ago.
“It’s fine! I heard!” Izuku says, wincing at his own awkwardness. Sue him, he’s not used to people talking to him unless they’re making fun of him. Actually, Iida might just be about to do that. Shit, do his classmates know that he’s quirkless yet?
When he realizes he hasn’t said anything, he quickly sputters out a greeting.
“Um, I’m Midoriya. Nice to meet you, Iida,” Midoriya says, trying for a not-nervous smile.
“Midoriya, you realized there was something more to that practical exam, didn’t you?” Iida asks, giving Izuku a bow. “I had no idea. I misjudged you. I hate to admit it, but you are better than me.”
Iida is complimenting him? Oh my god, how do I respond, Izuku thinks, internally panicking. Technically, it was true, but Iida was so much stronger than him. He had an amazing quirk that was perfect for hero work and great control over it and he was definitely better than Izuku, even if he’d been ranked lower than Izuku on the practical.
How does Izuku tell him that the only reason he’d even passed was just because of curiosity? It’s not like he’d done anything incredible. He’d just… followed the clues. That was all.
Thankfully, a cheery voice interrupts, saving Izuku from having to say anything.
“Oh, that curly hair! You’re the plain looking one!” Izuku turns a little and sees Uraraka beaming at him. “You passed, just like Present Mic said! Of course you did! You took down that huge robot!”
Tentatively, Izuku smiles back, head spinning. This was more praise than he’d gotten in like, a decade.
“Oh, well, um, it was really nothing, I just followed the clues, anyone could have done it-”
“No way, you were so cool! Thank you for saving me, by the way!”
“Oh- uh- it’s no problem, really.”
“Still, thank you!”
Why is everyone acting like Izuku has done something amazing? Why is everyone acting like he belongs? Don't they know that he's quirkless? Shit, Izuku can’t focus on anything. His skin clings too tightly to his body, and he kind of wants to claw it off.
Uraraka is saying something, but the sounds blur together and his brain buzzes incoherently. He can’t hear much more than the rapid beating of his heart and the thoughts that race inside his head, getting jumbled up in his panic. He smiles and nods in what he hopes is a convincing manner, forcing himself to take deep breaths in an effort to calm down.
“--you nervous?” Uraraka asks expectantly, and Izuku almost snorts. Nervous is the understatement of the century, he thinks. He’s about to respond with a vague, yeah, what about you , when a deep, monotone voice interrupts them.
“Go somewhere else if you want to play at being friends. This is the hero course.”
-----
The sun beats harshly down on a once again panicking Izuku. Seriously, he’s about to cry from how overwhelming everything has been. He kind of wants to lie down and just take a nap right then and there. He suddenly understands why their teacher was in a sleeping bag that morning.
Okay, Izuku thinks. This will be fine. I won’t be last in all the tests right? Or did their teacher mean last place overall?
Izuku bites down on his lower lip, worrying it between his teeth. If Aizawa-sensei was taking averages, he was definitely in trouble. Everyone else had powerful quirks to help them, but he had nothing . No clues, no tools, nothing to make up for the gigantic gap that not having a quirk created between him and his classmates.
He understood it, he really did. He’d have to be just as good as the rest of the students if he wanted to be a hero, but he really, really didn’t want to be expelled on his first day at UA.
“Last place will be expelled? But it’s the first day of school! No, even if it wasn’t the first day of school, this is too unfair!” Uraraka exclaims indignantly. Izuku half agrees.
“Natural disasters, big accidents, and selfish villains. Calamities whose time and place can’t be predicted. Japan is covered with unfairness. Heroes are the ones who reverse those situations,” Aizawa-sensei says, his dark eyes slowly moving from student to student, “If you wanted to go talk to your friends at McD’s after school, then too bad. For the next three years, UA will do all it can to give you one hardship after another.”
His eyes stop on a boy with purple balls on his head, and then on a floating uniform- invisibility quirk , Izuku thinks.
He wonders how it works- does light simply move around them or go through the student? Is it transparency or camouflage? No, bad Izuku, he has to focus on his teacher’s speech. “You have no restrictions aside from the rules I explicitly state. You’re allowed full use of your quirks-”
Sensei’s eyes fly over to Izuku, piercing right through him, lips twitching up a little, “-and your surroundings.”
Izuku’s eyes widen as it clicks in his head. Oh. Aizawa-sensei knows he's quirkless. He knows. But he still isn’t making Izuku sit the exercise out or just expelling him right away.
He's giving Izuku a chance to prove that he can keep up.
The way sensei said it- Izuku is fairly certain there’s something he can use to help himself laying around. He just has to find it, like he had in the entrance exam.
Izuku almost laughs. His day has just been one impossibility after another. First his classmates complimenting his performance in the entrance exam, then Aizawa sensei being fair to him and believing Izuku was just as strong as the other students even though he was a teacher and teachers never saw Izuku as equal to his peers- UA was turning out to be completely different from anything he could’ve imagined.
A grin overtakes his face, confidence unfurling in his chest, cutting through his anxiety.
If Aizawa sensei believes in him, Izuku is going to prove him right.
“Go beyond. Plus Ultra. Overcome it with all you’ve got,” Aizawa says, grinning wide and manic, and Izuku finds his own smile widening in response.
-----
Izuku uses the first test, the 50 meter dash, to observe the field and his classmates’ quirks.
The large expanse of land around him is sparsely decorated with a few trees, grass growing in patches on hard dirt. There’s a few piles of bricks laying inconspicuously in the corner. A stool is placed next to Aizawa-sensei, oddly tall and wide. A crow flies overhead, cawing loudly.
Okay. So, not much to use there . He wonders what Aizawa-sensei had been getting at.
He decides to think about it later and instead chooses to watch his classmates do the dash, carefully noting the quirks that would be useful in the rest of the tests. After all, there were no rules about getting help from his classmates.
Well, there was always the chance they’d just reject him if he asked, but Izuku had to at least try . He was already in a tough spot. He couldn’t afford to let go of anything that might help him do better.
Yaoyorozu’s quirk in particular catches his eye; it’s some kind of creation quirk, and god that excites Izuku so much. It’s so versatile, able to be used in basically any situation unless there’s some kind of drawback to it that’s not noticeable at first glance.
In the dash, she’d just made herself some running shoes to replace the school-issued ones, but there were so many other things she could’ve done- Izuku wonders if the reason she hadn’t done something more creative was because of a quirk drawback or just because she hadn’t been able to come up with anything.
He resolves to ask her later on.
Mina’s is pretty interesting too, although she fails to use it very well. It’s some variation of a secretion quirk; she tries to use whatever it is she produces to reduce the friction and increase her speed, but she ends up falling flat on her face and decides to run the rest of the way.
If she’d tried moving like she was skating instead of running, her plan might’ve worked out.
Izuku wonders if she’d hate him for offering that piece of advice, and figures he might as well. It's not like she won’t hate him eventually when she finds out he’s quirkless anyway.
When he does the test, he ends up with a 6.23 second score, over a second less than what he had in junior high. He grins to himself. If Aizawa-sensei had meant last in all eight tests , then Izuku was easily in the clear now.
For the next test, grip strength, they go into a gym and ohhh that’s what sensei meant.
The place is huge, lined with empty bleachers and filled with a lot of equipment that Izuku is fairly sure they’re not going to need. Tall boxes for box-jumps, tennis balls, boxing gloves, you name it- everything is there.
The only thing out of place in the orange-walled room is a closed cardboard box sitting in a corner, half-hidden by shadows.
Curiously, Izuku peeks inside it, and finds a pair of green rollerblades waiting for him.
He smiles to himself and mentally thanks Aizawa sensei for giving him some kind of help. There were a lot of students with strength and speed quirks, so he really needed every advantage he could get. (He was going to ask Yaoyorozu to make some for him when they did the long run anyway, but whatever.)
He does the grip test as well as he can, earning a 57 kg result, and spends the rest of the time they have talking to Mina and Kaminari, who are both easily accepting of his addition into their conversation.
Mina takes his advice well, thanking him with a bright smile that makes Izuku blush from the sheer positivity that it radiates.
Kaminari, he learns, has an electricity quirk, which had probably been ridiculously useful against robots, but wasn’t exactly helping him much in their assessment.
Izuku’s brain whirs with ideas and questions- Can he shoot electricity or can he only produce it around his body? Does it use up his energy? What’s the upper limit for voltage? - but he bites down on them and decides to offer advice instead.
“Well, you could probably mimic Kacc- Katsuki’s explosions if you had Yaoyorozu make really thin copper wires for you. If you hold them in your palms and then send enough electricity through them, they’ll explode and create an electrical shockwave which should propel you forwards, but I’m not sure what kind of effect that might have on your body, or how to control the explosions and such-”
Izuku slams his mouth shut, realizing he was rambling again. Oh no, now Mina and Kaminari were going to get annoyed and leave! Why was he like this? They were going to start hating him before they even found out that he was quirkless.
“That sounds really cool dude! I’ll ask Yaoyorozu more about it,” Kaminari says with an enthusiastic smile, waving and excusing himself. Izuku must have creeped him out a lot for him to want to leave like that.
Mina, weirdly enough, beams at him. “Wow, Midoriya, you’re really smart! And I had no idea you knew Bakugo. You two seem like complete opposites.”
Izuku laughs nervously. “It was just some basic science! And um, yeah, I… know him. We’re-”
Childhood best friends? Bully and victim? Enemies? Rivals?
“Former classmates. We went to the same middle school.”
“Holy shit, your middle school must have been really great if both of the top scorers came from there!”
Before Izuku can laugh bitterly in Mina’s face, Aizawa-sensei interrupts.
“If you’re done loitering, get out of the gym. We don’t have all day,” He scolds, despite the fact that he’s been letting them socialize and go at their own slow paces.
Before he can leave, Izuku bounds up to the scruffy man, giving Mina a quick goodbye over his shoulder.
“Sensei, will the gym stay open throughout all the tests?” He asks innocently.
Aizawa-sensei looks at him with clear approval, something like a smile twitching on his face. “So you found it. Good. And for your information…”
The smile widens into something challenging. “It will not.”
Izuku’s heart sinks, face falling until Aizawa-sensei twirls something in his hand. The thing glints silver in the gym’s light, and Izuku realizes it’s a key.
“You have potential, kid. Don’t disappoint,” the teacher says, slipping the key into his pocket and walking away, leaving Izuku to stare at his back, a confusing inferno of emotions swirling inside of him.
His teacher thought he had potential. His teacher was making this really goddamn hard for Izuku. His teacher thought he could do it anyway.
Warmth tingles, sweet and syrupy, in his stomach. Izuku will not let down the first teacher to ever believe in him.
-----
After a lot of internal hyping-up, Izuku approaches the invisible girl, Hagakure, to enlist her help in getting the key.
In return, he gives her advice on how to get better scores in the standing long jump and the repeated side-step. (He just tells her to take off her uniform and go full invisible, since if she does that, the robot wouldn’t be able to verify her score and that means she can just lie.)
Aizawa-sensei ends up leaving the key on the tall stool right next to him, clearly meant for Izuku to take. Or, well, Izuku is pretty sure that was the intention. What if he was just misreading everything and taking the key would get him into trouble? Oh, but he has to try.
The plan he comes up with is a fairly simple one.
Izuku distracts his teacher by having Shouji, a student with six arms, literally throw him across the jump box.
Well, technically he wasn’t thrown; Izuku jumped, like the rules stated, and Shouji just caught him mid-air and threw him to increase his momentum. It still garnered the same shocked and is-that-even-allowed reaction Izuku had been going for.
It also got him across the sand box, so yay, him.
When Aizawa-sensei’s attention is on Izuku, Hagakure snatches the key away, still invisible from her own long jump.
Carefully, Izuku keeps his attention away from the stool so sensei isn’t suspicious, only allowing himself a small, victorious smile later on, when cool metal is slipped into his palm.
He does the repeated side step completely normally, considering there’s really not much he can do to increase his score. He figures it’s fine, since most of his other classmates don’t have quirks that can help them with it either.
The moment he finishes, though, he sneaks away to the gym. Aizawa-sensei probably sees him, or at least notices his absence, but doesn’t say anything.
Izuku comes back with the cardboard box held carefully in one arm, the rollerblades and a roll of tape tucked inside it, and another, larger box meant for jumping being dragged behind him by the other.
He arrives just in time to see Uraraka remove the gravity of her ball, getting a score of infinity . He wonders how that will affect her overall score.
If sensei is taking averages, how will he divide infinity by anything? Or will the upper limit of the measuring device be considered instead? If sensei takes the score as infinity, does that automatically put Uraraka in first place for good?
“Good questions, Midoriya. The rest of you should learn to ask things like that,” Aizawa-sensei says approvingly. Izuku’s face burns as he realizes he’d said that out loud.
“To answer your question, instead of scores, the average of rankings are considered. So Uraraka getting first in this will boost her final ranking, but it won’t make it impossible for anyone else to overtake her. The ranking process is a little more complex depending on what the averages come out to be, but that is the basic working of it,” he answers with a bored voice.
Izuku stares at him in complete disbelief, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.
His teacher had… actually answered his questions? Without calling him creepy or shutting him down? He’d- He’d praised Izuku for asking. Even though he knew Izuku was quirkless. Okay, now Izuku absolutely could not come last. He was going to stay in this class, if only so Aizawa-sensei would keep being his teacher.
(He was going to stay, if only to let the rules break, just a little.)
-----
Rule 3:
Izuku is fundamentally, irrevocably weaker than everyone else.
(Spoiler alert: He isn’t.)
The knowledge of the ranking system eases some of Izuku's worries, since from what he can tell he has been consistently ranking right near the middle, above anyone who couldn’t use their quirk for the test but below everyone who could.
There is, of course, the problem that everyone has at least one amazing score, which puts him at a disadvantage since he doesn’t, but he should be fine if he keeps getting upper-middle rankings.
“You’re up, by the way,” Aizawa-sensei tells him.
Gently, Izuku sets down his cardboard box, dragging the larger, foam-filled dark blue one over to where his teacher is standing. He hands over the key, and takes the ball, daring to flash a cheeky grin up at the other.
“I’m not going to disappoint,” he says, grabbing hold of the stool and taking both it and his box over to the circle. Izuku lets the firm box settle in the middle of the circle, placing the stool right in the middle of it, and begins to climb up the stool.
He hears various expressions of shock, but he ignores them in favor for carefully testing the stool’s balance.
Thankfully, it holds still even as he shifts his feet. He widens his stance easily, since the top of it is weirdly large. Almost like it was intended to be stood on.
As he’s trying to calculate the angle he should throw the ball at, he hears Iida speak, freezing at the words he says.
“Midoriya is doing rather badly for first place, isn’t he? I wonder why he hasn’t used his quirk yet.”
Izuku forces himself to take a deep breath in, drawing his arm back in preparation for his throw.
“Hah?” Katsuki asks, angrily confused. “What are you talking about, you damn nerd? Deku doesn’t have a quirk, of course he’s not going to do well.”
Izuku brings his arm forward as fast as he can, letting go of the ball when his arm is about twenty degrees above full horizontal.
The ball hurtles through the air until it’s just a patch of white, leaving Izuku with nothing but stinging palms and a trembling body.
They know now.
“71 meters,” the robot chimes.
Izuku feels relief flood through him. That’s over 30 meters better than his junior high score! It’s still nowhere close to the scores where his classmates used their quirks, but that’s fine. Upper-middle is fine.
Silence reigns throughout the field as Izuku drags his box and stool away from the circle, and something in him mourns for the meager social life he’d just begun to have.
He supposes everyone who’d been so nice to him -Uraraka, Mina, Kaminari, Iida- won’t want to speak to him anymore.
That’s fine, it is. What matters is that he gets to stay in the hero course.
“Are they really going to let a quirkless freak into UA?!” Mineta, the boy with purple balls as hair, asks indignantly.
Izuku feels his heart sink inside his chest as he finally makes his way back to his cardboard box, staring resolutely at his shoes so no one sees the tears threatening to spill out of his stinging eyes.
“That quirkless freak could easily beat you in a fight, Mineta,” Mina says, her tone saccharine sweet.
Izuku looks up, dumbfounded, and sees the pink skinned girl smiling at him.
“Yeah dude, don’t underestimate him. Midoriya is like, crazy smart. I thought he had an intelligence quirk or something, but I guess he’s just cracked,” Kaminari adds, and okay, wow, Izuku can’t see anything past the blurriness anymore.
“Midoriya took down one of those giant robots and saved my life. If he did it all without a quirk, that just makes him cooler!” Uraraka cheers.
Tears drip hotly down Izuku’s cheeks, one after the other, his chest filled with warmth as he tries to get himself to stop crying.
They know, and they don’t hate him. They know, and they still think he’s their equal.
He hears frantic words being spoken, but their meaning is lost to him, his head buzzing with too-loud thoughts.
How? How was this possible? He was weak, he was a nuisance, he was creepy, he was less than them and yet- they were defending him, like nobody else ever had. His whole life, he’d thought this was impossible, that his worthlessness meant no one would ever care but-
He made it into UA. He stood up to Katsuki. His teacher thought he had potential . His classmates didn’t think less because he didn’t have a quirk.
Everyone had always said the opposite; his entire life was built around it, around what he’d had reinforced over and over again.
You’ll never get into UA. You can’t beat Kacchan. Your teachers see the useless thing you are and treat you like it. You are less. You are weak. You will never be a hero.
… Was any of it ever true?
It’s Aizawa-sensei’s words that cut through his messy thoughts, accompanied by a warm palm on his shoulder.
“UA has a strict anti-discrimination policy,” his teacher says, his voice monotone but oddly threatening.
“Mineta, detention. Watch your tongue. If I hear any of you discriminating against Midoriya or anyone else, you will immediately be expelled.”
A fresh wave of tears spill from Izuku’s eyes, a sob tearing itself from his throat.
Maybe it was true; maybe it wasn’t. But Aizawa-sensei, Mina, Kaminari, and Uraraka were all willing to pretend he was as strong as they were so- so maybe he could too.
(Maybe he could let the rules break, just a little.)
-----
In the end, Izuku doesn’t get any extraordinary scores. He just skates in the long-distance run and tapes his feet down during sit-ups and tries his best to do well.
When the results come in, it seems like his hard work paid off.
He’s ranked 16th- lower middle. Elation fills him like helium in a balloon, and he feels light enough to fly. He didn’t come last; he won’t be expelled. He’s not the weakest.
And isn’t that ridiculous, that in a class full of people with strong quirks and strong bodies, he's not dead last?
Mineta is the one who ends up in last place. Aizawa-sensei reveals that it was a logical ruse all along, and no one was actually going to be expelled.
Izuku almost laughs- he’s not quite sure he believes it. But, in the end, he’s here. He’s here, and he’s here to stay .
He gets to stay with a fair teacher and classmates who don’t look down on him in a place where he’s not the weakest-
(He gets to let the rules shatter.)
How does the saying go again?
Right- Rules are made to be broken.