Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In some universes, there is this one particular class nicknamed the “Hell Class”. The teenagers in that class have seemingly been cursed with bad luck but blessed with heroic hearts and endless courage. Their high school life, the start of their hero journey, was immediately interrupted by villains and pain. 

Their teacher almost dead, the students wounded. It was a rough start, a rude wake-up call.

That hell class never got a break, from villain attacks to gruesome missions to literal wars. They were in the middle of it all. So when their classmate was revealed to be the target of the villains, they were not surprised.

In some universes they stood beside him the whole time, they fought for him, with him. Class 1-A, who never had the chance to move to 2-A, knew and loved the boy. The Ninth. Izuku Midoriya. Even if some of them laid down their lives protecting the world, standing right beside their supernova, they did not regret. For they were the Hell Class, the kids who never got to be kids. 

But some universes weren’t that kind. In some, they capture and gift Midoriya to the boogie man in exchange for peace. Even if he betrays them in most of those realities.

In others Midoriya Izuku was never the Ninth, sometimes he never made it to age 14. Sometimes he died when using One For All for the first time. Other times he refused it.

But in every universe, like a curse, there was one truth. Izuku Midoriya would suffer, he would be unbearably kind, a heart too big, and a mind too sharp. Sometimes that would be warped into villainy, vigilantism, heroism or simple everyday kindness. 

Midoriya Izuku would always seek out or attract trouble. Help anyone who needed it, meddle whenever he thought it would be needed. And by doing so he would save many, always. But it costs a price to be that kind, to throw yourself in harm's way so often. 

So, like a curse, Midoriya Izuku suffered in every universe. Sometimes he got help, often he did not.

It was a cruel joke, a cruel existence. 

This universe is indeed a cruel one too, as in this reality everything went wrong.

Chapter Text

Izuku looked in horror as Mineta crumbled into nothing. Just some dust that flew away from the slightest wind. The boy had been stupid. Foolish, even. He had seen the villains crumble away their teacher's arm and ran towards them. He screamed that he would join the villains, he would help them, and be a good asset. 

The villain just laughed. He mocked the purple balls on his head and asked him to join them. When Mineta did, when he went to stand beside the handy villain, he was dusted. He was gone. And with just a movement from the villain’s jacket, the remains of the boy disappeared. 

It was horrifying. Terrifying.

Izuku was going to be sick.

And then he heard it, a crunch so nauseating he had to stop himself from blacking out. He forced himself to look, he owed it to his friends, to his teacher. What he saw wasn’t kind to him, it wasn’t nice. It was his teacher, on the ground, bleeding profusely from so many places they all just blended together.

Next to him, he could hear Tsuyu puke. He wanted to do the same.

He wanted to run. He wanted to get away.

What he did, was none of that. No, Izuku was going to be a hero. And heroes could not run away in fear. What he did was run towards Aizawa, towards the mutation with the exposed brain. He could punch it. He could use all the power All Might had given to him. But he would be incapacitated if he did that.

He was doomed.

So, he did the next best thing he could imagine. Pick up a very sharp stick and launch it towards the brain of the bloody thing.

The beast stopped. Just for a while. Regeneration already working on it. The man-child of a villain swore and screamed. Izuku wanted to cry.

He grabbed Aizawa and ran, called Tsuyu to follow and hoped she did. Panicked when he heard the villain (Shigaraki, his memories told him) order someone to get them. A portal opened just in front of them but Izuku stopped just in time.

He screamed at the quirk user. Later he couldn’t recall what he said. Though it did not matter what he screamed, he still got teleported away, just after he pushed Aizawa towards Tsuyu.

The villain was mad at him. He told Izuku that he was standing in the way of his plans, that he was just a useless, waste of space NPC. Izuku bit back that the villain should work on his insulting skills, that he had heard all of those already. It did nothing except make the man angrier.

Shigaraki scowled and puffed, he was a child with too much power and anger. He terrified Midoriya, not because he was powerful, but because he was reckless. He answered to the whims of his emotions. He had no inventions, no ultimate goal, just anger. Hurt. And he was going to hurt everyone in return.

The man smiled, it was crooked and wrong. A smile no one should ever wear, a movement of his mouth that shouldn’t even be allowed to be called a smile. He said his goodbyes and reached out to Izuku, hands greedy.

And at that moment Izuku knew he was about to die. He knew he would leave nothing behind but a crying mother and new classmates that had known him for barely a week. He would leave no accomplishments and no old friends. No fantastic memories. He would die and only take more away, because if he died, One For All died.

Oh, that was almost funny. Izuku thought. That he would not even leave this world without impact, but he would leave and take something extraordinary with him.

Yeah, that was kinda funny.

But he was saved, All Might had arrived and the villain had forgotten about Izuku.

Later, when the cops arrived and they had made their statements, he found out that Mineta wasn’t the only one dead. Ojiro was dropped from too high. He had broken his legs and the villains had killed him off. Apparently, they had laughed about it, said that it was a mercy kill. That it was as easy as killing a kitten. 

Izuku thought he had known pain before that day. He did. He had been bullied, harassed and abused. And yet, at that moment, he thought that his heart was about to rip in two. He was sure that he would never heal, never just be anymore. 

How could he? He was here and Ojiro wasn’t, after all.

Chapter Text

On the day the sports festival should’ve taken place, there was nothing but hurt. There was no joy of teenagers proving themselves, there were no chances for the non-hero kids to work their way up. No heartbreaking fights. No emotional breakthroughs.

It was a silent normal school day. 

Until it wasn’t.

Until Iida got the news. His brother was killed by the hero killer. By Stain. The media announced it before even the family knew. Izuku had gotten the notification first. He was the one that approached Iida carefully. He was the one who took the boy away from their class, to speak with him quietly.

Izuku was the one who showed Iida the news.

He was the one who tried to comfort him. Who escorted him to the teacher lounge, to Aizawa-sensei. He was the one who saw Iida leave school. 

Iida didn’t come back until the internships. He chose an agency in Hosu.

Izuku went with Gran Torino. He learned how to use his quirk. It felt good, the electricity running through his vines. The call of such ancient powers. It felt familiar but new. It felt like hugs. Izuku loved it.

That joy wasn’t long lived though, before long, he was on the train to Kyoto. Just when they passed Hosu a Nomu collided with the moving train. Derailing it completely. Izuku’s vision had spots of black, his neck hurt. People around him were crying, some were screaming. Some were deadly still.

His eyes burned as he looked around, he wanted to cry, he wanted to run. To where he didn’t know. He didn’t see Gran Torino even if the yellow suit should be eye-catching. As the panic started to settle in his bones a shiver of realisation hit him. Iida was there. Iida was in danger.

He jumped out of the train car, leaving the people behind him. Guilt was already starting to eat on his consciousness, nausea hitting the back of his throat. But he continued on. He had to. 

So he jumped around alleyways, rocketing off the walls. Iida was in Hosu. Had he gone after Stain? Izuku didn’t know, he hadn’t seen Iida for long before they left for the internships. But his eyes had been tired. They were dull and deep sunken. But deep inside them, Izuku had seen a fight. An urge for revenge. 

So he sought the alleyways, hopefully, that would be the right choice.

The air was filled with tension and screams. His lungs felt heavy with the smoke of the fires he could see on the horizon. His bones hurt as he upped his power percentage. But finally, there, he saw a glint of a blade. 

There he saw Stain, the man was laughing maniacally, his katana raised. He saw Stain’s katana coming down.

Izuku screamed and he tried to go even faster. But he was too late. Before his very eyes, he saw Iida’s arm get severed.

The boy cried out in pain. 

What followed was a confusing and chaotic fight of quick movements and a lot of luck. Izuku had sent out an SOS text with his location attached. He just hoped someone would come help. That someone would be in the area.

In the meanwhile, he debated Stain. He tried to make clear that no one should be the cop, judge and executor. That Ignium was a good hero. A good man. Someone who was loved. But to no avail. The serial killer remained so certain that he was right, that society was fucked up as he said it. He looked at Izuku with crazed eyes, so certain that he was a worthy hero,  just as All Might, but oh was it a waste that he tried to defend worthless heroes as Native.

Oh was it worthless that Izuku tried to save Native. 

That was what the crazy man laughed as he dodged Izuku's attack. As he flashed through the alleyway, a crazed look in his eyes. His blades out, calling for blood, for a purpose. Oh, it was such a waste. Such a waste that this man was called a hero, Native, what name was that? What moral had this man? He was japanese and yet he paraded with ceremonial feathers of the Natives of America. 

What a waste, Izuku's mind whispered as he looked in horror when Stain slashed the man's neck. What a failure Izuku was, his mind whispered as he realized he just let it happen. He wasn't fast enough, he hadn't reacted when he had to. He had seen it all happen and yet, he could do nothing about it. Bile rose up in the back of his troath. Disgust filled his body, the smell of blood punched his senses.

And yet, even with the literal corpse, fresh and still warm, Stain kept attacking him, slicing his arm deeply and he savourly licked his blade. Izuku felt his body freeze. His felt how his limbs locking in place, the function of his body slipping away from him. It was strange, as if all his limbs had fallen asleep but instead of that weird static feeling… there was nothing. 

He was defenceless. Totally open for everything the serial killer wanted to do with him. Perhaps he would slice off his arm as he did to Iida. Perhaps he would pierce his heart as he did to Tensei. Or behead him, as he did to countless other heroes.

Izuku didn’t close his eyes as Stain raised his katana. He glared up at the man who was so delusional he thought he was a god. Deciding who deserved to live and die.

He didn’t close his eyes when the katana came down.

He had his eyes open when the katana froze in the air. When it got encased in beautiful, sparkly ice. He saw how Stain jumped away and how Todoroki arrived. His duo-chrome hair shone in the streetlights. 

“Midoriya. You need to give me more details in times like these,” he raised his phone, “You made me late.”

“Todoroki!”

They fought together as a team. Not a well-oiled team, to be fair. They had never fought together. Hadn’t even fought against each other. And yet, they had to beat Stain. Not only for Iida but for themselves. For every victim, Stain has ever made or would make.

Somewhere in the chaos, Todoroki hung back, quickly cauterizing Iida’s arm with clunky and uncomfortable fire. He had lost a lot of blood. It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t nice. But the job was done, albeit, badly. And Todoroki could get back to the fight.

The fight felt like it had been going on for hours while in reality, it was maybe a few minutes. It was exhausting, mentally and physically. Gruesome and aggressive. But after a while screams for Todoroki could be heard from outside the alleyway. 

Stain, accepting that fighting them was a lost cause now, left just as a few pro heroes ran into view.

Later Burnin, a sidekick of Endeavour, had to tell her boss what she saw when she arrived. She told him with wide eyes how she saw Native laying against the wall, dead. His head was only partially attached. An unconscious teen she didn’t know was on the ground, blood around him, his arm detached from his body. Todoroki, wounded and tired, slumped against the wall. Another teen she didn’t know, blood streaming from his arm and down his face, fussing over the former teen.

And no serial killer.

One pro-hero, dead. One teen, a kid , permanently disabled. Two teenskids who had to spend a week in the hospital. And no one in jail for it.

Burnin had seen worse. She had seen plenty of civilians dead, killed brutally by villains. She had been too late in plenty of situations: hostages, human trafficking. So much. 

And yet, this would haunt her just as much. Perhaps more

Because later, when she attended Native’s funeral. When she saw Iida, the little brother of the late Ignium, with a bionic arm. When she fought next to Todoroki and Midoriya. In those times she saw them back at that alley, tired and so close to defeat. But when she blinked and shook that image away, nothing really changed. Her life and more importantly, the life of these kids , would never be the same again. It would never be normal again. And she was in the first row to see it happen.

In those times she wondered, would their life be just a tad bit easier if she was quicker? 

Would they have had a chance to win the war if Stain had been caught, if he had killed fewer heroes?

If she had run faster, could she somehow have prevented the future where that kid had to give up everything? Could she have created a future where that kid could stay? Where he wouldn’t have to go to a place where no one could relate to his experiences, to his reality.

Later, she would lay in her bed as the world outside her window imploded. She cried as her building was set ablaze. But after all those years, only fighting and suffering, she thought it was a good ending.

For now, though, she checked the pulse of Iida. She talked to Todoroki and a boy called Midoriya. She asked what happened. She tried to hide her horror as she heard their story.

For now, this was only the second horror these kids had gone through. Perhaps not even the worst thing they have seen and done. Perhaps one of the easiest things they will do for years. For the rest of their lives.

But now, the green-haired kid smiled at her, saying he was okay. Just before falling to the ground, unconscious.

Chapter Text

The final exam was brutal. 

Izuku sat on a hospital bed, his face in his hands, he was breathing deeply. In... and out. In.... and out. In and out. He was slightly shaking and a feeling of nausea was hitting the back of his throat.

Sure, he had just lost against All Might. And he had to endure the disappointed stare of his mentor, who just left without a word after the fight was over. But that was his fault, wasn’t it? He had failed to cooperate with Bakugou and now they lost. It’s his fault. It’s fine.

Sure, Bakugou had punched him so hard that he broke his jaw and nose when all he did was try to make up a plan. They hadn't even gotten up to the plan, only a single word had set the boy off. Resulting in the quirk-powered punch to the face.

And yeah, he also got a small concussion, so thinking clearly wasn’t that easy. Not now, not back in the fight. But he knew that would happen! He knew Bakugou after all, so it’s fine. All of it is fine. They just lost their chance to go to summer training camp. No problem! He was fine! It wasn't as if he still had rather poor control over his power and he needed all the opportunities and help to get any better! Not at all! It was fine. Just dandy.

Sure, he was beaten and broken at the moment. His arm was in a cast and the lights were turned down to help his concussion. But it was fine, he could deal with that. It was just a broken arm. And jaw. And nose… He let out a shaky breath and had to try his best to keep the tears at bay.

It was fine.

All of it was fine, he could cope with it.

He took a last deep breath and looked up from his hands, “Okay, Izuku, you can do this. Just go on as if nothing happened,” He muttered before plastering a smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes, “You’ve done it before.”

When his friends came to check up on him he smiled and laughed, their concerns weren't needed he said. He was just fine! Recovery Girl had healed him up quite nicely! No, he wasn't in pain. He couldn't even feel his wounds! Just fine, he was just fine!

They sighed in relief and told him about the fights he had missed, even giving him notes they had written especially for him.

Izuku cried over the gesture, clutching to the notes as if they held all the secrets of the universe.

Yes, all of it was fine. Izuku was fine. He could do it, he had done it before. And now he could do it even better because this time he would have his friends. He now had people he loved and they actually loved him back. 

And as long as he had them, he could do it.