Chapter Text
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen—we’re ready to kick the third round off right!” Present Mic let the howl of the crowd go on for a moment before taking the lead once more. “We’ve got one hell of a brawlout for you fine folks, and there’s not a moment to lose! Let’s give it up for all of our fabulous competitors, from all across the UA classes!” Another roar echoed from the crowd—Mic couldn’t help but laugh happily. God, I love my job. “Eraser, how about you introduce our first matchup? I know you’ve had your eye on one of our Little Listeners in particular!”
“You could say that,” Eraserhead—extremely begrudgingly—admitted. He watched as two young students approached the battle arena—one, a young woman with long, black hair tied up in a ponytail, sporting a red tank top, a pair of shredded jeans, and sandals; the other, a more scraggly-looking boy with untamed, viridian hair, wearing a green duster coat—buttoned at the middle—, a dark shirt and slacks combination, and magenta dress shoes. “Arriving on the field are the two champions of the opening rounds of the festival. Please welcome to the field the winner of the Cavalry Battle, Yaoyorozu Momo—” A large round of applause, some whistling, a ‘We love you, Momo!’ from her classmates. The Pro Hero braced for impact. “—and the winner of the obstacle course, Izuku Midori—”
A horrific, toxic air filled the arena, as boos rained down from above—alongside drink cans and half-eaten food, all of which was thankfully caught by the forcefield around the arena. Yaoyorozu seemed like she wanted to be anywhere else, but she wasn’t the subject of the crowd’s ire; the problem child who was, however, seemed to take the audience in stride—though Eraserhead could make out his tense body language. “I’d like to remind the viewing and listening audiences today that if anyone has any issues with our competitors’ abilities—or ostensible lack thereof—to keep quiet until you see the end results of the match,” Eraserhead added, a glow of his red eyes piercing through the crowd even from the relatively distant announcer’s box. “Underestimate those who made it this far at your peril.”
Despite this, a smattering of boos arose, and a very distinct chant from one corner of the arena in particular:
“Quirkless, go home!”
“Dad, is he going to be okay…?”
“He’s not the same kid we met last year, Melissa. You believe in him, right?”
“Of course.”
“Then it’s going to be fine.”
“...yeah. You’re right, old man. Sometimes.”
“Hey, now! When did you get a rebellious streak?”
“...Mic,” Eraserhead asked, “Would you be so kind as to—”
“Already on it.” Mic sighed. “Some people. Hey, Little Listeners! If you’re under the age of eighteen, have mom, dad, big sis, big bro, or whoever you have box up your ears—and that goes for all our sponsors, too! This is a one-time special request from my best pal—good little boys and girls of all ages shouldn't hear this!”
“'Best pal?' We’re married.”
“Still accurate!”
Mic cleared his throat.
The smart ones in the audience followed instructions.
The others were about to learn why.
“In three, two, one.”
“Shut the fuck up and let the kids fight!”
The chants came to a sudden, groaning end.
“Thank you,” Eraserhead drawled, “For your cooperation.”
Down on the field, Midnight pinched the bridge of her nose. “I swear, they’re bad influences on each other…”
“I-I am so, so sorry for how this day seems to be turning out for you, Midoriya,” Yaoyorozu apologized. “I didn’t realize that my question would lead to such… vitriol. ”
“Eh. I can’t say it doesn’t hurt, but it’s not worth giving them the reaction they want.” Midoriya smiled, sincerely, as he held out a hand. Yaoyorozu took it, shaking it amiably. “I appreciate the thought, though. I’m sorry I haven’t answered you yet—but I can once the match gets started, if you’ll allow me the time. Something of a mission statement, you know?”
“Of course. I don’t mind lending you the stage.”
Midnight, keeping her mic away from her face, squealed. “You kids’re gonna rot my teeth out with how sweet you are! But, we’ve got business!” Moving the mic back into position, she called out, “Remember, this is a clean fight! Anything goes as far as your own abilities and support items, and even a few dirty tricks, but no going for anything fatal! If you step one millimeter out of the ring, or reach the barrier, it’s an automatic disqualification! If you want to surrender, hold your hands in the air for three seconds straight! Am I clear?”
“Yes, ma’am!” The students echoed.
“Great! Take your marks, now!”
Stepping to the opposite ends of the ring, the two took their starting stances—Yaoyorozu struck a defensive pose, while Midoriya…
…kept his hands in his pockets.
Is he hiding something there…? Yaoyorozu kept her guard up, intending to keep to her promise even as Midnight held up her flag.
“Annnnnnnnnd… begin!”
The crowd roared once more, though to Yaoyorozu’s dismay (and her counterparts’ in the announcer’s box), the boos began to filter in once more. Whatever you have to say, Midoriya, you must make it quick—before they decide they don’t want to listen.
Midoriya closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Yaoyorozu,” he asked, loudly—his eyes locking onto her own. “What does it mean to be a Hero?”
“Huh?” Yaoyorozu blinked. “Weren’t… you going to answer my question from—”
“It’s related—humor me for a moment, please.”
“Oh. Well…” Yaoyorozu let her guard down briefly, racking her brain for an answer. “I suppose… It means protecting those who cannot protect themselves. To protect the innocent from harm, and to uphold justice.”
“Is that what you believe—what your entire class believes?”
“...for the most part, give or take,” she said, trying not to stare directly at a certain classmate in the stands—though she could already tell Bakugo’s eyes were boring into her skull for daring to humor Midoriya. What is their connection, anyway?
“...good to know,” Midoriya replied, taking his left hand out of his pocket. He sighed, glancing up toward the sky. “I suppose, then, that I wouldn’t qualify to be a Hero, even if I won here—but that might not be so bad.”
“What?” Yaoyorozu raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“To me, Heroism is…” Midoriya put his free hand to his chin. “Well. It’s taken me some time to get to this point, but I’ve come to realize that Heroism is whatever people claim it to be, for whatever purpose they need it to serve. Peace, justice, righteous fury, indignant rebellion—there’s no one definition of Heroism… unless you’re trying to be a Pro. Then, it’s exactly as you described it. It’s the job description, basically.”
“Hey,” someone from the crowd called out, “Shut your fucking mouth! We came here for action, you Quirkless brat! Stop philosophizing and get your ass kicked already—”
“Let the listener talk!” The heckler yelped, Present Mic’s voice ringing across the crowd. Midoriya gave a thumbs up to the booth as Yaoyorozu boggled at his answer.
“A-are you saying you wouldn’t endeavor to protect others?”
“Of course I would,” Midoriya insisted. “But that’s because protecting people is a part of who I am. Being a ‘Hero’ has nothing to do with it.”
“Tell me, then.” Yaoyorozu took her stance once more. “If you can’t be a Hero in the same way I can, then tell me why that is—why you even bothered to be here today.”
“It’s the answer to your question, Yaoyorozu: ‘Why do you fight, despite having no power as a Quirkless?’ Not the nicest way to phrase it, but I figured you deserved an honest answer.” Midoriya pulled his right hand out from his pocket, using his left to unbutton his duster. “I don’t fight despite having no power. I have plenty of it— power, that is.”
Yaoyorozu scoffed. “Strength alone will not avail you in this battle.”
“I’m not talking about muscles or might.” Izuku chuckled. “I know some people who’d disagree on both counts. I’m talking about the power of human ingenuity, the power of bonds, and the power of people coming together to protect that which truly matters.”
“And just what might that be?” Yaoyorozu asked, as the crowd—more restless than ever before—began to scream and shout into the arena.
Izuku closed his eyes, taking in the fury of the crowd as it surrounded him. “The thing that allows for peace, justice, righteous fury, and indignant rebellion; the one thing the Quirked and Quirkless alike share, no matter their might, no matter their circumstances, no matter what they have or lack. The one thing that is a universal constant, despite those who intend to lay it low…”
He threw his duster open, revealing—
“A support item?” Yaoyorozu murmured, looking at the odd device. It reminded her of Aoyama’s belt, except rather than a simple device with a circular divot in the middle, it had various odds and ends attached to it—including what appeared to be a thin, rectangular slot attachment on its right, with a window in the midsection. He didn’t show this at all during the other rounds. Was he using this to gain an advantage…? No, he would have had to declare its usage to the judges. What’s going on?
Midoriya revealed what he had been hiding in his right hand:
A small card, made out of thick paper stock. On the back was a logo of a small, rabbit-like mask, and two words:
MASKED RIDER.
“...and that would be human freedom.”
“That’s it, Izuku, baby! You got this!”
“Hey, Leia-buns, keep it down. I can’t hear how much the crowd is losing their shit over your screeching.”
“Lay off her, Wrinkles. Let her have this.”
“Hey, who ate all the chips?”
“Not me, pal!”/“Absolutely me, Lizardbrains!”
“Oh, he’s grown up so fast. A little darling, isn’t he?”
“He learned that duster trick from me , you know.”
“Refills, anyone?”
Yaoyorozu blinked. “What…?” Human… freedom, he says?
Midoriya struck a pose, sliding the card between his fingers and giving it a grin. “Now, then—let’s make this happen!” As he flipped the card forward, Yaoyorozu could make out the familiar smile of All Might beaming back at her.
A trading card?
“Transform!”
Sliding the card into the attachment on his belt, Midoriya spun the attachment into the windowed center, the entire device suddenly lighting up in an electric shade of green. A peppy, female voice called out—
“HERO UP!”
The green glow spread to Midoriya, splitting his very form with unnatural, sickly green veins—from which something more elastic began to spread, attaching his duster to his body directly. The coat itself began to reshape around him, taking on a jumpsuit-like appearance, and his pants and shoes started to morph into armored padding and battle boots. A similar metamorphosis occurred on his wrists, with a pair of white, brass-knuckled gloves seemingly appearing from within Midoriya’s hands themselves.
“It’s now or never, it’s up to you!”
A hood flipped up from the back of the duster, covering Midoriya’s face as a familiar pair of ears flopped into view. A metallic mask slammed into place from within the hood, covering Midoriya’s face in an instant; the green glow spread to the mask, settling into the appearance of eyes and a grin—as if made in an old, pre-Quirk era computer.. The ears sharpened, becoming more angular and steel-like in texture.
“Fight, Masked Rider…De! Ki! Ru!”
The glow faded from Midoriya’s body, and as if it were a valve releasing pressure from within, a powerful burst of steam erupted from where the student stood. Yaoyorozu was grateful she had returned to her stance—otherwise, she could well have flown right out of the arena.
The oddly silent arena.
At least, until Present Mic remembered he had vocal chords.
“W-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-whhhhh AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?! ” Present Mic screeched; his following words half-muffled by what Yaoyorozu could only presume was Eraserhead’s hand over his partner’s mouth. “Am I seein’ things?! Lil’ Midoriya has another trick up his sleeve?! What’s with the light show, and the getup?”
“You’d be an idiot if you revealed your trump card at the start of the competition,” Eraserhead pointed out. “If you’d been paying any bit of attention—and this goes for anyone who missed it—he’s had that thing all day, in standby, waiting for this moment. He told me so himself.”
“Then why didn’t you say anythin’?!”
“The problem child made a compelling argument.”
“Which is?!”
Eraserhead’s grin was feral. “It’d make a splash.”
“...I’m so proud of him.”
“You should be, Ma’am. You did well in raising him right—I only wish I could say the same.”
“Oh, hush. He thinks the world of you.”
“I wish he didn’t. Perhaps if that were the case, or if I were less callous—”
“The past is the past. Let’s look to the future, shall we?”
“...of course, Ms. Midoriya.”
“Attention, people of UA—no, people of Japan— no, people of the world! ” Midoriya, at long last, took his battle stance: his knuckled fists, bared and ready to rumble. Yaoyorozu could see, even behind the mask, the determination in his eyes. “Whether you need a hope to believe in, or a light to guide the way, I’m the hero who can do it all! I…
“Am the Masked Rider, Dekiru!”