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“What is he doing here?” Izuku asked, in the door, staring at Ka- no Bakugou across the room. He would never be Kacchan again after what he’d done to him.
“What do you mean, Deku?” Bakugou asked, Izuku flinching at the name, even after five years. “I’m training to be a hero.”
He felt a figure stand behind him and turned to see Eraserhead glowering at him. “Get inside or leave. You’re wasting my time,” he said. Izuku stepped inside, letting the hero - his new teacher - inside behind him, but he didn’t go to his desk, right behind Bakugou if he saw correctly.
“What is he doing here?” Izuku demanded, turning to face his new teacher.
“He’s a hero student, just like you. Now sit down. One more word against him, and you’re expelled for bullying.”
“Bullying?” Izuku’s voice started to grow manic. “You want bullying? How about this?” He turned, letting the class see the burn scar that covered almost half his face.
It was red and shiny, with stretch marks extending radially from around his eye, which was entirely a milky white. The skin seemed almost shrink-wrapped to his face, his cheek sunken, his unseeing eye almost pulled closed, and all hair around it burned to the root. And as he turned, it revealed even more. Half the hair on his right side was burned off, leaving only blank scar tissue, his ear barely more than a hole on the side of his head.
Several of his classmates gasped as he continued to speak. “He did this to me, and he’s still being let into the top hero school in the country. I doubt there’s even a mark on his record. Instead, I, the quirkless helpless weakling, was expelled for starting fights.”
The class started whispering to each other, but one of them in particular drew his attention. A boy sat silently in the back row, just staring at him, hair split red and white, and a massive burn scar over his right eye. Endeavor’s youngest son, Todoroki Shouto.
“So, would a hero do this? Would you let the person who maimed me, burned me, blinded me, be a hero?” He gestured to his scar, breathing heavily after his tirade.
“Yes,” said a voice from the back, quiet but firm. “They would.”
Izuku turned to the source of the voice, Todoroki.
“Because they have.”
The class turned to stare at Todoroki, now standing at his desk.
“No one questioned when the Number Two Hero’s eldest son died in a forest fire in the middle of winter. A fire so hot that it turned the nearby trees to ash. The old man can’t do that, so why did no one question that his 13-year-old could? And now, no one remembers he ever existed.”
“Todoroki-” the girl to his right started, but he didn’t even seem to hear her, the anger on his face the first emotion he’d shown. He strode to the front of the class, joining Izuku to face their teacher.
“No one questioned when the Number Two Hero’s youngest son, his masterpiece, got a burn scar on his face at five years old. Or why the only children he ever talked about were also the ones he only talked about their training and heroic potential. No. They just cooed about how much he cared about his children and how the Number Two Hero was such a family man.
“So yes. They would let him be a hero. They’d let him be the Number Two if he did that to enough people, so long as he could claim they were criminals.”
A girl with short dark hair and audio plugs hanging from her ears stood up. “If that’s what it means to be a hero, then I don’t want it.” She joined Izuku and Todoroki in front of the class, dumping her blazer in front of their teacher. “I’m done.”
One by one, the rest of the class joined them, all dumping their blazers in front of their teacher until only Bakugou remained. As the rest of the class walked out the door, Izuku hung in the doorway, the last one with his blazer on.
“Looks like you will be Number One,” Izuku said, pulling off his blazer and crumpling it in his hands.
The blazer soared across the room with perfect aim, hitting Bakugou square in his right eye as Izuku turned and left the room, two words hanging in the air.
“Congratulations, Kacchan.”