Chapter Text
Shouta Aizawa wanted to quit.
Never mind the twenty students he’d be leaving behind, never mind the generous paycheck Nedzu always gave him to make him stay (though that still didn’t stop him from asking for a raise - babysitting 20 kids was hard, after all), never mind that he had a soft spot for his class in one tiny little corner of his pitch-black heart, SHOUTA WANTED TO QUIT.
This was the third time he was making his way to his class without his usual three cups of coffee in the past week and he has had enough. If U.A couldn’t even maintain one coffee machine, Shouta saw no reason to stay.
He needed his caffeine. Especially when it came to dealing with the chaos his current class had a tendency to bring on a daily basis. There were always the usual suspects– students he dubbed as ‘problem children’, each one managing to increase his workload without much effort– Katsuki Bakugo, with his always explosive attitude and a mouth that should probably be rinsed off with soap, Shoto Todoroki, with his stubborn refusal to use one half of his quirk (a fact that Midoriya always took advantage of), Ochako Uraraka, who had quite the suspicious quirk awakening at the entrance exam, and of course, Izuku Midoriya, the quietest kid in class.
He paused at the door of class 2-A, eyeing his students from outside the window. He could hear the shouts and cheers as the more extroverted students in his class laughed, he could see even the quieter students talking with each other, forming their respective groups. Even Todoroki, who’d declared he wouldn’t make friends at the beginning of the course, had been roped up by Yaoyorouzu into her group. The only person who wasn’t a part of any of the shenanigans going on was Midoriya. He was sitting quietly in his seat, reading a book.
Shouta didn’t mind him being quiet. There were a lot of unique personalities in his class and he himself didn’t like to speak more than necessary. What he did mind though, was Midoriya’s quirkless status and his attitude.
Contrary to popular belief, Shouta didn’t judge the capabilities of a student by their quirk-or lack thereof. If Midoriya could fight against his students who made full use of their quirks on an equal footing, (which he had proved on several occasions he could) then Shouta didn’t mind having him in the hero course. The kid had skills even full-fleshed heroes would be envious of.
The reason he minded Midoriya being quirkless was because of what was associated with that status. Shouta had no problem admitting that the current hero society was bullshit and the way they treated quirkless people frustrated him to no end. Almost half of his cases usually revolved around discrimination and the images each case painted always made him see blood. When he first saw the application of a quirkless student for the entrance exam, Shouta was prepared to see the news headlines reporting another suicide the next day. That was the reason he spent the entire night patrolling, going even as far as to change his route to the most popular suicide spots.
But when nothing happened that night, and when Nedzu called him early next morning to report to the principal's office with a maniacal cackle so loud it burst his eardrums, he did not expect the tallied scores of the very same quirkless student to be at the very top.
Blood roared in Shouta’s veins and the largest shit-eating grin spread on his face when he saw– ‘FIRST PLACE: MIDORIYA IZUKU.’ Nedzu’s Cheshire grin wasn’t far behind, the same devious smirk enveloping his face that usually gave Shouta nightmares.
“He’ll be in your class.” Nedzu had said, “Nurture him well, Aizawa.”
And Shouta had agreed. He wanted to see how far the kid could go. He was also prepared to help with the trauma he was sure Midoriya would have as a quirkless child. It was lucky he survived this long, most quirkless children can’t. It was the sad, dark reality of a system that only valued strong quirks.
But all his preparation was for naught when Midoriya came to class. His behavior was a complete opposite of what Shouta had imagined. Instead of a fearful, anxious kid, Shouta saw a hero student whose confidence was borderline arrogant. Where there should have been countless insecurities about being quirkless and not amounting to anything– there was a silent acceptance of his status. It both pleased and confused Shouta to how Midoriya was so comfortable with being quirkless, seeing it as an advantage rather than a liability.
And then there was his class performance: His written scores were always perfect. His combat abilities were polished to perfection with a combat style that incorporated several martial arts- a fighting style he made himself (which, in Shouta’s book, was an amazing achievement). He excelled in the rescue exercises and could hold his own in combat as well. It was as if he had a lot of experience fighting against destructive opponents… Shouta didn’t go down that line of thought for several reasons.
The point was, Midoriya was an exemplary hero student… only on the surface.
His attitude towards his classmates raised several red flags. No matter how friendly the rest of the students behaved, he never acknowledged them. His eyes were always cold, cutting through any student who approached him like a dagger slicing through the air. There was this…polished air around him, (at least, that’s what it felt like to Shouta) that already made him feel unapproachable. When he didn’t acknowledge any attempts to be friends, he became the most unpopular kid in class- a pariah. The level of dissociation was concerning.
There was only one student– As Shouta observed her walking to Midoriya’s desk– that could hold normal conversations with Midoriya outside of team exercises– Kyoka Jiro. Their relationship was a strange one and Shouta could only hope the girl would be able to steer Midoriya out of the hole he had dug for himself.
Yes. It was glaringly obvious that Midoriya despised heroes and the current system. It showed in the way his eyes would always cloud in disgust at the mention of hero rankings, and them doing publicity stunts. It showed in the way he rarely acknowledged most heroes, including his teachers, Shouta, Nedzu, and Nighteye excluded. (Shouta supposed the work-study at Nighteye’s agency was responsible for that. The Shie Hassaikairaid had been a particularly memorable one, after all) It also showed in the way Midoriya openly glared at All Might whenever he saw him.
Shouta had never seen any kid hate the no. 1 hero with as much passion as Midoriya did and he would give up his sleeping bag without hesitation to know the reason. Partly to understand his student better and partly to understand the look of absolute devastation on All Might’s face when he returned from trying to ask Midoriya the reason for his hostility. Shouta had been dying to know what Midoriya said that made Japan’s Symbol of Peace speechless for a full forty-eight hours. Needless to say, Yagi never approached the kid again for the entire year. There was some history there, Shouta was sure of it.
Speaking of All Might, his suspicious attitude and blatant favoritism towards Uraraka also gave Shouta a massive headache. Yagi thought he was being careful, but the man wouldn’t know stealth if it hit him in the face.
The bell rang for homeroom and Shouta (begrudgingly) made his way inside the class. “Settle down,” he muttered flatly. Normally, the greeting here would be ‘good morning’, but Shouta never had one so he didn’t see the point.
Most of the students startled at the sound of his voice and hurriedly took their seats. Aizawa held back a groan. Eight seconds. Had they learned this past year at UA? He could already feel his headache increasing with the news he was going to have to share.
“I have an announcement to make.” He continued, “Principal Nedzu recently made a deal with two prestigious schools for them to accept the hero course classes as exchange students for two weeks. Class 2-A and 2-B will be sent to separate schools along with their homeroom teachers. For you, that means me.”
And just as he expected, the class burst into loud whispers and murmurs before he was even finished. He could see all his students except for Midoriya talk to each other excitedly. But if the slight tilt of the quiet boy’s head was any indication, he was just as interested, albeit he didn’t show any emotions to his classmates.
“Wait, does this mean we’re going to another school?” Ashido squealed, “For real? Like, we get to visit other hero programs? This is amazing!”
Shouta sighed, “This is a learning opportunity, not a vacation.”
Todoroki’s eyes narrowed slightly, “It’s a good chance to see how different schools train their heroes. I’m curious about how other programs compare to ours.”
At that, Shouta knew he would be shaving years off his head when he answered Todoroki, “Right, about that. It’s not a hero school. The place we’ll be going to is the most prestigious institution of America and they do not have any hero courses.”
Kaminari’s eyes widened dramatically, “You mean it’s not a hero school? But it’s the most prestigious institution in America?! What do they even teach there?”
“The school you’ll be going to is Night Raven College,” Shouta replied with exhaustion lacing his tone. “Students enroll at 16 in a four year program and it’s a school that nurtures the elite of society. It’s the top school because the students that graduate from NRC take up influential positions all around the world.”
Bakugo scoffed, “Hah? So we’re going to some stuck-up school for trust-fund losers? What a waste of time. I don’t need to rub shoulders with a bunch of silver-spoon brats who can’t fight their way out of a paper bag.”
The class was silent except for Bakugo's outburst as the rest of the students mulled over Shouta's words. They were confused and couldn't understand what they could gain from a school that didn't have any hero courses. But before anyone could say anything else, they heard the sound of laughter coming from a corner of the room.
As everyone turned their heads to the source, they could see Midoriya bending over his seat, desperately trying to stifle his giggles. Shouta raised an eyebrow. This was the first time he had seen the boy smile in the past year and by the shocked expressions of his students, this was also the first time they had seen any positive emotions from him.
But… was it really a positive emotion?
Bakugo seemed to have the same question as him and he stomped over to Midoriya’s seat, his hands sizzling and popping with explosions. Shouta activated his quirk instinctively just as Bakugo slammed his hands on Midoriya's table, his fury palpable.
“Oi, Deku!” He snarled, leaning forward, “What the fuck are you laughing at?”
Midoriya raised an eyebrow at Bakugo's advance, not even the least bit intimidated, and leaned back in his seat with a slow and controlled grace that Shouta had not seen from even the best pro heroes, let alone a 16-year-old.
“It's nothing,” he replied smoothly, his voice confident and aloof, “I just thought of something funny, is all.”
“Don't mess with me, you fucking nerd!” Bakugo growled as he grabbed Midoriya's collar and pulled the shorter boy towards him.
And this was another thing that raised red flags for Shouta. Ever since the first day, Bakugo had been out for Midoriya. Had it been anyone else, Shouta would have chalked it up as rivalry between students. But Midoriya was quirkless. Even a blind man could see the implications when Bakugo’s very first instinct to Midoriya was to react with violence.
Shouta wanted him gone the moment he had pieced together what deku meant. A teenager who bullied a harmless, innocent child for absolutely no reason except for not being biologically gifted with a quirk did not deserve to be a hero. But Midoriya wanted him to stay, for some godforsaken reason and since Shouta couldn’t find any evidence implicating Bakugo, he hadn’t expelled him. That didn’t stop him from forcing anger management lessons down the blond’s throat for the entire year, though. And Bakugo has gotten better…
Though looking at the current state, he supposed another year of lessons were in order.
“Why do you always think that everything that happens revolves around you?” Izuku smirked more openly, his tone as soft and steady as it always was, “I just laughed because I remembered something hilarious…” He drove the nail in the coffin. “Arrogant much?”
The temperature in the class dropped as most of the students reeled back in shock. Shouta's eyes narrowed the slightest fraction. There was something about the way the boy handled Bakugo’s fury—completely unshaken, almost as if he were savoring it—that set off a strange feeling in Shouta’s gut. The class was still silent, waiting for a confrontation that they all knew could explode into something dangerous. But Midoriya didn’t seem fazed at all.
Shouta watched intently, his gaze flicking to Bakugo’s seething face, then back to Midoriya, who just smirked in response, enjoying Bakugo’s outburst to the fullest. He was trying to piece together what had just happened—what had caused Midoriya, of all people, to explode like that. Shouta always knew Midoriya had a way with words. His most frightening weapon was his mind. And until now, Shouta had only seen him use it in training and against villains.
But this…
This was different. Midoriya’s words held the same manipulative edge that cutthroat officials and businessmen in the upper echelons of society usually have. This was a play of dominance. One that Bakugo couldn’t even recognise was going on. And one that Midoriya was winning.
He established himself above Bakugo with just two sentences.
Just two.
Shouta wanted his coffee.
And a raise.
His eyes narrowed at Bakugo’s face that was scrunched up in the most ugly glare he had seen till now as his quirk sparkled dangerously near Midoriya’s face. But Midoriya… Midoriya didn’t flinch. He didn’t even seem to register the danger in the air. No. He did. Shouta could bet that the green haired teen knew exactly how precarious this situation was. He readied his capture weapon and stepped closer to the two students.
“Hm,” Midoriya hummed in Bakugo’s face, “Since you’re confused, I guess I can explain just once.” Bakugo’s nostrils flared as his face turned redder in rage. But Midoriya continued, undeterred, “Aizawa sensei said we are going to a school from where all executives in influential positions graduate… And that includes the governments. And heroes work under governments.” Midoriya’s smirk turned into a lazy grin, “That means we’re going to meet people who, upon graduating, will most probably have the power to make or break our careers.” He explained patiently, as one would do to a child. Every single word of his echoed through the classroom as the implications of his words became clear to all the students.
Shouta grimaced. He already knew this, of course. And he was planning to explain the importance of their visit in a… milder way, so to speak. But he never expected Midoriya to rip off the bandage just like that. And looking at the wide, disbelieving eyes of most of the students, none of them had even thought about it.
Midoriya tilted his head with a thoughtful expression on his face, “Though you might want to reign in your temper, Katsuki . Wouldn't want to destroy UA’s image in foreign institutions and cause an unnecessary international conflict, now would we?.” He smiled softly at Bakugo, his gloved hand coming up to his collar, freeing himself from Bakugo’s iron grip with a single, strong tug. “As much of a hothead you are, I believe you do understand the consequences of your actions this time around?”
Shouta winced mentally. Even standing 12 feet away from the teens, he could feel the mockery dripping from every letter that came out of Midoriya’s mouth.
“WHY YOU-”
“That's enough.” Shouta intervened, his voice cutting through the silence of the room like a whip. As satisfying as seeing Midoriya standing up for himself was, he had allowed this to play out long enough. “Midoriya, sit down. Bakugo, back to your seat. Now.”
Midoriya stepped back and adjusted his collar casually. His eyes briefly flickered to Bakugo, his expression more detached than anything else, before he turned his gaze to Shouta. “Apologies for the interruption, sensei. Please continue.” He said, completely ignoring Bakugo, who stood just inches in front of him, and seconds away from blowing a fuse.
“Bakugo,” Shouta warned the explosive teen as he saw small sparks erupting from his palms.
“Tch, you got lucky this time, Deku!” Bakugo shoved his hands in his pockets and turned back sharply. He stomped to his seat, the sound of his chair scraping against the floor echoing loudly in the quiet room.
Midoriya’s lips quirked up the slightest inch, the flicker of amusement ever-present in his mysterious green eyes that seemed to hold more secrets than Shouta cared to count, and he too, settled down in his seat. His relaxed posture conveyed how unbothered he was by what just happened as he turned his attention to look out of the window. Shouta didn’t miss the flash of silver that disappeared in Midoriya’s pocket and his eyes darkened. He was reminded again of what his student was capable of and what he had done during the Shei Hissaiki raid. The memories of blood splashing on that seemingly innocent face still unnerved him.
It didn’t take long for the whispers to start again, louder this time.
Shouta pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience already wearing thin. “As I was saying,” He said, addressing the class, “Night Raven College is a prestigious institution. Its students are selected for their potential to excel in leadership and influence, not combat. Though they do have classes that are combat oriented, they don’t value heroes the same way we do. You’ll be guests in their world, so behave accordingly. This isn’t just about representing UA; it’s about respecting an entirely different system.” He said seriously, shifting his head to look each of his students in the eye before continuing. “And Midoriya is right. Influence is a different kind of power, one you must be wary of. Don’t do anything that could gain you the animosity of the Night Raven College students.”
His gaze lingered on Bakugo, his stare pointed as he delivered the silent warning. The blonde “tched” in response before looking away.
“Pack your things. We leave in three days.”
─────♔♕♖♗♘♙─────
Izuku leaned back in his seat, the low hum of the plane’s engines filling the cabin as he glanced out of the window at the endless expanse of clouds. His reflection stared back at him faintly, a calm, unreadable expression masking the myriad of thoughts churning in his mind. They were heading to America.
Night Raven College.
The name alone carried a weight he couldn’t fully describe. It clawed its way into his thoughts, stirring memories he hadn’t revisited in a long time. Memories of the first time he’d been there when the odds had been stacked so impossibly against him. A place he thought he’d never return to. And with good reason- Night Raven College was in another dimension altogether. The first time he’d gone there…
It wasn’t by choice.
The light in his eyes faded, replaced by a colder, darker edge. He closed his eyes for a moment, and the memories came like a storm.
It was that day. That cursed day when he had lost everything, his hope, his purpose for living, his future.
“If you want a quirk so bad, why don’t you take a swan dive off the roof and pray for it in your next life?”
Suicide-baited by his childhood best friend…Izuku’s eyes fluttered open, a desperate attempt to ward off the memories and he stared blankly out the plane’s window, watching the sea of clouds drift below them. His reflection in the glass stared back, expression calm, distant, as if disconnected from the turbulence inside his mind. Until that moment, Izuku had considered Katsuki to be his friend. It had been foolish of him to do so, even through the bullying, the explosions, the constant barrage of insults. It was stupid, pathetic , really, but Izuku had convinced himself that there was something redeemable in the boy he’d once admired.
And then Katsuki went and said that. It was hazy now, the exact emotions he’d felt, but he knew something inside him had broken that day, something he wasn’t sure could ever be repaired. And if that wasn’t enough, he met All Might for the first time within the same hour.
He had appeared like a shining beacon of hope, saving him from the sludge villain and giving him an autograph. When Izuku gazed up at his saviour, he looked majestic, incredible, and he couldn’t help but ask a single question. The one question that validated his existence.
He’d been so sure, so desperate, that this was his moment. The moment he could finally prove he wasn’t worthless.
"Can a quirkless person be a hero too?"
The words echoed in his head, clear as the day he’d spoken them.
And then, All Might said no.
Izuku’s fingers tightened slightly around the armrest, his knuckles turning white as he exhaled softly, forcing himself to relax. Even now, the memory burned, the shame of that rejection like a weight he carried everywhere he went. All Might, the one person he believed would understand, had told him that his dream was impossible. That his quirkless existence had no place in the world of heroes.
He closed his eyes again, blocking out the sound of his classmates laughing and chatting around him. None of them had ever experienced that kind of rejection, that utter invalidation of their existence. How could they understand? They’d all grown up with quirks, with power, set to be heroes with the certainty that they had a place in the world.
He hadn’t.
All Might shattered everything he had ever believed for himself. And then he had left him alone on the roof that felt so… The edge beckoned him. It called to him like a siren.
“Take a swan dive.”
He had listened.
Standing at the edge, he felt a fear he had never felt before. He wanted to turn back, to return to his mom. He knew at the time that the choice he was making was a coward’s way out. But he was tired… so, so exhausted , he couldn’t take it anymore.
The memory of falling—of the world spinning and warping around him—was still vivid. So was the peacefulness he felt at that moment… It was the darkest hour of his life, one that no one other than Ace, Deuce and Grim knew about.
He had lost consciousness halfway. And then he saw it, a hand reaching out to him through a mirror. He didn’t know why he grabbed it at the time. But he did. For some reason, the flame inside him hadn’t died out.
And then he was there.
Night Raven College.
A world like he’d never seen before. That first day had been chaos—a blur of unfamiliar faces, strange customs, and a suffocating sense of alienation.
The hum of the plane seemed louder now, almost as if it, too, was pressing in on him. His fingers, once stiff with tension, now relaxed slightly on the armrest. He tried to focus on the sound, to drown out the relentless pull of his thoughts, but he failed to forget, after all…
It had been his first taste of real survival. Not survival from bullying or rejection, but from a world that didn’t care if he lived or died. He’d been a stranger there—quirkless, powerless, utterly out of place in a school where magic ruled everything.
He could still remember how overwhelming it had been.
The grandeur of the dark, Gothic halls. The hostility of the students. The suffocating pressure of navigating a world where kindness was a weakness, and strength came not from altruism, but from manipulation and ambition.
He’d hated it at first. Despised the way people treated him like an anomaly, the way they looked at him with disdain or indifference. How they were so quick to deny any form of kindness and used his selfless nature against him. But as the days turned into weeks, he learned. Slowly, painfully, but surely. Night Raven College had a way of teaching lessons that stuck, whether you wanted them to or not.
He learned. And he thrived.
Izuku’s gaze flicked back to his classmates. Their laughter, unburdened by the weight of his thoughts, almost felt like background noise. He could hear Kaminari cracking some jokes, Ashido chuckling, but it all felt muffled, like watching them through a fogged window. They were still wrapped in their simple, naïve worlds. They couldn’t know. They couldn’t understand .
He was broken when NRC found him. And they made him want to live again. He wasn’t given another purpose, he was taught to find it himself. He was taught to think for himself, to get up after being thrown down, to fight back, to win.
The students of Night Raven College had taught him how to love himself, how to gain the respect of those around him, how to gain power as a quirkless, magicless, freak.
NRC valued achievements above all else. And he, who had no place in any world, was accepted. He was accepted because his actions made a difference. Because he, in all his quirkless glory, made a difference. Once he’d proven himself—once his actions had spoken louder than any words could—they had accepted him in a way that no one ever had before.
Grim’s constant antics, Ace and Deuce’s chaotic bickering, Ruggie’s sly schemes, Idia’s sarcastic remarks… they weren’t friends in the traditional sense. They didn’t baby him, and they didn’t shield him from the world. But they were his .
For the first time in his life, Izuku had felt like he belonged somewhere.
Azul, Riddle, Vil…
They removed the stigma the name Deku always carried. They stripped it off of him and ripped it to bits. And they didn’t even know they were doing that.
At NRC, he saw the difference between his world and theirs. Where he came from, your quirk defined your status. For them, they created their status through sheer will and hard work…
All of them.
They pushed past their limits and won their battles, not because they were born into power, but because they seized it. They clawed their way to the top, defying odds and expectations with a kind of raw determination Izuku had never seen before.
They had done it not for anyone else, but for themselves.
Riddle was the most diligent student he knew. He was one of the scariest house wardens of NRC and had almost impossible standards for his dorm mates but if you look past his obsession with rules, you’ll see a student doing the very best a human possibly could to adhere to those very standards. Most people saw him as a tyrant. But Riddle was the one who offered to tutor him when he couldn’t understand basic magic concepts. Behind that cold exterior, Izuku could see the lonely child who was just trying to make sense of the world in the only way he knew how.
Not a single student in Night Raven College would trust Azul. He was the type of person who could even convince you to buy salt water while you’re stranded in the middle of the sea. Even with his arrogant and scheming personality, his influence in the school was no joke. He was the one who taught Izuku how to manipulate his words– to use them as a weapon, to recognise the hidden meanings and subtle manipulation in every phrase. Azul made a career out of exploiting people’s weaknesses. Izuku had been a victim first, like all new unsuspecting first years, but he couldn’t deny it had been a… life changing experience.
And then there was Vil, whose presence was almost suffocating in its perfection. Vil was ruthless in his pursuit of beauty and excellence, but his perfection wasn’t effortless—it was earned. He showed Izuku that being the best wasn’t about appeasing others or chasing their approval. It was about owning your image, your identity, and demanding respect because you deserved it.
Izuku had never felt he deserved anything before, he never even imagined demanding respect because he was always Deku–useless no matter what he did. He had never thought to fight back, not as desperately as they had. And that was the difference between them.
Desperation.
A raw, unfiltered desperation that makes miracles happen.
They hadn’t meant to help him, of course. NRC wasn’t a place of kindness. If anything, their actions were selfish, born from their own goals, their own egos. But their words, their actions—they had sparked something in him.
They made him question everything his world had hammered into him.
For the first time in his life, he accepted himself as quirkless, not as a sign of weakness but it was who he truly was.
And that was how he became strong. He devoured everything Night Raven College had to offer. The boy who had begged All Might for validation, who had clung to Katsuki’s scraps of friendship, who had let himself be defined by his quirkless status—he wasn’t on this plane. That boy was gone, dead from the moment he jumped.
Izuku shifted slightly in his seat, his gaze flicking back to his classmates. The contrast between them and the students of NRC was almost laughable. Class 2-A was a group of dreamers, kids who had grown up with quirks and the promise of heroism etched into their DNA. They believed in ideals, in teamwork, in saving everyone no matter the cost. Their personalities were so textbook heroic, there was no sense of self- no recognition that the world didn’t always work in neat little boxes of good and evil. That's why he never bothered acknowledging them.
“Midoriya,” Izuku blinked, turning his head when his name was called, “I’ve been wondering for a while now, why do you always wear gloves?” Asui asked, leaning closer from her seat. Alongside her were Todoroki, Uraraka, Iida, and Yaoyorozu, looking at him just as intently, with a hint of hesitation in their eyes....They weren’t even expecting an answer. How rude.
Izuku’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Out of all the questions the girl could have asked, she chose this one… his lips twitched as he raised his hands to remove his gloves. He supposed he could indulge his classmates a little more, after all, they would need all the help they could get if they wanted to return from Night Raven in one piece. “There’s no particular reason,” He mused, “It just saves me the effort of being asked unnecessary questions.”
Uraraka’s eyes narrowed, “What do you mea–” Her words got stuck in her throat as Izuku tugged his gloves completely off, revealing his pale skin beneath. Or specifically, the four black jagged lines that looked suspiciously like claw marks, wrapped around his left hand. There were other smaller scars too, and calluses. But the claw marks stood out the most– especially the black color. The four hero students watched his hand breathlessly as he flexed his fingers, admiring them. He didn’t mind the scar. After all, this wasn’t the only one he had.
Izuku could imagine what was going through their heads. Scars weren’t supposed to be black. They were always either white or red.
“Midoriya, how did this-?” Yaoyorozu couldn’t complete her question, her pained expression amused Izuku. Was this all it took for these heroes to break? They were weaker than he gave them credit for.
“I got scratched by a cat,” Izuku’s lips lifted into a small smirk at his word choice.
Todoroki shook his head in disbelief, “You received such horrendous scars from a cat?!”
Izuku shrugged, putting back his gloves, “It was an angry cat. Quite hungry too.”
“But how are the scars black!?” Uraraka whisper-yelled.
Izuku tilted his head considering it for a moment. Of course, he knew exactly why his scars were black– It was because of the toxic, stagnant magical energy that was released when Grim ate that blot crystal and attacked him in a frenzy. Blot attacks on a magicless person leave a residue. But how was he to explain the existence of magic to his classmates? More importantly, Why should he even bother?
He didn’t have a reason to, so he didn’t say anything further. Instead, he calmly adjusted in his seat and picked up the book he was currently reading– Gearcraft: Advanced neural synchronization circuits. His research that had started in Night Raven continued in his own world and after almost 3 years of work, Izuku knew he was close. He only hoped Idia would be up for a little… experimenting.
From the corner of his eyes, he watched as his classmates reluctantly returned to their previous conversation when it became clear he wouldn’t be answering further. So hopelessly kind and they expected the same in return…
Izuku admired that about them. He really did. But it was a naïve mindset.
NRC had taught him that the world wasn’t fair. It wasn’t forgiving. Sometimes, the only way to win was to be smarter, faster, and more ruthless than the people standing in your way. Sometimes, the only way to save someone was to let someone else fall. Sometimes, your kindness is what dooms you.
That wasn’t a lesson Class 2-A was ready to learn. And he doubted even NRC could teach them that in such a short period.
Izuku turned his attention back to the clouds, a faint, cold smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He felt no particular obligation to warn them. They wouldn’t listen, even if he tried. Besides, it would be entertaining to watch them struggle. He might even snag some popcorn from the cafeteria when Katsuki pisses off one of the House wardens. When, not if, because he knew it would happen. He only hoped that the explosive teen didn’t pick a fight with Malleus.
At Night Raven College, Class 2-A would be seeing a world they’ll never forget.
And he, he was returning home.
I wonder what sort of face Grim would make when he sees me.