Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Izuku was five, his mom took up more shifts at the hospital. This didn't bother Izuku, who got to walk home from school everyday like a big boy.

At least, it didn't bother him until the incident.

Izuku was walking home like normal. He always took the safest routes, like mama told him to.

It was late that day, Izuku had to stay after class because one of his classmates had gotten him in trouble with Akinawa-Sensei.

But it was alright. The sun was still peeking out over the horizon and if he hurried, Izuku wouldn't have to worry about the night hitting before he arrived home.

Izuku was always frightened of the dark, though he didn't know why. Because night means blood, attacks, death. Sun is safety, sun is warmth.

Izuku decided to take a shortcut, anxious to get home quickly. He had just turned down a side road when a cry came from a small alley.

Izuku tried to ignore it. Mama had taught him to keep his head down and ignore others on the street, because sometimes people liked to trick little boys and take them away. That wasn't right, she was nineteen…

But then the voice cried out again, weak and pained sounding. Izuku had to go investigate. What if a demon villain had hurt someone! It was his duty as a hashira future hero to help them.

Izuku ran quickly down the alley, keen eyes searching for the person who had made the noise. It wasn't hard to find her. 

A young woman was soaked in blood, propped against the alley wall. She had long black hair and a singular lavender clip in her hair shaped like a flower. Nee-san

Izuku cried out in shock, hurrying to the girl's side. “Ma'am! Are you okay?!” He asked, apply pressure to heavily bleeding wounds pressing against the wound on her stomach. 

The woman's eyes fluttered open to reveal light purple irises. Nee-san. NEE-SAN! “Oh,” She coughed, smiling up hazily at Izuku. “I love your smile.” She slurred, head lolling.

“Shinobu, I want you to be happy, like a normal girl. I want you to live to be an old woman.”

Shinobu 

Shinobu

“Tsun, tsun. Tomioka-San, tsun, tsun.”

Lady Shinobu

Kochou

Kochou-san

“Go to hell!”

Shinobu

Insect Hashira

Shinobu

“Get up and keep fighting. Insect Hashira, Shinobu Kochou.”

SHiNobU?

SHINOBU!

Izuku Midoriya awoke in a hospital room, surrounded by police officers after witnessing the traumatic death of a fellow civilian.

Shinobu Kochou awoke in a hospital room 200 years into the future, in a body that was not hers, surrounded by people she didn't know. And for the first time since her sister had died, Shinobu screwed up her face, and wept.

Chapter Text

The students of Aldera Junior High did not like Midoriya Izuku and he was well aware of it.

He’s too kind, they whispered. Always smiling, never angry. He's too feminine, have you seen his hair? He's quirkless too. A freak.

All of the students (and the teachers) agreed on that. Midoriya Izuku was a freak.

So it was no surprise to him that when the teacher announced: “Oh, Midoriya, you wanted to attend UA as well, didn't you?”, the entire class rioted.

“Quirkless Deku?!” Bakugou Katsuki screamed, popping explosions from his palms. “He'll get killed in the entrance exam!”

Izuku merely sat in his seat, smiling that saccharine sweet smile that had felled demons and terrified slayers.

His classmates snickered and whispered, but Izuku merely laughed. “Ara, ara~ Kacchan, are you worried about me?” 

Quickly the laughing increased, this time directed toward Bakugou. “HEH?!” The blonde shouted, whipping his head around to face Izuku.

Izuku was once again reminded of the Wind Pillar. And yet-

“YOU BASTARD! YOU CAN DIE FOR ALL I CARE!” For all that Bakugou was reminiscent of Shinazugawa Sanemi, the blonde lacked all of Shinazugawa's honor with all of his crudity.

No, Bakugou was not Sanemi, Izuku was just a sentimental fool.

Class ended and Bakugou and his cronies tried to corner Izuku, probably to threaten him. Izuku decided he didn't want to deal with that.

While Katsuki was boasting, Izuku took the opportunity to leap deftly out the window. The landing was rougher than it would have been if he had his haori, but it was still safe.

Izuku took off running on light feet, taking a shortcut under a bridge to avoid his usual path.

Izuku gave a hidden smirk, reveling in the smugness that he felt in outwitting Bakugou.

Unfortunately, his smugness was short-lived. The manhole cover at his feet rattled, once, then again.

With hashira-sharp senses, Izuku turned just in time to dodge an arm made of green goo.

It took Izuku a second too long to breathe, a second too long to relax, because as inhuman as the mass of sludge rising from the sewer system was- it was still not a demon.

Not a demon. Izuku reminded himself, as he leapt lightly to the side.

Not a demon. He repeated as he aimed a few swift kicks to the de-man's eyes.

Not a demon. Izuku chanted internally as he smiled sickeningly at the sludge villain still shrouded in the darkness of the bridge underpass.

“A medium-sized invisibility cloak!” The villain crowed, his slime continuing to emerge from the sewer like a cartoon Izuku would have watched when he was four (before the incident, before his memories, before her awakening).

“Say Sir,” Izuku interrupted. The villain looked startled, as most people did upon hearing his voice. Izuku knew his voice was unusual, it was light and feminine. Izuku spoke with the voice of the insect hashira. “How many sins have you committed?”

“Aye?!” The Sludge Villain shouted, reaching for Izuku with yet another tendril of slime. “I don't have time for this, kid. He's right on my tail!”

Izuku giggled as he dodged the goopy limb. “Oh no Sir! We can't be friends if you kill people!” Even without his katana, it's laughably easy to lodge a pencil in the thing's face.

“ARGH!” The Sludge Villain screeched, clutching the spot just under his eye. Then he wrenched the small projectile out, practically spitting with rage. “You stupid kid! You think a pencil is gonna defeat me?!”

Izuku simply bounced forward on his toes. “It's not just a pencil, it's coated in poison!” Izuku never left the house without at least two vials of poison. One human and one wisteria, all homemade. Poison is safety, poison is security. “Perhaps if you survive it, you'll have atoned for your sins and we can be friends!”

It was a bluff, Izuku only dosed the man with a muscle relaxant to prevent him from moving, but the words are practiced and natural, a role that he had played many times before.

“You're psychotic!” The villain screeched, his slime falling limp and useless onto the pavement. Izuku hummed cheerily in what might have been agreement, rummaging through his backpack.

He had no need for textbooks or notes, he wasn't the smartest hashira for nothing. Instead his bag was filled with medical supplies, poisons, ropes and other knick-knacks that made Izuku feel just a little bit less paranoid.

Izuku retrieved what he was looking for easily, a small glass bottle of salt. He made quick work of sprinkling salt onto the paralyzed man, watching with morbid fascination as the slime shriveled up and dried into a small clump.

Izuku had just finished packing away his vial of salt and the poison he had used when the manhole cover blew open once more.

“THERE IS NO NEED TO FEAR CIVILIAN, BECAUSE I AM HERE!” A boisterous voice boomed. Izuku gave a small frown. Before he had woken up, he had been a huge fan of All Might, but now, he couldn't help but compare the man to the Hashira.

Sure, his personality reminded him a bit of Rengoku, but the hero was all strength and no intelligence, with so much showboating. Those dramatics would have been a death sentence in the Taisho Era.

“Ah.” The hero eyed the shriveled lump of dry sludge on the ground, giving Izuku a nervous look. “I see you have this villain taken care of.”

“Yes sir!” Izuku chirped. All Might frowned disapprovingly.

“Now young man. It is illegal to use your quirk without a license, but because it was self-defense I won’t-” All Might began, but Izuku cut him off sweetly.

“I didn't.”

“What?”

“I didn't use my quirk.” Izuku repeated, his eye twitching despite his smile. What was it with people today and their obsession with quirks? The Demon Slayer Corps had felled creatures much stronger than these villains without quirks 

“How did you reduce the Sludge Villain to this state without using your quirk?” All Might asked, like the idea was preposterous. Izuku raised an eyebrow.

“Salt.” He said.

“Salt?” All Might asked. Izuku nodded.

“He shriveled up like a slug when I sprinkled salt on him!” Izuku explained. Was this man really just going to repeat everything he said?

“Well…” All Might seemed slightly disgusted and not sure what to make of that. “That certainly was… creative.”

Izuku clasped his hands in front of him. “Why thank you sir! Now I should be getting home, and you ought to be properly apprehending that villain!”

“I- yes. But, young man, you ought to get yourself checked out.”

Izuku quickly did a mental check. His Total Concentration Breathing - Constant was unimpeded and he had no injuries. “Thank you, but I'm quite alright.”

Izuku had no time for the man's stuttered protests, and dashed away. He had more important things to do.

Things like finding a swordsmith. Izuku had already gotten the necessary paperwork to request a support item for the UA entrance exam, but he had yet to find a swordsmith who could craft the stinger-like katana he needed.

While his body no longer had the butterfly-delicate composition of Shinobu, he also knew that trying to learn or use another breathing style was foolish. Don't fix what isn't broke and all that.

Izuku knew that there was little hope of finding a true nichirin swordsmith in this age, but it hadn't stopped him from trying. Izuku had researched every document he could get his hands on.

It was easy enough to track the descendants of the Haganezuka line, who had often made blades for the hashira. The name had recently died out when a woman named Neika Haganezuka had married a man named Jin Hatsume.

To Izuku's delight, the couple had a Hero Support Item company that specialized in weapons, including swords of all kinds. Izuku was currently hoping that the last Haganezuka might have some family secrets or skills that might finally get him his blade.

So Izuku ended up standing in downtown Mustafu, eyeing up the large building the proudly declared: Guns and Gear, Hatsume Co. in large letters over the entrance.

Izuku took another moment to examine the building before stepping inside. The inside of the lobby was half-chic office entry and half-inventor’s playground. There was a large reception desk in the middle of the room with comfortable looking chairs and tasteful decorations in front of it. But beyond the desk, there was a bustle of movement and noise.

The room seemed to open right up into the building's workshop. There was bulletproof glass dividing the sections but there was a clear view into the heart of the operation.

Pieces of metal could be seen being lifted by robotic arms and sparks were flying from some corner that Izuku couldn't fully see. There was a faint noise of some large gear grinding and the slightest scent of motor oil.

With his usual smile, Izuku fluttered up to the front desk. The man behind the desk looked up when Izuku cleared his throat lightly.

“Ah. Hello kiddo. What can I do for you today?” The man asked. Izuku felt his eye twitch at the man's condescending tone, but his poisonous smile persisted.

“Hello sir! I would like to speak with Hatsume Neika please.” The man smiled indulgently and pressed a button, relaying the message through some sort of intercom.

Then he told Izuku to have a seat, still looking at him like he was a particularly stupid puppy. Izuku entertained himself by thinking up increasingly violent ways to poison the irritating man while he waited in the lobby.

Not much later, the door leading from the workshop/chaos pit opened, revealing a woman with curly black hair and golden eyes. She was wearing dirtied blue overalls and was wiping grease onto a rag that was in her hands. She looked up at Izuku and smiled warmly.

“Hey hon. Were you the one looking for me?” She asked, tucking her nasty rag into her overall pocket and coming to stand in front of him.

“Quite so!” Izuku chirped. Mrs. Hatsume raised one thick eyebrow. 

“Well here I am. What can I do for ya?” Mrs. Hatsume asked. Her voice was warm and her aura welcoming. She reminded Izuku of Tanjiro.

“Ne, ne, Hatsume-san, did you know that your ancestors were very skilled swordsmiths?” Izuku asked, leaning in with one hand cupped around his mouth like it was a secret.

“I did know that.” Mrs. Hatsume's golden eyes narrowed, assessing Izuku more intensely. “But how did you know that?”

“Research.” Izuku waved the question away. “But if you are aware, does that perhaps mean you possess the same skills?”

Mrs. Hatsume studied him but said nothing. “Because Miss.” Izuku continued. “It would so happen that I am in need of a sword much like the ones your family made back in the Taisho Era.”

There was a beat of tense silence before Mrs. Hatsume nodded. “Let's discuss this in my office.”

Two hours later, Izuku walked out of “Guns and Gear” with a bright smile and the promise of a nichirin blade before the UA entrance exam.

All in all, a successful day.

Chapter Text

True to her word, Neika Hatsume had delivered Izuku's katana a few days before the entrance exam.

The design was just as Izuku remembered it, with the stinger-like blade and the delicate handle. Izuku heart squeezed as he saw the Kanji that Neika-San had engraved into the base of the metal: Destroyer of Demons

Izuku hadn't explained his situation to Neika-San, but the woman was no fool. Clearly she had recognized either his sword design or his mannerisms.

His new scabbard was different, a good different though. Neika-San had taken the design and ran with it. The sheathe was delicate and compact, with a slot where Izuku could place a vial of poison that would then flow into the scabbard to coat his katana.

Izuku held his breath as he gently wrapped his hands around the handle of his new nichirin blade. 

His smile softened as lavender-blue swam up the metal of the blade. Uncharacteristically childish excitement bubbled up inside Izuku. For the first time in so long he felt complete- safe.

He made quick work of transferring his poisons into the special vials that Neika-san had crafted to fit into his scabbard. He grabbed his usual paralyzing agents and wisteria poison and slid the new vials into the slots on his belt. After a few moments of contemplation Izuku added a vial of corrosive poison and a sleeping drug.

When Izuku had fixed his new sword to his belt and wrapped his calves in kyahan, he checked the clock and was astounded to see that it was nearly eight-thirty.

Izuku paused only briefly to accept his mother’s farewell before dashing away. It was an odd balance- Inko Midoriya, Izuku's mother, was a sweet, kind woman, and he would never want to hurt her, but Izuku was also Shinobu, and she hadn't had a parent (or needed one) for a very long time. Izuku loved his mother, but he had also lived for thirty-five years, nineteen of which were spent in brutal battles to the death, he was often stifled by her babying.

Izuku pondered this conundrum as he dashed toward UA High School. He had considered taking the train into the inner city simply for the novelty of it, but had eventually decided to take the faster method of simply running.

Izuku arrived just outside the school gates in time to catch a girl, who had been startled by his sudden arrival, by the back of her shirt and place her swiftly on her feet.

The girl looked over at him in surprise, before her rosy face broke out into a smile. Izuku was reminded with force of Nezuko Kamado’s similar expression whenever she saw Tanjiro or Tomioka.

“Oh! Thanks!” The pink-cheeked girl said brightly. “It's probably bad luck to fall before the exam. I appreciate the save.”

Izuku smiled back at her, and he was proud to say that it was more real than any smile he'd given as Shinobu. “No problem, Mochi-chan!” He assured her.

“U-uh? Mochi-chan?” The girl asked, pressing a hand to her (even pinker now) cheek.

Izuku nodded with a close-eyed smile, leaning in toward her on his toes. “You're pink and sweet like sakura mochi, Mochi-chan” 

“My name's Ochaco Uraraka!” She replied, face rapidly moving from pink to red. Izuku gave her a few pats on the head.

“I'm Izuku Midoriya!” He told her lightly, before starting off toward the door of the school. “I wish you luck, Mochi-chan.”

He left Uraraka behind him, sputtering and blushing. He giggled to himself as he made his way inside. Hopefully he had gotten her out of her own head for a bit.

The written portion of the UA entrance exam was… odd.

Izuku breezed through the science, math, and heroism questions, but History and language were a different story.

Izuku knew he had nailed the few questions about history that were focused before the Taishō period, but he was hopeless with anything more recent. 

Not to say he couldn't have studied those things if he had been so inclined, but Izuku avoided history books like the plague. He was simply too frightened of seeing a familiar face caught within those pages. 

Language had similar struggles, though less intensely. The Japanese language had changed significantly since Izuku had first learned it, and he often forgot the new rules that he had learned. The former hashira could only hope that his scores would be good enough to pass.

The next portion of the exam- the physical portion didn't start for another hour. Izuku realized upon arriving in the empty auditorium that he must have finished his written test unusually fast, as he was the only one there.

He found his seat and sat down, using the spare time to focus on his breathing. This exam would be the first time since his rebirth that he would be using Total Concentration Breathing: Insect Breathing with the proper blade. He wished there had been time to refamiliarize himself with his techniques, but for today, he was relying on muscle memory.

Izuku noted as he closed his eyes, breathing steadily, that he could hear other examinees entering the room. Most entered quietly, or spoke in hushed voices, though the occasional loud voice broke through.

Izuku had just taken another full breath, holding it to let the oxygen fill every cell in his body, when a loud voice cut into his concentration.

“Excuse me!” Izuku opened his eyes, his smile becoming fixed. A tall, stocky boy with dark blue hair was leaning over him, frowning.

“Yes?” Izuku asked. His smile persisted even as his eye twitched. This boy radiated disapproval, as though Izuku was doing something wrong when he was the one to interrupt him.

The boy chopped his arm up and down so fast that the doctor part of Izuku's brain worried for his elbows. “Outside items are not permitted in the exams, and as such, you are not allowed to have a sword!” The boy said, pushing his square glasses up his nose with one finger, “Additionally, I noticed your eyes were closed. If you're going to sleep and not take this seriously you may as well leave now.”

Izuku clasped his hands and gave the boy his most dangerous close-eyed smile, the one that shut up even Shinazugawa. “Ne, are you a teacher?”

The boy faltered, looking offended, “Well, no, but-”

“Well then, you really shouldn't correct people about things you have no knowledge of. It's rather rude, no?” Izuku continued sweetly, “In fact, I am permitted to use my katana in the exam as I applied for a support item beforehand. Now I suggest you take your seat and stop holding everyone up.”

Izuku finished, nodding his head to the front of the auditorium where a man with gravity-defying blonde hair was standing at a podium, watching the confrontation curiously. Izuku vaguely recognized the man as a hero, Presentation Something-or-other.

The blue-haired boy flushed darkly and mumbled an apology, bowing toward the man at the front of the room and hurrying to his seat.

The blonde man watched as the boy settled back into his seat before turning to look at the room at large and throwing out his hands. “What’s up UA Candidates, thanks for tuning into me, your school DJ. Come on and let me hear ya!”

There was utter silence and Izuku had to fight back a sigh. This was as painful as watching Rengoku try to engage Tomioka in conversation.

“Keeping it mellow, huh?” The hero laughed, seemingly undeterred by the unenthusiastic response. “That’s fine, I’ll skip straight to the main show. Let’s talk all about how this practical exam’s going to go down, okay? ARE YOU READY!?”

Izuku almost felt bad for the man, because you could have heard a pin drop in a room full of five-hundred teenagers. The man grinned and the screen behind him lit up with the silhouettes of the robots that had been on the exam application.

“Like your application says, today you rockin' boys and girls will be out there conducting ten-minute mock battles in super-hip urban settings!” The hero said, posing with a hand on his hip, “After I drop the mic here you’ll head to your specified battle center, sound good?” 

“I see. They're splitting us up so we can't work with any of our friends.” Came a voice from beside Izuku. Izuku didn't deign Katsuki Bakugou with a response.

“Okay, okay, let's check out your targets.” The blonde hero gestured to the screen and it began to cycle through the different shaped robots, displaying a point value above each one. “There are three types of faux villains in every battle center. You'll earn points based on their level of difficulty, so better choose wisely.

Your goal in this trial is to use your Quirk to raise your score by shredding these faux villains like a mid‐song guitar solo.”

He paused, “But, check it! Make sure you're keep'n things heroic. Attacking other examinees is a UA no‐no, ya dig?”

The boy from before raised his hand and stood up, apparently over his shame, “Excuse me, sir, but I have a question.”

“Hit me!” The hero shot finger guns up at the boy. 

How is he a teacher? Izuku thought incredulously. Kanao wouldn't have survived final selection if he had taught her like this.

“On the printout, you've listed four types of villains. Not three. With all respect, if this is an error on official UA materials, it is shameful. We are exemplary students. We expect the best from Japan's most notable school. A mistake such as this won't do.” The boy said all this very fast. Izuku almost giggled at the perplexed expressions that appeared on everyone's faces.

“All right, all right. Examinee number 7‐1‐1‐1. Thanks for calling in with your request.” Kami, This man really loves his radio references “The fourth villain type is worth zero points.That guy's just an obstacle we'll be throwing in your way. 

There's one in every battle center. Think of it as a hurdle you should try to avoid. It's not that it can't be beaten, but there's… kinda no point.

I recommend my listeners, try to ignore it and focus on the ones toppin' the charts.”

“Thank you very much.” The boy bowed a full ninety degrees and sat down stiffly. “Please, continue.”

Izuku knitted his eyebrows. If the zero-pointer was meant to be an obstacle, why was there only one per battle center? There was no way to guarantee anyone would encounter it unless it was… giant.

Izuku's smile sharpened. So that was the catch. One big, worthless robot amongst the small valuable ones.

“That's all I got for you today.” The hero announced, “I'll sign off with a little present. A sample of our school motto! As General Napoleon Bonaparte once laid down: "A true hero is one who overcomes life's misfortunes." Mm‐hm. Now that's a tasty soundbite.You ready to go beyond? Let's hear a Plus Ultra!”

Many students cheered and shouted Plus Ultra. Izuku refrained. He’d seen what going beyond had done to his fellow hashira as well as Tanjiro. You got marked for death at twenty-five.

“Good luck! Hope you practiced hitting more than just books.” The hero quipped. Then he dropped the microphone he was holding. With his Total Concentration Breathing: Constant enhanced ears, Izuku heard the doors click open.

The examinees surged forward like demons after marechi. Izuku found the bus marked with his testing center and weaved through the crowd to climb aboard.

The bus ride was short, which made Izuku wonder why they hadn't just walked to the testing zones. Everyone piled out of the bus and spread out.

Some of the more sociable people formed little groups to chat while most of the others kept to themselves, looking nervous. A few people near the large doors that undoubtedly lead to the fake city had started showing off their quirks and doing push-ups. 

Izuku clicked his tongue. This was why the Demon Slayer Corps had organized The Final Selection the way they had. No one was showing off or standing around talking when you were about to fight for your life for a week straight.

Izuku positioned himself directly behind the group that was showing off and pulled a vial out from his belt. He slid the bottle into place, pressing the sealed top face down in the slot. He had selected simple corrosive agent- something that could eat through most metals (excluding nichirin of course).

He watched in fascination as the poison flowed through the clear channel and filled his scabbard. Izuku reminded himself to whip up an extra batch of wisteria poison and flower bags for Neika-san in addition to his payment for the nichirin blade- truly her work was amazing.

The back of Izuku's neck prickled and he looked up. A few meters away, Ochaco Uraraka, or Mochi-chan, was looking at him nervously. Izuku gave her a slight smile and tilted his head.

Uraraka returned it nervously.

“Right, let's start!” The voice of the same man from the auditorium sounded from some hidden speakers, “Get moving!”

The large doors ground open with surprising speed for something made entirely of concrete.

The people in front of the door stood there and gaped like idiots. Izuku gave them a full second to move before he sprang into action. 

He leapt up into the air and flapped his arms up and over the group of kids blocking the entrance. This jacket was not nearly as good as his haori, but it got the job done. Izuku hit the ground just inside the false city and kept running. 

There were swarms of robots that immediately started moving toward him as he entered the city limits. Izuku leapt at the closest one, it looked like a one-pointer, drawing his katana in one smooth motion.

“Insect Breathing, Dance of the Butterfly: Caprice!” Izuku thrust his katana into the two leg joints and the large red camera? on the robot, watching with satisfaction as his poison ate away at the inside quickly and the robot collapsed.

“What are you waiting for?” Said the voice over the speakers, “There are no countdowns in real battles, that kid gets it!”

This seemed to jolt the other examinees back to reality and a veritable stampede flooded the entrance to the mock-city.

Izuku kicked off the remains of the first robot and flipped onto a low wall nearby, watching students rush past.

Let the games begin.

Chapter Text

Izuku was honestly a little disappointed by the UA entrance exam.

The robots were slow and clunky. He was able to hear them approaching before they were even in firing range.

The joints were weak, and the metal crumpled under his katana easier than any demon he'd ever faced.

Izuku had to hold himself back- deliberately slowing his steps and ignoring some nearby robots- to allow the other examinees a chance to reach the faux-villains.

Speaking of the other examinees, Izuku was slightly disappointed. It was abundantly clear that none of them had any kind of training.

Most of them ran around like headless chickens (or perhaps Kanzaburo, Tomioka’s Kasugai crow), shouting and trying to punch the robots.

The few that were having any success were working alone, ignoring and even sabotaging the other examinees. Izuku had to bite back a frown as the blue boy zoomed past, the gust of wind he created knocking at least three people onto their asses.

Izuku paused after dispatching a three-pointer and took a deep breath. It wasn't fair to these children to judge them by the standards of the Demon Slayer Corps. These kids were trying to get into a school, where they would be trained, they weren't applying to an organization.

Additionally, most members of the Demon Slayer Corps were victims of Demons in some way or another. Even the youngest Mizunoto had probably been exposed to the horrors of the world.

Izuku released his breath, calming. These examinees were children, and he had to treat them as such.

With that in mind, Izuku switched his goal. He had already racked up a decent number of kills. Eighty, maybe? Eighty-three?

Izuku switched his focus to rescue. As the Corps medic, he had often been sent in as backup, or extraction, even if his battle skill as a Hashira hadn't been needed.

He dashed through the streets of the city, eyes peeled and ears pricked. He pulled the examinees out of danger and set them to the side.

He avoided taking out the robots they were facing, recognizing that it would only make them angry.

Izuku had only had to take out two more robots (one had been about to step on a girl with pink hair and the other had somehow chased a frog-like examinee up the side of a building and then tipped over, plummeting toward a crowded street.

He had paused, close to the exit, when there was a sudden rumbling and a scream. Izuku's blood ran cold.

He immediately started running toward the back of the city, where the scream had come from. As he got closer, he passed more and more examinees running full pelt in the other direction. Some were screaming, a few were actually crying, and one looked like he was going to pass out.

He passed a small boy with purple balls on his head, who shouted in clear panic: “What the heck are you doing! Run away before you get squished!”

Izuku's responding smile was fixed. Others had to have heard the terror-filled scream that Izuku had. And yet they were running away?

Then he rounded a corner and saw what they were running from. A robot, the giant one he had theorized about earlier, was standing on what must have previously been a city block, causing destruction.

A few people stood transfixed as the robot advanced like a lumbering bear, staring in awe or horror.

Izuku leapt into action. He darted forward and grabbed two of the frozen students by the arms, dragging them a safe distance away before letting go. “Ne, ne, you really ought to run to the exit before you get crushed.” Izuku scolded the two before darting off to rescue more students.

A few managed to gather their wits and take off running when they noticed what Izuku was doing, and soon, only one person remained. A boy with purple hair (about the color of Izuku's eyes in his past life) was looking around- not at the robot, but at the rubble that the robot had created.

Izuku dashed forward and tapped the boy on the shoulder. “Pardon me, but you really should run away before one of us gets hurt.”

The boy looked at him and scowled. “Can't.” at Izuku's questioning raise of an eyebrow, he elaborated. “There's a girl, she was stuck under some concrete but more rocks fell and I don't see her anymore.”

Damn it. Izuku felt his eye twitch at the information, but the boy was right, they couldn't leave a girl to be crushed by the massive zero-pointer that was still advancing.

“Ne, what's your quirk,” Izuku asked the boy. The kid’s bony, thin arms revealed his tack of training, but maybe he had a useful quirk to make up for it.

“Uh- brainwashing…” The boy said, his voice becoming frosty as he eyed Izuku warily. Izuku hummed, his brain working overtime.

There's no way we could safely find that girl with the robot causing pandemonium. But to stop the robot… Izuku thought, his eyes distant, Surely there's some sort of safety feature on the robot, with all the emphasis heros put on protecting others. An external off switch- but that wouldn't be helpful for a student in immediate danger, they wouldn't be able to reach it and someone would have to physically approach it, which would be time consuming.

Izuku's mind darted to the smaller robots from before. The way they had only used lasers as weapons- they hadn't punched or moved with purpose like this large one.

Perhaps an automatic shutdown? But how would the robot know if it needed to shut down? And in the event of an system glitch, whatever caused the robot to become a danger would have corrupted any built in stop there was, that wouldn't help… so there has to be-

“Do you have to see the person?” Izuku asked the Purple Boy, smile widening. The boy looked startled.

“What?”

“To brainwash someone- do you need to see them?” Izuku clarified, his voice hurried.

“Uh- no. It's, um, a call and response trigger.” The boy responded awkwardly. Izuku's grin became victorious. 

“Perfect” Izuku, grabbed the purple boy’s shoulders to make sure he was listening, “I have a plan and a backup plan. No questions, I want you to try and brainwash the robot. But imagine there's someone inside controlling the robot- use the robot’s response to give them orders.”

The boy looked perplexed, “But, the robot doesn't talk…”

Izuku looked sharply at the boy, “You said your quirk had a call and response trigger. Head movements, hand gestures, even sounds; aren't those responses?” Izuku asked impatiently.

The boy’s tired eyes widened like heaven was shining upon him. He stood still for a moment, and Izuku was about to poke him when his purple eyes hardened and he faced the robot.

“HEY YOU!” The boy shouted at the massive robot.

It wasn't a great insult or attention grabber, but the robot still paused, creaking as its ‘head’ swiveled to face Izuku and the boy. Izuku could see the exact moment the boy tried to activate his quirk because his entire posture straightened.

“Power off the robot,” the boy commanded. Izuku's smile was vicious. The robot shuddered for a moment before it froze, the limbs and ‘head’ drooping.

“Ara, ara, you did well.” Izuku told the boy, who was standing, looking stunned, at the inanimate robot.

“AAAND- THAT’S TIME. PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE EXIT!” The loud hero's voice sounded throughout the city.

Izuku instead took the liberty of jumping atop the closest piece of rubble and scanning the area with his eyes. It was easy to spot the girl Purple Boy had spoken of. 

It was Uraraka-chan, her leg pinned beneath a large slab of concrete. Izuku hopped over to her, avoiding the unstable-looking piles of rubble.

“Ne, ne, Mochi-chan.” Izuku chirped, leaning down close to Uraraka’s ear. “Let me help you out.”

Uraraka jumped at his voice, and then quickly let out a whimper of pain. Izuku studied the slab of concrete. He was pretty sure he couldn't lift this. Even though he was stronger than he had been as Shinobu, Insect Breathing still didn't put focus on physical strength.

Moments like this and he really missed Mitsuri. 

Izuku thought for a moment, stumped. As he was thinking, the boy ran up to him. He was winded but seemed otherwise okay.

“Can we get her out?” He asked Izuku, who hummed.

“I'm not strong enough to lift it.” Izuku confessed, “And you're not either.”

“Hey! You don't-”

“You have noodle arms, Murasaki-kun.” Izuku said sweetly, cutting off the boy's pouting.

“My name is Hitoshi Shinsou.” The purple boy scowled. Izuku lifted a shoulder.

“Izuku Midoriya,” He returned the introduction. He thought back to the beginning of the exam. He had seen Uraraka using her quirk on some robots to lift them up- maybe…

“Ne, Mochi-chan.” Izuku called, leaning over Uraraka. “Can you use your quirk on this piece of concrete?”

Uraraka looked up at him. “Ah- maybe?” She said with a grimace. “I might throw up and lose control though.” She admitted sheepishly.

Izuku smiled sweetly at her, “Then we'll just have to be quick, no?” 

Uraraka took a deep shuddering breath before speaking. “On the count of three- one, two, three!”

On her signal, Uraraka activated her quirk, a pale pink glow coming from under the slab of concrete. The concrete wavered for a moment before drifting upward.

Izuku and Shinsou quickly pushed the concrete to the side where it floated away so it was no longer hovering over Uraraka. 

There was a brief victorious silence before- “hrrk-”

Uraraka turned her head to the side and puked a sort of liquid rainbow all over Shinsou's shoes. Simultaneously, the floating piece of concrete dropped like it was hot and cracked down the middle as it hit the ground.

Shinsou let out a sound of relief, closely followed by disgust as he tried to shake sparkly rainbow goop off of his shoes. Izuku smirked, kneeling down next to Uraraka.

“You did wonderful, Mochi-chan. Let me help you.” He smiled, slipping into doctor mode. He popped out a little bottle from his medicine bag and uncorked it. “Here, sip.”

Uraraka sipped at the purple liquid, and slowly the green ebbed away from her face and her arms unwrapped from her stomach.

“You know medicine?” Shinsou asked, crouching down next to the two. Izuku hummed in agreement.

“Yes. Better?” He asked Uraraka. The girl nodded. “Where else is there pain?” 

Uraraka pulled herself into a sitting position. “Ah- my ankle.” She pointed out her right ankle, which indeed looked a little swollen.

“Can I?” Izuku asked, his hands hovering over her foot. Uraraka nodded.

Izuku gently felt her ankle with nimble fingers, giving her a soft smile as she winced at the pressure. “Well, it's not broken. Just sprained.” Izuku assured her.

He pulled a roll of bandages from his utility belt and securely wrapped her ankle. “That should hold it still. Keep weight off of it for a few weeks.” He said, tucking the now-empty bottle of nausea relief away.

“Ne Shinsou-kun, help me stand her up?” Izuku asked sweetly. Shinsou quickly ducked under Uraraka’s arm, taking her weight. Izuku did the same on the other side, and together they lifted the girl off of the ground and onto her one good foot.

The trio hobbled awkwardly back to the entrance doors, where they were immediately accosted by a small, elderly woman.

“Oh dear! Come, come.” She waved them over. Izuku exchanged a glance with Shinsou before shrugging.

They followed the doctor? Nurse? (Her outfit indicated some kind of medical personnel) into the school and away from the exam.

Chapter Text

When Hizashi Yamada got a text that he needed to take his spot in the auditorium, he was confused.

He knew he often lost track of time when he was excited or preoccupied, but surely it hadn't already been two hours since UA’s newest little listeners had begun their exam.

Checking his watch, Hizashi found that he was correct. Only one hour had passed out of the allotted three for the written exam.

Looking back at his phone, the text from Ectoplasm remained the same: First kid just turned in test, head to your spot.

Hizashi wasn't sure whether to be confused or impressed. Maybe this listener who had finished Nedzu's hell test so quickly had an intelligence quirk?

When he entered the auditorium through the stage door, he found the student quickly. They were sitting in the back of the auditorium, eyes closed.

He ran through his mental list and noted where the kid was sitting. This was examinee 1007. He raised an eyebrow at the child's appearance: green hair combed back into yaki-maki bun and secured with a butterfly pin, a few curly strands of hair framing their face, his middle school gakuran was a pretty standard black, but his calves were wrapped in kyahan like an old fashioned swordsman might have, which matched with the scabbard on his hip.

At first, Hizashi thought the student was asleep, and he frowned. Then he realized that the little listener was sitting stock straight, his breathing even and shoulders squared.

Ah Hizashi realized. The kid was meditating. Or something similar.

He kept his footsteps silent and breathing shallow. Yes Shouta, he could be quiet when he wanted to. Still, Hizashi could see the green haired kid twitch, and his head turned ever so slightly to face him.

A shiver went down Hizashi’s spine. It was clear this kid had some serious situational awareness. If he made it into Shouta's class, he had no doubt the little listener wouldn't fall for Hizashi's husband's little test.

Almost an hour later, the next few students filed in. And after another thirty minutes, the room had filled considerably.

Hizashi had mostly forgotten about the strange little listener until he was gearing up to start. He realized one examinee was not in their seat.

It was Tensei's little brother, Tenya. He was standing over the greenette, looking stern. Hizashi winced.

Tenya was a stickler for rules, a trait that was mysterious in origin, seeing as Tensei had practically raised him and Tensei was about the most laid-back a person could get.

Still, Hizashi worried he would have to pull Tenya off this poor kid for whatever infraction Tenya had perceived. At least, he had thought that until Tenya had opened his mouth-

Only to be almost immediately shut up by the green haired boy. He wore a smile and his words were honeyed, but Hizashi sensed a venom beneath them that unnerved him.

Shouta's gonna love this kid…

-

Shouta was glad when the examinees had been dismissed to their battle centers and Hizashi had returned to the observation room above the false cities.

Mostly because he could now lean on his blonde husband like a pillow. All of them- Snipe, 13, Cementoss, Nemuri, Power Loader, Hizashi, Nedzu and himself, observed through the hidden cameras around the waiting areas.

Shouta was disappointed to note that very few examinees in any of the arenas were actually warming up. Mostly they were standing around nervously- though some had taken to boasting and showboating around the main gates of their respective battle centers. Shouta almost hoped a few of those fools made it into his class just so he could expel them.

When Nedzu finally gave the all clear, and Hizashi opened the gates with his customary call, the examinees blanched.

One blonde examinee in exam area A, and a few in exam area D were quick on the uptake and shot forward, but most stood like stuffed ducks. 

Shouta was frowning. A frown which only deepened when his husband sat up straighter, causing Shouta to slip sideways and almost fall off his chair. 

“Hizashi!” He snapped.

The blonde wasn't listening. Instead, he was watching the screen for exam area C with interest. “It's that little listener.” He said.

“Which one?” Shouta asked, now peering at the screen. Nedzu also looked over, alerted, as always, to anything interesting.

“the green one.” Hizashi replied. He didn't need to elaborate. Shouta easily picked out which student he meant.

One kid, obviously miffed by his fellows’ inaction, had quite literally jumped over a crowd of examinees and immediately dispatched a one-pointer with a- katana?!

“What are you waiting for?” Hizashi said after a moment, leaning in to speak into the microphone, “There are no countdowns in real battles, that kid gets it!”

Shouta did his best throughout the exam to observe all of the examinees equally, but his eyes kept being drawn to the cameras of exam area C, and the green blur that shot across the screens.

The kid was frankly, really talented. He didn't waste time showing off or running away like most examinees did. Instead, the kid ruthlessly dispatched robot after robot with that strange sword of his that disintegrated the metal.

The student leapt and flapped his jacket like wings, almost floating in the air. After one particularly daring strike against a three-pointer, during which the green student left behind a strange afterimage of ethereal butterflies, Shouta couldn't hold back.

He turned to Nedzu, who was currently watching a red haired examinee in area A destroy a robot in defense of a- was that a Lego?

“Nedzu. What's this kid's quirk?” Shouta asked his mentor, head tilted.

Nedzu hopped over, perching himself on the arm of Shouta's chair. He followed Shouta's gaze and his eyes got that twinkle that Shout associated with mass destruction.

“Ah. That would be Izuku Midoriya.” Nedzu chirped. “He's quirkless.”

All hell broke loose.

-

Through various exclamations of shock and disbelief, Toshinori was frozen.

“I didnt.”

“What?”

“I didn't use my quirk.”

One of the cameras caught an especially clear shot of the examinee Eraserhead had asked about- the one that was dominating in area C- and Toshinori's stomach flipped.

That child he had met under the bridge so many months ago- was quirkless? 

Watching the child pull his peers to safety with a sweet smile and incredible agility- Toshinori wondered…

-

Nedzu cackled at his staff's expressions. Even Shouta, his normally stoic kit, looked flabbergasted.

“You can't be serious?!” Yamada squeaked, looking bewildered.

Nedzu nodded, “Completely.”

“What about the butterflies?” Kayama asked, one long nailed finger pointing at the television screen where the insect hashira was destroying another bot with illusionary butterflies and bees trailing him.

Nedzu clapped his paws together before sipping his tea. “They are the result of the technique he uses with his katana. I've seen it before. Izuku Midoriya is completely quirkless!”

Yagi, the bumbling fool, started sputtering denials. Meanwhile, Yamada and Kayama both looked pensive. Snipe looked satisfied and Power Loader seemed optimistically confused.

Shouta, however, was wearing an expression that Nedzu knew his kit had learned from him. A devious, ominous grin split his student's face.

Nedzu cackled again. “Let's see how he handles a real challenge!” He chirped. He pressed the giant red button on the remote he produced from his suit, still cackling.

The third-year support course students who had built this year's giant zero-pointer exam robots all readied themselves, slipping on headphones and positioning themselves at their computers.

Well Shinobu Kochou, let's see how you will handle this…

Chapter Text

As a doctor, Izuku was not at all impressed by the UA medical care. 

The old woman, who introduced herself as the hero Recovery Girl, had led Izuku, Shinsou, and Uraraka into the school building and into the infirmary.

Uraraka had been set up on one of the beds and promptly given a kiss on the cheek. The brunette had, directly after, passed out cold.

Both Izuku and Shinsou had given the woman chilly glares (though Izuku's was accompanied by a sugary smile and a hand on his katana hilt), blocking the elderly woman from Uraraka until the woman explained her quirk.

Apparently, Recovery Girl could use a person's own energy to instantly heal their injuries- with some limitations- when she kissed them.

Izuku raised his eyebrows in interest. A quirk like hers was invaluable, both in heroics, and in demon slaying. The old woman had clunked away after that, presumably to find more patients, leaning on a disproportionately large cane shaped like a syringe as she went.

Shinsou scowled after her before looking at Uraraka who was still passed out on the bed. “Could you…” Shinsou paused, looking distinctly awkward.

Izuku raised an eyebrow at him. Shinsou cleared his throat.

“Could you look over her again?” The purple-haired boy finally asked, a faint flush painted high on his cheekbones. “That woman just kissed her and walked away. Frankly, I don't think that counts as medical care.”

Izuku couldn't help but agree, so he nodded.

For all the shortcomings of their nurse, Izuku couldn't deny that UA had an amazing medical ward. It was like a doctor's fever dream.

Izuku moved next to Shinsou and carefully examined Uraraka. Unfortunately, Recovery Girl's kiss seemed to have targeted her smaller injuries.

The various small cuts and scrapes on her arms were gone, and Izuku could see a bruise fading from her shin. But Uraraka’s ankle was still swollen and puffy.

It was easy enough to treat, Izuku simply rewrapped her ankle (Recovery Girl had unwrapped it) and elevated it, putting a cold pack on to reduce the swelling.

Shinsou let out a little breath, “Thanks.”

Izuku hummed in acknowledgement. “Of course. Do you know her from somewhere?” He asked, curious.

Shinsou seemed like the kind of person who didn't trust easily, yet he also seemed protective of Uraraka. Izuku wondered if they had met previously.

Shinsou shook his head, settling in one of the chairs next to Uraraka’s bed. “No.” He replied. For the first time, Izuku noticed that his voice was hoarse, like he didn't often use it, “She just..”

The purple-haired boy's voice trailed off, like he didn't quite know how to put his thoughts into words, but Izuku understood. 

Ochaco Uraraka was the type of person you couldn't help wanting to take care of. Izuku had seen her decimating robots during the exam. She was by no means helpless, but she had a light that made you want to protect her.

It reminded Izuku of people like Rengoku, Amane-sama and Mitsuri. That same kind of light had been the reason so many demon slayers had been so taken with them.

Izuku hummed and silence reigned in the infirmary. Shinsou cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Uh… So, Midoriya...” He grunted. Izuku internally cooed, this boy was more emotionally repressed than Tomioka.

Izuku inclined his head sweetly. “Please, call me Izuku.”

He didn't offer any explanation, but Shinsou didn't seem fazed. “If you call me Hitoshi.” He grumbled, running a hand through wild purple hair.

Izuku's eyes softened. “Ooh! You both have to call me Ochaco!” Uraraka’s bright voice called from the bed.

Hitoshi jumped and jerked his head to look at her. Izuku turned calmly, his uniform swishing as he swept over to her side.

“How do you feel?” He asked professionally. Ochaco puffed out her pink cheeks in a pout.

“Achy” She said, “My ankle is still throbbing but everything else seems okay, if a little sore.”

Izuku nodded. “Just take it easy Mochi-chan.” He reprimanded lightly as she tried to swing herself out of bed.

Ochaco flushed, hiding her face in her hands, “I'm never going to get rid of that nickname now, huh?” She moaned.

“Mochi-chan?” Hitoshi asked, eyes narrowed. Ochaco whined and shook her head in clear embarrassment, Izuku smiled demurely.

He reached out a long-nailed finger and poked Ochaco's pink cheek. “Mochi.” He said by way of explanation.

Hitoshi chuckled as Ochaco crossed her arms and pouted profusely. “Hitoshi if you call me that too I won't talk to either of you!”

“I'll stick with Ochaco-san then.” Hitoshi teased. Ochaco beamed, lifting her face from her hands.

“Oh we totally need to exchange phone numbers!” She cheered, already digging in her pocket. Hitoshi blinked at the rapid change of subject and Izuku could feel himself melting.

Inevitably, Izuku's purple flower patterned cellphone and Hitoshi's black, slightly cracked one ended up in Ochaco Uraraka’s hands.

She handed them both back their devices and Izuku peered down at the screen of his phone.

Right under his mother’s home and work numbers were two new contacts to make a total of five.

Izuku couldn't fight back the soft smile that painted his face. 

They might not be hashira, not even equals. But they were friends.

Chapter Text

The next month was almost indistinguishable from the last.

Izuku woke up, trained, ate, went to school, went home, trained, ate, slept. The same routine he had followed for years in this life.

Only now, one thing- or rather two things- were added to his schedule. Those things were Ochaco and Hitoshi.

Now, Izuku woke up to at least three memes Hitoshi had found the night before (probably around three in the morning), and a picture of a cute cat (or snake or monkey or dog or mouse) from Ochaco.

Their companionship was easy, light

And Izuku breathed.

For so long his life had been focused on revenge. Vision constantly tinted red with rage-grief-pain, searching, waiting for Uppermoon 2 to appear.

And then she had fought. She had died and been consumed, lethal amounts of wisteria in her blood. Enough to melt, enough to save Kanao and Hashibira, who she had watched from the After.

He had spent time with Kanae, and their parents. Eventually he had held that foul creature's head in his hand and banished it- to hell.

And then there was Izuku. And quirks. And heroes and life again with no demons. The anger was satisfied, abated.

Izuku had drifted, lost. He had smiled and trained, but he had ached. Always so alone.

Ochaco and Hitoshi were alive. They were here. They were not angry or empty. They were bright and soft and loving.

Izuku woke each new morning feeling loved. The ache, the anger, the loss: it was receding. 

And Izuku's phone chimed, and he smiled.

-

Ctrl+Alt+Del

-

Alt 🍧 》OHMIGOSH! 

ctrl 》 what?

ctrl 》 whos dead

your sleep schedule is ☺️ 《 Iwilldeleteu

ctrl 》stfu

Alt 🍧 》NO

Alt 🍧 》My UA letter came

Alt 🍧 》*[ Attached: 1 image< a shaky image of an unopened envelope embossed with the UA logo > ]*

ctrl 》 OMG

Alt 🍧 》go check ur mail

-

Izuku slid over to the UA letter he had sitting on his desk. He'd gotten it the night before, but was waiting for one of the other two to get theirs.

His phone buzzed in rapid succession a few times and he looked back down.

-

Ctrl+Alt+Del

-

ctrl 》dhshqiwdcl!!

ctrl 》im gonna have a panic attack ustg

ctrl 》*[ attached: 1 image< Hitoshi's face is partially obscured by a blurry envelope. His eyes are wide and the picture seems to have been taken mid-run > ]* 

Alt 🍧 》open on three and report back

Alt 🍧 》1

Alt 🍧 》2

Alt 🍧 》3

-

Izuku set his phone down, turning to the envelope. He wasn't worried. He knew he passed.

He was also confident that Ochaco had made it in. The only thing he was unsure about was Hitoshi. He had not seen his friend during the exam until the very end and had no idea how many points the boy had gotten.

Izuku slid a fingernail under the edge of the envelope and flicked it open. To his confusion, there was no letter, only a metal disc.

He turned it carefully over in his fingers for a moment. Then, suddenly, light shot out of it. Izuku dropped the metal disc quickly, his hand dropping to his waist.

His katana was half-way unsheathed when the light became an image. A hologram, his modern knowledge supplied.

“I AM HERE AS A PROJECTION!” The recording of All Might boomed. The man was dressed in a horrible yellow pinstripe suit and standing in front of a flashing background like this was some sort of gameshow. 

Izuku felt his smile strain. The beginnings of a headache formed behind his eyes, the same spot that ached whenever Shinazugawa yelled or Uzui started rattling on about “flashiness”

“You may be wondering why I am delivering your exam results!” All Might continued. Izuku felt his eye twitch. Yes, yes he was wondering. “I am proud to announce that this year, I will be joining the esteemed UA staff!”

Delightful

“ANYWAYS! On to your exam results!” The blonde forged ahead, “You passed the UA written exam with flying colors, scoring a ninety-four percent!”

“However, you applied for the hero course!” Yes, thank you for the reminder, I forgot that “Which means you also participated in the practical exam!”

The image of All Might was replaced by a digital scoreboard, showing the top five examinees of the practical exam. Izuku's eyes found the top spot.

1. Midoriya Izuku

2. Hitoshi Shinsou

3. Bakugou Katsuki

4. Uraraka Ochaco

5. Kirishima Eijirou

Izuku felt his smile sharpen. Oh he was so going to enjoy this. Unfortunately for his patience, All Might kept talking.

“As you can see, you got eighty-five villain points! Which on its own would be more than enough to pass!”

Izuku raised a curious brow. There was another point system? Most likely for rescuing fellow examinees. It was a clever idea, and one Izuku had to admit he hadn't seen coming.

“However! There is more to being a hero than taking down villains! A true hero risks themselves for the safety of others!”

The scoreboard faded, replaced with footage from the exam. Izuku watched himself, a blur of green hair and black gakuran, grab a red haired girl in his arms and leap out of the way of a robot. He watched as he pulled other students out of the path of the zero-point robot, and saw the camera zoom in on him instructing Hitoshi.

“As a result of your heroic actions, the UA panel of judges has awarded you seventy rescue points, giving you a total of 155 points.”

The scoreboard returned, this time displaying the breakdown of points. Like All Might had explained, Izuku’s name displayed 85 villain points and 70 rescue points, adding up to 155 in the final column.

Below him, Hitoshi had one villain point and seventy-nine rescue points for a total of eighty.

Next was Bakugou, who had seventy-seven villain points but not a single rescue point.

Ochaco had thirty villain points and forty-five rescue points, putting her at seventy-five total points, one point ahead from fifth place.

Fifth place, who was someone named Kirishima Eijirou, had thirty-nine villain points and thirty-five rescue points making a total of seventy-four.

“With one-hundred and fifty-five points, you have placed first and broken my previous record for most points earned by a whopping forty-four points! Welcome to Class 1-A, Midoriya! This is your Hero Academia!”

The projection snapped shut. The ringing silence had only consumed his bedroom for a moment before his phone started buzzing. The poor device rattled so intensely that it almost shook right off the edge of his desk.

Izuku deftly snatched up his phone and opened it. A myriad of texts had popped up, but at the moment Izuku ignored them in favor of accepting the video call coming in from the contact: Mochi-chAaAaaAn <3

Izuku accepted the call and there was a chime as the call connected.

Then the world exploded.

…

Well, not literally. It was just Ochaco, who was squealing and clapping. Hitoshi, who was also on the call, was much more composed, though Izuku could see the proud smile on his lips.

“Oh my god! We did it! We all did it!!!” Ochaco squealed. The small image of her on the screen danced around as she cheered.

“Ara, ara, Mochi-chan.” Izuku said, pressing a hand to his cheek, “Do take a breath. You're going to asphyxiate.”

Hitoshi chuckled and Ochaco flushed, toning down her excitement.

“Still! First and second place! I'm so proud of you guys!” She chirped.

Izuku smiled and Hitoshi ducked his face away from his camera.

“I'm honestly just pleased I beat Bakugou.” Hitoshi shrugged. Izuku shook his head while Ochaco's eyes narrowed.

The two had discovered Izuku's treatment at school when they visited unexpectedly a few weeks previously. Izuku did his best to reassure them that his classmate's words didn't bother him, but neither of his friends was convinced.

Izuku was warmed by their concern, but he honestly found the “bullying” amusing. He knew his worth. He was a hashira, he had given his life and ultimately caused the death of the third strongest demon ever. Middle school bigots didn't bother him.

“Ne, what class are you in?” Izuku changed the subject with a stern smile. Ochaco squeaked, always intimidated by his sugary warnings.

“Class 1-A!” Ochaco announced. Hitoshi's lips quirked slightly and he nodded.

“Same.”

“Oh my, it seems like we will all be in the same class.” Izuku revealed, “I do hope our teacher can survive us all” His words were accompanied by a little giggle.

Ochaco also giggled, stifling it with a hand. Hitoshi groaned, pointing a crooked finger at Izuku accusingly.

“He'll survive Ochaco-san and I just fine, it's you I'm worried about.” The purple-haired boy narrowed his eyes. Izuku gave his sweetest smile.

“Oh, I bet UA training won't be half as bad as training with Izuku!” Ochaco bemoaned, slumping forward over her desk.

Izuku broke into another fit of giggles. Shortly after the entrance exam, Izuku had offered training to both Ochaco and Hitoshi. Ochaco, who lived nearby, agreed to meet in a local park and Hitoshi, who lived a town over, took the train over after school almost daily.

Izuku trained them both like a tsugoku his heart ached for Kanao and had to admit- maybe he enjoyed their suffering just a little bit. Still, both had grown in strength. Ochaco found that total concentration breathing strengthened her quirk as well as her body, even if she couldn't perform It constantly yet.

Hitoshi no longer looked like a noodle, and he wielded a bo staff with natural ease. Neither of his friends could land a hit on Izuku yet, but they were strong and growing stronger. They could protect themselves.

“Have either of you sent in your Hero costume designs yet?” Hitoshi asked, rousing Izuku from his thoughts and Ochaco from her moping.

“No, not yet” Ochaco's eyes sparkled in the way they did when she was excited, “I just have so many ideas that I can't decide on! I know I want some pink in it! And maybe a big white jacket. Something to protect my eyes and ears if I go waaay up high with my quirk!” The girl rambled, “I just don't know!” She finished dramatically.

Hitoshi and Izuku shared amused glances. “Well I'm sure we can help you.” Hitoshi soothed. Izuku grinned.

“And by we, Hitoshi means he can help you.” Izuku corrected, “I have no fashion sense.”

He looked down at his white button down shirt and comfortable slacks. He wasn't used to wearing anything other than his demon slayer uniform in his last life and his middle school gakuran in this life. Izuku was told often by his baffled mother that he dressed much too formal, Izuku just grabbed whatever clothes were convenient.

Ochaco grimaced at his words and nodded in agreement. “No, you're right.” She aqquiesed, “Maybe we need to help you with your costume”

Izuku smiled softly, “I already designed and mailed in mine.” 

His design was simple and familiar. His old demon slayer uniform, tailored to his new body. The purple tinted gakuran and thick white belt, lined with pockets to hold medical supplies and poisons. 

The only thing that differed was his haori. The design had been identical, down to the last stitch, on his original form. Then, two nights ago, when Izuku had gone to tuck the design forms into an envelope… His eyes had caught on the page with the haori.

It hadn’t felt right. That was Kanae-nee's haori. Shinobu had worn it for a while, but it had never truly been hers. So Izuku had thrown the page away and redrawn it.

The size and shape were the same. He kept the delicate lines that looked like the wings of a butterfly. But as he shaded carefully with colored pencils, he changed the colors. Pale pink became a warm purple. The mint green shifted to the soft green of freshly ground herbs.

Small changes but just enough. This haori would belong to Izuku alone- not Kanae.

Ochaco’s excited gasp rang out. “Oh Izuku! You have to show us!” She pleaded.

Izuku shook his head and put a finger to his lips. “You'll have to wait for school to start.” He teased.

Ochaco groaned and Hitoshi shook his head. “We need to get you moving, Ochaco-san. I already submitted my design as well.”

“What?! Hitoshi you have to help meee!” Ochaco begged, looking at the camera with wide eyes. Hitoshi sighed, but Izuku could detect the fond note in it.

“Alright” the other boy agreed. Ochaco squealed.

“Yay! Come on! We'll make me the coolest costume ever and Izuku won't be able to see it until the first day of school!” The only girl of their trio declared. She put both hands on her hips before leaning in and disconnecting from the call.

Izuku snickered, which turned into full on laughter as the sound of a different incoming call rang from Hitoshi's side. The insomniac gave Izuku a sheepish look.

“Sorry Izuku, she’s inviting me to a private call.” 

“Well don't keep her waiting!” Izuku said, waving his hands, “shoo!” 

Hitoshi gave him a grin before reaching forward and also disconnecting. The call ended and Izuku let himself grin like a lunatic for a moment.

Yeah, he loved his friends.

Chapter Text

The walk to the first day of high-school was quiet. Hitoshi had to catch the train in his city over to UA, and Ochaco's parents had wanted to walk her to school.

They had both apologized to Izuku profusely, but he had waved them off. He was running to school anyway, the two wouldn't have been able to keep up.

As it was, Izuku was enjoying the quiet whistling of the wind in his ears as he dashed along early morning streets. He kept a steady hand on his katana hilt. Izuku was surprised and thankful when the principal of UA had responded to his email allowing him to carry his katana in the school. Izuku had been worried that his nichirin blade would be taken away.

He arrived at UA promptly, and made his way inside. He marveled at the sheer size of the school as he changed his shoes.

The building was massive, though he supposed it had to be to accommodate those with size-related quirks. Izuku was immensely grateful for his navigation abilities as he wove through hallways. He passed many students who looked utterly lost.

Finally, Izuku stopped in front of a huge red door that was marked by the sign: Class 1-A. He looked up at it, feeling bittersweet nostalgia rise in his throat.

He was about to take the first step into hero training, just like he'd taken that first step into demon slayer training all those years ago, learning alongside Kanae under Gyomei.

He had lived, fought and died. Yet here he was again, binding himself to the destruction of evil and the protection of the innocent. Izuku took a deep breath, and stepped forward.

“Don’t put your feet on the desk!” The stern voice of the blue-haired boy from the entrance exam greeted Izuku's ears as he entered the classroom.

Bakugou was sitting, feet propped on the surface of a nearby desk. He was glaring at the blue-haired boy like he had offended Bakugou's entire bloodline. A few other students looked on nervously from their own seats scattered across the room. 

Izuku spotted Hitoshi in the far back corner. When they made eye contact, Hitoshi gave a casual nod and a sarcastic peace sign before returning his focus to the dried seaweed he was nibbling on. 

The blue-haired boy had the same uptight expression of disapproval on his face that he'd worn when scolding Izuku.

“Huh?” Bakugou asked aggressively. Izuku's patented “I'm surrounded by fools” headache started to build behind his eyes even as he painted on a smile and took another step into the room.

The reincarnated hashira couldn't decide whether it was going to be incredibly amusing or incredibly irritating to listen to these two snipe at each other.

“Don’t you think that’s rude to the UA upperclassmen and the people who made the desk?!” Blue-haired boy said, making that stiff chopping motion with his arm. Bakugou did what seemed to be a good impression of the edgy female teenage bully in every American movie Izuku and his mom had ever watched (though without the snapping of bubblegum) and looked Blue-haired boy up and down.

“Nope!” Bakugou barked, “What junior high did you go to anyway, you two-bit extra?!”

“I… I attended Soumei Private Academy. My name is Tenya Iida.” Blue-haired boy, Iida, said formally, extending his hand and straightening like he was reciting a military ranking.

“Soumei?!” Bakugou leaned back a bit more in his seat, grinning. Izuku decided this was definitely more irritating than amusing. 

“Ah…” Iida seemed to have sensed that he'd made a mistake.

“So you’re a damn elite, huh?! Looks like I’ll have fun crushing you!” Bakugou snarled, looking like a particularly cruel predator as he spoke.

“Ah! “Crushing”? That’s cruel.” Iida sounded vaguely concerned, like one might be about a rabid animal or a screaming child, “Do you truly aim to be a hero?”

Bakugou tsk-ed, turning away from Iida. Izuku enjoyed watching the moment Bakugou caught sight of him. The blonde paled and flushed at the same time, his teeth visibly gritting.

Izuku was prepared for Bakugou to attempt some kind of attack, but Iida got there first, striding toward Izuku like he was the Japanese Olympic competitor for speed walking.

“Good morning!” Iida declared pompously. Izuku simply continued to smile, tilting his head a little to the left. “I am from Soumei Private Academy. My name is -”

“I heard,” Izuku chirped, “I’m Izuku Midoriya. Nice to meet you again.”

Iida flushed at the reminder of their last encounter, but pushed onward. Izuku was positive that if this boy had lived in the Taishō period, he would have gotten smacked many times for disrespect. 

“Midoriya, you realized there was something more to the practical exam, didn’t you?” Iida bowed a full nintey degrees, which Izuku had only ever done for Oyakata-sama. “I had no idea. You must be very perceptive, and I completely misjudged you. I admit as a student, you’re far superior to me.”

Izuku narrowed his eyes, “Ara, ara, Iida-san. You would have only acted to save others if you knew you would receive points for it?” Izuku paused, letting his honeyed words hang like a guillotine in the air. “Ne, that's not very heroic I'm afraid.”

Iida gaped, his mouth open. He looked extremely offended but Izuku couldn't bring himself to do anything but giggle slightly. Izuku hadn't given any thought to the idea of a secondary point system when he had started saving students. He had done it because it was his duty as a hashira to keep others safe.

Izuku was saved from whatever Iida would say next by the arrival of the two presences which had been approaching from behind. One, which Izuku recognized as Ochaco, bounded up to him as he turned to face her.

“Izuku! Hi!” Ochaco greeted, bouncing on her toes. She scanned the classroom, obviously looking for Hitoshi if the way her face lit up when she saw him was any indication. Ochaco's big brown eyes shone and her UA uniform was crisp. Her long brown hair, which Izuku noticed she usually kept in a bun or loose, was pulled back in a single plait down her back.

Izuku smiled and greeted Ochaco back, but he was focused on the second person who had slithered into the classroom when Ochaco opened the door. Whoever it was was behind the teacher's desk, watching them all.

They were clearly on the floor or crouching, as there was no one visible standing behind the desk. Izuku's eyes dropped. Sure enough, lying on the floor behind the teacher's desk was a yellow sleeping bag. 

Zipped inside was a man with tangled black hair and tired black eyes. He had stubble across the lower half of his face and seemed to be sucking on a pouch of some kind. Despite the man's disheveled appearance, Izuku felt no ill will from him.

There was a calculating glint to his eyes and a certain strict air around him that connected the dots in Izuku's brain. “Ne, ne, Mochi-Chan.” Izuku tapped Ochaco lightly on the shoulder.

Ochaco, who had been getting aggressively introduced to Iida, looked over her shoulder at Izuku. “Hm?”

“Let's take our seats swiftly, the teacher wants to begin class.” Izuku declared, turning his smile on the teacher in the bag. At his words, the chatter in the class diminished and many people snapped their heads forward.

Ochaco squeaked and scurried to her seat. Izuku simply stepped smoothly into his own, leaving Iida standing beside his desk, looking lost. When they did not see a teacher standing behind the desk, most of the students resumed their conversations.

Izuku noted with pride that Hitoshi and Ochaco had managed to spot the teacher, and were watching him closely (though Hitoshi looked wary and Ochaco looked warmly excited).

“Go somewhere else if you want to play at being friends. This is the hero course” The teacher spoke up. A few people yelped, and everyone scrambled to their seats. “Okay, it took eight seconds before you were quiet. Time is limited. You kids are not rational enough.”

The man stood up, looking like a giant caterpillar in his yellow sleeping bag. He unzipped it and stepped out. The teacher was wearing a loose fitting black jumpsuit with a utility belt around his waist and a mountain of white scarf around his neck. Izuku felt his grin widen. Oh yes, he liked this teacher already.

“I’m your homeroom teacher, Shouta Aizawa. Nice to meet you.” The way Aizawa said this implied that it was not nice to meet them at all. He sounded bored and exhausted, like someone had mixed Iguro and Tomioka's personalities.

“Huh?” Many of Izuku's new classmates sweatdropped. 

“It’s kind of sudden, but put this on and go out onto the field.” Aizawa continued. The man reached into the sleeping bag that was scrunched around his hips and drew out a folded blue and red uniform.

Most students stared blankly, like the teacher had asked them to perform an amputation. (That wasn't even that difficult, Izuku had done it).

To their credit, a few people (Bakugou, Hitoshi, Ochaco, a boy with red and white hair, a frog-like girl, and a crow) had started moving. 

Izuku spotted Hitoshi and Ochaco waiting for him at the doorway and slipped forward. He grabbed a uniform for each of them and together they headed out of the classroom, not bothering to see if their classmates followed.

-

Izuku was positive that he was radiating anger. Not that anyone except maybe Ochaco and Hitoshi seemed to pick up on it.

He was standing in the exercise uniform that Aizawa had provided, hands clasped in front of him and his eyes creased in a smile.

There would normally be nothing wrong with this, except for the fact that Izuku had been standing there for fifteen minutes. He, Ochaco and Hitoshi had dressed and gotten back to the field just as Aizawa was arriving.

Here they were, fifteen minutes later, and the only person to have successfully changed and made it out was the red and white haired boy.

The silence was awkward, and Izuku felt more than saw Ochaco and Hitoshi leaning away from him warily.

Another person finally joined them, the frog-like girl. She stood next to Ochaco and shot him a glance.

“Why’s he so mad, kero?” The girl asked, putting a finger on her cheek.

Ochaco and Hitoshi sighed in unison, “Every second you waste preparing is a second off the life of an innocent.” They repeated dully.

The frog-girl looked startled but Izuku just nodded proudly at his friends. “I'm so proud.” He simpered. From a few feet away, Izuku thought Aizawa might of given a slightly hysterical laugh.

The quiet of the field was suddenly broken as the remaining members of Class 1-A poured out from the locker rooms. They were all strolling leisurely, chatting and laughing.

Izuku could sense the disapproval that Aizawa exuded as he crossed his arms. Finally, once the other students had crossed the field and were standing across from the teacher, he struck.

“It took you all twenty minutes to change your clothes. That is unacceptable. This time could mean life or death in hero work.” The students gaped, one boy with yellow hair started spluttering. “Anyway, we're doing a quirk assessment test.”

“A Quirk assessment test?!” Many people gasped. Izuku tilted his head. This man was very concerned with what was logical, it made perfect sense to have a test that would establish a baseline for students to improve from.

“What about the entrance ceremony? The orientation?” Ochaco raised her hand nervously. “It has important information!”

“If you’re going to become a hero, you don’t have time for such leisurely events.” Aizawa informed them all. “The information from the orientation will be available online for you to persue on your own time.”

Ochaco flushed and bowed to their teacher, “Thank you, Sensei.”

“U.A.’s selling point is how unrestricted its school traditions are.” Aizawa continued. As he spoke he pulled a softball and some kind of device from the folds of his jumpsuit. “That’s how the teachers run their classes.”

“Ahh…” Ripples of agreement and dissent rose from the cluster of teenagers.

“You kids have been doing these since junior high, too, right? Physical fitness tests where you weren’t allowed to use your Quirks?” Aizawa asked dully. Everyone dutifully nodded. 

“The country still uses averages taken from results from students not using their Quirks. It’s not rational. Well, the Ministry of Education is procrastinating.” Iida looked like he was going to burst at the seams from holding his tongue as Aizawa spoke. The dark haired man turned and held out his palm, the softball he had produced sitting atop it.

“Where did he get that?!” A voice somewhere behind Izuku hissed. He saw a pink girl elbow the boy next to her.

“Shinsou, you finished second in the practical exam, right?” Aizawa was holding the softball in front of Hitoshi. 

A boy with spiky hair to Izuku's right whispered, “I guess first place isn't in our class” into his neighbor's ear.

Izuku just watched as Hitoshi hesitantly took the softball in his own hand. Izuku was not offended that the teacher skipped over him. He knew his own strength, he wasn't like Shinazugawa or Iguro, he had no desire to show off.

Hitoshi looked sideways at Izuku who gave him a gentle smile. Hitoshi stepped forward toward their teacher.

“In junior high, what was your best result for the softball throw?” Aizawa asked.

“twenty-nine meters.” Hitoshi drawled, his long fingers twisting the softball.

“Then try doing it with your Quirk.” Their teacher prompted, “You can do whatever you want as long as you stay in the circle. Hurry up. Give it all you’ve got.” 

Hitoshi's eyes flickered with uncertainty. Izuku and Ochaco had been doing their best to get Hitoshi more comfortable with using his quirk, but he had faced so much discrimination that it was a long process.

The boy's purple eyes passed over Izuku and locked on Ochaco, who was watching him with a huge smile. “Ochaco-san?” Hitoshi asked.

Ochaco bounced a little on her toes and beamed. She had obviously caught on to Hitoshi's plan and was only too happy to comply. “Yes Hitoshi?” She responded. Everyone around her gasped rather dramatically as Ochaco's face went slack and her eyes turned white.

“Come use your quirk on this ball for me, please.” Hitoshi commanded her. Ochaco walked toward him, her movements smooth. Hitoshi handed over the ball and Ochaco's fingers lit up pink as she activated her quirk.

The ball rose into the air, floating steadily upward. Everyone craned their neck to watch as it vanished into the clouds. Hitoshi waited a few more moments, then Ochaco's form twitched as he released his own quirk.

Ochaco peered up into the clouds and then pressed her fingertips together. “Release!” 

The ball must have gone quite high, because it didn't come back down.

“Know your own maximum first.” Aizawa announced gruffly, “That is the most rational way to form the foundation of a hero.”

Their teacher flipped around the device he was holding. It must have been the device for measuring the distance the ball traveled, because there was a little infinity sign on the screen. Ochaco cheered and threw her arms around Hitoshi.

“Woah!” A girl in the back shouted.

“Infinity? Seriously? What the hell is his quirk?” A voice muttered.

“What’s this? It looks fun!” A pink-skinned girl cheered. Aizawa’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“We can use our Quirks as much as we want! As expected from the hero course!” Iida pushed his glasses up his nose with one finger.

Izuku felt his eye twitch. What part of “use your quirk for this assessment” translated to “You can use your powers whenever you decide?”. These children were going to die before they even graduated.

“It looks fun, huh?” Aizawa's voice was low and dangerous. His eyes held a rage that Izuku was too familiar with. His new teacher knew death, and Izuku admired that he was doing his best to protect these students from it, “You have three years to become a hero. Will you have an attitude like that the whole time?”

“Ah…” Most students shuffled awkwardly.

“All right. Whoever comes in last place in all eight tests will be judged to have no potential and will be punished with expulsion.”

There was an outcry of protests and noise. Izuku's smile was vicious.

“Expulsion?!” A girl who seemed to be invisible cried out, “That's not fair!”

Izuku pressed his fingertips together, leaning toward the girl. “Oh my! Are natural disasters fair? Fires?” He asked sweetly, “Innocent people die every day- our teacher is trying to stop you from becoming one of them. So perhaps you should try your hardest instead of complaining? Hm?”

Everyone around him stared. Hitoshi looked tired and Ochaco was covering her mouth with a hand, looking like she was trying not to laugh. Aizawa-sensei sighed, but Izuku could see the approving glint in his eyes.

 “The world is full of unfairness.” Aizawa-sensei monologued, “It’s a hero’s job to try to combat that unfairness. If you want to be a pro, you’re gonna have to push yourself to the brink. For the next three years, U.A. will throw one terrible hardship after another at you. So go beyond. Plus Ultra style. Show me it’s no mistake that you’re here.”

The speech was harsh, nothing like the gentle encouragement Oyakata-sama used to give out. However, it was inspiring nonetheless.

Izuku's classmates' expressions hardened and their determination was palpable. The first test was announced as a fifty-meter dash, and they were organized into groups of two to test.

Izuku ended up being placed in the third group with Hitoshi. They watched as the other two groups went. Ochaco was the second fastest student, being beaten by Iida, who had engines in his legs.

When it was Izuku and Hitoshi's turn, they took their positions on the starting blocks. An automated device called out: “Get set… go!” Hitoshi took off, and Izuku could see the improvement in the boy’s speed from a month ago.

Izuku gave Hitoshi another few moments before he moved. A push of his legs, a flap of his arms, and-

Beep!

“1.43 seconds!” The computer announced. Izuku landed lightly, turning to watch Hitoshi sprint across the finish line.

Beep!

“4.21 seconds!”

Hitoshi skidded to a halt, his breathing steady. Izuku listened to the sound of Hitoshi's inexperienced Total Concentration Breathing rattle his lungs.

Where Ochaco had struggled to grasp the technique, Hitoshi had taken to Total Concentration Breathing like a fish to water. The boy wasn't able to do it constantly yet, but he could use it to enhance himself.

When the first trial ended, Izuku had the fastest time, followed by the red and white boy, who seemed to avoid everyone else like the plague. Then came Iida who was closely tailed by Hitoshi.

The next trial was a grip strength test. Izuku wasn't surprised to find his grip strength clocked in at only 50.5 kilograms.

The strongest was a boy with multiple arms who had a grip strength of 540 kilograms. Hitoshi and Ochaco also landed solidly in the middle of the pack, with Ochaco being higher than Hitoshi and Hitoshi coming in just above Izuku.

A few of the boys crowded the boy with the arms, exclaiming excitedly.

“Wow! Five-hundred forty kilograms is crazy” A black haired boy said excitedly.

Izuku scored first in the long jump, easily jumping over three times the length of the provided sandbox. He had to hide his slight frustration behind a smile, knowing that he would have gotten much farther with his haori.

Repeated side steps and the distance running trials again ended with Izuku on top. He had fun keeping pace with the girl who had created rollerskates with her quirk for the distance run. Her face as he kept up with her for one, two, five, ten laps was enough to make Izuku giggle. 

Finally, after the two had done five laps even after every other student had tapped out from exhaustion, Aizawa told them to stop and decreed that trial a tie. 

“Good race!” Izuku told her cheerily, extending a hand. The girl shook it, looking slightly shell shocked.

“Uh yeah…” Then she shook her head and laughed, “You must have an endurance quirk of some kind, no?”

Izuku simply shook his own head and pressed a finger to his lips, smiling mischievously.

Finally, after sit ups and a flexibility test that Ochaco crushed, the class returned to the field for everyone else to participate in the ball toss.

Ochaco volunteered to go first, and again got an infinity. Surprisingly, her ball throw caused the class to erupt into shouts.

“Wait?! So the pink was her quirk all along!?” Someone shouted.

“Did that other boy make her use it for his attempt?” A voice cried, outraged.

“So not manly!” Someone lamented. Izuku watched as Hitoshi folded into himself, his shoulders hunching.

The familiar feeling of anger, sweet and deadly like poison leeched into his veins, and he opened his mouth to respond. Ochaco beat him to it, her round face flushed with anger.

“Hitoshi is one of my best friends! His quirk is amazing and he's already ten times the hero the rest of you are!” She shouted, normally warm brown eyes molten, “He's, he’s so cool, stop making him feel bad just because you're quirkist bullies!” She stamped her foot.

Ochaco steamed over to Hitoshi and grabbed his hand dramatically. Izuku also shifted closer, watching them. Hitoshi looked steamrolled (in a good way) by Ochaco's defense, his pale face flooded with color.

The rest of the class seemed appropriately chastised and a few mumbled apologies. Ochaco just huffed and pressed closer to Hitoshi.

Everyone seemed subdued as they continued through the ball throw. Izuku watched most of his classmates score averagely. Only a few, like the black haired girl, Bakugou, and a boy with large lips, had quirks that were helpful for this kind of propulsion. 

Still, Izuku saw even more who could have used their quirks yet didn't. The frog girl, who appeared to have enhanced legs for jumping, threw her ball only forty meters with her arms, instead of kicking the ball or even jumping up to get more height.

Iida, who had engines in his legs could have done something similar but instead chucked his ball, achieving only thirty-three meters.

When it was Izuku's turn, he held the ball in his hand, turning it for a moment. He rested a hand on his katana hilt, thinking. If he tried to use his katana on this ball the most he would do is pierce it through.

He looked over his shoulder and caught the eyes of the black haired girl, the one with the creation quirk. “Ne, Creati-chan.” Izuku called gently.

The girl looked startled, “Me? Uh, yes?” 

Izuku beckoned her with a gentle smile, “May I ask you to create a wooden sword for me?” He asked, “I would use mine, but I fear I would puncture this poor ball.”

The girl nodded and in no time was pulling a wooden katana from her forearm. Izuku took it with thanks. He gave a few practice swings to get acquainted with the weight.

Aizawa-sensei was watching with narrowed eyes. “Some time today, Midoriya.” He called. Izuku smiled at him.

“Patience is a virtue, Sensei!” He chirped. Then, with a lung full of air, he tossed the softball up. He was acutely aware of the teacher's eyes flaring red, his hair and scarf rising. Interesting…

His sword swung. “Insect Breathing, Dance of the Bee Sting: True Flutter!” The practice sword impacted the ball as it began to fall back toward the earth.

Izuku landed on the tips of his toes as the ball was launched away from him. Wasps and bees danced in its wake. The softball did not boom like Bakugou's had, and it didn't flash past either. It seemed to float through the air before rolling to a stop.

Aizawa-sensei raised an eyebrow as he turned the device for everyone to see. 705.5 meters.

Everyone gaped. “Woah!” A girl gasped.

“So manly!” Someone declared.

“What kinda quirk is THAT?!” A blonde boy wailed, his eyes huge.

Izuku looked at the wooden sword which had cracked with the force of his strike. He handed it back to its dumbfounded creator, using his own hand to wrap her fingers around it as he stepped back toward his friends.

“Hey!” There was a stomping of feet. Izuku lifted his head to see Bakugou charging him, palms blazing. “Tell me what’s going on, Deku! You bastard!”

Izuku calmly stepped to the side and let Bakugou barrel past. “Oh dear, Kacchan. What do you mean?” He asked kindly. 

Bakugou growled and turned on his heel, raising his arm for another explosion. “You quirkless fuck! What was that?!” 

Suddenly, Aizawa-sensei's white scarf came shooting forward, wrapping around Bakugou and binding him tightly.

“What the… This cloth is hard!” Bakugou growled, struggling fruitlessly. Izuku looked at his teacher gratefully. He didn't truly need help, but he wasn't going to protest it.

“They’re weapons for capture made of carbon fiber woven together with a metal wire made of a special alloy.” Aizawa-sensei explained, reeling the blonde in like he was a fish. Izuku noticed that his eyes were red again, his hair floating. “Stop making me use my Quirk over and over. It's giving me dry eye.” Aizawa scolded Bakugou, who looked two seconds short of frothing at the mouth.

“Oh my god…” Hitoshi gasped from a few feet away. “Our teacher is Eraserhead?!” Izuku suspected it was the closest to squealing Hitoshi would ever get.

Izuku looked over his teacher with new eyes. He had known the man must be a hero of some kind, but he hadn't known that he was Hitoshi's favorite hero.

The purple-haired boy had spent no short length of time explaining the wonders of Underground Hero: Eraserhead to his two friends.

So when he was looking at me with red eyes as I struck the softball… A hint of mischief curled on Izuku's lips, Ah. He was testing to see if I really was quirkless. I wonder if he was surprised by his results? Izuku flashed the dark man a sweet smile and delicpately stepped to rejoin Ochaco and Hitoshi.

Their teacher released Bakugou, who looked like he was going through all five stages of grief at once.

“Okay, I’ll quickly tell you the results. The total is simply the marks you got from each test. It’s a waste of time to explain verbally, so I’ll show you the results all at once.” Aizawa-sensei grumbled, his scarf resetting around his shoulders.

The teacher took a few steps to the left and clicked a button. A screen, not unlike the acceptance letter hologram, appeared with a whir.

Izuku scanned the leaderboard. The creation girl, whose name was revealed to be Momo Yaoyorozu came in first, two points above second place who was someone called Todoroki.

After Todoroki was Izuku, followed by Bakugou. Ochaco was a few spaces above Hitoshi, both of them toward the middle.

Izuku's eyes caught on the name in last place. Toru Hagakure. He looked to see the floating uniform let out a cry, identifying Hagakure as the invisible girl.

Her shoulders shook as everyone else let out sighs of relief. 

“By the way, I was lying about the expulsion.” Aizawa-sensei said as he walked past, heading inside the building. “It was a rational deception to draw out the upper limits of your Quirks.”

“WHAT?!” Many people started shouting. The girl, Hagakure, sniffled and Ochaco slid an arm around her.

“Of course that was a lie. It should’ve been obvious if you just thought it through.” Yayaorozu declared, looking puzzled.

Hitoshi shook his head, “Nah, Eraserhead expelled a whole first-year class last year. He probably just saw that Hagakure was giving all her effort and thought she had potential.” The brain-washer grunted. Hagakure wailed and muffled her cries in Ochaco's uniform. 

Ochaco gave Hitoshi a grateful smile, recognizing the clumsy attempt to cheer the other girl up, which caused the boy to flush and turn away.

Izuku followed his friend to the changing room with a knowing smile on his lips.

Chapter Text

The rest of the first day of UA was full of introductions and teachers. It all blurred in Izuku's mind, a tide of unimportant people and information until the middle of the next day.

Foundational Heroics class, the reason everyone was truly here. The tension in the air was palpable as everyone waited to see who would enter the room.

“I AM… coming through the door like a normal person!”

Izuku watched as All Might burst through the door, grinning wildly. Izuku grabbed a vial of headache reliever from his pocket and sipped it demurely.

The rest of the class had a much more positive reaction to the blonde hero.

“Ahh!”

“It’s All Might!”

“Wow, he really is a teacher!”

“That’s a costume from the Silver Age, isn’t it? Its style is so different, it’s giving me goosebumps.”

Instead of quieting the class like Aizawa-sensei would have, the man laughed boisterously at the gasps and comments.

“I teach Foundational Heroics. It is a subject where you train in different ways to learn the basics of being a hero. You’ll take the most units of this subject!” All Might declared, standing with his hands on his hips.

Furious whispers and giggles broke out among the students, but Izuku was focused on All Might. The man was standing strangely.

His doctor's brain went into overdrive. The blonde's left arm was drooping, his side curled in like he was in pain. Izuku watched with narrowed eyes as the next breath All Might took expanded only the right side of his chest. Pain flashed in those odd blue eyes, too fast for anyone else to catch.

Izuku pursed his lips. Was the hero teaching class while injured? Or was this an old injury?

“Let’s get right into it!” All Might continued after the chatter had mostly abated. Izuku placed thoughts of All Might's medical conditions aside to focus. “This is what we’ll do today. Combat training!”

Izuku raised an eyebrow. Combat training? Already? Perhaps the man was simply trying to make the exercises or forms he would be teaching sound more exciting.

“And to go with that are these! Costumes made based on your Quirk registrations and requests you sent in before school started!” All Might lifted a huge hand and waved at the far wall.

Little cases popped out of the wall, each one numbered according to their owner’s seat number.

“Woah!” Everyone gasped. Even Izuku was grudgingly impressed by the display.

“After you change, gather at Ground Beta!” All Might informed the students. Then he marched out of the classroom.

There was a mad rush for the costumes, but Izuku managed to snag his before the crowd consumed him. He walked with Hitoshi and Ochaco to the locker rooms again.

“I can't believe All Might is really teaching us!” Ochaco chirped, skipping every few steps. “I didn't even know he had a teaching license.”

Hitoshi's face scrunched up in doubt. “I don't know that he does.”

Ochaco widened her eyes and looked between her two companions. “But, he shouldn't be teaching without a license.” She protested.

Hitoshi shrugged, “I don't know, I just think he seems a litlle…”

“Stupid?” Izuku offered cheerily. Hitoshi thought about it for a moment before tilting his head in concession.

“Yeah.” He said, “Just a bit”

They reached the locker rooms and split, Izuku and Hitoshi to one side and Ochaco to the other.

Izuku changed quickly and got out. He tried not to think of how odd it felt to be changing in front of teenage boys. He technically was a teenage boy, but he was also an adult woman. It just felt strange.

He kept his eyes on his locker and moved quickly. His process was only slightly disrupted when he opened the case. 

Folded neatly inside was an achingly familiar uniform. He ran his fingers over the haori, its delicate stitching almost bringing forth tears.

Izuku took a few deep breaths before continuing. He could be emotional later.

He was first to arrive at Ground Beta, which turned out to be another false city like the one used for the entrance exams. Izuku pondered briefly how UA got the money for all of this.

Slowly, his classmates began to trickle out. Thankfully, they seemed to have gotten the message from Aizawa-sensei yesterday and didn't waste too much time in the locker rooms.

Izuku noticed with no small amount of horror as the girls emerged from their locker room. Yayaorozu was wearing the skimpiest outfit Izuku had ever seen, it was essentially a leotard with a boob window.

Izuku choked as Hagakure came out, seemingly naked except for gloves and boots as those were all that could be seen. 

His anger boiled as Ochaco and Hitoshi joined him. Hitoshi's costume was fine, good even.

It was a simple black jumpsuit, similar to Aizawa-sensei’s. It had white accents and a white utility belt. The bottom half of the purple-haired boy’s face was obscured by a white mask that was covered in dials and knobs. The costume was sensible.

On the other hand, Ochaco's was skin tight. She had a pale pink top and darker pink shorts, covered by loose white sleeves that connected at her throat. She had chunky green boots and the head gear she had described to reduce the effects of high altitude. The costume would be adorable if not for the top cut of the top and the length of the shorts.

Izuku almost offered Ochaco his haori. Then he noticed her face. Unlike Yayaorozu, who looked distinctly uncomfortable, or Hagakure, whose gloves made it obvious she was trying desperately to cover herself, Ochaco was beaming.

She swished her sleeves and stood proudly, entirely in her element. Hitoshi stood beside her, sending dark looks at anyone who looked for too long (the main offender was a yellow-haired boy ) while simultaneously avoiding looking at their friend’s outfit.

Izuku let out a breath. If Ochaco was comfortable, he wasn't going to force her to cover up.

When the last member of the class joined the group, All Might clapped his hands.

“They say the costume makes the hero, young men and ladies.” He began dramatically. Many people straightened proudly. Izuku simply raised an eyebrow, sliding a smile on like another piece of his uniform. “Be fully aware that from now on… you are heroes! That’s great, everyone. You all look cool!

Now, shall we begin, you zygotes?” All Might asked.

It seemed like he was trying to be stern, but it failed miserably. Ochaco giggled into her hand and Hitoshi looked at Izuku with raised eyebrows.

‘Zygotes?’ He mouthed. Izuku shrugged helplessly as Ochaco continued to giggle silently, now clapping both hands over her mouth.

“Now, it’s time for combat training!” 

“Sir!” Iida’s voice came from inside what seemed to be a boxy, white robot, “This is a battle center from the entrance exam, so will we be conducting urban battles again?”

“No, we’re going to move ahead two steps! Most of the time, fighting villains takes place outside, but if you look at the total numbers, atrocious villains appear indoors at a higher rate.” All Might informed Class 1-A sanctimoniously. Izuku had to stifle a laugh this time.

Appear? The man spoke like villains spawned in like demons. There was no denying that combat could happen inside, but villains were criminals who used their quirks. He was pretty sure more people did that outside.

“Imprisonment, house arrest, backroom deals. In this society filled with heroes…” All Might paused and shuffled- were those notecards?! Gods above who hired this man? “ahem… truly intelligent villains hide in the shadows!” The blonde finished.

“For this class, you’ll be split into villains and heroes and fight 2-on-2 indoor battles.” 

Izuku closed his eyes and prayed to avoid screaming. It was the second day of school. What was this blonde balloon of a hero thinking sending untrained children against each other in battle on the first day?!

He hadn't even allowed Kanao to pick up a sword until she could burst a small gourd with her breath! 

It wasn't like Izuku was worried for himself. He was also confident that Ochaco and Hitoshi could mostly handle a battle. He picked out a couple others like a boy in a martial arts uniform who seemed at least a little experienced.

Still, the majority of these children had never used their quirk except for a few mundane times as a child. Someone was going to get severely injured.

Izuku raised a hand. He saw Hitoshi and Ochaco scoot nervously away from him when they caught sight of the poisonously sweet smile on his lips “Without basic training?” He asked politely. 

“This is a real battle to understand those basics!” The hero boomed. Izuku resisted the urge to draw his sword, he would probably be expelled for threatening a teacher, even on behalf of his fellow students’ saftey. “However, the key this time is that there’s no robot you can just beat up.”

“How will wins and losses be determined?” Yayaorozu asked, raising a hand. Others began shouting out questions as well. Immediately All Might began to look overwhelmed, his expression helpless.

“Can we beat them up anyway?” Bakugou called, pounding a sparking fist into his open palm.

“Will the punishment be expulsion like with Mr. Aizawa?” The girl with pink skin called.

“How shall we be split up?” Iida asked. His arm-chopping motion looked even more unnatural encased in blinding white metal. 

“Isn’t this cape crazy?” The boy with a French accent asked, swirling his cape. He was looking fixedly at a point to the right above everyone's head and Izuku wondered if he was slightly insane.

“Uhh…” The adult floundered, “I’ll answer all your questions! Now listen here.”

All Might shuffled his notecards again and looked down at them. He scratched the back of his head before looking back over the students.

“The situation is that the villains have hidden a nuclear weapon somewhere in their hideout. The heroes are trying to dispose of that. The heroes need to catch the villains or get the nuclear weapon back in the allotted time. The villains need to protect the nuclear weapon for the whole time or catch the heroes.”

“The situation feels very American…” Ochaco whispered to Hitoshi.

“Teams and opponents will be determined by drawing lots!” All Might finished. Izuku tilted his head. At least one part of this god-forsaken exercise was reasonable.

“They’re being decided so haphazardly?!” Iida sounded outraged. All Might froze, like he wasn't expecting to need an explanation for that.

“Ara, ara. Don’t heroes often have to team with those they may not know well?” Izuku narrowed his eyes at Iida and All Might.

“I see. The discernment to look ahead… Please excuse my rudeness!” Iida bowed low. All Might looked incredibly relieved, leading Izuku to believe that he hadn't planned random teams for that reason at all.

“It’s fine. Let’s do this quickly!” The man clad in primary colors waved his hand. He distributed softballs marked with letters.

Izuku turned his softball over in his hand. Printed on the side was: A. Izuku looked around. Ochaco was holding a ball marked B and Hitoshi's was marked C.

All around the room people were finding their partners. There was a tap on Izuku's shoulder.

“Are you… my partner?” A voice asked. Izuku turned, smile bright.

His eyes found blue and gray. Izuku felt his his smile drop. His eyes widened. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, the noises of chattering teenagers drowned out.

Standing barely two feet away from him was a boy, hand outstretched. He had a softball marked A, but Izuku hardly noticed that.

His eyes were dull, and heterochromatic. The right eye was a warm gray-brown and the left was a deep, calm blue. Tomioka?

He had split hair as well, red and white. It was long, pulled back into a spiky low ponytail. He had a simple hero costume, a deep blue-black gakuran with gold buttons, a cream colored belt and white boots.

Izuku couldn't breath. Slowly, very slowly he reached out a hand and placed it on the softball the other boy was still cupping.

His eyes scanned that face, pale skin disrupted by a scar splattered over his blue eye, like someone had tried to burn away the ocean held within that gaze.

There was a desperation in his searching, Izuku knew it, his own eyes trying to find the slightest bit of recognition in the other's.

“hello…” Izuku breathed, afraid even speaking too loudly would shatter the moment. The other boy didn’t respond, merely stared with those calm, calm eyes. Izuku took a shallow breath in, “Ne, its rude to ignore people you know.”

His voice lacked its usual life, but he saw something spark in those eyes. But as soon as it was there it was gone, his face shuttering as All Might spoke again.

“The first teams to fight will be… These guys!” All Might boomed, displaying a chart with the letters broken into pairs. The screen displayed A and D going first. “Team A will be the heroes, and Team D will be the villains! Everyone else, head toward the monitor room.”

“Yes, sir!” Most students said, and headed to the exit. Hitoshi gave Izuku an awkward thumbs up while Ochaco gave him a big smile.

Izuku pulled his hand away from where it had been resting on the ball. “Villain team, go in first and set up! In five minutes, the hero team will break in, and the battle will start!” All Might instructed.

“Yes, sir!” Iida called like he was answering a drill sargent.

“Young Iida, Young Bakugou, learn to think from the perspective of the villains. This is pretty close to a real battle. Go all out. Don’t be afraid to get hurt.”

“Yes, sir!” Iida called again. Izuku suddenly realized that the rest of the class had fully left. Team D, which was revealed to be Iida and Bakugou stood nearby.

“If things go too far, I will stop it.” All Might finished.

“Yes, sir!” Iida shouted. Izuku giggled.

“He sounds ridiculous.” He snickered as Iida marched stifly into the building, followed by Bakugou who was walking like an angry toddler.

“I…” Izuku's eyes found the other again as he spoke, “We have to battle… But afterwards” there was an awkward pause, “We can… talk?” 

Izuku nodded, the other's shoulders seemed to lose some of their tension. He allowed his mind to shift into planning mode.

“Bakugou will certainly come straight to attack me.” He declared, raising a finger.

“He doesn't like you.” The other said simply. Izuku nodded, amused.

“You can… fight him. I can handle Iida.” There was no question about whether Izuku could handle Bakugou, no doubt of Izuku's ability.

His chest ached with familiarity and warm-warm-warm.

“Good plan!” Izuku praised, lifting onto his toes. The other boy just nodded. “The weapon is probably toward the middle!” Izuku theorized, “to avoid either extreme of high and low.”

“Now, let’s start the indoor person-to-person combat training between Team A and Team D!” All Might announced over a loudspeaker.

Green met gray and blue one more time. Izuku nodded and they were both off. Izuku dashed through the front door, matched almost step for step by his partner. 

Izuku kept a hand on his katana as they circled the first floor. The building was a twist of stainless steel hallways that intersected randomly. When they cleared the first floor, they moved up another.

The second floor looked almost exactly the same as the first and yielded the same result. Neither the faux weapon or their opponents were on the second floor.

On the third floor, they had barely cleared three halls before they encountered Bakugou. The blonde was stalking around, and happened to turn the corner at the same time as Izuku and the other. Bakugou immediately roared and charged. “Fight me, Deku!”

Izuku nimbly leapt to the side to dodge Bakugou's attack, watching as his partner did the same. Bakugou turned on his heel and flung an explosion.

Izuku shot his partner a look. Thankfully the other understood, and in a blur of red and white, he was gone around a corner.

Izuku smiled serenly as Bakugou wound up for a strike. “Come, Deku. Don’t dodge.” The blonde growled.

“I figured you’d come for me first, Kacchan.” Izuku flipped deftly out of Bakugou's path.

“I won’t do so much damage that this fight gets stopped, but I’m gonna get close!” Bakugou shouted, clearly attempting to intimidate Izuku. Izuku smirked.

“Oh dear, please don't hurt yourself!” He cooed. Bakugou had pulled back his arm for a huge right hook, the same way he always did. Izuku pushed up with his legs

He reveled in the height his haori granted him as he flapped his arms. A pointed foot landed on Bakugou's right shoulder, bringing the boy down. Izuku landed with his other foot slamming the blonde's head into the concrete floor.

It was quick work to bind the boy in the special capture tape provided now that he was knocked out. Izuku found the stairs to the next floor and ascended, his mind running.

Bakugou completely ignored everything else and shot at me. I knew it. If they were going to send an advance guard, it would have been better to send Iida, who has more mobility, and I’m sure he knows that. That means he’s running wild on his own, and the two of them aren’t working together. This is fine. All that’s left is to find the weapon and Iida, and then I’ll head over for a two-on-one fight.

Izuku was dashing lightly forward when a flash caught his eye. There was a stream of water hovering in the air, coming from a side hall, glinting in the light.

Izuku changed direction to follow the water to its source. A few meters down the hall, Izuku found his partner standing silently outside a door.

His hands were pressed together, the water flowing from them. On closer inspection, Izuku saw that ice crystals were being produced from his right hand and melting just as fast with a small flicker of flame from his left hand, leaving a constantly flowing ‘beam’ of water.

As Izuku approached, the boy looked up at him. He dropped his right hand and the water quickly evaporated without ice to replenish it. “Are you okay?” The boy asked.

“Perfectly so,” Izuku smiled. The other boy nodded and tilted his head toward the open doorway.

“He’s in there.” 

Izuku leaned forward enough to peer around the corner. Sure enough, a quick glance revealed a mostly empty room, with Iida pacing in front of the paper mâiche bomb, monologuing rather dramatically. Izuku locked eyes with his partner, who raised his hands.

Izuku nodded with a sneaky smile. The other pressed his hands together and thrust them at Iida. A jet of water shot out and caught the blue-haired boy in the chest, sending him flying across the room.

Izuku dashed across and laid a gentle hand on the weapon. 

“Hero Team Wins!” The booming voice sounded from the speakers. Izuku watched as his partner crossed the room and offered a hand to Iida.

“Good job, you beat me soundly!” Iida declared, taking the hand up. The other boy simply nodded and drooped his arm, moving to stand next to Izuku.

“Please return to the monitor room for a debr-” The rest of All Might's statement was drowned out by the sound of feet and angry shouts.

Bakugou burst into the room, eyes wild. His chest was heaving with each breath and he hadn't even bothered removing the capture tape from his arms. It looked like the blonde had just ripped them apart, leaving tape trailing from his arms like silk.

“You quirkless fuck!” Bakugou screamed. Izuku felt disgust curl in his chest. The boy looked livid, spitting like a spoiled brat who had been denied a toy. “How dare you look down on me!”

Iida and Izuku's partner exchanged looks, apparently a little lost. “The exercise is over.” The dual-haired boy offered.

Bakugou ignored him. “You think you're better than me?!” He screamed. “I'll show you your place!”

The blonde whipped out one of the gauntlets he had on his wrists. It was designed like a giant grenade, pin and all. Izuku was not expecting the next several things that happened almost at once.

First, Bakugou spoke, words lost in the chaos that followed. Izuku assumed they were insults based on Bakugou's usual patterns. Then, he pulled the trigger.

The gauntlets must have been storing his sweat somehow, because when the blonde pulled the pin, there was a detonation the size of which Izuku had never seen from the boy before.

He reacted instinctively, leaping back from the mass of burning nitroglycerin that tore through the room. At the same time, a wall of ice shot up. At least three feet thick, a frozen blockade formed from the boy behind Izuku, protecting them from the onslaught.

Iida wasn't so lucky. Izuku saw the slight panic in his companion's eyes, saw him turn to protect the blue-haired boy as well, but the explosion was already upon them.

The ice melted away, leaving two of them exposed but unharmed. Bakugou was grinning like a fool.

“Hah! You- you…” Izuku watched the grin fade, but he was already speaking.

“Do you enjoy seeing others suffer, hm?” Izuku asked, taking a step forward. He was much shorter than Bakugou but the boy suddenly seemed small. “Or are you such a dimwitted fool that you do not see the monster you have become?” Izuku's head tilted. There was no smile in sight despite the light tone of his words.

Bakugou did not respond. “Do you seriously believe you could ever be a hero like this? Ne, Bakugou you just attacked three classmates because you couldn't handle losing a simple battle trial. I don't know whether it says more about this society or your own astronomically large ego that you cannot comprehend the fact that you are the exact opposite of a good person. I only hope someone humbles you before you end up slaughtering a civilian, you-”

“Kocho.” Izuku's furiously calm words were cut off. He turned to see Tomioka kneeling next to the prone form of Iida.

With one last stern look at Bakugou, the boy swept over to his classmates.

The sight was not pretty. Izuku had seen worse, chewed up limbs and massacred children. Still, that didn't negate the gruesome sight of Tenya Iida on the floor, steaming like a demon in the sun.

Izuku dropped to his knees, letting Tomioka pull back so he could work. “Iida-kun, can you hear me?” He asked gently, jostling the boy slightly.

There was no response and Izuku set to work. It was impossible to tell how badly Iida was injured with his armor on. Some sections were easy to remove.

His boots slid right off and the leg casings popped open when Tomioka applied pressure. Similarly, his arm bracers detached with no complications, allowing Izuku to check Iida’s pulse. There were no burns here. Other sections of the costume were in much worse shape.

The burns on Iida’s torso were fairly straightforward to treat, probably first degree. Izuku ripped open his clothes and applied disinfectant. He had never been more thankful for his own paranoia as he pulled another three vials of burn cream and disinfectant from a pocket in his gakuran.

“How many layers-?” Izuku grumbled as he moved upward. While the main chest plate had come off easily, the fabric and neck plating underneath seemed to be stuck fast.

Upon closer inspection Izuku realized that the metal had melted slightly around the boy’s neck, and Izuku worried that the fabric of his shirt might be embedded into the burns.

“Tomioka-san, give me your hands.” Izuku snapped. He didn't have time to ask for Tomioka’s new name, or even to look at his fellow future-past-now-always-neveragain hashira. 

Two steady hands appeared in Izuku's vision and he grabbed one by the wrist. “Hold.” He instructed, guiding Tomioka’ s hands to the ragged edge of Iida’s armor.

The boy listened, firmly grasping the bottom of the neck plating. Slowly, very slowly, Izuku peeled the fabric up. The scene was almost comforting in its gruesome familiarity, the wet sound of fabric peeling away from mutilated skin, the coppery scent of blood, this time tinged with the sickly sweet smell of burnt nitroglycerin and the acrid stench of burning hair and flesh.

He frowned as the cloth of the shirt brought the top layer of skin with it, but thankfully Iida was out cold.

When the fabric finally lifted off, Izuku let out a breath. Due to whatever fabric the suit was made of, no fibers appeared to be stuck in the burn, which was a relief. 

“See if you can pull away the armor.” Izuku instructed. Then, over his shoulder to Bakugou, he called: “Go find out what is taking so long for help to get here. I only have so many supplies.”

Bakugou seemed to be having a sort of silent freak out, frozen in place. Izuku nodded at Tomioka, who had lifted the plates of armor away from Iida’s neck. “Go.”

Tomioka nodded. Izuku didn't look to watch him go, instead focusing on Iida. His chest, shoulders and neck were a mess of blisters. A few of the pustules had burned further, the nitroglycerin burning with both heat and chemicals.

Patches of crisp, blackened skin framed wet gashes where blood mixed with melted fat in a putrid pink solution that coated Izuku's fingers as he worked.

He didn't have forceps so the insect hashira made do with his hands and the tip of his katana, carefully removing the necrotized skin.

The scant remaining bandages were doused in disinfectant and applied to the worst of the burns, the ones he had already lathered in a mixture of bacitracin and petroleum. Izuku regretted the lack of a numbing agent on hand, but at this point he was working to prevent infection and promote healing, not to combat pain.

Izuku had just finished his last roll of bandages, adding a dry layer on top of the ones soaked with antiseptic, when he heard the approaching footsteps.

He didn't look up from his patient as people entered the room, instead confirming that Iida’s breathing had evened and his heart rate was normal.

He didn't move until he was pushed away by Recovery Girl, who immediately started checking Iida over. 

Izuku watched for one moment, and another before deciding that Iida was safe enough with the school nurse. 

A scan told him that Bakugou was still standing in the same spot as before. Aizawa-sensei was speaking to him in a low, dangerous voice.

Tomioka had taken a spot next to Izuku, looking at him with an expression that Izuku couldn't quite read.

“Shouto.” Tomioka finally spoke, his voice low. Izuku hummed, realizing after a moment what the other was telling him, the adrenaline fading. He remembered the name above his during the quirk assessment, Shouto Todoroki 

“Izuku.” He replied, giving TomiokaShouto a wan smile. The water hashira jolted slightly, eyes widening.

“Your smile is… different.” And if Izuku didn't know better he would say Shouto sounded shy.

 “And you're talking more,” The greenette pointed out fondly, “Everything is different.”

Shouto didn't respond, instead he watched impassively as Aizawa-sensei dragged Bakugou out of the room.

“And where the hell is All Might?!” Aizawa shouted in frustration as he left, “You two, go find the rest of your class!” He snapped, before disappearing around the corner with Bakugou.

Shouto turned his gaze to Izuku, who giggled behind his hand. “Poor Aizawa-sensei, he's so done with teaching.”

As they walked out, heading for the monitor room, Shouto hummed. “He… reminds me of Oyakata-sama.” The boy mumbled.

Izuku gave a small smile, “I agree.” And he did. Aizawa wasn't gentle like the master had been. Oyakata-sama had been quiet and soft, all diseased eyes and trembling hands. But he had also been fiercely protective, called every hashira his child and loved them like it.

Aizawa-sensei reminded him of that side of Oyakata-sama, the side that went against the wishes of the nine most powerful swordsmen and let Nezuko Kamado live. The side that sent daily letters on long missions. The side that rigged his home with explosives to give everyone else a fighting chance.

All too soon they reached the monitor room. They pushed open the door to find complete and utter chaos.

Many people were shouting and Ochaco was pacing like a madwoman. All Might looked on the verge of tears as Yayaorozu spoke to him next to the large wall of televisions.

Hitoshi was the first to notice Izuku and Shouto. His purple eyes glanced over Shouto before landing on Izuku and doing a double take. He nudged Ochaco with an elbow and she squealed.

“Izuku!” She glomped him with a hug, throwing her arms around his neck and holding tight, “Oh my god you're okay! What happened?! We just saw Bakugou let off this huge explosion and the cameras went dark!”

Shouto hovered awkwardly as the other students began to crowd the duo, asking questions anxiously.

Finally, All Might waded over, pushing through the teenagers to reach the two. “Young Midoriya! Young Todoroki!” He declared, “What has happened?”

Izuku pursed his lips in a thin smile, “Ah, Bakugou-kun released a large explosion from the grenades he had on his arms. It caused great harm to Iida-kun. Aizawa-sensei led Bakugou away as Recovery Girl treated Iida.”

All Might's face went white and he looked like he had seen a ghost. “A-ah…”

“He asked where you were.” Shouto chimed in monotonously. All Might swallowed rather audibly and looked around like Shouto might be addressing someone else.

“Young Bakugou?” All Might asked weakly.

Shouto shook his head, “No, Aizawa-sensei.” He paused and then tilted his head, “Why would Bakugou ask for you?”

All Might went paler than Shinazugawa's hair and coughed rather intensely. “Right. Well I should- go… go find Aizawa-san. Um…”

The number one hero fled, leaving Class 1-A in the monitor room looking dumbfounded. Shouto looked around at the shocked students and turned gravely back to Izuku. “I don't think he's fit to teach.” the dual-quirk user told him seriously, his eyes a little concerned.

Izuku just smiled, “Ne, everybody stay calm. Let's go back to class and await further instruction.” He called, placing a hand cupped around his mouth and leaning forward on the tips of his toes for maximum volume.

He led the way, with Shouto, Ochaco and Hitoshi by his side. The rest of the class shuffled along behind them, talking lowly amongst themselves.

Chapter Text

Shouto Todoroki was a quiet boy. He had been a quiet child as well. 

He never had much to say, not until he was five. He was young, occupied with training. Still, he had a begging feeling all day that something was wrong.

Then, that night he had watched with familiar horror as the mountain next to his house was set ablaze.

And Touya-nii was dead, gone. Gone, gone, gone. Lost to the jaws of death that snapped up his body like the demon that snapped up Tsutako-nee.

And suddenly he had a lot more to say. 

Endeavor took it as a sign that his training was working. Giyuu simply trained himself to breathe, to become one with the water.

Shouto had no way of knowing if anyone else was reincarnated the way he was. He had no way to find out either, with his new father beating him up on the daily.

So Shouto had drifted for years, waiting for the moment he was free from Enji so he could look.

The first day of UA was a breath of fresh air. He was ready to live life independently again, ready to train for real and to find a way to acquire a katana.

Then- He had entered the room. Oh, and Shouto hadn't been sure at first, he had watched and hoped.

Hope came in the form of pale butterflies that launched a softball across a field. Kocho.

She (he, whatever) was here. Alive and well, still intimidating people with sweet smiles. 

The rest of the first day of classes was a blur. Shouto went home that night, brushing away Fuyumi-nee when she asked him questions. Shouto went to his room that night and cried.

Ugly, gasping sobs of relief. He wasn't alone.

He had to stop himself from crying again as he looked across at green eyes. The sounds of Class 1-A were muffled behind the door as Izuku and Shouto faced each other in the hallway outside their classroom.

After returning to the room, ShinobuIzuku had kindly but firmly turned away Kanroji and Iguro to speak with Shouto.

“Shouldn’t… Kanroji and Iguro… be here?” Shouto asked awkwardly. Izuku's eyes went wide.

“Pardon?” He asked. Shouto felt a sudden chill down his back.

“Um, your friends. I just thought-” He stammered.

Izuku's brows knitted, “You mean Hitoshi and Ochaco, what-” The green-haired boy’s face shone with surprise. “Iguro and Kanroji..?” He gasped.

Shouto realized he must have misinterpreted something here. “I just thought- nevermind. I guess I was wrong…”

Izuku still looked contemplative, but moved on. “Well… What’s the last thing you remember from before?” He asked pragmatically, “I watched Kanao and Inosuke fight Upper Two, and I sent him to hell. I woke up here when I was five.”

“I died… from the mark. Tanjiro and Nezuko were there…” Shouto said. “I remembered when I was five too…”

Izuku's eyes softened, “So you lived past sunrise. I'm glad.”

Shouto's mouth opened slightly in awe. Izuku was… glad? He had lived? Shouto smiled shyly at the boy and got a raised eyebrow in return.

“Uh, what's your quirk… I have fire and ice, I use it to make water. It's easy to use with water breathing” Shouto explained as best he could. He left out the part that the water was also a rebellion against Enji Todoroki, Izuku didn't need to worry about that yet.

Izuku flashed a smile that Shouto could only describe as predatory, “I'm quirkless.” 

“That sounds nice.” Shouto mused. It had taken a lot of work to incorporate his quirk in a way that he could use Water Breathing. Izuku obviously hadn't had that problem. “Where did the nichirin come from?” Shouto asked next.

“Ah, a descendant of a corps swordsmith as a matter of fact!” Izuku informed him, leaning in on his toes, “Ne, I'll take you to see her if you'd like.”

Shouto nodded thankfully. Izuku's smile widened slightly as silence fell over them.

Shouto was content to stand there, committing every contour of the other hashira's new face to memory.

Izuku's face was soft and round, lacking the angular cheekbones that Shinobu's had. His eyes were soft and round, almost identical to how they once were, only green instead of purple.

Izuku's skin was a shade warmer than Shinobu's porcelain complexion and his form less lithe, though not any taller.

The final difference Shouto noted was in the hair. Izuku sported the same yaki-maki bun as Shinobu, green rather than black, but the strands framing his face told of wild curls tucked away.

His reverie was broken by the sound of agitated footsteps approaching from down the hall. Aizawa was skulking down the hallway, looking absolutely murderous.

“Midoriya. Todoroki. Get inside.” Their teacher snapped, swinging open the door to the classroom and stalking inside. Izuku gave Shouto a placid smile, though amusement was twinkling in his eyes. Shouto had a hunch that Shinobu had been waiting for a long time for Bakugou to get in trouble like this.

The two followed the angry man into the classroom and slid into their seats. Kanroji-who-was-maybe-not-actually-Kanroji immediately grabbed onto Izuku's arm and whispered fervently into his ear.

Shouto had a front row seat to watching Izuku's face soften from his usual sharp facade into something much more genuine. His heart squeezed.

From the back corner of the room, Not-actually-Iguro was watching Shouto with ill-disguised contempt and suspicion.

Shouto's observations were cut short by Aizawa-sensei's voice calling out over the clamor of the classroom.

“Sit down!” The man snapped. It was like a tidal wave crashed over the class. Silence fell immediately and the pink skinned girl, Ashido, who was standing next to the redhead Kirishima, sat so abruptly that she simply plopped onto the floor.

No one moved or spoke as Aizawa continued, “To let everyone know, Iida is going to be alright.” 

Relieved murmurs filled the classroom, but Shouto wasn't among them. He had been certain from the moment that Izuku allowed himself to be shoved away from a patient, that Iida would be perfectly fine. The medic of the Demon Slayer Corps never left a patient unless they were stable or dead.

“His scarring will be minimal, thanks to Midoriya's quick thinking.” Aizawa praised Izuku with the slightest incline of his head, “You can visit him tomorrow if you feel so inclined.”

“What about Bakugou?!” Someone called out from the back. The skin around Aizawa's eyes visibly tightened and if Shouto really listened, he thought he could hear his teacher's teeth grind together.

“Bakugou has not been expelled.” Aizawa announced. His tone made it very clear how he felt about this decision. “Despite… advocates otherwise, Bakugou will remain in UA.” 

Shouto was very certain that the “advocate” was speaking to them all right now. 

“However, he will be moved down to GenEd, and he has been instructed to not interact with any of you in school.” Shouto couldn't resist sneaking a glance at Izuku, and sure enough the boy was grinning like the cat that got the canary- or maybe the butterfly that got the demon.

Aizawa-sensei offered a few platitudes and dismissed everyone for the rest of the day, citing emotional turmoil. The class filed out in twos and threes, soon leaving only Izuku, Shouto and Fake Kanroji and Iguro in the classroom.

Izuku stood and was immediately flanked by his friends, who spoke to him in worried whispers. Shouto stood awkwardly as Izuku placated his companion's, accepting a hug from the girl, Uraraka.

“Ne, Shouto.” Shouto turned to see Izuku smiling at him. “Ochaco and Hitoshi were hoping to hang out today, do you want to join us? We can stop by and commission that katana you wanted too.”

Shouto fumbled. The girl bounced forward. “A katana? Like Izuku's? That's so cool Todoroki-kun! Is Izuku going to train you too?!” 

“Train me?” Shouto asked in confusion, steamrolled by the hurricane of bubbliness. Uraraka beamed and behind her Izuku gave a slight nod. The other boy- Shinsou Aizawa had called him, glared at Shouto. “No… I use my own techniques.” He said haltingly.

“Yes, Shouto simply asked for where I got my katana earlier today and I offered to show him.” Izuku said with fingers pressed together. Uraraka beamed and flounced back to Shinsou, intertwining their hands and pulling him forward.

“Awesome! Let's go!” She declared. Shinsou managed to look both mutinous and in awe simultaneously but didn't argue.

Endeavor wasn't expecting him back until the end of the school day, which gave him a couple hours to burn. And as much as Shinsou's familiar hostility irked Shouto, the promise of holding a nichirin blade again was too strong a temptation.

He nodded and the four students began their walk. Izuku was in the lead as he obviously knew where they were going. Uraraka held Shinsou by the hand the whole time and in return the boy kept close to her, eyes watching Shouto like a snake.

Uraraka bubbled the entire way, telling Shouto about Hitoshi, Izuku and her parents. The girl was bright and loud, everything that Shout was decidedly not. He sent Izuku more than a few pleading looks but the insect hashira merely giggled at his misfortune.

It wasn't long before the four had crossed half of Mustafu, arriving in front of a large warehouse-esque building that had a sign proclaiming that it belonged to Guns and Gear, Hatsume Co.

Izuku walked right in like he owned the place, and the man at the front desk jumped about three feet. 

Shouto looked around in awe at the odd amalgamation of office reception area and high-tech factory workshop that was surrounding them. He could only think of one swordsmith who would be able and willing to work in this place.

As Izuku turned away from the suitably intimidated desk worker, Shouto asked one question. “Haganezuka?”

Izuku's smile was demure, “Haganezuka.”

Chapter Text

“This way then!” Izuku chirped, leading his friends toward the back room. “The lovely man at the front desk paged Neika-san and she said to head up to her office.”

Shouto, Ochaco, and Hitoshi shuffled along obediently behind Izuku. Luckily, the door behind the desk didn't actually lead directly into the workshop.

Instead, the quartet entered a large, empty hallway that echoed with the sounds of the heavy-duty machinery that clanked and grinded in the next room over. Izuku cheerfully headed the group, taking the same path Neika-san had shown him previously.

They climbed a tightly winding staircase, stopping once when Ochaco started swaying from dizziness. Hitoshi steadied her, and Izuku's mind drifted back to what Shouto had said.

Shouldn't Iguro and Kanroji be here?

Izuku shook the thought away, hitching his smile back up. Giyuu was always a bit lost with social norms, surely he had been mistaken.

He shoved the very notion out of his head, coming face to face with the thick door that lead to Neika-san's office.

“Here we are!” Izuku remarked, lifting a hand to knock.

Behind him, Hitoshi grumbled mutinously, something along the lines of: “Finally”. Izuku simply shot him a warning look.

Hitoshi got the message and huffed, simply pressing closer to Ochaco. The poor girl still looked faintly green from the spiral staircase and was clutching onto Hitoshi's arm and a nearby wall.

Hoping to avoid traumatizing poor Shouto, who was watching Ochaco nervously like she might suddenly projectile vomit on him, Izuku gave a few sharp knocks on the door.

The man at the front desk (A wonderful American man named Darryl) had told Izuku that Neika-san was expecting them, so he assumed they wouldn't have to wait long.

He was right, but not in the way he expected. Inside the office, something crashed and then the sound of rapid footsteps approached the door.

Izuku drew back, his hand dropping to the hilt of his katana. In the corner of his eye he saw Shouto instinctively do the same, despite his hip carrying no weapon.

The door practically exploded outward, the girl on the other side already talking. “-have no idea. You're just gonna love this, let me show you!” 

She was short, with long pink dreadlocks and the same bright golden eyes as Neika. Her clothes were dirty, covered in soot, sawdust, and something bright blue and sparkly. Her bare arms were well muscled, which probably accounted for how easily she lunged at Hitoshi, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him into Neika-san's office.

“-going to make you so many cool babies! We have to get started right away. Let me show you all my plans-” she was still chattering away. 

Poor Hitoshi looked back at them with wide, worried eyes; Shouto seemed dumbfounded while Ochaco had her cheeks puffed out and a hand over her mouth, clearly trying not to laugh.

“That's your swordsmith?” Shouto asked Izuku skeptically. Izuku shook his head brightly.

“Nope. I would guess that was her daughter.” He nodded demurely. Shouto nodded, still looking very lost.

“Should we go help Hitoshi?” Ochaco wondered, her face pink with suppressed mirth. From inside the open office, Hitoshi gave a strangled protest.

“Most likely.” Izuku agreed, stepping into the office.

It was a small room, plain cream walls plastered with various blueprints and photos. A large desk dominated the scene, covered in papers and scrap equipment. The girl who had grabbed Hitoshi was standing in the center of the room, some sort of metal backpack in her hands. Hitoshi himself was standing awkwardly amidst the chaos, looking scared for his safety, which was understandable.

The girl was still talking, shoving her mechanical backpack at Hitoshi. Izuku stopped next to the pair, clearing his throat.

The girl took no notice, mumbling about “arm reach and tensile strength”. Izuku coughed pointedly, stepping between her and Hitoshi.

“Pardon me, but we're here to speak with Neika Hatsume.” Izuku leaned forward, smiling coldly. Behind him, Hitoshi slipped away to stand between Shouto and Ochaco, looking relieved.

“Oh!” The girl finally seemed to slow down to a normal speed, “That's my mom!” She declared.

Izuku hummed noncomitally. “Yes, I assumed as much.” He raised one finger, as if scolding a child. “Perhaps you could alert her to our presence?”

The girl nodded, and Izuku was relieved for all of two seconds before she opened her mouth and screamed: “MOM! SOMEONE'S HERE FOR YOU!”

Izuku recoiled, ears ringing. His friends looked similarly uncomfortable, Ochaco actually cupping her hands over her ears and screwing up her face.

Izuku pushed a finger against the girl's lips, smile threatening, “You are rather loud, please keep your volume down.”

The girl visibly drooped, her pupils dilating with an odd whirring sound. “Sorry.” She said, in a much softer and slower tone.

Izuku removed his finger from her lips, giving her a brief, closed-eye smile. “Thank you~.”

Neika-san chose that moment to enter from the door in the far corner of the room, eyebrows raised. Her black curls were piled on her head in a thick bun, adorned with a bandana. Instead of grease stained overalls, she was wearing thick cargo pants and a pink tank top that matched her daughter's hair.

“Izuku, to what do I owe the pleasure?” She asked pleasantly, pushing a few blueprints out of the way to sit on her desk. Izuku beamed, leaning forward.

“Ne, Neika-san. This is my friend Shouto!” Izuku pushed Shouto forward slightly and the boy waved awkwardly.

Neika's sharp golden eyes surveyed the boy, landing on his hair and stance. “You need a katana.” She concluded.

Shoto just nodded mutely. Neika-san sighed like it was an inconvenience, but Izuku could see the glimmer of excitement in her eyes.

Shouto reached into his pocket and held out his entire wallet. “I can pay you.” He said simply.

Neika-san smiled, her eyes a little confused. “That's alright, hon. This one'll be free. If you break it and need another though, that's when it'll cost ya.”

Shouto simply tucked his wallet away, bowing to the woman before walking over to Ochaco, who had started chattering away to Neika-san's daughter. Neika shook her head with a gruff huff of amusement.

The dark-haired woman tugged a spare sheet of paper closer to her and began sketching, speaking to Izuku as she did so. “How has your nichirin blade been treating you, Izuku?”

Izuku instinctively let his hand fall to the hilt of his katana, thumbing the orange and blue wrapping. “It's wonderful, thank you.” He said sincerely. “The vial mechanism is particularly useful, I must say.” 

Neika spared him a brief smile, nodding approvingly. “Good.”

After a couple more minutes, Neika was satisfied with her sketch. She got approval from Shouto and immediately disappeared to begin work on the sword.

“Everyone ready to go?” Izuku asked his companions. They all nodded, Hitoshi especially.

Ochaco and Shouto waved goodbye to Neika's daughter, who was apparently named Mei and was in their year at school as a support course student. Mei waved back, before snapping large goggles down over her eyes and running after her mother.

Hitoshi was already halfway down the stairs, mumbling about crazy girls. Izuku laughed and followed him down.

Darryl the Receptionist jumped rather violently as they left, watching Izuku with wide eyes. Once all four of them had made it out onto the sidewalk, Hitoshi turned and addressed them.

“Let's go to a Café.” He suggested, “I'm craving some coffee.”

Ochaco giggled, “You're always craving coffee!’

Hitoshi grumbled, his cheeks coloring as he turned away. Ochaco cooed and poked at his cheek in a distinctly Izuku-like manner.

Izuku watched them fondly before turning his head to the left and noticing Shouto standing, seemingly out of place.

“Ara, ara, Shouto. Have you ever visited a cat café?” Izuku asked, loudly enough to catch Ochaco and Hitoshi's attention.

“Um. No.” Shouto answered bluntly. Both of Izuku's friends whipped around so fast, he heard their necks crack. 

“Ohmygosh!” Ochaco wailed. “We have to go to a cat café right now!” She tugged at Hitoshi's sleeve.

Hitoshi nodded seriously, already leading the way. For once, he didn't seem wary of Shouto, grabbing the other boy by the arm and dragging him along.

Ochaco bounced beside them, explaining the wonders of cat cafés. Izuku walked in the back, watching how Shouto's eyes widened with a soft sort of awe that made his face light up.

Chapter Text

The next morning, the front of UA was surrounded by a crowd of people.

Hitoshi, Ochaco, and Izuku stared as a poor student from class 1-B tried to push their way into the school only to be swarmed by reporters shoving their microphones in the kid's face.

“That's has to be harassment or something, right?” Hitoshi mumbled as the three scooted forward heads down.

They made it about three quarters of the way to the front gate when one of the reporters cried: “Hey! You're from class 1-A right?! What's it like being taught by All Might?!”

Immediately the three were surrounded. All of the reporters’ voices overlapped as they screamed questions. Hitoshi literally smacked a camera that someone shoved into his face. Ochaco squeaked and hid her face in Hitoshi's shoulder.

Izuku put on his most poisonous smile and spoke loudly. The moment he opened his mouth, the reporters quieted, clearly waiting for his statement on All Might.

“Ne, I suggest you all leave.” The reporters all cried out angrily, but Izuku continued, making sure to make eye contact with every camera that had a blinking red LIVE light. “Unless you would like to be sued by UA and the student's parents for harassment of minors, attempted trespassing, and disruption of the peace.” He chirped, using one finger to push a microphone away.

Most of the reporters backed off, the threat of facing UA's excellent legal team enough to scare them. The few that remained fled when Hitoshi glared at them, his arms wrapped around Ochaco. 

“Leave!” He commanded.

The silence that fell was ringing. Izuku nodded in satisfaction.

“You okay, Mochi-chan?” He asked Ochaco softly. Ochaco slowly pulled away from Hitoshi, her face pouty.

“Yeah. Thanks you two.” She answered, hoisting her bag a little higher. Hitoshi squeezed her briefly before letting go.

“Let's hurry before we're late,” was all the purple-haired boy said.

The three hurried into homeroom, finding that most of their classmates were already seated.

They slid into their seats, Izuku giving Shouto a brief smile before facing the front where Aizawa-sensei had just walked in, looking very put-out.

“Let's get down to business.” He called by way of greeting. By now, Class 1-A had learned to shut up when Aizawa spoke and the room went silent. “Our first task will decide your futures.” He declared dramatically.

The class collectively sweatdropped and a few people in the back whispered nervously. “Is it another quirk assessment?” Someone wondered.

“You need to pick a class representative.” Aizawa declared. “I don't care how you do it, just don't wake me until you're done.” He continued, before zipping himself up in his yellow sleeping bag and flopping to the ground.

Izuku heard the distinctive sound of Ochaco's muffled giggle as their teacher rolled under his desk and out of sight.

As soon as the authority figure was out of sight, the class erupted into noise.

“I would be a great rep!” 

“This position obviously needs a flashy man to fill it!”

“Or woman!”

“I would like to try out, kero”

Izuku's eye twitched. Surprisingly, it was Shouto who calmed the chaos.

“Hey.” His voice was monotone but loud enough to hush the excitable teenagers, “We should vote… or something.”

Ochaco was the first to respond, her customary smile wide. “Great idea Shouto!” She chirped.

“Won't we all just vote for ourselves?” The yellow haired boy, Kaminari, asked. Hitoshi rolled his eyes and pointed a crooked finger at him.

“So we make a rule. You can't vote for yourself.” He deadpanned, “Not that hard.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Makes sense.” 

People murmured and nodded approvingly. Hitoshi just glared at everyone.

Izuku took the initiative to distribute slips of paper and then collect them after everyone had written down their choice. To avoid cheating, he woke Aizawa-sensei up (much to the horror of his classmates), and asked him to count the votes.

“Your representative is Midoriya, your vice is Yayaorozu.” Aizawa announced dispassionately after reading the papers. He then threw them all in the trash and curled back up on the ground. “That's all.”

Izuku was swarmed by his classmates' congratulations, and was only too happy when the bell rang for the next class.

The rest of the morning was average, and Izuku was glad when it was time for lunch. Not quite as glad as Ochaco though, who took advantage of UA's free food and took two whole trays for herself.

“It’s always so crowded in here.” She bemoaned as their little group of four struggled through the other students toward an empty table.

“It's because all the courses eat together.” Hitoshi explained, flopping down into a seat. Ochaco slid in next to him and Izuku chose a seat across from them.

Shouto hesitated for a brief moment before sitting down next to Izuku. 

Their lunch was quiet. Mostly because Ochaco, who was the talker in the group, was preoccupied with inhaling her lunch.

“Ish so good!” She said through a mouthful of rice. Hitoshi watched her fondly, eyes so soft that Shouto and Izuku exchanged awkward looks. Shouto slurped a noodle loudly. 

Izuku muffled his laugh by stuffing a bite of tsukudani into his mouth. It was something his mother had made for him, and despite his reservations about Inko Midoriya, she was one hell of a cook.

The ginger was perfectly blended into the taste of the dish, and Izuku couldn’t help the smile that crept up his face. Unfortunately, their comfortable lunch was shattered by the sudden explosion of sound from the PA system’s speakers.

“Warning! Level Three Security Breach. All students please evacuate the building!” The alarm crackled, followed by a blaring siren. The entire cafeteria went ballistic, people shouting and screaming, all running for the exits. The third years were shoving first years out of the way, taking advantage of their size to get ahead. 

“What the hell is going on?” Hitoshi snapped, standing up amidst the chaos. His tall, lanky form allowed him a vantage point over their heads. 

“A level three breach means someone broke in!” A nearby third year screeched. “That’s never happened before!” He then ran off into the throng of people, pushing through the younger students to get away. Hitoshi’s expression curled into one of disgust.

“These people call themselves heroes?” He asked disdainfully. Izuku’s eyes narrowed and Shouto stood up to join Hitoshi. 

“No point in lecturing them now. We should get ourselves to safety.” He intoned. Izuku nodded, standing up and taking Ochaco’s hand. 

The quartet moved through the ocean of panicking teens, pushing toward the exit without shoving people out of the way. Thankfully, everyone was moving in generally the same direction and the tide of movement carried them out into the main hall. The air was still filled with screams and shouts, but Izuku was able to hear Ochaco’s audible gasp as they passed a nearby window.

“What’s wrong, Mochi-chan?” Izuku asked, looking back at her. Rather than trying to shout over the (entirely unnecessary) wailing from a nearby blonde boy, Ochaco just pointed out the window.

Izuku’s heart froze as he turned his head, expecting to see carnage, like the aftermath of a demon attack. Perhaps heroes fighting for their lives against whatever villains managed to surpass UA’s infamous security system. Instead, his eyes fell on a crowd of reporters, cameras flashing and microphones waving. Izuku’s worry turned into rage.

He patted Ochaco on the arm and let go of her hand. With a swift leap, he pushed off of the wall and dashed across the shoulders of the people in the crowd. He landed at the end of the hallway, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Ne, everybody! There is no danger, the media has simply infiltrated the grounds. There is no need for such behavior!” He called, very thankful that his voice had the strange ability to carry far, no matter the volume.

The effect was immediate, and even as the chaos died down, someone pointed out the window: “the police are here!”. That solidified it, and everyone dispersed quickly, mumbling tiredly.

Izuku weaved his way back through the thinning crowd to where his friends were standing. Ochaco had her arms crossed and was pouting, Hitoshi looked unimpressed and Shouto impassive. “I forget how fast you are, Izuku.” Ochaco complained, giving him a brief side hug. Izuku returned the gesture of affection, booping his friend on the nose.

“It’s all in the breathing,” He reminded lightly, raising a finger into the air. Ochaco stuck out her tongue in a mock-pout. Her now familiar braid was hanging over her shoulder and she tugged on it, her expression clouding as she looked out the window again. 

“Do you really think it was just the media?” Ochaco asked uncertainly. Hitoshi shook his head. 

“That’s what I was thinking…” He mused, eyes dark. “No way some lousy press vultures got past the security system.” Izuku pressed his fingers together, eyes closed in a smile.

“Perhaps we ought to tell Principal Nedzu, no?” He suggested. Shouto nodded in agreement and started walking away, presumably toward the principal’s office. Izuku snorted as Ochaco looked confused and Hitoshi offended.

“Shoutoooo! You’re supposed to wait for everyone else before you start walking!” Ochaco wailed, running off after him. Hitoshi shook his head and fell in step beside Izuku.

Izuku got the impression that Nedzu knew a lot more than he let on.

The rat?mouse?man? thanked the four for their insight, but assured them that the school was being protected and the incident being investigated to UA’s full capabilities.

He sent them all back to class, much to Ochaco’s chagrin. Class was rather tense, with everyone murmuring about the day’s events rather than paying attention. The only good thing that came from that afternoon was the return of Iida to class.

He came in, wearing a butterfly bandage on his forehead and his arm in a sling. Still, he approached Izuku’s desk after English class and bowed a full ninety degrees.

“Midoriya.” He said solemnly, “I must thank you. Recovery Girl told me that you worked very hard to treat me after the incident.”

“It’s no problem, Iida-san.” Izuku chirped, heart softening slightly. If there was one thing he missed most about being a demon slayer, it was being a doctor. He truly did love caring for people, helping them get back to their full strength.

“I also want to apologize for my rude behavior during our previous encounters!” Iida continued formally, still in a completely horizontal bow. Izuku sighed, keeping his smile up despite the edge of annoyance he felt.

“You’re forgiven, Iida.” Izuku repeated. Iida straightened up and bowed twice more in rapid succession before backing away. Shouto, who sat just diagonally from Izuku leaned in, watching Iida go with a concerned look.

“He’s rather strange.” Shouto whispered. It wasn’t a question, just an observation that the water hashira felt important to share. Izuku smiled at his fellow pillar.

“Yes, I suppose he is.” He agreed. Shouto nodded solemnly, and it was punctuated by the defeated sound of Hitoshi’s forehead hitting his desk.

Chapter Text

Neika-san worked fast. The email confirming that Shouto's sword was ready to be picked up came only a few days later, on Tuesday. 

Unfortunately, Shouto had already gone home directly from school. Izuku stopped by Guns and Gear and picked up the katana, ready to bring it to school the next day.

Izuku had a pleasant dinner with his mother, a simple miso soup and some rice. He went to bed that evening, but found it hard to sleep.

Uneasiness crept through his veins and anxiety pricked at his bones. Izuku almost got out of bed and called Tomioka, but decided against it. He eventually fell asleep by focusing completely on his Total Concentration Breathing: Constant.

The next day dawned warm and sunny, a contrast to the weight Izuku felt in the air. For the first time since he had begun at UA, he decided to take the train to school. It was slower than running by a significant margin, but he was able to sit quietly and take deep breaths to calm himself.

When he entered the classroom, it was to find the usual chaos. Iida was speaking with Yayaorozu, while Ashido and Jirou were arguing about something loudly. Izuku scanned the room for his friends, finding them all huddled close in the back of the room.

He lightly walked over, tilting his head. Hitoshi had a hand on Ochaco's shoulder, and Ochaco looked troubled, biting her lip. Shouto's hand flexed restlessly at his side, grabbing for a weapon that wasn't there yet.

Izuku silently handed Shouto the long, thin box that held his nichirin blade. Shouto took it, awe in his eyes. Hitoshi and Ochaco didn't notice, instead both sets of eyes were focused on Izuku.

“You feel it too, huh?” Ochaco asked, reaching out to give Izuku's hand a brief squeeze. Izuku just nodded.

“Something about today is… wrong.” Hitoshi said ominously. Shouto turned back into the group, his scabbard hanging proudly from his belt, but before they could continue, Aizawa called for class to begin.

“Today's training will be a little different.” Aizawa began unceremoniously. For once, his sleeping bag was nowhere in sight. “You'll have three instructors. Me, All Might, and another faculty member will be keeping tabs on you.” The underground hero continued.

As expected, whispers broke out at the words, people speculating who the third teacher would be. Iida raised his hand sharply.

“Sir! What type of training will this be?” Iida asked. Aizawa sighed.

“Today will be rescue training. Natural disasters, fires, that sort of thing.” He informed them. “What you wear is up to you. Gym uniforms or your hero costumes, just don't let your outfit limit your movement. Go.” 

There was no further dismissal, so the class spread out, heading for the locker rooms. Changing was a quick affair, and while everyone else shattered excitedly around them, Izuku and his two friends remained quiet.

The class reconvened in the front of the school, in front of a bus that was waiting to take them to UA's natural disasters training facility, the USJ (“Universal Studios Japan?!” “No you idiot, the Unforeseen Simulation Joint.”).

Izuku was pleased to see that some of his classmates had wisely forgone their hero costumes. Hagakure, the invisible girl, was wearing her gym uniform and Iida, whose costume was undoubtedly still being fixed, was in his.

Izuku wore his hero costume, and was pleasantly surprised that Shouto had added a haori to his. It was still his old, split styled one but with slightly different colors. The geometric pattern that had been a soft green and yellow now carried dark green and blue.

The result was a lovely mix, with the deep red that matched his new hair color, and the blue of his old eyes. The green actually reminded Izuku of Tanjiro Kamado's haori, and he whispered this to Shouto as they boarded the bus.

Shouto flushed slightly. “Yes… I wanted to remember him.” He tugged the red side of his haori around himself a bit tighter, “And my sister,”

Izuku smiled at Shouto, but it was a sad thing. The wound that Kanae-nee's death had left wasn't nearly as raw as it had been when he was Shinobu. It wasn't festering, open to the harsh world anymore. But the scar was, and probably always would be, bitter and painful.

“Midoriya, kero.” His thoughts were shattered by the voice of the frog-like girl, Asui.

“Hmm?” He asked sweetly, turning to look at her. She was sitting across the open aisle of the bus.

“I consider myself a very blunt person.” Asui stated, looking at him. Izuku didn't respond, merely watched her with a sweet face. “Bakugou mentioned it a few times before he left, and I have to ask, are you really quirkless?”

Izuku's smile turned frigid, staring intensely at the girl. “Oh my! Does it matter if I am?” He asked smoothly. Shouto obviously recognized the threat in his voice, because he laid a hand on his forearm.

Hitoshi and Ochaco also looked up, scenting the danger after having known Izuku for a while. Asui didn't even seem sure aback by the four hostile glares fixed on her, though she did ribbit in a nervous sort of way.

“Nah man!” The bubbly redhead, Kirishima interrupted the silent staring contest. “That's super manly, you must have worked really hard!”

The bus broke out into chatters of agreement, everyone praising Izuku's dedication. Izuku sat back, anger fading slightly. He shouldn't have assumed these children would be as prejudiced as the other ones he had met.

Shouto seemed to realize he was still touching Izuku’s arm when the bus rumbled to a stop. The other boy snatched his hand away, mumbling a stilted apology. Izuku waved it away with a giggle, waiting for his turn to disembark the bus.

Izuku was glad his friends had been sitting together on the bus, but he was even more glad that once they stepped off of it, they remained pressed together. The foreboding feeling was heavier here, blanketing Izuku's shoulders like shadows.

When they entered the training facility, Izuku realized he had been moments away from drawing his katana as he had to catch the door as it almost closed in his face. He forced himself to calm down, but stay alert. As a hashira, his instincts had saved his life many times. 

Finally, the last of the class filed into the USJ building, and the door swung shut. To UA’s credit, the building was amazing. It really did look almost like an amusement park, with a large glass dome ceiling and a central plaza with a fountain that led off toward many different zones.

Nearby was a huge lake, with a boat floating in the center. A snowy mountain dominated the background and there was a building that looked like it was actively crumbling away. There were other zones as well that Izuku couldn't see over the heads of his excited classmates.

“Hello students!” A feminine voice called from the front of the crowd. A hush fell over the hero students as the speech continued. “It's wonderful to meet you, I am the Rescue Hero: Thirteen!”

It was a testament to the mood of their little group that Ochaco only perked up slightly at the name. She was hoping to be a rescue hero, and was as much of a Thirteen fan as Hitoshi was an Eraserhead fan. The rest of the class was whispering excitedly, so most missed the exchange between the two teachers.

Aizawa-sensei looked around at Thirteen, raising his eyebrows expectantly. In return, Thirteen shook their head, holding up three fingers. Aizawa groaned and rolled his eyes.

Izuku wondered if they little nonverbal conversation had anything to do with why All Might wasn't present, despite Aizawa saying he would be. A quick glance to his right showed him that Shouto had noticed it too, based on his furrowed brows.

“Before we begin our rescue training, I would like to say something. Or maybe two things. Three, four?” Thirteen continued aloud, giving a shrug. “Listen carefully.”

“I'm sure you're aware that I have a powerful quirk.” Thirteen said gravely. The students couldn't see their face because of the astronaut helmet they wore, but Izuku could imagine their serious expression. “It's called Black Hole. I can use it to suck up anything and turn it into dust.”

Yaoyorozu spoke up, "You've used it to save lots of people!” She added reverently. Thirteen raised a finger to pause the girl.

“That's true, but my quirk could also very easily be used to kill.” They reminded everyone darkly. Izuku once again felt too old for his body as he heard the gasps at these words. These children were so innocent, naive to the cruelty of life.

“Some of you also have powers that can be dangerous. In our superhuman society, we often overlook how unsafe quirks can actually be. Please don't forget that if you lose focus or make the wrong move, your powers can be deadly. Even if you're trying to do something virtuous like rescue someone.

“Thanks to Aizawa's fitness tests, you have a solid idea of your quirk's potential. And because of All Might's combat training, you likely experienced how dangerous your powers can be when used against other people. Carry those lessons over to this class. 

“Today, you're going to learn how to use your quirks to save people's lives. You won't be using your powers to attack enemies or each other, only to help. After all, that's what being a hero is all about. Ensuring the safety of others.”

Thirteen's words were met with a loud round of applause, which Izuku joined in on. He appreciated their warnings. They were the first teacher he had encountered so far that seemed to hold an acute awareness that these bumbling children were just that: children.

They were weak, untrained, and entirely too idealistic. They… Izuku's thoughts ground to a halt. He hadn't noticed it before, assuming it was just the day’s uneasiness. But it wasn’t.

The air down in the main plaza of the USJ rippled, and even as the others’ cheers and applause for Thirteen died down, Izuku could feel the building aura. 

Like a drain being pulled, the air above the center fountain sucked inward, purple smoke circling in the center. With it came an unmistakable feeling.

The presence of a demon wasn't something Izuku had ever been able to put into words. As far as he knew, the other hashira hadn't been able to either.

Demons were foul, the very air around them hung with the stench of rotten flesh and snuffed out souls. They tugged on your consciousness like a magnet, their desire to eat and kill and destroy a palpable texture in the air.

Izuku and Shouto both had their swords drawn before anyone even noticed the intruders. Something electrical sparked behind them and the grinding of metal plates slithering over the glass dome of the ceiling was horrible only because of what it meant.

Everyone looked around in confusion as the sun was slowly extinguished from the Unforeseen Simulation Joint. It wasn't dark, not by a long shot, but Izuku felt that old fear creep up his throat.

“The sun…” Hitoshi whispered, sounding hoarse. His face was screwed up like he was in pain and Ochaco was also eyeing the ceiling with obvious anxiety.

“Uh… is that part of the training?” Kirishima asked, pointing into the plaza. Finally, the rest of the class caught up, and fear rippled over the students.

Thirteen immediately moved, trying to herd them toward the doors, but it was too late. The small whirlpool of purple smoke exploded outward, covering the entire plaza with mist. The horrible, choking, damning feeling increased tenfold.

The aura of a demon is horrible, especially to those that have never felt it. Izuku could see the way that everyone froze, the fear of encountering something that wants to consume you so entirely stopping their blood and locking their bones.

The doors behind them snapped shut, an automated lock clicking. “I thought this was rescue training?” A boy with a rocky head called timidly. More than a few people screamed as the smoke began to retreat, leaving a crowd of people in its wake.

Aizawa whipped around, already gripping his capture weapon. “Those are real villains!” He called out firmly. “Stick together and stay back!”

A look from Shouto told Izuku that they wouldn't be doing that. And there would be time later for Shinobu to lament the loss of peace, the death of the idea that life might be easier this time.

Right now, these people needed a Demon Slayer. And luckily for them, they had a few of the best

Chapter Text

“Yayaorozu, create something, blow a hole in the roof.” Shouto commanded, not taking his eyes off of the army of villains. "Get the sunlight back in here now."

Izuku didn't look away either, his mind working furiously. Now that the mist had retreated, coalescing into a smokey figure in the back of the group, the aura of demondemondangerwrongbad had lessened significantly.

Most of these people felt bloodthirsty, yes, but only three had the feel of a true demon. The misty one, purple with glowing yellow eyes was a demon for sure. The other two were also hanging back, one was large with deep blue skin and the other hidden out of sight, somewhere behind the massive one.

The only thing that made Izuku hesitate was the aura. If the demons of the Taisho period felt of death and rotting flesh, these stank of freshly spilled blood. They were demons no doubt, but different, fresher maybe.

“Midoriya, Todoroki… what?” Someone behind them asked uncertainly, and in that moment everything snapped.

Aizawa-sensei jumped into the crowd of villains, already smoothly dispatching what appeared to be a mass of lowlife thugs.

The other members of Class 1-A ran towards the doors, Thirteen in the lead. In the blink of an eye, the misty demon appeared in their way, blocking the students’ escape.

Izuku felt the familiar hate rise in his veins, and he smiled, talented fingers slotting a vial of wisteria poison into his katana sheathe. “Ne, Shouto. I'll handle the mist one, can you go for the ones in the plaza?” He asked lightly, already moving into a fighting stance.

Tomioka's only response was a curt nod and a brief, “Be safe.” Then, there was a flash of multi-colored haori, and Shouto was gone.

Izuku turned his poisonous smile toward the smokey form towering over the terrified teenagers, feet already moving.

“-are the League of Villains.” The demon was monologuing. 

Izuku's hand fell to the hilt of his blade. If this demon was coherent enough to speak, to have a goal and self-restraint to not immediately go for the kill, he might be strong enough to cause him problems.

“I know it's impolite, but we decided to invite ourselves into this safe place to say hello. And besides, isn't this a fitting place for All Might, the Symbol of Peace, to take his last breath? I believe he-” Izuku was kind enough to let the demon finish his last sentence before landing lightly in front of Thirteen, unsheating his stinger. 

“Well hello there, Sir!” He chirped. The mask slid on as easy as breathing, even as he heard Ochaco's choked sound from somewhere behind him.

The demon paused, seemingly puzzled. Izuku continued, leaning in with a smile. “I'm afraid I can't allow you to continue!”

The demon's eyes narrowed, assessing Izuku. “And I'm afraid I cannot allow you to stop me.” The demon replied. Izuku’s smile widened.

“Oh dear! It seems we are at an impasse.” He announced, twirling his needle-like katana with ease. He could see the moment that the demon registered the scent of wisteria.

Its eyes widened and its entire form wavered. Izuku was pretty sure that the demon did not know why the sweet scent of flowers unnerved it so much, but it looked at him with renewed hatred and unease all the same.

“Indeed.” The demon inclined its head, and Izuku could at least appreciate that this one was polite.

“Midoriya, step back.” Thirteen hissed, their voice low and commanding. Izuku gave the hero a gentle smile.

“Protect the students, Thirteen-san.” He instructed, “This one is for me.”

The demon raised its arms, “I must get rid of you now.” It said solemnly, and many of his classmates screamed. “Blood Demon Art: Warp Gate, Scatter.” 

Izuku could sense the way the demon's presence intensified at his feet, spreading out rapidly. He was fast enough and aware enough to leap straight into the air, avoiding the swirling purple void that opened beneath him. Most of his classmates weren't so lucky. Their shouts and screams of surprise were cut off rapidly as they fell into the unknown. Only Iida, Shoji, Sero and Sato remained.

Thirteen got it worse. They evidently tried to activate their quirk, and the demon's warp gate ended up redirecting it, dissolving their entire left leg and part of their lower body before they too fell out of sight.

Izuku’s eyes sharpened. How dare this demon hurt children. How dare it hurt his friends!

“How rude!” He called, flipping through the air and landing on solid ground behind the demon. It whirled around to face him. “I'm afraid you have many sins to atone for!” He redipped his nichirin into his sheathe, the metal coming back out dripping with purple venom.

“I appreciate your concern,” the demon nodded, “But I must kill you.” 

Izuku's smile widened, “Oh dear, I'd rather you not.”

The fight was on.

“Blood Demon Art: Warp Gate, Sever”

The aura of the demon was enough for Izuku to detect and avoid each of the portals that opened in his path. “Insect Breathing, Dance of the Centipede: Hundred-Legged Zigzag”

He leapt up, his back and forth steps light. He recalled shattering the wooden bridge of Uppermoon Two's odd hideaway the last time he had performed this move. Thankfully, the USJ had a much stronger floor.

With a twist, he struck. His blade hit true, sinking into a chink between the demon's weird neck armor. Izuku withdrew and sheathed his blade in one fluid motion, landing with his arms extended behind the demon.

“A valiant effort,” The demon said, turning to keep him in its sight. “But you have underestimated me. This strike will not kill me.”

Izuku looked back at it over his shoulder. “Oh, Mister, you mustn't think you're safe just because you still have your head! Do you feel it yet?” His voice dripped with false saccharine kindness. He had no love for these creatures, no sympathy. 

No mercy.

-

The plaza was in chaos. Shouto was confident that Izuku could handle the mist demon, but he was rapidly losing confidence that he could even make it to the other two demons.

The path to them was blocked by at least fifty normal, human villains. Shouto found it much harder to hold back, trying to knock them out without killing them.

It was also entirely unhelpful that about every five seconds, Aizawa would pause in his fight to insist that Shouto turn around and run away.

“Water Breathing, First Form: Water Surface Slash!” He slammed the hilt of his katana into the head of a villain that nearly got the drop on his teacher, who had been too focused on Shouto.

“Stop worrying about me before you get yourself killed.” Shouto told Aizawa, dashing over to another approaching villain and knocking them out. “I can't keep saving you.”

“Todoroki, what in God's-?” Aizawa sounded angry and confused. Shouto ignored him, kicking another villain away.

“Fight the villains. I'll handle the demons.” He instructed, taking off in a run. Aizawa called something else but it was cut off by another villain attacking him.

Shouto ignored it, trusting that the hero could handle a simple foe like these. He sheathed his sword as he ran, keeping his hand on it.

The demonic presences were behind the central fountain, hanging back and letting others do the dirty work for them. Shouto skidded to a halt, facing three figures.

One, surprisingly, was human. He looked rather demonic, with extra hands all over his body, but his bloodlust was weak and his aura even more so.

The first demon towered over him. It had thick, dark blue skin and black patterns adorning it that looked like lichtenberg scars. It had white hair slicked back from a heavy forehead and a beak-like face. It was built like a bodybuilder, shirtless with muscles and veins everywhere, thick legs that poked out of size XXXXL khaki shorts.

Shouto could tell at once that this demon wasn’t very powerful.

Its eyes were black, but they were also dull and lifeless. It stood hunched over, beak dripping drool, and grunting. Whatever ranking system these demons had, this one wasn't advanced enough for higher level cognition.

The second demon was the one that unnerved him. It was standing as still as a statue behind the other two. All he could see of it were its eyes. They were shiny, pearlescent white, like it was blind but Shouto got the impression that it was watching him.

“What?!” The man with all the hands exclaimed, scratching aggressively at himself. “How did you get past my NPCs! Cheater!”

Shouto blinked, “Um. Sorry?” He tried, “But I have to slay these demons.”

“Fuck you!” Spat the man, stomping his foot like a child. Shouto sighed, clearly this villain was psychotic. “Kill him!” He shrieked, presumably to the demons.

“Okay.” Shouto replied, already moving. Shouto dashed forward and drew his sword, breathing in. “Water Breathing, Third Form: Flowing Dance.”

As Shouto breathed, he could feel his quirk activate. It used to trip him up, that his swordsmanship set his quirk off. Now though, he just let the power gather in his feet and fingertips, mixing fire and ice until it was real water flowing off of his blade, not the illusion it used to be.

The demon roared, and at the man's cry lumbered forward. Each of its steps cracked the concrete beneath its massive bare feet and Shouto realized that as stupid as this demon might be, it was also stupidly strong.

A hit from this demon could snap his ribs or cave-in his skull. The demon raised its hand, claws swiping. He had to either dodge, or-

“Water Breathing, Sixth Form: Whirlpool!”

SHING!

The demon spun in one direction, his hand spun the other. The bloody water from Shouto's attack splattered across all three of his opponents. The beaked demon shrieked in pain, even as the bleeding stump of his wrist began to scab over. It raised both its arms up, ready to attack.

Shouto didn’t give the demon time to regenerate any more. He lunged forward, sword swinging. He didn't even bother with a breathing technique this time, just two swift slashes.

The beaked demon groaned, looking stupidly at its now armless torso. Its arms squirmed and flopped on the ground on either side of it. The man screamed in frustration.

“Cheater! Cheater!” He complained as he tugged at his own hair. Shouto skidded to a stop behind the now armless demon, breathing steady.

When Shouto looked up, he realized he had landed right in front of the other demon. Up close, he could finally see the thing clearly.

It was female, with a silken kimono like he might have seen in the Taisho period. It had pale purple skin that immediately reminded Shouto of how Izuku’s eyes used to look, and that made him frown. That color shouldn't be anywhere near a demon, let alone part of one.

It had multicolored hair, like a rainbow solidified into iridescent strands. Its wrists and ankles were decorated by golden chains and charms that clinked as it turned to look at him.

Shouto hefted his katana.

“Blood Demon Art: Shifting Gravity”

Well fuck.

-

Hitoshi could hear Ochaco screaming as the darkness around him dissolved into rushing air. 

For once though, he wasn’t focused on her. He was drowning in fear and confusion.

Hitoshi had felt off all day. He had woken to a pit in his stomach and an even worse morning mood than usual. He had gotten to school to find Ochaco, Shouto, and Izuku were much in the same state: uneasy, anxious, angry.

Hitoshi had allowed himself to hope that the rescue training today would be fun, a hope that had curled up and died in the pit of his stomach at the sight of metal scrapescrapescraping over the glass ceiling.

“The sun…” was all he had managed to say. There was no more sunlight in the USJ, and they were all as good as dead. He was not sure why.

His classmates had been confused, anxious. Nothing compared to the bone deep terror and sinking sense of resignation that Hitoshi felt. A feeling that had only increased as IzukuKocho had taken charge.

Part of Hitoshi had wanted to use his quirk, to command that his friend come back into the crowd of students and let Thirteen deal with the demon villain. But he hadn't.

“Blood Demon Art: Warp Gate, Scatter.”

Then Hitoshi fell.

What?

Blood…

…Demon-

…Art?

Chapter Text

Ochaco barely had time to yelp before she was crashing down, water enveloping her. She struggled to kick upward, a white-out of bubbles clouding her vision.

The moment her head broke the surface, she was pulled sideways. She squealed as something long and pink tugged her out of the water and up onto the deck of a ship.

“Oh, Tsu. Thank goodness!” She cried, her hands pressed to her chest in an effort to calm down. Tsuyu Asui just nodded at her.

“No problem Uraraka-chan, kero.” The frog-girl replied, her voice nervous. Ochaco looked at her new surroundings, eyes wide.

The two were in the middle of a large lake, on a ship that seemed to be getting dangerously close to the water level. The shipwreck zone, she realized.

“Woah! That de- villain teleported us!” She realized, seeing the main entrance far above them. Tsu nodded, her finger at the corner of her mouth.

“Yes. Thirteen is here too.” She pointed out. Ochaco looked down and nearly screamed in worry.

At their feet, the rescue hero was huddled on the deck of the boat. Their left leg and hip were gone, their costume looked like it had been sucked into a shredder or- a black hole.

“Oh no.” Ochaco moaned, dropping to her knees. The wound was bleeding steadily, a pool of red already surrounding the hero. Thirteen was breathing, but it was shallow and every few seconds their breathing hitched worryingly.

Ochaco reached out, doing her best to press against the wound. What would ShinobuIzuku do? Apply pressure, right? Get bandages?

“We need to get back to the exit.” Ochaco told Tsu, and she was surprised that her voice wasn’t shaking. She sounded calm, like she knew what she was doing despite being terrified.

You do know what you're doing, don't you M̶̢̫̦̖͕͊͐̔́̀̔i̶̡̙͍̠̤̐̅͛t̴̛͔͓̏͜s̷̢̮͉͕̟̀̽ú̷̦̻̱̹̃̅̓r̷͖̮̘̋̎̌̋͋i̷͆ͅ?

Tsu leaned over the edge of the boat's railing, her face troubled. “There's villains all in the water.” She reported, “I think they're waiting for the boat to sink.”

Ochaco looked up briefly, judging the distance across to the shore. “You're like, a frog right? Could you jump across to the plaza?” She asked. Tsuyu shook her head.

“By myself I could, but not with you and Thirteen-sensei.” She sounded dejected. Ochaco pursed her lips before perking up.

“What if I made you and Thirteen-san weightless?” Ochaco asked. “Could you just jump me across?” 

Tsu thought about it, looking over the distance. “Yes, I think so.” 

Ochaco nodded firmly. She pressed her fingers to the front of Thirteen's smooth space suit and the hero lit up pink. She lifted them easily and crossed to the edge of the boat where Tsuyu was standing.

True to what she had told Ochaco, there were at least fifteen different villains in the waters below them, laughing and calling up stupid taunts. 

“Ignore them.” Ochaco told Tsu, poking the other girl, who was looking slightly green and not just in the hair. She reached out the free hand that wasn't holding the still bleeding Thirteen and activated her quirk on Tsu as well.

The other teenager took a deep breath and braced her legs. Ochaco could see her eyeing the villains in the water nervously. One of them had a shark mutation and he gnashed his teeth viciously when he caught the girls looking. Asui flinched, her breathing hitching.

Ochaco gripped Tsu's shoulder with her hand. “Tsuyu. You can do this.” You can do anything you put your mind to M̶̢̫̦̖͕͊͐̔́̀̔i̶̡̙͍̠̤̐̅͛t̴̛͔͓̏͜s̷̢̮͉͕̟̀̽ú̷̦̻̱̹̃̅̓r̷͖̮̘̋̎̌̋͋i̷͆ͅ! She assured her, voice firm. Tsu swallowed before giving her a tense nod.

Ochaco let go of her shoulder, shifting Thirteen more securely into her arms. Tsu hopped onto the edge of the boat's railing, her legs bunched up. Ochaco braced herself, ready to be grabbed.

Sure enough, when Tsu leapt, soaring over the villain-infested lake with the ease of a person experiencing zero-gravity, her tongue shot out, wrapping around Ochaco's waist and dragging her along.

They were almost to the shore when Ochaco felt it. The nausea of quirk overuse. No she pleaded mentally to a god she didn't believe in, No please, not now!

She could feel her grip on her quirk slipping and they dropped in altitude, skimming closer and closer to the deadly, villain infested water. Ochaco squeezed her eyes shut in desperation.

And maybe she needed to reevaluate her beliefs, because like her pleading was answered, one of Izuku's offhanded comments rose to the forefront of her mind: ‘Total Concentration Breathing might improve your quirk, I'm not sure, I've never had one.’

Ochaco braced herself, and breathed. She had never been good at the breathing techniques that Izuku taught her and Hitoshi. It had made her lungs ache and her head woozy. Still, she felt a balloon of hope rise in her chest as her body physically rose.

Love Breathing, First Form: Shivers of First Love!

Tsuyu landed in a frog-like crouch at the edge of the water, her long tongue pulling Ochaco and Thirteen to the safety of land just a moment later. Ochaco almost sobbed in relief, gasping for air.

No- focus Ochaco! You need to keep them safe. She grabbed Tsu's hand, keeping an eye on the plaza.

Aizawa-sensei was fighting what seemed like every single villain in the place. Despite the horrible odds, their teacher seemed to be doing just fine. Ochaco was tempted to help, to jump into the fray. You're a hero student hashira aren't you? It's your duty!

She shook her head, mindful of the way her braid nearly whipped Tsuyu across the cheek. She had to get Tsu and Thirteen-sensei to safety. That was her priority. “C'mon.” She whispered urgently, tugging Tsu along the edge of the water and toward the stairs up to the exit. “Let’s go.”

Tsu followed without protest, which made Ochaco let out a silent sigh of relief. She wasn't sure if she would have been able to argue with her classmate if the other had insisted that they stay.

The benefit of there being so many villains was that they got in each other's way. Ochaco spotted at least three different thugs that noticed her and Tsu slipping along the outskirts of the battle. Fortunately, other villains that were more focused on Aizawa-sensei got in the way, shoving their allies and causing too much of a ruckus for any of them to actually attack the girls.

When she reached the edge of the stairs, Ochaco began to run. She only realized that she hadn’t released her quirk when Tsu stumbled, her lack of gravity making it hard to move up the stairs.

“Eek! Sorry!” Ochaco chirped, shifting Thirteen to the side to press her hands together. “Release!” She muttered. 

“It's okay, kero.” Tsu reassured her, but the other teen still sagged in relief as her feet returned solidly to the ground. Ochaco readjusted her grip on Thirteen's slippery suit, pushing up the last few steps.

A few of their class remained, including Izuku- and the misty villain. As she reached her peers, Ochaco could see Izuku sheathe his katana and she relaxed.

You know Shinobu would never sheathe her sword unless the threat was gone, don't you?

Ochaco nodded, coming up to her classmates. She pushed Tsu toward Sero and handed Thirteen to a confused Sato. “Here, watch them.” She commanded. The two boys looked bewildered but complied nevertheless, Sero wrapping an arm around a clearly unnerved Tsuyu and Sato taking Thirteen easily into his arms.

As such, it was only Shoji and Iida who saw what happened next. The figure made of mist, which had been speaking in its low, unnerving voice, stiffened.

Ochaco caught the scent of flowers, and somehow knew what was going to happen before it did. The mist began to dissipate, the man's entire form shaking.

Izuku stepped back, landing next to Ochaco with a flap of his haori. In the same moment, the villain collapsed. It began to dissolve into the air, red embers flaking off and floating away. Behind her, Ochaco could hear Iida choke and Shoji make a noise of distress and something in the back of her mind shouted that she should be terrified.

Izuku had just killed someone- villain or not. That was a living, breathing person. But Ochaco's more logical mind was assuaged, it was slain, her job was done.

“Ne, ne, Iida-san.” Izuku chirped, turning around with one finger raised. “Please go alert the heroes.” He instructed.

Iida floundered, his eyes haunted. “You- you just…”

Izuku didn't seem disturbed, just faintly amused by the other's blithering. Ochaco, however, rapidly got frustrated. She stamped her foot, reaching out to shove Iida slightly.

“Hey! We're kinda still surrounded- go, run- tell the teachers! You're the fastest!” She said sternly. That seemed to kick Iida into gear, and he took off out the door, engines revving. Ochaco pouted after him, crossing her arms. “Some people.”

Beside her, Izuku smiled but it was an odd thing. “Shouto was right, wasn't he?” Izuku asked lightly. Ochaco tilted her head.

“Eh?” The two sides were warring in her mind, she was trying desperately to focus on Izuku and ignore the calls. Shinobu! Kocho, it's me! Its M̶̢̫̦̖͕͊͐̔́̀̔i̶̡̙͍̠̤̐̅͛t̴̛͔͓̏͜s̷̢̮͉͕̟̀̽ú̷̦̻̱̹̃̅̓r̷͖̮̘̋̎̌̋͋i̷͆ͅ!

Izuku turned to face her, and that aroma of flowers filled her senses. Ochaco's head swam, her nerves screamed. “Hi, Kanroji.” Izuku said softly.

Everything stopped.

–

Shit- fucking damnit!

Shouto was not usually one to curse, he had spent much of his final years as Giyuu surrounded by little ears (Tanjiro and Nezuko, Inosuke, Zenitsu, Kanao, and eventually, the Uzuis’ baby). However, he thought that being flung sideways into a demon roughly the size and firmness of a brick wall warranted a few swears.

So the second demon was definitely the stronger one, and its blood demon art was going to be a problem.

Shouto shook stars from his vision and leapt forward just in time to avoid the large demon's grasping claws. “Water Breathing, Ninth Form: Splashing Water Flow, Turbulent!” He pushed off the demon's chest, righting himself on the ground.

Izuku was still nowhere in sight, so for the time being he was on his own. He had to deal with this large demon so he could focus on its much deadlier companion.

Shouto drew his katana, already running forward. He could hear the splashes of water he left in his wake as he swerved out of the demon's line of sight.

He wasn't as light-footed as Izuku, or as flexible as someone like Kanroji had been, but Shouto was no slouch at sudden changes in direction.

He heard the demon this time, and braced himself. (Blood Demon Art: Shifting Gravity).

Shouto let himself be flung up into the air, twisting out of it. Of all the directions for the demon to fling him, up toward the covered ceiling was the most ideal. He sucked in a lungful of air, sword gathering force as the demon released him and let his body drop.

Shouto assumed the demon underestimated him, that it expected him to fall to the ground and splatter into a pile of blood and viscera. All the better, because it meant the creature didn’t do anything as he fell, his sword coming above his head.

“Water Breathing, Eighth Form: Waterfall Basin!” Shouto's aim was true, and his nichirin slid like a hot knife through butter, sending the large demon's head rolling.

He landed in a splash of water, his manifested waterfall sloshing away into a puddle now that the force directing it was gone. Shouto was soaked at this point, and he again wished he had been born quirkless like Izuku.

The large demon's body shuddered, seeming to take a moment to register that it had been beheaded. Then it collapsed.

“You think that will stop him?!” The villain with all the hands screeched, sounding gleeful. “These are my secret weapons! You can't kill them, you low-level hero!” 

Shouto didn’t respond. Either this man didn't know about nichirin blades, or he didn’t recognize one when he saw it. Shouto didn’t really care.

The demon was dying all the same, its body flaking away in familiar burning ashes. Shouto didn’t bother watching, and turned back to the more pressing threat.

Unfortunately, he was intercepted. Aizawa-sensei, who must have dealt with the human villains, approached just in time to see Shouto slay the larger demon.

“Todoroki!” The hero shouted, his voice a mixture of fear, rage, and disbelief that reminded Shouto absently of Sanemi. Shouto didn't pay him any mind. He had no time for reminiscing or scolding from people who didn't understand- 

-didn't know the fear-pain-hate of slaying. The crushing weight he was holding back, the emotions that could come later when he was safe. The, why why why? Hadn't they given enough couldn’t he have lived peacefully this time. He didn’t want to do it all again, was it all for nothing. Was Kocho going to have to die again- when would they be satisfied?

Shouto ran, dodging his teacher as he headed for the demon. The cries of the villain (“HOW DID YOU KILL HIM?! CHEATER! CHEATER! KIRAMEKU KILL THE CHEATER!”) were ignored.

Shouto's sword spun, and for once he understood what Sanemi had told him once, on a sunny day eons ago, that Wind Breathing had been fueled by his anger. “Water Breathing, Third Form: Flowing Dance!”

Each slice of his katana cut through a pulse of lavender light from the demon, who seemed to be growing more and more amused.

“What kind of hero are you?” The demon taunted, finally moving. It leapt back from his sword, the water barely grazing its cheek as it floated down on his right. “Killing someone like that?” It didn’t sound worried, just faintly entertained and Shouto grit his teeth.

Shouto turned in the blink of an eye, his sword catching the demon's arm. Lavender skin split right down the center, bone splintering on either side of a blue blade.

Blood steamed as it gushed outward, and Aizawa shouted in alarm. Shouto jerked his katana free, the flayed side of the demon's (did that villain call it Kirameku?) arm already fading into ash as fresh skin closed over the wound, new fingers popping into existence with a gruesome crunch.

Shouto met wide, multi-colored eyes, and knew that had this demon been from the Taishō period, there would have been a kanji inked there. 

“I'm no hero. I am a demon slayer, and I'm going to rip your head off.”

–

Heat. There was fire all around him.

Blood... Demon.. Art.?

Someone had caught him as he fell, something soft and flexible.

 ‘Go… keep fight-’ “-nsou?”

“Are you hu-” ‘keep going until sunr-’“-hear me?”

‘-linded, use this si-’ “-needs help-” ‘-buramaru.’

“Hey! Hey Shi-” ‘-ake me your wife?’ “-rong with him-” ‘ll have me’

‘Ig-’

‘-banai’

‘-uro’

‘-nai Igur-’

“-sou!”

“SHINSOU?!”

Hitoshi sat bolt upright, knocking a familiar weight off his shoulders.

“What happened?!” He asked, every sense on high alert. How odd to have two working eyes…

“I don't know, we all got teleported here and you just sorta- went catatonic!” It was Jirou, the girl with the purple hair. Hitoshi rubbed his eyes, still feeling thrown off.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, standing up slowly. Jirou rolled her eyes.

“Don't apologize, idiot.” She snapped. Hitoshi bristled, but there was no real heat behind the girl's words so he didn't say anything else. “Just don't die, we're kinda surrounded by villains.”

From Hitoshi's other side, someone lets out a moan of despair. He looks over and sees another of his classmates, Yayaorozu, he thinks her name is. She has her hands pressed to her face and looks terrified.

Hitoshi looks at their surroundings, and sure enough the three of them are slowly being encircled by a gang of thugs. The odd terrain of the disaster zone was slowing them, but it wouldn't be long before they had to fight.

Hitoshi looked over to Jirou, who was in a sloppy fighting stance, then at the speakers in her boots. “Yayaorozu, can you make me a microphone that can connect to Jirou's shoes?”

The black-haired girl startled, looking surprised to be addressed. “Uh… yeah.” Her arm glowed briefly and then Hitoshi had a microphone in his hands.

Jirou, who seemed to be the more level-headed one, caught on and plugged one of her earlobe-plugs into the microphone.

“Who wants to fight me, you bastards!” Hitoshi shouted without preamble. The villains answered with a roar of voices, and the few that didn't respond, Hitoshi could feel fall under his quirk anyways as they responded with body movements and various noises. “Knock yourselves out.”

It sounded almost sarcastic, but Hitoshi felt a smile tug oddly at the skin of his face as each of the villains did exactly that. Most just slammed their head against something, though he could see others that used their quirks on themselves.

In seconds, the way to the exit was cleared, leaving a pile of unconscious villains all around them. Yayaorozu looked unnerved and Jirou in awe, and Hitoshi felt as that old insecurity bubbled up Since when did he give a damn what anyone else thought?!

“That was-” Yayaorozu began warily. Jirou interrupted her with a wide grin.

“-Insanely cool.” She told him, before starting for the door, “Let’s go, the others might need us.”

Hitoshi nodded in agreement and ran after the girl, Yayaorozu following behind. The three came out of the landslide zone, running toward the main plaza.

They were met by Kirishima, the enthusiastic redhead and the boy with the birdhead as they passed the ruins zone and together they all ran toward the center of the building.

How familiar is this, eh? Fighting in a group- where are your fellow pillars now?

Almost instinctively, Hitoshi's hand brought out his bo-staff as they ran. It was the weapon he had chosen to go with his costume, the one he had trained with with Izuku. It extended to its full length, and Hitoshi increased his stride, steadied his breathing.

Hurry Obanai, you're needed.

Something was wrong, he could feel it deep in his gut, Hitoshi needed to get to the main plaza.

He skidded into the central clearing and found chaos. Most of the villains were unconscious or incapacitated, but that wasn't what Hitoshi was focused on.

Just behind the fountain, a column of spinning water shot up, followed by an enraged yell. Hitoshi’s classmates caught up to him, and they too froze, looking at the growing typhoon.

Something flashed past and Kirishima yelped as Aizawa-sensei was flung at his feet. Their teacher groaned, rubbing his head. “Damn it.” His eyes were wild and he scrambled to his feet, looking ready to leap right back into it. 

“What's going on?!” Yayaorozu asked anxiously, helping Aizawa to his feet. Aizawa gripped his capture scarf, face set.

“Nothing you can help with. You all need to get back to the exit.” The man braced himself, and Hitoshi could see as he prepared to dash off.

Two simultaneous shouts interrupted Kirishima's next question.

“Blood Demon Art: FALLING STARS!”

“WATER BREATHING, ELEVENTH FORM: LULL!”

The pillar of water that had been steadily growing taller and wider, exploded outward with the force of a hurricane. Two figures went sprawling in different directions.

“Todoroki!” Aizawa shouted, clearly distressed. A pressure was building behind Hitoshi's eyes, something coiled in his mind, ready to strike.

“God damn it, Tomioka…” Hitoshi mumbled, lifting his bo-staff. Shouto shakily lifted himself off the ground, the de-villa-mo-in already healing its sliced open chest.

Someone behind Hitoshi gagged, sounding horrified. “Oh my god- what… what is that?!”

Hitoshi barely heard them, his eyes fixed on Shouto and the rapidly approaching threat. The other boy was bleeding from his forehead, and even as he raised his head, Hitoshi could see how his body shook.

The blue katana Izuku had given the teen that very morning had been flung out of his hands. It skittered to a halt ten feet from Hitoshi, glinting in the low light of the USJ.

The villain was in bad shape too, missing an eye and slowly but surely regenerating an arm. Aizawa called out again, but the demon was focused on Shouto, teeth bared and eyes glittering as it advanced on him.

Shouto's wild gaze flickered from the approaching figure to his out of reach weapon. Then those heterochromatic eyes landed on Hitoshi. 

Iguro, IGURO, HELP HIM!

“Obanai-” Tomioka choked out, eyes desperate. The thing in his head struck.

Chapter Text

“Serpent Breathing, First Form: Winding Serpent Slash-”

It was as easy as, well, as easy as breathing. He lunged, and it was second nature to scoop the katana into his hands. Behind him, Shouto let out a barely audible sigh of relief, laying his head back down on the ground.

Hitoshi didn’t pay him any mind, shifting the other's nichirin in his hands. It was unfamiliar, light and straight as opposed to his own heavy, curved blade.

The demon, who was looking increasingly panicked, stopped approaching and snarled at him. “Why are there so many of you?! You were supposed to be lowly hero students!!”

Hitoshi lowered his stance, eyes narrowing. “So you thought you'd be able to just show up and eat as many children as you wanted, eh?” He snarled. The demon waved its arms, the thing's tattered kimono reflecting the dim light in every direction.

“Yes!” 

Hitoshi bared his teeth. “Over my dead fucking body, bastard.” The demon's response was a bloody smile, and Hitoshi watched with disgust as its teeth rotated back into place with the wet grind of flesh on bone.

“That can be arranged.” It snarled, and its eyes glowed white. “Blood Demon Art: Falling Stars!” Hitoshi darted forward, quick as a snake.

He could see why Shouto had used his eleventh form, it would have been a perfect defense against the weird pulses of downward force that were doing their best to punch Hitoshi into the concrete.

Rather than deflect the attacks, Hitoshi dodged, letting the colored energy blasts carve craters into the ground as he weaved around them. 

It was something akin to a dance. Hitoshi would move forward, using Serpent Breathing to get in close and aim for the demon's neck. In return, the demon would use its Blood Art, something related to gravity, to send him flying off in some direction.

It was a battle of endurance, and Hitoshi was rapidly getting irritated. “Just die, damn you!” The boy shouted, again getting just close enough to wedge the borrowed nichirin into the demon's neck before being sent flying back past Aizawa, who was fighting with the hand villain.

The deep wound on the demon's neck stitched itself closed, veins crisscrossing the gap and tugging its head firmly back down as they reconnected. It shook out its long hair and scowled at him. “What kinda weapon is that?” It asked, and Hitoshi could see where the nichirin had irritated its skin.

He grinned, all fangs and venom. “The kind that'll send you straight to hell where you belong! I've slayed more demons than your tiny brain could even count!”

The demon just snarled at him. He hadn't managed to kill the damn thing yet, but he had managed to injure it repeatedly, and Hitoshi could see the mounting hunger in its eyes. Soon enough it would need to eat, to gain more energy and it would get sloppy.

Hitoshi lunged forward again, his body ached from being repeatedly slammed into the ground and dropped from various heights, but he kept moving. He was so focused on the demon, that when he made contact, he nearly didn’t put enough force into the swing. He had expected to get blasted back again.

Instead, he came down hard atop the gravity demon, his katana wedged half-way through its neck. The demon didn’t respond, suddenly clawing at the ground to get away.

Hitoshi grinned, “Got you now, ugly mother-” SQUELCH.

The demon tore itself free. Literally. Hitoshi was left with the things twitching left arm and the two legs he was pinning down. Blood gushed over his shoes and coated the floor. He was so stunned that it took a second to register.

With the snap of regenerating bone, the demon's missing limbs grew out of its self-mutilated body. Blood splattered as the bleeding stumps were sealed with new skin. Hitoshi gave chase, the demon already scrambling away.

Then the thing spoke, and Hitoshi’s blood went cold. It wasn’t trying to get away from him, it was trying to get toward something else. The something else was the grappling hero and villain duo.

Aizawa had managed to restrain the hand villain in his capture weapon, but whatever the villain's quirk was it must have gotten him on the side of the arm. His skin had crumbled away like a demon in the sun, revealing the muscles and ligaments beneath. It was disgusting, but Hitoshi was more focused on the crumbled edges of his teacher's epidermis, where blood dripped like a leaky faucet.

The demon lunged forward, claws outstretched and Hitoshi understood. He went on missions with Shinazugawa often, he had seen this behavior before... “Fucking- DAMN IT! Serpent Breathing, Third Form: Coil Choke!” He wound around the demon's arms, a burst of energy pushing him forward. The limbs were sliced like minced meat, but it didn't stop its approach.

“Marechi… marechi…” The demon muttered wildly, its eyes glowing like it could decide whether or not to use its gravity shifting bullshit.

“Hey! Eyes on me.” He snapped, landing between his teacher and the demon. It paid him no mind, drool dripping from its maw as it tried to dodge around him. “Sensei. You need to dodge.” Hitoshi hissed over his shoulder, batting the demon back with a deep cut to its torso.

“What?!” Aizawa shouted. Hitoshi didn't have time for protests. He jumped to the side, letting the demon run ahead.

“DODGE!” Hitoshi commanded, sword already swinging. Whether from self preservation or ingrained instinct, Aizawa listened. His capture scarf shot out, and the man pulled himself out of the demon's path. “Serpent Breathing, Second Form: Venom Fangs of the Narrow Head.”

“Insect Breathing, Dance of the Butterfly: Caprice!” 

Both attacks landed at the same time. The demon's flailing arms were pierced, dosed with deadly wisteria at the same moment that Hitoshi's sword sliced through hair and fabric, taking its head off its shoulders. 

The demon gurgled and fell, body already shriveling to a purple husk from the poison. Hitoshi rolled out of the attack, coming to a stop on his feet. He turned to face Izuku, who had already resheathed his sword and was dusting off his haori with a pleasant expression.

Hitoshi gave him a nod. “Thanks.” Izuku beamed at him, and Hitoshi was taken by how different the expression was from anything he had ever seen on Shinobu's face.

“No problem, Iguro-san!” Hitoshi shook his head at his friend's bright words, a huff of amusement pushing past his lips.

“Still too damn smart for your own good, eh Kocho?” He asked rhetorically. Izuku giggled, pressing a finger to his lips conspiratorialy. 

“Giyuu figured it out actually!” He revealed. Hitoshi took a moment to be surprised that Tomioka, dense as he always was, had figured out anything before he remembered.

“Damn it- Shouto!” He took off, running over to the boy's side. Shouto was still in a heap on the ground, bleeding slightly from whatever had cut his forehead. Thankfully, he was no longer shaking and his breathing was steady.

Izuku materialized by his side, already lifting Shouto into his arms. It was an absurd picture, because Izuku was a head shorter than Shouto and nearly half the width. Still, the other easily lifted their fellow pillar, lips pressed together in a fascimile of a smile. “What happened?” He asked tersely. Hitoshi shrugged helplessly.

“Hell if I know. He was fighting the stupid demon and they both got blown back.” Hitoshi frowned, reaching forward as he spoke. He pulled Shouto's sheathe off of his belt and slid the nichirin into it, holding the sword for safekeeping.

The group that arrived with Hitoshi in the plaza, the one that had clearly been watching the entire fight finally spoke up. “Wh- what did you…” It was Jirou who spoke, her voice a trembling whisper. Fear. Their classmates were afraid of them.

An hour ago, the very thought would have stuck Hitoshi right in the heart- that little bit of him that had whispered about his unlovable, villainous quirk would have reared its head. Now, Obanai simply glared at them, a stern thing devoid of anger but firm all the same.

“Later. Aizawa-sensei is hurt, Shouto's hurt. And I want to know where the fuck the heroes are.” His last words were low, anger rising. The dangerous smile Izuku wore was a clear indicator that he was thinking the same thing.

The group made their way through the sea of unconscious villains that scattered the plaza and Hitoshi felt a spark of that old hero worship. Shouta Aizawa was no demon slayer, but he was a damn good hero.

They reached the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the exit, Hitoshi leading the way. It was a simple climb, tedious only in its length and the terrified tension that their classmates held in every line of their body.

To Hitoshi's relief, he crested the top of the stairs and found the rest of his class. Some looked a little worse for wear, and Kaminari, the blonde with the electricity quirk, had somehow shorted out his own brain and was stood listlessly in a corner, making odd noises. However, overall everyone looked just fine.

“...hi.” Hitoshi raised a hand, unsure what to say when faced with so many wide eyes.

The class exploded into questions and shouts, twenty voices overlapping in a cacophony of freshly-traumatized teenage angst. To his relief, Hitoshi didn’t have to shout to quiet the class.

Someone else did that for him by bursting through the main doors to the USJ. The double doors slammed against the wall and a crowd of Pro Heroes poured in, armed and bristling. Sun poured in from the open doors, illuminating them all.

The rest of the class made various noises of relief and gratitude, but Hitoshi had suddenly gotten tunnel vision. Amongst the terrified hero students stood a figure dressed in pink and green, her single brown braid impeccable despite the circumstances.

Hitoshi suddenly found it hard to breathe. It's just Ochaco, a part of his mind whispered. And it was. But she was also Mitsuri. His Mitsuri.

He could see it in the shine of her eyes and the new way she held her shoulders. Sometime between that moment and the last time he had seen her, she had remembered, just like him.

Always the bold one out of the two of them, Ochaco moved first. Between one breath and the next she was there, warm and alive against him. Arms around him, hearts beating out a constant reminder that they were here. Safe and alive.

“Hi, Iguro-san…” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. Her voice was shaky, the hint of tears lingered in her tone and Hitoshi wanted to gather her up and kiss them away. To make sure that nothing ever made her unhappy ever again.

He settled instead for pulling her close. One arm around her waist and one on the back of her head, his gave pressed into hair that still smelled of sakura and sunshine. “Hello… Kanroji.”

-

Izuku was torn between smiling fondly at their reunion and rolling his eyes. It was undoubtedly sweet, at least for the three of them that understood the context and were not currently knocked unconscious. However, the heroes who had just arrived were giving them odd looks.

Not that they had any right to. Izuku, Ochaco, Hitoshi and Shouto had fought this battle. Aizawa too. None of these heroes, shiny and concerned, had raised a hand to help.

They hadn't been there when Ochaco floated a half-dead Thirteen across a villain infested lake. They hadn't been there when Izuku slayed the mist demon. They hadn't been there when Aizawa was targeted by a feral demon for the scent of his blood, and they certainly hadn't been there when Shouto had fought hard enough to knock himself out.

Izuku let himself be angry. He let his smile drop, his eyes narrow. He stood defensively next to Ochaco and Hitoshi and let himself feel.

The next hours were a blur. The heroes, All Might, Present Mic, Snipe, Ectoplasm, and Midnight, went around rounding up the villains. Aizawa-sensei had defeated all of the villains in the plaza, and apparently Hitoshi had gotten to most of the villains in the Landslide Zone.

However the other areas were still teeming with criminals that the heroes made quick work of. The students were given shock blankets and herded back onto the bus to go back tp UA.

Shouto, being the only student unconscious, along with Aizawa and Thirteen, were checked over by emergency responders. Izuku sat in the back of the ambulance as they headed for the hospital, ignoring the EMT's compliments on the bandage job he had done for Thirteen.

Hitoshi and Ochaco were with him as well, Hitoshi having glared All Might, a police officer, and three different medical techs into submission when they tried to stop the three from riding with Shouto.

Not a word was said between the four hashira the entire time, not even when the EMT announced that Shouto was stable and would likely be fine. 

Finally, after an eternity of check ups and well-meaning nurses telling the three to go home and rest, they were left alone.

Shouto had been hooked up to a heart monitor, the doctor having declared that he strained his heart and lungs, and needed to rest for a few days.

Izuku hadn't seen it, but he guessed that Shouto had used the 11th form of Water Breathing. It was probably the most useful form for defense, out of any of the breathing styles, but it worked by slowing down Shouto's heart rate significantly.

Hashiras they might be, but Shouto's body wasn't fully grown and he was much weaker than he had been as Tomioka. Izuku wasn't surprised that the form had nearly stopped his heart. Still, the doctor had said that he would be fine.

The monitor beeped a steady, mournful tune as the pillars sat in silence. Ochaco was leaning against Hitoshi, who had undone her braid and was running his fingers through her hair.

Izuku sat closest to Shouto's hospital bed, feeling that horrible, familiar anger surging. After everything that they had sacrificed, all the deaths… in the end it was all for nothing.

Because demons were back. Demons were back and they had four total slayers and a single swordsmith. 

Ochaco was the one to voice the question that was hanging in the air: “Do you think… Muzan is back too?” She asked. Izuku hadn't lived long enough to fight against Muzan Kibutsuji, but the others had. The raw fear and hatred in Hitoshi's eyes was enough to make Izuku uneasy.

“He better fucking not be.” Hitoshi growled, hands twitching as he parted Ochaco's hair into three sections. Izuku thought through the fight at the USJ, eyebrows furrowed.

“I think… we might be dealing with someone new. Not Muzan.” Izuku spoke, putting his thoughts out. “The demons at the USJ, they felt different.”

Ochaco perked up, “Oh yeah! The old demons were like- ew, old and yucky. These ones were like… bloody but young!”

Izuku blinked and Hitoshi simply gave a little huff of amusement, pressing a kiss to the top of Ochaco's head. The girl whined at their blank facial expressions and sunk back against Hitoshi. “Nevermind.”

“No, Ochaco, I understand what you meant.” Izuku reassured her, patting the other reassuringly on the leg, “The demons of the Taishō Era gave off an aura of death and rot. These demons do feel fresher, I think that whoever their progenitor is, it's not Muzan.”

Hitoshi's long fingers continued working as he spoke, weaving one section of Ochaco's long brown hair into a braid. “‘s much as that makes us feel better, it doesn't really change things, does it? Demons are still back. And we're still going to have to fight them again.”

“Yeah.” Izuku couldn’t discern the emotions in Shouto's hoarse voice as he raised his head. He might have been determined, might have been resigned, angry or sad or nothing at all. “Yeah we are.”

Chapter Text

The grim, determined air was broken by the sound of the door slamming open. Shouto flinched, while the other three immediately went for their weapons, despite Izuku being the only one to have one.

“SHOUTO!” A blur of red and white coverged on Shouto, and Izuku pressed his lips together.

The figure clung to Shouto, arms wrapped around the boy. It was a young woman, probably in her early twenties. She had white hair with red streaks and her soft, narrow face made it clear who this was.

“Nee-san, I'm fine.” Shouto reassured his older sister, patting her awkwardly on the back. He shot Izuku a helpless look and Izuku simply gave a teasing shrug. 

A broad young man with white hair stood at the opposite side of the bed, looking worried but also fondly exasperated. “Let him breathe, Yumi.” He scolded his sister, pulling her back gently.

The girl, Yumi, sniffled and rubbed her eyes. “Ahh! I was so worried when your teacher called and said you were in the hospital!” She leaned back in to hug Shouto with a bit more restraint this time.

Izuku could see Shouto visibly soften at his sister's words. “I want to remember… my sister too.” He had said. Izuku's eyes found Shouto's over Yumi Todoroki's shoulder and he tilted his head. Pain flashed across Shouto's face as he shook his head minutely. No.

Izuku reached out and put a hand on Shouto's knee. He couldn't even begin to imagine how it would feel to have an older sister, but not have her be Kanae. Anyone with eyes could see that Shouto loved his siblings, but anyone who knew Giyuu could see that they made him ache with lonliness.

“Fuyumi-nee…” Shouto eventually murmured, pushing softly at her shoulders. She let him go and sat back before seeming to finally realize that there were other people in the room.

“Oh! Hello!” She greeted them, turning a smile as bright as the sun onto the three other pillars. “Are you Shouto's friends?”

“Yes!” Izuku chirped, before Hitoshi could speak. The purple-haired boy had wrinkled up his face, clearly unwilling to be considered Shouto's anything. “Nice to meet you Todoroki-san, I'm Izuku Midoriya.”

Fuyumi Todoroki's face went through a few different expressions before settling on the expression one might wear when looking at a particularly cute puppy. “It's nice to meet you too.”

The woman was kind, Izuku could tell. She was all soft edges and sad smiles. Shouto's brother, on the other hand, seemed sharper. He was talking lowly to Shouto, his face worried.

But Izuku found a kindred spirit in the man's gray eyes. Familiar anger, bitter and cold, lived in that gaze. Izuku turned his attention back to the sister, who was enthusiastically greeting Ochaco and Hitoshi.

“I love your hair!” Ochaco told her, beaming. Fuyumi looked startled for a moment, reaching up to touch her red and white hair.

“Oh, thank you…” She accepted the compliment quietly. Ochaco seemed to catch the mood shift and slumped against Hitoshi, who merely moved his arms to accommodate her as he finished her first plait.

Shouto's brother's face twisted in a soundless snarl for the briefest of moments. Something was festering in this family. Shouto's eyes held a warning as he made eye contact with Izuku. Not now, not here.

Izuku gave Shouto a tight smile and tilted his head in acquiesence. Later he would corner Shouto, would ask him what was wrong there, what he needed. But for now he answered Fuyumi Todoroki's questions about Shouto and Class 1-A with an indulgent smile.

Shouto's brother, whose name Izuku still doesn't know, slapped a hand to his knee as he slid off of Shouto's hospital bed to stand up.

“Well, Yumi, we should get going.” He said, smiling genially at them all.

Shouto's face pinched, and Hitoshi’s looked incredibly relieved. Izuku smothered a little giggle with his hand. 

“Why?” Shouto asked quietly, clearly upset at the idea of his siblings leaving. Fuyumi gave him amother quick hug and smiled around at Izuku and the other two.

“Your teacher and some police officers are waiting to speak with you,” Shouto's Brother explained, like it was no big deal. “The nurses let us in first because we're family, but we shouldn't keep them waiting.”

Izuku smiled and bade the elder Todorokis goodbye. When he turned to face the other pillars, their expressions mirrored what he was feeling.

Well shit.

“What are we telling the heroes?!” Ochaco squealed. She shook her hands at her side anxiously.

Izuku's mind raced. Aizawa-sensei had seen at least one of the demons being slain, maybe two. And a few of their classmates had watched Izuku slay the mist demon. Unless he, Hitoshi, and Shouto admitted to murder…

Izuku pursed his lips. “I think… the truth.”

Hitoshi sat up so suddenly that Ochaco yelped and had to grab her chair to avoid being dumped onto the floor. “Has your poison finally boiled your brain?!” The lavender-haired boy snapped.

“Don’t yell.” Shouto cut in, voice flat. “Izuku's right. Aizawa saw me slay the beak-demon. Unless you want to go to jail, there's really no explaining that away.”

Hitoshi groaned, tucking his face against Ochaco's hair. The girl in question reached back and ran her hand over the back of his head comfortingly.

“Right. Okay.”

Izuku felt concern and sympathy tug at his heart. It had taken him months to readjust after remembering his past life, and he'd only had to adjust to a normal life. Iguro had woken up and was immediately dealing with a battle, and now the prospect of spilling his guts to some random police officers.

“That's okay with everyone then?” Ochaco clraified, because Ochaco was always checking in on everyone.

Izuku and the others all nodded. 

“Midoriya-” a voice spoke from behind him, near the door. Izuku shuttered his expression behind a sweet smile, twisting to look back.

“Moshi, mosh!” He chirped automatically. Three people had entered the room: Aizawa-sensei, a man in a brown trenchcoat, and a skinny blonde man who quite frankly made every one of Izuku's doctor senses prickle.

“-Shinsou, Todoroki, and Uraraka.” Aizawa finished, unamused. All four hashira straightened up. “We need to talk.” He said gravely.

Ochaco fiddled nervously with her left braid, which Hitoshi had finished a few moments ago. Hitoshi avoided their teacher's piercing gaze by continuing to braid Ochaco's thick hair and Shouto simply stared at the three newcomers in that blank way of his.

The man in the trenchcoat stepped forward, taking off his hat and nodding to them. “I am Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi,” He said formally, “I'm here to interview you about the attack on the USJ. This is-”

“All Might.” Izuku cut in brightly, smiling. He pressed his fingers together.

All three adults startled, looking equal parts shocked and (with the exception of Aizawa) terrified. The withered man, who Izuku had deduced was All Might, literally spewed blood from between his teeth. Izuku's friends barely reacted, except for Ochaco who gave a little gasp of understanding.

“Uh- ah… Young Mido- boy. Why do you think that?” Small Might asked, coughing rather harshly.

“Your favor your right side, I noticed it during heroics class. Also you breathe oddly. Only one side of your chest expands- its very distinctive.” Izuku explained, raising a finger to point out his observations. “Also- your reaction confirmed it for me.”

Small Might and the Detective gaped at him, while Aizawa rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Problem Child.” He mumbled tiredly. Izuku flashed a toothy grin.

“Now you wanted to interrogate us?” He reminded Detective Tsukauchi. Aizawa-sensei frowned.

“Interview you. Not interrogate.” Their teacher corrected, throwing the detective a stern look. Izuku and Hitoshi both laughed.

Izuku's sinister giggle tinkled like a bell while Hitoshi's unamused bark was harsh and gruff.

“Tell it like it is, Sensei.” Hitoshi scolded the undeground hero. “You want to know why we killed those demons. Don't lie.”

The three men stiffened. Tsukauchi leaned forward, eyes wide with surprise but also suspicious. “So you admit to killing people during the attack on the Unforeseen Simulation Joint?” He asked harshly.

Shouto frowned, pushing himself more upright in his bed. “No. We don't kill people.” He clarified. If Izuku was a less refined person, he would have sighed in exasperation. Shouto really did not know how to navigate emotions or social situations in general. For all that he was more expressive now, he remained just as dense.

“But you said-” Small Might began, eyebrows furrowed over his horribly sunken eyes. Ochaco puffed out her cheeks, glowering at him.

“We don't kill people.” She repeated, crossing her arms firmly. 

Izuku could appreciate the sentiment, really. To be accused of slaying a human was tantamount to treason in the Demon Slayer Corps, so he understood why the suggestion ruffled both hashiras’ feathers. However, repeating the same phrase with different emphasis wasn't making Aizawa-sensei, Tsukauchi, or Small Might, any less confused.

Izuku leaned in toward the three men like he had a secret to share, putting himself into the situation to elaborate. “Ara, ara. What my comrades mean is that we don't kill humans. That would be horribly evil! We only kill demons!” He simpered, “We are Demon Slayers after all.”