Chapter Text

Izuku Midoriya stood at the edge of the middle school roof, tears streaming down his face. All Might's words echoed in his mind: "Without a quirk... no, I should be honest. It's not possible to become a hero." The setting sun cast long shadows across the concrete, and his notebook — the one labeled "Hero Analysis for the Future #13" — lay torn and soggy near his feet.

"I'm sorry, Mom," he whispered, closing his eyes. The wind rushed past his ears as he fell forward.

But death never came.

Instead, Izuku found himself plunging into icy waters. Salt burned his eyes and filled his lungs as he thrashed in the unfamiliar sea. Just before consciousness faded, strong arms pulled him from the depths.

"Another one falling from the sky? The Grand Line gets stranger every year," a gruff voice muttered.

When Izuku awoke, he was aboard a Marine vessel, surrounded by men in crisp white uniforms. A small tiger cat dozed on his chest, purring softly. Vice Admiral Garp stood at the foot of his bed, arms crossed and grinning.

"W-where am I?" Izuku bolted upright, his heart racing. "The last thing I remember was jumping off the roof of my school, and then I was falling into the ocean..." His eyes darted around the unfamiliar room, taking in the pristine white uniforms of the men surrounding him. "Wait, those uniforms... I've never seen military uniforms like that in Japan before. Am I in another country? Oh no, oh no, am I in trouble? Did I accidentally drift into restricted waters? But that's impossible, the school isn't near the ocean, and the trajectory of my fall wouldn't have—"

The words spilled out faster and faster, Izuku's signature muttering reaching hurricane speeds. His hands gesticulated wildly as he spiraled deeper into his analysis, causing Koby, Helmeppo, and even the battle-hardened Garp to stare in shocked silence at the sheer velocity of his verbal deluge.

tap

A tiny paw pressed against Izuku's forehead, immediately halting his muttering spiral. The small tiger cat had awakened and fixed him with an almost exasperated look, as if to say, "Calm down, human." Its amber eyes held his gaze steadily until Izuku's breathing began to normalize.

"Sorry," Izuku whispered, a blush creeping across his cheeks. "I... um... tend to do that sometimes."

Garp settled into a chair beside Izuku's bed, the wood creaking under his bulk. Behind him, two young cabin boys – Koby with his distinctive pink hair and Helmeppo with his blonde locks – stood at attention, though their curious eyes were fixed on the strange boy they'd fished from the sea.

"Japan?" Garp tilted his head, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Never heard of a place called Japan, kid."

Izuku's eyes widened in disbelief. "What? But... but that's impossible! I'm from Japan! How can you not—" He looked around at the uniforms again, his analytical mind racing. "Those uniforms... I've never seen anything like them in Japan..."

Garp and the two cabin boys behind him tilted their heads in perfect unison, mirroring Izuku's confusion. "You keep mentioning this 'Japan' place," Garp said, scratching his chin thoughtfully, "but in all my years sailing the Grand Line, I've never come across it. Are you sure you're not from one of the Four Blues?"

Izuku felt like his world was tilting on its axis. His hands gripped the bedsheets tightly as he tried to process what he was hearing. "Grand Line? Four Blues?" His voice came out as a hoarse whisper. "I-I don't understand. Those places don't exist! I've studied world geography extensively — I had to, to track international hero activities — and I've never heard of anything like that!"

His mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. No Japan? Places he'd never heard of? Uniforms unlike anything he'd seen before? The implications made his head spin. "This can't be happening," he muttered, his face growing pale. "Either this is some elaborate prank, or..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought, but the possibility that he might have somehow ended up in another world loomed large in his mind.

The small tiger cat on his lap sensed his distress and pressed closer, its warm presence acting as an anchor amid his spiraling thoughts.

"My clothes!" Izuku suddenly remembered. "Where are my clothes?"

"Oh, the ones you were wearing when you fell out of the sky into the sea?" Garp replied casually. "They're drying right over there."

Izuku attempted to leap out of bed. "Whoa there, kid, slow down!" Garp's hand clamped down on Izuku's shoulder, gently but firmly pressing him back against the mattress. The little cat, sensing Izuku's urgency, hopped onto his chest and planted its paws firmly on his sternum, as if trying to pin him down. Its amber eyes stared intently at him, a silent plea for him to stay put. Izuku’s legs, still shaky, wobbled beneath him as he tried to push himself up. "Where is it? Where is it?" he muttered, his hands already scrabbling at the blankets, searching.

"Hey kid, what are you looking for?" Garp asked, watching the green-haired boy's desperate movements.

Without stopping his search, Izuku responded, "My phone! I need to find my phone!"

Koby spoke up for the first time, his voice tentative. "Phone? What's that?"

Izuku froze mid-search, slowly turning to face the pink-haired boy. "What do you mean, 'what's that'? It's a small rectangular device I use to make phone calls..." His voice trailed off as he saw the genuine confusion on their faces. "You... you don't have cell phones here?"

"How do you make calls to another person?" Garp asked, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out what appeared to be a small snail-like creature, setting it on the bedside table.

Izuku stared at the creature, his mouth hanging open. Then the snail's eyes turned to look directly at him, blinking lazily, and Izuku felt the room start to spin. His face went chalk-white as the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place.

"Oh... oh no..." he whispered, slumping back against the pillows. "This isn't just another country. This isn't even my world. I got... I actually got..." His voice cracked as the absurdity of his situation hit him full force. "I got isekai'd!"

The last thing he saw before his vision went dark was Garp's confused face and the Den Den Mushi tilting its head at him in perfect synchronization.

Four Day's after Izuku went missing,

The Midoriya apartment felt like a tomb. Inko sat alone at her kitchen table, surrounded by maps and missing person flyers that would soon be meaningless. Her trembling hands clutched the official notice that had arrived that morning: the Hero Public Safety Commission and police force were formally closing their investigation into Izuku Midoriya's disappearance.

Detective Tsukauchi stood by the window, his face tight with barely contained anger. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Midoriya. I tried to fight this decision, but..." He clenched his fists. "They're calling it a 'necessary resource allocation adjustment.' Said they can't justify continuing to dedicate manpower to..." His voice caught, unable to repeat their cruel words about a quirkless child.

"Three days," Inko whispered, her voice hollow. "They gave up after just three days." Her quirk activated involuntarily, pulling Izuku's favorite notebook across the table toward her shaking hands. "Because he's quirkless. Because they think he's not worth—" Her voice broke.

The detective moved to sit across from her. "I'm not giving up," he said firmly. "Official investigation or not, I'll keep looking. There's something wrong about this whole situation. People don't just vanish into thin air, quirk or no quirk."

But they both knew what an unofficial investigation meant: limited resources, no backup, no authority to access security footage or question witnesses. The hero agencies had already recalled their staff, the police barricades were being dismantled, and the media vans outside were packing up their equipment.

Inko's phone lay silent on the table, her desperate messages to Izuku still unread:

"Baby, please come home."
"I don't care what anyone says about you being quirkless."
"You're my everything."
"Please be safe."
"I won't stop looking for you."
"Mama loves you so much."

The school had already moved on, treating Izuku's empty desk as just another vacant seat. His classmates, who had barely acknowledged him in life, now whispered that maybe he'd run away because he was quirkless, as if that somehow justified the authorities' quick abandonment of the case.

"They didn't even try," Inko said, staring at the security footage still playing on her laptop. The image of Izuku vanishing mid-fall had become burned into her mind. "How can they just... stop? There's no body, no evidence of... of..." She couldn't bring herself to say the word 'death.'

Tsukauchi's jaw tightened. "The commission said they need to focus their resources on 'more pressing matters involving active quirk users.' Their words, not mine." His normally calm demeanor cracked slightly. "It's wrong. All of it. A missing child should be a missing child, quirk or no quirk."

Outside, workers were taking down the missing person posters. The hashtag #FindIzuku had already dropped off trending lists, replaced by news about the latest hero rankings and quirk-related incidents. The world was moving on, leaving Inko Midoriya alone with her grief and unanswered questions.

In Izuku's room, his analysis notebooks sat untouched, his dreams of heroics now seeming like cruel jokes in light of how quickly the hero society had abandoned him. His mother stood in the doorway, clutching his pillow to her chest, breathing in what remained of his scent.

"I won't stop looking," she whispered to the empty room. "I don't care what they say. I don't care if I have to search alone. You're out there somewhere, Izuku. And I'll find you, baby. I promise."

The setting sun cast long shadows through his window, darkness creeping across All Might posters that now felt like bitter reminders of a society that had deemed her quirkless son unworthy of their continued attention. But in that darkness, Inko Midoriya's determination burned bright. With or without help, she would keep searching. Because somewhere, somehow, her boy was out there.

And no one, not the Hero Public Safety Commission, not the police, not society itself, would make her give up on finding him.

As Tsukauchi was leaving the Midoriya apartment, his phone buzzed. The caller ID showed All Might's number.

"Tsukauchi speaking."

"It's me," All Might's voice came through, unusually subdued. "I... heard about the commission shutting down the Midoriya investigation. I need to meet with you. There's something you should know about that day."

Tsukauchi stepped away from the apartment door, lowering his voice. "What is it?"

"Not over the phone. This is... something I need to tell you in person."

"Understood. I'll meet you at the usual place."

As he ended the call, Tsukauchi cast one last glance at the Midoriya apartment door. Whatever All Might needed to tell him about young Midoriya, he had a feeling it would only add more questions to an already baffling case.

The top floor of Might Tower was eerily silent as Detective Tsukauchi stepped out of the elevator. All Might, in his deflated form, sat by the window, his gaunt face a stark reflection in the glass as the city lights twinkled below.

"I met him that day," All Might said, his voice heavy with guilt, not turning from the cityscape. "Young Midoriya. He asked me...if someone without a quirk could become a hero."

Tsukauchi remained silent, allowing the weight of the confession to hang in the air.

"I told him no." All Might's fists clenched in his lap. "I told a young boy, full of dreams, a boy who clearly idolized heroes… I told him it wasn't possible. Told him to be realistic, to set his sights on being a police officer." A bitter laugh escaped him. "Me, the Symbol of Peace, telling someone they couldn't be a hero. How far I've fallen."

"You couldn't have known," Tsukauchi said softly.

"Couldn't I?" All Might turned, his sunken eyes filled with remorse. "I saw the light die in his eyes when I said those words. I saw something break. And now…" He gestured helplessly. "Vanished. Into thin air. The security footage shows nothing. No body. No trace. Just…gone. And the commission…" His voice hardened. "Three days. Three days they searched before dismissing him as 'not worth the resources.' Because he's quirkless."

Tsukauchi joined All Might at the window, the sprawling city a silent witness to their shared grief. "The timing of your meeting and his disappearance..." he began, letting the implication hang unspoken.

The city lights twinkled below, reflecting in Tsukauchi's sharp eyes as he faced All Might. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken accusations.

"You were quirkless once," Tsukauchi said quietly, his words cutting through the silence. "Have you forgotten where you came from? What would Nana Shimura say if she knew you told that boy his dream was impossible?"

All Might flinched, each word a blow. The mention of his mentor, Nana Shimura, struck a particularly painful chord.

"I found something you should see." Tsukauchi produced a notebook, its edges singed and pages water-damaged. Hero Analysis for the Future #13. "Remember signing this? Did you even bother to look inside?"

All Might took the notebook with trembling hands, his sunken eyes widening with each page he turned. Detailed quirk analyses, strategic battle scenarios, support gear designs—all meticulously documented with an astonishing level of insight.

"I've never seen analysis this thorough," Tsukauchi continued, his voice unwavering. "Not even from seasoned professionals. That boy wasn't just dreaming; he was preparing. All he needed was a chance. Someone to believe in him, to guide him, to train him. With his intellect, he could have been the first quirkless hero. His mind alone...could have changed the world."

All Might's hands trembled as he turned another page. "I... I had no idea."

"No, you didn't. Because you didn't look. You saw 'quirkless' and nothing more." Tsukauchi's words were measured, yet heavy with disappointment. "We need help. More than ever. Talk to Nezu. Show him this notebook. If we find Izuku…" He paused, his next words carefully chosen. "I think Nezu would appreciate him. Someone with that analytical mind…"

"Yes," All Might said, clutching the notebook tightly. A spark of renewed purpose flickered in his eyes. "You're right. May I keep this, to show Nezu?" His voice gained strength. "Whether we find him in this world...or another, we owe him that much. To finally see his potential."

The weight of their collective failure settled heavily in the room—not just All Might's dismissive words, but an entire society that had failed to recognize the brilliance of a quirkless boy who only wanted to help.

The First Day Izuku didn't come home

Inko's knuckles were white as she gripped the doorframe of the Bakugo home, her breath coming in short gasps from running. "Please, has anyone seen Izuku? He hasn't come home, and he's not answering his phone..."

Mitsuki Bakugo's sharp eyes softened with concern at the sight of her friend's distress. "Katsuki!" she called up the stairs. "Get down here! Have you seen Izuku today?"

Heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs as Katsuki emerged, his perpetual scowl deepening at the mention of Deku's name. "Why the hell would I care where that quirkless loser went?"

The words hit Inko like a physical blow, making her stumble back a step. Mitsuki's expression transformed from concern to pure rage in an instant.

"What did you just say?" Mitsuki's voice was deadly quiet as she rounded on her son. Her hand shot out, grabbing Katsuki by the ear. "That 'quirkless loser' has a name, and his mother is standing right here, you disrespectful brat! How dare you!"

"Tch." Katsuki turned away, but not before something flickered across his face – something that might have been guilt, quickly buried under his usual anger. "Whatever. I haven't seen Deku since school ended. He probably just ran off crying somewhere like he always does."

"KATSUKI!" Mitsuki's voice echoed through the house. "Get upstairs before I really lose my temper! And don't you dare come down until you learn some basic human decency!"

As Katsuki stomped back upstairs, Mitsuki turned to Inko, who stood trembling in the doorway, tears streaming down her face. "Inko, I'm so sorry. That boy... I thought I raised him better than this."

But Inko barely heard her. All she could think about was how many times Izuku must have heard words like that – not just from Katsuki, but from everyone. How many times had her sweet, brilliant boy been dismissed as nothing but a "quirkless loser"?

And now he was missing.

Katsuki slammed his door with enough force to rattle the walls, small explosions crackling from his palms. The sound of his mother comforting that crying mess Auntie Inko drifted up from downstairs, and it only made his anger burn hotter.

"Stupid fucking Deku," he snarled, pacing his room like a caged animal. "Always causing problems. Always making everyone worry about his useless ass."

He kicked his desk chair, sending it crashing into the wall. Good. Let them hear it downstairs. Let them know exactly how much he didn't care about their precious Izuku.

The homework on his desk caught his eye – specifically the empty seat next to him in class today. Not that he'd noticed. Not that it mattered. Deku was probably just hiding somewhere, writing in those creepy-ass notebooks about heroes he could never be. Analyzing quirks he'd never have.

"Bet he's just trying to get attention," Katsuki muttered, flopping onto his bed. "Probably thinks if he disappears, everyone will suddenly care about the quirkless wonder."

His eyes drifted to the ceiling, where an old poster of All Might declared "NEVER FEAR, FOR I AM HERE!" Katsuki's lip curled. That's what real heroes looked like. Not some pathetic, quirkless nobody who couldn't take a hint.

The memory of Deku's face from earlier that day flashed through his mind – that same stupid, determined look he always had, even after Katsuki had told him to take a swan dive off the roof. His hands sparked at the thought. He'd meant it as a joke, obviously. Just another way to put the nerd in his place.

"If that idiot actually..." He cut the thought off. No. Deku wasn't that stupid. He was too much of a coward to actually do anything like that.

From his shelf, that damn All Might figure Deku had given him years ago seemed to stare accusingly. Back when they were kids. Back before Katsuki got his awesome quirk and Deku turned out to be... nothing.

"What are you looking at?" he snapped at the figure. "He's the one who couldn't accept reality. Been telling him for years to give up those stupid dreams. Not my fault if he finally listened."

But Auntie Inko's face kept appearing in his mind. The way she'd stumbled back when he'd called Deku a quirkless loser. The tears in her eyes. She'd always been kind to him, always had extras of his favorite spicy snacks when he came over, always treated him like her second son.

"Whatever," he growled, rolling to face the wall. "Not my problem. He'll show up eventually, and everyone will forget this ever happened. Just like they always forget about him."

His phone buzzed. Probably his mom, telling him to come apologize. He ignored it.

Another buzz. Then another.

With a grunt of annoyance, he grabbed the phone. Messages from his classmates in their group chat:

"Anyone seen Midoriya?"
"That quirkless kid?"
"Yeah, his mom's filing a missing person report"
"LOL probably realized he had no future and ran away"
"Bakugo, you were the last one to talk to him, right?"

Katsuki's thumb hovered over the keyboard. The last one to talk to him. Yeah, he'd been the last one. Had told him to take a swan dive and maybe he'd get a quirk in his next life.

He hurled the phone across the room.

"Fuck off," he muttered to no one in particular. "Like I care what happened to that nerd."

The night grew deeper, but sleep wouldn't come. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Deku's face. That determined look slowly crumbling into something else. Something he'd never seen before in all the years he'd known him.

But that wasn't his fault. None of this was his fault. Deku was the one who couldn't accept reality. The one who kept chasing impossible dreams. The one who kept following Katsuki around with those annoying notebooks and that irritating concern.

"Showing up tomorrow with that stupid smile," Katsuki muttered into his pillow. "Probably got everyone worried for nothing. Useless Deku."

But tomorrow came, and Deku's seat remained empty.

And if Katsuki's pillow got a little damp that night, if his hands shook slightly when he passed the Midoriya apartment the next morning, if he found himself checking his phone more often than usual – well, that was nobody's business but his own.

Because Bakugo Katsuki didn't care about Deku.

He didn't care at all.

And he'd keep telling himself that until he believed it.

Chapter Text

The doorbell rang just as Katsuki was finishing his morning workout. Through his window, he could see Auntie Inko standing at their front door, clutching a stack of missing person flyers. His stomach twisted, but he ignored it, cranking up his music instead.

"Katsuki!" His mother's voice cut through the bass. "Get down here!"

"BUSY!" he shouted back, dropping into another set of push-ups. Sweat dripped onto his mat, or maybe it was something else. He pushed harder.

Footsteps thundered up the stairs. His door burst open, revealing his mother's furious face. "Inko, my best friend, is down there begging for help finding her son, and you're up here doing PUSH-UPS?"

"Not my problem," Katsuki grunted, not stopping his exercise. "I already told her yesterday I haven't seen that nerd."

"She's asking if you'll help put up flyers. Join the search party. Actually do something useful for once in your—"

"NO!" Katsuki exploded to his feet, small detonations popping from his palms. "I'm not wasting my time looking for someone who obviously doesn't want to be found! If that quirkless loser wanted to run away, that's his choice!"

The slap echoed through the room before he even saw his mother move. His cheek stung, but not as much as the look in her eyes.

"That 'quirkless loser' was your friend once," she said, her voice deadly quiet. "And his mother is downstairs crying her eyes out because the police have basically given up. Because society has decided her son isn't worth looking for. And you..." She jabbed a finger into his chest. "You're up here, throwing a tantrum because what? Because helping look for him might make you seem weak?"

"I don't care about looking weak!" Katsuki snarled. "I don't care about him at all! He's pathetic! Useless! Always following me around with those stupid notebooks, always trying to help when I don't need it, always looking at me with those damn eyes like he actually believes in me—"

He cut himself off, but it was too late. His mother's expression had already shifted from anger to something worse: understanding.

"Go help Inko," she said softly. "Or don't. But stop lying to yourself about not caring."

She left him standing there, his hands smoking and his chest heaving. Through his window, he could see Auntie Inko showing the neighbors Deku's picture. That familiar mop of green hair, those stupid freckles, that annoying hopeful smile...

"DAMMIT!" Katsuki slammed his fist into the wall, leaving a scorched dent. His phone buzzed again – more messages in the class group chat:

"Search party meeting at the park"
"Bring flashlights and water"
"Bakugo, you coming? You knew him best"

Knew him best. Yeah, right. Knew exactly how to hurt him best, maybe. Knew exactly what buttons to push, what dreams to crush, what words would make those stupidly determined eyes finally break.

"Should've just stayed in your lane, Deku," he muttered, watching Auntie Inko move to the next house. "Should've listened when I told you to give up. Should've..." His throat tightened. "Should've just kept smiling and taking notes and being annoying like always."

The stack of flyers in Auntie Inko's hands seemed smaller now. How many houses had she visited? How many times had she had to tell Deku's story, show his picture, beg for help that probably wouldn't come?

His phone buzzed one final time. A private message from his mom:

"She's going to the warehouse district next. Dangerous area for a woman alone."

Katsuki's hands clenched. Then unclenched. Then clenched again.

"FINE!" he roared, grabbing his jacket. "But I'm not doing this for that nerd! I just don't want Auntie Inko getting mugged or something!"

He thundered down the stairs, practically ripping the front door off its hinges. Auntie Inko was still visible at the end of the street, her shoulders slumped but still moving, still searching.

"Oi!" he called out, his voice rougher than intended. "You're doing it wrong. Deku... that nerd always liked high places. For watching heroes. Start with rooftops and work down."

If she was surprised by his sudden appearance, she didn't show it. Just nodded, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Don't get the wrong idea," he growled, snatching some flyers from her hands. "I still don't care about that useless Deku. But..." He looked away, scowling at nothing in particular. "But you always had the best spicy snacks, so... I guess I owe you one."

And if his hands shook slightly as he posted the flyers, if his eyes lingered a bit too long on that stupid smiling face, if his chest felt a bit too tight every time someone asked "Wasn't he that quirkless kid?"... well, that was nobody's business but his own.

Because Bakugo Katsuki didn't care about Deku.

He didn't care at all.

(But maybe, just maybe, he was starting to realize that not caring hurt a lot more than he'd expected.)

Day 3 - The Footage

Katsuki's world stopped the moment the video started playing on his phone. Some extra from class had sent it to the group chat – security footage from the school, grainy but clear enough to see that stupid green hair, that familiar uniform.

"Holy shit, guys! The police just released the footage! Midoriya actually..."

Katsuki's hands trembled as he watched Deku walk to the edge of the roof. His own words from that day echoed in his head: "Take a swan dive off the roof... maybe you'll get a quirk in your next life."

But he hadn't meant it. Not really. It was just words. Just stupid fucking words.

The phone slipped from his numb fingers as he watched Deku step off the edge. No hesitation. No dramatic pause. Just... gone.

"That fucking IDIOT!" Explosions burst from his palms, scorching his bedsheets. "That stupid, worthless, fucking DEKU!"

His phone kept buzzing with notifications:
"OMG did you see?"
"He really did it!"
"But where's the body?"
"They can't find him anywhere!"
"Bakugo, didn't you tell him to..."

He hurled the phone against the wall with enough force to crack the screen.

Because that was the thing that made no fucking sense. Deku had jumped – actually jumped, the useless nerd had actually done it – but there was no impact. No body. The video showed him falling, and then... nothing. Like he'd vanished into thin air.

The sound of sirens drew him to his window. An ambulance was parked outside the Midoriya apartment. His stomach lurched when he saw them wheeling out Auntie Inko on a stretcher.

"Cardiac episode," he heard someone say. "The shock of seeing the footage..."

Katsuki's legs gave out. He slid down the wall, his hands smoking, his breath coming in short gasps. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.

"You were supposed to prove me wrong," he whispered, his voice cracking. "You were supposed to keep getting back up, keep following me around with those stupid notebooks, keep... keep being fucking Deku!"

But the empty air where Deku should have landed mocked him. No body. No closure. Just... gone. Like a magic trick, except there was nothing magical about watching your childhood friend step off a roof because of words you'd said.

His mother's voice drifted up from downstairs, talking to his father: "...never seen anything like it. The police are baffled. People don't just disappear mid-fall..."

Katsuki's fist connected with the floor, leaving a scorched dent. "What kind of half-assed suicide was that, you nerd? Couldn't even do that right! Had to go and... and..."

The tears came then, hot and angry and unstoppable. Because this was his fault. His words. His bullying. His...

His phone buzzed again from where it lay cracked on the floor. A message from his mom:

"They're taking Inko to the hospital. I'm going with her. There's food in the fridge."

He stared at the message until the screen blurred. Auntie Inko, who'd always treated him like a second son. Who'd patched up his scrapes when he was little, right alongside Deku's. Who was now being rushed to the hospital because she'd had to watch her only son...

"DEKU!" The scream tore from his throat, raw and primal. His quirk responded to his emotions, setting off a chain of explosions that left his room looking like a war zone. "WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GO?!"

Because that was the question eating away at him. Not just the guilt, not just the horror of watching that footage, but the impossible mystery of it. People didn't just vanish. Bodies didn't just disappear.

Unless...

Unless Deku had somehow done the impossible one last time. Had somehow found a way to be special, to be different, even in this.

"Fucking nerd," Katsuki whispered, his voice hoarse from screaming. "Always had to be different. Couldn't even die normally."

He picked up his cracked phone, watching the footage one more time. Watched Deku step off that edge with a determination he'd never shown before. Watched him fall. Watched him vanish.

And somewhere, in the depths of his rage and guilt and confusion, a tiny spark of hope flickered. Because if there was no body... maybe that meant...

"You better not be dead, you useless nerd," he growled at the empty air. "Because if you are, I'll fucking kill you myself."

Day 4 - The Final Insult

Katsuki was trying to sleep when he heard his mother's voice rise from downstairs, sharp with fury.

"They WHAT?!"

He rolled over, intending to ignore whatever had set her off this time, but her next words froze him in place.

"Because he's QUIRKLESS? That's their excuse?" His mother's voice cracked with rage. "No, Inko, don't apologize. Don't you dare apologize. This is wrong. This is so fucking wrong!"

Katsuki found himself moving to his door, pressing his ear against it.

"Three days. Three fucking days, and they're just... giving up? Because quirked cases take priority?" His mother's pacing was audible even through the floor. "What about the footage? What about him vanishing into thin air? That's not enough of a mystery for them?"

Something shattered downstairs – probably one of his mom's coffee mugs. His father's softer voice tried to calm her, but she wasn't having it.

"No, Masaru! You don't understand! They told her – they actually told her to her face – that they 'can't justify allocating resources to a quirkless case when there are active quirk-related incidents requiring attention.' They're treating him like he's... like he's nothing!"

Katsuki's hands began to smoke, small explosions popping against his palms.

"What if it was Katsuki?" His mother's voice broke. "What if our boy was the one who disappeared? Would they give up after three days? Would they dismiss him as not worth the resources?"

The explosions grew larger, scorching the door.

"Of course they wouldn't," his mother continued, bitter laughter in her voice. "Because he has a quirk. Because he's 'valuable' to society. Because he's not... not..."

"Worthless."

Katsuki hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud until the word left his mouth. How many times had he called Deku that? Worthless. Useless. Nothing.

And now the whole fucking system was proving him right.

His quirk detonated, blasting his door off its hinges. The crash brought his parents running, but Katsuki was already moving, storming down the stairs in his sleep clothes, small explosions trailing in his wake.

"Katsuki!" his father called after him. "Where are you—"

"Out!" he snarled, slamming the front door hard enough to crack the frame.

The night air was cool against his skin as he ran, no destination in mind, just needing to move, to explode, to do something. His feet carried him to familiar places – the park where he and Deku used to play heroes, the convenience store where they'd buy All Might trading cards, the shortcut to school where Deku would always wait for him, notebook in hand...

"FUCK!" The explosion that burst from his hands lit up the night sky. "Is this what you wanted to hear, Deku? That I was right? That society thinks you're as worthless as I said you were?"

His chest heaved as he stood in the empty street, memories assaulting him from every direction.

"Did you jump because of me?" he whispered to the empty air. "Or did you jump because you knew? Knew that even if you disappeared, they'd only look for three fucking days before deciding you weren't worth the effort?"

Another explosion rocked the silence.

"WELL, FUCK THEM!" he roared into the night. "Fuck their priorities! Fuck their resources! Fuck their whole quirk-obsessed system!"

His phone buzzed in his pocket – probably his parents wondering where he'd gone. He ignored it, staring instead at the school building looming in the distance, at the roof where Deku had...

"You always wanted to be a hero, right?" His voice was raw now, barely above a whisper. "Always talking about saving people, helping people, being there for people who needed it."

His fists clenched, sparks dancing between his fingers.

"Well, who was there for you, huh? The heroes? The police? Society?" A bitter laugh escaped him. "Me?"

The sound of distant sirens drew his attention – probably another quirk-related incident that the system deemed more important than a missing quirkless kid.

"Dammit, Deku." He slumped against a lamppost, the fight draining out of him. "You should've just... should've proved them wrong. Proved me wrong. Should've become the first quirkless hero just to shove it in everyone's faces."

But Deku wasn't here to prove anyone wrong anymore. He was just... gone. Written off by the system as efficiently as he'd been written off by society his whole life.

And if Katsuki felt something break inside him at that thought, if his eyes burned with something that wasn't quirk-related, if his throat closed around words he should have said years ago...

Well, that was nobody's business but his own.

Because Bakugo Katsuki didn't care about Deku.

He didn't care at all.

(But maybe, just maybe, he was starting to care about what Deku's disappearance said about the world they lived in.)

Chapter Text

Consciousness returned to Izuku slowly, like waves lapping at the shore of his mind. His eyes fluttered open, struggling to focus in the unfamiliar room. The ceiling above him was wooden, gently swaying with a motion he couldn't quite place. A warm weight pressed against his chest – the small tiger cat still curled there, watching him with those intelligent amber eyes.

"How are you feeling, young man?" Garp's gruff but concerned voice came from beside him. "We lost you for a moment there."

"Oh... hi," Izuku managed weakly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry about that. This is... this is a lot to take in at the moment." His analytical mind was already racing, trying to process everything he'd learned. Different world. No Japan. Snails that worked as phones. His head spun with the implications.

The sound of hurried footsteps drew his attention to the door, where Koby appeared, holding something familiar in his hands. Izuku bolted upright, startling the tiger cat who gave him a sharp glare for the sudden movement.

"Sorry," he mumbled to the disgruntled feline before turning his attention to the pink-haired boy. His heart leaped – there in Koby's hands was his phone, the device looking strangely out of place in this wooden ship's interior.

"That's my phone," Izuku said, relief flooding through him. At least he had this one small connection to his world, this piece of home.

Koby looked at the device in his hand with curiosity. "Is this what you were looking for? We had it in our research room. We couldn't figure out what it was or how it works." He approached carefully, as if the strange device might bite him, and handed it back to Izuku.

The familiar weight of his phone in his hands was comforting. It was a small piece of home in this unfamiliar world. He wasn't sure if it was damaged from the fall into the ocean, but luckily, his phone model was water-resistant. He mentally crossed his fingers and pressed the power button, a flicker of hope rising as the screen began to glow. Relief washed over him as the battery icon displayed 90% – it was alive. This small connection to his old life made him feel a little less lost in this strange new reality.

"Thank you," Izuku said sincerely, clutching the device to his chest. His eyes began to water as the full weight of his situation crashed over him again. Here he was, in a world where his most basic assumptions about reality didn't apply, where even something as common as a phone was an alien curiosity.

The tiger cat pressed against his side, offering silent comfort as if sensing his distress. Garp and Koby exchanged glances, clearly concerned about their unusual guest's emotional state.

"Son," Garp said gently, leaning forward in his chair, "I know this must be overwhelming. But maybe if you tell us more about where you're from, we can help figure out how you got here. And more importantly, how to get you back home."

Nooding Izuku's fingers trembled slightly as he unlocked his phone, the familiar swipe pattern feeling surreal in this wooden-walled cabin. Garp, Koby, and Helmeppo leaned forward, their eyes widening at the screen's soft glow.

"It's like... a portable Den Den Mushi screen?" Koby whispered, fascination evident in his voice.

"Something like that," Izuku managed a small smile. "In my world, we call them smartphones. They can do a lot more than just communicate." He opened his photo gallery, his heart clenching at the first image – a selfie with his mom from just a week ago, both of them smiling at the camera outside their apartment.

"That's my mom," he said softly, his voice catching. "Inko Midoriya."

Garp's expression softened as he studied the image. "She has your smile, kid."

Izuku swiped to the next photo, showing the towering skyline of Musutafu. "This is where I'm from – Japan. Our cities are... different from what I've seen here." The gleaming skyscrapers and elevated train tracks drew gasps from his audience.

"Those buildings!" Helmeppo exclaimed. "They're almost as tall as the Red Line!"

"And look at those strange vehicles," Koby added, pointing to the cars visible on the streets below.

Izuku continued scrolling, each image opening another window into his world. A video clip of All Might's debut rescue played next, the booming "I AM HERE!" filling the cabin. All three marines stared in awe at the massive figure lifting a fallen bridge with seemingly impossible strength.

"That's All Might," Izuku explained, his voice a mixture of admiration and pain. "The greatest hero in our world. He saves everyone with a smile, making people feel safe just by being there." He paused, swallowing hard. "At least, that's what I always believed."

The next series of photos showed various heroes in action – Kamui Woods restraining villains with his wooden limbs, Mt. Lady growing to towering heights to stop a rampaging criminal, Present Mic using his voice to shatter concrete.

"These are... quirks?" Garp asked, his brow furrowed in concentration. "The powers you mentioned?"

"Yes, sir." Izuku's analytical side took over, his voice growing stronger as he explained. "About 80% of the world's population has them. Each person's quirk is unique – some are simple physical enhancements, others can manipulate elements or even bend reality itself."

He swiped to a folder labeled "UA Dreams" – photos he'd taken of the prestigious hero school's campus during his frequent walks past its gates. "This is UA High School. It's where I... where I wanted to go. To become a hero like them."

The three marines exchanged glances at the longing in his voice. Garp's expression grew thoughtful as he studied the imposing gates of UA.

"But you said you don't have one of these quirks?" Helmeppo asked, immediately receiving an elbow from Koby for his lack of tact.

"No," Izuku admitted quietly. "I'm part of the quirkless minority. In my world, that means..." He trailed off, but his audience could hear the unspoken words: worthless, helpless, dreams impossible.

Garp's massive hand landed on Izuku's shoulder, startling him. "Kid, let me tell you something about this world. Some of our strongest fighters – people who've shaped the very course of history – were born without any special powers, or even ate a devil fruit. They became strong through determination, training, and an unwavering spirit."

Izuku's eyes widened as Garp continued, "Take these two," he gestured to Koby and Helmeppo. "When they first joined the Marines, they could barely throw a punch. Now look at them – training to become true defenders of justice."

"It's true!" Koby added enthusiastically. "I was a complete coward when I started, but with training and determination—"

A series of loud snores interrupted him. The tiger cat, apparently bored with the conversation, had fallen asleep on Izuku's lap, its tiny paws twitching as it dreamed.

The tension broke as everyone chuckled at the cat's timing. Izuku found himself smiling too, even as he continued scrolling through his photos. Each image told a story – of a world he'd left behind, of dreams he'd thought impossible, of a life he'd been ready to end.

But here, in this strange new world with its wooden ships and snail phones, with a sleeping tiger cat on his lap and three marines looking at him not with pity but with understanding... maybe, just maybe, there was hope for a different kind of dream.

"Would you..." Izuku's voice was barely a whisper. "Would you teach me? How to be strong without a quirk?"

Garp's grin widened to near-impossible proportions. "Kid, by the time we're done with you, you'll make those heroes in your photos look like rookies."

And for the first time since arriving in this world, Izuku felt something he thought he'd lost forever: possibility.

The sea breeze hit Izuku's face like a gentle welcome as he followed Koby and Helmeppo onto the deck. His eyes widened, drinking in sights that seemed pulled straight from fantasy novels. The Marine base sprawled before him, a magnificent blend of military precision and architectural wonder that defied his understanding of physics.

"This is..." he breathed, fumbling for his phone with trembling hands. The device felt like a lifeline between worlds as he began capturing images of everything in sight.

A group of Marines marched past, led by what could only be described as a giant – a real giant, easily twenty feet tall, wearing a perfectly tailored Marine uniform. Izuku's finger jabbed the capture button repeatedly, his analytical mind already racing. "The structural requirements for buildings to accommodate varying sizes... the material strength needed for furniture... the logistics of uniform production..." he muttered, his old habit surfacing naturally.

"Oh no, he's doing it again," Helmeppo groaned, but there was an amused undertone to his voice.

"Doing what?" Koby asked, watching their new friend with fascination.

"The muttering thing! Like when he was explaining those 'quirks' from his world."

Izuku blushed, realizing he'd slipped into his analytical spiral. "Sorry! It's just... everything here is so amazing! The architectural engineering alone must be incredible to support beings of such varying sizes, and the cultural implications of different species coexisting in a military structure, and—" His hand twitched at his side. "I really wish I had a notebook..."

"Oh!" A young Marine woman with cropped blue hair, who had been passing by with an armful of documents, stopped short. "Did you say you need a notebook?" Without waiting for an answer, she shifted her papers to one arm and reached into her uniform pocket, producing a fresh notebook and pen. "Here! We always keep extras around for reports."

"Th-thank you!" Izuku accepted the items with a deep bow, his cheeks flushing pink at her kindness.

"No problem!" She waved cheerfully as she continued on her way.

Izuku clutched the notebook to his chest for a moment before opening it to its first clean page. The familiar action centered him, gave him purpose. At the top, he carefully wrote: "Analysis of the Grand Line World - Volume 1."

"Come on," Koby called, already heading toward a set of buildings near the water. "We'll show you where you'll be staying."

As they walked, Izuku's pen flew across the pages, documenting everything from the construction of the stone pathways to the curious mix of traditional and advanced technology he observed. The tiger cat trotted alongside them, occasionally glancing up at Izuku's furious note-taking with what seemed like amused tolerance.

They reached a long, low building near the training grounds. "These are the trainee bunkers," Helmeppo explained, pushing open a door to reveal a simple but clean room with two beds. "You'll be sharing with Koby. I'm next door with—"

He cut off as the tiger cat suddenly leaped up, landing gracefully on Izuku's mass of green curls and settling in like it belonged there.

"Um..." Izuku froze, not daring to move. "Is this normal?"

Koby and Helmeppo's jaws had dropped. "That's... that's impossible," Helmeppo stuttered.

"What do you mean?"

"That cat," Koby explained, still staring, "only ever listens to Vice Admiral Garp and some of the female officers. It doesn't even let most people touch it, let alone..." He gestured to where the feline was now contentedly kneading Izuku's hair.

Izuku glanced up, though he couldn't actually see the cat making itself at home on his head. "Really? But why would it...?" He reached up cautiously, and the tiger cat immediately bumped its head against his hand, purring loudly.

"I guess..." Izuku smiled softly, scratching behind the cat's ears, "I guess we're friends now?"

The cat's response was to roll its eyes dramatically – a surprisingly human gesture – before settling more firmly into its new green nest.

"Well," Helmeppo said, shaking his head in amazement, "looks like you've got yourself a training partner. That cat's seen more battles than most Marines."

Izuku's eyes lit up. His pen returned to the notebook immediately: "Tiger Cat Analysis - Fighting Style Observations Needed - Possible Combat Applications..."

As he wrote, the cat peered down at the page, its tail swishing with what might have been approval. Outside the window, the sun glinted off the waves of a vast ocean Izuku had never seen before, full of possibilities he'd never dared to dream of.

Here, in this world where giants walked alongside humans and cats chose their own companions, maybe being different wasn't a curse. Maybe being quirkless wasn't the end of his story.

Maybe it was just the beginning.

A knock at the door interrupted Izuku's furious note-taking about Marine base architecture. The tiger cat, still perched regally atop his green curls, lifted its head with interest as a tall, stern-looking man entered the room.

"Bogard, sir!" Koby and Helmeppo snapped to attention.

The man – Bogard – gave a slight nod to the two young Marines before turning his calculating gaze to Izuku. "I am Vice Admiral Garp's right hand. I'll be handling your sword training." His eyes flickered briefly to the cat lounging in Izuku's hair, and something like amusement crossed his stoic features. "Additionally, Garp-san would like to introduce you to some people. If you'll follow me."

Izuku scrambled to his feet, clutching his new notebook to his chest. "Y-yes, sir!" He waved a quick goodbye to his new friends as he hurried after Bogard's long strides.

They walked in silence through the winding corridors of the Marine base, Izuku's analytical mind cataloging every detail. The way Bogard moved – efficient, precise, not a single wasted motion. The subtle reactions of passing Marines – respect, perhaps a touch of fear. More data for his notebook.

Finally, they reached an imposing door. Bogard knocked once before opening it, revealing a spacious office where four figures waited.

Garp stood near the window, his usual grin replaced by an uncharacteristically serious expression. Beside him sat three individuals whose mere presence seemed to fill the room with authority.

"Midoriya-kun," Garp said, "I'd like you to meet some people."

The first to step forward was a man wearing circular glasses and a braided beard, his white coat adorned with epaulettes bearing seagull designs. "Fleet Admiral Sengoku," he introduced himself, his keen eyes studying Izuku with interest.

Next was an elderly woman, her sharp gaze reminding Izuku somehow of Recovery Girl. "Vice Admiral Tsuru," she said simply, but there was a gentleness beneath her stern exterior.

Finally, a powerfully built man with graying hair stepped forward. "Commander-in-Chief Kong," he stated, his voice carrying the weight of absolute authority.

Izuku bowed deeply, his heart hammering in his chest. "I-Izuku Midoriya! It's an honor to meet you all!"

"Please, have a seat," Kong gestured to an empty chair. As Izuku settled nervously into it, the tiger cat repositioned itself more comfortably in his hair, drawing a raised eyebrow from Tsuru.

"Garp has told us some... interesting things about you, young man," Kong continued. "About where you come from. But we'd like to hear it from you directly. And perhaps..." he gestured to the phone still clutched in Izuku's hand, "see some of this evidence of your world that Garp mentioned."

Izuku's hands trembled slightly as he unlocked his phone. This wasn't like showing Koby and Helmeppo – these were the highest-ranking officials in the Marines. His future in this world might depend on convincing them of his story.

But as he began to speak, to show them images of his world, he found an unexpected ally. The tiger cat's warm presence on his head, its gentle purring, helped steady his nerves. And more than that – he noticed how the others in the room seemed to take the cat's acceptance of him as some sort of positive sign.

The high-ranking Marines leaned forward with increasing interest as Izuku showed them his world. Sengoku's eyes narrowed thoughtfully at the footage of All Might's feats. Tsuru made contemplative noises at the explanations of hero society and quirk regulations. Kong's expression grew particularly intense when Izuku demonstrated his phone's various capabilities.

"Even Dr. Vegapunk has nothing quite like this," Garp muttered, watching Izuku pull up archived hero fight analyses.

"Speaking of analysis..." Tsuru spoke up, gesturing to the notebook in Izuku's lap. "I noticed you've already begun studying our world with the same... thoroughness you applied to your hero observations."

Izuku blushed. "I... I just find everything here so fascinating! The way different species coexist, the architectural adaptations, the military hierarchy, the fighting styles I've glimpsed..." He ducked his head. "Sorry, I tend to get carried away..."

"Don't apologize," Sengoku said firmly. "That kind of analytical mind is exactly what the Marines need more of."

The implications of that statement hung in the air. Izuku's heart skipped a beat as he realized what might be happening. These weren't just introductions – this was an evaluation.

"Tell me, young Midoriya," Kong leaned forward, his presence filling the room, "what do you want to do with yourself in this world?"

The question echoed in Izuku's mind, bringing with it memories of another time someone had asked about his dreams. But this time, there was no dismissal in their eyes. No pity. Just genuine interest in his answer.

The tiger cat's tail swished encouragingly against his neck as Izuku straightened his spine and met Kong's gaze directly.

"I want to help people," he said, his voice growing stronger with each word. "In my world, they said I couldn't be a hero without a quirk. But here..." His hand tightened around his notebook. "Here, maybe I can prove them wrong. Maybe I can show that analysis, strategy, and determination can be just as powerful as any quirk or Devil Fruit."

A smile – small but genuine – crossed Kong's face. "Well then, Midoriya-kun. I believe we have much to discuss about your future with the Marines."

The walk back to the barracks was a blur of excitement and nervous energy. Izuku's mind raced with everything that had just happened – meeting the highest-ranking officials in the Marines, sharing his story, and potentially having a path forward in this new world.

"So?" Koby practically bounced off his bunk when Izuku entered their shared room. "How did it go?"

Helmeppo tried to appear more casual, but his curiosity was just as evident. "Did they believe you about... you know, everything?"

Izuku collapsed onto his bed, the Kage gracefully hopping down to curl up beside him. "They did! And..." he sat up, eyes shining, "Vice Admiral Garp and Bogard-san are going to help train me!"

"That's amazing!" Koby exclaimed. "Though... maybe a bit terrifying. Garp-san's training methods are, um..."

"Insane," Helmeppo finished flatly. "The old man's completely bonkers."

Izuku laughed nervously, remembering Garp's enthusiastic mentions of throwing things. "Well, whatever it takes to get stronger, right? And they said I'll need lots of other lessons too – navigation, Marine protocols, history..."

The three spent the rest of the evening discussing what Izuku's training might entail, with Koby and Helmeppo sharing their own experiences and offering advice. Kage listened with what seemed like amused interest.

One Week Later

The same office that had hosted their first meeting now contained a spread of training schedules and curriculum plans. Izuku stood at attention, trying not to fidget as Garp, Bogard, Tsuru, and Sengoku finalized the details of his development program.

"The boy's physical conditioning needs to be our first priority," Garp declared, punching one fist into his palm. "Can't build advanced techniques on a weak foundation!"

Bogard nodded in agreement. "His sword training will begin with basic forms and stances. His analytical mind should help him grasp the principles quickly, but his body will need time to develop the necessary muscle memory."

"And between those sessions," Tsuru added, reviewing a sheet of paper, "we'll ensure he receives a thorough education in Marine operations, navigation, and tactical theory. Your detailed notes show promise, Midoriya-kun, but they need structure and context."

"We'll also need to establish a cover story," Sengoku reminded them. "As far as anyone outside this room is concerned, you're a promising recruit that Garp discovered during his travels. Nothing more."

Izuku absorbed it all, scribbling frantically in his notebook. The tiger cat, which hadn't left his side all week, watched the proceedings with those same knowing eyes.

"Thank you all," Izuku said earnestly. "I promise I won't let you down!"

Garp's booming laugh filled the room. "Save that enthusiasm for tomorrow morning, kid! We start at dawn – hope you're ready for some cannonball exercises!"

The color drained slightly from Izuku's face, but his determined expression didn't waver. This was his chance to prove himself, to become someone who could help others in this new world. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he would face them head-on.

As they left the office, Bogard held him back for a moment. "Remember," the stoic swordsman said quietly, "strength isn't just about physical power. Your greatest asset is this." He tapped Izuku's notebook. "Keep observing, keep analyzing. We'll help you transform that knowledge into action."

The tiger cat purred its agreement, and Izuku clutched his notebook tighter. Tomorrow, his real training would begin.

Chapter Text

Dawn broke over the Marine base, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold that Izuku had never seen in his world. He was already awake, sitting cross-legged on his bed with his notebook open, adding to his growing collection of observations. The tiger cat – which he'd started calling Kage after noticing how it could seemingly appear and disappear at will – dozed nearby.

A sharp knock at the door made him jump. "Time to begin, Midoriya-kun," Bogard's voice carried through the Carbin.

Koby, already dressed in his training gear, gave Izuku an encouraging smile. "Good luck! Bogard-san is strict, but he's an amazing teacher."

Izuku quickly changed into the training clothes he'd been provided – a simple white t-shirt with "MARINE" printed across it and navy blue pants. As he moved to leave, Kage stretched lazily and leaped onto his shoulder, apparently deciding to join the training session.

Outside, the marine base was already alive with activity. Training groups ran in formation, their boots thundering against the ground. The morning air carried the sounds of clashing wooden swords from the practice fields and the distant boom of cannon practice.

Bogard stood waiting in a small, enclosed courtyard, two wooden training swords held in his hands. His expression remained neutral as he assessed Izuku's stance.

"Before we begin," Bogard said, his voice carrying clearly in the morning air, "I need to understand your current capabilities. Show me how you would naturally take a fighting stance."

Izuku swallowed hard and shifted into the basic fighting position he'd studied countless times in hero videos. Kage jumped down from his shoulder, settling on a nearby wall to watch with apparent interest.

Bogard circled him slowly. "Interesting. Your form shows knowledge, but no practical experience. You've studied fighting extensively, haven't you?"

"Y-yes, sir!" Izuku nodded eagerly. "I used to analyze hero fights and their techniques, trying to understand different combat styles and—"

"Show me your notebooks."

Izuku blinked in surprise but quickly retrieved his Marines analysis notebooks from his bag. Bogard flipped through them with increasing interest, his eyebrows rising slightly at the detailed combat breakdowns and strategic analyses.

"Your observation skills are exceptional," Bogard finally said, handing the notebooks back. "But observation alone won't win fights. You need to bridge the gap between theory and practice." He tossed one of the wooden swords to Izuku, who barely managed to catch it. "Let's begin with the basics."

What followed was the most intense physical training Izuku had ever experienced. Bogard drilled him in basic stances, showing him how to hold the sword properly, how to move his feet, how to maintain his balance. Every time Izuku's form slipped even slightly, Bogard corrected it with precise instructions.

"Your greatest advantage," Bogard explained as he demonstrated a basic strike, "is your analytical mind. But it can also be your weakness. You think too much, hesitate too long. We need to train your body to react instinctively, to make those split-second decisions without conscious thought."

Hours passed like minutes. Sweat soaked through Izuku's shirt, his arms trembled from holding the wooden sword, but his eyes burned with determination. Each correction, each repetition, brought him one step closer to his goal.

Surprisingly, Kage participated in its own way, occasionally swatting at Izuku's feet when his stance was wrong or batting at his arms when they dropped too low. The cat's interventions often came seconds before Bogard would have made the same corrections.

"Interesting," Bogard murmured, watching the interaction. "It seems you have two teachers."

Finally, as the sun climbed higher in the sky, Bogard called a halt to the morning's training. "We'll continue this afternoon with stamina building exercises. For now, get some food and rest. And..." he paused, the ghost of a smile crossing his face, "keep taking notes. Your analytical skills will serve you well here, once we teach your body to keep up with your mind."

Izuku bowed deeply, his arms shaking from exertion. "Thank you, Bogard-sensei!"

As he straightened up, he caught sight of Garp watching from a nearby window, a broad grin on his face. The Vice Admiral gave him a thumbs up before disappearing back into his office.

Kage jumped back onto Izuku's shoulder as he headed toward the mess hall, his notebook already open as he recorded everything he'd learned. His muscles ached, his hands were covered in blisters, but for the first time in his life, he felt like he was moving forward instead of standing still.

In his world, they'd told him he couldn't be a hero without a quirk. But here, with a wooden sword in his hands and a Kage on his shoulder, maybe he could become something else entirely – something uniquely his own.

The price of training

Izuku lay there, face down in the dirt, evaluating his life choices, that’s when Koby and Helmeppo finally found him, he was sprawled face-down in a crater at the edge of the training grounds. Kage sat nearby, watching with what could only be described as exasperated amusement as its chosen human twitched occasionally to prove he was still alive.

"I told you," Helmeppo whispered, wiping away tears. "I told you the old man was completely bonkers!"

Koby sniffled, remembering his own first day of training. "Izuku-kun? Are you... still with us?"

A muffled groan emerged from the crater. "Did anyone get the number of that cannonball?"

"Which one?" Helmeppo asked, helping pull Izuku into a sitting position. "The first dozen or the last hundred?"

Izuku's normally wild hair was now singed at the edges, his training uniform torn and covered in dirt. His notebook, somehow still intact, had fresh pages filled with wobbly handwriting analyzing the trajectory patterns of hurled cannonballs and the physics behind Garp's throwing technique.

"The training started normally enough," Izuku mumbled, accepting a water bottle from Koby. "Basic warm-ups, some running... then Garp-san said 'Time for some light throwing practice!' and the next thing I knew..."

Earlier that morning

"DODGE!" Garp's enthusiastic voice boomed across the training field as another cannonball whistled through the air.

Izuku scrambled desperately to the side, his analytical mind working overtime. The projectile's arc suggests a launch velocity of approximately— WAIT, NO TIME FOR CALCULATIONS! He barely avoided the impact, only to hear the distinctive sound of Bogard unsheathing his practice sword behind him.

"Always be aware of multiple opponents," the stoic swordsman advised, before proceeding to demonstrate exactly why that was important.

"Good instincts!" Garp called out cheerfully, hefting another cannonball. "Now, try catching this one!"

"C-catching?!" Izuku squeaked, right before being introduced to his first crater of the day.

Present time

"And that was just the first hour," Izuku continued, wincing as he tried to move his shoulders. "After that came the 'real training.'"

Koby and Helmeppo shared a knowing look of sympathy. They'd been through Garp's idea of 'real training' themselves.

"Then Bogard-san decided to test my sword forms," Izuku gestured vaguely at several wooden training swords that lay splintered around the training ground. "He said my analytical approach was promising, but..."

"But you need about a thousand years more practice?" Helmeppo finished.

"Five thousand, actually." Izuku managed a weak laugh. "Though he did say my observational skills helped me pick up the basic stances quickly. Right before he demonstrated why stances alone aren't enough."

Kage chose this moment to saunter over and settle itself on Izuku's lap, purring soothingly. Despite his exhaustion, Izuku found himself automatically reaching for his notebook.

"The combination of Garp-san's throwing technique and Bogard-san's sword style creates an interesting training dynamic," he muttered, pen moving across the page. "The constant threat of aerial bombardment while maintaining proper sword form requires a unique balance of spatial awareness and—"

"He's analyzing it." Helmeppo stared in disbelief. "He's actually analyzing how they tortured him."

Koby shook his head, caught between admiration and concern. "That's our Izuku."

"Oh!" Izuku perked up slightly, flipping to a new page. "I also noticed something interesting about the way Garp-san channels his strength through his throwing arm. If I could just figure out the muscular coordination involved—"

"DINNER TIME!" Garp's voice thundered across the training ground, causing all three young Marines to jump. "Better hurry up, or I'll eat all the meat!"

Izuku attempted to stand, immediately regretted it, and flopped back down. Kage gave him a look that seemed to say, "Well, you wanted this."

"Don't worry," Koby said, helping Izuku to his feet while Helmeppo supported his other side. "The mess hall has some amazing healing properties. Though... maybe we should stop by the infirmary first?"

"No time for that!" Garp appeared behind them, causing another round of startled yelps. "Food first, healing later! Besides," he grinned at Izuku's battered form, "tomorrow we start the real training!"

As they half-carried, half-dragged Izuku toward the mess hall, Helmeppo leaned in close. "It's not too late to fake your death and become a farmer somewhere."

But despite his injuries, despite the insanity of the day's training, Izuku's eyes still burned with determination. His notebook was already filling with observations, strategies, and improvements to consider. This was his path now – no matter how many craters it took.

Kage trotted alongside them, its tail held high, as if proud of its human's resilience. Or maybe it was just looking forward to dinner too.

Three weeks into his training regimen, Izuku sat cross-legged in the base's library, surrounded by history books and official Marine documents. Kage dozed nearby, occasionally opening one eye to check on its human's progress.

"The Void Century..." Izuku muttered, pen moving rapidly across his notebook. "A hundred-year period of history that's completely forbidden to research. But why would—" He shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the approved historical texts instead.

His hand paused over a passage about the Celestial Dragons. Something in his gut twisted as he read about their... privileges. The way they could simply declare anyone their property, how they were considered above all law—

Kage's tail brushed against his arm, pulling him from that dangerous line of thought. "Right," he whispered. "Focus on the basics first."

He turned to his notes on Marine protocols and hierarchy, trying to ignore the nagging questions at the back of his mind. His notebook pages were filling up with observations, but also with carefully coded symbols in the margins – marking things that didn't quite add up, patterns that seemed... concerning.

"Midoriya-kun?"

Izuku jumped slightly, looking up to find Vice Admiral Tsuru watching him with those knowing eyes.

"Y-yes, ma'am!" He scrambled to stand, but she waved him back down.

"Your instructors tell me you're making excellent progress," she said, glancing at his notebooks. "Though they mention you ask... interesting questions."

Izuku felt his face heat up. "I'm sorry! I know I should focus more on the fundamental materials first, but sometimes I just notice things and—"

"It's good to question," Tsuru interrupted gently. "But it's also wise to know when to hold those questions close." Her gaze flickered meaningfully to his notebook, where he'd been developing his own cipher for certain observations. "Some knowledge requires... careful handling."

Kage lifted its head, meeting Tsuru's eyes in what seemed like silent communication. She nodded slightly before turning back to Izuku.

"Come with me," she said. "I believe it's time for a different kind of lesson."

She led him to a small, private study room, checking carefully before closing the door. "What I'm about to tell you isn't secret, exactly, but it requires... context. Understanding that comes with time and experience."

For the next hour, Tsuru explained the delicate balance of power in their world – the relationship between the Marines, the World Government, and the various other factions. She spoke of justice that sometimes had to bend to accommodate larger goals, of compromises made to maintain order.

"The world isn't as simple as heroes and villains," she said, reminding Izuku painfully of his own world's complexities. "Sometimes maintaining peace means working within an imperfect system, trying to change things gradually rather than breaking them entirely."

Izuku's pen moved frantically, recording everything in his increasingly complex shorthand. "But how do you know when to... when to accept something versus when to question it?"

Tsuru's expression softened slightly. "That, young Midoriya, is perhaps the most important lesson any Marine can learn. And it's one each of us must figure out for ourselves."

Kage, which had followed them to the study room, jumped onto the table between them. Its gaze seemed to carry centuries of wisdom as it looked from Tsuru to Izuku.

"Your analytical mind is a gift," Tsuru continued. "But it can also be dangerous – to yourself and others – if not tempered with wisdom. For now, focus on building your foundation. Learn everything you can. Observe. Record." She tapped his notebook. "But be careful about sharing those observations too freely."

Izuku nodded slowly, understanding the weight of what she wasn't saying directly. "Thank you, Vice Admiral. I'll... I'll try to be more discrete with my questions."

"Good." She stood to leave, then paused. "And Midoriya-kun? That cipher you're developing... it's quite clever. But you might want to add another layer to it."

After she left, Izuku stared at his notebooks with new eyes. He'd filled dozens of pages already, documenting everything from training techniques to Marine protocols to historical events. But now he began to see patterns in his own notes – questions and observations that might be better left... carefully coded.

Kage headbutted his hand gently, as if approving this more cautious approach.

"Right," Izuku muttered, pulling out a fresh notebook. "Time to develop a better system."

He spent the rest of the afternoon creating a more sophisticated cipher, one that would let him continue his analysis while protecting both himself and anyone who might read his notes. Kage watched with apparent interest as he worked out the complex system of symbols and cross-references.

Later that evening, as he walked back to the barracks with aching muscles from the day's physical training and a mind full of carefully organized questions, Izuku reflected on Tsuru's words. He'd come to this world hoping to be a hero, but maybe heroism here meant something different – something more complex than what he'd originally imagined.

"I guess I have a lot more to learn," he told Kage, who purred in what seemed like agreement. "But for now..."

He pulled out his training notebook – the one filled with observations about Garp's throwing techniques and Bogard's sword forms. These, at least, were straightforward problems he could work on solving. The bigger questions could wait until he was ready to handle their answers.

Still, as he drifted off to sleep that night, his dreams were filled with blank centuries and unanswered questions, while Kage kept its silent vigil, guarding both his rest and his growing collection of carefully coded notebooks.

10 months have passed since Izuku started his training with the Marines

Dawn painted the training grounds in soft golden light as three figures moved through their morning exercises. To any observer, it would have been clear these weren't the same awkward recruits from 10 months ago.

Koby's movements had gained precision, his once-hesitant strikes now flowing with growing confidence. Helmeppo's swordsmanship showed marked improvement, his dual-blade style becoming more refined with each passing day. And Izuku...

"Your footwork is improving," Bogard noted as he circled the green-haired youth. "Though your left guard is still dropping slightly when you transition between forms."

Izuku nodded, already analyzing the correction in his mind while maintaining his stance. Kage watched from its usual perch on a nearby training post, tail swishing in time with the practice swings.

"INCOMING!" Garp's cheerful warning sent all three young Marines scrambling in different directions as cannonballs rained from above.

"He's getting faster," Helmeppo muttered, narrowly avoiding one projectile.

"No," Koby replied, executing a neat roll under another. "We're just getting better at seeing them coming."

Izuku's notebook had documented their progress meticulously. While his natural aptitude for analysis gave him an edge in understanding techniques, his friends weren't far behind. Koby's determination and Helmeppo's pride drove them to match his pace, creating a friendly rivalry that pushed all three to improve.

"The difference in our learning curves is fascinating," Izuku had noted one evening, showing his friends the detailed graphs he'd made. "Koby-kun, your reaction speed has increased by 47% since we started, while Helmeppo-kun's precision with dual wielding has shown a 52% improvement. My own progress shows similar percentages, just distributed differently across various skills."

"Only you would graph our training progress," Helmeppo had laughed, but he'd looked pleased at the numbers all the same.

Now, as they moved through their morning routine, those improvements were clearly visible. When Garp finally called a halt to the cannonball practice, all three remained standing – battered and breathing hard, but standing nonetheless.

"Not bad!" Garp grinned, hefting another cannonball. "Maybe tomorrow we'll try the explosive ones!"

"The what?!" all three yelped in unison.

But before Garp could elaborate on this terrifying new training method, a messenger arrived with summons for their academic lessons. Kage, sensing Izuku's relief, gave an amused mrrow as it fell into step beside him.

In the classroom, their different strengths became more apparent. While all three absorbed the tactical and practical knowledge eagerly, Izuku's notebooks filled up noticeably faster. His questions drove discussions deeper, often leading to impromptu advanced lessons.

"It's not that you're smarter," Koby had insisted one day, seeing Izuku's concern about advancing faster. "You just... see patterns quicker. But then you explain them to us, and we all learn together."

It was true. The three had developed a study system that played to their individual strengths. Izuku's analytical breakdowns made complex concepts clearer, Koby's practical experience helped ground theoretical knowledge in reality, and Helmeppo's surprisingly strategic mind often found applications they hadn't considered.

"Like a well-balanced squad," their combat instructor had noted approvingly.

Even their physical training showed this dynamic. While Izuku might grasp the theory of a technique first, Koby often mastered the practical application more quickly, with Helmeppo finding creative ways to adapt moves to his unique style.

"Your progress is remarkable," Tsuru commented one afternoon, reviewing their latest assessments. "All three of you." Her knowing gaze lingered on Izuku's newest notebook – the one with the enhanced cipher he'd developed. "Though some of you might be learning more than just the official curriculum."

Izuku ducked his head, but didn't deny it. His questions about this world's darker aspects hadn't disappeared, but he'd learned to balance his curiosity with discretion. Kage's presence seemed to help, somehow knowing when to distract him from dangerous lines of inquiry and when to let him pursue his investigations.

"Knowledge is like muscle," Bogard had told them during a rare philosophical moment. "It grows stronger with proper training, but push too hard too fast, and you risk injury."

So Izuku kept his more problematic observations carefully coded, focusing instead on immediate challenges. Like how to dodge Garp's increasingly creative projectiles while maintaining proper sword form. Or why Kage seemed to know exactly when to trip him during spars, inevitably saving him from a worse hit he hadn't seen coming.

"I think," Koby said one evening, as they nursed their newest collection of bruises, "we're actually getting stronger."

"We better be," Helmeppo groaned, applying ice to a spectacular welt. "Otherwise all this torture is for nothing."

Izuku smiled, adding another page to his training analysis. "According to my calculations, our overall combat effectiveness has increased by approximately 63% since we started. Though Garp-san's methods still seem to be about 89% chaos and 11% actual technique..."

Kage batted playfully at his pen, as if suggesting some things weren't meant to be quantified.

"You know what's really impressive?" Koby grinned. "We haven't had to carry you back from training in weeks, Izuku!"

"Though you still end up in just as many craters," Helmeppo added.

"But I'm getting better at climbing out of them!" Izuku protested, earning laughs from his friends.

As they settled into their bunks that night, Izuku reflected on their progress. While his analytical mind might help him learn techniques faster, it was the shared experience with his friends that truly made him stronger. Every bruise, every victory, every late-night study session – they were growing together, each at their own pace but none truly outpacing the others.

Kage curled up beside him, purring contentedly, as if approving of this understanding. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new techniques to master, and probably new craters to climb out of. But facing it all alongside Koby and Helmeppo made even Garp's craziest training methods seem manageable.

Well, almost manageable. Those explosive cannonballs still sounded terrifying.

One Year and 6 months later

The promotion ceremony had been brief but meaningful. Izuku adjusted the new warrant officer insignia on his uniform, still getting used to the weight of increased responsibility. Beside him, Koby proudly wore his master chief petty officer rank, while Helmeppo carried himself with new confidence as a chief petty officer.

"Your analytical abilities have proven invaluable," Vice Admiral Tsuru had noted during the ceremony. "All three of you have exceeded expectations." After the celebration of their accomplishments, they were informed of their first mission: to apprehend Straw Hat Luffy and his crew.

Garp's ship docked at the Marine port of entry. He'd been given orders to apprehend Luffy and his crew. Izuku and the rest of Garp's men disembarked, making their way to the building where the Straw Hats were staying and recovering after rescuing Nico Robin. Garp approached the building, his actions puzzling everyone, including Izuku. He wound up his fist and punched a hole through the wall, then proceeded to swiftly blitz pass two of Luffy's crew before punching Luffy himself in the head, yelling, "Wake up!"

Luffy yelped in pain, one of his crew expressing disbelief that a punch could hurt their rubber-bodied captain. Garp, looking proud, declared, "You can't stop the Fist of Love!" Luffy, looking up at Garp, cried out, "G-Grandpa!" The revelation shocked everyone present. Luffy then warned his crew, "Don't fight him, or you'll end up dead!" The commotion at Water 7 drew everyone's attention as Roronoa Zoro cut his way through the Marine ranks with terrifying efficiency. Izuku's analytical mind was already racing, documenting every movement of the infamous pirate hunter turned pirate.

"Zoro! Stop fighting them!" Luffy's voice rang out across the chaos, though he seemed more amused than concerned.

Garp watched the scene unfold with an expression that mixed pride and exasperation. "Koby! Helmeppo! Show me how much you've grown – try to stop them!"

Izuku and the other Marines watched with a mix of worry and fascination as his friends engaged the infamous pirates. Kage perched on Izuku's shoulder, tail twitching with interest as the brief skirmish played out.

It was over in moments. Both Koby and Helmeppo found themselves thoroughly defeated, though neither seemed particularly discouraged. If anything, Koby was grinning as Luffy pinned him down.

"It's great to see you again, Luffy-san, Zoro-san!" Koby laughed from his position on the ground. "Looks like we're still no match for you!"

Luffy's face scrunched up in confusion as he stared at the young Marine. Zoro looked equally puzzled until realization slowly dawned on their faces.

"Koby?" Luffy's eyes widened comically. "EHHHH?! But the Koby I remember was short and round! You've grown up!"

"Yes!" Koby beamed, clearly delighted that his old friend recognized him.

Helmeppo stepped forward expectantly. "Do you remember me too?"

"Nope!" Luffy and Zoro answered in unison, causing Helmeppo to deflate dramatically. Koby patted his friend's back consolingly.

"Ah! Let me introduce you to our friend," Koby said, gesturing to Izuku. "This is Warrant Officer Izuku Midoriya. He's been training with us under Garp-san!"

Izuku bowed slightly, his notebook already in hand. "It's an honor to meet you both! Your fighting styles are fascinating – the way you combine rubber-based physics with combat applications, and Zoro-san's unique three-sword style—"

"He's interesting!" Luffy declared with his characteristic laugh, immediately taking a liking to Izuku's earnest enthusiasm.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of Marines complaining as they worked to repair the wall Garp had broken during his "cool entrance."

"Vice Admiral Garp! You should help fix this!"

"Eh? Why should I?" Garp crossed his arms stubbornly.

"BECAUSE YOU'RE THE ONE WHO BROKE IT!" the Marines shouted in unified exasperation.

"Oh, fine," Garp grumbled, before turning to Luffy with an unusually serious expression. "By the way, I heard you met your old man in Loguetown?"

"Huh? My father?" Luffy tilted his head in confusion. I have a father?

"Yes, hes a Revolutionary his name is Monkey D. Dragon "

The silence that followed was deafening. Izuku's pen practically flew across his notebook, documenting not just the shocking revelation but everyone's reactions to it. The tiger cat's tail puffed up in surprise as marines all around them gasped and muttered in shock.

The most wanted man in the world... Garp-san's son... Luffy-san's father... Izuku's mind raced with the implications, his cipher-filled notebook acquiring several new pages of carefully coded observations.

The only one who seemed unaffected by the earth-shattering news was Luffy himself, who was just as confuse, "who is this guy?"

Luffy, bewildered by his crew's shocked reactions, turned to Nico Robin for an explanation about his father. Robin provided a concise summary of Dragon's identity and influence. Just as the weight of this revelation settled, Garp, in a characteristically unpredictable move, abruptly exclaimed, "Oh, you know what? Never mind! Forget everything I said!" The sudden reversal, especially after such a significant disclosure, did not go over well. The Garp crew, already reeling from the initial news, reacted with even greater astonishment to this unexpected turn of events.

Garp gave the boys the go-ahead to spend time with Luffy and Zoro. Izuku watched as Koby explained all the training adventures they'd been on. But as much as catching up was fun, all things have to come to an end.

Garp informed Luffy that he wouldn't capture him, but he had until dawn to leave; otherwise, his crew would be hunted down. Luffy's casual "okay" irritated Garp enough to punch him again, stating, "We haven't seen each other in so long, and this is how you act toward your loving grandpa?" "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Luffy yelled back apologies.

Then, both fell asleep standing up. Garp woke up first and punched Luffy for falling asleep while being scolded by his grandfather.

All of this happened while Kage watched from atop a nearby wall, observing the strange reunion with detached curiosity.

Izuku's notebook was still open, documenting every detail. The next morning, Luffy and his crew set sail, and the Garp crew gave chase, saying, "Sorry, Garp said, but we're going to have to sink your ship!" as Garp attacked the Straw Hat crew with baseball pitch cannonballs. The Straw Hats managed to escape by blasting into the sky on the new ship they got from Franky, the shipwright in water 7.

Izuku can only look on in amazement at what has transpire and quickly drew the Straw Hats ship in his notebook. Izuku mind is racing with lots of questions of justice and a pirate who wants true freedom.

The evening sea breeze carried the lingering scent of gunpowder as Izuku sat in his quarters aboard Garp's ship. Kage lounged on his desk, watching as he spread out an array of newspaper clippings, wanted posters, and his own detailed notes about the Straw Hat Pirates.

"It just doesn't align," he muttered, green eyes scanning the evidence before him. His analytical mind, honed by nearly year and a half of Marine training, couldn't reconcile the official narrative with what he'd witnessed and researched.

The first article detailed the liberation of Cocoyasi Village: "Marine Captain Nezumi Reports: Straw Hat Pirates Defeat Arlong." Izuku's careful notes in the margins highlighted the inconsistencies in the official report – how it glossed over Arlong's eight-year reign of terror, the apparent corruption of the local Marine branch, and most importantly, the fact that the Straw Hats had freed an entire island from tyranny.

"Their navigator, Nami," he wrote in his coded shorthand, "returned to her hometown not as a pirate seeking plunder, but as a daughter determined to free her people. The crew fought not for treasure, but for their friend's smile."

The next clipping described the fall of Wapol in Drum Kingdom. The official report painted it as pirates causing chaos in a sovereign nation, but Izuku's investigations had revealed a different story. His notes detailed how Wapol had abandoned his people, hoarded medical resources, and ruled through fear. The Straw Hats hadn't just defeated him – they'd helped restore a doctor who treated everyone, regardless of status or wealth.

"They literally carried their sick friend up a mountain in the middle of a blizzard," Izuku noted, remembering Koby's retelling of the stories he'd heard. "Pirates aren't supposed to risk their lives to find medical care for others..."

The most substantial evidence lay in the reports from Alabasta. Multiple newspapers covered the fall of Crocodile, one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea. The official story credited the Marines, but Izuku's careful investigation had uncovered the truth: the Straw Hats had exposed Crocodile's manipulation of an entire kingdom, saved Princess Vivi, and prevented a civil war that would have killed millions.

"They didn't just defeat Crocodile," Izuku wrote, his pen moving swiftly in his increasingly complex cipher. "They protected a kingdom while asking nothing in return. No territory, no tribute, not even recognition for their actions."

Kage's tail brushed against his arm as he reached for the most recent reports from Water 7.

"They declared war on the World Government itself," he noted, "not for power or territory, but to save one person. To tell someone who had lost all hope that her life had value, that she deserved to live."

His pen hovered over a fresh page as he considered the actions of heroes he had studied. Weren't the Straw Hats, in their own way, acting like heroes time and time again?

Kage moved to sit directly on his notes, as if warning him to be careful with such dangerous thoughts. Izuku scratched behind its ears absently while reaching for his most secure notebook – the one with his highest-level cipher.

"The fundamental question," he wrote carefully, "isn't whether they're criminals according to the law. The question is: what does it mean to be just in a world where helping others can be labeled as a crime?"

Luffy's simple, direct approach to right and wrong resonated with him. The rubber-man didn't seem to care about laws or regulations – he simply acted when he saw people suffering. It reminded Izuku of similar impulses from his past; a deep-seated instinct to help those in need, regardless of personal risk.

"Perhaps," he continued writing, his cipher growing more complex with each potentially seditious thought, "true justice isn't found in blind obedience to laws, but in the courage to help others regardless of the consequences."

Kage stretched lazily, providing a perfect excuse for why he might be sitting alone in his quarters – everyone knew about his habit of documenting the mysterious creature's behaviors.

When Koby poked his head in, Izuku had already shifted to his "official" analysis notebook. "Still working on your reports?"

"Just reviewing some case studies," Izuku replied carefully. "The Straw Hats' tactical approaches are fascinating from an analytical perspective."

Koby's expression suggested he understood the deeper implications. "You know," he said quietly, closing the door behind him, "I've been thinking about something Luffy-san told me when we first met. He said that being a pirate meant being the freest person in the world."

"Freedom to help others without being bound by regulations?" Izuku suggested, his analytical mind already connecting this to his earlier thoughts.

"Maybe." Koby sat on the edge of the bunk. "But I think there's more to it. The Marines stand for justice, but justice isn't always as simple as following orders."

Kage moved to sit between them, its presence somehow making the conversation feel safer.

"Look at their pattern of actions," he said, pointing to his carefully organized timeline. "Wherever the Straw Hats go, they end up helping people who have been failed by the system. Villagers oppressed by corrupt officials, kingdoms manipulated by Warlords, individuals branded as criminals for knowing too much..."

"Like Robin-san," Koby nodded. "The government called her a demon, but Luffy-san saw someone who needed help."

Izuku's pen moved across the page again, adding new observations. "It's like they're exposing gaps in the system – places where official justice falls short. But instead of just documenting these failures, they actively work to fix them."

"Even if it means being labeled as criminals themselves," Koby added softly.

The implications hung heavy in the air between them. Both young Marines had sworn to uphold justice, but their experiences were forcing them to question what justice truly meant.

"I've been developing a theory," Izuku said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "What if some people choose to be pirates not because they reject justice, but because they see it as the only way to pursue a higher form of justice? One that isn't constrained by..."

He trailed off, but Koby understood. They both thought of Tsuru's lessons about the delicate balance of power, about compromises made to maintain order.

"It's like what Vice Admiral Tsuru told us," Koby mused. "About working within the system to change things gradually. But some problems can't wait for gradual change. Some people need help now."

Kage purred loudly, as if approving of their careful analysis.

"We should be careful with these observations," Koby warned, though his expression showed he agreed with the analysis.

Izuku nodded, closing his notebook. "Of course. But understanding their motivations and methods could make us better Marines. If we can identify where the system fails people, maybe we can work to fix those gaps from within."

"While being very, very careful about how we document such observations," Koby added with a slight smile, gesturing to Izuku's elaborate cipher.

Kage moved between them, offering its mysterious comfort to both young Marines wrestling with difficult questions.

Finally, Izuku opened his notebook one last time, adding a final observation in his most secure cipher: "The greatest challenge for those who serve justice is not in fighting obvious evil, but in recognizing when justice itself needs to be questioned. The Straw Hat Pirates, through their actions, force us to confront this uncomfortable truth. Perhaps that is their most important contribution to our world – not the battles they win, but the questions they force us to ask."

Kage batted playfully at his pen, as if suggesting he'd written enough dangerous thoughts for one evening.

"Whatever else they may be," he told Koby, "the Straw Hats make our world more interesting to analyze."

"Just don't let Garp-san hear you analyzing his grandson's crew too sympathetically," Koby laughed, standing to leave. "He might decide we need special training to correct our thinking."

Izuku winced at the thought of what Garp's "special training" might entail. "Right. Purely tactical analysis from now on. Nothing philosophical about the nature of justice at all."

But as he prepared for bed that night, his mind still raced with observations and questions. Kage curled up beside him, its presence a reminder that some mysteries in their world defied simple classification. Just like the Straw Hat Pirates themselves – too complex to be labeled as mere criminals, too important to be dismissed as simple outlaws.

His last thought before drifting off was that perhaps the most valuable lesson he'd learned since coming to this world was that true justice, like truth itself, rarely fit into neat categories. Sometimes it wore a Marine uniform, sometimes it flew a pirate flag, and sometimes it simply did what was right, regardless of the consequences. Kage's soft purring seemed to agree.

Chapter Text

The morning sun cast long shadows across Aldera Junior High's empty classroom 3-A. A layer of dust had settled on one particular desk - Midoriya's desk. Though ten months had passed, no one had claimed it, as if the space itself remembered the quiet boy who once filled it with muttered analysis and hero notes.

Outside, cherry blossoms drifted on the spring breeze, marking the season of new beginnings. But for Inko Midoriya, time had frozen on that day her son vanished. Dark circles rimmed her eyes as she stood on another street corner, fresh missing person flyers clutched in trembling hands.

"Please," she whispered, bowing deeply to passing pedestrians. "Have you seen my son?"

Most hurried past, averting their eyes from her grief. Some took the flyers out of pity, only to discard them in the next trash bin. A few kind souls would stop, examine the photo of the freckled, green-haired boy, and promise to keep looking. But after ten months, even their sympathy held an edge of resignation.

Mitsuki Bakugo watched from across the street, her heart breaking for her oldest friend. She'd spent countless hours helping search, making calls, pressuring police to keep investigating. But with each passing day, hope grew thinner, like a candle burning down to its last flicker.

"Katsuki!" she called out as her son emerged from their house, his U.A. participation waver form clutched in one hand. "Make sure you eat properly before-"

"Yeah, yeah," he cut her off, adjusting his school bag. But his crimson eyes lingered on Inko's small figure across the street, something unreadable flickering across his face.

The route to U.A. took him past Midoriya's empty house. Its dark windows stared back at him like accusing eyes. Deku's room would've been lit since dawn, he thought unbidden. Probably muttering about the exam and hero statistics...

He shoved the thought aside, his pace quickening. What did it matter what that quirkless nobody would've been doing? He had his own destiny to seize.

But as he passed the house, his steps slowed just enough to notice the fresh missing person flyer taped to the gate. The photo showed Izuku's nervous smile, those determined green eyes that had always watched him, analyzing his quirk, admiring his strength...

"Tch." Katsuki turned away sharply, his palm sparking with small explosions. "Useless Deku... making your mom cry like this..."

He didn't acknowledge the slight tremor in his voice, or the way his eyes burned as he resumed his march toward U.A. He had a practical exam to ace, after all. No time to waste thinking about missing nobodies who couldn't even manifest a quirk.

Behind him, the morning breeze rustled the flyer, making it dance like a lonely flag in the wind. Inko Midoriya's voice could still be heard somewhere in the distance, asking strangers if they'd seen her son.

The world had moved on, as worlds tend to do. But in the spaces where Midoriya Izuku should have been - his empty desk, his dark room, his mother's breaking heart - absence echoed like a cry that no one could answer.

The U.A. practical exam had gone exactly as Katsuki expected – mostly. His explosions tore through robot after robot, each destroyed target feeding his certainty that he'd claim the top spot. No one else's quirk could match his raw power and combat instinct.

Villain points racked up with each devastating blast. 45... 50... 63 points. He lost count after that, too focused on proving his superiority. The other examinees scattered before his fury, wisely staying clear of his destructive path.

He came in first place with a score of 77. Three weeks later, when the results arrived, his confidence was absolute. First place, as expected.

"77?" he scoffed. "Should've been higher. These extras are slowing me down."

A flicker of a memory crossed his mind: Deku, muttering about hero rankings and quirk analysis... always trying to understand how to be better, even without a quirk...

Katsuki blasted the thought away with an explosion that left scorch marks on his bedroom wall.

The first day of class brought fresh irritations. That glasses-wearing robot, lecturing about proper behavior. Coming in third place in the quirk apprehension test, behind that damn ponytail and her bullshit quirk and that second-place, half-and-half bastard, pissed him off. None of them – not the glasses-wearing robot, not the half-and-half bastard, not even that round-faced girl with all her rescue points – looked at him with fear, with the proper respect for his power.

It wasn't like Aldera Junior High, where his word had been law. Here, his explosive temper earned only disappointed looks from teachers and wary distance from classmates. Even that scruffy homeroom teacher, Aizawa, seemed to watch him with particular scrutiny.

The second day of school battle training with All Might should have been his chance to prove himself. Paired against the half-and-half bastard, Katsuki prepared to show everyone what real power looked like. But before he could even launch his first attack, the entire building froze solid. No warning, no chance to counter – just instant, overwhelming defeat.

"You relied too much on raw power," All Might had said afterward, his eternal smile somehow making the criticism worse. "A true hero must consider strategy, teamwork, and the safety of others."

"Kacchan! Your quirk is so amazing! But maybe if you varied the timing of your explosions, you could..."

Katsuki growled, shaking away another unwanted memory of Deku's endless analysis. The nerd had always tried to suggest "improvements" to his technique, as if a quirkless nobody had any right to critique him.

The bus ride to the USJ facility was mostly silent, Katsuki brooding in the back, headphones blasting music to drown out the chatter of his classmates. He glanced out the window occasionally, the passing cityscape a blur of buildings and billboards. A flicker of a memory – Deku, excitedly pointing out hero agencies and analyzing billboard quirk usage – was quickly blasted away with an irritated scoff. He had better things to focus on than useless Deku.

Inside the USJ, the vast dome loomed overhead, various disaster zones laid out like a hero's playground. Thirteen, the rescue hero, stood at the center, their spacesuit gleaming under the artificial sun.

"Today's lesson," Thirteen began, their voice amplified by the helmet speakers, "is about using your quirks to save lives. Remember, even the most powerful quirks can be incredibly dangerous if not controlled properly. A single misplaced blast, a moment of carelessness, could have devastating consequences." Katsuki rolled his eyes. He didn't need a lecture on the destructive potential of quirks. He knew his power better than anyone.

Thirteen continued, gesturing to the various simulated disaster zones, "I'll be demonstrating how to approach different rescue scenarios, how to prioritize safety, and how to effectively utilize your quirks for aid, not destruction."

Before Thirteen could continue, a swirling vortex of black and purple mist appeared in the center of the plaza. The air crackled with an unnatural energy, and a chill ran through the facility. From the mist, shadowy figures began to emerge, their eyes gleaming with malicious intent.

All hell broke loose.

The black mist spread like spilled ink across the USJ's central plaza. Villains poured out in waves, their killing intent palpable. At the center of it all stood a figure that made even Katsuki's combat-hungry instincts scream danger – a towering monster of exposed muscle and dead eyes, its brain visible through cracked skull.

"Where is All Might?" The hand-covered villain scratched his neck irritably. "I brought all these people to have some fun with him... and he's not even here?"

"Thirteen, get the students out of here! Now!"

"But what about you?" Thirteen called back, herding the remaining students toward the exit.

"I'll handle this." Aizawa's hair rose as his quirk activated, his eyes glowing red behind his goggles. "It's not ideal, but I can hold them off."

The villain's scratching intensified. "Not here... not here... you're lying! He has to be here!" His voice rose to a manic pitch. "Maybe if we kill some kids, the Symbol of Peace will show up?"

But before they could retreat, the black mist materialized into a humanoid form, blocking their escape. "Greetings. We are the League of Villains. Today, we've come to U.A. High School—this bastion of heroism—to end the life of All Might."

Katsuki's palms crackled with barely contained explosions. This... this was what he'd been waiting for. A chance to prove himself against real villains, not just training robots.

"DIE!" he launched himself forward alongside Kirishima, their combined attack passing harmlessly through the mist-villain's body. "My, my... that's dangerous," the villain's yellow eyes narrowed. "You may be students, but you are still excellent golden eggs."

The mist expanded, enveloping the students in darkness. Katsuki felt himself falling, the world twisting around him. The void spat him out into the collapse zone, dropping him among broken concrete and twisted metal. Perfect. Let the villains come. He'd show everyone what real power looked like.

"COME AT ME!" he roared, explosions lighting up the darkness. A group of villains emerged from the shadows, their quirks at the ready. Katsuki didn't waste time studying their abilities or planning his approach. He didn't need strategy – he had raw power.

His explosions tore through the collapse zone, each blast more devastating than the last. Villains flew backwards from the force of his attacks, concrete barriers shattered, metal support beams twisted and warped from the heat.

"Watch it, Bakugo!" Kirishima called out as he dodged both a villain's attack and the debris from Katsuki's latest explosion. "You're gonna bring the whole place down!"

"Shut up and fight, Hair-for-Brains!" Katsuki snarled, launching himself at another group of villains. His palms sparked and crackled, the familiar rush of combat flooding his veins. This was what he was meant for – pure, overwhelming force.

A concrete-manipulator tried to trap him, but Katsuki just blasted through the barriers with raw power. When a villain with some kind of phasing quirk appeared, Katsuki's response was a barrage of explosions that left no room for escape.

"Is this all you've got?" he taunted, standing amid the destruction he'd caused. "You extras thought you could take on U.A.? I'll show you what real power looks like!"

The villains kept coming, and Katsuki kept fighting, his style growing more aggressive with each passing minute. He didn't need analysis. He didn't need strategy. All he needed was his quirk and his unstoppable drive to win.

Kirishima, protected by his hardening quirk, managed to weather both the villains' attacks and the collateral damage from Katsuki's rampage. "Dude, maybe we should—"

"JUST DIE!" Katsuki cut him off with another explosive assault, his attacks growing wilder, more destructive. The collapse zone was living up to its name, sections of the facility crumbling under the force of his quirk.

But Katsuki didn't care. Let it all fall. He'd prove to everyone – these pathetic villains, his doubting classmates, All Might himself – that raw power was all that mattered in the end.

The villains never stood a chance against his relentless assault. When the dust finally settled, Katsuki stood triumphant among the unconscious bodies and demolished infrastructure, his uniform singed and torn but his pride intact.

"That's how you deal with villains," he spat, ignoring Kirishima's concerned look. "Pure force. Nothing else matters."

From their hiding spot in the shallow water, Tsuyu and Mineta watched in horror as Aizawa faced off against the villains. Their teacher moved with practiced efficiency, his capture weapon whipping through the air as he systematically took down opponent after opponent.

Aizawa's hair rose as his quirk activated, his eyes glowing red behind his goggles. The hand-villain charged forward, but Aizawa's capture weapon intercepted him. They exchanged blows, moving with deadly precision.

"You're so cool, Eraserhead," the villain rasped. "But you're not suited for long fights, are you? Your hair keeps falling... and every time it does..." He grabbed Aizawa's elbow, and the fabric of his costume began to disintegrate. "Your quirk has to reset."

Aizawa leaped back, but the damage was done. His elbow had been reduced to raw flesh where the villain's fingers had touched.

"That quirk of yours..." Aizawa's eyes narrowed behind his goggles. "You have to touch things with all five fingers."

The villain's scratching grew more frenzied. "You really are so cool... Eraserhead."

Suddenly, the villain's attention snapped to the water where Tsuyu and Mineta were hiding. He lunged forward, hand outstretched toward Tsuyu's face. Time seemed to slow as those deadly fingers descended—

At the last possible moment, Aizawa's hair rose again, his quirk canceling the villain's power just before it could touch Tsuyu. The hand-villain's fingers stopped mere inches from her face.

"You really are so cool..." the villain repeated, before signaling behind him. "Nomu."

The monster moved with impossible speed, appearing before Aizawa could react. Its massive fist slammed their teacher into the ground with devastating force. Blood pooled around Aizawa's prone form as the villain turned back toward the students with renewed killing intent.

That's when Kirishima burst onto the scene, his hardened form aiming straight for the hand-villain. But before his attack could connect, Nomu appeared between them, its dead eyes fixed on this new target.

Chapter Text

Garp, please let me come with you to save Koby!" Izuku's voice carried the weight of years of friendship.

The legendary marine's laugh boomed across the dock, followed by a heavy pat on Izuku's back that would have sent most people flying. "Don't worry about Koby! I'll take care of saving him." Garp's expression grew serious. "Thanks to Vegapunk, you finally have a way home. You don't want to miss your one and only chance to see your mother, do you?"

Izuku flinched at the mention of his mom. After all these years, the thought of her still brought a mix of hope and guilt.

"I know, but..." Izuku's hands clenched at his sides. "I feel like I'm abandoning one of my best friends. I won't even get to say goodbye to him."

"Don't worry so much!" Garp's grin returned. "I know if Koby was here, he'd say the same thing himself!"

The crew gathered around, tears in their eyes as they prepared to bid farewell to one of their own. Izuku looked at each face, memorizing them one last time.

"Everyone... thank you for everything."

The portal crackled to life behind him, black and red energy swirling with otherworldly power. With one last look at the family he'd found in this strange world, Izuku stepped through.

Back at The USJ's central plaza erupted with strange energy as a tear in reality formed. Black and red lightning struck the ground as the portal stabilized, drawing everyone's attention away from the battle.

"Kurogiri," Shigaraki scratched his neck nervously, "is this your doing?"

"No, Shigaraki-sama," the mist villain replied, yellow eyes fixed on the anomaly. "This is... something else entirely."

The energy pulses intensified, and through the portal stepped a figure that made everyone pause. He wore what appeared to be a military uniform, but it was his appearance that drew attention – wild green hair, diamond-shaped freckles on each cheek, and most bizarrely, what appeared to be a tiger-cat lounging contentedly atop his head.

But it was the aura he gave off that truly commanded attention. This wasn't just some random intruder – this was someone who radiated an unmistakable presence, the kind that warned: don't mess with me.

The mysterious figure surveyed the scene before him, his eyes taking in every detail with analytical precision. The tiger-cat's tail swished lazily, as if this was all perfectly normal.

Green eyes swept across the plaza, cataloging threats with military precision. The exposed-brain Nomu, clearly bioengineered. The hand-covered villain, likely a disintegration quirk based on the damage patterns. The mist villain, warp quirk, but different from the portal he'd just emerged from.

The students caught his attention first. Not in standard uniforms, but in vibrant hero costumes. Each design unique, reflecting individual personalities and quirk applications. 

First-year hero students, he realized. Preparing for a world of professional heroism.

His gaze first locked with Shigaraki's red eyes - pure hatred and broken desperation radiating from the villain.

"Bakugo!" A red-headed teen in a hardening hero costume called out.

Izuku turned, following the voice, and saw Bakugo lying unconscious on the floor. The same explosive childhood Ex-friend now seemingly defeated and passed out.

An injured pro hero leaning against a boulder, barely conscious but still observing.

Next, the villains. Blood-lust burning in their eyes, a desperation that spoke of a plan gone catastrophically wrong. In that moment, Izuku knew exactly where he was home.

"What are you doing here?" Izuku's voice carried a weight of authority that seemed impossible for his age. "If you're here to bring harm to these kids..." His eyes hardened. "I hope you're prepared for Justice to be served."

Laughter echoed across the USJ, Shigaraki's scratching growing more frenzied. "Justice? You say?" His red eyes gleamed behind the hand covering his face. "I'd like to see you try to hand out this so-called justice you're speaking about, you no-good NPC!"

From her position near the water's edge, Tsuyu's eyes widened. "Did he say Marines ... the World Government? I've never heard of such an organization, kero."

Mineta, still half-submerged beside her, gaped at the military-clad figure. "Captain? But he can't be much older than us!

Through his swollen eyes, Aizawa managed to focus on the newcomer. Despite his injuries, years of pro hero experience had taught him to analyze even while incapacitated. The stance, the pristine white uniform with its ornate gold epaulettes, the strange martial arts techniques – none of it matched any military or hero organization he knew of. And that rank... Captain? For someone so young?

"World Government?" Shigaraki's scratching intensified. "Marines? What kind of cheat code is this? There's no military organization like that in the hero database!"

The tiger-cat – Kage – let out what sounded suspiciously like a snort, its tail swishing with clear amusement at the villain's distress.

"I'll say this one last time," Midoriya's voice hardened, his captain's coat swaying slightly in the breeze. "Surrender. You've lost your ace," he gestured toward the embedded Nomu, "your plan has failed, and reinforcements are on the way. Don't make this worse for yourselves."

The authority in his tone made several students shiver. This wasn't the pleading of someone trying to avoid violence – this was the command of a military officer who knew exactly how much damage they could inflict.

That's the missing kid from the news," Uraraka realized, her hand covering her mouth. "The one who vanished without a trace... but he's so different... and what's this about being a Marine Captain?

Aizawa, still struggling to remain conscious, found himself reassessing everything he thought he knew about the Midoriya case. The official report had suggested a possible villain abduction, but this... this looked like something far more complex. The white captain's coat, the combat techniques, that strange cat with impossible powers, and a military organization no one had ever heard of...

Where have you been, problem child? he wondered. And what exactly is this World Government you serve? 

The rest of Class 1-A watched in stunned silence as their mysterious savior – apparently both a missing student and a military captain – stood calmly before the League of Villains, his strange feline companion still pinning Shigaraki with one massive paw. The contrast between the confident officer before them and the crying face from the missing person posters couldn't have been more stark.

"Ten months..." someone whispered. "He was gone for ten months and became a captain in some unknown military?"

But looking at his stance, his eyes, the weight of command in his voice – it seemed like he'd lived through years in those ten months. Whatever story lay behind his disappearance and return, one thing was clear:

The quirkless, timid boy from the missing person posters no longer existed. In his place stood Captain Midoriya of the World Government Marines – someone who made even villains think twice.

Chapter Text

Bakugo's crimson eyes snapped open, his mind still foggy but rapidly clearing. He pushed himself up on his elbows, muscles protesting the movement.

"Bakubro, you're up!" Kirishima's relieved voice echoed in the stairwell where they had taken shelter.

"Man, dude, so much has been happening since you lost to that Nomu monster—"

The word 'lost' hit Bakugo like a physical blow. Memories flooded back: the overwhelming strength, the crushing defeat, the darkness that followed. His palms began to spark and smoke.

"Where..." Bakugo's voice came out as a growl, rage building with each passing second. "Where is that damn bastard?!"

He struggled to his feet, ignoring Kirishima's steadying hand. The sounds of battle echoed from below, but from their position in the stairwell, he couldn't see what was happening in the main arena.

Small explosions popped from his palms as his quirk responded to his rising anger. "Get out of my way, Hair-for-Brains! I'm going back down there!"

"Wait, Bakugo!" Kirishima moved to block his path. "There's someone down there who—"

But Bakugo wasn't listening anymore. His pride wounded and his anger boiling over, he was focused on only one thing: revenge.

"MOVE!" Bakugo roared, shoving past Kirishima. His palms ignited, and explosions thundered through the open space as he propelled himself down the exposed stairway. Each blast echoed across the vast facility, his descent visible to everyone below.

The sound of his quirk reverberated through USJ's dome, a series of rapid-fire explosions marking his path downward. Students and villains alike turned at the commotion, watching as Bakugo launched himself from level to level, leaving brief flashes of light and smoke in his wake.

As he reached the bottom landing, the battlefield spread out before him. Through the clearing smoke of his own quirk, he caught sight of something that made his blood freeze - a familiar head of green hair, freckles on a face he hadn't seen in 10 months.

"Deku?" The name escaped his lips in a harsh whisper, anger and confusion warring in his voice.

Before he could process this revelation, the air itself seemed to grow heavy. An overwhelming pressure radiated outward, causing lesser villains to collapse where they stood. Even Bakugo felt his knees threaten to buckle, though his pride kept him standing.

The stranger - no, Deku - stood tall amidst the chaos, his presence commanding in a way that defied everything Bakugo remembered about his former childhood friend.

"Surrender." The word carried weight beyond its meaning, filling the entire facility with undeniable authority.

Then, words that shattered everything Bakugo thought he knew:

"My Name Is Izuku Midoriya, A Captain in the Marines in the World Government."

The declaration hung in the air for only a moment before the main doors exploded inward.

"HAVE NO FEAR, FOR I AM HERE!"

All Might's booming voice should have filled the room with its usual reassurance. But as the Symbol of Peace took in the scene - and more importantly, heard Izuku's declaration - his ever-present smile faltered.

The color drained from All Might's face; his usual bravado replaced by something the students had never seen before: recognition tinged with disbelief.

Now here he stood, radiating power that rivaled All Might himself. The Symbol of Peace, looking like he'd seen a ghost. And that title - Captain in the Marines, World Government - terms that seemed to carry weight he couldn't understand.

Chapter Text

Bitter Defeat

The dark portal deposited Shigaraki and Kurogiri in an unceremonious heap at their bar hideout. Blood pooled beneath Shigaraki's severed wrist as he writhed in agony, his remaining hand clutching the stump where his right hand used to be.

"That beast!" Shigaraki's voice cracked with pain and rage. "That cheating monster and his demon cat!"

Kurogiri rushed to a hidden medical cabinet, his misty form moving more sluggishly than usual. The pain from where the Marine Captain had somehow grabbed his gaseous form still lingered - something that should have been impossible.

"Please hold still, Shigaraki Tomura. We need to stop the bleeding," Kurogiri managed, trying to ignore the ache in his mist-like body. "Though I must admit, I'm still trying to understand how he was able to make physical contact with my warp form..."

"Your injuries can wait!" Shigaraki snapped, then winced as Kurogiri began treating his wound. "My decay didn't work on him! I grabbed his arm and nothing happened! Nothing! As if my quirk didn't exist!"

The monitor in the corner flickered to life. The familiar distorted voice of All For One filled the room. "How did our plan proceed? Was All Might eliminated?"

Shigaraki's scratching intensified despite Kurogiri's attempts to treat him. "It failed! It failed because of some stupid Marine who shouldn't even exist!"

"Marine?" All For One's interest was palpable even through the distorted connection. "Explain."

Kurogiri took the lead, his yellow eyes dimming as he recalled the events. "A young man appeared during the operation. Green hair, approximately sixteen years old. He claimed to be a Marine Captain who was sent to another world. But what's most concerning is his ability to interact with my warp form as if it were solid matter. He used some energy - he called it 'Haki' - that allowed him to grab me despite my intangible state."

"Most interesting," All For One mused. "And Tomura, you mentioned your decay had no effect?"

"None!" Shigaraki's voice rose hysterically. "He caught my hand like it was nothing! His skin should have crumbled away, but instead, it was like hitting a wall made of that black armor he used! He said it wasn't even a quirk - called it 'Armament Haki' or something!"

"He demonstrated power comparable to All Might's, perhaps even greater," Kurogiri continued his report. "The Nomu was launched through the USJ dome with a single punch. He attributed all his abilities to training under someone called 'Vice Admiral Garp.'"

"Trained in another world," All For One repeated thoughtfully. "And these abilities - this 'Haki' that can affect even your warp form, Kurogiri, and negate Decay... Tell me more about his fighting style."

"He moved like a veteran warrior," Kurogiri explained, finishing the bandaging on Shigaraki's wrist. "His attacks weren't just powerful - they were precise. He could predict our movements before we made them, as if he could sense our intentions. And that cat of his..."

"That demon!" Shigaraki interjected. "It cut off my hand and burned it to ash before we could retrieve it! And it had the same black armor coating its claws!"

All For One remained silent for a moment, processing this information. 

Master yelled out while his free hand clawed at his neck. "He was the boy who disappeared 10 months ago in that video. He should have stayed gone! But he came back with impossible power! Power that makes quirks useless! It's not fair! The game wasn't supposed to work like this!"

"Most concerning indeed," All For One mused. "A power that can negate quirks, achieved through pure training in another world... This requires careful consideration." There was a pause before he continued, "Kurogiri, take Shigaraki to the doctor. We'll need to address his injury immediately."

"And Kurogiri," All For One added, "I want you to tell the doctor everything about how this 'Haki' affected your warp form. The ability to make the intangible tangible... that could prove very valuable information."

"Of course, Sensei," Kurogiri bowed slightly, trying to ignore the lingering sensation of that impossible grip on his mist-like body.

"And Tomura," All For One's voice softened slightly, "try to calm yourself. This setback, while significant, provides us with valuable information. If what you say is true about this Marine Captain, about power that can override quirks themselves... well, perhaps we need to reevaluate our entire approach."

As Kurogiri prepared to transport them to the doctor's location, Shigaraki's mumblings grew more coherent. "I'll kill him... I'll kill that green-haired cheat and his demon cat... I'll turn them both to dust..."

The monitor clicked off, leaving All For One alone with his thoughts. A quirkless boy sent to another world, returning with power that could negate quirks themselves... The implications were staggering. If such power could be achieved through training alone, if quirks could be rendered useless by this 'Haki,' then perhaps the very foundations of their quirk-based society were more fragile than anyone had realized.

"Doctor," All For One spoke into another communication device, "we may need to accelerate our plans. And... prepare something special for our young Marine Captain. It seems we're not just playing a new game - we're playing by entirely different rules now."

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the USJ grounds as Class 1-A watched the mysterious Marine Captain being escorted toward the main building. His cat remained perched on his shoulder, emerald eyes scanning their surroundings with an alertness that spoke of battlefield experience.

"Dude!" Kirishima finally broke the tense silence, his sharp teeth flashing in an excited grin. "That was the most manly thing I've ever seen! And you're saying he's our age?"

"Not exactly," Yaoyorozu interjected, her analytical mind already working through the implications. "If what he said is true about spending two and a half years in another world, while only ten months passed here..." She created a small abacus, fingers moving beads automatically. "Technically, he would be mentally older than us, despite his physical age remaining the same."

"Can we talk about what's important here?" Mina bounced on her feet, pink cheeks flushed with excitement.

"What's that?" Uraraka asked, still trying to process everything she'd witnessed.

"He's totally a cutie!" Mina gushed, earning several nods from other female classmates. "Did you see how he moved? And that commanding presence? Plus, he has an adorable cat!"

"Ashido!" Iida's hands chopped the air with increased intensity. "This is hardly the time for such observations! We should be focusing on the extraordinary feat of achieving such strength without a quirk!"

"For real though," Kaminari chimed in, electricity crackling in his hair from residual excitement. "Did you see how fast he moved? Iida, can you even move that quickly with your Engine?"

"I don't believe what we witnessed was merely speed," Iida adjusted his glasses thoughtfully. "There was no displacement of air or dust that would indicate normal movement. It was as if he was... shifting through space itself."

"The level of skill required..." Todoroki spoke up for the first time, his heterochromatic eyes focused on the retreating figure. "To achieve that at our age..."

"Kero," Tsuyu put a finger to her chin, her direct nature cutting through the excitement. "Is nobody going to address what Bakugo said earlier? About him wanting to end his life?"

The mood shifted instantly. All eyes turned to Bakugo, who had been uncharacteristically quiet since the battle ended.

"Hey, Bakubro," Kirishima ventured carefully. "You seemed to know him. What's the story there?"

Bakugo's hands crackled with small explosions, his face contorting with rage. "You want to fucking know? Fine! He's a worthless, quirkless Deku who used to follow me around like a damn shadow! He was so fucking weak that a few words made him jump! Left his mom worried sick for ten months because his quirkless ass couldn't handle reality!"

The venom in Bakugo's voice made several classmates step back. The raw anger seemed to make the air itself heavy with tension.

"Dude," Kaminari whispered, "you didn't have to go that hard..."

"Fuck all of you!" Bakugo exploded, literally and figuratively, before storming off toward the school entrance.

The class stood in stunned silence, processing this new information. The powerful Marine who had just saved them all had once been suicidal? The same person who had faced down villains without flinching had been driven to such despair?

"That's... pretty heavy," Jirou muttered, her earphone jacks twisting anxiously.

"But look at him now," Uraraka observed, watching as the young man spoke with the police, his posture radiating quiet confidence. "Whatever happened in that other world... it completely transformed him."

"Two and a half years," Tokoyami mused from the shadows. "Two and a half years of training, of growth, of finding one's path... compressed into ten months of our time. Perhaps Dark Shadow and I should seek similar enlightenment."

"Still," Yaoyorozu's voice was thoughtful, "to achieve such power without a quirk... it challenges everything we've been taught about heroics."

"And did you see how he handled Shigaraki?" Sero added. "That wasn't just power - that was experience. Real combat experience."

The class continued watching as their mysterious savior disappeared into the building with the authorities. Each student processed what they'd witnessed in their way, but they all shared one thought: the world of heroics they thought they understood had just become much larger and more complex than they'd ever imagined.

"Hey," Kirishima spoke up again, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "Whatever happened before, whatever made him... You know... He came back stronger. Not just physically, but..." He gestured vaguely. "You saw how he carried himself, right? That's real growth."

The class nodded in agreement. They'd witnessed something extraordinary today - not just a display of power, but a testament to the human spirit's capacity for transformation. As future heroes themselves, they couldn't help but wonder what other possibilities lay beyond the limitations they'd always accepted as truth.

Chapter Text

The interrogation room was standard issue - bare walls, metal table, and the telltale mirror that everyone knew was a window. Izuku sat calmly, Kage still perched on his shoulder, as Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi entered with a folder.

"Hi there, Izuku Midoriya," the detective began with a friendly smile. "My name is Naomasa Tsukauchi, Detective with the police force. Before we begin, I must inform you by law of my quirk - it's called Lie Detector."

Izuku's eyes immediately lit up with fascination, his old habit of quirk analysis briefly overtaking his military bearing. "A quirk that can detect lies? The applications for interrogation and investigation would be incredible! Does it work on partial truths? What about lies of omission? Can-"

Kage tapped him lightly on the head with its paw, bringing him back to focus. Behind the glass, All Might couldn't help but smile - some things hadn't changed after all.

"Sorry," Izuku straightened, his Captain's demeanor returning. "Please proceed with your questions, Detective."

"First, please state your name for the record."

"Midoriya Izuku."

ping - true.

"Can you tell me about the chain of events that led to your... decision that night?"

Izuku hesitated, glancing at the mirror. "Are you sure it's okay for me to speak freely about that day?"

"It's fine, Izuku," Tsukauchi assured him. "If you're worried about All Might's secret, everyone behind the glass already knows about his condition."

Izuku nodded, then began his story. "I was attacked by a villain made of sludge. All Might saved me, but I grabbed onto his leg as he jumped away. That's when I discovered his true form." His voice grew quieter. "He told me I couldn't be a hero without a quirk. That I should give up my dream."

ping ping ping - all true.

Behind the glass, All Might's skeletal form seemed to shrink further with each word. Principal Nezu watched him with unreadable eyes.

"And then?" Tsukauchi prompted gently.

"I... I went to the roof of my middle school, I was going to..." Izuku's voice trailed off, but Kage pressed against his cheek supportively. "That's when it happened."

"What exactly happened, Izuku?"

"I was Isekai'd."

The detective's pen stopped moving. "I'm sorry, you were what?"

"Isekai'd. Transported to another world. Specifically, I was sent to a world of pirates and marines, where I was found by Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp of the Marines. He took me in, trained me, and helped me become who I am today. I spent two and a half years there, though only ten months passed here."

ping ping ping - all true.

Present mic, Midnight, Aziawa rolling in with a wheelchair, and All Might with Nezu on his shoulder came right into the Integration with jaws hanging open. 

"Hold up, hold up," Present Mic waved his hands frantically, his usual volume control completely abandoned. "You're telling us you literally got transported to another world? Like those manga stories? THAT'S ABSOLUTELY WILD!"

"Hizashi, volume," Aizawa growled from his wheelchair, though his own eyes were wide with disbelief. Despite his logical nature, his quirk-erasing abilities had never encountered anything like what he'd witnessed today. "Though I admit, this explains the completely foreign fighting style."

Midnight leaned against the wall, fanning herself. "My, my... so our young man spent two and a half years in another world. That certainly explains the... mature presence he carries." She smirked before becoming serious. "But the psychological implications of such displacement..."

"Fascinating! Absolutely fascinating!" Nezu was practically bouncing. The implications for physics alone are revolutionary! 

All Might remained uncharacteristically quiet, his skeletal form seeming to shrink further with each revelation. His words had driven young Midoriya to that rooftop, and instead of a tragedy, it had led to... this. He wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or more guilty.

"Wait a second," Tsukauchi held up his hand, his detective's mind racing. "You're saying that while everyone here thought you were missing for ten months, you actually lived through two and a half years? Trained in a military organization? Fought in actual battles?"

"Yes, sir," Izuku confirmed. "The Grand Line is... not a forgiving place. The Marines are the primary peacekeeping force in a world where people can control earthquakes with a punch or turn entire cities to ice."

ping - true.

"Sweet mother of..." Present Mic whispered, for once, quietly.

"And you achieved the rank of Captain?" Aizawa pressed, his analytical mind focusing on the practical aspects. "At your age?"

"Age matters less there than capability," Izuku explained. "When you're facing pirates who can split continents, what matters is your ability to protect civilians, not how many birthdays you've had."

ping - true.

Nezu's eyes gleamed brighter. "A meritocratic system based on ability rather than inherent powers or age... Most interesting indeed."

"I need to sit down," Tsukauchi muttered, actually taking a seat. "So when you returned..."

"I found only ten months had passed," Izuku nodded. "My mother... she must have been so worried." His captain's demeanor cracked slightly at the mention of Inko.

"Young Midoriya," All Might finally spoke, his voice heavy with emotion. "I... my words that day..."

"That was exactly what I needed to hear," Izuku interrupted, surprising everyone. "If you hadn't crushed my dreams that day, I wouldn't have been on that roof. I wouldn't have been sent to that world. I wouldn't have learned that being quirkless doesn't mean being powerless." He smiled, a genuine expression that somehow made him look both his physical and mental age at once. "Sometimes the harshest truths lead us to the greatest growth."

There was a long moment of silence as everyone processed this. Finally, Nezu spoke up, his voice carrying that dangerous tone that his staff had learned to both fear and respect:

"Well then, Marine Captain Midoriya... I believe we have quite a lot to discuss about the future of heroics education."

Chapter Text

The car ride from UA back to the old apartment was quiet, almost painfully so. Inko kept glancing at her son, as if afraid he might disappear again if she looked away too long. Izuku gazed out the window, watching the familiar city blur past, feeling both heavier and lighter than he’d ever been. Kage, the black cat, lounged across his shoulders, eyes half-lidded but always alert.

When the taxi finally pulled up to their building, Inko took a steadying breath. The door slid open. Izuku stepped out first.

It was early evening, the sun just beginning to set behind the rows of apartment blocks. As he and his mother made their way up the walk, Izuku immediately felt it: the weight of dozens of eyes. Curtains twitched. Balconies that had been empty moments ago were suddenly occupied by neighbors pretending to tend to plants or check their phones. The air was thick with anticipation and judgment.

He had not set foot here in over two years. To them, he was the boy who vanished—a quirkless, unlucky kid everyone had written off, some with relief, others with guilt. Now, he was back, and the news seemed to ripple through the building like a stone dropped in a still pond.

He heard the whispers before he saw the faces.

"Is that... Midoriya? The quirkless one?"
"Didn’t he run away? Or was it something worse?"
"God, it was quieter without that freak around."
"Poor Inko, I always felt bad for her. At least she won’t be alone now."
"Maybe he’ll leave again. It was better that way."

The words stung, sharp as ever. Izuku kept his head down, hands gripping the straps of his faded backpack, willing himself not to react. He’d heard worse from pirates and criminals, but somehow the cruelty of neighbors—the people who watched you grow up—cut deeper.

Inko, walking just ahead, straightened her shoulders. Her steps faltered for a moment as she caught the edge of gossip, but she pressed on, holding her keys like a shield. When an older woman from the second floor called out, “Welcome home, Inko!” her smile was weary but genuine.

“Thank you, Mrs. Sato. We’re glad to be back,” Inko replied, voice trembling only a little.

Kage, perched atop Izuku’s head, flicked his tail with annoyance. His golden eyes narrowed at a cluster of teens loitering by the mailboxes, who had muttered, “Freak’s back,” a little too loudly. The boys met the cat’s glare and immediately found somewhere else to look.

Their door looked exactly as Izuku remembered a little dingy, a little battered, but still home. Inko fumbled with her keys and finally managed to open it. The apartment smelled faintly of cleaning products and old furniture, a scent Izuku had never realized he’d missed.

He stepped inside and let the weight of the world fall away, just for a moment.

The apartment was small: two rooms, a cramped kitchen, a little balcony barely big enough for a potted plant. But it was theirs. Inko set her bag down and turned to her son. For a second, she just looked at him, as if memorizing his face all over again.

“Do you want tea?” she asked, her voice gentle. It was the question of a thousand evenings, a comfort so familiar it almost made him cry.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Izuku answered, smiling.

They kept the lights off, letting the orange glow of sunset flood the room. As the kettle boiled, Inko sat across from him at the table. She reached out and took his hand, her fingers trembling.

“Izuku,” she whispered, “I’m so, so sorry. I should have been stronger for you. I should have fought harder, believed in you more. When you disappeared, I—” Her voice broke. “I thought I’d lost you forever.”

Izuku squeezed her hand. “Mom, I’m here now. That’s what matters. I... I got to see places I never imagined. I met people who became like family to me. I learned what I’m capable of. It was hard. But I came back. For you.”

Tears welled in Inko’s eyes. “I never wanted you to feel like you had to leave to find yourself.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “But in that world... I became someone I can be proud of. Someone who helps people, even if I don’t have a quirk.”

The kettle whistled. Inko wiped her cheeks and poured two cups, carrying them back to the table. “I used to worry every day. About what would happen if you stayed. About what would happen if you left. I was so afraid. And I let that fear make me say things I regret.”

Izuku looked down, remembering every night he spent staring at his ceiling, wishing he could be someone else—someone with a quirk, someone worthy. “It’s okay, Mom. I forgive you. I always did.”

From the window, the muffled sounds of the neighborhood continued—a baby crying, a TV blaring, more whispers. Some voices were sympathetic.

“At least Inko won’t be so lonely now.”
“He’s her whole world, you know.”
“Maybe... maybe he’ll surprise us all.”

But others were less kind.

“He’ll just be trouble again.”
“I hope he doesn’t bring shame to the building.”
“Why couldn’t he just stay gone?”

Kage, having finished inspecting every corner of the apartment, hopped onto Izuku’s lap and settled there, purring. He glared at the window, as if daring any of the neighbors to repeat those words to his human’s face.

Inko watched the cat and smiled for the first time that night. “He really likes you, doesn’t he?”

Izuku scratched Kage behind the ears. “He was there for me when no one else was. We’ve been through a lot together.”

They sat in companionable silence for a long time, sipping tea as the sun slipped below the horizon. Izuku told her stories—about the marines, about his friends, about the battles and the laughter and the days at sea. Inko laughed and cried, sometimes at the same time, the weight of her worry slowly easing with every word.

As night fell, Izuku helped Inko prepare dinner. The simple act of chopping vegetables and setting the table felt like a miracle, a proof that life could still be normal after everything. As they ate, the noise from the neighbors faded into the background. It was just the two of them, a family reunited.

Later, as Izuku lay in his old bed, listening to the familiar creaks and sighs of the apartment, he thought about the stares and whispers. He knew not everyone would accept him. Some wounds ran deeper than time could heal. But he also knew he was stronger now. He had survived a world of monsters, pirates, and gods—and come home with a loyal friend at his side.

No matter what anyone said, he was here, and he was loved. And for tonight, that was enough.

The next morning at UA, the atmosphere in the staff conference room was tense, the air thick with the weight of what had happened at the USJ. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, revealing tired faces, eyes red from lack of sleep and too many news cycles. Principal Nezu, perched at the head of the table, cleared his throat and brought the room to order.

"We've all reviewed the reports. Let's discuss the chain of events from the attack, how the students handled themselves, and what comes next," Nezu began, his tone grave but focused.

Midnight was the first to speak, her voice softer than usual. "Despite the chaos, most of the students held up better than anyone could have expected. Some even tried to organize and protect each other."

Snipe nodded. "They showed guts. But the trauma—it's going to set in. We need Hound Dog to meet with each of class 1-A and identify students who are struggling. Some of them are putting on a brave face, but it's evident in their eyes. They’re shaken."

Nezu scribbled a quick note. "Agreed. I'll have Hound Dog begin counseling sessions starting today. We can't let this fester."

Cementoss crossed his arms. "There’s also the question of what happened with Bakugo and Kirishima. Their decision to attack the mist villain Kurogiri could have gotten everyone killed."

Recovery Girl frowned. "Bakugos was reckless, but Kirishima is usually more level-headed. I want to know what was going through their minds when they decided to charge in like that—especially since both of them got in Thirteen’s way and nearly derailed the whole containment effort."

Present Mic shook his head, recalling the chaos. "They weren't just ignoring orders they actively blocked Thirteen from using her Quirk to contain Kurogiri. It was all impulse, no thought to the bigger picture."

Cementoss added, "Their actions didn't just risk their own safety they put everyone else in more danger. Thirteen had a plan and the training to execute it, but Bakugo and Kirishima thought they could end it their way. That sort of hero complex can’t go unchecked."

Aizawa’s jaw tightened. "They’ll both have to face the consequences. Not only did their recklessness almost get their classmates warped away by Kurogiri, but they also endangered a pro hero by interfering. We can't have students undermining teachers in a crisis."

Vlad King nodded. "We’ll need a focused debrief with both of them. Kirishima’s usually a stabilizing force, but in the heat of the moment, he followed Bakugo’s lead. We need to make sure they understand that true heroism isn’t about jumping in headfirst it’s about trusting your team and the pros."

All Might looked down at his hands, his voice low and tinged with guilt. "And what of my actions? I wasted time taking down villains when I should have focused on the students. I let my emotions get the better of me. I should have trusted my colleagues to handle the lesser threats and kept my attention on protecting the class."

Nezu’s eyes narrowed, but his tone was fair. "You’re Japan’s Symbol of Peace, but you’re also a teacher. Your primary responsibility here is to the students. The media’s already questioning whether UA can keep its children safe. We need to show the world that we’re not above learning from our own mistakes."

Ectoplasm glanced at the stack of newspapers on the table, each headline more damning than the last: UA'S FAILURE? HERO SCHOOL ATTACKED!, STUDENTS IN DANGER, WHERE WERE THE PROS? "We’re going to have to manage this media backlash very carefully. The public’s faith in us is shaken, and if we don't address their concerns head-on, it could get worse."

Nezu nodded. "We’ll hold a press conference. I’ll speak myself and take responsibility for what happened. We’ll outline new security measures and make it clear that student safety is our number one priority."

A short pause lingered in the room. Snipe tapped his finger on the table. "And what of that boy? The one who appeared at the USJ and saved the students? The media’s already running wild with speculation."

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed. "Midoriya. I want to know more about him. His tactics, his presence, the way he handled himself  it was experience. I want him in my class. UA could use someone like him, and I want to see firsthand the change he’ll bring."

Nezu gazed out the window, his mind clearly working through possibilities. "I’ll reach out to Midoriya and his mother. We’ll discuss what a future at UA could look like for him. In the meantime, let’s focus on stabilizing things here supporting our students, strengthening our protocols, and being honest about what needs to change."

Aizawa nodded, determination in his eyes. "I’ll prep a plan for integrating him into Class 1-A. And I’ll make sure Bakugo and Kirishima understand the gravity of what happened. No more mistakes like that."

The staff looked around the room, the sense of unity returning. They had been shaken, yes, but not broken. They would rebuild. They would learn. And UA, for all its flaws, would rise again stronger, and perhaps, more just than ever before.

After the staff meeting sunlight slanted through the windows as Class 1-A anxiously awaited their homeroom teacher. The usual bustle of energetic voices was replaced with a tense, uneasy quiet. The trauma of the USJ attack still lingered, and everyone knew a reckoning was coming.

The door slid open with a sharp snap. In strode Aizawa—bandaged from head to toe, wrapped so thoroughly he looked like a mummy from one of Sero’s horror movies. Only his tired, sharp eyes and a few strands of messy black hair were visible between the layers of gauze and medical wraps. The class stared. Some students looked away, others paled at the reminder of how close they’d come to losing their teacher.

Aizawa’s voice, muffled but unmistakably stern, broke the silence. “Sit up. Eyes forward.”

He stood at the front, arms crossed over his chest, his capture weapon now coiled loosely at his waist. “We have to talk about what happened at USJ.”

His gaze was particularly piercing as it landed on Bakugo and Kirishima. “Most of you followed the evacuation protocols and did your best to work together. Some of you, however, decided to ignore orders and act on your own. Bakugo. Kirishima. Stand up.”

The two boys rose, stiff backed. Bakugo bristled, chin jutting out in defiance, while Kirishima looked down, guilt etched into his features.

Aizawa continued, “You both interfered with Thirteen’s containment strategy. Not only did you ignore direct instructions you got in a pro hero’s way and got your classmates warped to different zones in the USJ. Actions like that put everyone at risk.”

Bakugo couldn’t hold back. “I saw an opening! If I could’ve blown that mist bastard to bits.

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not a solo act, Bakugo. You’re a student. Your job is to trust your teachers, not throw yourself headlong into danger because you think you know better. Your recklessness and pride almost got people killed.”

He turned to Kirishima. “And you, Kirishima. Normally you’re reliable, but you let yourself get swept up by Bakugo’s bravado. That’s not leadership—it’s herd mentality. Heroes don’t just run in; they assess and act as a team.”

Kirishima’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “You’re right, Sensei. I messed up.”

Aizawa let the silence stretch, his presence even more intimidating wrapped in medical bandages. “Both of you have earned two weeks of detention with me. You’ll report every day after classes, and you’ll write formal apologies to Thirteen and the rest of your classmates for endangering everyone.”

Bakugo tried again, voice tight with frustration. “That’s not fair! I—”

Aizawa cut him off. “Life isn’t fair, Bakugo. Hero work isn’t fair. What matters is that you learn from your mistakes before they become fatal. Until you can prove you understand that you’re just another liability.”

Bakugo glared, fists clenched, but he didn’t argue further. Kirishima just nodded, defeated.

Aizawa faced the rest of the class. “This is bigger than just Bakugo and Kirishima. Every one of you needs to understand: in a crisis, following the plan and trusting your team saves lives. Heroics aren’t about glory—they’re about responsibility.”

A heavy silence settled over the classroom, the truth of his words sinking in.

After a moment, Momo raised her hand. “Sensei… there’s something we’ve all been wondering. The boy who saved us Midoriya Izuku. He’s the same one from that video, isn’t he? The one who jumped off his school roof.”

A hush fell over the class. Even Bakugo looked up, his usual scowl replaced by something wary and troubled. Everyone had seen the video at some point the grainy, heart stopping footage of a boy, small and alone, standing on the edge before vanishing into a swirling, unnatural void. For days, the story had haunted the internet and the news, though it eventually faded into the endless churn of tragedies.

Aizawa’s bandaged face softened just a little. “Yes. That was him.”

Jiro’s voice was quiet. “But… how did he end up at the USJ? How did he survive?”

Aizawa shook his head. “Some of that is still being investigated. What matters is that when he appeared at USJ, he acted with the skill and resolve of a pro hero—without using a quirk. He put himself between you and danger, even though he had no obligation to do so.”

Mina bit her lip. “Why would he risk his life for us?”

Aizawa’s gaze moved over each of them. “That’s something only Midoriya can fully answer. What I can tell you is this he’s seen more and endured more than any of you realize. And despite everything, he chose to help. That’s the kind of person he is.”

The class sat in reflective silence. The image of the lonely boy from the video written off by so many as a lost cause now overlapped with the memory of the determined figure who’d stood against villains at USJ. It was a lot to process.

Bakugo’s jaw worked, as if he wanted to say something, but no words came. Sero finally broke the silence with a hint of awe, “He really did all that without a quirk…”

Aizawa nodded. “He’s proof that courage and training matter as much as any power. He’s not a UA student yet. But you may see more of him soon.”

Momo, always thoughtful, murmured, “It’s hard to imagine going through all that… and still coming back to help people.”

Aizawa’s voice was steady. “It’s something worth remembering, for all of you. Heroism isn’t about having the strongest quirk or winning the most battles. It’s about what you do when things are at their worst, and who you choose to be.”

He let them sit with that for a moment before concluding. “Class dismissed. Bakugo, Kirishima—stay after.”

As the students filed out, their whispers were no longer just about fear or the attack—but about the boy from the video, the mystery of his return, and what it truly meant to be a hero. Aizawa, still wrapped like a mummy, watched them go and allowed himself a rare, hopeful thought: perhaps this moment would change all of them for the better.

Chapter Text

Principal Nezu sat at his desk, tapping his paws together as he reviewed the latest staff notes. The events at USJ had left more questions than answers, and speculation about the mysterious quirkless hero had reached a fever pitch. Even now, the faculty’s curiosity was matched only by their concern for their students’ mental state—and a growing sense that U.A. itself was at a crossroads.

He reached for his phone and dialed the number he’d been given just that morning. The line rang twice before Inko Midoriya picked up, her voice hesitant but polite.

“Hello? This is Inko Midoriya.”

“Mrs. Midoriya, good afternoon. This is Principal Nezu from U.A. High School,” he said, his tone as warm and inviting as ever. “I hope you and your son are doing well after everything that’s happened.”

There was a pause, then a quiet, “We’re doing better, thank you. Is… is something wrong?”

“Not at all. In fact, I’d like to extend an invitation. Would you and your son be willing to come to U.A. tomorrow? Our faculty would very much appreciate hearing Izuku’s full story his experiences, his journey, and anything he can share that might help us understand what happened and how he’s come back to us. I believe it could be invaluable for our students and our school as a whole.”

Inko’s relief was palpable, though a note of worry lingered. “You want Izuku to speak to your teachers?”

“If he’s comfortable. We want to learn from him, and we want to properly thank him as well,” Nezu said kindly. “We also have a device prepared in our staff room. It uses a quirk under careful supervision, of course that allows us to project and view someone’s memories. With Izuku’s permission, this could help us better understand his experience and ensure nothing is misunderstood or left out.”

There was a long silence as Inko relayed the request. In the background, Nezu could hear a faint, “I don’t mind, Mom. If it helps, I’ll do it.”

Inko returned, sounding a little more confident. “We’ll come. Thank you for asking him, and for being so considerate.”

Nezu’s smile could be heard in his voice. “Thank you, Mrs. Midoriya. We’ll see you both tomorrow at noon. Please come to the main office you’ll be escorted right in.”

As he hung up, Nezu turned his attention to the staff preparations. The conference room was already being arranged, the memory projection device checked and re-checked by Power Loader and a trusted third year student whose quirk made the whole thing possible. Nezu wanted everything to be perfect both to make Izuku comfortable and to ensure the staff could witness the truth with their own eyes.

He glanced at the schedule on his computer, then at the empty teacup beside him. Tomorrow, he thought, would be a day that changed U.A. forever.

Inko stood in the doorway of Izuku’s room, watching her son quietly as he moved around, clearing off shelves and pulling down posters. The walls once a shrine to All Might, plastered with magazine covers, rare posters, and meticulously arranged action figures were slowly being stripped bare. Izuku worked methodically, gently folding the faded posters, setting the figures back into their boxes with a carefulness that bordered on reverence.

Kage lounged on the bed, tail flicking lazily, but his eyes never truly closed. The black cat’s ears twitched every time Izuku brushed past, or the floor creaked beneath Inko’s feet.

At last, Inko took a breath and stepped into the room. “Izuku,” she said softly, her voice gentle with concern.

He paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Hey, Mom. Sorry, I’m just… cleaning up. I guess I don’t need all this anymore.”

She looked around, her gaze lingering on a particularly old All Might plushie its colors faded, its smile a little crooked from years of being hugged. “It’s all right, sweetheart. You don’t have to get rid of everything. He was your hero for a long time.”

Izuku offered a small, sheepish smile. “He was. But… things are different now. I’m different now.”

Inko nodded, walking over to sit on the edge of his bed, careful not to disturb Kage, who merely flicked an ear in greeting. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Principal Nezu called.”

Izuku straightened, curiosity and a hint of worry flickering across his face. “Did something happen?”

“No, nothing bad,” Inko assured him quickly. “He invited us to U.A. tomorrow. The teachers want to hear your story everything that happened to you. Nezu said it could help everyone understand what you went through, and maybe help the students and staff, too.”

Izuku looked thoughtful for a moment, glancing down at the All Might figure in his hands before setting it gently in the box. “He wants me to explain everything. Even… the hard parts?”

She nodded. “He said they’re preparing a special device one that can show your memories, with your permission. He was very clear: only if you’re comfortable.”

Izuku was quiet for a long moment. Kage’s tail thumped softly against the bedspread, as if in silent encouragement.

“Okay,” Izuku said at last. “I’ll do it. If it helps people understand… if it helps make things better, then I want to try.”

Inko smiled, relief and pride mingling in her eyes. She reached out and pulled him into a gentle hug. “I’m proud of you, Izuku. No matter what happened, or what anyone says—you’re my hero.”

Kage watched them, eyes half-lidded and content, but the faintest glint in his gaze suggested he’d be keeping a close watch on his human, now more than ever.

Izuku changed into his old workout clothes, the fabric faded and well-worn after years of use and laced up his sneakers. He stepped quietly out of the apartment, giving his mom a reassuring wave as he left. The cool air of the city evening met him at the door a familiar, almost comforting chill. For a moment, Izuku just stood there, breathing in, grounding himself, before he started to jog.

He let his feet carry him through the winding streets of his neighborhood, past the old park where he used to sit and imagine being a hero, past the convenience store where the owner sometimes slipped him an extra rice ball out of pity. People stared some with surprise, some with thinly veiled disdain. But he kept running, letting their words and stares roll off him like rain.

He pushed himself harder, past the edge of the shopping district and into quieter backstreets, lungs burning, legs aching in a way that felt good and honest. His mind drifted to his memories of the other world the relentless training drills under Garp’s watchful eyes, the bruises and scrapes, the taste of salt in the air and the thrum of a ship’s deck beneath his feet. He remembered the pride of wearing that Marine coat, the trust his friends had placed in him, the responsibility he carried every day to protect and serve, even when no one else would.

That world was gone now, and the title he’d fought for meant nothing here. No one in Japan would salute him, call him Captain, or trust him with their lives. But that didn’t matter. He was still a Marine in his heart now and always. The discipline, the honor, the drive to help others those things weren’t bound to a place or a uniform.

He found a quiet spot by the river, out of sight from the curious and the cruel. There, Izuku dropped into a familiar routine: push-ups, sit-ups, squats, then sprints up and down the embankment. His body moved through the drills automatically, sweat running down his face, breath coming in steady bursts. The rhythm calmed him, reminded him of who he was and what he’d survived.

As dusk settled over the city, Izuku stood at the water’s edge, hands on his knees, chest heaving. He straightened and looked out at the shimmering water, letting the silence fill him. Even if the world called him quirkless, even if they never saw past his old reputation, he knew the truth. He was stronger than he’d ever been, and nothing no words, no stares could take that away.

When he finally turned to jog home, the city lights were flickering on. He felt a little lighter, a little more himself. Tomorrow, he would face U.A., share his story, and show them all the strength born from two worlds. For tonight, it was enough just to run, to train, and to remember that he was, and always would be, a Marine.

The next morning dawned bright and cool, sunlight spilling gently through the curtains and lighting up the modest apartment. The comforting clatter of dishes and the sizzle of eggs on the stove drifted from the kitchen, where Inko was already bustling around, preparing breakfast. The rich aroma of miso soup and warm rice filled the air, wrapping the home in a sense of calm routine.

Izuku, still in his pajamas, sat at the small table with Kage sprawled across his lap, the cat’s head resting on his knee and golden eyes half-closed in contentment. He absentmindedly scratched behind Kage’s ears, lost in thought about the day ahead. Every so often, he glanced at his neatly pressed Marine uniform, which hung nearby its stark white and blue a sharp reminder of everything he’d been through, and everything he’d become.

When Inko called out that breakfast was ready, Izuku gently scooped Kage up and set him on the chair beside his own before joining his mother in the kitchen. They ate together in companionable quiet, trading soft smiles and the occasional reassuring word. Inko, though clearly nervous, did her best to put on a brave face for her son.

Once the meal was finished and the dishes cleared, Izuku finally rose and took his uniform from its hanger. He slipped into it with slow, steady hands, feeling the fabric settle across his shoulders. The weight of the coat was familiar, almost grounding an anchor to who he’d become. Kage, now fully awake, leapt up and claimed his perch atop Izuku’s head, tail flicking with anticipation for whatever came next. 

A little before noon, a sleek private car pulled up in front of the Midoriya's modest apartment building. Inko peered out the window, nervous but determined, her heart pounding as she gathered her bag and called for Izuku. He joined her at the door, straightening his collar once more, and together they stepped out onto the sidewalk.

The driver, a man in a crisp black suit and cap, exited the car and offered a respectful bow. “Good morning, Midoriya-San. Young Midoriya. I am here on behalf of Principal Nezu to escort you to U.A.”

Izuku returned the gesture, bowing deeply in return, and Inko followed suit with a nervous smile. Kage, naturally, made no such effort, but his golden eyes regarded the driver with a regal, appraising calm.

The ride through the city was smooth and mostly quiet. Izuku gazed out the window, watching the city move—people crossing intersections, shopkeepers setting out displays, students in uniform hurrying to their own schools. Every so often, he caught sight of his own reflection, and his Marine coat.

Inko, meanwhile, had Kage settled comfortably in her lap. She stroked his soft fur, marveling at how he leaned into her touch and purred with contentment. She glanced at her son, offering him a reassuring smile. For just a moment, the tension seemed to ease, the car’s interior filled with the gentle sound of Kage’s purring and the warmth of Inko’s affection.

Kage, for his part, was in his element. He enjoyed the attention from his “other human,” eyes half-lidded with contentment. But even as he soaked up the affection, there was an unmistakable edge to his presence a silent warning that, for those who didn’t know, once Kage claimed you as his human, no one dared to harm you. It was a truth that transcended worlds, a promise of protection that even the most hardened villains would think twice before testing.

As the car pulled through U.A.’s gates, Izuku sat a little straighter, feeling both the nerves and the pride that came with wearing his Marine uniform. Inko reached over and squeezed his hand, grounding him as the academy’s iconic campus came into view. Whatever happened today, they would face it together with Kage, ever vigilant, watching over them both.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The final memory played: young Izuku on the roof, tears streaming down his face as he stepped forward. Below him, a swirling mass of black and red opened up, swallowing him whole. The room fell into stunned silence as the device powered down.

The screen flickered as the next memory began to play. Izuku's body plummeted through darkness before splashing into the vast ocean. The teachers watched, hearts in their

throats, as the unconscious boy began to sink.

"My God," Present Mic whispered, his usual bombastic personality subdued by the gravity of what they were witnessing.

All Might's breathing stopped for a moment, his skeletal form rigid with tension. The memory of his harsh words to the boy echoed in his mind, making this moment even more painful to witness.

Fortunately, the rescue came quickly strong arms pulling Izuku from the depths. The scene shifted to a medical bay, where Izuku lay unconscious with a small black cat curled protectively on his chest.

"So that's where you two first met," Recovery Girl observed softly, looking at present day Kage, who purred in confirmation.

The memory crystallized into focus as Izuku awoke to find himself surrounded by three figures. The most imposing was an elderly man with white hair and a broad grin that somehow managed to be both friendly and terrifying at the same time.

"That's Monkey D. Garp?" Nezu inquired, studying the legendary marine with keen interest.

Izuku nodded, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Yes, that's my mentor and master."

"And those two?" Recovery Girl gestured to the other figures in the memory.

"My best friends and fellow trainees under Garp," Izuku explained, his voice filled with fondness.

The teachers watched in rapt attention as Garp's booming voice filled the room: "Listen here, kid! You don't need any special power, devil fruit, or this 'quirk' thing to help people and fight for justice. All you need is training and guts to reach your dreams!"

"What a remarkable man," Midnight breathed, watching as Garp's words sparked something in young Izuku's eyes a fire that had been nearly extinguished.

All Might felt a deep ache in his chest as he watched. Here was a man who had done what he should have done encouraged a determined young boy's dream while offering a path forward, rather than crushing his hopes entirely.

The memory continued as Garp extended his hand to Izuku, offering him a chance - not just to survive, but to thrive. "Kid, how would you like to become a Marine?"

Young Izuku's tearful but determined "Yes!" echoed through the conference room, marking the moment when his life changed forever. 

The memories continued to unfold before the UA staff. Their eyes widened as Izuku's first steps onto the Marine base came into view. The sheer diversity of beings walking about left them stunned - fishmen, giants, and races they had no names for mingling naturally with humans.

"Is... is that giant even taller than Mount Lady?" Present Mic gaped at a marine who towered over the buildings.

The scene shifted to show a young Izuku being handed his first notebook by a blue-haired female marine. His eyes sparkled with the same analytical intensity they'd seen earlier as he immediately began documenting everything around him.

"Young Midoriya, you mentioned recording everything you saw," Nezu commented, watching as page after page filled with detailed observations. "But seeing it in action is truly remarkable."

The memory flowed to the training grounds, where marines of all shapes and sizes were conducting drills. Midnight shifted in her seat, fanning herself. "Oh my... such dedicated young men training so diligently..."

They watched as Kage, who had apparently ignored everyone else at the base, chose to follow young Izuku around. Present day Kage purred smugly at the memory.

The scene changed again, showing a stern-faced man in a hat Bogard, Garp's right-hand man - leading Izuku to meet three imposing figures.

Finally, they reached an imposing door. Bogard knocked once before opening it, revealing a spacious office where four figures waited.

Garp stood near the window, his usual grin replaced by an uncharacteristically serious expression. Beside him sat three individuals whose mere presence seemed to fill the room with authority.

"Midoriya-kun," Garp said, "I'd like you to meet some people."

UA Staff Reaction
A tangible tension settled in Principle Nezu’s office. For a moment, the teachers felt as if they themselves were standing before the highest authorities of another world. All Might’s eyes narrowed, recognizing the gravity of being summoned by someone like Garp, and even Aizawa unconsciously straightened in his seat.

Present Mic muttered, “That’s some serious energy in that room. I’d need my best suit just to survive standing there…”

Nezu, ever the observer, jotted a note: Leadership presence transcends universes. How would our students fare in such a room?

Memory
The first to step forward was a man wearing circular glasses and a braided beard, his white coat adorned with epaulettes bearing seagull designs. "Fleet Admiral Sengoku," he introduced himself, his keen eyes studying Izuku with interest.

Next was an elderly woman, her sharp gaze reminding Izuku somehow of Recovery Girl. "Vice Admiral Tsuru," she said simply, but there was a gentleness beneath her stern exterior.

Finally, a powerfully built man with graying hair stepped forward. "Commander-in-Chief Kong," he stated, his voice carrying the weight of absolute authority.

Izuku bowed deeply, his heart hammering in his chest. "I-Izuku Midoriya! It's an honor to meet you all!"

UA Staff Reaction
Recovery Girl smiled at the comparison to Tsuru, her eyes gleaming with pride at the respect the boy showed. “He knows how to make a first impression, at least,” she murmured.

Vlad King grunted, “Those top brass types… even just watching, you can feel the pressure.”

Snipe, arms folded, commented, “Shows respect, but doesn’t let fear stop him. That’s the mark of someone who’s learned from real hardship.”

All Might’s chest swelled with quiet pride. The boy who once stammered before heroes now stood before legends.

Memory
"Please, have a seat," Kong gestured to an empty chair. As Izuku settled nervously into it, the tiger cat repositioned itself more comfortably in his hair, drawing a raised eyebrow from Tsuru.

"Garp has told us some... interesting things about you, young man," Kong continued. "About where you come from. But we'd like to hear it from you directly. And perhaps..." he gestured to the phone still clutched in Izuku's hand, "see some of this evidence of your world that Garp mentioned."

Izuku's hands trembled slightly as he unlocked his phone. This wasn't like showing Koby and Helmeppo – these were the highest-ranking officials in the Marines. His future in this world might depend on convincing them of his story.

UA Staff Reaction
The room at UA held its breath. Power Loader whispered, “That’s what you call being put on the spot.”

Nezu, ever the tactician, noted, “Notice how quickly they move from introductions to investigation. They’re not wasting time with pleasantries.”

Midnight watched the tiger cat with amusement, “Even in other worlds, a companion’s approval means something.”

Aizawa, seeing Izuku’s trembling hands, felt a pang of empathy. “He’s scared, but he does it anyway. That’s courage.”

Memory
But as he began to speak, to show them images of his world, he found an unexpected ally. The tiger cat's warm presence on his head, its gentle purring, helped steady his nerves. And more than that he noticed how the others in the room seemed to take the cat's acceptance of him as some sort of positive sign.

The high-ranking Marines leaned forward with increasing interest as Izuku showed them his world. Sengoku's eyes narrowed thoughtfully at the footage of All Might's feats. Tsuru made contemplative noises at the explanations of hero society and quirk regulations. Kong's expression grew particularly intense when Izuku demonstrated his phone's various capabilities.

"Even Dr. Vegapunk has nothing quite like this," Garp muttered, watching Izuku pull up archived hero fight analyses.

UA Staff Reaction
The faculty watched the memory with growing fascination. Power Loader almost jumped to his feet. “The tech gap—just imagine if we could get a look at that phone!”

All Might’s face softened at the sight of his old exploits and the awe they inspired even in a world of pirates and marines.

Midnight mused, “He’s showing them hero society and regulations he’s not just trying to impress; he’s teaching.”

Principal Nezu’s eyes sparkled as he saw the Marines’ interest. “He’s bridging two worlds. This, dear colleagues, is diplomacy in its purest form.”

Snipe chuckled, “And the cat’s basically his character reference.”

Memory
"Speaking of analysis..." Tsuru spoke up, gesturing to the notebook in Izuku's lap. "I noticed you've already begun studying our world with the same... thoroughness you applied to your hero observations."

Izuku blushed. "I... I just find everything here so fascinating! The way different species coexist, the architectural adaptations, the military hierarchy, the fighting styles I've glimpsed..." He ducked his head. "Sorry, I tend to get carried away..."

"Don't apologize," Sengoku said firmly. "That kind of analytical mind is exactly what the Marines need more of."

The implications of that statement hung in the air. Izuku's heart skipped a beat as he realized what might be happening. These weren't just introductions – this was an evaluation.

UA Staff Reaction
Aizawa’s lips curled in the faintest of smiles. “A keened mind that's always watching, always learning.”

Nezu leaned forward, tail twitching. “Young man, you’ve made your curiosity into a strength. That’s rare.”

Power Loader nodded, “His observations are meticulous. He could write whole textbooks from his notes alone.”

Midnight grinned. “His passion is infectious. Look at how even these hardened leaders are taking notice.”

All Might’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “I told him not to dream, but here he is being praised for the very thing he was once mocked for.”

Nezu asked, voice gentle but probing, “Midoriya, was it instinct that drove you to analyze everything, or did you hope perhaps unconsciously that your understanding could help others adjust, just as it helped you?”

Izuku’s memory-self stammered, “Both, I think. At first, it was to survive, but then… I wanted to help others too.”

The faculty exchanged knowing nods. Recovery Girl patted Aizawa’s shoulder. “His empathy is as sharp as his mind.”

Memory
"Tell me, young Midoriya," Kong leaned forward, his presence filling the room, "what do you want to do with yourself in this world?"

The question echoed in Izuku's mind, bringing with it memories of another time someone had asked about his dreams. But this time, there was no dismissal in their eyes. No pity. Just genuine interest in his answer.

The tiger cat's tail swished encouragingly against his neck as Izuku straightened his spine and met Kong's gaze directly.

"I want to help people," he said, his voice growing stronger with each word. "In my world, they said I couldn't be a hero without a quirk. But here..." His hand tightened around his notebook. "Here, maybe I can prove them wrong. Maybe I can show that analysis, strategy, and determination can be just as powerful as any quirk or Devil Fruit."

A smile small but genuine crossed Kong's face. "Well then, Midoriya-kun. I believe we have much to discuss about your future with the Marines."

UA Staff Reaction
A hush fell over the UA conference room. For once, even Present Mic had nothing to add.

All Might’s shoulders shook with little sadness, but this time with a hint of pride. “I really messed up and lost the perfect one,” he whispered.

Nezu’s voice was soft, full of respect. “He faced the same question that once broke him—yet now he answers with clarity and conviction. That’s growth.”

Aizawa’s expression relaxed entirely. “He’s found his place. And it’s not the power that matters—it’s the resolve.”

Recovery Girl dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. “He’s teaching us all something important, isn’t he?”

Memory
The walk back to the barracks was a blur of excitement and nervous energy. Izuku's mind raced with everything that had just happened – meeting the highest-ranking officials in the Marines, sharing his story, and potentially having a path forward in this new world.

"So?" Koby practically bounced off his bunk when Izuku entered their shared room. "How did it go?"

Helmeppo tried to appear more casual, but his curiosity was just as evident. "Did they believe you about... you know, everything?"

Izuku collapsed onto his bed, the Kage gracefully hopping down to curl up beside him. "They did! And..." he sat up, eyes shining, "Vice Admiral Garp and Bogard-san are going to help train me!"

"That's amazing!" Koby exclaimed. "Though... maybe a bit terrifying. Garp-san's training methods are, um..."

"Insane," Helmeppo finished flatly. "The old man's completely bonkers."

Izuku laughed nervously, remembering Garp's enthusiastic mentions of throwing things. "Well, whatever it takes to get stronger, right? And they said I'll need lots of other lessons too – navigation, Marine protocols, history..."

The three spent the rest of the evening discussing what Izuku's training might entail, with Koby and Helmeppo sharing their own experiences and offering advice. Kage listened with what seemed like amused interest.

UA Staff Reaction
The staff at UA relaxed as the memory shifted to something lighter. Present Mic grinned, “Nothing bonds comrades like surviving insane training together.”

Vlad King nodded approvingly. “He’s found his people. That’s how you grow.”

Midnight laughed. “I’d like to see Garp’s lesson plan. I bet it’s… creative.”

Power Loader scribbled, “Peer support is a universal constant. Good.”

All Might watched the camaraderie with a bittersweet smile proud of the young man who’d learned to find and build new families wherever he went.

Memory
One Week Later

The same office that had hosted their first meeting now contained a spread of training schedules and curriculum plans. Izuku stood at attention, trying not to fidget as Garp, Bogard, Tsuru, and Sengoku finalized the details of his development program.

"The boy's physical conditioning needs to be our first priority," Garp declared, punching one fist into his palm. "Can't build advanced techniques on a weak foundation!"

Bogard nodded in agreement. "His sword training will begin with basic forms and stances. His analytical mind should help him grasp the principles quickly, but his body will need time to develop the necessary muscle memory."

"And between those sessions," Tsuru added, reviewing a sheet of paper, "we'll ensure he receives a thorough education in Marine operations, navigation, and tactical theory. Your detailed notes show promise, Midoriya-kun, but they need structure and context."

"We'll also need to establish a cover story," Sengoku reminded them. "As far as anyone outside this room is concerned, you're a promising recruit that Garp discovered during his travels. Nothing more."

Izuku absorbed it all, scribbling frantically in his notebook. The tiger cat, which hadn't left his side all week, watched the proceedings with those same knowing eyes.

"Thank you all," Izuku said earnestly. "I promise I won't let you down!"

Garp's booming laugh filled the room. "Save that enthusiasm for tomorrow morning, kid! We start at dawn – hope you're ready for some cannonball exercises!"

The color drained slightly from Izuku's face, but his determined expression didn't waver. This was his chance to prove himself, to become someone who could help others in this new world. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he would face them head-on.

As they left the office, Bogard held him back for a moment. "Remember," the stoic swordsman said quietly, "strength isn't just about physical power. Your greatest asset is this." He tapped Izuku's notebook. "Keep observing, keep analyzing. We'll help you transform that knowledge into action."

The tiger cat purred its agreement, and Izuku clutched his notebook tighter. Tomorrow, his real training would begin.

UA Staff Reaction
There was a collective sigh in Nezu’s office. Every faculty member recognized the structure and care so different from what Izuku had known before.

Nezu’s voice was proud, “They saw him. Not just as a survivor, or a curiosity, but as someone full of potential. They didn’t just test him they invested in him.”

Aizawa nodded, “He’s finally where he belongs. Surrounded by people who understand how to challenge and support him.”

All Might’s eyes glistened. “He’s become the kind of hero I always hoped to be but in his own way.”

Present Mic threw his arms wide. “If that’s not growth, I don’t know what is!”

Midnight smiled warmly. “I think UA has a lot to learn from the Marines and from Midoriya’s journey.” hearing midnights statement all Izuku can do is lower his head. In his head Izuku thought I hope they are ready for the dark side of what he has seen. 

Principal Nezu closed his notebook and looked around at his staff. “Let’s make sure UA never lets another child with this much heart slip through the cracks. Agreed?”

A chorus of agreement echoed, the staff united in their resolve. As the memory faded, Izuku looked up from the device, the support of two worlds now firmly beneath his feet.