Chapter Text
“Midoriya? Are you hearing me?” Izuku looked up to see a man with dark hair and tired eyes speaking to him. What was he doing here? He was just in a fight against the heroes, and now he’s… here, wherever here was. But this man knew his name, so he’d do well to respond.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Could you repeat yourself?”
The man groaned, before repeating himself. “I asked why you were sleeping in my class. This is the hero course; you shouldn’t be slacking off.”
The… hero course? Did he hear that right? No, that couldn’t be right. He was a villain. A well known one, at that. Most people knew what he looked like, if not only his name. And this man, who he’d never met before had said his name and looked in his eyes, with no fear. In fact, he looked a little… concerned? Which was a weird thing to feel for a villain.
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” That should keep this man off his back for a while, and keep him from sounding suspicious, since this man obviously doesn’t know he’s a villain and evidently thinks he knows him. It looks to have satisfied him, at least.
Unless.
Unless something happened. Unless he wasn’t himself anymore, not truly, not here. He was fighting someone, and in the age of quirks, he wouldn’t put it past them to use their quirk (by accident or on purpose) and send him here. He needed to figure out where he was so he could get back to the League. Looking around, he saw the too-bright lights of the ceiling, and… he recognized the halls. It was none other than the top hero school in Japan. Yuuei High School.
No. No. No. No no no no nononononono this can’t be happening if he’s here then that meansbakugoistooandthatmeanshesnotsafe-
The bell rings. He’s trying to form a plan. How does he get back? Where is he supposed to go next? He doesn’t know. Luckily, he doesn’t have to, apparently.
“Midoriya, please stay behind. I’d like to talk to you before you go on to Present Mic’s class.”
Izuku made his way up to this man’s desk, and heard a boy with yellow hair and a strike of black - who he recognized from watching the sports festival as… Denko? Denki? - say “Good luck, Midoriya-kun. You’re totally gonna get in trouble with Aizawa-Sensei.”
Aizawa. So that was his name. Good to know. He put that in his back pocket, in case he needed it later.
Aizawa-sensei was silent for a while, before sighing and saying, “Have you been sleeping well, Midoriya?”
What should he say? He’s not the Midoriya that this teacher thinks he is, is he? He could say yes, brush it off, but was that something this Midoriya would do? If he said no, it was the safest option for him. He could possibly get sent home or something - though he doubted it - and if he did, he could have a bit of time to himself to sort things out.
And maybe sleep. Sleep sounds really good right about now.
“Honestly, no, I haven’t been, Sensei. I’m sorry I fell asleep in your class.”
Aizawa sighed, seemingly deep in thought, before saying, “Go back to your dorm and sleep, Midoriya. The bags under your eyes are starting to rival mine, don’t think I haven't noticed.”
A beat, and Izuku thinks he should chime in, say something, but-
“Do you want me to escort you? You look ready to collapse.”
It’s an easy lie. He nods, but it hurts his head to move it. Maybe he really is about to collapse. He doesn’t even register closing his eyes before his head hits the floor.
He wakes up in a room he knows he’s never been in before, but it feels familiar all the same. Maybe it’s the dozens of All Might things everywhere (and that totally doesn’t creep him out), maybe it’s the bedsheets he knew he had at one point, a little more worn down then when he last saw it. Whatever it is, it sure as hell doesn’t help him figure out where he is.
He sits up slowly. His head still hurts, a dull ache that he just knows is going to stay for a while. He should look for some painkillers. He pulls the blanket off of him, and explores the room. There’s a bed, a desk, and a bathroom. It’s fairly bare, all things considered, but makes up for it with all of the All Might things.
There’s All Might posters, All Might figurines, All Might books. Everywhere he looks, all he sees is All Might, All Might, and look! More All Might. It reminds him of before.
He runs through his fight again, trying to remember any clues that might lead him to where he is now, but all it does is make his headache worse. He really needs to find the painkillers before he passes out again. What he also needs is the facts.
He takes a notebook from the desk, titled “Hero Analysis for the Future: No. 14” and opens to a blank page. Here’s what he knows:
- He was fighting a hero with an unknown quirk.
- He was punched against a wall, then blacked out.
- When he woke up, he woke up in Yuuei, asleep on a desk.
- A teacher woke him up and called him by his name.
- Said teacher thinks he’s a hero student, along with his ‘classmates’ (?)
- He’s in a place that’s not his room, but has all his stuff from…
- He was wearing different clothes then from when he passed out initially.
- Some sort of itchy uniform, probably for Yuuei.
What did all this mean? Well, there were a couple of things that could be going on.
- He died and he’s in hell.
- He was teleported into another Midoriya’s body who happens to share the same name as him and is a hero student and also happens to look just like him (probably not likely, now that he thinks about it)
- He got hit by a quirk that caused him to sort of… switch realities?
Of all the possibilities, the last was the most likely, no matter how outlandish. If that was true, it meant there was no villain Izuku in this reality, which was great news. Probably. Hopefully. It meant he could do what he was doing before without as much suspicion, and actually go places without a disguise! He just needed to figure out how to get in contact with the league, to let them know that he was on their side.
He thought about just texting them, but there’s the possibility that Nezu could track that through the wifi, and he didn’t know if there were security cameras around. Even if there weren’t, he wouldn’t want to risk himself being overheard during a call, so the only option would be to seek them out or buy a burner phone entirely for one use. He doesn’t know how much money this Midoriya has, so he’ll have to go snooping around, and that’s also just generally a problem for later.
He should go seek them out. It’s the safest bet, and since he knows where the new hideout is, he could get there easily. Assuming it’s in the same spot, of course, but he doesn’t think much has changed from reality to reality.
He steps over to the door to outside the room. He has no clue what anything looks like and he’s going to look stupid trying to navigate around, probably. He takes a deep breath and puts his hand on the doorknob, turning it slowly and opening it.
He would have stepped out, but there was something in his way.
Someone, to be precise.
Aizawa-sensei was at his door, fist raised as if about to knock.
They both opened their mouths to say something, but Izuku spoke first. “Can I help you, Sensei?”
“I was sent by Recovery Girl to check up on you. Apparently, she didn’t want any of the students coming up and doing it for me. Do you need anything?”
This was his chance. “I’m fine, but I have a pretty bad headache. Maybe some painkillers?” He laughs while scratching at his neck, trying to look sheepish.
Aizawa-sensei nods. “I’ll send someone up to get you some painkillers, water, and some food. You need something in your stomach if you can handle it.”
Izuku nods, saying, “I’ll be able to stomach it. Thank you, Sensei.” He closed the door and sighed, going back to ‘his’ bed. He’ll get some painkillers, and hopefully he can figure out everything else from there. Without his headache, it’ll be easier to decide what his next steps are.
It wasn’t long before he heard another knock on the door. He opened it again, and was met this time with who appeared to be Ingenium’s brother. His name was Iida Tenya, if he remembered correctly. This time, however, Iida spoke before Izuku could get a word out.
“Aizawa-sensei informed me to bring these to you!” He held out his hands, shoving a plastic grocery bag into Izuku’s hands. Izuku was pushed by the force of it, staggering back. “Please make sure to hydrate and nourish yourself! It is necessary for returning to your best self!”
“Oh, uh, thanks, Iida,” Izuku managed to sputter out, still a bit shaken from Iida’s… personality. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the date?”
“Today is September 19!” He says, waving his hand around wildly. He looks like a robot. “7:23 in the afternoon, to be exact! Is there anything else I can help you with? As class president, it is my duty to-”
Iida was cut off by a door slamming in his face, and a half-audible “sorry! Thanks!” (what’s the polite thing????)
Izuku turned around, going through the bag’s contents himself. Aizawa wasn’t lying; the bag had 5 painkillers in a ziplock bag, (why not just give him the entire bottle?), two bottles of water, and a bento box. He only needed the painkillers and water, because he wasn’t hungry. Taking a pill out of the bag and opening a bottle, he sat down on the side of the bed, took the pill, and waited for his headache to subside. It didn’t take long.
With his head now clear and pain free, he started to come up with some options to get to the league. Opening the notebook again, he took a pencil and started writing.
OPTION ONE: He just leaves. Opens the door and leaves. Pros, it's probably the fastest option. Cons, lowest success rate - high chance of getting caught.
OPTION TWO: He asks to go off campus and makes up some kind of excuse for it. Pros, highest success rate. Cons, he doesn’t know if he’ll need some kind of escort when he’s out. Hopefully he doesn’t.
He can’t manage to come up with any more options before his stomach rumbles. Maybe he should take a break and eat. He is still human, after all.
He goes to the bathroom to wash his hands before he eats. There’s a mirror above the sink. His reflection stares back at him and it looks so wrong. He looks shorter. His hair is shorter. The scar above his eye is gone. Instead, it’s replaced by more freckles than he can count. He’s more muscular than he should be.
His attention was drawn to long white scars along his arms and stomach. Guess some things never change, huh?
He lifted a hand, slowly, and the reflection followed, but the angle was all wrong, like whoever was mimicking him didn’t actually know how his shoulder moved. He sees a version of himself who looks like he belongs here, but he doesn’t.
Oh.
So he wasn’t transported somewhere else. He is someone else.
He really needs to figure out how to get out of here, preferably fast.
But…
His eyes hurt. They were dry, and itchy.
Laying down for a minute…
Couldn’t…
Hurt…