Chapter Text
Chapter One: The Same Old Beginning
On the train ride to the UA entrance exam, Izuku slumped forward with his head in his hands. Tears of joy and grief trickled down his face. He couldn’t contain them if he tried.
He lived a great life.
He was thankful to see his grandchildren grow into young adults and could still remember their weight in his arms.
His kids’ tears dripping onto his wrinkled, papery skin as they said their final goodbyes.
Momo grew old together with him. She held his hand as he passed away from old age – surrounded by family who were quick to comfort her when he couldn’t voice “I love you” despite trying.
He clenched his hand into a fist – the hand she held as he died, trying to hold onto the moment even a few seconds longer.
That life was a blessing. He’d take it!
Many times, a full life was not in the cards for Midoriya Izuku. He’d die young doing something heroic. Or caught up in something or other off duty. Or blindsided by an All for One thug in his teenage years. Or other enemies he had made along the way from simply being a hero and doing his job.
These lifetimes filled with joy, like the life he had awoken from on the ever-familiar train ride to UA, helped Izuku to keep on going. It made the endless cycles of life and death bearable.
People on the train looked at him funny while his eyes leaked torrents, but he paid them little attention. The guy next to him shifted uncomfortably, awkwardly wondering if he should comfort him or choose another seat entirely. Another teen his age, also on his way to the entrance exam, scoffed at the display of emotions – casting judgement to avoid examining his own nerves. Many pointedly looked away, hoping if they ignored him it wasn’t happening.
Good. Others’ selfishness allowed him time to collect himself.
He allowed himself until the train stopped at his destination for mourning the loss of his previous life before composing himself to face the challenge ahead.
Izuku wiped his eyes, smacked his cheeks, smiled brightly, and stepped forth towards his destiny.
He was ready.
The cool thing about looping was his skill level in various things stayed with him. One for All? Mastered it. Cooking? He could be a top chef if he wanted. Engineering support equipment? He made Mei’s mad genius look mild. Writing? He could be a best seller. Art? His pieces would sell for absurd amounts. Name it and he had a degree in it at some point. Don’t even get him started on scientific breakthroughs he could document if he chose to do so.
This loop, he was doing something he hadn’t done before. His lovely Momo helped him prepare (of course she did, she was the perfect spouse, beautiful inside and out, so incredibly intelligent…yeah, he should stop living in the past and focus on walking to the testing room).
He never tried his hand in the music industry. It would obviously be more of a side job than anything else.
He had to be a hero first and foremost. It really was non-negotiable.
The biggest curse of the loops was him consistently waking up on the train ride to the entrance exam with One for All. No givsies-backsies.
It wasn’t like he would ever turn villain (he had to keep his morals or he’d go insane), but it would be nice to loop back even a few hours sooner to decline the quirk and live a completely different life away from heroics. Ya know, change it up a bit. Be ordinary.
But he could never do that to All Might. All Might trusted him with legacy. He would never want to disappoint his mentor regardless of the man’s many faults. That impossibly goofy and wonderful man always had unwavering belief in Izuku throughout each life.
Izuku tried to give the quirk away one loop to lead a normal life; however, with the quirk hitting singularity Mirio died within a year from the backlash. Izuku would never forget the smile that turned grimace on Mirio’s face as his skin cracked open, turning to dust from power overloading a body that could no longer contain it. In his final moments, that smile tried to comfort Izuku and let him know it wasn’t his fault, that he shouldn’t carry the blame, but Izuku knew the truth.
He killed Mirio.
It took him years of therapy to be able to look at Mirio without feeling the crushing weight of guilt.
Never again would he burden another. Lesson learned.
Izuku was the final wielder of One for All… for All Time (he made that up, that is not a thing, stop trying to make it a thing).
And Izuku used to love heroics. He still does to a certain extent. It’s just… He’s lived a lot of lives and been a hero for all of them. Disillusionment was a steep hill he’d continue to climb up and slip down, probably forever.
He needed to switch things up each loop to avoid the weight of timelessness. Like being a hero AND a musician. Marrying someone different. Picking a different hero name. Winning certain fights in a variety of ways.
And this time, Izuku would sell all his hero merch and collectibles so he’d have enough money to buy instruments, recording equipment, and a variety of other supplies he would need to launch his side gig in style.
Momo helped him plan it all out. Hired the best musical tutors. She even helped him with song lyrics. He decided he would sing everything in English too, just because he felt a little rebellious towards social norms.
It would be epic.
He flew through the written test, barely paying attention to the questions (they never changed). He went to the waiting room for the physical exam with his nose stuck in his phone already posting his hero merch for sale on official websites. He already knew Sir Nighteye would buy most of the rare merch at top price, and he chuckled when the familiar username of ‘THEAllMightFan’ placed high bids not many would attempt to match. His merch was in pristine condition and would be more than enough to buy the musical equipment and instruments needed.
He knew he had already caught Nezu’s eye by finishing the supposedly challenging exam in record time, so he signed up at the camera using hero coded sign language.
‘Nezu, has the tea gone cold before it was poured? Need 4 days to compile intel. Invite All Might, Torino, Tsukauchi, Eraserhead, Endeavor, Nighteye.’ He used their specific call signs that only trained heroes should know. ‘5 hours minimum required time for briefing.’ He hesitated but decided he really didn’t care about much anymore. ‘Present Mic, Midnight, Ingenium, other UA Hero Staff, acceptable additions, but not required.’
He nodded at the camera when the red light blinked three times in acknowledgement, then went back to posting more of his hero merch for the items he had corresponding pictures for on his camera roll. He’d add the rest later.
***
“Yagi-san,” Nezu said in a confused tone. “Has the tea gone cold before it was poured?”
Yagi Toshinori, the man known as All Might, looked at the tiny rodent principal of UA with a quirked eyebrow. Aizawa Shouta, also known as Eraserhead, was slouched in a corner in his sleeping bag, but jolted upright at the question Nezu asked, staring intently at the principal.
“No?” He responded lightly with a crooked smile, uncertain where Nezu was going with it. He sipped his tea to make sure it was still warm.
Nezu’s whiskers twitched in intrigue.
“Interesting,” Nezu said. “Midoriya Izuku signed a code phrase I created years ago. He used hero sign.”
All Might gulped nervously.
“This code phrase means?” All Might asked warily, not even touching the question of how his mentee knew hero sign. He didn’t teach him that.
Nezu looked pointedly around the room at the many occupants ready to watch the examinees during the practical, then back at All Might. It seemed like Nezu was okay with Aizawa’s attention to the conversation, but not everyone in the room.
“Ah, understood,” All Might said with a seriousness reserved for moments of discretion. He casually searched the monitors for Young Midoriya to try solving the puzzle.
When he spotted his successor, he coughed up blood from shock.
Midoriya’s appearance was the same physically (messy green hair, green eyes, short), but whatever change his successor had undergone in a mere few hours of seeing him last had changed everything else about him.
The nervous, stuttering boy, hunched in on himself with more anxiety than a cat going to the vets was nowhere in sight. He stood tall, confident, no muttering. He was the calm before the storm in a sea of nervous children. His presence had eyes gravitate to him as the most interesting in the group. The other examinees looked at him, sized him up, and decided one spot was already a given for the hero course to their chagrin. It was like he was a completely different boy than the one Toshinori had come to know over the past ten months.
“Young Mid –,” he cut himself off, looking around nervously. He didn’t want to be accused of favoritism, but Aizawa squinted at him suspiciously at him, at the screen he was looking at, and back again. All Might simply nodded at the man because clearly Nezu trusted him enough to be okay with him overhearing. Aizawa locked onto the screen, and no one else paid attention to All Might’s blunder over the noise of their own chatter. He glued his eyes back to the screen focused on Midoriya.
As soon as Present Mic started talking, Izuku began bouncing back and forth on his feet, hyping himself up, ready to move. The people around him sneered, but he didn’t spare them a glance. His energy was infectious, though, and he could see the other examinees taking a ready stance to match the energy of the top competitor in the room.
As soon as the gates opened, he became a blur of electric green lightning.
“Slowing down camera 113,” Nezu muttered. His successor came into focus, making it easier to observe.
Izuku made it to the center of the mock city within 15 seconds knocking out a one-pointer and two-pointer on the way. As soon as he arrived, he took out a cluster of four three-pointers from behind. A quick scan of the area, and he moved onto a street loaded with robots who locked onto him. They all launched projectiles, such as nets and rubber pellets, at him from various directions, and he deftly dodged them all, power hopped to the sky, then landed on a three-pointer. He instantly crushed it. He hopped from robot to robot with ease, racking up 33 points by the time other examinees reached the area. His eyes were constantly on a swivel, scanning his surroundings.
There was a method to which robots Izuku took out. He thinned out larger clusters, then moved on. He left points behind for other examinees while also making it safer for them so they would be less likely to be overwhelmed. He knew his protégé was smart, but this spoke of experience.
All Might stared at the screen with his mouth hanging open. He could barely believe his eyes. Midoriya looked like a seasoned professional. He was not the green boy who never worked out a day in his life before meeting him. He connected the dots and instantly realized whatever code Midoriya gave Nezu would explain his unexpected performance, but that would have to wait for fewer ears.
Aizawa hummed in interest at Midoriya, before moving onto examining the others. His blood shot eyes darted back frequently to his successor’s screen, though, like he was trying to reconcile what he saw on screen with his knowledge of Nezu’s code. The baggy eyed, hobo looking man only looked more certain the more he glanced at Izuku.
Meanwhile, Izuku kept his eye on the other examinees and assisted whenever situations looked precarious. One girl was focused on the robot in front of her, completely missing the robot creeping up behind her. Izuku smashed its interface before it could reach the girl, with quick words of advice (“Keep an eye on your back!”) before racing off to someone else who tripped as a robot swung down on them. He snapped its arm easily and destroyed the interface. He immediately turned around, helped the guy back to his feet, and checked him for injuries before moving on to the next rescue.
“This kid…” Powerloader said while looking at Izuku’s screen. “He’s going to turn the zero pointer to scrap metal, isn’t he?”
“That’s why they’re made, right?” Midnight said teasingly.
“Zero pointers usually come out unscathed. There hasn’t been one obliterated in the practical exams for as long as I’ve worked here,” he reminded everyone in the viewing room.
Nezu cackled, “We’ll see if he has restraint, but if he has to save someone…” He left it hanging for them to draw their own conclusions.
Everyone in the room collectively shuddered.
“At least he’s making my job easy,” Cementoss muttered, noticing Izuku stop a three-pointer from wrecking a building where it was locked onto another examinee who tried taking refuge inside the building.
“There is that,” Aizawa said pointing at Izuku’s screen, “then there is this,” as he pointed to a teen with an explosion quirk who looked sadistically happy destroying the robots without care for others around him.
Both were powerful, but only one moved like a pro.
All Might couldn’t help but agree with Aizawa. Young Midoriya looked professionally trained whereas the explosion kid was in major need of refinement and redirection. The stark contrast brought even more confusion to him. Izuku looked as if he could step into the field at a moment’s notice. The only training Toshinori had given him was strength and endurance – no combat drills, no rescue scenarios, no quirk refinement. He already knew Izuku was different from the first few minutes; however, the comparison to green teens vs. Izuku. It made the uncertainty settle heavy in his chest. He had to wipe his brow from the sweat that started gathering across his forehead.
He trusted his successor.
So, what had happened to him?
***
Izuku was vibing while doing hero things on autopilot, fully aware of the chaos he unleashed via Nezu.
While All Might, Aizawa-sensei, and Nezu-sensei silently freaked out in the viewing hub, Izuku continued his strategy of taking out enough robots to thin the herd and keeping a watch on the other examinees. He did this while slowly making his way towards the zero-pointer spawn point to help those in the immediate area escape any collateral damage.
He timed his arrival perfectly, making it just in time to punch the falling slab of concrete into dust that would have pinned Ochaco-chan.
She was rooted in her spot from shock, so Izuku grabbed her shoulders and shook them lightly.
“We need to move,” Izuku said urgently to snap her out of it. He went to pick her up, but that seemed to have snapped her out of it.
“I’m good, thanks!” She stammered with a flush rising to her cheeks. She took off, running towards the entrance. Izuku knew she would be okay, so he baited the giant robot away from the entrance and the other examinees. He used its large metallic feet to crush any remaining robots on his route while it mindlessly stomped after him (he could hear a phantom Nezu cackling). He made sure to keep it to wide streets for minimal property damage.
The buzzer went off, indicating the end of the exam and the zero pointer came to a stop. Izuku stared down its robot eye to make sure the it wasn’t going to pull a fast one. When it was a safe time for double checking something Nezu had a hand in making, Izuku casually made his way to the entrance in no rush.
He knew he was swaggering, but what else would anyone in his shoes do? His confidence was earned.
When he arrived, some examinees looked at him with barely concealed awe, while others looked annoyed at being in the same testing center as him. Being in his testing center should have been easier for people to accumulate points, but he wasn’t going to point it out and be “that guy.”
He left the mock city, boarded the bus, and checked on the bids for his hero merch without really acknowledging anyone – there was only so much “that was amazing” and you’re so cool” a person could take before it became background noise. He smiled when he saw he already had enough money for half the equipment he needed for his burgeoning musical adventure. Not bad, but he knew someone would keep trying to up the bid forcing Nighteye to respond in kind. He’d let the foresight hero pay for his new equipment, no problem.
When the bus arrived back on the main campus, Izuku hung back waiting for the bus to empty, so he’d be the last to exit.
As predicted, Aizawa-sensei stepped out of the shadow.
“Midoriya Izuku, the principal would like meet you,” Aizawa-sensei said.
Izuku sighed and rubbed his forehead.
“I told him I needed four days,” he responded bluntly. “I suppose I can spare ten minutes now.”
Aizawa shot him a look that said, ‘what did you expect.’ What he actually said was, “Alright, I’ll escort you.”
“And stay? You always have this casually curious energy about you whenever something catches your attention.”
“I have never met you before,” Aizawa said with tensed shoulders.
Izuku snorted and shook his head, “Right.”
They walked in silence from that point with Aizawa remaining tense, and Izuku nonchalant until they reached Nezu’s office.
Izuku did not hesitate to open the door and walk in.
“Nezu-sensei,” Izuku complained. “I said I needed four days. Now I’ll have to repeat myself.”
“Ah, Midoryia-san, please have a seat,” Nezu said in greeting. “I think you can understand why I might need a little more information before gathering some of the people you requested.”
“Hello, Yagi-san,” Midoriya nodded at his mentor as he sat down and poured himself some tea. “I figured you would also be here.” He took a sip. When Aizawa closed the door behind him, he said, “Long story short, I’ve been in a time loop for a long time. Resets whenever I die. I always wake up on the train ride to the UA entrance exam when One for All is finished digesting.”
“Ah, so you’re Yagi’s successor,” Nezu said, whiskers twitching excitedly.
Izuku nodded, “I used the code because villain activity will escalate in the next few months starting with an attack on Class 1-A at the USJ to strike at the heart of heroism in Japan. In my original timeline, a good portion of Japan was destroyed.” He tapped his head. “I have all the info.”
He said it all so casually like he was discussing the weather.
Aizawa’s scarf twitched like he wanted to strangle something but didn’t have a good enough reason.
All Might paled to a deathly white.
Nezu’s tail went rigid, his fur bristling.
“Take a breath, senseis. We’ve perfected how to respond without triggering larger events early. Four days is not going to make or break this operation.”
He blinked at them and sipped his tea.
“Young Midoriya…” All Might said with a lost tone. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I will grieve my wife for a few more weeks,” he wiped at his eyes. “But I’ve learned to live in the moment to keep my sanity.” He set his tea down on the table and stood up. “Nezu-sensei, email me. I will take my leave. Have a lovely day.”
Thank you, Midoriya-kun. You’ll hear from me,” Nezu-sensei said, not putting up a fight with him leaving, considering he promised to return with more organized intel.
“Yagi-san, I’ll see you at the meeting as well,” Izuku smiled at him warmly.
“Sounds great, kid,” Yagi replied still trying to wrap his head around the impossibility of what Izuku described.
Aizawa-sensei was still clearly weirded out, so he gave him a formal little bow, before leaving to continue his journey of selling all his collectibles.
Yep, just another predictable first day.