Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Shota wandered aimlessly outside the student dorms, hands outstretched like an acrobat as he balanced on the thin stone slab. He was supposed to drive home with Nemuri and Hizashi, but when he looked behind his seat an hour into the ride only to see his purple-haired friend switching her hero shoes to a different pair of heels that were scarily long in height and filled with black straps, and realized that his friends never planned on going home in the first place but rather tried to trick him into joining them at yet another nightclub, he jumped and rolled out of the car and sprinted back to school property. 

And yes, maybe it was a little impulsive of him to launch himself out of a moving vehicle on the highway, and maybe his friends were justified by screaming his name out because he could have been run over by the speeding truck, but it was worth it in the end. Because there's no way in hell he's going to have a repeat of their last experience there.

It only lasted five minutes before Shota successfully escaped his friends' clutches and got the hell out of there, but he saw enough flashing lights and got enough uncomfortable job offers to scar him for multiple lifetimes. He really doesn't give a rat's ass about what the strippers and pole dancers do with their lives, because hey it's a fuck ton of money and he can see the appeal in getting discounts for the alcohol and food, but he can confidently say it's not the career for him.

And he would have walked the perimeter of the teachers' dorms once he got back a couple hours later but Vlad was playing fetch with his dog- at 7 in the evening, by the way, bloody psychopath- and he didn't feel like becoming a murderer today. Maybe tomorrow. He supposes it was tolerable for now, though, considering he was already planning on checking on the kids.

He can't even count how many times he's had to sprint to the dorm's kitchen after hearing the fire alarm go off only to see a frazzled, post-nightmare Todoroki standing over a melted tea kettle. Actually, he can, it was three times. He's a little concerned at this point, but until he can find out what the symbolism is, he's gonna leave it to Hound Dog. 

But back to his aimless wandering. 

Shota considered himself a decently prepared person, despite how much other people think he sleeps (which is pretty stupid of them, because why would he sleep in-between classes, drink too much coffee, and develop mile-long eyebags if he slept that much?). He always arrived to work on time, he always got his grading done, he always completed Nezu's orders without much struggle- which he considers a pretty respectable accomplishment- and most importantly, he was always at least 99% aware of what was going on at all times.

The only exception was six hours ago when Nezu dropped the vice principal bomb on him... And the last fifteen years when he was apparently also being tested. Actually, that brings him to his original point. He's prepared, he can follow directions, he can do all of that easily but for the love of God, he doesn't know what the fuck he's supposed to do now.

And no, this isn't his usual moral dilemma about how he doesn't know how to help kids with villainous quirks- that's also for tomorrow-, this is him legitimately not knowing what he's supposed to do. Great, he's vice principal, but what does that even mean? This past week was him acting as the principal, but there's no way these two jobs are even remotely alike. Not to mention Nezu was the one who took care of all the paperwork and more professional matters last time just so Shota could properly do his little exam and all his wild course of actions. Things are going to get harder now and he has to properly brace himself for that. 

So what's his new schedule? Is he still training his students with the skills they'll need for the various kinds of problems they'll face as heroes, teaching them quirk laws, proctoring their exams, and monitoring them at secondary locations for simulation training? Or is Nezu going to cut some of them out of his list of responsibilities to make room for his duties as vice principal? And speaking of his role as vice principal, what even is that? Should he start managing his time to make room for any new paperwork or disciplinary actions for students he'll have to take care of? Or is Nezu saving that for when he has more experience?

Will he still be doing courses of action or will he be forced to dial it down? After all, vice principal and principal aren't given nearly the same amount of power- this shouldn't be a surprise to anyone-, and he's going to have certain restrictions that he didn't have before, but he doesn't even know what they are. 

Honestly, part of him is starting to think he should have embraced the Midoriya style and asked more questions while he was still with the rat before just mindlessly accepting the position. Even the smallest detail should have been accounted for, like if he's still allowed to hog the tea packets in his boss' office or if he should start erasing evidence of his theft. Or if he's getting a raise.

He really doesn't care about the money, mostly because if he has two jobs with long hours then there's a good chance he's not going into debt any time soon, and also because he only spends the bare minimum on necessities and hasn't checked his bank account in years since his payment is just automatically transferred, but it'd still be nice to know. Actually, now that he brings it up, did he remember to tell the chimera he accepted the position at all-?

"No, Aizawa-sensei told me this himself,"  I was summoned?  Shota whipped his head to the left, being greeted with the sight of Todoroki, Bakugo, and Midoriya sitting together and discussing lord knows what. Todoroki chewed his pencil and stared down at his notebook as he spoke, Midoriya sprawled across his lap with his arms dangling off the edge of the bench. Bakugo, ever the outlier, sat on the grass beside the bench with a scowl etched on his features, probably because whenever he slapped Midoriya's hands away, they went right back to poke at his hair as the boy muttered 'so spikey yet so fluffy'. The fuck. "He said I should start with getting undeniable evidence if I want to confirm any of my theories,"

"But didn't you say Hound Dog told you to start looking at the root of your familial theories," Bakugo made a cough that sounded suspiciously like 'daddy issues' to which Midoriya yanked a strand of his hair in response, "instead of, you know, developing new ones?"

"Actually, this is one I've been working on since last year's sports festival when Kirishima and Tetsutetsu first fought," The heterochromatic-eyed boy corrected, "and I think I'm doing Aizawa-sensei justice by what I've gathered since then," Oh no, "Both of their quirks require the extreme hardening of their bodies, their eyes, facial structure, costumes, and teeth are practically identical, and both of their hair matches their costumes color scheme. They could most definitely be brothers separated at birth," Bakugo tched,

"Idiot, Tincan's hair is naturally like that, Kirishima's was originally black. Your theory is  most definitely  bullshit," Midoriya gasped at the blonde boy's words,

"Kaachan! You remembered his real name!"

"HAAH?!"

"And you remembered a personal detail about his past appearance!" Midoriya beamed and wiped a fake tear from his eye, but knowing the boy, Shota's not so sure if it was really fake, "I'm so glad you're bonding with your friends!"

"SHUT THE HELL UP, SHITTY NERD!" Bakugo slapped the green-haired boy's scarred hands away from his hair again, but as usual, they came right back, "I'm not bonding with those losers, AND I ALWAYS REMEMBER NAMES!" Midoriya's bright smile morphed into a straight line as all emotion faded from his eyes, and for once Shota could relate to Bakugo's shock at the change. He almost forgot what Hound Dog had instructed the boy to do more often: Express his anger. Not that he's complaining.

"Really? Because in fifth grade when I asked you if you remembered my name or actually thought it was 'Deku' you blanked out for a full minute only to start yelling at me and stop away. You still haven't answered the question, by the way," Silence stretched between them as the explosive blonde sputtered and Midoriya looked at him with cold eyes. But the moment was over as soon as it had started, and like it had never happened, Midoriya was right back to his cheerful self, poking and playing with Bakugo's hair,

"So, Shochan," Bakugo was also back to normal judging by the loud 'tch' that came at the name, "if I call you that then it's only natural you call me Izuchan."

"YOU PIECE OF SHIT-!"

“Bakugo, has your mother ever mentioned having another child? A girl, in particular? One that happens to have blonde hair and a blood-related quirk? And shares your obsession with Mido- my apologies, Izuchan?”

Yeah, Shota doesn't know what the fuck is going on, but curfew isn't for another hour and he sees no harm in letting them stew in each other's weirdness. Even if that weirdness means a few benches get blown up in the process of Bakugo vulgarly denying his ‘obsession’ with Midoriya, claiming ‘I’M NOT THE ONE OBSESSED WITH HIS DAD, ICY HOT!’

Especially if it means he can forget he ever heard this conversation and continue with his principal- VICE principal crisis. Without any hesitation, Shota continued tight roping across the stone slabs, making his second round around the school. 

But yeah, he has no idea what the hell he's doing. And it must be that classic Shota luck that had him get this job at the worst possible time, too. Firstly, they're approaching their second semester, and with it comes the second cycle of work studies. There are students in his class that he knows he doesn't have to worry about- Uraraka, Tsuyu, Tokoyami, and Kirishima- but that just leaves 16 other problem children to take care of. And yes, 16, because sometime this week Shinsou is going to be added to their class and he won't have the kid be left behind either.

Yaoyorozu may have a chance with Fatgum if Shota could lift her self-confidence enough to convince her to apply, as well as stay the hell away from Uwabami, same for Sato. Iida could have another shot with Tensei's old agency so long as he promises not to try and murder anyone anymore. He doesn't know when or how Shoji caught Gang Orca's attention but he did, and for the love of god Shota is gonna force him to hold onto that. And Todoroki... that's another problem.

He, along with Bakugo and Midoriya, worked at the Endeavor agency at the right hand of his father. And while Shota knows they all learned valuable skills at the agency, with new information comes new concerns about whether any of the trio should be encouraged to return.

He doesn't have any undeniable evidence, which he guesses makes him a hypocrite to Todoroki, but Hound Dog's text to him about looking into Enji Todoroki is still engraved in his mind as a mystery he desperately wants to solve. So until that matter is handled, the trio has no candidates for work studies. 

Secondly, it's also bad timing because along with work studies comes the inevitable parent-teacher conferences. He doesn't know when it's going to happen, but he knows it's quickly approaching, and he knows he shouldn't dare look forward to it. Because when you're the teacher to a class of hero students who have been targeted by the LoV multiple times, to the point where one even got kidnapped, you learn to accept the fact that parents are most likely going to hate you.

Nothing bad happened when he visited each parent to sign the permission slips for their child to live in the dorms, but back then he wasn't making comments about their children's behavior, grades, and hero work ethic. And if they're as protective as he assumes, they're going to get overly defensive of their kin. It's tiring, yet understandable, and once again expected. 

He can't rely on the parents he assumed to be meek and kind to take it easy on him, either, if his memory of All Might serves correctly. The poor guy came back to school premises after his meeting with Mrs. Midoriya looking like All for One himself had called him a little bitch and spat on his shoes. What happened to make him look so frazzled and exhausted is a mystery to this day, but anyone who can make the symbol of peace actually frown should be considered a major threat to society. So if one thing's for sure, it's that you don't mess with Midoriya's terrifying parents, which may be possible even an ocean apart. 

Actually, while he's at it, don't mess with Uraraka's parents, because she told a lot of strange stories about them fighting off criminals with their bare hands because they didn't pay their phone bill and therefore couldn't call 110 for help. Don't mess with Tensei, either, because he was the other person that Hizashi and Nemuri recruited to drag him to the night club and as he said before he really doesn't want a repeat of that experience. And don't insult All Might in front of Jirou's father. He won't get a scratch on Shota but the underground hero would feel uncomfortable if the man started sobbing as he defended the former number 1 hero. Especially if Midoriya overheard and joined in.

The point is, he has to be there for his students, and he can't just ditch his responsibilities purely because something more interesting came along. Because what's the use of making improvements to the school if the kids supposed to benefit them are struggling from the problems you've caused in the process? And to avoid that, he needs to organize. So... let's organize.

It’s a little after 7 pm, which gives him 8 hours to plan if he reduces his sleep to a minimum of 5 hours. It was supposed to be 3 hours but lately Recovery Girl and surprisingly Hound Dog have been- well, hounding on him to get a grip on his sleep schedule. 

For the next hour he can create a list of all his previous duties as a regular heroics teacher and underground hero, the new responsibilities he had as the temporary principal, and what jobs he assumes he may have as a vice principal. Then the hour after that he can write their corresponding times right next to them and see where any of his duties overlap, and then proceed to list the overlapping duties from least to greatest in importance.

The scale being ‘Nezu will probably encourage me to avoid this’ to ‘Nezu will probably kill me if I avoid this’. The hour after that is the estimated time that Hizashi and Nemuri will come back, and after filling them in on his position and a little bit of blackmail and bribing, he can convince them to take over some of his respon-

“Kaachan,” Ah fuck, he’s completed another round. Shota once again looked to his left to see the thre- oh. This time instead of the usual troublemaking trio, it was just the two friends-to-enemies-to-rivals-to-five-second-friends-to-emotionally-stunted-classmates-to-whatever-the-fuck-this-is duo.

With Todoroki apparently disappearing out of thin air, Midoriya took over the rest of the bench with his body, using it as a makeshift bed. Bakugo was still slapping away the other boy’s hands from his hair, with repeated failures, but either he was too caught up in whatever they were talking about or too tired to handle loud noises because judging by their surroundings, the blonde hadn’t exploded a single thing. Huh.

“You can’t say Shochan-“

“Fuck you.” Todoroki you dark horse...

“-is obsessed with my dad and use that as a comeback against him when  you’re  the one who built conspiracies against my actual father when-"

"WE WERE FIVE, SHITTY NERD!"

"-we were five about how he apparently had multiple quirks."

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT HE ALWAYS ACTED SO FUCKING SUSPICIOUS!" You know what, Shota might just listen in for this one. The underground hero stepped off the slab to fully face his two students, getting a wave and a small 'Hi Aizawa-senseiiiii' from Midoriya along with a middle finger from Bakugo before the participants turned back to each other to argue again.

"He wasn't suspicious, Kaachan, he was just a little quirky," The green-eyed boy laughed at his own pun, the blonde boy did not.

"He was not  a little quirky ," Bakugo raised the pitch of his voice to mock his classmate, "he was a fucking weirdo. Remember Christmas when my old hag forced me to go to your house when we slept over?"

"Kaachan you're the one who forced her." Shota snorted,

"SHITTY LIAR! Well I woke up in the middle of the night- probably to try and escape from the stupid amount of pre-quirk American movie posters you had in your bedroom- and guess what I saw in your dad's office?"

"Why did you go in my dad's office?"

"FOCUS FOR ONCE, DEKU! I saw him staring at the whiteboard with these weird-ass monsters and human anatomy on them. He kept circling the brain, claws, teeth, and eyeballs and started laughing when he drew red wings on one of them. That shit isn't normal. He's demented. He's evil. He probably runs a trafficking network." Midoriya stared at Bakugo for a long time, contemplating god knows what, before prying himself up from the bench and dusting himself off. As soon as the boy stood up and deemed himself ready to go, he held out a hand to Bakugo,

"Eh? The fuck are you doing" The explosive blonde asked, analyzing the outstretched hand with an unknown expression,

"You're delusional, Kaachan, and frankly I don't know if it's safe to let you return back to your dorm room alone. It's my duty as a hero student and your neighbor to provide you with an escort."

"THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?!"

"Kaachan, please! I forgot my phone back in my room! I can't call life alert in the worst-case scenario that you try chasing a butterfly and accidentally jump off your balcony!"

"YOU KNOW WHAT-!"

Ah, and this is Shota's cue to continue his stride and hope that neither of his students dies and, like Midoriya said, safely make it back to their dorm rooms. Actually, now that he thinks about it, why are they outside in the first place? He knows they were discussing theories with each other earlier in the cafeteria, but to continue the horrible sharing of ideas so close to curfew?

Besides, it's close to Bakugo's usual bedtime and Midoriya knows full well his own position as secretary is permanent now and that he's going to need to be fully awake to understand the changes to his schedule. So what is he still doing outsi-

Shit.

The third reason for why this is the worst time to not know what he's doing is that he made the stupid choice of not telling Midoriya earlier that his position would be permanent from now on. He didn't tell him about the classes they would be cutting out, the lessons he hopefully won't get from Nezu but should still be wary of, or even how they still need his permission to do all of this.

Instead, Shota chose to make vague comments about it- like a bitch- and assume the kid would just figure it out at one point or another. And if his analysis skills are anything to go by, he really might have. But just to be safe, Shota should probably double back and inform him anyway-

Shit again.

Bakugo's there. He can't tell Midoriya when there are other people around that could overhear. At least not right away. He can't tell Nemuri or Hizashi and ask them for help, either. In reality, no one can be aware that he's vice principal except for himself, Nezu, and Midoriya. Because no matter how much he trusts his friends, students, and coworkers, they are still the most untrustworthy people in the entire world.

If he told Nemuri she would tell Thirteen, and Thirteen would scream it during one of the simulation training sessions, Ashido and Kaminari would feel the need to either cry or make memes about it, and while all of this is happening, the hero commission would finally get a hold of it. And sure, he knows they have to find out at some point, but like Nezu said he has to prove himself first. And to do that, he has to make sure they don't know he's trying to.

...Okay, yeah, that was confusing as hell and he's going to reiterate.

The commission doesn't like him. Never have, never will, and the only reason they tolerate his presence is that he gets his job done and his former students get their jobs done. There's probably a lot of reasons to justify their dissatisfaction with him, but for the most part, it's because they think his career is wasted on someone with a quirk like his.

Not because they think it's villainous- the hero commission may contribute towards the discrimination but they have wildly separate motives-, but because they thought they could find... how does he say this? Better and more morally-gray uses for it. Ones they tried to get him to 'see the light' of but ones he ultimately beat down with a stick. Hence their hatred.

He doesn't take the hate personally- it's been happening for the last 25 years, getting butthurt now is just milking it- but he knows it matters. If they were to get wind of his 'promotion' they would shut it down faster than he could say slight emotional manipulation. Not just because they don't trust him, or because they know what kind of changes he would make in a position of power, but because of what it would mean for Nezu.

Like he told the rat earlier, the only reason he's principal is because the commission deemed him a security threat. They knew that with enough time and effort, Nezu could probably find out all the little secrets- that Shota  knows  they have- that they didn't want to get out. So what did they do? They gave him a job. One they knew he was smart enough to handle but one that also takes up a copious amount of time.

And if Nezu is too busy managing the lives of thousands of students and, more recently, managing the effects of All for One's recent escape, then there's no way he's going to be able to accurately target commission members on the side. So what would the commission think if they found out Nezu had, for the last fifteen years, been working on a side project for a student they absolutely despise to possibly take over a large portion of his responsibilities and thereby give him some dangerous free time to do as he pleased.

Shota assumes they wouldn't be too fond of it.

But it's going to happen one way or another, and because of that, he has decided to embrace Nezu's weird lessons and focus on a long term plan. Shota can't let them know he has the job right now or else they'll kick him out, so he simply won't tell them yet. He'll focus on the changes, make sure they're noticeable enough for someone to make a comment about but not dramatic enough for someone to point at it and say 'When did  that  happen?!', and through that, he'll try to win everybody  but  the hero commission's favor. He feels weird saying this but he's going to have to-  blegh ,  oh my god - get people to tolerate him.

...He wants to bleach his brain.

But if he can do...  that , then by the time the commission gets a hold of it and tries to kick him out, they quite literally can't. It'd be too suspicious. Too unreasonable. Too many people will have been on his side by then and could testify for any changes he'd made, he'll have them all wrapped around his finger and the hero commission will have no choice but to bend to his wil- Now that's a problematic thought process.

Calm down, you Nezu knock-off. On a less sadistic note, he can hopefully ease the hero commission into the changes, maybe even get them to trust him a little more too. And then  after  that, he can destroy them.

You know, when he first accepted the position of temporary principal, he thought his biggest concern was that the seven days would be over in the blink of an eye. Now he knows that it can never be that easy. And that somehow these stupid doze-off walks of his feed into his overthinking habit so much so that this thought process went from 'whatever shall I do?' to 'let's burn this mother fucker down... educationally'. It's just one problem right after the other for him, isn't it?

So... he guesses that's what he'll have to do for now. Focus on generating courses of action, inform Midoriya of the position tomorrow, keep the kid the hell away from Nezu, and going back to his original plan, attack the rat with a million questions about this job. Which he now only has 7 hours to do- he's been mentally monologuing for an hour, great- so he better go get a move on to Nezu's office if he wants to-

" It is a truth universally acknowledged, " Why does he always make a complete round at all the wrong moments?

The black-haired man once again shifted his body to face the left, fully expecting to see Bakugo slapping away Midoriya's scarred hands away from his 'spikey yet fluffy' hair for the 50th time, but was once again proved wrong. Alone on the bench sat a crisscrossed Midoriya, apparently reading aloud from the  Pride and Prejudice  book Hizashi had assigned his class last Monday and making small comments on it,

" that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.  Oh how times have changed. We're all broke as fuck."

"Midoriya," Shota said simply. Yes, he's a gigantic hypocrite. For example, just because he will be staying up doesn't mean his students can barely escape curfew to do the same. Midoriya lifted his head up from the book to wave,

"Hiii, Aizawa-senseiiii,"

"Mind explaining why you're tiptoeing around curfew and why Bakugo and Todoroki have randomly disappeared?"

"...Mind explaining why you walked around the dorms three times repeatedly muttering 'hero commission' under your breath?" Shota rolled his eyes at the boy,

"I stand by what I said, you've gotten too cheeky," Midoriya stuck his thumb up with a 'Hai!' and Aizawa let out a sigh that was most definitely not fond. Not a chance. After a few seconds of a very blank stare aimed at the boy, Midoriya finally dropped the nervous smile and sighed,

"Nezu told me to wait in this specific spot until I see Power-Loader leave the support labs to head back to the teachers' dorms. That way before he heads back I can shove this-" Midoriya held up a slip of paper, "in his hands and bribe him into signing it." The underground hero stepped closer and narrowed his eyes to get a clearer view of the paper. On the bottom was an empty line, which he assumed was meant for Majima's signature, and at the top... oh for the love of God. Shota felt a tingling in the back of his brain as if it was trying to tell him something, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what.

MANDATED GUARDIAN OF WARD OF U.A

"...What were you going to bribe him with?" It better be something good, Majima's not going to willingly take on another disaster child on top of  Hatsume Mei  of all people. And what's with Nezu making him wait in this specific spot?

"It's sort of a complicated process but I think I got it all figured out," The kid whipped out his notebook from the brown messenger bag- the same bag that sent an unknown feeling into Shota- and flipped to a specific page, "What Power-Loader wants is free time that isn't spent worrying if Mei is getting enough sleep and taking care of herself, so I plan on recruiting Shinsou to brainwash her into spending another hour on sleep. I'd make it three more, but anything above five minutes is already pushing it and I don't feel like getting bombed.

"But I can't just ask Shinsou to do that with nothing in return, so I've decided to bribe  him  with cats. I don't want to look crazy by grabbing a screaming cat off the streets, so I'll ask Koda to convince a few to come here of their own will. I know Koda has noise-canceling headphones on his wishlist, so I can get that from Jiro. And what Jiro wants is tickets to a Girl in Red concert, so I can get the money for that from Momo. And what Momo wants is tea, so I can sneak into Nezu's office again and take some, which works out perfectly because I already made three pages worth of research on which was the best brand of tea.

"Of course, it's not going to be easy breaking into Nezu's office, so someone else needs to go in and grab it. That's where you come in! Your excuse for taking high-quality tea is that according to Hound Dog, it's the only cure for Todoroki's tea kettle nightmares, and once again I can bribe you with cats. As for Hound Dog, I'll bribe him with complete security from said cats. It works out perfectly!" Once Midoriya finished his elaborate scheme explanation, he looked back up at his teacher with the same mad scientist look he had this afternoon, and Shota hated to do this but there are just certain times when sharing information is a necessity.

"...Yaoyorozu gifted Koda noise-canceling headphones as an apology for spooking one of his birds who witnessed a flaming, twenty-pound medicine ball with spikes on it fly in front of it."

It was more painful than he expected to watch Midoriya quite literally melt back into a slumped position on the bench, nothing but a slowly fading will to live inside him. God, the kid really is turning too much into him these days. Another tingling feeling at the back of Shota's brain appeared, much stronger than the last.

"...Do you think Mei would mind if I sent her into a coma?"

"A little bit, yeah,"

"It'd be for a good cause. Power-Loader might sign if he sees I got her to sleep."

"For an indefinite amount of time.”

"Twenty-pound, flaming medicine balls with metal spikes...  my own creation was the very cause of my downfall ," Well now this is just tragic. Shota wants to help the kid, he really does, and it's not exactly optional considering both of Midoriya's parents are gone.

But his neighbors are banned from school premises, no other teacher besides Vlad- like he'd ever let that happen- is available, and sending his pink-haired friend into a coma isn't exactly plus ultra. So there's nothing else he can do at the moment except hope Recovery Girl will just happen to pass by the student dorms and consider becoming a pseudo grandma today.

As Midoriya started mumbling about how much force he would need in a punch to knock a person out for a few hours and Shota contemplated other possible options, another tingling feeling appeared in his brain. It was picking up in strength and once again Shota couldn't help but feel like he was missing something. Something right under his nose that for the life of him he couldn't figure out.

No other teachers are available,  right ? Hound Dog being Midoriya's guardian would, unfortunately, violate UA guidelines, same for Recovery Girl. Shota wouldn't want the kid to be stuck with Vlad but even if he did, the guy's life revolves around his job and his dog, nothing else. And All Might-

OH MY GOD. ALL MIGHT.

Shota flinched as soon as the thought popped into his mind, earning a weird look from Midoriya and causing him to turn around and act as though he was still deep in thought and not hitting himself over his stupidity. How could he have missed this? How could  Nezu  have missed this? Or did he not miss it at all, and was perfectly aware of it the whole time? And if so, why did he hide it? Because it works out perfectly when he runs it over in his head.

All Might is still incredibly strong despite the loss of his quirk, so there are no concerns about safety. All Might and Mrs. Midoriya have most likely made amends with each other since their meeting about dorms last year, if their random tea invites Midoriya gives the guy in the place of his mother is anything to go by, so he'll be given full trust. As long as Hisashi Midoriya isn't made aware, that is. And with All Might being his teacher, mentor, predecessor, and basically his other fathe- Hm.

Hmm.

Hmmm.

Shota twirled back around on his foot to face the kid, who had made an impressive amount of progress with his 'how hard should I punch' dilemma, even if he wouldn't be allowed to do it in the end. Nor would need to, actually.

"I just remembered I'm a teacher," He said simply, causing Midoriya to shoot up in his seat. That's partly true. He realized a few minutes ago but it was around the same time he saw that Midoriya was replicating his dead inside habits a bit too much.

He wanted to help out the kid, but that didn't mean he wanted him to turn into a sleep-deprived, coffee-addicted, sarcastic piece of shit either. Because that's what would happen if Shota was put in charge of a child for extended periods of time. He can see the proof in Shinsou and recently Eri, too, which Hizashi told him is very concerning but Nemuri told him is also very amusing.

That's not the point, though. He recognizes he's a pretty bad influence on the younger generations, but wouldn't he be an even worse person if he were to dump another responsibility on All Might at 8 pm? The guy is ten years his senior, his bones are probably delicate as a feather and Shota would never wish harm upon a senior citizen. Ignoring what he said about Recovery Girl last Wednesday. He's only trying to be a good Samaritan by helping the guy out, right? After all, that's the true meaning of plus ultra...

...Either that or he's unintentionally making excuses to justify not returning the ray of sunshine kid to his ray of sunshine mentor. Midoriya let out a sigh of relief and Shota sent him a confused look,

"I was starting to get concerned at how long it took for you to realize that," Shota gave him a deadpan look.  Of course , "My plan was to get more crazy with my plans for Mei until eventually, it went up to murder, in which case you would be like 'Oh no! Me being his temporary guardian is a much better alternative to him ending up in jail for manslaughter!'. And if that didn't work out I would start crying, maybe steal a couple tragic backstory plot lines from Marvel, and guilt trip you into thinking 'Oh no again! Me being his guardian is better than him hiring a man named Ben to pretend to be his uncle and die on the street from a bullet wound!'. And if  that  didn't work... I memorized the lyrics and choreography to 'Hard Knock Life' from the 1976 musical Annie. I think you can guess what my goal for that was,"

Both of them stood in silence as Shota wondered why his students all seem to exist on a separate plane of insanity, and if he was the exact same way but just didn't realize it, until finally, he spoke.

"...Ignoring the fact that you learned a whole dance routine just to assist your scheme," Midoriya muttered a small 'wise choice' under his breath, and Shota couldn't help but agree, "I think I'll just sign and forget I ever heard that." The green-eyed boy pumped his fist in the air with an enthusiastic 'HAI!' before handing the paper and pen to his homeroom teacher and letting him use his notebook as a hard surface.

"Oh!" His kid exclaimed just as Shota finished signing, jolting in surprise as he rummaged through the brown messenger bag and pulled out an object, "Principal Nezu told me to give this to you, but only once you realized you were a teacher and could have signed the paper hours ago. I didn't look at the contents because I don't want him to murder my family but also because it screams 'confidential'," Gee, thanks Nezu. At least now he thinks he knows why the rat didn't mention All Might.

Unless that's yet another excuse the erasure-quirked man is making for himself.

With an exasperated sigh that had the kid sending him a look of pity, Shota took the object and inspected it. It was sleek, black, and small enough to fit in the back of his pocket. Simple enough, but he doubted whatever was inside would be the same, considering it came from his sadistic boss of all people. Without another second of hesitation, Shota opened the book.

And promptly perished.

Between the cover and the first page was a neatly folded piece of paper that held Midoriya's updated schedule. The next slip of paper between pages one and two was his updated schedule. And the third slip of paper was a message written in neat script from the chimera himself, one Shota knew he couldn't ignore no matter how much he wanted to.

'Aizawa-kun! By now you will have realized that All Might could have been Midoriya's guardian this whole time, but decided to ignore that and become his guardian yourself for reasons you claim you are unaware of :) You will have also been given this small book by Midoriya, which I recommend you treat with care. Inside it, you will find Midoriya's new schedule (I wonder when you're finally going to inform him that he's the permanent secretary! Or how my offer still stands to take him on as a personal student!) as well as your own.

'Certain classes have been cut out from his, and certain responsibilities have been cut out from yours. But I hope you know that that is much too easy for both of us. What you do from this point on up to you, but I understand if you don't yet know what that is, so I'll provide you with a bit of help and guidance.'

Oh, thank fuck.

' One, any and all course of actions you deem beneficial you will be permitted to follow through with, so long as they are dedicated towards the school, teachers, or any of its existing/future students. No matter how big or small you think it may be. It's up to you, along with who you choose to inform of all of this. Two, there will be times when due to new restrictions, responsibilities, and time constraints, you aren't able to work on any of said course of actions. And I'd like to inform you that by abiding by these guidelines, you are still correctly acting as vice principal. After all, not every day can be a fight to the death.

' Three, as I'm sure you already know, work studies and parent-teacher conferences are occurring this week, and I'm sure it'll be wildly discussed between your students. I trust you'll be able to handle any obstacles that come your way as a result of this. Fourth, how would you feel if you knew a Hero Commission representative asked to come here at the end of this week to once again discuss budgets with me and have a look around the school?'

What.

' Finally, fifth. Inside this book, you'll find some other answers to questions I bet you wanted to ask me earlier, as well as other smaller rules, details, and information Midoriya may not already have in his notebooks. The notebooks I'd like to see more of, by the way, as number 14 was very interesting. But on the last page of this book is a message from me to you that I hope will inspire you to try your best in this new position!'

Shota flipped to the last page and felt a rare chill run down his spine at the words written.

' The real test is just beginning, Aizawa-kun.'

And as the sounds of Midoriya skipping away to his dorm, Vlad's dog barking up a storm, and the flipping of pages in the wind blended together in a jumbled mess, Shota only had one last question for whatever cruel God was in charge of his life. Which might as well be Nezu.

Why couldn't the week just end?

Chapter Text

Izuku is good at acceptance.

Which is great, because it's not exactly optional when you're born with a life like his. He had to accept his quirklessness, the broken-beyond-repair friendship between him and Kaachan, his father's 12-year business trip, and so much more. And you can probably imagine how after having one loss right after the other for 10 years straight, he no longer saw the point in complaining about it. It's not like screaming, crying, and cursing out the world would change anything, anyway. So why bother?

That's why when the week of Aizawa-sensei and him being principal and secretary together came to an end yesterday, he didn't make a fuss about it. Sure, he'll miss the notebooks, the mechanical pencils, the endless opportunities for analysis, and the feeling that he was fulfilling his promise for once to help other quirkless kids, but it'll be okay. At least Aizawa-sensei gets to be vice-principal if that’s what he meant last week.

And it's not like it was the last chance he'll get for all of that, right? Work Studies are coming up this week-  tomorrow, you asshole-  and he might even find a specialized hero to work with where he can apply the skills he's learned. Intimidation techniques and the negative side effects of alcohol consumption, that is. He loved it, but it's over, and he'll have to come to terms with that. Because that's how good he is at acceptance.

So you can imagine the heart attack he had when not even two steps into the school he feels a signature gray capture weapon wrap around his torso, hoist him into the air, float him all the way in front of 2-a's classroom, and plop him down in a chair next to a mini desk with a single notebook, a sheet of paper, mechanical pencil, and a couple markers. Of course, the first three seconds were spent with him admiring the fine quality of the stationary, because hey, Copic markers ain't cheap and he would have had to sell his soul to afford them. But right after that? Pure panic and confusion as to why Aizawa-sensei couldn't just say hello, how is he, how is his mental health, instead of kidnapping him with his scarf for the second time in two weeks.

"It'd be a waste of a perfectly good capture weapon," Ah, he said it out loud. Izuku forced himself to look away from the Copic markers- what? they're  really  expensive- to give a dead-eyed stare at his homeroom teacher. He gets a decent amount of sleep every night, but lately, he's just feeling perpetually tired. He can already see hints of purple beneath his eyes and he has no clue as to why. "In any case, verbal communication is a waste of time when more important things need to be done today." Izuku tilted his head.

"Aren't parent-teacher conferences today?"

"Yes, which means I'll have to be dealing with the justifiably overprotective parents of this hell class and answer the excessive amount of questions about their child that I know they'll have." Ah yes, the guardians of hero students are a different species altogether. Izuku's mother’s meeting with All Might feels as though it was just yesterday, and he can still perfectly remember the frown on her face, the dead inside look on All Might's, and the cackling of his father once he told him about it. Aizawa-sensei should consider himself lucky he never met her, nor was he the target of her rage.

"Unfortunately,” Aizawa-sensei continued, “as I have realized from past experiences, parents don't like asking questions. They'd much rather prefer it if I had a mind-reading quirk and answered whatever they were wondering about before they even open their mouths. It's a very dysfunctional relationship, in my opinion. But since I can't read minds, I'll have to settle for the second most accurate source of information regarding their state of mind: Whatever the hell you have written down in your notebook.”

“I’m afraid I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Izuku muttered quietly, averting his eyes back down to the markers. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. By the way, how’s Uraraka’s father enjoying the present you told his daughter to get for him on his birthday that he had apparently been secretly wishing to own for the last three years?” Izuku stared harder.  Wow, these markers are so captivating . “That’s what I thought. Anyway, since I also cannot read your mind, analyzing what you think the parents’ questions will be and preferably yelling it out as loud as you can before they enter this room will be your responsibility for today.” 

Well, Izuku guesses it’s pretty interesting. Only a little bit, of course. He’s most definitely not physically restraining himself from screaming in excitement and running back to the dorms to grab his notebook collection that has the analysis of all of his classmates’ parents. 

He’s always had a knack for discovering what a person’s problem was before they could tell- or rather yell, more accurately- it to him. Maybe it was because he knew that if he didn’t find out fast enough, and acted as though he wasn’t going to do anything to soothe the problem his classmates and teachers always seemed to have with him, he’d feel the wrath of God struck upon him. If wrath was explosions and God was Kaachan, that is. And you know what, that might not be too far from what the angry boy himself actually believes. But still, that doesn’t answer the question of  why  he’s doing it.

“As much as scheduling appointments for people like a receptionist has been my second life-long dream-“ He’s not kidding, it is. There’s something about calling clients and planning events that have always made him feel all tingly inside. If he didn’t want to be a hero so bad, and if quirkless people were allowed to go to the best colleges, and if his dad never pestered him about becoming a quirk analyst like him, he would most definitely have a career in mind. “-wouldn’t Iida enjoy that even more? Isn’t handling a section of parent-teacher conferences technically part of his responsibilities as class president?” 

“Iida’s already got his hands full today after self-assigning himself to stock the school with food and refreshments for the parents coming in. Not to mention I got an email last night from his mother saying that she and her husband will be out of town on a mission, meaning they’ll have to send someone in their place to act as Iida’s guardian,” Aizawa glanced sorrowfully at the blue-haired boy chopping his hands around at the other end of the hallway, “I can’t imagine the grief that comes with having to deal with Tensei of all people, so I’m letting him do this as a way to cope. And besides, this is more within the realm of a secretary’s duties.”

Right! Izuku nodded enthusiastically with excitement gleaming in his eyes as he stared down at the new notebook, imagining all the things he could scribble down in it. He knows the most about the temperamental auntie Mitsuki, but for some reason, he can imagine her having the least amount of problems with this school. Tsu’s parents are pretty chill, so Aizawa-sensei could bypass any difficult conversations and stick to just her grades- Wait.

“Wait…” Izuku muttered quietly, his mind slowing down to make room to process his teacher’s last words. And when it did, he reverted back to his original form: Panic. He shot his head back up to look at the black-haired man who was currently picking his nails as if he was just waiting for the boy to realize, “HUH?!”

“Aw rats,” The man said in a deadpan manner, voice not giving away even a smidge of remorse, “did I forget to mention Nezu and I have agreed that my position as vice-principal as well as your position as secretary will be kept permanent from now on with adjustments made accordingly to your class schedule?”

“YES- Wait, Nezu said that? In the meeting you had yesterday? The one I met with him right after? Wouldn’t he have mentioned it instead of waiting till the last minute-”

“Life as a hero is very fast-paced. No time to waste on details and explanations. To irrelevantly quote a man who I assume is probably a major asshole, and therefore just like me, on time is late and early is on time.” 

Izuku grabbed strands of his own hair and flickered his eyes around in front of him as if he was trying to figure out a complex math problem. Which this might as well have been. Aizawa-sensei looked down at him with a smidge of hidden amusement at his predicament.

“Doesn’t he need to inform my parents? Oh god, I didn’t even inform my parents. Should I inform my mom? My dad? No! My dad would tell me to use this as an opportunity to gather blackmail! He’s unhelpful in many things! Should I tell Iida? I don’t know why I would but he seems very put together with his life. Maybe I should tell everyone-”

“Technically the only permission needed is yours. And by the way, I also forgot to mention that the only people who can be made aware of this change is Nezu, me, and you.”

“I’m horrible at keeping secrets and seven ghosts can attest to this-”

“Eight.”

“All Might’s not dead!”

“Seven and a half. To everyone else, everything will appear business as usual. Except for whatever excuse you’ll come up with to explain your absence for two- maybe three, but hopefully not if everything goes according to  my  plan, not Nezu’s- classes and a period after school.”

“I’m missing classes?!” The green-haired boy frantically snatched the sheet of paper to scan its contents only to see the updated version of his class schedule. 

First period English and fifth period quirk law- Didn’t it used to be safety procedures? Did the second semester bring new courses?- were X’d out in bright red ink. How did Nezu know he was fluent in Engli- Why is he even asking this? Of course he knows, he knows every detail about everyone’s life and it’d be foolish to think otherwise. So Izuku guesses he probably shouldn’t freak out about why Nezu also knew he had memorized all of Japan’s and America’s quirk laws by now. 

Although, that still doesn’t explain why there was a small illustration of a block of cheese and a smiley face next to the words ‘private lessons’ that Aizawa-sensei seemed to immediately glare at. But back to the point, which is panicking. 

“Those two classes combined would be about an hour and forty minutes, not including the extra two hours of extracurricular activities that UA provides to its students. But the first period starts in less than five minutes, meaning the parents will be here any second now and I still don't have my time managed! I don’t have enough time to run back to the dorms and get my notebooks! The only ones I have on me right now don’t have information on the parents! If I get info wrong then the parents will be mad that the problem can’t be fixed and they’ll start yelling and their kids will get mad too and start yelling and then  everyone will start yelling at me... ”

While Izuku trailed off in his own worries he failed to notice the black-haired man slowly leaning down till he was on one knee at eye-level with him. He only realized when just five seconds after his mumblings had turned intelligible he felt a mechanical pencil gently poke his forehead, causing him to cease all movement and attempt to stare cross-eyed at the place he was jabbed. 

“Problem child,”  How accurate , Izuku thinks to himself, the sounds around him still blurring together under the persistent drum of his heart in his ears, “it seems you have forgotten a few things and as your teacher, I have to remind you of them. First of all, after yesterday I think it’s safe to assume that you have already memorized the contents of all your previous notebooks word-for-word, and therefore do not require them at the moment. You won’t forget what your analyses of the parents were, I can promise you that.”

Izuku hesitantly nodded, albeit a little doubtful and wondering where Aizawa-sensei gets all of these writing utensils. It’s like a black market at this point. 

“Second, the parents aren’t going to yell at you just because you aren’t able to figure out what they’re pissy about today, even though you definitely will be. They aren’t going to yell at you at all,” The underground hero lowered his voice to an incoherent mutter, “ because if they did I would beat them to death ,”

“Huh?”

“Because you’re a child and they aren’t on meth.” Ah ok. Izuku nodded again, “Third, your responsibilities from this point on are exactly the same as last week’s, it’s not something you’ll have to overthink. The only differences being the time of day you can work on said responsibilities and how you’ll have to constantly avoid the claws of a sadistic monster.”

“Are you referring to principal Nezu?”

“Your words not mine, and yes. And lastly, if you still think that grown adults are going to harass you-” The man lowered his voice again, “- which is strange because that shouldn’t be an expectation unless you’re holding a piece of information about Aldera back from me again-  then I suppose you have two options. You can either fulfill your strange, incomprehensible by my standards dream of helping conduct semi-interviews or you can-” 

“Interviews.” Izuku said with newfound determination, all traces of nervousness melting off his features as he clicked his pencil a few times and opened the new notebook, “Right!” 

“Didn’t even hear the second opti-”

“Right!”

“You know this is nostalgic in all the worse ways, ri-”

“RIGHT!” Aizawa-sensei sighed, although lately, his sighs are sounding less depressed and more… Izuku didn’t know. And he probably would have looked more into what this change could be if he wasn’t so caught up in the reasons for why he felt the need to analyze his teacher’s sighs. The same goes for the length of Kaachan’s snarls and how furrowed his eyebrows are. Does he do this to everyone?

“Cheeky brat,” The man stood up and opened the door to the classroom, but stopped after taking a single step in and turned back to face Izuku. He held out his fist with a single thumb up and turned it to the side in a halfway motion, “Yes or no, Problem child,” 

“Do I really have a choice?” Aizawa-sensei gave a sadistic, toothy smile in a way that was more similar to Nezu’s than any of them would like to admit out loud. Izuku sighed.

And gave a thumbs up.

And only after his heroics teacher disappeared within the classroom for 2-a, probably to mentally prepare with coffee and a pep talk from his sleeping bag for the army of angry parents that would soon come barging in, did Izuku take a second to sink deeper into the small rolling chair. Pencil in hand, notebook on the desk, and the adrenaline of the situation finally slowing down enough for him to understand what had just happened.

He’s secretary, and he’s going to stay that way. With no seven day limit constantly bouncing around his mind, he has all the time in the world to make a difference in this school, to live up to the standards presented to him. And he  will  live up to them if it’s the last thing he does. 

Aizawa-sensei handed him this position and trusted him enough to help carry out these courses of action. He did practically everything, and it’s about time Izuku pitched in too. Because no matter what Hound Dog says, he’s not far away from useless, and for the love of God he doesn’t want to be useless. He’ll work hard, he’ll prove his own independent worth, and he’ll…

He’ll be more like Aizawa-sensei. 

So he won’t question why neither of the sadistic members of staff decided to tell him about the position until now, or what the block of cheese and private lessons meant, or even why he’s choosing to ignore how important it is for him to figure out where the hell he’s going for work studies. He’ll just roll with it.

Because what can he say, he’s good at acceptance. 

Money , Midoriya had frantically signed to him through the window of the door just a second after he sat down in his chair,  money, money, money.

At first, he combed through possibilities for why the kid already knew JSL when the unit wasn’t for another two months, maybe because as usual, he overworked himself to death trying to get ahead of the curriculum. But then Shota realized that if he became fluent in it purely because his goal was to force Hizashi into learning it, too, for his own good, then the kid no doubt did the same for Bakugo. And while he doesn’t have any hardcore evidence to prove it, he has a feeling the explosive boy ended up giving in just like Hizashi.

The second thing Shota did was wonder what it was supposed to mean. Money? It’s a pretty broad topic in this day and age, especially when it came to complaints about UA. Were Uraraka's parents still salty about the zero pointer incident last year and thought the school had  too much  money? It wouldn’t be the first time a parent said that. Not that he would blame them, as Uraraka literally could have died had there been a malfunction. The zero pointers were a horrible idea and he’s glad it’s been discontinued. But wouldn't they have brought it up last year if that was the case? Why wait for now? 

The last thing Shota did was have a fucking stroke.

“Aizawa-kun!” Uraraka's father greeted pleasantly, and it took everything in the underground hero’s body not to jump out of his skin because  how the hell did he enter so quickly and why is he already sitting down-  “Pleasure to meet with you today!”

“Likewise,” Shota stood and stuck his arm out to shake the hand of the older man and woman before sitting back down. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Midoriya’s hair slowly sinking out of the view of the door window. He guesses Shinsou isn’t the only kid here with a strange knack for spying. “In the email you sent us you only signed up to meet with me and only me. Were you not aware that your daughter's other teachers were also available for conferences today because their schedules were staggered or was this your intention?”

“Ah, no worries, we only wanted to meet with you,” The mother said easily, “At this point we know our daughter well enough to predict what her core subjects teachers have to say about her. Every year it’s either she needs to participate more in class or she needs to dial down the talking during class. If it isn’t anything too problematic or anything about her actual academic performance, we don’t see the point.” Fair enough.

“In that case, I assume you don’t want to discuss her performance as a hero either,” 

Shota also knows Uraraka well enough to recall how she always calls her parents at least once a day to fill them in about how school is going. As her parents said, there’d be no point in discussing something they already have enough information about. The couple laughed sheepishly.

“You would be right.” Her father said before lowering his voice a bit. Jeez, is he gonna threaten him or something? Shota has no direction in life but if one thing’s for sure it’s that he doesn’t want to end up as one of those burglars that dared to try to break into this family’s house. “What we really came to talk about today was… um, how should I put this? We- Well, you see-”

“Money.” 

Shota still doesn’t understand what specifically about money they want to discuss, but Midoriya must have been right with his analysis judging by the huge sigh of relief that escaped the smiling couple when he said that single word for them. 

He guesses he can empathize, depending on who you’re talking to and what you’re talking about, discussing money could be the rudest thing in the universe. It’d just be easier for the person to initiate the conversation for them. If Shota actually cared about his income or knew what it was for that matter, he would slap someone if they asked him how much money he had. 

And besides it being just plain disrespectful, it’s embarrassing for most to even answer those questions. The black-haired man still remembers how a guy in his class flipped out when he said his house didn’t contain two bathrooms, an ice dispensing fridge, and a car. He wasn’t really embarrassed, but he could see how someone else would be. He wanted to slap that guy, too. 

Hah, imagine how much he’d freak out if he knew Shota didn’t even have an apartment. 

Sorry, not the point. Luckily, whatever Uraraka’s parents are inquiring about didn’t seem to be rude in the slightest, and he can only hope they aren’t that embarrassed. But as always, that was the least of his worries. 

The palpable relief and gratefulness on the two only lasted for a few seconds before there was a sudden malicious shift in their nature. 

“According to my sources,” Does she mean her daughter? When did this turn into an interrogation? Why does this entire family talk like they're from the Russian Mob? “Last Friday an email was sent out to all the parents saying that if their income remained below a certain amount, they would be able to sign up their child for a fund at UA that would cover certain expenses.” Oh right, the fund. 

The fund . 

He was right, this was an interrogation. An interrogation about money, specifically the fund he organized last week and most likely what it entailed. He imagined a more civilized discussion about this, preferably without weaponized stationery and over email, but if this has to be a high stakes war then so be it. He’ll elaborate on this so specifically and helpfully that they’ll wish they never- Uh, had a mental thought about it. Yeah. He’s been around Midoriya too long. That’s the only reasonable explanation for why he’s so intense about supplying information. 

But oh well, maybe the trademark Midoriya persona is exactly what he needs to embody right now. 

“Yes.” And so it begins, “Three regular uniforms, two for everyday interchangeable use and one for emergencies, are included in the fund. I’d say the same for gym uniforms but those have always been covered by UA for hero course students given how often they get destroyed. Basic meals like breakfast, lunch, and dinner are included, but any extra snacks that come from the vending machine aren’t. Unless, of course, extra sources of protein, sugar, or calories are needed to stay healthy during training. Since the students live in the dorms now but are still allowed to go shopping on weekends or on break, UA gives them an appropriate allowance. While leisurely items are important in their own way, the school board didn’t deem an excessive budget for them a necessity. If you have issues with this you are of course encouraged to-”

“Wh…” Mrs. Uraraka muttered slowly, causing Shota to cut himself off mid-rant and stare at her in confusion, “What?”

Just as quickly as it had come, the underground hero’s illusion of Uraraka’s parents melted away and their appearances had returned back to normal. No evil smiles or calculating eyes, only brown-doe eyes and striking blushes on their cheeks. They were the pinnacle of warmth and innocence to anyone who wasn’t a house robber. And it was at that moment that he had another realization: Not everyone was out to get him and everything was his imagination. Slowly, he microscopically leaned back to appear more casual than his racing thoughts made him seem. 

“...I don’t know,” The black-haired man said cautiously, “What?” 

“We… we just wanted to thank you...” I’m sorry,  what ? His eyes must have deeply expressed his disbelief because she quickly filled the silence, sighing and threading her fingers through her hair with the stress that he could definitely relate to.

“Our family isn’t broke. Well, broke compared to others, that is. We have stable jobs, stable enough to keep good hygiene, put food on the table, and stay far away from the concept of homelessness. We’re far better off than most,” Shota microscopically bristled, Mr. Uraraka noticed but stayed silent. “The problem with this is, however, is that this stability comes at a price. We worked from 6 in the morning, maybe earlier, to 8 at night. And because of this... we were never really around.

“We never had the time to prepare Ochako breakfast or lunch before she was off to school, and our dinners were later than we would have liked. Certain luxuries, like high-end clothing or premium subscriptions to magazines or online programs, were also out of our price range. And while she never really complained about it, sometimes we could see the toll it took on her to watch as her other friends and classmates got to experience all the things she never did. 

“We gave her an allowance, of course, to try and encourage her to branch out, but she barely ever made a dent in it. It’s like she dedicated her whole life to making sure we were okay when it should have been the other way around. Hell, I’m sure she’s told you her whole reason for being a hero in the first place was all about the money.”

Not exactly, he just overheard it from Todoroki when he was in the middle of his conspiracy rants only three feet away from Shota’s desk next to his friends. The boy more or less said that Uraraka was the child of Stain, but after her mother divorced him since he became a serial killer, she rebelled against him by becoming the one thing he hates most: Heroes who were in it for the money and fame. And it was revenge since she was the only other hero besides All Might and apparently Midoriya for some reason that he couldn’t kill.

What even happened during that attack in Hosu?

But yeah, it was a reach, even by Todoroki’s standards. And Uraraka must have agreed since the next thing they all know, the heterochromatic-eyed boy’s notebook went flying into infinity. Midoriya helped him hold a funeral, and Shota wishes he could forget how Tokoyami did a whole afterlife ritual with Aoyama singing opera in the background. And why did he need to pay a fee to get in the room?

“And even now at UA, when she’s already on the path to achieving her dream job, she still worries about us. And we appreciate it, we really do, but…”

“You want her to worry about herself first,” Shota finished for her, getting a nod in return. He spared a glance to his left to make sure neither Midoriya nor Uraraka, who was waiting for her parents to finish, weren’t listening. And judging by how absorbed they were in their animated conversation, they weren’t. Good. Mr. Uraraka nodded, continuing in the place of his wife.

“She keeps telling us she does, and for a while we even believed it. But then last week when we got a call from your school’s guidance counselor- Ryugi Inui, I think?”

“Ryo Inui.” Or as Shota used to call him: ‘Get the fuck away from me I don’t need counseling I’m fine’. Ah, the good old days. 

“Yes, right- calling to tell us that our daughter had given him permission to share this information, it being that she had apparently been… skipping certain meals every day, we just…” Uraraka’s father’s hands almost imperceptibly balled into fists, “We don’t want her to have to limit herself for our sake, it’s not her responsibility. But it’s not like we can ever talk to her about it! There’s never any time to.

“Deep down we all know the real problem is money. There simply isn’t enough of it for us to keep us all healthy and happy. And it’s what’s been weighing down on us these past years, preventing us from ever having the energy or time to confront these problems. But now that UA is pitching in, making life just a little bit easier, it lifted the weight enough that for once in our lives we’ll have the chance to breathe. Slow down and recharge. It’s buying us the time we desperately need.

“And maybe one day, I don’t know when but sometime soon, when we’re finally able to keep up with normal families, we can let her know that it’s okay to stop. To rest and be selfish like a teenage girl should be,”

Uraraka’s mother finally stopped speaking, taking a deep breath in apprehension for his response. As to what his response even was… he didn’t know.

Shota’s no expert but it seems like he should be crying right now. Maybe not out of sadness but rather just any strong emotion to complement the sappy-ness of the mother’s words. But while that’s what he should be doing, right now all he feels is awkward. He’s not emotionless- he thinks. Fuck you, Nezu- but that doesn’t mean he knows how to handle these kinds of situations. So he’ll handle them in the way he always does: Logic.

The parents needed money. The parents are happy that they now have money. The parents are grateful to him because they think he gave them that money, but he didn’t, not really. 

Uraraka told Hound Dog, Hound Dog told him, he called the woman in the budgetary subsection of the business department, and she set up the fund to distribute money. Money that wasn’t exclusive to just Uraraka, but many other students as well. No one is exactly special in this scenario, especially not him, and he doesn’t understand why this couple thinks otherwise. So he guesses the only thing he can do right now is to try and convince these people to hold higher standards for others around them. 

“I agree. I think. Although it’s not exactly something I should be praised for, since I assume it’s the bare minimum,” He said simply. Mr. Uraraka chuckled.

“Nonsense, you’d be surprised how many other school boards overlooked this. Not you, though. We’re incredibly thankful that-“

“You shouldn’t be, though. And if you really are I’m sorry to inform you that whatever the reason you think I did this was, it’s probably not correct. Your daughter was skipping meals to save money and sleeping to distract herself from the hunger,”

The couple’s smiles dropped.

“Skipping meals is unhealthy for someone her age, especially for someone engaging in intense physical activities for the majority of the day. It’s a mystery for how long she has been doing this, but it’s a habit that needed to be killed quickly before she started her career as a hero. Or else it could have possibly led to a fatal accident. It would be illogical as her teacher to let her continue on like that, so I did what anyone else would do and took the necessary steps to avoid that. I did my job,”

“Aizawa-san, please,” Mrs. Uraraka said slightly desperately for him to understand them, “We understand being modest, and we honestly aren’t trying to make you uncomfortable by offering any gifts or compensation in return for what you did, but we refuse to leave here without letting you know that we really are grateful for this. All of this. You say you took the necessary, logical steps as our daughter’s teacher but that was still in regards to Ochako’s well-being, no selfish motives in sight. So yes, thank you.”

Shota stared at the couple whose brown eyes stared right back. He hated things like this. People like him shouldn’t be placed on a pedestal just because they don’t want children to essentially kill themselves due to selfless but generally naive motives, that’s sick. And he of all people especially doesn’t deserve this. Because he’s not… good. He’s not mindlessly heroic in the way that others are- like All Might, Midoriya, or even Oboro- no matter how much he wishes he could be. He helped out of logic, nothing more nothing less.

But here these two people are, repeatedly insisting that he indulge their gratefulness and for what? For a little ego boost? Well, he doesn’t want nor need this. 

Shota sat in silence for a little longer before slowly shaking his head, causing the parents to deflate with a sigh when they realized they’d never be able to convert Shota to their false way of thinking. 

“If you have no other problems with your daughter’s education that need to be discussed then I think we can wrap up the meeting, I wouldn’t want to waste any time you could use today for other parent-teacher meetings. I know you said you weren’t going to bother attending for anyone else but if I remember correctly then Thirteen had a list of praises about your daughter that she’d rather die than keep to herself. Any questions?”

“Yes, actually, just one,” Mrs. Uraraka said quietly. 

Oh god, please let it not be about why Uraraka came home yesterday carrying a dog, a wallet, car keys, an IHOP gift card, a Starbucks gift card, a family heirloom of a hero's great grandmother that will end up on eBay later today, and a state of the art AC. Because he really has no clue how to explain that. 

“Does UA need any construction work done?” What?

“What?”

“It’s, uh, sort of a thing we do,” Mr. Uraraka stumbled out sheepishly, calloused hands rubbing against the back of his neck, “Whenever we visit a large, and financially supported, establishment with tons of unused property, like UA, it’s practically tradition for us to offer our services. We would prefer not to but…”

“Can’t miss out on any potential business.”

Mr. Uraraka gave a wobbly smile that wordlessly agreed with Shota’s statement. It’s a reasonable thing to do, no matter how much they wish they didn’t have to. But hey, do what you gotta do amiright? The black-haired man let out a short breathy laugh as he glanced outside. 

“Trying times in the economy if your business isn’t directly related to hero work, huh?” The couple made a humming sound of agreement, “But at least you guys are a safe distance away from homelessness. It sucks a- uh, a lot.”

It’s... weird, on the streets, it’s almost like no matter what he did he just couldn’t win. The weather was either too cold or too hot and his bed was either too paper-thin or too suffocating. Not to mention his company either wanted nothing to do with him- going so far as to avoid all eye contact with him, which was a bit dehumanizing but he guessed collaborated with his hate for all other living things besides cats- or… too much to do with him. 

“Hah, I would imagine,” Mr. Uraraka chuckled out, “Do you speak from experience or something?”

Shota looked back away from the window, black eyes flashing up to briefly meet a light brown before focusing down at his coffee mug. He offered no definitive answer, and judging by the creased brows of the father, he noticed. 

In any case, as much as he doesn’t want to, he’ll have to turn down their offer. It’s nothing personal, he just doesn’t know what kind of construction this school would even require at this time. It’s not like they’re planning on building any hero statues- well, any  more  hero statues that is. 

Shota still remembers his first day of attending UA’s hero course, the scent of his classmates’ expensive hero costumes filling his nose as he ventured to the school’s garden trying to get away from the over-enthusiastic blonde hero kid that wouldn’t stop yelling greetings at him. He hoped that he would find a bench under a shady tree to park himself at until everyone else left, maybe come across a stray cat, but instead he only found one- or three, horrifying objects.

Marble statues of three hero students whose faces weren’t hard to determine. The one on the left was Endeavor, which Shota found pretty counterproductive for this schools‘ plus ultra morale considering the nasty scowl on the man’s face. The one on the right was Nighteye, which even he can’t find flaws in because hey, he respects the guy's no-bullshit attitude and his clearance aisle three-piece suits. And finally, the one in the middle was All Might himself. 

His statue had little gifts and cards beneath it, so much so that someone who had lived under a rock their whole life would think it was a memorial for a dead celebrity. But no, society just loves him that much, and for a good reason, too. The perfectly carved eyes stared down at Shota that day, like a heroic slap in the face for everything he wanted to be, and actually made the first step to accomplish but could never quite get there.

That was the last day he went into the garden to see the statues for the original big three. 

But back to his original point, just because he doesn’t want any more statues in this school, that doesn’t mean he can say the same for any other hero schools. Schools that come the closest to UA’s endless resources, like Ketsubutsu. Fukukado would probably be up for a comedic monument of that American guy John Mulaney or something, right? Or maybe some new fences, cafeteria tables, more elaborate set designs for their training grounds- wait.

“Actually,” Shota said, replacing the regretful look on his face with something akin to calculating, causing the couple to brighten up a bit in hope. “how elaborate can the structures you build be?” Mrs. Uraraka pressed a finger to her lips in thought. 

“We once were commissioned to build an obstacle course for a rich family’s dragon-mutated son’s birthday party, and there were quite a lot of oddly detailed mythical creature structures… Suspended in mid-air.” That’s actually exactly what he had in mind. 

“Huh. How fast did that job take you guys?”

“About a day if I round it up, we have some people on our team with quirks that help speed up the weight lifting, transportation, and cement drying process. Although Ochako used to always offer her floating services for some equipment, we manage just as fine without it.”

So what she’s basically saying is that it’d take two to three days at most to build a structure twice as big and do extra work that may or may not include carrying out the security improvements Midoriya drafted up yesterday that they were already planning on carrying out. And that, with the added benefit of the blueprints he had in mind only taking a small amount of time to draft up if Majima is motivated by beach songs enough, then there’s a good chance he could get rolling with his other course of action sooner than expected… or Well would you look at that. 

“I see… Last question, do you guys have any other jobs at the moment?” Mr. Uraraka answered this one this time, poking around at the air like he was mentally flipping through his company’s schedule. 

“If I’m timing it right, our guys should have finished up Tadashi-san’s mall water fountain a few hours ago. So now we’re just job hunting, I guess,”

“Ah, ok. Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” The couple gave a sad but accepting nod as they deflated only to shoot back up at Shota’s next words, “Anyway, I guess that means you can start right away. I’d prefer it to be within ten hours but if you have to start tomorrow due to gathering materials or any other unknown circumstances that could also be acceptable.”

“W-wait a second-”

“Do you charge by the hour or is there one set price?” He cut Mrs. Uraraka off, “Actually, you know what? It doesn’t matter. Bankrupting UA isn’t within this world’s possibilities, even though it’d be very satisfying to watch, and I could always get Hyun Gong to figure it out so long as Midoriya is the one to ask. She has a soft spot for children that randomly memorize financial statistics for establishments, I assume,”

“Oh, Midoriya you say? I remember hearing about him once or twice, our daughter speaks quite fondly about him. Quite recently she mentioned something about him helping her out with her on-the-side eBay store?” Shota froze microscopically at the father’s words, “In any case, I can’t remember the details. Wait, no, that’s not the point!”

“I’ll email you the blueprints sometime later today once Power Loader and his student have them prepared, which shouldn’t take too long. I assume you have your own trucks for transportation, as well as materials, but feel free to use Cementoss’ services whenever you’d like. He likes using his quirk for this kind of stuff, he says it gives him an excuse to say ‘I built this school from the ground up’ because he quite literally did,”

“Aizawa-san!” The mother exclaimed a little desperately, causing Shota to pause in the process of pulling out his computer and basically steamrolling them in the conversation. “Are… are you hiring us?”

“No, UA is hiring you, I’m simply passing it on,” 

Completely different, right? Mrs. Uraraka sighed with a tired smile.

“Why are you doing this? If we pressured you into accepting our offer I can promise you that we don’t mind if you refuse,”

Why is he doing this? Well, that’s an interesting question, one even he’s struggling to answer right now. 

For starters, he’s doing this because he needs to. He has plans to have another training simulation this week, one that will require oddly specific structures to be placed around the empty training ground, and for that to happen he needs a construction crew to do it for him. The Urarakas are already here, and they fit perfectly into his plan. 

The second reason is as he said yesterday, the commission still doesn’t like him, not that he thought that fact would change within less than a day. Or ever. And really he doesn’t care about whether they like him or not, he just cares if they’re able to do anything because of it. And the only way to make sure they can’t is to build his own personal army of naive citizens to take his side when the intervention eventually happens.

And with that in mind, it’d be stupid to limit himself to fellow heroes and hero students, so why not branch out to the students’ parents? Parents whose reviews of said school will, whether they know it or not, drastically affect UA’s budget, public relationships, and average admissions. Not to mention hero society as a whole.

And what does the hero commission think will happen if the kind-hearted parents, who’ve made friends with all the other parents, found out that the teacher who helped them and their daughter had suddenly been fired?

Or, more accurately when dealing with the hero commission, disappeared off the face of the planet with nothing but a forged suicide note in their wake?

Anarchy, that’s what.

It’s too risky of a move for anyone in higher authority than him or Nezu could take, so they simply wouldn’t take it at all. And that’s exactly what he’s aiming for. Him hiring Uraraka’s parents- God the constant use of their surnames is confusing- is not only efficient for his short term plans but for his long term plans as well.

It’s emotional manipulation. Which, as you can probably tell, is the farthest thing from selfless. Because as he said last week he does nothing out of the ‘kindness of his nonexistent heart’. These are his only motivations for doing this, nothing more and possibly less.

Because he’s a bad person.

Right?

Vaguely in Shota’s subconscious, a third reason came to mind. One that didn’t present itself as computer-style cheat codes like all of his other thoughts did, but rather as a quickly fading image. It was a family, brown hair and brown eyes with stark blushes on all of their cheeks, smiling and crying and hugging as they finally worked out all of their differences and misunderstandings of the past.

A family who finally got the chance to be selfish.

The image disappeared just as quickly as it had come, and Shota shrugged off the light feeling that it carried like dust off his shoulder. He snapped back into the conversation.

“It was the most logical decision.” 

“I see…” Shota can tell Mr. Uraraka wants to say those two little words to express his gratitude but instead stays silent. And for once the underground hero feels like he should be the one doing the thanking. “I’ll have our crew over as soon as possible once we receive instructions,”

A timer goes off on his phone. Shota stands up, prompting the parents to do the same, “Our time is up, and I stand by what I said earlier, Thirteen would very much like to share their compliments about your daughter,”

“Ah yes, I heard they had a soft spot for any student with a space theme. We’ll make sure to drop by,” The father says as he and his wife head towards the door. But before they could leave, the man pauses and lowers his voice to a small whisper, quiet enough for no one besides the two of them to overhear.

“And just to fuel my morbid curiosity,” That’s never a good way to start a conversation, “so I apologize if this is a bit intrusive, what exactly did your living conditions used to be?”

He’s right, it is morbid. The erasure hero thinks back to cold concrete, harsh stares, the glint of a swiss army knife in a drugstore at 1 in the morning, and he shrugs.

“Could have been better,”

“Where were your parents?” The father whispers again.

This time Shota doesn’t bother with remembrance.

“You’ll receive the blueprints a little afternoon, and don’t be surprised if you see questionable designs on there. I promise it’s within a legal gray area,” It’s depressing how he now had to do extensive research for loopholes, though, “And just a word of advice: If you see a hyperactive pink-haired student with grease on her and steampunk goggles asking to assist your work, run away as fast as you can,”

It’s also depressing how he has to verbally give that warning now. But after Nezu got several complaints from students saying they didn’t appreciate having their phones coming back shooting lasers with razors sticking out after they had simply asked for a small wiring repair, it was necessary.

Uraraka jumped as her parents flowed out the classroom door with a pep in their step, taking one more second to hand a slip of paper to Midoriya before excitedly hugging her parents. Aggressively whispering about god knows what, probably what they and Shota had discussed, with a sneaky smile and curiosity rolling off of her in waves. Not that she’d ever get answers.

While Midoriya waved goodbye at her for an extended period, as always, Shota took the opportunity to sneak a look at whatever the shiny paper with jewel illustrations on it had said. Yes, he is nosy, but he’s an underground hero with a bitchy attitude. It’s practically expected of him by now. Seconds before the card was haphazardly shoved in the boy’s uniform jacket, Shota finally made out the words. 

Ryukyu Hero Office

Huh?

“Did they end up talking about money?!” Midoriya shouted in curiosity to see if his analysis was right.

“Yes, but not in the way I was expecting. That’s hardly my greatest concern right now, though,” Shota turned to give the problem child a dead stare, “How’s yours and Uraraka’s eBay shop of stolen items going?”

Midoriya froze, hesitating just a few seconds before finally speaking. 

“...Really good. We made 100,000 yen yesterday after selling everything, excluding the money she got from giving Vlad his dog back for a scammed price,”

“Outstanding. Consider investing a portion of the money into hiring a tech service guy to destroy the guy’s computer,” Midoriya muttered an ‘ooooh’ before scribbling it down with stars in his eyes, placing the reminder right underneath the sentence in the notebook that said ‘convince Uraraka to buy All Might merch’.

“Who’s next?”

“The rest of the teachers and I have noticed that your daughter has branched out significantly more than she had last year,” Shota said, carefully observing the parents in front of him.

Mika Jirou was the poster image of a professional attitude: Sitting back with perfect posture, legs crossed, hands on her lap, and glasses glistening as they rested on the bridge of her nose over a blank expression. Her husband on the other hand was the complete opposite. 

Kyotoku Jirou was leaning forward with his back hunched and his fingers interlocked, occasionally squeezing each other every 50 seconds. And that, combined with the bouncing of his right leg and the way his eyes keep flickering back to the door, told Shota he was clearly waiting for something. The question is what.

They balanced each other out, he guessed. But they were a confusing duo, even Midoriya struggled to get a read on what they’d bring up today. The only thing he could wring out of his psychic powers- and Shota knows they have to be psychic powers by now, because how else could he explain the weird hand motions the kid made- were ‘She’s gonna stick to only asking about the education and behavior of Jirou, but he’s gonna impatiently go off course at some point with good intentions’.

Because that’s not concerning at all. 

“Her and Tokoyami appear to enjoy bonding over music and similar clothing styles, with the occasional addition of Kaminari. Ever since the provisional licensing exam last year, she, Shoji, Tsuyu, and especially Momo had gotten a lot closer. The same for Koda after they had fought against Mic for midterms,”

The bouncing of Kyotoku’s foot got faster. Does his love for music go to the extent where he tries to make a poor sounding beat with his foot during a parent-teacher conference?

“And speaking of Mic, he’s been taking her on as a personal student of sorts since they both have quirks related to sounds and vibrations. Not to mention she’s also planning on having a music-related theme as a hero, just like he does,”

And faster. Not as fast as the speed at which Hagakure texts school gossip to Mina during class, but pretty damn close, and that’s a high bar if he’s ever seen one. And speaking of the gossip, which he does not appreciate but unfortunately feels a burning desire to overhear, when did the theory of Thirteen being an assassin come up?

He’s not saying it’s not true, but he doesn’t know who else would have had access to the ‘Don’t touch the lava’ game the staff had played where Thirteen knocked Mic out with a bat. Is Hatsume in on this, too?

“If she doesn’t plan on returning to the hero Amplifier for work studies, I don’t doubt Mic would offer for her to work for him at his agency. Although it would be a weird sight, seeing a hero and a mini hero wearing leather jackets and fingerless gloves with similar quirks. And if that does happen, there will be a high chance that you will receive an ‘anonymous’ phone call from Todoroki doing a poor job at making his voice unidentifiable where he will interrogate you on whether or not your daughter is the secret love child of Mic. ”

That’s what happened to him last Wednesday for Shinsou, at least. At 3 in the morning. Where he then had to explain and provide extensive records as to why the kid was very,  very  wrong for two hours. As you can probably guess, he was not happy when he got to work only to have the same thing happen at the end of the day, except instead of Shinsou it was Midoriya. He just hopes Inko didn’t also receive a phone call. 

Because if she did, he’s going to fucking kill himself. 

And speaking of Inko, lately Todoroki had set his conspiracy theorist eyes on her for his latest target. Shota saw his notebook on the way to the classroom this morning- after Todoroki had shoved it in his face and frozen his foot to the floor so he couldn’t run away screaming bloody murder- and at the top of the page were the words ‘MIDORIYA INKO: FAITHFULLY MARRIED TO HISASHI MIDORIYA. OR IS SHE? INTERVIEW FROM THE STAR SPANGLED HERO ALL MIGHT ON POSSIBLE SCANDAL PENDING’.

Shota didn’t even want to know what the rest of the- magazine?- page said.

The tapping got faster until suddenly Shota couldn’t bear it anymore. The underground hero leaned down to his left to be at eye level with Jirou’s father. 

“I’m sorry,” He’s not, he’s just annoyed, “are you waiting for something?” Kyotoku’s face heated up ever so slightly at being caught, stuttering a bit before answering, 

“O-oh, my bad! It’s not that I’m waiting for something but rather, erm, someone.” Shota lifted an eyebrow and the man continued, “I may have been mistaken but… I was under the impression that All Might would be here during the meeting today?”

“Oh my god, Kyo,” Jirou’s mother said with exasperation.

Ah, yes. Shota made the foolish mistake of thinking the All Might EffectTM didn’t extend to the parents as well as the students. He also foolishly forgot the major detail of his and Yagi’s meeting with the Jirou’s last year about the dorm rooms: Her father is an absolute fanboy. 

He can’t even imagine how depressed Kyotoku is from being forced to talk with an asshole about his daughter’s education instead of the sugar coating, Ken doll, Pillsbury Doughboy, skeleton reincarnation, blood coughing symbol of peace. Somewhere out there, Midoriya the mind-reader had a stroke. 

The erasure hero sighed. He might as well hand the father a bone.

“Unfortunately, All Might doesn’t have a teaching degree,” 

Shota wishes he did, though, the guy needs some serious help after he made little to no improvement in his teaching skills since last year. Hell, his advice to his successor was to imagine an ‘egg in a microwave’ when controlling a centuries-old superpower. And don’t mistake this as him thinking that Gran Torino is any better, because his wisdom was to kick Midoriya in the face and tell him to imagine a taiyaki in a microwave.

“Which means he’s not technically allowed to conduct these meetings. Although, if you’d really like to know what he has to say about your daughter’s skills, I could just go to the teacher’s lounge and steal the little notebook he carries around all day that he probably writes all his observations in,”

“Oh, it’s not that at all! From what Kyouka has been telling us, I assume you’re around your students more often than All Might is, I don’t doubt what you’ve been telling us,”  Don’t try to flatter him now, you already broke his cold, dead heart.  “I just had a couple questions for him, you know, the kind of basic trivia I could never find the answers to on fan forums?”

...What.

Kyotoku must have taken his silence as permission to elaborate, so he painfully did so.

“If I manage to get the information, I’ll be a legend on the site!” The blonde man was practically lighting up the room with his pure excitement, “Although, if you have personal information on All Might that you could pass on then I could ask you the questions I had prepared instead of him!”

“Yeah… Sorry, I don’t think I do. Unlike the other kids my age, I didn’t spend five hours a day researching trivia facts about All Might until unfortunately coming across a website full of traumatizing fanart-” The door of the classroom slammed open. 

Ah right, Shota forgot that oddly specific sentences summoned the green demon himself.

The three adults turned to face the source of the sound, coming face to face with the sight of Midoriya, wild curls looking even wilder as he stood panting in the doorway with his notebook and pencil in hand. After a few more awkward seconds of heavy breathing- which is weird, considering he was only three feet away from the door. And Jirou must agree if the incredulous look on her face as she sat cross-legged on the problem child’s little desk is anything to by- Midoriya held up the notebook that had a million All Might stickers on the front and spoke.

“I’ve been preparing my whole life for this. What questions do you have, because I promise I have all the answers with evidence to back them up.”

Kyotoku grinned.

Oh my fucking god

Shota had many experiences these last two weeks. The most notable ones being how he had to actually justify the statement that he didn’t have a secret love child, how Midoriya did what he had been trying to do for years and figured out a way to get revenge on Nezu, and then receiving Nezu’s cryptic little notebook that basically said he was dead meat. 

But through all of that, he had hoped that the worst would never happen. He hoped that even though countless signs and events were leading up to this, and that he probably should count himself lucky it hadn’t happened sooner judging by the painful field trip to the mall for hero merch two days ago, that Midoriya would never make him sit through an All Might fanboy session.

But then he did, like the devil incarnate he is. 

Kyotoku asked basic questions at first- What’s All Might’s birthday? What is his favorite food? Is he a dog person or a cat person? Which Midoriya responded to with ‘cat’, so Shota may consider changing his opinion of Yagi over- but then it got concerningly more specific. 

What was his most embarrassing moment? Being mistaken as an American hero caused security to almost kick him out of the top ten heroes of Japan event. 

What hobby did he try to do but ultimately failed at? Scrapbooking. 

What was he most afraid of? Besides the apparent confidential answer, Nezu. Which Shota can relate to. But right after Nezu, Midoriya Inko. Which Shota may relate to one day if she ever gets word of Todoroki’s theories about the father of her child, the other father of her child, her ‘secret lover’, and her family members and ancestry if what Shota fleetingly caught a glimpse of in Todoroki’s notebook are right.

And finally, who was his favorite teacher during high school? To which Midoriya responded with: Nana Shimura. If Shota remembers correctly from the insanely detailed story Midoriya told him last week, that was All Might’s predecessor who gave him One for All. The kid doesn’t exactly know what happened to her, and by default neither does Shota. But hey, it’s none of his business.

It’s only Midoriya’s business because he’s basically All Might’s child, DNA be damned. 

When the questionnaire had finally finished, Kyotoku gave Midoriya a bow of respect as if he was some god of wisdom. And before the kid retreated back to his desk like a goblin back to its cave, and before the couple themselves had left, Jirou’s father had handed him a business card. So yeah, his student is now the official All Might information broker to his other student’s father for a steady income of 2,000 yen every three pages. Amazing. 

“ So, Mido,”

Hm? What?

“ What are you doing for work studies?”

Shota furrowed his eyebrows as he rolled his chair closer to the door, freezing as he tried to focus on the sounds coming through more clearly. ‘Mido’ answered who the underground hero assumed was Jirou.

“ Oh, uh, I’m not sure yet! I could always go back to Endeavor again with Todoroki, cause I’m not sure if Kaachan is returning, but I don’t know if that’s really what I want to do this time. And there’s always the other hero, but...”

“Welllll if you were thinking of expanding your horizons, Amplifier is always on the hunt,”

Huh?

“ Huh?”

“He extended an invitation to me for work studies yesterday, said that this time we’d be focusing on weaponizing the vibrations I can make with my quirk. Ya know, the ones that shake up the ground and break it to pieces like a badass? That one. And he also said he’s trying to find more students that could also benefit from those lessons. And if I remember correctly, those finger flicks of yours also make vibrations, no matter how little power you put into it,”

“So, wait, you’re telling me I should interview for Amplifier’s agency?”

“You wouldn’t even need to interview, I was gonna tell you to apply either way but he directly told me to pass on the offer. Just give them a call and you’re in. And don’t worry! It won’t just be me and you, Shindo from Ketsubutsu and Honenuki from class 2-b are coming along, too.”

“Oh! But-”

“Just think about it, okay? No pressure, you still have a few days to make your decision, but you can't start even earlier if you’d like. And when you decide, yes or no but hopefully yes, gimme a call! I’ll be waiting!”

Shota heard Jirou’s footsteps slowly get quieter as she in theory ran off to catch up with her parents, and judging by the complete silence she left in her wake, Midoriya was still thinking over the conversation. He leaned back in his chair as he awaited the third parent to come in.

So Midoriya has a few work-study offers, huh?

Mitsuki Bakugo leaned back in her chair as she gave a silent nod at Shota’s summary of her child’s progress, most likely having been used to everything he’s said by now. One of the highest grades in all core subjects, one of the best performers in hero training, and has a bit of a- major- temper problem, but one that Hound Dog is currently working on getting to the bottom of. So nothing too bad.

At least not for today, when he doesn’t have enough information.  

Although the underground hero was able to catch the ghost of a smile on the blonde woman’s face when he mentioned how her son and his ragtag group of friends- officially labeled the Bakusquad, according to the all-knowing Midoriya- were closer these days.

 And he wasn’t blind to the way her eyes widened to the size of saucers when he brought up the fact that Bakugo tried to make small talk with Midoriya at some point, even if that ended with him having to drag the kicking green bean away before they could stab each other with stationary and decorative clothing accessories. He guesses seeing signs of the two boys being semi-civil to each other wasn’t the norm in this couple’s life. 

But while the topic of Midoriya was brought up, he did notice a slightly more intrigued change in Mitsuki’s demeanor. One that came to fruition when she finally asked the question that had been burning on her tongue for a while.

“Nice to hear my brat is finally getting along with Izuku instead of blowing up him and everything he loves,” Shota didn’t like how casually she said that, “Makes me wonder if Inko heard or saw any of the changes, too, poor gal never stops worrying about her son, and rightfully so. Did Katsuki happen to mention anything Inko said lately or-?”

“I don’t remember him mentioning any of the topics discussed between him and Midoriya’s mother during their tea party gossip sessions, no,” He responded simply. Mitsuki’s eyes widened. 

“He told you?!”

“Not Bakugo, it was Midoriya. He didn’t seem too happy about it, either,” 

Although Shota still thinks his mother is planning some sort of revenge. After all, one doesn’t gain the title of being Nezu’s favorite parent without being at least a little bit terrifying.

“Well damn, that’s the first I’ve heard of little Izuku ever telling his teachers shit,” Pardon? “I remember the days when I’d see him walking home from school with bruises on his face and said he fell down the stairs. I wish he would have at least gone to the nurse’s office for an injury as serious as that, but the damn kid never even got a band-aid.”  Pardon?  “Why’d he tell you, anyway?”

“People tell me a lot of strange secrets because they think I don’t care. Which I don’t. About them. Or anyone else. But I do care about what information I could trade a person for them to buy me a cup of coffee, or just never breath in my general direction ever again, so I still listen,”

“...I can respect that,”

“Good to know. Now, what do you remember about your son’s experience at Aldera?”

Tensei propped his head up with one arm on Shouta’s desk, smirking for a reason that couldn’t possibly be good. The underground hero could already see Tenya peeking through the door to make sure his older brother didn’t pull anything stupid, because they both know he would by now. They had already talked about the kid’s grades and behavior, which as usual was pretty much perfect. 

“So, Sho-chan, how was the strip club?”

“Go fuck yourself,”

“Love you, too. Anyway, do you know where I can find a Hatsume Mei? I checked a couple of online forums and she messaged me back saying she had the materials to build me a rocket-powered wheelchair with a mini-fridge built inside, and I’m not ashamed to admit I want that very badly,”

“You’ll have to pry her location from my cold, dead hands,” He doesn’t need to worry about Majima spilling her location either since he’s sure the guy doesn’t want this invention to be made any more than he or the rest of Japan does. 

“Or I could bribe you with cat cafe coupons?”

“Fucking rich kids,” He said, already pulling out his phone to search up the most expensive cat cafes to take advantage of in this situation.

“Also, did Midoriya choose a place to have his work-study at yet? My agency could always use some more speedsters,”

Shouta sat contemplating as the small green snake circled the bottom of his neck, making a few loops before settling in a spiral on his shoulder. The creature’s journey began when it popped out of Koda’s backpack- quite unexpectedly, might he add- and immediately latched onto his very weirded out self’s fingers, slithering it’s way up till it was wrapped on his forehead. 

Coincidentally, it was at that point that Vlad had passed by the classroom door’s window at just the wrong moment. He had turned his head only to catch the sight of Shouta, eyes crimson red and hair floating because there’s no way he’s getting this creature tangled inside, with the snake forming a crown around the top of his head. It only took him two seconds of horrified staring until he screamed “I KNEW YOU WERE MEDUSA!” before running off to god knows where with Midoriya calling out his name.

And that was a new low. For both of them.

But besides the snake, there also happened to be other weird animals taking over his desk at the moment, as well. A turtle was acting as his new paperweight, a woodpecker that kept dunking its head in his coffee mug- ew, by the way-, a raccoon rummaging in the trash can, and a white bunny perched on Koda’s lap. What is this, a zoo?

Shota finally focused his eyes on the boy in front of him, who looked apologetic about his certain snake situation, and spoke. 

“Koda. Hello. Where are your parents?”

“They’re with Ishiyama-sensei for their scheduled appointment,”  Koda signed back. 

“They scheduled two appointments at the same time?” He asked. Koda’s eyes widened for a split second at the ease that Shouta understood him before shaking his head. 

“Not exactly. They scheduled an appointment with Ishiyama-sensei, and then I used this time as an appointment with you,”

Oh my god, did Koda just steal someone’s appointment? Is this his rebellious phase? Should he snap a picture for Yagi’s failed scrapbook or something to savor the moment?

“Who did this time originally belong to then?” 

“Midoriya,”  Of course,  “Ishiyama-sensei’s classroom is down the hall from this one, so I asked Midoriya when his parents were coming and he said they were both away on business trips. Then I asked him what he was gonna do with the appointment his mother scheduled in advance, and he said he was going to use it to ask you more questions about your quirk,”  Koda signed. 

Even without his analysis notebooks, the kid still finds a way to trap people into quirk interrogations. Amazing. But also something to be taken with caution, either because Nezu had been monitoring Midoriya very closely since yesterday or because Shouta still hasn’t found a way to make sure those analysis notes don’t fall into the wrong hands by mistake. 

But besides that, what else could the kid possibly need to know about his quirk? The last time he checked he had shut that telekinesis theory down fast, despite how nice being able to float knives would have been. Unless he had somehow found more evidence that Shota will have to debunk later today. 

“But after I explained to him what my cause was-”  So this is a rebellion? “ He began crying before saying I could have his time slot along with his endless support,”

The problem child also must have known it was against the rules, which he guess explains why the kid didn’t give any analysis beforehand even though he actually could this time. It was a shame Midoriya was scheduled to go to class when Tensei came in, he could have used an extra hand in kicking him the hell out. But at least he also wasn’t there for Mitsuki’s appointment. 

“Well, Koda, this may come as a shock to you but this is actually supposed to be a parent-teacher conference. Not…” He nodded his head towards the animals, the snake moving with him, “...this. Your cause. What is your cause, actually?”

“A rebellion,”  Called it. “ Remember when UA hosted a school-wide festival because the general education kids needed to destress after all the villain attacks and media coverage?”  Shota nodded,  “Well similarly to that, I noticed that whenever someone in 2-a got the chance to hang out with Yuwai-chan-”

Shota looked down for a second to stare at ‘Yuwai-chan’, Koda’s pet bunny. Inky black eyes met bright red. His eye twitched, and so did the creature’s pink nose. Brat.

“-they seemed to calm down a lot. But Yuwai-chan alternates between living here and living with my family, so she can’t always be around to help them. And because of that, I have a proposal to make: We get a class pet to live in the dorms with us, and it can be any of the ones I brought.”

Ah, there’s the kicker. 

Shota fell into the depths of his mind as Koda pulled out a PowerPoint presentation and read his reasoning from the slides.  

UA has a strict no pets policy, and they have ever since the school had been founded. Sure the security cameras are meant to prevent villain breaches but it’s also to track down any animals so they can be kicked out right away. The only reason Yuwai-chan was allowed in the dorms was that the rulebook didn’t account for animals that were only visiting, and since the bunny switched between living areas, she technically fell into that area. 

Shota applauded Koda’s efforts to use the loopholes that day, he just wished there were more to take advantage of. And that might have been possible had the creature who wrote the rule book been anyone other than Nezu. Although he can’t exactly blame the rat, because as a former science experiment he guesses seeing pets with their owners would become sort of a soft spot over the years, even if the animal really did adore their owner. 

Pets are to Nezu like Vlad is to Shota, something he’d like to leave his sight forever or to set free in their original habitat. Whether that be the deep forest or at the muckiest part of an American restaurant’s bathroom toilet. But while he’d never say it out loud to his boss, sometimes he wished the rules were just a tad bit looser in that department. Maybe then he could actually adopt the one thing he’s wanted for the last 30 years. 

He guesses what he’s trying to say is that no matter how good Koda’s intentions are, it’s simply not possible. Shota sighed as the snake hissed in synchronization. 

“Look, Koda,” He began, cutting the kid off, “It’s nice what you’re trying to do for your classmates, and I can assure you that Hound Dog is working on that at the moment, but unfortunately Nezu would never allow you to-”

A ruffling sound came from Koda’s bag as something inside it shifted. Twisting and turning until finally, the creature in question had emerged. Small nose, black fur, two striking yellow eyes staring into his soul, and a slowly swaying tail. 

It was a cat. 

Koda’s eyes alternated between the wide-eyed Shota and the oblivious cat, watching and waiting to see what would happen at the end of this silence. Finally, the underground hero spoke. 

“...I’ll see what I can do,”

And if Koda walked out of that classroom with a shy but satisfied smile on his face and five animals trailing behind him, the cat unfortunately included, well, then that was nobody's business except theirs. And Nezu’s, since he’s going to be receiving a very defeated sounding phone call later today about bending the rules for a certain feline.

And also the snake, since he’s been sitting on Shota’s shoulder the entire time and Koda forgot to take him back, as Midoriya dutifully pointed out to him while he leaned against the doorframe.

“Aren't you gonna tell Koda to come back for his snake?” The kid asked, currently engaging in a staring contest with the similarly green-eyed creature. It was an odd sight, even for him.

“He’ll remember eventually. And besides, the snake has some use being here,”

“Like scaring Vlad off by convincing him you’re Medusa’s reincarnation?” The underground hero nodded, “I don’t really blame him for thinking that though, especially since Medusa’s power made her freeze anyone to stone and you can essentially do the same thing with the shock-factor that comes with your erasure qui- His posture is stiff, he has no visible emotion, and his eyes are straight ahead,”

“What?” Shota asked, confused by the sudden change in topic. But Midoriya continued even faster, face eerily emotionless as he stared past Shota and the snake at something.

“He’s not nervous about anything, this is strictly business for him. He’ll want to get straight to the point for what he came for- grades, performance, and behavior- which is something you should already have prepared. Go forward with any praises you planned but it cannot be limited to that, he’ll be expecting harsh criticism that you shouldn’t hold back on. If possible, don’t mention any criticism that has to do with physical abilities, keep it as metal-based as possible. If you withhold information, he’ll know, and he’ll be angry,”

Growing increasingly concerned, Shota finally made the decision to turn around to see what Midoriya was staring so unblinkingly at. Only to immediately regret it. 

Standing there in all of his flaming, 6’4 glory was the man both of them had been trying to forget about today, one they both knew was coming but wished wasn’t. Endeavor. 

Shota’s always known the guy was an asshole, even before the sports festival last year and the constant insulting remarks made towards All Might. But ever since he read Hound Dog’s text from last week, he hasn’t been able to shake the feeling that there was something much worse about the guy that the public hadn’t been exposed to. And that suspicion alone, as small and possibly inconsequential as it may be, was enough to make him want to keep the guy ten feet away from him and his students. 

Shota took a subtle step back into the classroom as he lowered his voice.

“Midoriya-” Pull some random fact out of that notebook to distract Enji, call Hatsume and tell her to bring a fire hydrant, grab three smoke bombs in his desk drawer and throw it as fast as possible,  anything  to get this guy away. But before Shota could say anything else to the now pale-faced boy, 

RIIIINNGGGGGGGGG!

The school bell rang, signaling the end of the fifth period and officially starting sixth period, a class that Midoriya was actually required to go to. Meaning there was nothing either of them could do to delay the meeting any longer, and it was foolish of them to dream they could. Sighing, Shota plucked the snake from his shoulder and plopped it onto Midoriya’s, who had a mini seizure for a second before once again engaging in a staring contest with it, and muttered six words as Endeavor neared.

“Run while you can, problem child.” 

Shota doesn’t waste any time trying to get a read on Enji as they sit across from each other at his desk, he knows better than to stray from Midoriya’s analysis by now. Because he wasn’t like any of the other parents; no more smirks and shenanigans, just business. Because that’s how this guy treats every aspect of his life anyway, and Shota will have to respect that. All he could do at the moment was be a regular heroics teacher and pray he didn’t leave work today with a third-degree burn.

So that’s what he did. He cuts straight to the chase, describing how Todoroki is in the top 5 in academics but still needs work in hero art class. According to Midnight, at least. In Shota’s opinion, it’s perfectly fine for Todoroki to see the logical side only and ignore all symbolism, but he’d rather die than say that out loud to Enji or the R-rated hero herself. And he guesses his opinion is stupid either way since reading deeper into some things is a necessary part of one aspect of hero work. 

He talks about how Todoroki takes things too literally sometimes, which may eventually affect communication between him, coworkers, civilians in danger, or reporters in the future, so it’s best they work on that problem right away. 

Shota’s mind still hasn’t recovered from the shock it had when Todoroki legitimately thought his looks would kill people after a misunderstood comment from Mount Lady

And as Endeavor probably knows but never seems to apply to real life, publicity for spotlight heroes matters. But once again, Shota would rather die than say that last thing out loud. 

Shota then goes on to say that Todoroki has finally come to understand the idea of self-preservation. Balancing out both sides of his power doesn’t seem to be a major problem for him anymore, and the risk of getting a heat stroke or hypothermia isn’t as prominent as before. He’s also made drastic improvements with his use of fire since last year’s sports festival, even getting to the point where he’s able to create wisps of blue fire for short periods.

Part of his mind thinks back to last Wednesday when Todoroki was reading out his theories, the most notable one- besides the Midoriya one, of course, nothing tops that- being the Touya one. Touya Todoroki, the fourth and eldest child of the family that passed away in a tragic accident, theorized to be the same person as Dabi, the villain who could also produce blue flames that cremate anything it touches. Blue flames.

Shota blinks and the memory is gone. 

Throughout the entire conversation, Endeavor rarely speaks back apart from a few small comments. Before now he had never seen the number 1 hero so… tame, but he’s not complaining. He prefers it this way. He’d rather not make any small talk with this man, and the faster they finish talking, the faster the guy’s out of this building. t’s better that he goes straight to the point like this.

So you can imagine his disappointment when Enji decides to change course. 

“That’s good to hear,” Enji says, blinking a little himself after the mention of blue flames, “And thank you, by the way, for staying on topic. I’m sure you can understand when I say that being a hero for so many years eventually lowers one’s tolerance for wastes of time,”

Shota does understand, so what exactly is Enji doing right now?

“It’s not a problem,” He responds shortly, “It’s my job, after all. But about the-”

“Yes, your job,” Enji interrupts, and Shota tries not to let his annoyance show, “I’d imagine being a hero and a teacher at the same time is quite the difficult feat,,”

Okayyyyyy?

“I guess? I’ve never put much thought into it,” 

Especially since that kind of situation isn’t exclusive to him. He has two jobs, but Mic has three. Working as a teacher, hero, and radio host can’t possibly be easy. Although he assumes the hours are about the same since Mic got to have shorter shifts as a hero when he first started the Put Your Hands Up radio show. 

Actually, now that he thinks about it, all the teachers at UA got to spend fewer hours on the field when they started working as teachers here. All except him. Huh. Maybe it’s because he’s an underground hero and his beginning work as a teacher wouldn’t have interfered with his hours in the first place, so the commission thought they could just leave it as it was.

If so, that’s pretty damn shitty of them. But whatever, it’s not like he would have taken hours off either way if given the choice.

“You should, not everyone who works here could pull it off. Then again, if everything I’ve heard about you is true then it’s not exactly out of the ordinary for you to be ahead of them,”  Eh?  “You were the only hero here to get their proper teaching degree, yes? I would have hoped the others followed your example,”

Well just because they didn’t have a teaching degree that didn’t make them bad at their jobs. Hizashi mastered the English language after he went through his American pop culture phase when they were 20, and even without that, he went through the effort of taking night classes just so he could make notes on how his teacher acted and so didn’t let his students down. 

He did let Shota down, though, with how many times he just had to rickroll him at 3 in the morning. 

The same hard-working nature applies to Majima, Ishiyama,  especially Nemuri , and hell, even Vlad. He may despise the guy but he can’t deny that he knows what he’s doing most of the time. The only person he thinks Endeavor’s statement applies to is All Might. Because let’s be honest the guy is gonna get some student killed during a training exercise one day if he doesn’t get his shit together.

Yagi is smart, they all know it. Shota just wishes he would use some of that brain more often now that it’s not focused on his own hero work.

“That’s a reasonable thing to want, but I can assure you that the rest of the staff here are well equipped to teach. And I appreciate the sentiments but this meeting isn’t about me, it’s about your son,”

Shota hoped that would be the end of it, but as expected, nothing ever really goes his way. 

“And I was going to say this earlier but last Wednesday Shoto mentioned a theory he had regarding a certain villain and-”

“They may be well equipped but that certainly doesn’t make them the best of the best, which is what this school represents,” Shota exhaled out of his nose at the interruption, leaning back in his chair and gently placing the papers he was holding back on the desk, knowing they wouldn’t get back on the topic any time soon, “You, on the other hand, meet those standards exactly,”

“I’m not sure if that’s-”

“That’s because you put a great amount of effort into everything you do, you’re a hard worker.” And his coworkers aren’t? “Although it’s a shame that in this day and age, the hardest workers often go unnoticed for the most obscure reasons,” Enji said with a slight frown pulling at his lips.

He’s not exactly wrong with that last part, there are endless examples in this society proving him right. But it’s why he’s even bringing this up that makes Shota want to shut him down as fast as possible. 

“I’m sorry you see it that way,” The underground hero said simply, unfortunately making Enji think that was his cue to elaborate.  Just shut up, please .

“I’m surprised most people don’t see it that way either. Take you, for example.” Please don’t. “Your countless accomplishments are overlooked because of your underground status and quirk type. It shouldn’t be.”

He honestly can’t tell if this is supposed to be motivating, but all he’s hearing is the number 1 hero making a pity party for him. And that’s exactly what he doesn’t want. It’s something he’s been trying to avoid for the last 27 years ever since he got his quirk. And Shota is about to tell him that, but then Enji says something that sends him reeling. 

“In a way, you and I are exactly the same.” What?  What?  Take that back  oh my god-  “Both of us outshined by our brighter and more foolish counterparts,”

Enji’s eyes flicker towards something on Shota’s desk and the underground hero follows his gaze in his confusion, his body freezing when he finally sees what it is. The picture was taken by Hizashi a few years ago that Nemuri forced him to have on his desk. It depicted his two friends drinking milk tea at some cafe- a regular one this time, unfortunately- and himself in the back looking more dead inside than most thought possible.

So… What? Enji saw three heroes and came to the conclusion that whichever one of them looked the most depressed was the only one who deserved their title? Just because two of them were happy that didn’t make them less than him, it didn’t make them weak or stupid, if anything it’s the other way around. Nemuri and Hizashi tried their hardest since high school to get him to be less of a buzzkill, and despite how much he says he hates it- and them- he’d be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate it. He doesn’t even know where he’d be if everyone in his life gave up on him like he eventually gave up on himself.

But no, this guy is calling his friends foolish.

How fucking dare he. 

Shota reached out his hand to make the photo go face down and whipped his eyes back to the man in front of him.

“I know you’re referring to All Might, and I have no opinion on the-“ Forever one-sided and utterly meaningless since Kamino “-rivalry you two share, nor do I care. But don’t drag Nemuri and ‘Zashi into it. I’m perfectly fine with my status as an unknown hero, it was my goal since high school. I never enjoyed publicity as much as either of them. And I’d very much appreciate it if we could get back on the topic of your son,”

Enji halted for a second as he mouthed the nickname ‘Zashi’, letting it roll over his tongue to contemplate every possibility for what it could imply. Shota found that he didn’t like that.

“I never enjoyed publicity either. I didn’t want to be the best just so I could prove something to others, I was doing it to prove something for myself. Much like you.”

Shota didn’t want to prove anything to others either, at least he didn’t think so. But that didn’t automatically shove him in the same category as this buffoon, right? Unlike Enji, he didn’t want to be the best. The high grades he got back in the third year of high school were just a way for him to measure how efficient he’d be on the field and help others, it wasn’t to raise his own self-esteem. 

The underground hero shook his head slowly, but Enji continued. 

“But then I learned that the only way I could accomplish my goal was if I forced down my pride-“ Shota forced down a scoff. “and gave in to the paparazzi. Giving in- selling merchandise, participating in interviews, and making an effort to be the center of attention- was just another hurdle I needed to cross. Because the hero rankings don’t just look at statistics for how many villains I imprisoned and people I saved, they look at popularity. Ignoring that fact would only hold a person back, as I have realized. And in my opinion, you have the potential to do the same.”

God damnit, that’s not his point! Does he not get it? Publicity is not a hurdle Shota needs to cross because he simply doesn’t want anything it could give him. He doesn’t care about his ranking or his material gains from this job. He just…

“You’re still pretty young, it’s not too late for you to break into the game yet. Each hero has a different persona they mask themselves with that goes along with their quirk and fighting style, one that their target audience will respond best to. In your case, you’d be popular with the teenagers these days who have become overly fond of exclusively wearing black clothing everywhere they go and taking up an attitude with authority figures. You are after all known for having no patience with other heroes. You’re also known for scaring people with your quirk, teenagers like scary things,”

Is he honestly implying that he wants Shota to turn himself into a walking and talking advertisement? And for who, teenagers that think they’re edgy and judge their self-worth based on who got the least amount of sleep? He’s seen what that does to heroes, and he can say for sure that it’s not for him. 

Even the thought of it makes him sick. 

“Not to mention if you styled yourself as you did at the Kamino press conference more often you’d be popular with young women in their early twenties-“

“No,” Shota said quickly, stomach-churning at the statement that he was trying to permanently banish from his memory. 

Is this what spotlight heroes do in their free time. Overanalyze all the ways they can objectify themselves to manipulate the public? He doesn’t know whether he should laugh, pity them, or pity himself for actually being exposed to this new information.

If it’s bad just thinking about it, what’s it like experiencing it? He’s sure some of the less known heroes who aren’t exactly underground either have it easier, but what about Hawks? What about Miruko and Nemuri since god knows women have it way worse? What about  All Might ? If he’s been Japan’s golden boy since before his official career started, way back in his first year of UA, then...

Shota tried to control his facial expressions, but judging by Enji’s furrowed brows he wasn’t doing a good job at hiding his disgust. 

The fire hero once again mouths the nickname ‘Zashi’ to himself, and Shota wished he knew why.

“No,” The erasure hero said again but calmer and less urgent this time, “that wouldn’t matter. None of that would matter. I don’t want-“

“Frankly, the numbers don’t pay attention to what you do or don’t want. Without taking these steps your work ethic and accomplishments would all be for nothing.” 

Shota steeled his gaze, he’d had enough of this bullshit. He knows he could have been a spotlight hero, Nezu told him this countless amount of times just so he could make sure he was 100% confident in the career path he was taking. And he was. And it’s not like anything the fire hero is saying right now would change his mind, if anything it makes him glad he was decently smart as a third year. 

“You can’t be sure I’ve accomplished much at all,” 

According to Nezu Lesson #32, one of the perks of being an underground hero is that your statistics aren’t available online. There's no possible way for Endeavor to confirm his theories.

Huh, guess it runs in the family.

“Oh, but I can. I’ve seen your records at the Hero Commission’s office. Quite impressive, might I add,”

...What?

“You… saw my records?” Shota asked, confusion lacing his features, “How is that even-”

Nezu Lesson #15: The higher your ranking as a hero, the more privileges granted to you by the Hero Commission. From the moment someone breaks into the top 10 they're practically royalty. 

Their name is added to the priority list for any meetings they may want to schedule with HC directors, more time slots for their interviews suddenly open up, they get brand and merchandise deals rolling in- everything. Everything, and for the top hero, included classified access to a large portion of the HC’s files.

His file, more specifically.

Hell, not even Nezu had access to it. All the information the rat has on him was either observed by himself or a result of his own digging. But even everything Nezu has on him is nothing compared to what the HC has, that establishment has eyes on people the moment their quirk comes in. Sometimes even from the moment they’re born, depending on who their parents are.

“You were looking through my records?” 

“Of course, I can’t trust Shoto with just anybody, after all. As I said, I only want the best for my successor, and I'll do as much research as I have to to achieve that, no matter how extensive the situation calls for it to be,”

That’s a pretty concerning way to phrase it.

“How extensive?” He asked. Enji narrowed his eyes and the emotion that Shota couldn't place flashed through them briefly.

“They have quite a lot of information at the commission's headquarters, as I’m sure you may know. It covers almost anything from your hero status statistics, school records stretching decades into the past, even familial records,” Enji didn’t miss the way Shota microscopically tensed up at the last one, “It makes sense, doesn’t it, to see if you’re a potential threat?”

“Why would I ever seriously be considered a threat?”

Oh, I don’t know, maybe because last night you promised yourself you were going to manipulate as many people as you could into believing you're a decent person so you can back the Hero Commission into a corner and force them to keep you as vice-principal of UA as you destroy them from the inside-

Shut up, mental Shota.

Enji’s serious face somewhat fades as he slips into a falsely casual but still somehow menacing attitude, acting like he has no idea what the underground hero really wants to know.

“I’m not sure. After all, you’re a man trusted by fellow heroes and the entire Musutafu police force for the extensive hours you work and the villains you’ve taken down. Not to mention your students seem very fond of you. You of all people wouldn’t wish harm upon the commission's ideals, or any of the other heroes such as myself, yes?”

The inclusion of Enji himself sets Shota on edge. If he knows he did nothing wrong, nothing that would go against the morals he knows Shota has, then there should be no reason to be concerned for himself, right? People only get nervous when their own safety is at risk, besides that they’re nothing but insensitive robots.

Does he know Shota doesn’t trust him? But he kept his thoughts to himself, never even shared it with Midoriya or Nezu. So really there’s no possible way that-

UA Code of Conduct #23: Parents and legal guardians must be notified of any and all actions the school takes for the sake of their child’s health, both mental and physical. This applies but is not limited to: The prescription of medical drugs, visits to the hospital, appointments with Recovery Girl, and counseling sessions.

Doctor-patient confidentiality still applies, but it’d be illegal for them not to inform the parents of their child’s appointment. Especially if the child has chosen to make it a weekly thing.

Enji heard about the new and improved schedule and realized that Hound Dog is close to whatever Shoto has to reveal about him. All that information is in a glass bottle just waiting to explode.

“If you were, then I’d have to do everything in my power to shut you down. And as heroes that deal with more serious villain cases know, like you and I, information like the ones HC has on you can be deadly if shared with the wrong person. Or shared with everyone at once,” The man says, the fire around him seeming to scorch the air just a little bit hotter, “It’s a good thing you aren’t a threat, then?”

And he wants Shota to know that he’ll ruin his life the moment the first crack is made. 

Nezu Lesson #3: Pick and choose your battles.

The underground hero ignores the ice in his veins and sickness in his gut as he forces the most sincere facial expression he can, which just happens to be a resting, boring bitch face. He’s sure that if actually attempted to give a calming smile, Enji would immediately know something is up.

“Of course,”

Enji gives a satisfied nod and checks the watch on the wall beside him before standing up. Shota stands with him.

“It appears our time has run out,” Thank fuck, “While I would have preferred to discuss the other matter a little longer, I’m glad I was able to clear everything up. And discuss Shoto, of course,”

Brutal.

The underground hero is just about to open the door for the man when all of a sudden he pulls out two business cards and hands them to him. Both black and sleek in design with the small logo of a flame with pointed edges on the front, the known logo of the Endeavor agency, as well as a phone number on the back.

“Whenever you get the chance, please do pass this along to that Midoriya student of yours,” Shota feels sick again, “Bakugo may have favored going to Miruko’s agency this semester, but the offer for another one of Shoto’s… friends to have a work-study at my agency is always open. He seems to work better when his classmates are around,”

 Or maybe he works best when he’s not alone with you.  Aizawa nodded- internally promising himself to make as many vomiting noises as he can when he hands this to Midoriya later to let him know it’s a bad decision- but tilted his head in confusion.

“Why two?” Enji stares at him.

“The other one is for you. I do appreciate the hard work you put into both your teaching and hero careers, even if you allow yourself to be overshadowed by others. And remember you’ll always have a favor owed to you from the number one hero, as thanks for training my son properly. Feel free to call if you ever find yourself in a bad situation, or if you consider following my advice towards becoming a spotlight hero. Which I strongly recommend you do. Take care, Aizawa-kun,”

Shota barely registers the door shutting behind Enji as he makes his way out, his full attention resting on the cards in his hand that seem to weigh a million pounds. He thinks back to their conversation and how Midoriya ended up being right in the end with his analysis. 

The fire hero did come here with a purpose in mind, only it wasn’t his son’s progress. It was making sure Shota didn’t know enough about whatever their little situation was, but smart enough to recognize the consequences that could be thrust upon him if he did.

Shota plops back down in his desk chair and ignores the way his heart hammers in his ears. Out of anger or something akin to fear… he doesn’t know. But as he begins planning his notes for Mina’s parents, the weight of the card feels just a little bit heavier sitting in his pocket.

Watching his students from his desk right now he could tell they were nervous about whatever he said to their parents- except Midoriya, of course-, but they honestly don’t have anything to worry about. Besides some mentions of missing assignments or quieting down in class, there was nothing too serious for the majority of them. 

Sure there were times when it got so weird that even Nemuri gave him the ‘what the fuck’ look as she passed by the window, and yeah at some point Hizashi handed him a weirdly pristine envelope saying it was from one of the parents to be opened later- which earned another ‘what the fuck’ look- but it wasn’t  that  ba- It was. It really was. 

The Yaoyorozu couple probably didn’t intend to shove their money in his face, but they shoved their money in his face. If he inhaled really hard he could practically taste the 24 karat gold on their wrists. 

The same thing happened with Tensei, only instead of fancy watches, it was exclusive cat cafe coupons. But whatever, it’s not like Shota minded it that much with him. Because hey, if he ignores the constant jabs about strip clubs, the horrifying nightmares of Tensei trying to continue hero work in a transformer wheelchair, and the inevitable death threats from Majima, it’s basically a win-win.

Unfortunately, Tenya didn’t agree. As soon as he heard the word ‘bribe’ leave his older brother’s mouth a little too loudly, he rammed through the door and rolled Tensei out, the retired hero cackling the entire way.

At least he got a semi-win with Mitsuki, the things she had to say about Aldera being how the teachers were nothing but suck-ups trying to get brownie points out of her family. Constantly praising Katsuki whenever the three of them were in hearing range, and according to other parents, even when they weren’t. 

She claimed she knew her son, and because she knew him so well it was odd never receiving any negative statements about his temper or volume. It’s like anything even remotely bad was immediately swept under the rug.

Shota doesn’t doubt that reports of bullying were included. 

Kirishima’s parents? The nicest people he’s ever met. At every moment throughout the appointment, he felt the strange need to apologize in their presence purely because he couldn’t live up to their sunshine and manliness standards. The same could be said for Koda’s parents, but all they did was sit and smile at him as he reported everything about their child. Not a single reply, just complete silence.

They’re his favorite humans in the entire world. 

Uraraka’s appointment speaks for itself, and so does Enji’s. But he just wished the Todoroki drama ended there. Because as soon as all the parent-teacher meetings were wrapped up and his class came rushing back into their desks, Todoroki came rushing to his desk. His eyes slightly more wide than normal, his pen open in his hand, and his conspiracy theory notebook slammed wide open on the hardwood. It would take the bare minimum of an IQ level to know what was about to happen. 

“Are Hound Dog and Officer Sansa mortal enemies?” Todoroki whispered to make sure no other classmates could hear him. 

“As far as I know, no. But I did catch them growling and hissing at each other one night after going out for drinks. Natural instinct, I guess,” 

“Have you ever been compelled to pet officer Sansa?” The kid asked after scribbling something down. 

“No,” ...Is what he told Todoroki. But he refuses to lie to himself and say that he’s never had to physically restrain himself from doing so. 

“Has Sansa ever tried to kill Principal Nezu?”

“God no, he’s not that suicidal. And what’s with all these questions about Sansa?” Now that he thinks about it, when has Todoroki ever even made contact with the officer? The kid’s eyes narrowed as he flipped the page. 

“Have  you  ever tried to kill principal Nezu?”

Shota lifted both eyebrows as he contemplated the question. Has he tried to kill Nezu? No, not like anyone ever could. Ruin the life of Nezu, though? Yes. But that doesn’t exactly count since it was the homework the rat personally assigned to him every few weeks when he got bored back in highschool. Never managed to do it.

The black-haired man turned his head slightly towards the camera in their classroom, the same camera connected to the surveillance system that he knew Nezu was constantly flickering channels between and pointed a finger gun at it.

“I can only dream,”

Todoroki quickly shut his notebook with a  clap!  and gave a look that was more embarrassing than it was threatening given the situation they’re in. 

“The lies stop here, Aizawa-sensei,” The kid whispered in the most intense way he could manage, “I saw the page Izuchan was writing in yesterday, I know you have a telekinesis quirk,” Nope. Nuh-uh. He’s not going to spend another hour defending him and his erasure quirk-  exclusively  erasure quirk- today. 

“Todoroki I don’t have a-”

“And if that was true, I guess it would go against everything my other theory stood for,” Oh? “It would mean that Izuchan should have been born with some type of telekinesis quirk, too, instead of being quirkless because of erasure. So…” Todoroki mumbled something and Shota gave a deadpan stare.

“What did you say?”

Another mumble.

“Todoroki.”

“I guess Izuchan isn’t your secret love child. My theory was wrong.” The boy said with a huff and Shota mentally pumped a fist in the air with how relieved he was. Free at last, free at last.

 Of course, this newfound freedom will only last so long as the boy never learns that he doesn’t actually have a telekinesis quirk… And if he’s being honest it would be pretty rude of him to lie about something as major as this… Goddamnit, he’s gonna have to be a decent person for once, isn’t he? 

Ugh, just when things were looking up. He sighed and opened his mouth to come clean. But before he could utter a single word, his student was already moving on to something much worse. 

“And yet my other theory was spot on.”  Come again?  “Assuming you aren’t lying, and you and Inko Midoriya aren’t secret lovers,” Someone come kill him, please. “That still doesn’t explain the uncanny similarities you and Izuchan share. And that’s when it occurred to me: You also share many similarities with his mother,”

No.

“Exhibit A: You both have telekinesis quirks, despite your being very minor and limited to items making direct contact with your body,”

“There are over 5.6 billion quirks on this planet, kid, a bunch of them are bound to have minor telekinesis quirks, which I don’t even ha-”

“Exhibit B: You both wear similar hairstyles sometimes, with a small bun tied in the back but hair still on the shoulders. And exhibit C: you both have extreme parental tendencies.” 

“Take that back,”

“I stand by what I said last week, where the combined features of you and Midoriya-san make the result of Izuchan. But if you aren’t his father, that would mean the features would have originated from a source before both of you, but the same exact source nonetheless. It would also mean that you would have to be genetically connected to Izuchan in a different way. A way I have finally determined.”

Todoroki took a dramatic pause, one that definitely worked given how hard Shota’s heart was drumming in his ears. 

“Are you or are you not the long lost brother of Inko Mido-” Shota stood up and cut the boy off with a loud clap of his hands, effectively grabbing the attention of all of his students. Midoriya included, not like he’d look in his general direction ever again, though. 

“Class dismissed. Grab your bags and get out,” 

His students did so without hesitation, even Todoroki. But the heterochromatic boy had the look on his face that just screamed self-satisfaction, most likely thinking Shota was doing this because he was denying the truth and wanted a distraction. Which is only half right.

 “You can worry and harass your parents over what you think I told them when you get home. And don’t forget to get your work-study offers in order, life  will  be harder if you miss the deadline for making a decision.”

Shota sat back down while the shuffling of his students' feet and backpacks filled the room, once again taking a deep breath so that he could organize his mental teaching plans. During parent-teacher conferences he was able to convince some of the parents who were in the same heroic line of work that they should encourage their child to take up or seek out an offer, Yaoyorozu with Fatgum and Shoji with Gang Orca, in particular. Besides the two of them, only a portion of the class is well off. 

Bakugo loudly announced he was off to work at Miruko’s when he got to homeroom at the end of the day, probably to brag to Midoriya. But as usual, all the green-haired child did was wish him a million congratulations that Bakugo pretended to hate. 

Kirishima’s sticking with Fatgum, Mina also managed to get an offer from Gang Orca that she’ll be taking up, and while Todoroki is a wild card he still hasn’t revealed who he’ll be going with or even who his offers were. From the way Enji was talking about his son one would assume the kid was choosing him, but for now, Shota is gonna hang on to the hope that he’s stalling. Just a little more time to change his mind.

Jirou’s with Amplifier, Tenya’s with Tensei, Uraraka and Tsuyu are with Ryukyu, and whoever the fuck is going with Endeavor. All highly impressive offers, of course, and he probably would have been happier about it had he not eavesdropped on them in the hallway. Every single one of those heroes had apparently offered Midoriya a spot, which he guess wasn’t too surprising since the kid has risen to a decent level of popularity in this industry already.

The boy who broke all his bones at the USJ, the boy who broke his bones at the sports festival, the boy who broke his bones at training camp, the boy who didn’t break his bones during the Overhaul mission, which was basically the only time breaking his bones would be a reasonable expectation, and the boy a majority of this school had at one point been lent a pen by and wasn’t even asked to return it. Like he said, popularity and the highest level of respect. 

It’s a good thing he has a lot of offers, that way he’ll always have a safety net, but for someone as paranoid and analytical as Midoriya it’s gonna be quite a stressful week full of t-charts and investigating to find the pros and cons of each option. Shota only hopes that whoever he ends up with doesn’t punch him in the face, kick him in the face, end up to be a shady criminal, or fucking die, as everyone else has.

God, the kid really is cursed, isn’t he?

The underground hero was just about to delve into his own conspiracy theories about how cursed the boy really is when suddenly the sounds of shuffling and scraping reached his ears. He straightened in his seat to find the source only to be met with the sight of the cursed kid in question, tangled between his desk, chair, and backpack and trying to pick up god knows what.

“Problem child,” He called out. The weird seizure movement ceased as Midoriya looked up at him like nothing was out of the ordinary. And, yeah, that’s fair, this is considered pretty normal in their class. “Why do you look like a flopping fish who’s just been caught in a fishing net?”

“I was trying to leave but then I accidentally dropped my backpack and everything inside of it! And so I went to pick it up- and I actually did for the majority of it!- but I ended up kicking some stuff under my desk that I had to duck under to get. And then five minutes later...” Midoriya jutted his head towards his mangled body, “...yeah. And I still don’t have the cards,”

Shota scrunched his face as the kid continued to detangle himself.

“Cards?”

“Y-yeah! The business cards that Jirou, Uraraka, Iida, and- BLOODY MURDER!” Midoriya screamed as he saw his backpack full of textbooks and other strange items tip off the desk he placed it on and aim straight for his head on the ground. Shota shot out his capture weapon to drag the kid free before he got another broken bone and ignored the ‘ooooh scarf’ the boy muttered. 

“Ah, that reminds me. Endeavor wanted to give you his business card to extend the offer for his agency,” He said, making no move whatsoever to hand him the card. What? He’s gonna delay having to do that for as long as he can.

“Oh, I know!” Eh? “He passed me in the hallway while I was running to sixth period and gave me it, something about Shochan working better when he’s with classmates and how he’s relieved Kaachan won’t be coming this time to cause a ruckus with his sidekicks?”

Huh. Enji gave Midoriya the card himself instead of trusting that Shota would pass it along. Interesting, but not surprising. 

“That’s all well and good but you can’t choose all of them. Who’re you going with?” The problem child pressed a hand to his chin as he bit his inner cheek, and Shota got in a more comfortable position in his chair to prepare for the string of analysis that was about to spring out. 

“Ingenium is great but it’s a speed-based agency. They have a brand I could fit into but I’m not looking for a brand, I’m trying to learn something, and after Gran Torino, I really don’t need help with speed. Ryukyu never had any particular specialty with her agency, but even then I wouldn't go. Uraraka is already doing great and doesn't need me there, she'd been talking about independence lately and I wouldn’t want to get in the way,”

Shota’s sure Uraraka didn’t mean to make Midoriya think he was getting in the way, so hopefully, she clears that up at some point, but it’s considerate of him to go along with it. It’s also a good thing that she’s making a name for herself without his help. 

“Amplifier's a good hero, too, but I don't need help with my flicking and air blasts either. Besides, I don't want to be known for that, I’m trying to leave that behind in the sports festival. And now that I think about it, all of those agencies are based on physical abilities alone, and I’m not so sure If I want that. I wanted more analysis these days, and Endeavor was the only one who gave me that.”

God fucking damnit. Shota should have remembered to make the vomiting sounds. 

“So that’s it, then? You’re gonna take up Endeavor’s offer?”

“Well, not quite. Endeavor was the only agency that actually listened to my analysis for once, but even then I only went there because Nighteye was gone and I needed help with black whip. I  still  need help with black whip, but I want to test its other capabilities. Like capturing and moving items, using it as a possible source of transportation, and maybe even as an actual whip. Endeavor’s agency was useful but he’ll only limit me by sticking to the spotlight where black whip has to stick to a single function. He may have listened to my analysis once again only when it came to physical capabilities. 

“And besides, he didn’t let us take a look around the agency and probably never will, so I’ll never get to know what the support and business people did there. He didn’t even let us stick around to clean up after a villain fight,”

Hmm, okay. If Shota understood everything he’s hearing correctly then it’s pretty simple what Midoriya wants in his work-study:

1. The ability to make developments in black whip and whatever other quirks may come along more creatively. 

2. More focus on his analysis abilities not just for himself but possibly villains and civilians too, or maybe even things that aren’t related to quirks at all, like criminal cases. Perhaps he’s shooting his shot at psychological profiling.

3. Connections with people outside of the hero department. Support workers, business workers, police officers, paramedics, all that jazz.

“It’s all reasonable to want,” Shota said contemplative, pressing two index fingers to the bridge of his nose. “but the real struggle is trying to find a place that could give a little of all three. It’d have to be an agency that constantly comes into contact with issues beyond just cliche villain fights, say drug busts, murder, or human trafficking. That way you’d be forced to think about the cases on a deeper level and work with the local police and forensics, which is inevitable depending on what kind of hero you want to be. 

“The only heroes that do that kind of stuff usually aren’t in the top ten official rankings, maybe not even top 20, so you wouldn’t get much publicity. But not having publicity is practically the goal, isn’t it? Crowds of people would prevent you from using the other functions of black whip, and like you said you aren’t looking to stick a brand on yourself yet. Japan’s a naturally busy place, though, the only time things quiet down and get more serious is at night. So away from too many people, areas where shit bad enough to be kept quiet happens, preferably at night, so basically just-” 

Shota cut himself off, eyes narrowing. When he stopped rambling- now that’s a first- and spewing the first thing to come to mind, it actually gave him the chance to look at the bigger picture. All of what he was listing sounded too familiar, too directly in his face what the answer should be. 

And as if on cue with the light bulb that exploded over his head, Midoriya finished his sentence with a feral grin. 

“Underground!”

“You’re a brat, you know that?” Midoriya nodded, grin still present and unphased.

“Yes, it keeps me awake at night,”

“Well I hate to inform you of this but I technically don’t have an agency, I’m an independent hero directly under the hero commission’s payroll,”

He’s also a terrible influence. For everything he said about murder and human trafficking, he doesn’t know how he feels about being the one to introduce those concepts to his students. He also doesn’t know how he feels about knowingly letting his student stay out past curfew fighting villains and jumping between buildings. 

And no, Todoroki, those aren’t his parental instincts. 

“Actually, the UA rulebook doesn’t say anything about being required to work for an official agency. It just says I need to work for a hero that has an established patrol route, source of income, and 5 or more government associates that you work with daily as a hero. And last time I checked your patrol route was pretty much just a seven-mile radius all around the local Musutafu police station, you just said the hero commission pays you, and you work closely with the police officers!”

Well, it’s a thought out plan to get him to take him on, he’ll give him that. Shota gave the kid a deadpan stare before sighing. 

“You have a good point,” Midoriya pumped his fist in the air, “But what’s with the sudden need to get close to the police? If you think they always have donuts around, that’s true, but I guarantee you’ll never get the chance to eat them before Tsukauchi steals them all and tries to  lie  about it before his own quirk gives him away. What, did you want access to their classified information on cases related to certain heroes so you could investigate and expose the secrets they’ve been trying to hide for years?”

“Yes?”

“Good, me too. Start looking into Endeavor, I’m willing to bet some online forums have footage of him saying some shady stuff that they managed to save even though it got taken down soon after it was released,” Shota said. 

“Oh, they do! I’m the one that saves it. Why do you think I got into hacking in the first place?” 

“To cancel sold out All Might merchandise orders online of other people so you could steal it for yourself, to delete troll accounts that slander All Might, to find a way to DM All Might’s social media platforms that weren’t even run by him, should I go on?”

“...That too,” As expected. 

Well, the kid’s already his secretary, there’s not much more Shota can do to be an even worse role model at this point, so he might as well go with the flow. God, if only Hizashi could hear his inner self now. But as he said earlier, he’s well aware of the downsides that come with his job. 

Less sleep, more work, newfound hatred for Tsukauchi, and loss of sanity. The loss of sanity is the result of witnessing countless sinister cases from kidnapping to homicide… Yeah, not the kind of thing you want to show a teenager. But Midoriya isn’t a regular teenager, he’s a hero student who is trying to prepare himself for the future, and like it or not this is a necessary step. He does not like it. 

Although, there may be a way to control what Midoriya does and doesn’t work on, a way to filter certain things out so long as he stays careful and strict in his schedule. He’ll keep the patrols, stay away from the morgue lab, show some drug trafficking and aggravated assault cases, hide the  other  cases, but ultimately show how to prevent any of them from happening in the future. It’s a flawless plan. Hopefully. 

Is this the kind of thing the majority of spotlight heroes, top ten excluded, would show their interns? Probably not. But hey, this is underground we’re talking about, it’s basically all the shit they can’t televise on T.V for little toddlers, but the stuff they save for documentaries that’ll be made in 12 years. Is this even allowed in Nezu’s UA rulebook? He doesn’t know. And you know what? Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t question it. Questions only waste time, that’s why.

Totally not because he knows if he asks questions he’s going to discover an answer that goes against what he was hoping for but will ultimately have to abide by. That’s what he did last Monday when Nezu first called him into his office, and that turned out okay, right? 

Shota ignored the loud ‘NO YOU FUCKING DUMBASS’ of his brain and zoned back into the conversation, only to see Midoriya holding his thumb out sideways, waiting to tilt up or down. Like he said this morning, nostalgic in the worst way possible. 

“Do I really have a choice?” 

Midoriya gave a feral grin again and Shota gave a thumbs up, giving a huff and an eye roll that they both knew wasn’t really annoyed. He made sure to keep any traces of a proud smile off his face until the kid had already sprinted away from the classroom, most likely racing to meet Shinsou outside so they could share war stories of making his life way more complicated but also way more entertaining than it needed to be.

Yeah, he knew he didn’t have a choice. But even if he did, he knew he wouldn’t say no. 

Chapter Text

What was the saying again? You’ll always find your way back home ?

Shota honestly didn’t know if it was a real saying or just the surprisingly meaningful title of a Hannah Montana song that Hizashi played too many times in the car- mostly because the guy conveniently forgets that both he and Nemuri suck at the English language and don’t watch century-old kid shows-, but either way it applies to this situation. Only in this case, the home is the den of traumatic memories that is Nezu’s office, and he’s not going because of a family crisis, he’s going because Hizashi had a random memory from 14 years ago and started having his own crisis. 

Said memory from 14 years ago was the day Hizashi got caught filming his ‘documentary of UA student life’ by a teacher during calculus and had his video camera confiscated. Shota doesn’t blame the teacher for taking it, though. After all, Hizashi was planning on interviewing Sensoji next and everyone knew that was gonna be a disaster. All that guy ever did was accuse people of copyrighting goggles and say weirdly deep statements at the most unnecessary times, and Shota knows the entire school would have rather ripped their eardrums out than listen to a thirty-minute cameo of that.

In any case, what he does blame him for, however, is tossing it in Nezu’s confiscation box and forgetting to give it back. And as everyone knows, whenever Nezu notices that one specific item has been left in the box too long, he assumes the use of it was so terrible that it immediately gets sent to an off-site location and never to be seen again. Which okay, yeah, was not that far off from the truth. But still.

Extreme, he knows. But when is Nezu not extreme?

And after a bit of panicked screaming in the hallway 30 minutes before lunch ended, Shota was finally sent to find out where the off-site location was, that way Hizashi could break into it and recover the stolen footage from the past. It’d almost be poetic if the underground hero didn’t hate the mission so much. And that’s what this was, a mission, because he knows for a fact there’s a 70% percent chance of him getting murdered if Nezu catches him. 

The murder part is actually the reason he suggested none of them should go, and just buy a new video camera instead of spending the rest of their lives in fear. And maybe his over-informed suggestion was the reason he got voted out by literally everyone else. It’s strange, but as time passes Shota is beginning to see how accurate Midoriya’s murdering game theory really is. 

And that’s what brings him to Nezu’s office, sitting in the desk chair with the computer cracked open and trying to decide which of the 300 files with no titles other than numbers is the file that carries the location. It was going okay for a little while, especially after he determined that Nezu probably hid it in a triple-digit file with only even numbers that way it was hard to find but not ‘this is the secret of the universe’ hard to find, until he once again was given a heart attack by Midoriya who decided that now was the perfect time to also break into Nezu’s office . 

He’s not gonna lie, it was definitely one of the more awkward situations he’d ever ended up in. With him once again being caught stealing items from one of the greatest security threats in Japan, and the problem child rambling excuses being caught holding a shady duffle bag and one of his notebooks, which never means anything good.

In fact, Shota can remember the exact conversation they had right after he got Midoriya to stop rambling:

“This office door actually looks very similar to the bathroom door in the teachers' lounge and I know you may be thinking ‘why were you in the teachers' lounge in the first place' and that can easily be explained if- Wait why are you on Principal Nezu’s computer?”

~

“Childhood pain and tears. What’s in the duffle bag that smells disgusting?”

“Fruits, veggies, chicken legs, assorted cheeses, candy, and a discount box of chocolates the deli cashier threw at my head and told me to buy! His daughter used to go on the same train as me every day before dorms opened up.”

“What kind of chocolates would be on discount in February?”

“Vanilla?”

“That’s why it’s disgusting.”

~

But after both of them came to a mental conclusion that technically neither of them could snitch without also facing repercussions and looking like a hypocrite- not that either of them were really snitches since one of them had a major guilt complex and the other just didn’t care enough about Nezu’s wellbeing- it was pretty much smooth sailing. Midoriya decided that it was better he worked quickly and efficiently on... whatever his project was that involved sticking random foods in pencil cups and under folders on the desk, while Shota shut the computer deciding that he could save the video camera matter for later.

The underground hero finally took a moment to see his surroundings from an outside perspective. He was once again slouching in Nezu’s chair and reaching for his coffee mug, the problem child was frantically reading off his notebook while conducting random experiments on the side, Nezu was nowhere to be found- it was just like last week. He didn’t know how it happened but both of them just naturally gravitated to familiar positions- or found their way back home , according to that Montana girl- and fell back into rhythm.

Which was... nice. It was nice, and he’d have to start saying that more if he didn’t want last week’s self-aware realizations to go to waste. He’d gotten too caught up in work studies and the mindfuck that was Endeavor yesterday that he forgot to follow the rule he made for himself. He wasn’t supposed to tackle the world in a day, he’s just supposed to be there and do his goddamn job.

“Problem child,” He said suddenly, causing Midoriya to pause in the action of sticking airheads in the tape dispenser and snap his head up, “Status report on whatever’s happened at this school since yesterday morning.”

“Right!” The boy flipped ten pages back, “Mic-sensei has been circling the hallways for the last fifteen minutes muttering ‘location location location’ and holding two black coffees,” What is it with him and black coffee? He doesn’t even like the taste. “He passed by Toshi at one point but when he tried to say hello he was already crawling away through the vents, and I know this because the vent seal almost hit my head. I tried making a Carrie reference but Kaachan picked up the seal to actually hit me in the head before I could finish it. Recovery girl wouldn’t give him butterscotch candy after that.”

Butterscotch candy- what is she? UA’s grandma?

“Your pop-culture references will kill you before One for All does,” Midoriya looked like he wanted to deny it before reluctantly nodding his head in agreement, and Shota doesn’t know how he’s supposed to respond to that. 

“And speaking of Kaachan, he accidentally called Sero by his actual name during class yesterday, and now the rest of the class is trying to get him to do the same to someone else. They’re really pushing on it being Ashido but I bet Sato five hundred yen and two brownies that it would be Mei,” There’s already a betting pool? Who should Shota tell to place his money on Yaoyorozu? “Kirishima and Tetsutetsu were seen holding three trashbags yesterday and talking about ‘taking them down cowboy style’, but so far I’ve yet to see any hardcore evidence that they committed manslaughter.”

“Are you actively searching for evidence that your peers committed a felony?” Shota asked.

The kid whispered ‘ whatt? Nooo’ as he sank deeper into his chair and pressed his notebook closer to his face. Yeah, now Shota really doesn’t know how to respond to that. 

Especially since this seemed familiar to him for god knows what reason.

“Todoroki listened to Hound Dog’s advice and started gathering evidence on theories he already had instead of making new ones. The bad news is that he still thinks Toga and Kaachan are connected somehow, but the good news is that he’s investigating privately instead of blatantly interrogating!” Both are bad, honestly, but at least Todoroki won’t get blown up. For now, at least. “And Hyun Gong from the business department has recently been showing signs of stress due to her work this past week.” Huh?

Hyun Gong, the woman nicknamed the dragon of the business department due to her wisdom and unbreakable perseverance- cheesy, he knows-, was showing signs of stress? And overwork ? It’s not that Shota thought she wasn’t allowed to feel overwhelmed at times, but for someone like Hyun Gong, even getting the tiniest bit agitated still required incredibly high standards.

“What’s going on in her work life for her to act like that?” He asked. Midoriya flipped the page.

“As you know, Hyun Gong works in the business department but she also studied economics, finance, and accounting in university.” Who the hell has time for all of that? “Which makes her qualified to handle UA’s finances when needed, and I guess right now she’s needed. 

“According to her, budget applications from outside have been coming in faster than usual lately, so it’s harder to navigate exactly how much money should go where and to who. And off the records, it’s like more money is going missing than what was documented? Because of this, the finance department’s employees were forced to call in someone who could help out and lighten the load, but I guess it’s worse than I thought based on how Ms. Gong is acting,” Midoriya finished.

Ah yes, budget applications.

UA is more than just a regular hero school, it’s one of the pillars in Japan’s hero society as a whole after it produced most of the top heroes in history, and because of this, it’s favored by almost everyone in the country, including the Hero Commission. This led to people besides just regular alumni and parents donating their money to the school- such as the Hero Commission themselves, minor and major heroes alike, and even random rich conglomerates- to help out.

(Actually, Shota’s positive that it’s not so much about helping out the kids but more about helping out themselves. Rich people like heroes within the top 50 and CEOs of establishments are usually expected to donate a portion of their money to a good cause to seem like less of a jerk by the public’s, Dolly Parton’s, and Andrew Carnegie’s standards. You know, the whole “The man who dies rich dies disgraced” thing? And most of them see UA as an easy way out since they think they can gain some connections to pro and future pro heroes by doing this, maybe convince a few to be in a commercial for whatever product they’re selling. Pretty trashy of them if he’s being honest, but that’s beside the point.)

The point is, the money the Hero Commission gives them is less of a donation and more of an investment. They’ll cover the expenses for this school’s wildest dreams and in return, UA is expected to help out the top heroes and agencies whenever the HC tells them to. And if they don’t, it’s an unspoken expectation that HC will pull out a chunk of their funding and leave them stranded, and no one wants that to happen, so they keep their heads down and their mouths shut. 

The help the top heroes need comes in different shapes and forms. Everything from support item upgrades to property damage relief to backing them up with a lawyer when they make a stupid mistake is a request sent to them in the form of a budget application. Of course, there are limits to this- there can’t just be reckless spending, after all- but usually, the people sending these applications know their place.

“But it shouldn’t be that difficult to figure out, right?” Shota asked, eyebrows pushing down, “At most, the increase in applications should either be time-consuming or a matter of disorganization, and that would only take them two days to sort out, but they’ve needed Gong’s help for a week now. For them to not even know how much money and even where the money they’re sending is going, that would mean the problem isn’t with them but with the applications themselves.”

“All information about the check amounts and the recipients should be included in the form, as well as a detailed report of how the money is going to be used. If there’s any problem at all, it’s gonna be in there.” Midoriya said, waiting for whatever his gruff teacher’s response would be.

“Ms. Gong wouldn’t mind a couple visitors, would she?” And with that, Midoriya grinned and pumped a small fist in the air, whispering ‘ Yeahhh! Action time!’ as Shota huffed in amusement at the kid’s antics. 

There was something off about all this, and they were gonna do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of it, regardless of how man Hizashi gets at him for putting off the video camera matter again. And if he knows Hyun Gong, it means there’s more to it than whatever she told Midoriya, someone like her knows what secrets to keep and when. But before all that, how exactly did Midoriya find out about the finance department’s struggles? Isn’t that supposed to be kept under a tight lid with the staff? So that’s exactly what Shota asked him. 

“I don’t know, people like to tell me things,” The green-haired boy said, shrugging his shoulders, “The bigger a person’s eyes are the more trustworthy they look,”

“Ah, oka- Wait, you knew?” The underground hero asked, his posture going ramrod straight in alarm when he faced the boy. 

“Yeah! My mom told me that when I was 5. She also said that I must have gotten it from her since my dad wasn’t trustworthy at all. Then she would look off into the distance and curse him out.” Marital bliss at its finest. “When I was in middle school it was my greatest asset, sometimes even Kaachan couldn’t bother me when I stared him down.” Shota’s really gonna have to take care of this Aldera matter soon. 

“You know nothing good ever comes after ‘when I was in middle school’, right?”

“Yep!”

“Just checking.”

As expected, Ms. Gong didn’t mind that much that he and Aizawa-sensei had poked their heads into her office while she was scribbling wildly in her record-keeping notebook. In fact, she actually looked pretty enthusiastic about it. A relieved smile and crazed eyes settling on her face when Izuku’s teacher had asked if they could see some of the budget applications that had been coming in, gladly shoving stacks of the forms in their hands, no questions asked.

Well, one question asked, but it was just about why he smelled like Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory. 

Izuku’s fingers ran through the sides of the stacks of paper forms that were sent over two months ago, eyes scanning over the names of the heroes who sent them. On the way to Ms. Gong’s office, Aizawa-sensei had already explained to him the whole concept of UA’s budget applications, but it still came as a shock to see some of the top heroes on here. Hawks, Mirko, Kamui Woods- Izuku mentally gagged-, and way more. Name any hero in the top 20 and they were probably somewhere in here. 

He especially didn’t expect to see them requesting money for such… how does he say this? Gratuitous things? Hawks wanted a shirt that had the exact same design as his original one, except the diamond would be white instead of yellow; Mirko wanted money for her premium subscription to organic carrots shipped straight from China; Kamui wanted… Fertilizer?

Maybe he sounds like a hypocrite for saying this, especially since the stacks of All Might merchandise back home shows how he also spends outrageous amounts of money on what other people (Yes, other people, not him) consider unnecessary, but he can’t help but feel disappointed in them. 

Not that all of it was completely useless, though. There were a lot of budget applications that he honestly wouldn’t mind giving even more money to if he was in charge. Prosthetic limb upgrades when theirs broke in the middle of a fight, a hotel to stay in for the night after they had been forced to commute to an unfamiliar city for a criminal case and were too exhausted to travel back, hospital bills , and more. And while Izuku guesses he’s happy that most heroes are using this privilege of theirs for the right things, it also brings up an even bigger concern. 

Why did they have to go so far as to ask a hero school for permission to use this money? It was for their health, and the only reason they even needed it was because their jobs forced them to. Shouldn’t all of this be expected to be covered by the hero commission in the first place? And if not, were the heroes really not getting paid enough to be able to take care of it themselves?

Just who exactly is responsible for this kind of injustice?

Every once in a while, after seeing a particularly wild product someone requested money for, Izuku will turn to his gruff teacher as if to say “You seeing this?” And every time, Aizawa-sensei will always nod his head with pained eyes that say “Yes. I am seeing this. Now kindly gouge my eyes out and put me out of my misery so I don’t have to see it.” Age-appropriate as always. But they hadn’t found anything illegal yet.

There were some notable features, however. Like how Hawks must have made the most requests out of all of them, even for things as basic as rent and food. It’s as if his entire livelihood depended on the money UA is forced to provide him with, so now Midoriya has at least a little more evidence backing up his theory that the Hero Commission heavily supports him. And how Endeavor, despite being the new number one, hadn’t made a single one. But that wasn’t as strange.

Izuku remembers work studies last year, and he especially remembers the comments the new number 1 hero would make on fellow heroes inside and outside of his own agency. 

‘ Their costume is too flashy and inconvenient for battle. Don’t be like them’.

‘They invest too much money in makeup and rely on their physical appearance and show personalities to rise in the ranks. A real hero should work hard to rise in the ranks using their strength and brains. Don’t be like them’.

‘A hero is supposed to ensure that their civilian appearance vastly differs from their hero appearance, especially if their government name is already revealed to the public. Heroes that wear things and behave in ways that highlight their trademark hero features are idiotic and put themselves and civilians at risk. Don’t be like them.’

Sure, every time Endeavor opened his mouth Kaachan would fake(?) gagging noises and Todoroki would glare, but he did have a point. And that kind of guy would never request money for material goods from a school. Besides, he was stinking rich. 

Izuku saw the dark figure of his teacher shift in his peripheral vision and turned to him in advance, tilting his head when the man held up four fanned out slips of paper in his face. 

“These are from about a month ago,” Aizawa-sensei starts, brows creased in thought, “Around this time a few other heroes outside of the top thirty started to come in. You recognize them?” He did. 

“Air Jet rank no. 223, Backdraft rank no. 131, Professor Fist rank no. 337, and Lady Claw rank no. 120. I had her in another form.” The green-eyed boy recited from memory.

All of them are so obscure and minor that the best comparison to them based on social relevance would be an underground hero with a very dedicated fan club. They definitely didn’t seem like the type that would get special permission from the Hero Commission to use UA’s money however they pleased. And that’s not where it ended. Aizawa clicked his tongue, drawing the boy’s attention back to him. 

“As I thought. They’re low enough on the ranks to make them practically unknown, but quite a few of them were seen having some scandals in the past, so they’d pop up in an easy google search. Professor Fist cheated on his wife with his sidekick,” Isn’t his wife- or, the ex-wife he guesses, the pro hero Green Phantom? How is he even alive?! “I feel like Native’s chosen hero name speaks for itself, Lord Feline once tried to eat a mutant fish hero when he was drunk- stuff like that. The fact that articles on these scandals are still easily accessible says a lot. If they really had the support of the Hero Commission every trace of it would have been erased,”

Izuku didn’t know what he meant by that, but the irritated look Aizawa-sensei had in his eye told him it wasn’t anything good.

He’d never heard of anything like that before. The Hero Commission covering up scandals, that is. He’d always assumed that the heroes would handle and take responsibility for it themselves- if there even was a scandal in the first place- not that they would seek help from the untouchable higher-ups. And judging by the way Aizawa-sensei phrased it, was he implying that more well-known heroes did have the support of the Hero Commission.

The only theory Izuku had about that was Hawks, and that was just because he was the highest-rising hero in history, which was especially surprising given his young age. It was as if his work ethic, fighting style, and personality were perfectly crafted to fit the tastes of the media and public. Not a single red mark on his track record. There’s no way he didn’t receive help from the captains of the hero industry to achieve that. But for others to possibly be in the same boat as him...

Sensing the confusion in his student’s eyes, the underground hero elaborated. 

“The Hero Commission isn’t filled with complete idiots, despite popular belief.”

“Who thinks they’re all idiots?”

“Me. They gave us a specific list of heroes who can take advantage of the money we have here, all of them residing within the top thirty in the ranks and all of them clearly having the Hero Commission’s support given that their name was on the list in the first place. So it’s safe to say that these minor heroes just weaseled their way in here in hopes of trying their luck to get some free money. Moral of the story, trust no one.”

The green-haired boy was about to go back to searching when he faltered, staring a little closer at the product Lady Claw had requested money for. It was the latest model of the Spartan Combat Knife, costing about 24,000 yen. It wasn’t expensive compared to most support items, and it was of excellent quality, too. Nothing would be out of the ordinary if it wasn’t for the fact that the same hero had applied for the same product just with a different price written down. 

Izuku frantically searched through his own pile, ignoring the strange looks he got from Aizawa-sensei in favor of digging out the slip of paper he was looking for and holding it up high for his teacher to take and get a closer look at. 

Hero Name and ID Number: Lady Claw #287529

Hero Agency: G.O, 279-1025

Product: Spartan Combat Knife

Manufacturing Company: Hercules Support Inc.

Estimated Cost - Yen: 24,000

Hero Name and ID Number: Lady Claw #287529

Hero Agency: G.O, 279-1025

Product: Spartan Combat Knife

Manufacturing Company: Hercules Support Inc.

Estimated Cost - Yen: 34,000

“A 10,000 yen increase…” Aizawa-sensei muttered, “What a load of crap.”

“A-and there’s more just like that!” Izuku said in shock as he pulled out form after form. “Atomic Storm was the exact same case as Lady Claw with the price change, except he also sent in both forms within two weeks of each other when the purpose this money is being used for only requires a quarter yearly payment. It’s under 55k yen, but still.” 

“O-one might have assumed that it was sent in twice by some technical error, since the forms were filled out online, and they would have passed off the price change as a typo or something but that’s clearly not the case!” Izuku rambled, “The descriptions- the very, very vague descriptions- on the forms both use different synonyms for the words, this was on purpose.” He paused to look back up at his teacher, “But why would a hero want to trick us?”

Aizawa-sensei responded with nothing but a sad look in his eyes, confusing Izuku even more. The gruff teacher picked up a couple more forms and began reading them out. 

“Death Arms requested money for 15 boxes of pizza for his agency.” The man said.

“Maybe they had just solved a really hard case!” Izuku chimed in, an optimistic smile plastered on his face. 

“Fourth Kind got his sidekicks premium gym memberships at a VIP club.”

“He must care a lot about giving them the best health opportunities possible!” Izuku’s smile wobbled.

“Midnight bought the Midnight Boys matching leather jackets that said ‘MILF’ standing for ‘Midnight I’d like to f’- Oh. Ew. It was rejected since the description clearly said it was a joke but jeez. Uwabami bought herself three pairs of shoes.”

“Maybe-!” 

“Non-combative, high heel, brand name shoes.” His smile sunk into a frown faster than a dead body in the ocean with two cinder blocks chained to its legs, and his gruff teacher couldn’t help but spare a rare pitying look at him. “As well as other useless things, etcetera, etcetera.”

“How were they able to easily slip by like this?” Midoriya asked, still staring with sad eyes at Uwabami’s form.

“Well part of it must be due to the overwhelming amount of forms that may have caused the budgetary department to lose some focus, but that seems a little oversimplified and risky. I don’t doubt that there was another factor in these peoples’ plans. And it gets worse,” Aizawa-sensei held up another form and pointed at the second line. “Do you recognize this agency?”

G.O, 406-1033

The green-haired boy nodded. It was Best Jeanist’s agency, Genius Office. Izuku had already been incredibly interested in the hero from the beginning, and Kaachan having his internship there only made him want to know more about everything about it. There’s no way he couldn’t recognize it. Aizawa-sensei moved his finger up slightly to point at the first line. 

“What about this?”

The boy had to spend a little longer at that one. The hero name, Miss Fang, definitely sounded like it could be legitimate, what with all the unreasonably long and strange names these days (Yes, he knows he’s not excluded from this. Be nice to him.). But much to Izuku’s shock, no matter how much he racked his brain, he couldn’t remember the name. 

“S..sorry, I don’t.” The freckled boy muttered quietly, ashamed that the one time his hero knowledge would be important, he didn’t have it. Izuku’s eyes watched the way Aizawa-sensei’s fingers tightened their grip around the top of the paper, awaiting his response. But what he got instead was arguably worse than any disappointed remark he could have received.

“...That’s because they don’t exist.”

The dark-haired man grabbed more and more forms, showing the names written down on each one to the wide-eyed Izuku. And every time, the hero student couldn’t recall any of the ‘heroes’. By the time his teacher was done, he must have showcased about thirty forms. Finally, Aizawa-sensei straightened out of his slouch and stared down the stacks of paper, crimson sparks dancing in the hue of his inky-eyes, a tell-tale sign that his quirk could accidentally be activated should he lose control of his temper.

As if that would happen. Aizawa-sensei always kept his emotions under a tight lid, only showing what he felt needed to be shown. Usually, those emotions were annoyance, seriousness, anger, ‘All Might did what?’, ‘I’m gonna ruin your day with a logical ruse’, and occasionally happiness and humor. But those last two would only make an appearance if a cat was around, if Mic-sensei had done something, or if Vlad-sensei tripped and dropped his coffee. 

It’s as if the man trained himself for this or something. 

But in the hypothetical case that Aizawa-sensei really did go on a hulking rampage and let his quirk run loose, Izuku didn’t think he would have any complaints. He’d been looking for another excuse to analyze erasure and the possibility of the secondary minor telekinesis quirk lately. He even called his mother a few times to ask her about what her attraction quirk felt like so he could cross-reference it to whatever Aizawa-sensei’s answers would be in his upcoming interview part 2. And this would actually be the perfect opportunity to do so. 

But he guesses it’s a little weird to hope for something like that to happen. Power Loader-sensei already has enough property damage to deal with after Hatsume, it’d be insensitive to shove any more on him. Speaking of Hatsume, they really had to plan out their sleepover soon. He has tons of prototype ideas that need to come to life. 

“Problem Child.” Aizawa-sensei started, and Izuku snapped his head up to give him his full attention. “Weed out everything you find even remotely suspicious.”

“What counts as suspicious?”

“Yes.” Izuku nodded.

Twenty minutes later, the vice principal and secretary of UA stood before five organized piles of budget applications. It contained forms from all the heroes Izuku’s never heard of (which according to Aizawa-sensei means they don’t exist), forms that have been sent twice with different vague descriptions, forms where the prices don’t match up, forms that shouldn’t be sent so soon after one another, forms with minor heroes that there’s no way the Hero Commission supports, and more. All of which Aizawa-sensei had immediately snapped a photo of while he scribbled down basic information.

Luckily- compared to everything else, that is- there weren’t that many fake and minor heroes in total. Thirty fake heroes and twenty minor heroes altogether who just sent in about four forms each, which is a lot but way below the hundreds that it felt like. 

Of course, there were actual heroes within the top thirty who spent their money on useless items, but it was sort of an unspoken agreement between Izuku and his teacher that they wouldn’t do much about them besides just offhandedly making a comment in Nezu’s hearing range since what they were doing was in sort of a legal grey area that a hero student and an underground hero didn’t have the authority to handle.

A scribbling sound snapped the green-eyed boy out of his thoughts as he turned to the source of the noise, seeing his teacher tear off a post-it note after writing a few words down and shove it in his pocket.

“It’d be a waste of time to try and track down all the heroes outside of the top thirty on these forms today since I could just take care of all of them with a single email tonight- they did leave all their information, after all. As for the fake heroes, they only left the hero office name, so it’d be more efficient to target the agencies that popped up most often. But even then there might be-” Aizawa-sensei rolled his eyes and did quotation marks with his fingers, “- agencies , so, yeah.”

“Which are the most well-known ones?” Izuku asked.

“Aquatic Agency, Endeavor agency,” Endeavor’s agency but not the fire hero himself? Whoever had the nerve to commit fraud in his office must have guts. “Shishido Hero Office, Fat Gum Agency, Death Arms Hero Office, ” Ugh - er, he means, damn… “and Uwabami hero office.” The underground hero finished speaking and Izuku furrowed his eyebrows.

“The only reason we found Hyun Gong’s predicament suspicious in the first place was because the forms started coming faster than usual, too fast for most of the finance department to keep up with. And judging by those forms, the minor and fake heroes started coming in about a month ago, but two weeks ago there were suddenly a lot more rushing in. This wasn’t multiple people having the same idea, this was an organized effort.” As much as he hates to admit it. 

“They knew it would overwhelm the employees, and it would probably lead to them not having the time to cross-reference the list of heroes you said the Hero Commission gave UA that have the permission to send budget applications. Everything was calculated. Of course, as you said, that’s oversimplified and risky so there has to be another missing piece of their plan, but that’s the main path they took.”

Too caught up in his own thoughts, Izuku wasn’t able to witness the way the corner of his teacher’s mouth quirked up at the rambling of analysis.

“And speaking of the list, is it safe to assume that only select UA teachers, Nezu, the finance department, the heroes on the list themselves, the Hero Commission, and I guess me now, are aware of budget applications existing in the first place?” The green-haired boy spared a millisecond long glance at Aizawa-sensei, who nodded, before returning to his thought process. “Nezu hired everyone here, so I doubt the staff or anyone in the finance department is corrupt or careless enough to let this information slip. It’s most likely that the people behind the fake hero personas have a leader who knows of one of the heroes on the list filling out a budget application, and spread the info to them so they could pull all this off. 

“I know you said not to go after the minor heroes since you could just handle them in an email, but it’s not like the fake heroes will give out their identity when asked, and it’s most likely that a real hero started this whole thing anyway. The top heroes usually are only friends with other top heroes or minor heroes, so the leader is probably someone who’s incredibly social and has a lot of connections. The leader is also bold enough to ask others to commit fraud with them and trust that they’ll say yes without snitching. And, educated guess, they probably own their own agency if they’re able to manage everyone else involved. So that narrows it down to…”

A few beats of silence and then:

“Uwabami!” “ Uwabami .” The hero student and his teacher said at the same time. With Izuku saying it as more of a factual conclusion and Aizawa-sensei saying it as though Uwabami had murdered his entire family and he vows for revenge on top of a burning battlefield. Momo’s farce of an internship last year must still be a sore spot. 

Now that Izuku thinks about it, Aizawa-sensei starts disliking someone over a single action, and then it just snowballs from there until eventually it’s revealed that the person really did suck all along. That was his explanation for Vlad, wasn’t it? It started with a difference in pet preference, but then Vlad turned out to be a quirk prejudiced jerk. In this case, it was annoyance over how Uwabami handles internships, all the way to trying to expose her for fraud. It can’t even be considered petty if he’s right .

Maybe Izuku should have done that in the past, he had more than enough material to, after all. His classmate Takashi? He poured milk on his backpack during the second week of seventh grade, and then he ended up getting expelled for having cocaine in his locker. His teacher Megumi? She made him do five times the required word count for his essay on Japan’s actions in World War II (he did and got an A-minus, the minus just being her pettiness, so fuck her), and then she got arrested for buying cocaine from an undercover cop. Turns out she was Takashi’s old number 1 customer that got desperate.

Butterfly effects truly are amazing.

But what good would having grudges do for him? It would just make the day even more unbearable, and his having a bad attitude towards others would make them hate him even more. At least with never-ending kindness after punches, insults, and explosions, he could at least garner some pity from others and make the people who wronged him feel guilty.

Suppressing the slightest possibility of negative emotion was for physical protection, and maybe even some mental protection, too. Because if he allowed those feelings to take over, even if just for a second, he wouldn’t have been able to make them stop. And if he was just a body filled with anger and sadness with nothing but hate for this world and everyone in it, then what was going to stop him from hopelessly hating his own life?

And we all know what happens to quirkless kids who hate their own life. 

Things are better now. Slightly. Even if he only knows that because he legitimately broke down sobbing last week (That embarrassing moment is going to haunt him for the rest of his life). So who knows? Maybe one of these days he’ll even break down with anger and form a grudge like Aizawa-sensei.

His teacher’s voice cut in through the cracks of his mind. 

“We’ll start with her. In the case that she’s responsible for all this, we’ll get the identities of the fake heroes out of her as well as any other minor heroes she took on as her business partner and take it from there. But like you said, fake and minor heroes originally came in a month ago while clear evidence of an organized effort happened two weeks ago. Uwabami couldn’t have been in charge of last month’s imposters, so someone else must have found out about budget applications before her and spread it to a few trusted colleagues.” Aizawa-sensei sighed out, already exhausted by all of this. 

“You said the Endeavor Agency was one of the hero offices included in the forms, right? How many heroes were from there?”

“Just the one.” Aizawa-sensei said, picking up the forms in question, “Someone by the hero name of ‘Mister Blast’. Identification number 099642. Endeavor Agency. He was actually the first one outside of the top thirty to send in a form.”

“What’d he request money for?” Izuku asked and his teacher scanned the papers.

“He- oh. Wow. He spent 54,000 yen- twice- on Knife Master 2100. God, no wonder he didn’t get caught.” Izuku shot him a look of confusion and he explained, “Anyone would assume Knife Master 2100 was a support item but it’s actually a- well, it’s an alt-rock band with expensive tickets.”

“A rock band ?”

“Yep.”

“How did you-”

“Jirou.” That surprisingly explains everything. “This Blast guy knew exactly what he was doing, even the description was vague enough to play into that misunderstanding: ‘ Good quality. Consistently gets high ratings’ stuff like that. He probably did this as a failsafe. You know. Because of Hyun Gong. ”

That name alone was enough to strike fear into any hero worth his two cents. She is the dragon of the business department, after all. And no, Izuku doesn’t care what anyone else says, that nickname is not cheesy.

“Well, if he went through the effort of doing all that he’s certainly smart. And doing it in Endeavor’s Agency of all places speaks for itself about how bold he is. And boldness for a fraud goes hand in hand with a giant ego, so it’s safe to assume he’s a social butterfly, even if only a few people can tolerate him. And it’s probably the people who tolerate him who became his partners in, uh, crime.” Izuku’s voice subconsciously lowered to mutter at that last word.

He’s been disappointed by heroes multiple times in his life, as much as he hates to admit it. Having been quirkless for 14 years of his life and both hearing and experiencing the tragic stories of strangers who lost everything in the shadows, he’s well aware that this world isn’t all black and white. And yet every single time, the shock of it all never seemed to subside. The concept of a hero committing a crime was still unfamiliar to him, and if he’s being honest he really just wants all this to be some kind of big misunderstanding, no matter how naive that is. 

“You think he could be the leader of the first bunch?” The inky-eyed man asked. 

Izuku, while still a little caught up in his thoughts, nodded with certainty. Pipe dreams aside, Aizawa-sensei and principal Nezu entrusted this secretary position to him, and he’s not going to purposely mess it up just because he got his feelings hurt. His teacher watched his behavior for a few seconds before becoming satisfied with his answer. 

“Well, pack your notebooks,” Aizawa-sensei said with a sigh, already maneuvering past the stacks of budget application forms to head towards the door, “we’re going on another field trip. Interacting with Uwabami is unfortunately inevitable but hopefully, we’ll never have to make contact with Endeavor.” 

Actually, since when did Aizawa-sensei start disliking Endeavor? Not that Izuku disagrees or anything, but he knows for a fact Todoroki didn’t share his backstory with anyone else, and it’s unlikely that the fire hero would actually share that information himself. So did he do anything else to get on the underground hero’s bad side? Maybe during parent-teacher conferences yesterday? And if so…

Good. The more people who are suspicious of that man the better.

“Don’t you have to wear a suit and tie like last time?” The freckled boy asked, also maneuvering around the stacks of paper but awkwardly tripping every few seconds and being forced to flail around to balance himself. 

“Every time I wear a tie something terrible happens,” Izuku tried to give a positive counterargument but he really couldn’t. The Kamino press conference, the horrors Aizawa-sensei probably had to face when meeting the parents for dorm room permission slips, the disaster that was the hospital interviews last week- he thought it was fun!-, and now literal fraud . The man’s simply cursed. “Besides, I’m not trying to be professional today.”

Before Izuku had time to evaluate those last few cryptic words, his teacher was already speed walking out the door like Iida on steroids, leaving him with no choice but to grab his yellow backpack of notebooks, mechanical pencils, and a limited edition All Might keychain and run after him. 

And if Izuku noticed his teacher hear but pretend to be deaf to Mic-sensei yelling ‘SHOCHAN! WHAT ABOUT THE LOST FOOTAGE OF THE DOCUMENTARY OF UA LIFE?!’ out the second-floor window while they were already halfway off school property, well… then nobody had to know. 

Shota found, after visiting quite a few hero agencies himself, that the office often reflected the main hero themselves. 

Hizashi’s agency always had band posters with popping colors on the walls, pictures of the other heroes’ families and friends on their respective desks, mini instruments scattered around the room that one could fiddle with while their friend spoke into the mic for their radio show. It was happy, bright, and musical, just like the Present Mic persona and Hizashi himself.

Hero agencies had a purpose of representing everything the main hero stood for, and Uwabami was no different. 

Leaning against the reception desk- the marble reception desk, and the receptionist who has been sending doubtful looks towards his hero license ever since he whipped it out, might he add - Shota scanned the lobby of the Uwabami Hero Office. At the far right of the room, there were fancy chairs with rich colors and intricate designs were placed. You know, the kind that you’d look at and say ‘My grandmother would enjoy that’ before plopping down and having to hold back tears after almost breaking your tailbone from how hard and uncomfortable it was? Shota never actually experienced that but he saw it happen to Ectoplasm once and he had nothing but pity and a human walking stick service to give him. 

None of them appreciated Nemuri’s ‘You’re gonna have trouble walking tomorrow’ one-liner. 

On the left, there was an open Starbucks bar and organized seating tables and chairs. Shota could smell the faint aroma of matcha and brown sugar coming off of the cafe in waves, and even if he wasn’t one to regularly indulge in fancy drinks like those, he didn’t think it’d taste half bad. He has become a little more tolerable towards sugar these past couple of weeks, after all.

Overall, if he had to characterize the place, he’d say it was flashy and elegant in all the right ways, strangely but innately mesmerizing. He’s said this before but even though he wasn’t the most welcoming toward heroes who like to display their wealth and status in materialistic ways, he’ll keep his nose out of it so long as they can efficiently do their job. After all, who was he to judge other people’s lifestyles?

But this was different. Uwabami couldn’t do her job efficiently. No matter how good her quirk might be for battle, she prioritizes her modeling and fanbase over her hero work. And apparently, her modeling gig is the only reason she hired Yaoyorozu and Kendo in the first place, only bothering to take them on patrol after she forced them to film a commercial with her. And for that, he’ll always have a grudge against her.

But even if she was more professional, she was displaying wealth and status that didn’t rightfully belong to her, it belonged to UA, the establishment she stole from. And carrying that knowledge made the previously mesmerizing lobby look sickening. 

Uwabami may have a decently sized fanbase and a side job in modeling, but even that combined with the position of the 68th ranked hero wasn’t enough to afford five floors of decor just like this lobby, the expensive condo she often showed pictures of at formal events, hospital bills, and basic living expenses. Few people could live that life, and she was not one of them.

It made Shota wonder how much of her belongings were bought with her own hard-earned money and how much came from the forged budget application forms she tried to trick them with. 

And clearly, judging by the way Midoriya’s mouth frowned while staring down the gold that lined the sliding glass doors, the windows, the plant pots, and every mechanical pencil in the receptionist’s pencil cup, he thought the same thing. 

“If the design of the other four floors is anything like this one, I think it’s safe to say she fits the description,” Midoriya observed out loud, and Shota nodded in agreement. “But if Uwabami was really trying to be stealthy and inconspicuous about this, I don’t understand why she would make the presence of excessive wealth this obvious.”

“Well, showing off is human nature, isn’t it? Consciously or unconsciously, people are always gonna try to show that they’re the ones with all the power in the situation, even if they know they aren’t. Uwabami has always been pretty flashy, so maybe it was like this all along and now she’s just keeping up her act so no one suspects anything, but maybe she’s showing all her co-conspirators that she’s the one in charge of the operation. A way to tell them not to get too ahead of themselves in whatever share of money was agreed on, or try to snitch on her.” Shota replied. Midoriya lit up like a lightbulb and turned away from the fancy potted plant to look up at him.

“So it’s like she’s marking her territory? Establishing dominance?” That’s a funny way of saying it. 

“Well, yes, but I wouldn't put it exactly like that. It's not like we live in some weird dog-human hybrid universe where we pee on places to mark our territory.” Or at least he doesn’t. He’s met some weird people as an underground hero, and he can confirm that a lot of them do, in fact, pee on places to mark their territory. Intoxicated or not he’s still immeasurably disappointed. 

Midoriya tilted his head with an expression on his face that tiptoed the line between ‘You’re right, but- ’ and ‘I’m about to ruin your day in the most respectful way possible, sir’.

“Well, we don’t,” What was that emphasis on the ‘we’? “But the same can’t be said for everyone else, right?”

“Explain.” Forest green eyes momentarily widened before continuing. 

“A few years ago I found the online results of a study that sociologists and ethologists combined forces on. Its primary goal was to find out how people with mutant-type quirks, specifically those who had the physical attributes of an animal, had their behavior and mindsets impacted? Because it’s already common knowledge that it gives them some biological animalistic traits, like how Ojiro has a tail, Tsu can’t handle cold temperatures, and Nezu is- well.”

Midoriya paused to slightly wobble his head from side to side in the universally acknowledged gesture of ‘you know’. And Shota nodded because he did know, and what he knew was that nobody on this planet knew what Nezu was, not even the creature himself. Mouse, rat, bear, chimera, who's to say? Certainly not any of them. 

This mystery is so well known among the UA staff that it’s sort of becoming a running joke. ‘Ugh! This student’s handwriting is so confusing!’ ‘ What, did it turn into Nezu?’. ‘There’s this weird ingredient that Lunch Rush put into the food today but the flavor is all over the place so I can’t lock down whatever it might be.’ ‘Have you considered that it’s Nezu?’. Stuff like that. Shota won’t act like he’s not guilty of this, Fukukado be damned. 

But it’s not like they’d ever say it any louder than a whisper and within a hundred feet of school property, though. They didn’t have a death wish. 

“Yeah. But beyond that,” The green-eyed boy continued. “They also gained some other kinds of habits. Like, if you study all the video records available online where Hawks is fighting a particularly difficult villain,” Shota is proud to say that he’s not surprised in the least anymore about how the kid spends his free time. “You’ll notice that he briefly ruffles his feathers for 3-4 seconds before increasing his speed, hits, and overall intensity. Ruffling feathers is a common habit that a lot of birds share to look bigger and more intimidating to their enemies.”

“Huh. Is that why Tokoyami did the same thing when Ashido started comparing music tastes?” Midoriya nodded.

“And there’s a lot of other examples to choose from but the subject who had the most important results was Takeda Yuu, who had dog paws and instead of hands and his face looked like that one dog Snapchat filter.” The sudden mention of dogs reminded the underground hero of what brought about this subject in the first place, and he couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about what the kid was leading up to.

“...What did he do?” 

“Five seconds after entering the testing facility he marked his territory. Wanna know how?”

“Oh my god. No.”

“He peed on the receptionist’s desk.”

“ Midoriya .”

“Sorry.” The kid said, lips pressed together and lightly quivering as they held back laughter, not looking sorry in the slightest. It took a few seconds of disappointment staring before Midoriya was able to half school his expression. “But back to the original point.”

“There’s more-? Why am I even asking, of course there is.”

“That’s how dogs claim territory, not establish dominance. Dogs establish dominance by like, stealing the things of creatures they consider inferior.” Vlad’s dog probably steals his tacky mask. “Or I guess eating if it’s food. For horses, the mares fight to be the boss by having kick fights, keeping the best grass spots to themselves, and drinking water before everyone else. What I’m saying is tons of animals do it, including snakes.”

And there we go.

“So you’re saying Uwabami is legitimately trying to establish dominance like a snake?” Shota asked, swallowing something that was definitely not a laugh.

“Technically no. Not with this lobby as an example. In this case, she’s showing off wealth, but snakes show power through physical fights- like shoving- to prove they’re the fastest and strongest. And I don’t know too much about snakes, but I think it’s safe to assume adult snakes don’t pull that kind of thing with baby snakes.”

“So then what are you saying?” The black-haired man asked with narrowed eyes. Midoriya’s cool expression once again crumpled with quivering lips pressed in a giant smile.

“I’m saying if she takes a running start in this direction I won’t be the target.”

“ You little shi-”

The sound of clicking heels interrupted Shota’s waking nightmare of a conversation and drew the attention of the vice-principal and secretary of UA. There, standing five feet away from them after emerging through the doors and currently passing by the reception area, was Uwabami in all of her money-thieving glory. 

Her appearance didn’t matter to Shota, he didn’t care. What he did care about, and what his eyes immediately zeroed in on, were the golden snake-like bracelets resting on her wrists and ankles. Just the sight of it made him question whether she bought it with her own money, or if it was stolen straight from UA. 

The gold reflected in the pair of black eyes that once again swirled scarlet at the edges, and it reflected in the oh so familiar venomous green eyes that had lost all traces of whimsy and warmth. And at that moment, Shota decided he’d turn a blind eye towards whatever horrors the kid pulled out of his mind next. Uwabami glanced in their direction and stopped walking, gesturing towards them with her hand while lifting her head to address the receptionist. 

“Fujisawa, who’s this?” She asked, and the receptionists- Fujisawa- shot up in her seat like a cadet and clicked her tongue in the duo’s direction. Rude. 

“Aizawa Shouta, he claims he’s a hero from UA.” The woman put extra emphasis on the word ‘claims’ as if her distrust in him wasn’t obvious enough. She already saw his license, so what the hell was her problem? Shota guesses he can’t completely blame her, sometimes his resting bitch face makes him look a little more like a homicidal- well, not really, they usually think he’s homeless - maniac. But it still irked him, even if he didn’t let it show. “He says he and his disciple-”

“ Disciple. Who am I, Jesus?” Shota muttered, earning a glare in response.

“- want to discuss the matter of UA’s budget with you. Whatever that means.” Uwabami imperceptibly froze. Well, imperceptibly to anyone who wasn’t Shota and Midoriya. “I don’t know what that has to do with you but-”

“You’re right,” Uwabami said with an elegance that didn’t fit the crime, turning to the heroics teacher and student. Fujisawa perked up at that. “It has nothing to do with me at all, so excuse me if I don’t find this topic worthy of a meeting. I’m sure you can show yourselves out.” And with that, the woman began to walk away, having to slow down a bit from her fast pace as to not seem too eager to get away. 

Shota sighed. He expected this to happen, he just wished the woman would at least have the brains to try and get on their good side by cooperating when she knows full well there’s no way out of this. Shota snapped his fingers, and not a second later when he heard the sounds of pages flipping in a notebook, he was reminded of how much he loved doing so. 

Midoriya cleared his throat. 

“January 18th: Two pairs of high heel shoes.” The kid read out. Uwabami froze again. “One from Valentino and one from Prada- which just happened to be limited additions, as only 800 pairs were made.” Shota lightly gasped with a deadpan expression.

“Limited edition? My sincerest congratulations.”

“January 23rd: Two cabinets and a single wardrobe made out of purple heartwood. Each of them embracing the recent trend of textured furniture with thin grooves lining the side surfaces.” Uwabami whipped her whole body around and began heading towards them, faltering each time the kid opened his mouth, but never fully stopping. “January 30th: A crew of five members hired to paint a large area. Once again participating in the trend of sage green kitchens! February 1st: A maroon dress custom ordered from-”

“That’s enough.” Uwabami seethed in a hushed whisper, eyes darting around to make sure no one else heard. In the blink of an eye, she was a foot away from them reaching for Midoriya’s notebook, but the kid had pulled it away behind his back. “We’ll discuss this in my office.”

Before either of them could get a sarcastic remark in, her hand was already wrapped around Shota’s wrist in a death grip, pulling him along as she speed-walked towards her office. Annoyance from her invasion of personal space aside, the underground hero faintly noted that the kid turned out to be right.

She did take a running start towards them, and Shota was the target. 

Black eyes spotted the kid’s lips quivering and smiling again.

Brat.

“Okay,” The blonde woman spoke to Shota as soon as they were all scattered around the well-furnished office, “It’s a little weird how you brought a kid along for this negotiation, but I guess you gotta start them young. It’s gonna be difficult to squeeze you guys in, but I think everyone will be okay with losing a few bucks to someone who works at UA themselves. Sacrifices must be made, you know?” Not really. Did she think they were here because they wanted in? “Anyway, what do you want? Latest iPhone model? Trench Coat for winter? New sneakers for the kid?” Midoriya squawked.

“Why would I need new shoes?” Uwabami gave the green-haired kid a weird look.

“Huh? What do you mean ‘why’? They’re falling apart.”

“They’re in perfect condition!”

No, they’re falling apart. There are small tears and scuff marks on the sides, frayed ends on the shoelaces and tongue, and when the kid would run the tip of the outer sole would occasionally flap open. Shota understands the trait of rarely replacing clothing- after all, as long as it’s functional, why get a new one just for aesthetic reasons? But how long will this one stay functioning? 

He won’t say it out loud, though. Shota also understands the feeling of certain items being irreplaceable to the point where you feel exposed without it on you. That’s him with his goggles, it just feels wrong to have it off. So maybe he’ll just find a way to secretly drop an identical pair of shoes in Midoriya’s dorm room and hope that the kid doesn’t question it and occasionally starts using it instead. That way, no feelings get hurt and nothing gets fully replaced. 

He doesn’t think it’ll be easy to find an identical pair, though, the sizing looks off around the pinky toe area and there’s no visible brand logo on it. 

“Mint condition. Can’t even tell.” Midoriya frantically nodded to Shota’s words and Uwabami flashed him a ‘really?’ look. Hey, she of all people doesn’t get to do that to him. “And no, we aren’t here to join in on your little scheme. Sorry if you were in denial or whatever but we’re not on your side.”

Uwabami visibly deflates at that, showing that she really was in denial about it all. She spends about two seconds grieving before the elegant, business-like aura is back. Huh, fast thinker, no wonder she’s in disaster relief. 

“So, who snitched? Was it Ayano Takumi? Ryouta Ozaki? Oh I know, it was Chiyo Yuuta wasn’t it? She thinks she’s so cool just because she lived in New York for a year, it’s like she forgets Pizza was made in Italy and America can’t have the most authentic ones. Dumbass.”

“You’re in no position to call other people dumbasses, stop changing the subject. And no, it was none of the people you mentioned, but it’s interesting to know you didn’t trust them anyway.” Shota leaned down to be at the same level as Midoriya, “You got those names down, right?” The kid gave a firm thumbs up. Shota nodded and straightened back up to give his signature ‘smile’ to Uwabami, who shivered in response. 

“How we found out is none of your business, you won’t be able to escape the consequences either way. So you can either comply by giving us the rest of the information we need to completely shut this down and face consequences from me, or you can not do that, and face consequences from Nezu.”

She chose him in a heartbeat. And god, if the context was literally anything else, that would have been romantic. The underground hero started recording the audio on his phone behind his back. He doesn’t doubt that Midoriya would be able to write everything said down, or that he could just fill in the blanks of whatever he missed later with that scarily accurate memory of his, but none of that would hold up as credible evidence. It’d be too easy to claim it as forged.

“Just to make sure we have the situation right, you and several others sent in budget application forms to UA requesting money for a variety of things. None of you were the selected few that were given permission to do so, as all of you were outside of the top 30 in Japan hero rankings, and some of you weren’t heroes at all. The objects you requested money for ranged anywhere from clothing items to house furnishing to food. You began this organized effort two weeks ago. This is illegal, and you committed a crime. Confirm or deny.” Midoriya’s scribbling paused in sync. 

Uwabami muttered something.

“Sorry, what was that?” 

“I said confirm, asshole.” He smiled. 

“Thank you. Anyway, now that that’s covered, we can carry on with the real interroga- My bad, interview. Midoriya, take the lead.” 

Uwabami was surprisingly helpful, mostly because she knew the more helpful she was the less of a possibility there was that Nezu would hunt her down and murder her. Suck it, Hizashi, he was right, fear is a great motivator for today’s youth.

Midoriya’s interview - as the kid wouldn’t stop insisting on the way here- revealed that there were twenty minor heroes (including Uwabami, who seemed greatly offended when they called her minor), but apparently only five regular civilians were involved. Those five just created six fake identities each to suck out more money and create the appearance of bigger numbers. So yay, he thinks. At least Uwabami gave them all the full names on the pages of Midoriya’s notebook, some with large circles drawn around them.

And speaking of numbers, Uwabami stated that even though it seemed like they all got items for themselves, that wasn’t the case. The more people they had, the more forms they could send in for crazy expensive items, and the more money they could gather to pool in and split equally. Well, not equally, since Uwabami and her partner were getting the most, but everyone else got equal shares. And actually, only 1.1 million yen managed to be stolen. It’s still a lot and he hates all of them for it, but it’s a little nice knowing not everything in this room was stolen money. Shota wanted to call everyone in this operation selfish, but the blonde woman’s next words had him take it back.

“Not everyone in this is completely guilty, though. There were a few people that he- we tricked.” She said, eyebrows downturned and teeth nibbling on her freshly pedicured nail. “I went to the civilians and heroes who innocently needed money for a few obscure things, and I took advantage of that. I told them I could take care of it for them as a favor, and all they needed to do was buy whatever they needed themselves, just with the money I gave them.”

“Why’d you do that to them?” Midoriya asked, his face revealing that he wasn’t just asking for the sake of evidence, but for his own need for answers, too. 

“It was a failsafe, I guess. The people I went to were also smart, the kinds who would have easily caught on to this if given just a bit of evidence. So I made sure that if they ever tried to expose me, they’d get dragged down, too.” She let out a humorless laugh. “And I called it a favor to their faces. So, rest assured that some of the civilians and heroes on there- the names I circled- weren’t all bad. Please try to keep them out of it if you can, they did nothing wrong.” Shota nodded, I could probably pull that off . Uwabami gave a bittersweet smile in relief.

Midoriya also looked a tiny bit relieved, albeit still disappointed about the entire situation. But Shota was nothing but suspicious. 

“Why do you sound sad?” The underground hero asked bluntly. “You did that to them, not the other way around. You have no reason to feel anything other than mad about getting caught, so why are you sad?”

“Well, It’s not like I wanted to do it. He made me.” Ah, the infamous he .

“Who’s he? Your partner?” The kid asked, pencil ready to jot down whatever name she blurted out.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. He’s actually the one that roped me into all this, although he never told me how he found out about the budget applications in the first place.” Both the heroics teacher and student raised an eyebrow. Oh? “When he first told me about it he said he’d already been doing it for a week? Only a week and he already got a few of his other buddies into it- I don’t have their names by the way! Sorry!”

“Is he the type of person to easily admit to being involved in all this? Because if not I’m gonna need any and all records of communication between you two to prove there was a relationship.” Shota said and Uwabami faltered a little.

“I mean we barely ever talked… he would constantly annoy me and I would just tell him about updates on the operation and go right back to ghosting him but… I guess we have some texts… and maybe emails… and a few calls…”

The underground hero held his palm out. And with the understanding and compliance of a three-year-old toddler, Uwabami huffed and shoved her phone into his chest, muttering ‘1209’. Shota grasped the phone and held his other hand up like he was making a pledge.

“Promise to only look at the contact with your partner. You’ll get it back soon.”

“Were you also one of his ‘buddies’?” The kid asked. 

“Nah, he only told me about the budget applications because he wanted to buy me as a date. The nerve of that guy, he thinks I’m that easy!” Uwabami huffed. Then she turned to Shota as if asking for his opinion on the matter, to which he didn’t know how to respond with anything but a nod. “Exactly! You get it! God, if you weren’t trying to get me arrested, we could have been great drinking buddies.” 

Midoriya snorted, covering it with a cough as he continued to write down every single word. 

“I really doubt that-”

“Anywho, I rejected the date and blackmailed him into becoming a partner. And it’s a good thing I did, his system was completely reckless. With only him and three of his buddies involved with no plan, they were bound to get caught sometime soon.” He feels like she’s forgetting that giving them a plan isn’t a good thing in this context. “So a week later I got a bunch of other people involved to-”

“To send in a ton of forms at the same time and completely overwhelm the budget department of UA! That way they’d be too stressed and pressured to actually double-check the money and products being purchased and the list of heroes who were actually allowed to send in forms! And that’s why your plan worked so perfectly.” Midoriya interrupted, a wide smile on his face and his eyes gleaming in anticipation as if he had been waiting to say that this whole time. And knowing him, he probably was. 

Uwabami nodded with an expression that told Shota she also thought Midoriya would make a good drinking buddy, especially after the problem child had victoriously pumped his fist up in the air after that, excited that his theory was correct. God, now both of them forgot what counts as a good thing in this context.

“Ah, yeah, but that wasn’t the only reason it worked so well,” Uwabami said smugly. Did she forget that she literally got caught twenty minutes ago and Midoriya why are you looking at her with stars in your eyes- why are you taking notes on her strategy- “That alone wouldn’t have been enough. After all, I imagine UA’s staff is pretty cutthroat with all this, they wouldn’t be able to let all of these forms slide past so easily. They were bound to reject a few. So you know what we did?”

“What?!” Oh my god, Midoriya.

“We had an inside man.” Shota’s head whipped back to her and away from his student at that, ignoring how smug she got again. “Any forms that the UA budget staff rejected from our group, he would give the stamp of approval and stick right back into the pile. Easy as pie. But don’t worry, I’m merciful enough to have written down his name too. Hah, why does your face look like that, Aizawa-kun? Too impressed with my genius plan.”

“You…” He whispered, his complexion slowly going pale. A strange enough occurrence to make both his student and Uwabami concerned. “...You’re fucked.”

“Eh?”

Before Shota was sort of half lying about Uwabami not having to face Nezu’s wrath if she gave them the info they needed because let's be honest he’s his boss and he’d be fired if he found out Shota kept this a secret but now? Now it wouldn’t even matter if he kept it a secret, the rat already knows

There are cameras all over UA. Classrooms, offices, training grounds- in any place that you think there might not be cameras, there are fifteen more. Except for the bathroom and locker rooms, but Shota doubts her inside guy gave the forms his stamp of approval on the toilet. Nezu watches those cameras like it’s his only source of entertainment-

(Which it basically is. Every month he compiles a video called ‘UA’s Greatest Fails’ which is just a compilation of embarrassing UA staff moments captured from the B-16 camera in the teacher’s dorms that he plays on the big screen in the auditorium. The only reason Shota is excluded from this is that any moments the rat may have captured of him undoubtedly featured personal details that his status as an underground hero couldn’t allow to be leaked to hundreds of teenagers. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for Cementoss, who was recorded sobbing his eyes out to Simon’s death in Lord of the Flies.

It was sad, honestly. Especially since his face was made into a meme and posted all over UA’s Herogram account by Ashido. And then made into posters for Jiro. And then into keychains for Midoriya. And then worn as a shirt by Kirishima. All of which could be bought on Uraraka’s eBay account. Shota called it immature once but he didn’t have a response when Snipe pointed out that his coffee mug also had Cementoss’ face on it.

Yeah, he’s a hypocrite. Sue him.)

-his eyes are on it almost 24/7. Whatever her guy has done, Nezu has undoubtedly seen by now. So, as Shota has just said and what Midoriya probably agrees with now that his eyes give away that he came to the same conclusion, she’s fucked.

But maybe he shouldn’t tell her. 

“Nothing.”

“I clearly heard you say ‘You’re fucked’.”

Maybe he has to tell her.

“It… doesn’t matter. Really. You technically won’t be the one getting directly punished, since it’s your inside guy that’ll probably get the brunt of Nezu’s attack.”

“What do you mean Nezu’s attack?”

“Anyway, mind telling us why you did all this in the first place?” He changed the subject swiftly. The blonde woman gave him a sly smile.

“Mind turning off that recording?” Shota returned the smile as he shut it off. As expected from a disaster relief hero that depends on her keen senses. “I can guarantee you that I’m not some in-depth, misunderstood character of a novel. I did it for the exact reason you probably assumed of me when you came in here: I wanted to show off. I wanted the shoes, the dresses, the lush lifestyle- all of it. But my commercials and merchandise and hero work didn't get me all the funds I needed, so I looked elsewhere for it.”

“But even before all this, you led a lush lifestyle. Everyone has seen the videos where you give the audience a tour of your house, everything from the clothes in your closet to the food in your fridge were on display to a kind of creepy invasive level, and they reeked of money.” Shota said.

“Yes, but it wasn’t enough . For christ’s sake, I have snakes on my head! And while I wouldn’t trade them for the world, it’s not the best feeling knowing that it’s the most eye-catching thing about me and that people will- and have - judged me purely for that insignificant detail. I needed more material goods to balance the scale.” She sighed, running one finger over the scales of the purple snake. 

“People have called me scary, ugly, repulsive- so I tried my best to seem the opposite, if not for me then for the children with mutant quirks that I was trying to be a good role model for. Ironic, isn’t it? And in a way, I succeeded. I’m beautiful and I’m not humble enough to say otherwise because I know many agree, I shouldn’t have to say otherwise just so people won’t call me a self-obsessed bitch. But none of it mattered, it never did. I can drown myself in as much Gucci perfume as I want but at the end of the day I’m a nasty woman with nasty snakes on her head, nothing more but certainly something less in their eyes.” Her expression grew distant, “I played myself right into the prejudice fools’ hands.”

That doesn’t sound right.

“I’m not going to say you’re a good role model, because you aren’t.” She flipped Shota the bird and he rolled his eyes but continued. “But ignoring the fact that you committed a crime, you shouldn’t have had to be perfect for them, either. You shouldn’t have been forced to try and be portrayed as the exception to the cliche. If someone used you and your status as a woman with a mutant quirk to trash on the entire community, then they’re in the wrong. You’re not a good person, far from it, but you don’t deserve to have your identity weaponized against itself like that. So don’t… blame yourself for what others did.”

“...Thank you.”

“Just blame yourself for what you did.”

“God, you’re an asshole. Anyway, I know. But don’t shed any tears for me, Aizawa-kun, I’m a criminal and that’s on me, so don’t feel too bad. If anything I pity the kids with mutant quirks who looked up to me. In the best-case scenario, this can be kept a quiet, private matter, but even then the public will notice my absence and make crude rumors about it. Although, I guess this situation is pretty crude. I hate to disappoint them like this, they thought I was their hero.”

“You are their hero,” Midoriya said quietly. “Even after all this you- you’re still a hero. You saved people.” Uwabami smiled softly down at the hero student.

“I am, and hopefully one day I can continue to be. But only after I face the consequences for everything I did.”

Shota won’t sugar coat it, he hates this woman. She was irresponsible with Momo and Kendo’s internships and she stole money from UA to buy material goods in an organized effort. She’s a bad person. But at the very least she saved people, and she’s taking responsibility for her wrongdoings. So maybe he doesn’t think she’s completely self-

“But don’t we all deserve to treat ourselves sometimes?! We’re heroes, we should be swimming in money!” She exclaimed. Shota and Midoriya sighed as the underground hero spoke up.

“God I hate you.”

“Asshole. But c’mon! Look me in the eyes and tell me you’ve never wanted a Gucci shirt before.” Shota looked directly into her eyes.

“I don’t even know where Gucci is in this country.”

Uwabami’s golden eyes ran up and down his entire figure, resting on the scuff marks of his shoes, to the frayed edges of his sleeves and collar, to his unkempt hair, before giving him a pitying look while deciding he was a lost cause and turning to face his student. Wow.

“How about you! You can’t tell me you haven’t stolen money from your mother’s purse in middle school to hang out with your friends at the movies or arcade!” Midoriya tilted his head at her.

“You think I had friends in middle school?” This was just sad. Three people were in this room- one was bullied for a mutant quirk, the other was bullied for a villainous quirk, and the last was bullied for not having a quirk- none of which had middle school friends.

“Yeah, okay,” Shota started, slipping his phone back into his pocket, “We got the info and names we needed, so we might as well leave. Midoriya, finish writing anything you wanted to jot down and pack your notebook.” The kid gave a thumbs-up as he sketched the final details of a portrait of Uwabami’s yellow snake- is that thing seriously posing? “And Uwabami, you can just… wait here, I guess. You’re a hero, not a regular civilian, so you shouldn’t expect police officers to come rushing in here anytime soon, especially since this is a matter involving other heroes and a hero school itself. It’ll be kept as quiet as possible. But you should expect a very ominous email from either Nezu or the Hero Commission ‘asking’ to meet. One of those. Anyway, goodbye. Let’s never talk again.”

“Bye, asshole, I’ll think of your terrifying smile in my every waking moment till the day I die.”

“Sure.” Shota was already one foot out the door with Midoriya following behind before suddenly the problem child flinched and whipped back to face the blonde woman.

“I almost forgot, what’s the name of your partner?!” Oh right. Uwabami thought back for a moment- pfft, the guy was so pathetic she can’t even remember his name- before lifting a finger as a lightbulb went off in her head.

“Sensoji… something. Didn’t bother hearing his first name. Give him hell, he deserves it.”

Sensoji. He knows that name. He knows that person .

 “Oh, but he wouldn’t shut up about his hero name even after I told him how tacky it was: Mister Blast.”

Midoriya pumped his fist in the air.

“ Kid. ”

“The child next to you, Midoriya Izuku, already has his identity in our system from doing his work-study here last year, but I don’t believe we’ve seen you before. Could you state your full government name, hero name, and position please?”

Izuku lets his mind wander while Aizawa-sensei speaks to the receptionist, rhythmically tapping his fingers and quietly humming along under his breath to the tune of an old superhero theme song. Batman, he thinks? Simpler times, simpler times... 

“Aizawa Shota. Eraserhead. Heroics teacher at UA. You can cross-check the hero identification number on my ID with the system just in case.”

Maybe it was because they were so close to shutting down this criminal operation once and for all, but it seemed like his teacher had lost the majority of his patience. He hadn’t spared the heroes and employees in the Endeavor agency so much as a glance on his way in, moving straight ahead and letting them find their way around him instead.

“And what business does UA have with the Endeavor today?”

And as soon as he was directly across the receptionist’s desk, he had flashed his license just long enough for the young man to see the information before shoving it right back into his pocket and answering spitfire questions with no hesitation. 

“Discussing the UA’s budget and how much he’ll choose to donate to the school this year. The staff and I at UA assume he’s going to contribute the same amount as last year and the years before, but as always we’d like to double-check. Can’t be too careful, right?”

Even if his answers were complete lies. But it’s not like they could tell just anybody about budget applications, right? And their excuse was believable enough, so why stress?

“Right! Although I hate to say this, it might be hard to squeeze in a meeting with him right now, he’s currently out on patrol but the moment he gets back he already has a packed schedule. Would it be an inconvenience to ask you if you could perhaps come back in a few hours? You’re welcome to wait here in the meantime but in my opinion, the chairs aren’t all that comfortable.”

He’s sort of glad that his teacher isn’t leaving any room for objections, especially after the uncomfortable experience with the people in Uwabami’s lobby. Aizawa-sensei had already shown his hero license to Fujisawa, even taking the time to demonstrate that yes, his quirk really is erasure, it’s not a morbid joke, but she had still been reluctant to believe him. In fact, it was like she trusted him even less after his eyes burned red and his hair floated up, everyone in that lobby did. 

“Oh, actually, If I can’t meet with Endeavor himself I think meeting with one of his employees would be just fine. I actually already spoke to one of them a few days ago to notify them about this matter in advance. Mister Blast was his hero name, recognize him?”

At Uwabami’s agency, Izuku saw the way their moments faltered for a few moments staring at Aizawa-sensei before returning to their work, and even then they couldn’t stop their eyes from drifting over ever so often, taking steps away ever so slightly. It was like all of them had mentally unanimously decided that he was dangerous, something to be feared. And it was strange to witness.

“I do! Erm, but unfortunately I can’t remember what his exact position is here, I think he’s new. I might have to check with our records-”

He’s no stranger to discrimination, he’s gotten his fair share of it for fourteen years, and even now the people who knew him as quirkless back then still treat him like shit since they don’t know he has one for all now. And even the people who do know still look down on him for being a late bloomer.

“Well on the official website for the Endeavor Agency, right next to his contact information, his hero name and position here were listed. It said he was one of Endeavor’s secretaries that handles personal affairs? I imagine this sort of counts as personal affairs so one of my coworkers emailed him in advance a few days ago and according to her, he said he would be able to set up a meeting with me today. He signed his name as Sensoji but whether that’s his surname or given name I can’t be sure. He was the right person to contact about this, right? The staff at UA do everything we can to make sure no one can forge a position and somehow steal excess money from heroes such as Endeavor but if the website had an error or inaccurate information then-”

But being quirkless is different from having a quirk perceived as villainous by the public. When you’re villainous you’re feared, when you’re quirkless you’re a punching bag. When you’re villainous people watch their every move around you in fear of getting hurt, when you’re quirkless people are all too comfortable doing anything they want to you. Different experiences, but it must suck all the same. 

“N-no! Of course not! I can assure you that the Endeavor Agency website’s information can be fully trusted, UA doesn’t have to worry about a thing. And I’m sure that Mister Blast, as a personal secretary, is already expecting you for the meeting, so I can just call him right now and tell him you’re here to meet him in one of the available offices.”

But even after experiencing all that and seeing and hearing the experiences of others, it’s strange seeing it happen to an adult. To an adult that he painted as this indestructible iron wall in his head. And in a way he is, because Aizawa-sensei doesn’t let those comments trip him up. 

“Thank you, I appreciate it. But uh, to avoid any confusion since I’m not sure if my coworker told him that my student and I would be the ones meeting him today instead of her, perhaps it would be best if you told him that she was here to meet him instead? Or rather an associate of hers. And then I can just explain my presence when I meet him in the office.”

In the face of frightened looks, passive-aggressive insults, or just regularly blunt insults- he doesn’t care. He doesn’t let personal feelings about it- if he even does have feelings about it, he’s so blank!- impact his hero performance. It’s like he’s deaf to them. What’s that thing called again, selective hearing? That’s what he has. Which would make sense considering his best friend is Present Mic.

“ I can totally do that! Mind stating her government and hero name and UA position?”

But Izuku knows that can’t be completely true, he’s experienced that first hand. No matter how hard someone tries to ignore the harsh actions and words from others, it’s unavoidable. You either let them break you or you retaliate and break them before they can do anything more to you than they already have. Right now Aizawa-sensei seems to be teetering the line that separates the two, but it’s only a matter of time before the balance shifts. 

“Kayama Nemuri. Midnight. Hero art history teacher.” His teacher said, making Izuku much more aware of the conversation between Aizawa-sensei and the receptionist instead of having it play like white noise to his thoughts. But he thinks he understands everything going on. And that unfortunately includes the reason why his teacher said Midnight’s name instead of his own.

The receptionist, Nakamura, gave both of them a smile while dialing Mister Blast’s number before waiting a few moments and beginning to speak on the phone. 

“Mister Blast, sir? Hello, sorry to bother you, but there’s a hero that came to see you today. Erm, no, it is not Uwabami, and maybe you should refrain from referring to her in that manner when- Yes, of course, my apologies, I’ll get to the point. Um, the hero is actually a staff member from UA. They said they have been planning to meet with you for a while and that you should be expecting them. They wanted to discuss- Huh? Oh. Kayama Nemuri! Midnight! But they’re actually an asso-” Nakamura flinched and pulled the phone a few inches away from his ear as a loud but still muffled reply came through. Nakamura quickly went back. “Yes, of course, I can arrange with them to meet you there but you didn’t let me finish! They’re a-”

Three of them stood in awkward silence as the dial tone clearly came through, signaling that Mister Blast had already hung up. Izuku returned Nakamura’s smile, he deserved all the encouragement after that, especially since both of them were tricking him.

And this is what Izuku meant when he said he knew the reason Aizawa-sensei made the receptionist say Midnight’s name instead of his own. It’s because Mister Blast is a horrible human being who deep down only prioritizes women and money. Uwabami is still a sore spot for the green-eyed kid right now, but even she didn’t deserve to be treated like that by this guy. Nakamura cleared his throat.

“He says to meet him in office 3B. If you take the elevator over-” Nakamura leaned across the desk to guide Aizawa-sensei’s vision towards the right, “-there to the third floor and make a left, it should be the first door to the right of the men’s bathroom. You haven’t contacted him outside of email so I think I should warn you that his personality is a bit- erm. Just… good luck in there. Have a nice day!”

Izuku and Aizawa-sensei gave a polite nod before following her directions to the meeting place. With the hero student still tapping his fingers- to Spiderman this time!- and faintly taking notice of his teacher’s behavior. He had previously thought the foot-tapping, weight shifting, and eyebrow furrowing when Nakamura looked away were all signs of impatience to leave behind the questions of the receptionist, but the actions still persist even in the elevator. 

He also thought that maybe Aizawa-sensei was possible excited to finally catch the real leader behind the operation and take him down with the powers of the god of pettiness and logical ruses- that seems like his main hobby, after all- but usually, he has his scary smile when he prepares to do that. Right now all there is to see his lips pulled into a frown that his teacher occasionally bites hard enough to make the pink tone fade to white.

And Izuku knows that look because it’s the same look he would make on the train to Aldera when he was still quirkless.

It was anticipation (the bad kind), apprehension, and a whole lot of barely suppressed irritation. 

“Aizawa-sensei?” Black eyes grew a tad bit wider as they snapped over to look at him with a millisecond of hesitation when looking away from the door his teacher had just knocked on. That was strange. Aizawa-sensei was surprised and distracted, that never happens. “Do you... know Senso-?” 

The door creaked open before he could finish his sentence- Why does Aizawa-sensei look relieved?! What is he hiding?!- revealing Mister Blast himself who had his eyes closed with a smile and the neckline of his suit unzipped a bit. The underground hero covered Izuku’s eyes with his hand.

“Midnight! Oh, or should I say Kayama? Kayama-lama-ding-do- OH MY GOD WHO ARE YOU?! WHY IS THERE A CHILD?!”

Izuku still can’t see anything, but he assumes Sensoji had finally opened his eyes just to be met with the horrifying sight of Aizawa-sensei. Not that the guy is horrifying! No! But let’s be honest, if someone- literally anyone- woke up in the morning just to see a grown man giving them a glare that puts even the grim reaper to shame, they’d scream, too. 

But maybe not Mic or Midnight-sensei, since they probably had to see exactly that for over ten years. And maybe not class 1-a, either, because they’ve had to see that for a year, too. And especially not Izuku, since Kaachan has always done that to him his entire life and even before that his father did the same thing, just endearingly and unintentionally. And speaking of his dad, he wouldn’t scream either. You can’t be scared of something that you do in the mirror every day. 

“Who am I? You don’t know me?” Aizawa-sensei repeats as if he had no clue as to why the other person didn’t recognize him. Once again, strange. He’s an underground hero for Christ’s sake, nobody should know him! 

“Of course I don’t know you! Do you even work here?! Outsiders can’t just barge into random rooms however they please without permission!”

Izuku, still in total darkness, can still sense the way his teacher’s body stays tense for a few seconds as if it’s waiting for something more, waiting for Sensoji to take back his words and suddenly remember their relationship. Because if there’s one thing he’s sure of, it’s that they have a relationship, something old enough to be forgotten by one of them but left a big enough impression for Aizawa of all people to be apprehensive about the reunion. 

Two seconds pass, then three, and then suddenly his teacher’s hand relaxes in relief and falls limp, finally giving his Izuku his sight back and letting him see the face to put to the infamous Sensoji’s name. He’s pretty normal aside from the unusual spiked-up hairdo. It’s like Present Mic’s except grey, smaller… and sad. This was disappointing. But at least his zipper is up now. Izuku looks at his teacher.

He’s smiling.

Ah, now he’s excited for logical ruses.

“Who I am is none of your business.” The black-haired man says, ignoring Sensoji gawking at the way he casually makes his way further into the office. Aizawa fell back into the rolling chair while Izuku sat on the edge and swung his legs back and forth with his notebook in hand. “And while we’re on the topic, you of all people shouldn’t be talking about ‘permission’ so lightly. Problem child, catch him up to speed.”

“Hai! You, for reasons still unknown, became aware of the concept of budget applications at UA and used that to your advantage.” Sensoji froze. “You requested money for countless items, most of them being related to entertainment, such as a Hulu subscription, Spotify premium, and Knife Master 2100 which isn’t a support item goddamnit !” Izuku took a deep breath, “While doing this, you also recruited others into this, one of those people being Uwabami.”

“You-!” 

“Nope. He’s not finished.” Aizawa-sensei cut Sensoji off with a wide and equally terrifying smile. The green-eyed doesn’t know what their old relationship was, but judging by, well, everything, it must not have been good. 

It is also at this moment that Izuku realizes this is a valuable learning experience for his teacher’s intimidation techniques. Because so far, he’s already spotted quite a few.

The first thing his teacher did was clarify that he wouldn’t be answering any of Sensoji’s questions since obviously, he’s not the one getting interviewed ( interviewed! ) here. His identity, the whereabouts of Midnight, the reason he was given permission to enter the office- nothing. And even now he refuses to let the guy speak, making him wait until he says it’s okay. 

The next thing his teacher did was claim the larger, softer chair for himself, all while leaving the smaller and obviously more uncomfortable chair for Sensoji to sit in. He also took out the rolled-up evidential forms from his pocket and laid them in a line on the desk in between the two men, making sure Sensoji couldn’t put any of his belongings on the desk even if he wanted to. Thereby creating a physical and psychological difference. 

Always the hands-on learner, Izuku slid a pencil onto the desk to complete the line and received an approving nod from Aizawa. 

“Uwabami has already explained her portion of the plan. She recruited more people- heroes and civilians alike- to fill out forms and occasionally create fake identities to scam UA out of their money. More people, more forms, more money, more ways to overwhelm the staff. And she confirmed the presence of a mole within UA’s budget department staff, so there’s that. She also confirmed that you, Sensoji something Mister Blast sir, were her partner in crime and the one that got her into all this in the first place, who started a month ago. This was a crime. This was illegal.”

Izuku shuts his notebook and tries his best to mimic the same bored but out-for-blood expression that Aizawa-sensei made when speaking to Uwabami. And he can almost see his teacher with sunglasses holding up a sign that says 8/10 like this was a game show. Alright, solid score. “CONFIRM OR DENY?”

“Look, I don’t know what that woman told you but I didn’t get her into anything. Sure we may have had a few back and forths in the past, but it’s not like I wanted to. She was annoying and wouldn't leave me alone. And even now she’s trying to drag me into her problems.” Sensoji said, hands raised by his head. 

“I mean, technically, you were the one who wouldn’t leave her alone.” Izuku started, pulling Uwabami’s phone out of his backpack and opening his contact on the messaging app, “At least three times every two days for the past month and a half, you would text Uwabami a series of messages that would more or less have the same paraphrased meaning. You said ‘ You looked hot/pretty/sexy/good today’ fifteen times, ‘ I liked your outfit on tv today’ five times . ‘I was talking to my mom’ was a sentence starter seven times, and ‘ This reminded me of you’ was said a whopping ten times after you sent an image of a random piece of clothing.

“None of which was graced with a proper reply, only updates on new recruitments to the operation or how much money had been totaled up as well as the share you would be receiving. And according to Midnight’s dating advice article that I skimmed on the way here, all of those texts are things men supposedly say when they want to date someone. A pattern of unrelenting persistence is a common trait in a lot of them. It was scarily similar, though, and I feel like you read her article when texting that, too.” Izuku finished speaking and turned off the phone just in time to see his teacher giving it a weird look.

“...I’m not the only one who thought that was creepy, right?”

“I did feel very uncomfortable having to read this out loud.” Izuku practiced on the way here and admittedly gagged quite a few times. Poor Uwabami. He thinks he would blackmail someone too if they did this to him.

I mean not that he would legitimately blackmail someone and commit fraud but-

“What is this, huh?” Sensoji looked back and forth between both of them while chuckling, but his shaky eyes told Izuku he was a lot more nervous than he tried to hide. Mister Blast waved a hand at them. “Some kind of interrogation-”

“INTERVIEW!”

“-where you guys are gonna read me my Miranda rights and act like cheap cops on cable television?” Aizawa frowned and the guy’s laughter died out. Intimidation tactic number 5, displaying negative emotion!

“Well sure, if you want to downplay this situation and try to make it seem a lot more comical than it really is just so you can stay in denial about what’s inevitably going to happen by the end. In your eyes, we probably just barged in here and immediately started making wild, baseless accusations about you-”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I-”

“But we both know that’s not true, don’t we?” Aizawa shoved three budget application forms forward on the desk. “Take a look at any of them, it doesn’t really matter which one because all of them have your hero name and identification number on it. And if you’re too lazy to scan it yourself then I’m willing to read one of the forms out to you, then another one, and another one, and I’ll keep reading until you stop attempting to joke your way out of this. So, confirm or deny because we have other questions we need to ask and I’d like to stop wasting time.” Intimidation tactic number 10, obvious impatience.

A few beats of silence on Sensoji’s side and then:

“...Confirm and deny.” Both residents of UA groaned. “Confirm because yeah, I took a little-”

“Five hundred thousand,” Izuku called out helpfully.

“-money from UA and used it to buy me some nice things. And yeah, I generously let some of my friends do the same thing, including Uwabami. But she’s the one who blew this way out of proportion, not me! And-”

“This was already extremely out of proportion,” Aizawa noted.

“-who even cares if UA gives some of its money away? I went to that school, okay? I’ve seen it all first hand and I know that they have billions of yen stored away in some offshore bank vault somewhere.” Ah, right, Sensoji went to UA. Is that how they know each other? Old classmates? “What’s so wrong with giving it to someone who put in the hard work to deserve it instead of letting it rot or be spent for something useless? That was my way of seeing it, and you guys are only mad because I convinced others to see it the same way, too.”

Well, while it’s true that UA does have a lot of excess money and that some of it admittedly goes towards useless things, most of it doesn’t. A lot of people underestimate the amount of money hero schools need to save up for their students, and that includes Sensoji. Materials for working support items, durable costumes, medical expenses - all of these are saving lives. The elaborate training grounds? Believe it or not, they reflect real life. 

That’s what separates UA, Shiketsu, and Ketsubutsu from other schools. Its training methods make sure that their students are prepared to graduate, and it’s why the majority of graduates have fewer casualties, fewer career-ending injuries in the field, and are overall higher in the rankings. He says majority because Sensoji is an obvious exception.

Besides, UA is actively trying to do better when it comes to wasting money. The teachers are trying to do better! Just last week they finally got rid of the godforsaken zero pointers that haunted Izuku’s nightmares and instead used that money to add more safety measures to the sports festival (like a giant net under that gigantic ravine) and training grounds. And recently Thirteen got Nezu to invest money in making female hygiene products free for students! It may be baby steps, but it’s still a movement that he knows is speeding up nowadays. 

If Izuku had anything important to say on the matter, it’s just that he thinks UA could invest in other hero schools, too. UA’s low acceptance rate makes sense, but this country needs hundreds of heroes. And it also won’t stop kids from going to schools where the admittance rate is higher at the cost of low-quality training and teaching, which as he implied before, will lead to more casualties and more career-ending injuries. So this school might as well help out everyone else. 

They could also try to donate to more charities. But that’s a problem for later.

“I’m not gonna deny that UA has billions of yen stored somewhere, because it probably does, but what does that have to do with you?” Aizawa asked. “You think you deserve it? You ? I’ve seen diehard kpop fans do a greater service to their cause than you.” That doesn’t even seem like an exaggeration. “The way you paint yourself like some kind of Robinhood is repulsive, you don’t even help people with the money you steal, you just help yourself. If you’re gonna call UA selfish- once again not denying it- then at least try to be better. It’s hypocrisy at its finest.” Izuku’s teacher scoffed, “God, you really haven’t changed.”

Silence.

“Wait, huh?” Sensoji asked, and Izuku couldn’t help but mentally scream that he knew it. He knew it . He knew that these two used to have a relationship of some sort! Gee, he’s getting better at this detective work already. Watch your back, Tsukauchi, he’s coming for your career. 

“Forget it,” Aizawa-sensei said, no doubt shocked at himself for letting those last few words slip out, but still pretty satisfied? Huh? “You said confirm because you stole UA’s money, you let others do the same, and you were the catalyst for the Uwabami disaster. Now, why did you say deny?”

Sensoji gave a smug smile.

“I never said I stole anything.” Huh? “I admit that my friends weren’t given the go-ahead from anyone besides me to send in budget application forms, so I guess you could say they stole. But for me? I actually did get permission.”

“Bullshit.” Izuku and Aizawa said perfectly in sync, the same kind of expression on their faces that said ‘your entire personality makes you seem like you lie a lot- because you do- and I think this is also a lie’ but ‘no one is that self-assured in a time like this, what the hell kind of tricks did you pull?’

...Maybe Izuku should stop trying to put complicated names to expressions.

“I can guarantee you that it’s not. You can check my emails if you’d like,” Sensoji placed his phone on the table with Gmail open and slid it over to Aizawa. “This is the one directly from the Hero Commission that explicitly states my new privilege of sending budget application forms, as well as directions on how to do exactly that.” Right, this guy is way too self-assured to be lying. And judging by every word on the email that the heroics teacher and student just scanned, scanned again, and scanned two more times- He wasn’t. 

“...Why would someone like you be given this kind of privilege?” Aizawa-sensei wondered out loud, eyes that were just a tad bit wider than usual still glued to the phone. The equivalent of a person crazily screaming as they connected photos with thumbtacks and red yarn on a conspiracist corkboard. “You’re not in the top ten, top thirty, not even the top two hundred- you’re as minor and insignificant as can be. All of which implies that you have a low success rate and even lower work ethic. Your personality is greedy, sleazy, kinda creepy, and you’re definitely the type to have a few scandals stacked up somewhere. You’re… the exact opposite of the Hero Commission’s type.”

Sensoji, who looked like someone had just repeatedly slapped him in the face with sandpaper and then squeezed lemon on the points of impact- pretty merciful for Aizawa-sensei-, cleared his throat and pulled himself together enough to form a proper reply. Izuku didn’t have a smidge of pity for him, he was too busy taking notes on how to get the same reaction. 

“Are you sure about that?” Yeesh, couldn’t even make that sound cool.

“Yeah, I’m completely sure. It even took Midoriya a few seconds to recognize who you were, and that’s saying something.” Izuku nodded, that really did say something.

“That’s-! No, I meant are you sure about the scandals?”

“I’m sure about that, too. If your aggressively persistent texts with Uwabami are anything to go by, you definitely have a few harassment claims against you.” Aizawa looked up at that, “Actually, could you back up a bit?” 

“God forget it! Just google my name or something, you’ll find nothing. Another perk of having the Hero Commission on your side, they erase any and all bad press related to you.” Noticing that he technically hadn’t denied the harassment claim part, and rather implied the possibility that he really may have had one, Izuku scooted back.

“Fine, whatever, you still haven’t answered my original question. Why would they give you the right to use budget applications in the first place?” Sensoji smiled again.

“For the same reason I was able to snatch a position at the agency of the number 1 hero. Now, I usually wouldn't be allowed to share this information, but I guess you leave me with no choice, huh? We all know Endeavor, right? He's angry and aggressive and probably has a few skeletons in his closet that the commission backs up.” Izuku and Aizawa nodded. That at least they can all agree on. “Yeah, well, I was lucky enough to stumble upon some hardcore evidence as to what one of those skeletons was. And let me tell you, that shit is intense. Like, some psychological horror movie-worthy shit. So, I took it straight to the Hero Commission, and next thing I know, they’re paying me to sit still and look pretty. So here we are now, with them buying my silence. The point is, you got nothing on me.”

Sensoji forced himself to start laughing at Aizawa’s pissed-off face, all while looking like he was barely suppressing sobbing out of terror, but Izuku could care less about that. He already knows about Todoroki’s past, but no matter how much he wants his friend and his family to retaliate and make child abuse claims, he knows how tricky this system is. o

If revealed, the public might use Todoroki and his father’s current status as a hero student and the number 1 hero to pass off his experiences as simple hardcore training. They could even argue that it was all in the past and didn’t matter anymore now that Todoroki lived in the dorms, his father had knocked it off, and ‘He turned out fine in the end, right? Why does it even matter if no one really got hurt?’.

For now, until they found a sure way to deal with this, they were stuck.

But then… then there was Touya.

Todoroki barely spoke about him, but from what he gathered, it was his eldest brother that died from a tragic training accident, an accident involving his father. And besides Touya, Izuku is sure Endeavor has done many more misdeeds to his other two children and wife, none of which they had proof for. 

But Sensoji? Sensoji was different, he had the evidence that none of them had. Evidence that was undeniable and damning enough to make the Hero Commission themselves step in to handle it personally and bribe him out of it. (Yeah, Izuku is still struggling to wrap his mind around that concept, but he’ll power through for Todoroki.) With something like that, it might be enough to put Endeavor in a tight spot where the public opinion of him is lowered and he’s less trustworthy. And that would create the perfect opportunity to stack up every other claim against him. It would work .

“What was it?” The green-eyed boy blurted out before he could stop himself, interrupting Aizawa’s glaring session.

“Hah?”

“What- what was your evidence? What did it prove?” Sensoji scoffed.

“It’s adult business, kid, stay out of it.”

Aizawa has gone right back to glaring at Sensoji and Izuku knows he’s saying something, probably yelling something, but it’s so muffled that he can’t hear any of it. Right now the only thing processing in his brain is that Sensoji could help Todoroki and his siblings, he could bring justice to Touya and his mother, but he’s choosing not to. He’s an active bystander who’s enabling a monster like Endeavor to continue doing what he’s doing without repercussions. That’s Izuku’s conclusion.

But then before he knows it, he’s slipping back into his analyst mindset, and he thinks that Sensoji might just be a little more than a bystander.

Sensoji’s chin is high, he’s managed to keep his breathing steady and careless this entire time, and his condescending voice reeks of entitlement and delusion. He’s also aggressive with Uwabami, and by the way he’s leaning in closer than what’s considered polite with Aizawa-sensei, he’s most likely aggressive with everyone else he meets, too. And not just that, but Aizawa himself stated that he’s a hypocrite now and has always been one.

That sudden observation makes Izuku set his sights on Aizawa-sensei, who’s too busy yelling at Sensoji to notice that he’s become the boy’s newest target. When Uwabami first said Mister Blast’s real name, his teacher had stiffened up, despite his best attempts not to. Even on the way here, his body language said he was apprehensive about meeting the guy. 

And it was only after Sensoji had revealed that he had no idea who Aizawa was, did his teacher start subconsciously participating in intimidation techniques. Every insult that he managed to sneak in and every negative reaction he could get out from Mister Blast was immediately followed up by a self-satisfied smile like he had been waiting years to get those words out. To get even a little revenge for… something.  

Because if Izuku knows one thing, it’s that this relationship has to go back years, and it wasn’t a good one. Sensoji’s name and face alone were enough to change Aizawa-sensei’s usual demeanor, but there was no reaction vice versa. Whatever their old connection used to be, it was insignificant enough for one of them to easily forget about and move on from as if it had never happened, but had a big enough effect for the other to do everything they had done. It was strange but familiar, and as soon as Kaachan’s face had popped up seemingly randomly in his mind, Izuku immediately knew why. 

Putting all the pieces together, and adding to it with the fact that Sensoji and Aizawa were undoubtedly hero course classmates at UA and that an erasure quirk isn’t ideal for making friends, he realized what the signs were pointing to all along.

Sensoji was a bully. 

Izuku hates bullies.

“What was the evidence for, Sensoji?” The boy says suddenly again. He can see Mister Blast preparing to tell him it’s not his business again and his teacher preparing to yell at the guy twice as loud, but he keeps going. “Work? An accident at work? A villain? Family?” Sensoji falters and Izuku locks in, “Family. Natsuo? Fuyumi? Shoto? Rei? Touya? Touya.” 

Aizawa-sensei jolts a little. “Touya?”

“Touya’s quirk? Touya’s training? Touya’s death-”

“Jesus, kid, knock it off.” Sensoji is like a deer in headlights with his wide eyes and urgent interruption and Izuku is horrified .

But then there’s a weight knocking into his shoulder, and suddenly the small traces of green sparks that had begun to crackle against his skin dispersed, his hair settled back down against his neck- it subconsciously floated ?-, and everything became just a bit quieter. Sensoji is a horrible person, but at least he knows he won’t have to go crazy trying to prove that to people because he knew someone else already agreed. He knew that there was at least one adult who was on his students' side now. Aizawa-sensei looks like he’s contemplating something before he finally speaks up.

“Fine. You, as an individual, didn’t technically steal money from UA. And therefore, you will not be punished for that specifically.” The pure relief on Sensoji is like a slap in the face to the student and teacher, but there’s nothing they can do about it. “However, that doesn’t change the fact that you still shared confidential information that the Hero Commission gave you about budget application forms to your friends, which included Uwabami, who then proceeded to get twenty-five others to steal money as well. And in case you were wondering, she and her recruits stole over 1.1 million yen in total. We don’t know who your friends are, so we can’t be sure how much they stole, but I imagine it’s not exactly small.

“And while every single person involved, or at least those who knew exactly what was going on, will be punished for their crimes and forced to pay back what each of them individually stole, the fact of the matter is that you hold the most responsibility here, everyone else is just an accomplice. I can’t imagine that the Hero Commission would take too kindly to that.” Aizawa-sensei said calmly, watching with blank eyes as Sensoji paled again. Any amusement was gone now that they knew the truth, and what truth Mister Blast was hiding. “However, there is a way to get off easy.”

Izuku jolted and sent a look that screamed ‘WHAT? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? HE SUCKS!!’ to his teacher. His teacher then sent him a look that said ‘I KNOW HE SUCKS BUT ROLL WITH IT, I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING’.

When did they start telepathically communicating? Izuku didn’t know. Trust the process, he guesses. 

“Even though I have more than enough evidence to report back to the Hero Commission,” He gestured to the countless slips of paper on the desk. The ones Sensoji still refused to look at since he wanted to keep up his Mother Mary act. “We still need some information from you. So, if you cooperate and give us the answers we need, I’ll leave all of this here and let you shred it to your heart’s desire. Ohhhh, okay. So that's what he had planned. “Don’t do that, and I’ll bypass the Hero Commission and go straight to Nezu. Usually, I’m nicer than that but you did waste a lot of my time today, this is the least I could do to repay that. So, HC or Nezu?”

Much like Uwabami, Sensoji chose the alternative option to Nezu right away, and it made Izuku wonder how infamous the principal must be outside of UA. Because inside UA, it’s easy to see how much fun he has scaring the living daylights out of teachers and students alike. But his activities outside of that have always been kept a secret, so what was the full extent of his track record that made the country bend to its knees?

You know, for research purposes.

Once again like Uwabami, Sensoji complied pretty easily. He guesses the temptation to save themselves of full consequences must have been pretty strong, because he didn’t even hesitate to write down the official names, the amount each had stolen, and even addresses of his buddies in his notebook. Actually, is he doodling mini versions of their profiles in the corner…? Yeesh, talk about a snitch.

Izuku ignored the small voice in his head, which sounded a lot like Aizawa-sensei now that he thinks about it, whispering to him that a snitch was supposed to be a good thing in this situation.

As soon as they had all the information they needed, Izuku hopped off the desk and collected all the forms his teacher brought for Sensoji in one large stack, sliding them over to the man without a second glance. It doesn’t matter anyway, those forms didn’t even have his name on them. It was just Midnight’s dating advice article that they had Fujisawa print several times- much to her dismay and Aizawa’s silent bliss- so Izuku could read it on the way here and pretend to be evidence. 

No, the real evidence was either in Izuku’s backpack or back on Hyun Gong’s desk. What kind of idiot would let that be shred so easily? Actually, no, what kind of idiot didn’t even read the self-proclaimed evidence against them? Not even a single glance? The one for all user wanted so badly to see his reaction when he finally read the papers, but alas, it would probably be a smarter decision to get the hell out of here before he could.

“Well,” The underground hero said, getting up from the chair as his scarf slipped down a bit. If he noticed the way Sensoji’s eyes paused on that small detail, he didn’t comment on it. “we have everything we need, so we’ll take our leave. As a parting message, I think all I have to say is that you're a horrible human. Goodbye, never curse my eyes with your knock-off goggles ever again.”

As Aizawa-sensei made his way out the door, holding it open so his student could awkwardly try to sprint through before tripping and getting up, Izuku noticed the way Sensoji’s lips mouthed ‘knock-off goggles?’. They saw Mister Blast’s eyes freezing on the yellow goggles that rested at the base of his teacher’s neck, only visible after the grey capture weapon slipped down, and they could hear the man say one word to them for the last time before he’d be out of their lives forever.

“Aizawa?”

The door slammed shut.

Shota sat cross-legged on the hood of Nemuri’s car, waiting for both of his annoying but endearing coworkers to come out as he examined the video camera in his hands. 

Coming to terms with the fact that a lot of the top heroes use UA's money to their heart's delight to buy the most useless items, the Hero Commission regularly covers up hero scandals and bribes people in silence, and that hero scandals even exist in the first place is always a hard pill to swallow. It is for everyone, even him. 

From the moment a kid has the mental ability to comprehend society around them, they'll immediately latch onto the idea that all heroes are inherently good. It's inevitable in this day and age unless you keep them under a rock or something. The only people who know otherwise- know the truth- are ones who have personally experienced the darkness that a lot of heroes hold. 

Shota, Nemuri, Shinsou, Todoroki, and Midoriya have all experienced that. But even then, it never stops hurting to witness. Like one giant punch in the gut. And that's enough to make almost anybody sit out of the game for a while.

It's why Shota is immeasurably grateful that Midoriya was able to push through and focus on the main course of action, saving the total existential crisis for later. Or should he say for Hound Dog?

As he and Midoriya both knew all along, even after it was revealed that Sensoji surprisingly did have permission after being bribed into silence, there was no way that guy would get off easy. He could have if he had realized the evidence Shota showed was just Midnight’s article all along, but luckily his stupidity stayed true. 

His and everyone else's actions (Yes, he did get those goddamn identities) would be reported to the Hero Commission in a scarily detailed email from him to then rightfully receive either full-on prison sentences, a hefty fine, or a temporary/permanent suspension on their hero licenses. Except for the people Uwabami tricked, of course, because all they’d be getting is a very pitiful letter handwritten by Midoriya explaining why they are amazing human beings and don’t deserve this. And yes, a few of them are stained with teardrops. 

He only says ‘temporary’ suspension because he wasn’t lying when he said Uwabami was incredibly useful in the field, she’s just bad at internships. And bad morally. The commission would no doubt want to keep her on duty, so at most, she’ll get off with a large debt and parole. As for Sensoji? Well, he doesn’t seem all that useful, so a permanent license and budget application privilege suspension might be coming his way soon. Especially since he caused all of this and couldn’t even do his original job of staying silent about the evidence he found in the first place.

Still, though, he didn’t think that alone was enough of a punishment for a person as horrible as Sensoji, and he thinks Midoriya agreed, judging by the weird pouting/glaring at nothing face he had during the walk back to UA. But the kid’s happy-go-lucky attitude was quickly brought back to life once the underground hero reminded him that there was a beeping red light in the corner of that office the whole time. It was no doubt a camera with audio that Endeavor will eventually review since that’s probably exactly what he's been doing the entire time that Sensoji started working there.

Was Shota enabling the number 1 hero to find out that Sensoji was blackmailing him with info about his eldest son for the past month to suck money out of his youngest son’s school and his Alma Mater? Yes. Was he also letting the man find out that Sensoji had revealed that detail to his youngest son’s teacher and classmate, who were already suspicious of him? Also yes. Was he also also letting the number 1 hero go batshit crazy and traumatize Sensoji for the rest of his life? Also also yes. 

That’s it. That’s all he has to say. He’s happy that the guy is finally getting karma sent his way and he’s not afraid to admit that it has more than a little to do with a high school grudge. 

It was a shame they never got to hear what evidence Sensoji had on the bastard, though. Especially since it was related to Touya’s death, which they only found out after Midoriya had done his terrifying secret method of weeding out secrets. On the way back when he asked the kid what the hell that even was, all he did was shrug and say he learned it from an American magic movie.

Because of course every single personality trait of his can be traced back to a pop culture reference.

The kid had also asked on the way back if he knew who Sensoji was before today’s meeting, which of course he said no to. They both knew it was a lie, the kid’s smart enough to figure that out on his own. But he’s also smart enough to not shove his nose and ask questions about personal matters that others obviously don’t want to discuss. And for that, Shota will always be grateful.

But hopefully, Nezu can figure something out once he reads all of Midoriya’s notebook transcripts of everything that took place, which he’s probably done by now since Shota gave it to him about fifteen minutes ago before school was dismissed. When he got to the rat’s office and bluntly told him that twenty-eight people had stolen a total of over 1.6 million yen from UA, he didn’t even bat an eye, as expected. And it confirmed what both he and the kid already knew: That Nezu had been aware of this scam all along. 

Well, maybe not everything about the scam, just the part about the inside man and stolen money, but nothing about the identities of everyone else involved. So for now Shota can at least try to pretend like his entire life and every step he takes wasn’t already set and planned out by an evil rat, even though he knows it is but will continue to deny it. It sounds like the plot of a bad sci-fi mo-

No. Absolutely not. Midoriya is the one who connects his daily life back to pop culture, not him, and he’d like to keep it that way, thank you very much. 

As for why his boss hid it and let the inside man operate so easily this whole time, he didn’t know. But his best guess is that he was waiting for the perpetrators to dig themselves a hole so deep that they’d fall into utter agony once they got caught. It would fit pretty easily into his merciless personality. 

Kind of like how some retail stores don’t go after a thief who only steals a few bucks, and instead patiently gathers evidence of them repeatedly committing the same bad deed so that when they finally do arrest them, thousands of dollars have been stolen and the crime is now way more serious than a simple shoplifting case. The consequence, therefore, being much worse than they first thought. It’s smart and ruthless, and Shota has no complaints. These guys deserved it for stealing money.

And even if he did have complaints, he’s not suicidal enough to say them out loud to Nezu. 

And, seeing that the Nezu was apparently in a good mood while munching on brie cheese, Shota thought now was the right time to mention Midoriya’s idea of putting their gigantic sum of money to use and giving some of it to other hero and non-hero schools to help out, as well as a few charities. He wasn’t graced with a verbal reply, but the calculating look in Nezu’s eyes told him that the rat was already deciding how much money should go to who and which charities to support. 

And while that was happening, Shota finally remembered the original job he had to do today: Find the goddamn location of the video camera for Hizashi. He can still remember the exact conversation they had as Nezu was compiling all video evidence he had of the inside man into an email to send to and terrify him before he took revenge:

~

“Do you remember Mic’s old documentary about UA life? The-”

“The incomplete documentary that had sixty clips piled one after the other lasting a total of 1 hour and 36 minutes. One that he immediately started filming exactly 14 years, two months, and three days ago on his newly acquired video camera, but was forced to put a halt in production after your class’ teacher had confiscated the item and left it in my confiscation box, never to be seen again. That one?”

“Yep.”

“And now, after suddenly remembering its existence, Yamada-kun now has a very deep desire to have that video camera and its entirety of lost footage back?”

“Mhm.”

“Causing him to force you to try and find the location of the said video camera. Which you tried to do so by breaking into this office and going through my computer files without me finding out. And you would have continued to do so had Midoriya not come in here a few minutes later to report to you the news about Hyun Gong, making you quickly put the video camera matter aside and rush to the economics department.”

“Yes? Wait-”

“I congratulate you on another course of action well done. And now you have finally come here to get the location before Yamada-kun can question you again. But do not fret, Aizawa-kun, as I have already prepared the video camera in a box that you can find on your desk once you return to the classroom of class 1-a.”

“I don’t know why I bother.”

“I do. Would you like to hear the reason?”

“...No. Thank you.”

~

And that brings him to the present moment, flipping through clips of his teenage years through the eyes of his loud friend and being quite proud of how his younger self avoided the camera as much as possible. A pretty worthy feat considering Hizashi sat right next to him and that guy’s inhuman level of stealth kept whipping out the camera to shove in Shota’s face. 

There were clips of Nemuri and Hizashi doing karaoke at an arcade, Nemuri dancing with Sushi in her arms, Shota delicately taking Sushi away from her while scream-whispering that cats shouldn’t be thrown around, Sushi’s birthday party, Sushi’s birthday afterparty where Tensei whipped out five cans of beer, Oboro repeatedly kicking Tensei in the stomach while reminding him of all the medical side effects of underage intoxication and alcohol abuse- Wait.

Wait.

Shota shut off the video camera. That’s not a topic he wants to get into right now, he’s already mentally exhausted. Instead, what he should be worrying about is whether or not he’s been sticking to his original game plan of destroying everything and everyone. 

He vividly remembers telling himself that his changes were going to be noticeable but not too noticeable should the Hero Commission be altered about how he’s taking on more responsibility at UA, but look at where he is now. The email he sent them had his name right there, you know, like an idiot. No normal teacher would take a random field trip to interrogate- sorry, Midoriya- and intimidate a bunch of minor heroes into giving him the identities of people who stole hundreds of thousands of yen from this school. Normal teachers would look at the situation, sigh, and give it to Nezu.

It’s what he dreams of doing every night. But alas.

And not just that, but he also vowed to help out everyone except the Hero Commission, but look at where he is now . And yeah, technically he was only trying to help UA, not them, and especially not Endeavor, but to do that and achieve proper revenge against the scoundrel that is Sensoji, he needed to inform them that the bastard is a cold hard snitch. Even though he did that by also being a snitch.

Every action he’s taking is too risky. Leaving the safe space of UA where nothing can get past Nezu and venturing outside to the deep and dangerous jungle of influential hero agencies might have produced results in the end but it’s also something that the higher-ups are easily notified about. They actually get notified of everything that goes on in agencies, no matter how insignificant the people inside of them are. And the moment they see suspicious activity, like Sensoji’s case, for example, they strike.

And Shota is nothing if not the epitome of suspicion these days. 

He needs to stay at home base and stick to solving internal problems, stay quiet like he always has instead of being too outgoing- his definition of that, at least- and clumsily letting his new presence as vice-principal be known. Because if he doesn’t do that, then not even Nezu can prevent the HC from ripping that newfound power away. And Jesus Christ does he want to keep that power.

...That sounded a little concerning, Ignore and proceed.

Overall, his main priority is helping UA and fucking over the Hero Commission. Nothing more nothing less. If he had to choose a way to describe it, he could say it was laying low and occasionally sticking a knife up to stab the feet of people who try to walk over him.

“What’s going on that head of yours, Shota?” Nemuri said when she finally got to her own car, shoving him a little so she could sit on the hood as well. Hizashi doing the same thing and leaving him with one leg on the car and the other hanging off. It’s like they forgot they could just leave now that they were all here.

“Feet.”

“That’s not a sex joke, is it?”

“I regret speaking to you.” Shota ignored her loud laughter in favor of hopping off the car and tossing the video camera into Hizashi’s hands, letting him fumble to catch it for a few seconds before finally realizing what it was. His friends’ eyes grew wide as saucers. 

“...You found it,” Hizashi said quietly for once, letting a small smile bloom on his face. Shota stared at the action for a few seconds before snapping out of it and looking back down at the camera.

“You’re shocked?” Both of them nodded without a second thought and he couldn’t even feel offended by it. All of them knew this was a death mission, one where Shota either came out traumatized, dead, dead on the inside, or looking forward to being dead. This was an uncalculated result. “I went through it, too. You really did film everything.”

“Oh! I remember this!” The R-rated hero said excitedly as she went through the footage, “This was Sushi’s birthday afterparty! God, that was a fun night. It could have been even more fun if Oboro let us drink the damn-”

She stopped talking suddenly, and the three of them sat in silence as their minds wandered to memories of a simpler time, not even having to discuss it out loud for them to know that they all took the same path leading to the same person. Vivid images of blue hair and eyes that never managed to fade with time. Another minute of silence passed before Shota spoke up again.

“Nemuri?”

“Yeah?” Their eyes met.

“...There’s this disease called Pancreatitis that you can develop over time after repetitive intakes of large amounts of alcohol-”

She threw her heel at his head, and three voices laughed the grey skies away.

Chapter Text

As a kid who was missing the one thing that defined people in life, it’s only natural that Izuku tried to fill that gap.

How did he (try to) do this? Simple: Friends. Since that’s the only thing the kids in the cartoons he watched did, and at that point, he had no reason not to trust Twilight Sparkle and the giant castle the power of friendship gave her. But judging by the unanswered birthday party invitations and his permanent title as the last choice for P.E team picking, it did not work out. 

However, he still feels as though the means of attempting to make these friends were even more embarrassing than his empty-handed results.

For example, the first thing he tried- and there’s really no way to preserve his pride in this- was basically being everyone else’s willing servant. Chips, chocolate bars, milk cartons, mechanical pencils were all in his inventory, and he was not above using them to bribe people into being his acquaintance. Picture the situation as a fishing rod with green hair, except the bait was 100% of his dignity and devotion and 50% of his weekly allowance. Not to mention the fish were jerks.

Nowadays he would look back and realize how dumb that was, especially since he would later go on to become their unwilling servant.

Then he tried to improve his physical looks. Once again to bait people into being his friend, only this time slightly more self-aware and dignified. Though as you can probably guess, he also did not succeed at this. According to other people, at least. 

In his opinion, he’d say that the hours he spent obsessing over youtube tutorials paid off, but apparently his shoe and t-shirt choices weren’t exactly the trendiest in modern fashion. Izuku still remembers his father holding back tears during one of their facetimes in 4th grade when he tried to convince his son to crack open a fashion catalog once in a while. 

Both of his parents should have just been grateful he didn’t know where to shop for neon shorts.

And finally, when faced with the pink-colored poster for some club called “Period!” that met up every Wednesday from 4 to 5, he tried clubs. It was literally a shared space for a group of people to engage in common interests, if that’s not the epitome of friendship he doesn’t know what is.

Then again, it’s also the epitome of a cult, but who is he to judge. 

And no, he didn’t end up joining the club that talked about menstrual cycles. It was more symbolic of what lies beyond.

But time and time again, whether it was basketball or book clubs, he was denied entry. The club admissions leader’s reasoning for not letting him in ranged from not having enough professional experience- as a 7th grader-, to his “suspiciously large green hair that’s most likely full of secrets”. Sometimes he just wished people would be upfront about their quirkless prejudice instead of giving him even more oddly specific insecurities. 

Izuku tried asking that last girl if she actually thought that or if she just wanted to make a Mean Girls reference, but he was sent stumbling out the door before he could get an answer. That moment may have been what blacklisted him from any other club related to fandoms and pop culture. They couldn’t risk being found out, he supposes. 

Anyway, he gave up on middle school friends. That doesn’t mean he stopped being kind to people from that point on since he wasn’t that spiteful when it came to taking out his frustration, it just meant he’d stop expecting anything to come out of that kindness. And maybe that was for the better.

So he started focusing a little more on individual interests. 

Whether it was to make up for the loss of a quirk with other great accomplishments or simply to look so tied up that strangers will blame his lack of company on him being too busy rather than more obviously a loser, he didn’t care.

He found endless hobbies to drown in and distract himself with. Drawing, cooking, parkour, flower pressing- you name any activity and he can guarantee he needed medical attention for the aftermath of it. Especially bookbinding. Damn his poor hand-eye coordination. 

He won’t lie and say that the skills he built up over time weren’t useful, since his parkour training is the only reason he didn’t dislocate his legs last year, but that didn’t mean it made his quirkless life any easier, either. If anything, it just made it feel more lonely. 

But then he met All Might, barely avoided getting tetanus on a beach, got a quirk, and got into UA. And when faced with a new student body that wouldn’t be able to look down on him because of his quirkless status anymore, the hope for high school friendship was rekindled. 

That is, until he asked an upperclassman where all the sign-up posters for extracurriculars went and got nothing but a blank stare and a dull response of ‘There are no clubs in UA High School’. Then he asked how there could be no clubs in a gigantic place like this and got the same answer yet again. And he was about to ask if having no extracurriculars was even allowed given it was a key part of university resumes but the girl he was talking to kept twitching her face and he had a feeling she would glitch out if he said the word ‘club’ one more time. So he reluctantly left it at that.

Judging by Kaminari’s 3 a.m memes he started receiving only two weeks into the semester, Izuku was obviously able to make friends, but he wished this military base of a school had alternative ways to make friends that didn’t end with him breaking three limbs. Like clubs. But they didn’t, according to the 3rd year war veterans. 

Or at least, that’s what they wanted him to think. 

It took Izuku about a month of subtly interrogating his fellow students to figure out this was some ‘There is no war in Ba Sing Se’ type shit and that everyone here was definitely under the influence of brainwashing. So after a solid year of calling alumni, raking through articles, borrowing old yearbooks, and waiting till just the right opportunity to present his argument, he finally has enough evidence to complete the long-awaited mission.

“I want to bring clubs back to UA.”

“There are no clubs in U-” Midnight cut herself off with a violent snort followed by loud cackling at Izuku’s horror-stricken face, ignoring the deep sigh behind her. “Sorry,  sorry , I just really wanted to do that. Anyway, you were saying?” Izuku flipped open his notebook and slid it across Aizawa’s desk to her. 

“At the moment, there are no clubs at UA. No newspaper, no orchestra, no sports teams, and no theatre.” There was a collective groan in the room, “I’m not really complaining about the last one but I guess it deserves some dying respects. Anyway, in the yearbook you and Mic-sensei let me borrow since Aizawa-sensei said he burned his right after he left school, there were two whole pages dedicated to photos of students in extracurriculars. But in Power Loader-sensei’s yearbook, the pages were gone, and even the club awards through the years were erased. Now the age difference between them is 4 years, and the difference between you two is 5-”

“That was an unnecessary statement.” Midnight huffed. 

“-which means that somewhere in that time range, clubs and any record of them were completely eradicated. The question is why!”

Izuku leaned out of his chair to show both of the heroes the next page, which had neatly cut newspaper clippings glued to the inside, right next to illegible chicken scratch handwriting. 

“After that, I searched for every article within those four years that mentioned UA-”

“Sometimes I wonder where you find the time for this.” Midnight pondered aloud 

“- and its extracurriculars, and soon enough I found the root of all of this. Two years after Mic-sensei graduated, one of UA’s alumni was a source of controversy after he screwed up a mission by causing thousands of dollars worth of private property damage which resulted in two casualties and one permanent disability. 

“This mishap led to the public questioning whether or not UA was worth its salt, and if there was more the establishment could be doing to prevent their other graduates from making the same mistakes as that hero. Because of this, the only change this school could make at the time, that would be noticeable but not  completely  detrimental to the kids, was to ban all extracurriculars, in fear that having them would distract the students from their studies and screw over the rest of society. And so, clubs faded into oblivion.”

Izuku ended his rant with a deep breath and another gulp of coffee. 

The mug he swiped from the Aizawa, by the way, and the coffee he’s been drinking right out of the pot in the teacher’s lounge. He’s practically been living here since last week and it’s come to the point where he takes full advantage of their drink supply. 

Although he might be getting a little too used to it, judging by how he was halfway through yelling ‘WHO FORGOT TO REFILL THE ICE?!’ in the breakroom even though that ice is technically off-limits to him as well.

“While I do feel bad for the students who suffered all because of one lousy hero, it seems to me like it’d cause a lot of complications if we were to bring clubs back. After all, the ban was specifically made for public relations.” The R-rated said contemplatively. 

“That’s true,  but ,” Izuku pointedly ignored the way his teacher seemed to brace herself for the word vomit that was about to be spewed at her, “the students focusing on their studies is no longer an issue, now that UA has been able to recover from that hero’s scandal by ranking number 1 in even more aspects of the school. Plus, Endeavor rising to the number 1 spot rather than Hawks was also in our favor. So since that obstacle is out of the way, we can prioritize another argument to bring back clubs.

“In recent years there’s been several protests from both parents and students against elementary and middle schools due to their belief that the curriculum has been promoting the job of a hero above all else, not giving the kids enough information on other career choices. They said that there was little to no support for students who aimed to get other kinds of jobs, and they were right.

“As we all know, the ban on clubs was to help-” Izuku made sure to put quotations on that last word because lord knows he was barely holding back tears the day someone told him this godforsaken school didn’t have a gardening club, “-hero students, and maybe support course students in the background, but what about general education kids? Extracurriculars are a vital aspect for most universities, not to mention it’s a segway to them figuring out what they want to be as an adult, so really all the ban did was harm them. And that, combined with the constant villain attacks, paparazzi, them previously being forced to participate in a live broadcasted sports festival, and more, it’s…”

“Rigged against gen ed kids.”

“To put it lightly.” 

Last week he and Aizawa-sensei tried to do their part to mend the relationship between the students in different courses, and he personally knows they succeeded in doing that. But at the end of the day, all they really did was shove hundreds of kids in the same area and expect them to work out their differences without actually making any positive changes. Expect the general education kids to brush off all of their hardships as something insignificant that can be solved with a simple apology, and a non-verbal one at that. 

It’s truly a wonder how the gen ed course hasn’t tried to sneak into the dorms and kill them all in their sleep yet. Maybe the only thing stopping them is the fear that Tokoyami and Eri will catch them while they’re awake doing a seance. Tokoyami intentionally and Eri unintentionally but happy to help.

But with this, even if it is technically helping every other course in the process, they’re one step closer towards giving the gen ed course the support that they should have gotten the entire time. As well as one step towards an equal working environment that doesn’t shove its blatant bias towards the hero course in everyone’s faces 24/7. Screwing over heroes is something he thinks Aizawa would be overly enthusiastic about. 

But speaking of his teacher…

Izuku ducked his head down and slowly slid closer to Midnight at the opposite end of the desk, poking lightly at his notebook that she was taking a closer look at to grab her attention. 

“Why is Aizawa-sensei doing that?”

The erasure hero was in a weird position; Half-sitting on the very edge of Midnight’s desk that was right in front of his own. Izuku would call him a deer caught in headlights if it weren’t for the fact that there was no surprise showing on his face. Or really any emotion showing on his face. Ever.

Aizawa-sensei blew a strand of hair out of his face, “Doing what?” 

“Leaning in a position that’s obviously not comfortable for your back, against a desk that you usually don’t want to be within three feet of given the strong scent of vanilla perfume coming off of it in waves-” 

“Both of you have an unnatural and immoral hate towards vanilla and I refuse to quietly accept it.” The purple-haired woman interrupted, slamming two hands on the desk.

“-and for the entire time that I’ve been speaking you’ve been listening while sliding an inch further away every 30 seconds.”

The three of them sat still for a few seconds, letting the reality sink in that Izuku is constantly watching even the smallest of their movements and that Midnight has been trying to slowly condition them into liking vanilla. A nice but ultimately useless effort on her part. A small sigh broke through the silence.

“Every 29 to 35 seconds, actually,” Aizawa-sensei stated, “I was trying to throw you off but I see my usual tactics aren’t working.”

“Ohhh,” Midnight drawled, the smirk spreading even wider across her face when she caught Aizawa’s glaring eyes in her direction, “You mean why is he retreating back into his shell of darkness and tears? It’s because Shota would never willingly put thought into anything involving social activities.”

“Not true.” It’s 100% true. 

If Izuku looked closely into Aizawa-sensei’s eyes right before he had to talk to a civilian, he could almost see a computer screen in there filling up with codes that programmed him to act like a human being instead of a subtly annoyed brick wall. Or more accurately, brick wall adhesive, because being an actual wall would involve too much tiring effort put into standing.

And then there’s Izuku, using this extracurricular course of action as an excuse to come crashing through that brick wall like a kool-aid man with a bad haircut and a pretty damn good All Might impression. 

“Is that why you were ready to head to the trash can when we went over the plan thirty minutes ago?” Izuku tilted his head.

“Possibly.”

“That’s not a no. Honestly, and you didn’t hear it from me,” Midnight leaned in conspiratorially, ignoring the way the erasure hero rolled his eyes, “I think saying the word ‘club’ one more time is gonna be Shota’s last straw to kick the bucket. If he was a duke's daughter in 16th century England he would rather be burned at the stake than attend a tea party. If he was a famous author he would rather post his official signature online and risk identity fraud than host a book signing event. If he was a clown in a traveling carnival he-"

“My specialties lie elsewhere,” Aizawa stated simply, shutting down his coworker before she could elaborate on whatever disturbing fate multiverse-clown-Aizawa would impose on himself rather than honk his nose every once in a while. 

But it was true. 

A person would only have to observe Aizawa in his line of work for a day to figure out what his finely tuned skill set was. A skill set that includes, but is not limited to:

1. Logical ruses, designed specifically to give his students the side effects of a concussion, but without the physical head trauma. Usually, at least.
2. Interrogation through intimidation, because Tsukauchi’s quirk only works if he can get the criminal to talk. Or in this case, get a brief glimpse at Satan's reincarnation and become a devout Christian thereafter. 
3. Scaring people in general. There’s a strong chance that this is unintentional, but so far the theory is unconfirmed due to unreliable sources who refused to comply by claiming “Shou-chan’s a ray of sunshine!”, “Wait, why are you asking me this?”, and “Do you usually gather references for your teacher’s character?”.
4. Sleeping with his eyes open, yet convincing most people that he was wide awake the entire time and was intensely staring them down on purpose, which actually goes hand in hand with the whole scaring people thing. 
5. And of course,

“Like slandering UA. Luckily.” Aizawa said, standing up with a subtle wince to pull up a chair, “Because that’s essentially the key part for section 3…. 3.a?” Izuku nodded chipperly. “Yeah, section 3.a of this plan.” 

Honestly, for someone who studied here, taught here, and is on the pathway to eventually running the place (not that he thinks his teacher realizes that yet. Or at least agrees to acknowledge it.), he seems like he’d be the first to try and burn it down. But then again, it usually works out in everyone’s favor, much to the man’s dismay. 

“In order to get the clubs back, we’d basically have to find a better argument to overrule the original one given to shut down the clubs in the first place. Either that or discredit the source, which is UA.” Aizawa-sensei slid over a slip of paper, where a drafted copy of the article they prepared in advance was printed on, “And by saying that UA was incompetent for maintaining the ban on clubs even though it had unintended consequences for general education students by harming their current and future school careers, we’d essentially be doing both. Besides, it’s really not all that hard to get certain people to give quotes on the injustice they felt back in their teenage years as gen ed kids in hero schools.”

“Interesting, are they your intrusive drinking buddies?” Izuku retrieved his notebook back from the woman to sketch another tally mark on the last page, officially marking Midnight’s 23rd alcohol reference in the last two weeks. 

“Intrusive coffee buddies, but it’s nice knowing that was your go-to.”

“In any case, I can definitely see this working.” Midnight admitted, holding the paper up for a closer look, “With the rise of different social media platforms, more kids are definitely getting their eyes opened to the injustices of the education system like you mentioned. And if there’s a problem with the target audience not including childless adults or the older generations who don’t have to worry about things like these, all you’d have to do is mention the economy and they’ll be on their knees.

“From what you said about Hizashi and Majima, I assume it’s been over 10 years since the extracurricular ban, and in that time was that economic depression scare of 21XX, caused by thousands of adults within the ages of 18-28 not having the skills and credentials to get essential office jobs. This led to the protests you mentioned earlier. And everyone knows that'll happen again if the school board doesn’t start encouraging practical career paths and college preparedness. This would probably get those people behind the cause.” Aizawa perked up slightly in his seat after Midnight’s speech.

“That scare occurred right after the heroes’ reputation and average annual income was at its peak, too, so that’s extra ammo right there.” He said, a dark gleam of excitement flitting through his eyes at the prospect of slandering some heroes too. Sometimes Izuku thinks he forgets his own occupation.

“Exactly. Point is, you’ll get your clubs back if you drop some hints of this to a few parents and influential people first before Nezu.” Midnight at the both of them with quirked lips, “But if that’s really all there was to it, I have no doubt you guys would have figured that out already. Not to mention you already drafted an article, collected sources, and went over your plan 30 minutes ago. So,” She propped her head upon her hand, “Where do I come in?”

Right, Izuku forgot their plans can never be simple. But then again, he does like the overly complex plans he gets to make these days. He flipped to a page in his notebook.

“After I got the timeline of when the clubs were canceled, I asked Mic-sensei how many clubs existed back in his 3rd year and which ones he could remember because I assume he had an active role in school social life back then,” Izuku said, trying not to let the blatant jealousy leak through. 

“He did.” Midnight and Aizawa-sensei said at the same time. Midnight saying it as an off-handed observation and Aizawa-sensei saying it like it continuously messed up his everyday life. 

“And he gave me a list that was... lengthy, to say the list. Including theatre.” That got another groan in the room, “But while the numerous clubs at UA must have been great, it’s ultimately inefficient for the plan. Even after getting extracurriculars back, it’d still be a sore spot for the school, since they would have to be criticized first. And I don’t think the school board would be eager to allocate us a generous budget after that fiasco. Therefore, the number of clubs we’d be able to start back up again would be limited by that money.”

“Oh, that can easily be-” Midnight cut herself off after she saw Aizawa-sensei silently shaking his head. Izuku continued. 

“The clubs would be limited by other things too. For example, some of the more dangerous clubs would require an adult chaperone working overtime. It’d be paid overtime since a good portion of the club’s budget would go to the adult, but still. It’s not as if the entire staff would be thrilled to spend their free time with a bunch of teenagers, even if they do get a little cash.” 

The green-haired boy couldn’t even be offended at the way both the teachers nodded in agreement at his statement.

“So what you’re saying is, you guys need to choose which clubs from Hizashi’s list can stay and which have to be eliminated, as well as convince certain teachers to give their time to the clubs? Well, that’s still not so bad-” Midnight once again caught sight of Aizawa shaking his head, and while she looked as if she was about to laugh at him for being dramatic, all traces of amusement left when she saw Izuku pinching his nose and doing the same thing. 

“About that… there’s still one more minor-”

“Major,” Aizawa-sensei interjected.

“- major-minor problem with accomplishing that. According to the alumni I called, when UA first got rid of clubs, there was unsurprisingly a good amount of backlash from students who were against the ban. Said students tried to keep the clubs alive for a little while despite the new rules, but after their money ran out and a few of them got sent to detention, they eventually died down. Or, at least,  most  of them did.” 

People seem to forget that UA is filled with students that have an unnatural amount of willpower, and will go through scarily intense ways of carrying out that determination. 

“Not everyone was willing to roll over and accept the ban, so of course, some students decided to continue clubs on the down-low.” Izuku continued, “They obviously had a hard time functioning without any money and avoiding the watchful eyes of teachers, but they existed. Anyway, the students who were in charge of those secret clubs eventually passed the torch to the next batch of club members, who then did the same to every new class of incoming students. And now, over a decade later… those members are still up and running. And not just for three or four clubs, but for almost as many as Mic-sensei’s listed.”

“I forgot to ask earlier, but how’d you find out about the secret clubs in the first place?” Aizawa-sensei asks him, slowly recovering from his breakdown. 

“I had to quote a lot of ‘ Pride and Prejudice ’ to some girl in the business course to gain entry for one of her meetings. I actually have an initiation ceremony scheduled next week if we can’t pull this off,” Izuku mutters with a shudder before raising his voice again. “In any case, a lot of clubs won’t be happy when they find out only a fraction of them will be getting support while the others are left struggling. That’ll make choosing which clubs can stay a lot more dangerous, and teachers won’t want to take the risk.”

“Jeez, that sucks.” The purple-haired woman sighed out, biting her nails. It was only when she realized the two were still staring at her that she remembered what she had asked for in the first place, “...You still haven’t told me how I’m involved in all this.”

“Well,” Izuku started quietly, looking to Aizawa-sensei for moral support and getting nothing,  goddamnit , “Since I’ve never been in a club my entire life, and Aizawa-sensei might kick the bucket if he has to do anything remotely social…” He drifted off, not finishing the sentence. But he didn’t need to.

“No.” She stated bluntly, “I don’t see why you two would need to do anything social in the first place. Draw up a list of pros and cons for clubs, sign up some teachers, distribute the money and schedules, and  don’t tell anybody . You can do all of that anonymously within the next couple of hours without even leaving your seats.”

“We already planned on doing most of that, but it’s kind of too late for secrecy,” Izuku said quietly, Midnight gave him a pained expression. 

“Why’s that?”

“I forgot to mention I wasn’t exactly subtle with my extracurricular investigation during all of those student surveys and phone ca- Don’t give me that look, everyone knows how loud my speeches get.” Aizawa-sensei kept shaking his head. “Anyway, word spreads fast in the underground club network. All of them know. But at least they’ll let us in without patting us down for weapons.”

“So no one is safe.” The woman said wearily, staring out into the distance.

“No one is safe, and all of our lives are in danger of Shakespeare tragedy fanatics turning fiction into reality.  Unless, ” Aizawa-sensei brought out a wrinkled note from his pocket- Jesus christ how many papers are shoved in there?- and slid it over to the center of the desk, “We can convince all the clubs on this list that we’re putting more thought into this decision, and that we’re giving all of them an equal chance to get their shit together and make it official. That way, if they don’t make the cut, the responsibility falls on them, and they won’t feel the need to attack the clubs who do.”

“And that’s where the social part comes in?” She asked. 

“Well, we considered having all of them send in a detailed report of their club, but ultimately we decided it was way too easy to lie on a piece of paper. We need to make sure that only the clubs that won’t anger the public stick around, and that the ones that do stick around are given changes to function normally. And the best way to do that is through personally examining each of them.” Aizawa-sensei was about to continue but Izuku cut him off.

“In other words-”

“Problem child.”

“-I guess you could say that we’re-”

“ Problem child. ”

“-conducting several-”

“I hate this fucking class.”

“-Interviews.” The green-eyed boy finished with a smile so wide even Aizawa-sensei was guilted into not  completely  raining on his parade. “We’d still be the ones doing the actual interviewing for the club members, so you won’t have to spend too much time there. We’d just need you in a few hours when it comes to convincing a few of the staff!”

“Why me and not- I don’t know, Thirteen?” The R-rated hero asked. 

“You’re good with people, you helped convince most of the teachers last time to agree with the changes to the entrance exam, and you’re also the only other person whose lunch break lines up with section 4.c of the plan.” Midnight was obviously disappointed her attempt at gaining flattery had failed but it looked like that emotion was overpowered by the realization that Izuku had already set up the meetings in advance. He got the same look from Aizawa-sensei when he told him earlier, too, as well as a muttered comment of ‘Nezu’. He doesn’t really understand but he doesn’t think his homeroom teacher wants him to, either. “You’re our only option.”

“Do you know how much pressure I feel being the only option?”

“ Yes.”  Aizawa hissed, and Midnight had the decency to look at least a little bit sheepish, but she still wasn’t fully convinced.

“I don’t know guys, I gotta get to a date with-”

“We’ll let you slander the Mount Lady fan club.” 

“I’m in.”

UA has always had high standards.

Their written entrance exam consists of 114 questions on grammar, literature, and math with the curriculum of 2 grades ahead, not to mention the essay on whatever convoluted topic Nezu spits out that year. And that’s only if the kid is aiming for business or gen ed, otherwise, they’d be one out of the many 9th graders having to build a killing machine for the support course or  fight  a killing machine for the hero course.

Their requirements for transferring weren’t any easier, speaking from experience. And when Shota thinks back to the rules of acing all core subjects and winning the sports festival, he thinks their only goal was to prevent transferring. And if the transfer did end up working, the fail-safe was obviously the borderline torture of hero training. But he really has no complaints about that last one, so props to the school board.

In the end, all of these high standards were made to keep up their reputation as an elite school and keep their record spotless. Their official one, at least. Which it is, so guesses all their efforts paid off. And their clubs are no exception.

If the extracurriculars here were simply about having fun then they wouldn’t need to do these checks in the first place. They could have just thrown money at all the rebellious members and prayed they knew how to manage it themselves, which is what he would have preferred to do instead of actually talking to them. But by UA’s needs, they all collectively have to fit certain extensive criteria. And by their own needs, actually helping gen ed in the process.

Luckily for them, he actually does have some semblance of an idea for how to live up to that.

“Our main supporters for bringing these clubs back are the same people who supported middle schools and high schools giving their students more guidance towards practical jobs outside of hero work,” Shota said, dodging speeding teenagers and 20-pound backpacks as he followed Midoriya’s map through UA. “Meaning that having clubs that contribute to that cause should be our priority.”

“Like catering to the customer?”

“Exactly. Clubs that stem from actual subjects in school- math, science, history, literature- should make up the majority of the ones we pick since they can help students decide what they want to do in the future.”

“So we’re focusing on what the universities and workforce would be looking for, as well as the protesters,” Midoriya noted, halting for a second while squinting at the blueprints before taking a sharp left down a hallway with slightly fewer windows and people.

“Like two customers at once. After that, there are clubs for actual hobbies. They should make up the second-largest amount.” Because contrary to popular belief, Shota does believe children should have normal high school experiences in hopes that they don’t need a therapist in ten years to work out all their repressed emotions, “And after  that  comes clubs for charity work. There won’t be as many of them, but it’s still a necessity. Helps the world become a better place, gives kids volunteer hours they need to shove on a college resume-”

“Or for court-ordered community service!” So their students are ex-felons now, too?

“-Interesting observation but yes-, and it caters to UA’s public relations. It’s a complete win.” The underground hero finished.

He stands by his opinion that all that matters is the work getting done, but that doesn’t make it any less disappointing to know that people will always have ulterior motives for helping out, whether or not they intend to. And judging by the kid’s furrowed eyebrows, he felt the brief sting of reality, too.

He also stands by his opinion that this area of the school is way darker than the one they were in just a minute ago-  where even are they?

“Besides that,” Shota wordlessly held out his hand as Midoriya passed him the map so he could pull the notebook out of his bag, '“How’s the budget coming along?”

“Since Hyun Gong deals with budget requests, and that’ll soon apply to clubs and their expenses too, she already estimated the money the school board would let us take out. They may not be ecstatic about the anonymous article that’ll end up on the internet by the end of today, but-

“God forbid they’re cheap.” Shota finished as a bush of green hair shook up and down with a nod.

“So with the costs for advertising, fundraiser startups, possibly uniforms, transportation, food, event registration fees for trips-” UA’s an overachiever, these guys will need to bring back awards from competitions or at least go on a few meaningful adventures, “and then multiplied by 40 give or take, it’ll be well into the millions. It’s not the best, but it could be worse; 40 is already a small amount compared to most well-funded high schools. Plus, if anyone on the school board argues I can just multiply the number by 70 instead and let their wills crumble until they agree.” Midoriya ended with wide eyes tinged with madness and vibrating like he wanted to do an evil cackle.

It’s moments like these where Shota thinks his student’s cutthroat tendencies have gotten more intense.

“Make it 80.”

So it must mean his lessons are finally getting through to them.

“Right!”

The both of them finally reached their destination just as Midoriya finished jotting down that last note, coming to a standstill in front of a blue door that reeked of antiseptic and- he promises he’s being serious- death. So it’s either a club for aspiring funeral home employees or the improv club, either way, he’ll be burning it to the ground with no mercy.

“They steal money for funds, they’re out. They engage in other illegal activities, they’re out. They’re stupid and offer no value whatsoever, they’re out. They have a good idea but just their way of pulling it off was stupid, they’re not out, but we do need to change them. And make sure to analyze more than just their words for any signs of these, we can’t have anyone putting on a ruse to slip by.” The erasure hero reminded him.

“Got it!” Midoriya shot out a thumbs up towards him but then lowered it a couple inches, “But how will we get answers out of them for the other information we need if they’re still lying or refuse to talk to us in general due to grudges? Good cop bad cop again or a different one?” Huh, he hadn’t thought that one through yet.

“I’m not 100% sure, since the only one I've used on teenagers was threatening to expel them and that usually does the trick.” The green-haired kid nodded at his words, having personally experienced it 10x more than the rest of his classmates, except for maybe Bakugo. “But if we can’t expel all of them, then… I guess we’ll just have to use every technique there is until we find one that works best.” The kid got an excited glint in his eye.

“Intimidation marathon?”

“As long as you don’t mention it around the Greek Mythology club.”

Shota kicked open the door.

The odor of disinfectant only got stronger when he and his teacher got inside, but it was hard to tell what the source was given how their view was immediately obstructed by a blue curtain.

In an area of about 36 square feet was what looked like a makeshift waiting room. There were five vinyl chairs lined up against the wall on the left, a poster with the instructions for CPR on the right, and a shabby vending machine with no snacks and an ‘out of order’ sign taped to the front. Izuku didn’t think it was ever in order. But at least this place had great customer service.

“What’s the name of this club?” Izuku asked, the white stick poking out of his mouth bouncing with every word. People always told him he had a habit of shoving sweet things in his mouth too easily, even when he was a toddler, but how could he  not  accept the cherry-flavored lollipop that was handed to him as soon as they walked in?

It’s the same question he wanted to ask Aizawa-sensei, who had already shoved the lemon flavored one in his pocket, most likely never to be seen again. It’s like the man doesn’t eat.

“The Aspiring Medical Professionals Club.” Enmei, who he assumed to be either the receptionist or the leader, informed them.

“And what do you do here?” Aizawa-sensei asked.

“We meet on Tuesdays, and every three or so weeks we like to have discussion circles. It’s where one person prepares a slideshow on a topic and then presents it to the group. The order of who presents is rotation, but we don’t force anyone to do it if they’d prefer to just send everyone a copy instead.”

It was an aspect of this club Izuku could genuinely admire, letting kids choose for themselves whether or not they’d like to practice public speaking. It was an option he wishes he’d had back in Aldera, maybe then he could have actually held back his tears after getting spitballed 30 times during his presentation on the exciting American era of the roaring ’20s.

It was depressingly ironic.

“Right, well, for now, you can just tell us some of the highlights,” His teacher said. Enmei’s mouth opened, “And then we’ll ask the creators of said presentations for a copy of their slideshow later.” Enmei’s mouth stayed open.  Huh, well would you look at that . Both the secretary and vice-principal were pleased with the revelation that the kid wouldn’t be lying to them any time soon.

“Kazuya once did a presentation on medical ethics in different countries, like their abortion laws and respect for bodily autonomy. Last week I explained the process of organ transplants. And just recently Ren finished up his lecture on the qualifications for blood donors.”

“Then what do you guys do when you’re not having presentations?” Izuku asked, already mentally ticking off this club as a keeper.

“Oh! We practice being medical professionals.”  Hmm?

“I was under the impression there were different types of doctors specializing in different areas.” The erasure hero said after a moment of silence, brows furrowed while he tried to dissect the club leader’s statement. Izuku could relate. Enmei nodded. “Then how could you all practice your respective fields in one place?

“Divide and conquer,'“ Enmei backed up a few steps before grabbing a hold of the blue curtain, yanking it aside and revealing a transformed classroom of bustling kids and chaos. There were office chairs, desks, what looked like a mini kitchen, filing cabinets, and jars filled with sharp metal tools that he did not want to know the name of or why they were there in the first place.

The room was like a scene ripped straight out of a biker gang movie. Except instead of leather jackets there were lab coats, instead of sunglasses there were protective goggles, and instead of spiked baseball bats there were-Is that a blowtorch?

Okay fine, it was completely different. But if Izuku had to say one thing they had in common, it would be the turf war between gangs these students were so obviously caught up in with each other. And the blood. Dear God, he hopes it’s fake.

“Who is that small child and why does he have a hammer?” Aizawa-sensei asked, his facial expression not shocked but twitching like it so desperately wanted to be.

“That’s Makoto! New guy, a little inexperienced-”

“You’re all supposed to be inexperienced.”

“-but really nice. He’s using the hammer to test reflexes, wants to be a family physician.” Izuku’s face morphed into one of horror,  those poor children.  Enmei must have realized that the pair didn’t look as enthusiastic about all this as he was because he started to elaborate. “Obviously not all of us would want to be the same kind of doctor, so I figured it’d be more efficient if we grouped up depending on what we wanted to focus on and did our own thing in our own spaces. And if someone wanted to change from being a physician to say- I don’t know, an oncologist-”

“Isn’t that for cancer?” Aizawa breathed out.

“-then they’d be welcomed with open arms!” Half the people in this room are glaring at the other half, that statement is blatantly false.

“Makoto is in the family physician group, right?” The green-haired hero student asked, getting another nod from Enmei, “Then… then what are the other groups?”

“Glad you asked!” The club leader pulled out a clipboard from one of the desk drawers and started walking around the room, and the heroics teacher and his student took that as a sign to follow him, “As I said earlier, we have physicians in the far left corner. They like to practice doing checkups on each other and studying different variations of flu vaccines. We have ophthalmologists on the opposite side of the room, but they’re on thin ice lately due to their habit of breaking people’s glasses so they can’t remember their prescription and are forced to get it checked by them. Then we have dermatologists-”

“How could they practice dermatology?” Aizawa cut in

“None of us are actually that sure, but so far they’ve decided on testing out different skincare products, learning about the ingredients, and tracking all their results. But from what I’ve heard, I think they’re gonna start developing their own test product now. The brands they’ve used up to this point include Clinique, The Ordinary, and Fresh, and I think next week they’re going to use Herogena.” Izuku paused at his words.

“Do you mean Neutrogena?” He asked.

“No, I mean Herogena. It’s Mount Lady’s new brand.”

They’ve really gotta stop taking pre-existing products and switching out a few letters to add in ‘hero’.

Last year Izuku was convinced that a billion-dollar streaming website had been randomly shut down only to find out that they changed their name to ‘HeroTube’ in honor of All Might’s debut anniversary and then never changed it back. It’s a dedication that he can admire as a fanboy, but it’s also something he wanted to kill them for since typing ‘YouTube’ was now a useless muscle memory. It’s why he still can’t bring himself to call it anything but YouTube in his head.

A few months ago when Shoji was trying to google the location of the nearest burger king so the rest of the class wouldn’t starve after hardcore training, they ended up stranded for thirty minutes until they realized the fast-food chain was now called ‘Burger Hero’.

And just last night when he and Shinsou were busy sending weird BuzzFeed links to each other instead of sleeping, the most recently published article was something about sick patients magically being healed after taking a pill that was later revealed to be a, and he quotes, ‘pla-hero’.

Placebo. They meant placebo.

He didn’t even think it was legally allowed to change the name of a medical concept.

“Then on the right side-” Enmei continued, snapping him out of his train of thought, “-we have the podiatrists. There’s not much they can do besides studying anatomy without physically breaking someone’s ankles these days, so they mostly hang around basketball courts and gymnastic studios. Kind of just waiting for disaster to strike. Then we have psychiatrists by the couch for obvious reasons, rheumatologists right behind them, plastic surgeons by the sink-”

“I may have spoken too soon,” Aizawa-sensei muttered, “How do they practice plastic surgery?”

“Your response is very important,” Izuku added right after, pulling out his phone in case he needed to call the actual ER for whatever poor, insecure kid they dragged into being their fake patient.

“Ah, not to worry! We can’t afford any chisels or pliers yet,” Is that the only thing holding them back? “So for now they draw lines on people’s faces and deconstruct American Girl Dolls. They’ve also been known to cause a lot of trouble, though, most of their patients end up lying down on the psychiatrist couch for about half an hour after their appointment. It’s heartbreaking, but what can you do?” The erasure hero stared long and hard at Enmei.

“You could shut it dow-”

“Anyway, where was I? Oh right! After that, we have geneticists by the bookcase, pulmonologists by the windows, pharmacists-”

Izuku did a sharp intake of breath, realizing it was his turn to cut Enmei off, but not being able to physically get the words out. Luckily for him, his teacher had the same idea.

“What do the aspiring pharmacists d- No. Better yet, where do they get their medications?”

Enmei’s eyes looked between the two of them as he finally started to realize that this meeting wasn’t going the way he planned, and maybe the two of them weren’t so willing to let him start a club with people who own ‘fake’ blood, wait for athletes to break their legs, or use hammers to break their legs for them. Finally, he spoke.

“…There’s a nursing home four blocks from here with really bad security.”

Aizawa did a long inhale, staring up at the ceiling as if asking for guidance from a god that clearly does not like him very much, and then exhaling before looking back down to speak to Enmei. Or maybe looking past Enmei to speak to Satan. Because if the big guy won’t give him advice he might as well try his luck with the other side.

“UA has drug dealers.” His teacher said slowly.

“W-wait! Wait!” Enmei exclaimed, as if this conversation was still salvageable, “Everything we got there was over-the-counter medications! Pain relievers, laxatives, vitamins, cough drops- uh, cold medicines! All perfectly legal!”

Huh, maybe this was salvageable.

“I see. UA has thieves, then.”

But barely.

“…Are you gonna shut us down?” Enmei asked at last, and Izuku thinks it was the pure fear in his voice that made the erasure hero realize he was talking to a kid. A heavily misguided one, but one that just wanted to start an innocent club and got a little messed up along the way while trying to organize it in a way that kept everyone happy.

In the place of an answer, Aizawa-sensei turned to Izuku, and the green-eyed boy remembered what his teacher had told him before they came in.

Even if the club’s way of pulling it off was stupid- which in this case it obviously was-, if their idea still had some potential, they don’t have to fully shut it down. They just have to change it.

He guesses what he’s saying is that now is the perfect time for the start of the intimidation marathon.

“No.” Izuku said at last, getting an approving nod from Aizawa-sensei that made his chest swell and a sigh of relief from Enmei, “Your club stems from one of the school’s core subjects, science, and your goal is to encourage students to major in their respective interests, get their degree, and have a career in the medical field. The  well-paying  medical field. It’s productive, clearly educational, a parents' dream for their child, and it’s gold on a college resume. It’s a perfect fit… in theory.”

The club leader opened his mouth, probably to ask what he meant by those last two words, but Aizawa-sensei cut him off before he could.

“However, all of you have also colossally screwed up, so changes will need to be made.” His teacher snapped and Izuku flipped a page, ready to take notes. “For starters, you’re going to take that blocking hammer away from Makoto and give it back to Power Loader, don’t think I didn’t see that ‘property of UA’ sticker on the handle.”

“Then get an actual reflex hammer!” Izuku added cheerfully.

“And you can continue to study and practice the harmless aspects of check-ups, but so help me god if I see any of you step within three feet of a needle I’m torching the place.” Enmei almost laughs, but the look on Aizawa’s face makes him stop. He’s completely serious. “The same goes for all the rest of your concerningly sharp tools in here. After that, tell the ophthalmologists to stop breaking people’s glasses, tell the dermatologists to put a pin in their skincare development project because as far as I’m concerned that’s equally as dangerous-”

“Props for looking into the ingredients, though!”

“-Tell everyone to stop falsely diagnosing people-  especially the psychologists- , put all the medications you stole in a box and have them on my desk by the end of the day, and Jesus christ leave those poor basketball players and gymnasts alone. No more stalker field trips, it’s disturbing.”

“And on the bright side,” Izuku cut in with a smile, “there are still plenty of other learning opportunities! UA was purposefully built in an area near multiple medical centers and hospitals, so it’ll be easy arranging for you guys to engage in volunteer activities, get guest speakers that specialize in the areas you’re all interested in, and shadow some actual doctors during their work hours.”

“However, there will be a week probation period even after you guys become official and get a budget allocated to you. You did steal from a nursing home, after all, it’s gonna be a hassle apologizing to those old people. Or getting them to understand you in general. But besides that, good job.” Aizawa-sensei finished, shocking himself with that last statement.

Enmei looked like had just experienced a stroke after processing too many major changes at once, but once he got the gist of it and realized his club won’t be taken away, and that the pair knew he had tried his best with the leadership role, he seemed pretty satisfied.

“That’s cool, it’s deserved anyway. And it’s probably a good thing that we won’t be practicing in a classroom anymore, some of the groups here seemed especially unfit,” Enmei said offhandedly, oblivious to the way the vice principal and secretary slightly hesitated in the act of preparing to leave.

“…Which one?” Aizawa-sensei asked.

“Hmm? Oh, the hematologist group.” Hema… isn’t that for blood? “Although I guess it can’t really be called a group if it’s just one person.” Enmei stepped to the side and silently gestured towards a boy sitting alone in the back.

He had black hair, brown eyes, was of average height, and had no special accessories on him besides the standard UA uniform for general education kids. He looked plain, somehow even plainer than Izuku, but he had a feeling it was intentional on the boy’s part. The only thing that wasn’t normal about him was the way he was completely absorbed in the vial of blood in front of him, smiling and… blushing?

“Said his name was Torio. I think he’s new here since I haven’t seen him around school outside of this club. We tried making small talk with him, but all he ever wants to do is stare at vials of fake blood, doesn’t even present anything.” Enmei said quietly before smiling, “But who knows, he might appreciate the chance to volunteer at blood drives.”

Izuku and his teacher stayed silent for a few seconds before nodding and showing themselves out after a final goodbye. Torio hadn’t done anything wrong, after all, he was just passionate about his future career. And really, what was the harm in that?

~~~~~

“What’s the title of your newspaper, again?” Aizawa-sensei asked Kiyoshi.

“The Daily UA.”

“And yours?” He asked, turning to face the girl right next to Kiyoshi, Chiyoko.

“UA Daily News.”

“Right, I think I’m just a little confused on what exactly the  difference  is.” All the newspaper club members immediately rise from their seats in an uproar at the underground hero’s words, “Are any of you actually saying anything? Because I’m convinced you’ve all just been yelling gibberish for the last five minutes to make it seem like you have legitimate arguments.” The uproar immediately died down and he sighed, “Fine, god, starting from the left to the right, everybody state your surname and newspaper title then give a brief summary of what it’s about.”

A pink and blue-haired girl on the far left stood up, looking more than a little pissed at Izuku’s teacher but conforming with the rules nonetheless.

“Yukino, editor of The UA Tribune. We look into the actions and backgrounds of staff members for any signs of corruption and expose them accordingly.” Well, at least now the glare makes sense.

“Interesting. Have you found anything yet?” Aizawa-sensei asked, catching Yukino off guard.

“Well… no, not anything with hardcore evidence. But don’t get too comfortable! We have some solid leads!”

“I see. Such as?” One might have assumed that Aizawa was either mocking Yukino or simply humoring her without actually expecting anything, but Izuku could tell he was dead serious. He looked a little hopeful, too, now that he thinks about it.

The green-eyed boy shot his teacher a ‘really?’ look that he knows he saw and promptly got ignored. Damnit.

“You- I don't have to explain myself to you!” Yukino shot back, which Izuku thinks was code for she has no leads whatsoever.

It was a little disappointing, honestly, especially since it wasn’t that hard to realize how shady all of UA’s staff members were if you paid close attention.

Izuku’s 50% sure their janitor and the guy who sells weed in the alley across the street are one and the same. An awful lot of cars in the parking lot started having their parts go missing and judging by how nervous Power Loader-sensei looks whenever another one gets reported, he’s probably the one behind it. Vlad might be the least shady of them all but if anything that just makes him more suspicious. Midnight still has her mini bar stashed away in her bottom desk drawer.

Or at least she used to. Izuku’s not gonna pretend like he didn’t walk in on Aizawa and Thirteen replacing the vodka with vinegar and water, not that Midnight seems to be aware of the change.

And he hasn’t even touched on all the questionable things Aizawa himself has done.

“Hm, suppose you’re right.” His teacher said with a sigh bordering on disappointment, “Next.” A kid with yellow wings stood up this time. He also looked pissed, but Izuku had the feeling he was pissed at everything. Maybe even himself.

“Haru, I’m one of the writers for The UA Review. My team and I each focus on a different topic and choose something specific within it to write a review on once a week.” Haru turned a little to start pointing at people in the crowd, “Last week she wrote a review on ‘ Moonlight ’, he did a piece on ‘ Pride and Prejudice’,  he did  ‘Frankly in Love’ -”

“Aren’t those both books, and both in the romance genre?” Izuku asked, “Or do you also split the topics up by the periods they were published in?”

“Yeah, we figured it’d be a little unwise of us to judge books written in the 19th century by the same standards we use for books written only fifty-something years ago.” That’s a nice touch, “Then she wrote an article on Michelangelo’s work on the Sistine Chapel, and I did one on Lunch Rush’s fish.” Aizawa-sensei looked up at that, a crease working its way between his eyebrows.

“What do you have against Lunch Rush’s fish?” The man asked.

“I’m not a big fan of seafood,” Haru responded as the crease grew even deeper.

“Then why did you eat it?”

“Because I’m a professional. And if I didn’t eat it, then I would never know how  salty it is- ”

“Of course it’s  salty  it’s fish. He soaks it in miso before grilling it.”

“Well if that’s gonna be the finished product then maybe he shouldn’t.” At the end of his sentence uproar rose up amongst the students again, this time with actual things to argue about. The most common ones were ‘Don’t eat seafood if you’re gonna be biased!’, ‘Keep miso’s name out of your mouth!’, ‘Leave Lunch Rush alone!’, and ‘He’s trying his best!’. Aizawa-sensei and Izuku nodding along the whole time. “Are you guys seriously turning against me right now? What happened to  loyalty-' “

“Next!” Izuku called out to cut him off. A short boy with green fins on his back stood up.

“Uhhh, Isamu. I manage the layout for the UA Exhibition. We take student-made creative writing pieces, artwork, and poems submissions and display them on the pages next to their name and class. Although in next week’s edition we were planning on getting some orchestra kids to submit their original compositions.”

“Huh. Nice.” His teacher said, looking a little surprised that for once he couldn’t find any problems with it. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that the world was thrown off its axis in those few seconds. “Next.”

“I’m Kiyoshi! Like I said earlier, I’m the chief editor of The Daily-”

“Next,” Aizawa-sensei said immediately and the next kid rose, looking like the girl version of Kiyoshi.

“Chiyoko. Chief editor of UA Daily News. We also give announcements, weather reports, and talk about current events. But unlike The Daily UA, we don’t  sugarcoat it .” Kiyoshi rolled his eyes as he slumped down in his chair. “Far too many tragedies have taken place here and I must bring them justice!”

“What tragedies?” Izuku asked, not looking comfortable with the possibility of people getting hurt without anyone noticing.

“My friend broke her ankle doing gymnastics, there’s been a cold outbreak in that nearby elementary school, a woman slipped on ice and now needs emergency medical attention,  New York is drowning-”

“You mean old lady Yuuka?” Chiyoko nodded at Aizawa-sensei’s words, “I saw her get dragged away on the gurney- Were you the kids that wouldn’t turn your flashes off?” Chiyoko didn’t nod. Didn’t breathe, either. “You- Forget it. So you guys are like The Daily UA except sad.”

“Not true!”

“Name one more difference.”

“We have word search!”

“Yeah, word search.” Izuku cut in, not looking up as he flipped through copies of Chiyoko’s newspaper from the past four weeks, “I was filling them out while you were speaking and so far the most common words are: Liar, traitor, two-timer, AIDS, help, and something I don’t think I can say out loud.” Was the person making these okay?

Izuku circled the word and slid it over the desk to his homeroom teacher. He watched black-eyes silently read it, then read it again, then go blank in a way Izuku can only guess means that he’s reached his limit of bullshit for today.

“I’ve seen enough. UA Exhibition and The UA Review, you can stay. The Daily UA and UA Daily News, you can also stay, but you’re going to have to merge. And for christ’s sake do a normal word search for once.”

“But you can’t just do that!” Yukino yelled, shooting up as her chair clattered to the floor. Several students voiced their agreements, mostly the ones who hadn’t had the chance to speak yet.

“Why not?”

“You don’t even know what the rest of the newspapers are about!”

“We do, actually. I read copies in advance, I just wanted to hear it from your own mouths in case I was missing anything. And yeah, I agree.”

There was one called The UA Star who chose one person per week to uncontrollably worship, which would have been nice if they didn’t choose another person to uncontrollably hate.

There was another one called The UA Examiner, which tested out UA’s equipment. Chairs, desks, doors, windows- This girl had no limits, and she was probably the cause behind a lot of the mysterious property damage in UA. The vending machine in the medical club’s room included. He guessed this school owed Mei an apology.

Then the remaining eight newspapers were called The UA Gazette, 24 Hour UA, UA Journal, UA Union, UA Republic- You get the point. The gist of all of them was mainly the same thing, them basically being The Daily UA and UA Daily News except  less .

And since printers, printer ink, paper, and the vintage cameras that these guys insisted on using all costed money, having 12 unnecessary newspapers was a waste of time and resources.

So yeah, the ones Aizawa picked were perfectly fine by him and probably the rest of society, too. But judging by the arguing of the club members, they wouldn’t settle down any time soon. And it was around the time someone yelled ‘THINK ABOUT YUUKA!’ that Aizawa-sensei decided to put the matter to rest once and for all.

“Fine. Choose amongst yourselves which 3 newspapers can stay.”

“15!” Yukino yelled

“3.”

“14!”

“In what scenario do you see me getting anywhere near 10?”

“YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE,” Izuku screamed, and luckily, it worked. Huh, he should use that ‘running out of time’ technique more often. Finally, after a bit of discussion between the members, Chiyoko stood up as their representative.

“UA Exhibition, The UA Review, and… yeah. Kiyoko and I will merge.”

Aizawa-sensei slammed his head down.

~~~~~

Izuku rocked back and forth on his feet, trying not to let the awkwardness of the situation show on his face while he waited for the club members to… get in formation? It was impossible to tell by the way they were huddling in a circle and hanging their heads low but high enough to be visible.

They weren’t wearing costumes exactly, more like clothing that wanted to be a costume but couldn’t decide what it was a costume of. It was just multiple possible characters mixed together and then made  bad . And they all had smiles on their faces that were a cross between goofy and psychotic.

It scared the living shit out of him.

But perhaps the only thing scarier than the club members’ expressions was Aizawa-sensei’s expression. He was standing motionlessly at Izuku’s right and staring down the sailor/pirate/assassin hybrid costume kid like he wanted to kill him slowly and painfully. Probably because he looked to be the leader. Finally, his teacher spoke.

“You guys are the improv club?” The sailor/pirate/assassin kid raised his head.

“Yes. Or I guess I should say, yes  and- ”

“You’re out.”

~~~~~

“Here at the environmental club, our primary goal is to give students easy and accessible ways to help improve the area they’re living in with a series of small actions contributing to a bigger project,” Kazuki said soothingly, leading the pair through what can best be described as a mini forest. Even Aizawa-sensei had to duck down a few times to avoid getting a leaf to his already irritated eye.

“Have any examples?” The green-haired boy asked him, voice slightly cracking at the end as he jumped over a tree stump. Did they replace the tiles with dirt or something?

“This school already has recycling bins in every room, but it’s inevitable for some of them to dispose of their plastic in the wrong section. Therefore, during lunch and for a couple hours after school we like to take the time to sort through the bins and place any stray plastic where it belongs.

“We also like to have beach cleaning sessions, protest against sensitive environments having construction done on their land, and host bottle/can drives with the public using prizes as incentives.” Kazuki finished, reaching for a spray can full of water to use on the vines.

“What kind of prizes?” Aizawa-sensei asked.

“Gift cards from local businesses, movie tickets, occasionally services done by our own members like tennis lessons or car washing, and free copies of books from upcoming authors in our area.”

“And how do you pay for those?” He followed up, expecting the worst.

So far, the clubs they’ve visited didn’t have the most ideal ways of buying their supplies.

The film club made DVDs containing shitty remakes of movies they produced, then put them in containers with the picture of the actual movie they copied on the front, and then sold them at a ‘discount’. Which was illegal. The creative writing club sold fanfiction, which was also illegal. And then the medical professionals club didn’t even bother trying to buy anything, they just took it. And that was, you guessed it, illegal.

So many laws were broken in a single day and yet they still haven’t fulfilled their promise of shutting down every club that engaged in illicit activities. He thinks Aizawa-sensei is finally going soft.

“Well, the business owners and small-time authors mostly see it as free advertising, especially if there hasn’t been much traffic lately, so they’re happy to contribute to our cause. The same goes for our members who offer services based on their skills or use money out of their own pockets to buy the tickets. But besides that, we make money by selling the food we grew at the local farmer’s market uptown.”

The vice-principal and secretary both stopped walking, leaving Kazuki to her own unbothered devices as she prayed flowers and helped her fellow members draw colorful posters at the same time.

“It’s perfect,” Izuku whispered and Aizawa-sensei nodded because  it was.  And for once it wasn’t against the law!

It was a charity for a good cause, gave students volunteer hours, helped struggling small businesses and authors get back on their feet, and was entirely self-sufficient to the point where they might not even need a big budget.

And not only that, but they  gardened. 

He thinks he’s got stars in his eyes.

“Usually I’d say it’s too good to be true and how it’s suspicious how much I trust the club members with my life right now, but this might actually be the epitome of selflessness.” His teacher muttered before frowning, “Then again, this might be the calm before the-” He was cut off by an alarm on Izuku’s phone going off in the form of ABBA’s Dancing Queen.

“What’s that for?”

“…Algebra 2.” The freckled boy responded with a pitiful look. His teacher sighed.

“There’s the storm.”

“This is like the newspaper club except worse,” Shota observed out loud, ignoring the way the members of the magazine club were right in front of him. Midoriya was possibly 90% of his attitude filter, with the remaining 10% being his will to pull through social activities to help gen ed students.

But Midoriya was gone- undoubtedly due to Nezu’s purposefully horrible schedule making- and visiting the improv club made him regret ever waking up. So the magazine club will have to deal with it.

“We’re nothing like the newspaper club!” One of the girls called out, the rest of them voicing their agreements like a flock of sheep. It made him wonder why these children kept having uproars, what happened to classic teenage awkwardness? A different girl stood up, making him even more exhausted for what was about to come.

“Unlike the newspaper club, who feels the need to be pretentious in their writing by using words you’d have to google to understand,” As far as Shota is concerned, the most complicated word they used was AIDS. And if they can’t understand that then maybe he was right about these students needing a more thorough health curriculum, “We deliver information in the rawest form known to man.”

“Is the rawest form known to man neon colors, low-quality photoshop, and excessive use of exclamation points?”

“And also unlike newspaper club! We actually write stuff the people want to read.”

Shota won’t try to argue with her first statement, because he really couldn’t care less about any of the newspaper topics except for maybe whatever happens to old lady Yuuka, but that didn’t mean he cared about the topics of their magazines either. Still, he has to try and show at least a little bit of interest.

“Got it. And what do you write?” He had only just finished asking his question when a random boy ran up and dropped a stack of their work on the table he was sitting at, barely missing Shota’s hand. Damnit.

“When we first started the club we had a lot of ideas,” The girl continued as the underground hero began spreading out the magazines in front of him, “Like artwork, fashion, music, and movies. But once the newspaper club was doing the same thing-  after  us, by the way- we realized we had to find a new topic to focus on. Then we found a new source for material about three weeks ago, and since then it’s never been that hard to write interesting articles with quality pictures along with it.”

Shota hasn’t actually read inside of the magazines yet, but just looking at the cover pages he can already tell they have a very different definition of what quality means.

There was a poorly edited picture of Ibara with devil horns that was probably supposed to play off irony. There was a picture of what he thinks was himself but since whoever the photographer was couldn't get a clear shot it was just his back seconds before he turned the corner. There was a photo of Hound Dog shaking Vlad’s hand but once again the photographer must really not know how to use a camera because while the two heroes were blurred in the background the lens was focusing on the trashcan to the left of them. And then there was just a grainy picture of grilled fish with the caption ‘COCAINE?’ in bold, bright red letters.

It was after he read that one that he figured he should go back and read the rest of the headlines, too. But then he started to notice something.

‘ THE DEKU OBSESSION: ARE BAKUGO KATSUKI AND TOGA HIMIKO RELATED?’  with a photo of Bakugo giving the camera a dirty look.

‘ WHAT IS Y/N AND WHY DOES BAKUGO KATSUKI REFUSE TO SPEAK ON IT?’  also with a picture of Bakugo, except angrier, three feet closer, and reaching for the camera. What is this, Insidious?

‘ INGENIUM SEEN LEAVING UA’s SUPPORT COURSE CLASSROOM WITH A MYSTERIOUS PACKAGE’  with a photo of Tensei rolling out the door with an excited smile and nothing but a thin black line to block out his eyes. What was the purpose of censorship at this point?

‘ HAWKS TEACHES HIS SON TO RIDE A BIKE, OR TO FLY?’  with a picture of Tokoyami having a broken leg on a hospital bed and Hawks looking more than a little apologetic. Shota narrowed his eyes,  the hell has that bird been doing on his student’s work-study?

‘MUJI’s WORST NIGHTMARE: A MIDORIYA IZUKU BREAKDOWN’  with the problem child tripping over a chair. Maybe it’s a good thing the kid isn’t here to see this.

‘ PRESENT MIC: A SECRET STRIPPER?’  They arent that off, but that’s one hell of a way to finish off the stack.

The general bizarreness of the titles and the amazingly timed photographs aside, there was one thing that all of these headlines had in common: They all had their own page in Todoroki’s notebook. And that could only mean one of two things.

1. Todoroki was the new magazine club leader, and he has somehow convinced the rest of the members to go along with his conspiracy theories in the most unorthodox way possible.
2. Todoroki did not approve of the club using his theories for their content and was possibly being held against his will in one of this room’s many recycling bins.

Shota was leaning more towards the second option since he clearly remembers Todoroki stating that he would never share his ideas with anyone besides the actual subject of them. And no matter how much that kid might love theories, he wasn’t one to lie.

A loud crash from the back of the classroom grabbed everyone’s attention, both the erasure hero and the club members staring in silence as Todoroki stumbled after smashing out of a storage closet.

His hands were tied together in front of him by a rope with a weak knot, and there was a piece of scotch tape hanging off the side of his mouth which Shota can only assume was a poor attempt at gagging a  hero student,  but besides that, he looked as blank and unbothered as usual. Three awkward seconds later, the heterochromatic-eyed boy spoke.

“They have taken my notebook hostage.”

Shota nodded and stood up to help untie the knot, patting the kid’s head before escorting him out with the promise of returning his notebook soon. Finally, he turned back to the club members who were suddenly very interested in the recycling bins.

“You’re out. And suspended.”

~~~~~

 “You know how every three hours there’s always one kid who won’t shut up about how algebra is useless and maybe they’d actually pay attention if schools taught them how to do their taxes and other useful things?” The lanky third-year asked, with matted black hair and an aura that screamed he was fed up with everything.

“Yes.”

“Yeah, well, I got really annoyed, so that’s what we teach here. Taxes. And college applications. And job applications. And retirement plans. And savings in general. Among other things. I call it the Practical Skills Club.”

“To help students?”

“To shut them up.”

“I like it.”

~~~~~

Shota stood silently in the back of the room as he watched the book club engage in their usual activities in their natural habitat.

While their actions were certainly strange, and they were still strange even with context, they could easily be explained by the large poster hanging on the door that said ‘Greek Week’. What couldn’t be explained, however, was why this was basically a crossover episode of different clubs when all he had expected we children sitting in circles and reading.

There were book club members signing whatever forms the members of the sewing club gave them as they took in box after box filled with robes and chitons. As well as signing forms the sculpting club members gave them while they handed over mini statues.

There were kids actually wearing the robes and chitons, cheering on the kids dressed as soldiers as they battled with (hopefully) fake swords. Not to mention they were also cheering on the wooden horse that the members of the architecture club had just rolled in, and sobbing on behalf of the boy with an arrow glued to his heel.  The Iliad , Shota assumed. And this was only one of the many reenactments of Greek epics and plays that this club had going on.

In one corner there were people setting up a row of axes, also known as the budget version of  The Odyssey.  In another corner, there was a girl ripping up a drawing of two little boys while her co-star fell to his knees screaming, which had to be the budget version of  Madea . And then in the very back of the room, there was a boy ripping up a piece of paper titled 'adulterous mother’ while three students wearing bat wings on their back danced around him, so the budget version of  The Oresteia.

There were definitely more than that, but after one boy yelled ‘YOU’RE MY MOTHER?!’, Shota figured he should stop playing his little guessing game and get on with it. He also figured that based on how they were acting, they hadn’t realized he had already walked in. Or at least not all of them did.

There was one girl about to his left who had paused in the action of throwing a stick into a flaming trashcan, now just staring at the underground hero with pure shock in her eyes. And after a little while of prolonged eye contact that he very much did not enjoy, she broke the silence.

“So are we out, or…?”

A good question, indeed.

As he sees it, he’d be doing the world a favor by destroying all evidence of this club’s recreation of questionable plays, but they did have an awful lot going for them.

They were educational but in a way that got everyone engaged, they went beyond just reading and discussing, they had  themed  weeks, and he’s pretty sure they saved a ton of money by getting their props from some of the other clubs. Not to mention this was also very entertaining, and things were getting suspiciously bland around here.

“You can stay, just please never act out  Oedipus Rex  ever again” The girl’s shoulders slumped with relief as she nodded, “And tell the sewing, architecture, and sculpting club they can stay, too.”

What can he say, he loved himself a good statue.

Lost in thought, Shota walked through the twists and turns of the school’s hallways to find the teacher’s lounge, or at the very least any sign of life. Regardless of how much infighting these clubs fell victim to, he couldn’t deny that there had to be at least one meeting they all attended where they unanimously decided to host their activities in the darkest fucking depths of this school.

Still, being suffocated in the shadow realm was a small price to pay for bringing clubs back.

The article they made hasn’t been posted online yet, so it’ll take a few days before public backlash starts kicking in and they can swoop in like vultures with the demand of bringing clubs back, but once the dust has settled there’s no doubt in his mind that life for gen ed kids will get just a little bit easier. No longer will they suffer at the hands of costume-clad 16-year-olds and the paparazzi, something like that.

And that’s good. Because even though he never considered joining clubs back in gen ed, he can’t deny that it probably would have helped in some way if he had. An activity that wasn’t connected to school, or to hero training, or to Nezu- Just something selfish for once.

Of course, he has that now, in the form of two idiots and a shitload of problem children, but what about the students? What about  his  students? Once they’ve peaked in life and have already accomplished all their career goals, what happens after that? It’s something they’ll need to find the answer to before it’s too late, and while he’ll obviously be there to help them, there’s only so much he can do before they have to do it on their own.

But on a less depressing note, he will never have to go back down to UA’s basement to visit the video games club ever again. Why? Because he shut them down and he did it with a smile on his face. A good thing, too, because if he didn’t shut them down he’d have to deal with some middle-aged mother yelling at him about how her son is rotting his brain on technology.

In addition to that, he also shut down improv for obvious reasons, magazine club for also obvious reasons,  matchmaking club  for even more obvious reasons, Mount Lady’s fan club because a deal is a deal, and literary club because it was a book club but only for Little House on the Praire which, you know, odd choice- and more. But not to worry, because he kept a lot more clubs than he destroyed. Which is also very odd.

For core subjects, they kept newspapers, foreign languages, astronomy, creative writing, marine biology, ancient civilizations, engineering, debate team, and law.

The last one was a pain, though, since they felt the need to hold trial simulations, too. Problem child looked like he was having a swell time acting as the prosecutor, so Shota can probably expect the kid to join that club once it goes official, but what he doesn’t understand is why they chose him as the murder victim as soon as he walked in.

He would have kept robotics too but the afterschool sessions Majima was already in charge of were basically the same thing, and all he needed to do was occasionally sign them up for competitions.

For hobbies, they kept practical skills, chess, architecture, mythology, film, cooking, choir, theatre (don’t look at him like that it was a necessary evil), screenwriting, photography, sewing, and cartooning club.

Originally it was a cooking club  and  baking club, but due to kitchenware expenses, they were forcefully merged after a heated debate. A heated debate that was given unwanted ‘help’ from the actual debate club. All they did was make the arguments worse and weirdly personal.

As for charities, they kept environmental club, breast cancer awareness, soup kitchen volunteering, and endangered species rescuing club, which he felt solved his Koda problem at the same time. So yay him.

One thing he hadn’t taken into account, though, was sports. Volleyball, soccer, basketball, competitive cheerleading, swimming- Everything he despised.

He had nothing against the athletes themselves, or even the game, he just hated how fucking loud everyone gets when someone scores a point. Their earth-shattering claps still ring in his ears at night. So it’s obvious that he was a little hesitant to include them.

He was also hesitant because if the public finds out that UA was going to start competing with other schools in sports, it’d just turn into another televised event. He can only imagine the shit show it’ll turn into if Ketsubutsu or Shiketsu starts doing the same thing.

But the students who were in support of it didn’t seem that perturbed, so he figured there was no harm in starting small with just the five sports he mentioned and letting the school take it from there. After all, it was another way apart from gym class and literal hero work that the students here could get active.

However, things couldn’t just end there. The ones he didn’t list- Medical professionals club, book club, sculpting, and math team- were accepted, but unfortunately all too dangerous to be left without adult supervision. And yes, that includes book club and math team. Because people would be surprised to see just how intense math team’s parties- sorry, raves get after they ace an exam, and now that he thinks about it, he isn’t sure if the swords were fake.

And that’s why they would each be requiring a chaperone. But luckily, that’s not his job, that’s Nemuri’s. Which is why he’s been sending her the names of all the dangerous clubs in advance, and why as soon as he made it back to the lounge she yanked him down in the second chair at Shota’s desk.

The desk that had a box filled with cough drops, laxatives, pain relievers, and vitamins.  Pfft .

“How’d it go with the clubs?" Nemuri whispered, ducking behind her computer screen as if it would stop people from seeing and hearing her.

“Well, we owe the local nursing home a lot of money, today may have counted as a drug bust, I stopped a kid from getting their knee bashed in with a hammer, Todoroki got held hostage and now people think Zashi’s a stripper,” Nemuri made an ‘ehhh’ sound and Shota nodded. As he said earlier, it wasn’t a complete lie, “-we also owe that lady who slipped on that ice an apology-”

“Old lady Yuuka?” She cut in, and Shota began to wonder why everyone knew this woman.

“That’s the one.”

“She didn’t slip on ice, the ice just happened to be there. She got shoved down a flight of stairs by a grad student.”

“ Why? ”

“Yuuka slept with her boyfriend.”

“Isn’t she 67?”

“A shame, really, struck down in her prime.” She sighed with a solemn look. What the fuck was wrong with his friends?

“Anyway, how’s it going with the staff?” Shota asked to get them back on track. Nemuri smirked, which was never a good sign.

“Perfect. Cementoss said he’d chaperone the math team so long as they gave him unlimited food privileges on Pi day where they serve actual pie, Snipe offered to make sure the book club kids don’t stab or shoot each other any time soon, probably because he was so charmed by my feminine wiles-” He thinks Snipe just didn’t want children getting sent to the ER. Also, who says feminine wiles? “- and I’ll be taking over sculpting club.”

“Didn’t you say you hated spending your free time with teenagers?” She rolled her eyes at his words like she wasn’t gagging at the idea just a few hours ago.

“That was before they begged me to be their model, I figured I should throw them a bone.” Nemuri sighed, but it was obvious it was the highlight of her week, “Pitiful children, really.”

Sculpting club those fucking geniuses.

“But what about the medical professionals club? Did you get anyone to sign up for that?” He asked, and Nemuri gave an actual sigh this time.

“Thirteen and that new ice pack nurse almost volunteered, but they both got pretty put off once I told them they’d be dealing with reformed criminals- Even reformed is a stretch, it was a few hours ago, for christ’s sake.” Maybe he shouldn’t tell her that technically the majority of these kids were barely reformed criminals, “So excluding the people who are already chaperoning or busy during those hours, that leaves you-”

“No.”

“Vlad-”

“No.”

“All Might-”

“He coughs blood too often, I don’t trust he’ll be safe around that hematologist kid.”

“Yamada-”

“You know he hates old people, he’d probably encourage them to keep up their thievery.”

“And Nezu.” The underground hero paused at the name, forgetting the rat was a legitimate option this entire time.

Being the multitasker he was, Nezu could schedule field trips and guest speakers for the club with no trouble at all. And since he’s also a walking encyclopedia, he could teach the kids a few things himself while overseeing their individual progress in their chosen fields.

Besides, having that terrifying creature of a principal watching over their backs 24/7 would prevent them from breaking any more rules, and it seemed like a suitable punishment for robbing nursing homes.

“Oh my god, he’s perfect.” Nemuri nodded at his words.

“That’s the same thing Midoriya said when I told him a little while ago,”  Hmm?

“Midoriya dropped by?” He asked and she nodded, “Shouldn’t he have been in Chemistry with the rest of 2-a by now?”

“Well, yeah, but Ectoplasm gave them early dismissal after Sero caused an explosion of a toxic chemical. Immediate evacuation and all that. So they have a free 45 minutes before the end-of-the-day homeroom. By the way, Yamada and I were wondering why Midoriya is excused from English and quirk law these days, did Nezu tell you anything?” While he probably should have been a little more concerned about his coworkers catching on, there was a more pressing matter clouding his mind. Shota checked the clock on the wall.

“Homeroom doesn’t start for another 10 minutes, so where’s Midoriya now?”

It’s not that he expects his kid to be on secretary duty during every free period he gets, because that’s unrealistic and goes against his values as a teacher who will literally do anything for some time off work, but these are interviews he's talking about. If there’s one thing he can count on, it’s that the problem child will drop everything and come running with a clipboard at the first sign of one.

“Well he was here looking for you about half an hour ago, something about interviews? But he left as soon as I told him the same thing I told you about the perfect chaperone for the medical professionals club being Ne…”

Nemuri trailed off, her casual facial expression morphing into one of unbridled horror. She whipped around to tell him something but she never got the chance, Shota was already out of his seat and sprinting towards the rat’s office down the hall.

Not wasting any time when he got there, he grabbed ahold of the door handle and twisted, barging into the office and immediately being assaulted by the strong smell of black coffee with an outrageous amount of sugar in it.

Midoriya’s favorite.

“Aizawa-san! How nice of you to join us,” Nezu chirped, stirring his own coffee as he sat down at his desk. And right across from him, the problem child himself, rocking his entire body back and forth in his chair with a gigantic grin on his face.

“Hi, Aizawa-sensei!” Midoriya greeted, still rocking back and forth but twirling his chair around to wave his hands around like a mad man. He was either high off caffeine and sugar or he just received great news, either way, Shota doesn’t trust it, but he still did a small wave.

“Midoriya was just telling me about how you still need another supervisor for one of your clubs, the medical professionals club if I recall correctly. I wasn’t aware extracurriculars would be coming back to UA, what a nostalgic surprise!” Well, he was gonna find out eventually. Might as well happen after they’ve already chosen their clubs.

“And?”

“I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to brush up on my medical degree skills and help students in the process, so I accepted!” Shota breathed out a sigh of relief, one he would immediately take back at the rat’s next words. “On one condition, of course.”

It was at that moment Shota noticed the five extra notebooks sitting in front of Midoriya along with a new stack of mechanical pencils that he knows for a fact he hadn’t given him. And that, combined with Nezu’s chippier-than-usual tone and the gigantic smile on his kid’s face, could only mean one thing.

“Personal lessons with me every Tuesday and Thursday!”

They were fucked.

Chapter Text

Shota is very in touch with his emotions, actually. Despite what his friends, classmates, and Hound Dog have said.

He doesn’t keep a mood journal or attend group therapy sessions of cry along to indie singers- Not that he’s mocking them, he can tell it’s effective, almost too effective, just not for him- but he did attend a single semester of health class when he was 16. So, he counts that as a master’s degree in comparison to everyone who’s incapable of using protection.

And one of the first things he learned in health class through lectures, flashcards, tests, and videos narrated by condescendingly satisfied people were coping mechanisms. Denial, reaction formation, displacement, fill in the rest. Basically, if you’re not crying, you’re coping. Unless you consider crying another form of coping, then he guesses you’re stuck there forever.

But Shota knows what happened. He’s perfectly aware of every poorly timed decision that led up to this situation and so far he hasn’t forced his students to recite a pledge to Nezu, he hasn’t spontaneously taken up knitting, and he hasn’t lashed out at the closest coworker. So as far as he’s concerned, he’s not suppressing any feelings.

Therefore, no. He’s not mad at Midoriya. Obviously.

Because what reason would he have to be miffed at the kid when this is so clearly all Nezu’s fault? The rat probably pulled some disturbing plots like he always does to get the kid as his own student. He may have threatened to expel him, or take over all his social media accounts and turn them into Death Arms fan pages, or ruin his hero career before it’s even started by spreading the rumor that he’s in cahoots with the Commission resistance- which he’s done before.

Seriously, Shota has sat in his office and watched him call agency after agency expressing his sincere concerns that Mr. Metalloid is misusing the access his hero ID grants him to the building to merge himself with locked steel doors and shift in and out of off-limit rooms. The guy’s agency issued a press release stating that he’s retired to Florida and that was the last time he and Zashi ever shouldered the blame for whatever dumb prank Oboro pulled.

But would his student really get scared into submission from something like that? He doesnt think he would, no one in his class would.

The last time they got threatened with expulsion four of them let the message go in one ear and come out the other as there’s a second hand clothing store down the block so why don’t you pick out a few eyesore outfits and chase down Mr. Big Bad who’s got a kill count in the thousands. If rumors spread that they were in any resistance, they might take that as directions to go join one.

And beyond that, Midoriya is Midoriya.

Only-

Shota checked the clock outside the room.

His eyes are complete shit. He cannot see what that says.

He pulled out his phone.

Only 18 hours after Nezu’s threat, Midoriya would have come up with a way around it and then mumbled his plans so loud that All Might would overhear and actually save him from his tragic fate of failure. And yes, failure, because he has a lot of faith in the kid but you can’t defeat something that’s beyond human comprehension.

And since Shota hasn't heard the mumblings of any despicable plans yet, he can safely conclude that nothing like that went down. So if Midoriya’s motivator for accepting the offer wasn’t fear, then it was probably the quest for knowledge.

Except it wasn’t, because seriously, what could a kid (who just by holding a single conversation with him you could tell has had nothing but unwanted free time over the last decade) possibly learn from Nezu? Something that he isn’t scheduled to learn with the rest of the class in due time, already knew it advance, or is currently learning on the side right now. The remaining list is unsurprisingly small.

Javascript, welding in his spare time with Hatsume, color theory so Nemuri won’t blow a fuse over the theater sets not being perfect, even broken Indonesian for every extra minute he spends around the deca-lingual Yaoyorozu. Not to menton the binder of lesson outlines that Shota has planned for the next five months that Midoriya has definitely been targeting ever since he caught a glimpse of it three weeks ago. He’s learned it all, or is scheming to, hence the need for the binder’s own encrypted safe, and he can probably pull off that scheme without Nezu’s help.

So what else is there? Murder? Technically, Shota did provide him a comprehensive if not brief knife throwing class, although not intending to assist in that department even if it did have all the correct components. And if the kid was that distraught over Aoyama’s scream cutting the mini lesson short then he could have said something. Not that it would’ve changed anything, Shota’s still on thin ice with class 1-A’s parents due to both the Kamino disaster and his overall personality, and he doubts a stab wound would help, but still. Doesn’t hurt to rue shit.

But regardless of how he and the other teachers may humor themselves, or gather round to toy with the idea of framing a kid for some random crime just to get some time away from them, they know Midoriya doesn’t actually want to kill people, that’s absurd. Any misconceptions that he does is the fault of his relentless curiosity and accidentally browsing with the school email. It’s opposite of what Midoriya wants and the majority of what Nezu “indirectly” teaches.

If Midoriya wants to save people, then he should ask advice from an actual pro hero. Which, by the way, is his entire curriculum. And if not heroes, then heroes in training, like his classmates.

Then again, his students may know how to rescue people but they aren’t exactly the most educated when it comes to actually treating injuries. Their strong suit is mainly beating up villains so they can prevent the people from getting hurt in the first place, which obviously doesn’t have a 100% success rate.

Like last week when that exhange student started choking on his soba, and since Sato couldn’t assault the sushi itself, he resorted to aiming a sugar fueled punch at the boy’s stomach. The food did come flying out, so he guesses it was effective, but it was still so, so stupid. Plus it put Shouta on thin ice with the parents of kids who weren’t even his students.

In that case, Midoriya should go to people who do know how to deal with wounds, people like Recovery Girl. Or the nurse with the ice pack quirk. Or perhaps one of the other countless nurse practitioners that he literally helped hire. As in conducted-the-interviews-and-physically-pointed-at-his-final-choices-and-brought-them-all-donuts-on-their-first-day helped hire.

Although, he can see why the kid maybe wouldn’t want to go to them for help after recent events.

And he doesn’t mean that the nurses refused to help him. No, that issue has long since been resolved after a couple of vindictive staring contests between Shota and an old lady that made every student avoid a certain corridor for a few days.

Recent events being that both of them conveniently forgot that the speed of which Recovery Girl draws her spheres of influence could almost put Nezu to shame. Within a few days all of the nurses had gone on what can essentially be dumbed down to a half-assed moral strike. They had signs and chants but with words written in almost transparent pencil and lyrics that had no apparent rhyme, beat, or even basic synchronization. He’s not objecting to strikes in general, he’s objecting to the complete lack of effort. It’s people like them who give strikes a bad name.

They announced to the crowd of students gathered in the courtyard that although they would gladly heal whoever required their assistance, they would not accompany the hero students on all their missions. It was above their pay grade and literally not what they went to med school for. It was simple. And with the way he’s phrasing this it probably sounds like he disagrees with their decision, he doesn’t.

He just found it weird that something so obvious needed to be stated, or at least that’s what he thought before Sero and Kaminari started texting panicked reassurances to each other, the exhange student and that scary mushroom girl following soon after.

So, yeah, he guesses Recovery Girl and her new band of minions aren’t exactly up for the position of a medical mentor. And he also guesses that he should stop naming examples if he knows he’s going to contradict them immediately after.

Point is, if the kids wanna save lives, then they shouldn’t rely on slimy rats and instead start from the basics, like first aid. So that’s what they’re doing today, something that Shota hopes will… not show the kid the light at the end of Nezu’s dark tunnel, per say, that doesn’t really exist, but provide a band-aid for when that light inevitably tries to burn him alive.

“First aid.”

Shota took a moment to let the others digest his words before breaking his gaze and bringing the rim of his coffee cup to his lips.

“What about it?” Nemuri asked. Shota lowered the coffee.

“That’s the plan.” He brought it back up.

“Isn’t that a little spontaneous of you?” He put the cup back down on the table. Midoriya raised his head from where it was stuffed between the pages of his notebook, large eyes moving between his two teachers while they silently squabbled.

“How so?”

“Well,” Nemuri quickly retracted her legs from where they were sprawled out on his desk, sitting up straight to give the facade of an actual professional. “Why jump straight to first aid when there are so many other things we could be working on? Right?” She turned to Midoriya, the boy flashing a questioning look his way when he didn’t know how to respond.

“Uhhh yeah, yeah! The list was developed early on- like really early, like last year-” Shota nodded, although in a lot of his coworker’s cases it was 15 years.

If someone checked the filing cabinets with complains dating back all the way to his first year at UA, they’d find passionately inscribed notes about how only selling Ma- Sorry, Might Bars as candy in the vending machines was monopolistic. Technically they still can’t do anything about that if they want the chocolate bar company to continue their donations, but nothing can’t stop them from being peeved.

“-but it’s not set in stone, the whole point is to add as we go. And since three people sprained their ankle yesterday and thought the best solution was to shake it off, this feels like an appropriate time to do some medical training… I think. But in a hypothetical situation where that wasn’t a time-sensitive problem, yes.”

Midoriya may have some more things to learn if he thinks that alone will satiate the beast. The message Like what? slithered across Nemuri’s eyes in neon lights and the boy coughed.

“There’s getting construction plans approved for those two new elevators. Or handling the potential partnership with that clothing brand that offered to give major discounts on school uniform manufacturing if the hero students would promote their shoes.”

At least the email infiltrating lessons from Hatsume are clearly paying off, and with any luck Midoriya can improve in time to avoid being given a masterclass by Nezu. Vaguely, Shota recognizes hacking emails is bad and he should say something about it. But less vaguely, he thinks about how much he doesn’t care. The boy’s eyes grew distant.

“Or releasing the wifi password that the business students started hogging,” He continued. “Or fixing the broken air conditioners on the third floor. There’s also corrupt sales manager of the Clip Mart across the street that refused to keep selling students any more of their clear post-its even though I’m— we’re obviously their most loyal customer, since apparently he—“ The kid made quotation marks with his fingers, lowering his voice to mimic the owner, “‘could make a bigger profit if we’d stop buying all his stock in bulk the moment it gets delivered.’ And he ’doesn’t know how we keep finding the delivery schedule but it ends now.’ So we have to buy the other post-its instead—blue ones. Like we need any more statement pieces. Which is crazy because how can you even read the letters-”

Midoriya cut himself off with a sharp inhale as the chair he was sitting in was pushed by a black combat boot, leaving him spinning around in silence and right out the office doors. Ectoplasm shut them behind him.

“And much more!” Nemuri’s hands flew in front of her, waving around like she was concocting a vision to him, “Like, let’s say, an art exhibit.”

“There’s one on the third floor.” Shota cut in.

“A theatre production!”

“Be more specific.”

“A theatre production on the dangers of an unknown forest!”

“They already tried that.”

“The dangers of strangers.”

“The strangers were actually in the forest."

“The dangers of cults.”

“Tried that, too. It didn’t last five minutes in the PTA meeting. Didn’t last five minutes in the forest, either, if I read the script correctly.” This one he was a little disappointed about. Whether it was because he thinks it’s a serious issue that many people should learn about, or because he wanted to take the opportunity to throw a paper ball at Nezu every time a person got tricked into ruining their life, is not something he is willing to disclose.

“The dangers of too loose clothing!”

“Why would we ever want to do that?” He asked quietly. “Who would even come to that? What is the target audience in all of your—”Clearly self-interested “-ideas?”

“A song and dance we perform to the whole school during a festival filled with haunted houses and treats.”

“We did that too—Were you here for anything last year? Genuinely, where were you?” Midnight held up a finger and Shota decided that perhaps the 15th straw should be the last. “We’re doing first aid. Not just because it’s obvious that first aid in a hero school should have been prioritized during their first year, or because I have anything against your theater productions-”

That’s a lie, he has everything against them. They make him stay an extra three hours late at this hellhole because he can’t do paperwork and make sure the tech crew kids don’t power saw their limbs off at the same time. He can’t walk through a hallway without finding splotches of blue paint on his clothes that don’t come off in the wash because of course they don’t. And every forty-five minutes one of the kids’ bad playlists resets and he has to go through the Hamilton soundtrack all over again. If he had a nickel for every time he’s considered using the costume crew’s measuring tape as a noose, he’d have enough money to buy them three more measuring tapes so they could stop trying to paint lines and numbers on his capture weapon whenever they lose theirs.

"—But because I can’t say for sure that if we don’t teach them now, while we still have the ability to gather them all in one place without internships and patrols getting in the way, they may never have the chance to learn it again.” Shota's eyes danced across the room, passing over every other teacher in the room, just obvious enough for Nemuri to catch his hidden message: Especially not from them.

Nemuri finally backed down, that was one thing she couldn’t argue with. Majima glanced up from his computer.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.” He turned back around to the whiteboard just as Midoriya rolled back in. Perfect timing. “Now, first aid.”

“My man,” Shouta let his head drop back to stare at the ceiling while Majima’s voice continued to cut through his brainstems. “You don’t need our approval to teach first-aid to your class, and I’m sure you already knew that since you use the UA employee handbook like Eri’s bedtime story—”

“Go to hell?”

“-so why did you gather us here?”

“Because it’s not just my class in the second year hero department, Majima,” Shota tried to tune out the sound of Vlad’s humming in agreement, all it did was make him doubt his position. “Vlad’s class needs this lesson just as much as mine does. As does Thirteen’s class and Ishiyama’s and Snipe’s—Letting one class learn something while the rest don’t get the chance to is just unhelpful. Not to mention very, very likely to cause internal issues with one another.”

Vlad stopped humming by this time, already silenced by the look on the Eraser hero’s face, but he nodded nonetheless. They might have issues with each other but they could at least agree that more tension between their classes was the last thing either of them needed, the aftermath of the USJ and sports festival being enough proof of that. As good of a hero-in-training that Monoma kid was, they didn’t need first-aid lessons adding more fuel to his already wildly insensitive fire.

And that’s ignoring Shinsou’s weird fight instigating tendencies for altercations that don’t even involve him.

They’re not amusing, they’re really not. He doesn’t know what about him suggests he believes otherwise to people.

“Hence why I need all of your approval before I go forward.” He concluded.

Technically, he didn’t actually need their approval. Screw Majima but he does read the UA employee handbook on a semi-regular basis, semi-regular turned regular during the course of last week’s events. He’s read it enough to know that vice principals here can make as many changes to the curriculum they want around here (Tyrannical, he’s aware. But what did he expect?) as long as The Rat signs off on it.

Which he will, on anything Shota brings to him, because it’s not the consequences that he cares about, it’s the entertainment of seeing how Shota is gonna have to fight those consequences off tooth and nail to get himself out of the PTA’s wrath unscathed. Which he won’t.

But technically he’d rather jump through flaming hoops getting the teachers themselves to sign off on the curriculum changes than have to find some natural, conversational way to bring up the fact that he was promoted to a position not a single one of them knew existed here, not even himself. He’d just assumed the “vice principal” position mentioned in the handbook was Nezu’s way of making it seem to the HPSC like his power was absolutely being checked and balanced at the school.

It wasn’t, in case that wasn’t clear. And it still isn’t, in case anything he’s ever said made someone think otherwise.

“But just because all I’m asking for is a go ahead that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to compromise,”

Shota tapped the dry erase marker he was holding against the surface behind him, geasturing to the whiteboard covered in arrows, circles, and distinctive chicken scratch handwriting on blue post—Oh, the kid was right, he can barely see the marks on those. Jesus, who would buy this shit? He could see Midoriya making the right? gesture from where he’d snuck in through the door in the back of the room, still in the rolling chair.

“I’m aware it’s not as simple as just rounding all the students up in one place and teaching them the same thing; you guys all had your own lesson plans that would eventually cover this subject, so all this might do is get in the way of that. But I really do think it’s necessary to teach them all at the same time, that way they can help each other through any confusion without our direct assistance.” Which is something they’ll need to do as adults during medical emergencies, too. “So if any of this doesn’t mesh well with what you guys had planned, feel free to—” Shouta ignored the sour taste in his mouth at letting these people run free. “—make some changes or offer alternatives. Anything…you feel is important.” And with that, he leaned back against the board, waiting for his coworkers to barrage him with suggestions.

He received silence.

“Really.” Shota stated again. He had already braced himself for this, had already told Midoriya to write it all down no matter how stupid it is, just to have it on record if he needs to defend any retaliatory actions of his, but there’s not much he can do if no one speaks up. “I’m open to anything.”

Thirteen scratched the screen of their helmet. Majima’s eyes drifted towards the door. Nemuri grinned.

“You have no plans at all.” He breathed out. Silence again. Shota placed the marker down and chose his next words carefully. “I can’t believe i’m asking this, but have any of you, at any point in time, ever told your students or at least heavily implied that you should shove something in the mouth of a person having a seizure so they don’t bite off their tongue?”

More silence. And then, a hand.

Shouta put the marker down.

“It’s not my fault, okay? I just—I’m not used to helping out with that kind of thing! And why should I be? Why should any of us be? We’re not doctors, we’re pro-heroes. Right? Kayama, am I—” The redhead turned to the sight of Nemuri rolling her chair a little farther away from him, eyes communicating that there were many times in which she would love to be associated with Majima, this very moment not being one of them. Majima turned back to Shota. "If anything, this is the commission’s fault.”

“No this is your fault, Majima, you are a grown man—” Nemuri slid a little further away.

“I’m a mechanic, Eraser. I build machines. So if it’s really necessary, my robots can do all my first-aid for me.”

“Can they teach for you, too?”

There weren’t many things Majima could say in defense to that. Or rather, anything he could say that would actually be true. And he could sense fifty more viscerating comments from Shota hurtling his way from a distance. But the one thing he was right about was that he was a mechanic, a mechanic who could build things pretty well. And while it’s clear that seizure assistance and teaching weren’t included in his machines’ skill sets, lifting an arm was.

Majima’s suit—recently upgraded—was pointing a figure before Shota could interrogate the excavation hero any further.

“Ectoplasm has never actually done first-aid on site.” Majima blurted. “He just stays with the person while a clone runs off screaming for help from an actual nurse.”

Shota’s gaze slowly drifted to the hero in question, face carefully impassive.

“What?”

“AT LEAST I’M DOING SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE.” Ectoplasm shouted, rolling his chair away from Majima as well. His bumped into Midoriya’s and sent the kid spinning again.

“You’re saying that this entire ti—”

Ectoplasm whipped his head to Ishiyama, marking the end of their book club.

“CEMENTOSS ISN’T ALLOWED NEAR INCAPACITATED VICTIMS ANYMORE BECAUSE EVERY TIME HE DOES CPR HE DOES EVEN MORE DAMAGE.”

"But Ishiyama doesn’t have hands," Shouta says, beginning to doubt the sincerity of this chain reaction of exposure. “How could he even attempt to…?”

He glanced at the man, just for the sound of grinding cement to fill the room as he looked away.

“Snipe’s been sued five separate times for reckless endangerment of a civilian because he doesn’t realize that emotional support is ineffective if there’s a gun pointing at their face the entire time.” The cement hero responded calmly, as if he’d just been waiting his turn. Snipe for his part just shrugged.

“Not much I can say to that. It’s becoming a real problem.”

“Many would say it already is.” Midoriya supplied thoughtfully.

“The first time it happened the girl just started confessing all her wrongdoings to me. Second time the guy ended up pulling out his own gun?”

“You emotionally supported the criminal.” Shota’s throat felt raw.

“It’s called rehabilitation, Eraser. And then the rest was actually on the same day. Family of three, three separate case filings—That one stung. Hurt my online presence a bit, too, I even considered going private for a second.”

“Have you ever considered just taking off the mask.” Snipe snorted at the not-question.

“That’d hurt my online presence even more.”

“What is the mask even doing for you, Snipe?” Shota asked, although knowing better than to expect an actual answer. “We know your identity, everyone knows your identity. All it’s done for you so far is have you banned from seven countries and kicked out of airports.”

“Am I crazy or did we…already attempt to teach them this?” Vlad interrupted. Shota stared at him while Thirteen rolled off to join Nemuri and Ectoplasm in their isolated corner. “Disaster training at the USJ, remember?”

“No, Kan, I’ve completely forgotten. Remind me.”

The blood hero’s hand fell back down to his lap.

“Personally, I think driving is more important.” Hound Dog yawned out from his spot by the espresso machine.

Shota’s stare went blank and before Midoriya could ask whether or not that counted as a legitimate suggestion to write down, his teacher’s capture weapon was looped around the back of his head to cover both his ears.

“Personally,” Shota started, “I think that I’ve already been seen unloading at least fifteen dummies from my trunk, and if I don’t demonstrate heart failure on them soon, who knows what story people will come up with to explain it. I think those dummies cost money coming directly from the school budget, and too many props that took too much time to develop have already been made for this. I think that first-aid is literally part of the curriculum. I think this has serious PR stakes that can and will cost all of you all of your jobs if a UA student is seen in the ER for choking on crab of all fucking things because the chunks were too large and not one trainee or teacher in the most prestigious hero school in Japan knew how to do the Heimlich maneuver without breaking a rib and puncturing a lung.”

“Must I bear this cross forever?!” Lunch Rush snapped.

“I think I’ve already roped too many people into this to go back now. I think your approval meant jackshit anyway for whether or not I go through with this plan, which I will.” Hizashi tilted his head. “Hound Dog, I think you’re only prioritizing driving lessons because you can’t commit the easiest crime of jaywalking without getting distracted by a squirrel and causing five different car accidents. And I think people will die if we don’t teach them this lesson.” Shota let the capture weapon leave his student’s ears and fall back around his shoulders. A beat of silence passed.

“Ughhhh,” Nemuri groaned, “is that your only reason?”

"It’s the only reason I need—"

The sound of a door creaking open cut them off, Sero’s face appearing on the other side and depicting utter bafflement at the scene before him before remembering what he came for.

“Kaminari’s in the nurse’s office… Kirishima said he burned himself this morning trying to make eggs, which would’ve been an easy fix if he hadn’t rubbed, uh, butter on the wound right after? He’s fine, I think, he’s in Recovery Girl’s room, but his wound’s infected now. So, yeah, just came to let you know… Bye.”

The office was engulfed in silence for a few moments after the boy left until Shota got out of his leaning position to make his way to Recovery Girl, nodding at Midoriya and leaving one last message.

“I hate all of you.”

And he was gone.

Midoriya waited till the door was fully shut behind him before pulling out a stack of permission slips from Shota’s desk drawer, holding out one of them to Vlad for him to read. But before 2-B’s homeroom teacher could take the paper from the student’s grasp, the boy tightened his grip and leaned in with a gleaming smile.

“Sign.”

“I wanna start off by saying that I think it’s incredible how much we’ve all been through in the last year and a half.”

There have been complications during his class’ previous attempts to participate in a shared lesson, that much is true. Like the time they tried forming a bridge with class 1-B only for blackwhip to start bursting out of Izuku’s skin in mid air, freaking the hell out of Shinsou. Which, yeah, was his fault, if not the fault of the silly little ghosts living in his subconscious.

“We went from naive, starry-eyed children with nothing more than a crude costume sketch and a dream to the more experienced hero students we are now.”

Or that time his class really did follow through on the shared lesson idea with the Ketsubutsu kids, which was going pretty well until Ms. Joke’s comments reached a new extreme and Aizawa-sensei left her hanging from the ceiling for eight hours into the night, daring any of them to help her down.

It got them banned for the next year and his teacher for life, much to Ms. Joke’s disappointment, not that the guy cared. Looked pretty ecstatic about it actually. Although he looked much less ecstatic when Ashido started throwing snotty paper tissues at him because now she couldn’t visit the best friend she had just made there.

Again, Izuku blames Ms. Joke, but in the eyes of the law that was technically Aizawa’s fault, who doesn’t exactly have any inner spirits he can blame his actions on. Unless Joke counted as an inner spirit. Hah! Yeah. The more Izuku talks about this the less qualified he thinks either of them are to proceed with this lesson.

“From the opening ceremony to the sports festival, from haunted houses and candy apples to a song and dance, we’ve spent some of the most crucial moments of our formative years together. And with that in mind, I think it’d be more accurate to call us family rather than just mere classmates.”

But what he’s trying to say is that even though they have a terrible history with these kinds of things, which may just boil down to inherent personality flaws rather than a victim of circumstance, Izuku firmly believes that this time will be different. Joke isn’t here, he’s pretty sure no more surprise quirks are awaiting him, and from whatever happened in the brief period of time that Izuku couldn’t see nor hear in the teacher’s lounge that led to none of the teachers making eye contact with each other- He thinks they’ve finally eliminated all stupid threats to this lesson.

And that’s rare, that’s good, this lesson is good. Not just for their education, but for their sanity, too.

Maybe this’ll finally be the day Monoma lays off, which in turn will be the day 2-B lays off, which might stop Shinsou from whispering to Bakugo that if it were him he wouldn’t let another class speak to him that way. And best of all, this could be the day class 2-A and 2-B finally, finally, learn the names of the kids in classes C, D, and E instead of acting like they’re the only two classes to exist.

“Take a look at what we’ve accomplished together during our time here, too. We’ve sought out internships, got our licenses, been through at least one work study- It’s a lot of things to take pride in. And one other thing we should take pride in?”

He doesn’t say that in an insulting way, it includes him, too, after all. It’s from a purely observational standpoint of a frankly incredible phenomenon that has occurred for just under two years: Never clearly seeing the faces of anyone else in this school beyond the same 40 people around him.

2-C, D, and E were all out on some field trip the day joint training took place, a flu spread between them during last year’s sports festival and prevented the rest of the world from seeing their faces either, then the same flu doubled back again during the school festival- That’s really the only reason Eri was able to get as many candy apples as she did. The consumer market was absolutely obliterated.

Anyway, like he said, it’s been a while since he got a good look at those classes’ faces. But he could see them pretty clearly right now, and jesus christ they looked angry

Probably because as good as a lesson as this is, he’s not sure Aizawa-sensei should be the one leading it.

“The fact that you haven’t killed anyone yet. Matter of fact, be proud that you somehow haven’t gotten yourselves killed yet either. Truly, it’s a wonder. I would have expected half of you to be floating face down in a lake by now or at least actively shoving someone’s head in a puddle as we sp—That’s a little harsh.”

His teacher hurled his empty coffee into the trash and walked out from his dark shadow in the fake city’s alley way, plucking the speaking notes- That he wrote, by the way- from his student’s hands on his way to the front of the crowd of teenagers. Aizawa-sensei paused for a moment to applaud him for his efforts.

“What was that?” He asked.

In his own little way.

Izuku deflated, “I thought if I added some heart in the beginning I could soften the blow.”

“You might’ve made things worse,” His teacher eyed the crushed souls of countless children, “Whenever authoritarian systems refer to themselves as a family it signals nothing good will happen, they must’ve sensed that.”

“I don’t think the family part is what did it.”

“Emotion is subjective.” He glided past Izuku into the front of the crowd.

Izuku didn’t need to be told twice. He was twenty feet away and back to the task list Aizawa-sensei gave him before the man even finished his sentence. He’d already duct taped over the mouths of dummies—Where even are they?—and fought off pigeons, and all that was left was to… Start pouring water on the ground?

He knows he told Aizawa-sensei that he wanted to learn with the other students this time, and just help out with a few menial things rather than get a bunch of cheat codes on the lesson, but this was just weird.

“You’ve all done good work this year, no one doubts that.” Aizawa-sensei began. “But when it comes to first aid you know nothing. And if you do know something, you know it wrong.”

“WE KNOW STUFF!” A kid yells—No, Masuda. Masuda from 2-D. Masuda from 2-D yells out. The erasure hero doesn’t so much as flinch.

“Someone gets stabbed and you’re the only one there. Do you take out the knife or not?”

Masuda sits down.

“Like I was saying- If you continue at this rate, you’ll get someone killed, okay? That’s just what’s gonna happen. And sure, it’s not completely your fault, if anything you can say it’s the fault of your school for not adding it to your curriculum last year. Or the fault of me and the rest of your teachers for not instructing you on it sooner regardless of that curriculum. Or, once again, the fault of your teachers for feeding you direct misinformation—“ Why was he so dead set on stoking flames of a protest? “And I guarantee you it’s in your best interest to assume that anything that has been taught to you during your time at UA about first aid at all is misinformation.”

“BOOOOO! GET HIM OFF THE STAGE!”

The formerly trashed coffee smacks the side of his teacher’s head. It didn’t seem like it caught him off guard, he very clearly saw it coming, he just didn’t stop it. But something like that was below his pay grade even before he became the vice principal. Do vice principals get a raise? Would Aizawa-sensei even notice?

Aizawa stares at Midnight-sensei until she, too, sits down.

“And you can point fingers all you want—really, it’s encouraged. Bring a guillotine and put us out of our misery.” Aizawa continues, muttering the last sentence. Jirou gives him a flat look. “Accountability is a valuable thing to have. But unfortunately, pointing fingers will get you nowhere when you’re on site and a civilian starts bleeding out. Therefore, it’s our hope that we can quickly and efficiently get through safety training and save the much needed blame game for another day. For all of your guys’ benefit.”

The students fidget, not quite sure what to do with themselves now that they weren’t being ruthlessly insulted. They’d expected a lot of things when Aizawa-sensei took charge of the lesson just now, but something… calm, wasn’t one of them. They didn’t even look angry anymore, just tranquilized.

Huh. Maybe Aizawa-sensei could be a morale uplifter.

All Might-sensei took the newfound serenity as his cue to move, straying from the crowd of heroics teachers to take the underground hero’s place at the front of the classes. And he’s just five steps away, his notecards- For a speech hopefully untainted by Aizawa’s controversial influence- already slid out from the mysterious latex pocket and ready to make the rest of the staff throw even more coffee when—

“But this isn’t just a lesson.” The Eraser hero says suddenly, pausing again for another moment as if he doesn’t quite know where he was going with that either, but it just had to get out.

Well, this is off script.

All Might takes a few hesitant steps back and Izuku stops dumping the water buckets.

“Lessons are great and all,” His homeroom teacher says next, finally finding his words. “But for something as high stakes as this, it’s important to see that those lessons have conse—Those lessons are not just textbook memorization and religious note taking. It’s imperative that you all apply what’s shown here in real life, and apply it without error. Therefore. Every lesson that is taught here today will also be a sort of… test.”

Of course.

“Performances will be heavily monitored and recorded, a scoring system will be kept in place—”

His eyes flick to the Izuku and flick back when he receives a thumbs up. Izuku’s got no complaints about score keeping, but he hopes Aizawa-sensei realizes that he was raised on the idea that free labor is permission for self-interested labor. What data goes in his notebook is private property for all intents and purposes once this lesson is over.

“-and there will be an established wall of shame.” His creativity seemed to pick up all of a sudden, now much more satisfied with his spontaneous lesson changed. And to think all it took was an added stress factor. “Small yes-no decisions can change the course of a life, after all, better not regret it.”

He’s got his goggles back on today, so it’d be impossible to tell, but Izuku’s got eight ghosts milling about in his mind, shifting around his thoughts like puzzle pieces and prodding at his senses, letting him see the unseen. And he could’ve sworn his teacher’s gaze passed over him while he spoke.

Jesus christ, fine, he’ll get rid of the data.

“And-“ A whistle materializes from under the man’s capture weapon and in the next two seconds there’s a deep breath, a piercing noise, and the thump of a 150 pound dummy falling from the sky and crashing against the concrete just one foot shy of where Izuku’s kneeling.

The hero student looks up. Uraraka’s mom gives a peace sign from upon her construction crane. He gives one back.

“—there will be no more speeches.”

~~

“Before you administer any sort of first aid, or even so much as wave for help, it’s important that you assess the scene first. Otherwise, in your attempts to save a life, you could make things worse.”

Aizawa-sensei stood next to the dummy as he spoke, the one so eloquently labeled ‘ Dead Injured Civilizan 4.’ Where were the other three? Probably hanging somewhere from a crane by Uraraka’s mom. Why was Uraraka’s mom helping Aizawa-sensei drop dummies from a crane? Well, it’s not unusual for parents in Japan to go above and beyond in their PTA duties.

But when had Aizawa asked her to help out with that? Why was Uraraka’s mom his first thought for recruitment? Why did he find it necessary to drop it from so goddamn hi—?

“And there are three basic priorities for when you’re assessing the scene, so pay attention.” No, he doesn’t think he will, he’s still got unanswered questions. Izuku stared raptly at the demonstration anyhow from his place within the formed circle of students around the dummy. “Figuring out what happened, checking for hazards, and deciding what to do next- And you need to go about it as quickly as possible while remaining level-headed as you wait for emergency services to arrive. Which, although depending on where you are the time could vary, should be about 8 minutes and 54 seconds. And no, I won’t be rounding up to 9. So,” Aizawa-sensei looked to him and Izuku started the stopwatch. “Time starts now. Monoma, what can you tell us about your surroundings? Big picture.”

The boy maneuvered through the crowed to step up to the dummy, turning in circles while he scanned the fake city.

“We’re between a couple establishments, a dry cleaners and a real estate business. The sun’s out, but it’s February, so it’s cold and windy. And… there’s a body lying down on the ground, seemingly unconscious.”

“Great. Two points for a good examination, minus one point for trying to build suspense.” Aizawa said, ignoring Monoma’s groan and encouraging everyone else to do the same. Izuku locked in on the scene, eyes darting between them and the score board he was supposed to be keeping. What kind of point gouging system is this? “Todoroki, build off what he said. Look for smaller details this time, think in terms of possible dangers.”

“The body is on the sidewalk, so, it is… not on the road. This is good. Like Monoma said, they are lying on the sidewalk, but they are face down and most of their weight is on their right side. Which is…” The boy trailed off.

“Which is what?”

“Not good.”

“…Alright. Two points, I guess. Shinsou, take it from there. Try to explain your statements.” Shinsou shoved past Bakugo to get to the front—relying on Kirishima to tug the other boy back—and rested his hands on his knees in a squat to take a closer look.

“They’re not on the road, so they won’t be getting run over any time soon, but face down and on their right side against concrete definitely isn’t the best position to be in for CPR.”

“Correct.” Aizawa said, cueing Izuku to give him a point. “For the recovery position, they should either be on their back for CPR or on their left side to get any liquids out of their system. Two points.”

“But then again, we don’t know what’s happened to them yet… kind of impossible to determine the hazards then, wouldn’t you say?”

“Minus one point for questioning my lesson order.”

A very questionable gouging system.

“Uh-huh. The dummy’s got quite a few layers on. All I can see is a puffer jacket, but if you went through the hassle of putting clothes on this thing then there’s probably an undershirt too. There’s—Hey, do students count as civilians in this scenario?”

Aizawa stared.

“Sure.”

Izuku narrowed his eyes, hesitantly writing again. +1 for creativity(?)

“There’s a lot of people crowding around the body, which could pose as a threat if it stops medical help. There’s a questionable individual dressed in black standing over it. too, suspiciously close to the dummy’s jacket pocket. His arms are crossed, but that could just mean he’s hiding something—The dummy’s wallet that he stole, perhaps?”

Aizawa stared harder, “Plus three points for in-depth observations, minus ten points for disrespecting your elders.”

“I should at least get another seven for critical thinking.” Shinsou scoffed. Aizawa-sensei didn’t give him an inch.

“The assignment was to check for hazards and threats.”

“Yourself withstanding?.”

“Oh, no.” Aizawa-sensei breathed a laugh and Shinsou stopped smiling. Izuku had the hunch he wasn’t feeling very safe from threats right now, either. “No.”

“HAHA!” All Might danced a little on his way to the front of Aizawa, bright smile and painfully obvious beads of sweat running down his neck. “Such an analytical mind, that one! Does anyone else have something they’d like to add?” Ashido stepped forward.

“The body’s on the sidewalk, which like, yeah, is a good thing compared to the middle of the road, I guess. But this sidewalk is wayyy dirty—I see blackened gum and dogshit over there.”

“Minus one point for language. Plus two for bringing to attention the pollution that dog owners manage to make in a city that’s not even real,” Izuku awarded. He thinks he’s managed to figure the point-giving system out by now: be objective, but also be biased? It’s a pretty counteractive point system now that he thinks about it, and for once he’s gonna use up more of his eraser than his lead, but it’s simple. He just has to be a dictator.

Kaminari appeared in a flash behind Ashido.

“The cafe next to the dry cleaner’s is radiating a scent, sort of like a pumpkin spice one, which totally could have drawn this person in—“

“Once again, hazards. We’re checking for hazards. We’re figuring out what happened after.”

“—but scents can be deceiving!” Kaminari continued and he was sprinting into the cafe before anyone could stop him. The one for all user slowly flipped to a different page.

“So are we switching the lesson order…?” Aizawa-sensei sighed.

“Sure.”

A minute passes before Kaminari comes back out with disposable coffee cup in one hand and a menu in the other, the liquid spilling all over his arm while he ran. The boy wasted no time after reaching them, nudging the drink at Todoroki.

“Here, try.”

He took a decently long sip, and it was in moments like these that Izuku almost regrets trying to open his friend’s mind up to new media and treats. He should at least question the food someone shoves in his face and tells him to eat.

“This is… not good.”

“I knew it. The coffee’s total ass.” Izuku subtracted a point. “There’s just so much caffeine in this that you need to add crazy amounts of cream and sugar for it to be a quarter of the way digestible. Todoroki’s sip alone was already three times the daily recommended amount.”

“That’s really not good.” Izuku said belatedly.

“It can’t be a coincidence,” Kaminari continued, “The cafe’s gotta have something to do with this guy’s death.”

“He’s not dead.” Aizawa called out, his shouts falling on deaf ears.

“But assuming it does,” Ashido picked up where Kaminari left off, wagging her finger like he’s onto something. “Assuming this guy was a regular and it took more than a few visits and high dosages to kill him-“

“Nothing killed him.”

“—why’d he let the scent keep fooling him? Why’d he keep adding sugar if he knew it’d never be enough? It’s impossible, he’d at least learn his lesson by the third day.”

“Are you guys actually fucked in the head?” Kacchan asked from next to him and okay, that’s a little much. It’s also a little hurtful how that of all things is what got the faceless students to start muttering shared sentiments and working together, almost pushing Izuku back into the sea of teenagers when they aggressively started saddling up behind the explosive boy.

“Kacchan,” He panted when he finally fought against the tide, a hand placed on his classmate’s shoulder. “You have to be—! Constructive—!”

Kacchan huffed and shifted, letting him through to get to where Ashido and Kaminari were stuck in their own world, and not blowing his face off when Izuku wordlessly asked him to hold his notebook for a second, his way of being considerate. They’ve come so far.

“Guys, I respect your observations, but let’s try to take this seriously, alright?” He asked and the two sighed. Izuku swiped the menu into his hands suddenly and placed it a centimeter from Kaminari’s eyes. “The prices, THEY’RE SO CHEAP. THAT’S WHAT DREW HIM IN.”

“You’re a piece of shit, Deku.“

“The deceased—“

“He’s not deceased, kid.” Aizawa had his head in his hands now, and Izuku would worry if he wasn’t already too occupied with the case.

“—had obviously reached a new low in his life, hence why he’s been forced to resort to the cheap, albeit aromatic, and foul tasting coffee. Question is, what put him in this economic position in the first place?” It’s not like Izuku had the person’s banking statements with him, nor did he think any teachers would offer up their credit card to be used as a prop which he could call the bank of to make a financial statement on the dummy’s behalf. One thing he might have, though? “Shishida, check his wallet!”

Izuku’s teacher watched quietly as the beast quirked kid smacked around the back of the jacket until he felt a lump where the wallet is, proceeding to manhandle the corpse until he got the jacket off and the wallet out. The dummy was splayed out on its back with twisted limbs by the end of the assault.

And really, that was when his teacher’s silence and shadowy-ness started to get concerning. But in the next second Shinsou gasped in fake shock at the revelation that the wallet was not, in fact, in Aizawa-sense’s pocket, and that at least managed to get the man to take up his usual expression of hating everyone and everything.

Izuku caught the wallet Shishida threw to him, sifting through the contents until he found something akin to a clue of what his identity was. No ID, but there was a business card. All it had were the words ‘Contracting Department Manager’ on it and a small continuous line drawing of a book with flowers coming out of it as the company logo, so not a very good business card, but still. He passed it over to Iida.

“Quick, scan the lobbies of the buildings around here for anything that might replicate this logo.”

He was back in five seconds, directing the group’s eyes to a beige brick building covered in windows across the street.

“Mighty Publishing House, building directory says they’ve got a contracting department on the fourth floor.”

“THAT’S IT!” Ashido screamed, “The guy’s a contractor for a publishing company! Those people work like 30 hours of overtime a month! And they don’t even get paid that much for it!” Jirou squinted.

“Why do you-“

“I failed Zawa-sensei’s quirk law quiz last semester and started looking for alternative career paths and their hours. God, Kyouka, get over it. Anyway, no wonder the guy’s drinking cheap, shitty coffee, he’s gotta save up to quit.” She held up the cup she’d taken back from Todoroki, “Every morning he’d get his drink, and he’d probably get a few more throughout the day just to keep himself functioning. After all that excess sugar and caffeine it’d be inevitable that his… HIS HEART GAVE OUT! HEART ATTACK! THAT’S IT! THAT’S MY FINAL ANSWER! HOW’D WE DO ZAWA-SENSEI?!”

It was when the Eraser hero finally slid his hands off his face did Izuku realize that he’d kind of been treating this like one of those monthly subscription mystery cases, all of them had. And somewhere along the way Ashido, and Ashido alone, deluded herself into treating it like a game show. Now floating in a sort of post-detection clarity, he sobered up enough to acknowledge that he didn’t think the cafe actually had anything to do with this, and the business card was most likely just one of the teachers’ attempts to make this simulation a little more realistic. The complexity of this lesson probably started and ended the moment the dummy hit the gr-

“100% right, good job.”

“Huh?”

Aizawa raised an eyebrow and walked over to Kacchan, taking the notebook and tossing it to Izuku. Kacchan had given no resistance, the object slipping easily out of his hands while he stared at where it used to be.

“I said good job, every statement was accurate. In a gross violation of labor laws, this individual’s boss forced them to complete one too many hours of overtime, desecrating the sacred history of workers’ unions along the way. Hence, the cafe, the coffee, and heart failure. Just goes to show how awful employers can be, doesn’t it?” This lesson had interesting themes. “So congrats, 20 points each for Kaminari, Ashido, and Midoriya, and 5 points for Iida and Shishida. Great observational skills.”

Aizawa checked his timer.

“And now he’s dead.” The smile fell and the stomachs of the students fell along with it. “Kaminari and Ashido, you figured it out, but you also completely ignored the actual assignment, which was to identify hazards. Minus 5 each. Shinsou, you found a few hazards, though not all of which were right, but you also began the shift into forgetting the hazard lesson in the first place.” Shinsou smirked.

Ever the instigator.

“Midoriya,” Aizawa continued. Izuku’s eyes went even wider. “You helped solve it, but you completely bypassed the perfect opportunity to move back into the hazards lesson. Minus 5, then minus another one because I’m bitter. You all ignored the dangers, ran off more than once at the most vital moments, and so the victim died. And what I’m getting from this is that none of you respect the lesson plan, nor do you respect the whiteboard.” His eyes grew dark. “But you will. Midoriya- the score board, please”

“Oh, right! Uhhh,” He checked th… this isn’t the right page. Since when did he get here? He flipped forward. “Monoma, 1 point. Ashido, 16 points. Shinsou, -6. Iida, 5. Bakugo, -1.”

“The fuck?”

“-2. Me, 14. Kaminari, 14. Todoroki, 2. Shishida, 5… I think that’s it?”

“One small change; Shishida, 0. You lose 5 points for shaking the victim in a medical emergency.” Shishida threw his hands up.

“I put him in the CPR position, though?”

“If I push you off a building and you land in the recovery position does that mean you’re saved?” Shishida lowered his hands and Aizawa-sensei sighed, nodding his head at someone behind the crowd.

It must have been some signal that was made in the period of time that Izuku lost access to his hearing in the teachers lounge, because Thirteen was rolling over a whiteboard a second later.

And a few more seconds later, Ashido’s name was written on the left side in big, capital letters. Shinsou’s name written in smaller, lowercase letters to the right.

“Ashido, congrats. You’re on top for now.”

“What’s the prize?”

“Who knows, claim a building in this city and Cementoss will engrave your name on it.” Ever the Robinhood. “Shinsou, I’d put you somewhere lower if I could.”

Shinsou wiped a fake tear from his cheek and wiped a few more when he saw how dead Aizawa-sensei looked. His teacher reset the timer back to 0 and started it up.

“Let’s try this again. This time, focus on the hazards. Masuda, you’re up.”

Silence.

Aizawa looked up from the timer.

“Masuda?” The boy looked stunned.

“You know my name?” He reset it again.

“…Yaoyorozu, you’re up.” She crouched down near the dummy.

“There’s a water spill pretty close to the body, which could pose a threat in the case that we need to make use of a defibrillator. There’s also quite a lot of spilled coffee nearby, too, which can be a danger, as well. However, the jacket was taken off, freeing up the mobility of the individual, and they’re no longer in an uncomfortable position.” She stood up, “I’d say that’s it for now.”

“Good, three points.” He paused the timer. “Now, given what we know about the cause of injury and the potential safety risks around us, what’s the most logical next step?”

All four classes harmoniously called out ‘CPR’ in that typical annoyed teenage voice. It was kind of sweet how much they were bonding.

“Yeah alright. But adding on to that, because of the multiple liquid spills, using a defibrillator isn’t in our best interest. Don’t wanna electrocute them, after all. And for…” Aizawa-sensei trailed off watching Jirou shift closer to where the dummy was, crouching down in Momo’s old spot and staring intensely. “What is it?”

“It’s just… their shirt.” She ran her hand over the fabric, fingers catching on the small rips and holes in it. “Aizawa-sensei, is it really morally correct of us to do CPR? Can we really let them keep living like this?” He narrowed his eyes, but for the most part he looked pretty caught off guard by the question.

“What are you suggesting, a mercy killing? They shouldn’t die just because they’ve got a few tears in their clothes.” Now it was Jirou’s turn to look caught off guard.

“What? No, not that.” She held the shirt up, letting the rest of the students get a good look at the design. “They’re wearing Tame Tame Tail Waggers merch, that band’s a total rip off of the Wild Wild Pussycats. Disgusting, by the way. It’s not about whether or not we can let them keep living, it’s about whether or not they even deserve to.”

Aizawa stared down at her- It feels like he’s been doing a lot of that today- for a little while before heading back to the whiteboard, erasing Shinsou’s lowercase name and replacing it with Jirou’s, except smaller. Shinsou did a fist pump.

“How many points deducted is that?”

What? He’s got a job to do. The eraser hero shook his head.

“Irrelevant. She’s staying there.” His hands clapped together and he turned on his feet, “CPR.”

~~

“It’s important to ask for consent before you touch them or anything- a verbal or physical confirmation work just fine- unless they’re they’re unconscious, in which case consent is implied. But you’ve gotta check whether or not the person’s even unresponsive at all. Talk to them, shout at them,” He hovered a hand over their chest, “check their breathing, really breathing not just gasping breaths,” He moved his fingers up their neck and his other hand to their wrist, “and then check for their pulse. If you don’t get good results for any of it, that’s when you get to work. Anyone know what comes first?”

“Call 119,” Rin from class 2-B called out.

“Correct. Now for what comes next, you’re gonna want them on their back on a flat surface which, luckily, Shishida has already done for our main guy. But go ahead and make sure nothing’s elevating the rest of your dummies.”

Ten of the students lined up in front of the classes- as well as Kirishima who took over the main dummy- proceeded to lift up the dummies and swipe at the ground below them, ridding anything from underneath. With gloves on, though, there was after all the spare chance of getting their hands stuck in some gum. It was Uraraka, Awase, Tetsutetsu, Kodai, erm, Chiyo. Hiroshi, he thinks. And- and…

And he can remember everyone’s names but theirs.

Izuku pulled the book down over his head in a silent scream, ignoring the side glance Kacchan gave him. Which was surprisingly easy, there was significantly less scorching heat to it than usual. It freaked him out if he’s being honest. Hound Dog’s nice and all but he’s not a one-session miracle worker. Even if he was, this is plain unnatural.

“You’re gonna place two hands on the center of the chest, one over the other. Make sure your elbows are locked and your shoulders are lined up directly over over your hands. Then you’re gonna begin compressions- and don’t be too light with it, either. All compressions should be at least two inches deep in the chest, hard, CPR is known to break ribs for a reason.” He paused, then looked to Cementoss. “But you should at least try not to. And finally, most importantly, don’t do mouth to mouth.”

“But-“ Kaminari was interrupted.

“No.”

“But why-“

“Just don’t. It was taken out of CPR fifty years ago and it’s gonna stay that way. As for the rate of compressions, it should be about 100 to 120 per minute.”

“However!” Mic-sensei piped up, jumping next to Aizawa, “There are some easy tips and tricks for getting that done. For example-“

“A machine.” Majima spat out.

“No. Using the identical CPR rhythm of a song-!“

“No.” Aizawa spat next.

“A wonderful song-“

“Leave. You’re not even a heroics teacher.”

Mic-sensei placed one hand over his ear and stuck the other hand’s pointer finger in front of himself, as if a melody had come over his body.

“Ah? Ahh, ah, AH STAYIN ALIVE!”

“STAYIN ALIVE!” The rest of the teachers and some students echoed in a chant. Aizawa looked like he was having a psychotic break.

“FEEL THE CITY—FUCK!” Mic-sensei was shoved into the dark alley and didn’t come back out.

Izuku would be more concerned if he hadn’t heard of this kind of thing happening before, only in America. It may not be a song you could do CPR too, All Might said, but for all intents and purposes “Sweet Caroline” could cripple the productivity of a mission. Or enhance it?

“I don’t recommend songs,” The Eraser hero said calmly, “They work for some, but I fear many of you sing songs too fast or too slow. From personal experience I’d recommend using a much more efficient method of timing your compressions, which is to count by 0.5 seconds in your head. For example-“ Aizawa took a deep breath but got cut short.

“Just use a song, kids.” Midnight-sensei called out.

“Fine.” Aizawa started the timer. “First to resuscitate their dummy gets 20 points. Begin.”

It ended surprisingly fast. Turns out it wasn’t just combat that some quirks were especially suited towards, it was first-aid, too. Five seconds after the students realized they had no idea what dated song Mic-sensei was singing and knew none of the lyrics besides those two lines, subsequently falling into a clueless panic, Kirishima hardened his arms and started counting by every 0.5 seconds. He won shortly after that.

Izuku prepared to give him 20 points but Aizawa held up a hand to stop him.

“Good job. 20 points for winning, 10 for quirk creativity, and 5 for being right.“ Kirishima gave a sharp grin and ran to fist bump Kacchan, who rejected him, but Aizawa-sensei wasn’t done. “However, you lose 35 for breaking the law.”

“What?”

Aizawa used the toe of his boot to roll Kirishima’s dummy over onto its front, crouching down to lift the back of its shirt. And in bright red ink and a large font:

DO NOT RESUSCITATE

Aizawa gave his logical ruse grin.

“Expect the unexpected.”

~~

“Someone has, through a third party associate, brought up the complaint that perhaps I should have reviewed Japan’s Good Samaritan Laws before proceeding with CPR. And maybe I shouldn’t have advertised a prize if resuscitating was against the law in this hypothetical situation. And, okay. That’s on me.”

Kirishima was unresponsive on his knees. Tetsutetsu patted his back and Kacchan looked a little freaked knowing he denied the guy his last fist bump. But, a diluted kind of freaked. Again, weird.

“Problem is, Japan doesn’t have clearly defined good Samaritan Laws. So really, it’s not on me.”

“Didn’t you say we were encouraged to bla-“

“However,” He continued as if Jirou hadn’t spoken, a byproduct of being the permanent lowest scorer and therefore treated as a second class species, “What our country does grant its people is article 37.” Izuku had the page open and ready to recite before Aizawa even snapped.

“An act unavoidably performed to avert a present danger to the life, body, liberty or property of oneself or any other person is not punishable only when the harm produced by such act does not exceed the harm to be averted."

“What do they mean exceed?” Uraraka asked, and their teacher took a moment to think over a good response.

“Imagine two scenarios: Person A suffers from a cardiac arrest but dies peacefully after they flatline. Person B also undergoes a cardiac arrest but instead dies after five of their ribs stab into their lungs, leading to internal bleeding and an agony so great they wish for death with their last breath. Who’s got it worse?”

“Person B!” The class rang out in another mix of high and low pitched voices. Vlad King looked shaken to his very core.

“Exactly, the damage done trying to save person B ended up exceeding the damage they would’ve faced if you hadn’t stepped in at all.” Aizawa-sensei gave a chilling glance-over. “Sometimes, not meddling with things you don’t understand the full scope of is the best thing you can do.”

“Wait, who breaks five ribs doing CPR?” Jirou broke the silence with.

“Additionally,” His teacher cut off again, “What being a resident of UA and a specimen of the HPSC grants you is a good legal team if you do get persecuted. So there, rest easy.” Aizawa shrugged, “Saving someone with a DNR, though? Can’t help you there.”

Kirishima remained unresponsive for the next ten minutes.

~~

“There’s really not much you can do about a concussion when you’re on site, since no matter what you do the person is still gonna be experiencing the pain anywhere from a week to a few months. Honestly this barely counts as first aid. But what you can do is help identify a concussion in its starting stages and provide some relief until the person gets a checkup. Thankfully,” Aizawa’s eyes burned into Vlad, “We’ve got a volunteer to help us with that.”

“I’m doing this for my class, I’m doing this for my class,” The blood hero mumbled to himself.

“Everyone say thank you, Vlad-sensei.”

‘Thank you Vlad-senseiiiii’ was chanted in sync from the crowd of pitiful children. Vlad let out a shaky breath.

“Now, concussions can be caused by many things. For example, a punch to the jaw.”

A grin grew on Aizawa-sensei’s face and subsequently disappeared at the flat look Midnight-sensei was giving him. He made a subtle throat cutting gesture and Izuku passed it along to Momo, whose eyes went wide as she threw the half made boxing glove into the dark alley of no return.

“Or the chin or the skull or whatever. Strong enough to knock the head fully in any direction, but it doesn’t have to be so strong it knocks them out, so you’ll commonly find concussed victims in car accidents and such. Some symptoms may take days to show themselves, but a good amount of them appear within the first few minutes or hours, and that’s what we’ll be focusing on. First up, clear discharge from the nose or ears.”

“Wait,” Vlad said after a second, eyebrows furrowed, “Did I need props for thi-“

The hero was cut off by Izuku throwing a handful of leftover bucket water at his face. He met the boy’s eyes through dripping lashes and was greeted with no sympathy. Like Aizawa-sensei told him earlier, albeit doing his logical ruse grin at the same time, this was purely for educational purposes. Not that he really believed him, but ever since joining the environmental awareness club Izuku’s been pretty big on the conservation of natural resources. He’s helping the world heal, one blissfully ignorant task at a time.

“Alternatively, blood running from the ears.”

Izuku flicked red pen ink at him.

“Dizziness or loss of balance.”

Vlad’s right arm was grabbed by him at the same time Momo grabbed his left, proceeding to get pulled from side to side and knocked around. Vlad’s blank look remained in his eyes.

“Seizures.”

They started shaking.

“Excessive, repetitive vomiting.”

A bucket of some unknown substance Momo generated was poured onto the concrete while Izuku cupped his own mouth to make vomiting noises. Shinsou gave him a thumbs up for the performance quality and perhaps that was Vlad’s last straw. Dark red eyes stared deep into green.

“Really, kid?” He nodded.

Aizawa-sensei nudged the guy’s shin with his foot.

“Hey, volunteer, I don’t see you helping out with gagging noises. Someone’s gotta carry the presentation.” He said. “Next, irritable, irrational behavior.”

Nothing happened.

“Anyway, as for the treatment… give them an icepack or something. Pain killers are a good idea if you’ve got ‘em. Just make sure a medical professional on site and their guardian knows.”

“Seriously?” Izuku’s teacher looked at his whispering coworker.

“What.” He muttered back.

“An ice pack and some advil? That’s what you had me fake vomiting for?”

“No, that’s what you volunteered to fake vomit for- Not that you really helped much with it.”

“Because you told me nothing in advance!.”

“Yeah, it’s my fault. Everything’s my fault. Nobody here has the sense to check for DNR tattoos, nobody knows the lyrics to Stayin Alive, nobody is satisfied with just throwing a knife, they’ve always gotta hit someone with it, you can’t fake vomit for shit, and it’s all my fault.“

What?

“What?”

“I’m giving you a heads up now, happy?” Aizawa-sensei raised his voice back to normal. “Another symptom: going to sleep and not waking up for a long time. Midoriya, the glove”

“Yes, Midoriya, the glove!” A sickly sweet voice cut in.

Izuku watched the spark in his teacher’s eyes fade from their usual ‘I’m ruining someone’s day and I’m proud of it‘ glint to just… nothing. Aizawa-sensei was there when Vlad first got splashed with water, but when the crowd of students parted like the Red Sea to reveal Nezu standing at the center, his teacher was gone. Physically there, but gone. Izuku remembers this kind of thing happening for people whose heart stops, and for seven minutes they relive the happiest moments of their lives. Marriage, birth of a child, anything before Nezu arrived is up for grabs, really.

He didn’t even look like he wanted to physically be there either.

“Aizawa-kun, mind if I observe?”

And he was back.

“Sure.”