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Chapter Text

Aizawa Shouta was tired. Not the bone-weary exhaustion that had him holed up in his sleeping bag for days on end -- but, tired. 

Today had been the first full day of proctoring the UA entrance exams. They would continue throughout the week to accommodate both the number of applicants, as well as the different departments the potential students could test into. So far, the top-performing examinee for the Heroics course got in on a bad attitude and villain points alone. 

So, yes. Aizawa Shouta was tired. 

Crouched on the edge of the roof as he was, he observed the streets below him silently. He was coming to the end of his patrol, and if everything remained as it was, he'd be able to catch a decent nap before having to report in to the school for another round of proctoring. 

Which, of course, is when he saw the kid being chased down the alley. 

***

Holy shit, Izuku panicked. What are these people?!

Izuku's back and shoulder stung from when he'd had to grapple with one of the thugs in his escape. His lungs burned with adrenaline as he lunged down yet another unfamiliar alleyway. Gravel and bits of trash dug into his bare feet -- bare after his shoes and socks had been stripped from him for god knows what reason. 

He didn't have the breath to spare for a startled cry when his legs were swept out from under him. He landed hard on his stomach and arms, his chin bouncing off the concrete. He attempted to kick back hard to free himself, only to find that whatever had tripped him up was still on him and constricting and dragging him back down the alley oh god --

Izuku twisted until he was on his back, getting a full view of the man attacking him. Average height and muscular. Denim jeans, a plain shirt and jacket. No truly distinguishable features, except for the arm he had wrapped around Izuku's legs from the opposite end of the alley what the actual fuck?!

His attacker's other arm suddenly shot out and Izuku tried to grapple for it in his panic. Quickly losing control, the man's forearm slammed into Izuku's throat and pinned him bodily to the ground.

Izuku gagged for air, hands scrabbling at the arm and chin digging downwards, hoping and failing to put a barrier between his neck and his attacker. 

"You fucking shitty brat," the man spat, coming up to Izuku's struggling form. "I'll fucking break your legs for that stunt, hah? Fucking run off on us again, just fucking try. "

Izuku's eyes were wide and wild, both from lack of oxygen and fear. What did these people even want from him? They already had his stuff! And his shoes! 

The arm pressed down further on his throat and Izuku scratched at it in desperation. 

"Just fucking pass out already. I'm not --"

Izuku never got to find out what the man wasn't.

The crunch of bone and startled cry ripped angrily from his assailant's mouth. The arm pressing down on Izuku's throat was suddenly ripped away and Izuku gulped in one greedy breath of air after another. 

"Fucking shit! My nose! You broke my fucking nose!"

"That was a warning."

Still gasping in air, hands gripping the shirt at his chest, Izuku looked up at the hard, even voice that saved him. 

A man, dressed in black from head to toe, stood between Izuku and his assailant. One hand was tucked into his pants pocket, the other Izuku couldn't see as it was blocked by his body.

"Let go of the kid."

The ' fuck you' he got in answer was slightly garbled from the broken nose Izuku could now see but didn't lack in animosity. In retaliation, the arm still wrapped around Izuku's legs tightened and attempted to drag him back down the alley and away from the man in black. A panicked cry escaped his mouth as Izuku sat up and desperately tried to unlock the hold the arm had on him.

The man in black brought his boot down hard on the extended limb.

Another cry of pain and suddenly the freakish limb was unwound and retracting. Finally freed, Izuku scrambled to his feet and took an unsteady step back. 

"You're making this difficult," the man in black grumbled, shifting forward and bringing his hand from his pocket. 

As if the angry shriek he got in answer was some sort of starting bell, the man in black lunged forward, hair floating straight up and white strips of -- rope? Maybe? -- flew outward from his body as he charged down the alley.

Nope. Izuku was not sticking around for this, thank you very much. 

Turning sharply on his heel, Izuku flew back down the alley and escaped into the night.

***

Panting in lungfuls of air, crouched down behind a dumpster who-knows-where, Izuku desperately tried to get a hold of himself. 

Bringing his hands up over his mouth to stifle at least some of the noise he was making, Izuku eased around the dumpster to check if he'd been followed.

Seeing nothing stirring in the alley, Izuku leaned back into his hiding spot, head thumping back against the metal. He attempted to take stock of the state he was in, brain still addled by adrenaline and fear. 

His back, shoulder, and now his throat were probably bruised to hell, but his feet, by far, were the worst off. He couldn't feel it, but now that he had stopped, he could definitely see it. Caked in dirt up to his ankles, he could still make out the blood pooling around the soles of his feet. He must have ripped up the bottoms in his mad dash to escape. 

Okay, Izuku, think! He tried sternly to gather his thoughts. No phone and no idea where I am. What's the next step?

Well, the next step would ideally be to get his sorry butt back home. But since that seemed a little beyond him right now … the police? Help? But to get to any help he'd have to leave his hiding spot and who knows how many others were out there looking for him?

But if I don't even try, Izuku thought, leaning back around to peek again down the alley, am I just going to stay here forever? 

He could wait for morning to come. Morning meant more people and witnesses. And probably help? If he made a break for a busy street, he could have someone point him to the nearest police station. Maybe even call the police for him. Or his mom! 

So wrapped up in his thoughts and still turned to peer down the alley, he didn't hear the muffled thud of boots hitting the floor. 

"Oi, kid."

Izuku shot to his feet at the voice, trying to back up to put distance between them, just to smack the back of his head against the metal dumpster for his efforts. 

Fists flying up to defend his face, Izuku squinted through the sting of tears as he no longer found himself alone in the alley. 

The man in black stood before him, shoulders slouched and hands in his pockets. His white rope-weapon-thing was looped around his shoulders and his hair was no longer defying gravity. 

But how was he here ? How had he found Izuku so fast? 

"I-I've called the police," Izuku bluffed, wincing slightly at the stutter. 

He only got the raise of an eyebrow in response. 

"Leave me alone," he managed more sternly, settling squarely into his stance. 

That got him a roll of the eyes. "The paramedics are on their way to our location," he informed Izuku, rummaging in his pocket for his wallet. Plucking out an ID card, he held it out to Izuku. "My hero license. You can relax, kid."

Izuku blinked, glancing at the card held out to him but making no moves for it. "... hero?"

The man kept the card held out to him with a steady hand. "Your assailant has been detained and is in police custody. Want to tell me why he was after you?"

Izuku's eyes narrowed, bouncing between the license and the man. "This isn't funny," he spat, taking a step to the side and successfully backing up this time. "Whatever game you're playing I don't want to be a part of it anymore."

Dark eyes regarded him calmly. 

A siren approached from behind. Izuku stiffened at the sound. Could it be…? 

"They're here," the man -- the hero? -- observed, pocketing his license as the paramedics pulled up to the entrance of the alley. 

Izuku stole a glance over his shoulder before turning his attention back to the man, still not relaxing his stance. Cautiously, Izuku asked, "Who are you?"

"Eraserhead," he answered, approaching Izuku slowly, and no that wasn't an answer. 

"I meant a real name!" Izuku snapped, tensing as he drew near. 

Broadcasting his movements, Eraserhead ignored the defensive stance and placed his hand on Izuku's shoulder, firmly turning him towards the paramedics who were now waiting beside the ambulance. Without removing his grip, he began to walk Izuku out of the alley.

It didn't take long for the paramedics to take over, ushering Izuku inside to sit on a gurney. Izuku had dropped his defensive posture but remained tense as he was checked over. His eyes darted over the paramedics, who appeared normal enough. And it’s not like someone could fake an ambulance, right? He was safe here. 

Right?

One paramedic tsked over the state of his feet while the second helped Izuku out of his shirt to get a look at his back. Izuku’s attention was drawn outside as police cruisers began to pull up alongside the ambulance. The man, Eraserhead, went over to meet them. 

Finished with wrapping his wounded feet, the paramedic rose and called back his attention. Checking his pupils for a concussion, the paramedic went over the basic questions. Izuku rattled off his answers -- name, birthday, today’s date -- and went back to keeping an eye outside of the ambulance, not noticing the concerned looks the paramedics exchanged over his shoulder. 

Izuku froze as Eraserhead approached the ambulance with an officer, because … was that …?

“Kid,” Eraserhead acknowledged, gesturing to the officer at his side. “This is Officer Tamakawa Sansa. You can give him your statement.”

“Hello!” Officer Tamakawa greeted, furred ears pricked forward and feline eyes glowing softly in the dark. 

It was still happening. He wasn’t safe at all. 

Hands were suddenly on his shoulders, voices garbled and drowned out over the sound of his blood rushing in his ears. Izuku couldn’t breathe. 

With the image of the cat head on a man’s body, Izuku passed out.

Chapter Text

Izuku came to in a hospital. Which, given that he’d fainted in an ambulance, shouldn’t have come as, as much of a shock to him as it did.

Blinking wide eyes at the room around him, Izuku attempted to gather his wits about him. It was a single patient room, the only furniture being the bed he found himself in and the chair up against the wall, while everything else seemed pretty typical of a hospital. Not that he would know. Aside from the usual check-up, Izuku had never had a reason to be in a hospital. 

Sitting up, he took stock of himself. While definitely sore, there was a surprising lack of pain. Pulling back the covers -- and finding himself in a set of scrubs, thank god -- he pulled a foot towards him for inspection. Pulling back the bandages, Izuku blinked at the bottom of his foot. 

Specifically, the pink and freshly healed skin of his foot. No residual scratches, scabs, or bruising. Just, skin. 

Taking the bandages off his other foot brought him the same results. 

This is ok , Izuku attempted to convince himself, breathing suddenly irregular. If I’ve been here for so long that everything’s healed, then Mom has to know I’m here. 

He repeated that assurance to himself to drown out the nagging question that followed. Just how long had Izuku been out for? 

Noise from the door had his head whipping around and his aching muscles tensing. When the noise continued on past his room, Izuku carefully lowered his feet to the floor, testing his weight on them before padding over to the door. Cracking it open, he held his breath and peered out. 

To his right, it appeared that more rooms continued down the row before the hallway broke off into separate directions. To his left, just a ways down, was a nurse station currently bustling with activity.

Two nurses seemed to be chatting over a patient file together. The one holding the file had a tail that bobbed along with the gestures they were making with their free hand. The other was nodding at what they were saying, scratching thoughtfully over the blue skin of their cheek. 

The third nurse, clacking away at a keyboard, had feathers instead of hair. 

Izuku closed the door and slid the lock in place. 

***

“Nothing?” Aizawa questioned, side-eyeing his companion. 

“Nothing as of now,” corrected Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa, folding his trench coat over his arm as they continued down the hospital corridor. “Our systems are having trouble pulling information from both his name and his fingerprints, but not necessarily because there’s nothing to pull. Our analysts assure it’s simply delayed because of the backlog of information the servers are going through.”

Aizawa grunted in acknowledgment, though he couldn’t see how that was possible. How could a teenager’s information be buried that deeply in their databases? 

“You know,” Tsukauchi continued, changing the subject with a teasing lilt, “I think you’ll have to treat Sansa to dinner after this. He was devastated.”

Aizawa scoffed, not even bothering with a response. Though it was true the feline officer had become rather despondent after the kid’s strong reaction to him in the ambulance. Typically, the officer found himself rather well-liked, especially with the younger crowd. The hyperventilating and subsequent fainting at the sight of him had been a blow the officer’s heart had not been prepared to take. 

They were finding the kid’s reactions were never typical. For instance, even after Aizawa had assured him of his pro hero status, the kid had only gotten more defensive, ready to fight Aizawa for another escape. 

Midoriya Izuku. He was scrappy, Aizawa would give him that. 

Now arriving at the kid’s room, Tsukauchi knocked politely before opening the door and gesturing Aizawa ahead of him. 

Taking two steps into the room, Aizawa came to an abrupt halt. “Tsukauchi,” he drawled, “please tell me they have him scheduled for follow up testing right now.”

The detective came to a stop next to him, surprised eyes taking in the empty room. 

Midoriya Izuku was gone. 

***

Izuku stared straight ahead in disbelief as the automated voice told him his mom’s number was no longer in service. It was his third attempt, but the voice that greeted him was still the same. And it definitely was not the voice he wanted. 

Placing the handset back in its receiver, he sucked in a shaky breath. 

This was fine. His mom’s number was suddenly not working, but that -- it was fine. He could figure this out. No problem. 

Glancing up from under his bangs, Izuku took in the empty row of phones on either side of him. He’d managed to duck into the stairwell on his floor and had made it unnoticed to the first floor waiting area. If no alarms had sounded yet, then there was still a chance they hadn’t even noticed he’d left his room, right?

He was barefoot still , but with the scrubs he was in he could totally pass for some kind of intern. He might not be able to call for help, but there was nothing keeping him from getting home on his own. 

He just … needed to act casual. 

He could totally do this! 

Making an abrupt about-face, Izuku squared his shoulders and tried not to focus too much on how he was supposed to walk. 

He had to dodge awkwardly around a few visitors and staff members in his single-minded attempt to make it across the lobby. He gradually lowered his gaze to avoid making any kind of eye contact with those around him, keeping the large glass doors in front of him as he sped up.

The doors opened in front of him and Izuku barely kept himself from booking it. A relieved sigh left him as he took his first steps over the threshold and outside. 

A hand clamped down firmly on his shoulder and Izuku’s heart flew from his chest. 

“Nice try, kid.”

***

After a slight tussle at the door, Aizawa managed to twist the kid's arm behind his back, and with a firm grip to his neck, marched him back to his room.

Now Aizawa found himself leaning back against the wall, observing as Tsukauchi introduced himself to the kid who was currently sitting on the bed and eyeing him up with blatant suspicion. 

His side throbbed in protest where he'd caught the kid's elbow with a rib. 

Aizawa was definitely too tired for this. 

"Midoriya-kun," Tsukauchi was explaining, "I'll just need you to answer a few questions about what took place last night. But before that, can you confirm your birthdate for me?"

Clearly unhappy, Midoriya's eyes darted back and forth between Aizawa and the detective before rattling off a date.

Pausing in his note-taking, Tsukauchi stole a glance at Aizawa, who straightened up at the look.

Not a lie then. 

"Can you tell me about what happened, Midoriya-kun? Wherever you'd like to start is fine."

Midoriya answered with a skeptical squint. 

"We need your statement for the events that transpired. You're not in trouble," Tsukauchi assured him. 

Without dropping the squint, Midoriya reluctantly answered. "I was on my way home. I didn't even notice them before they grabbed me. And then it was like, we were falling? And we weren't out on the street anymore, but inside?" With an indignant huff, he concluded, "They took my shoes!"  

And that explanation did nothing to answer the adult's questions. 

Tsukauchi leaned forward in his chair. "You said you were inside. Do you remember anything about the location?"

"It was, like, a warehouse? There was a lot of equipment, but a lot of open space, too." His mouth twisted with discomfort, already disliking the taste of his next words. "They held me down to a table while they took pictures of my feet. They were using some weird machine to do it."

Tsukauchi blinked. "I see." 

Midoriya shrugged. "I didn't really see anything else. A couple of them tried to move me after that, probably into another room, but…" 

"But you escaped," Tsukauchi provided helpfully.

The kid jerked a nod. "Yeah … That guy, with the, uhm. Arms. What…?"

Tsukauchi hummed in understanding. "His quirk. He can extend his arms a considerable distance and manipulate their shape to an extent. He has a surprising dexterity over them." 

"His quirk?"

"Yes, but luckily for you, Eraserhead was on patrol when you ran by. His quirk ended up being very effective in detaining him." Tsukauchi smiled. 

Izuku blinked before an angry flush ran up his neck. "Am I being punked?"

It was Tsukauchi's turn to blink. "Excuse me?" 

"Well, you got your laughs, ok? Heroes and quirks and cats. But I'm done. This was all very elaborate and you guys are just so creative, but I want to go home. Now." When no immediate moves were made to release him, Midoriya demanded, "I want to talk to my mom!"

"Midoriya-kun, I understand your frustration, but I can assure you this is not a joke." 

Tsukauchi began his explanation. Of his lie detection quirk and how it was used to verify all of Midoriya's answers as true. That, while his answers were clearly honest, the birthdate he gave was hundreds of years in the past. It was statistically more likely due to a mental quirk he was under the influence of rather than a time-warping quirk, as one of this magnitude had never been recorded before. They would be able to confirm that once they pulled his information from their system.

At the kid's blank stare, Tsukachi began a gentle but abridged reminder of the history of quirks, hoping to spark the kid's memory and shake the influence he was under. 

Failing at both, it was at this point the kid broke down in tears. 

Aizawa sighed. 

Chapter Text

Midoriya took another sullen bite of his pudding as Aizawa closed the door behind him. It had been hours since Tsukauchi had left to follow up on the investigation into the kid's circumstances, and Aizawa had just received an update that the detective had arrived back at the hospital.

Aizawa, for his part, had stayed behind to keep an eye on the kid. As they had been reminded rather unfortunately that morning, the kid was a flight risk. Aizawa had had to warn the kid away from the door once already when he had attempted to tiptoe past what he thought was a sleeping Aizawa.

The sound of approaching footsteps alerted the hero to the detective’s arrival. 

Tsukauchi greeted him with a tired smile. “How’s he doing?” 

“The crying’s stopped if that’s what you’re referring to.”

Tsukauchi gave a tired chuckle at that, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Well?” Aizawa’s tone bordered on impatience, but he was in no mood to draw this conversation out longer than necessary. Present Mic had been spamming his phone all morning with texts demanding an explanation for his absence from the entrance exams and why he didn’t get him out of it, too. Which did nothing but add to the exhaustion he had already been fighting from yesterday’s exams. 

Tsukauchi handed over a stack of files in answer. The topmost had the kid’s name written on it.

Flipping it open, Aizawa scanned the contents, abruptly looking up to the detective. “This is a cold case.”

Tsukauchi nodded. “Midoriya Izuku, age 16. Disappeared on his way home from his martial arts gym. A body was never found.” 

Aizawa stared. “This case is nearly two hundred years old.”

“I know.”  He motioned for Aizawa to open the next file. “We were able to pinpoint the location of the warehouse Midoriya-kun mentioned after the interrogation with his assailant. The preliminary findings are listed there for you.”

Flipping open the folder, Aizawa took in the report. No further suspects were discovered at the premises. An extensive list of various medical equipment, computers and drives that had been confiscated for further investigation, and -- 

“A body?”

Tsukauchi met him with a grim stare of his own. “Forensics was able to get a positive ID. Hisakawa Miku, age 37. Eraserhead,” he paused as Aizawa flipped to the third folder, “her quirk is called Loop.” 

***

Izuku scowled with his ear pressed up against the door. Eavesdropping wasn’t as easy as they made it look in the movies -- he could barely hear a thing! 

Alright, plan B, he thought. Abandoning the door, he tried to find a secondary exit. Checking the attached bathroom wasn’t much help. There was no way he could squeeze through that tiny window! 

But the window in the middle of the room? Definitely a higher chance of being caught, but he could at least fit through this one. 

Pressing his face up against the window, he looked down...down...down to the floor below. 

Okay, so this was the third story. This was definitely survivable! All he had to do was tie his bedsheets together for a rope, Spiderman his way down the walls for the rest and he could make his escape. No problem! 

But first, the window. 

He didn’t see a visible lock, so he went straight to trying to slide it open. When it didn’t give right away, he put more effort into pushing it open. When pushing didn’t work, he switched positions and threw his weight behind trying to pull it open. 

The hospital room door opened with a click that had Izuku’s head whipping around. A heavy silence filled the room as Izuku maintained eye contact with the men at the door. 

“...I can explain.”

The man -- the hero’s eyes flashed red in warning. “Sit down, problem child.”

Izuku bristled at his tone, debating whether or not to stay standing out of spite. As if sensing this, the detective stepped forward with a small, if not amused, smile. “Please take a seat, Midoriya-kun. I have some updates regarding the investigation I’d like to go over with you.”

Reluctantly, Izuku made his way back to the hospital bed, sitting in it as the detective pulled the chair up to sit beside the bed himself. The hero remained leaned up against the wall by the door.

“I’d like to thank you for your patience with our investigation,” the detective began, and there was definitely amusement in that grin of his now. “We were able to confirm a few things and I hope these will help to put you at ease.”

Izuku almost rolled his eyes at that. He’d be ‘at ease’ as soon as they let him go home. 

“First, we were finally able to pull your information from our systems. Midoriya Izuku, set to start your second year of high school, and the son of Midoriya Hisashi and Midoriya Inko --”

“Just Midoriya Inko.”

The detective paused but conceded the correction easily. “The son of Midoriya Inko. I’m sure, however, you remember our discussion from this morning? Regarding quirks and their several influences?”

This again? Izuku thought, shoulders inching up to his ears defensively. “What about them?”

“Initially,” the detective explained, “we had assumed you were under the influence of a mental quirk. One that affected your memory and distorted your sense of time. Based on recent findings, we were able to confirm that our assumption was incorrect. 

“Midoriya-kun,” Tsukauchi leaned in, his tone gentling further, “we’ve been able to confirm that a time-warping quirk was used to transport you from the 21st century -- the time that you were living in -- into the current 23rd century. The investigation is still open, and at this point, we are left with more questions than answers. But if there is anything I can clear up for you, please don’t hesitate to ask me.”

Izuku blinked. And blinked again. “Are...are you telling me that I was actually kidnapped to the future? ”

The detective met Izuku’s disbelieving stare with an unwavering one of his own. “That is exactly what I’m telling you, Midoriya-kun.”

A laugh bubbled up through Izuku’s chest and escaped; first one, and then another. And suddenly he couldn’t stop. Leaning over, his hands gripped his hair as he stared wide-eyed and unseeing at his lap. The future? What even was his life anymore? 

Abruptly, his laughter cut off as he came to a realization. “My mom is going to be so mad.”

The hero did roll his eyes at that, but the detective reached out to pat Izuku’s knee in commiseration. 

“I promise, Midoriya-kun, we will do everything in our power to get you home. But that leaves us with how we plan to care for you now. We believe that it is too dangerous to leave you without protection, and it would be unfair to leave you with someone who wasn’t aware of your situation.”

Izuku looked up at that, peeking at the detective from between his hands still tangled in his hair. “My situation?”

“As I’m sure you can understand, time-traveling is a very delicate subject, and we’d like to keep the number of agents involved in your case to a minimum. As much for your safety as it is for our agents involved. We are still investigating what the motive behind your kidnapping could be,” the detective explained gently, retracting his hand. “As such, Eraserhead has been assigned as your guardian for your stay.”

“Guardian?” Izuku squeaked, eyes locking with the scruffy-looking hero. “You? ”

The hero quirked a brow. “Is that a problem?”

The detective just barely hid his snicker as Izuku paled.  

***

Izuku had been released from the hospital about an hour ago, having been transferred into the custody of his new guardian. Dressed in a new pair of sweats, a brightly colored shirt and -- finally -- a new set of shoes, the pair had set off for the hero’s home, where Izuku would be living for the next who knew how long. He clutched the bag he had been given with an extra set of clothes for him to his chest, wide eyes taking in his temporary home from the entryway. 

Aizawa, as he’d finally been properly introduced, continued his way into the apartment, making his way to an open door across from the living room. He motioned for Izuku to follow him, which he did after tearing his eyes away from the surprisingly minimally decorated apartment. 

“This will be your room,” the hero explained, eyes watching Izuku’s careful entry into his new room. “We can go shopping tomorrow for anything else you may need. The bathroom is down the hall.”

Izuku nodded, stepping slowly to the center of the room. 

“I’ll leave you to get settled. Can I trust you to behave, or am I going to have to put an alarm on the window?”

Izuku spun to face Aizawa, face flushing in embarrassment. “No!”

Aizawa was definitely smirking as he turned to leave the room. 

Face still warm, Izuku turned back to the room. Like the quick glimpse he had of the rest of the house, it was minimally decorated. A bed and side table with a lamp, and a dresser were the only furniture in the room. A large window let in what light there was left as the sun continued to set. 

The apartment itself was almost eerily quiet. Izuku bit his lip, clutching the bag to his chest tighter and fighting valiantly against the burn in his eyes. 

He wanted to go home.

Chapter Text

Izuku stared with eyes wide with almost wonder. This was kind of wonder, right? Like when a kid sees a character at an amusement park for the first time and it's like magic and wonder and whoa. But he's a teenager and this isn't some kid in a costume but like for real. 

His hand latched onto the hero's sleeve and gave it a tug. "Aizawa-san."

He missed the tick in the man's jaw. "What."

" Aizawa-san," he nearly hissed, turning his attention to the hero while keeping a tight grip on his sleeve. "Your school has its own Master Splinter?"

The impeccably dressed mouse greeted him cheerfully. "I am Principal Nedzu!"

Izuku shook the sleeve harder, because how was no one else blown away by this? "Master Splinter!"

"I am Principal Nedzu!"

Aizawa delivered a firm chop to Izuku's head, ignoring his surprised squawk. "Behave. Take a seat."

"Yes, Midoriya-kun! Come and make yourself comfortable. Are you a fan of tea?" The principal inquired, trotting over to the coffee table set up between some couches. 

When Aizawa had woken him up that morning and told him that he would be going to work with him, this high school had definitely not been what Izuku was expecting. The massive and immaculate campus, the tall but quiet hallways. This was nothing like any of the school's Izuku had ever seen. This was a place that made heroes. 

Izuku rubbed at the sore spot on his head absentmindedly as he took his seat next to Aizawa and across from the principal. From the mouse hero. From his own freaking real life --

"Midoriya-kun?"

He snapped to attention. "Yes, Master! I mean, Splinter. I mean, P-principal Nedzu!"

"Have some tea!" Principal Nedzu insisted, pushing a steaming cup across to Izuku and ignoring Izuku's bumbling like the freaking legend he was. 

Or, at least, took after. Being sucked into the future so far had been pretty awful, but if he had been sucked into his favorite childhood film instead? Now why didn't cool things like that ever happen to Izuku? 

"I am happy to see you in high spirits!" Principal Nedzu chatted, occupying himself with his own cup of tea. "Aizawa-san explained your predicament to me this morning and I was quite surprised!"

"You and me both," Izuku muttered into his teacup, taking a sip. 

"Given the current circumstances of your wardship and the uncertainties in your case, Aizawa-san and I agreed that the best course of action to take would be to keep you on campus during school hours."

"You mean, you want me to hang out here?" He guessed that wouldn't be so bad. Exploring the campus might be fun and he didn't think there was anything fun to do at Aizawa's place except watch the news. 

"Quite the contrary! We are a school, after all, Midoriya-kun. It would be inexcusable to neglect your education!"

He didn't think he liked where this was going. A knock at the door interrupted any response he might have had. Once the principal called a greeting, the door opened to reveal a man clad in leather with long yellow hair that stuck almost straight up. 

Not nearly as exciting as meeting Principal Nedzu, but the guy looked like an interesting character all the same. 

"Right on time!" The principal greeted him, turning his attention back to Izuku. "Midoriya-kun, I would like you to meet Yamada Hizashi, also known as Pro Hero Present Mic! He is the homeroom teacher for the first year General Education class."

Izuku bobbed his head in greeting, watching as Present Mic plopped into a seat next to him, smiling wide at Izuku in a greeting of his own. "Hey, little listener!"

"Present Mic has been made aware of your circumstances and will be your homeroom teacher for your time here with us! You will have to take the General Education Entrance Exam, but only so we can gauge where your level of education and the current curriculum overlap. We will, of course, provide any assistance you may need if you find the current curriculum overwhelming!" 

"Wait -- what?" Izuku asked, staring back and forth between Principal Nedzu and a bored Aizawa. "Are you -- you want me to go to school?"

"YEAH!" Present Mic cheered, Izuku jumping at the sudden volume. Not deterred by the response, Present Mic pumped his fist into the air. "Welcome to UA, little listener! Plus Ultra!"

"But … I-I'm not in first year! I'm supposed to be starting my second year!"

"Quite true," Principal Nedzu agreed, setting down his teacup to fold his paws in his lap. "And we have taken that into account! We felt that it would be easier for you to begin with a first year curriculum until the results of your exam can give us a better idea of how we can continue your schooling! While the basics of education might not have changed enough to impact a certain level of understanding, the pace, and order at which the subjects were taught have varied greatly over the years. Not to mention the advancements! If we find that we are not in alignment, the first year schedule will allow more flexibility for additional tutoring!"

"I have to go to tutoring while I'm here?" So unfair! 

"In addition, Aizawa-san is also a first year homeroom teacher! Keeping you with the first year class will make it easier to keep you closer to and on the same schedule with your guardian!"

Hopping down from the couch, Principal Nedzu stepped merrily towards the door. "Yamada-san will assist you with your uniform, your haircut, and will help to begin your exam. Think of it as an assessment! Come along Aizawa-san, our own proctoring is scheduled to begin!"

Aizawa gave Izuku a stern glance as he got up to follow the principal. "The school has security bots. If you run, they will bring you back."

The door clicked shut behind them. Still grinning, Present Mic turned to Izuku, brandishing a black plastic bag he hadn't noticed before. "Get hyped, little listener! I'll even let you pick the color!"

This future sucked. 

***

Nedzu scampered up Aizawa's leg, over his back, and settled familiarly into his capture weapon. "A student from a different century! What a delight!"

Aizawa scoffed.

"Your ward will be quite safe on campus! I look forward to speaking with him at length!"

"Please don't."

They continued on in silence, steadily making their way to the viewing room for the practical exam.

"Kidnapping a child from a Pre Quirk era is highly specific." Nedzu's beady eyes were sharp. "That they had the ability to successfully do so worries me, Aizawa-san."

Aizawa glared ahead, images of bloodied feet and freckled tear-stained cheeks from the night before mocking him. 

His steps echoed in the sunlit quiet of the halls.

Chapter Text

Izuku flopped down face first, groaning into his new bedsheets. 

Tutoring. Was the worst. 

For the past three days, he'd been holed up in a classroom pulling what was left of his hair out trying to complete his 'assessment.' Mic-sensei had been with him for most of it, giving him lessons on the material he didn't know when he wasn't off helping to proctor the actual entrance exam goers. 

The entrance exam had officially wrapped up this afternoon, but Izuku was still required to go in for more tutoring and if he thought he was going to die before he was sure of it now. 

He flailed about, grumbling about the injustice of it all, before flipping himself over to glare at his ceiling. 

At least, he guessed his room was a little nicer now. After Mic-sensei had taken the scissors to his hair and dyed it a dark green like it was normal ("I let you pick the color!" "I thought you were joking!") the man had taken him out to pick up some essentials. Izuku now had a new bed set, a couple of outfits, and new school supplies he'd dumped onto the desk they’d set up for him. 

Honestly, he didn't get what all this effort was for. They were supposed to be working on sending him home. There's no way he was going to be here long enough to actually attend the start of the school year, right?

Right?

With a huff, he rolled himself off the bed. Probably better not to think about stuff like that. Aizawa-san had said the investigation was still ongoing and they would be notified of any updates. These things just took time. 

But how much time? He grouched, making his way to the kitchen, scrubbing his fingers through his shorn hair. Even if the color was weird, he did have to admit the undercut Mic-sensei had given was pretty cool. Usually, his mom just trimmed his hair so they wouldn't have to spend money on a cut. So while he was still getting used to the sudden breeze on his neck, he did have to admit he liked it. 

Izuku didn't bother looking into the kitchen cupboards -- the man didn't even have soy sauce to keep in them! -- and went straight for the fridge. No matter how many times he opened it, the contents were still made up of jelly packs, protein shakes, and pre-packaged bentos from the convenience store. Which wasn't bad and he should be grateful for the food, but come on. Even Aizawa-san had to get sick of this stuff eventually right? Maybe he just didn't know how to cook? 

Shaking his head, Izuku let the door shut behind him with a thump, changing his attention to the rest of the apartment. 

It was still pretty early in the afternoon and he wasn't used to being here during the day. Usually, they'd stay at UA until late in the evening before coming back to dig into their bentos for dinner. Izuku was usually too brain dead after that for much else except to shower and sleep. But the exams had ended early today, since there hadn't been a physical exam to proctor, and Izuku was wide awake and bored. 

Izuku didn't understand a lot of what was happening in mainstream media, so the TV only held his attention for so long, and having it on felt almost intrusive with how quiet the apartment usually was anyway. Aizawa-san himself usually only watched the news, and those instances had been few and far between with how much time he spent working on his laptop. Izuku guessed he could ask to spend time surfing the net, but he felt weird for asking to use Aizawa-san's laptop. And besides, he could see the hero from his open bedroom door, already wrapped up in his sleeping bag, knocked out on the bed--

Oh my god, this was his chance!

***

Izuku grinned, a victorious little hop in his step as the grocery bags swung from his arm.

With some of the spending money Mic-sensei had slipped him, he was able to get the ingredients for an easy but real dinner tonight. And he bet once Aizawa-san saw he was making dinner there was no way he'd get in trouble for his surprise trip to the store. In fact, the hero was probably still asleep -- Izuku bet he didn't even notice he was gone!

Sticking his hands into his pockets, Izuku enjoyed the warm, smug feeling in his chest as he took his time walking back to the apartment. 

Ok, so he was actually just observing everyone around him whose quirks had physical manifestations because there were so many and all so different, but it wasn't like he was openly staring! It was totally casual! 

It also made it really easy to notice the crowd gathering down the block. Izuku wrinkled his nose as he got closer, the smell of smoke getting heavier in the air. 

"...poor thing…"

"The heroes are here, they'll do something!"

"...one powerful quirk. Kid's something else…"

Izuku couldn't get a good look from the back of the crowd. He could see the plumes of smoke crawling into the air, but a quick glance down the street confirmed the fire department hadn't arrived yet. Brows furrowed, he began to push his way towards the front. He thought he heard that heroes were here? Were they handling the fire instead? 

Squeezing past the remaining people in the front, Izuku could see there were a handful of people in colorful outfits keeping the crowd back -- those had to be the heroes. Turning to the source of the chaos, Izuku watched a giant green blob that looked like something straight out of an old horror film set off explosions and set fire to the storefronts around it. 

Wait. Izuku squinted, trying to see past the smoke. 

Dread twisted in his gut as he realized with horror it wasn't the blob setting off the fires, but the kid trapped inside the blob. 

"A kid -- there's a kid!" Izuku twisted about, trying to see how close the heroes were and how could they not have noticed -- 

"They called for back-up," the crowd chattered around him. "With a quirk like that, what else could they do?"

"What?!" Izuku demanded, turning his attention back to the blob. It was a blob! How freaking difficult -- 

Bloodshot, red eyes locked with his own. Wide. Wild. And he was back in that room, back in that alley screaming for help that wasn't coming. 

"Kid! Get back here!"

Izuku was already charging forward, a yell ripping from his throat he couldn't even believe was coming from him. 

It caught the attention of the thing, eyes and teeth swimming around to meet him. 

"Ooh, another meat sack? I've got room for two!" the blob cackled, Izuku now close enough to make out its face.

To identify his target. 

Gripping the grocery bags firmly in both hands, he raised it up over his right shoulder. With a cry, he brought the bags down diagonally across his body and nailed it in the eye. Ignoring its pained howl, Izuku let the momentum from his first strike carry the bags up to his opposite shoulder and slashed them down again.

The bags couldn't handle the second impact, breaking open on the monster's face. It shrunk back with a scream as flour and baking powder exploded and immediately caked into the slime. 

Releasing the kid with a disgusting slurp, Izuku reached out to grab onto his hand and pulled him close. 

"I've got you!" He cried, watching with mounting panic as the blond-haired kid coughed and hacked up disgusting globs of goo. "C'mon!" 

"What did you do to me?!" The thing screamed behind them, sloughing off the ruined parts of its body. "That's my ticket out of here! You're mine!"

He hauled the blond around in front, pushing him forward. "Keep going!"

"Fuck you!"

In retrospect, that was a bad idea. The blond stumbled, and Izuku, unprepared for the sudden stop, crashed into his back and took them tumbling to the floor. 

A furtive glance over his shoulder told Izuku the slime had rallied and was now surging above them like a wave, ready to crash down and engulf them both.

The crowd screamed. They had been so close!

Izuku threw himself over the blond, using his body to cover his head and shut his eyes tight. 

"NEVER FEAR! WHY?!"

They bounced as the ground shuddered beneath them. Izuku cracked his eyes open to peek back. A man built like a tank stood between them and the monster, arm hauled back for a punch. 

"I AM HERE!"

***

Ringing. A pause as the line connects. "What?"

"Ah, Eraserhead? Detective Tsukauchi. We have...a bit of a problem."

Unintelligible grumbling. Rustling of sheets. "The investigation?"

"Not quite. But I, ah, do need you to come and pick up Midoriya-kun."

"...what."

"He's been involved in a villain attack unrelated to his case --"

"What?"

***

"What you did was real stupid, kid. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking there was a whole lot of nothing going on to help!" Izuku snapped, keeping his chin lifted partially in defiance, and partially because the hero in front of him was twice his size and he wouldn't be able to maintain eye-contact otherwise. 

The hero scowled down at him. "There were professionals on scene --"

"Doing what?!"

"Maintaining the perimeter --"

"All of you?! He was drowning!"

"FUCK YOU! I DIDN'T NEED YOUR HELP!"

"Regardless," the hero hissed, "what did you think you, a teenager and civilian, were going to do to help? You must have some quirk to be so arrogant."

"Shows what you know," Izuku sniped back. "I don't have a quirk!"

"Don't have -- you're quirkless?"

"HAH?!"

"Kid, what good did you think you were going to do? Without a quirk, you just became a second victim!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. But what were you doing while I was saving that kid's life?"

"YOU DIDN'T DO SHIT!"

"Get over yourself, kid. You're old enough to face reality. There were heroes on-site with quirks that had to pull back. What did you have to use against a quirk like that?"

"Basic self-defense," Izuku growled out, feeling the flush of anger run down his neck. "Which is exactly what I used to get him off the kid! Maybe you're the one who needs to get over himself!" 

Agitated, the hero visibly gathered himself, gearing up for round two no doubt, before they were cut off by a familiar voice. 

"Death Arms," Aizawa-san approached, gaze focused solely on Izuku. "I'll take it from here."

"You know this kid, Eraser?"

"Unfortunately," Aizawa-san glowered. Izuku's stomach dropped, but he stubbornly met his gaze. 

"Eraser, this kid--"

"I've been briefed," Aizawa-san cut him off. Clearly hearing the dismissal in his voice, the hero clicked his tongue in Izuku's direction before finally excusing himself. 

Aizawa-san turned to address the blond-haired kid. "Your mother has already been contacted--"

"YOU CALLED THAT OLD HAG?!"

"--she'll be here shortly. When she arrives, you will be released into her custody and are free to go.

"Midoriya," hard eyes turned to him. "Follow me." 

***

It had been a quiet walk back to the apartment, the door clicking shut behind them almost ominously. 

Izuku swallowed against his nerves, hands clenched at his sides. He’d done the right thing by stepping in and he was going to stick by it! 

He still flinched when Aizawa-san held his hand out to him, palm up. Izuku eyed it like it was going to grow teeth and bite him. 

“Give me your hand.”

Eyes flicking between the open palm and Aizawa-san’s blank stare, Izuku hesitantly held it out to him. 

Faster than his eyes could track, Aizawa-san’s hand latched onto his hand with a grip that bordered on painful. Izuku squawked, attempting to jerk his hand back futilely. Aizawa-san’s other hand came up and snapped a black plastic bracelet around his wrist before releasing him altogether. 

Izuku stumbled back, pulling his wrist up to his face. The bracelet was nondescript and seamless, and Izuku watched it shrink to lay flush against his skin. A whirring noise could be heard coming from the bracelet, cutting off as a small, green light began to blink steadily to life. 

Izuku gaped at Aizawa-san. “What did you do to me?!”

“Evidently,” Aizawa-san drawled, “you cannot be trusted to stay put. That,” he gestured to Izuku’s wrist, “is a GPS monitor. If a second attempt is made to leave your designated areas, myself and Detective Tsukauchi will be notified immediately.” 

“You’re kidding!” Izuku cried, feeling around the bracelet for a way to take it off. “You’re treating me like a criminal!”

“No,” Aizawa-san disagreed, arms crossed. “We treated you like an adult and you broke our trust. That is your new children’s harness.”

Izuku growled, giving up on the bracelet and turning on Aizawa-san. “This is ridiculous! I went to the grocery store!”

“Without notice or permission. ” Aizawa-san was suddenly in front of him, and even though he wasn’t nearly as tall as Death Arms, Izuku found that he was a thousand times more intimidating. “Do you not understand the position you’re in? You’re the target in an open investigation. You’ve been assigned to me as my ward for your protection.”

“But not to be watched 24/7! And the whole point of the dye and haircut was so I wouldn’t be recognized!”

“That was a precautionary measure, not an absolute solution.” 

Izuku threw his hands up in frustration. “Everything was fine! You wouldn’t have even noticed I was gone if I hadn’t stepped in to help that kid! It’s like you’re punishing me for being a good person!”

“Yes. That,” Aizawa-san stepped back, dragging a hand tiredly over his eyes. “And now your face is being run on every local news outlet in the area. Exactly what we didn’t need.” 

“That’s not my fault!”

Aizawa-san visibly took a slow, deep breath. “What,” he finally asked, hand still covering his eyes, “was so important, you left without telling me?”

“I’m sick of convenience store food! I was going to make okonomiyaki for dinner for us tonight! But don’t worry, that’s the last time I try to do anything nice ever again!”

Izuku stormed past Aizawa-san and to his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. He snatched up his pillow and screamed into it. 

Izuku hated it here.

Chapter Text

"You've stolen his love from me."

Aizawa side-eyed Hizashi, choosing to turn his attention back to his work instead of engaging. 

"Shouta," Hizashi cried, leaning up against Aizawa's desk. "My sunshine boy has gone frigid. I haven't gotten a smile out of him in days. Apologize, you brute." 

"No."

The staff at UA, already well acquainted with Hizashi's dramatics, didn't bat an eye at his wailing. 

Aizawa had known exactly what Hizashi was referring to as soon as he'd brought up the kid. Since his incident with the slime villain, and the consequences after, Midoriya had responded by giving everyone the silent treatment. 

To his credit, once Aizawa had realized the root of the problem had derived from needing fresher groceries in the house -- and hadn't that gotten him in enough trouble once Nemuri found out -- he had made the effort to go shopping and actually use his rice cooker. He'd cooked dinner almost every night and packaged the leftovers in the fridge for lunches the next day. He'd even tried his hand at the okonomiyaki the kid had wanted. 

And Midoriya had stubbornly refused to eat any of it. If Aizawa had cooked it, touched it, or had in any way shape or form helped to prepare it, Midoriya would not eat it. Every day for almost a week, he'd snubbed Aizawa's every offer of decent food and only ate the jelly packs or protein shakes. 

Though he'd graciously accepted the meal's Lunch Rush had started to drop off for him in the afternoons. Aizawa was grateful he hadn't subjected himself to a completely liquid diet. Midoriya had already lost some weight from his boycotting. 

Aizawa could only try to breathe through his frustration. 

"Have you really not talked with the kid since?" Now calmed, Hizashi was back to casually leaning against his desk, arms folded and full attention directed at Aizawa. 

"I'm being punished with the silent treatment," Aizawa drawled, flipping sharply through a student profile. "He won't leave his room unless it's to come here."

"And you're sure that's not just because you're rubbing off on him?" Hizashi dodged the jab aimed at his side and kicked at the legs of Aizawa's chair in retaliation. 

"He's throwing a tantrum," Aizawa grumbled, leaning back in his seat. "He'll realize he can't survive off jelly packs alone and get over it."

"How hypocritical of you." Aizawa chose to ignore that comment, pointedly turning back to his desk. Hizashi sighed. "Don't you think--"

"The tracker stays."

" --alright, it stays. Yeesh. I'm just trying to say I don't think the issue is the tracker or the food -- even though I think your attempts at cooking are adorable and well overdue. I think the issue is that you approached the whole thing as Eraserhead."

"I am Eraserhead."

"You know what I mean," Hizashi chided. "You've worked with teenagers and victims long enough to know it's not always what you say, but how you say it. Kid’s been through a lot and is still going through a lot. Right now, he doesn't need the grumpy Pro Hero Eraserhead." 

He leaned over to grip and jostle Aizawa's shoulder warmly. "He needs Hizashi's best friend, Aizawa Shouta."

"Don't lump us together."

"Shouta! Don't be so mean!"

***

Izuku wasn’t hungry. He wasn’t. 

He had his head down on his desk, staring out of the classroom window and thoroughly ignoring the worksheet he should have completed already. Mic-sensei had left a while ago, probably to give him ‘some space’ and to ‘respect his boundaries.’

With the GPS bracelet still locked on his wrist, Izuku could only scoff. 

It had been a whole week since Aizawa-san had slapped it on him. A whole week. So stupid. 

And what’s worse is Aizawa-san had been trying to bribe him into a better mood ever since. Cooking and packing lunches like Izuku could be bought so easily. He knew what the hero was trying to do and until this bracelet came off he could just forget about it. If Izuku had to survive off of jelly packs for the rest of his stay here then he would! 

His stomach growled in protest. 

Izuku… was a little hungry. 

And, you know, who cares if he leaves the classroom? If it was such a big deal they could always just track him down with the stupid bracelet.

Indignant and decided, Izuku pushed out of his seat and made his way out. He hadn’t actually been given a tour of the whole campus, but Mic-sensei had taken him to the cafeteria a couple of times before and Izuku bet he could find his way on his own now. 

Head down and hands stuffed in his pockets, Izuku stomped his way down the hall. 

The hero, Lunch Rush, had been around for lunches recently, and since he hadn’t technically been involved with Izuku’s lockdown, Izuku didn’t mind accepting the lunches he had made. Lunch Rush had seemed really nice anyway, so he bet he wouldn’t mind sneaking Izuku some snacks. 

Lost to his own thoughts, Izuku didn’t notice the figure turning the corner until it was too late. 

They collided with an oof, Izuku stumbling back while his victim was knocked to the floor, papers flying. Blue eyes in a sunken face blinked owlishly back up at him as his papers fluttered to the ground around him. 

“I am so sorry.” Horrified, Izuku dropped to his knees and started piling up the papers. Now that he was eye level, Izuku could see that the man was scary thin and elderly looking and oh god he knocked over a senior citizen. Izuku was a monster.

“It’s quite alright, my boy,” the man, with a raspy but surprisingly deep voice, waved him off and helped Izuku gather the rest of the papers. Missing Izuku’s awkward outstretched offer to help him to his feet, the man stood on his own. 

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Izuku fretted, handing over the rest of the papers and scanning him for any injuries. 

“I’m sure,” the man assured him, blue eyes locked to his face. “Young man, are you a student here?”

“Uh… maybe?” Because how was Izuku supposed to explain his situation to a stranger? The answer: he wasn’t. 

“Maybe?”

“Well, I mean, I took the exam? So… maybe?”

“Ah, you’re waiting on the results then. If you’re allowed to wander the campus already, I’m sure you have nothing to worry about,” he chuckled, patting Izuku’s shoulder comfortingly. 

“Uh… right. Thanks.” 

Oh god, did it sound like Izuku was lying? It so sounded like he was lying. He’d never thought about what he was supposed to say to other people about him being here, because he thought he wouldn’t still be here at this point, and now the silence had been going on for too long and he was still being stared at, should he just run -- 

“What’s your name, young man?”

Was he supposed to tell people his real name? He hadn’t been prepped for this. “Uhm, Midoriya Izuku.”

“A pleasure, young Midoriya. I’m Yagi Toshinori. Where were you headed? Perhaps I can walk you there.”

“You don’t have to!” Izuku panicked, eyes darting to the side for an escape. 

“Nonsense. I’d be happy to!” 

Without a reason to say no, Izuku let Yagi-san fall into step beside him, and the two of them made their way to the cafeteria.  

“You know, you look familiar,” Yagi-san started conversationally, peering down at him. “You were the young man who intervened during that villain incident last week, were you not?”

Izuku cringed but nodded. If Aizawa-san knew he was getting recognized he would never take the bracelet off. 

“I thought I recognized you,” Yagi-san continued rather happily. “I was there that day. That was a very heroic thing you did, rushing in to save that young boy.”

Izuku couldn’t help the face he made. “You’re the only one who seems to think so.”

“Oh?” 

“Yeah,” Izuku sighed, eyes set firmly on the ground. “I got in a lot of trouble.”

“I see. I’m sure the heroes on scene gave you a rather stern lecture about your safety.”

Izuku rolled his eyes. “Yeah, for like, a second. It felt more like they were trying to justify why them not doing anything was the right thing to do.” 

Having reached the cafeteria, Yagi-san ushered him inside and to a table, waving a greeting at Lunch Rush who had popped his head out at the sound of their entrance. 

Izuku crossed his arms and sunk into his seat. Thinking about what those heroes said to him was putting him in a bad mood all over again. 

“That is quite frustrating,” Yagi-san agreed, folding his hands on the table. “Do you know, there’s something every great hero has in common. A story from when they were young, perhaps, but they almost always agree on one thing. And that is when they saw someone in need their bodies always acted first. Is that not similar to what you experienced that day, young Midoriya?”

Izuku could only shrug. “Maybe?”

“You’re rather fond of that word, aren’t you, my boy?”

Yagi-san laughed good-naturedly at Izuku’s flushed face. They were interrupted briefly as Lunch Rush came around to leave a tray of snacks for them, giving Yagi-san a firm pat to his back with encouragement to eat his fill. 

“Yes, yes,” the elderly man agreed with a smile, turning back to watch as Izuku started in on the snacks. “Would you like to tell me more about that day?”

“Not really,” Izuku grumbled around a mouthful of food. “Aizawa-san grounded me for it, so…” 

“Aizawa-san, you say?” Engrossed with his food, Izuku missed the way Yagi-san was appraising him. “Well, that does explain a few things.”

“A few things? Like what?”

“Well,” he began, cheeks dusting a soft pink, “he gave a rather... thorough review, shall we say, of the heroes on scene that day. He has a rather straightforward way of phrasing things.”

“Aizawa-san did?” Izuku furrowed his brows in question, looking up to Yagi-san. “Why?”

“Young Aizawa is a very accomplished hero, my boy,” Yagi-san explained. “When he files a report critiquing the actions of a hero on scene, it carries a lot of weight. He is your guardian, yes?”

Izuku hesitated only slightly before nodding. 

“I’m sure seeing that it was you who was endangered because of the inaction of heroes that day only upset him more.”

Izuku frowned. “He didn’t tell me about that.”

“He’s a rather taciturn fellow,” Yagi-san agreed, now picking over the snacks himself. “He puts more stock in action than words.” 

Izuku thought back to all of the meals Aizawa-san had cooked and packed for him. The groceries that they now had in the apartment. But the bracelet was a rather large action he had taken, too, and it’s not like Izuku could just brush that off at this point. 

But, maybe, Izuku could start eating Aizawa-san’s cooking. He knew Aizawa-san was always busy, and taking the time out to cook was pretty nice of him, he guessed. 

Izuku pouted. “If he was on my side from the beginning, he should’ve just said so.”

Yagi-san only grinned.

(Yagi-san didn’t mention how young Aizawa had also made a point to complain about his young ward’s eating habits in front of Lunch Rush. Lunch Rush would never ignore someone, especially a child, that needed feeding. Perhaps that would be a conversation for another time.) 

***

“Ready to go, kid?”

Izuku swung his backpack over his shoulder and turned to meet Aizawa-san at the door. He had been distracted ever since his conversation with Yagi-san that afternoon. Izuku still felt like he wasn’t in the wrong for stepping in, but also there were a few things he probably could have done differently before the incident? Maybe? 

And if what Yagi-san had said was true, Aizawa-san had stood up for him.

He fell into step beside Aizawa-san. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow in the hallways. 

Izuku cleared his throat. “Uhm, Aizawa-san?”

If the hero was surprised by the sudden address, he didn’t show it. “Yes?”

“I… I could cook dinner tonight. If, uh, you want?”

Aizawa-san was silent for a moment. “That would be nice, Midoriya. Thank you.”

Chapter Text

Izuku's breath whooshed from his mouth as his body hit the mat. 

The rush of adrenaline and dizzying feeling from being flipped was almost comforting in how familiar it was. Izuku had started training in martial arts when he was ten years old and had bounced around between a few gyms and disciplines. He had been at his most recent gym the longest, and his coach had even let him help teach some of the kids’ classes on the weekends. 

Even with his years of experience and the amount of practice he'd been getting in with Aizawa-san, the hero still got the better of him every time! 

A wide grin cut across his face as he looked up to meet Aizawa-san's steady gaze. "Again! Show me one more time!"

Aizawa-san only sighed, pulling his arms over his head in a lazy stretch. "It's late, problem child. We have an early start tomorrow."

Izuku pouted, hoisting himself to his feet and following in his own cool-down stretches. 

"You're ready for tomorrow?"

Izuku shrugged, not meeting the hero's eyes but keeping his tone light. "It's just school, right? It can't be that different from what I'm used to."

Aizawa-san hummed in answer. "If you find that it is, or you get overwhelmed, you can tell Mic or me. You know where my classroom is."

"Thanks," Izuku shot an amused grin his way, "but I think I'll be fine." 

And Izuku was sure he would be. Out of everything that he'd gone through these past two months, his first day at a new school was not high on his intimidation list. 

Two months. Yikes. 

While Izuku hadn't exactly imagined any of this happening to him, he had kind of thought they would've been able to send him home by now. They really didn't know of a quirk or have some kind of equipment to send him back? It was two hundred years in the future -- you couldn't tell him no one's tried to build a time machine yet.

If he really was stuck here, what was he supposed to do about his own life? What about his own school and his own friends?

What about his mom? 

Izuku shook his head, forcing himself to focus on his stretches. Best not to think about that right now. 

Aizawa-san threw a towel at him, whapping him in the face and breaking him out of his concentration. "Go wash up. I'll lock up the gym."

Izuku pulled the towel off from where it had landed on his head. He stuck his tongue out at Aizawa-san's back.

"I saw that."

Izuku squeaked and made a break for the locker rooms. 

***

Closing his laptop, Aizawa rubbed at his tired eyes and noted the time. He'd been up later than he anticipated, but not by much.

Pushing up from his coffee table, he made the rounds to turn off the lights and prepare for bed. He paused in front of Midoriya's room. The door was left ajar, and he pushed it open wider to check on the kid. 

Midoriya was knocked out on his side, scrunched up under his bed covers. His brows were furrowed and there was tension in his jaw. 

Aizawa closed the door with a soft click, rubbing a hand tiredly over his face. It had been almost two months since Aizawa had picked up the kid in an alleyway. 

Two months, a dead body, and no leads. 

Their one suspect had been a muscle for hire and couldn't give them any more information than what they had already gathered on their own. The data from the drives and computers they'd found in the warehouse had been wiped clean, and the medical equipment, while standard, couldn't be traced back to a buyer. 

The body of Hisakawa Miku had left them with more questions than answers. On paper, Hisakawa's quirk should not have been anywhere near powerful enough to pull off a kidnapping that spanned across decades. Her public records indicated she was nothing more than the average Japanese citizen. She had been reported missing after not showing up to her office job from three prefectures over, almost six months prior to Midoriya’s kidnapping. 

The autopsy and toxicology reports gave them a small glimpse into the suffering the woman had gone through since her own apparent kidnapping. At the time her body had been recovered, there had been more poison running through her veins than blood. 

A poison that, while not the same, had been grimly close in it’s makeup to the drug notoriously known as Trigger. 

Aizawa and the kid had met with Tsukauchi multiple times to go over the investigation since their initial meeting in the hospital. Midoriya had gone over his story backward and forwards with the detective in the hope that any new details he remembered could give them a further clue into who was responsible for this. Aizawa watched the kid's hope dim further and further after every meeting with no results. 

The kid hadn't even asked about a way to get home after their last meeting. 

He scrubbed the hand over his face roughly once more and turned for his room. Now was not the time to get worked up. 

Picking up his laptop, he padded over to the small desk in his bedroom. Turning on the computer and taking a seat, he pulled up another Trigger casefile from the archives.

He had time to go through one more before bed. 

***

Izuku could almost confidently say that he was used to quirks now. Sure, some of them still took him by surprise -- Izuku liked to think he had a decent imagination, but he wasn’t that creative. But, you know, overall pretty much used to them now. 

So he wasn’t weirded out because of the ridiculously diverse students he watched slowly flood the campus from the window of his new classroom. It was more that there was anyone here at all that was putting him off. The school had been near-silent the entire time he had been here, only having spent time in the one room and the gym after hours with Aizawa-san. 

Having so many people and so much noise in the once quiet space was something he didn’t really think about needing to get used to. He guessed this was just going to be a part of his new life now, kind of like quirks in general or even the bracelet on his wrist. 

Oh yeah. That was still a thing.

But he didn’t hate it anymore! Now it was completely voluntary. 

Well, mostly voluntary. He was still required to wear it whenever he left the apartment, because it apparently had some kind of alien technology that would pinpoint his location down to the last hair on his head if he was ever kidnapped again, and because it had a built-in panic button for him to use to call for help. 

But the same night Izuku had offered to cook dinner for the first time, Aizawa-san had responded in kind by keying Izuku into the system. Now Izuku had total control of taking the bracelet on and off. Plus, he wasn't even restricted to any particular zones anymore!

So, you know. Improvement. 

The classroom around him gradually began to fill with students and chatter. Izuku was distracted from it, for the most part, sitting in the back corner at his desk and staring out the window. 

With a few minutes til the bell, he startled at the thump of a backpack as it was deposited at the desk in front of him. Izuku faced forward, looking up at his new deskmate. 

The kid was tall. And purple. His hair poofed nearly straight up and Izuku wondered idly if that was natural or if he styled it that way like Mic-sensei did. 

Purple eyes met green, and the kid slowly raised a brow. “Can I help you?”

Izuku flushed and tried to save his social bumbling. “You’re purple!” Nailed it. 

The other brow joined the first. “You’re green.”

“What?” Izuku’s brows scrunched before -- oh, right! “I mean, yes! My hair! It’s green. Like a turtle.” Izuku forced a laugh, trailing off in despair. 

Maybe, if he left right now, Mic-sensei would take pity on him and let him hide in the teacher’s lounge where he wouldn’t be allowed to interact with the rest of humanity ever again. 

The kid blinked back at him. “Right.”

“Right,” Izuku repeated, like the eloquent mastermind he was. “I’m Izuku. Uh, Midoriya Izuku.”

“Shinsou Hitoshi.” He tilted his head, eyes flickering over Izuku’s posture before giving a light snort. “Relax. It’s just the first day.”

Izuku nodded as Shinsou-kun took his seat, choosing not to respond at the risk of sounding like an even bigger mess than he was. The bell rang and Mic-sensei bounded into the room with a quirked, “ Good morning, listeners! ” 

Izuku took a deep breath. It’s just school. He could do this. 

***

The bell rang for lunch and Mic-sensei scooted out of the room. Izuku gathered his bento and his courage. Now was the time for redemption. 

“Did you bring a bento, Shinsou-kun?” 

The boy in question turned in his seat, glancing from Izuku’s bento to his face. “Yeah?”

Izuku brightened. “Did you want to eat together?” he managed to ask like a normal human being. Yes! Success!

Shinsou-kun stared back at him. “Why?”

Oh god, he spoke too soon. 

“Because I’m hungry?” Which was true but not the point Izuku get it together. 

Shinsou-kun huffed a laugh, shaking his head and looking back at Izuku. “Sure. Why not?”

Happy with himself, Izuku grinned and opened up his bento as Shinsou-kun turned his seat around to eat off of Izuku’s desk. 

“So,” Izuku started to ask around a mouthful of rice, “what do you do for fun?”

Shinsou-kun shrugged, picking at his own lunch. “I mostly just keep to myself,” he answered with a wry smile, privately amused. “Exercise, homework. The usual.”

Izuku perked up. He could exercise! “What do you like to do for exercise?”

“Running, mostly. I have some weights at home I’ll use.” He shrugged again. He did that a lot, Izuku noticed. 

“Have you ever tried martial arts before?” Izuku asked eagerly. 

“Uh,” Shinsou-kun looked up from his food quizzically, “no?”

“You should! It’s awesome! I can teach you if you want? Have you ever heard of Muay Thai? Or Jui-Jitsu?”

Shinsou-kun lowered his chopsticks slowly. “You train in martial arts?”

“Yeah! I started when I was a kid, so I’ve been doing it for years now. You should give it a try! It’ll be fun!”

Purple eyes studied Izuku’s earnest expression for an awkwardly long moment. “Why?”

“Uhm,” Izuku thought he had made his point clear? “Because it’s fun?”

“No, I mean, why are you training? And why do you want to teach me?” His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You trying to be a hero?”

“Uh, no? Do I have to be a hero to like martial arts?” Was this some kind of obscure law Izuku hadn’t been taught yet? He feels like that’s something Aizawa-san would have mentioned already though… 

Shinsou-kun stared a moment longer, slowly shaking his head and turning back to his food. “No, I guess not.”

Izuku pushed his own food around nervously. He could still salvage this! “Did you want to be a hero, Shinsou-kun?”

Shinsou-kun stiffened up, glaring up at Izuku from beneath his brow. “And if I do?”

Not exactly an enthusiastic response, but he could work with this. “That’s awesome, Shinsou-kun,” Izuku encouraged. “You should definitely learn some self-defense then. Better safe than sorry!”

The other boy only rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the advice, but my quirk’s got it covered.”

“Oh yeah?” Izuku perked up. “What kind of quirk do you have?”

Shinsou-kun put down his chopsticks and crossed his arms. The look in his purple eyes was suddenly defensive and almost challenging. “My quirk is brainwashing.” 

Izuku gave a low, impressed whistle. “That’s wicked. Wait!” He smacked his palms down on his desk and leaned forward eagerly. “That means you can read my mind, right? What am I thinking of right now?”

Shinsou-kun had leaned as far back as his seat would allow so he could avoid Izuku’s suddenly very close face. His mouth opened slightly in disbelief. “That’s telepathy .” 

Izuku felt the unsaid but heavily implied ‘you idiot’ and sat back in his seat, flushing. “Oh.” He fidgeted with his hands nervously. “So, uh, how’s it work then?”

“It’s a psychological quirk,” he stated flatly. “If you respond to me, I can take complete control of you. You’d do anything I tell you to.”

“Whoa.” That was definitely cooler than telepathy. But still, Izuku tilted his head in confusion. “I mean, I can see why you’d feel safe with a quirk like that, but I don’t think that means you shouldn’t learn any self-defense. What if someone tries to grab you from behind? Stuff like that happens fast.”

Izuku would know. All his years of experience and he couldn’t even defend himself when it actually mattered. 

Shinsou-kun was staring back at him now, brows raised and eyes wide. “That’s it? I just told you I can brainwash you and you’re worried that I can’t defend myself?” 

“Self-defense is important, Shinsou-kun,” Izuku insisted. “Even if you’re not going into a profession that requires it, it’s a skill I think everyone should learn. You’ll never know when it will come in handy.” 

Purple studied green for a moment longer. Eventually, Shinsou-kun slowly shook his head, lips crooked in a small but genuine smile. 

Relaxing his posture, he picked his chopsticks back up. “You might have a point. What did you say you trained in again?”

Chapter Text

Aizawa’s new students scrambled to get away from him and back to the locker rooms. The lone student who had failed the quirk assessment -- the only one who hadn’t taken his terms or this task seriously --  was making their way in the opposite direction to the principal’s office. Aizawa watched their quivering shoulders and bowed head until they turned the corner and were blocked from his sight. 

Aizawa turned to glare over his shoulder. “You’re not nearly as discreet as you think you are.”

Japan’s Number One Hero, skinny and deflated, peeked sheepishly from around the building he was hiding behind. 

“Young Aizawa,” Yagi greeted as he joined Aizawa on the field. “I noticed your class was absent from the opening ceremony. I was merely curious.”

“I might not be a spotlight hero, but I’m not an idiot,” Aizawa came back evenly, maybe a shade harsher than was warranted. “Why are you observing my class?”

“Ah,” Yagi looked down guiltily. “You are aware this is my first year teaching. I had hoped to pick up a few ideas by watching you with your class.”

Aizawa hid his frown in the folds of his scarf. “You’re a terrible liar, All Might.”

Yagi winced. “So I’ve been told.”

When no further answer seemed forthcoming, Aizawa prompted, “And?”

“I --,” he paused, gathering his thoughts. “Your ward… he’s not in your class?”

“No,” Aizawa responded cooly, eyes narrowing in suspicion. 

Yagi paused, obviously waiting for more. At Aizawa’s silent refusal, he cleared his throat, venturing, “I didn’t notice Young Midoriya with Kan’s class either?”

Annoyed with the probing questions about his ward -- a kid that was far from being any of Yagi’s concern -- Aizawa snapped, “Get to the point, All Might.”

“Yes,” Yagi straightened up at Aizawa’s tone, the resolve of the Number One Hero steeling his spine. “Young Midoriya is not in the Heroics course. Why?”

“Not that it’s any of your concern,” Aizawa bit out, “but he didn’t take the exam.”

“Why not?” Yagi persisted. “Young Midoriya would make for an exemplary hero. From what I had witnessed at his involvement with the slime villain alone --”

“I’m aware,” Aizawa hissed out, remembering how the Number One hesitated until the last possible moment to swoop in and save the day. 

“Was he barred from taking the exam? I’ll admit I’m not aware of the full circumstances of his wardship, but if they prevented him from being able to sit the exam I’m sure my recommendation will --”

“He’s quirkless,” Aizawa snapped, watching as Yagi’s mouth clicked shut. He almost sneered at how effectively that stopped the flashy hero in his tracks. “He’s quirkless and he has been placed in General Education where he will stay.” Both for Midoriya’s own safety and Aizawa’s peace of mind. “If that is all, I have paperwork to complete.”

With his back to his fellow hero as he walked off, Aizawa didn't see the dawning realization in All Might’s blue eyes. If he had, he wouldn’t have liked it. Not one bit. 

***

Mic-sensei clapped his arm around Izuku's shoulders and began to steer him towards the teacher's lounge. Leaning his weight obnoxiously against Izuku, he grinned down and asked, "How'd my little social butterfly find his first day?"

The last bell had rung a while ago, and while there were handfuls of students still hanging around the campus, Izuku and Mic-sensei had been the last ones remaining in the Gen Ed classroom. Which is probably why Mic-sensei felt comfortable enough to hang off of him like this.

Izuku flushed. He really hoped he wouldn't embarrass him like this in front of his classmates. 

"It was fine." Izuku began to stagger as Mic-sensei leaned more and more weight onto him. "Welcome ceremonies haven't changed much. Shinsou-kun's cool and you're -- crushing. Me." 

"Buck up, squirt. I ain’t that heavy!"

Mic-sensei laughed at the whine of protest from Izuku, but straightened up for the rest of the walk, keeping Izuku tucked under his arm. 

"Hey, let's make a bet!" Mic-sensei announced suddenly. "How many students do you think grumpy old Eraser expelled today? Over ten? Less than ten?"

"Expelled?" Izuku looked up at him in confusion. "It's the first day?" 

"Oh, little listener. It's like you don't even know him." Mic-sensei tsked sympathetically. As the teacher's lounge came into view, he gave Izuku an excited shake. "Quick! More or less than ten?!"

"Uh… less?"

"You're on." Mic-sensei released him, just to snatch up his hand and give it a firm shake. With a wink, he threw open the door and cried, "Shouta!"

The groan from the sleeping bag in the corner was the only welcoming response he got. 

"Shouta," Mic-sensei crouched down to poke the bag. "How many did you expel today? More than ten? I've got a bet riding on this!"

"Go away."

"Shouta! Izuku bet, too! Tell him, Izuku!"

"You're gambling with my ward?"

"A wager, Shouta. A friendly wager! Totally above board. Now tell me if I'm right!"

Aizawa-san zipped the sleeping bag closed over his face. 

"Hey!" Mic-sensei started to pull and prod at the bag. "Coward! No hiding!"

Izuku turned away from the wrestling, bickering senseis on the floor, hoping to make eye contact with someone normal. As Izuku dithered between getting involved or running away, his decision was made for him when a familiar, bony hand clapped his shoulder.

Izuku turned with a grin. "Yagi-san!"

"Young Midoriya," the older man greeted warmly. Blue eyes smiled down at him before getting drawn to the scuffle on the floor. He cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. Actually, I had hoped to speak with you, my boy. Perhaps now that your guardian is preoccupied?” 

Izuku shrugged, following the older man out into the hallway. They only walked for a short distance before Yagi-san was ushering him into an empty meeting room. More at home in UA’s offices than probably any other student had a right to be, Izuku plopped himself comfortably on a couch, smiling as Yagi-san sat across from him. 

Izuku really liked Yagi-san. They hadn’t really been able to see each other too often after their first meeting, but there was something about the elderly man that made it easy to be around him. It was probably that he reminded Izuku of some of his more elderly neighbors that had doted on him growing up, and it both satisfied a soft part of him and fed into his longing for home. 

“How was the first day of school, Yagi-san?” Izuku asked genially, remembering one of the brief conversations they’d had about this being the man’s first year teaching. 

“Hm? Oh, fine, fine,” Yagi-san waved him off. He leaned in closer to Izuku, his sharp eyes trained on his face. “My boy, I actually wanted to speak with you about your education.”

Oh god. Please don’t be about more tutoring. “Uh, sure,” he stuttered. “What about it?”

“I hadn’t thought to ask you when we first met. After having witnessed your courageous acts myself, I had merely assumed,” Yagi-san went on, attention veering briefly to the single stripe of his uniform before snapping back to his face. “Young Midoriya, why did you not take the Heroics Entrance Exam?”

Izuku’s face scrunched up like a freckled question mark. “Because I took the General Education one?”

“Yes, but why?” Here, Yagi-san hesitated. “My boy, were you discouraged from taking the exam?”

“No?”

“You sound uncertain.”

“I mean, no!” Izuku flailed to correct himself. “ No, no one discouraged me.” If anything, they’d been a little too enthusiastic about his academics. “Why are you asking?”

“Do you recall how we first met, Young Midoriya?”

“Yes,” Izuku groused, heating up with the remembered embarrassment. “I knocked you over.”

Yagi-san’s lips quirked up with a secretive, almost indulgent smile. “Perhaps I should be more specific. Do you remember that the first time I saw you was when you intervened during that villain incident? During our conversation in the cafeteria, I told you that all great heroes had one thing in common."

"That they act before they think," Izuku nodded. 

"That's exactly it!" Yagi-san leaned forward. "A hero is someone who is unafraid to act. And you, my boy, were the only one to act that day. You've already demonstrated that you have what it takes to become a great hero."

Izuku...wasn't sure what to say. Thank you? He guessed? Izuku hadn't been prepared for the heavy turn this conversation was taking, and he felt like he was missing something important here.

As Izuku panicked for the proper response, Yagi-san gentled his intensity. "Young Midoriya, I must be honest and tell you that I had a conversation with Aizawa this afternoon." His voice, when next he spoke, was careful but warm. "He revealed to me that you are quirkless, my boy."

A beat passed. Then two, before a confused but honest, "Yeah? And?"

Yagi-san sat back into the couch, hands waving in front of him in a fluster. "I only bring it up to let you know that I am aware -- that is, for this discussion, I only meant --"

Izuku flapped his own arms in response. “That was rude! I didn’t mean -- I just meant it’s not a big deal? That he told you?” He reigned in the flailing, fanning his too warm face. “So you, uh, wanted to talk to me about it?”

“Well, yes. Though not specifically, I suppose,” Yagi-san rubbed his neck awkwardly. “I bring it up only because I felt that it was important to be honest that I’m aware.”

“Ok?” Izuku still felt like he was missing something here. 

“My boy, when I said that you could be a hero, I very much meant it.” The intensity was starting to creep back into his blue gaze. “You have the heart and the instincts. I fear the only thing that’s preventing you from realizing your full potential is a lack of opportunity. Midoriya Izuku,” he leaned in towards Izuku, pinning him to his seat with the weight of his stare. “Do you want to be a hero?”

The door to the office slams open, and both Yagi-san and Izuku startle at the noise. Their heads turn as one towards the door where a rumpled and a very not happy Aizawa-san glares at them.

His eyes flash red. "Midoriya, meet me at the gate. I have something to discuss with Yagi." 

Yup, definitely not happy. Izuku grabs his bag and bobs a quick bow to Yagi-san. He almost feels sorry for leaving him alone with Aizawa-san. Not sorry enough to stick around, but almost. 

Without glancing back, he bails.

***

Izuku had parked himself outside, sitting on one of the cement planters to wait for Aizawa-san. He’d been furiously writing in his journal since he’d sat himself down. 

That conversation with Yagi-san was...weird. He guessed it was kind of flattering that Yagi-san thought he was hero material. The compliment definitely seemed to mean a lot more to Yagi-san than it did to Izuku, but that could just be another culture difference Izuku just didn't understand yet? In a world filled with heroes, that should have been a pretty common compliment to get, right? 

Izuku tapped his pen against his lip. Maybe it wasn't so much a cultural difference, but a product of his current environment? He was in a school widely acclaimed for its heroics course. Even Shinsou-kun had asked him if he wanted to be a hero. Izuku suddenly felt silly, getting weirded out over a heroic compliment in a heroics school--

His journal was snatched angrily from his hand. Izuku’s eyes snapped up, a protest already on his lips.

Familiar red eyes glared down at him from a head of spikey blond hair. Izuku's protest died almost instantly as his gaze darted to his mouth and -- yup, Izuku definitely remembered that snarl. 

“It’s you--!”

“WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?!”

“Uh,” Izuku stammered, jumping to his feet so the blond wasn’t looming over him. “Like, in general or…?”

“Shut up!” The blond snapped, taking an aggressive step towards him. “You’re not in 1-A and those chucklefucks in 1-B wouldn’t give me a straight fucking answer!”

“Chuckle what?”

“Think you can look down on me from 1-B, hah?! Think you’re hot shit now?!”

“Uh, I don’t think we’re on the same page here --”

“I’m gonna be the best. Some 1-B bastard couldn’t stand a chance!”

“But I’m not in 1-B…”

The blond abruptly grabbed Izuku by the collar and hauled him up close to his face. “WHAT?!”

“I said I’m not in 1-B?” Izuku gripped the blond’s wrists firmly, but decided to wait just a little while longer before acting. “Are you sure it’s me you’re looking for?”

“Fucking positive,” he snarled, fists tightening in Izuku’s shirt. “You’re that quirkless fuck who couldn’t mind his own fucking business!”

“Rude.” Izuku shifted his weight. “I was only trying to help.”

“I didn’t need your fucking help!”

“Sure you didn’t,” Izuku agreed breezily. “Anyway, you were looking for me? Why’d you think I’d be in 1-B?”

“I’m not an idiot! Of course you’re in 1-B. That’s the only other heroics class, you moron!”

“There’s only two classes?” In a school this huge meant for heroics? Izuku would have to write that down in his journal to ask Mic-sensei about later. 

“Anyway,” Izuku continued quickly when the blond’s face started to turn an ugly red. “I’m sorry you went to all that trouble, but I’m not in the heroics course. I’m in General Education.”

“YOU’RE FUCKING LYING!”

“I’m really not? I’m in Mic-sensei’s homeroom class, 1-C.”

The kid dropped his hold on Izuku’s collar like he’d been burned. He took a step back, suspicion creeping onto his face as he eyed Izuku from head to toe. “So, what? Your pathetic ass failed the entrance exam and landed in Gen Ed?”

Izuku let out an impatient huff. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I didn’t take the Heroics entrance exam.”

“WHAT?!”

Izuku groaned, rubbing his face harshly. This conversation was seriously going nowhere. “You said you were looking for me. Did you need something?”

“You didn’t even take the exam? You…” The kid was looking at him in straight-up disbelief. “What do you mean you didn’t take the fucking exam?!”

Izuku made a face. “Was I supposed to?”

The kid lunged for his collar again. “You fucking --”

Izuku parried his reach and sidestepped him easily. Not expecting a reaction, the blond’s momentum carried him forward until he stumbled into the planter, arms windmilling to keep his balance. 

Izuku took the opportunity to snatch up the journal he’d so rudely dropped to the floor. “Look, I don’t mind talking with you, but let’s keep our hands to ourselves ok?”

“You-- ”

“How about you tell me what you actually want from me? Cause this is getting old.” 

The blond rounded on him. “I’m gonna be the best--”

“So you’ve said.”

“--and I’m gonna prove it to you! I’m gonna prove it to everyone! So, what?! You didn’t take the exam cause you’re scared?! Gave up before you even started to fuck around in Gen Ed instead, hah?!”

“Hey, the General Education entrance exam was hard--”

“HOW COULD YOU NOT EVEN TRY?!” He bellowed, chest heaving angrily in the quiet left from his outburst. Izuku could only stare with wide eyes at the sudden desperation in the angry, red eyes. 

“Midoriya. Bakugo.” The boys turned to face an unamused Aizawa-san. “Is there a problem here?”

Still reeling, Izuku slowly shook his head. “No…”

“Good.” He looked pointedly at the blond. “Go home.”

“Tch,” the blond, Bakugo, stormed off without glancing back. 

They both took a moment to watch him go. Once he’d passed through the gates, Aizawa-san turned to pick up Izuku’s yellow backpack from next to the planter and hand it to him.

“You’ve got a funny way of making friends, kid.”

“That looked friendly to you?”

Chapter Text

"Whoa -- cute bento, Shinsou-kun," Izuku commented with his mouthful, pointing his chopsticks at his friend's lunch. 

Shinsou-kun's cheeks pinked slightly as he shoved a kitty-cat decorated rice ball in his mouth. 

Izuku chuckled, pulling Shinsou-kun's lunch towards him to get a better look before it was demolished. "Hey, apple bunnies! I love those!"

Shinsou-kun smacked his hands away and pulled his lunch back towards him. His bright pink face scowled at his critter themed lunch like it had personally insulted him. 

"Did you make it yourself?" Izuku asked teasingly. 

"Shut up," Shinsou-kun sniped back half-heartedly, picking up an apple slice to munch on. "My dad makes my lunch." The scowl deepened. "He thinks he's funny."

Izuku could feel his eyes widening in surprise. "Your dad makes your lunch for you?" That was...actually really nice. "And he'll make faces for you? That's awesome. My mom would try to decorate my lunch when I was little, but just didn't have the time when I got older and she started working more."

Those lunches always tasted the best when he was younger. Probably because he'd always get to brag about it to his classmates in his own childish pride. But when his mom started working more, Izuku had started making his own lunches and he did not have the patience to decorate his own lunch. 

"We made it a competition on our birthdays though," Izuku shared. "I'd make her lunch on her birthday and she'd make me lunch on mine. She's better at making faces than I am, but I've been getting better."

"Oh. So you're a momma's boy." 

Izuku flicked some rice at Shinsou-kun as punishment. Shinsou-kun's smile was all teeth, but his embarrassed flush had started to fade and he put an apple bunny on Izuku's bento as an apology. 

"He sure made a lot, though," Izuku observed, munching on his apple slice. Shinsou-kun was a pretty lanky kid -- Izuku was surprised he had such a big appetite. 

"He made extra for, you know," an awkward cough to clear his throat, "after training today."

"Aww, Shinsou-kun!" Izuku beamed. "You're so loved!"

"You start spreading rumors like that and I'll murder you,” he remarked coolly, standing up. “Want anything from the vending machine?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

Shinsou-kun gave a firm nod, stalling awkwardly at his desk. Izuku watched him curiously, taking another bite of his lunch as he waited him out.

Shinsou-kun’s hand came up to rub the back of his neck. “The...extras. It’s for both of us.” He cleared his throat again as Izuku’s eyes got wide and teary-looking. “I’ll just...yeah.”

Izuku sniffed back his emotional reaction as Shinsou-kun power walked out of the room. Shinsou-kun was so nice.  

"Midoriya?"

Startled, Izuku looked up from his lunch to see a waifish looking boy with eyes slightly larger than normal. A by-product of his quirk? Or maybe just genetics, it was hard to tell. 

"Yeah?" Izuku swallowed his bite, putting down his chopsticks. "Okano-kun, right? Sorry, I'm really bad with names--"

"I saw you talking to that Shinsou Hitoshi kid," he interrupted, large eyes darting to the classroom door and back. "My friends went to middle school with him."

Izuku brightened. "That's awesome. Do--"

"You have to stay away from him," Okano-kun cut him off again with a rushed voice. 

"I -- what?" 

"You have to stay away from him." He took a step closer, finally making and keeping eye contact with Izuku. "He's dangerous. You shouldn't talk to him."

"Dangerous? Shinsou-kun?" Izuku asked skeptically. After their lunch conversation yesterday, Izuku doubted Shinsou-kun even knew how to throw a proper punch. "How?"

"It's his quirk," the kid lowered his voice and leaned in. "Brainwashing. A villain's quirk. If you respond to him, he'll control you!"

"...uh-huh," Izuku intoned. "That's a little much, isn't it? Shinsou-kun's a pretty cool guy."

"You're not listening. I'm trying to warn you!" An undercurrent of impatience started to creep into Okano-kun's tone, eyes back to flickering to the side like he expected Shinsou-kun to manifest out of thin air. "It didn't look like you knew and it wouldn't be right if I didn't say anything. You have to be careful around someone with a quirk like that. You could get hurt!"

“You’re joking, right?” Izuku demanded. "Mic-sensei could rupture our internal organs with his quirk. What's your point?"

Unnaturally large eyes blinked back at him, startled. "What? No, Present Mic is a pro hero, he would never --"

"So it's not the quirk, but the person, then?" It was Izuku's turn to interrupt. "Cause it doesn't sound like you've given Shinsou-kun much of a chance. And he did go through all of this effort to apply to a hero school. That should mean something to you, shouldn't it?"

Izuku may not have been too quick on the uptake when it came to this society's social norms, but he assumed it was probably a good indication of someone's character if they were attending a hero school. 

Okano-kun scowled. "Whatever. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Izuku shook his head as Okano-kun took off back to the corner of the room he’d come from. 

Honestly, Izuku thought the weirdest interaction he'd have with another student would have been Bakugo's breakdown yesterday, but it felt like this universe was just dying to prove him wrong. 

A 'villainous quirk.' Izuku rolled his eyes. How dramatic.   

He gave a startled yelp when something ice-cold was pressed to the back of his neck. Shinsou-kun huffed a laugh as he came around, setting his drink down next to his lunch. 

“So mean,” Izuku whined, picking his chopsticks back up. 

“Whatever.” 

Conversation was a little stunted from there. Izuku tried to start up a conversation about what he had planned for their training after school, but Shinsou-kun was lost to his own thoughts, distracted and missing Izuku’s questions. 

Nonplussed, Izuku tucked back into his own lunch, content to spend the remainder of their lunchtime in companionable silence.

***

“You’re a monster,” Shinsou-kun wheezed, staring up from the floor where he’d been flipped onto his back. 

Izuku laughed. “It’s all practice, Shinsou-kun! Come on, get up. It’s your turn for the takedown.”

Shinsou-kun groaned, rolling over to his side and pushing up on his arms. 

“Hey, hey,” Izuku chided immediately. “That’s not the technical stand-up I showed you earlier.”

“Haven’t I suffered enough?” Shinsou-kun asked dryly, taking up his position with shaking legs. 

“It’ll get easier with more practice,” Izuku promised, watching closely as Shinsou-kun repeated the steps for the takedown, managing to flip Izuku to his back with a satisfying thump.

“Nice!” Izuku praised, getting back to his feet with a glance at the clock. “Let’s call it there for today. You did really well, Shinsou-kun! You’re picking everything up really fast!”

Shinsou-kun rolled his eyes, but Izuku was almost positive that if his face wasn’t already flushed from exertion he’d be blushing again. 

Making their way over to their bags, Izuku handed Shinsou-kun an extra water bottle, smiling brightly when Shinsou-kun held out his bento box with the extra rice balls in return. 

Munching happily on his snack, Izuku turned back to his bag to finish packing up his stuff. So focused on his task, he didn’t notice Shinsou-kun had stalled, staring almost determinedly at his own open bag.  

Sucking in a deep breath, Shinsou-kun said, "You can drop the honorifics, you know."

"Hmm?" Izuku pulled away from his task, not fully registering Shinsou-kun’s words. 

His purple-haired friend gave an amused huff. "Honorifics. Drop 'em. You've defended my honor and kicked my ass. My dad made cat-snacks for us to share. I think we're past that now."

Izuku blinked, then furrowed his brows in confusion. “When did I defend your honor?”

“You forgot already?” Shinsou-kun reached over and flicked him in the forehead. “At lunch. I heard what you said to Okano about me.”

“You heard that?” Izuku demanded. “He was being rude -- don’t listen to him.”

“See? That,” Shinsou-kun delivered a poke to Izuku’s abused forehead. 

Izuku slapped a hand over his forehead to protect it from further harm, but he couldn’t help the grin pulling at his lips. “Okay! Shinsou!”

***

"We need fabric softener."

"We do not need fabric softener."

"We need it!"

Aizawa sighed but followed his disobedient ward as he took off down another aisle. He missed the days when the teen was too meek and polite to insist on a trip to the convenience store. 

When he caught up, Midoriya had a basket in one hand and was considering a bottle of softener in the other. 

Aizawa lifted the basket off of him. 

"Hey!"

"We don't need a basket."

"We need it!"

Aizawa grabbed a random bottle from the shelf and slouched off. "Let's go."

"Wha -- You didn't even check the price! This one has a coupon!"

"I can afford a bottle of soap. Let's go, problem child." 

"That's not the point," Midoriya grumbled, grabbing Aizawa's wrist to turn the bottle towards him and check the label. "I don't recognize any of these brands…"

Aizawa hid a grimace in his scarf at the comment. 

Midoriya had been attending tutoring lessons with Mic religiously. The radio host had been getting him caught up on academics as well as slowly helping him to acclimate to the new society he'd been tossed into. The small reminder that even shopping for necessities was a chore to be relearned was disappointing, though unsurprising.

"...and it's not like you know how to do the laundry properly," Midoriya continued his rant, squinting his eyes at the label. 

Aizawa casually stuck his heel out and tripped the teen, ignoring the protests as he left him behind to head for the self-checkout. 

Midoriya was grumbling when he caught up with Aizawa outside of the store, huffing his indignation as they continued back to the apartment. They made one final detour at a local restaurant they frequented to pick up dinner before settling in for the night. 

Aizawa put the bottle of fabric softener away before settling at the table where Midoriya had set out their food. He hummed in response where appropriate as Midoriya prattled on about his day. 

“You should join us for practice sometime! Shinsou’s a beginner but he’s a quick learner, and he’s training to be a hero!”

“Mm.”

“He said he’s working on applying for a transfer to the heroics course. He’s pretty diligent so I think he’ll be able to transfer no problem!”

“Mm.”

“I’m going to need a little bit more from you if we’re going to consider this a conversation,” Midoriya sighed, but almost immediately perked back up. “Hey! Mic-sensei said you’re taking the heroics class on a field trip next week! Can we join?”

“No.”

“Aww, c’mon!” the kid whined. “Mic-sensei said it’s just to another school facility and that it wouldn’t be dangerous since it’s only first-year training.”

“It’s a hero course field trip,” Aizawa drawled. “Of which you are not enrolled.”

”Okay, but when am I ever going to get a chance to experience heroics in my life? You didn’t like the way I did it the first time,” - Aizawa shot him an unimpressed look - “so this time is a chance for me to experience what hero society is all about but in a controlled environment!”

“You interact with heroes every day in a controlled environment,” Aizawa denied easily. 

“I interact with teachers every day,” the kid argued. “The only difference between the teachers I have now and the teachers from my old school is that these ones are in costume. And spending time with you doesn’t count!”

“But spending time with me on a field trip does?”

“That’s different!”

Aizawa shook his head, taking another bite. 

“Please?” Midoriya wheedled. “Just this once?”

Aizawa looked into his wide green eyes -- a tactical error. He sighed. “Fine.”

“Yes! Shinsou too?”

“Don’t push it.”

“Fine,” Midoriya dragged out but shot him another grin. “Thanks, Aizawa-san!”

He grunted in acknowledgment. Logistically speaking, having another student attend to participate in the rescue training he had planned would help to even out the numbers. Bringing Midoriya along would help to fill one of the roles playing ‘victim’ while hopefully giving the kid a better understanding of why asking for help was a better alternative than running headfirst into danger. 

Having the kid come along couldn’t hurt.

Chapter Text

“Mic-sensei? Is everything...ok?”

“Never better, little listener! Why do you ask?”

“Uhm, because the teacher’s lounge looks like a tornado ripped through it?”

“Don’t worry about it! Adult stuff - you wouldn’t be interested. Is that the bell?”

“I didn’t hear--”

“Time to go, little listener! Hey, don’t tell the other students about this, yeah?”

“Wha--”

“Thanks, kiddo! I knew I could count on you!”

***

The twitch to Nedzu’s whiskers was distinctly amused. Aizawa’s eyebrows drew deeper together, furthering the glower he knew he was doing a piss poor job of hiding. 

The Symbol of Peace sat straight-backed in the chair next to him, the face of earnest determination focused entirely on the principal and doing his damndest to ignore the blood lust coming off of Aizawa. He’d left a generous amount of space between their seats. 

Not that it would save him. 

Across the desk from them, Nedzu pressed his paws together and leaned forward with interest. “Well, this is certainly not what I expected! It’s rather early in the school year to be butting heads, even for you, Aizawa-san.” 

Aizawa could feel the burn of his quirk as his eyes flashed red. 

“Though I am happy to help in any capacity that I can, this conflict between the two of you centers around one of our students, yes? Tell me,” black, beady eyes sparkled, “what about Midoriya-kun has the two of you so worked up?”

“Young Midoriya should be in the heroics course,” Yagi blurted, skinny hands clenched into fists on his thighs. “Anyone who’s spent even a small amount of time with the boy can see he’s got a heroic spirit! If all that’s holding him back is the concern over his quirk --”

“My ward. Is none of your concern,” Aizawa ground out, crossed arms gripping tightly to keep from reaching over and strangling Japan’s finest. “And neither is the status of his quirk.”

“It is if it’s keeping everyone from seeing his true potential!” Yagi shot back, turning burning blue eyes to Aizawa. “Your concern for him is admirable, but perhaps you’re too close to the situation to judge him fairly--”

“You’re hardly qualified to judge anyone’s potential.”

“I haven’t expelled anyone over their supposed potential like you have, but you forget I’ve spent more years in the field than you--”

“Yes, and your current state is clearly an indicator of your compiled experience--”

“Now, see here--”

“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Nedzu tutted, somehow having set out three sets of teacups during their bickering. He calmly finished pouring the tea into the third cup, placing the pot gently off to the side. “I understand that everyone’s feelings are running high at the moment, but let’s remember that there is a student at the heart of this, shall we? For his sake, at least, we should keep this conversation civil. Don’t you agree?”

Yagi’s mouth dropped open, lips working as if to protest, but ultimately deflated in his seat. “You’re right, Principal Nedzu. I apologize.”

At his silence, Nedzu turned his attention to him. “Aizawa-kun?” he prompted. 

Aizawa glared back. “This is ridiculous. You cannot force a student to transfer courses--”

“Not forcing,” Yagi interrupted. “He deserves a chance --”

“You can’t force a student,” Aizawa repeated over his protests, “to transfer to a course he has no interest in.”

“That’s not true!” Yagi immediately shot back. “Why, you even have him scheduled to participate in the upcoming field trip!”

“As a victim,” Aizawa growled. “A volunteer position that a mannequin would be qualified to fill.”

“And yet it is Young Midoriya that you chose. Even you are going out of your way to include him with your class. You’re stubborn, but even you must see--”

“If I had known allowing a student to fill a vacancy to assist in a training exercise was going to cause such a misguided --”   

Nedzu clapped his paws together smartly. “That’s quite enough, gentlemen. I’ve heard enough to get the gist of the situation. Now, have some tea.” When neither hero made a move to pick up their cups, Nedzu spoke with a flash of teeth, “I insist.” 

Clenching his jaw tight, Aizawa reached forward to pick up the tea, seeing Yagi out of his peripheral do the same. 

“Splendid!” Nedzu praised, steepling his paws together over his desk. “How wonderful that Midoriya-kun has such caring adults in his life!” Which was a damn lie, since Yagi had no claim to his ward period. Not even as an educator. “I will start by addressing your concerns first, Yagi-san.

“Midoriya-kun is an excellent student, and he has shown an admirable ability to adapt and apply himself to his work. I am aware of the villain incident he intervened in--”

Yagi leaned forward hopefully. “Then you understand--”

Nedzu held up his paw, effectively putting a stop to his blathering. “I am aware, and I acknowledge that his actions that day, while ill-advised, were quite impressive. Even so,” here, Nedzu made sure he had Yagi’s full attention, “Midoriya-kun applied, and was admitted to, the General Education course. He has not expressed an interest in heroics and has been settling quite well into his current class.”

“Principal--”

“Even still,” Nedzu continued, bringing his paws back to his tea, “you’re aware that Midoriya-kun is Aizawa-san’s ward. His personal circumstances are not that of the average UA student. It would behoove you to remember that it is his guardian, who is more than aware of his circumstances, that can make the clearest decisions involving his care.”

Yagi tensed, leaning forward urgently in his seat. “But Principal Nedzu, he--”

“Has not expressed an interest in heroics,” Nedzu asserted firmly. “As that is the case, we will respect his placement in General Education.”

Nedzu turned to face Aizawa and sighed. “Aizawa-san, while I understand your frustration, you and Yagi-san are going to be teaching alongside each other all year, and it is the students who will suffer if the two of you cannot act cordially. I am going to insist that you refrain from using your scarf on your fellow teachers to resolve any future conflicts, am I clear?”

Aizawa set the cup of tea down with a clatter and rose to his feet. “Are we done here?”

“Almost,” Nedzu chirped, completely indifferent to his mood. “This began over Midoriya-kun’s involvement with the field trip, yes?”

“We can’t punish him for our own failures,” Yagi said, concern bleeding into his voice. “Principal Nedzu, please, don’t pull him from the trip because of our disagreement.”

“I am of the same mind,” Nedzu agreed easily, looking to Aizawa. “However, the decision is ultimately yours, Aizawa-san, as the teacher organizing the trip and as Midoriya-kun’s guardian. I have already cleared the application for him to join, but it is up to you if you’ll allow him to participate.”

“Aizawa,” Yagi turned to him, pleading. 

“You,” Aizawa could feel his lip pulling back in the beginnings of a snarl, “can’t even comprehend how far you’ve overstepped. If you can’t control yourself from forcing your heroic ideals onto my ward, then stay away from him.” 

Aizawa turned sharply on his heel, making for the door. It was as he opened the door that the rat piped up. “I’ll look forward to your formal decision by the end of the day!”

Aizawa slammed the door shut behind him.  

***

Izuku was getting distracted as he and Shinsou walked down the hall, opting to have lunch in the cafeteria today. 

“Since you got your special field trip this Friday,” Shinsou teased, “my dad was saying instead of training after school you should, uh, come over for dinner. If you want.”

Izuku’s delight at the invitation was being hampered by the loud conversation happening behind him. 

"--Mineta, dude, chill--"

"--I’m just saying-- "

“That sounds cool,” Izuku responds, his attention split. “I just have to ask my guardian for permission, but it should be fine.”

“Just message me when you know,” Shinsou shrugged, casually sticking his hands in his pockets. “My dad has no chill, so you’ll probably have to answer a questionnaire about what kind of food you like.”

"--Yaoyorozu's tits --”

“--dude--”

“I’ll try to enforce a ten-question maximum, but I make no promises.”

“-- see their costumes?! Sure, Jirou's got a nice ass, but if she had some bigger titties she could have been a man's treasure." 

Alright. Izuku had heard enough. 

"That's interesting." Izuku's voice was deliberately too loud. He came to an abrupt halt and spun on his heel to come face-to-face with the boys behind him, green eyes blazing. "Explain to me why you think it's okay to talk about women like that."

Izuku's voice seemed to echo as a hush came over the hall. Students, no longer interested in getting to the cafeteria, slowed to a crawl, stopping to watch. 

The two boys had come up short at Izuku's sudden stop. One, a blonde with a black lightning bolt through his hair - already clearly uncomfortable - immediately held his hands up in surrender. "No disrespect, dude! He'll stop!"

Izuku dropped his gaze to the boy beside him. Short - ridiculously short - and with dark purple balls where his hair should be. 

"Well?" Izuku challenged, eyes burning. "Explain it to me."

The kid scoffed. "Oh, whatever! It's not like I'm the only one thinking it! Don’t act so high and mighty!"

"I didn't ask someone else. I asked you." Izuku could feel Shinsou take a step closer to stand at his back, a silent reminder he was there with him. Izuku took a deliberate breath in and let it out in a rush, trying to collect himself.

With Shinsou next to him, taller than all three of them and admittedly a little intimidating, the ball-headed coward scurried back and hid behind his friend's leg. "I-I don't have to explain myself to you!"

"You do," Izuku corrected easily. "Your uniform - a hero student, right? Explain to me why objectifying women is heroic."

"Y-you're just in Gen Ed! What, you jealous or somethin'?!"

"Do I need to be a hero to be a decent human being?" Izuku didn't miss a beat, and a ripple of murmurs spread in the crowd around them.  

“He’s sorry, man, really!” The blonde tried again, giving his friend a pointed kick to shut up his objection. It didn’t work.

“Don’t apologize to him!” The short boy squawked. “He’s Gen Ed trash!”

Izuku could feel Shinsou bristling next to him at the insult, though Izuku could only roll his eyes at the comment. 

A large hand clapped down on his shoulder before he could respond. “Such energy! You first years sure get more and more excitable every year!”

Izuku’s gaze followed the large hand on his shoulder up to the even larger blonde it was attached to. (Why was it always a blonde?) A third-year and a hero student based on his uniform, with some of the strangest blue eyes Izuku had seen this century and a wide grin on his face that didn’t match the atmosphere. 

“And you are?” Shinsou drawled. 

“Togata Mirio! Your senpai! That conversation you guys were having sure was lively! How about my cute kouhais follow me so we can finish this conversation without blocking the hallway?”

“No way!”

“Mineta, seriously?” his friend despaired. “You’re getting us in trouble.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong! This is your fault!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Izuku. “You’re the one with the problem!”

“Me?!” Izuku blustered. He puffed up for a rebuttal, Togata’s grip tightening on his shoulder as he made to intercept, though he ended up not getting a chance. 

An alarm, high and shrill, blasted through the hallway, causing all of the students to startle. Panicky voices began to rise as the heads of the students previously spectating the argument whipped this way and that to locate the reason for the alarm. 

“It’s alright everyone! Don’t panic!” The third-year called out, motioning with arms to get everyone’s attention. “You all remember the evacuation site from the first day? Let’s head out there to meet up with our senseis!”

“Evacuation?!”

“What’s going on?!”

“Out of my way!”

Immediately, students began stampeding down the hall, flooding out of classrooms and jostling Shinsou and Izuku together harshly, pressing them tightly into the third-year. 

Trapped uncomfortably against his side, Izuku could feel as Togata sighed dejectedly. “I said not to panic.”

“What’s the big deal?” Izuku grumbled, squirming to make some space between him and Shinsou’s pointy elbows. “It’s just a fire alarm, isn’t it? Those get pulled all the time. This can’t be a surprise to them.” 

Togata’s large hand patted his fluffy head. “You’re an interesting guy. You and your buddy stick with me and I’ll get us out of here!’

Pointy elbows stabbing into Izuku again, Shinsou stated, “We are never leaving the classroom for lunch again.”

Izuku hummed his agreement. 

***

Two days later, Shinsou met up early in the morning with Izuku to see him off on his field trip. Aizawa-san stood off to the side, supervising as a boxy-looking teen tried to get the class in order to get on the bus. 

“Aizawa-san said we’ll be back for lunch,” Izuku said, gripping the straps of his bag and vibrating with excitement. “I’ll meet you in the classroom and tell you all about it! I’ll make sure to take a ton of notes and ask a lot of questions--”

“I thought you were there to play a damsel in distress?” Shinsou reached over to flick Izuku’s forehead, putting a stop to his rambling. Izuku slapped his hands over his forehead in belated defense. “When are you going to have time to take notes and ask questions?”

“I’ll figure it out,” Izuku sniffed, Shinsou’s teeth showing as he grinned in response. 

“Midoriya,” Aizawa-san called, now standing alone next to the bus. 

“That’s my cue,” Izuku said, turning to Shinsou. “Wish me luck!”

“Kick their ass,” Shinsou tells him instead. 

“Shinsou,” Izuku whines, cutting it off quickly to grin back at him. “I’ll see you at lunch!”

Shinsou waves him off and Izuku bounds over to where Aizawa-san is waiting for him. 

“Problem child,” he acknowledges, jerking his chin towards the bus. “Get on.”

“Cheer up Aizawa-san!” Izuku grinned up at him. “This’ll be fun!”

Chapter Text

Two days ago…

“You want to talk about it?”

Aizawa’s hand paused with his beer just in front of his lips. He glanced up through his hair to lock gazes with Hizashi sitting across from him. He was sipping from his own can, green eyes watching him openly. 

Aizawa gave a soft snort to show what he thought of that suggestion, finishing off his beer.

“That kind of attitude is probably why you got in a fistfight with the Number One in the teacher’s lounge in the first place,” Hizashi grumbled, watching Aizawa’s empty can join the rest of the pile on the table. It’d been a while since they’d had a night like this. 

“C’mon, Shouta,” Hizashi urged gently, voice deeper and more subdued than his daytime persona. “Why’s All Might of all people got you so worked up?”

“The man’s a moron.”

“You can’t just go around hitting morons, Shouta.”

He very well could have if Nedzu hadn’t intervened. He reached across the table, opening a new beer and letting the weight of it rest between his hands. He could feel Hizashi tracking the motion, though he didn’t comment on it. He took a slow sip from his own can, waiting for Aizawa to get his thoughts together.

Though he was loath to admit it, Aizawa knew this morning had been an overreaction on his part. But he had been running short on patience as it was, and if telling All Might to stay away from his ward wasn’t getting through to him, then he had no qualms about beating it into his thick skull. 

His gaze drifted over to his once empty spare bedroom. The door was closed, but knowing that Midoriya was safe and resting just beyond it soothed his irritation enough to answer the question.

“He wants Midoriya transferred to the hero course.”

Hizashi gave a low whistle, leaning back into his seat. “That’s different. What’d the little listener do to get his attention?”

Aizawa scowled, irritation back in full. “Does it matter? The attention of Japan’s number one hero could put the kid’s safety at an unnecessary risk.”

“How do you figure?”

“Did you miss the media at lunch today? They broke through the school gate to get a glimpse of the man. Midoriya is supposed to be living anonymously until we resolve his case. If the media even suspects that All Might favors him, they won’t stop until they get a story out of the kid and broadcast it all over Japan.” The aluminum crinkles slightly under his sudden grip. “We might as well just put a target on the kid’s back.”

Hizashi hums. “Fair point.”

The quiet settles back between the two of them. Then, “Have you considered just telling All Might the kid can’t for safety reasons?”

“Have you considered how you’re going to get the green stain out of my bathroom?”

“Shouta.”

***

Present day…

Aizawa could see the freshly dyed head of his ward bouncing among his students as they marveled at the absurdity of the USJ. 

It felt like the rest of the teachers had gone out of their way to keep him separated from All Might while on campus, so this exercise would be his first interaction with the man since their altercation. He had gone to school the day after Hizashi’s visit with a headache he refused to call a hangover, but Aizawa could admit that the time to vent his frustrations with his friend had been needed. Now he felt like he could get through this day without wrapping his capture scarf around All Might’s neck. 

On the other hand, he might have to strangle him anyway. As Thirteen greeted him and the students, the hero held up three fingers, indicating All Might had run out of time already. Aizawa rolled his eyes to show he understood. 

Thirteen gathered his students together, beginning the usual speech they gave when it came to this exercise. His ward stood next to him, nearly vibrating with excitement, wide green eyes never stopping as they took in the facility around them. 

Aizawa had already given his students a brief but firm explanation for Midoriya’s presence while on the bus. He hadn’t planned to until they were ready to begin the exercise while at the USJ, but after the commotion Midoriya’s entrance on the bus had caused -- by both Bakugo and Mineta -- his hand had been forced. Followed by his quirk when Bakugo exploded after learning Midoriya would only be serving to play as a victim during the exercise and Aizawa would not be moved on the matter. 

Aizawa could feel his headache coming back at the thought of having to deal with All Might and Bakugo demanding his ward join their class. Their zeal for the kid’s heroic potential was illogical. 

“Ow.”

“Ow?” Aizawa drawled, glancing sideways at his ward. 

Midoriya had his wrist pulled up to his face, inspecting his bracelet. “Well,” the kid mumbled, “not ow, but I think it just died? Is it supposed to vibrate?” 

Aizawa’s brows furrowed, reaching over to grab Midoriya’s wrist and bring it up to his face for a closer inspection. The sleek, black bracelet rested innocently against Midoriya’s pale wrist. The small light that once flashed an intermittent green was now a solid, angry red. 

“Uh, Aizawa-san? Is that… normal?”

He did not like the way Midoriya asked that question. Shifting his gaze, he found Midoriya’s attention locked towards the center of the USJ. Turning for a quick glance over his shoulder, he could feel the involuntary burn of his quirk as it flashed over his eyes.

“Thirteen,” he interrupted, turning fully to face the plaza, using his grip on Midoriya’s wrist to pull the kid behind him. “Evacuate the students and notify the principal.” 

“Aizawa-san?” Midoriya questioned, his voice joining the rest of the students’ demands for an explanation. 

The gaping, purple-black void at the center of the USJ widened as it spat out one intruder after another. 

“What’s that?” He could hear Kirishima asking. “Has the exercise started already?”

“Stay back!” Aizawa bit out, settling his goggles in place. “Those are villains.”

***

Izuku was yanked out of the water and deposited none too gently onto the deck of a boat. Asui’s tongue unraveled from his waist and retracted back into her mouth as Izuku gagged on the water still in his lungs. 

“Midoriya-chan,” Asui croaked, round eyes focused on him, “are you alright, kero ?” 

Izuku spat the last of the water from his mouth and gaped at her disbelievingly. Did he look alright?

Asui reached over to pat his shoulder. “It’ll be ok.”

“IT’S NOT OK!” Mineta wailed, and where had he come from? “WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!”

“Asui-chan --”

“Call me Tsuyu.”

“ -- so not the time. We need to get out of here. We need to get back to Aizawa-san.”

“That’ll be difficult, kero. We’re surrounded by villains with water type quirks. I might be able to out-swim them, but you and Mineta won’t be able to. I’m not strong enough to carry you both.”

“Who says we have to swim?” Izuku stretched his neck up, barely able to glance over the side of the deck to the water below. The heads of villains bobbed just above the water, amphibious gazes locked on the boat. “And how do we know we’re surrounded?”

“SURROUNDED! WE’RE DOOMED!”

“Shut up, Mineta. We should check the other side. If they’re only watching this side of the boat, maybe we can get out of here with a lifeboat from the back or something. We could get a headstart before they even notice we’re gone!”

“A lifeboat?”

“Yeah, you know, like in the Titanic? I mean, technically the Titanic was a ship, not a boat, but a boat this size should have one, right?”

Two pairs of eyes stared back at him. Tsuyu brought a finger to her lip and tilted her head questioningly. “Titanic, kero?”

“Yeah, you know,” Izuku held his arms straight out to his sides like that explained everything. “The Titanic? The… argh just forget it! Look, they know we’re on this side of the boat, so if you guys stay here then hopefully so will they. I’ll look for a way to get us out of here. Just - scream or something if you need me, got it?”

Mineta wailed wordlessly and clung to Tsuyu. Knocking him back with a firm fist to the top of Mineta’s head, Tsuyu nodded in agreement. “Be careful, Midoriya-chan, kero.”

Without another word, Izuku took off as quickly as he could while hunched over, praying no one in the water noticed him leaving. 

There was no need to panic, Izuku assured himself. Aizawa-san was here, and so was that other hero. And Izuku wasn’t alone because all of the other hero students were here. Somewhere. Everything was going to be ok and they didn’t need to worry about any of those villains.

Like that mist guy. That mist guy with his void quirk or whatever. It had felt like… The sensation of falling was just so similar --

Izuku gasped, clenching and unclenching his fists. He was trembling. 

Not now, Izuku thought, pushing the thought harshly from his mind. He could think about that after they got out of here.

The first deck came up with nothing and Izuku swallowed down his frustration. A quick peek over the side of the deck told him he had been right about the villains sticking to one side of the boat. Either the villains thought the students were too stupid to move around the boat, or the villains were too stupid to plan for it. 

Either way, Izuku would take it. 

The second level was similar to the first in that Izuku wasn’t able to find a lifeboat. But he did find the wheelhouse. 

Slipping inside, Izuku straightened up, fairly confident he couldn’t be seen from the water while in the room. He stole over to the window where a large command center had been set up. The wheel itself was a lot smaller than Izuku thought it would have been, but what did he actually know about boats? Apparently not a lot if he couldn’t even find the lifeboats.

The first thing he tried was the radio. He fiddled with dials and toggled the mic asking, “hello? hello?” into the static. 

Quickly giving up on that when he didn’t receive a response, he turned to the wheel which stuck up out of an extremely high-tech command center. Buttons lit up across the board, some blinking, others off entirely. 

In a square, clear protective case, a key with a little whale shark charm sat innocently in the ignition. 

Well. If that wasn’t convenient…

Izuku flipped the clear case but hesitated over the key. He figured the logistics for driving the boat were probably the same for driving a car, but he’d never driven one of those either. And what was he going to do if turning the boat on meant the villains started attacking the ship? And, clearly, the key was the on-switch but what was the go button? Did it just go on its own? Was trying and failing here on his own worse than not trying at all? Maybe… maybe he should go back and ask Tsuyu --

The boat jarred suddenly and Izuku lost his balance, falling against the wheel. The mocking voices and Mineta’s crying could be heard throughout the wheelhouse. 

Trying and possibly failing it was then. 

Izuku turned the key and the boat thrummed beneath him as the engines came to life. The mocking turned to shouted objections at the change. The boat was jarred again, but Izuku braced himself for it this time. A quick glance around the controls found a lever to his immediate right. There was a panel of labels next to it that went from Idle to Slow and eventually ended with TURBO. 

The boat rocked, tipping harshly. Izuku gulped. 

Please, oh please, oh please, he thought, grabbing the lever and pushing it past Slow and straight to TURBO.

***

To say he was nauseous was… an understatement. 

He’d nearly lost control the second TURBO had been activated. He’d thrown his full weight against the wheel, over correcting and forcing the boat to do donuts in the water. His panic had spiked then as the blurred shore had spun in and out of sight with each dizzying pass. Desperately hoping he’d timed it right, Izuku yanked the wheel in the opposite direction, straightening out and feeling the boat skip over the water as it took off in a straight line. 

With the velocity that they’d been traveling at, the boat crashed into the shore and carried on until it had buried itself in the concrete far from the shore. Izuku clambered down to the deck below, gripping the railing as his knees continued to shake along with the vibrations of the boat, still attempting to continue its journey with the engines clogged and trying to force their way through the rubble. 

“Midoriya-chan!”

Relief spread through Izuku, loosening the tight grip on his heart as he found Tsuyu and Mineta stuck safely to the deck with the weird, purple balls from Mineta’s head. 

Izuku reached them as Mineta pulled the last of the balls from off of Tsuyu. His relief was quickly replaced by concern when he saw the blood dripping from Mineta’s brow. 

Tsuyu reached over to pat Mineta on the shoulder as the boy wiped the blood from his face. “Mineta overused his quirk when you created the whirlpool to trap the villains, kero. He threw as many balls into the water as he could to keep them stuck together.”

Izuku blinked back slowly. “When I created... the what?”

“The whirlpool,” Tsuyu repeated calmly. “Though a little warning next time would be nice. We almost fell off the deck.”

“R-right,” Izuku said, stopping the hysterical laughter bubbling in his throat. “Next time. You got it.”

Izuku grabbed Mineta as Tsuyu wrapped her tongue around his waist again, jumping with the two of them from the deck to land on the concrete of the USJ plaza. 

The three of them took a moment to reorient themselves, creeping towards the front of the boat to peer around the bow and hopefully find themselves back near the entrance of the USJ. 

Dread, like ice, spread through Izuku at the sight of the plaza. 

Bodies of downed villains trailed through the plaza, leading back like bread crumbs to the monster hunched over the body of Aizawa-san. One hand engulfed the entirety of Aizawa-san’s arm as he held him to the floor. 

There was a lot of blood. 

There was a second villain there, watching with his back turned to the boat. Izuku couldn’t hear what he was saying over the thundering of his own heartbeat. The villain waved his hand flippantly, and horror overtook Izuku as the monster twisted and snapped Aizawa-san’s arm. Aizawa-san screamed. 

Izuku was stumbling forward before he even noticed, dodging past Tsuyu’s hold and Mineta’s protests. His vision tunneled to the scene in front of him as his shout tore its way from his throat, “ LEAVE HIM ALONE !”

The villain turned slowly to face Izuku. Izuku couldn’t see his expression for the hand that covered his face, but he certainly noticed the other hands that wrapped around his neck and grabbed his arms. Was this a quirk? The hands of his enemies? 

There was that nausea again. 

“More NPCs?” the villain said, scratching at his neck. “When we were promised the final boss?”

“Midoriya,” Aizawa-san called, visibly gritting his teeth with pain. “Stay back!”

“If we can’t have the real thing,” the villain grinned, pale dry skin creasing with a smile, “we should leave a little gift instead. Something to take the Symbol of Peace’s pride down a notch!”

Aizawa-san’s shout of protest was abruptly cut off as the monster slammed his face into the concrete. Izuku watched with mounting fear as the villain dashed towards him, nearly as quick and nimble on his feet as Aizawa-san ever was in their spars together. His wide, almost manic eyes were locked on Izuku, seeming to enjoy his reaction to his guardian’s suffering. 

It pissed Izuku off. Anger burned through the chill of fear and brought his absolute focus to the villain rapidly gaining on him. 

The guy fucking lead with his hands.

The villain was already on him, arm stretched out and hand reaching for Izuku’s face. 

Izuku’s feet spread naturally to firm his stance. He brought his hands together and raised his own hands to be as wide as his opponent’s shoulders and high as their head. It was child’s play to snatch hold of the man’s wrist and force it down past Izuku’s hip. Simultaneously, Izuku brought his knee up, using the man’s own momentum to bury the joint amongst snapping ribs and the squish of organs that Izuku would really rather not think about right now. 

The man gagged as he bounced back from Izuku’s knee. With an ease born from years of practice, Izuku near roared as he shoved the man into his kicking range and landed a round-house kick to some probably already broken ribs.

The man crumpled with a BANG — or maybe that was actually an explosion. Izuku didn’t take his eyes off the man to find out. 

“You,” the man cursed, curling protectively over his midsection. “I’ll kill you.”

The mist villain appeared at the man’s side then, coming out of the purple-black void that made Izuku’s muscles tense.

“Shigaraki Tomura,” the mist spoke. “The heroes have arrived. It is time we take our leave.”

“Not yet,” the villain, Shigaraki growled, spitting out a mouthful of blood. “Nomu!”

Before Izuku could even blink, the monster was before him. And holy fuck was it huge. Terror zipped through him with the sudden and visceral knowledge that this thing was going to kill him. 

With a demented scream, the thing - Nomu - reared it’s fist back and brought it down.

Wind whipped through Izuku from the force of the punch, forcing him to stumble and fall to his back.

Before him, a man so tall and broad he nearly eclipsed the lights of the USJ shining down on them, had met the Nomu’s attack fist-for-fist and stopped it in its tracks.

“It’s ok. Why? I am here.”

***

Izuku found himself scooped up and deposited back by the boat without so much as a by-your-leave. Tsuyu and Mineta came forward, hands reaching to hold him, but Izuku stuck his arms out protectively, herding them behind him. 

“It’s ok, Midoriya-chan,” Tsuyu soothed with a hand to his shoulder as the mountain of a man took off with a burst of air to face the Nomu. “It’s only All Might, kero .”

“You know that guy?” Izuku demanded.

“YOU DON’T ?!” Mineta shrieked. 

Ignoring Mineta, but trusting Tsuyu’s knowledge of the newcomer, Izuku tore his attention away from the battling giants.

He took off at a sprint for Aizawa-san’s body, Tsuyu and Mineta wordlessly on his heels. He dropped to his knees immediately at Aizawa-san’s side, hands shaking over his still form.

Tsuyu took charge then, guiding Izuku and helping him to turn Aizawa-san onto his back. He looked… terrible. 

Footsteps thundered to their location, but Izuku barely registered it as Tsuyu stepped back and away to make room for the newcomers. He jolted as a warm hand gripped his shoulder.

Izuku looked up into the kind face of Detective Tsukauchi as other officers gathered around to work on assessing and stabilizing Aizawa-san. 

“It’s ok, Izuku,” the detective consoled him. “The other heroes are here and paramedics are right outside. You’re safe.”

Which was funny, Izuku thought as Aizawa-san was hefted onto a stretcher between two officers. The battling giants and the defeated cursing of the villains a backdrop to his guardian’s departure.

He sure didn’t feel safe.

Chapter Text

Aizawa-san hadn’t woken up yet. 

To be fair, he had been heavily sedated since the paramedics had gotten their hands on him and had only been filled with even more pain medication after the emergency surgery once they’d gotten to the hospital. But, still. 

Aizawa-san hadn’t woken up yet and Izuku was definitely not panicking about it. 

Nurses and doctors came and went from the room, checking on monitors, writing down their observations in the clipboard that hung at the end of Aizawa-san’s bed. Once or twice, they had tried to coax Izuku into his own checkup. 

Izuku doesn’t remember resisting. He does know Mic-sensei had intervened, pressing Izuku’s face firmly to his chest as he held him and waved off the doctors. He promised Izuku that the school nurse, Recovery Girl, was on her way and they would wait for her for any of his examinations. Izuku had calmed down relatively fast after that, having already met the elderly hero a few times when they’d run into each other in the staff room. 

Mic-sensei pulled one of the chairs over to Aizawa-san’s bed, planting Izuku into it and instructing him to, “stay right there, Izuku, I will be right back.”  

Izuku doesn’t remember how long ago that was. He does know that the fresh bandages wrapped down Aizawa-san’s arms are starting to spot red again from the surgical incisions and stitches. They said Recovery Girl would be able to take care of that once she got here. 

Izuku gritted his teeth against his trembling lips and watery vision. He reached out, fisting the blanket by Aizawa-san’s arm. 

He’d be fine. He was a hero! Heroes always came out on top! 

Izuku sniffled as tears stung his eyes and cut down his cheeks. He pressed his face into Aizawa-san’s mattress and waited. 

***

“How’s he doing?”

“Oh, you know. A couple of crushed bones in his arms, a few orbital fractures, and a concussion. Nothing that’ll keep Shouta down for long!” Mic laughed humorlessly, running a hand roughly through his hair. 

Tsukauchi gave him a tight smile. “I’m happy to hear that, but I meant, how’s Midoriya-kun doing?”

Mic sighed, slumping back against the hallway wall with a shake of his head. “About as well as you’d expect. Hyper-focused. Resistant to care. He’s like a little green Shouta.” 

Tsukauchi gave a sympathetic hum at the description. “I’ll try to keep this brief, then. Firstly, with his guardian currently incapacitated, he’ll need--”

“I’ll stay with the little listener,” Mic interrupted, waving away Tsukauchi’s formalities. “What else you got for me? Do we know anything?”

Tsukauchi gave a tired sigh in response. “Very little. The villains arrested at the scene seemed to have all been recently recruited and have minimal information about the group. We’re still interviewing the students to see what they know, though thankfully they’re mostly unharmed. A few scrapes and some bruises - mostly shaken up from the ordeal. The,” and here, Tsukauchi visibly struggled for the word, “creature that All Might defeated at the USJ has been completely unresponsive to any communication. Almost catatonic.”

Mic crossed his arms. “Sounds like we know a whole lot of nothing.”

“Perhaps,” Tsukauchi quirked a small smile. “But it could have been worse. Thanks to the alert we got from Midoriya-kun’s bracelet disconnecting, our response time was near immediate.”

“True,” Mic sighed gustily. “Still don’t like it.”

Tsukauchi reached out and clasped him on the shoulder. “I need to return to the station. I’ll come by later for Midoriya-kun’s and Aizawa’s official statement. You’ll call if you need anything?”

Mic waved him off, returning to the hospital room to stand watch over his best friend and their little time traveler. 

***

Consciousness came suddenly. 

It wasn’t so much a physical jerk as it was a mental one. A jolting of nerves come to life; a livewire of backlogged sensation snapping into focus. 

Flashes of memory raced behind his eyelids. His students. The warper. The fucking boat.

“... something to take the Symbol of Peace’s pride down a notch!”  

Those fucking hands reaching for his ward.

A deep, painful breath. Another. 

Where was his ward?

Aizawa struggled to sit up, fighting against the restrictive bandages and his own body’s painful protests. 

Bandages around his eyes kept him blind to his environment. How much time had passed? How long had he been out?

“Whoa there,” a familiar voice sounded to his left, followed by strong arms that wrapped around his shoulders to help him into a seated position. “You’ll hurt yourself like that - well, more than you already are anyway.”

“Mic,” Aizawa acknowledged in a gruff thank you. “My students?”

“Safe and sound,” Mic assured smartly, rustling as he settled. “Only you and Thirteen had any major injuries.”

“Midoriya - ”

“Is fine,” Mic assured, a teasing lilt making its way into his voice. “Hasn’t left your side for a single second.”

Aizawa frowned, methodically running through the aches and pains throughout his body. “He’s here?”

“Mhmm,” Mic hummed. “He’s snoozing to your right.”

Mic objected immediately as Aizawa started to reach out with short, jerking movements. “You’ll wake him up! You’ll wake him - ah, geez, never mind.”

Aizawa’s clumsy, bandaged hand bumped into the cushy fluff of Midoriya’s hair. Using that as a guide, he let his hand swipe down to rest along his ward’s shoulders.

It was easier to feel the steady rise and fall of his breath this way. 

The vice around his chest began to loosen. “What do we know?”

Mic sighed. “Not enough. We’ve got names for the leader and the warper, but not much else. That monster that attacked you is basically catatonic. Hasn’t responded to anything so far.”

Fucking damn it. “The coms in the USJ were down. How?”

“One of their lackey's quirks,” Mic supplied easily. “I don’t want to reinforce your bad behavior, but that bracelet you’ve got the little listener wearing is what alerted us to a problem at all. When it disconnected, it notified Tsukauchi, and when Tsukauchi couldn’t get a hold of you, he called Nedzu.”

Aizawa grunted, understanding the gist of what happened next. Nedzu had sent the cavalry. “Why are my eyes covered?”

“You got a few head injuries - no, don’t pick at them! - so they’re on as a precaution. We were able to have medics on-site when we responded, so most of your injuries have been healed. We’re waiting on Recovery Girl for the rest, but she needs you to gain more stamina before she can heal you with her quirk.”

“My eyes?”

“Will be fine, thankfully. You had some orbital fractures and a concussion, but since the response time between your injuries and getting you medical attention was so short, they said it won’t affect your quirk or your vision.”

Aizawa grunted again, settling back more comfortably into the hospital pillows he’d been propped up against. “How soon can I leave?”

“Shouta,” Mic scolded. “You’re in the hospital after a villain attack. You had to have surgery.”

“I can visit Recovery Girl on Monday.”

“You know, it’s this poor example you set that has the kid resisting medical care.”

Aizawa turned slowly towards Mic’s voice. “Hizashi. You said he was fine.”

“And he is! I swear!” Mic defended before letting out a gusty sigh. “He’s just a little shook up. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said he wouldn’t leave you. If it involved leaving you, or anyone he didn’t know, he was against it. Completely understandable, given everything that happened.”

“Are you telling me he hasn’t been examined yet?”

“I’m telling you that he’s fine, Sho. But he’ll be a lot happier when he sees you’re awake.”

“He sees Recovery Girl tomorrow,” Aizawa grumbled, finally giving in to his body’s exhaustion.

“You got it, Sho,” Mic agreed placatingly, watching as Aizawa’s body went slack with sleep.

Confident the drugs in Aizawa’s IV would keep him from waking, he snapped a picture of his surly friend fast asleep with his arm still curled protectively around his ward.

Chapter Text

True to his word, Aizawa had Recovery Girl perform Midoriya's health exam as soon as she arrived. Quickly declaring Midoriya fit, she'd turned her ministrations towards him with a vengeance.

She’d warned him that his wounds would require multiple healing sessions, but was confident that his current physical condition would allow her to complete the healing of either his eyes or his arms in this first session. After a rest period, the final healing would take place in future sessions, but she'd left the decision up to him what to heal first.

Aizawa, of course, had chosen his eyes. 

He was coming to regret that decision. 

"Say ahhh," his ward cooed, holding a pair of chopsticks loaded with rice up to Aizawa's thinned lips. 

"Yeah, c'mon Sho! Dinner's getting cold!" Mic crowed from his seat next to Aizawa at the dining table, phone out and filming. 

“Turn. That. Off,” Aizaw growled through clenched teeth. Immediately, he bobbed an attempt from his ward to slip the food past his lips. 

Midoriya scowled. “You’re being difficult. You can’t even use your hands! How are you supposed to eat if you can’t use your hands?”

“Being spoon-fed is not the solution,” he glowered back into his ward’s obstinate green eyes. 

“What’re we gonna do then? Feed you through a straw? Recovery Girl said you had to eat real food. Real food means chopsticks.” He raised said chopsticks up to Aizawa’s tightly shut mouth. “Now say ah.”

Mic guffawed like the traitorous bastard he was. 

Aizawa turned his glare on the obnoxious hero. “Go. Home.”

“And leave my best friend in his hour of need? What kind of guy do you think I am?” Mic snickered, though he did put his phone down as a compromise. “Besides, anything I need to get done can be done from your apartment! You’ll have me the whole weekend!”

Dear god, no. 

Midoriya perked up at the comment. “You’re going to hang out with us all weekend?”

“Sure am, little listener!” Mic reached across the table to ruffle the kid’s hair. “We’ll tag team this grump to make sure he eats and gets the rest he’s supposed to! Teamwork makes the dream work!” 

Aizawa groaned and slumped back into his chair. He watched as the alliance formed against him was sealed with an enthusiastic fist bump.

Truly. Regrettable. 

***

Early Monday morning found Izuku in the nurse’s office at UA, watching intently as Recovery Girl smacked a kiss on Aizawa’s hands. 

“Those are healing quite nicely,” Recovery Girl announced as she toddled back over to her desk and hopped up into her chair. “You should only have to keep the wraps on until the end of the week. Come see me before you leave for the weekend and I’ll give you the final healing session then. But!” She spun in her seat and jabbed her cane at Aizawa-san. “Those arms need to rest! If I see there has been minimal progress in your healing come Friday, I will not be afraid to confine you to bed rest!”

“Yes ma’am,” Aizawa drawled, flexing his mitted-up hands experimentally. 

“And you!” Midoriya blinked in surprise as she turned on him. “You make sure he doesn’t overextend himself, you hear?”

“Yes ma’am!” Izuku parroted with a polite bow. “I’ll keep an eye on him!”

“Such a dear,” Recovery Girl praised him, pushing a pack of gummies into his hands as a reward.

Aizawa-san sighed at that as he got to his feet, muttering under his breath about problem children. 

Izuku followed him out the door, waving a goodbye to Recovery Girl as they left. He caught up easily to Aizawa-san’s pace and followed him back to his classroom. 

“Class will be starting soon,” Aizawa-san hinted, laying out his sleeping bag behind his desk pretty efficiently considering he was working with paws instead of hands. 

“I’ve got time,” Izuku waved him off, jumping up to take a seat on his desk. He now had the perfect bird’s eye view of Aizawa-san’s nap station. 

Aizawa-san gave him the side-eye, somehow managing to zip himself into his sleeping bag. Izuku answered him with a cheeky smile and happily tore into his gummy pack. 

A moment later, the classroom door snapped open and Izuku startled. A very tall, very square-looking hero student with glasses stood in the doorway, momentarily paused in surprise at the sight of Izuku sitting on his teacher’s desk. 

“Midoriya-kun!” The hero student called, chopping his hand down decisively. “While I am happy to see that you are well, please remove yourself from the school furniture! It is unbecoming of a student of UA!”

“Uh, sure?” Izuku slid easily down, pocketing his empty snack wrapper.

“Thank you!” Chop, chop. “Iida Tenya, class president of 1-A! We weren’t able to introduce ourselves properly given the recent circumstances. It is a pleasure to officially meet you!”

“Uh, yeah! Nice to meet you, too!” 

“Oh my gosh, is that him?!” A brunette with rosy cheeks popped up next to Iida, bouncing excitedly on her heels. “It’s you, isn’t it?! The Gen Ed kid from the USJ!”

“Um-“

“Tsu-chan told us everything! You took out all of those villains in the shipwreck zone like whoosh! And then you went toe-to-toe with that handsy villain like nuh-uh! Do you train? For how long have you trained? Could you teach-“

“Uraraka-chan!” Chop, chop. “You are overwhelming him! One question at a time!”

“Who’s that?” Another student popped up in the doorway. Followed by another and another and another. 

“What do you mean who? Aizawa-sensei made that big introduction-“

“Bro! You didn’t even hesitate! So manly!” 

“Momo, this is that kid I told you about. The one that told off that absolute pervert bastard-“

“Midoriya-chan, good morning, kero.” 

“YOU!”

Bakugo shoved his way through the crowd of hero students to grab Izuku by his collar, which was immediately met with indignant protests from the rest of the class.

“Hey! Let him go!”

“Not cool, Bakubro.”

“Someone sedate him.”

Bakugo shook him roughly. “What the fuck did you think you were doing?! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

“Uhm, not particularly?”

“What were you going to do against a disintegration quirk?! Huh?! You dumb quirkless bastard ?! You - you - uselss fucking DEKU ?!”

Murmurs broke out from the students behind him, passing the word quirkless back and forth between each other. Izuku was ignorant to their muttering, instead reaching out to pat the frothing blond on the shoulder.

“You don’t have to be scared, Bakugo-“

“WHO’S FUCKING SCARED?!”

“I know you’re only concerned for me-“

“SHUT UP!”

“Is he sassing Bakugo?”

“This kid is so metal.”

“I think I'm in love.”

“Shut up, Kaminari.”

“Why?!”

“-but as you can see,” Izuku continued over the continuous din of voices, “I am completely fine. Chill, okay?”

“I AM CHILL!”

“Right,” Izuku grinned, reaching up to scruff a hand through the blond’s spiky hair instead. Bakugo shoved him back with a snap of teeth at Izuku’s reaching fingers.

“Stupid fucking Deku,” Bakugo continued to grumble while a sharp-toothed red-head came to stand next to him. 

“Bro, I didn’t know you two knew each other! Why didn’t you say something?”

“Shut up, Shitty Hair. ‘s none of your business.”

“Aww, look at Blasty being all shy!” A pink-skinned girl with equally pink hair pushed passed on Bakugo’s other side. She stuck her hand out to shake Izuku’s hand vigorously. “Call me Mina! You were so cool at the USJ! We were worried when you got separated from everyone, but it turns out you had everything under control!”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Izuku chuckled nervously. “It was a lot of panicking and hoping for the best.”

“So modest.” Did the red-head just wipe away a tear? “So manly.”

The classroom door snapped open for a second time, causing the full occupants of class 1-A (plus Izuku) to turn their heads towards it.

Izuku’s eyes widened at his tall, purple friend standing in the doorway. “Shinsou-kun?”

“Hey.” His eyes glanced coolly over the curious faces of the hero students before returning to Izuku. “Mic sent me to get you. Class is starting soon.”

“Oh - thanks Shinsou-kun! It was nice to see you guys again. I’m glad everyone’s okay!”

“You have to come eat with us at lunch!” The brunette from earlier latched onto his arm and looked up at him with imploring eyes. “We hardly got to talk at all! We can meet in the cafeteria!”

“Uhm, sure?”

“Let’s go, Midoriya,” Shinsou-kun drawled from the doorway, already turned to leave. 

Izuku waved goodbye to the hero students, their echoing farewell carrying down the hall as the boys started the walk back to their classroom.

“Thanks for coming to get me. They’re really nice, but a little overwhelming - oof.”

Izuku was cut off as Shinsou-kun turned abruptly and captured him in a tight hug. His hands flailed for only a moment before reaching around to pat his friend’s back. “Shinsou-kun?”

“You bailed on dinner.”

“I-I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!”

Shinsou-kun only squeezed him harder. “Promise?”

Izuku wrapped his arms fully around his friend and squeezed him back. “Promise.” 

“Do we really have to have lunch with the hero kids today? I thought we agreed the cafeteria was off-limits for lunch after the last time.”

“That alarm was not my fault!”

“I was talking about you going feral to defend the honor of women everywhere.”

“Feral is a strong word...”

He snorted into the crook of Izuku’s shoulder, hiding his face there. Izuku squirmed from the ticklish feeling. 

The hug only lasted a moment longer, the friends breaking apart when the late bell sounded overhead. 

“Whoops,” Izuku smiled sheepishly.

Shinsou-kun only shrugged. “Mic won’t care. C’mon.”

Izuku readily kept pace with his friend. From the attack, to the hospital, to the long weekend of recovery with his guardians, Izuku was stuck between feeling rested and completely wired. The casual familiarity of walking to class with his friend at his side settled his nerves in a way he hadn’t realized he needed.

If they walked a little slower than usual, no one was any the wiser. 

***

Izuku thinks this must be karmic retribution for micromanaging Aizawa-san’s meals this past weekend. 

“Here, Midoriya! You can share my melon bread!”

“That’s nothing but fucking sugar, Round Face! Keep that shit away from him!” Bakugo slammed an extra serving of vegetables down in front of Izuku. “What’d the fucking doctor say? They took you away in an ambulance, didn’t they? What’s your fucking recovery plan?”

“Uhm-“ 

“What’s wrong with melon bread? It’s carbs! Carbs are good!”

“Carbs and fucking sugar you ignorant fuck.”

A heavy hand slaps him on the back. “Midoriya, you have to tell us how you took out all of the villains with a boat! Tsuyu said it was epic!”

“It wasn’t that impressive,” Mineta grumbled. “I was the one who stuck them all together!”

“Don’t pout, dude. It’s not cute.”

“Hey, Midoriya.” Izuku turned to face the girl with short, dark hair and dangly earlobes. “Tell everyone how you totally wrecked Mineta in front of the entire school.”

“When I did what?”

“Jirou told the girls all about it!” Izuku watched, entranced, as a floating uniform spoke to him. “Sooo satisfying! We’ve been trying to get him to shut up since forever.”

“Deku! Quit yapping and eat your lunch, you piece of shit!”

“Don’t talk to him like that!”

“Dude, is your lunch homemade?” He recognizes the blond with the lightning bolt through his hair - Kaminari, he thinks. “Let me try!”

“Don’t take his food, he’s recovering,” another black-haired student with bulging elbows smacks Kaminari’s grabbing hands away. 

“Oh, I’m not recovering. I’m fine!”

“Balanced meals are an important part of maintaining a healthy lifestyle!” Iida placed an extra bowl of rice down in front of Izuku with one hand and chopped at the air with the other. 

“But I brought my own lunch-“

“Then fucking eat it, Deku!”

“Don’t call him that! His name is Izuku!”

“Whoa, Uraraka gets to call you Izuku? Can I call you Izuku, too?”

Shinsou-kun turns, overwhelmed, to glare at Izuku from the seat beside him at the overcrowded table. He hisses, “This is your fault.”

“I said I was sorry!” Izuku whines back at him, not able to cut a word in edgewise with the boisterous hero students surrounding them. 

“Make them go away.” 

“That’s rude, Shinsou-kun. And probably impossible.”

“I hate you. Get me out of here.”

“Help me eat all of the food they keep giving me and maybe they’ll let us go?” 

“Or we could just go to the vending machine and never come back.”

“...you’re really smart sometimes, you know that?”

Shinsou-kun pinched his side in reprimand, but slowly and quietly made his escape alongside Izuku. They lucked out - the hero students were distracted by another argument between Uraraka and Bakugo and didn’t even notice they’d gone.

Pausing only once at the door to the cafeteria, Izuku turned to look back at the hero students’ table. 

He jolted in surprise when he was met with the cold, hard stare of bi-colored eyes. Izuku flinched slightly from the attention, not recognizing him as one of the more outgoing students of 1-A that had introduced themselves this morning. 

Izuku’s tiny wave in the hero student’s direction was met with a sharp frown. 

“Midoriya,” Shinsou-kun called impatiently, eager to make an escape back to the classroom. 

“Uh, right!” Izuku called, finally tearing his eyes away. “Coming!”

As he caught up with his even-tempered friend, Izuku found himself being suddenly and viscerally grateful he was just a Gen Ed student. 

Chapter Text

Izuku’s brows furrowed to match his stubborn pout. “I don’t have to go today. I can hang out here with you instead.”

“I think I can handle grading papers on my own,” Aizawa-san sighed, shuffling the papers around on his desk, probably just to prove that he could do it. 

“But --”

“You would be of more help to Shinsou than you would be here with me,” Aizawa-san asserted unapologetically, turning in his seat at his desk to look Izuku in the eye. “While I appreciate the sentiment, problem child, I don’t need a babysitter.”

Izuku’s pout intensified. “It’s not babysitting. I’m helping.”

“I am very familiar with your idea of ‘helping,’ Midoriya,” Aizawa-san responded dryly. “But the majority of the wounds I sustained have already been healed, and I have been cleared to return to teaching. I know you know this, so. Shinsou. Go.”

“Alright, alright,” Izuku grumbled, grabbing his bag so he could head to the locker rooms to change. “But I’ll keep my ringer on for you, just in case. If you need anything or you want to head home early—”

“Go, Midoriya.”

“I’m just saying!” Izuku defended stubbornly. “Recovery Girl said her quirk uses up your energy, so if you wanted to call it an early day today, it’s not a big deal.”

“Thank you,” Aizawa-san said, not sounding thankful at all. “I will keep that in mind.”

“I mean it,” Izuku repeated, reluctantly making his way to the door. “We can go home whenever, just let me know.”

Aizawa-san waved him off and turned back to his desk, apparently giving up on any other responses.

Izuku stalled just outside the classroom with his hand on the door. “I’m going now.” 

Aizawa-san hummed in acknowledgment. 

Izuku slowly started to close the door. “Call me if you need anything, okay?"

Aizawa-san shuffled some more papers around. Izuku continued to close the door, but left a sliver of it open. Just enough that when he tilted his head on an angle he could still see into the classroom. 

Aizawa-san reached to pick up his pen, but fumbled the grip and accidentally dropped it to the floor.

“On second thought,” Izuku slid the door back open, “maybe I should -”

Red eyes flashed. “Get out.”

“Geez, okay. I’m going,” Izuku huffed in defeat, finally closing the door and turning to head to the locker rooms. 

Grumbling to himself, he didn’t notice the hero student that followed in his wake. 

***

“About time you showed up,” Shinsou teased from the mat, already halfway through his warm-up.

Izuku laughed at the ribbing, jogging over with his things. “I had to stop to see Aizawa-san! He had a healing session this morning and he’s supposed to be taking it easy. I brought my phone with me, so if he calls I might have to dip out early.”

“No.”

Izuku froze in confusion from where he was placing his water bottle down at the edge of the mat. “No?”

Shinsou pointed an accusatory finger towards the gym door. “No. Absolutely not.”

Izuku turned to look as the door closed behind four hero students. Bakugo sneers back at Shinsou while the red-head, Kirishima, has his arm slung around him and a bright grin on his face. The brunette from earlier, Uraraka, is bouncing excitedly on her heels, sandwiched between Kirishima and a very stiff-looking Iida. 

Izuku turns back to Shinsou. “I had nothing to do with this, I swear.”

“We saw you walking with your gym bag and got curious!” Uraraka chirped happily. “Is this where you train? Do you two train together? Can we join?”

“No,” Shinsou snapped. “This training is private. No hero students allowed.”

“Who fucking asked you?!” Bakugo snapped back, shrugging out from under Kirishima’s arm and taking a step forward. 

“Whoa, whoa,” Izuku stepped between them, hands held up placatingly. “No need to fight. We can work something out.”

“Didn’t know anyone from the hero course would be interested in training with Gen Ed students,” Shinsou carried on anyway. “Don’t you get enough attention during your hero training?”

“Who gives a shit about you and your Gen Ed ass?” Bakugo snarled. “I came to kick his ass, not yours! Deku, spar with me!”

“Wait, I want to spar, too!” Uraraka jumped forward to stand next to Bakugo. “Can I join you two? Please?”

“No.”

Izuku whined. “Shinsou, maybe--”

“No,” Shinsou insisted stubbornly. “This is supposed to be our training time together.”

“I see we have overstepped,” Iida announced, pushing up his glasses. “Perhaps we can come back another time. When will your next training session be open for new students to join?”

“Aw, c’mon!” Kirishima said, nudging Iida with his elbow. “This gym is huge! I bet we can share, can’t we? Or what if we just, like, observe this time? Right, Izuku?”

Shinsou turned to glare at the boy in question. “He calls you ‘Izuku?’ ”

Izuku turned bright pink. “Uhm--”

“What’s it matter to you what Shitty Hair calls him?!” Bakugo demanded hotly, stepping onto the mat. “What’re you, his fucking keeper?!”

Shinsou stepped up to meet him. “I’m his fucking friend --”

Uraraka, appearing suddenly between them, poked a harsh finger into Bakugo’s shoulder. “With an attitude like that, who would want to train with you? No wonder he doesn’t want you here!”

“I don’t want you here either.”

“Dude. Harsh,” Kirishima cried foul, adding himself to the mix. “Why don’t we all cool it for a sec and start over?”

“Kirishima-kun is right!” Iida interjected. “As students of this prestigious school, we should be conducting ourselves—”

“Shut up, Glasses!”

“Don’t talk to Iida like that! He’s allowed to talk!”

“Yes, thank you, Uraraka-san—”

“If anyone should shut up,” she cut him off, “it should be you, Bakugo! You’re so mean!”

“Hah?!”

“You are coming off a little intense, man.”

“WHO ASKED YOU?!”

“Who asked any of you to be here?”

THWACK THWACK

Startled into silence, the bickering students turned as one to face the sudden noise. Izuku, annoyed and still standing in the middle of the mat, had put boxing mitts on and had slapped them together to get their attention. 

“Now that I have your attention,” Izuku began, “we’re going to go over some ground rules. First rule is, everyone shows respect for their teammates. Ok?”

“What—”

“Second rule,” Izuku barreled on, “is that when you are on my mat, you will respond with ‘yes, sir,’ or ‘no, sir.’ Lastly,” Izuku points towards the mat at the group’s feet, “there are no shoes allowed on my mat. If you can respect those rules, then go change and join us back here. If not, you are free to go. Sound good?”

“The fuck? I ain't calling you jack shit!”

“Then you are free to go,” Izuku dismisses breezily. “What about the rest of you? Were you serious about wanting to train with us?”

Iida stands at attention immediately. “Yes, sir! As the representative of class 1-A, I apologize for our behavior! We will change into the appropriate attire immediately!”

“Me, too!” Uraraka chimes.

“Hell yeah! I mean, uh, hell yeah sir!” 

Izuku bites back a grin and turns to Bakugo. “Well?”

“The fuck? I already told you, I ain’t agreeing to your fucking rules!”

Izuku smiles beatifically at him. “Then you can get off my mat. The rest of you, go change and meet me back here.”

Uraraka cheers, rushing off ahead of the boys. Kirishima claps Bakugo on the shoulder and spins him in the direction of the boys' locker room. “Don’t worry, Izuku, I’ll talk to Blasty here!”

“Oi!”

When the door to the adjoined locker rooms closes behind the hero students, Shinsou turns with a raised brow to Izuku. “Sir? Since when?”

“Since everyone here wants to act like a bunch of babies,” Izuku replied smartly, giving Shinsou a look of his own. “I know they’re a little overbearing, but that was a little much, don’t you think?”

Shinsou scowled. “You don't get it - they already have this kind of training during the day! This is the only time I get to train like this. And,” Shinsou argued, flushing slightly, “they’ve been all over you all day. What, are they obsessed with you now or something?”

Izuku let his irritation loosen at Shinsou’s admission. They really hadn’t gotten much time together today, and he would be lying if he said he hadn’t been looking forward to this training session with Shinsou. 

Still, Izuku had been surrounded by a lot of yelling today as it was and he was not about to tolerate more of it on his mat. 

“They’re a little excited,” Izuku conceded, “but having them join training every once in a while wouldn’t hurt. We can still have time to train one on one while they’re paired up, and you get to practice with people who have different ranges than I do. Besides,” and here, Izuku cuts him a mischievous grin, “how good would it feel to flip Bakugo on his ass?”

Shinsou snorted a laugh.

“See?” Izuku pointed at him in triumph. “This could be a lot of fun! We’ll let them join tonight and then we can figure a schedule out afterwards, if they’re even serious about joining. We’ll make sure we plan time just for us two, ok?”

Shinsou narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “And we’ll do dinner this week?”

“And we’ll do dinner this week,” Izuku conceded easily. 

Finally, a relaxed grin found its way across Shinsou’s face.

“...I don’t actually have to call you ‘sir,’ do I?”

“You absolutely do.”

Shinsou’s groan was drowned out as the doors to the locker rooms reopened and they were joined once again by the hero students.

“Alright!” Izuku clapped his hands together. “Ready to train?”

“Yes, sir!” Uraraka, Iida, and Kirishima sounded off enthusiastically, drowning out Shinsou’s lazy affirmative. 

Izuku turned to the steaming blonde. “Bakugo?”

Hands fisted and shoulders caved threateningly, Bakugo visibly shook as he growled out an approximation of noises that were as close to a ‘yes, sir,’ as he was going to get at this point. Close enough! 

Izuku grinned. “Then let’s get started!”

***

“You guys are doing great!” Izuku encouraged Uraraka and Iida as they were ending training by practicing their front and back rolls. Shinsou had his arms crossed beside him, watching the hero students as they rolled somewhat inelegantly across the mat. 

On the opposite side of the mat, Izuku had Kirishima and Bakugo wearing each other out with a grappling exercise that had one boy laughing and the other cursing as they were pretty equally matched when it came to strength and general technique. For beginners, Izuku had to admit they weren’t half bad!

“Ugh!” Uraraka sounded a complaint when her roll had her coming out on her side again, instead of back in her starting position. “I’m doing this all wrong!”

“You’re learning,” Izuku countered easily, crouching down beside her. “Here, we’ll do this next go together! Ready?”

At her nod, Izuku went through the rolls one step at a time, emphasizing the position of the neck as they went along. Uraraka popped up with a triumphant whoop as she managed to stay in a relatively straight line this time. 

Still seated on the floor, Izuku reached up to offer her a high five. “See? You did it! And you’ll just keep getting better with practice!”

“You just wait!” She challenged, pointing a finger at Shinsou. “I’ll be catching up to you in no time!”

“Ooh, scary,” Shinsou replied sarcastically, though his lips were curved with a slight smile. 

“This was a very informative session!” Iida chimed in, chopping a hand in Izuku’s direction. “Thank you for instructing us, Midoriya-kun!”

“Of course!” Izuku smiled, standing quickly. Maybe a little too quickly, he realized, when a rush of dizziness overcame him and his steps faltered.

“Whoa.” A strong grip at his elbow helped to steady him. “You alright?”

Izuku gave his head a shake to clear it of the sudden dizzy spell and looked up into Shinsou’s concerned gaze. “I’m alright, just got a little dizzy there for a sec,” he tried to laugh off. “Guess that last drill really got to me!”

Shinsou raised a skeptical brow. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Izuku said, easing out of Shinsou’s grip. “It’s just been a long week and I don’t think I had enough water today.”

“It’s literally Monday.”

“Yeah, but like a really long Monday.”

Shinsou rolls his eyes at that, but doesn’t contradict him. “Let’s call it a night then. You go change and I’ll make the hero students clean up the gym.”

Izuku gives him the stink eye. “You should help, too.”

“I’ll supervise.”

That pulls a laugh from Izuku and he lets himself be pushed in the direction of the locker rooms.

“Oi! Where’s Deku going?!”

“Away from you.”

“COME AND SAY THAT TO MY FACE, ASSHOLE!”

The locker room door closes on Shinsou and Bakugo’s bickering, leaving Izuku in relative silence. He pauses, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He really must not have had enough water today if something as routine as that last drill had his head spinning. 

Maybe Aizawa-san wasn’t the only one who should have called an early day today, Izuku thinks to himself wryly, before turning his thoughts back to their new training group. 

Leaving Shinsou and the hero students unsupervised for any amount of time was a recipe for disaster and Izuku was not about to be held responsible for any damage they did to the gym. If he was fast enough, he’d make it back in time for the arguing to have ended and the cleaning to have hopefully begun. 

Taking a moment to make sure the small bout of vertigo had completely passed, he made his way to the locker he was borrowing and quickly changed his clothes, stuffing everything else back into his gym bag. 

“Midoriya.”

Izuku nearly jumps out of his skin at the unfamiliar voice. Turning, he came face-to-face with the intense hero student with the Cruella de Vil inspired hairstyle that had been staring him down in the cafeteria earlier. 

He doesn’t think he ever actually got the kid’s name.

Izuku breathes out shakily and pats a hand over his pounding heart. “You scared me.” He chuckles uncertainly when the hero student doesn’t do much more than continue to stare at him. “Um, sorry, I don’t think I caught your name…?”

That gets a blink out of the hero student. A pause. “I’m Todoroki Shouto.”

Shit, had he already introduced himself and Izuku just forgot? He flushes to the roots of his curly hair. “Sorry, I’m pretty bad at names-"

“You’re in Ged Ed, aren’t you?”

Why was everyone always so concerned about him being in general education? “Yes,” Izuku answers slowly, really not wanting to follow up with asking why?

Todoroki-kun nods once at his answer and Izuku can clearly see the cogs turning in his head. “But you attended the heroics field trip to the USJ.”

“....yes.” Izuku thought this should have been pretty self-explanatory. They had both been there after all…

“I’ve been curious about you, Midoriya Izuku,” Todoroki-kun intones heavily, still keeping his distance across from Izuku in the locker room. 

Izuku doesn’t think he likes where this conversation is going. 

“Curious?” He squeaks uncomfortably, praying that he’s spent enough time in the locker room that Shinsou will come looking for him. Heck, he’d even settle for Bakugo right about now. 

“What is a Gen Ed student doing attending a field trip specifically designed for hero students?” Todoroki-kun continues, ignoring Izuku’s obvious discomfort. “I assumed this was another one of Aizawa’s logical ruses. Then, I saw the way you fought at the USJ. You incapacitated the villains’ leader without the evident use of a quirk.”

“Oh, uh, that’s cause—”

“I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to engage with a close combat quirk if your own quirk wasn’t also related to close combat,” Todorki-kun barrels on. Izuku isn’t sure if he’s offended or not. “But that you clearly had the combat experience and that Aizawa had allowed you to attend in the first place got me thinking.”

Izuku...doesn’t think he likes where this is going. He almost doesn’t want to ask, but, “Got you thinking about...what?”

“The reason Aizawa let you get involved with 1-A,” Todoroki-kun answered, blue and grey colored eyes boring unblinkingly into Izuku. “The only reason a Gen Ed student would be allowed to shadow a hero class, your evident skill in martial arts—”

“I mean, ‘skill’ is pretty relative—”

“Enough that you, a Gen Ed student, are currently training a group of heroics students,” Todoroki-kun cuts him off mercilessly. “Combined with your confidence in your ability to take down a touch-activated disintegration quirk without causing harm to yourself, the physical similarities, but more importantly, the conversation you had with Aizawa after class today—”

“You were listening?!”

“The difference in names was a smart cover, but like everything else Aizawa does, it’s obvious that it’s just another logical ruse. Midoriya,” Todoroki-kun pauses, the moment heavy and charged with anticipation. “You’re Aizawa’s secret love child, aren’t you?”

Izuku’s grip on his bag loosens and it drops to the floor with a dull fwump. 

“I assume your quirk is similar in nature to Aizawa’s,” Todoroki-kun continues despite the lack of affirmation. “That would explain why you weren’t suited to taking the heroics entrance exam. It would also explain why Aizawa didn’t recommend you himself for the heroics course. The connection would have been too easy to make—”

“Why a secret?”

Todoroki-kun pauses, finally registering the livid, burning glare directed at him. “What?”

“You said secret love child. Why’s it gotta be a secret? What makes you look at me and think that?” When the hero student doesn’t answer right away, Izuku demands furiously, “What about me screams bastard to you?!”

Todoroki-kun blinks slowly, not having anticipated this reaction. “Your last names are different.”

“And?” Izuku demands. “That makes me unwanted? Makes me fucking illegitimate?”

Izuku only scoffs when no response comes from the frozen hero student. Izuku snatches his bag up from the floor and storms past Todoroki-kun, making it a point to knock shoulders as he goes. 

Izuku flings the door open but catches it before it can close on him. He turns one last time to glare at Todoroki-kun. “Maybe next time, try actually getting to know somebody before you open your big, fat mouth. That sounds like something a hero would do, don’t you think?”

This time, it’s Todoroki-kun who flinches when the locker room door is slammed shut. 

Chapter Text

“This is so weird.”

Izuku hummed in question from his spot in the back seat next to Shinsou. Mic-sensei was driving, trying to cajole Aizawa-san into singing along to a song that was playing on the radio. Aizawa-san, fresh from his final healing session with Recovery Girl and sitting in the passenger seat, was doing a pretty impressive job of ignoring him by pretending to be passed out against the window. 

With a smile, Izuku turned away from the antics in the front to face his friend. “What’s weird?”

Shinsou stared back at him. “Your guardian is Eraserhead.”

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t tell me that Aizawa was Eraserhead.”

“Should I have?”

“Yes,” Shinsou hissed, reaching across with his unfairly long arms to jab his fingers into Izuku’s side. Izuku attempted to curl over to protect his ribs against Shinsou’s attack, but was jerked to a stop by his seatbelt. “Do you know who Eraserhead is?”

“Uhm, a hero?”

Shinsou jabbed his unprotected side repeatedly. 

“Mercy! Ow! Shinsou, mercy!” 

“Hey, hey!” Mic-sensei called over his music, eyes twinkling with mischief as he glanced in the rearview mirror. “You boys behaving yourselves? Don’t make me come back there!”

Shinsou scoffed at that, but crossed his arms and slumped back against his side of the car.

Izuku rubbed his abused side and pouted at Shinsou. “I thought everyone knew who Aizawa-san was. Isn’t the UA staff listed online or whatever?”

Shinsou is back to staring at him. “Eraserhead is an underground hero. He’d be a pretty shitty one if just anybody could look his civilian identity up on the web.”

“Language,” the underground hero in question warned without even opening his eyes. 

Shinsou makes a face at that, but doesn’t sass back. 

Izuku squints, recalling how Aizawa-san had tried to hand over his ID the first time they’d met, and he thinks, well, how was I supposed to know?

“Sorry, Shinsou,” Izuku shrugged. “Didn’t really think about it, I guess.”

“I can’t believe this,” Shinsou continued to grumble to himself. “The hero I wrote my entrance exam paper on is giving me a ride home. This is so embarrassing.”

At that, Izuku cut him a sly grin. “I bet he’d autograph it for you if you asked him nicely.”

When Shinsou made to lunge for his side again, Izuku was prepared. He pressed his back flat up against the car door and kicked his feet up onto the seat between them, using his legs against Shinsou's torso to hold his onslaught at bay. 

“What did I just say?!” Mic-sensei called from the front seat, wholly entertained by and one hundred percent adding to the chaos. “I will turn this car around!” 

Aizawa-san let out a long-suffering sigh.

***

“You’re on a short leash lately,” Iida Tensei, Pro Hero Ingenium, heckled Aizawa mercilessly as he and Mic joined him in the corner booth of a restaurant for dinner. 

“Three.” Aizawa held up his fingers to emphasize the number. “My ward has been involved in three separate, unrelated villain attacks.”

Tensei whistled low, impressed. “I’d say you’ve got your hands full, but from what I hear it sounds like he’s been the one taking care of you lately.” His smile straightened into a serious line. “I’m glad you’re alright, Shouta.”

Aizawa only grunted in response and reached for the menu with his now fully functioning hands. 

Mic wrapped an obnoxious arm around Aizawa’s shoulders and gave him a shake. “Shouta’s in tip-top shape thanks to his kid!”

“He’s not my kid.”

“You should have seen it, Tensei! Izuku made sure he had three meals a day - not jelly packs or protein bars, but real food! - and he made sure Aizawa got a full night’s rest and he kept him from returning to hero work before Recovery Girl cleared him!” Mic slumped back in the booth, staring off dreamily. “It was a thing of beauty.”

Aizawa gave Mic a hard enough shove that he nearly tumbled from the booth. 

The seriousness melted from Tensei’s face into another wide grin. “Sounds like he’s been a pretty good influence on you, Shouta.”

“Shut up. Order your food.” 

The heroes devolve into lighter topics as they order and are served their food. Mic elbowed Aizawa when he noticed him checking for notifications from Midoriya’s bracelet halfway through dinner, and Aizawa retaliated by stealing one of his dumplings to shut him up. Not one to back down, Mic took out his phone to show Tensei all of the humiliating photos he’d taken of his ward attempting to feed him the first few days they’d returned from the hospital.

Aizawa doesn’t bother trying to stop him. He’s well aware the bastard had already sent copies of the photos out to their friends the night they were taken. 

But as things usually did when heroes gathered together, conversation took a grim turn to the present state of affairs. 

"Two heroes have already been attacked," Tensei said, referring to the serial killer, Stain, who was currently targeting heroes. "If he follows his usual M.O. we can expect two more victims before he skips town." 

"There were no leads from those attacks?" Aizawa raised a brow in question, but wasn't surprised when Tensei only shook his head in answer. 

"Damn villains," Mic grumbled into his drink. "They're getting smarter and smarter every year, I'm telling ya."

"I have our sidekicks patrolling in pairs. One thing in common with his victims is they were alone when the attack happened. Hopefully keeping them in a group will keep them safe." Tensei ran a frustrated hand down his face, then turned to Aizawa. "The serial killer wasn't the only terrible thing to happen lately. How's UA? I was surprised when Tenya told me they were still going through with the Sports Festival."

Aizawa grunted, hoping to convey his thoughts on the matter with that single sound. 

Mic waved his chopsticks around and interjected. "You know Nedzu - he took the USJ as a personal insult. I'd like to see a villain try to get through the security measures he's got set up now."

"That's a relief at least." Tensei's lips quirked up into a wry smile. "The list of hero volunteers must have been through the roof."

"Most of the alumni in the area applied," Aizawa agreed, folding his arms with a pointed look.

Tensei only shook his head. "I'll do more good on the ground in Hosu than I will at the Sports Festival. I already talked it over with Tenya and he understands." 

"Give him a break, Shouta," Mic chided him. "If it was you, you'd make the same decision." 

And, well. Aizawa couldn't argue with that. 

“And besides, I planned out this visit so that I’d have the whole weekend to help him with training. I’ll be looking forward to evaluating how much he’s improved under your care, sensei,” Tensei squinted teasingly at Aizawa. 

“My teaching only goes so far. His performance will reflect the level of effort he’s put into his training,” Aizawa retorted swiftly. 

"That's all you have to say? How boring.” Tensei laughed at the glower Aizawa threw his way. "C'mon, sensei, don't be mad. I'll buy you another drink." 

"No." 

"Then you buy me another drink," Tensei laughed, ignoring Aizawa and waving their waitress back over. 

***

The kid leaned out of the window as the car pulled away, frantically waving his goodbyes to the trio on the doorstep. Aizawa adjusted the large bag full of leftovers the Shinsous had sent along with Midoriya and moved it to the floor between them, where it hopefully wouldn’t get knocked over with the kid’s antics. 

Midoriya sat happily back in his seat once the car turned the corner and the Shinsous were no longer in sight. Mic shot him a grin in the rearview mirror. “You have fun, little listener?”

“Yeah!” Midoriya enthused, nearly bouncing in his seat. “Shinsou’s parents are so cool. Did you see his dad? He’s huge! Do you think Shinsou will end up being that tall? And his quirk is really cool, too! It’s called Stop-Go and apparently it works like Newton’s Law? Not the gravity one, but the one about objects in motion? Basically, he can stay awake for days and he can stay asleep for days!”

“Sounds like your kind of quirk, Shouta,” Mic snickered. Aizawa kicked the back of his seat. 

“I think Shinsou looks like his dad the most, but he acts so much like his mom!” Midoriya babbled on, ignoring them. “He’s, like, the mini-me version of her. His quirk takes after hers, too! But hers is a bit more like persuasion, I think? Or compulsion, I forget which - but apparently the more stubborn you are, the harder it is for her to use, so she said it’s especially frustrating to use on Shinsou since he’s so hard-headed! Who are you?”

Tensei, who had accepted a ride home from Mic, turned to grin at the kid from the passenger seat, amusement from the near-constant babbling clear on his face. “I’m a friend of Aizawa’s, Iida Tensei. I heard all about how you stepped up at the USJ to defend the class - you’re one brave kid!”

“I - what? No!” Midoriya squeaked in embarrassment. “I panicked the whole time! I - wait. Did you say Iida? As in, you’re Iida Tenya’s older brother?”

Tensei’s grin widened. “You’re friends with my Tenya?”

“Oh yeah, Iida’s great! We’ve been training together recently - he’s probably the most diligent person I’ve ever met! Makes for a great training partner. He talks about you a lot, too! He said you run your own hero agency! Are you here to see him compete in the Sports Festival?”

“Not this year,” Tensei shrugged off casually. “I need to return to the agency, so we’ll be training this weekend instead.”

Midoriya blinked at the response. “You’re - you’re not staying to see Iida compete?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Tensei continued. “But Tenya’s already made plans to have it recorded - I’m sure by the time I come back to visit, he’ll have the recording time-stamped and a full written evaluation of his performance ready for me to review.” Tensei shook his head with a smile, clearly imagining how overboard Tenya could be despite his uptight personality. 

“Did your agency not give you the time off?” Midoriya asked, confused. 

“Nothing like that,” Tensei waved a hand in what he must have thought was a reassuring gesture. “I’m needed at the agency for an open case we’re working, so time off now just wouldn’t have made sense.”

“...oh.”

Aizawa cut a glance to his ward at his sudden change in tone. The happy and contented expression he’d had on since he’d been picked up had been quickly replaced with a guardedness Aizawa hadn’t seen since the first night he’d met the kid. 

“Iida told me that your agency is known for having the most amount of heroes employed, though?” Midoriya questioned, his tone losing the friendly edge and being rapidly replaced with suspicion. 

“Sidekicks,” Tensei corrected, “and we do!”

“Then, I don't get it. Aren't they helping you?” Midoriya followed up immediately. 

"Of course they are," Tensei answered, somewhat surprised by the question. "That doesn't change that I'm the senior hero at the agency who's been assigned to the case."

"So it's not that you don't have enough people working the case, it's that you don't trust the ones who are." 

All three heroes turned to look at the kid in varying degrees of disbelief, with Mic stealing glances in the rearview mirror so his surprise could be split between the car's occupants and the road. 

"What? Am I wrong?" Midoriya challenged. "Iida said you have the most heroes employed at your agency - sidekicks, whatever. So it's not that you don't have enough people available to work the case or cover for you, right? It's that you don't trust your team enough to handle it without you there." 

"It's not that," Tensei tried to explain and rectify the mood. "We have an amazing group of heroes and sidekicks to work with - it's just because of the nature of the case that I have to be there." 

"That doesn't make sense," Midoriya continued to argue. "Being a hero is the same thing as being a police officer or a doctor, isn't it? It's never on one person to solve a case or cure a patient - that's why they have a team to help them."

"C'mon now, little listener," Mic attempted to placate him, pulling up in front of Aizawa's apartment building. "You know that's not fair. There's a lot of personal sacrifices heroes have to make for the job - it's not perfect, but we try our best." 

“Yeah, well, while you’re busy being everyone else’s hero, your brother is going to his first high school tournament alone." Midoriya snatched up the food bag and threw the car door open. "It was nice to meet you, Ingenium. Have a nice day at work.” 

Tensei and Mic both winced as the kid slammed the door shut behind him and stomped his way up to the apartment. 

Aizawa leaned forward and socked Tensei in the shoulder. "You're supposed to be good with kids." 

"I'm only good with Tenya," Tensei whined, rubbing at his shoulder. "And you know he's a completely different breed of teenager!" 

"Maybe you should talk to him, Sho," Mic worried, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel. 

Aizawa sighed and opened up his own door. "I'll see you on Monday." 

"Text me after you talk with Izuku! Let me know how it goes!" Mic fretted after him. Aizawa waved him off and followed after his ward to the apartment. 

***

When Aizawa came into the apartment, he was welcomed by the sight of his ward aggressively putting away container after container of food. 

Aizawa leaned up against the kitchen counter and let his ward work his frustration out on the cupboards and frig. 

When he ran out of food containers to put away, his ward finally turned to him with a huff. Aizawa quirked his brow and waited. 

"It's just - he -" Midoriya broke off with a frustrated little growl. "Mic-sensei said the Sports Festival was supposed to be like the Olympics. The Olympics! He's seriously not going to go see his little brother compete in the Olympics?!"

Aizawa just managed to withhold his eyeroll. Of course Mic over-hyped the Sports Festival to the kid. 

"The scale of the fanfare that goes along with the festival will most likely rival what you are used to experiencing during an Olympic year," Aizawa acknowledged. "It's an opportunity for hero students to demonstrate their skills and to gain recognition for internships. However, at its core, the festival is still just a high school event." 

"But a major high school event," the kid insisted. "An important one. Both of Shinsou's parents took time off work so they could be there! And, like, I know not everyone's situation is the same - there were times when I was younger that we couldn't afford for my mom to take time off work. But his situation isn't like that and he can take the time off and Iida gets so excited every time he talks about his brother. I don't get it!" 

Aizawa grunted in acknowledgment. "I can see why you would be confused. As much as I hate to admit it, I've known Tensei for a long time. I've seen how he looks after his brother and how he helped to raise him. Just like your case, the case Tensei is assigned to is one we cannot disclose to even our closest friends or family. If you can trust nothing else, you can trust me when I say if he had any other option, Tensei would be at the festival." 

The apartment lapsed into silence as Midoriya glared at the floor. Aizawa waited him out. 

"It's just…" Midoriya's voice had thickened and Aizawa braced himself for tears. "My mom worked so hard and she always came to my tournaments. And… I mean, I never even thought to ask you, but what about you? I know you're not allowed to tell people about me, and you spend all of your time with me, and I don't remember you saying anything about your own family, but…" 

Aizawa sighed. At least this topic was easily addressed. "I've been on my own for a while now. There's no need for you to worry about me or my personal situation. I realize that the decision to put you under my custody may have seemed like a decision made in the heat of the moment. It wasn't. I may have been the responding hero on your case, but both my personal and my professional situation made the most sense to look after you. You're not putting me out, problem child."

Midoriya gave a wet sniffle, and if he was looking up, Aizawa would bet there would be tears. He seemed to dither for a moment, and then abruptly launched himself into Aizawa's side. 

Aizawa grunted at the sudden weight thrown at him, but allowed his ward to cling to him and hide his face against him. 

"Still," came his ward's muffled protest. "It sucks."

"Yeah," Aizawa sighed and reached a hand up to pat at his back. "It sucks." 

Chapter Text

"Midoriya," Aizawa called while he checked his pockets for his things. "Let's go, problem child."

He heard an affirmative come from Midoriya's room, along with some banging and general running around. 

Aizawa's phone pinged with a message from Mic, wanting an update on their ETA. Followed immediately by another with directions to the commentators booth, as if Aizawa wasn't already familiar with the layout of the Sports Festival's stadium. 

When a third came in, Aizawa silenced his notifications. 

"Ok, I'm ready!"

Aizawa looked up and took in the sight of his overeager ward. He was immediately filled with dread. 

"No."

"I've been hearing that a lot lately," Izuku commented, currently trying to skirt around Aizawa to get his shoes from the genkan. "I haven't done anything, though?"

"What" - is that abomination - "are you wearing?"

The kid broke out into a wide, delighted grin. "Cool, huh? Shinsou's dad made them for the festival and he made one for me, too! Look at the back!"

Midoriya spun around to show off SHINSOU written in big, blocky white letters across his shoulders, which stood out starkly against the dark purple of the shirt. Spinning back around, the kid gripped the hem of the shirt to show off the obnoxiously large picture of Shinsou Hitoshi that had been plastered on the front. 

With a muted horror, Aizawa noted that the top right and bottom left quadrants of the kid's face had also been covered in a garish purple paint. In his hand, he held a cardboard cutout of Shinsou's head on a stick.

Midoriya saw him eyeballing it and held up the sign proudly. "This was my idea. I mentioned it to Shinsou's dad and he was all for it! It's a little big though," he mused, holding the sign over his own face as if to showcase its unnatural size. 

"Go change. Now."

"What?! No way!" Midoriya immediately protested.

Aizawa rubbed at his temples and attempted to explain as reasonably as he could, "You cannot go like that to the festival."

"Who said?! It's not against the rules - Shinsou's dad already checked and Mic-sensei said it wouldn't be a problem!"

Of course he did, Aizawa cursed, realizing this must have been the real reason for the incessant texting. Bastard had been waiting for his reaction.

"And besides, it's a great way to show Shinsou we're there to cheer him on!"

"I'm a teacher. I have to be unbiased," Aizawa drolled, stepping to block his ward from the genkan. 

"Aww, c'mon Aizawa-san!" Midoriya whined. "How else is he supposed to spot us in the crowd if we don't have our signs?"

"You are not going to be in the crowd. You are going to be in the commentators booth with me. He won't be able to see you from there."

"Maybe he can't see my sign, but he can feel if I have it or not."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not!"

"Now, problem child."

They glared each other down, Aizawa's pride refusing to give in to his ward's beguiling green eyes this time. 

"...if I leave the sign, can I keep the face paint?"

"No."

"Aw, c'mon! I spent all morning on it!"

"...fine."

"Yes!" 

***

Aizawa sunk down further into his capture weapon to hide his amusement. 

Beside him, Mic continued to call out the play-by-play of the first round of the Sports Festival, egged on by the reactions of his ward.

Midoriya sat on the other side of Mic, gasping in both shock and awe at the display on the field. Physically, he vacillated between leaning forward in his seat, pulling himself up until he was half-standing, and then throwing himself against the very back of his chair, hands brought up so he’d have to watch from between his fingers. 

While Aizawa had been mildly concerned at the start that his ward’s excitement would lead to hyperventilation, Mic had eaten up the kid’s energy and projected it back whole-heartedly into his commentary. 

“First-time viewers bring a different kind of energy,” Mic had confided unnecessarily with an impish grin at the start of the first event. “Makes you want to exceed their expectations.” 

Midoriya leapt to his feet as Shinsou crossed the finish line and crowed his excitement. Beside him, Mic channeled the kid’s enthusiasm into his commentary, which he was currently giving at a slightly louder volume than normal in order to drown out his ward’s cheering from being picked up by the mic. 

His ward slumped back in his seat with a gusty breath, turning to Aizawa with wide eyes and smudged face paint. “Whoa.”

Aizawa merely quirked a brow in acknowledgment. 

“Wild, right?” Mic smiled, flicking off the speaker and leaning over towards Midoriya. “What’d you think of the first event, little listener?”

“That. Was. Crazy!” Midoriya flailed his arms to emphasize his point. “There was so much going on - and like, I’m confused about what the rules are? This was supposed to be an individual event, right? Why were they allowed to use their quirks on each other like that? Some kids are still being thawed out!”

“The Sports Festival is meant for students to be able to demonstrate their skills. That includes both how they use their quirk and how they counteract other quirks,” Aizawa explained dispassionately, watching the students below as they scrambled to prepare for the second event. 

Midoriya’s face scrunched up to show his displeasure with that response. “Yeah, okay, but what about sportsmanship? Shouldn’t that still be important? They could get through that whole obstacle course without sabotaging it for anyone else.”

“They could,” Aizawa agreed. “However, a hero will have to be able to adapt to any obstacle they may encounter in the field, and that includes responding to and avoiding errant quirks. It also includes using your quirk to your advantage in order to give yourself the best possible chance of success.”

Midoriya pursed his lips, still unsatisfied. "I mean, okay, but is everyone in this festival trying to be a hero? This feels like it’s made so only hero students can show off. Sports Festivals were supposed to be about competing with your friends and having fun with your class. And yeah, you still want to win, but you don’t hurt other players to do it.”

“Sports Festivals of the past didn’t have potential careers in a competitive and extremely selective industry on the line.” 

“And a high school Sports Festival is supposed to be what makes or breaks a career?” The kid makes a face at that, and Aizawa can only agree with the sentiment. “Shinsou said this would be better suited for kids who couldn’t pass the entrance exam cause they couldn’t fight robots, but this is just fighting more robots! And each other! They used bombs! This is more like the Hunger Games than the Olympics." 

Aizawa could see Mic mouthing hunger games in confusion and cut him off before he could get them off on a tangent. 

“It’s a flawed system that heavily favors a particular subset of quirks,” he conceded easily. “I’ve spoken at length with Nedzu on changing it.” 

Midoriya hummed at that, dissatisfied. “It's just… That last event felt a lot like cutting other people down just to make yourself look taller. That’s not the kind of hero I’d want to be.”

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s with the atmosphere in here?” Mic cuts in, tired of being stuck on the sidelines of their conversation. “Shouta, quit conscripting him into your radical beliefs --”

“Improving a flawed system is hardly radical.” 

“-- and let him enjoy his first Sports Festival! This is supposed to be fun . Enjoy the festival now, plan the revolution later.” Then he grumbled, “And maybe if you actually put together a slideshow presentation - like I told you to the last time - people would pay more attention to you.”

"It's a waste of time."

"Some people are visual learners, Shouta, you know this." 

Any further argument was cut off as the second round of the festival began. Despite his ward's moral dilemma with the first event, Midoriya remained just as engaged and vocal during the second event, nearly falling from his seat when time was called and Shinsou had officially made it into the third and final event. When Midoriya went to lean forward to get a better view of the students as they were dismissed from the stadium, Aizawa tsked and reached across to pull his seat back. 

"What?" Midoriya protested indignantly. "Who's going to see me from up here?"

"If you stay away from the window? No one."

Aizawa hid another grin at his ward's pouting face. 

Mic wrapped up his commentary for the last event and shut off the broadcasting system with a flourish. "Whew - I’m hungry! What do you say, little listener? You ready for lunch?”

While the kid whooped in agreement, Aizawa checked the messages on his phone. “Tensei won’t be joining us,” he stated, repocketing the device and rising from his seat for a stretch. “Lunch Rush should have food available in the staff room. Let’s go.”

“Wait,” Midoriya blinked. “You said Tensei, right? As in, Ingenium?”

“Mm,” Aizawa hummed. “Ingenium. He’s going to spend the lunch hour with his brother instead.”

“You mean he’s here?” the kid blurted out in surprise. “But I thought - I mean, he said -”

“Guess he must have been given a good reason to change his mind,” Mic teased, giving Midoriya a playful nudge. 

“He really came to the festival?” Midoriya looked to Aizawa for confirmation. At his nod, a complicated mix between satisfaction and guilt played across the kid’s face. “I know you probably want me to say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”

“Don’t be,” Aizawa grunted, making his way to the door. “You spoke your mind and changes were made because of it. It was a logical outcome.” 

“It was a logical outcome,” Mic mocked from behind him. “Don’t let him fool you, Izuku, he’s been acting like the cat that got the canary ever since Tensei told us he was coming. But forget about Tensei’s plans - we were talking about our lunch plans. Are you joining us in the staff room, kiddo? Or are you meeting up with Shinsou?”

“I’ll go see how Shinsou’s doing!” Midoriya chirped immediately, emotions bouncing back in the way only teenagers could seem to manage. 

“That’s the spirit! And, hey, while you’re there, text me what kind of milk tea flavors they got. The cafeteria always has better options than what they offer in the staff room,” Mic lamented.

“You got it!” The kid agreed, preening under the fond hair-ruffle Mic gave him in thanks. “I’ll see you guys after lunch!”

***

“Is this a joke to you?”

Shouto could see he’d miscalculated how far his performance in these first two events would push his father’s temper. He’d been expecting this response, obviously -- it was the same response he always got whenever he refused to use his father’s quirk -- he just hadn’t been expecting it this soon. 

Shouto isn’t sure how he could have expected anything less. Had he really thought that UA could somehow force Endeavor to comply with the rules about parents not being allowed past the stands? That he wouldn’t have had to deal with his father until he returned home after the festival?

Quite honestly, he should have known better. 

“Are you even listening to me, Shouto?” his father demands, heat flaring in the empty hallway he’d been cornered in. “Your petty tantrum has gone far enough. Your performance in this festival has been an embarrassment. Your placement in these events is a mockery of the talent and the power you were born with and it's clear I have been far too lenient with your disobedience.”

“The festival isn’t over yet,” Shouto grounds out, fists clenched at his sides. “Placement in the first two events means nothing -- it’s only placing in the final event that matters.”

“If that’s what you think, then you are more of a fool than I thought,” Endeavor snapped, stepping closer, flames rising. “You have all of Japan watching your abysmal performance. How do you expect to surpass All Might and become the Number One without using your fire?”

“I don’t need your fire,” Shouto hissed. “I'll become the number one hero without it--”

“You are testing my patience,” Endeavor growled, the flames on his face and around his shoulders flaring. “Your disgraceful performance is an embarrassment to the Todoroki name. You are my son, my masterpiece. Everything you do is a representation of me.”  

“Then no one should be disappointed with my performance,” Shouto snapped. “Your career peaked at number two on the charts. If everything I do is a reflection of your capabilities, why should anyone be expecting anything different from me?” 

The rapid increase in temperature let him know he had pushed Endeavor too far. His father’s flames alight the hallway in a wash of orange and sweat immediately beads and drips down Shouto’s face. 

“You disrespectful, insolent --!” Endeavor snarls, advancing on Shouto with his fist pulled back. 

Shouto consoles himself with the thought that Endeavor will not be able to damage his face. It wouldn’t be able to be written off as an injury from the previous two events, and a head injury now could negatively impact his performance in the final event. He tenses the muscles in his abdomen instead to absorb the blow. 

A cup explodes against the side of Endeavor’s head, dousing his flames temporarily before dropping harmlessly to the floor between them.

Shocked, they slowly raise their gazes from the dented cup to each other. The eye contact seems to spur Endeavor back into a temper as his flames reignite and he rounds furiously on the culprit-- 

Only to take a second cup straight to the face. 

Shouto turns to gape incredulously at Midoriya Izuku, the quirkless general education student that took down a villain at the USJ and now dared to assault the Number Two Hero in all of Japan. 

Endeavor’s flames relit with a vengeance, burning through and curdling the beverage that soaked his hair and suit. His flames reached out to melt and eat away at the empty plastic cups. Shouto scrunched his nose at the spoiled, sour smell that now filled the hallway. 

“You dare --”

“Only students and staff are allowed here,” Midoriya interrupts his father, fearless behind his face paint or impossibly naive. “You’re going to have to leave.”

“Do you know who I am?” Endeavor advances on Midoriya, Shouto completely forgotten for the moment. “And you dare--”

“I know you’re not supposed to be here,” Midoriya interrupts again, glaring straight back into his father’s eyes. “I know you’re not supposed to be using your quirk while you’re here either. I also know that Principal Nedzu would be very interested to know that someone was threatening his students on school property.” 

Endeavor straightens to his full height, towering over Midoriya with flames that danced and reached for the ceiling. “You impertinent brat. How I speak to my son is none of your business. Leave, before you make yourself more of a nuisance than you already have.” 

“Funny, I didn’t realize talking with someone involved raising your hands to them,” Midoriya shot back recklessly. “Sounds more like abuse to me.” 

“Midoriya,” Shouto managed to choke out past his shock, “stop--”

“You know nothing,” Endeavor spat. “Get out of here before I --”

“Before you what? Are you going to hit me, too?” Midoriya demanded and Shouto felt his spirit leave his body. “Go ahead and try. I’ve got the whole thing on camera.”

Endeavor froze, sweeping his gaze along Midoriya from head to foot as if a camera would magically appear on his person. “An empty threat,” Endeavor growled. “You have nothing.”

“Don’t I?” Midoriya challenged, throwing his hand out -- still holding an empty beverage carrier, Shouto noted with a small amount of hysteria -- to point along the hallway. “Everyone knows that UA increased their security after the USJ incident, and that includes their surveillance system. Every parent received a notice about the security measures before the Sports Festival, so this shouldn’t be a surprise to you.”

As Endeavor finally turned to see the small security camera with its winking red light aimed directly at them, Midoriya mocked, “Smile and wave, Todoroki-san.”

“You think you’re quite smart, don’t you?” Shouto watched, frozen, as Endeavor’s flames crept back to their default size. As Endeavor backed down. “How I raise my son is none of your business. Shouto is bound for greatness the likes of you will never understand. Stay away from Shouto, he’s out of your league.”

Endeavor turns, glaring at Shouto as he passes back down the hall. “We’ll continue this conversation at home. Don’t embarrass me.” 

The two boys keep watch until the hero is gone from their sight and his clomping steps can no longer be heard. 

Stunned, Shouto looks first to the leftover ashes of the plastic cups, then to Midoriya. He jumps when he finds Midoriya’s green-eyed gaze already locked on him. 

Shouto doesn’t even know how to begin to process what just happened. And as such, continues to openly gape at Midoriya Izuku. 

“Well,” Midoriya finally breaks the silence, turning to glare back down the hallway. “What an asshole.” 

There is a burbling, bubbling feeling in Shouto’s gut, and he’s not sure if it’s nausea or laughter trying to claw its way up his throat. He squashes the feeling in fear of the former. 

With no response from Shouto, Midoriya rocks back on his heels and turns to leave. “You should be alright now. Good luck with the final event, I guess.”

“Wait.” Shouto isn’t sure what makes him call out, but Midoriya stops. He stares openly but waits while Shouto struggles with his emotions and the uncertainty of what trusting Midoriya could mean for him. 

But Shouto takes a deep breath and what finally falls from his mouth is, “Have you ever heard of quirk marriages?”

***

The chatter of the crowd carried down the hallway to where Izuku and Todoroki sat up against the wall, knees drawn in and Todoroki’s childhood heavy between them.

“I’m going to surpass him,” Todoroki finished his story calmly. “I’m going to become the number one hero and I’m going to do it without his quirk.”

Holy shit, Izuku thought, staring blankly at the empty drink carrier he was currently crushing between his hands. Holy shit. 

Honestly, Izuku had been hoping he’d never have to interact with Todoroki ever again after their conversation in the locker room. He’d been firmly of the opinion that Todoroki was nothing but a nosy jerk who didn’t know how to respect someone else’s privacy. And not to say that this suddenly excused his behavior from before or anything, but…

Well, it certainly explained a lot. 

Izuku took several deep breaths to try and calm the flush of temper he could still feel overheating his face. 

“Thanks for telling me, Todoroki.” 

The other teen didn’t react to his words, staring fixedly at the opposite wall instead. 

"You...were curious about how I learned martial arts before, right?" Izuku eventually continued, still fidgeting with the carrier in his hands. He took the slight tilt of Todoroki's head as a yes. "I learned martial arts because of my dad-"

"Aizawa."

"He's not my dad," Izuku snapped, turning fully to glare at the hero student in exasperation. 

That got a reaction from Todoroki, who turned to stare blankly at him. 

"It's true," Izuku insisted defensively. "He's - Aizawa-san is my guardian, but he is not my dad. No relation, okay?" 

"That doesn't make sense," Todorki stated in that irritatingly calm voice of his. 

"Yes, it does! My dad - my real dad - is just as much a piece of shit as your dad is." 

"I knew it," Todoroki said. "Your father is a hero, too."

"No!" Izuku shouted, frustrated. "Are you always this difficult? I'm going to explain everything, but, just, save all your questions and comments 'til the end, got it?"

Todoroki blinked at him and Izuki took it as a yes. Izuku huffed before turning his attention back to fiddling with the drink carrier. 

"My mom and dad weren't married when they had me," Izuku started, steamrolling past that tidbit before he could see Todoroki’s reaction. "It hadn't been such a big deal at first, when I was just a baby, but the older I got the more people started to talk. My dad wasn't around much even back then, so it was my mom who had to take the brunt of it."

Thinking back on all of the backhanded comments his mom had had to deal with growing up still made him burn up inside. He’d spent countless nights mourning all of the opportunities and friendships that had been closed off to her as a punishment for raising him; countless nights wondering if his mom would have been happier if he had just never been born. 

Countless nights over the years of him and his mom crying and yelling and trying to impress their love and worth into each other until it finally stuck. 

Izuku snuck a peek at Todoroki to make sure he was still paying attention. "We didn't live in the greatest area. My mom was young and worked part-time, and my dad's job didn't pay him much. That's what he had told my mom at the time, anyway. 

"Things got worse when I started school," Izuku went on. "Some of the parents from the school were so judgemental of my mom for not being married, and a lot of them wouldn't let their kids play with me because of it. I cried a bunch over it, and my mom begged my dad to get married because she thought that would fix everything. I remember them fighting about it a lot, but eventually, my dad gave in on one condition. He wanted to marry into my mom's side of the family and he wanted to take her name.

"My mom had been too relieved at the time to care about why taking her name was so important to him. She just wanted to get married to shut everyone up already, you know? 

"After they got married and made it official, he just didn't come home one day."

"A villain?" 

"No questions," Izuku chided, reaching over to give Todoroki's head a chop. "But, no, it wasn't a villain. He just up and left without saying anything. Mom freaked out, of course. He wasn't a great husband, but he was still my dad, you know? She called everyone and even reported him missing to the police. But we didn't get any real answers until the debt collectors came calling.

"It's not really like it is in the movies, but man, it was still horrible." Izuku thumped his head against the wall and spoke to the ceiling. There had been a literal dark period in his childhood where he and his mom never turned the lights on in the evening so no one would think they were home. There were more nights than not spent eating dinner in the closet, hiding together and hoping the banging and the men at the door would go away and never come back. 

"Turns out the only reason he agreed to marry my mom was because he was in debt up to his ears,” Izuku said, “and he thought the name change would throw them off. We had to move so many times because of them. They took basically everything the first time, so we had to get real creative with hiding our stuff after. And having them come around didn't help with stopping people from talking about us. Now I was the kid without a dad, my mom was an abandoned wife, and my family was always associated with trouble because of the collectors that always came around. It sucked.

"Things got better after a while," Izuku continued, a small grin quirking his lips just thinking about the happier memories of his childhood. "The collectors eventually stopped coming around - probably gave up on getting anything out of us and focused on finding my dad. We were able to get our lives back eventually. My mom worked a lot and ended up going back to school. We moved to a different neighborhood - a better one, where people didn't know us, and I actually made some friends. We had some lean times, but we were happy."

Izuku turned again to face Todoroki, smile gone. "I didn't see my dad again until I was ten. He just showed up at our apartment one night, begging for money. My mom told him no, of course, and told him to get out. He didn't.

"That was the first time I ever saw him hit my mom."

Todoroki's eyes widened, blue and grey eyes locked onto steady green. 

"I won't tell you how awful it was - you already know. Watching him do that to my mom made me so angry and I tried to make him leave. I really did. But what's a ten-year-old going to do against a grown man?”

Though he’d managed to say it so casually, he’d had nightmares of that night for months afterward. Reoccurring dreams of his mom being thrown to the floor with his dad standing above her and not stopping . Of rushing forward and being tossed aside again and again like it was nothing . Suffocating on feelings of weakness and failure and worthlessness for ever letting that man near the person he treasured most in the world. 

"One of our neighbors heard all the yelling and called the cops, so I guess you could say we got pretty lucky. It sure didn't feel like it, though. I just felt useless and weak, and like there was nothing I could do to protect my mom. 

"That's why I started training in martial arts. I told myself I would never be useless or defenseless again. That if he ever came around again, I would be able to do something and that it would be different. That no one would be able to hurt my mom again like he did. Especially right in front of me."

Izuku pointed to his cheek. "She had a nasty shiner right here for the longest time afterward. I hated looking at it and I was so angry for such a long time. But you want to know something, Todoroki?"

Izuku paused here until Todoroki gave a small nod in acknowledgment. "There was a lot I learned from martial arts - and I mean, like, a lot . But one of the things you figure out pretty early on is your range. How far your punch will actually reach, or if someone is actually close enough for you to kick. Since I take after my dad in height, you could say I get my reach because of him.

"But he didn't teach me how to throw a punch - I learned that myself. He didn't teach me how to turn my hips over for a proper kick, or what the proper grip was for grappling, or literally anything else. That was all me. I did that. I put in the time to learn and I'm the one who gets to decide what to do with that training. No one else. Me."

Todoroki is still staring at him, and his eyes are so wide now that Izuku can't see his eyebrows from under his bangs. Izuku smiles. "I'm not saying you and I had the same experiences growing up, I'm just saying that I can understand. We don't get a say in who our parents are or what genetics we get from them. But this is our life and we are the ones who get to decide how we live it. 

"So you're right, Todoroki. You're going to be the number one hero someday and you're going to do it using your quirk, not his. No one gets to tell you how to use your quirk, especially not that asshole. So if you want to be a hero that only uses ice? Do it. It's nobody's business but your own.

"It's your quirk, Todoroki. Use it to become the hero you want to be. And that guy? That guy who treats you and your family like trash and thinks he still gets any say in your life?" Izuku grins wide, reaching out a fist to his friend. "Fuck that guy."

Todoroki's wide gaze falls to Izuku's outstretched fist. Slowly, tentatively, he reaches back and presses his knuckles against Izuku's. They're cold. 

"Yeah," Todoroki's quiet voice can barely be heard over the sound of the crowd now that most of the spectators have returned to their seats. But the corner of his mouth is turned up slightly and there's a spark in his eyes that Izuku is positive he's never seen before. "Fuck that guy." 

***

“What’s this? Empty-handed, little listener?” Mic called out questioningly to Midoriya as the kid shut the door to the commentators booth behind him.

“...hm? Oh, uh, yeah,” the kid laughed awkwardly, reaching up to rub at his neck bashfully. Aizawa's eyes narrowed in suspicion at the kid's lackluster response. “I guess I got a little distracted and, um, forgot? About the drinks? But I can go and get some now!”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Mic waved him over, vacating his seat instead. “I’m sure you and Shinsou were having fun chit-chatting - no need to worry about running errands for old men like us!”

Midoriya spluttered. “You’re not that old!”

“That hurts me, little listener.” The hero reached out with a finger and smushed the kid’s nose as he passed. “This young and spritely hero will be back in a jiffy - don’t let Eraser lock me out, yeah?” 

"Okay," Midoriya responded, taking his seat and spinning in slow, distracted circles.

Aizawa observed this behavior for only a moment before turning to his phone. This was not the state he expected his ward to be in when he returned after having lunch with a friend. Luckily, he happened to know a certain rat that could give him access to the stadium’s security feeds for review later tonight. 

Knowing the trouble his ward was capable of getting involved in, he wasn’t about to take any chances.   

"Aizawa-san?"

Aizawa peered over at the kid from the corner of his eye, noting that the spinning had stopped but his preoccupied gaze was fixed to the floor. "Hm?"

"You're a hero...right?"

He took in a slow, patient breath and, while he assumed the answer was more than readily apparent by this point, he responded, "Yes."

Midoriya didn’t continue right away. Aizawa could see the thoughts racing behind his ward’s eyes and his instincts flared from the hesitation. He’d been separated from his ward for a single hour. What the hell could have possibly happened? 

As if to prove his instincts correct, Midoriya turned to meet his gaze with a determined one of his own. "I need your help." 

Chapter Text

“I really didn’t think the festival would end in a martial arts-style tournament! Shinsou was so cool!”

“Sure was, little listener!”

“He’s improved so much since we started training together! And when he used his quirk at the end? How awesome was that?!”

“He’s definitely got the element of surprise going for him!” 

“Yeah!” Izuku enthused before trailing off into a strained silence. “Hey, um, Mic-sensei?”

“Hmm?”

“I, uh, I said I was sorry…” 

“And I appreciate it, listener!” Mic tapped happily away at his phone, leaned back against the wall Izuku was currently trapped against in a wall sit. “Now hold those arms out straight, kiddo. I know you can do it!”

Izuku whined in protest, lifting his arms higher. 

“Hey, hey, none of that!” Mic-sensei tsked. “You’re lucky I’m the one here and not Eraser! We’d both be in trouble if he was,” he muttered, shuddering at the thought. 

“My legs are going to give out before Shinsou even gets here!” Izuku protested, watching the crowd of spectators pass by as they exited the stadium. “How is Shinsou going to find us if I’m collapsed on the floor?”

“You make a good point.” Mic-sensei only grins. “Then you better hope he shows up soon! Your punishment only ends once I’ve spotted them, so buck up!”

“But you’re not even looking! You’re texting on your phone!”

“I’ve got good vision.”

Izuku could only despair as his legs began to tremble from the effort to hold himself up. But he didn’t regret it! He had only been supporting his friend - that could never be a bad thing! 

…he was almost positive he could convince Aizawa-san it wasn’t a bad thing. 

Izuku caught sight of the Shinsou family’s purple hair as they exited the stadium and immediately perked up. He begged Mic-sensei to please let him go, Shinsou was going to walk right past them if he didn’t get his attention before they left! 

After hemming and hawing while the Shinsous got closer and closer to passing them by, Mic-sensei finally agreed to release him from his punishment. 

“Shinsou! Over here!” Izuku called out excitedly, stumbling only slightly on his wobbly legs. He waved both of his arms over his head to be seen above the crowd of people exiting the stadium. 

Mic-sensei smothered a snicker behind his hand but Izuku ignored him and lifted up onto his tiptoes. He flailed his arms wider to get their attention. 

“They saw me!” Izuku informed Mic-sensei triumphantly and ignored the hero’s continued snickers and the stares from strangers passing by. “Shinsou!”

Izuku smiled wider as a familiar purple head of hair finally whipped in his direction before making a bee-line towards him. Izuku trotted forward to meet him. “Shinsou! That was amazing! You were amazing! I’m so – !”

Shinsou collided with Izuku so forcefully, Izuku oofed in protest. Not to be distracted, Shinsou used his momentum to propel Izuku back toward Mic-sensei and away from the crowd. 

“Shhh!” Shinsou hissed, attempting to smother Izuku and his protests under his spare gym uniform jacket. “Shh! Shhut up! You’re so embarrassing, oh my god.”

“What?! How?!” Izuku’s indignant cry came from under Shinsou’s jacket. 

“What do you mean, how?! You’re covered in face paint!”

“Not true!”

“And you’re wearing that stupid shirt – where did you even get that picture?!”

“First of all, your dad made it –” 

“And who gave you permission to get on the intercom?!” Shinsou demanded. His jacket was on the floor at this point, lost in the scuffle as he attempted to trap Izuku in a headlock. “You can’t just cheer for someone from the stadium’s broadcasting system."

“I was encouraging you! That’s not illegal!”  

“Mic-sensei,” Shinsou’s dad greeted in the background. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. How did you enjoy the festival?”

“It definitely tops last year's festival!” Mic-sensei guffawed as he reached over and scruffed Izuku by his collar. Expertly, he yanked Izuku out of Shinsou’s hold and pulled him into his side with a wide grin. “I think this kid is trying to run me out of a job! What’d you all think of his debut?”

“A crowd pleaser, certainly,” Shinsou-san agreed with a smile as he mirrored Mic-sensei by trapping a huffing Shinsou against his side. “It makes me happy to know our son has such a supportive friend like Izuku-kun in his life.” 

“Not for long,” Shinsou glowered from beneath his dad’s arm, miming a threat to Izuku by dragging his thumb across his neck. 

Shinsou-san promptly covered his son’s mouth with his palm. “My wife and I were just saying that we should all go out to celebrate! We would love to have you join us for dinner, if you’re free?”

Izuku’s head whipped up to Mic-sensei with wide, hopeful eyes. “Can we, Mic-sensei? Please?”

“Sounds like fun!” The hero agreed easily, ruffling Izuku’s hair. “I’ll text Shouta to hurry up before all of the good restaurants get too crowded.”

“No need.” Izuku jumped as Aizawa-san seemed to materialize beside him. 

“Speak of the devil,” Mic-sensei said. “Shouta! We’re all getting dinner to celebrate - and no, you can’t get out of it. Let’s go, little listeners!”

As they began to make their way to dinner, Izuku fell into step beside Aizawa-san. Peeking up at Aizawa-san, there didn’t seem to be any difference from his guardian's usual grumpy expression. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. 

“What?” Aizawa-san startled Izuku out of his staring. 

“Oh, uh, nothing,” Izuku said. “Just, um, wondering how everything went…?” 

Aizawa-san gives him a side-long glance. “Nedzu is handling it.”

“Oh. That’s, um, good?” 

“It will be.” 

Izuku let out a gusty breath in relief, but felt a hopeful smile turn up his lips. Todoroki and his family needed the help and he was glad they were finally going to get it. 

“You should be more concerned for yourself.”

“Huh?”

“You’re grounded for the foreseeable future.” 

“What?!” 

“Don’t look at me like that. You know what you did.”

“So unfair!”

***

The squabbling at the end of the table was starting to give Aizawa a headache. 

“The Switch? That’s a retro console. Who even plays that anymore?”

“You take that back! The Switch was revolutionary.”

“Sure, like, a million years ago. Don’t be such an old man.” 

“I am one year older than you. Respect your elders!” 

While the family restaurant they had settled on was crowded and loud, typical of any restaurant the night of the UA Sports Festival, it was unfortunate that most of the noise seemed to be coming from their own table. 

Aizawa rolled his eyes as the argument was egged on by Mic and, disappointingly, Shinsou’s father, Satoru, who was all too eager to prolong the argument with useless facts. 

Aizawa spares a glance for the only other sane adult at this dinner. Shinsou Minori sipped at her drink and watched her son’s animated argument with an indulgent grin. When she caught him looking, that grin became conspiratorial. 

“He’s normally so laid back,” she offered, tilting her head towards her son. “It’s nice to see this side of him.” 

Aizawa wished this type of behavior was considered abnormal for his ward. Unfortunately, this level of nonsense seemed to have been standard in the century he came from.

“He’s really come out of his shell since starting at UA,” she said, carrying on the conversation despite his lack of input. “We owe a lot of that to Izuku-kun. Hitoshi has been going on non-stop about how Izuku-kun helped him to prepare for this festival, teaching him how to defend himself and really building up his self-esteem. He’s a good kid.” She gave him a sly wink. “Izuku-kun must get that from you.”

At the opposite end of the table, Midoriya flailed his arms passionately as the debate continued, inciting laughter and more arguments from the three other embarrassments that sat with him.

Aizawa scowled in affront. His problematic, illogical ward certainly did not take after him.

Minori muffled a laugh into her hand, then turned back to him. “So he’s a little enthusiastic. The world could use his kind of enthusiasm.” 

Enthusiasm. Nedzu’s AIs were working overtime scrubbing the internet of any videos, clips, and replays of Midoriya’s recent bout of enthusiasm as they spoke. 

He’s never liked small talk, but he offers a stunted compliment for her son in return. “Shinsou tempers him. That level-headedness will only serve him in his career as a hero.”  

“Thank you,” she said, before the shadow of concern covered her features. “He’s been trying so hard to make it into the heroics track. This festival was a major milestone for him, but if he transfers, he’ll be starting behind the rest of his peers. He’s struggled for so long, I’m just worried that the transfer will just be another struggle for him while he tries to play catch up…” She trailed off at this, attention now turned back to the boys at the end of the table. 

Aizawa watches them, too. Shinsou’s lips turn up in a wry smile as something smart falls out of his mouth. Whatever is said, it has Mic laughing and Shinsou’s father reaching across to cuff his shoulder gently, though he smiles all the same. 

It also has his ward lighting up with a bright smile pulling wide across his face. His freckles become so scrunched beneath his eyes from the force of his smile they can barely be seen. 

This image of his ward becomes superimposed with the scared kid he met that first night. The tears and distrust from that night have been replaced with laughter, and Aizawa is well aware that the credit for the improvement to his ward’s life is owed to the current people surrounding Midoriya at this moment. 

He’s sure he’ll come to regret the paperwork for his decision later, but not tonight.  

“Shinsou’s placement in the festival was reflective of the amount of training and preparation he put into it,” Aizawa starts as he warms to his decision. “That he can now be considered for a transfer to the hero course was due to his performance alone.”

Minori turns to him then. Having already been held captive to his ward's rambling, Aizawa is well aware that Shinsou Minori’s quirk, Silver Tongue, is a mediocre suggestion quirk. The quirk’s effectiveness is dependent on both the target’s own obstinacy and their awareness of the quirk. An emitter quirk that, much like Mic’s, was concentrated in the vocal cords.

Without his prior knowledge of her quirk’s functions, Aizawa would have assumed it was concentrated in her sharp, violet eyes based on the weight of her gaze alone. 

“With the conclusion of the Sports Festival, hero students will have the opportunity to participate in a week-long internship with a heroics agency. These internships are meant to give them an insight into the everyday functions of an established agency and a small glimpse into what their careers as heroes can entail. Participation in these internships is a privilege, and students are responsible for ensuring they complete their school work on time in exchange for the opportunity. While it is a rare occurrence for these agencies to accept prospective hero students, or any students outside of the established heroics course, it is not unheard of.” 

As Midoriya’s laughter drifts down to their end of the table, Aizawa stands. “I have to make a call.”

***

“AAAND another devastating blow from Shiozaki! Talk about a lean green fighting machine! This rose has got thorns, ya dig?! Shinsou had better come up with something quick, or could this be the end of the line for the Dark Horse of Gen Ed?! YEEEEAAA-huh?!”

The sharp screech of feedback cuts through the audio. 

“Let’s-go, Shin-sou! Fight-fight, Shin-sou!”

“WHAT’S THIS?! MUTINY IN MY BOOTH?!”

“Let’s-go - hrkle-!”

“NOT ON THIS HERO’S WATCH, AMATEUR! Many have tried and FAILED to upstage Present Mic, I’ll have you know! It’s that Plus Ultra spirit - WHOA! Blink and you miss it folks, WHAT just happened?! Get that playback up on the screen!”

Pause. 

Rewind. 

Play.

“ - or could this be the end of the line for the Dark Horse of Gen Ed?! YEEEEAAA-huh?!”

“Let’s-go, Shin-sou! Fight-fight, Shin-sou!”

“WHAT’S THIS?! MUTINY IN MY BOOTH?!”

“Let’s-go - hrkle-!”

Pause.

Enhance.

Enhance.

"Ah. There you are." 

***

It’s the first day back at school since the Sports Festival and the school is still buzzing with excitement. Izuku and Shinsou find themselves having lunch in their usual spot hidden away in their classroom to avoid the overexuberance of the rest of the student body. 

Though they did have their own share of excitement to contend with. Izuku grinned around a mouthful of his lunch as Shinsou nearly vibrated as he delivered his own update after a meeting he’d had before school. 

“I thought the meeting with Aizawa this morning was just going to be about my transfer - he’s the only teacher here who managed to transfer from Gen Ed himself and the open spot is in his classroom, so it makes sense the meeting would be with him, right?”

“Right,” Izuku agreed unnecessarily, but happy to indulge in his friend’s enthusiasm. 

Shinsou pointed his chopsticks at him. “That’s what I thought! But then he brings up internships and some spiel about how they’re a privilege to join and blah blah whatever. That’s not the important part. The important part is that exceptions can be made for students like me and that my performance at the Sports Festival earned me an internship spot with a hero agency! An internship! Can you believe it?!”

“So cool!” Izuku crowed. “Do you know who your internship is with? Is it with a hero you know?”

“That’s the best part. I thought for sure it was going to be with some no-name agency, because who else would take on a Gen Ed nobody?”

“Hey, you’re a Gen Ed nobody who beat up a stadium full of hero students. Show some respect.”

“You’re interrupting me. Anyway, you’ll never guess which agency -” 

“Shinsou-kun!” Both Izuku and Shinsou jump at the sudden shout from the door of the classroom. Iida wasted no time marching over to their corner of the class where they'd huddled up for lunch. “I’m glad to have finally found you! I assumed you would be having lunch in the cafeteria with the rest of your class, but I see I was mistaken!”

“Hey, Iida,” Izuku greeted on their behalf since Shinsou still seemed to be recovering from Iida’s loud arrival. “What’s up?” 

“Hello, Midoriya-kun! I’ve come on official business on behalf of the Iidaten Agency!” Iida presented a thick manila envelope to Shinsou, barely managing to avoid poking their purple friend in the eye with it as he did. “Shinsou-kun, let me be the first to welcome you as an intern to the Iidaten Agency! I am looking forward to interning with you next week!” 

Shinsou paled. “What?” 

“I’ve already informed my brother - ahem, I mean, Ingenium, that we are close friends and training partners at UA! As such, he has asked me to deliver your internship paperwork! Please review the documents with your parents and have them signed as quickly as possible! I will collect them and deliver them to the agency on your behalf this week, so that we can begin our internship without allocating additional time for paperwork! 

“Ah, Ingenium also suggested that we bunk together as interns to promote further bonding in addition to the time that we spend together in the field. I thought it was a brilliant suggestion and accepted on our behalf!” 

Shinsou paled even further. “You did?” 

“We should also coordinate transportation to the agency! We can discuss this during our training session later!” Chop, chop. “I look forward to working with you, Shinsou-kun! Enjoy the rest of your lunch!”

And with a final chop, he was gone. 

Shell-shocked, Shinsou turned wide, unblinking eyes to stare at the thick envelope of internship paperwork he now held. 

Izuku grinned happily. “I didn’t know you were interning with Iida!”

Shinsou groaned. “Neither did I.”

“And, hey,” Izuku continued, unbothered by his friend's response, “since you guys are going to be interning together, you guys can start your bonding by pairing up in our training after school this week, too!” 

Shinsou groaned louder, banging his head against his desk in defeat.

***

The problem child was up to something.

Aizawa had been sitting on his couch with his laptop for the past few hours messaging back and forth with Nedzu over the Todoroki family situation. During that time, Aizawa could only imagine that his ward had been destroying his room from the amount of clamoring that he could hear coming from behind the closed bedroom door. 

To prove his point, a crash and startled yelp from the room are followed up with a rushed, “I’m okay!”

Aizawa rolled his eyes. He would give his ward until he was done speaking with Nedzu before he intervened.  

As his back and forth with the rat comes to an end, his ward decides to make his appearance. Midoriya stands off to the side, lurking and fidgeting as if deciding when to make his presence known. 

Resigned, Aizawa closed his computer and sighed. “Yes, Midoriya? Can I help you?”

“Oh,” Midoriya perked up and made his way over to stand in front of Aizawa. “Were you done, then? Cause I can wait if you still have something to do. No rush!” 

“Problem child. What do you want?”

“Right! Well, I was thinking -” Aizawa hated it when he did that “-and you know how Shinsou and the hero students are going to be gone next week for their internships? Well, Todoroki is taking his internship with Mic-sensei, which you probably knew already, but because he’s staying with Mic-sensei he’s going to be staying local instead of traveling like the rest of the students - which you also probably knew already. 

“Anyway! I was thinking it would be a good idea to invite them over for dinner one night, since Mic-sensei usually comes for dinner a couple nights a week anyway. And if we ask him, I bet Mic-sensei would let Todoroki spend the night, too! I’ve already cleared a space in my room for the spare futon - sorry about the noise, by the way. I, um, fell - and I can totally cook dinner and I promise we won’t stay up late and -!”

Aizawa raised one hand to stop his ward’s rambling and used the other to press against the headache building behind his eyes. 

“Internships are not meant for fun.”

“Right! You’re totally right! I’m just saying, since Todoroki will be staying with Mic-sensei for the week and since Mic-sensei usually comes here during the week, I just thought it would make sense for them to stay here for a night. If you think about it, it’s a pretty logical conclusion.”

Aizawa was beginning to hate how often that word was being used against him. “You’ve cleaned your room?” he verified.

“Yes!”

“You’ll air out the futon?”

“Yes!” 

“You’ll have your homework done before Todoroki arrives?”

 “Yes! I promise!” 

Aizawa leaned back into the couch with a sigh. “I’ll discuss it with Mic.”

He definitely does not smile as his ward cheers in triumph.

Chapter Text

Day 1

Aizawa could already hear his ward’s excited chattering coming from inside the teacher’s lounge as he and Mic approached from the hallway. 

“This is the first one Shinsou sent from this morning. It’s a picture of him and Iida in front of the agency, and the one after that has all three of them in their costumes! Er, you can ignore those messages, that’s just Shinsou being dramatic. Oh, this one! This one’s of Shinsou in his hero costume! Well, sort of. They made him a temporary one to use while he was at his internship so it’s pretty much a track suit with some armor in it, but they did make it black and purple for him!” 

“Impressive.” That oaf, Yagi, responded. “I see he’s been very thorough about documenting his experience.” 

Mic jumped in front of him to block the door and pointed a warning finger in his face. “Be nice , Shouta.”

“It’s not in my contract to be nice.” 

He shoved the blond hero aside and threw open the door. Midoriya and Yagi both startled at the sudden entrance. His ward recovered quickly, perking up as he recognized the heroes at the entrance. “Aizawa-san! Mic-sensei! What are you doing here?”

“We work here,” Aizawa drawled, taking in Izuku and Yagi gathered together at the hero’s desk. “And your excuse?”

Midoriya made a face. “I wasn’t talking to you . I was talking to Mic-sensei. When did you get here? I thought we had a sub all week because Todoroki’s internship started this morning? How come he’s not with you?”

“What’s with the third-degree?” Mic teased, walking over to ruffle Izuku’s hair in his customary greeting. “I’ll have you know I haven’t lost an intern yet!”

“You’re avoiding the question,” his ward groused, attempting to fix his hair. 

“Am not,” Mic grinned, reaching back out to re-ruffle the kid’s hair. “Todoroki’s got a meeting with Principal Nedzu, so while he’s busy with that, I’ll be busy getting ahead on some grading! And what about you, little listener? What brought you here?”

“Shinsou sent pictures.”

Mic is quick to steal his ward - and his ward’s phone - and drag them over to his desk, where he makes a show of reacting to every photo Midoriya has been sent. 

“Aizawa,” Yagi greeted stiffly.

“Yagi.” Aizawa approached the man’s desk slowly. “What business did you have with my ward?”

“As I’m sure you heard,” Yagi started, leaning back in his seat to meet Aizawa’s annoyed glare, “Young Midoriya was very excited to discuss his friend’s internship with me. We were merely going through the pictures Young Shinsou sent to him. I’m sure you’ll find that our conversation was agreeable to your standards.” 

 “I’ll remind you,” Aizawa loomed over the emaciated hero, “Midoriya is my responsibility.”

“And I have respected that, have I not? Would you have preferred that I had turned him away instead?” 

“Don’t be smart. It doesn’t suit you.” 

“And hovering suits you? I’ve never known you to be so overbearing, Aizawa,” the older hero tsked. “Interrogate Young Midoriya if you can’t take my word for it. I’m sure you’ll find our stories match.” 

Their conversation was interrupted by the stress ball that smacked Aizawa’s shoulder. “Hey, Eraserdud,” Mic called, smiling though his tone was warning him to cool it . “Get over here and take a look at these photos! Shinsou took a selfie in every room at Iidaten! It’s hilarious!”

Midoriya, who seemed to be coming to the realization that there might be some tension between the two men across the room, immediately flushed at Mic’s words and jumped to his friend’s defense. “It is not every room! He’s just excited!”

Aizawa watched through narrowed eyes as the flint melted from Yagi’s gaze as he smiled indulgently at Midoriya. “Yes, first internships are always exciting.” 

His ward tilted his head in curiosity at Yagi’s knowing tone. “Did you ever have a heroics internship, Yagi-san?”  

“Ah, well.” Yagi cleared his throat and cut a glance at Aizawa. “I had something similar to it, back in the day. Though it wasn’t nearly as enjoyable as Young Shinsou’s seems to be. I had a, ah, rather strict instructor.” 

“You didn’t like it?”

“Well, my educational career was a little unconventional. I had a mentor, you see, an amazing woman. And her approach was far more gentle than that of any instructor after her.” 

His overprotective ward frowned in suspicion at the wording. “Were they mean to you?”

“Ah, no, no.” Yagi waved away Midoriya’s concerns. “I was simply used to a softer touch. But I learned so much during those years of training, and I wouldn’t be where I am today without their instruction.” 

“A hero?” Midoriya perked back up. “What’s your hero name? I’ll look you up!”

Yagi hacked uncontrollably into his fist, turning away in his attempt to reach for the tissues on his desk with his other hand. 

“Yagi-san!” Midoriya yelped. “Should I get Recovery Girl?”

“No!” 

Aizawa rolled his eyes. “He’s fine. Midoriya, there’s a small refrigerator behind you. Get him some water.” 

“On it!”  

“I’m fine,” Yagi wheezed as Midoriya came around with the water. “Happens from time to time. Don’t mind it.”

“If you say so,” Midoriya said, unconvinced. “Is this because I asked about your hero name? Do you not want to talk about it?”

When the idiot chokes again, his ward nods in understanding. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me about it if it’s a secret. I live with Aizawa-san, remember? Between him and Shinsou, I know a lot about underground heroics, so I get it. No hard feelings!” 

“That’s - that’s very understanding of you, Young Midoriya. Thank you.”

“No problem!”  

“Midoriya.” Aizawa effectively distracted his ward from Yagi’s attempts to collect himself by moving them back to Mic’s desk. “Meet me after your last class. Barring any assistance the second or third year hero classes may need, we can leave after your final classes this week.”

“You’ll be off early?” Midoriya asked excitedly. “Does this mean we can train together this week after class?”

“Looks like you’ll have your own shadow this week, Eraser,” Mic-sensei teased, giving his brow a wiggle. 

“He’s my ward. He goes where I go.” 

“The only places you go are work and home. Take him somewhere fun this week, ya dig?”

“I’m not a babysitter.”

“ Shouta ! Teenagers need to go out! He needs fresh air! Even I’ll be taking Todoroki by the radio station this week to let him stretch his wings.” 

“Todoroki is going to be on the radio with you?” Midoriya grinned. “No way!” 

Mic guffawed at the suggestion. “If he can hold a successful conversation by the end of the week, sure! Nothing worse for radio than dead air, ya feel me? We’ll work our way up to it if he wants to make his debut.” 

“You have to let me know when he’ll be on so I can hear it live!” 

“Mic’s live show doesn’t air until after your curfew,” Aizawa cut in pointedly. He regretted the reminder immediately when the teacher’s lounge was overtaken with outraged whining, the loudest coming from Mic.   

Day 2

“Shouta! To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

“Hizashi.”

“You sound pissed. You haven’t seen me all day, you can’t be mad at me!” 

“Mineta has been dismissed from his internship for harassing the female employees.”

“Yikes.”

“I’ll need to get him and escort him back to UA. We’re meeting with Nedzu tonight to discuss his probationary terms for remaining in the hero course. I won’t be back until late. I need you to pick up Midoriya from school and stay with him tonight.”

“Speeds up our sleepover schedule a little bit, but the little listeners will be excited! Yo, Todoroki, remember what I taught you about sleepovers?”

“...only Aizawa-sensei’s clothes go in the freezer.”

“That was a joke! A joke, Shouta, I swear-!”

“I’ll deal with Mineta. Then I’ll deal with you.”

“Shouta, no!” 

*** 

They scattered their takeout containers all over Aizawa-san’s coffee table. Behind them, Mic-sensei was sprawled out on the couch while Izuku fiddled with the laptop he had rigged up to the TV.

When Aizawa-san had pulled him out of class to explain that Mic-sensei and Todoroki would be taking him home tonight, Izuku had spent the time after school while he was waiting to get picked up scouring the internet and downloading every season of Avatar The Last Airbender.

“Pay close attention to Prince Zuko,” Izuku instructed once everything was in place and he had pressed play for the first episode. 

“Because of his fire quirk?” Todoroki questioned, still focused on finishing his dinner. “Or is it because of our matching scars?”

“Because he’s an asshole that goes through a serious redemption arc. I’m going to need you to take notes.” 

Mic-sensei guffaws loudly from behind them, though Todoroki stares blankly at Izuku’s impish grin. “What is a redemption arc?” 

“Don’t worry about it. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll go from being Season One Zuko into Season Three Zuko.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“You will.”  

***

When Aizawa returns in the early hours of the morning, he is not expecting his living room to be in chaos. 

Silently, he makes his way from the door to stand behind the couch, where he finds Mic knocked out and snoring. His ward hasn’t fared much better, sprawled out on the floor with half of his body under the coffee table, which is still littered with takeout food, plates and utensils from their dinner earlier that evening. 

Todoroki is the only one awake, huddled under a blanket on the floor with his back leaned up against the couch. His eyes don’t stray from the scene playing out on the television - some pre-quirk era cartoon his ward had been excited about. A large flying animal and a bunch of kids appear to be out-maneuvering warships. 

Aizawa rolls his eyes. He can see now why his ward found this show so appealing. 

He picks up a cushion from the coach and smacks Mic with it, then lobs it at his sleeping ward. 

Ignoring their spluttering, sleep garbled protests, he states, “Mic, clean up this mess. Midoriya, take Todoroki to your room and go to bed. If you need anything before I am absolutely required to wake up for work, bother Mic.” 

Mic and Izuku are already in motion, however sluggishly. Todoroki, however, hasn’t taken his eyes off of the screen and Aizawa is not confident that his student is aware of anything around him aside from the show. 

Aizawa frowned at the thought. “Midoriya, limit Todoroki’s screen exposure from now on. You’re overstimulating him.” 

“It’s training,” comes his ward’s sleepy protest, though he reaches down to hoist Todoroki to his feet. Mic has turned off the show and powered down the computer. 

“C’mon, Todoroki,” Midoriya mumbles, plodding towards his room and dragging his friend behind him. 

When the bedroom door closes behind them, Aizawa chucks a second cushion at Mic as punishment for letting his students stay awake past curfew. 

Day 3

Racing through streets of fire in the arms of Ingenium like some damsel in distress was not the turn Hitoshi imagined his internship would be taking.

“The armor’s not meant for piggy back rides,” Ingenium had stated - a little too happily for Hitoshi’s liking, given the circumstances - before knocking Hitoshi’s knees out from under him and instructing Baby Ingenium to keep up.

It was just his luck that the city was blown to shit the day that Ingenium took them out to patrol for the first time. Now they were racing back so that Ingenium could dump them at the agency and free himself up to go and save the town. 

And Hitoshi might have been able to stomach that - might have been able to reasonably accept that this siege of monsters was beyond him and his experience. Shit, he knew the only experience he really had to speak about was the past two and a half days he’d spent on this internship. He wanted to prove himself - prove to everyone that he could be the hero that no one believed that he could be, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think that he could be out there right now standing on the same lines with the heroes of Hosu with his current abilities. 

So if he was being reasonable - and responsible, and mature about it like a fucking adult - then he should have just accepted Ingenium’s help to get him back to safety as quickly as the hero was physically capable. 

Except they weren’t going straight back to the agency. They were stopping every few minutes to help civilians to safety or to push them out of the way of flaming debris.

And every single time they stopped, Ingenium would stash Hitoshi out of the way with strict instructions to do nothing. Don’t move, don’t help, don’t even think about it. 

Hitoshi wouldn’t have felt so fucking useless if Iida had also been given the same instructions. And if Hitoshi was a good person, he wouldn’t be getting so mad at Iida about it. Iida was a hero student. Iida had a semester's worth of training that Hitoshi didn’t have - probably more, considering his family. So if Ingenium was going to ask for help escorting civilians or reporting their status and location back to the agency, of course it made sense to ask Iida and not him.

He felt fucking useless, but it made sense. 

In another dizzying move that left him trying to blink the world back into focus, Ingenium stopped abruptly and stood him back upright. The hero’s hand was brought up to his ear, probably listening to a dispatcher from the agency, as he scanned the empty street he had brought them to a stop on. 

“Copy that.” Ingenium turned his attention to them and Hitoshi straightened up under the weight of that helmeted gaze landing on him. “We’ve got a downed sidekick calling for backup and I’m the closest responding hero. I need you boys to listen to me very carefully - and I mean very carefully. You go straight back to the agency. You don’t stop for anything . Tenya, you remember my patrol route from here?”

“Yes, Nii-san!”

“Follow it back to the agency. It’ll take you around the long way, but that area should be clear of any activity. With your quirk, it shouldn’t take you more than ten minutes. If you run into any trouble, contact the agency immediately but you do not engage, am I understood?”

“Understood!”

“Have the agency notify me the second you guys make it back.” Ingenium reaches out to both of them to place a heavy hand on their shoulders. “I’m sorry I can’t see you boys back myself. Stay together. Stay safe. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” 

Between one blink and the next, Ingenium was gone. 

“Shinsou-kun!” Hitoshi turned and watched as Iida held out his arms. “Place your arms around my neck! I will take us the rest of the way to the agency!”

Yeah, fuck that. 

“Yeah, fuck that.” 

Iida spluttered behind him while Hitoshi took off at a jog down the street, heading in the general direction of the agency. 

“Shinsou-kun, I must insist!” Iida kept pace with him easily, to Hitoshi’s annoyance. “Nii-san - ahem, Ingenium instructed me to take you back to the agency!”

“Did he? I don’t remember that.” 

“Shinsou-kun!”

“Did he explicitly say that you needed to carry me back to the agency? Cause I don’t recall that part.” 

“You are being deliberately obtuse! Ingenium instructed me to take you back with my quirk so that we could return in the shortest amount of time possible!”

“I’m pretty sure he told us to get back as safely as we could, not as quickly as we could. And running around all this debris with someone in your arms sounds like pretty risky business to me. What if you tripped and dropped me? Scratched up my pretty face? How would you take responsibility?” 

They made it over two more streets, Iida still trying to convince Hitoshi to jump into his arms and begrudgingly pointing out directions when Hitoshi ignored him. 

Ingenium had been right about this area being clear of activity. They hadn’t run into a single person, civilian or otherwise, as they made their way through the streets. Some buildings they passed had windows that had been blown out and storefronts had their metal security gates in place over the entrances, but the only idiots brave enough to be out on the streets right now seemed to be them. 

“Shinsou-kun, I really must insist you allow me to carry you back to the agency! They are expecting us back in a certain amount of time and we are going to be late -”

“Feel free to run ahead and let them know I’m coming.” 

“We’re supposed to stay together, Shinsou-kun! This is not the time for us to be separated!” 

Hitoshi had slowed to a walk to take a peek down the next street. When he saw that it was clear, he continued on at a quick walk, hoping to catch his breath before Ingenium Jr. noticed his wheezing. The last thing he needed was for Iida to point out that he was physically unfit as another excuse to carry him back. 

He was turned away from Iida, who was still trying to argue with him, when they passed by the alley. It wouldn’t have stood out to Hitoshi - it was one alley out of a dozen that they had passed at this point - except for the fluttering of movement that caught his attention. 

Which also wouldn’t have stood out on its own on any other day, except for that they should have been the only ones out on the street right now. 

It could be a civilian. Hurt, probably scared. Probably in need of a hero. 

It could also be a batshit crazy monster, but the chances were probably sixty-forty in favor of a civilian at this point. 

“Where are you going?!”

“Shut up, Iida. Follow me.”

Hitoshi crouched low and motioned for Iida to do the same as he entered the alley. He came up behind a dumpster with a pile of garbage stacked next to it and pressed up against the metal. He pressed his finger to his lips when Iida joined him, still looking like he wanted to argue. 

“I thought I saw something,” Hitoshi whispered, turning to peek his way around the dumpster. “I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t someone who needed help.”

“Ingenium gave us strict instructions not to engage,” Iida hissed back at him. “We’re not to stop for anything!”

“Oh relax, will ya? This will only take a sec - oh shit.” 

“Shinsou-kun? What is it?” Iida leaned over him, peeking out above Hitoshi to look down the alley himself.

“...there’s too many of them… Counterfeit ‘heroes’ who worship the almighty dollar.”

“You…bastard!” 

Oh shit. Oh fuck! Hitoshi fumbled with his earpiece, pressing the volume buttons in his panic before managing to press the transmitter. “Sh-shinsou for Iidaten. Come in Iidaten.” 

“ Go for Shinsou. ”

“I’m gonna do the things I gotta do, all for the sake of a just world.” 

“My body…it won’t move! Damn you, Stain! Die!” 

“ Shinsou, come in. ”

“If you’re going to use the name ‘hero,’ you should do better when choosing your dying lines.” 

Witnessing a murder was officially the worst turn this internship could have taken. “The Hero Killer is here,” he hissed into the mic, immobilized at the scene in front of him. “He’s going to kill somebody!” 

“ Shinsou, do not engage . I’m sending units enroute to your location. Are you safe to get away? ” 

“He’s really going to kill him,” Iida echoed, horror struck from above him. 

“Iida,” Hitoshi whispers, then tapers off. What were they supposed to do ?!

“Your sacrifice won’t be in vain.” Stain, the Hero Killer, had the other man by the throat, easily holding him up against the alley wall. With his other hand, he raised a wicked looking katana. 

“ Come in, Shinsou. Are you safe to retreat? ”

His response was cut off by the revving of Iida’s quirk. Hitoshi found himself knocked onto his stomach and apparently into an entirely new dimension because there was no way straight laced, class president of 1-A Iida Tenya just tried to attack one of the most wanted criminals in all of Japan. 

‘Tried’ being the operative word here. In the time it took for Hitoshi to raise his head to stare after Iida in disbelief, Stain had flicked his wrist and knocked Iida’s helmet clear off his head. Taken off guard, Iida now found himself on his back at the feet of the Hero Killer. 

“A child wearing a suit?” Stain peered down at a prone Iida curiously. “Go away. This isn’t any place for children.” 

Iida swallowed loudly but managed to pluck up the courage to speak. “As a future hero, I cannot allow-”

Stain’s laugh was deep and dry, and it ricocheted mockingly around them in the quiet of the alley. His head tilted towards Iida, and his smile stretched slowly across his face. “I don’t see any heroes here.” 

Stain dropped the man he held and turned to face them. Iida scrambled to his feet and Hitoshi scrambled back to peer out from his hiding place behind the dumpster. The pounding of his heart drowned out the continued attempts of the dispatcher to get a response from him. 

This guy was just as fast as Iida . Holy shit. 

“If the situation so demands, even children are fair targets.” Hitoshi froze as Stain caught his gaze, warning him without a word that he was aware of his presence. “I have a duty to kill this man, and if you butt in, then of course it is the weak that shall be culled. Now then, what will you do?”

“As a future hero, and as an intern of the Iidaten agency, I cannot stand by while you harm this man!” 

“That so?” The smile slipped from Stain’s face. “Then die.”  

“No!” The downed hero cried. “Get out of here! Run!” 

“Don’t worry,” Iida tried to sound reassuring. “My brother will have already been notified of where we are. He’ll be here soon!” 

“Brother?” Stain hummed in question. “Ah, how could I not have seen it? The resemblance is disgusting. Your brother is Ingenium.” 

Iida stiffened at the mention of his brother’s hero name. “Yes, my brother is the Turbo Hero, Ingenium! He’s -”

“Another fake,” Stain spat. “You’re his intern, you said? The blatant nepotism in his agency is sickening. You called him a hero? Ha! The title ‘hero’ should only be permitted to those who have achieved great undertakings!”

“My brother is a splendid hero!” 

“Until society realizes this mistake on its own,” another knife appeared in Stain’s empty hand, “I shall continue my purge.” 

“Wait!” Oh god , Hitoshi gulped, sending out a fervent apology to his parents as he stepped out from behind his hiding spot. With his hands raised in a placating gesture in front of him, Hitoshi took a step closer to the Hero Killer. “What you said, about fake heroes, I think I get what you’re talking about. Especially what you said about Ingenium.”

“Shinsou-kun!” Iida’s scandalized gasp had Hitoshi praying his plan wasn’t about to be ruined because he was stuck with the biggest bro-con in UA. 

“What you said, about the nepotism in his agency, it’s true. Iida always knew he was going to intern with his brother’s agency, but I had to beg for this internship, you know?” 

He had Stain’s full attention now. At the lack of response, Hitoshi nervously licked his lips and tried again. “Is that what you meant about society’s biggest mistake? Because heroes like Ingenium are in charge?”

Stain took a horrifying step closer to them. "This society is overgrown with fake heroes, where the word itself has lost its true meaning-!” 

And then the Hero Killer, Stain, wasn’t moving at all. 

Neither was the downed hero or Iida for that matter. Only Hitoshi trembled with anxiety from having successfully used his quirk on a villain for the first time in his life . 

“Shinsou-kun,” Iida murmured, unsure if he could safely take his eyes off of the villain, “is this your doing?”

“Iida,” Hitoshi managed to squeak out, “I have the Hero Killer trapped in my quirk and I am freaking the fuck out. It would be really helpful if you could get an ETA on our back up right now.” 

“Right! Don’t worry Shinsou-kun, I’m on it!” 

It was only a matter of minutes before they were swarmed by every available sidekick and hero the city could spare. After a rapid explanation from Iida, they marveled at Hitoshi’s quirk and the frozen Hero Killer as they relieved him of his many, many knives. 

They had just managed to heft Stain’s original victim onto the back of one the sidekicks when Ingenium finally appeared. 

“Tenya! Shinsou!” 

Hitoshi’s trembling had only worsened as he continued to hold the Hero Killer under his quirk while he waited on the heroes to finish putting him in cuffs. His trembling was made even more apparent to him when the firm and steady grip of Ingenium fell onto his shoulder. 

“Nii-san, this was my fault,” Iida immediately started. “I take full responsibility-”

“Let’s not worry about that right now,” Ingenium interrupted him, not unkindly. “We can talk about what happened back at the agency. For now, I’m just glad you boys are ok.”

Ingenium quieted down to observe as Hitoshi led Stain through a series of instructions that got him led over and then loaded into a containment vehicle. When the doors closed on the villain, Hitoshi finally released him from his quirk. 

Ingenium gave a low whistle. “Shinsou, have I told you lately how cool your quirk is?”

“I’m going to vomit.”  

***

“Shouta!”

“Tensei, this had better be a call to tell me that my students - students, on internship, that are not legally allowed to engage in combat and who should be protected within the walls of the hero agency they are interning at in the event of an emergency - this call had better be to tell me that those very students are unharmed and were uninvolved with the attack on Hosu.”

“Eheheh. Funny you should bring that up-”

“Tensei.” 

“They’re safe! Perfectly fine and completely unharmed! And you’ll be proud to hear that they aided with the take down of a major, outstanding villain!”

“What.”

“In fact, you’d be most proud of Shinsou! It’s thanks to him that everyone was able to get out of that situation safely and relatively unharmed.”

“Tensei. Where are my students?”

“Don’t worry too much, Eraser. They’ve already been cleared by medical with a clean bill of health and they’re currently resting at the agency-”  

“I’m on my way. My students do not leave that agency until I get there. And Tensei? I’m calling your mother.”

“Don’t do that!”

Day 4

“I am not in the mood, Yagi-”

“Aizawa, it’s about Young Midoriya. He’s been hurt.”  

“Impossible. He’s on UA’s campus and in the middle of classes. If he has been hurt, I should be getting a call from Recovery Girl, not you.”  

“I imagine she hasn’t had the chance yet. I’m on my way to her office as we speak. I’ve just finished speaking with the third years that came into the staff room to report the incident.”   

Muffled cursing can be heard through the speaker. “Yagi. Get to the point. What happened to my ward?”   

“From what I gathered, Young Izuku had an altercation with one of your students, Mineta Minoru?”   

“Yagi. What. Happened.”   

“From what Young Amajiki and Young Togata shared with me, Midoriya and Mineta had a disagreement in the stairwell. They didn’t witness the inciting incident, but whether he was pushed or tripped on his own, the result was that Midoriya took a tumble down the stairs. Young Amajiki was able to catch him before he could reach the bottom of the landing, thank God, but they suspect he may have badly injured his arm.” 

“Nedzu?”  

“Already pulling the security footage, I imagine.”  

“Have him send it to me. Midoriya calls me the second he is able to.”   

“Of course. I’m in front of Recovery Girl’s office now. I’ll have her update you as soon as possible.”   

“I hate to ask you this Yagi - and I do mean hate it - but Midoriya needs an escort at all times when not on campus. I had made arrangements to have Nedzu stay with Midoriya tonight while I’m in Hosu. I would rather he be somewhere comfortable while he recovers instead of in the infirmary waiting for Nedzu to take him home.”  

“Say no more, Aizawa. I’ll take Young Midoriya home and stay with him until you return. He will be safe with me.”  

“He’d better be.” 

Day 5

“Aizawa-san!” 

Aizawa braced himself as his ward barreled into him in greeting. The sun had already begun to set by the time Aizawa had seen the rest of his students were delivered safely into the custody of their parents upon their return from their internships. It was well into the evening by the time he managed to return home.  

“Aizawa-san! Shinsou called and told me everything! He said they were fine, but did they look fine to you? I watched all of the news segments about it - I thought those things weren’t normal? Why are there so many? How-?” 

Aizawa scruffed the back of his wards collar and held him out at arms length. Ignoring the kid’s blatant attempt at distracting him, Aizawa held him still while he scanned for injuries. He zeroed in on the kid’s wrist and glared.

“You, uh, heard about this, huh?” His ward tittered, making an attempt to hide his hand behind him before immediately aborting the motion at Aizawa’s warning grumble. “I’m totally fine! Barely a sprain! And Recovery Girl fixed me right up, you can ask her!” 

“I did. And now I’m asking you. What happened?”

“It was an accident!”  

Aizawa scoffed but released him, allowing him to scamper back to the living room for a temporary escape.  

He was a patient man. He would get his answers eventually.  

“Check it out! Yagi-san treated us to sushi for dinner tonight!” 

He could see that his coffee table was once again covered with various takeout boxes. Begrudgingly, he gave a firm nod to the older hero now rising from his seat.  

“Yagi,” he acknowledged.  

“Aizawa. I’m glad to see that you returned unharmed.”  

Aizawa ignored the sentiment as the hero began to gather up his belongings and give his overly affectionate ward a hug goodbye.  

While Aizawa still detested the man, he could admit that it had been convenient to have the number one hero watch over his vulnerable ward while the majority of local hero and police agencies had been dispatched to Hosu for recovery efforts. 

Still, he refrained from asking Yagi to stay for dinner and was quick to lock the door behind him on his way out.  

He allowed Midoriya to pull him down to the couch and fill his plate with food. Aizawa settled more comfortably into his seat as the rest of his evening was filled with one-sided chatter from his ward about his friends and their internships.  

Midoriya managed to exhaust himself in the late hours of the night, passing out against Aizawa’s shoulder. Seeing that his ward had the right idea, Aizawa kicked his legs up on the table and sank further into the couch cushions with a groan.  

And with this week from hell finally done with, Aizawa fell into a restful sleep.