Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It all started with a meeting.

“You have all been gathered here due to some… recent changes that were announced by the HPSC regarding our hero course going forward.” It was a regular morning on a Monday, or, it was supposed to be, until Nedzu had emailed all the staff last night that they had a meeting scheduled early in the morning before classes commenced.

The fact that Aizawa hadn’t even have the time to nurse his morning coffee yet should already be a sign of ill omen to come that whatever this meeting is about, he could already tell it was going to be another source of headache for him.

Just because he had expelled his entire homeroom this year doesn’t mean he stopped working. He still had his other classes to teach and any additional duties Nedzu seemed fit to hoist on him. As if the rat will let him off that easy. Ha.

His patrol had run late last night, therefore resulting in him crashing straight into his husband’s arms for his much-needed sleep when he stumbled back home. Both of them had ended up running a bit behind schedule in the morning. (Damnit Zashi! You should have wake me -But Sho! You looked so tired I figured I’ll let you sleep just a few more minutes -The few minutes that have cost me my coffee Zashi-) The impromptu scheduled meeting hadn’t help matters at all.

Aizawa zoned back to the present. They were all gathered in one of UA’s many conferences room. Nedzu is sitting at the head, of course. A stack of papers placed in front of him and some held in his paws. Hizashi sat at his usual place on his right. Around him, Nemuri, Vlad King, Cementoss, Ectoplasm, Snipe, Thirteen, and Powerloader regarded Nedzu with varied amount of curiosity.

Aizawa took note that Chiyo -Recovery Girl- and Inui -Hound Dog- were both here as well. While their presence is certainly welcomed, it was unusual in the sense that they are not directly involved in the academic parts of the hero course itself. Therefore, if there are any changes to be made in their lesson plans, which is the typical case as far as these meetings go, their attendance was usually not required.

Whatever this is, this is big.

“Changes?” Aizawa prompted, a sense of apprehensiveness started curling in his gut, which is expected by now whenever the HPSC is involved. Aizawa thought his wariness was very much warranted. Being an underground hero with years under his belt, those who know him knew that there was no love lost between the two.

In Aizawa’s viewpoint, the way the HPSC operates is illogical. Their blatant favoritism for flashy quirks only flaming the distorted notion in today’s society that flamboyant quirks are everything. Many heroes now paraded around more as celebrities for the fame and money, where the essence of being a hero should have just been a simple desire to help people. A concept so simple yet failed to grasp by so many.

If Aizawa had his way, he would have like to throw half of the limelight heroes he watched on HeroNews back to a proper hero school. Seeing how some heroes are clearly drawing out a villain fight in public in hopes of getting more media attention instead of ending the fight immediately, the very pretentious nature of what the hero scene had become makes him sick.

Shouldn’t the civilians’ lives be your priority? Shouldn’t you end the fights as quick as possible so people can be safe? But by drawing out fights you only risk putting them in more danger. And for what?

Suffice to say, with how the HPSC had been subtly advocating and encouraging this behavior for years, Aizawa waited with bated breath, imagining what changes are going to be forced upon them now, which will only result in things being irrevocably worse. As if reading his thoughts, Nedzu’s beady eyes turned to him and caught his gaze, “Specifically, changes to our hero entrance exam.”

And there it is. Aizawa suppressed a twitch and gritted his teeth instead. What is it now? They were already fighting giant robots. Something that students who do not have destructive quirks are useless against. Something that Erasure is, was, useless against. A voice whispered in the back of his mind. What more did they want?

Distantly, Aizawa felt a hand gripping his under the table, providing a firm and grounding weight. Zashi. His mind supplied. He gave a tentative squeeze back. By now, the rest of the staff had perked up in trepidation as well, a few not so subtly shooting furtive glances in his direction. Nedzu only hired the best, after all. None of them were blind to the HPSC’s machinations, nor Aizawa’s unspoken contempt for them.

The rat’s face was now unreadable, even though his tone was still calm. “Starting from next year, it is now mandatory for UA to have two different sections of the entrance exam held for students who choose to enroll in the hero course. In addition to our regular exam, which is cater to destructive quirks, another section is to be held following the first, which will cater to those with non-destructive quirks. Mental quirks, intelligence, technological, the like.”

Aizawa’s mind grinded to a halt.

What?

“Although, as per the HPSC’s… instructions, students can choose to take whichever exam they want according to their own preferences.” Nedzu’s eyes flicked down to the papers held in his paws as if confirming the words for himself. “They can also choose to take both if they desired. Of course, we will need to hold separate sessions for the second exam to keep things balanced.”

What?

“Chiyo-san, Inui-san and Maijima-san. As you are not directly involved in the hero course’s curriculum, you can return to your duties. This is more as a heads up of what to expect in the following year so you can prepare in advance in your respective fields.” Nedzu turned to address the three of them.

“On top of physical injuries, ailments caused by drawbacks from mental quirks and the like should be expected.” A nod to Chiyo. “Considering the possible discrimination faced by students possessing these types of quirks growing up, especially those deemed ‘villainous’, more future first years may also find themselves in need of your expertise to help in their growth.” An acknowledgement to Inui.

“As for you, Maijima-san.” A smile finally replaced the unreadable look that had been on Nedzu’s face since the start of the meeting. However, while his eyes gleamed in familiar amusement, as reminiscent of his usual sadistic nature, something about how his smile just fell a bit shorter, the corners a little bit downturned, disclosed to those more observant that his heart wasn't fully in it. Nedzu was distracted.

“In the past, among the students who didn’t make the cut into the hero course, while most ended up in Gen ed, those with intelligence and technology quirks did often chose to settle for the support course. With these new changes implemented, I expected one or two of your potential first years may be snatched up by the hero course in the following year.”  A cheer colored the principal’s tone, though none in the room can tell how genuine it was.

“Other than that, though, just expect to receive more requests of support items catered to non-destructive quirks on the coming year. I have no doubts that your students will be fully capable of taking up the task. That is all.” The three mumbled polite dismissals and left the conference room seemingly in a daze, still contemplating what exactly had happened in the past 15 minutes.

As if Nedzu hadn’t just sprouted a bunch of words that did not compute in Aizawa’s mind, he continued onwards. “As for how the mental-based exam is to be conducted, the HPSC had given us a packet which we can follow and implement completely.” Folders were passed around to each of the remaining teachers at the table.

“Or, should we choose not to, we have the option to design the exam ourselves, as long as it meets the objectives and criteria listed in the given rubric form.” Another stack of papers stapled together stamped with the HPSC logo were passed around the table.

When the papers were passed to him, Yamada was the one who dutifully kept a copy for Aizawa and helped passed the rest to Nemuri. It seemed like he knew that his Shouta was a little too preoccupied in his own mind to do anything other than stared blankly at the papers in front of him.

“Please read through your copies of the packet and the rubric form. As this will undoubtedly take considerable amount of time, we will hold a meeting a few days later to discuss your thoughts on the matter and how we should proceed.” Nezu glanced at the clock hanging at the wall, indicating the time in which the teachers usually start prepping for their classes. “Well, I won’t hold you any longer, you are all dismissed.” Another smile with a flick of the tail.

Aizawa’s mind was akin to just white noise playing now. A monotone of silence stretched infinitely yet deafening in the recess of his mind. The absent decibels somehow correlating together forming a chord of dissonance.

Because-

What?

Chapter Text

Nedzu did not like humans.

If Nedzu was to give a fact about himself without any regards to tact or social conventions, then that would be it. It was a simple fact.

With a quirk like High Specs, it was both his curse and salvation. And if he was to suffer for it since the beginning of his existence, then Nedzu would damned well took full advantage of it and utilized it thoroughly in paving the rest of his life as well.

On the rare occasion where the day had dragged just a little bit too long, when he returned home exhausted in the quiet of the night, visages of ghosts long repressed would resurface, and with it brought along a precipitous chill that would seep and settled over him like a fog.

Old memories twisting and rearing its ugly head, engulfing him and plunging him further into the deep corners of his mind until his surroundings faded away.

White walls that would never see the light of day, piercing needles, the pungent, clinical smell of chemicals that was ever permeating the room. The scratching sound on paper with the clacking of keys accompanied by low murmuring as latex cladded hands poked and prodded him for answers. For a reaction. For more data. And –

Well, those would be the nights where he would jerked upright with a sharp inhale, took a deep breath, and began his usual meditative ritual of preparing his favorite tea. Though this rare occasion would be the only time he brewed it not for savoring the taste but for its calming effect.

Nedzu lamented how his fur would look less pristine the next day when he returned to work. A shame.

Simply put, humans had done too much to him, to ever change his general impression of them.

Although, Nedzu did have a soft spot for children, and respect for the heroes who broke him out of that abominable facility years ago after he managed to hatch an escape plan and tip them off on his location.

In later years, he would encountered more and more of the colleagues he came to know today, whom he would find himself tolerating, liking just a bit more than the average human.

Until he would admit to himself that somewhere in the past few years, he had perhaps unconsciously changed his stance. He did not like most humans.

Still, he had worked tirelessly to get to where he was today. From establishing his civilian identity as a quirked animal in society, becoming a pro-hero himself, teaching at UA, earning his administrative license, and finally, becoming the principal of UA.

Every step had been faced with hurdles; the people being threatened by the very idea of an animal being smarter than them. They had certainly tried their best to impede him.

But Nedzu was nothing if not smart and resourceful, so armed with nothing but his mind, he tackled them on with a vicious glee, thrilled in the prospect of a challenge. After being rescued, Nedzu had immediately read up on laws, delved deep in human psychology, how this world works, what makes the humans tick.

He molded himself, every move ever-calculated, from his attire to his demeanor, controlling how he will be perceived, thus influencing their reactions in return.

Nedzu felt delighted in the confusion and bewildered look his odd appearance evoked whenever he introduced himself, “Am I a mouse? A dog? A bear?” A move that never failed to lower their guard or just to tripped them slightly off balance.

At the beginning, he had started getting recognition due to all the articles he had published on quirk theory, education theory, and philosophy. Bolstered with his intelligence, his works spoke for themselves, quickly gaining traction as professionals can only commented the word ‘exemplary’ on his papers upon reviewed.

However, his big debut that made him known was when he managed to petition the laws to be amended, so those with mutant-type quirks could be given the same amount of respect and decency as the rest of society.

Back then, people born with mutation quirks used to be discriminated heavily just a step above the quirkless. (Something that Nedzu had only began to chip at by getting rid of the quirkless ban on UA applications.) They had all steadfastly rallied behind Nedzu and prevailed, the higher-ups passing the bill lest they risked a mutiny.

Humans and their discrimination. Nedzu mused to himself. Always so narrow-minded.

By the time the HPSC realized the standing where he had maneuvered himself to, he had already solidified his place, garnered too much of a following and attention with a reputation to boot for them to do anything, much to their dismay. A pro-hero well on his way to assume the position of principal in the most prestigious hero school in Japan.

Thus began the polite dance of political double talk. Sure, tedious it may be, but Nedzu indulged them in amusement. He did enjoyed toying with humans after all, especially those who deserved it. He had become well-versed and an expert in their game, and he played the game exceptionally well.

Every opposition posed by them counteracted and overruled by the very laws that they’ve written. Words intended to trap him skillfully circumvented, polite acquisitions carefully addressed without giving anything away.

It was just like chess after all. Moved the pieces, and they would response accordingly, not knowing their actions were already predicted and dictated the moment they stepped on his stage. Behind his courteous and cheerful smile, he would cackle with mirth seeing the frustration behind their eyes.

Ah. But he digressed.

UA was his to look after. For those who put their trust in him, Nedzu would in turn do his best to protect those under his care. He hadn’t called an impromptu meeting just to mess with his staff, albeit that would be hilarious. In truth, Nedzu had received the HPSC’s email on Friday. Upon reading the content, he had regarded their intentions with instant suspicion.

Being an entity in possession of an intelligence quirk, Nedzu had appeal many times before for changes to be made of UA’s entrance exam to accommodate those with non-destructive quirks, only to be shot down time and time again from the school board. And here the HPSC was handing it over on a silver platter, with an additional bow attached after years of turning a blind eye to it.

From the beginning of Nedzu’s tenure as the principal, he had calculated vast possibilities of what the HPSC could do to try bringing UA under their full control. Perhaps a long-winded game of manipulation, an imperceptible change here, an unassuming policy change there, all an elaborate plan to slowly caged UA in.

Nedzu had plans for all of them. (A small voice whispered that the plans he had made for the less than one percent chance of humans ever betraying him was there as well, readied to be enacted no matter how unlikely it would ever happen.) But this –

This fell outside from his calculations.

Sure, a gradual overhaul of their hero policies is a future Nedzu had planned for. But he had imagined the change to be brought upon by future hero students. Perhaps heralded by an exceptional batch of young hero hopefuls who would one day enrol in his school, surpassing every expectation and overcoming every challenge, ones who would embody the spirit of ‘Plus Ultra’ beyond anyone would expect of them. A generation which UA would be honoured to guide and teach.

So far, Nedzu hadn’t saw that spark of change yet, even though there had been a few outstanding UA alumni over the years. Some who had climbed to the top hero rankings today, others who had become just as competent like Aizawa-kun, who Nedzu felt a foreign sense of pride for, having taught the teen when he was still a student at UA.

Young Togata was shaping up to be a remarkable hero as well, though his ambition lay in following All Might’s footsteps rather than changing the system.

Oh well. To each his own, he supposed.

He also knew realistically there was a distinct possibility that he might not be around to saw that change happened in his time. As much as he tried to nudge things into place, the future was not set in stone after all, and revamping hero society was certainly a feat he couldn’t accomplished on his own.

Nedzu would simply be contented that he had and would continue to sow the seeds for the highest chance of that future happening.

That was neither here or now. For the time being, Nedzu had a job to do, which was finding out just what on earth was the HPSC up to. Deliberately implementing favourable changes in hopes of lowering his guard was a tactic too obvious for Nedzu to fall for. And while there were many things that he could described the HPSC with– ethically questionable, dubiously sketchy, potentially corrupted being a few, idiotic was unfortunately not one of them.

So, the first thing Nedzu did in his investigation was to contact a few of the other hero schools in Japan. As educators, it was only good practice to, at the very least, maintained a professional working relationship with the other principals around the area after all, even Shiketsu and Ketsubutsu, regardless of their proclaimed rivalry.

Nedzu had ever saw it just as another trial their students need to overcome, though the entertainment value he derived from it was certainly a bonus.

Most of the times when they got in contact was at the start of every year, so they could coordinate the date of their respective entrance exams as to not overlapped with anyone. If this change of policy regarding the entrance exam was a farce meant to target him, subsequently UA, then the other hero schools should not have any idea of the HPSC's newest change of policy.

Which is the exact reason why he was taken back when, the next day, against all odds of his calculations, the hero schools he contacted had all confirmed that they had received the same email as well. But the breakthrough was the exchange with his newly made acquaintance, Yumino-san.

See, Nedzu rarely got stumped, so he had pulled out all the stops to cover his bases. Sure, Shiketsu and Ketsubutsu aside, he had sent his inquiries to Seijin, Isami, and Seiai as well, but the fact remained that they were all hero schools that were still relatively known. Therefore, the HPSC was likely to expect he had communication with them.

Sutora Academy, however, was a small local hero school in Nara. He had never heard about it before, only coming across its name when he was intentionally searching for an obscure hero school that he never made contact. As a newly established hero school with only six years of establishment, it was, if you forgive his blunt assessment, unremarkable.

Which was exactly what he needed. A hero school that would be completely off the HPSC’s radar beyond getting registered and certified. It was perfect.

The principal, a woman by the name of Yumino Kanno, was a kind-hearted soul. After exchanging pleasantries upon first contact, Nedzu had worked his ‘people skill’ and cajoled her into revealing more information about her exchange with the HPSC. Nedzu knew that his reputation as UA High’s principal helped a lot as well, his presence often inspiring awe and intimidation in equal tandem.

According to Yumino-san, not only did she received the same policy change regarding their entrance exams, moreover, she had provided additional information that the HPSC will be making a public announcement regarding the changes on television soon, sometime within the week.

Nedzu’ eyes widen at the implications of what that entailed.

Apparently, there had been a few points in the HPSC provided packet she had wanted clarification on. Made sense, considering the difficulties a school with less funding would face in trying to implement a brand-new section catered for non-destructive quirks into their entrance exam. So, she had emailed back the HPSC to work out the details, and it was when they were finishing the discussion that the HPSC had mentioned that little titbit of information.

She claimed that they had been very accommodating, patiently answering her questions and, in light of the difficulties faced by the school’s limited resources, reached a compromise that Sutora Academy can proceeded with only one section of the entrance exam held, but it had been completely modified where both destructive and non-destructive quirks can be utilized to complete the goal, giving equal chance for the students to pass no matter the type of their quirks.

Nedzu’s mind was boggled with the realization that the HPSC had, evidently, spent a long time in discussion tailoring an entrance exam specifically for a small, unknown hero school because of the personal difficulties it faced. Yes, that had happened. According to Yumino-san.

Since when did the HPSC compromise?

Nedzu did not slept well that night.

---

The next day was a Sunday, which meant Nedzu had the entire day to himself. Using his hacking skill, Nedzu carefully slipped into the HPSC’s directory, though he only tried to skim the bare surface, taking a quick glance of what the most recent traffic and files that have been registered in their system were, before quickly backing out. Nedzu was no fool.

While he had the highest intelligence in Japan, it was only wise to be cautious that the HPSC would have implemented security measures that can detected even him should he lingered any longer. Getting into their system was not the problem, being found out after breaking in, however, was not something Nedzu can deigned to risk, even for him. Therefore, he knew how to pick his battles.

Reviewing the footage from the little recording device he had set up; he skimmed through the titles, hoping to at least picked up some kind of pattern. Most recent traffic was a bunch of emails addressed to hero schools (the ones he and the other principals received), PDFs that were just titled ‘mission reports’ (most likely from the heroes of their direct training programme), there were the usual files titled ‘inventory’, as expected of any functional, running agency, and…… termination letters?

It seemed like the HPSC had been cutting staff, the upsurge of termination letters dating back from around a year ago. Was there a reason for the gradual layoff? But–

Ah. No.

With every termination, there was almost just as many offer letters sent out as well. It was as if the HPSC had done an entire sweep of their employee ranks. Nedzu opened another tab on his computer, navigating to the HPSC’s official site and glancing through their list of officials running the agency.

President –  Sukea Achiba

Deputy President – Kakashi Hatake

Executive Vice President –  Eiko Sazai

Senior Vice President – Kyohei Chinosa

General Manager – Inami Yagasawa

Deputy General Manager – Utsuke Nagata

Ma-

.

.

None of the names stood out nor rang any bells for him. It was the beginning of a puzzle, still nowhere near any sense of coherence and certainly not enough pieces to make of anything, if this was even part of the puzzle.

But it was a start.

Shouta Aizawa knew he would have a headache, and he was right.

After the morning staff meeting with Nedzu, which Shouta was pretty sure he had clonked out somewhere near the end, Hizashi was able to nudge him back to the staff room, and handed him a steaming cup of coffee -bless his husband- that was enough to restart this brain.

Since classes were about to start soon, there had only been enough time for a quick brush of their shoulders before Hizashi left for his homeroom, though the long gaze they exchanged promised a more thorough conversation later in their home.

But even going through the rest of the day teaching ethics class for the second and third years, Shouta felt like he was just floating, his body going through the motions on auto-pilot. When he finally had some extra time between classes, he had dragged himself to an empty classroom and bunkered down under the podium. He was too disturbed, too shaken up by the whole ordeal of the meeting to be able to nap peacefully.

So, huddled in his comfy yellow sleeping bag and pretending to be asleep, Shouta clutched the papers in his hands and scanned through each and every word. Carefully. Meticulously. The papers would have caught fire by now with how hard Shouta was staring at them, trying to read between the lines and dissected every word for any hidden motives.

To his consternation, the more he read through them, the more off-kilter he felt. Because that’s the problem. There was nothing wrong at all, and everything right about the documents.

If they were to follow the packet, the alternative entrance exam would be held on Ground Omega, the wooded area. Each examinee was to be given either a red or green coloured envelope, which they needed to secure both and reached the building that would be set up in the center of the arena within the time limit.

There were teamwork points awarded for examinees who chose to work together. Strategy points for those who went for the ambush route. Espionage points for those who thought of using the envelopes as part of their plans. Disguising or making decoys. The rubric helpfully supplied.

Additionally, throughout the exam human-sized robots would patrol in set routes in the arena. While they would not attack the examinees, they would trigger a loud alarm noise that would last for 30 seconds should they detected an examinee, giving out their location to any examinees surrounding them. It was an obstacle that would test the examinees’ skill in stealth and their ability to move quietly. Something that he wholeheartedly approved.

Hell, snatching the envelopes they needed from other examinees wasn’t even the only way to get them. Some additional envelopes were hidden in hard-to-reach places, requiring agility and stamina to reach them. Parkour would be useful here.

A few buildings were to be set up at random points around the area as well, booby-trapped to the brim, but for examinees who managed to get through them, they would find envelopes awarded at the top floor. No doubt those with intelligence or technology quirks could try to take a crack at it. Hacking to shut the traps down -sabotage points awarded- or just planning around them. -strategy points awarded-

He reached the last paragraph. Examinees would be told they were not allowed to open the envelopes for the entirety of the exam. Failure to comply would result in instant disqualification. Shouta’s brows furrowed at that one, his eyes flicked to the rubric for an explanation. ‘Capable of following simple orders.’ Ah. Shouta supposed that make sense. In the past there had been students who got in over their head and disobeyed instructions when they were out in their internships or work-studies.

Overall, Shouta hated to admit it, but he was begrudgingly impressed.

He also realized that the entrance exam that the HPSC had suggested for them was made specifically for UA in mind. If the whole set up in ‘Ground Omega’ wasn’t a dead giveaway, the instructions for setting up the buildings and robots certainly were.

Not every hero school were ridiculously loaded as UA after all. He had a feeling Nedzu secretly played the stock market. How else did he funded all the giant robots and facilities that gets destroyed on a daily basis by their overly eager students? He dared not asked the rat and he would not be touching that topic with a ten-foot pole. Thank you very much.

This also meant that, did the HPSC hand crafted the entrance exam plans for every hero school instead of just sending the same template to all of them? IF the other hero school even received the same policy change. His eyes narrowed. When the final bell rung, he trudged to the rat’s office without a second wasted.

Shouta didn’t even cared to put up his usual slouch or rolled his eyes at how the door swung open just before he raised his fist to knock, or how Nedzu was sitting there calmly on his plush chair, two cups of tea already prepared, clearly expecting him. He simply looked the rat dead in the eye and asked him if UA was the only one that received instructions from the HPSC regarding how their entrance exams were conducted. They both heard the unspoken question.

“This is too good to be true. Is this a ruse? Something to lower our guard?”

But Nedzu had that same infuriating cheerful smile plastered on his face as he answered him that, no, other hero school had apparently received the same policy change as well.

Before shooing him out of the office, Nedzu had added on that, in fact, the HPSC would be officially announcing the policy change on television soon. How all hero schools were now mandatory to hold two separate sections for their entrance exams in order to cater for both destructive and non-destructive quirks.

Shouta spilled everything to Zashi the moment they both crossed the threshold of their home. Judging by the sharpened look of his eyes, Shouta could tell the moment the implications of what he said clicked in his husband’s head.

Hizashi is not stupid. His husband might portray himself as an airhead most of the time, loud, boisterous, goofy. But that was all part of his persona, and villains who made the mistake of underestimating Present Mic paid the price.

In truth, Yamada Hizashi was one of the smartest people he knew. He is smart in a different way from Nedzu. Hizashi is effortlessly charming, possessing a high empathy that allows him to have a keen grasp and understanding on how relationships work, being extremely in tune with a person’s emotional needs.

Hizashi makes it easy for people to connect with him, to trust him so he can help them. Knowing how to calm or lift someone’s spirit by just the sound of his voice and his words. His husband was truly amazing.

Hizashi instantly understood his dilemma. For if there was one breed of people who were ruthlessly unforgiving regardless of who their target was, it was the media.

Even the government and the HPSC, were not exempted from their deadly claws. Should they make a public statement as impactful as what they had stipulated live on television, only to backtrack and take back their declaration afterwards, even the HPSC would not be spared from the sheer backlash that would cause.

Public opinion will plummet, their reputation would be teared to shreds and left in ruins. And with how heroics is basically the face of today's society, Shouta wouldn’t even be surprised if riots broke out.

The mutant protest years ago still left a deep impression today, and that was with roughly one-third of the population in involvement. Splitting destructive and non-destructive, on the other hand, would downright included half of the population.

To summarize everything, a statement like that carries weight. It was a change that would be irreversible.

Huh. Who would have thought that Shouta would find the media useful for once. He had once likened the HPSC and the media to two unholy creatures practicing mutualism symbiosis on one another.

(“Let them just feed on each other” he had grumbled. “Sho!” His husband laughing hysterically while leaning over the couch, unable to hold himself up. “That’s hilarious -but- you know you’re not supposed to say that!” “Whatever.” A grunt, though he had dipped his head slightly into his capture weapon to hide the small, fond smile he had for making his husband laugh.)

Cuddling on the couch with their three cats, their quiet voices continued on through the night, hushed speculations and muttered theories thrown out until their voices slowly drifted off. Zashi getting up to do some paperwork he had brought home with him, while Shouta settled for his nap before his midnight patrol.

Hovering around the hazy brink of sleep, Shouta cursed himself for failing to crush the small flare of hope he could feel stirring in his chest.

The hope that perhaps the future is changing for the better.

Chapter Text

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Kakashi: (Do something)

Nedzu and Aizawa: SUS

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UA staff: So how many possibilities have you calculated of what the HPSC could do to us?

Nedzu: 14,000,605

UA staff:

UA staff: …what?

Nedzu: What

---

Nedzu: Don’t worry I have calculated all possibilities of our future! And I have plans for them!

Kakashi breaking the laws of reality: Yo :)

Nedzu: Wtf what is this

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Nedzu: There’s less than one percentage chance of humans betraying me. Even though I have made plans for it, it is likely it will never happen I don’t need to worry about it much.

People challenging the Gacha gods: YO 0.6% PULL RATE WE ARE AIMING FOR THAT SSR LET’S GOO

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Nedzu: (Looking at HPSC member list) Nope. Nothing rings any bells here.

Naruto fans screaming at him behind the wall: WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S RIGHT THERE

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Kakashi: I want a human-sized robot that patrols around and sound an alarm when it caught people.

Assistant: So basically the security bot in FNAF security breach?

Kakashi: Yes.

Kakashi: Wait what? -

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Reporter: Did you just copyright infringement on your former village?? Plagiarize your exams??

Kakashi: Maa I’m the copy ninja it’s what I do

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Yumino-san: So that day the principal of UA just started chatting with me out of nowhere it was a surreal experience. I guess I’m honored?

(Yumino-san later finding out Nedzu approached her because her school is ‘unremarkable’.)

Yumino-san: That f-

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Nedzu: Am I a mouse? A dog? A bear?

Kakashi: No you can talk so you are a summoned animal tell me who has your contract?

Nedzu: Bluescreened

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Nedzu: (Reminiscing his angsty memories)

Also Nedzu: My fur is not going to look good tomorrow :(

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