Chapter Text
The next three weeks passed in an interesting rush. Eraser seemed to be trying desperately to pretend nothing had changed since him realizing Lucky and Spite’s true ages, but was failing miserably at squashing down what Mei called his ‘brooding instincts’. That being his seemingly irrepressible desire to care for and protect every child in arms reach, and sulk on rooftops when said children went running headlong into danger anyways.
The steady supply of snacks were nice, admittedly. Apparently Present Mic was a stress baker, and with the school year starting up again there was lots of stress baking to go around. Or at least that was the excuse Eraser gave for shoving enough homemade treats into their arms that even Izuku had gained a couple of pounds. Which was about 70% more than they’d had shoved at them the year before, and also didn’t explain then not-baked-good snacks or homemade bentos. Eraser was unashamed what was very clearly a bold-faced lie, though, so Lucky didn’t call him on it. It wasn’t like it was hurting anything, and Eri was delighted. Her sweet tooth had never been so fulfilled.
Beyond that, the only real change had been to Izuku’s nickname; Eraser had switched, seemingly permanently, from calling them ‘Problem Vigilante’ to ‘Problem Child. Izuku... didn’t hate it as much as he thought he would. They refused to acknowledge the warm, fluttery feeling in his chest every time Eraser would say it. Or how the feeling had been strong enough to make him nauseous when Eraser had shoved notes with his and Present Mic’s home address into their and Spite’s hands, and insisted they had an open invitation. Had reiterated that Present Mic still wanted to meet them properly.
(Izuku tried to tell himself he wasn’t actually considering it.)
But all of that formed but a backdrop to the true changes overtaking their lives, as Izuku, Hitoshi, and Mei all prepared for the start of the school year. Izuku had to start decreasing the number of analysis commissions he took in anticipation of having less free time, had to go to a meeting with Nedzu to discuss which program he wanted to be be in, and set up before and after school care for Eri. He wound up working out a system with Nedzu where he’d be enrolled in both Heroics and Support, so he’d have access to the support labs at the cost of extra homework, and, after much thought, had entrusted the Rat God with the knowledge of their civilian identity, so that their private lessons could be moved from the evenings into their free period. His logic was that Nedzu held to human laws, such as the laws around vigilantism, for convenience alone, would figure it out anyways, and, most importantly, would think the whole situation was funny enough to let happen either way.
All the changes to his routine were a bit rough to handle, and it was gonna be a super challenging schedule to keep to boot, but Izuku had handled worse, so he’d deal with it.
But for all the changes that going to UA had brought, the day of the welcoming ceremony started relatively normal. Hitoshi, Izuku, and Eri all ate breakfast together, then they walked to the train station where they met up with Mei, took the train to UA, then dropped Eri off at her UA-run before school program, before they headed on to the school proper.
There was something different, about walking through the gates knowing they were students now. At long last. Both Izuku and Hitoshi had to pause for a moment to take it in. Mei did not, and was far too eager to blow up a new lab to wait on the boys’ melancholy. She dragged them along behind her as she raced ahead, and the moment was broken in startled squawks and laughter.
Getting to their classrooms didn’t take long, thanks to Izuku having stress-memorized the map of the school in the weeks prior, and their groupchat pinged with a message from Mei confirming her arrival at the 1-H classroom just as Izuku and Hitoshi were approaching their own classroom, 1-A. The highest-ranking first year heroics class of the most prestigious school in the country. Izuku took a deep breath as he stared up at the absolutely towering door. He knew it served a practical function, accessibility to various types of quirks mainly, but that didn’t stop the size from being intimidating. Granted, knowing Nedzu, that was probably also an intentional choice. Izuku let his breath out slowly and pushed the door open.
They were early enough that there was only two other people already there, the blue-haired kid from the entrance exam, and a kid with two-toned hair, red and white split right down the middle, and a supremely bored expression. Izuku’s fingers twitched to analyze their quirk, and he had to bite his lip to keep from blurting out a question; mutations could make for some pretty unique appearances, sure, but a split that clean suggested chimerism more than anything, and true chimeric quirks were fascinating, even before you considered just how rare they were! They’d have to find a way to ask about it later.
The blue-haired kid jumped to their feet as Izuku entered.
“You! How are you here?” they demanded, chopping their arm through the air. Izuku stiffened.
“I took the train,” he quipped, a bright smile spreading automatically over his lips. The blue-haired kid scowled. Oof, tough crowd. ...Maybe they should have spent more time practicing a way of dealing with conflict that wasn’t based on his vigilante persona. Behind him, Hitoshi was silent, waiting unnoticed until he got a queue to jump in. Izuku had trained him so well. Although, thinking of this like a combat situation might not be the most well adjusted plan. Oh well. If it worked, it worked.
“That is not what I meant!” the blue-haired kid snapped back, “You cheated on the exam! Academic misconduct is grounds for disqualification!” Hitoshi stiffened behind him, and Izuku forced himself to let out a long, slow breath, before fixing a stern expression on their face.
“As I told you at the exam, I didn’t cheat. There was no rule against bringing weapons into the practical, only a warning that any found would be taken away. I’ve spoken to Nedzu-sensei, and he’s even confirmed that not only was it not against the rules, but that I actually got points for sneaking them in successfully. Now, I’m Midoriya Izuku, I use he/they pronouns. It’s nice to meet you, please treat me kindly.” The kid winced at his tone and the reprimand, then dropped into a low bow.
“I apologize for my hasty and rude assumptions, Midoriya-san. Thank you for correcting me.” They straightened up, righting their square-framed glasses. “I am Iida Tenya. I use he/him pronouns. It is nice to meet you.” Izuku perked up at Iida’s name, finally stepping forward into the classroom properly as Hitoshi prodded him gently from behind.
“Iida? Are you related to the Turbo Hero: Ingenium, by any chance?” Iida straightened up.
“How observant of you, Midoriya-san! I hadn’t intended to say anything so that it would not affect others’ opinions of me, but yes. Ingenium is my older brother, Tensei. I aim to follow in his footsteps to become a great hero.” Izuku beamed at him.
“That’s a great goal to have, Ingenium is a fantastic hero to look up to! His number of rescues and captures without injury are incredible, and his record of charity work is top of the line!” Iida smiled, small, but clearly genuine, and a bit surprised. Despite his rather... forceful personality, Izuku didn’t think Iida seemed one for big grins or exuberant displays of excitement. They’d have to watch him carefully to figure out his tells.
“You must know a great deal about heroes, Midoriya-san! Not many people recognize my brother for his efforts to avoid causing injuries.” Izuku laughed sheepishly, sitting down down in the chair Hitoshi had pulled him over to.
“You could say that, yeah.” He was cut off from saying more by the door sliding open, and his gaze snapped to the new comer. Brown hair in a messy bob, round face with soft, pink cheeks, and a bright but undeniably nervous smile directed at someone out of view of the door- “You!” Izuku cried, lighting up. “You’re the kid that saved me!” The other kid startled, looking over, only to brighten in recognition.
“Oh! You’re that kid who tripped before the exam! You got in!” Izuku laughed, blushing.
“Not exactly what I was hoping to be known for, but I suppose it could be worse!” He stood up and bowed respectfully. “Thanks again for saving me! I’m Midoriya Izuku, he/they. It’s a pleasure to meet you officially!” The kid from the exam bowed back, smiling.
“I’m Uraraka Ochako, she/her! It’s a pleasure to meet you too! Please treat me kindly!” Iida cleared his throat as Izuku dropped back into his seat, standing and bowing.
“And I am Iida Tenya, he/him, from Somei Academy! It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Uraraka-san.”
“Likewise!” Uraraka chirped, glancing over at the white-board at the front of the classroom to find her assigned seat. The student who had been just outside the door ducked in after her. Izuku noted pencil straight green hair that fell to hip-length, pale, slightly greyish skin, large, dark eyes, and a wide, expressionless mouth, somewhat reminiscent of a frog.
“Asui Tsuyu, kero. She/her. Call me Tsu,” she said, quickly dropping into her own seat. Asu- Tsu was followed by a steady stream of other students, trickling in as the clock ticked closer to class time. Izuku did his best to keep up with the conversation, but even through his long-mastered strategy of ‘ignoring anything is wrong in the first place’ he could tell the sheer number of people was getting to him, even before Katsuki walked in the door. Katsuki, for his part, took one look at Izuku, who was listening to Uraraka ramble about an action-adventure movie she’d recently seen, froze solid for about three seconds straight, like he’d seen a ghost, gave a full body twitch, then promptly sat down, threw his feet up on his desk, and pretended Izuku didn’t exist. Izuku was... entirely in support of that plan of action, personally. He, also, would rather pretend Katsuki didn’t exist, at least until he could properly box up all his emotions so they wouldn’t intrude at inconvenient times.
Iida did not support this course of action, apparently, and promptly started lecturing Katsuki for putting his feet up on the table. It was, apparently, a form of disrespect of the absolute highest order. The growing commotion drew the eyes of all the other students talking amongst themselves, along with a fair amount of laughter at Iida’s thoroughly offended expression at being called a ‘stuck up ponce’ and an ‘extra’. Izuku felt a bit bad for him; he’d have to get over himself a bit if he was going to survive having Katsuki in their class. (Oh look at that, Izuku had already reached acceptance! His speed-running skills had improved greatly since his mom had left.) Katsuki’s manner of speaking didn’t seem to have changed all that much since elementary, though he must have chilled out at least a little bit. There’d have been explosions accenting his words otherwise. That was... a relief? Probably? Izuku glanced around, keeping an eye on his surroundings being a long-held and very much necessary habit, and so was the only one to notice the giant yellow caterpillar-thing slowly inching it’s way into the room. Almost the only one. The quick jab to his spine, courtesy of Hitoshi, confirmed he’d seen it as well. Or, more accurately, seen him as well. A tired face framed by slightly greasy black hair emerged from the front of the cocoon, and Izuku made eye contact with Eraser, inching along the floor like his wonderfully dramatic self. Izuku smiled and gave him a small wave. Hitoshi jabbed him in the back harder, repeatedly, having clearly made the connection between Eraser’s sleeping bag and the one Izuku had given Hitoshi years ago. It was going to happen eventually, but the consequences were going to be unpleasant. Oh well. Eraser’s gaze shifted from Izuku and Hitoshi to the squabble taking place center-stage. By which Izuku meant Katsuki’s desk, right in front of Izuku. He looked thoroughly displeased. Izuku empathized. Eraser cleared his throat as he pulled himself to his feet, and the room erupted in screams. And no small amount of swearing. Izuku was impressed by the variety; at least one person had sworn in English, and they were pretty sure the sparkly blond kid nearest the door (Aoyama Yuuga, any pronouns) was responsible for the French.
“If you’re only here to make friends, go somewhere else,” Eraser grunted, cutting off Katsuki and Iida before Katsuki could start an all out brawl. Several of his new classmates shot Eraser incredulous looks, and Izuku bit his lip to keep from laughing. Yes, making friends was definitely Katsuki’s goal there. “You’re in the hero course,” he continued, shedding his sleeping bag like a lizard it’s dead skin. “It took you eight seconds to quiet down, and only three of you noticed my presence before I announced myself.” Eraser looked around the room, staring into the soul of every student present. Izuku saw a round of shivers go around the class, but himself felt only pride at having passed this first test. He wondered who else had noticed? “On both counts, your behavior is irrational. If you are to stay in this class, that will have to change. Time is valuable, and villains won’t wait for you to notice them before attacking you.” Eraser- Aizawa in this context?- pulled a snack pouch out of his capture weapon, which really just looked like a shabby grey scarf, if you didn’t already know what it was, and drained it in one gulp. “I will be your homeroom teacher, Aizawa Shouta.” Definitely Aizawa then. “You all are going to get changed into you gym uniforms and meet me in the field you see out the classroom windows. You have five minutes.” He tossed the snack pouch into the trash bin by his desk, then walked back out the door, leaving the class blinking after him. Izuku quickly shoved his notebook (‘Student Analysis vol. 1’) into his bag and stood.
“What- what does he mean by that?!” Uraraka cried, “what about the entrance ceremony? Or orientation?!”
“UA’s got a reputation for letting the teachers ‘free style’, you could say,” Hitoshi pipped up, shrugging back into his chair as all eyes turned to him. “Not exactly surprised that applies to the first day, too.” At that, he turned to Izuku. “I’m assuming you memorized where the locker rooms are, too.”
“Yep!” Izuku nodded, then turned to the rest of the class. “Come on, I can show you the way, but we’ve gotta hurry if we’re gonna make it on time!” The scramble as everyone rushed to grab their things was nearly deafening.
~
The Little Menace was one of the first students to reach the field, Shouta noticed. Unsurprising. They were second only to Todoroki Shouto, who they immediately attempted to strike up a conversation with, and were followed immediately afterwards by Shinsou Hitoshi, who they clearly already knew. It was unsurprising that it would be the trio that noticed him entering the classroom that would be the first ones out. That they had also all managed to do so within his time limit was, while not unprecedented, also not expected. He couldn’t help but be a bit impressed. The only other student to make it to the field within five minutes, albeit only barely, was Uraraka Ochako, who showed up huffing and puffing with about 15 seconds to spare. She’d glanced around at the lack of her other classmates present, then thrown herself all-but-bodily into the conversation with the Menace, leaving the two almost-definitely introverts to drift to the clearly-much-prefered sidelines.
Watching the incredibly vibrant conversation between the two probably-extroverts of the group, Shouta couldn’t help but be a bit surprised at just how bubbly Midoriya seemed to be. It wasn’t a common trait for people as frequently bullied as the Quirkless to have. But then, everyone’s response to trauma was different, and neither ‘fake it till you make it’ nor ‘be friends with everybody’ were the worst strategy he’d seen. He seemed to be doing just fine at the actual socializing aspect too, making up for any awkwardness with sheer enthusiasm. Shouta’d keep an eye on the situation either way, of course; He didn’t stand for bullying, and quirk discrimination even less. It was just... reassuring, that was all.
Between the two of them, Midoriya and Uraraka were able to keep a steady conversation going until the rest of their class arrived, dragging every new arrival into the growing gaggle of chattering students as they entered their sphere of influence. Shouta couldn’t help but be grateful for the frequent rounds of introductions they kicked off as a result; Just from listening in, he was already way closer to matching all the students faces to names and pronouns than he usually would be this early in the year.
Somehow, despite having watched the kid keep track of every person in sight this entire time, Shouta was still surprised when, as the twentieth student approached the group, Midoriya rapidly shushed everyone, directing their attention towards Shouta himself. He raised an eyebrow at the kid, who grinned at him, seeming to know what he was thinking. By that point though, the class had quieted down, so he turned away from Midoriya.
“Today, we’re going to be doing a physical assessment test,” he announced, looking over the class. “You kids have been doing these since Junior high, but the department of education still takes the averages from students not using their quirks. It has it’s purposes, but for aspiring heroes, that’s not rational.” Shouta let his eyes skim over the students in front of him. Normally, for this, he’d just take whoever scored number one on the practical exam, but in this case, that was the Little Menace, who he knew was Quirkless. The second place scorer, Shinsou, wouldn’t work either, given his files described his quirk as being a non-physical mental type. Which left... “Bakugou. You would say you have a powerful quirk, yes?” Bakugou, who seemed to have the attitude of a thug and the appearance of a Pomeranian, scoffed.
“Of course, teach.” Shouta nodded, making a mental note to keep an eye on the kid’s attitude. He would not be responsible for letting a second Endeavour loose on the streets.
“In junior high, what was your highest score at the softball throw?”
“67 meters.” Impressive. This was going to be fun to watch. He beckoned him forwards into the circle, and tossed him a softball.
“Try doing it with your quirk. Anything goes, just stay in the circle. Give it all you’ve got.” Bakugou gave him a frankly concerning smirk, and turned to face the field. He contemplated a moment, stretching out his shoulder, before dropping into stance and whipping the ball forwards with a scream of-
“DIE!!!!!!!” An explosion big enough to send the other students stumbling backwards erupted from the kid’s hand, and the ball vanished from his sight. Shouta made another note to himself, this time about making sure the kid was in some sort of counseling. Just in case. He glanced down as the monitoring device in his hand beeped, and held up the resulting score for the other students to see.
“705.2 meters.” Several of the students gasped, and a wave of murmuring broke out. “Know your own limits, then surpass them.” Shouta swept his gaze over his class. “That is the most rational way to improve, and become a hero.” Several of the students, such as Midoriya, looked determined. Others, such as Shinsou, looked a bit panicked. Some, like the boy with the elbow mutations or the pink kid, looked almost excited.
“This seems fun!” the pink kid chirped, closely followed by,
“We can use our quirks as much as we want!”
~
Izuku shivered as those horrible, horrible words passed Ashido’s lips, and the blank look that came across Aizawa’s face in response.
“’It looks fun,’ huh?” he said, voice soft. Most of the class stilled. “You have three years to become a hero. Three years to prepare you for one of the single most dangerous careers in Japan. Will you have an attitude like that the whole time?” Aizawa’s lips pulled back from his teeth. “How about this? The person who comes in last place overall,” and here his face split into a truly terrifying grin, “will be judged to have no potential, and will be expelled.” The class exploded.
“What?! But that’s not fair!” Uraraka cried, voice rising above the din.
“Not fair?” Aizawa leveled her with a dead-eyed stare. “Life isn’t fair, kid. Natural disasters, big accidents, selfish villains, discrimination. Japan is filled with unfairness. My job as a hero, and what will one day be your job, is to try and make it just that little bit more fair. But if you were hoping for an easy time at UA, then too bad. Because for the next three years? UA will push you to your limits and beyond. If you can’t take it, you shouldn’t be here. So give it all you’ve got.” He smirked at them, challenged them. “Plus Ultra.”