Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Izuku was four years old when he was told that he was quirkless. He’s adamant that they’re wrong.

He’d been a happy and playful child, from what little he could remember of those days. He’d been excited, the same as many other children, to find out what his quirk was.

He felt sure it had something to do with fire or light because of Kacchan’s quirk.

Kacchan’s quirk was Explosion, and he’d had trouble controlling it when it had first come in. He had accidentally used it on Izuku a few times, burning his clothes and backpack when he got excited. But Izuku himself had never been burned by it.

(His ears would ring a little, but nothing bigger than that.)

He’d felt warmth wash over him from the light and the sparks, but never pain. If anything, he’d felt energized from it! His skin was never burned, and there were never marks on him. He was sure that meant his quirk had something to do with fire.

After all, people’s bodies adapted to help them with their quirks. So, if he couldn’t be burned, then that meant he was built to be able to do something with fire. Right?

So he waited and waited and waited. But… His quirk just wouldn’t make itself known. Until he was the last kid in his day-care who still didn’t know what his quirk was. And everyone was getting confused about it. His classmates, his friends, his teachers, everyone was wondering why nothing had shown up yet.

So his mom took him to the doctor, deciding that they couldn’t just sit and wait anymore. It was time they got an answer.

After all the tests, the X-rays, everything, they told them he was quirkless.

But he wasn’t quirkless! Kacchan couldn’t burn him; that had to mean he had a quirk! His quirk let him not get hurt by fire! That meant they were wrong. They must have made a mistake. It didn’t make sense!

The doctor insisted he was quirkless and just confused about it. That Kacchan was just young, so his quirk hadn’t grown enough to hurt him. That he didn’t have any powers because he had the toe-joint, and it was right there in the X-ray.

He’d been frustrated. Enough that once they got home, he sat in his room and cried.

Okay, it had been more like a tantrum than just a long cry. It didn’t matter.

What did matter was that he knew he had a quirk. He had some kind of power, at the very least! Explosions, even tiny ones, could burn people. And he’d never been burned by Kacchan. Kacchan couldn’t burn him.

So maybe, even with what the doctors said, he was immune to fire? Maybe that was his quirk. Not that anyone seemed to listen to him when he said that.

It took a year before he stopped trying to convince people that he wasn’t quirkless.

No one would listen to him, no matter how many times he told them that he was immune to fire, so he must have a quirk. They just thought that he was in denial. That he was making things up to fit in.

He was a kid, one who loved heroes. Of course, he’d make up stories to make himself normal and convince people he would be a hero someday. They made up their minds without ever listening to what Izuku tried to say.

Not even Kacchan believed him. (And didn’t that hurt?)

Instead, his best friend started trying to hurt him on purpose. Burning his stuff and yelling mean things at him over and over again. Kicking and hitting him whenever he tried to get him to stop picking on other kids.

(Where did his best friend go? What made Kacchan do this? Why did he start doing that? Kacchan got angrier after his quirk came in, but Izuku never thought his best friend would turn that anger onto him.)

Kacchan never noticed that there were never any marks from his quirk on Izuku. Even when he left handprints on his clothes, there was never a mark on Izuku himself. The noise would make Izuku’s ears ring, but he was never actually hurt by it.

Other quirks left marks, fists and kicks left marks on him. But not Kacchan’s explosions.

Izuku was pretty sure the school nurse believed him. At least about being immune to fire. It was the only explanation for how he’d avoided being burned so many times despite all the marks on his clothes. Instead, she gently taught him how to treat other people’s burns and how to put out a fire safely. (He didn’t know you could use sand to put out a fire, but it was very useful if there wasn’t any water!)

He didn’t tell his mom about it, though. He was sure that finding out that Kacchan was the one burning all his stuff would make her sad. So he lied and said it was a kid at the park who kept bullying people until he tried to chase them away.

His mom was already hurting from his dad leaving them. She didn’t need to know his best friend… Wasn’t being a good friend anymore.

(It was because of the doctor’s visit. He was sure of it. Not even his dad believed him. Shouldn’t he believe him? Dad could breathe fire. He should know that if Izuku said he couldn’t be burned, then he was telling the truth. He had to have gotten it from his dad!)

(So why did he leave? Why did he think Izuku was lying? He said it was for work, but… Mom cried at night. Izuku could hear it even if she tried to hide it. It wasn’t fair…)

Four and five are some of the worst years of Izuku’s life.

.

.

At six and seven, he stopped talking about becoming a hero at school.

Then he stopped talking about it at the park. Then, he stopped talking about it around town. Until he only talked about his dream of being a hero in the safety of their apartment, as his mom made dinner and he did his homework.

He didn’t stop talking about heroes, no. He loved them too much to ever stop talking about them. Especially with how entangled they are in society. Never bringing up heroes would be like never talking about the news!

No, Izuku just stopped talking about becoming a hero.

It stung, constantly being told he couldn’t be a hero by the people around him. It hurt that no one would believe him, believe in him. So he fell silent about his dreams. People stopped asking about them the moment he said that he was “quirkless” anyway.

(He’d prove them wrong. Just because everyone thought he was quirkless didn’t mean he couldn’t be a hero.)

But he would find a way. It would take a while, but he was a kid. He had plenty of time to figure it out. If he couldn’t train his quirk yet, then he could train the rest of himself instead.

He convinced his mom to sign them both up for a self-defense class, at least. It had seemed like a very good idea for both of them: healthy exercise and advice on what to do if something bad happened. Their teacher, Sango-sensei, was firm on teaching people about what they can do to keep safe if they got caught up in a villain attack.

Her focus was on what to do to get yourself to a safe place and how to escape if you were stuck. It was better to try and escape on your own than to hope a hero would come by and dig you out personally. Or to get away from a criminal if they tried to make you a hostage.

(She was very specific about saying “Criminal” instead of “Villain” during her classes. Which made sense. Villain was more for people who used their quirks illegally, but not all crimes were committed with a quirk.)

She also wasn’t above teaching the kids to fight dirty if an adult they didn’t know tried to grab them. She told them all the things they could say and do to escape. Where to kick and punch to get away and what to scream to get a responsible adult to come as fast as possible. She even talked about safe places like Libraries and community centers where they could go for help if they couldn’t get to a police station.

Best of all, she didn’t treat Izuku like he was frail or helpless just because he was quirkless. If anything, she seemed even more determined to help Izuku learn how to defend himself. She even offered to give him lessons on using self-defense gear once he was a bit older! If his mom was okay with it, of course. (He hoped she would be. Sango-sensei knew how to use a quarter staff, and those were cool. He wanted to know how to use one, too.)

His mom liked the classes. He could tell. The world felt less scary when there was someone there to teach you how to stay safe. It was less scary when you knew there was something you could do to stay safe. Something that was in your power to do, and that you didn’t just have to sit and hope that someone else could help you.

(Izuku planned to recommend Sango-sensei to everyone. If he ever met a hero student who wanted to take classes, he would tell them about Sango-sensei.)

Sango-sensei helped his mom smile more, she seemed happier and less nervous than he remembered her being. And she talked more about her friends and the people she worked with at home than she did before.

The class was good for both of them.

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Izuku was nine when he started his quirk research.

It was started in a fit of frustration mixed with determination. Everyone was telling him that he would never be a hero without a quirk. He’d never be able to fight villains without one. He needed to just give up already and find something else that he wanted to be.

Izuku thought that they were wrong. Besides, there was more to being a hero than just fighting villains.

All Might, his idol, did more than just fight villains!

There was Search and Rescue! Emergency services and Disaster Aid, too! You didn’t have to be a hero specifically to do those. There were other ways to help people, and there were heroes who specialized in those. So he could be like them instead of fighting villains.

More than anything else, Izuku wanted to help people.

And a quirk wasn’t a requirement to help people when they needed it.

But everyone had a point about the villains, as much as he didn’t like it. Being immune to fire wasn’t very helpful if the villain didn’t have a fire quirk. So he’d just have to be smarter than them.

He started researching heroes and their quirks. Because if he couldn’t fight a villain, then he needed to know which heroes to ask for help. He made as many notes as he could, trying to figure out as much as he could about their quirks so he could turn to the perfect heroes for whatever villain showed up and get them to help.

He figured out the quirks of his classmates and how they worked. If they became heroes, then he might need to ask them for help later, so he needed to figure out all the pros and cons they had before then. Even if they were mean now, they could always change later. So it would be good to know what they could do now.

(His notes on Kacchan were… Extensive. But Kacchan used his quirk a lot, so it wasn’t a big surprise. Plus, Izuku knew Aunt Mitsuiko and Uncle Masaru’s quirks, too.)

Studying villains’ quirks helped him come up with ways to counter them. Figure out their patterns and trends to catch them with as little harm as possible. It was a skill he knew he’d need as a hero, so studying as much as he could was important. The faster he could figure out what a villain could do and how, the sooner he could get help to stop them.

That last one was called Quirk Profiling, according to his mom.

It was considered a branch of Criminal Profiling, where someone took the clues left behind from someone’s quirk to figure out what it was and how it worked. It was a very important tool for heroes since it let them narrow down their villains and figure out how to stop them. He read somewhere that underground hero agencies had lots of Quirk Profilers working for them.

(He liked the sound of that as a job. Maybe he could get a second degree in that. After he became a hero.)

.

.

Izuku was eleven when he accidentally freed a god(?) and turned his world on its head.

Izuku had just been trying to find a birthday present for his mom. There was an old antique shop close to the main markets that he’d visited several times for old hero merch. He’d thought it would be a perfect place to find something to surprise his mom with for her birthday that he could afford with his allowance.

The owner, Mrs. Kidashi, had smiled softly when he asked her for help finding a present and pulled out a few old jewelry boxes and some old accessories for him to look through.

He found a very pretty old hair clip that would be just perfect. The little decorative crystal flowers were a little dull, and the metal could use some shining, but the little green and gold clip was exactly what he had been hoping to find.

But, tucked away in the largest box that he looked through, was a little black and red gift box that caught his eye.

It was hexagon-shaped and very old, and more than a little dirty. It looked like someone had done a sloppy job of adding a lock to it later, too. The lock was pretty ugly and cheap-looking when he compared it to the box it was attached to. Izuku was sure he could get it off without damaging the box.

Mrs. Kidashi said she’d gotten the box in an estate sale from someone who used to travel abroad a lot, and she had no idea if there was something inside the box. There was a little rattling inside when it was shaken, so she thought there was something in it, but she had no idea what it could be. She said the lock was surprisingly stubborn for her, and she was too worried about damaging the box in the process. That didn’t stop her from letting Izuku take both the clip and the box with him.

He carefully hid both from his mother when he came home, deciding that he would use the box to give the clip to his mother once he got it open. And he didn’t want her to see the clip before he had the chance to clean up the clip so it would be nice and shiny for her. 

He had some stuff for cleaning up old models that he was pretty sure would work on the clip. So he didn’t have to go out and try to find some polish for it!

The locked gift box, on the other hand, took more work.

It took a lot of careful wiggling and jiggling with his model-building tools to finally get the lock off. Then it had been simple to pop open the box.

Where a little purple and white, butterfly-shaped broach sat on the fancy red cushion inside. Except the pretty broach didn’t hold Izuku’s attention for very long because he was quickly distracted by the glowing light that drifted up from the broach and formed into a little… Fairy-thing over his desk.

A fairy that looked scared for a moment before it finally spotted him, then it just got very nervous. A fairy that, once he asked if it was a fairy, said it wasn’t.

They were a Kwami, and their name was Nooroo, and that was their special magic brooch, and did Izuku know where they were? They had been asleep for a very long time in the box and didn’t know what had happened during that time.

They seemed sad and kind of scared. Like they needed help

Izuku wanted to be a hero because he wanted to help people. And this was a chance to do just that.

During the year he’d known Nooroo, the little Kwami became his closest friend. Far better than Kacchan had ever been.

Nooroo listened as Izuku told him where they were, how he got Nooroo’s box, what had changed in the world while he was locked inside, and whatever else Izuku knew and Nooroo asked about. And, most importantly, he listened to Izuku.

He listened as Izuku told him about Quirks and Heroes, how the world had changed to adapt to them, how daily life had changed with the addition of nearly every human having a special power unique to them. About Pro Heroes, Villains, and Vigilantes and how they affected everything.

He told Nooroo about a dream that he wanted more than anything else, but no one believed he could ever achieve.

He lamented that no one believed him about having power of his own, just because he had the extra toe joint. He just wanted to be a hero and help people, but everyone was sure he was powerless. He was sure they were wrong; he could feel it in his soul.

And Nooroo finally gave him an answer.

Izuku didn’t have a quirk. Because he had something else.

He had magic, and that was the source of his special powers. He had a power that was disconnected from his genetics and as much a part of him as they were. Something he didn’t have alone, but was very hard to know about without help in a world like the one he lived in. Not without someone else to notice it. Nooroo could feel his magic, a gentle glow like a star with warmth like the sun. Izuku just needed a little help to learn how to use it.

Izuku asked if Nooroo knew who could help him learn, but the Kwami said he didn’t know of anyone who might still be around that could do it.

But Izuku had a noble goal, wanting to help people. He thought that was a good reason to want to learn. And, for such a noble goal, Nooroo was willing to help him. He didn’t know much about the gentle magic in Izuku, but he’d be happy to help him where he could.

So, under Nooroo’s tutelage, Izuku began learning about the magic that flowed through his body. Flaring out from deeper than his blood and bones.

It was some form of light magic, according to Nooroo, with a few notes of fire magic to it. It didn’t feel like it would be very good for fighting. However, there were other things it was good at. Things that could be just as helpful if he used them in the right way.

He could express himself with flares of light around his head and hands, making bright effects to illustrate a point he was trying to make and conjuring small things like little butterflies made of light. Not to mention his immunity to being burned and, as it turned out, being able to draw magic and energy from firelight and sunlight.

And, with the right spell, he could use that energy to heal himself. At least, that was what Nooroo thought it could do since Izuku’s cuts and bruises healed so quickly. But Izuku wasn’t very keen on doing anything big to test that theory, nor was the Kwami keen on encouraging the idea.

Once Izuku started learning to use his magic properly, he had started to glow. Nothing noticeable with the lights on, but in the dark, he could make out his own light and vaguely see with it. It wasn't much brighter than a few candles, but it radiated from his small body in the dark. Just enough for him to find the bathroom at night without tripping or stepping on anything.

He already had ideas for how he would explain his magic when he signed up for UA, if he was caught using it. A light manipulation quirk that was ignored/missed because it was mostly passive-protection until he managed to figure it out.

But now, with the lessons he’d gotten from Nooroo, he was more hesitant about becoming a hero proper. Izuku was able to come up with plenty of ways to use his magic, but it seemed that villain captures would be something he wouldn’t be able to do alone. Not without some serious combat training to make up for it, or a ton of support items. Perhaps he could follow another route and be licensed for just a specific type of heroics instead of a general license?

(Someone could get a licence for just Search & Rescue or just Disaster Relief. Doing it like that meant that you didn’t need to go through full heroics schooling, just the lessons that applied to your chosen specialty. It was kind of like being licensed as an EMT instead of a Doctor or Surgeon.)

Nooroo also taught him about people and places he had never seen before.

He told him of heroes from the far past and their bravery and determination to face down evil to build better, happier worlds. The evils they faced, big and small, and the prices they paid to create better futures for the people who came after them.

He walked him through languages and stories that could help him build the future he wanted to live. Folk stories and fables that shaped different parts of the world. The trials and tribulations that shaped the countries they came from, and how they interacted with the rest of the world beyond them.

And, eventually, Nooroo confided what it meant to be a kwami and the power of the miraculous that Izuku had been caring for.

That he was a concept of the universe given life and form, that he was the embodiment of Transmission and Transformation. That his powers had been used and abused in the past, to hurt the world he had wanted to be part of, as more than an unseen watcher. That he had been forced to see and feel the ways his powers had been used to hurt friends and strangers alike.

That he still grieved for the people who had been irreparably hurt by the ones who’d abused his powers.

At his heart, he'd wanted his power to be used to help the world blossom and flourish. But he’d been denied that for a long time. Being able to help Izuku use his powers, his hard-earned skills, to help innocent people was one of the happiest things Nooroo had done in a very long time.

He was happy to let Izuku use the passive powers of his brooch, the ability to sense the emotions of those around him, to help others. To help the lonely child at the park make a new friend, to help the scared lady at the cafe nearby with an angry customer, and to comfort the grieving grandmother who missed her husband after he passed away. All of which Izuku happily did without hesitation.

They were little things, in the grand scheme of the world, but they were giant to the people facing them.

Izuku enjoyed every moment of shared happiness from his acts of kindness.

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Izuku was twelve when, under Nooroo’s gentle encouragement, he became a Vigilante.

A terrible case on the news about a little girl who had been kidnapped at the local park convinced them both to take a leap of faith.

For Nooroo to convince Izuku to use his Miraculous to create butterflies from their combined magic to find the little girl and lead the local heroes to her before the worst could come.

(He knew that little girl; her name was Kushina. She had needed a friend to sit a play with her and distract her from the way her parents fought at home. He played with her almost every Sunday at the little park down the street. Her favorite color was blue, the same shade as the sky on a sunny day.)

(In 40% of child kidnappings, the child is killed before the police can find them. 4% are never recovered. He couldn’t let that happen to her. Please, not little Kushina-chan!)

Nooroo suggested how he could hide who he was, then told him what he could do with the power of a Miraculous. Told him of sensing emotions, speaking with his mind through the magic of a butterfly, hiding his face behind a mask that couldn’t be removed by anyone but him. Of being able to change his face and his voice so that no one would make the connection between Izuku Midorya and the Mysterious Butterfly Wielder.

Izuku knew vigilantism was wrong, at least in this day and age. He knew that they should just leave it to the heroes and listen for updates on the news. He knew (now, at least) that Nooroo’s powers were dangerous if used wrong or if he let himself be overly tempted by them. He knew all of this.

But there was a desperate family who wanted their little girl back. There was a scared little girl out there who needed help. There was a criminal who had snatched her away and was threatening her family.

And the power to help them was sitting innocently on his desk, waiting to be put on and used to do good.

It was risky.

It was dangerous.

It would get him in so much trouble if he were caught.

(Except… he wanted to help people. To save them. To prove that, even in the darkest times, there was still a spark of hope. So was it really a choice?)

So Izuku yanked his notebooks from their shelves, picking and choosing elements from past butterflies and the people they’d changed that Nooroo had told him about, and came up with a costume. He thought of little edits to hide who he was from anyone that he would speak to, and anyone who might spot him as he slipped through the night to get closer to the kidnapping area.

It was, after all, the little details that made the best disguises.

He made himself look and sound just a little bit older. Not an adult, he didn’t think he could ever pass for an adult. But he could change enough to seem a few years older than he actually was.

A few inches taller than he was, cheeks a little less rounded than they were, a voice that was just a bit deeper than it currently was. Making his hair long enough to be tied back, and changing the color to look more black than the natural green he shared with his mother. Clothes that hid his body shape just enough to keep someone from guessing how much muscle he had or how broad his shoulders might be. A theme that most wouldn’t think was the brain-child of a purely Japanese teenager.

All of them came together to create a person, a possibly high school-aged teenager, that no one would know was actually a twelve-year-old Midoriya Izuku.

He snuck out into the crisp night air and used his new senses and his butterflies to find Kushina and her kidnapper, and then used them to lead the police to the very door that they’d been hidden behind.

He’d forgotten to pick a name before heading out that night, admitting that he hadn’t thought of one when speaking into the mind of the detective on the case, when he told them where the kidnapper and his victim were. He was lucky that the man had taken him at his word and gone where Izuku told him to go.

By morning, little Kushina was safely returned to her parents, and the neighborhood celebrated that she had come home.

Technically, Izuku had committed vigilantism. He had used his powers to be involved in solving a crime when he didn’t have a license. The detective had thanked him but warned him that he shouldn’t get involved again. (He couldn’t arrest Izuku, after all. Since he wasn’t physically there, and the detective didn’t have a name for him.)

Izuku didn’t regret it.

There had been a rush from what he’d done. Both fear and excitement when he’d first slipped out, then knee-weakening relief when Kushina was safe in the arms of her family.

But the city was full of powerful emotions, anger and fear and hate, and so much more. Things that Izuku and Nooroo could feel bubbling away under the surface, that so easily came to pass simply because help didn’t know to come sooner.

They couldn’t help acting again. And again. And again.

Until Izuku finally came up with a name for the person behind the butterflies, and both Heroes and Officers alike knew it. And both started keeping eyes out for glowing butterflies fluttering through the night sky.

He had a double life, and it was worth every second.

Chapter Text

“Izu-bocchan! It’s morning! Inko-kaasan says it’s time for you to get up!”

“Already? I thought I had a little longer…” Izuku mumbled while rubbing blearily at his eyes. He squinted at the window, the morning light filtering in over his carpet. Nooroo fluttered by his head, smiling gently at his sleepy chosen.

“Normally, yes. But you promised that you'd see Eri-chan off for her first day of Pre-K!” He jolted up at that, rolling out of bed with a quiet swear that his kwami didn’t bother scolding him for.

“Oh no! I forgot what day it was!” He yelped, scrambling for his closet. “Nooroo! Please tell Mom and Eri-chan that I’ll be ready really soon.”

Nooroo giggled, then phased through the door of Izuku’s room to tell the other members of the house.

He stumbled slightly through putting on his uniform for school, pinning Nooroo’s miraculous to the inside of his gakuran where no one but he would know it was there, before ducking into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his hair as best he could. He knew it was a losing battle, but he wanted to at least try to make his riot of curls look presentable. (He was seriously thinking of growing it out, in hopes that the length would weigh it down enough to make it more tameable. Maybe he could try a style like his mom…)

He trotted into the kitchen, backpack held by a single strap over his shoulder.

His mother was at the counter, humming to herself as she portioned out breakfast onto plates to carry to the table. Eri was already sitting at the table, listening to Nooroo tell a folktale while waiting for breakfast to be served.

“Good morning, Mom! Good morning, Eri-chan!” Izuku chirped, setting his bag by his chair. His mother greeted him warmly, and Eri smiled from her seat.

“Niichan! Nooroo was telling me a new story!” She smiled brightly, bouncing as she waved at him. “It’s about a spider who wants to know all the world’s stories! And a sky god gave him a bunch of quests before he could have them!”

Izuku grinned, letting his adopted little sister tell him about Nooroo’s story while the Kwami patiently waited to continue once she finished. Happily letting the emotions of his family wash over him.

He could feel Eri’s joy and the quiet awe for the clever little spider as she spoke, gesturing with her free hand as she did. The calm contentment that radiated from his mother as she placed the food down in front of everyone before sitting down and tucking in herself. The steady glow of fondness from Nooroo as he nibbled on the sliced fruit his mother had cut for the kwami and the glass of sweet juice set beside his own spot on the table.

Izuku let himself soak it all in, basking in the warmth of their little family.

(Happy mornings like this were his favorite. Any meal when they all felt happy was precious to him.)

“Eri-chan? Are you excited for your first day?” He asked gently. Eri paused, quietly nibbling at her omurice. Izuku could sense the flickers of nervousness that appeared. He continued, “It’s okay if you’re nervous. I was really nervous the first time I went.”

“You were?” She whispered, looking up at him with wide eyes. He gave a serious nod.

“Yeah, it was new. I had been in daycare before, but the daycare and Pre-K were different places. It felt scary to go somewhere I’d never been before, with people I hadn’t met before.” Well, that hadn’t been the only reason he’d been scared, but that would just make Eri upset. So he was going to skip over that.

“But you don’t need to be nervous, Eri-chan,” his mother warmly added. “You already know your teacher, and not a lot of your classmates can say that. I’m sure Yukina-sensei will be really happy to see you again.”

“Inko-kaasan is right. And you even have a new story to share once you get there!” Nooroo chipped in, floating up with his slice of banana in hand. “And you know that Yukina-sensei loves it when you share new stories with her.”

Big red eyes looked up at them, a shy smile appearing as Eri let out a little hum as she took another bite of her food.

Breakfast was wrapped up, and everyone getting ready for their respective days. Everything accounted for through the combined eyes of Inko, Izuku, and Nooroo until they were all ready to head out. Eri’s Pre-K was on the way to Izuku’s school, just before the train station he had to take. It was a good thing his mom was able to work remotely, since that gave her time to bring Eri to school and pick her up when it let out.

(They sent a gift basket to his mom’s boss at the insurance company as thanks for the arrangement. Kido-san was very understanding of the situation with Eri. She only asked that his mom come in once a week for check-in meetings with her co-workers.)

But it was important for both of them to travel with Eri to make sure she got there safely. For her sake and for their own peace of mind.

The school was brand new to the area; a combination Day Care, Pre-K, and Kindergarten for children with dangerous or difficult to control quirks. The teachers and their aids had been carefully screened before they were hired, both to ensure they could help the kids and to ensure that their quirks wouldn’t accidentally make any situations worse for the kids.

This would actually be the first year for the whole school, but Izuku had full confidence it would do wonderfully. Yukina-sensei worked too hard to help start it for any other result.

(No one but Nooroo and he would know how many teachers they had vetted behind the screens and pointed toward the new school. But he wouldn’t be surprised if there was a hidden brick in the building with his vigilante name engraved on it. The principal had hinted that there would be credit given for their help, but he had no plans of specifically looking for it.) 

Izuku was so happy that Eri finally felt safe about the idea of going to school. She had been so scared for so long, it made him want to cry in relief that she felt like she could make friends and be around others without anyone being hurt.

It had been painful, the fear she felt when she'd first been brought home.

His first Kamiko had been a risk, a dangerous one. But no hero would have been able to save Eri alone. They would have only been able to save her from the criminals who'd had her, but they wouldn't have been equipped to take care of her after that.

They would have had to hand her over to someone else. To the CPS, who would have relocated her to an orphanage or put her into the foster care system. And if she had been put into the system after being put through the things she had… She would have been hurt more if in a different way. He was sure of it.

He simply couldn't trust the system to help her. He couldn't trust them to understand what she needed to feel safe.

It would have been too easy for her to be lost. For someone just as cruel as her previous “foster father” to get their hands on her. For someone to use and abuse her quirk once she was in their care. It would have been too easy for her to be hurt again by someone cruel or careless.

She was safer with them, even if they weren't “perfect”.

But they had made it work. Nooroo had been the ideal helper, being too old and powerful for Eri's quirk to hurt him. Izuku being hyper-aware of Eri's feelings and being able to help before they became too much. His mother being kind and patient with all of them, easing Eri's fears before they could get out of hand.

And Yukina-sensei. Who'd helped ease Eri into the idea of going to school and meeting other children. Who had a quirk that was just right for helping prevent children from losing control of their quirks and panicking.

Between the four of them, they had helped ease the worst of Eri's fear and let her feel safe.

(He really needed to get Yukina-sensei a gift basket for how she’d helped with that. Besides, the new school could use some “housewarming” gifts for all the hard work the teachers had already put into it. Maybe his mom would have ideas of what they could put into it.)

The small building had several families outside the gate, children getting goodbye hugs from their siblings and parents. There were a few scared kids crying and clinging to whichever parent was closest, others hiding behind their legs and watching the other kids nervously.

He didn’t remember his first day being this noisy, but that had been a while ago, so he couldn't say for sure.

He thought he might have cried which, for a Midoriya, wasn’t exactly unexpected. It had been the year after the doctor's had declared him quirkless, so none of the kids have been very nice to him.

Had his dad been there on his first day? Or had he already left by then? He couldn’t quite remember anymore. He knew his mom had been there at least, he'd been too little to try and go to school by himself…

Oh well, it didn’t matter. Not anymore.

What mattered was the way Eri clung to his mom as she peeked at the other children from where she hid her face in the crook of her neck. His mom murmured soothing things into Eri’s ear as they approached the building, Izuku taking point and opening the door so that his mom didn't have to.

Izuku helped them check in so his mother could focus on cheering up his little sister, figuring out where Eri’s classroom was, and greeting her teacher. Yukina-sensei greeted them warmly when they stepped into the little classroom, happily addressing the Midoriya family by name before greeting the next family that arrived.

“Are you ready, Eri-chan?” Inko asked. Eri peeked up at her mom, nodding slowly and letting go so that she could be set on her own feet.“Don’t worry, I’ll pick you up as soon as school lets out. We can get groceries for dinner after that. We can even get everything to make Ringo Pan for dessert.”

Izuku let out a laugh at the way Eri’s face lit up. He crouched down and opened his arms for a hug. Eri darted in and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I’ll be picking something up after school lets out, so I won’t be home until after you and Mom finish shopping. But I’ll spend all day waiting to hear about yours,” he said softly, giving her a little squeeze.

Nooroo peeked out of his bag, being careful to stay hidden from the other families in the room.

“Have a wonderful day, Eri-chan. I can’t wait for the stories you’ll share when you come home,” Nooroo kept his voice soft to ensure no one but them would hear him. “I look forward to hearing about all the new friends you’ll make.”

“Bye-bye, Mama. Bye-bye, Niichan,” Eri said. Then, in a whisper, she added, “Bye-bye, Nooroo. I’ll bring home lots of new pictures for you.”

 The kwami smiled, nodding before he ducked back into Izuku’s backpack. Eri smiled shyly again, then slowly made her way to the little shelf of books in the room. Izuku knew she was still a little too shy to go right over to the other kids, but he was sure she would be okay.

He and his mom waved goodbye before finally heading out to make their own way. He could feel the worry from his mom. He was worried too.

He didn’t want Eri to be hurt the same way he was at that age. Kids could be a lot meaner than people thought they could be. They may not have a full understanding of the words they used, but it was easier for a child to carry hurt than an adult. But he knew she would be safer than he had been back then. (She, at least, had a quirk.)

Yukina-sensei wouldn’t let anyone try to hurt her for her quirk.

“Eri-chan will be okay. Yukina-sensei will make sure of it,” Nooroo said, muffled slightly by Izuku’s bag. “She has everything she needs to take care of the class. And there are only ten students in it. Everything will be okay.”

Nooroo’s words helped, just a bit.

The class was small, so there was no chance of Eri getting lost in the shuffle or accidentally skimmed over. And with so few students, any kid trying to be mean was sure to be noticed by the teacher. Yukina-sensei’s quirk, Calm Mind, would help if anything did happen. They picked the school for just that reason.

(Calm Mind; A semi-passive, area-of-effect quirk. Very useful for helping calm people during moments of stress, be it anger, fear, or extreme sadness. Generally, it made it harder for those emotions to take effect and could be momentarily strengthened for roughly fifteen minutes at a time. It had a roughly 6-meter range, centered on Yukina-sensei herself.) 

Inko let out a breath as they stepped onto the main street.

“We know, but it’s hard not to worry.” She stopped and turned to Izuku, pulling him into a hug. “You have a good first day, too. And try to stay safe.”

“I’ll do my best, Mom,” he said, hugging her back tightly. “I’ll send a text once I get out of school and after I pick up the books we ordered.”

The two parted ways, Inko heading home while Izuku started jogging lightly to get to the train station.

Which was under attack by a villain. Because of course it was.

(Animal transformation mixed with size-changing. Something in the head-shape was reminiscent of a shark, so he probably had a sensory ability similar to them.)

At least it was wrapping up, so he wouldn’t end up late for school. Kamui Woods’ agency was on the scene, and they were fairly efficient in post-battle cleanup. Even if Kamui himself was a tad melodramatic while working. (From what Izuku and Nooroo had gathered, at least.)

He also got to see the debut of a new heroine. That was always a good way to start the day!

Mt Lady had been the one to bring the villain down, cutting off Kamui’s attack before he could make contact. He supposed being able to get the drop on the villain had been what gave her the edge, along with the fact that she could increase her size further than they could. He’d need to make a proper profile for her later in his analysis books. She was clearly a Limelight Hero, so it wouldn’t take long for him to get plenty of information on her.

She seemed very focused on the crowd, though. Possibly more than the villain she’d just helped apprehend.

Public approval was important, especially for new heroes who were trying to drum up potential connections. For interest from possible sponsors and product placement roles. Jobs and connections like that often helped Limelight Heroes stay in the limelight. Considering Mt Lady's quirk and the potential property destruction that came with it, getting attention to help pay for her agency's insurance would be an important part of maintaining her place as a Pro-Hero.

(Hm… Her costume may need some work, though; it looked like the sizing was a bit off. It bunched up too much at the joints while somehow being too tight over her bust and hips. He could see her butt far more easily than he should have. There was no way that was comfortable for her.)

At one time, Izuku wouldn't have minded getting attention like that for helping people. For making them feel safe and like everyone would be okay while he was there.

Now, however, news slots and meet & greets didn't have the appeal it used to. It was better that no one knew who he was or what he looked like. Izuku and his skills were better put to use in the background, where everyday people rarely thought to look.

After all, the worst villains stayed hidden in the shadows. So he was better off there, too, to help fight them back.

“Izu-bochan, don't forget about your train!”

“Ah! Right!”

Chapter Text

Izuku had a schedule that he lived by for most of the year.

His day started with a family breakfast, then his mother, Nooroo, and he would walk Eri to her PreK.

Then he and Nooroo would separate from his mother and head for the station, taking the 7 am train to school. It was an hour ahead of when school actually started, but it helped him budget time in case of villain attacks.

He'd spend the time before class actually started in the school's library, double-checking his homework (fresh eyes and all that) and reading the morning news on his phone. Once the first bell rang, he'd relocate to his classroom and set about unpacking his supplies for his morning classes.

(He wasn't sharing a class with Katsuki this year. His mom had arranged it, after Nooroo had mentioned to her that the blonde was “rather fixated on a fierce but one-sided rivalry” with Izuku. The kwami was of the opinion that they needed space from each other to focus on their schoolwork for the sake of their respective grades. Izuku appreciated it, since he could finally get through his school day without worrying about his things being wrecked by his former friend.)

The class would break for lunch, but Izuku would eat in the classroom, sharing whispered conversations with Nooroo, who had been hiding in his bag and playing games on Izuku's phone. (Nooroo enjoyed hidden object games and had found one he adored playing during the school day.) Nooroo would give back the phone so that Izuku could either have a turn playing the game or check if there were any emergency broadcasts that they needed to be aware of.

He'd also jot down basic notes about new Limelight hero cases or any criminals that were mentioned in the news that had managed to escape or were still unknown. No in-depth analyses, just basic notes to refer to later.

Then there would be the afternoon classes before he'd leave school for the day. Izuku would head out and go back home, either taking Eri to the local park after changing out of his school uniform or just going out to help around the neighborhood. Sometimes, making notes about things people had noticed or just listening as they bent his ear about something that was bothering them.

Or he would go to Sango-sensei's classes that day. Eri was too little to participate, so she would stay home with his mother.

(That, or his mother would come to class while he spent time with Eri. No matter what, Eri wasn't left by herself.)

No matter which it was that day, Izuku made sure to be home in time for dinner. After which he'd do his homework with something playing on the TV. All of them took turns deciding what it would be, so no one felt like they were giving something up. Izuku would research whatever thought caught his fancy at that time as well.

Old folktales, hero cases from the past, and ideas for magic he could try. Anything that struck him. He’d make notes and scratch out ideas for them, not just for his hero work but also just to mess around with his magic.

Then the sun would set. And Sasakia's night would start.

He would slip out into the night, disguised just enough for people in the area to not realise who it was they saw, settling into one of his many hideaways and tapping into the power of the butterfly miraculous.

From there, he would either train his skills with the cane-sword he was granted or do some general training (just in case he decided to appear in person). Or a patrol of butterflies would take to the skies, seeking out people in distress or checking in on people he'd connected with before.

It was during one of those nights he found something.

Nooroo had looked up at him from the dim light of the moon after Izuku had slipped into his preferred hiding place for his work as Sasakia.

“Are we ready to get started for the night, Izu-bochan?”

Izuku grinned at his friend.

“Yeah, I think now is as good a time as any.” Nooroo swooped over, hovering so that they were at eye-level with each other. “Nooroo, Light Wings Rise.”

Izuku felt the kwami's power wash over him, warm and comfortable and familiar.

He didn't know how Nooroo’s power felt to the previous wielders, but to Izuku, it felt safe. Like he was, somehow, being wrapped in a warm spring breeze. The sort that he remembered feeling on warm days that he'd spent during hanami picnics with his mother, sitting on a blanket with a basket between them and watching the petals flutter through the air around them.

Warmth, comfort, and safety; those were the feelings he associated with using the power of Nooroo's miraculous.

(Sometimes, he wondered if Nooroo's previous wielders felt the same way. If that had been how Nooroo felt to them. It was sad, he thought, if they had hurt his friend despite those feelings.)

Izuku let out a breath, the familiar sensation of his magically lengthened hair tickling the back of his neck. The faint spring breeze tugged at his capelet, the weight having become a comfort over the past two years.

His senses sharpened, the range that he could sense becoming sharper in response to the power flowing over and through him.

He didn't even need to think, muscle memory making him start conjuring butterflies to use.

He could make plenty of his simple, golden butterflies. He could conjure entire swarms of them, even! But he could only make a limited number of butterflies capable of communicating with others, a minimum of Kamiko to speak with, before it became too much for him to handle. And, even then, Izuku just couldn't maintain that many mental links at once.

Multitasking was far from easy, and holding more than one conversation at once was a headache at best. Too easy to stumble over his own words or accidentally address the wrong person.

So he was forced to limit himself, for coherence and consistency.

(And to prevent migraines. Because he always ended up with one when he pushed himself like that.)

It was easier to send his butterflies to where he was sensing emotions and have them passively gather intel so he could handle conversing with the people they landed on one at a time.

With a smooth swing upward, Izuku sent his conjured butterflies into the sky. He watched as the five butterflies, laced with just enough magic to find their way to strong emotions, swooped out over the city. All of them trailing after specific feelings he had in mind.

Fear, panic, and anger. They were the… Loudest emotions, he supposed. The easiest to feel and, as such, the easiest to find. He made them his “starting” emotions when he tapped into Nooroo's powers for that very reason.

He closed his eyes, focusing on just what he could sense through his mental radar.

There.

Panic, meshed with grief and an undercurrent of horror.

One butterfly zeroed in on the source, following it to the person at its center until the connection could be made.

The magic of the butterfly kicked in, filtering the immediate knowledge of the person into his mind.

Unohana Sakura, a third-shift nurse at the general hospital. Went to the morgue to mourn because her childhood friend finally lost their battle against a chronic heart condition the previous day, which she'd had off. She had wanted privacy to say goodbye, but none of her coworkers tried to stop her from going down. The body was gone.

Izuku blinked slowly at that, something sick curling in his stomach. (Unohana-san's fear was bleeding through to him.)

Why was the body gone? Where is she? Why isn't she here? She's supposed to be here!

Izuku shuddered, forcing himself to take a calming breath before the panic-that-wasn't-his became too much.

“Unohana-san, you need to breathe. Can you try to breathe for me?” Izuku kept his magic-laced voice gentle as he spoke through the connection. Getting information could wait; Unohana-san needed his help first. “Deep breath in, hold for four seconds. Let it out over five. You can do it, I know you can.”

He kept going, repeating the soothing mantra until Unohana-san was finally able to think again.

“Who-who are…?”

“You may call me Sasakia, Unohana-san. I'm here to help. What's happened? And what can I do to help you make it right?”

“Kana-chan… Kana-chan was supposed to be here. Her family hadn't been able to collect her remains yet; they're still in Kyushu. I- I just wanted to say goodbye.” He could feel the shuddering breath from her. “She's gone. She's supposed to be here, but she's GONE.”

Izuku shut his eyes in thought, rubbing a thumb over the head of his cane. A missing body, the family was in a different prefecture and couldn't have gotten back yet. Did someone else pick up the body? Perhaps a family friend?

“Alright. Is it possible to check if they may have asked someone else to pick her up? The computers would have a record if anyone had. Why don't you check?” He kept his voice kind and gentle, trying to offset her fears with a steady tone. Unohana-san had verbally asked if the body had been picked up, but it was possible that the digital records had information that the person didn't. 

“Anzu-chan usually has a very good memory, but…”

He watched through Unohana-san's eyes as she staggered to her feet, hurrying to the computer tucked away in the corner. She was a nurse and, shaken though she was, her codes were almost instinctive. She navigated the files with the ease of breathing, going through records quickly to try and find what they needed to see.

There was no pickup record.

Izuku's analysis skills kicked in, mentally combing over the information he had.

The body was gone. There was no pickup record. No one had known if or where it might have been moved to. The body was gone, and no one at the hospital had known it was gone.

Someone must have taken the body. Bodies didn't get up and move on their own, after all. Someone had to have moved it. But who? And how? If the staff didn't know, then it had to have been done in secret. They would have had to sneak in to acquire it without the people in the hospital knowing, then.

The body must have been stolen. Someone stole a recently deceased body from the hospital. But why?

“Unohana-san, what can you tell me about Kana-san? Anything you can think of about her.” He could think of a few reasons someone might steal a body, but not one right out of the hospital. There would be too much attention if they took it then. So there had to be something about Kana-san that would make them take the risk.

“Uhm… Kana-chan had a heart condition. It kept her from being very athletic or using her quirk most of the time. She'd wanted to be a boxer, but her heart started to seriously act up after we turned fifteen, which meant she could never follow through with it. She spent a lot of time in the hospital because of it, it was really disappointing for her.”

There was a note of something there. Some tang of relief mixed with bitterness. Unohana-san had an opinion on that, whatever it was, but it was something she'd probably never wanted to voice. Even to herself.

Izuku made a mental note of it, he may need to circle back to that for answers.

“What was her quirk?” It likely had something to do with her goals, and potentially left something about her remains that would be tempting to a criminal.

“It was a form of shock absorption. She could take all kinds of hits, so she thought she could handle it since most boxing leagues focused on strength. She wanted to win on skill instead of raw power. But when her heart started having trouble, she had to give it up. No form of fighting was safe for her.”  Ah, there was that bitter relief again. He could guess what it was about now.

Unohana-san had likely been relieved that her friend couldn’t put herself at risk for a sport, but bitter that it was because of something already endangering her friend's health. That made sense.

But what an interesting quirk!

He'd have to make notes about it when he got the chance. Shock Absorption was a rare type of quirk, despite its simplicity. Being able to withstand and absorb physical blows was important in numerous sports, and something that both heroes and villains would love to have as a side facet to their quirks. Even if they couldn’t hit back harder than they’d been hit in the first place.

Such a trait would have likely stayed part of Kana-san's remains. Like her organs. (No matter what age, illegal trades never fully faded. Horrific as they were.)

Oh boy. How to approach this…

Carefully.  He decided.

“Unohana-san. You need to report this to someone. For the sake of records, if nothing else. I can raise an alert with the heroes for you, but there needs to be a record for them to find.” His voice was calm as he spoke. He needed his voice to be calm and his words agreeable. He couldn’t force Unohana-san to do anything, but there was only so much he could do on his end of things. “Please be careful, though. There may be someone watching for when it gets reported.”

Unohana-san’s breath hitched.

“You- You’re right…” Then something he wasn’t privy to seemed to click, and there was a sudden, new flare of horror and- anger? From Unohana-san. “Wait… I was so focused on- What if Kana-chan wasn’t-”

Suddenly, Unohana-san was a whirlwind of motion. Surging through the hospital morgue, she started wrenching open cabinets and counting, muttering almost too fast for Izuku to keep pace. Almost.

Kana-san wasn’t the only person in the hospital morgue. She had to check. She had to know.

His heart sank as her furious search and sudden combing through the archives revealed something he hadn't considered. Kana-san wasn't the only one taken overnight.

There were others.

The number was small, but there were enough.

Enough for this not to be an isolated incident. Enough that there was a record. Enough that Unohana-san, and he by extension, could find a barely-there pattern.

People who did not have living relatives. People who'd lived a life of poverty and had no one to come to. People with records that meant no one would care enough to come. Spaced out over months, almost out to a full two years, so no one would notice unless they were looking for something wrong.

Kana-san had been a break from the pattern. Because Unohana-san had been there to see her the next day. Because she had family who should have picked her up. Because, despite her chronic heart issues, she was personable. She was someone who would be missed.

Whomever took her had taken a risk, and now there was someone who’d noticed.

It was something they could point out. There was evidence, small and hard to find though it was, that they could present.

“Where do you want me to send your copies?”

“Sorry?” He jolted slightly, his connection flickering for a split second.

“You’re… You’re investigating this case now, right? That means you need to get a copy of the records for your case file. It’s procedure.”

“I- I apologize, Unohana-san, but I am afraid there is a misunderstanding. I am not a licensed hero. I’m an informant, a tipster. No more than that.” 

There was a moment of silence, flickers of shock filtering over the connection as what he’d said sank in.

He would need to cut it soon. If his mental calculations were correct, one of his butterflies was approaching the route of an underground hero. And they would arrive at that point in their route very soon. He needed to update them on a case he’d already been helping gather information on. Then he would give the tip and direct them to the hospital and to Unohana-san.

"Okay. Okay. Where is a good drop-off point, then?”

What? He couldn’t have heard that right. Surely Unohana-san wasn’t being…?

“You’re helping with the case. You need a copy of the files to match with anything else you pick up. Even informants need to have their own notes for the things they’re helping with.” He could sense the determination in her. There was nothing he could say to change her decision, he could tell.

He took a deep breath, hands clenching and unclenching around the head of his cane. The only notes he’d had before were the ones he’d written by hand. No one had ever felt the need to give him actual printouts before…

He could think of a place that could work as a drop-off that would keep them both hidden. No one would look twice at a woman leaving something there or a teenager scrounging around later.

“Do you know where Takoba Beach is? There’s a gazebo at the end of the pier…”

Quietly, Izuku gave Unohana-san directions to the trash-strewn beach, telling her to pack the files in something water-tight to avoid anything damaging them before he could pick them up. Unohana stated that she had an orange spare plastic folder that snapped shut that she would drop it off in. She insisted that she had plenty like it and he could keep it for his own uses.

He finally let the magic sustaining the butterfly dissipate, ending his connection with the nurse and erasing the evidence that he’d ever spoken to her outside of the memories left behind.

He felt a ping from one of his other butterflies.

It felt like someone had actually grabbed that one. That didn’t happen very often, but it wasn’t wholly unexpected. There were enough people aware of him to know that catching a butterfly would let them speak to him. Even with how careful he was to keep the general public from knowing about him.

Izuku had learned that, when a person became an informant, they ended up building a network even when they weren’t really trying to. There were more minor villains and vigilantes than one would think, who were more than happy to feed information to someone like him to present to police and heroes. Especially since, by sending the information through him, the link wouldn’t be traced back to them.

His network wasn’t huge, but there were Enough people in it.

Enough to know what some big names in the underground were. Enough to have areas that he kept an eye on. Enough to be trouble if anyone ever got a face to match the mysterious Sasakia.

(And… It seemed like he was getting a nurse added to it? Was that what just happened? Or was this going to be a one-time thing? He’d have to wait and see.)

He checked his mental radar and compared it to his mental map. And suppressed a wince.

That was Farona, one of the areas of the city with the highest criminal and villain densities. He had a contact there, but it was one he… Found it rather tiring.

He checked the time. It would be a while longer until the underground heroes who used that route would finally arrive. He got the butterfly to land on a rooftop with a thought, trusting the light it gave off to draw the eyes of the heroes once they reached it.

He connected to the butterfly in Farona and suppressed a sigh when his gut feeling was confirmed.

Waniguchi Kira. Irritated about chasing a butterfly over several rooftops. Sore from a brawl the previous night. Waiting for a fight to get his anger out, but putting it aside to report something. He’s nervous about it.

Well, that was slightly different from usual.

Wanaguchi was a moderately reliable contact for him. He was loud and brash, and preferred to solve his problems with his fists and claws rather than with his words. His quirk made him have the appearance of an Alligator and human hybrid, and, as such, made him very physically intimidating. Which, in turn, made it easy for people to assume the worst of him. He was often involved in street brawls and bar fights because of it.

He wasn’t… Bad, per se. But he was a handful, even on a good day. He had a problem with authority of any kind and was quick to pick fights and lose his temper with anyone he thought was disrespecting him. Like police. Or heroes. Or the bartender of one specific bar in the area…

He had a lot of assaults and resisting arrests on his record. He wasn’t a career criminal, but he frequently got himself into trouble.

But.

He had a soft spot for kids and hated seeing adults who took their anger out on them. He was only too happy to rat out people like that to Izuku, or do a little breaking and entering to get evidence for him. And he was a little bit of a gossip when he felt like he was talking to someone who would actually listen to what he had to say.

And, as Sasakia, Izuku was very happy to listen. Even if he was usually worn out by the time he finished talking to him. Waniguchi was far more of an Extrovert than he was.

“Good evening, Waniguchi-san.”

“About time. Catching your damn butterflies is a pain, Sasakia. Meeting up in person would be easier…” The man grumbled.

Despite his constant complaints about the butterflies, he also understood why Izuku went to such lengths to keep his anonymity.

If a face got out, no matter how much was covered, it would give someone the opportunity to come after him. Either in revenge for a case he’d helped with or to get whatever information they wanted from him. So his complaints were just for show, a minor way to vent and get both of them talking.

(Not quite an ice breaker but fairly close.)

"If you were willing to put in such an effort, then surely it must be important. You are never one to waste time on something that doesn’t matter.” It was said leadingly, letting his contact have the chance to start the conversation and get his thoughts in order. He didn’t want to miss the heroes or risk upsetting Waniguchi if Izuku tried to cut their conversation short, so it was better to get into things sooner rather than later.

"Honestly, I’m not too sure what it is really. At this point, it’s small, as far as I can tell. But it sent up enough flags that I thought you’d want to know about it.” He could sense caution, a touch of nerves, and uncertainty that he wasn’t used to from him. Something that made Izuku straighten up instinctively.

"What have you heard?” He asked.

"There’s a recruiter going around, trying to get folks to join some kind of 'League' they’re part of. They’re talking about shaking things up, but… There’s a lot about sowing fear and chaos into the world. Challenging heroes and showing what real strength is and so on.” Waniguchi grunted out. He felt the discomfort from the man, seeing the city lights through a higher vantage point than Izuku could ever hope to grow to. "I like a good brawl as much as any other fight junkie, don’t get me wrong, there’s just something… Off about this lot. They’re making my scales stand up.”

Waniguchi huffed, his eyes narrowing at the skyline.

"I wanted to put them on your radar. Some of the guys, the nastier ones in the area, seem to like what they’re selling. And they’re talking about laying the grounds for something Big they’ve got in the works, but they’re keeping mum on what it is for anyone who’s not with them. That’s the most that I’ve got right now, I plan to keep my ear to the ground for more though.”

Izuku frowned in thought.

Waniguchi wasn’t one to go through the effort of catching one of his butterflies unless he felt like he had something. And he had sharper instincts than he gave himself credit for. If these people were setting off flags for him, then they were something to keep an eye on.

"Please do. But keep yourself safe. If your gut says something is wrong, listen to it.” Izuku said, voice firm as he tapped the end of his cane on the ground. He knew Waniguchi couldn’t hear it, but it settled his own nerves. " If it seems like they’re keeping too close an eye on you, though, bail. I never want you to take the heat just to keep me informed.”

The reptile-man chuckled, something warmer in both his tone and emotions. Fondness, a little flattered, a tang of protectiveness.

"You got it. I don’t plan on getting caught yet. Sooner hand myself over to the heroes than let a bunch of schmuckes like that get me.” Waniguchi released the butterfly, severing his end of the connection. Izuku let the magic fade, causing the butterfly to disappear.

So there was a new faction of criminals trying to recruit. (Criminals, for now. He wouldn’t switch them to “villains” until he had more to go on.) That was something to put a pin on.

He hoped Waniguchi would actually be careful while keeping watch for him. The man was headstrong; it would be risky if he underestimated them or what they could do. But all Izuku could do was warn him and try to send butterflies to that area of the city more often.

Another ping on his mental radar, and Izuku knew it was time. He connected to the waiting butterfly with a thought.

Eraserhead, Aizawa Shouta. Tired from a long shift the night before. Still mildly frustrated from bratty students who didn’t listen to what he was telling them. Slightly wary due to Nedzu’s plotting, but not sure what it's about. Covering for another Underground dealing with a broken leg. Curious about the hidden informant connected to the glowing butterflies.

Izuku barely held back his reaction at the information filtering through his mind.

Eraserhead. One of the more elusive Underground Heroes based in Musutafu, despite supposedly working at UA. (Which he may have just confirmed?? Oh, now he wanted to attend even more!) Izuku could admit, to himself at least, that he rather admired the reputation the pro-hero had built for himself in the underground. He'd never had the opportunity to connect with the hero before, having only heard of him from other underground heroes' comments.

He was strict, no-nonsense, and very punctual. He made sure as few civilians as possible ended up tangled in his fights and ensured he was dealing with actual villains and not panicked civilians who'd lost control of their quirks. He could stop a person's quirk from working, but the how was heavily debated.

And he had been the one to touch the waiting butterfly.

No fanboying, Izuku mentally ordered himself, fidgeting in place. Focus on the crimes you've discovered. He needs to know about them.

"Good evening, Eraserhead-sama.” He kept his voice formal, silently praying that he sounded calmer and less giddy than he felt.

He could sense the hero's surprise, seeing the way the hero's eyes narrowed at the innocently glowing butterfly resting on his fingers. (The man was wearing yellow goggles, with some kind of grate over them instead of lenses. An interesting choice, though he supposed he couldn't point fingers.)

"Hm… So you're the ‘Sasakia’ I've been hearing about.” Izuku stomped down on the thrill that went through him at that.

It was obvious, after being active for roughly two years now, that his name would have been spread amongst the underground heroes in Musutafu. Of course, the underground hero would be aware of him and his butterflies. Informants were important to keep track of, and his method meant people had to keep an eye out for them whenever they saw them. He didn’t exactly have contact info that he’d handed out.

Eraserhead had likely been warned beforehand that touching a glowing butterfly would connect them telepathically. He’d been aware that something would happen, at the very least, when he picked up the butterfly.

"Yes, I am. I've heard of you as well, Eraserhead-sama, and your dislike of long-winded conversations. So I'll get straight to the point, I have a possible lead on a major case.” He could sense the way Eraserhead's focus narrowed. He had the hero's attention.

First, the case he already had information on. As did the heroes and police, once they finally knew where they needed to look for it.

"The Damasu group is the one that was organizing the robberies in the financial district. Based on the rumors and the patterns they’ve used previously, they’re likely planning to hit the Haito bank sometime in the next week. Check their previous arrest records and you’ll be able to confirm the pattern and find the member whose quirk has most likely let them succeed thus far.”

Izuku had a good guess which member it was based on the records he’d found that had been released to the public during past arrests. They had one member whose quirk made it difficult for people to recognize when they were lying, not unless the person objectively knew what they were being told wasn’t true. But he couldn’t say for certain with the access he had or the word-of-mouth he got from his contacts if he had the right person.

It would take evidence that the police already had to seal the deal.

"How certain are you that you have the right group?” The hero asked. As he well should, since this was their first time speaking and he had no real reason to trust Izuku’s word. Yet, at least.

"Roughly eighty-five to ninety percent. The previously recorded members of Damasu, the ones released from prison in the past year, have been leaving a money trail. They’re spending and flaunting wealth that their post-release jobs couldn’t allow them to make. Either they're taking part in undertable exchanges, or they’re the robbers that the police have been hunting for. Either way, there needs to be eyes on them.”

He knew that from the way the people around them had been gossiping. Jealous and suspicious neighbors and friends, worried family, and angry crooks they knew but hadn’t recruited. But none of them had solid evidence or a good enough rapport with the police to report them. Which was where Izuku came in.

Eraserhead hummed in thought, closing his eyes and cutting off the visual feed Izuku was getting from him.

His eyes opened again to a phone in the hero’s ungloved hand, rapidly tapping out a one-handed message to someone in his contacts labeled “Naomasa”. Izuku had his butterfly climb to the back of the hero’s wrist, freeing up his other hand for typing.

There was a brief feeling of appreciation before the hero switched to using both hands. Sending his message, which received a response from the other person about checking the files for exactly what Izuku had told them to look at.

"What else? Flashstep stated that you usually have information on more than one case if the butterflies are sitting in one place. Or that something time-sensitive had happened.”

"That is true. This one is a tad strange, but something that needs to be seen too quickly. Earlier tonight, a nurse at the Ijustu Hospital discovered a body missing from their morgue. It wasn’t collected by the next of kin or by a personal associate. It’s simply vanished.”

Bafflement, confusion, a few layers of shock. Eraserhead didn’t know why a hero would be alerted about this, if he had to guess. But something told Izuku that they needed this information released to heroes, not just the police.

"It’s one of a string of body snatching that’s struck the hospital, but the first that’s been caught by a hospital nurse. Records found that several bodies have vanished from the morgue; they were never collected or given proper burials. They’re just gone. The most recent vanished overnight. The nurse who discovered it had a personal connection to the deceased and had gone to mourn, but discovered an empty locker instead.”

He remembered the horror and grief from Unohana-san, the sparks of determination in her chest once she started searching the computer archives. The possibility that someone had stolen a body to use it for parts, to sell in pieces against the wishes and grief of the family… There was anger, burning low but hot in his chest about that.

He was angry for them. For Unohana-san. For Kana-san’s family. For Kana-san herself.

He wanted to get justice for them, for Kana-san. He wanted to help them. And this was the only way he could do that.

"No one had been aware that the body was gone, nor was there any security record of an unauthorized person entering the morgue. The only way that could have happened would be if a quirk had been used, either to meddle with the security and staff or to enter the morgue without being detected.”

It was the only explanation he could think of that didn’t rely on magic. Nooroo had mentioned that there was magic capable of such things, but using a body for ingredients was severely frowned upon in the modern era. (At least, by the standards that the kwami had last been privy to.) Even in the ancient past, body snatching was met with extreme violence. No one messed with that unless they thought the reward was worth potentially being beaten to death by an angry mob.

The hero’s eyes narrowed, a deathly serious veil falling over his emotions.

He started typing to “Naomasa” again, relaying the information he’d been given.

Izuku knew that would take a moment longer to confirm, since he wasn’t sure if Unohana-san had the chance to make the call yet or if she’d decided to scour the hospital records more thoroughly for evidence before making the report.

"I’m afraid those are the only cases I have with something concrete for you, Eraserhead-sama.”

"And the rest?”  Eraserhead asked, to Izuku’s surprise. " You have more than just two cases you’re looking into.”

Eraserhead wasn’t wrong, he was looking at multiple cases at the moment. But those two were the most important in his mind. The ones where there was readily available evidence to be compared against his information. He had a few things, but they were more rumors than proper cases at the moment. Things that even he wasn’t sure of the validity of.

He tapped the head of his cane against his chin, digging through his memory for something that had at least some substance that he could relay. He didn’t like handing over things that were purely rumor, he felt better if there was something credible that could be found to connect to it.

But Eraserhead wanted more than just the two cases Izuku had already provided. Possibly to test him with.

Underground heroes were a cautious lot, as he had learned. They were more paranoid than limelight heroes, due to the risks their quirks had if too many people learned about them. The lack of knowledge about them was both a shield and a sword to them. So any informant that appeared ended up being tested to prove that they could be trusted on some level.

And no Underground Hero trusted another’s informant on pure goodwill. They always got their information tested for validity’s sake. Izuku had learned not to let it bother him.

After a moment's hesitation, he spoke.

"... There may be an illegal quirk fighting ring somewhere in the Vespera storage docks. Nothing I can solidly confirm other than whispers and rumors in certain circles. A few crooks here and there muttering about heading to that area. Some comments about bets and lost money, but it’s being kept under wraps. If it’s even real in the first place and not slang for something else that’s going on.”

Then there was another case he had. It was less criminal and more unregulated neighborhood watch, but it had a chance of getting bigger later.

"There’s a new vigilante running around the residential district, possibly. It seems like they’ve stopped a few attempted home invasions; they might have either a detection or shielding quirk. They would need one to be as efficient as they’ve seemed to presented themselves. Again, nothing for sure. I can’t even confirm if it’s a single person or several different people who’d been involved.”

Izuku paused for a moment. There was also Waniguchi’s tip, but he had so little on that… Just an incomplete name and a hunch that something was up. Except, like his contact, something in his gut was telling him that something was wrong with that situation.

He decided to take the chance and mention it anyway.

Worst comes to worst, he was priming them for something that would never actually be an issue, yet could potentially help them catch someone else down the line.

"There’s a possible new criminal group recruiting in the Farona district. I don’t have any names of possible members, or even a real idea if they’ve got a solid goal of any kind. Just that some kind of “League” is recruiting from the criminals in that area.” He let out a small breath, rubbing at his forehead. He was feeling tired; the strain from holding three conversations thus far in the night was starting to get to him. "That’s all the possible tips I have at the moment.”

There were probably more, if he was being honest with himself, but those felt the most comfortable telling the hero he’d connected to about. It was as much as he had to offer that could be checked.

And, if the glimpse of the clock on the hero’s phone was right, it was getting incredibly late. He needed to end his night and get to bed soon if he wanted to avoid being a complete zombie at school tomorrow. He wanted as few people watching him in his daily life as he could manage. Which meant having to hard-line himself some night to ensure he took care of himself.

He could sense the thoughtfulness from the hero. Most likely mentally going over what Izuku had given him.

Izuku gave the hero a few moments to think before speaking up once more.

"I’m afraid I have to end for the night, Eraserhead-sama. There are a few things I need to check in on, but I needed to relay the Damasu and Ijutsu cases as quickly as possible.” Which was why the butterfly was waiting for someone went unsaid. He was sure the hero would understand. "If fortune’s favor, it will be a peaceful night for you.”

The hero remained silent, but he could sense the calm in him. It didn’t seem like he was waiting for a proper farewell, so Izuku cut his connection to the butterfly.

He closed the magic to his last two butterflies as well. They weren’t pinging on anything more than the usual barfights and sleep-deprived angry customers that wandered the night. Which meant it was better to conserve his magic and get to bed.

“Light Wings Fall.”

Nooroo’s power fell away in a flutter of lights, leaving Izuku standing in ordinary clothes as the kwami reformed as himself in the air.

“Izu-bochan?” The kwami asked, his voice soft and gentle. “Are you alright?”

It was a tradition (of sorts) that after every time he used the butterfly miraculous powers, Nooroo would ask him about how he felt. Izuku was good at dealing with the emotions of others and recognising when he was feeling emotions that weren’t his own. Except, sometimes he needed to reground himself. To take a moment to go through his feelings and put them into words.

Making sure that the feelings were his and not remnants of other people’s emotions still affecting him. Very important when wearing a magical brooch that allows the wearer to sense the emotions of numerous people around them.

And tonight, Nooroo had asked a very good question. Was he alright?

He found out that someone had lost a precious person. That a family was missing closure. There may be a person whose last wishes were being discarded by strangers. He was possibly getting a new link in the hospital. One that was insistent on helping him start a physical case file. He was still kind of reeling from there, so he wasn’t actually sure how he felt about that yet.

Waniguchi’s information… Something about it made him want to keep a closer eye on that. Not specifically about what he’s said, but by how the man had reacted to it. For all his violence and bluster, Waniguchi had very good instincts when it came to recognising trouble. If he felt like something was wrong, then there probably was. And that made him anxious, especially with how little they both had to go on.

He’d gotten to actually speak to Eraserhead. An underground hero that he’d admired ever since he’d started properly looking into the man. Because he fought quirkless, his quirk erased other people’s. That meant everything else he was capable of came from pure, hard-earned skill.

And, as a quirkless kid, why wouldn’t he admire that? Proof that a quirk wasn’t everything that went into being a hero. A sharp wit and hard work were vital, too.

“Mostly? I think… I’m angry for Unohana-san and Kana-san’s family. I’m worried about Waniguchi-san, and the ‘League’ he’s possibly found, and what they might be up to. And… I think I’m kind of excited about meeting Eraserhead.” He listed them out slowly, twiddling his fingers in thought.

“You are an empathetic person. I would be surprised if you weren’t upset about what’s happened to Kana-san. You worry for Waniguchi-san because you know he could be at risk. You are a good fit for the butterfly because you care about what happens to others.” Nooroo smiled gently at him. “The fact that we got to top it off with meeting someone you admire, someone you know will look into the things that worry you, is a stroke of luck. A very good one at that.”

Izuku smiled.

“Yeah. I guess it is. We should go home now. I don’t know about you, Nooroo, but I can hear my bed calling for me.” The little kwami laughed.

Shouta watched the gold and purple butterfly fade from existence, taking the odd feeling at the back of his mind with it.

So that was the mysterious Sasakia.

He hadn’t expected to end up meeting the mysterious informant when he took over Flashstep’s route for the week, let alone on the first night. But he would have been lying if he’d said he hadn’t been curious about the person in question.

Flashstep told him to keep watch for a glowing butterfly, since that was the only way to communicate with the tipster. And there was a pattern to that, as well.

If the butterfly was fluttering through the air, then he’d have to catch it to speak to the informant. If it was sitting in place, then it was waiting for a hero to pick it up so he could convey something. But if it dove down to you? Then there was an emergency somewhere that needed a hero involved as soon as possible.

To his luck, it had been sitting innocently atop a shop's AC unit on the route.

He’d felt the psychic connection establish itself soon after he’d picked the little butterfly up. He was familiar with the feeling, having worked with the Wild Wild Pussycats before. So he hadn’t been too badly startled by the voice that spoke into his mind.

Sasakia sounded young, he wasn’t an adult. Shouta was sure of it. He sounded like a teenager, one who was trying to stuck to very formal language. (He’d never been referred to as “sama” before. That had been different.)

It didn’t sound like his standard way of speaking, though. Sasakia likely hadn’t noticed his small slips when he spoke. A slang word here and there, a drop in formalness in a few places. He was definitely somewhere in his teens, but trying to sound older and more composed than he actually was. But, unless he somehow met the young man in person, he wouldn’t have a better idea of where to place him. Maybe somewhere between high school and university age, if he was pressed to make a guess.

Then he’d gotten the information.

The Damasu group committing the bank heists. Body Snatching from one of the smaller, local hospitals. A potential illeagal quirk fighting ring in Vespara. Some possible Vigilantes in the residential district. And a possible criminal group forming in the Farona disctrict.

It was a lot of information: two solid cases, two potential cases, and one rumor.

His phone vibrated in his hand.

Naomasa - ‘The Damasu looks like a solid lead. They’ve got someone who could have gotten them in and out of the banks without setting off flags. We’re doing checks now. Setting up extra security at the Haito bank and making sure everyone knows who not to let in.’

Naomasa - ’The Ijutsu Hospital called about the Body Snatching. A nurse showed up with an entire file for the detectives. Says she knew the person who was taken during the past 24 hours. Getting things going on that as we speak. Have a couple heroes coming to investigate security not noticing.’

Naomasa - ’Sasakia’s keeping his reputation up with these. What’re your thoughts?’

He knew what the detective was really asking. He wanted to know what Shouta had picked up about the informant while talking to him.

Shouta - ‘Young. Under 20 at most. Trying hard to seem older and be taken seriously. Most likely male due to voice pitch. Cares a lot about strangers, was upset about Ijutsu hospital but trying to hide how much.’

Shouta - ‘Had a few other potential cases, but no solid evidence to point to yet. May check with contacts to see if there’s more.’

He had time to gather more about the informant. He couldn’t say for sure if he would speak to the informant again while covering for Flashstep, but he’d be keeping an eye out for the butterflies while patrolling.

But first, he had a fighting ring to look into.

Chapter Text

Nooroo flitted about the room, helping his chosen pack his bag for the day. They both knew that Izuku didn’t need the help, but the kwami’s quiet assurances were acting as a balm to his nerves right then. One that he desperately didn’t want to lose yet.

He’d spent the past ten months preparing for his entrance exam, but no amount of prep was enough to keep his spiraling anxieties at bay. He’d been able to distract himself with his work as Sasakia, chasing leads and passing information to various heroes. But the pressure had still been hovering at the back of his mind.

So he’d done the one thing he could do, the one thing that was in his power to do; he researched. He studied UA, he studied the past tests, and he hunted for information that had been shared by Alumni. He’d scoured every source he could get his hands on. (He may have… Even went into a few that he technically shouldn’t have had access to. He… He was never going to let people know the corners he’d managed to get into without the credentials he should have had.)

(Plus side, lurking let him gather things for his role as Sasakia! So, ultimately useful finds.)

From what Izuku understood from his research, UA handled its applicants very differently from any other school. Let alone a Hero School.

Most schools only had students sit through a written exam that covered multiple classes that the school offered, such as history, math, English, and so on. Most of their chances rode on their score and whatever records their previous school gave to the high schools, and their ability to pay the tuition if their school required one.

However, UA was more thorough as their tests usually consisted of two parts before accepting students into their walls.

All the courses included a written test, covering the standard material expected of a high school of their caliber. Meaning it was challenging and would require prior studying or a clear understanding of the subject matter to ensure a passing grade.

The second part, on the other hand, varied depending on the course you were applying to.

Hero students had a practical exam, meant for them to display their understanding of their quirks and how best to apply them. From what Izuku had gathered during his panicked scrawling through the internet on nights when his nerves were too high strung to let him rest (or he was puzzling through a case that made him too upset to sleep); the hero course practical was skewed to offensive quirks, making it difficult for anyone who didn’t have a flashy ability to show what they were capable of.

There were possibly multiple ways to earn points, but it seemed like the methods for earning those points were kept very hush-hush by the school. Likely to keep anxious or obsessive studying students from learning about it and skewing their actions to match.

The exception was the recommendation students. Who had a separate, significantly more complex test that varied from year to year. Unlike the main test, people were more open about the Recommendation tests.

(Probably because they were different each year, so there was less chance of the students being able to cheat.)

General Education students were usually made up of students who didn’t pass the hero-course practical, but had shown either the grades or the determination that was worthy of the school. According to the grapevine, it was possible to test out of the GenEd and into the Hero course if they showed enough skill later on in the school year. Often during the Sports Festival, but there were a few cases where a student managed to impress the teachers enough to be transferred, even without making a grand showing like that.

It was a fascinating setup when Izuku stopped and thought about it. Since it proved that the initial entrance exam wouldn’t block a hero-hopeful’s dream if they didn’t pass on their first try. They still had a chance if they were willing to put in the time and effort.

(And any hero students who were found not to be cut out for the hero course would be bumped “down” to GenEd. It was a two-way street. Although Izuku was sure most of the students in the Hero course didn’t know about that…)

Support Course students usually had to submit a project that they were working on in addition to their tests. Blueprints, notes they had of the gear they were making, and the kind of applications they could see their project being used for. Some of them even designed a piece of gear for a hero currently working in the industry and explained how and what they thought it would help with.

He’d heard that one support student had made a support gear for a hero that worked so well, the hero actually contacted UA for permission to give the student contracts while they were still in school! Which was just amazing.

And then there was the Business/Management course.

Management required students to have an interview with one of the management course teachers. Where the student was supposed to show their understanding of what they wanted to do in that course, as well as convince the teachers that they were a good fit.

Unlike what people seemed to think, the Management Course was built on a tremendous amount of specializations. HR, PR, all kinds of Financial, Marketing and Sales, everything Legal, not to mention anything that involved working with the police and government; everything that was needed for a Hero or Hero Agency to succeed was crammed into the Management Course if the other courses didn’t already cover them. (And even then, there was a lot of overlap.)

No student could take on all of those, and no agency could depend on a single person to fill all of those roles. So, when entering Management, the hopeful student needed to know what role they wanted to fill. After all, with how many jobs an agency needed to get done, accepting just the students who wanted to be PR agents would leave a deficit in everything else. So UA needed to ensure there was at least one student interested in all of those trying to get into their course. As well as to test the interests of the student to see if they were even willing to dabble in the other disciplines that were covered. (A one-trick pony would never get far.)

Izuku had a goal. He knew what field he wanted to specialize in and had no fear of expanding his skills outside of it.

He planned to take on Quirk Profiling and Analysis.

If there was anything he’d gotten good at in or out of his role as Sasakia, if there was any singular skill of his that he was well and truly proud of, it was figuring out how quirks worked when he only had their aftereffects to work from.

He could pick out the most likely effects and get damn close to figuring out who did it based on that. And he knew how much that helped both heroes and police save people’s lives. He knew how understanding how a criminal’s quirk worked could help get the right person on the right case to save people. He knew how the Right hero could be found if they knew what was needed.

And it was something he knew he could do.

He’d assembled a “test” profile to present during his interview, based on a criminal case he’d seen on the news that wasn’t solved yet. He knew it might be a little risky, since it was an ongoing case, but he’d wanted to show what he was capable of. And he’d planned to say outright that he knew there was every chance he would be proven wrong later, but he’d wanted to give them something current that they could also look at.

(And he’d been afraid that, if he used an older case or one that had been solved, they would think he was just showing them someone else’s work instead of his own.)

He’d printed out more than one copy of the analysis, so he could hand them out if there were more than one teacher in the room. (Maybe six copies were too much, but his nerves said print more. So he did.) Nooroo had needed to convince him to simplify some of his observations, but he felt confident in the final printout.

All he had to do was get to the school in time, take the written exam, and not melt into a puddle of panic and anxiety during the interview.

Easy!

Now, if he could just convince his roiling nerves of that.

“Izu-bochan, you need to breathe,” Nooroo’s voice gently cut into the haze of Izuku’s distracted thoughts.

He took a deep breath in, held it, then slowly let it out.

“S-sorry, Nooroo. I’m just- I-” He bit down on his lip, forcibly swallowing back the tremor in his voice. “N-nerves.”

“That’s alright,” the butterfly kwami said with a soft smile. “It’s normal to be nervous. There’s nothing wrong with it, so long as you don’t let it hold you back.”

Izuku gave a wobbly smile, which was returned with a calm, patient smile from the kwami.

“Now, final checklist before we go, do you have your bag?”

“Ch-check.” Izuku lifted the satchel his mother had surprised him with for his last birthday.

It was almost all black, with creamy-white strap and bright yellow buckles that held the flap shut. She had made it for him, and even included a mesh pocket on the side for his water bottle, pen pockets on the inside, a few pouches on the front that were just the right size for some fruit bars, and a little sturdy pocket inside that was perfectly sized for Nooroo to sit in without feeling squished by Izuku’s school supplies.

(Unwrapping it had been the moment when he realised he may have been gushing more about Eraserhead at home than he’d originally thought. He appreciated how subtle the nod to the hero was, but it still left him feeling bashful.)

“And you have your profiles all packed in it?”

“Check. All in their folder, for safekeeping.” They were stapled into packets and neatly packed inside. Plastic, with snaps to keep it shut and prevent anything that leaked in the bag from staining them.

“Your latest analysis book?”

“Y-yes. It’s in the same pocket as the support book.” For any support tool ideas that he had, or self-defense tools that people could use. It had started as a suggestion from Sango-sensei that he ran with. It was fun when he tried to think of various hero-gear that could have civilian uses.

(He had a few ideas for Kamiko inside it as well, hidden amongst the support gear as "theoretical quirks” that he’d come up with. Just in case anyone asked him what was inside it.)

“Water and snacks?”

“Fruit bars and granola for both of us, along with my water bottle and a mini-smoothie for you.” Healthy foods were important, and he would never pack food for just himself.

“Your wallet?”

“In my pocket. With a little extra money in it in case I need fare or we stop to eat on the way home.” Which they probably wouldn’t, since Izuku’s mom had already fed them both a large breakfast that morning.

“Your cellphone?”

“Already turned on and in the same pocket as the wallet.”

“And, lastly, the miraculous?” Izuku chuckled, his smile feeling more real. As if Izuku would ever go anywhere without it.

“Pinned to the inside of my gakuran, where no one but us will know it’s there.” Nooroo smiled, landing gently on his shoulder.

“Well then, Izu-bochan, I think it’s time to go.” Izuku smiled at his friend, lifting the flap of his bag just enough to let the kwami slip inside

His mother and little sister had already left for the day, so Izuku would be making the trip on his own. He’d insisted on it. For both his nerves and his self-confidence, he’d wanted to make his way to UA alone.

His mother had spent plenty of time fussing over them both already and packed lunches for both of them.

The train ride was short enough, and Izuku busied his hands with notes for his Idea Book and his ears with music to keep his thoughts from spiraling. He’d had a fun idea for a self-defense weapon that could be available to the public that he was sure would make Sango-sensei laugh, and set about sketching the idea in his notebook to show her later.

(In the 19th century, the French upperclass had trained in a special type of fighting that made use of a walking stick/cane, called Canne d’Arme or Canne de Combat. Why not take it and try to modernize it with something people could carry on their person today without gaining notice? Specially reinforced umbrellas would be odd, but no one would make a fuss about someone carrying one. If the cloth was made of the right material, it could act as a shield against most types of knives as well. If a hero had it, then there could be a hidden tracker that could be deployed from the tip, or it could work like a sword cane!)

(But, most of all, beating a mugger over the head with an umbrella would be funny. And that was reason enough to make Sango-sensei laugh.)

He felt Nooroo poke him through the bag, getting him to look up and take note of the stop on the display over the door.

They’d arrived. Time for the most important Test and Interview of his school career.

Izuku had lost his idea book.

Which really wasn’t something he should have been hung up on at this moment, but he was.

He was 90% sure that he kind of knew where it had gone, or rather, who it had gone with. The problem was that he had no idea who to ask or where to look for the person in question.

It hadn’t been stolen, he was sure of that much. Not on purpose, anyway.

He’d been (accidentally!) run over by a pink-haired girl with dreadlocks sprinting to the support course testing area, both of them had dropped note books in the collision, and he was fairly certain the girl must have picked up his notebook by accident while racing to grab hers and shouting an apology over her shoulder at him. It had happened so fast he’d barely had time to realize what was going on until the girl was gone, and he was sitting on the ground staring after her in bewilderment.

Especially since, as far as he was aware, they weren’t even late for the tests. If anything, he knew that he’d arrived early for them. So there shouldn’t have been a reason for the girl to be racing around as if she were late.

(Support and Management were both done on the same day, with the Hero Course getting a day to themselves. That was par for the course, considering just how many students UA had applying for the Hero course. It was better to have the full staff on hand to deal with that many anxious teenagers on their campus instead of trying to divide everyone up for it.)

He’d simply shaken his head, murmured an assurance when Nooroo asked if he was alright, and dusted himself off before heading to the area where management students were supposed to be taking their tests.

He hadn’t even realised his notebook was missing until he’d sat down in his seat for the management test and found it wasn’t in his bag when he pulled out one of his pencils. He’d wanted to kick himself when he finally noticed. But at this moment, he couldn’t really do anything. And he wasn’t sure he could whisper softly enough to ask Nooroo to find the girl for him without alerting the other students to something being off. He really didn’t want someone to accuse him of using something to cheat. Or to distract the other students from their work.

He’d just have to ask a teacher after the tests and interview. He was reasonably sure they would help once he explained the situation.

The test itself hadn’t been too hard, as far as he had been able to tell. Sure, he felt a little bit like his brain was going to melt out of his ears, but he knew that was more from making his brain jump between subjects so rapidly. He was a little too used to only having to deal with one subject at a time during a test and not several of them all at once. And the trick questions he’d found near the end of the test, mostly management-related ones.

Nothing too big, as far as he’d been able to tell. The right kind of questions to ask a management hopeful, but worded in a way that made them stop and think.

(PR and Police Coordination could make or break a Hero. Especially a Limelight Hero. They needed people who could help them make the right choices and use the right words. Management was far more valuable than people realised until they needed it. Better to test those traits now than to see how much they had to work with.)

He felt like he’d done pretty well overall, at least. He was sure he had a passing grade, enough to net him a spot in the top 30 students. He was good on that front, at the very least.

Next up was The Interview.

(And yes, it needed capitals as far as Izuku was concerned. His anxiety demanded it.)

Everyone had been divided up and sent to waiting rooms, at which point their name would be called, and they would enter the interviewing room with their presentations. They’d have ten, maybe fifteen minutes to get through their Interview, give their presentations, and answer questions from the teachers. Once they were finished or time had run out, they would leave. He assumed they were told that they had to wait for their letter of acceptance (or non-acceptance) while still in the privacy of the interviewing room for the sake of their privacy.

By luck or by chance, it seemed that Izuku’s name would be the last one called.

He’d seen several other students, rife with nerves or excitement (or both, usually both), be called into the room while he remained seated. A few had gone in radiating surety and smugness, which had just left him frowning at their backs as they went. He’d felt things like that before, and usually it came from someone being arrogant in some form.

He hoped it was just pride in understanding and not something that would get them hurt later. (Or someone else.)

But the repeated bursts of Shock, quickly mixed with light currents of Panic (and… being flustered?), did very little to help Izuku's nerves. Especially since he didn't know why he was sensing that from the room. He could only assume there was something unexpected inside, but that left him with far too many ideas of what that surprise could be. He didn’t know if it was just something to knock them off their game or if it was something else.

He hummed to himself, weaving just the smallest bit of magic into the song as he did.

Nooroo had taught him that music was one of the earliest tools for casting magic. Music was meant to teach and to get people to Feel things, so it made for a good beginner trick for people learning to pull at their magic. Izuku thought he was fairly good at tugging on and smoothing over his own tremulous emotions by humming or singing, and he’d used the trick to soothe Eri’s nightmares plenty of times. As far as he could tell, it was a trick that worked.

And humming himself Calm was the only thing keeping him from vibrating out of his skin while he waited for his name to be called. So he would use it as much as he could.

“Midoriya Izuku?”

Izuku stopped humming instantly, head snapping to the open door where Cementoss (!!) was leaning out. Izuku wasn't sure how well he was able to hide his glee at seeing the hero. Based on the slight flickers of warmth he could sense (flattery, pleased at the positive reaction), he wasn't doing very well.

“Y-yes, sir!”

“You're up next. Please come in.” The hero smiled at him, but he could sense faint flickers of amusement as Izuku nearly tripped in his haste to get up.

The room looked a little bit like a conference room. A large wooden topped table in the center with several chairs around it, with large windows against the far wall that lit up the room in addition to the lights overhead. A projector was set up on the table and a screen on the wall, for any students who used a PowerPoint for their interview, if he had to guess. There were a few plants in the conference room too, large and leafy trees settled in the corners that added some natural color to the grey, professional-looking room.

There seemed to be only two teachers in the room with him- No, wait, make that three. He could sense three people waiting in the room.

There was Cementoss, who’d called him in; Midnight, the R-Rated Heroine, sitting languidly in her seat at the table and dressed in her hero costume as she eyed him with a sly smile (and there was a sharp note of amusement and glee to her emotions, for some reason); and then there was…

Izuku nearly blue-screened as his mind registered the final teacher sitting in the Interview Room. Because, seated neatly at the table and watching him with a politely neutral smile, was Principal Nedzu himself.

(Exactly what kind of animal Nedza was was a heavily debated topic. Some argued he was a chimera, an animal made from the DNA of multiple kinds of animals. Others thought he was possibly a strange kind of rodent that had been mutated in addition to having a quirk.)

(Nooroo believed that the principal of UA looked a lot like an albino version of a very large American weasel species called a “fishercat”. After looking it up, Izuku thought it was a pretty good guess.)

The cunning mystery mammal was dressed neatly as he sat at the table, paws folded in front of him as he watched Izuku come in. Watched as Izuku froze, wide-eyed and stunned, at the realization that the most intelligent being in the world would be present and listening as he tried to convince them to allow him to attend their school.

As he evaluated the quirkless potential student to decide if they would allow him to walk UA’s halls.

Yeah, now the shock and panic he’d been sensing before made sense.

Izuku was feeling pretty shocked and panicked himself.

He swallowed against the lump of fear terror anxiety that had abruptly lodged itself in his throat, eyes fixed on the principal.

The principal who felt… Politely interested, but in a subdued way? There was nothing bad in his emotions, as far as Izuku could tell. He didn’t want to say it felt like the hero was bored, per se, but there wasn’t much of a spark in the animal’s emotions.

Maybe it was tiredness? He’d just had to sit through a bunch of presentations by student-hopefuls trying to curry enough of his attention to get him to agree to let them join his school. And Izuku was pretty sure most of the ones in the group he’d been in just wanted to do PR for a hero and not the rest of the work that goes with it. Sitting through at least 15 different variations of the same presentation would probably be a little bit boring, even if the people in question tried to liven it up in some way. Since most of them were middle schoolers, a lot of their “You Should Choose Me” statements were probably the same ones, but with slightly different sentence structure.

Which, yeah. He could see being a tad bored from that.

Maybe I can be a change of pace, then. Something new. This might even help me stand out in a good way.

“U-uhm, good morning. I-it’s an honor to meet you, Nedzu sir. And you as well, Midnight-san, Cementoss-san.” Izuku bowed, straightening up and smiling nervously at the three teachers. Something positive appeared in the emotions of all three, though there wasn’t quite enough for him to guess at what it was. (Pleased that he’d acknowledged all of them instead of just fixating on one, maybe?) Principal Nedzu smiled just a little bit wider.

“Good morning. It’s Midoriya Izuku, correct?” Principal Nedzu gestured to the seat in front of him, a silent invitation for the curly-haired boy to sit down. Cementoss moved to sit on the other side of the school’s principal, putting the animal between the two much taller humans.

“Y-yes, sir,” Izuku answered with a nod, slowly taking a seat and setting his bag in the chair beside him

“Well, as I’m sure you already know, this is the management course interview. We’d like to know a bit more about you and what you’d like to learn in our school.” Logical and fairly standard as far as Izuku had managed to learn. “As you know, our school is focused on the Heroics Industry, so much of our curriculum is designed to help students find a place in the industry. And one of those ways is to learn what it is you want to do. What do you wish to specialize in that you think will help.”

The animal smiled pleasantly, his emotions calm and fairly relaxed from what he could tell, and opened his paws in an inviting gesture.

“So tell us, Midoriya-san, what heroics field do you wish to work in?”

Izuku took a deep breath, fighting with everything he had to keep from fidgeting in the seat, and he answered.

“I want to work as a Quirk Profiler and Analyst, sir.”

And suddenly, all three teachers had a surge of Interest in their emotions. Especially from Nedzu, who started leaning forward in his seat. The sudden, laser focus made the hair on the back of Izuku’s neck stand on end, but he forced the feeling to the back of his mind.

“Really now? That’s not a common field of interest for new students.” Cementoss commented, eyes opening just enough for Izuku to see them properly. He sounded kind of… Impressed, honestly. He hoped that was what he was hearing and sensing. “Normally, students pick up on that field later in their schooling.”

“I-I know. But it’s something I’ve been interested in for a long time, and I’d like to make a career out of it. I- I actually made an example profile for my presentation today.”

“Oh, I do love when a young man comes prepared~” Midnight’s tone was salacious, but the note of genuine Interest in her emotions made it easier for him to keep his head. Despite the flustered blush crawling over his face. “Do please show us, Midoriya-san.”

Izuku bobbed his head, opening his bag and pulling out the folder that he’d put the profiles in. Snapping it open, he pulled out three of his six copies and handed them to the teachers.

“I, uh, used a current case that the police have been working on for this. The burglaries in Hosu, since the reports are relatively open to the public.” He looked at them, still nervous but serious. He did his best to keep his eyes on their faces. He didn’t keep direct eye contact, but he made sure to look at THEM. Especially for Midnight-san. ( He would not be making that mistake today.) “I know that there’s every chance that my profile could be proven wrong, once the criminal is caught. But I wanted to show what I could put together with limited information.”

Because that was what profilers worked from, the information left behind. Pictures and descriptions were brought to them by the police of what had happened.

“I see…” Cementoss murmured, reading over the front page of the profile. “Would you kindly explain your logic for this profile, then, Midoriya-san?”

Nedzu’s attention was gone the instant the profile was in his paws. Izuku could tell. Or, at the very least, he was listening with only half an ear instead of giving the potential student his full focus. He didn’t feel offended about it, though, since work like this was technically the teacher’s specialty anyway. He might have been comparing Izuku’s conclusions to the ones he would have drawn from the same evidence.

If anything, he felt a little relieved to not have the laser focus of the school principal on him anymore. The small mammal felt Intense in a way that he wasn’t used to.

Izuku nodded to the teachers and started speaking.

He explained what he could gather from the police notes available to the public, the photos and videos from the news reels, and the descriptions he could find between them. His process for figuring out the kinds of quirks that could cause that damage, and the level of damage based on what they did to get the items they stole. And, finally, what kind of quirk he believed the police needed to look for to find their perpetrator.

As he spoke, he gestured to his printouts, pointing out the details as he covered them and how they connected. Stopping to answer any questions asked by Cementoss or Midnight as he went, and leaving time to let them ask something if they wanted to.

He felt more and more confident as he went, his voice getting stronger and his nervous stutter fading. The positive emotions from the teachers helped bolster him as he spoke. The teachers felt impressed; they were listening to what he had to say.

(They were looking at Izuku. They were listening to him. People listened to Sasakia, but this was different because he was Izuku right then.)

There was quiet once he finished. Then Cementoss spoke up.

“This is very well thought out, Midoriya-san. You’ve done a very good job of working with the clues you were able to find to compile this. Did your quirk help you find these details?”

It was an innocent question. A calm one that, for all intents and purposes, should have been perfectly normal to ask someone.

It took everything that Izuku had to suppress the reflexive flinch.

(He didn’t notice the teachers noticing the not-flinch at the question.)

“N-no sir. I can’t use a quirk for that because I- I don’t actually…” He swallowed, trying to get his voice even again. “I’m… I’m quirkless, sir.”

“Interesting!” Nedzu’s downright chirpy reply made him jump in surprise. “So this was compiled entirely from unassisted observation and logic based on other quirks and cases, I presume?”

“Ah, yes, sir.” Izuku was feeling more than a little bewildered at the emotions he was sensing from the school’s principal. There was interest, curiosity, and delight radiating from the hero’s small form.

(He was too used to the downturns. Silent sympathy if the people were kind, pity on occasion. Disinterest and dismissal were much more common. Hatred appeared at times, but that was a less common reaction. And always because of that single, unassuming word being spoken.)

“Wonderful! This is very detailed, considering the limited information available to the public. A tad rough, however, there’s definitely potential. I have a few critiques for how you’ve presented some of your points in this, but overall this is very well thought out and assembled.” The principal beamed at him, something bright and even gleeful in his emotions as he spoke. “Unfortunately, I believe we have run out of time for the interview. However, I could include my critiques with your results when they are sent out. If you are amenable to that, of course.”

The offer was genuine. He could feel it. Nedzu thought the profile was good and wanted to give him advice to improve it!

“I- Of course, sir! I’d be honored to get feedback from you,” Izuku said, beaming at the teacher.

“Well then, Midoriya-san, until our next conversation, have a pleasant day!”

“Same to you, sir!” Izuku bowed deeply and left the room at a borderline giddy bounce.

It wasn't until he was on the train again that Nooroo reminded him in a whisper about his notebook that he realized that he'd completely forgotten to ask for help finding it. Then he'd buried his face in his hands and groaned in frustration.

It seemed he'd just have to make a second one, then.

(In a different part of town, a pink-haired inventor was combing over the notebook she'd accidentally stolen in excitement. It was full of magnificent babies that she couldn’t wait to try making. She'd hunt down Notebook Boy and demand a partnership with him once they were both in UA; these babies were simply too good to leave on paper!)

Extra:

Nemuri was grinning gleefully as she flounced into the staff room. Nedzu was at her heels, nose in a packet of stapled papers and looking very pleased about something. (He was almost afraid of what that meant.)

“Oh, Shouta~ I have a surprise for you~”

The exhausted hero glared up at her from his desk, pausing in his paperwork to do so.

“It better be intel on a case or coffee,” he grumbled, eyeing her warily. He was still sore from his last patrol and hadn’t slept well because of it. He wasn't in the mood for whatever mischief Nemuri had caused the potential students during the Management Interviews right then.

“Nope! Something much more fun than that!” She slapped a paper down on his desk. Pulling her hand away revealed that it was a picture, likely printed from the security cameras on campus. “You had a fan among the applicants!”

His brow furrowed in confusion at the same moment Hizashi squawked a delighted “What?!” and all but slammed into his side to see the picture.

There was a rather plain-looking kid with thick, curly green hair in the picture. He was dressed in a fairly standard school gakuran with bright red sneakers on, and wearing a cross-body satchel as he walked through the hallway. (A practical one, from what little he could tell. It had plenty of pockets and even a pouch for the kid's water bottle.)

He quirked an eyebrow at her. He didn’t see anything that showed the kid was a “fan” of his.

“Look at the colors of his bag, Shou! It's all black, with a white shoulder strap that’s almost the same shade as your capture scarf, and it’s got yellow buckles that are pretty close to the color of your goggles. Those sure aren't my colors! Or Hizashi’s!” She grinned at him, practically glowing in delight. “Plus, while the rest of us have retailers selling bags, that one is handmade. I could tell when I saw it up close during the kid’s interview. And since we all know you don't do official merch, that means~”

Hizashi let out a giddy noise from where he was leaning against Shouta.

“Either someone made it for him or he made it himself!” Hizashi was barely keeping his inside voice. He was over the moon about someone seeing his work and making their own merch for him.

Shouta couldn’t help the skeptical frown that appeared.

“Or. It’s just a coincidence, and you’re reading into something that isn’t there.” He said, placidly.

Nemuri and Hizashi always seemed to get excited when they thought they saw homemade merch for any heroes they were friends with. And would gleefully point them out to the friend in question the moment they had a chance. They’d pointed out things that they thought looked similar to his costume before, certain that they’d managed to find one of his “fans”.

People weren’t supposed to see his work. He was an underground hero, and not being noticed by the public was part of the point. Sure, he was seen by some people. Usually, the people he was in the process of helping were the ones who saw him. But that was a given.

“Who do you take me for, Shou? I wouldn’t throw something like this out for no reason,” Nemuri said as she waggled her finger at him. He barely held back a comment at that. “I checked the kid’s application before the interview and saw his address. His apartment building is within a couple of blocks of one of your patrol routes! I’d bet money that he’s either been helped by you or knows someone who was.”

Shouta blinked at that. That was… A somewhat logical argument.

He didn’t recognise the kid himself, but it was possible for someone he’d helped to have talked about him in some capacity around their neighborhood. So, it was possible that the kid could have heard of him and been able to get a vague description. Enough to know he existed and was a Pro-Hero. (Enough to choose colors for a bag.)

He let out a hum.

“It’s still just speculation.”

He ignored the way his friends huffed and whined about him not being “excited” about someone noticing the hard work he did with practiced ease. It wouldn’t be true unless it was objectively confirmed, and he doubted either of them would chase the kid down just to ask.

(He hid the tiny ember of warmth in his chest at the idea that maybe, just maybe, Nemuri was right this time. After all, he didn’t need approval for doing the right thing. But that didn’t mean he was against people appreciating it. )

Chapter Text

Hidden in Izuku’s room, between the layers of his mattress, is a handmade notebook. One he goes to great lengths to keep hidden from prying eyes.

It’s the plainest of all his notebooks, the rest all sporting stickers or fun calligraphy that Nooroo encouraged him to try.

Izuku had handbound the book himself, with a style that would let him add more pages to it at a later date if he decided to. (He doesn’t plan on it.) He’d taken the time to carefully choose the cover and pages, the waxed strings that bound it, and the carefully woven magic that prevented anyone from opening it without his or Nooroo’s permission.

The title on it is a single word, written with a dark purple marker. There is a single red triangle beside the word.

Kamiko.

Inside are only a few pages of notes, barely a full three, and a carefully drawn picture. All of the notes are written in a language taught to him by Nooroo. It’s an all but forgotten language. One that only the Kwami or the Miraculous Guardians knew. Izuku has two notebooks that he uses that language in; his notes on the miraculous and the Kamiko notebook with the red triangle.

He used the language in places where he wanted to be sure that no one but he and the kwami would know what was inside of them. And, for those two books, he wanted to ensure that no one would be able to find the secrets he keeps inside them.

The notes in the little, carefully hidden book talk about memory.

They talk about how the human mind remembers everything that it sees, but it’s designed to sort the priority of those things to be recalled later. The mind tries to make a priority for what it will need or want later, and sometimes it can choose wrong. And that makes it very easy to forget things that should be important. Or remember things that ultimately don’t have much meaning.

 That’s how forensic hypnosis allows people to remember details of crimes or suspects that they couldn’t remember on their own. These can be key things in solving crimes and finding criminals that had escaped.

But those kinds of evidence aren’t admissible in courts and for a very good reason.

People are also very imaginative, so it is actually very common for people to “remember” things that never happened. A hypnotist can unwittingly influence what the person under hypnosis remembers by suggesting what they might be able to see or not see in their memories. Thus rendering the information untrue, or fabricated, and potentially learning to false conclusions.

People who’ve been through traumatic events or are under extreme stress have trouble with their memories. The extreme emotions cause their brains to misfile the information, making them forget important details. If they can remember what happened in the first place. Repression was a large part of trauma.

Some types of neurodivergence have memory issues as part of their symptoms. Another reason for that people who have them struggle. Because they have a brain that just can’t figure out what is and isn’t important to recall.

The notes mention that the psychic ability to manipulate memories is called “Mnemokinesis”.

Very few people have quirks that can affect someone’s memory, but they do exist. Most of their abilities revolved around being able to recall things themselves and not forgetting them.

Some, however, can alter the memories of others. Shuffling around those priorities that the brain used to sort so that important things were forgotten, and insignificant things were remembered. Or even removing the memories entirely.

And the human mind isn't the only thing that can struggle with memories. Computers can also have problems. Data can be corrupted and lost. Recordings and equipment can glitch and make the resulting data unusable. Updates can accidentally erase the data that should have been left untouched. It was more common than people seemed to think, but with the right professional, it was possible to repair it. Or at least repair the programs involved.

Some of those can be very obvious, something seen right away and fixed in short order. Others can be so subtle that the owner of the computer never notices until someone else points it out to them. Sometimes, though, the error is never found. Not until long after the original owner had discarded the equipment. And they are none the wiser.

Computers are harder to influence with quirks. Destroying them was easy, but altering the data in ways that most would never know? To tweak and hide and remove without being noticed? That was much harder.

But it wasn't impossible.

The last page is a drawing of a person. It is the most detailed drawing Izuku has ever made.

(He and Nooroo are the only ones who have ever seen it. He hopes they are the only people who ever will.)

The person is effeminate and very old, though it’s hard to tell if they’re actually a woman. They look as though they’re made of layered paper, covered in unintelligible writing, with only their half-lidded eyes looking like actual features. They’re dressed in a long, many-layered kimono that’s decorated like the pages of a scrapbook, covered in images that look like clipped-up photographs, though none can be deciphered. Something that looks like a pendulum or a pocket watch hangs from their obi and their hair, and there is a serving ladle clutched in their hand.

Despite their strangeness, they look grandmotherly. Kind. Caring. Someone safe, despite their strangeness. The kind of person that people would always trust.

The drawing is simply labeled “Meng Po,” and there is a date written in one corner. It is the day Eri started living with them.

It was the first Kamiko Izuku had ever made. (It is the most dangerous Kamiko he has ever made.)

(He prays that he will never need to use their powers again.)

Chapter Text

Toru wanted to cry.

She had thought she'd done everything she needed to do to avoid this. She'd sent skin and hair samples with her costume designs. She'd done her research about the materials she'd need to ask for it to be made from. She's sent the most exact measurements she could.

She had been so excited to get her hero costume. Surely a school as amazing and well-funded as UA would be able to make something that could work with her quirk!

But the moment she'd opened the case that was supposed to hold her costume, her excitement died a painful, abrupt death.

Gloves and a pair of shoes.

That was all that was in the case. The case that should have had a full hero costume inside it.

Sure, they were very nice and well-made. Perfect for hero work, even! But…

She was invisible, but she was still a teenage girl. She didn't want to run around naked!

So now she was in the changing rooms with the other girls, trying her best not to cry about her lack of a costume. Not that the other girls could tell, she was invisible after all. Most of them had left already, trying to get to class on time. After all, All Might was their teacher, and no one wanted to keep him waiting for long!

“Hey. You alright there, Toru-chan?” She jolted, twisting to look at the girl who'd spoken to her.

It was Tsuyuu. The frog-like girl was watching her with a little frown, her head tilted ever-so-slightly to one side.

“O-oh. Hi, Tsu-chan. I, um, I'm fine.” Toru winced at the tremor in her voice.

“No, you're not.” Tsuyu's words were blunt, and Toru wilted with a sniffle. “Is there something wrong with your costume?”

“Yeah… They- They didn’t give me the full thing. I'm- I'm sure it's probably just a mistake. I can- I can muddle through with it.”

Tsuyu frowned harder at her and it made Toru want to start crying in earnest.

There was a knock at the door that made her jump in surprise. Who was- ?

“Hello? Is there anyone here?” It was a boy's voice. He sounded really hesitant and nervous, but it didn't sound like he was trying to get into the changing room. “Sorry, I was passing by and heard voices. I think I'm a little lost, do either of you have a map of the school on hand?”

The two exchanged a look, even if Tsuyu couldn’t actually see Toru’s face.

It was a little strange that the boy had managed to find his way there. But, then again, UA had a really big campus. It was almost bigger than the whole of Musutafu, despite only being part of the area. It actually… Wouldn’t be that hard to get lost, now that she was thinking about it.

“Uhm, yes. I have a map in my bag. Give me just a second to get it.” Toru called nervously, setting aside her costume case and grabbing her school bag. The school handbook had a map in the back, she’d found out. She wouldn’t have even known it was there if she hadn’t thought to read through it at home.

She stood up and stepped out, her handbook flipped open to the school map, and finally saw the boy who’d gotten lost.

He was probably in her year and looked rather… Well, he looked kind of plain.

No offense to him! She was just used to boys having some big feature that made them stand out, but this one looked like he could easily vanish into a crowd. (She knew the feeling.) He had thick, curly green hair, a rounded face, and lots of little freckles. It seemed like the only real stand-out feature he had was his eyes, which were big and round and the same color as his hair. Something about him felt… Soft. Like a kitty that was just starting to grow out of their kitten phase but wasn’t quite a full cat yet.

He smiled sheepishly at her, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Hi, sorry for interrupting… Oh! You're invisible!” He perked up, smiling at her. “What a cool quirk! You're a hero course student, right? Are you planning to be a stealth hero?”

“Oh, yeah. I'm Hagakure Toru. I- Um, I'd like to be a stealth hero, yes.” She couldn’t help the small, sheepish smile.

It had been a while since someone had actually told her that her quirk was cool. Usually, people bring up how hard it would be to be noticed, or that she could sneak into places she shouldn’t because no one would be able to catch her.

(They would also say other things about her. As if she couldn’t hear them. Like being invisible was just a joke… No, she was already sad about her costume. She wasn’t going to make herself sadder!)

“Midoriya Izuku, I'm in the management track. I wanted to explore the school some more before I went home for the day, but I ended up getting lost.” He politely bowed to her. Straightening up, he paused before frowning at her. “Sorry if I’m being nosy, Hagakure-san, but are you okay? You sound a little upset.”

She sniffled. This was awful, she was so upset everyone could tell even if she was invisible. It was just a costume; there was no reason for her to be upset about it!

“It-it's fine, Midoriya-kun. There was just a mistake with my new costume. It's silly…”

“It's not silly. Not if it's something that upsets you,” he said firmly, kind green eyes looking at her. “What's wrong with it? I'm in Management, so my school schedule’s free right now. Maybe I can get a teacher's help for you?”

He sounded so… sincere? Genuine? She could tell that he wanted to help. He wasn't just offering to be polite.

Well, there was no harm in telling. Right?

“I… I asked for a body suit for my costume, along with sturdy gloves and boots. Something that could turn invisible with me, or at least be opaque enough to not be noticed right away?” Midoriya nodded, looking thoughtful. She heard the door to the changing room opening, likely so Tsuyu could listen in. She didn’t really mind it. “But… But it looks like they just gave me the gloves and boots… I mean, I'm invisible, so it's not a big deal-”

“What?! That's awful Hagakure-san!” Midoriya cut her off with a shocked yelp, his face a picture of horror. “Most beginning hero costumes are supposed to include some kind of armoring to protect from shrapnel. If you don't have that, then you could get seriously hurt!”

“They- they do?” she asked, her eyes widening.

Midoriya nodded, his face set into a serious frown.

“Of course. All student hero costumes are made with a thin armored layer built in. At least, they’re supposed to be. You’re all still learning how to use your quirks for hero work, and that includes things like combat and rescue work. Shrapnel is one of the biggest risks in the field, right after stray attacks. All it takes is one broken piece of glass or metal or landing wrong on broken concrete or rebar, and you could end up in the hospital!”

There was an awful lurching feeling in Toru’s stomach. She hadn’t thought of that, but Midoriya was right. It really would be easy to get hurt. And her class had a lot of powerhouses in it, from what she had been able to tell. All it would take was one attack missing the person they were aiming for and…

“There’s supposed to be a thin armor layer between the cloth layers of the costumes, about as thick as cardstock or woven from super-thin wires. It’s not super strong, but it’s supposed to protect you from smaller hazards while you’re training.” Midoriya pinched his fingers together to make his point about how thin the armor was. “You need to have the right protection now, while you're still learning, to be safe later. It makes it easier for you to decide if you need more or less armor in future costumes. Are you sure they didn’t give you anything else? The case didn’t have a second layer, did it?”

Midoryia looked at her, his face furrowed in concern.

“N-no, there was only one layer…”

“Is the armor supposed to make the costumes heavier?” Tsuyu asked, stepping out into the hallway with them. “Cause mine feels compressing, but it doesn’t feel like there’s more than just really sturdy cloth for it. It’s like a diving suit, actually. And I think I remember Jiro-chan and Ashido-chan saying theirs felt like normal clothes but cooler.”

Midoriya’s eyes were wide, looking deeply concerned. (Toru was starting to feel worried too.)

“You need to tell your teacher that there’s been a serious mistake right away. It sounds like someone in the costume design company that UA ordered from made a really big error. I don’t know why this wasn’t caught sooner…”

“I think we should be okay for today though. It’s our first heroics class, so we’re probably supposed to just do an equipment check anyway,” Tsuyu said, a finger pressed to her chin in thought. The green-haired girl turned to look at Toru. “I think you could probably wear your gym uniform with your new gloves and shoes. I don’t think All Might-sensei will mind. Then we can tell him about the mistake, he’s a teacher after all.”

Toru nodded, though no one could see it.

“Y-yeah! All Might-sensei will know what to do.” Toru paused, then wilted. “Oh, but wait… I forgot my gym uniform today…”

“Here.” Toru looked up and saw Midoriya holding out a cloth bag decorated with purple butterflies that he’d obviously just pulled out from the big satchel he was carrying. “I take self-defense classes with my mom and accidentally brought my gi with me today. You can borrow it for your class. It might fit a little differently on you than it does me, but it should do the trick for today.”

She gasped.

“Ah! Midoriya-kun, you don’t have to-” He cut her off with a wave of his free hand.

“That’s true, I don’t have to lend it to you,” he confirmed, then he gave a smile. She wouldn’t call it a glowing smile, but it was definitely a warm smile. A kind smile. “I’m choosing to. You can give it back to me tomorrow. I’d rather let someone borrow my stuff to help than to just walk away and do nothing.”

Oh, hearing that put a warm feeling in her chest. She shakily took the bag and hugged it to her chest.

“Thank you so much, Midoriya-kun,” her voice warbled as she spoke and, for once, she didn’t care. (Someone saw her problem. Someone wanted to help her. Someone didn’t just wave it off because she was invisible. )

He beamed at her.

“It’s no problem, Hagakure-san. Like I said, you can return it to me later.” She ducked back into the changing rooms before she could burst into tears. (Happy ones, this time.)

(It had been a long time since she had felt seen by someone other than her parents.)

When she came back out, dressed in a simple white gi with her new gloves and boots on, Tsuyu was the only one waiting. The girl smiled at her.

“I let Mido-chan look at your map. He said that he usually tries to get to school early in case of villain attacks and finishes his homework in the library. So you can give the gi back to him then. We should hurry to class though, we need to let All Might-sensei know what's wrong.”

“Ah! Right!”

With that, the two rushed to catch up with their class, who were all waiting on the training field.

“Ah! Hagakure-shoujo! Asui-shoujo! I was beginning to worry. Is everything all right?” All Might’s voice boomed over the field, looking at them with his signature smile. But Tsuyu was the first to speak up.

“No, sir. We just found out that there’s a big mistake with everyone’s costumes.” Instantly, the entire class's attention snapped to them and Toru fought back the urge to squeak. “Most of Toru-chan’s costume was missing.”

All Might turned to face them fully, giving them his full attention. Toru scrounged up her courage, hands clenching nervously. (Gosh, she was so nervous to talk to him!)

“Y-yeah… I was supposed to have a body suit with my new gloves and boots, but it wasn’t there. I’m- We bumped into another student who’d gotten lost, and he lent me his gi for class. But he said that student hero costumes were supposed to have an armor layer in them and not just be regular clothes. S-so everyone’s costumes that don’t already have armor in their design were made wrong!”

The class started whispering and talking, all of them double-checking their costumes. (Like her, they probably hadn’t known that their clothes were supposed to have armor built in.)

All Might’s face shifted, ever so slightly, a hand going to his chin in thought.

“I see. You’re very right, that is a serious error.” His tone was very serious as he spoke. Toru could feel herself sinking in relief. (Of course, All Might would listen to them, he was a hero! She had no idea why she thought he wouldn’t.) “Someone could get hurt if you all don’t have the right protection.”

“Our class should be okay today, though. Right, Sensei?” Tsuyu asked, her head tilted. “It’s our first class, so we’re probably supposed to just do checks and spar with each other to get used to our costumes.”

“Ah, yes, of course! I had an exercise planned to put your costumes to the test, but ultimately that was the plan!” He laughed, boisterous and bright. “I will alert your homeroom teacher right away about the mistake, but for now, I’d like you all to split into teams. We’re going to go over the equipment you have and how it’s supposed to work…”

Toshinori wanted to pat himself on the back for how quickly he’d managed to adjust his plans for the class. He’d wanted to do a teamed Hero vs Villain training for them, but he certainly couldn’t do that if they weren’t properly protected! Recovery Girl, for as kind as she was, probably would have killed him if he did that.

(Asui’s comments about checking equipment and sparring certainly helped with the change.)

But the fact that the majority of Hagakure’s costume was missing was highly concerning. Yes, her quirk rendered her invisible. However, being invisible didn’t prevent you from being hurt by things like knives or gunshots. Moreover, she was roughly fifteen. She was a child. Forcing her to work in nothing but her gloves and shoes, in front of her teachers and classmates and strangers was just-

(He had seen things over his years working as a hero. He didn’t have a perfect understanding of it, but he knew there were threats and dangers that female heroes had to deal with that he didn’t.)

He swallowed back the sick swirl of emotions in his chest.

He’d already texted Aizawa to tell him about the error in the costumes. He planned to talk about it in the teachers' lounge as well.

The lounge was noisy when he arrived. And opening the door revealed Nedzu sitting on a desk and watching as a viciously furious Maijima paced across the floor.

Aizawa was seated at his desk, nose buried in several forms that he was frowning quite severely at as he flipped through them. Kan was seated nearby, doing the same but with a much more hostile expression directed at his papers. In fact, he realized as his eyes scanned the room, it seemed all the hero course homeroom teachers were furiously digging through papers in varying degrees of rage.

“Ah, Toshinori-kun. Tell me, how was your first class?” Nedzu addressed him pleasantly, but he could definitely feel a tense edge to it. He gave a proud (if slightly nervous) smile.

“Very well! The students did a fine job during their equipment checks and getting used to how their costumes felt while sparring. It was mostly quirkless spars, as I didn't want to risk injury after discovering… well.”

The large rodent smiled.

“Excellent! I'm glad everything went well. It is a shame that such a large error occurred with the female student’s costumes. I suppose we should be thankful that it was found so early in the school year. That gives us plenty of time to see to it that it gets fixed.”

That was… A rather concerning statement. It sounded like it wasn’t just Hagakure’s costume that had such severe issues.

“The- I’m sorry, was it more than just a few?”

“More than just- Oh, if only it were just a few of the costumes!” Maijima’s tone made him almost take a step back. “This is a travesty! An insult! If I find the person who did this, I’ll-”

The noise that his coworker made was concerning, and the mimed gesture implied a very large amount of violence. Nedzu let out a sigh, looking more frustrated than All Might had ever seen him before. (Which was a high bar, considering how unflappable the school’s principal had always seemed.)

“Yes. It seems that all of the updated and new costumes this year were, in fact, subpar. Our costumes usually have armor woven in, but it seems someone in the company we usually work with has failed quite spectacularly in following procedure.”

Maijima let out another concerning noise. Snipe winced from where he was sitting, then spoke up.

“I was here when you messaged Aizawa. I remembered that a few of my students had ordered updates for their costumes and decided to check them.” The sniping hero’s shoulders sagged. “The normally armored clothes had been made with ordinary fabric. Stuff that tears way too easily and doesn’t offer much protection.”

He sounded exhausted, and Toshinori couldn’t blame him. That was a tremendous change and a dangerous one for students who actually worked in the field.

“And worse still, there seems to have been someone who’s decided that they ought to, ahem, take creative liberties with the costumes intended for female students,” Kan’s words came out as a growl. “Too form-fitting, openings where there shouldn’t be any, things that get in the way of quirks… I don’t know who did this, but there’s gonna be hell to pay once we do.”

“Oh, there certainly will be!” Nedzu’s smile gained a new, vicious edge to it. “Maijima-kun and I plan to personally speak with the person responsible and rectify the mistake. As well as remind them that they are meant to consult with us before adjusting a student’s costume.”

“Good gracious…” He mumbled, feeling himself sweat. This sounded like it was much bigger than just a single costume being separated by accident.

Sunda, the first-year management course teacher, looked up at Toshinori. They were one of the younger members of the staff, but he’d found they were happy to explain the sides of management that Toshinori wasn’t as familiar with. And how those had to be monitored especially well for a heroics school.

“This is a very big problem, for us and for our support companies. We have these precautions in our contracts with all of them for student safety on and off campus. The fact that one of them dropped the ball on something this important is a major red flag,” they said, frowning seriously. They curled one of their many braids around their fingers. (A nervous habit that he was slowly becoming familiar with.) “We might even have to get a contract with a new company. It’ll be difficult, but considering how many it looks like we’ll need to replace, I don’t think there’s a single company in the country that’ll turn us down. Not even with the short notice.”

Toshinori winced, quietly thankful that he wasn’t in charge of the paperwork that would likely go into something as complex as that.

“We tend to have multiple companies that make the students’ costumes, just because our companies have specific specialties for equipment that others simply don’t do as well. Once we narrow down which one was in charge of the clothing, we’ll get in direct contact to get answers.” Sunda rubbed at their forehead in frustration. “The fact that no one caught it before we received all the cases and they reached the students… This is a mess. We’ll have to postpone so many of our more intense training sessions for this.”

It certainly was a mess. Someone had sent them subpar equipment and had tried to coast by unnoticed because of their previous work. He could see why everyone was so angry. Not to mention what had been done with the student’s designs. It would be one thing if they had been adding more protection, but they had taken protection away for the sake of- What? Personal appeal? Marketing? Which they couldn’t even do legally because they were all still in school.

They were students. A bunch of teenage kids! It was one thing if they asked for those changes, but they hadn’t! It wasn't acceptable for a stranger to make those choices without consulting the customer about it.

It was a breach of contract, a breach of conduct, and a breach of trust all wrapped into one.

He found himself wanting to groan in frustration as well, but he swallowed it back. Adding his own emotions to the mix would help no one.

As it was, he needed to try and rethink what he was going to teach. As if trying to come up with his original lesson plans wasn’t hard enough with his limited teaching experience. He sighed, slowly sinking into the seat at his teacher’s desk and pulling out the planner he’d written his classes in.

He had noticed a few things while watching the students spar that day.

Students like Kirishima and Ojiro had done quite well while sparring with their classmates. It was clear they’d had prior combat training. But others like Kaminari and Mineta had struggled quite badly. Perhaps it would be best to focus on teaching them all to be comfortable fighting when they didn’t have access to their quirks? Knowing how to use one's quirk was vital to herowork, but no one was a one-trick pony.

He’d faced several situations where trying to use One-for-All would have made things worse and had been forced to rely purely on his skills in hand-to-hand. Knowing how to work without one’s quirk allowed for a much larger variety of hero work that could be accomplished. Aizawa’s quirk made it very clear that having such a skill would be highly beneficial for them.

“Well… I suppose we could turn some things around with it,” Toshinori muttered to himself, flipping to the pages where he’d originally written down the combat lessons he’d planned.

“How so, Mightyman?” Yamada’s voice made him jump slightly, and he looked up to see several of his fellow teachers watching him. He fumbled with his words for a moment before he continued.

“I-I noticed that many of the students in my class didn’t know hand-to-hand. Or, at least, they didn’t know it very well? So it would be beneficial to help them master it for situations where their quirks wouldn’t help them very much,” his voice grew stronger as he went. Despite his inexperience with teaching, he did think this was a good idea. “My own training involved a great deal of martial arts, and much of it has proven to be useful during hero work. Going over the basics and ensuring all the students are on the same level would be good for them. Right?”

“That’s a good point.” Kan finally started smiling, leaning back in his seat as he thought. “We can work in more lessons for handling themselves during a fight too. Like how to fall safely and techniques for avoiding injury.”

Aizawa’s frown lessened, and he let out a thoughtful hum.

“More focus on physical skills over quirks would be useful. Getting them to realize their quirks aren’t all they need would be logical for the long term. Maybe a few first aid lessons…”

The teachers started working on more ideas, for things that could be taught while they required costumes for the students, and things that could wait until later.

This was a hitch, but it was one they could manage.

Chapter Text

“NOTEBOOK BOY!!” The yell made Izuku jump in alarm, and instinctively fall into a defensive stance as he turned to the owner of the voice. Who seemed entirely unbothered by the fist aimed at her.

A girl with bright pink hair styled back in thick dreadlocks grinned wildly at him.

“I finally found you, Notebook Boy! I've been scouring the school for ages trying to find you!” She was immediately in his face, using the arm he'd raised in defence to lean on. “I had to find the brain that made the amazing babies I'd seen!”

He stared back in bewilderment.

“Huh?”

The girl's grin just got bigger. She was radiating delight and excitement, to the point where it was getting hard to think for himself.

“I thought that, with those amazing babies, you were sure to be in the support course with me. But you went for management instead, huh? No wonder you were so hard to find.” Her eyes roved over him, the golden crosshairs that made up her pupils shifting as she did. (Did they have something to do with her quirk?) “Better for me, though! You must know lots about business then, which is just the kind of thing I need. I demand a partnership with you!”

“Wh-what?” He was completely confused. “I'm not sure I understand. Why do you… ?”

The girl shoved a hand into her bag, the other securely gripping his arm, and pulled out a notebook. A notebook that he recognised, especially since it was his own handwriting on the cover. It was his missing support idea book.

He'd actually forgotten about that.

Then this was the girl who'd run him over on exam day. He’d thought she was a support student; it was kind of nice to know that his guess was right back then. And she- wanted a partnership? With him? Because she'd seen the random ideas he'd doodled in the notebook? They weren’t really schematics, just random sketches and notes about what he thought could be done. Yet this girl…

“You-you like the ideas I had?”

“Yes!” She chirped, beaming at him. “You have some really great babies in here, and I wanna make them real!”

“Really? I mean, a lot of them are more about self-defense than hero gear…”

“Exactly! They have broad appeal, to the public and to heroes!” The girl started shaking his arm, but it was clearly in excitement more than anything else. “I would love, love, love to have these in my showcases, but they’re your designs. You need to get a cut from them!”

“Oh, uh, okay then? I don’t- I don’t mind if you use some of them.”

And… He really didn’t mind it. She was making equipment to help people, to help heroes and civilians. She wanted to make his design ideas because she thought they were good and would help people.

“Excellent! I shall get to work right away, Notebook Boy!”

She let go, and Nooroo jabbed at Izuku’s side through the bag with a muffled “Izu-bocchan!” that he instinctively knew meant the kwami wanted his chosen to stop the girl before she could leave.

“Ah! Wait!” His own hand shot out, barely catching the girl’s glove before she could sprint away. She spun back, still brightly smiling at him, even if there was now a curious tinge to her emotions. He scrambled to think of what Nooroo wanted him to do. “U-uh, my name’s Midoriya. Midoriya Izuku. You-you’ll need my name if you’re gonna credit me.”

“Oh! Right! Names!” She said with a grin, bouncing slightly. “I’m Hastume Mei! Hey, which one do you want?”

“Which- Oh, which of my ideas?” What did he have in the notebook again? It had been a while since he’d gotten to look at it. He’d had several ideas, but the last one he’d been working on was… “Uhm, one of the umbrellas, I guess? I’m quirkless and that would work with the self-defense lessons I’ve been taking.”

Hatsume’s eyes zeroed in on him again, suddenly narrowing and making him feel like he was under a microscope. Her emotions didn’t turn hostile, but there was a sudden, sharp focus that made him want to squirm. She was examining him, thinking about what he’d blurted without thinking.

“Hm… Longer than average? Like a short staff? And what colors?” Her questions were thoughtful, considering.

“No, uh, I’ve been researching Canne d’Arme, and that just needs walking stick length. And, um, shades of green? Maybe with yellow trims? I like those colors.” Sure, a Japanese kid learning a French fighting style was odd, but in the modern day, it was hardly unheard of. He’d almost wanted to say purple for colors, but something told him not to.

“Any patterns?”

“I… Like birds and butterflies?” She blinked at that, but nodded.

“Yeah… I can work with that.” She grinned at him again. “Give me a week, Notebook boy! And then I’ll have your baby ready and waiting!”

And then she was off.

He stared at her retreating back, then slowly looked down at the kwami peeking out of his bag.

“Well, that happened.” Nooroo looked up at him, looking rather bewildered himself.

“She never gave back your notebook.”

Oh, right. Whoops.

Izuku didn't hear from Hatsume again for a week. Not until she burst into his classroom during lunch, an umbrella colored in sweeping green patterns clutched in her hand, and a manic grin on her face. She'd then dragged him off to show off how effective it was, as well as how sturdy she’d managed to make it while still allowing it to act as an umbrella.

Knife-resistant cloth, sturdy metal for the length, and it was heavy enough to be an effective self-defense weapon. There was a tracker built into it that she’d made connectable to a phone, and had snatched his to make the connection as soon as she’d gotten him to the support studio. It also included an SOS signal that connected to emergency services. He could set it off with either his phone or a hidden button inside the umbrella itself. (Which, useful! Having a way to call for help was a good thing to keep on hand.)

Hatsume, who insisted that Izuku call her Mei, then opened his notebook and began asking about the other ideas and getting him to clarify some of his scattered, stream-of-thought rambles in the book.

Their “meeting” ended with Mei making photocopies of the creations that she found the most interesting, and Izuku finally reclaimed his support idea book.

Mei had entered her contact info into his phone, too. And started gleefully messaging him with ideas and updates over the next week. Including telling him about the latest experiment that had blown up on her, and what Power Loader-sensei had scolded her about last.

It was by far the strangest, wildest friendship Izuku had ever made.

But he wasn’t actually complaining about it.

Mei was bright, cheerful, and excited about her work. And only too happy to try something new. Her good moods were infectious once they started working together.

There was just something about how she presented her ideas, how she talked about what she could make, that made it feel like she could do anything. Like she could make anything, if given the chance. And she was ready to work with anyone.

(It was nice to meet another person who just… Didn’t care that he was quirkless. It was nice.)

Chapter Text

The flare of Anger caught Izuku by surprise.

It was lunch, and most of the students had all made their way to the cafeteria by then. He had decided to eat in the classroom, for the sake of his nerves if nothing else. (Too many people, too many emotions. He was comfortable in a classroom, but the lunchroom was a hurdle he didn’t feel ready for yet. Nooroo was proud of him for recognising his limits.)

It was two halls down from where he was, and it was tinged with Frustration, Exhaustion, and Resignation. There were others nearby as well, at least three people, all with echoes of Disdain, Smuggness, and faint hints of Fear to them.

It was a combination he knew painfully well.

Nooroo squeaked from inside his bag as Izuku suddenly leaped to his feet, almost knocking it over in his rush, and burst into a sprint out the door and down the hall. He needed to get there fast.

(This was UA. This was a school for aspiring heroes. No, that couldn’t happen there. It shouldn’t happen there!)

He almost stumbled in his effort to slow down and pretend to act natural before he entered the scene. He needed to appear calm, like he’d just walked into the scene by chance. And not like he’d just made a mad dash from his classroom to get there. He needed to be just slow enough to get information while still able to cut in before things could go wrong.

“Man, I’m surprised UA would let someone like you in,” one voice said, snide and condescending. Another chuckled.

“Maybe they did it to keep an eye on him. Best to keep a close eye on a future villain, right?”

“They oughta just expel him and be done with it. Then they don’t have to take a hit when he gets arrested.”

Izuku felt himself frowning. It was close, far too close to what he’d thought was happening. A group of bullies, ones who’d found a potential victim to target. It didn’t feel like things would get violent yet, but he didn’t plan on taking the chance.

But what to do?

He could step out, but what then? Should he confront the bullies? Should he fake a story to get them to leave? Or should he abscond with the victim? Or would it be better to watch and note down who the students were and report them to the teachers? (They were heroes, so they should at least look into it. Right?)

Izuku remained still as a tingling feeling traveled up his leg, and a weight appeared in his blazer pocket.

“Izu-bocchan?” Nooroo’s whisper traveled up to him. “What do you want to do?”

What did he want to do? (What had he always wanted when people taunted him? )

He took in a steadying breath and stepped around the corner, making sure his footsteps were loud enough to be heard on the tiled floors.

His eyes met the eyes of the victim first.

He was a first-year student, Izuku could tell, and had the uniform for the General Education course on. (In fact, all three of them looked to be GenEd students.) Spiked purple hair swept back from his face, doing nothing to hide how pale his skin was under the electric lights. His eyes were the same shade of purple as his hair and had deep, dark bags under them. His uniform was neat and orderly, everything matching the school’s regulations, and not showing any kind of personal customization. Which was unusual, since UA was one of the few schools that allowed for students to wear personal accessories and clothing tailored to their preferences.

His face was set in a neutral, bored expression. But Izuku could feel the Tiredness and Frustration hiding underneath. And the tinge of Curiosity that appeared when he spotted Izuku.

Forcing back his own nerves, Izuku spoke.

“Excuse me, is there a problem here?” He tried to keep his voice neutral, no outright hostility but definite hints of disapproval. He crossed his arms in the same way Sango-sensei did when she saw students in the class messing around when they shouldn’t or deliberately ignoring the instructions she’d given and not taking her lessons seriously. (Sango-sensei had mastered the “disapproving adult” stare.)

He knew what was going on, and he didn’t like it. And he wanted them to know it. He wanted to channel that Angry Teacher energy so that they would, hopefully, leave quietly without the situation escalating.

The three bullies jumped, turning quickly to see Izuku’s disapproving stance and not-quite glare. The middle one, the one who’d lead the group if he had to guess, tried to act nonchalant about what they’d been caught doing.

“Hey man, it’s nothing for you to worry about…”

“Is it? So the three of you aren’t cornering a classmate in a hallway, alone, when the teachers are all away from the classrooms?” He rarely got sarcastic with people, but surely they knew how bad this looked?

It was so stereotypical that anyone would know the instant they saw. Anyone with eyes could see that they were trying to harass their classmate when there was no one around to stop them. It was so obvious it wasn’t funny. He had no idea what they were thinking, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. (He had been the one cornered too many times before he met Nooroo to want to understand the other side.)

The leader started stuttering, obviously trying to find something he could say in their defense and not succeeding. At least he seemed self-aware enough to realise how things looked. The other two, not so much. They panicked when their leader seemed to, without fully knowing why he was panicking.

Which ended in them putting their foot into their mouth.

“He- He shouldn’t be here! He should just drop out already,” one of the others squeaked out, waving at the purple-haired boy. And completely missing when the lead bully’s head snapped to them. “We’re doing the school a favor…”

Izuku felt his eyes narrow, one foot tapping slowly as he started to properly glare at the three.

He pulled on a tiny amount of magic, just enough to make an invisible, almost indetectable pressure in the air. Not enough to be properly noticed by anyone who wasn’t magical themselves, but enough to make a non-magical person feel just-a-litte-more-nervous than they would normally feel. (It was a trick Nooroo had taught him to help train his external control of his magic for making things like protective barriers.)

“No. No, you’re not.” The three started shuffling, squirming under the Look he was giving them. “UA is one of the best schools in the country, they don’t let just anyone become a student. If someone is a student, then it’s because they proved that they had something that the school thought was worthwhile. This isn’t for the school, and I believe we all know it.”

He swept his gaze over them. They were starting to look nervous, and just the littlest bit guilty. (Good, his magic was working.)

“You are UA students, you should know better.” He paused for a moment, then continued. “And you should also know that Principal Nedzu ensured that all the hallways in the school have security cameras. Cameras that include sound recording.”

Abruptly, all three students paled, staring at him with wide eyes and radiating Alarm.

“According to the student handbook, the teachers regularly check the recordings to make sure students are following the rules…”

And, with that, all three made panicked excuses before they went tearing off down the halls. Just as he’d expected (and hoped) would happen. Leaving Izuku and their victim behind.

Izuku watched their retreating backs, waiting until he couldn’t hear them clearly anymore before finally turning to check on their victim. He dropped his strong, disapproving stance and finally letting the concern he felt show. He quickly approached, calling back his subtle magic to make their air feel normal again.

“Hey, are you alright?” He asked, eyes quickly scanning the other over. Nothing was pinging in his senses, but he felt like he had to check anyway.

The purple-haired boy blinked at him.

“Yeah, I'm fine. They were just talking smack, not like they were brave enough to do worse.” It was said casually, like it didn’t bother him. But the green-haired boy could sense what he was hiding. He was bothered by it, but was masking it. Probably because he didn’t know the strange student who’d come to help him.

Izuku gave him a weak smile.

“Today they were. But if they think they can get away with it, then they’ll have the chance to get worse.” Izuku’s face got more serious. “Have they tried to mess with you before? Or was this the first time?”

The GenEd student shook his head, feeling just a little bemused and just a little thoughtful.

“Nah, this was the first time. For two of them, at least. One of them went to the same middle school as me, so his groupies are new. They’re all in a different class, though.”

Ah, so this was a longer-term acquaintance then. Not someone who’d singled him out after meeting him in school. That was a little better, he guessed. It meant the other wasn’t just roaming the school looking for targets. This was something that both were (unfortunately) familiar with. Izuku could kind of understand that, at least. He knew Kastuki-san was attending UA now and would probably take personal offense to Izuku being there too. Even if the quirkless boy was in the Management track and not the Hero course. Katsuki-san’s ego was… Tender enough to feel like he needed to make a fuss about his former childhood friend attending the same school.

Even when Nooroo tried to explain what he understood of that kind of mindset to him, it just didn’t make sense to Izuku. He just couldn’t understand Katsuki-san’s logic and how it led to his extreme defensiveness over anything and everything that revolved around his ability to be a hero.

Izuku frowned, letting out a little hum at the answer the purple-haired boy had given.

“Still, if they start to escalate, you should tell a teacher. UA takes discrimination like that really seriously.”

“It sounds like it,” the other said with a chuckle. “Surprised about the microphones in the security cameras, though…”

“Oh, there aren’t any. A lot of the halls should actually have the same number of cameras and microphones as a normal high school,” Izuku said with a small, nervous laugh. “I, uh, made that up to get them to leave. I didn’t know if they were the sort to get violent if someone confronted them so…”

Purple eyes widened and a slow, wide grin spread over his face.

“You’re kidding. You made that up? You sounded so serious!” Izuku could sense the glee bubbling up in his yearmate at that. He let himself grin back.

“I figured that they probably hadn’t actually read the student handbook, not cover to cover at least. And enough people know what Principal Nedzu is like that it would sound like something that he would do. So, I just rolled with it.”

“Oh, that is amazing.” The purple-haired boy started laughing. “What’s your name? I have to know after hearing that. ”

“I’m Midoriya Izuku,” he said, nodding politely. “I’m in the Management track. And you?”

“Name’s Shinso Hitoshi, GenEd. But I plan to transfer into the Hero Course.”

“Oh really? What kind of heroics were you planning on?” Izuku couldn’t help perking up at that. It sounded like Shinso had an… Unusual quirk, so asking about it directly might not go over well. Asking about what he wanted to specialise in would probably be okay, though. Maybe?

Shinso blinked in confusion at that.

“Uh…”

“As in, what specifically did you want to be called in for? Like, do you want to do rescue? Disaster relief? Crime investigation?” Izuku carefully suggested. He sometimes forgot that not everyone thought the way he did. He needed to give a little more detail for people to know what he was talking about. And, apparently, the full range of hero specializations tended to fall into that category. People knew about Villain Capture and Rescue work, but not much more than that.

(Nooroo had playfully called it his secondary Hyperfocus, after quirks. He couldn’t say the kwami was wrong.)

“Oh, uh, well…” Shinso’s brow furrowed in thought. Izuku gave him time to think, quietly assuming that Shinso hadn’t ever taken the time to really think about what he wanted to do. “Underground. I wanted to do underground work, my- my quirk is better suited for stuff like that.”

Izuku nodded, that would make sense. Shinso’s quirk must be something that had very specific conditions to work right, then. It needed to be kept a secret so he could use it without someone anticipating him or having a counter ready.

“I see. So more background work instead of being in the Limelight, then. Criminals tend to be a lot more clever and brutal in that line of Heroics.” He tapped a finger against his chin in thought. “Do you have any kind of martial training that you’re doing? Underground work requires a higher agility and personal fitness level than Limelights, since they tend to need to work in much tighter conditions with a lot less backup. And they often have to back their skills physically in order to maintain secrecy and subtlety while working.”

“Uh… Not… Really. I’ve had a hard time finding places that’ll let me- That have the kind of classes that I want.”

Ah, right. Those other students thought that his quirk was “villainous”, so that probably meant that he had trouble finding people willing to help him. Similar to how Izuku had dealt with so many people telling him to give up on being a Hero, and refusing to let him do anything to protect himself for the longest time. Not until he’d convinced his mom to sign them both up for the self-defense classes.

The green-eyed boy smiled to himself. Well, he’d made a promise to himself about who he’d recommend if he met a hero student who’d wanted to take lessons.

“You should try the community center near Tatooin Station. They have a really good self-defense class there. The teacher is strict, but she’s great.”

“Really? Guess I’ll have to take a look.” Polite disbelief. Shinso wasn’t going to outright say he thought the other was wrong, but he didn’t think the butterfly wielder was right.

“You should, it’ll be worth it. She won’t turn you away if you sign up, even if you’re from a different district. I mean, she’s willing to have a quirkless kid like me in her class, after all.” Izuku could sense the way Shinso’s emotions spiked with shock at that, his head abruptly snapping to the boy walking beside him to the main halls.

Izuku kept his face relaxed and pleasant, pretending he couldn’t sense as much as he could. (He wasn’t hiding that he’d told the truth. He didn’t have a quirk. He had something else at his disposal.)

“That’s- That’s cool. I’ll definitely look into it then.” The purple-haired boy was being much more genuine that time.

Good. Hero work required a lot of effort, and they needed to be willing to take the initiative. Shinso didn’t look very athletic, so he probably hadn’t done more than was required for a normal school’s gym class. If he really, truly wanted to be a hero, then he needed to put in the work and not just hope that he’ll be given the chance.

Izuku couldn’t help the grin that appeared.

“Just a heads-up then, Sango-sensei will snap you like a twig. But if you’re going to be a hero, she’s exactly what you’ll need.”

Hidden away in his office, far from the prying eyes of students and teachers alike, Nedzu listened to the playbacks of the school’s security footage.

He was very pleased that he’d managed to convince Maijima-kun to experiment with the alerting sensors for the hallway security cameras. He had a large number of hidden microphones and cameras on the school grounds, it was helpful to have the sensors tell him if there was something unusual going on so he could take a look instead of combing through the entire day's footage himself. Keeping them a secret from the students made keeping an eye on potential troublemakers much easier.

Even if, in this moment, a student made a bluff that they weren’t aware was actually true. If anything, it made him want to laugh at the coincidence of how well the student in question had sussed out the kinds of things the quirked animal would do.

Nedzu was quickly growing fond of Midoriya-kun.

First, his deeply fascinating quirk profile, which had turned out to be almost perfectly on the money. He’d missed a few details, but those were only because the police hadn’t released all of the case details to the public. He was sure that, if the boy had access to them, he would have easily figured out the exact quirk’s effects.

Then helping discover the problems with the student uniforms simply because he’d “gotten lost” while exploring. Yes, he had been wandering the halls aimlessly prior, but the turn to the locker rooms was too deliberate to have been entirely by chance. Something seemed to tug the boy in the direction of the changing rooms, though Nedzu couldn’t be sure that it was a conscious choice on Midoriya-kun’s part.

And now thwarting some budding delinquents who thought they could skate under UA’s anti-discrimination rules! His reaction was fast, incredibly so. He’d reacted like he’d heard something that immediately drew his attention and told him to move as quickly as possible. As if he'd heard a shout or something being knocked to the floor.

Honestly, if he kept this up, Nedzu would consider extending private lessons to hone whatever subconscious ability he had that was letting him find so many problems before they could become something more serious. Because he was sure the boy had some kind of hidden ability other than the sharp mind he’d shown in his tests. No matter what his records claimed his “power” status was.

Midoriya-kun had the toe joint, yes. But…

Nedzu was the smartest being in the world. He had noticed things. Noticed people and places that were just a little bit more. There were people and places in the world that seemed to carry an air, carry a Power, that existed outside the laws of quirks. There were things humans could do, things hidden in their pasts, that modern science couldn’t fully explain away. And there were people who had those strange, non-quirks bubbling away under their skin. Quietly waiting for the moments when they were needed. Waiting to show that they were More than what society tried to box them into being.

If his guess was right, Midoriya-kun may be one of those people with a quiet power whispering away at him and waiting for its chance to fully appear.

And there was nothing he enjoyed more than seeing his students grow to be their Best Selves. He would be more than happy to help refine that hidden talent, no matter where it came from. Especially with the little cues and clues it seemed to already be giving his budding student.

(Even without that, Midoriya-kun had a sharp mind that appealed to him. Good observational talent like that was hard to find. It was best to give a mind like that the chance to flourish properly instead of letting it get lost in the shuffle. Yes, Nedzu planned to keep an eye on the skills of that student.)

For now, however, he had to put a flag in the files of some of the GenEd students.

They had to keep an eye on students who seemed inclined to harass their yearmates for things outside their control, after all.

Chapter Text

One week before the UA Entrance Exams

Izuku couldn't decide if he wanted to groan in frustration or melt into a puddle of second-hand anxiety. Both were highly tempting at the current moment.

“Wanaguchi-san, please. Walk me through this, because I'm having trouble understanding your logic here.” He was trying, really trying, not to let his tone get waspish with his contact. But the idea that the crocodile-quirked man had, apparently, come up with between the last time Izuku had spoken to him and their current conversation was… Well, stressful for him. Because he was empathetic and prone to worrying about people whom he somewhat cared for. (And Wanaguchi had grown on him. Like a fungus.)

The man felt just the smallest bit sheepish, but the rest of him felt stubborn and wholly unrepentant for the grey hairs he was giving Izuku.

“I signed up with the League a month ago. They were being too close-lipped to anyone who ain't with them for me to get info for ya.” The man gave his head a shake. “It was the easiest way to get on their good sides and get the actual useful shit. 'Sides, I'm just hired muscle for a job they're planning. Nobody they'd be watching too closely.”

Izuku wanted to scream. That wasn’t the point. The point was that this was dangerous. That putting himself in that position would put him at risk!

Neither of them trusted the League. They were dangerous; they were an unknown to the underground. They kept their information too close, and that made them far more dangerous than any other group on the streets. Because they knew how to hide what they were doing, that implied more experience than the age of their group presented. If they were able to hide so much information, then they must have very good methods for keeping it all in-house.

And Wanaguchi was putting himself right in their path, under their potential watch, and putting himself at far more risk than Izuku would have wanted him to take.

Izuku had to talk him out of this. He had to. He had to at least try to convince the man to do something else.

“But you still don't trust them, they’re far too dicey for your tastes. You've said before that there’s something rotten about them.”

“Oh hell yes, I trust them about as far as someone without arms could chuck a tank! But I couldn't say what's wrong with ‘em without getting closer. Besides, you're gonna be glad I did once I dish the news I’ve managed to get out of them.” Wanaguchi's emotions shifted to something more smug. Proud of his own cleverness, and proud that he'd gotten something that he thought was very good for Izuku.

“And that would be…?” He was almost afraid to ask, but he knew he was losing ground on getting Wanagichi to bail out while he still could. His emotions were too firm. Too resolved. The crook’s mood took a downturn, becoming far more serious at his question.

“The big plan they got in the works? They're gonna stage an attack on one of the local hero schools. Not sure which one yet, but they want to freak the city out by breaching the defenses of one of the schools. They got a guy with a quirk that can, apparently, let them past the security and dump a bunch of goons right in.”

“What?” Izuku felt his stomach drop, horror trailing up his spine.

An attack on one of the schools? Full of students? Many of them weren’t even trained for combat in the first place. Only the students in the Hero Courses would have been taught how to use their quirks in a fight. If they could get past the security and unleash a bunch of villains directly into the school grounds…

That would be horrible. So many people could be hurt, or worse. That wasn’t even getting into how the public would react to hearing about a disaster like that…

“Yeah. Personally, I don't think it's gonna work out too well. I mean, sure, the brats ain't trained enough yet but the teachers'll drop everything to stop it before things can get too far outa hand,” Wanaguchi grunted. His emotions were… Calmer than Izuku expected them to be, after dropping a bombshell like that. “The whole lot'll probably end up behind bars in the end. I’ve seen a lot of these guys before, and they’re honestly pretty shitty fighters. They’ll go down fast once the pros jump in. That said, I'd be down for a knock-down-drag-out with some of those hero teachers. Sounds like a great time to me!”

Wanaguchi’s fight-junkie excitement, mixed with the oddly level-headed feelings, helped combat Izuku’s anxiety.

“I-I see…” There was a moment’s pause, then the tall man spoke again.

“Look, I know how you are about kids being in danger, but I don't think it's gonna be as bad as whatever you're thinking of. Especially after you tell the schools about it.” Wanaguchi wasn’t soft and would deck anyone who tried to claim he was, but there was definitely something more to his tone. He knew how much work Izuku put into helping kids, into keeping them safe from people who tried to hurt them.

“I… Suppose you have a point. With this much warning, they should be able to mitigate it fairly well.” Izuku let a slow breath out, still slowly rubbing at the head of his cane in a vague attempt to help further calm his nerves. Izuku knew enough heroes that the message could reach all the schools in a very short time. He could make it better. He could give them the information they needed. “Thank you for informing me. But, please, be careful. We don’t know what they might do to you if they think you’re a mole.”

“You got it. I'll try to keep you posted, but it's gonna be a little harder for me to slip away now.”

“Alright. I’ll try to send more of my butterflies to the area, then. I can at least make it a little easier to find them without arousing suspicion.” It would lead to more strain, but he wouldn’t leave his contact alone. Not when he was taking such a large risk to keep him in the loop. He needed to make sure Wanaguchi had as many opportunities to talk to him as possible.

“Good. Now go tell the rest of the network about this. The sooner the better.” Wanaguchi let go of the butterfly resting on his fingers, and the connection was cut.

Izuku let himself sink to the stone bench in his current hiding place. It was an abandoned building near Takoba beach, a community center that had long since fallen out of use. Likely just before the beach became a dumping ground for trash and garbage. (It was a shame that the beach had become so thoroughly forgotten. According to his mom, it used to be very beautiful.)

He clenched the cane tight in his hands, resting his head against the top, taking long and slow breaths to help calm his nerves.

This was big. This was a lot bigger than he was used to.

He was used to smaller, more contained cases. Ones where he worked with heroes and officers as just a tipster. Where they were focused on a case that was either solved quickly or required others to carry the brunt of the work. Ones that had much smaller groups at their center. He’d handled gangs, beginner traffickers, and even yakuza. But those had felt smaller. Those he’d had other places he could look to for patterns and calculating their moves and goals. They had standards and clear goals that he could chase. Things that made sense, and he could backtrack their actions to understand what they were planning.

(Eri had been an exception. One he’d made at the pleas of both her and one who saw her suffering and knew they would never be able to save her alone.)

The League, however, sounded as though it was something far bigger. Based on what he’d gathered so far, they had been gathering a tremendous number of crooks and criminals to their cause, whatever it actually was.

And, worse, there was an age to them. They seemed new at first glance, but they radiated too much experience. They had resources that appealed to the people they reached out to. They had tools, weapons, and equipment to suit the people they hired. Whoever was in charge knew what they were doing. And Izuku didn’t.

Compared to them, Izuku was flying blind. He didn’t know what he was looking for, he didn’t know what trails to chase, he didn’t know what leads to follow. They scared him.

They scared him.

He let out the breath he’d been holding.

He needed to calm down. There were more important things that he needed to focus on. Like reporting the potential attack before it could happen. The sooner the schools knew to be wary, the safer everyone would be.

Flashstep worked with Eraserhead, who worked at UA. The chances that he would speak to Eraserhead directly were slim, so he would be better off trying to alert any heroes that had a connection to a teacher than trying to find one himself. If his memory was right, there was another hero whose route was much further out, but they knew someone who worked at Shiketsu. Hopefully, if they listened to what he had to say, they would be willing to pass the information on to the other schools that were close enough to Musutafu to potentially be targeted.

They were early enough in the school years that upgrading their security was possible to do without tipping anyone off. It would be easy enough to do even with the influx of testing students. (At least, Izuku thought it would be easy.) If anything, many of the schools could disguise it as preparing for the tests.

Sometimes adults, like parents or teachers, would accompany a students to the exams. Often as moral support, but Izuku had heard that sometimes those adults would try to help the student cheat. It was rare, but not unheard of, for a desperate parent or teacher who really wanted their kid to get in to attempt to sway the results in favor of their child. So putting in extra security and telling their school boards it was to prevent those tag-alongs from trying to help their student cheat would be a serviceable excuse.

It would take his butterflies a while to reach the hero’s route, so he would have to stay transformed until then. As much as he wanted to drop it and curl up in his bed already, he would have to wait until after he’d spoken to one of them.

The lack of sleep would be worth it.

(As long as the schools took him seriously. Stars, he hoped they would listen.)

Two Weeks after the First Day of UA

It was after Izuku had settled into a new rhythm at his new school, and even made some friends, that something finally knocked the temporary peace off balance. And brought his fears of the League back to roost.

It came in two parts.

The first was because of the press. Somehow, they had broken onto the school’s campus in a desperate bid to interview All Might on his new role as a UA teacher. Not believing, or refusing to believe, the other teachers on the staff when they said that he had the day off and wasn’t there. And terrifying the students in the school with their complete lack of tact or self-control.

(It really made him understand why so many people referred to reporters as “vultures”. He knew their determination was a point of annoyance, but their total disregard of the law in favor of their fifteen minutes of second-hand fame was disgusting.)

Never mind the legal trouble they’d likely gotten themselves into for trespassing onto the school grounds as blatantly and violently as they had. UA was not public property, and only students and people with specific passes were allowed on the grounds. Something many of the veteran reporters had known and had hung back because of. He couldn’t help wondering how the green-horn ones planned to explain to their bosses why they got arrested for illegally entering a location they knew they weren’t allowed in.

He knew one of the more experienced ones, who had been willing to have a normal chat with him after the break in, had held back and not actually gone in after the doords had been broken. She’d laughed and told Izuku that many of them were probably in deep trouble and would be locked into desk-duty for a long time for their stunt. (The woman had given Izuku her business card, saying that she’d enjoyed the chat and would be happy to have more with a business student who actually Got It.)

He’d gotten past them on the first day they’d camped outside the school by saying that he was in management and not heroics, so he didn’t have any classes with All Might. And that he was a minor and it was against the law for them to interview him without getting his mother’s permission.

The second day… The second day, he’d given them a dressing down worthy of both Nooroo and his mother when they’d tried to harass Hagakure and prevent her from getting inside. He was quite pleased with how abashed they were when he’d finished with them. One of them even apologized for being too pushy! Shinso had been relieved to come at that moment, since the scolded reporters held back and let him pass unaccosted.

Once they were safely behind the school walls, he’d told the two that no one was actually allowed to interview them without parental consent since they were minors. It was against libel laws for them to try and force them to answer questions without getting permission first. And that the best way to handle being ambushed by reporters to say “No Comment” and stick to that.

Shinso had commented that, whatever agency hired Izuku, he wanted to work there too. Because then he’d know no one would be able to pull crap with them without getting read the riot act. Hagakure agreed with him.

Izuku felt quite flattered by the comment.

(Behind them, Izuku got to watch as Mei took a group of recovering reporters hostage and pitched her inventions to them. He was fairly sure it was some of her self-defense ones instead of the ones made for heroes. He had thought it was funny to watch.)

The day had seemed fairly normal after that. Class proceeded as it always had for him, even if he was in a different, more tolerant school. Izuku kept his head down and worked hard in class to keep up the good grades he’d always had. Nooroo occupied himself with Izuku’s phone, comfortable in Izuku’s bag as he passed the time. Things had gone as they always had for him, just with Pro Heroes doing the teaching. Until lunch came, and the intruder alarm went off.

And Izuku felt… Something.

The rest of the school’s students panicked, but Izuku ducked into the smaller halls to avoid the chaos and find a place where the wild emotions weren’t as powerful. And to chase the strange, unfamiliar ping that had appeared on his mental radar.

“Izu-bocchan, do you sense that?” Nooroo had left his bag, fluttering through the air.

There had been something. A feeling of something darker, for just a moment, that appeared at the edge of their senses. He didn’t recognize it, but it made his hair stand on end. Something inside him said there was something wrong with whatever he was feeling.

“I do. We should go,” he said, carefully jogging after the strange feeling.

They didn’t manage to find the source before it vanished. Though they’d narrowed down where in the school it had come from. It was the teacher’s section of the school building, which had been empty since they’d had to both corral the panicked students and the trespassing members of the press.

Izuku had been forced to turn back before he could be found by a teacher and interrogated about why he had been there instead of evacuating with the rest of the student body. Even if it had been the press who had set off the alarms and the students hadn’t actually been in danger, he still would have been in a section of the school that he shouldn’t have been.

But Nooroo was able to check.

One of the rooms had been disturbed, the records room. However, he couldn’t say what had been done to it. He just didn’t know enough about what would be in that room to say for certain what was and wasn’t supposed to be there. But a drawer had been left just a little bit open, a chair left out instead of pushed into the desk it was next to, and a set of keys left in the lock of a cabinet instead of wherever they were supposed to be hung.

Things hadn’t been put away properly, but it would have been easily dismissed by anyone else. If not for the residue of that strange, darkened energy left on the objects in question that the kwami could sense.

Nooroo said it felt like something sickly and rotten. It was the only thing the little kwami could find to describe it. The kind of rot that made your instincts tell you to leave it behind. To bury it, to keep your distance, to move away before the sickly rot had the chance to spread to you as well.

The kwami felt no fear of it, but he knew that was what Izuku would have felt if he'd come into contact with it. His chosen’s magic was younger, brighter, and more prone to recognizing something that would endanger it than someone as old and powerful as Nooroo would feel. Izuku’s instincts would have tried to drive him away from things that might hurt his young, fledgling magic. And, as such, would have prevented him from being able to examine it to find out what it was or what may have made it.

Nooroo wasn’t driven away by the power, but he hadn’t had the time to properly examine what he’d found before he had to hide.

The knowledge that someone had broken in at all drove Izuku up the walls over the following days.

He knew something was wrong. He knew something had been tampered with. He knew that someone had used the arrogant, excitable reporters and the panic they caused as a smokescreen. There had been more than one crime committed on UA’s grounds that day.

But he had no way to tell anyone.

Yes, he could say something as Sasakia. Except that would make people question how he knew that something in the office had been tampered with during the Press Break-In. Because that was something strangely specific to drop so quickly after an event like that. And it would make the staff start looking closer at the students.

Because, surely, his knowing would mean that a student had tipped him off. Eraserhead knew at least some of how his powers worked after all. He would surely tell the other teachers that Sasakia’s powers worked from both sensory and telepathy, and much of his knowledge came from connecting and conversing with someone. As such, a student would have had to’ve picked up one of his butterflies to speak with him. Moreover, it would make them question why a student would feel more comfortable speaking to a vigilante informant about their suspicions than they did one of their teachers.

Or, worse, they could think that he was part of the group that had broken into the school grounds that day. That he had been there and that was how he’d known that something had happened. Being accused of breaking in would damage his reputation and make them question his motives again. And he couldn't afford that after the work he'd put into getting the heroes of the underground to trust him.

So he was left to stew in his nerves and wonder who had broken in and what they may have taken or looked at. To wallow in worry over what could have been taken and potentially used against the students or teachers later.

It was several days after that that his nerves finally got an answer. And it was worse than he’d ever thought it could be.

He had been working on his homework in the school’s library when it happened.

UA had an impressive library, much larger than any other school library that Izuku had seen or been in. And it was pretty too. With big bay windows that let in lots of sunlight, lots of lush, well-cared-for plants in its lobby, and very nice sculptures and paintings made by students and alumni. The inside walls were bare brickwork, giving the inside of the building a rustic, old academic feel. Like you had stepped into a historic library instead of the library of one of the biggest Heroics Schools in Japan. It stood tall in its own building on campus, much like a college or university’s library instead of a high school library.

UA was large and had far more optional lessons and courses compared to the average high school. As such, the library was built to accommodate the variety of texts to match them. Plenty of books had been added over the years, from students who’d graduated and heroes who had a soft spot for the school and its staff. Izuku had been surprised to find that, tucked away in a back corner, there was also quite a collection of fiction in the library. Some of it was even pre-quirk era!

(He had definitely made a few notes on series that caught his eye for things he wanted to come back and read later.)

Izuku had found a cozy corner that he liked on the second level with comfortable chairs and a table that was perfect for writing and research. It was tucked away, well hidden from the immediate eyes of any other students who came in. With some plush, cozy chairs and a large table that he could comfortably spread out on while doing research or homework, while still leaving room for others to share the space with him. He’d already had some of his new friends come and work on their homework with him in a comfortable little study space.

Izuku was lucky that he had the last period free, at the same time that the Hero Course students had their Heroics classes at the end of the school day. It meant he could retreat to the library and finish the brunt of his homework before he even had to get home! Which left him more time to spend with Eri and his mother after school.

He was doing just that, Nooroo taking the chance to slip out of his bag and sip at the little juice box they had brought for him. The Kwami had settled on the windowsill, listening and offering his thoughts as Izuku quietly read his work aloud. The familiar back-and-forth often helped. Saying his thoughts aloud helped keep him from making mistakes or chasing a bad train of thought.

It was peaceful. Productive. And both of them were perfectly relaxed as he worked. So, of course, that was the moment the world chose to chuck a curveball right at the back of Izuku’s metaphorical head.

The emotions slammed into him like a solid wall. Fast, sudden, and borderline painful.

Panic, Fear, Terror, Vicious Glee, Anger, Bloodlust- a wild cocktail of violence and danger that surged suddenly, the number of people on the school's grounds drastically rising in the span of a few seconds. It brought Izuku to his knees, leaving him choking on air and gasping in alarm. He wanted to scream, he wanted to run, he wanted to fight, he was brave, he was terrified, he wanted to retch, it was all too much too sudden he was so so scared-

Those emotions weren’t his. It was a gasping realization he made from his place on the floor, shaking and trying to stay as quiet as he could make himself be. (Couldn't be seen, couldn't be found danger danger danger!)

Nooroo was pressed to his cheek, whispering frantic comfort and trying to get Izuku to come to his senses, to remember where he was, to gather himself together before someone came and saw them. He wasn't alone, Izuku wasn't alone, he needed to breathe, he could’t pass out here.

He sucked in a sharp, trembling breath. Forcing his lungs to work the way they were meant to.

“That’s it, Izu-bocchan. Keep breathing, I know you can do it. Let the feelings flow over you. Let them move around you; you won’t drown beneath them. It’s a wave, but one you can withstand.” Nooroo’s words were still soft and gentle in his ear. His quiet voice trying to both soothe and encourage his overwhelmed chosen. Izuku shuddered, struggling to listen to the kwami’s words.

Nooroo was right. He’d felt emotions like these before. He had withstood emotions like this before. This was sudden, but it wasn’t something he had never felt before.

But the fact that he was feeling it, so strong and so close, meant… That meant it was very close. On school grounds, even.

Except, this was UA. It was supposed to be safe. The school was supposed to be safe!

“Something’s wrong. Something’s very, very wrong,” he gasped out. The little kwami nuzzled close, their small weight present and grounding against the tide.

“I know, Izu-bocchan. But we can’t act here. We need to find somewhere else, somewhere that we won’t be seen before we can do something.” Izuku squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing back the bile in his throat.

Nooroo was right. He knew the kwami was.

They were in the school’s library. Anyone could see him, anyone could come across him, if he tried to use the miraculous there. Not to mention the risk of being seen on one of the school’s security cameras. If he wanted to find out what was going on, if he wanted to help, he needed to gather himself together and get out.

He forced his trembling limbs to work, grabbing his bag and shoving everything inside before rushing to the front door of the library. He needed to get off school grounds, or at least get to a spot that was outside the school’s security, so he could use the butterfly miraculous to find out what was going on.

(He had to know, he had to act!)

The school's librarian almost tried to stop him, commenting about how pale he looked. But he kept moving, lying that he suddenly felt very sick and was heading to Recovery Girl's office. She let him go without making a fuss.

As soon as he was outside the building, he burst into a sprint. He ran as fast as he could to get to one of the areas where he’d felt sure that there was as little chance of being seen as he could. The on-campus forest was gigantic and very far. But it was the only place he could think of in UA that might allow him to transform while still keeping his secret safe. He hoped that the plant life meant that there was very little security equipment that could potentially spot him.

The exit of the school was too far, and teachers would notice if he left campus before the school day had actually ended. The gate security system would notice and record that he’d left when he shouldn’t have, even if he had the last period before the end of the school day free. Which meant, as risky as it was, he needed to find someplace on the school’s campus to change. But the emotions he could feel told him that there wasn’t enough time for him to try and go further.

He was needed now. Sasakia was needed now.

The school’s woods were as thick as he’d hoped. Thick enough that no one would see him properly, and it grew thicker as it transitioned into the training grounds used by Hero students. Izuku didn’t need to reach that area. He just needed an area thick enough to hide in.

His eyes scanned for a place that was thick enough to hide his bag and far enough off the beaten path that no one would stumble across it and look for him.

He found it in a small hollow of a fallen tree, balanced on a boulder. UA’s grounds were grand and incredibly realistic. The forest had been first planted as a large garden during the school’s founding. The original garden had been moved closer to the library and the on-campus dorms used by some of the teachers. The wooded area once connected to it was expanded tremendously by a hero who’d worked at the school many years ago.

The teacher who had done it had wanted to create an area that could be used for forest disaster simulation as well as for training students in search and rescue. It was such an effective location that some law enforcement training camps and agencies were granted special passes by UA to train their officers and animals on their grounds. It was one of the many ways that UA maintained a positive relationship with the local law enforcement despite many of its alumni having to work around the law after graduation. Many students outside of the hero course were encouraged to sign up as volunteers for such lessons, giving them a taste of hero work and tools they could use to help their communities, even if they never tried to get a license. (Izuku was keeping a close eye on when those lessons opened up.)

He dumped his bag in the hollow beneath the fallen tree, praying that no one had seen him racing into the woods and that no one would find the hidden bag before he came back for it.

Now, all he could do was hope that no one saw him and that he had made the right choices.

“Nooroo! Light Wings Rise!”

Nooroo’s power wrapped over him and, for the first time in years, Sasakia acted during daylight hours. He formed his wings and lifted off, scattering his kamiko and butterflies and sending them ahead to the source of the intense emotions. He prayed that he would make it.

He prayed that, whatever was happening, he would make it in time to help.

His wings carried him far and fast. Despite his inexperience with them, he was able to fly quickly and high up in the air over the school grounds. (There was never enough space to safely train his wings where he wouldn't be spotted.) He kept himself as high in the air as he dared, hoping he was high enough up that the students below wouldn’t see him. He might be willing to suffer a teacher’s notice, but only because he was flying toward an emergency. And leading them to it would surely help, even if it meant people finally had a description for the mysterious Sasakia.

He landed delicately on the glass roof of a domed building inside the school's campus, carefully positioning himself on the wide, weblike dome of glass and steel that towered high over the ground. Kneeling gently on the steel in a place that he hoped would hide him, he peered through the opaque windows as best he could to see inside.

This was the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, or USJ, if he remembered right.

The USJ was one of the many prides of UA's teaching faculties. He had seen it on the school maps in the student handbook and had read about it online. It was a specialized building that allowed the school to safely emulate various disaster scenarios and teach the students how to act and react to them safely. It was hailed as the most well-thought-out simulation buildings in Japan, able to replicate things like landslides, wildfires, floods, and more. The Space Hero: Thirteen, who worked for UA, was the one to design the building and all the ways to safely use it to its fullest potential.

And, with a terrified lurch in his gut, Izuku realized the building beneath his feet was full of villains. Big ones, small ones, armed and unarmed, physical and emitter, there were far more than he'd thought possible. All of them entered the school grounds without being detected until it was too late.

Wanaguchi's warning from before the entrance exam rang in his ears as he stared at the plethora of people below.

The attack had come and UA was the target.

Chapter Text

Wanaguchi Kira didn’t think of himself as a saint. He wasn’t a good guy, never mind a great one. He was a criminal, a crook, and he knew it. Accepted it. And, on rare occasions, he even embraced it.

Most of the shit on his rap sheet was petty crimes. Minor thefts from things he snatched from convenience stores or festival stalls, loitering in places he shouldn’t have been, having shit on him that he shouldn’t have back when he was a teenager. A couple of drunk and disorderly arrests. Nothing too big, as far as he could remember.

The biggest things on his record were the fights. Well, and the ones where he was resisting arrest, but he considered those part of the fights. He was just… Fighting cops instead of other crooks.

He was a fight junkie, and he knew it. He loved a good brawl, especially against a strong and capable opponent. Something that made his blood rush and heart pound. A challenge that left him sore and painful, but exhausted in a way that he found deeply satisfying. There were a few guys that Got That, and were only too happy to point him to underground fighting rings where he could brawl to his heart’s content, and no one there would stop him.

But, that said, he had some standards.

He kept his shit to guys who knew what they were getting into. He wanted to fight somebody who was gonna hit him back just as hard, if not harder. It wasn’t fun to fight someone who wasn’t giving their all. It took the fun right out of it to just wail on someone who wasn’t gonna hit him back.

And he didn’t fight kids.

He was a grown-ass adult. He would easily outmuscle them, and he had way more reach every time he swung. Trying to fight a kid was just an asshole thing to do. He’d promised himself a long, long time ago that he wouldn’t use the strength he had to beat up a kid.

(He’d take death over being like his old man. The deadbeat drunkard would never get the satisfaction of saying that Kira was like him. Never.)

Hero interns were the closest he came to an exception, especially if he could tell that they were gonna graduate soon. Because those brats were taught how to fight. They knew how to take a punch and hit back just as hard. He’d rough them up some, but he could admit to himself that he still held back. More often, he’d just scare them a bit, then challenge their mentors to a brawl.

He was pretty sure the heroes that patrolled his usual haunts had figured that out about him. And they weren’t afraid to bring their ducklings along when they knew they were dealing with him.

Fighting a kid was an insult to him and his strength, as far as Kira was concerned. That was why he’d taken the risk to warn Sasakia about the attack the instant he knew about it.

The fact that they were actually in UA, past the security and the gates and no one had caught them yet, made him understand just why Sasakia was getting so antsy about these guys. Even if Kira had been the one talking to and about them. He knew what his gut was telling him about them, but Sasakia only had the shit he could gather up on the streets about these guys. And he had been constantly saying that he didn’t have enough on them. Not enough people talking, not enough shit he could trace back, not enough to dig up who the hell they were or what they wanted. Just plain not enough.

It was why Kira had been willing to put his neck on the line and sign up with them.

Something was wrong with them, and Sasakia needed the dirt to keep things from crumbling apart. He needed to know more so he could curb how bad they might be. He needed to know what they were capable of and what they planned to leave in their wake. (Kira wasn't a saint, but he wasn't gonna sit on his ass when some mom or grandma or something might get caught in the crossfire.)

But, as Kira floated in the flooded zone with a half-sunk boat for the trainee heroes to use, he started to realize that he might have been underestimating what he was signing up for. These guys might not be as “new” as he thought they were. Because shit like this didn’t work for greenhorn villain organization wannabes.

Not this well, not with this many E and D-level chumps involved.

Someone at the top knew what they were doing. And they had no idea who that person was. Not him. Not Sasakia. Nobody. And that was a big problem.

He hadn’t managed to pass on the message about “killing All Might” before the League of Villains (and that sure was a name) put their plans in motion. He just hadn’t had the time to sneak out and catch a butterfly without his new “coworkers” noticing what he was up to. He doubted they would succeed (this was All Might after all) but the guy they had…

He made Kira's scales stand up. There was something wrong with that guy. He couldn't say what it was and he hadn't been keen on finding out. But he felt confident that guy could do some serious damage, just based on how he looked.

So he was left hoping that the brats that got caught up in this could handle what was happening and that the teachers could cover them.

His gaze slid over the chumps waiting in the water with him.

He knew a few of them. Petty crooks like him, but with lower standards on who they’d fight. No self-respect and a lot of bloodlust. He hated dealing with guys like that.

His eyes narrowed at one with a shark-like face as they licked their chops.

His rep in the League would take a hit, but he wasn’t above turning on them if it looked like they were going too far.

He could probably bluff it as not being able to aim well with the way they were all clumped together… They had a lot of guys crammed into one spot, after all. It wouldn’t be hard to throw hits and make it look like he’d hit them by accident. It might test how well he could talk his way out of trouble, but he’d be willing to give it a shot. He was a tough guy. He could handle taking hits from these guys.

There was a familiar rasping rumble above, and his eyes snapped up to one of the bartender’s portals opening above the water, and three bodies fell into the drink.

Kira squinted in confusion.

Those didn’t look like third years. He’d watched the sports festival last year, and he felt pretty confident that he knew what those brats looked like. Same for the second year, so that just left…

“Are you shitting me?!” Kira’s voice came out in a furious roar. “They sent us a bunch of firsties?”

Fuck no! He was not going to sit back and let these bastards kill a bunch of kids! They weren’t even in costume; it looked like they were just wearing their gym clothes. There was no way they were ready to actually fight, let alone against guys like these. Hell, he wasn’t even sure the brats knew how to throw a punch against an actual person.

His mind raced. He needed to get these guys to ditch the idea of fighting the kids. Fast.

He knew there were bastards here who got their jollies going after folks too weak to stop them. And a bunch of untrained firsties were exactly the kind of people they’d love to get their hands on to get some kicks. What would Sasakia tell him that he ought to do? The guy knew how to work people, how to use what they felt to get them to… What they felt…

Maybe there was something he could use then. Sasakia always said he was smarter than he gave himself credit for. (It was high time he proved the guy right.)

“Hey man, there’s no-” His head snapped to the guy who’d spoken with a furious snarl, ignoring the frog girl as she dragged herself and her classmates onto the half-sunken boat. They shrank away from his fury.

“Bullshit! I came to fight some fucking heroes! Not a bunch of snot-nosed brats that don’t even know how to throw a fucking punch!” He let out another furious snarl, tail thrashing in rage. He needed to be angry, but still make sense. Twist what was going on to fit what he wanted them to think. “I want a fucking knock-down-drag-out. I want to show them how strong I fucking am! Not to wail on a bunch of toddlers like some weak-ass coward. It’s a fucking insult!”

A few of the others started muttering to each other. Angry at the insult to their strength. Angry that the League was acting like they were too weak to handle a real fight.

“What’s it fucking matter? I want some blood, and I don’t give a rat’s ass who I get it from.” Kira snarled at shark-face.

“Oh, so you’re just gonna be a cheapass goon for the League? Hit whatever the boss tells you like a good little minion and hope you get a pat on the head for it?” Kira knew it was a cheap shot, but guys like that had tender egos. Aiming for that was his best shot, and making them think their bosses thought they were weak tended to work pretty well. Made it less about the kids and more about what the guys paying them thought.

If they got pissed enough, he could get them to take it to their bosses instead of going after the job they’d been given. And the sooner he used it to get them to back off from the brats, the better.

He was willing to take the heat instead for insulting them. He could handle it better than a bunch of kids.

Shark-face hissed at him and a few others started getting pissed. Whether at him or at the guys who hired them, he didn't care. He just needed them to get angry.

(Pissed off people made stupid choices and were easier to lead around.)

Frog girl watched from over the rails of the ship, and the grape-baby wailed in terror like, well, a baby. He had no idea what the third kid was thinking, since all he could see of them was a bunch of floating clothes. But they were keeping mostly quiet and keeping back from the rails of the ship.

“We can handle some heroes, so why the hell aren't we fighting any?” Another crook snapped, slapping the weapon he was holding against the water. “Why are we being sent a bunch of greenhorn brats?”

“Who cares?! We're here to cause chaos!”

“What?! So you're fine with being tossed weaklings? You too much of a wuss to take on real heroes?”

Kira grinned to himself as the goons around him started turning on each other and mentally patted himself on the back for a plan well executed.

He ducked beneath the waves, swimming around the side of the ship that was sunk into the waves. (And, conveniently, hidden from the goons he'd been grouped with.) He shot a small splash of water onto the deck, grabbing the kid's attention.

“Psst, hey, brats. Get over here. Before the mooks wise up.” He watched them creep closer to him, staying low down to avoid being spotted. “Grab on. I'm a fast swimmer; the sooner we get you to shore, the faster we get you out of blasting range.”

Frog Girl covered Grape-Baby’s mouth before he could get them caught by freaking out even more.

“Why are you helping us?” Okay, so Floating-Clothes was a girl. Good to know.

“I may be a criminal, but I have some fucking standards.” He gave them a grim smile, knowing how it made the scars on his muzzle stretch. “And killing kids is one low I don't plan on sinking to. Not in this lifetime. Now come on, we gotta move.”

Kira held a hand out, and he felt Floating-Clothes take it.

(Her hand was small.)

He moved her to his back, feeling her scramble to get purchase against his scales before finally getting a grip on his shirt, and listened carefully to the crooks on the other side of the boat fighting each other. So far, they hadn’t noticed that the brats had moved, but he wasn’t gonna count on it staying that way for much longer. He needed to get the kids to shore before then.

Frog Girl slipped into the water as easily as an actual frog, Grape Baby tucked under her arm like a football, and nodded at him.

“Deep breath, kid, we’ll be swimming under the surface so the goons don’t spot us.” He listened for the deep breath from the kid on his back before diving. Then he moved.

Swimming fast was easy; he was able to get the lot to the far shore without even getting properly winded, despite holding his breath as he swam. It was a part of his quirk he rarely ever used, and one he was proud of, even if he never talked about it. He was a damn good swimmer and diver, just like his Ma had always praised him for. But he’d always liked fighting more than swimming. (Hm. Maybe he needed to keep that in mind more. That could be useful for him to use while digging up dirt some time.)

He climbed out in a wooded space, barely noticing the weight of the now very soggy Floating-Clothes clinging to his shoulders as he did. The kid had a good grip; he’d give her that. Hadn’t come loose from him or fallen off once he’s come out.

“Alright, kid, climb off.” Kira looked over the wooded area. He didn’t know if it had a name, but it was closer to the middle of the place than he would have liked. He would have rather come out closer to the walls. They could have used that to sneak around the outside and get to the doors without being found before then. It would have made sneaking past the rest of the league a lot easier for him if they had. Bit of bum luck for that one.

Ah well, he could work with it. It was time they all bailed anyway. He pointed to where he thought the front doors were.

“I’m pretty sure that, if you follow the trees going that way, then they should get you back to the front doors. Ya might have to sneak around the plaza though. Most of the mooks’ll be focused on fighting and not much else, so if you keep quiet, you should be able to get past them.”

“W-what about you?” Floating-Clothes asked, her voice was worried. He could see her fussing with her hands nervously.

Man, of course, she was one of those stupid nice kids. Actually getting worried about an old crook like him after he did one nice thing for them.

“I’m gonna go the other way. Find the back door and leave through it instead. I may have helped you lot, but I’m still a crook who broke into this place. And I don’t plan on going to prison today.” He looked down at the brats and made a shooing motion with his hand. “Now scram. You need to move fast if you want to get the help your class needs.”

Kira didn’t wait for any of them to speak, just turning and running.

He just needed to find the back exit to the place. Everyone knew that places like this had emergency exits; he just needed to figure out where it was hidden. Maybe they put the exit in the same place they put the security? He scanned the walls, squinting to spot them through the chaos around him. Once he found the door, he could get out of the building he was in. He’d figure out where he needed to go from there. He was pretty sure UA’s gates only worked when you were trying to get in, not when you were trying to get out.

Obviously, the main gate would be out, but the smaller doors and gates were probably usable. Then again, for a school this big, he couldn’t discount the storm drains as an escape route. For a place this big, with all the fancy training areas they had, they probably had drains big enough for him to sneak away through. And his standards were low enough that he was willing to use them as long as he didn't end up arrested for this.

He grinned, finding the door at last. Simple and metal, it looked pretty average overall. It looked like the kind of emergency exit he’d see in an office building or a theater. That wasn’t a bad thing for him since doors like that were nice and easy to get open. At least, they were easy if you didn’t mind destroying them.

He dug his claws into the metal, fingers piercing through to get a good grip. Then the metal creaked loudly as he ripped the whole thing out. He casually tossed the now-wrecked door aside, peering into the much darker hallway on the other side. The lights were off, not just darker than the sunlight streaming in from the tall windowed dome above.

Oh, right, the league had a guy who was supposed to keep help from coming. He was probably in there to keep watch. Which meant the guy might have seen him rescuing the kids.

He frowned into the shadows.

That could be a problem for him later, since he was pretty sure the actual boss of the league didn’t come with them. If it was sent back to the guy, then that meant they would know that Kira wasn’t actually on their side. Or that he had standards that he put before his paycheck.

Sure, the Gamer-Shit came with them but Kira was pretty sure the guy wasn’t in charge. He was just a crazy, violent figurehead so that the mooks would have a face to look at. For something this big, something this well planned, there was no way he could believe that Gamer-Shit came up with it. He was way too impulsive and violent to do it. The big boss was someone else; he was sure of it.

Kira rolled his shoulders. Seemed his plans would change a little bit then.

First, he would take out Signal-Blocker and probably smash up the security room so that nothing could get back to the Big Boss. Then he would sneak out and see if he could sneak off the school’s campus without being caught.

(He had low standards, so he wasn’t against using the sewers or storm drains to get out. As long as he didn’t end up in cuffs, he didn’t care how he got out.)

A golden butterfly flitted past his head. He blinked, twisting to follow the butterfly’s path.

Good, Sasakia was watching.

He paused, brow furrowing in confusion.

Sasakia was watching? He didn’t work during the day, so why was one of his butterflies flying around? He didn’t do stuff that would get him special attention most of the time…

Kira looked up, eyes widening in shock as he took in the swarm of glowing butterflies fluttering through the air. More than he’d ever seen in his life. (And, yeah, he was a city kid so that was a low bar. But still.) He couldn't help stopping and watching the little lights dancing through the air, leaving glowing trails as they did. If he were the poetic type, he’d try to think up some fancy way of calling it beautiful. As it was, he couldn’t help stopping to just watch them, for just a few moments.

Kira shook off the awe. He needed to focus. He had something he needed to do before he could leave. And, no matter how well he got along with Sasakia, he didn’t plan on getting arrested because the guy distracted him without meaning to. He didn’t plan on leaving this place in cuffs today.

He walked into the dark hall, listening carefully for movement as he did. He needed to make sure he was the one who got the drop on Signal-Blocker and not the other way around.

He heard something get knocked over and grinned.

Found you.

He stalked forward. He’d been ready to knock some heads for a while before he’d found out they’d wanted him to fight a bunch of kids. It would be good to finally act on that against someone he didn’t mind beating into the floor.

He walked up to the fanciest door in the dark hall, placed in a way that showed its importance. His money said that was the security control room. Which, if he had to guess, was probably where the signal jammer was hiding. And, since he was the one keeping the school security from coming in and busting them, it was actually smart of them to make the guy wait in a place where he couldn’t be knocked out by one of the brats by accident.

He casually broke the door, crushing the handle in one hand and ripping it off the hinges with a single shove of his shoulder.

The squirrely man he remembered seeing days ago was standing in front of the camera screens. A tiny, little man who twitched a lot and watched in quiet, vicious delight whenever the crooks around him started fighting and trying to tear each other apart. Who would quietly egg on the fights just so he could watch the bloodshed but whined and whimpered the instant anyone focused on him. Kira had decided quickly that he hated the pest, and this was just more fuel for that opinion.

The shrimp spun around, eyes wide with terror as he stumbled back against the console behind him. He didn’t remember the guy’s name, if he’d ever been introduced in the first place.

“W-W-Wanaguchi! Wh-what are you doing?! You-you’re supposed to be killing-” Kira let out a deep, hissing growl, making the little man freeze in fear.

“A bunch of kids? I don’t play that way. I signed up to fight some pro-heroes, not to kill a bunch of brats.” He slowly stalked forward, his height making him loom menacingly over the shimpy man who was the only thing keeping the heroes from knowing what was happening inside the walls of their school.

The guys’ eyes were glowing. The last time he saw the guy, his eyes weren’t glowing. If Kira had to guess, it had to do with his quirk. So he probably had to focus on making the signal jamming thing keep working and that was one the reasons he was secreted away instead of getting dropped into the battlefield. Now, how best to stop it… Eh, he might as well go with the easiest.

“The League ain’t too high on my priority list anyway. I got other folks that I prefer.” The little man’s eyes widened in a mix of fear and realization.

“You-you’re a traitor! You’re gonna sell us out! You’ll never-”

Kira’s hand seized him around the neck, covering his mouth with ease because of just how small the man was. He made sure to grip tight enough to lift him up, but not enough to do serious, permanent harm to him. He only needed enough to scare him. Enough to make him scared of Kira.

“Yeah, I am. Not for the heroes, though. I got somebody else I follow,” Kira said, his tone lazy and calm. Then he gave a cold, dangerously vicious smile. “But you won’t be getting the chance to rat me out.”

With one swift move, he slammed the jammer’s head against the wall and knocked him out. He dropped him, letting the dead weight crumple to the floor.

Kira watched them for a moment, waiting to make sure the guy was out before he continued his work. He gave a pleased nod when there was no sign of the guy getting up. Better still, he could hear the computers start making noises that they hadn’t been making before. He was fairly sure one of them was the intruder alarms finally starting to go off. He was sure the kids were relieved about finally hearing them. It meant help was coming, and that was good for them.

He could also see the wild swarm of butterflies all swooping to the center of the building through the computer screens. He wondered what was up with that. Maybe Sasakia was using them to be a distraction? It would probably work well, considering how bright the little suckers were.

He hummed, looking around the room and thinking carefully about how to proceed. He couldn’t stick around for long now that the alarms were finally going off.

First, he’d rip out some wires from the ceiling to tie up the jammer. Those were usually nice and long, so they should do the job to keep the guy down until the heroes could pick him up. Then he’d get to work finding where the camera that saw him in the water was and getting rid of the video. The kids might tell their teachers, but making sure the League couldn’t confirm it would keep him off the radar.

It probably wouldn’t be good to just smash the computers in case anyone genuinely in the League managed to escape. The heroes might need the footage to find them later on if they did get away. He just needed to get rid of any recording that had seen him. Which meant he needed to find which camera specifically caught him and delete the footage from it.

He sighed. He should have paid more attention in computer class when he was in school. He’d just have to give it his best shot.

The things he did these days…

They went the wrong way.

That was the only thing Toru could really put together at the moment.

The nice crook (not a villain, she couldn't see him as one when she had the other villains in the USJ to compare him against), the alligator man who'd helped Tsuyu, Minetta and herself to safety, had pointed to the plaza and told them they could sneak around to get to the front doors before he'd run toward the outer walls of the USJ to find a different exit.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time! She was good at sneaking! Tsuyu was quiet too! Minetta was panicking, but he'd gotten a lot quieter once they'd gotten to shore.

They should have been able to do it.

But when they'd gotten to the plaza…

It had been awful.

Aizawa-sensei had been holding his own for a while, but he was getting tired. And it had gotten him hurt. Worse than hurt!

Toru stared, a hand covering her mouth in horror, at the bloodied, broken form of her homeroom teacher. Looking barely conscious as he hung limply from the hand of the giant purple villain who looked more like a monster from a slasher film than a human. It towered over them all, the scars that covered it glowing unnaturally against its purple skin, its eyes too round and its brain fully exposed for all to see. The leader, gaunt and pale and wearing what looked eerily like real, genuine severed human hands all over his body as he talked, gloated, at them all.

She suddenly understood.

She understood why Aizawa-sensei was always so hard on them all. Why he made himself so scary. Why he was so strict about them taking the class seriously. Why he pushed for them to pay attention and to listen to everything he and the other teachers were telling them about Hero Work. Part of it might have been to scare them, but part of it was this.

He was trying to keep them safe. Because villains like these existed.

Villains like the terrifying purple monster and the creepy hand villain. Villains who laughed as they shattered the limbs of the heroes who tried to fight them. Villains who enjoyed causing pain and fear. Villains who weren't afraid to kill a bunch of kids. (Like her class.)

She trembled, her feet frozen in place, as the leader moved. It felt like there was a single blink between him standing in the stone plaza and when he was in front of them. Suddenly, he was reaching out for Tsuyu’s head. Reaching to press his hand over her face and activate the quirk he had used to hurt their teacher. The same quirk they had just seen destroy their teacher's elbow and splatter blood on the ground.

Nothing happened.

Nothing happened?

Her eyes slid back to Aizawa-sensei. Her breath caught painfully in her chest at the sight of a single glowing, red eye peeking out from matted, bloody hair. A glowing red eye that was locked onto the villain.

Sensei had stopped the quirk. He'd stopped the man from hurting Tsuyu. But he wouldn't be able to hold it. (Not for long.)

Advice from Izuku and Hitoshi echoed in her ears, from one of their morning study sessions.

She wasn't sure how they'd gotten on the topic, but they had gone from chatting about hero students not having a gym block to self-defense, and the kinds of things Hitoshi and Izuku had learned in their self-defense classes. She had lamented that she should have taken more classes like theirs before attending UA, instead of just doing cheerleading in middle school. She could do all kinds of great acrobatics, she was a decent flyer, but she only knew a few basics for to not hurt herself if she got in a fight.

So she had asked for any advice they could give her.

She’d expected them to tell her a few moves she could try, a style she could look up that might work for her. Something like that. But that wasn’t how things had gone. An expression she had never seen before appeared on Izuku's face as he looked at her from over his personal notebook, stopping whatever fun research he was doing.

“If you ever end up in a situation where you’re in danger, and I mean real danger and not just a training exercise gone wrong, take any shot you can get. Especially if you're not acting as a hero.” His face had been deathly serious as he spoke to her. “A criminal, a villain, is just fighting to stay out of jail. But in that dark alley? In that isolated warehouse? You're fighting for your life.”

She had been startled as Hitoshi nodded along, his face equally serious. Everyone she had known told her about dojos and fighting styles she'd need in order to fight and capture villains. Everything she needed to learn and study to be able to be a hero. No one had ever told her something like that before.

Izuku had been frowning as he'd continued.

“Claw their eyes out, jam your elbow in their ribs hard enough to leave them gasping, kick them like you're trying to get the winning goal in a national football game; do whatever it takes to get away, whatever you need to do to keep yourself safe. Go for it. Making it out safely is more important than having an honorable fight.”

Hitoshi had taken that as his cue to speak up, leaning against the table as he twirled a pencil between his fingers and his face was just as serious as Izuku’s.

“Yeah. If it's for your life, anything goes. Some jerks will get huffy about it, but they're not the ones fighting. Honestly, if they do start trying to talk shit about you protecting yourself, then their either stupid or someone who’s just as dangerous to you. So take the cheap shot, aim for the 'dishonorable’ hits, knock whomever you’re fighting down hard. As long as you get out, their opinions don't matter.”

She had never thought of it like that, but part of that might have just been because she’d never thought too much about self-defense before. Everyone she had talked to before had talked about the techniques and martial styles, what kinds of skills you needed to pin someone or counter their quirks. That kind of thing.

But, she had supposed after talking about it for a little while longer, sometimes that wasn't an option. There wasn’t always a hero or a police officer nearby. Not every villain would just give up if a hero appeared in front of them. Sometimes, you just had to do whatever you could.

Seeing her bloodied teacher, seeing the hand on Tsuyu's face… She finally got it. She finally knew what they had meant.

She stopped thinking and moved.

Toru lunged, seizing the villain's wrist and wrenching it away from Tsuyu's face while he was looking back at Aizawa-sensei, getting that dangerous quirk away from her friend. She used the running start to kick him between the legs as hard as she could, the softest and most sensitive place she could think of to hit. (Just like Izuku and Hitoshi had told her to do.)

The man let out a shout that was a good octave higher than it had been before, staggering back from them in pain and almost falling to the ground.

Some vague part of her registered Minetta studdering something out behind her. She didn't care about what he had to say. Fairness didn't matter as long as they made it out alive. Minetta could whine and wail all he wanted, it wouldn't help them. Because their teachers weren’t there yet, they wouldn’t be there for who knew how long. So they needed to fight. They needed to fight for their lives.

Her chest hurt from the painful, shaking breaths she was taking, staring at the villain through blurry eyes. Terrified tears dripped down her cheeks, unseen but hot against her skin. (She had to fight back. She had to; they wouldn't make it out if she didn't.)

“Bitch! You- How dare-” The man's voice was higher now, tone spiking from the successful hit she'd made. But she could still hear the unbridled fury.

Then there was a surge of amethyst and gold that shot between them and the villain, the swarm of glowing butterflies that she had seen building in the USJ's plaza descending onto Aizawa-sensei like a giant, living cloud of light and almost blinding them all despite the bright sunshine.

The monster let out an unearthly screech, like it had been burned by an impossible flame, dropping their teacher and pulling away.

And it looked like- like he was standing up? But how? Sensei had been hurt so badly, there was no way he could be standing on his own…

The fluttering lights scattered, with only a few golden butterflies flitting around before vanishing into nothing, and a stranger stood in Aizawa-sensei's place.

The stranger stood tall, maybe even as tall as All Might, towering over almost everyone there. She could see dark grey armor over their chest, beneath a capture scarf that looked just like Aizawa-sensei’s and a similar black jumpsuit to the hero’s under both. She could see that their (his?) suit had a few patterned stripes on it, though the colors were muted down to almost blend in with the black of the jumpsuit. She had no idea if the pattern meant something, but to her, it looked like little interlocking dashes of color. (If it weren’t for how scared she was right then, she would have thought the pattern was pretty.) And they had a golden-yellow utility belt that looked like Aizawa-sensei’s belt.

He had six arms, with sturdy-looking bracer-gauntlets on each one and some kind of bladed spikes on the armor for the back of the hands. He had shin armor too secured over his boots. She thought they were called greaves? Since they protected the knees as well as the shins. Both the shin armor and the gauntlets were the same dark grey-black color as the chest armor.

His hair was tightly bound back in a bun; some chunks even looked like they'd been braided to help gather them up and secure them. A large yellow-tinted, bubble-like goggles over the upper half of his face helped shield his head and eyes from harm. And she could see not one, not two, but five eyes behind the lens. Five eyes that abruptly snapped open and fixed on not only her, but her classmates and the villains in the USJ’s plaza.

The eyes abruptly narrowed.

The stranger leapt forward far faster than she had ever seen someone move, getting a small, startled gasp from Toru as she stumbled back. Her hands reflexively raised to defend herself in a sloppy stance she’d picked up from her friends. But no hit came.

Instead, she found herself staring at his back as he lashed out at the hand villain, forcing the villain further away from her and her classmates. He stood solidly between them and the man who'd tried to attack Tsuyu. Like a tall, multi-armed barrier shielding them from harm.

She swallowed around the lump in her throat. This person was trying to protect her; he had to be. Why else would he throw himself between her and the villain leader? And at the same time, he looked familiar. He looked different but… Enough of him still looked the same that she couldn’t help thinking that- That this was her teacher. This tall, six-armed, five-eyed man was actually her previously injured teacher.

Was she crazy? Or was this really- ?

“Ai- Aizawa-sensei?” Her voice trembled as she spoke. The man's head turned just enough for a single eye to look back at her while the rest remained focused on the villains.

“Hagakure, Asui, Minetta, get ready to run. I'll try to make an opening for you three to get to the front doors.” He kept his voice low to prevent the villains from hearing him properly. And she recognised it.

It was Aizawa-sensei's voice. This was Aizawa-sensei!

But how? How could he move so easily with four more arms than he’d been born with? How could he see with three more eyes without trouble? How could he move with the weight of armor that he hadn’t had before?

“What- Who- Who the hell are you?!” One of the villains yelled, staring wide-eyed at the man in front of them all.

Aizawa-sensei hummed, a strange light flashing over his face. It hovered over his face like a mask in a thin, glowing purple line in the shape of a butterfly with round wings. (Right, it was the butterflies that did this… Was it a quirk? Was someone else trying to help them? Was it a villain that had turned on the league, like the crocodile man?)

“At the moment? I am called Erasure Anansi,” Aizawa-sensei’s- no, Erasure Anasi's voice dipped into a growl, all five eyes shifting to glare at the still standing villains. “And you won’t be getting away, not after the danger you've put my students in.”

Chapter Text

This should have been a normal heroics class. Shouta had expected it to be one.

All Might getting distracted and screwing up his time limit was irritating, but it was something he thought that he and Thirteen could handle. That just made it a normal Pre-All Might class, as far as he was concerned. (Just without Nemuri or Hizashi giving their own commentary about the USJ.)

They were experienced teachers, and they’d already gone over the plan for the day thoroughly. They were supposed to introduce the students to the USJ, give them a tour of the locations, and explain the kind of things they’d be working on there. Then they’d pick a location and give them all some lessons on rescue and how they could use their quirks to help people in danger. As well as making the kids think about how their costumes might affect their work outside of combat.

Considering how many of the students in his class seemed to focus on Villain Captures, they needed the reality check that Rescue training would give. Forcing them to use their quirks in a situation where there was no direct enemy for them to fight would give them a challenge that they’d been ignoring for too long.

(There were definitely a few who needed that reality check.)

Losing their third teacher due to his inability to manage his time properly was annoying, but it was manageable. At least, for an experienced pair of teachers like Thirteen and himself. The loss wouldn't even be noticeable to the students. Things should have gone fine.

Then the villains appeared.

He had yelled for the students to run; they were facing real villains and not a simulation or a training exercise. He yelled for Thirteen to get everyone out while he held them off. Then he’d dived in and fought with everything he had.

Shouta hadn’t expected to win. It was unfortunate, but true. And something he would never allow the students to realise. They were young and determined and too sure of their own power and skills. They would try to help him fight, and possibly lose their lives in the process. He had to fight alone and seem confident enough that they would trust his words and try to escape.

The fight was everything he didn’t do. It was a bright day out, all parties were in the open, and he was fighting an entire crowd and not just a handful of villains.  He worked in ambush conditions, not open street brawls.

And he was only human; there was a limit to what he could do before exhaustion won out. There was only so long he could fight before he finally fell. His body, his quirk, had limits. It was something he’d known when he jumped in. All he could do was buy the students time to escape. But that had fallen apart the moment the leader had joined the fray. He’d held his own until then, but the moment the leader had displayed just how observant he was, Shouta knew he was running out of time.

And then he commanded the monster to step in.

It was too fast. It was too powerful. He had gathered from its immense form and the way it had stayed back that it was powerful. But the moment it entered the fray, there was no way he could have beaten it.

It had been made to fight All Might, according to the leader of the villains, so how could he have the ability to fight it off? They said it was genetically engineered to kill him…

Then the disintegration villain tried to target his students, who had been unlucky enough to stumble to the edge of the plaza. Despite the pain he was in, despite the crushed arms, the shattered leg, the broken ribs, the cracks in his skull that he was sure were there, there was no way in hell he would do nothing.

(He was a Pro Hero. It was his job not to stand by and do nothing.)

His eyes burned, but his quirk was the only thing that could stop the villain and keep him from killing Asui. (He knew the pain of that quirk’s effect. He’d felt it. He refused to let them feel it too.)

There was a flutter of glowing purple and gold in the corner of his eye, but he didn't dare try to turn his head. Not that he really could, not with the monster clutching his head in its giant, far too powerful grip.

The hand villain (the mist villain called him “Shigaraki”) was too close to his students. And all of them were out of his reach. His body was broken by the… Thing that the villains brought with them. He would never get to them in time. As much as he wanted to break loose, as much as he wanted to put himself between the villain and the students, as much as he wanted to keep them safe, he simply couldn’t.

His eyes, his quirk, were all he had to keep them safe. But if the thing holding him knocked him out, if something blocked his line of sight…

God no, please no. They were children!

“Eraserhead-sama.”

A voice echoed in his head, a voice that he instinctively knew wasn't his own, and he felt as though time had slowed to a crawl. There was only one person he knew of (currently) in Musutafu in possession of a quirk with a telepathy element. A certain vigilante informant he’d been working with on and off for the past year, who whispered secrets and warnings to heroes through glowing butterflies smaller than a person’s hand. Shouta had been trying to figure out his identity for a while, if only so he could finally have a face to put to the very useful informant.

(Though his attempts had been half-hearted due to the lack of leads on his possible identity. And his hunch that the young man was barely a legal adult.)

Sasakia had warned the school that rumours were going around in the deepest parts of the underground, hadn't he? That someone was trying to gather forces, recruiting from various districts. And that they were potentially planning to target a hero school in the area, though he hadn’t been sure which one at the time. He’d warned them that they needed to up their defenses to protect their students.

Yet, despite the warning, they'd only done the minimum to upgrade the school’s defenses for the new school year. Many of them viewing the addition of All Might to the staff as being enough protection already, even if they never put it in those words.

A grave mistake, he now knew.

There was a flutter of light, and the distant sound of someone yelping in pain, and suddenly he wasn't lying limp in the hand of the monster anymore. A forgotten reflex made him gasp in alarm, his arms scrambling to catch himself before he could hit the ground. He managed it, barely.

It didn’t hurt.

He blinked, staring at his unmangled arms in confusion. It didn’t hurt? What?

Shouta’s fingers dug into the soft green grass underneath him. Soft grass that did not look like the grass in the USJ. Grass that he shouldn’t have been in, considering he had last been over the broken cement of the plaza.

What the hell.

He looked up. This was not the USJ.

It looked like he was in a forest clearing of some kind in the late evening, based on the dim light and thick shadows in the distance. A forest that had been set up for some kind of celebration or gathering, like some kind of high fantasy-themed garden party.

He slowly pushed himself to his feet, eyes scanning his surroundings in a mix of wariness and confusion. Was this some kind of illusion? Something to mess with his head and distract him? (But why employ it on him now? Why not when he had been desperately fending off the horde of villains earlier?)

Several of the trees looked as though they were wrapped in fairy lights, many of them hanging from their branches in glittering strings. Glowing golden and amethyst lanterns hung from lines between the trees and casting a soft glow over the open ground. There were tables set up with golden tablecloths, red and orange colored candles sitting in the center, and fancy chairs with swirling purple cushions neatly pushed in, as if waiting for guests to appear and take a seat.

The far side of the clearing had something that looked like a gazebo, but… He squinted slightly. Were those bookshelves inside it? He was pretty sure that was what he was seeing. Maybe it was less of a gazebo and more of an unusually shaped study-shed then.

The bushes around the edges of the clearing were flowering with bright, glowing, crystal-like blooms, despite the darkness and stars he could faintly see in the sky above. They almost didn’t look like real flowers, because of their strange shapes and glow. Yet many of them were being visited by the fluttering shapes of white and yellow butterflies. A glittering floor in purple and yellow swirls was laid out in the middle of the clearing, a bit like a dance floor that had been laid out for the party. And, at its center, a figure stood patiently waiting for him to get his bearings…

There didn’t seem to be anyone else there, which left him with few options other than walking toward the figure.

They were a teenager, he was sure. Possibly eighteen or nineteen years old (twenty if he really stretched it) and definitely male.

The young man was dressed in shades of purple and violet, with the occasional yellow/gold trim adding another layer of color to the getup. It was surprisingly fancy-looking and possibly historically inspired, considering some of the details. He couldn’t place the era, or the country, but something about it looked French or at least French-inspired to him.

(A vague memory of a foreign historical fantasy movie that either Nemuri or Hizashi had insisted he watch with them tickled at the back of his mind, but he just couldn't recall what it was.)

He was wearing a pale violet flowy shirt with double sleeves, the darker hanging sleeve shimmering with a golden butterfly wing pattern on the inside. The ends of the puffy sleeves of the undershirt were tucked into thick, dark gloves trimmed in gold. A dark, purple vest (was it a vest? Or was it a jacket attached to the outer sleeves?) was being worn over the shirt, gold patterns embroidered into it in the form of flowing swirls. There was a caplet wrapped over his shoulders, pinned closed with a butterfly-shaped brooch with a large gemstone in its center. Fitted pants in the same color as the puffed shirt were tucked into dark boots with small heels, the lace-like decorations on them looking like butterfly wings.

He was wearing a wide-brimmed hat with one side pinned up with a hat-pin shaped like a pale violet butterfly. Long, wavy-looking black hair that was tied back in a simple ponytail at the base of his head. His face was hidden by a mask that was in the shape of a rounded butterfly, unlike the other butterflies on his costume, which had long, pointed wings. Green eyes peered at him from beneath the shadow of the hat’s brim, a cane of some kind clutched tightly in one of his hands.

The young man gave him a strained, tense smile.

“Good day, Eraserhead-sama. I wish we could have had a face-to-face meeting under better circumstances.” He knew that voice. At least, he knew it enough to recognise it.

So this was the mysterious Sasakia. It seemed his initial guesses about the informant’s age hadn’t been too far off the mark.

(And the kid had a theme. Although, considering the form his quirk took, he may not have felt like he had much of a choice on that. Butterflies matched more butterflies.)

“What is this? Where have you brought me?” He wasn’t going to bother beating around the bush. Not after the day he’d already had. Sasakia inclined his head, a quiet chuckle escaping him.

“I haven’t taken you anywhere, Eraserhead-sama. You are still in the USJ, maintaining your quirk to keep the villain called Shigaraki at bay. Physically, at least.” The informant raised an arm, gesturing to the clearing around them. “This is a world of the mind, one that I’ve created for times like this.”

Shouta looked around at the dark clearing in a new light. This place was a mental construct? Sasakia had made it? That explained why he was able to walk around and wasn’t in crippling pain anymore. He didn’t think of his injuries as part of him, so they obviously wouldn’t appear in a place like this. The green-eyed man continued.

“I can only bring someone here under… Specific circumstances, unfortunately. I can’t call someone in whenever I feel like it, not without having called them in previously. But please rest assured, everything here happens at a different rate than the outside. You could spend hours here, and find that less than a millisecond had passed in the physical world.” There was a firm look on his face as he looked up at the underground hero. (The kid was shorter than him, so he was less than six feet tall.) “You’re students are still being protected by your quirk. This isn’t putting them in danger.”

That… That was comforting, in a strange way. But why did Sasakia bring him here? How was be even able to make this? 

“Is this the fullest form of your quirk?” He couldn’t help asking. Was Sasakia’s usual telepathy actually an offshoot of this? Being able to create a mental world to converse in secret, at the speed of thought… It was no wonder that no one had managed to figure out his quirk before.

Depending on how much he had known when his quirk was first registered, the scale of what he was capable of might not actually be on record. And they only allowed for the records to be changed a handful of times before they stopped allowing someone to update them. If he had reached the maximum number of times it could be changed, or found the paperwork too much of a hassle to keep doing, then he may not have bothered to register it fully. There were actually more quirks like that than people realised. It would be damn-near impossible to find his identity through that venue.

Sasakia drummed his fingers against the head of his cane, eye sliding around the clearing with an air of quiet nervousness. The action was so small that, if he wasn’t trained to look for such things, Shouta wouldn’t have noticed it.

“Yes and no. This is an aspect of my powers, but it’s not… Well, it’s not the full scope. That-” The young man hesitated, both hands resting on the cane. Then he looked up, green eyes boring into his own. “That is the reason why I have brought you here, Eraserhead-sama.”

Shouta frowned at that. The informant seemed to take the silence as permission to continue.

“The villains that have broken into the USJ… My warning wasn’t enough; I had no idea they had a warper as powerful as the mist-villain at their disposal. If I had realised the extent of their powers, or where they’d intended to strike, I would have pushed harder to help everyone be prepared. The students have managed to fight back well enough. Many of them have even succeeded in their battles in the areas they were scattered to, but I’m not sure how much longer they can last.”

That was both comforting and concerning. He was somewhat lucky, he supposed, that so many of his class were already combat-trained. Even if it made them a pain to keep under control most of the time. He didn’t want to think of what the casualty rate would have been if they had come without any prior training. But he had been mangled by the purple villain. He couldn’t get up and help them. He wasn’t even sure how much longer he would be able to stay conscious once Sasakia severed whatever connection he was using to bring him there. (He wasn’t even sure he would survive this…)

Shouta gritted his teeth in frustration. He was supposed to be keeping those kids safe. He had a responsibility to make sure they were okay.

“Which is why I wanted to speak to you, out of everyone there. I believed that you would at least listen to what I had to say.” Shouta supposed that made sense. He was the only one Sasakia actually ‘knew’ in the USJ, and the only one who knew the vigilante in turn. So if he wanted to do something, the hero would be the most likely to hear him out without accusing him of siding with the villains. “I want to offer you my power, Eraserhead-sama, to fight these villains.”

“Your power?” He asked, brow furrowing in confusion. Sasakia nodded.

“I said that it took special circumstances to bring someone here. That’s because I use a different version of my butterflies to create the connection, and it allows for far more than just thoughts to be exchanged.” He lifted a hand, and one of the glowing golden butterflies swooped down to rest on his fingers.

It was a pure gold, as if it had been crafted from light, like many of Sasakia’s other butterflies in the clearing. And Shouta watched as the tiny, palm-sized butterfly changed.

He watched as the little insect seemed to crackle with power, swirls of amethyst mixing in with the gold. It looked like marbled paint, but glowed as bright as a glass figurine placed over a lamp. It radiated light and something else that he couldn’t put into words. It made his breath catch in his chest, almost unable to look away from the otherworldly glow it gave off. An invisible pressure that echoed off the insect resting on the vigilante’s fingertips.

He could practically feel the power radiating from the little butterfly, and he wasn’t even touching it.

“This, Eraserhead-sama, is a kamiko. It has a tremendous amount of power in it, as much as I’ve used to make this place. More, even. And I want to offer that power to you.” He tore his eyes away to look at the teenager himself.

“How- How would this help me? I’m injured.” More power would mean nothing if he couldn’t even stand up to use it.

“Taking the kamiko will trigger a transformation, a temporary one, to let you use the power being granted to it’s fullest. It will change your form to help make the power easier and more effective for you to use, thus bypassing the injuries you’d sustained while fighting,” Sasakia explained while gently cradling the butterfly, the kamiko, in the palm of his hand. It’s wings fluttered, letting off sparks like a tiny campfire. “Both you and I can set criteria for what form the power takes, the form of the kamiko you will become, based on what we think is needed and what you think you can use.”

In any other circumstance, he would have thought it was being made up. There was no way something like this would have that kind of effect. Except, looking at the butterfly, feeling the pressure in his senses just from being near it…

He believed it. He believed that Sasakia was telling the truth.

His jaw set.

“What do I need to know about this? How do we set the criteria?”

“A verbal agreement is enough to solidify the connection and transformation. Of both the goal we want to attain and how much you are willing to allow me to do.” The answer came fast. Strange as it was.

“How much I am…?” Shouta asked, frowning at the teen.

“I can add a great deal of powers and abilities to a kamiko, but I’m limited by what the person being transformed is willing to allow me to give. I’m, well, quite creative about what’s possible with a quirk. And how far one can stretch a definition of a power. But if it’s something you wouldn’t want or don't think you could work with, then I cannot give it to you.” Sasakia explained, fingers drumming against the cane again. (It looked like he was a fidgeter. He knew several people like that.)

So he could either have total control of how it went, partial input on what would happen, or he could let Sasakia have full creative liberty. Shouta preferred the second option if he was being honest with himself. He wasn’t very creative himself, but he wasn’t comfortable leaving this “kamiko” entirely in the vigilante’s hands. He wasn’t quite comfortable leaving himself entirely in the vigilante’s hands.

(Sasakia gave very good information, but there was a difference between trusting information and trusting raw power.)

“I… Suppose I would rather have something similar to my quirk, but enhanced to a further degree? I’m already familiar with how to use it with my fighting style, and I would prefer to keep my capture weapon as my main tool. Maybe a psychic element that would let me more freely control it?” Something familiar would do the best, he felt. If he already knew the base, then whatever Sasakia added would be easy to adapt to.

Sasakia nodded, frowning slightly in thought. He could practically hear the gears turning in the informant’s head as he plotted.

“Are you against having any kind of armor?”

“I’ve never found any that work well with my fighting style, but if you can think of something, then I’ll take it.” He didn’t expect him to succeed. His style was a very agile one, and he’d never found an armor that he could use comfortably. Not without it being far out of his financial range to acquire, at least. If this could, somehow, make something that would work for the fight though… He would be willing to try it. Even if it was only for a short while.

Actually, while he was on that track.

“You said the transformation was temporary?” Temporary meant there was a limit, either for how long Shouta could withstand it or how long the power would stick around. He’d need to know what that was for this fight.

“Yes. The transformation has a hard time limit, one that's set by me. There's a thread of power that I must maintain to ensure the connection is able to work and that you stay a kamiko. There is a way around that limit, but it requires some… Preparation on my end. Which I did not have time for before all this started.” He hesitated, a flicker of something in his face. It was gone too fast for Shouta to catch what it was this time. “At the moment, that limit is, unfortunately, only fifteen minutes. So you must either capture and defeat the villains or evacuate your students in that time.”

That wasn't much time, but he could make it work. He’d worked under tighter time crunches for a mission before. He'd just have to focus on the students and clearing a safe path to the front doors as much as he could. Trying to capture the villains would come second to their safety.

He nodded. The informant smiled, the smallest waver to the edge of it.

“Eraserhead-sama, will you accept this power that I offer you? The power to become a kamiko, for a short time, to ensure the safety of the students in your care?” Something in Sasakia’s tone sounded different, some new layer to the words that he hadn’t had before.

Right, he said it needed to be a verbal agreement earlier. The change must be him activating that aspect. Shouta took a (probably unnecessary) breath before he answered.

“I accept the power and the conditions set.”

The kamiko that had previously been resting in Sasakia’s hand started fluttering, then seemed to bolt in a streak of light toward him. He’d jolted slightly, taking a reflexive half-step back before it landed on his capture scarf and seemed to merge with the tool he always wore. Cloudy grey eyes met bright forest green ones.

And he was again blinded by swirls of gold and amethyst.

There was pressure against his head (the monster had been gripping his head, hadn’t it), but it was gone just as fast. A strange screech echoed in the air, though he was unbothered by it. He managed to catch himself before he could hit the ground, instinct reminding him of the position he’d been in prior. Villains were shouting in shock and alarm, but it barely registered in his mind.

He could feel the ghost of the pain he’d felt previously returning, but it was quickly washed away by warmth.

It felt like he was lying under the sun on a cloudless spring day, or under the stars on a hot summer night. Everything was soaking in until he could feel it in his very bones, flooding his veins with strength and chasing away the paralyzing pain he had previously been fighting his way past to remain conscious. The pain and sting of his injuries, the weariness and exhaustion of his sleepless nights, all of it was near-instantly burned away by the new light weaving its way through his being.

He breathed deeply in, pushing himself to his feet. Silently relishing in how good he felt as he did. How refreshed and alive he felt as he rose up to his full height.

He felt… Different. Stronger, more rested. There was new input from his body, new sensations registering in his mind, which should have thrown him off. Made him wildly uncomfortable in his own skin, but he felt fine. Almost better than fine. It was the best he’d felt in years.

His eyes snapped open, fixing on the shocked villains and students as they gaped at him. Then they narrowed at the sight of the hand villain still standing so close to the students. (The man was oddly hunched. He must have missed something in the scant few seconds it had taken for the transformation to take hold.)

He lunged forward, lashing out at the villain to properly force him away from Hagakure. He firmly planted his feet between the students and the villains.

“Ai- Aizawa-sensei?” Hagakure’s voice trembled as she spoke. (Because she was scared, because he was a child, because it was too soon for her and her class to face something like this.) He turned just enough for one of his many eyes to shift and focus on her.

“Hagakure, Asui, Minetta, get ready to run. I’ll try to make an opening for you three to get to the front doors,” he said, keeping his voice low to prevent the villains around them from hearing. If they could get to Thirteen, as well as their classmates, then they would finally get the doors open and escape. He could hear the USJ’s alarm finally going off and, with any luck, that meant the rest of the school’s faculty was on its way.

If he were really lucky, though he wouldn’t put his money on it, then the staff would arrive long before the fifteen minutes he had were up. He could feel the mix of relief and determination from Sasakia as he looked at the scene through Shouta’s eyes.

(Somehow, he knew the other could do that now. He’d had the vague impression during previous conversations, but now it felt… More certain. Sasakia could see and hear everything he did.)

“What- Who- Who the hell are you?!” One of the villains yelled, stuttering as they did. He could hear Sasakia chuckle in the back of his mind.

“You already know what name to give, say it aloud. It is the final key.” The vigilante’s words echoed through his head, calmer and more confident than he had been before. The name slotted into place in his mind, like it was genuinely meant to be his while in this form. He knew who he was still; he was Aizawa Shouta, the underground Pro-Hero Eraserhead. This was just another name to add to that.

“At the moment? I am Erasure Anansi.” The new name rolled off his tongue with ease, fitting his form and face like it was meant to. His voice then dipped into a growl as he glared at the villains in the plaza. “And you won’t be getting away, not after the danger you’ve put my students in.”

Part of him said he should have felt wildly different. New eyes, new limbs, a new body. He should have been panicking about what Sasakia's power had done to him. How it had radically changed him in the span of a few seconds, at most. Another part was calm, saying that he was still himself despite it and that he had more important things to put his mind to. Like the villains who had invaded the school grounds and threatened the students under his protection.

He decided to listen to the calm part of himself.

The hand villain stared at him, then started chuckling. There was a hysterical note to the laughter.

“What was that? What was that?! A cheat code? There wasn't supposed to be a second stage to the miniboss! It's… A cool upgrade, very cool.” The villain seemed to stop and stare again, still letting out more stilted laughter. Fury started seeping into the strange mix of awe and hysteria in his words. “But you're not supposed to get upgrades. That's not how it works. That's not how it works!”

The shadowy, mist-like villain (Kurogiri, as the leader had called him earlier) hovered by the apparent leader's side, seeming to eye Erasure Anansi more cautiously than he had before.

“The leader is young, inexperienced and impulsive. He doesn't care about the army he's brought with him; they're cannon fodder as far as he’s concerned. He only cares about keeping the warper and the… Monster on his side by the sounds of it.” Sasakia's reading came fast, working with rapid observations gleaned through the limited view he likely had so far. (It was impressive how much he could glean on such short notice.) “His quirk looks to be some kind of rapid disintegration. Possibly an extreme dehydration of cells? It seems like he needs all five of his fingers to make contact for it to activate, and he's not immune to it either. He's being careful while scratching at the back of his neck. It would be possible to disable his quirk for a longer period, even after his arrest, but… Well, it wouldn't be pleasant.”

Disable his quirk? He already had Erasure at his disposal. But he said it would be disabled even after the arrest. Had the effect of his quirk been extended? Did it have a time limit on the affected person now? Something told him that wasn’t right. Unless…

Unless Sasakia was suggesting that he should break one of the villain's fingers? It would probably work, even if he wasn't fond of the idea. It was a little brutal, as far as most of his fights went, but a valid strategy considering the level of violence the villain had shown he was capable of so far. If he was willing to attack a group of students, there was no telling what he would do to escape an officer who couldn’t suppress his quirk.

“The Warper seems loyal, but highly submissive. He can act on his own, make his own decisions about what he does and doesn’t want to do, but their leader is his priority. He doesn't care what happens to the others or about going out of his way to target the students. He's the leader's servant, that’s the dynamic they have.” A blunt assessment, but he agreed with it. The Warper didn't seem interested in chasing down the students so much as staying by Shigaraki, he’d admitted that a student had escaped but didn’t seem inclined to try hunting them down. It wasn't hard to figure out his priority from what little either of them had seen. “Something about him feels strange to my senses, but I can’t tell what it is I’m feeling. Be careful of that one, nonetheless.”

“The Monster is mindless. I can't sense anything from it, and the only things I can't sense are ordinary animals and people who are comatose or brain-dead. It has no mind or will of its own. It will do whatever it's ordered to do, nothing more and nothing less. It can't retreat on its own or be talked into surrendering. Knocking out the leader may stop it, but only because he won't be able to give it orders. If there was a way to deafen it, I would suggest that, but…” 

He could almost feel the thoughtful frown that Sasakia must have had, but his mind was reeling from the information.

The Monster was mindless. Braindead, according to Sasakia’s powers. Something that only existed to follow the orders given by its master. How horrifying.

“Erasure Anansi…” He properly focused on the hand villain, who was glaring past the severed hand that was on his face. “This won’t matter. The Nomu can handle your second stage. This won’t matter!”

His uppermost arms calmly grabbed hold of his capture scarf, and he dropped into a stance, shielding the students as best he could before the fighting began. As long as he kept the villain’s attention on him, he would give them the chance to escape. That was his priority, above all else. The new strength he had might let him fend off the Monster for a while, though he didn’t think he’d be able to beat it. Not unless he got a lucky shot. Unless the exposed brain was a weak point he could use.

But before he could move or the villain could give new orders, the front doors of the USJ were blown off their hinges. And a familiar, powerful voice bellowed out over the USJ.

“HAVE NO FEAR, STUDENTS. BECAUSE I AM HERE!”

He couldn’t help the small breath he let out. Help had come. And it was one of the strongest members of their staff, at that. (Things were looking up. Just a bit.)

“He’s in pain…” Sasakia’s words came as a whisper at the back of his mind, dripping with concern and worry.

Right, he had a sensory power. He could probably feel the strain of All Might’s injury and the pain it was causing him. Which he was undoubtedly making even worse by forcing his body to work past his time limit. He was likely in a great amount of pain that he was keeping hidden from both the villains and the students alike. And he couldn’t let Sasakia accidentally draw attention to the injury.

“He’ll be alright, you don’t need to worry about his health. Right now, we have other things to focus on,” he murmured quietly. There was a moment of quiet in his head. He needed Sasakia to focus on… Whatever he needed to focus on to help Erasure Anansi, and not on his concerns for the number one hero’s secret injury.

“Yes. Of course. All Might will likely take on the Monst- the Nomu, it may be best to act as support and ensure the other villains don’t have the chance to gang up on him. He’s a capable fighter, but he’s still one man.” Erasure Anansi gave a small nod. A logical course of action after experiencing the Nomu’s power firsthand. The number one hero would need to keep his full attention on the villain. He was better off covering for him and ensuring that the other villains couldn’t try to attack his back.

All Might landed beside him, making the ground shake and knocking out all of the villains between the students and the front entrance of the building, his own fists lifting in defense of the vulnerable teenagers behind them.

(Good, good. That was just what he’d been hoping to do. All Might had saved him the trouble. That helped expand his time limit.)

The man wasn’t smiling, though he couldn’t say he was surprised. All Might had likely rushed in because he felt like something was wrong and found a class of students with minimal training surrounded by villains, and at least one of his coworkers was gravely injured. It was a horrid scene to come in on.

“Thank you for defending the students!” He fought back the urge to flinch at the loud voice so close to him. “It was a great risk to fight back-”

“Of course, it was. But there are more important things to focus on right now,” Erasure Anansi cut him off. They needed to focus on the fight in front of them; pleasantries could be saved for later.

He was rewarded with All Might doing, of all things, a double-take at the sound of his voice.

“A-Aizawa-kun?!” A single eye shifted to look at the number one hero.

Ah, of course. Sasakia’s power had changed his appearance. He supposed it was enough of a change that it would take a moment for people who knew him to figure out who he was. He shouldn’t have been too surprised that All Might hadn’t recognised him. (Although Hagakure had figured it out rather quickly…)

It wasn’t very important at the moment.

“The Mist one is a warper, but we haven’t figured out his limits yet. He’s the one who brought all the villains into the USJ. The one with silver hair is the leader; he seems to have a disintegration quirk that works off direct contact with all five fingers of his hands. I’ll keep the two of them busy,” he said calmly. The information was important. He needed to pass it on while he had the chance to. “The creature is called a Nomu; According to the leader, it was genetically engineered to fight you specifically. It has no mind of its own and is fully under the leader’s control. You'll need to focus entirely on fighting it.”

“Ah. U-understood.” All Might turned to the villain in question, dropping fully into a fighting stance. Good. Any other questions could be saved for later.

“Hagakure, Asui, Mineta, we’ll give you an opening. Get to the front entrance as quickly as you can,” he ordered the still-frozen students behind him. He heard one of the kids squeak, but it sounded like they were finally moving.

The hand villain chuckled as he started muttering to himself.

“Throwing punches to save people… That’s our government-sponsored violence. You’re fast, too fast for my eyes to keep up with. But you’re not as fast as I expected you to be. Could it be true? That you’re getting weaker…?”

What? Several of Erasure Anansi’s eyes widened at the quiet statement. How could he- ?

“Getting weaker? All Might has been an active Pro Hero for decades. Considering the rigors of hero work, it’s possible for age to start affecting him…” Sasakia’s thoughtful mutter helped smooth down his nerves. He’d unwittingly confirmed that, although Sasakia could see through his eyes, he couldn’t properly hear or know his thoughts. If he could, then he would have known what Erasure Anansi knew about All Might. He would know about the injury that they were working hard to keep the public from being aware of. But he didn’t know about it.

Instead, he was using what he did know to make a conclusion of his own. And he had come to a sensible one, as far as Erasure Anansi could tell. Some villains might have come to the same one, in the wake of All Might’s lessening of public appearances and obvious acts of heroism. It was logical for people to think that the man was getting too old for consistent hero work and may have been preparing to retire. It was a reasonable one, even.

(Though only a select number of people knew that it was wrong.)

All Might moved, taking advantage of the momentary stillness on the battlefield.

“Carolina Smash!” He struck Nomu hard. A cross chop directly on its exposed head, one that he’d seen on the news plenty of times and often knocked out large opponents the moment it made contact. But this time, that was not what happened. Instead, the monster lashed out, barely flinching from the hit it had just been dealt by the world’s strongest hero. “Seriously? No effect at all?!”

“Of course there was no effect. Because he’s got Shock Absorption,” Shigaraki snarked at him, falling into the familiar villain pattern of over-sharing information. “If you really want to damage Nomu, you’d be better off slowly ripping him apart piece by piece. Not that he’ll give you the chance.”

He heard Sasakia’s small, sharp inhale.

“Shock Absorption- That was Kana-san’s quirk. From the Ijutsu Hospital case… But how did they… ?” Erasure Anansi's eyes narrowed. The missing body… Was it a coincidence? Or did they have someone use Kana-san’s organs to enhance the Nomu? Was it a quirk that allowed someone to meld the quirk from an organ into the villain so it could have access despite not being born with it? How did they manage to merge a second quirk into the creature?

“Thanks for the info! I appreciate it!” All Might moved fast, circling around trying to grapple the Nomu. But Erasure Anansi was forced to turn his attention away, instead focusing on a villain who recovered from his shock enough to try attacking while his attention was away.

One arm lashed out, connecting firmly with the villain’s jaw and dropping him in a single hit.

More of the lower-ranked villains that were still conscious started moving, finally shaking off their awe to try and fight back against them. They still outnumbered the two heroes. (Two heroes and one vigilante? Did Sasakia count if he wasn’t actually on the battlefield?) He used the claws on his gauntlets to block a weapon from a villain that managed to get close, easily flipping his grip in a few seconds to toss them with little effort on his part. Using his scarves to snare and hurl another away as they tried to get past him.

It was easy to fall into familiar patterns, a familiar dance of combat despite the previous disadvantage he’d been grappling with before. Sasakia rested at the back of his mind, observing but keeping himself from being a potential distraction as he fought.

There was a surge of dust and smoke, almost like an explosion, from behind him, and a sudden shock across the connection he had with Sasakia.

“All Might’s been hit! His pain just spiked!” His head snapped to the number one hero.

The Warper. He’d opened another portal to prevent All Might from succeeding in suplexing the Nomu and potentially neutralizing it. And the Nomu had gotten a free strike at the blonde hero’s side. His injured side.

Eraser Anansi bit back a swear. Of all the lucky shots the villains could have gotten!

He lunged for the leader, ignoring the rambling speech the young man was giving, in hopes of forcing the warper to change his focus. If he could get them to switch their focus, then maybe he could give his fellow teacher room to escape the creature’s grip. He ignored the flare of cold behind him, assuming it was a quirk missing its target and nothing more.

The leader stumbled back, startled by his new speed and immediately tried to fight back. One of Erasure Anansi's eyes flashed with his quirk, making the open-palmed strike from the leader harmless. He seized his wrist, twisting the villain's arm behind him and trying to pin him to the stony ground of the plaza. If he could pin him, then he’d have a chance to knock him out. And if he was out, the rest of the villains might start panicking.

Panicked villains would lose their coordination and be easier to take down as a whole.

An alarm blared in the back of his mind, and one of his legs lashed out in a mule-kick. He shifted enough for a free eye to see a villain crumpled on the ground on the far side of the plaza. It didn’t take much to realise what had happened. A stray villain attempted to blindside him, trying to rescue the leader by attempting to get the hero off of him, and was mule-kicked across the stone platform for his trouble. Part of him was surprised by the strength of his own kick; he could only assume it was a side effect of the transformation.

But it gave the warping villain the chance to free the young man from his grip. Just as he’d hoped would happen, since it sounded like All Might was finally able to get loose from the trap created by the portals.

Another of his eyes snapped to the warper, quirk flaring to life. (He had him!)

The warper made a strange, choked noise as his form started to wildly shrink and flicker. As if he were abruptly losing control of the shadowy mists that made up his form and quirk. But, at the same time, it made it easier for him to see the silhouette of the man himself underneath it. (He was a small man, he’d thought he was taller because of the mist. There was a niggle of familiarity at the back of his mind.)

The eye focused on him widened in surprise.

“It’s the new powers you have as a Kamiko. One of the things I did was enhance how much your quirk could affect, but it seems that… The Warper possesses more than one power as well. Losing access to one seems to be making him lose control of the remaining he must have.” Sasakia sounded anxious. He likely hadn’t anticipated something like this happening from strengthening a quirk. (Erasure Anansi certainly wouldn’t have expected it.) “He may end up hurting himself, depending on what he can do. Someone needs to knock him out, quickly.”

“Is he in pain from it?” If he was losing control, then there was a real chance that his quirk(s?) could kill him if they started clashing. There was a pause.

“... Somewhat? I can sense pain, but not the sort from a major injury. It’s the type I usually associate with chronic pain that’s acting up, or a sudden migraine attack. I think he’s suffering more from panic at the power loss than pain.”

Well, that certainly added depth to Sasakia’s sensory abilities. He could sense injuries deeply enough to recognise chronic pain, in addition to the various emotions he seemed to use to clock various crimes in Musutafu. It was little wonder why he would make the jump to Vigilantism in the wake of such a strong ability. (At least he stayed off the battlefield and just led heroes and detectives to them.)

“It’s appeared again…” The eye that had been focused on the leader narrowed, watching as he pushed himself to his feet. “Did you know? A glowing outline in the shape of a butterfly keeps appearing over your face. And you keep muttering whenever it appears… Is it a telepath? Just who are you talking to, Erasure Anansi?”

So Sasakia’s telepathy had a visual cue that was important to know. He’d never noticed it before. But, then again, he had never been on the outside watching someone speak with the vigilante. He said nothing to the villain’s question. (He wasn’t about to rat out a valuable informant. Not to a villain.)

“It doesn’t matter who he’s talking to. You should be more worried about who you’re fighting.” That was Todoroki’s voice.

His free eyes started shifting over the battlefield. Three students had arrived and involved themselves in the fight. Because of course they would do that. It looked like he was right that he had a problem class this year, and not just because of the scale of their quirks. Just what he needed to deal with on top of everything else he had to worry about.

He could see Bakugo, Kirishima, and Todoroki all standing ready for combat and not trying to get to the open front doors and to safety.

Kirishima was engaged with a villain trying to get closer to the gates and the prone students there. He was doing a fair job of fighting them off and making use of his hardening quirk to avoid actually being hurt. Good, it looked like he had better priorities than the other two, then. He went to protect the injured instead of trying to take on the apparent leaders of the attack. He’d have to mark that down later; that was a trait that needed to be encouraged.

Bakugo had gone after the warper, trying to pin him while he was panicked by the sudden loss of one of his quirks. Blocking off their potential escape route was good thinking. But approaching someone who may have lost control of their quirk without knowing what that quirk did was dangerous. That kind of recklessness could get him, or another hero with him, killed if he wasn’t careful about it. And the threats he was making against the villain were extreme. (Dammit. He’d have to talk to Nedzu about that.)

And Todoroki had used his ice to help free All Might from the Nomu. He’d managed to freeze its arm and forcibly loosen its grip enough for the teacher to get out without being injured even worse than he’d already been. It showed that he had incredible control over his ice, and he was staying back at the edges of the plaza instead of trying to throw himself into the thick of the fight. The ice half of his quirk seemed better fit for ranged combat, so the distance was smart.

He could see All Might cradling the place he’d been injured by the Nomu, and he could see blood trickling between the man’s fingers. That was a problem, especially with the way he was sure the man was pushing himself beyond his limits.

“Hm… You’ve managed to beat our level, and with full health, too. The new heroes are really something… Our League of Villains should have done more grinding.” He could hear the anger and irritation in the leader’s voice. It looked like they hadn’t been as ready as they believed to handle the quirks in his class. “Nomu. Take out the explosive brat and then Erasure Anansi. We need our escape route back.”

There was an ominous creaking, a tinkling like breaking glass, that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Or, rather, the sound of breaking ice. The thing moved, forcibly shattering the ice over its body and breaking off its own frozen limbs. He could see exposed bone, torn flesh, splayed muscles and tendons… It was horrific.

“Stars, its body’s falling apart but… It’s still moving… ?!” Sasakia sounded sick, and he could hardly blame him. The damage he was seeing looked like something out of a horror movie. It was probably worse, since he knew Sasakia couldn’t sense anything from the creature’s mind to offset the damage he could probably still sense.

“Get back, everyone!!” All Might ordered, arm shooting out to keep the reckless students back. “What the… ?! I thought his quirk was Shock Absorption.”

It must really have more than one quirk. Like I had thought, Erasure Anansi thought, gritting his teeth. He needed to think of a plan. He had to get the students out safely, but he needed to ensure that the number one hero made it out of the fight as well.

“I don’t remember saying that’s all he can do. This is Hyper-Regeneration. Nomu is a superpowered living sandbag designed to withstand everything you’ve got.” The hand-villain’s tone was bland, almost flippant as he spoke. He was far too assured of the Normu’s power. Too assured that the creature would be able to win.

He could see the flesh repairing itself as the creature stumbled to its feet, letting out an unsettling hissing noise as it did. Then it moved. It was almost too fast for his eyes to follow, he could barely catch its afterimage as it lunged at Bakugo.

Erasure Anansi reflexively stepped forward, barely registering the horrified gasp from the other end of the connection he had with the informant. He couldn’t let Bakugo take that hit. It would kill him!

There was a blast of air that nearly knocked him off his feet. He could swear an attack connected, but Bakugo was with his classmates. Which meant…

“Did- Did he dodge that? But he couldn’t be fast enough…”

“He didn’t. All Might blocked it.” The hero was revealed, standing in a blocking position, as the dust from the attack settled. He'd been knocked back a tremendous distance. The number of conscious villains was much lower now, and those still awake had frozen once more.

The Nomu was powerful, alarmingly so. He'd already known that before. But the way it took a hit from All Might, and hit hard enough to knock him back… It just pushed things further. They’d already confirmed that it had more than one quirk. Did it have a strength enhancement quirk as well? (That would make three quirks… What else might have been used?) It clearly hadn’t been holding back with that strike. If it had made contact with Bakugo…

He didn’t want to think about it. Not right then.

“Anything to save a comrade, right? Like the explosive brat. He came at Kurogiri with everything he had. But violence in the name of saving others is admirable. Isn’t it, hero?” He could hear the instability in the villain’s tone. “You know what, All Might? That pisses me off! Heroes and villains both thrive on violence, but we’re still categorized. “You’re good” and “You’re evil.” That’s how it is!!”

The villain snarled, throwing his arms out in his dramatics.

“Symbol of Peace? Hah!! In the end you’re just a tool for violence, made to keep us down! And violence only breeds more violence. I’ll show the world that by killing you!” His eyes betrayed the truth. He could see the glee, the delight that the villain felt from the fight. From the blood that spattered on the plaza ground. He didn’t care about heroes or villains, he just wanted to make people think he did.

There was a flare of fury in his chest that he wasn’t entirely sure it was his own. But it was still very real. Something weighed heavier in his mind, someone else bleeding through for just a moment.

“Stop spewing lies, we aren’t the blind fools you seem to think we are. You don’t believe a word you’re saying, you’re just prattling off so you can wash your hands of blame. You’d rather pin the responsibility of your actions on someone else than admit how you really feel. You want to parade fake superiority over the people around you.” His own voice sounded off to his ears, but it was buried under the Anger and Truth coming out. They Knew they were right. They Knew the kind of person they were facing. “You enjoy the bloodshed you create. You enjoy the fear you cause. You thrive on having power over others and being able to abuse it without anyone being able to stop you. You made this choice of your own accord, no one made it for you.”

There was a moment of silence, the villain staring and processing what they’d said. Then he chuckled, something cold and vicious on what little of his face they could see.

“Hah, you got me. Saw right through.” He pointed a finger at them. “So, who are you? Who’s fueling Eraserhead’s second stage?”

They fought back the urge to scoff. As if they would share that with someone like him, after he had led an operation like this. After he tried to kill a bunch of teenagers.

“I have no intention of telling you anything. And you’ll just have to live with that.” The villain hummed, but there was a new weight to his gaze.

“It’s three on five. The odds aren’t in their favor.”

“These are some brutal dudes, but with all of us supporting All Might… We can beat ‘em back!”

A line he didn’t realise had been breached snapped back into place, and Erasure Anansi felt himself jerk at the reminder of his student’s presence. Sasakia’s connection suddenly felt more distant, something anxious and concerned on his end. He knew the informant was still there, but it felt like he was trying to push himself away. He was trying to distance his mind from him.

Sasakia had spoken through him, just then. And he hadn’t meant to do it.

He forced himself back to the task. He couldn’t risk losing focus. Not now, not with the villains in front of him. (But he made a note of that.)

“Todoroki. Bakugo. Kirishima. Help your classmates, stay out of this fight,” he ordered, keeping his tone even. Todoroki frowned at his teacher, something almost rebellious on his normally blank face.

“Things wouldn’t have gone so well if I hadn’t stepped in just now to help All Might-sensei, even with your attacks against the leader. Moreover, he’s bleeding.” Todoroki argued, not-quite-glaring at him for trying to stop the boy. One of his free eyes narrowed at the student.

Stubborn teenagers. He wasn’t licensed to fight villains yet; everything he’d done thus far fell under self-defense.

“No. Aizawa-sensei is right. You helped immensely, and I thank you for it. But fear not!” He knew All Might’s grin was fake, but it projected confidence. “Sit back and watch a pro get serious.”

(There was an ignored squawk from Kirishima about his identity. The students hadn’t recognized him either, it seemed. Hm. He would need to add Hagakure’s observational skills to her file.)

All Might was running out of time, fast. He had maybe a few minutes left before his quirk’s effect would give out. Erasure Anansi braced himself to jump into the fray.

He was still holding back the mist villain’s quirk; it was hopefully enough to keep him from getting them out. He needed to keep that eye focused on the warper, another locked on Shigaraki, which left him three more eyes to fight the straggling villains and keep them off of All Might. They couldn’t let the villains escape or get any more strikes at the students before the police or the rest of the faculty arrived. That meant the two pros had to keep them busy until the rest of the staff arrived.

All Might engaged the Nomu in the same instant that he lunged for the silver-haired villain. The shockwave from the attacks was huge and distracting. It knocked his capture scarf off course, letting the villain dodge out of its path.

But the number one hero didn't stop at the initial clash.

“A head-on attack? Why would- Of course. It’s “absorption”, not “negation”. That means there must be an upper limit to the blows that it can handle. But what does he plan to do?” Saskia was keeping an eye on All Might's fight, which allowed Erasure Anansi to focus on the leader. And the few remaining villains who weren't gaping in awe at seeing someone of All Might's prowess in a fight. There was an explosion of movement from the corner of his eye. The number one hero was throwing punches faster than any of them could keep up with, going above and beyond what he should have been capable of.

(There was blood dripping from his mouth…)

So this was the kind of power the number one had. It was amazing. It was terrifying. And, as the man himself could prove, it was enough to win.

“PLUS ULTRA!!!” All Might’s voice came as a roar. Fierce and powerful and unwavering, making Erasure Anansi’s ears ring with the volume. The Nomu was sent flying, smashing through the glass of the UJS's roof at a speed and height that only someone as powerful as the number one hero could manage.

Sasakia let out a startled yelp in the back of his head and all five of his eyes instinctively snapped to the roof, losing his focus on both the leader and the warper, a flare of concern that he couldn't explain exploding in his chest. And he spotted a small shadow at the very top of the dome.

The sunlight and distance made it impossible for him to glean any finer details, but the reaction in his head… His eyes narrowed at the shape and the small flare of nerves that weren't his own.

Could it be?

“Sasakia?” He muttered, squinting against the light.

Gunshots rang out, villains screeching in alarm and pain. A bullet whizzed past his ear; he barely dodged it when he flattened to the ground to avoid a swipe from a villain. There was only one person he knew of who actively carried a firearm and would use it on a villain. Snipe.

The other teachers had finally arrived.

The warper acted, his form finally stabilizing after Erasure Anansi’s eye left him. He whisked himself and the leader away before anyone could stop them. The arrogant man wasn't given the chance to finish monologing at them all before the warper pulled him away. (At least one of them knew how to prioritize.)

Sasakia had distracted him, making him lose focus on the warper, but he didn’t blame the vigilante for it. Neither of them had expected All Might to send the Nomu through the USJ’s roof. He couldn’t begrudge him after the risk he’d taken to help rescue the students.

He didn't know why Sasakia was on the roof, though. Maybe there was a range limit for his transformations that didn’t apply to the butterflies for communication? That would be logical, considering the care that Sasakia put into keeping his identity hidden.

“Aizawa-kun?” There was a tremor to the other hero’s tone, near invisible to anyone who didn’t have their ears trained for small details like that. A quick glance made him realise what was happening.

All Might’s time was up.

He snapped his head away from the other teacher, all five eyes finding something other than the number one hero to focus on. He couldn’t let Sasakia get a glimpse of All Might’s true form, even if he doubted the informant would abuse the knowledge. Not with the respect he’d picked up from him toward the man. (If anything, Sasakia would probably look into things that could potentially help All Might.)

He stuck out an elbow toward Yagi.

“Use my arm to steady yourself. I’ll keep the students from being able to get a proper look.” He was tall enough to cover for the other hero now. He may as well make use of the height.

What followed was a rush of activity, teachers surging in to rescue students and gather the remaining villains. Cementoss had created a wall to prevent the students from seeing All Might’s true form when he finally lost the grip he had on his quirk. He could hear the number one hero sink to the ground and let go of his arm, letting himself rest now that he was well hidden from prying eyes. By the time he thought to look up and see if Sasakia was still atop the dome, the shadow was gone.

But the connection was still there. And there was a strange warmth flowing through the link, as well. That feeling of laying under the stars on a warm summer night trickled through his veins more heavily than it was before. The vigilante was trying to do something, but he couldn’t tell what it was. (How long had it been since the transformation?)

“Aizawa-kun? Or should I be using Erasure Anansi?” He looked down at the call, Nedzu staring up at him with a fascinated glint in his eyes. The quirked animal's eyes traced over his form, lingering on the newer features and the weapons at his disposal. “My, my, this seems like quite an interesting situation.”

That was one way of putting it. A long-time underground informant had the ability to trigger a full body transformation and enhancement in addition to being able to sense emotions and pain and create telepathic mental links with others. And he’d only learned he could do that due to being beaten within an inch of his life by a genetically altered villain that very day.

“Erasure Anansi. You should tell him to call over medics, quickly.” The young man’s mental voice sounded strained. His words and tone were concerning.

Huh?

“I’ve- I’ve never made a kamiko with someone as badly injured as you were. I’m not sure what state you’ll be in once my connection breaks. It’s entirely possible you’ll be returned to how you were when I first gave you my power. And I… I think our fifteen minutes is almost up.”

He felt a chill run down his spine. Oh no.

“Nedzu, I was severely injured before this transformation occurred. The time limit is about to run out. Sasakia thinks I may be returned to that condition when I’m changed back.” The principal’s eyes widened, the body language that he’d learned to read showing his sudden alarm at the statement.

“I should have given the warning sooner, but it slipped my mind. I’m so, so sorry, Eraserhead-sama.” He knew the vigilante meant it. He was too genuine and sincere to successfully lie about that.

There was a surge of gold and amethyst light, and the wall of agony hit hard and fast in its wake. All Might let out an alarmed shout from behind him. He heard Nedzu’s unusually shrill scream for an EMT before the darkness overtook him.

Izuku felt immensely guilty. He knew that, because of the nature of his butterflies, his kamiko would change back the moment his time limit with the miraculous was up. Because of the attack, he’d completely forgotten to warn Eraserhead that it was coming up until the miraculous had started beeping.

He had shifted as much of his magic as he could get away with to stretch out his time limit, but there was still only so much he could do. It was one of the few benefits he had from the nature of his magic, being able to turn light and fire into extra energy, and he'd put work into training up that skill. According to Nooroo, his time limit was much longer than most other underage chosen because of that. (Not to mention the extension that came from the Butterfly Miraculous being more of a supporting role than a front liner.)

But that didn’t change the fact that he still had a time limit.

The Miraculous had a hard limit for a reason, and it was one he didn’t want to face the effects of. Not after what Nooroo had told him of them.

It had been a mad flight when he’d heard the miraculous start beeping, trying to get back to his bag and remain hidden before his time ran out and his identity was potentially revealed. He didn’t know if anyone had seen him, but he couldn’t sense anyone moving toward his current hiding spot.

Nooroo gently rested on his shoulder, pressing a small hand into his cheek.

“You did your best, Izu-bocchan. You tried to leave healing magic in his body, but we’ve never had to use a kamiko on someone as injured as Eraserhead-san. We simply couldn’t heal him completely before the connection broke,” Nooroo said, his voice tender as he spoke. Izuku looked up from the forest floor, misty eyes looking at the kind little god. “It’s the drawback of using a butterfly made entirely of magic. Once our magic is separated, it cannot maintain itself. But you did what you could to help as much as you were able to in that brief span of time.”

“But- But he’s still…” Izuku’s voice shook, a weak sob escaping. He remembered the pain he’d sensed from the hero. He could still feel the distant echo of it ringing through his senses. There was still so much pain and fear echoing through the school grounds… It hung like a choking cloud of smoke, despite the sunny skies above.

He was a butterfly, not a ladybug. It was the ladybug that could create and cure. The butterfly transformed and changed.

“Injured, yes. But he’s in safe hands. The school is supplied with everything they need to save him. He can recover. He will recover.” He felt horrible, even with the kwami’s gentle reassurances.

“And I- I forced my voice- !” He didn’t even know he could do that with a kamiko! He didn’t know he could speak through the person he changed.

“You didn’t do it on purpose, Izu-bocchan. You mustn't forget, he was not an akuma. He was a kamiko. You couldn’t force your will over his own; that is one of the many things that separate a Kamiko from an Akuma,” Nooroo said in a firm tone, frowning as he spoke. “In that moment, your minds and emotions were running on parallel tracks. You fell into synch, that was why he spoke your words aloud. You did not take control of him, do not think that you did. He subconsciously agreed with your words, that was why he spoke them aloud.”

Izuku took in a shuddering breath. The kwami’s face softened, flitting up until he was eye-level with his chosen.

“It’s a lot, I know it is. Feel what you need to feel, Izu-bocchan. You can cry, you can sob, you can let all the feelings inside your heart loose. Everything that’s yours and everything that isn't. Then, once you’re done, you need to reappear on the school cameras and return home. It will be okay. It may not feel like it now, but it will be.”

The words hit hard. Harder than he’d realized they would. Izuku finally lowered his head and let himself cry in earnest, hidden in the woods on the UA campus.

He still felt guilty for what he had done. And what he hadn’t been able to do.