Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Izuku Midoriya was an odd child

Never one for the night light or door open as he slept. Never one for the bright rays and cloudless skies of summer days. He always loved the darkness. He would wrap himself with endless blankets adorned with heroes and smother himself in the embrace of shadows, the only brightness coming from his smile.

With his bright green doe eyes and that warm welcoming smile, he was once beloved in their small apartment complex. Just him and his mother against the world. The brash Bakugo’s by their side. Ruffled curls and kisses on the cheek were all Izuku needed back then to know he was okay, he would be fine.

He hasn’t felt her love since the appointment. She was busy, Izuku would tell himself, trying his hardest to rationalise it with his infant mind. She was busy and that’s why Mama made lunch for herself and not me. I’ll just wait.

It took him three weeks before he realised he would have to start making his own meals. And somehow he thought it was good. His mother trusted him to use the stove so young, to clean his cuts so young, so keep his lies hidden away so young. She trusts me, he would say every night as he fell asleep waiting for her to return from work.

The dark was safe to him. It hid away all the strange looks tossed at him, the pitying glances, the never-ending reminders.

Worthless

Null

Deku

The dark never judged. It never spoke back. It never clawed at him with barbed tipped wings or spark his skin alight. It never broke promises. Not like his friends. Not like Kacc…. Not like Bakugo.

The dark was just always there. And it never turned its back on him when he spoke like she did. Conversations were stilted and bare, never going more than a few sentences. After his fifth birthday, Izuku had realised things weren’t happening for his benefit. Not when he was told there was no money for birthday presents but he easily spotted the new dresses his mother had bought. Not when the cupboards became padlocked and his notebooks restricted.

Their modest apartment was in the wrong side of town and rent was cheap. It was apparent in the way the wooden floors creaked loudly underfoot, in the mildew developing in corner of the walls. To Izuku it was his home, his one safe sanctuary despite the monster festering a door down from him.

---

To Inko the flat was a reminder. A reminder of every time she had been denied, spat at, insulted, for the boy she birthed and loathed. She saw every flaw in the downtrodden rotting apartment, and all of it was at the fault of the sneering brat resting in his bed.

This if for the best, she told herself. She ignored the beaming grins of the heroes around her, posters plastered across each wall. The one reminder she let him have, of the thing he could never hope to have been. The worthless brat had taken everything from her and given nothing. Every ounce of her beauty, her youth, was stolen out from under her by the selfish fiend.

Sleeping peacefully, without a care in the world. Selfishly unaware of how lucky he was. Didn’t he understand how terrible Inko’s life had been? How much he ruined her? Ten years of her life lost to the null lying before her.

She couldn’t care less for the cuts and starburst wounds littering the small boy’s pale skin. Inko knew he deserved it. A worthless null shouldn’t antagonise the other children. Oh, how she wished he could’ve been more like other children, like Mitsuki’s wonderful child. That boy did such a good job keeping her worthless brat in place, with his beautiful explosions.

Inko sighed softly, a small smile playing on her lips as she imagined it. Her hands carefully brandished the blade, imagining the life she could’ve had, had Katsuki been hers instead of the null.

She was content, picturing him be the son she always wanted.

“Mama?”

The smile never left her lips as she lifted the blade.

---

Four Years Later

Shouta Aizawa sighed deeply and sipped heavily from his mug, mentally melting at the elixir and praising every being above for the delicacy he was drinking. But to every person he passed, it was simply his usual scowl paired with dry bloodshot eyes.

“Someone’s in a good mood.”

Almost every person, he groaned. “Hey Zashi.”

“New blend?” The Voice Hero asked, peeking over Shouta’s shoulder to snatch the mug. Before his fingers could even brush against the rim, they were ensnared in overlapping binds of the capture weapon. Not fazed in the slightest, Hizashi peeked over his sunglasses and winked at Shouta before leaning in and murmuring, “Careful Sho, don’t want you students seeing you tie me up.”

He refused to admit he was blushing, preferring to storm off with his face buried in his capture scarf and ignoring the protesting cries of his husband as the man now dangled from the rafters of the unreasonably high UA hall ceiling. Thank god he had a spare capture weapon in the staff room.

The new semester was starting and thankfully, he had enough time to grab his capture scarf, a coffee, and even slip into his sleeping bag before the students arrived. Shouta knew it was like trying to catch gold dust barehanded, but he hoped their were some potential students this year. The year before had been disastrous, not a single ounce of potential among any of them. They had been gone within the day.

Shouta wouldn’t stand around and march children off into their deaths. Not if they thought Heroics was about smiling for the camera and picking up the cheque. There had been too many times hero hopefuls had their ambitions crushed under his fist. But the few, the very few that lasted the time under his tutelage. Well, he can proudly say they are true heroes to him.

Before his pondering could drag on any further, Shouta looked up and grinned at just who he was on his way to see. And thankfully they already had his sleeping bag in one hand and a spare capture scarf in the other.

“Perfect. You okay to wait here until it’s time?” Shouta asked and only wrapped the scarf over his shoulders when the person nodded.

Shimmying into his sleeping bag, Shouta schooled his expression and carefully carried out the ever-graceful, ever-practiced, caterpillar crawl toward the Class 1-A door. His eyes glanced over the classroom and he immediately sighed at the lack of attention, or at least awareness of his existence. He easily spotted a girl with earphone jacks hanging from her earlobes, making no move whatsoever to use an apparent sound-based quirk to sense him. Conversations between students continued endlessly and his restraint finally snapped when he heard the word. Friends.

Shouta had friends. He had many friends, no matter what some people thought. He had a loving husband and amazing family. But he wouldn’t allow them to bond now, no. Not the first day. He would not have them become close, only for their dreams to be crushed in front of each other. No promises could be broken and no relationship ruined by a quirk if one never existed to begin with. The other teachers knew he was overly harsh the first day, it was Shouta’s right of passage. But it was not just for potential.

As an Underground Hero, you know people more than people know themselves. And in the high-stress environment of the first day at U.A., people would be too nervous, anxious, and excited to mind their behaviour. It was his job to weed out any discrimination, any blatant hatred. Nip it in the bud before it can fester. Seems like it was time to get to work.

“If you’re here to make friends then leave,” he drawled tiredly, instantly earning the attention of the entire classroom as he emerged from his sleeping bag, a jelly pouch clenched between his teeth. “It took all of you fifteen seconds to quiet down. Unacceptable. I am Aizawa Shouta, or Pro Hero Eraserhead, and I am the Homeroom teacher for Class 1-A.”

He waited approximately two seconds before flashing his quirk and the class fell silent under the weight of his glare and floating scarf. He reached into his sleeping bag and tossed a pile of gym uniforms onto the desk. “In a minute, you will grab one of these and meet me at Exercise Grounds. But first I have an announcement.”

“Aizawa sensei!” A boy said with his hand raised and body rigidly straight. Oh God, it’s a smaller Tensei. “Does this have to do with the desk beside yours? It is unlike any other classroom layout I have passed today.”

“Correct. And next time wait to be called on Iida,” Shouta groaned, internally smirking at the way the boy crumpled. Was it petty to feel this way about a teenager, maybe. But this was Tenya Iida, the epitome of stuck in the mud. It was part of his job as their teacher to fix that. “The seat belongs to another… student.”

The class looked around at each other curiously, the pained way in which he delivered the word worrying them.

“He technically has no need to be here. He has been learning from Pro Heroes for the last four years and is already training for his provisional license exam in a week or so. Unfortunately, the Hero Commission decided he was undertrained in a few aspects, including socialisation and teamwork. Which makes sense considering he has not been part of a class for the last four years.”

Shouta reluctantly nodded at Iida’s raised hand. “A private student then sir? Will our senpai be a teaching instructor?”

The man couldn’t help the smirk pulling at his lips, a sadistic baring of the teeth to the class. “Yes, he is a private student and will be helping me assist the class. But no he is not your senpai. In fact, he is the same age as all of you. Everyone please welcome, Izuku Yamazawa.”

A boy with a messy mop of green curls and freckles smattered across his cheeks walked in with a sharp yet bright grin, all teeth and too kind. “Nice to meet you all!”

Chapter Text

Shota was tired. That was nothing new, of course. The bone-ache fatigue has been set in since that day all those years ago. When friendly cheers becoming barbs that cut his soul, all for a quirk he had no choice over. In a world where power defined your standing, no one liked the person who could snatch it away from you. He learnt that first hand when his own parents had locked the door in his face and thrown his belongings out the window, when his teachers refused to meet his gaze and treat the next in an endless onslaught of injuries from his peers.

He proved them wrong though. Granted, the initial exam he did as a teenager had landed him squarely within Gen Ed., but when the Sports Festival arrived, Shouta had shown not just the staff, but the world, that he could do it. That he would be a hero, no matter how many people spat insults at him. And he had done it. He had become a hero, had found his family despite the first one leaving him.

And he found his matching piece. The one who completed him, in all his sunshine glory and ever-booming voice. Hizashi’s consistent pestering since the day Shouta had been transferred should’ve been enough to inform him, but Shouta was nothing if not stubborn and set in his ways when he was young. Being a hero was all that mattered, not making friends. No matter how bright their smile was, or how his eyes crinkled whenever he laughed that stupid irritatingly infectious laugh that sparked something in Shouta’s soul. Needless to say, it took Shouta an alarming amount of time before he realised and when he did, he locked that boy down. Grabbing Hizashi by the shoulders and saying You’re mine now before making out in the middle of the U.A. cafeteria may not have been the best idea, but they were teenagers and now they were married. Things were good.

All of that aside, Shouta was still tired. Patrol had been monotony defined. A few purse-snatchers and two break ins, the only thing to note was the mildly energy draining take-down of a pair of drunk idiots who thought an alley was a good place to hash out their dispute. Thankfully, a call to Tsukauchi had them in a patrol car before the clock hit 2, which meant he could slink home and catch an hour or two of sleep with Hizashi before getting up to grade papers.

But every plan for relaxation and comfort flew out the window, when the most earth-shatteringly important sound graced his ears.

A soft meow.

Shouta’s head whipped around at a lightning speed and locked eyes with, what was without a doubt, the weirdest cat or animal he had ever seen. And that was saying something considering he had almost daily tea sessions with his father the Rat God. He cautiously stepped deeper into the alley, to where the… creature was gracefully sat upon a pile of boxes with faded images of bread upon them. The gentle aroma clinging in the air greatly defied most alleys he had graced, so Shouta ventured that the building beside him was a bakery. Back to the matter at hand, Shouta told himself, weird cat thing to investigate.

If he was honest, it mostly resembled a Bengal cat, if it weren’t for the discoloration. Rather than deep chocolate brown and honey gold marbling of it’s fur, it seemed as someone had dipped the creature into a monochrome filter. It had a base coat of a sleek glossy black with marbled spots of metallic greys fading into glistening silver strands. Shouta had a fleeting thought that he may even cut himself if he tried stroking it. But what caught him out the most where its eyes. Large, eerily large for its head and glassy white. It seemed impossible, but Shouta could swear it seemed as if some sort of mist floated around in those glassy eyes, like two tiny crystal balls in its head.

There was one thing Shouta was certain of in that moment. He would absolutely die for this amazing thing. It meowed once more. He would kill for it.

And if his night couldn’t get even stranger, it most certainly did when a small timid voice called out, “Her name is Dusk.”

Shouta is never easily surprised. He is the Number One Underground Hero, a title not to be taken lightly. He lives stealth and breathes situational awareness. The darkness is a cloak he wears tightly and the shadows are his safe space. So, how in the ever loving fuck did someone sneak up on him, better yet, someone so young by the sound of that voice.

He most definitely did not leap around with his capture scarf grasped in his hand, quirk active and hair floating as he bathed the newcomer in the red light of his glare, dropping it instantly when he took in the kid’s expression. It was most definitely a kid, one who was way too young to be out so late and in this district of all places. His hair was knotted and tangled, and deeply sooty to match the smears all over his face. Shouta could make out what seemed like freckles underneath the dirt caking the kids face. But what confused him the most was the massive grin and beaming eyes. Yes they were hollow and deep set, yes his smile was strained under what Shouta could make out to be very dry and bruised skin, but that smile was so goddamn bright and endearing, his icy heart melted.

“Eraserhead,” the kid muttered, with an awestruck tone.

---

Izuku was having a pretty good day. He was somewhat in a happy mood when he woke up and he knew why when he looked to the busted up calendar. It was a year behind so he always did the math quickly to know what day it actually was on the date. And it meant today was his birthday. He was finally 11 years old!

One year since he learnt. One year since he moved from that house and into his… home? It felt safer than the house with Inko ever did. He learnt she wasn’t Mother and definitely wasn’t Mama. Not after that night. Not after the knife.

But even thinking about her couldn’t make him sad now. Because he had a home. Sure, it wasn’t necessarily in the safest of places, but abandoned buildings meant no neighbours and no one nosy enough to wonder why a child was living alone and leaving at odd times. He just had a routine was all. Ever since… it … developed, Izuku had come to realise a lot of things. No matter what the world did, it only every cared about quirks. That’s all it ever would come down. Whether your quirk is powerful, whether your quirk is heroic or villainous, or if you even have one at all. And Izuku, he had been handed the short end of the stick. Ten years quirkless, one year with … it. He still wasn’t too comfortable calling it a quirk. A power, yes. But a quirk?

Part of it was Izuku telling himself it was too dangerous, too volatile and unnatural to be considered similar to the rest of the population. Then a smaller part of him, the 4 year old hero worshipper who would dream of this, would remind Izuku of Dusk. Even thinking of her, he couldn’t help but smile and glance over to where she slept on the punctured sofa, her claws scrapping against seams as she slept. The cat was the best family he could ever ask for, the one part of his… power, he could never have regretted using. She understood him in a way no one did, no words had to be spoken between the two. Like right know, she lazily blinked and looked toward him, mewling softly.

Even within his bones, without needing to decipher the animalistic message, he knew she was wishing him happy birthday. He truly loved Dusk.

The day would be like any other he spent. Clean up from last night before heading to the beach. Despite having the whole building to pick from, Izuku had taken residence on the second floor at the back of the building, with the fire escape running down the one window of the apartment. Quick escapes were handy he had learnt before in the few spots he had slept at before permanently making residence in the apartment.

It was one room, simple and easy to maintain. His small mattress was tucked in the left corner on the floor with a single blanket and pillow. It was usually enough in the summer but there was no heat in the building, so winter had proven a bit more difficult. Somehow, he was lucky enough to still have water and electricity running in the building, which made making a quick breakfast on the single stove and tiny counter beside his mattress. Sure it was almost 2 in the morning, but it was breakfast, nonetheless. He sat on the sofa placed against the right wall of the apartment and slowly made his way through a portion of reheated stew he had made a few days ago that was still going. Izuku knew his entirety of one cupboard was running low which meant visiting a shop and attempting to stuff as many things into his pockets without being caught.

It's not like he wanted to steal, but he had no money. Who would in their right mind hire an 11 year old homeless child. Sure he wouldn’t tell them that, but one glance at him had most people looking away. Izuku was fine with that, he’d much rather stay in the shadows than be observed too long. But it was pointless to avoid, so Izuku scarfed down the rest of his rice before slipping out of his shorts and sliding a pair of sweatpants on and pulling an old frayed Present Mic hoodie. ‘Put Your Hands Up’ was written in bright yellow font up both arms with a simple graphic of the hero’s headphones decorating the back. It was obscene, bright, and mainly an ugly reject from the hero franchise line that accidentally ended up being produced. It was slated by the media for it’s tacky design. Needless to say, Izuku loved it.

Dusk leapt from beside him and clung onto his arm and Izuku could only sigh fondly as she situated herself around his neck, curling around him like a scarf. She purred softly, and he enjoyed the rumbling sensation as he flipped his hood up and left his apartment. Through the fire escape obviously.

---

The night had gotten away from him and next thing he knew, Izuku found himself watching a fight. He was no stranger to brawls in his area, hell the place was renowned for the illicit activities that occurred nightly in the alleys. And sure, his dreams of being a hero were no significantly… stilted, but his brain would never cease analysing.

Tall, larger build looks like a dorsal fin on his back. Mutation quirk? Shark like, no apparent gills, no other appearance of mutation. Wait no, those teeth he spat out. One of the floa… He controls his teeth. I wonder if he can control more at once, do they have to be disconnected from his gums, is it just his teeth or entire skeletal structure? Can he do it to any bones, or just his teeth? Wait can he do it to oth- Yeah he can do it to others.

Izuku watched with rapt attention as Shark Man’s opponent staggers back missing his two front teeth from his mouth, rather he has them embedded in his arm. The injured man roars and raises an arm to guard from more flying teeth his way when they suddenly dropped mid-air and clatter to the ground.

His analysis ground to a halt and it seemed the two fighting were just as confused as he was. At least, Izuku’s confusion transformed into giddy awe when he saw a familiar white scarf whip out of seemingly nowhere and wrap around the two men, binding their arms to their sides. The men were collided against each other, promptly knocking the both of them out before they were dumped on the ground.

“Dusk, oh my god, Dusk, is it him, is it him?” he whispered, receiving a mewl in response before she slinked off his neck, seemingly more interested in the boxes beside him.

And then he stepped out, and Izuku almost fainted. It might be the hero he had a whole notebook of theories on, the hero who he dreamed of being like. Right. In. Front. Of. Him.

Izuku’s panic was disrupted by the man snapping to attention at the spot beside him. Or more accurately, at Dusk. Who of course, basked in the attention, fully aware of how beautiful she was. Izuku loved Dusk, he really did, but his cat was an attention seeking drama queen who would gladly rule the world if she had her way.

Does… does the Maybe Eraserhead like cats? Izuku wondered to himself as he watched the hero approach Dusk. The man hadn’t seemed to spot Izuku yet, so he slowly walked over to the man’s side, trying to gauge a look at the man’s face in the low light. He hoped it was. Don’t get Izuku wrong, he’d be excited to talk about Dusk with someone, but it’s just… if he got to meet Eraserhead of all people on his birthday? Then maybe… maybe he could make it one more year, could keep going one more year.

Izuku shook himself, reminding himself of the present moment. The man was still utterly focused on his cat, so he what better way would there be than to strike up a conversation with the possible hero or possible stranger. And hopefully not murderer.

“Her name is Dusk.”

The man whipped around, quirk flaring and scarf flying, and Izuku almost let out the most undignified squeal. It was him, Izuku would know that red eye glare anywhere. He had watched every second of grainy footage he could find, even the ones he had to maybe not so legally access. It’s not his fault that their code had a clear open access point for him to infiltrate. Anyone could have done it, Izuku knows he’s not smart or anything. Just things seem to make sense to him a lot.

But Eraserhead, the Eraserhead, was standing right in front of him and Izuku couldn’t help but feel the universe was smiling down on him that day. Izuku grinned at the man, wanting to thank him, praise him, do something, but all he could manage was a smile and a soft, “Eraserhead.”

---

Shouta was dumbfounded in that moment. He was all but ready to relax the night away before he was stopped by the strangest and arguably coolest looking creature he’d seen and then dumbfounded by a kid knowing who he was, a kid that seemed a lot worse for wear.

“You know me?” He asked, keeping his voice steady and face blank as the red glow of his quirk died down and his scarf sunk back around him.

“Y-Yeah! I’m a huge fan Eraserhead-san, you’re so so cool, the way you fight quirkless and the way you mastered a weapon no has used since the beginning of the Quirk era. And your quirk! It’s so cool, does it work on groups? Do you negate the ability to use a quirk or the quirk factor itself? Does your hair float because of your quirk or the static of your scarf? Or do you have a latent teleki–”

“Slow down kid,” Shouta managed to finally say. He needed a moment to unpack all of that. Not only did a child who probably wasn’t even 10 years old knew who he was, but somehow had an in-depth knowledge about quirks, enough to ask a ridiculous amount of question’s he’d only ever heard his dad Nedzu ask him. Then, there was a real kicker that raised a flag to him. The kid was impressed that he fought quirkless. And boy was that uncommon in this day and age. Shouta knew first hand how those with ‘weak’ or ‘villainous’ quirks where treated, he had experienced it all those years till Hizashi cracked his walls and the Nedzu razed his biological family to the ground. When Nemuri had taught him what it meant when those butterflies fluttered in his chest at the thought of loud blondes, when Oboro… Nope, he wasn’t unpacking that all now. What was important, was that this kid, admired doing something as simple as fighting without a quirk. And if that wasn’t enough to indicate something, the kid’s appearance surely did.

Bruises and gaunt eyes, dry flaking skin and tangled matted hair. Chipped nails and scarred hands. Not to mention the silvery white skin that looked strangely like a bursting pattern peeking from the sleeves and neck of the hoodie. And, oh that goddamn hoodie. Shouta wouldn’t have recognised it unless up close. It was the prank he and Nemuri had pulled on him, pitching it without his knowledge, going behind his back to have a hundred of them produced and shipped out. All of them were recalled when Hizashi found out, all but two. Shouta had one tucked under their bed. And he had just discovered where the other was.

The universe was an odd place. Here he was ready to go home, when the universe handed him this strange kid, and his instincts were screaming at him to not leave. And who was he to not trust his instinct.

“Quite a brain you’ve got there. I’m impressed. Not many people know about me, even fewer know enough to ask the kind of things you did. You know what an Underground Hero is?” Shouta asked, already feeling like the kid knew. He was answered with a timid nod and internally Shouta raised a brow at the kid’s disbelieving awe. The kid doubted his words, doubted his praise. Yeah, he’s taking this one in.

He'd tell Zashi they’re getting a stray. Hell, if the kid knew the cats name, they were a package deal. Even better and still not technically lying to his husband. Logical as all things should be.

“As an Underground, I can’t reveal too much about myself. But seeing as I have just met pretty much my only fan,” Shouta said, the kid squeaking and hiding his red face beneath scarred hands, “I’ll let you ask me a question if you let me ask you one first. We can go back and forth.”

The boy chewed his lips timidly before nodding.

“What’s your name kid?”

“Midoriya Izuku sir. Can… can I ask one now?”

Shouta nodded.

“Do you like cats?”

“More than I like breathing. What breed is Dusk?”

“She was a Bengal. Um… Can you erase your own quirk?”

Shouta had to blink at the question. So simple, yet so many people rarely thought to ask. “Sort of. It’s a long story. Now my turn to ask,” he said, catching how the kid seemed to have relaxed somewhat. He dropped his tone to a softer one, and crouched softly, facing Izuku head on. “What’re you doing out so late Izuku?”

The kid’s eyes widened slightly, and he looked around the alley. Shouta was glad he was stood before the only exit.

“Sh… shopping?”

“At 2 in the morning?”

“Less likely to have queues.”

Shouta knew the look the kid… no, Izuku was wearing. He had worn it many times himself. One of trepidation and fear, one that knew that hoping for something was foolish because it could be snatched out from under them within seconds. It was a look that knew of betrayal and hurt. And that squeezed at Shouta’s heart more than anything. Shouta gently reached out his hand, cataloguing the way Izuku flinched oh so slightly at the movement, before carefully placing his hand on Izuku’s shoulder. Soft, steady. Just there.

“Izuku… how long have you been alone?” He knew there was no point asking if. Shouta was sure that he was alone. If he was quirkless, or had some sort of view over his own quirk that aligned with the stupid portion of the population who were quirkist discriminatory assholes, then foster homes wouldn’t be safe. So Shouta knew he was alone, well except… “And Dusk doesn’t count.”

Izuku’s lip trembled softly and Shouta wanted nothing more than to wrap the kid up, whisper sweet assurances and tell him it will be okay. But he had to wait. He needed Izuku to make this decision for himself. He had only met the kid but he’d die for him, but Shouta needed Izuku to trust him first. Sure he was a Pro Hero, but if his heart was telling him anything, this wouldn’t be just taking a kid off the streets. It’d be taking him off the streets and in. In to his home.

“A year,” Izuku sobbed out, his voice broken and small.

“You don’t have to be,” Shouta said softly.

“I do! My qui– my power. It isn’t safe… it’s evil.”

“Don’t Izuku, please don’t every say that,” Shouta said, gently tilting Izuku’s chin up to meet his eyes. “I’m a hero right? You know me, hell, you even like me for some reason?”

Izuku nodded and choked out a sobbing laugh.

“You know what people called me when I was your age. A villain. Evil. Monster.” Shouta wanted to laugh softly at how wide Izuku’s eyes were but he powered on. “And I believed them for a long time. Until someone important to me taught me they were wrong. There is nothing inherently wrong with a quirk, no matter what. It’s a tool, and it’s only evil if the person uses it for evil. Even if you did something accidentally, it’s not your fault.”

Izuku broke into wild sobs and collapsed into Shouta’s arms, crying and screaming silently into his capture scarf. Shouta stayed, his hand rubbing soft circles on Izuku’s back.

“You’re not alone anymore Izuku, I’ve got you,” he murmured as Izuku’s breathing calmed down and those bright teary green eyes looked up at him. “I’m not making any guesses but I do know there’s never a good reason for someone being on the streets so young. Which leads me to my question. Would you like to go the police station and find someone, a family member or friend who can take you in, or on the off chance I’m right and you’d rather not go back… would you like to come back to mine tonight? We can talk to the police tomorrow and sort out your situation more then.”

“Why?”

“Why what Izuku?”

“Why help me? I… I can look after myself, me and Dusk are fine. I don’t want to bother you. You’re a Pro, I’d just take up your time, I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Izuku, just because you can be fine and okay with your situation, doesn’t mean you have to be. I know what it’s like Izuku, hell I slept on a park bench for a week straight once. You don’t have to stay forever but at least stay a night. A warm bed, meal, you can use the shower too. What do you say?”

Shouta prayed to every God above and thanked them when the kid said a wobbly, “Okay Raser.”

Even he couldn’t hold in his snort.

Chapter Text

Yamada Hizashi was anxious. It was already ten minutes after Shouta would’ve finished patrol and he was usually such a stickler for his relaxing time that he would usually be home by now. But the clock ticked by and his husband was yet to appear, until his phone finally dinged, the ringtone he had set especially for Shouta.

CoffeeCat

02:12    OMW. Prep guest room. A kid. Probably permanent.

LoudCat

02:12    Thank god Sho, I thought you were dead, I was ready to call every one. How old, how bad?”

CoffeeCat

02:13    Ten maybe eleven. Bad.

LoudCat

02:13    See you soon love

CoffeeCat

02:14    <3

It wasn’t the first time either of them had activated their emergency foster licenses and took a kid in. Abusive parents, a rough school, a step-parent with straying hands. The husbands had seen it all and would drop anything to get a kid out of a rough situation. They were never permanent though. A few weeks, months at most. They always kept up to date with their previous fosters, making sure the home they were in was safe and good. They liked having monthly dinners with the six kids, all of them pseudo siblings. They were all finally happy and safe, two of them even heading to college soon. But never permanent. So if Shouta said it, it was most likely true.

Ten year olds were tricky. Stuck somewhere between childlike wonder and growing responsibility. Their lives were a tug of war between youth and the world, the time when you know it’s time to grow up. But it sounded like the little listener had already learnt that decision a while ago. With both of them being Pros and teachers, not to mention Hizashi’s radio job and the needless inheritance Nedzu had handed them, money was never really an issue.

They had a house in the teacher complex of the U.A. dorms, a homely duplex taking up the top two floors of the dorms, with only Nemuri as their neighbour. The open living room housed multiple sofas decorated with throw blankets and pillows for the naps Shouta was always end up taking after patrol, when his body was too weak to go up the stairs. The kitchen was Hizashi’s dream, with a marble countertop and island perfect for his days off when he could finally experiment with the baking recipes he had found in the week. What he was looking for however, was their cupboard of bedding hidden under the stairs. Hizashi pulled out some forest green covers, getting a gut feeling it would suit the little listener.

He headed up the stairs and to the door across from their bedroom. So far the room had been used as a study but they could just combine both of their studies into one room. The spare futon would have to do until they ordered a bed and Hizashi emptied out the drawers and cupboard from the junk the couple had accumulated over the years. Once the room had been cleaned out and dusted, Hizashi stood in front of the box of basic decorations they used to help the rooms feel less dull for their fosters.

He stared back at his own face on one of the posters. Was it narcissistic to put up a Present Mic poster before anything else. No one saw, so there was no proof. He only did a few posters of heroes, never one to assume if their little listener would be a hero worshiper or not. He settled on some safer ones that could cover the bases. Himself for kids who had the hard to control quirks, Gang Orca for those with mutation quirks, and Shota… the poster he and Nem had made themselves. That was the kids who thought their quirks were evil. Hizashi had seen many kids stay with them other than the six main fosters they had had in the past, and each of them gravitated to one of these three posters for some reason or other. He purposefully avoided the likes of All Might and Endeavour. The husbands both had their own thoughts regarding the Number One and Two Heroes, not the mention the Commission holding their leashes. Either way, Hizashi was proud of his choices and moved on to hanging some fairy lights around the ceiling and putting a cream coloured rug down on the floor. He looked around the bare room, a futon with green bedding to the left, a desk below the window on the right, cupboards and bookshelves lining the back wall opposite the door. It wasn’t much but hopefully it would be enough.

The sound of the door rattling broke Hizashi from his activities and he rushed down the stairs in time to see Shouta making hushed conversation with someone behind him.

“SHOUTAaaa,” Hizashi cheered, his quirk dying down when his husband glared at him, not bothering to hide his fond smirk though. “Is the little listener with you?”

“Zashi, meet Izuku,” Shouta said, pulling a tiny boy from behind him, with wide verdant eyes and matching curls growing in every direction.

The boy looked him up and down before squeaking out, “Present Mic!?”

Hizashi just watched as the boy seemingly passed out.

---

Izuku woke up groggily, to something batting his nose incessantly. He cracked an eye open to see Dusk sat in front of his face, peering down at him before batting his nose once more with her paw.

“I’m up,” he groaned, scratching her softly. “Had the strangest dream. Met Eraserhead and Present Mic.”

“Wasn’t a dream little listener.”

Izuku shot up, ignoring the surprised shriek from Dusk, and whipping his head around to see THE PRESENT MIC smiling at him. Two Pros, two of his favourite heroes ever and he got to meet them on his birthday. And then it all came crashing back. The conversation with Eraserhead, the offer to stay the night. He timidly turned and caught Eraserhead’s eye. Izuku’s question was hanging on his lips, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Help wasn’t something for Izuku, it was for other kids who deserved it, those who needed help or weren’t… wrong.

“Izuku, can you eat curry?” Shouta asked and Izuku felt his worry break. Of course the hero noticed, he was that good. And he didn’t even worry about giving him an option, already including him in the act. That alone made something warm blossom in Izuku’s chest. He wasn’t used to it, but it felt nice, nicer than he’s felt for a while. So he held on tight to the feeling and nodded to Eraserhead. Maybe staying a night or two with the heroes wouldn’t be so bad.

---

Shinsou Hitoshi was still surprised. The Hero Course, something that had seemed so unattainable and now here he sat, watching his idol shrug out of a horrific yellow sleeping bag and address his class in the glibbest nonchalant way possible. The entrance exam had been, for lack of a better word, rough. A clear display of society’s favour toward powerful ‘heroic’ quirks with mental quirks left at the bottom of the barrel. But spite and a pipe from a robots arm was enough for him to scrap enough points to scrape into the Hero Course. He was finally one step closer to his goal, one step closer to the license that proved all those people wrong. He would be a hero no matter what.

He was pulled from his musings when their Sensei mentioned something about the desk at the front. Honestly Hitoshi couldn’t care less about the idea of a teaching assistant, just another person who would assist him. He didn’t need friends, he needed to achieve his goal and that meant taking in every word teachers said. Unless it was another insult, those would be promptly igored.

“The seat belongs to another… student.” Eraserhead… no Aizawa-sensei, said. A student? It made some sense having a third year come and help out in their class, they would most likely already have their Provisional License and experience working in agencies or with field work. But Hitoshi was admittedly astonished as their teacher continued.

“He technically has no need to be here. He has been learning from Pro Heroes for the last four years and is already training for his provisional license exam in a week or so. Unfortunately, the Hero Commission decided he was undertrained in a few aspects, including socialisation and teamwork. Which makes sense considering he has not been part of a class for the last four years.”

He was stunned. How the hell was something like this possible? Four years of training, more so than the regular student and was even recognised by the Commission. And what did they mean that he is undertrained in socialisation. Is it a solider? Some older person who’d seen hell and was ready to share their ways.

Their teacher grinned and Hitoshi could feel the class quiver beneath the toothy grin. “Yes, he is a private student and will be helping me assist the class. But no he is not your senpai. In fact, he is the same age as all of you. Everyone please welcome, Izuku Yamazawa.”

Hitoshi was silent. A hero brat then, with an all-powerful quirk, one that they probably used to skate through life. Clearly they had the U.A. staff wrapped around their finger, so impressed with what had to be a fantastic quirk, a selfish, entitled di-

 “Nice to meet you all!”

And every thought he had left his brain on account of the green curls and wide grin that seemed to brighten the room. Who could blame him when the boy seemed so small and unassuming but even Hitoshi could see the way the school blazers tightened around his biceps, barely able to contain whatever lay hidden beneath them. Needless to say, Hitoshi had never been more assured that he was gay than in that moment, and of course knowing his luck, he had to find the perfect U.A. golden child attractive.

He was lost in a daze for so long, he didn’t realise what was happening till most of the class were standing and heading toward the pile of gym uniforms on Aizawa- sensei’s desk and followed the rest of the walking class to the changing rooms.

He thumbed the material of the clothes while he thought of emerald eyes and pretty smiles.

Chapter Text

The last week had been heaven to Izuku. Eraserhead and Preset Mic had assured him that he could call them Shouta and Hizashi, but that felt too personal. Too real. If he let himself call them that, then it would feel permanent.

And Izuku didn’t get permanent. It wasn’t allowed. Permanent made it so much harder when it inevitably ended.

But still, the week had been amazing. The first night had been difficult. Endlessly plagued by memories of that night in his dreams, seeing Inko raise the knife. And then all the blood. Dusk was ready for him when his eyes flew open, curling on his lap and staring up at him with her wide eyes, grounding him, reminding him of where he was and where he wasn’t. He was with her, not Inko. But on that night, she had a companion. Eraser had knocked on the door and come in quietly.

He didn’t ask questions, he didn’t comment on Izuku’s tears or shaking form. He just sat beside him on the futon and opened his arms. An invitation, one for Izuku to take. Not forcing him, not ordering him. Just open and there. It had taken him a few minutes, but he crawled closer, and sleep had come easier with the warmth of care around him.

The next time it happened Mic had been there, with a green mug full of warm cocoa. It soothed his aching throat, rough from screaming himself awake. And then Mic asked him questions about his quirk, asked what Izuku thought about varying pitches and volumes could do in the field. Those conversations anchored him in a way nothing, but Dusk could with her quiet comfort.

Mic and Eraser had slowly latched him from floating into oblivion and Izuku was terrified of what would happen if he had drifted too far. He was awake that morning, pondering over the last week. It was good, so good. And it would hurt when they left. Izuku knew the longer it went, the worse it would be.

“What do you think?” He asked Dusk as she groomed her paws. She looked up at him mid-lick and placed her paw down. A moment passed before she trotted across the newly bought bed, the one they bought for him two days ago with a beautiful forest green bedding and pillows and leapt. Dusk landed with grace by the open door and simply walked out, throwing him a glance and a small tilt of her head. The order to follow her was felt deep within his bones. “Guess I’m telling them.”

---

Shouta was halfway to heaven, his mind drifting in that limbo state been awake and sleep before the quiet padding across the floor could be heard. He cracked an eye open from his position draped across the sofa with his head on Hizashi’s lap as the man marked English papers, and watched Dusk walk over. Shouta lazily dangled his arm over the edge and smiled softly when she bumped her head into his hand. And as always, Izuku came padding behind her, somehow softer than the cat.

“Eraser?”

Shouta took a moment to really look at the kid. Still wearing that god-awful Present Mic hoodie that the pair of them loved, much to Hizashi’s chagrin, and a pair of well fitted sweatpants. The mall trip had certainly been eventful, with Izuku literally growling at people who looked at Dusk wrong and refusing to let the couple spend more money on him than for the barest necessities. Needless to say, the pair had ordered many things online when Izuku went to sleep and just slipped them into his cupboards. But, the kid was still a ball of nerves. He almost shut down when they broached the idea of school until they told him he could do it all online. Clearly people were an issue, school was an issue, people judging Dusk was an issue, quirks were an issue. The kid seemed to love talking about them until it came to his. And Shouta wouldn’t pry till Izuku was ready.

Right now, the kid was fumbling with his sleeve and avoiding Shouta’s eye while still waiting for a response, one that Shouta realised he had gone a long time without giving. “What’s up kid?”

“Can… can we talk? All four of us?”

Shouta couldn’t help but smile. Dusk was always included in Izuku’s conversations, no matter what.

“What’s up listener?” Hizashi asked gently, setting the marking down.

Izuku awkwardly dropped himself on the cushioned armchair opposite them, the unspoken chair he had claimed in his time with them. Dusk immediately leapt onto his lap and curled up, but kept her eyes fixed intently on the pair of them. Times like this reminded Shouta that, while beautiful, Dusk could be terrifying with her empty endless stare. Izuku’s hands unsteadily stroked through her fur, gazing between her and the floor before he took a shaky breath.

“It’s about my quirk.”

---

Inko sighed softly, a small smile playing on her lips as she imagined it. Her hands carefully brandished the blade, imagining the life she could’ve had, had Katsuki been hers instead of the null.

She was content, picturing him be the son she always wanted.

“Mama?”

The smile never left her lips as she lifted the blade.

And stabbed the boy in the arm.

The screams made her smile stretch wider, a manic feral thing.

Her eyes were fixed on the gushing crimson, unaware and uncaring for the curling darkness.

She didn’t see the way the moonlight in the room dimmed.

The way the shadows seemed to stretch toward the waste of a child.

No, she was focused on the crimson.

Not on the coiling shadows defying normality. Not on the way the wisps sharpened into something crystalline. Jagged rough hunks of blackened glass upheld by clouds of black mist.

Hunks of blackened glass that hurtled toward the woman fixed on crimson.

---

“I woke up the next morning. My arm was fine,” Izuku mumbled numbly, pulling down his sleeve to show a patch of greyed smooth skin in the middle of his pale scarred skin. Shouta’s fingers dug into his palms as he processed the way the kid, his kid, recounted the first ten years of his life. The absolute horrid treatment the monster that was Midoriya Inko had inflicted upon Izuku, and final night, the final culmination of it all.

His kid, his precious kid, had almost died at her hands. And after everything he had gone through, all the hurt and agony, the universe played the sickest joke and decided to give him a quirk in that moment.

“I call it Shadow States.” A small spark had reappeared in Izuku’s dull eyes at the shift in conversation. “I change the dark.”

“Got any notebooks?” Hizashi began softly and Shouta knew this was the man he loved. If there was anything that they learnt in the last week, it was Izuku loved analysis, and his notebooks were his life. They were the only thing he took from the abandoned building he’d been staying at before. And that was another one hell of a trip they had before the mall. Their kid had been living in a health and safety nightmare, not to mention the fact the building looked one strong breeze from toppling.

Izuku nodded, and of course, he pulled it out his waistband. Already prepared.

Shouta and Hizashi huddled closer as they read over the handed over book, eyes widening as they read the in-depth analysis, the possible theories and finally, how the entire other half of the notebook was dedicated to Dusk. Shouta smirked while Hizashi gaped, his eyes wide.

“Wait so Dusk is… what is she?” Hizashi’s voice was a whimper as he stared at the ‘cat’.

“She’s a beautiful anomaly,” Shouta stated. “And I agree kid, there’s room for growth for both of you.”

And as Shouta had predicted, Izuku immediately had that doubtful questioning look on his face. Eyebrows furrowed, lips pouted and head tilted to the side. This kid had no clue what that face could do, no he was completely oblivious.

“You don’t hate me?” Izuku asked softly.

Shouta slipped off the sofa and slowly walked over to Izuku, making sure the kid could see each of his movements. He knelt before Izuku and laid his palms up, and tentatively, Izuku placed his hands on Shouta’s. He gripped the small, scarred hands gently and looked at Izuku calmly. “Do you remember what I told you the night we met? There is nothing inherently wrong with a quirk, no matter what. It’s a tool, and it’s only evil if the person uses it for evil. Even if you did something accidentally, it’s not your fault.”

He smiled at the kid and carefully wiped the tears falling down his freckled cheeks. “Mean it?”

“I never say anything I don’t mean kid. It would be illogical.”

---

Izuku rocked on his heels beside his dad, already eager for the day ahead. His capture scarf, a black-green blend, was draped over his shoulders as the pair awaited Class 1-A. It was the first year that he would be integrated with other people. Sure, he was technically supposed to start last year but then his dad had gone and expelled the entire class, so they spent the year focusing on hacking, political espionage, and cleaning crime scenes. Not the most heroic of activities but Underground heroes danced in the realm of grey, not black and white morality.

Regardless, this year he would be working with others. They may all be his age, and he may be excited about their quirks, but he was a bit nervous. He’d gotten better with his quirk and abilities, but people were still people. And Izuku couldn’t stand most people. At least he knew a few familiar faces in the class. There was Uncle Tenya’s little brother, the youngest Todoroki, and of course… Kacchan.

That was a weird one. After everything that happened the night with Inko, Izuku was sure that Kacchan would rather die than talk to him again. But Izuku was also certain he’d never have to save the explosive blonde from sentient sludge, and yet people could be proven wrong. The boy had cornered him after the heroes and medics had cleared them and when Izuku braced for the classic right-hook, he was taken aback when the blonde hugged him.

And sobbed.

Gods, he sobbed a lot.

Either way, he and Kacchan had a somewhat stable friendship now. Even if stable meant weekly sparring, followed by deep arguments over whatever pre-Quirk era movie they were watching that always ended with the two more bruised than they would be sparring.

And of course, being the overachiever that he was, Kacchan was the first one out on the Exercise Grounds. He sent Izuku a feral grin that was happily returned.

“Ready for a year of being humbled Kacchan?” Izuku asked, rocking on the balls of his feet as he grinned even widder.

“HAH?! You wanna go, you damn nerd?”

A red glare shut them down instantly. “Katsuki, do not blow up my son. Izuku, do not tamper with a walking bomb. Both of you shut up, your classmates up coming. Goddamn problem children.”

The two snickered and Izuku flashed him the finger before the building doors flew open and the rest of the class trickled in, chattering boisterously and lazily making their way over to the three of them.

Izuku spared a glance at his dad and smirked at the furious glint in his eyes.

Oh, today will be fun

Chapter Text

“Listener,” Hizashi said softly, knocking on Izuku’s door. Their son, because let’s be honest, Hizashi had already begun filing the adoption papers. Sho would sign in a heartbeat, but they’d wait till Izuku was feeling more comfortable. He just hope he wasn’t about to upend any of the comfort the three had built together with his next request.

The poor listener had looked so drained after the night’s revelations, hours spent discussing his horrid life at the hands of the bitch, Inko. But Hizashi plastered a smile on his face as he peeked through the doorway into Izuku’s room, his heart softening at the sight of Izuku hurriedly scrawling in a notebook, lying on his stomach with Dusk perched on his back and peering at his writing.

“Hi Zashi,” Izuku mumbled, eyes not breaking from his notebook. That was another thing. After the conversation last night, he muttered a quiet Night Zashi, night Sho, before heading to his room. Needless to say, Sho had to erase his quirk before his cries of joy woke the whole dorm. And that reminded him of the request.

The couple had spent the last week holed up in their apartment, with Nedzu having groceries delivered after the tense time at the mall. The rest of the staff, their family as much as Shouta would deny it, were curious. Only Nedzu knew the truth and thankfully he had expertly dodged any question tossed his way. Hizashi loved his boss as much as he feared him. All in all, the staff had questions and the couple had decided it was probably time they gave answers.

“Can we talk a second buddy?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Thankfully, Izuku had put up some more decorations since he woke up despite the still early hour. The sun was just peeking over the horizon and there were already hand drawn images of himself and Sho plastered to the walls. The fairy lights had been moved from the ceiling to crudely frame his favourite poster and Hizashi wasn’t even upset to see Izuku had chosen the poster of Shouta over Gang Orca and himself.

“Sure,” he said, tucking his notebook aside and looking up at Hizashi with tired eyes but a warm grin.

“Me and Sho have been sort of taking time of work this last week. And while we wish we could keep going on how we have, the U.A. are starting to ask where we are.”

“It’s fine, I can stay at home, I won’t open the door for anyone.”

“Izu, we aren’t just going to leave you alone. I know you still think you’re fine to be alone, and you are very capable for your age, but you shouldn’t and don’t have to be. Let us be there to help you listener,” Hizashi said softly, carding a hand through Izuku’s curls.

And just like Dusk, he melted into the touch. “So what do I do?”

“How do you feel about going to U.A. today?”

Izuku squealed.

---

Kayama Nemuri was not a patient woman.

And in the last week, her family had done their utmost to test it. It begun with Shouta’s cryptic texts and his sudden disappearance followed by Hizashi. Then Nedzu suddenly sent a staff-wide message saying the two were not to be disturbed, that she would be bunking with Kurose for the foreseeable future because apparently the two needed their whole dorm floor to themselves. And on top of it all, Nedzu said any questions or complaints should be directed to him, an unspoken message of ask and end up in a ditch.

All in all, she had become very impatient this last week. And very, very curios. Her and Kurose had spent endless time debating what the two could’ve been up to and as much as she loved her astronaut friend, Nemuri needed her alone time. She hadn’t had time to do her full hair care routine since she left her hair mask in her apartment. So when Shouta finally sent a message to the inner circle staff group informing them that the couple had an announcement and to specifically have everyone arrive in one of U.A.’s conference rooms in their Hero costumes, Nemuri sprinted to change.

It took four minutes that never seemed to past before she was sat at a desk, whip placed on the desk in front of her and a manicured nail tapping repeatedly on her chair’s armrest.

“Nem, for the love of all things sacred, please stop tapping your chair,” Kan groaned, rubbing his temples. “Too early for this.”

She moved her hand to the table and levelled Kan with a blank face as she tapped harder and faster against the veneer of the desk. Vlad glared back at her and Nemuri begun tapping a jaunty tune

“Nemuri,” Nedzu said simply from his perch at the head of the table, his beady eyes fixed squarely on the tablet in his paw, not a single trace of emotion.

She stopped tapping immediately.

“Everyone, I’m glad you could make it,” Nedzu chirped when the rest of the staff filtered into the room and took their seats. “We have an important matter to discuss–”

“Cut the crap Nedzu, where are they?” Mijima asked, ignoring the squawking indignation from the staff. Nemuri tossed him a respectful nod, eager to know as well.

“Your situational awareness is lacking.” The squawks were replaced by yelps as the staff spun around to see Shouta lounging in the doorway, looking as bored and disinterested as ever. “I’ve been here forty seconds.”

“You son of a–” Nemuri began, standing from her chair before she was silenced by Shouta activating her quirk.

“Before anything, I’m going to preface this now. No swearing or I choke you with my scarf. No arguments. Got it?” Only once he had seen each of them nod did Shouta step aside and Hizashi came in, holding on to the shoulders of a boy who broke Nemuri’s heart.

He was clearly malnourished, with dry skin and wild green curls. Scars littered the skin she could see past a Present Mic hoodie that brought on fond memories. But it was the absolute shock and awe on his face that truly made her heart melt. Nemuri was Midnight, the R-rated hero, 18+ to the extreme. To say she had a particular demographic of fans was an understatement. So rarely did she see that smile, the one of pure warmth, one that said I see you for who you are, and it’s beautiful.

“Guys, this is our foster son, Izuku.”

---

Nedzu was not surprised by the reactions, he had estimated what each of them would be and as usual, nothing strayed from his predictions Nemuri had melted, Kan had puffed his chest up with pride. Hound Dog and Power Loader both collapsed back into their seats clutching their chest and Recovery Girl was gently podding a frozen Thirteen, the Space Hero seemingly fixed in place by the smile.

He was thoroughly enjoying the reactions, he himself saw part of what the effect was. He shared little emotions with humans, but right now he could definitely feel the more territorial parts of his personality come forth. Seeing such a bright and happy smile on such a clearly damaged and hurt individual, it was such a striking contrast it almost hurt to observe. It was not unlike watching a dying star. Something so magnificent and beautiful yet devastating, nonetheless.

The boy, Izuku, certainly interested Nedzu. He had heard from his cub how brilliant Izuku’s analysis was, and his cub was rarely one to administer praise so easily. Look to Shouta’s expulsion rate if you made the mistake of not believing Nedzu. So when the teachers had died down from their fanfare and Nedzu deemed the young pup stable enough from his admiration of the heroes did Nedzu crawl across the table.

“Am I a mouse? Am I a bear,” Nedzu began.

“You’re a stoat!”

Nedzu froze. His cub froze. The room froze.

“Shouta. Online school?”

His cub had that pained look on his face before begrudgingly admitting, “Yes.”

“Not anymore. Izuku, young pup, you know who I am?”

“Of course Nedzu-sir, you’re the Intelligence Hero!” The young boy seemed to think over his words, glancing to Shouta who simply ruffled the boy’s hair before Izuku seemed to decide whatever it was. “I um… I have an entry in my notebook about you.”

“Wonderful pup. I would happily read it. How would you feel about having some lessons with me sometimes. You’re one of two people to every guess what animal I am on the first try. Absolutely marvellous.”

“It’s.. it’s nothing sir, really, anyone could’ve looked into it. I’ve seen articles where you say your favourite food is rabbit, and you’ve got a longer tail than a weasel, plus your height and teeth are indicators. Anyone could’ve made the guess sir, really.”

“Pup, trust me, it is not just nothing. You have an incredible skill, and I would like to help you hone it.”

“Really?”

“No world corruption till he’s legally an adult,” Shouta ground out.

“Of course not my cub, we will start with the Commission.”

Chapter Text

It was sixth months since Inko. Since the night. He refused to use… it. All it was good for was splattered blood and taking lives. But even then, he still couldn’t deny the comforts that the darkness brought him, especially now.

Life involved hopping from one alley to the next, hoping and praying there was some semblance of shelter to stave off the winter rain. Dumpsters overflowed with rancid scents and rotting trash, and ever since the sanitation workers went on strike, the chances of finding an empty dumpster to sleep in where null.

Null, he said dryly to himself, an empty laugh escaping his chapped, shivering lips. If only they knew now.

But even there as he huddled in the doorway of a building’s fire exit, making himself as small as possible to escape the never ending rain, he heard it.

A cry in the night.

Izuku cracked his eyes open and saw it across the alley from him. Huddled underneath a pile of wet sagging boxes was a cat, clearly having seen better days. It’s fur was drenched and matter and a piece of its ear was missing, not to mention how even from where he sat, he could see its ribs. Izuku weakly reached out a hand and to his astonishment, the cat somehow raised its head from the ground and locked eyes with him.

Two beings of pain and grief stared at each other.

And then he saw the gash. Thin yet deep across its side, he hadn’t seen it but its body had twisted when it rose its head. Izuku was tired, exhausted in his bones, but nothing and no one should suffer in their last moments. He mustered as much energy as he could find within himself to drag his weak body across the wet concrete. Izuku didn’t care for the stains seeping into his clothes, infecting his already festering wounds. He kept going till he could carefully prop the cat onto his lap and shield… her from the rain.

“Hey baby,” he said, his voice cracking. Izuku wasn’t sure when the last time he actually spoke was. “I’m Izuku.”

The cat mewled ever so gently, her tiny pained voice breaking him more than starburst scars or flying blades could. His fingers gently prodded till they found the faint pulse.

The pulse that was getting slower and slower.

He didn’t really know what was happening in that moment. Just that he couldn’t let her go on, not when the world had showed her so much hatred. Tears fell from his eyes and his shoulders shook but he did all could to keep her steady, to show the comfort she desperately deserved. His body ached with her pain, he knew how it felt when the world turned its back on you, left you to lick your wounds clean before you succumbed to them. He wouldn’t let it be too late for her, he couldn’t.

Izuku’s sobs rang in his mind, and he barely saw the darkness in the doorway curl around him, the shadows clinging to his skin as some misty cloak. It ran over his hoodie, covering the fabric before coating his palms. It was then he saw it.

He was frozen, watching the darkness coalesce around his skin, too shocked that the power was in use when he so vehemently tried to deny it. And then it… settled.

The misty darkness gathered in his palm and became denser, opaquely black and he gagged as it thickened unexpectedly into a tar-like goo in his hand. Before he could fling it off, the goo bubbled and somehow latched onto the open wound of the cat. Izuku cried out and tried wrenching his hand away but it was too late. The darkness was sucked into the wound, leaving his palm empty.

He stared in horror as the wound of the cat begun to seal itself over. A few moments passed where nothing happened. And her chest stopped rising. Izuku choked back a sob but floundered back when her coat shifted, the dirty mottled fur shining a brilliant silver. The thin spindly claws thickened in her paw pads and those once pain filled eyes opened to reveal dazzling white.

She stood slowly, assessing her new monochromatic form and gracefully sashaying under the rain. Izuku watched in shock and fear as water ran off her fur with ease, not clinging or ruining her coat in the slightest. The cat then turned and finally seemed to notice him. She padded forward and immediately rubbed her face against his neck, mewling softly.

Izuku jolted. It wasn’t possible, but he swore it almost felt like he heard something. A name.

“D-Dusk?”

She mewled and swatted his nose.

---

Hitoshi stood with the rest of Class 1-A under Aizawa-sensei’s intense scrutiny. He knew he should have just left when he had changed, but he figured he should wait with the rest of the class unless he wanted to talk to Sensei alone. And he would not embarrass himself in front of his idol. Or the hot TA He couldn’t care less about what Golden Boy could think.

Either way, he had made a mistake, because if looks could kill, Aizawa would have murdered them all.

“You all took fifteen minutes. That is unacceptable. Time is limited, I expect the time to be halved next time. We will be moving directly onto a Quirk Apprehension Test.”

"What about the entrance ceremony? Orientation? Guidance sessions? Are we just skipping those?" A brunette with a bob piped up.

“Welcome to U.A. where teachers decide upon the curriculum of their students. We will not waste time on trivial school activities you’ve already had in life when time could be spent bettering your self and your abilities. In middle school, you all underwent a series of tests to measure your physical capabilities. Bakugo, you scored first in the entrance exams. What was your ball throw distance?”

“Sixty-seven metres,” the spiky blonde boy grunted.

The hell kind of freak can toss that far naturally? Hitoshi screamed internally.

Aizawa-sensei procured a ball from somewhere in his jumpsuit and tossed it to the blonde guy. “Try it with your quirk.”

A feral grin overtook the boy’s face and Hitoshi managed to see Yamazawa cover his ears, which he decided to do too, before a resounding “DIE!” rang out

And was followed by an echoing boom that shook the Exercise Ground. Hitoshi barely managed to stay standing, and he watched as some kid with yellow hair was gripping onto the red hair guy’s… stone arm? Rock arm?

Aizawa-sensei merely held up a tablet reading 705.2 metres

“It’s important to know the limits you are at now, so you can move beyond them.”

“Awesome, we get to use our quirks,” the yellow haired boy said when he had finally recovered.

“How fun!” A pink-skin girl agreed.

Hitoshi couldn’t help but catch the way Yamazawa flinched at the word, before his eyes fell onto Aizawa-sensei, the man’s face contorted into a sadistic grin.

“Fun? If you think this is fun, then the person in last place will be expelled.”

And like that, any positive feeling Hitoshi had about impressing his idol was drowned in icy water. Of course, even places like U.A. would place an emphasis on physical quirks and their purpose.

“You can’t do that!” The brunette shrieked. “It’s not fair!”

“Fair? Are natural disasters fair, villain attacks fair? If you came here to have a relaxing time learning about the theory of heroism, make friends and have fun conversations when my back is turned then leave right now. I will not train a single person that does not dedicate every fibre of their being into being the best version of themselves possible. Go beyond, Plus Ultra and all that. Begin!”

Hitoshi was mentally planning if other hero schools could accept him or if he would have to suck it up and face joining Gen Ed. after one day in the Hero course, when a light tap on his shoulder broke him out his stupor.

“Hi, Shinsou right?”

Of course, it had to be fucking Golden Boy. How did he somehow have even more freckles than the last time Hitoshi stared… LOOKED at the guy. And there was no way someone’s eyes could shine that much and still look so deep and endless. Of course the perfect boy had to have perfect eyes, perfect face, perfect arms.

“Is your name not Shinsou? Oh god this is embarrassing.”

“Why?”

Really Hitoshi? Why? Of all the words to say, you choose why? What the hell is wrong with you?

“Why do I want to know your name? Well, I saw you silently freaking out over Aizawa-sensei’s speech and seeing as I know the quirks of all the class I can figure out why.”

His floundering mind suddenly singled in on the words and Hitoshi glared at Golden Boy. “Saw my quirk and thought you’d come put me in my place. I’m sure you’ll be as creative as every other person.”

And to his surprise, Golden Boy just huffed and smiled. “I don’t care about your quirk Shinsou, I had advice actually.”

Hitoshi heard Aizawa-sensei call the third pair up to do the fifty-metre run but he couldn’t tear himself from the verdant pools.

“You don’t have to trust me or like me. I know right now, no one is a friend to you. But know that quirk usage is allowed. See Iida Tenya there, just won the dash using his quirk. Bakugo Katsuki used an explosion.”

“I can’t exactly brainwash a ball to throw itself.”

“Why not have someone do it for you,” Gol- Yamazawa said before returing to Aizawa-sensei’s side.

The rest of the tests seemed to pass by in a blur of sweat, exhaustion, and pure spite. By the time the ball throw came around for the rest of the class, Hitoshi had yet to use his quirk no matter how many times Yamazawa tossed him encouraging nods. But he couldn’t put it off anymore. It was between him and the invisible girl for last place if his maths was right, and Hitoshi had fought too much to give up.

So when his name was called, he braced himself. Hitoshi looked to Yamazawa and saw nothing but support in those green eyes. He prepared for the backlash, for what his idol might say, what the other students might say. At least he knew one person would hopefully have his back. He felt the weight of the ball in his hand before deciding who.

“Hey Urkara”

“It’s Urak–” she began, before her eyes turned blank and she stood stock still. Everyone around them froze except Aizawa-sensei who observed the situation critically and Yamazawa who was grinning widely and rocking on his heels.

“Throw this ball as far as you can using your quirk.” The words slipped off his tongue like velvet, lacing his quirk into the words and he felt the moment the order settled into her subconscious, her body compelled as if it wanted to act this out all along.

A brush of her finger pads and an infinity score later, Hitoshi dropped his hold and breathed deeply, preparing himself.

“Woah, that was so relaxing!”

Huh?

“What is your quirk Shinsou, I felt like I was on a cloud!” Uraraka cheered.

“You don’t… care? I uh, I brainwashed you.”

“… Hope it’s clean now?”

Even he couldn’t hold back a snort at her pathetic joke and he high-fived her offered hand, walking back with her to stand in line with the rest of the class.

Not before the student with a tail glared at him and uttered the one word. That one word he thought wouldn’t breach the words of U.A.

“Villain.”

Of course it would happen. It was foolish to hope U.A. would be any different, why would it? The school had no need to stop favouring the more desirable heroic quirks, the physical ones, the flashy ones. They were part of the system that kept the divide between heroes and villains without ever observing the greyed blur between the two worlds. Uraraka took a step in front of him and glared at the tailed boy but what truly registered was the sight ahead. Not their teacher, who did look angry enough, but it was Yamazawa.

He had only seen the boy grin, act all sunshine and rainbows in the few hours of his first day. Slowly the rest of the class caught sight too. Because gone was the smile, the bright eyes. In it’s place was a feral scowl, all teeth and rage. His eyes were a cold toxic green, an acid you would melt in lest you stared too long. And all of its vitriol was directed on the tailed boy.

Thankfully the idiot had the gall to look sheepish at the utterance but clearly that wasn’t enough for Yamazawa because in a flash the boy was stood before them, holding the tailed boy up by the collar of his shirt.

“Care to repeat that?” Yamazawa asked quietly. “Bear in mind, quirk discrimination falls under the umbrella of reasons to expel a student. And as a Teaching Assistant, I have the luxury to recommend student expulsions. So tell me Ojiro Mashirao, would you care to repeat that? Or would you rather apologise before I explain every error in your utterance while seeing how long your tail can last in combat against bladed weapons? Is Gym Theta free Sensei?”

“It can be,” Aizawa-sensei drawled, having decided something on his tablet was suddenly more important.

Yamazawa dropped Ojiro in a heap and turned his glare to the rest of the class. “Any discrimination will be reported and punished accordingly, especially quirk discrimination. The threat I made to Ojiro stands to all of you. Threats of blades make surprisingly good motivators.”

“That’s all for today,” Aizawa-sensei said, finally looking up and in a split second Yamazawa was back, with his bright smile and brighter eyes. “Grab a syllabus from homeroom on your way home. See you all tomorrow.”

As the class was leaving, someone tapped Hitoshi’s shoulder and he turned to have those bright eyes on him, full of concern.

“Are you okay Shinsou?” He asked softly.

Damn you Yamazawa. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Leave before I pass out. From horniness or annoyance I don’t know.  “Really. And… thanks, I guess.”

“Always,” Yamazawa said with a grin before going back to Aizawa-sensei and pestering the man.

Hitoshi could only turn and head to the locker rooms, pulling the gym uniform off and his uniform back on, memory full of that bright smile and that simple single word. Always.

Chapter Text

Izuku was not a morning person in the slightest.

When you have a darkness-based quirk and spent more time awake at night than the usual person, the morning tends to become a natural enemy. So when the first day he would spend with Class 1-A would be doing the Quirk Assessment Test, Izuku was happy to just sit on the sidelines and observe the capabilities of this year’s students. He already had an entry for each student and some basic information he’d gleamed from the Entrance Exam tapes that Nedzu had kindly handed over to him. And more than one had caught his eye.

Uraraka Ochacko labelling her quirk as Zero Gravity when there was much more to it than met the eye. Todoroki Shoto refusing to use an aspect of his quirk that would regulate his temperature and make him a multi-faceted powerhouse. Hagakure Toru’s absolute belief that all she would be, all she could be, was purely invisible. But none of them caught his eye as much as the amethyst enigma.

Shinsou Hitoshi, with the incredible quirk of Brainwashing. Something that the biased Entrance Exams would not account for, but that was an issue for Tomorrow Izuku to tackle. Either way, when Izuku had holed up in his room with a mug of four espresso’s at 2am, blankets draped over his head and shoulders with Dusk sleeping on his lap, he watched transfixed as Shinou had taken a pipe and smashed his way into the Hero Course with pure determination, a fiery glint in his eye as he pulled people out of danger.

Now, don’t get him wrong, Izuku loved quirks, he loved them. He could, and had, spent hours upon hours analysing hero fights, villain takedowns, footage of back-alley deals. Written endless entries and page long breakdowns of each quirk he had witnessed. But seeing someone enter a biased exam, someone who had probably not been dealt the kindest hand in life, and still fight their way through?

Izuku was entranced with the boy.

And then came the next problem.

Izuku had never really had friends his age. Let alone even poke the prospect of a relationship with a fifty foot pole. His life was somewhat … unique. Ten years spent ostracised and ridiculed by literally everyone, almost a year on the streets with nothing but an undead cat, and then the rest of it spent with his true family, learning everything and anything he could. If Izuku then could see him now, he’d die. Izuku himself could still not believe his life is what it was.

So yeah, he has a somewhat good control of his quirk, and his dads say he’s good with combat. Even Nedzu compliments his analysis. But conversations? Friends? That’s an unknown factor to Izuku, an anomaly that terrified him. Pops had said socialisation was important for people his age, and Izuku had vehemently argued his socialised plenty. Then Dad had reminded him that chess with Nedzu and adjusting his Hero costume with Power Loader and Auntie Nem didn’t count. Finally, Nedzu had been the one to break it down for him, that this was vital to understanding working alongside other Heroes, ones that he would be working with in the future. And let no one say that Izuku wouldn’t do what it took to better his abilities.

And with that thought in mind, Izuku made his mind up. He marched forward, ignoring his Dad’s raised brow, and tapped the boy on the shoulder. “Hi, Shinsou, right?”

The taller boy looked at him and Izuku had never been gladder his Dad drilled facial composure into him, because Izuku was about to swoon.

Glistening, rich lavender eyes bore into him, piercing his soul and laying it bare for judgement. Sharp cheekbones cast deep shadows over his smooth porcelain skin, like an Adonis carved from marble. And if his heart wasn’t already going crazy, the thin silvery scars around his jaw made his heart ache.

But he didn’t respond.

“Is your name not Shinsou? Oh god this is embarrassing.”

And then the pretty boy just blurted out a strangled. “Why?”

Izuku cracked a smile, not letting the awkwardness get to him. “Why do I want to know your name? Well, I saw you silently freaking out over Aizawa-sensei’s speech and seeing as I know the quirks of all the class I can figure out why.”

And then that cute floundering look on Shinsou’s face contorted into a deep scowl, and he spat out, “saw my quirk and thought you’d come put me in my place. I’m sure you’ll be as creative as every other person.”

But Izuku took it with ease. Because Shinsou didn’t need someone who would argue with him, he didn’t need someone to scream at him. Shinsou needed the one thing he’d always been denied because of his quirk. Simple communication.

“I don’t care about your quirk Shinsou, I had advice actually. You don’t have to trust me or like me. I know right now, no one is a friend to you. But know that quirk usage is allowed. See Iida Tenya there, just won the dash using his quirk. Bakugo Katsuki used an explosion.”

He sighed gratefully when the anger seemed to ebb from Shinsou’s eyes and the taller boy’s shoulders dropped slightly. “I can’t exactly brainwash a ball to throw itself.”

And then Izuku gave him a smile he’d learnt from his Dad. “Why not have someone do it for you?”

Returning to his Dad, Izuku was a bit upset to see his advice hadn’t stuck. But he was nothing if not insistent and kept throwing encouragement Shinsou’s way. And then when the ball toss came, Izuku was thrilled.

Call-and-response based activation, is it purely vocal based? If someone where to clap after he asked, could he catch them in his hold? How many people can he hold under at once? Is there a cognitive strain to using his quirk? Can he brainwash animals? Can he brainwash himself? Is it actually brainwashing or hypnosis? What are the limits to what he can make people do? Can everyone be put under his hold? Can anyone escape his hold?

“Villain.”

His thoughts came to a halting stop and his eyes zeroed in on the pathetic excuse for a hero student that dared utter the word in his presence. It was time for his first lesson as Class 1-A’s Teaching Assistant.

---

“You stupid nerd, how the hell do you confuse baking powder for salt? You’re hopeless Zuku,” Katsuki growled, shoving Izuku out the way and reorganising the mess of ingredients on the island counter.

Their weekly ritual had started up again after the Sludge Incident. He had years of mistakes to make up for, and he started with storming up to the gates of U.A. with a container of his homemade cookies. When he had found the nearest security camera, he popped a few explosions and yelled until a teacher came by. Thankfully it had been one the nerd had always blabbed on about in the past so Katsuki easily recognised Cementoss. The surprise was hard to glean from a stony face, but not every day did a random middle schooler come demanding to see the ward of U.A.

Eventually he had been granted a guest pass and ever since then, every Monday was spent either at Katsuki’s place or on U.A. grounds, training and hanging out. After school had ended for the day, they spent an hour or so in the gym working out. Since neither the Hobo or Cockatoo were free to supervise, sparring was off limits.

And not that he would ever admit it but… Katsuki still couldn’t bring himself to go all out with his explosions around Zuku. Not since what he used to use them for. So no, he wouldn’t go all out with his quirk on Zuku, until Katsuki was sure he had done everything he could to apologise and make it up to him.

He had let his best friend get away once before and that was his own fault. Katsuki sure wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.

And as always, the nerd was reading his face like an open fucking book.

“The fuck you staring at?”

“You’re thinking too much again.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Of course Zuku knew, the nerd could tell you what someone across the planet he never met was doing in that moment. “Kacchan. We are here now. Not there.”

“Zuku… you can’t just–”

“I overheard from Kaminari and Kirishima that you really let Tail Boy have it when you were getting changed, even brought up specific laws about discrimination. Katsuki from then would never have done that. He would have agreed. Katsuki now though? He’s my best friend. And I don’t take kindly to people insulting my best friend. So put ‘em up Kacchan,” the damn nerd said with a grin, raising his fist.

Katsuki just tsk’d but grinned nonetheless and shoved the nerd on the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, I’m amazing and you’re obsessed with me. And speaking of obsessed… I saw the way you were checking out Eyebags.”

“Eye– you mean Shinsou?”

“You got a quirkoner for him?”

“Huh?”

“A quirk bon–”

A shadowy vine wrapped itself around Katsuki’s mouth before he could even finish. The nerd meanwhile was red-faced and wide-eyed, the exact face he knew Zuku would’ve made. Katsuki popped a few light explosions over the shadows and they melted back mist, letting his cackles be heard.

“I was right!”

“Shut up,” the nerd grumbled. “Just make the cookies already. Unless the oh so great Kacchan can’t even do that.”

“Fuck off nerd, I’ll show you cookies, they’ll be the best goddamn cookies you’ve had in nerdy life you curly haired nightmare.”

“Love you too Kacchan.”

“Nah, that would Eyebags.”

“BAKUGO KATSUKI!”

---

The lights barely flickered, casting unsteady shadows across the wooden floor. Glass bottles lined the shelves of the far wall. Behind the bar stood a misty figure, dressed to the nines and gently polishing tumblers. Sat in front of him, slouched on a stool with a busted GameBoy clasped between chapped hands, was the face of a revolution.

The screen affixed to the wall crackled to life and both people snapped their attention to it.

“We have a target. Prepare yourselves.”

And it was there, in a dingy bar hidden in the Kamino Ward, that the collapse of hero society began.

Chapter Text

Shouta sipped from his thermos and eyes over the rest of the conference room. Hizashi was sat to his left, scrawling out the schedule for the next week at his radio station. To his right, was Izuku, nose deep in a notebook and from what Shouta could glance from the hurried writing, it was an entry dedicated to Hawks’ Fierce Wings. More of the staff lingered around the room, most drawn to the plate of pastries near the door. The Yamazawa family had steered clear.

If Nedzu put out pastries, he was buttering them up for something. They knew his tricks.

Most of them.

The Rat God cleared his throat, and those mingling found their seats quickly.

“Now, I’m sure you’re all curious why I’ve called another meeting so soon after we already had one after the Entrance Exams. Fear not, there are little to no changes taking place.”

“It would be illogical to have any changes take place two days before the school term starts,” Shouta drawled. “So what exactly are you planning?”

Not a trace of emotion could be gleamed from the rat’s beady eyes, but Shouta held the stare nonetheless.

“We will be having a new member of staff to teach Foundational Heroics.” The rat ignored the uproar from the rest of the staff.

Shouta was pissed too. He had his fair amount of disagreements with his… family, but he could put up with them. Adding someone new, a stranger, this soon to the start of the year? It was not a good idea, and Nedzu had to know that. So something else was going on entirely. And if the tiny grin pulling at Nedzu’s mouth was anything to go by, the rat knew just what Shouta was thinking.

Guess they’d be having a meeting later.

“Is it a retired hero?” Izuku asked excitedly, because of course his son would bypass the entire betrayal of the matter for the chance to nerd out over a hero and get a new entry into his notebooks. Having him sit in on meetings was a regular occurrence since the boy had started U.A.

After just two weeks of personal lessons with the rat, and Izuku had finally started coming out of shell more, adding that exact sprinkle of chaos to the household that Shouta or Hizashi never knew they needed. Not to mention the strides the kid made in combat, learning the capture scarf quicker than Shota had, and mastering his quirk. And, boy, what a quirk it was. If only Izuku believed in himself half as much as he did in others to use their abilities, their kid would be unstoppable.

“Not retired,” Nedzu said slyly, tapping his tablet and making the door to the conference room swing open.

“I AM HERE”

Izuku squeaked and passed out

---

After Izuku had woken up and promptly freaked out for another fifteen minutes, Nedzu had explained All Might’s purpose and two forms to the staff while Shouta slunk away to the coffee machine, keeping one eye on his kid and the buffoon. Don’t get him wrong, Shouta understood All Might as a hero, and could respect the man. But as for the Symbol of Peace? Well, just never bring it up when Shouta has had too much to drink because that’s a night wasted on debates of its impact on crime rates and Underground heroics. Only Izuku could put up with those long-winded tirades. But the kid was still a hero worshipping fan boy, and this was All Might, there was no way his kid would say something bad.

“Is it true you can only keep up your current form for two hours and fifty seven minutes at the moment?” Izuku asked with a wide grin. “You’re so cool All Might sir, doing all you do to keep everyone safe even with your injury.”

Shouta snickered at the sight of All Might’s shock.

“My boy, that’s uh… how do you know?”

“Oh, just a theory strung together from a few videos I’ve seen.”

Shouta snorted into his mug. “Few being thousands.”

“You’re worse when it comes to cat videos.”

“Problem child.”

“Young Yamazawa, if you don’t mind my asking, how old are you?” All Might questioned. Shouta studied the man carefully, waiting for any sign of malice to appear.

“Fourteen sir, and I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Before All Might could question further, Nedzu piped up. “Izuku here was taught by almost all the staff personally in a variety of subjects. I would not hesitate to say he is the most versatile combatant, on and off the field in this room. Also, Yagi, unlike you, Izuku already has a teaching license.”

“At fourteen?” All Might asked. “My boy… you are incredibly impressive, I apologise. I look forward to working with you as well.”

“All Might sir, one more thing?”

“What is it my boy?”

Shouta sighed as Izuku bowed deeply and held up his notebook. “Can you please sign this for me?”

---

Eijirou was feeling pumped. Second day of class with a bunch of amazing people. Everyone was just so…

Manly

Everyone had given it their all in the exercise yesterday, and he couldn’t be happier to be in a class of people who all had dreams they were trying so hard to achieve. Plus, he had Mina in his class. She was one of the few people in his life that saw behind the Hardening and sharky smile. They’d been together through thick and thin. He was there when the first person called her a freak, she was there to dye his hair when he had his whole breakdown a week before U.A.

She was his sister in everything but blood. But times like this made her a bit too much.

“C’mon Ei, I know you must think something.”

“I told you Mina, they’re all m–”  

“Manly, I know.” Mina sighed and twirled around him as the pair walked to U.A., the morning breeze nipping at their skin.

He happily smiled and waved at the people who recognised their uniform and cheered them on. He would be their hero one day, the hero for the everyman. A wall for everyone to lean on. Unbreakable.

“There must be someone that caught your eye. I know your type babe, and there’s a few people in there that fit the bill.”

“Mina,” he sighed. “The only person who I think is really cool is Yamazawa. Did you see the way he just grabbed Ojiro by the collar and lifted him up. With one hand. And then he was just smiling again.”

“Yeah… and, I like what he said.”

Eijirou glanced at her, watching Mina kick a stone as they walked. “Mina. Has anyone… said anything to you since we started?”

“Huh? Oh, oh no Ei, really I’m fine. It’s just… I always feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop you know? I’m still the only one in our class that looks… like me.”

“Hey. I think you look pretty cool. And if anyone disagrees,” he began, hardening his fist and raising it into the sky. “They’ll have to deal with me!”

“Thanks babe. But let’s get going, we don’t want to be late.”

---

Classes passed by pretty quickly and before they knew it, lunch was over and it was time for their first ever Foundational Heroics Class. Eijirou was saw at his desk, waiting when the door opened and Yamazawa walked in. Eijirou knew he wasn’t the only one in shock over their TA’s hero costume.

A sleek black jumpsuit with green piping running down the sides of his legs and arms. He wore black fingerless gloves, the steel capped knuckles glinting in the classroom’s light. A forest green scarf was draped around his shoulders, eerily similar to Aizawa-sensei’s, and he had sturdy looking boots laced up to his knees.A utility belt was attached at his waist with many pockets and what Eijirou made out to be handles.

Does he have knives? Eijirou wondered.

A hood hung loosely over his head and the class yelped slightly as something moved form within it. Yamazawa simply pulled the black mask down from his face and grinned at the class.

“Welcome everyone to your first Foundational Heroics class. I’ll be TA’ing the class, while your teacher…”

“IS COMING THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE A NORMAL PERSON.”

The class went wild

---

“TEAMS ARE DISPLAYED HERE”

Eijirou looked up from admiring his costume, having been way to obsessed with how cool it looked and how well the support company had done on making his design a reality… compared to some of his classmates. But he shoved that aside. It was time to prove himself, Battle Trials that defined their progress for the rest of time at U.A.

He would work his hardest and do his best.

Teams:

A: Uraraka and Shinsou

B: Kirishima and Hagakure

C: Ojiro and Ashido

D: Bakugo and Iida

E: Todoroki and Tokoyami

F: Aoyama and Yaoyorozu

G: Sero and Sato

H: Koda and Shoji

I: Asui and Kaminari

Eijirou looked over at the tap on his shoulder, glancing about until he caught sight of the floating gloves. “Uh, hey, Hagakure right?”

“That’s me! You’re Kirishima huh. You ready to win this!”

“Hell yeah!” He cheered. “So how did they make an invisible costume?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your costume. It’s invisible right?”

“This is my costume,” she said happily, waving her gloves. “They said there wasn’t a way to get the DNA infused fabrics like Midnight has because we’re just students, so it’s better than nothing.”

“Hagakure,” Eijirou said softly as he slipped the top of his costume off, a reinforced sleeveless shirt, thin pads of armour laced between the fabric. He handed it to her. “My quirk rips my clothes… and they told me they would sort it out. I uh… I think you need to talk to a teacher about this.”

He couldn’t see her face, but he noticed the moment it clicked for her. He held his shirt out and she took it with a shaky hand and slipped it over her form.

“Let’s… let’s ask Yamazawa, I’m sure he’ll know what to do,” Eijirou offered, holding his hand out awkwardly. He just told himself to act like he would if he was helping Mina. Somehow it helped.

The pair made their way over while the rest of the class were discussing strategies of combining their quirks. Yamazawa saw them coming and came over, looking between the two. “Kirishima, Hagakure, everything okay? Costume change?”

Eijirou heard the soft wince from beside him, and gently squeeze Hagakure’s hand. “Um, it seems the support company made a mistake. I, I don’t want to sound like I’m blaming them or anything. It’s just I was given DNA-infused fabric because my clothes tear but they told Hagakure students don’t need it.”

“All they gave me were the gloves and boots. I… I thought that was what I was supposed to use.”

The pair watched as Yamazawa took in their words with an impassive face, only a single twitch of the eye. “I see. Yaoyorozu!”

The ponytail girl snapped to attention and dutifully walked over. “Um, yes?”

“Were you also told you would not be allowed to use DNA-infused fabric?”

“It’s not allowed for students, that’s what the information from the briefcase said.”

Yamazawa sighed heavily. “Please create a copy of the gym uniforms for you and Hagakure to use for the remainder of the training session. This is mandatory, you will both change and no longer where those costumes. Not until I have a visit to the support company.”

---

“UP FIRST TEAM A AS HEROES AND TEAM D AS THE VILLAINS”

“All Might, sir!” Iida said immediately upon the words leaving the hero’s mouth. “There are an uneven number of teams, how will this be remedied.”

The class turned to the quiet giggle from behind them. They turned to see Yamazawa standing by the ballot boxes, a single ball held between his fingers with the letter C written on it.

“I’ll be seeing you two soon.”

Ashido cheered and threw thumbs up.

Ojiro paled.

Chapter Text

“I’m glad we’re partnered up if I’m honest.”

And if Hitoshi wasn’t already having a strange morning, that would certainly have done it. His partner, Uraraka, was glad to be his partner.

“It’s easier to work with friends you know.”

He almost choked. Friends?

“Uh yeah, same.” Hitoshi said. Is that how people talk? Why am I so bad at this? Begins with M and rhymes with nuzzle. Shut up brain. “So, any strategies?”

“Um, well Bakugo seems…”

“Frustrated? Pent up?” He suggested. “A few screws loose?”

“Right on the nose. I don’t see him being the defensive type.”

“And Iida, the guy seems okay, but despite the speed, he’s rigid as hell. I don’t see him being able to really get into the role. Definitely defence.” Hitoshi looked up at the building. They had been given ten minutes to plan, well fifteen because of course Yamazawa had to save the day like a knight in goddamn shining armour, with his sunshine smile and stupidly emerald eyes, and their time was slowly ticking away. “It’ll probably be hidden on the third floor. They know your quirk so will probably have cleared the room.”

Uraraka knelt down and scooped handfuls of gravel from the pavement into her pockets. “Boom, I’ve got bullets.”

“Think you can float up and check what floor it’s on, see if we’re right?”

“I’d make myself to nauseous, I don’t want to become a liability right away.”

Hitoshi nodded, he could respect that. “Guess there’s no way but heading in. If we get to Bakugo, how confident are you in your sparring skills?”

“Not too much.”

“I’ll try and trap him then, you find the bomb. With the gravel you could trip Iida or at least incapacitate him long enough for me to get to you.”

Uraraka considered his words before she nodded with determined glint in her eye and she held her fist out to him. He bumped it with a smile before the pair entered the building. “Gonna wash some brains?”

“Weirdo,” he sighed, resisting the urge to chuckle. He couldn’t even describe how it felt, the complete ease this girl had with his quirk. Maybe… maybe friends wouldn’t be a bad thing here.

The tell-tale sounds of explosions came echoing from ahead, and with a nod, Uraraka bounded off up a nearby stairwell while Hitoshi waited patiently. He rocked on the heels of his boots, glad they’d added reinforced steel-caps to them, and to his gloves too, and of course Yamazawa had to have had the same thought, of course he knew quirkless combat.

“EYEBAGS!”

Here goes nothing.

“Must be nice having your boyfriend in the class, you ready to impress Yamazawa.”

“The fuck? The nerd’s not–” Bakugo’s voice was cut off when a hazy look appeared in his eyes and his posture went ramrod straight. Could have gotten a hold on him sooner, you just had to know if they were together.

Hitoshi approached carefully and extracted the capture tape from his belt and wound them around Bakugo’s wrists, only dropping his hold when All Might called out over the speaker’s. “YOUNG BAKUGO HAS BEEN CAPTURED”

Hitoshi immediately stepped back and braced for an impact of some sort, but Bakugo merely stared at the tape wound entirely around his wrists and gauntlets before throwing Hitoshi an assessing glare.

After almost ten seconds of a stare down, he finally spoke. “Good job Eyebags. But I’ll win next time.”

Taking the feral compliment for what it was, Hitoshi went to respond with something normal, something any person would say. “You wish.”

He had a death wish, which was the only explanation. You don’t just provoke the walking stick of dynamite, not if you wanted a guaranteed funeral. But of course, like everything else in the day, Bakugo surprised Hitoshi by grinning wider.

“Bring it Eyebags.”

“THE BOMB HAS BEEN SECURED. HERO TEAM WINS”

“Shit Uraraka!” Hitoshi tapped on his comms. “You good?”

“I’m fine, Iida uh, not so much.”

Gravel was perfect for clogging engines.

---

“So how should we do this, do we stick together or one of us go out there and the other defends?” Mina asked, stretching as she waited for her partner to respond. She wasn’t too worried going against Yamazawa. Sure, he had lots of training, but none of that could stop from melting under her Acid. And her partner seemed like a pretty good fighter. They had a chance.

“I’m going to beat him.”

“Huh?”

“Yamazawa. He’s cocky. I’m beating him.”

Mina frowned and stood, walking to the bomb Ojiro was facing and she took in the fisted palms shaking by his sides. “Hey, uh Ojiro if this is about what happened yesterday…”

“Shut up. You wouldn’t get it. Freak.”

Mina flinched back.

“TEN MINUTES OF PREP TIME IS UP, YOUNG YAMAZAWA YOU MAY ENTER THE BUILDING”

“Just stay back and don’t get in the way,” Ojiro spat, storming to the door and moving to fling it open.

But it didn’t budge.

He jostled the handled, pulled at it, even tried using his tail. It wouldn’t move. He pounded against it, slamming his hands on the wood but nothing worked.

She stood there, still, watching him. Freak. It’s all she ever would be. In a world of quirks where even having a tail was normal, she would always be a freak. Pink skin, black sclera, horns, acidic secretion.

She was a monster.

Her vision deemed, it seemed like the world was darkening around her. But then she heard Ojiro’s confused cursing.

“What’s going on with the light?”

Mina dared to glance around and saw it. The windows were slowly shrinking. No, something was covering them, a weird black film seeping from the edges and staining the glass black, trapping the light on the outside and basking them in darkness.

“Now, now,” a voice said from somewhere in the room.

Mina flinched.

Ojiro yelped.

“I thought I taught you yesterday Ojiro.”

Something brushed past her leg and Mina recoiled, slamming into the bomb

A horrid scratching sound pierced the room, nails dragging on chalkboards but amplified to the extremes. Something cold but soft, icy yet inviting wrapped around her arms and she could do nothing to refuse its hold.

The light flooded back into the room.

Yamazawa stood between them, a cat quickly slinking into the confines of his hood.

Mina gasped as she examined the black misty cloud on which she was floating. And Ojiro…

Was trapped up to his neck in jagged black crystals

“VILLAINS ARE INCAPACITATED. Y-YOUNG YAMAZAWA WINS”

---

He found her after class had ended. She was leaning against a tree, eyes red-rimmed and vacant.

“Mina,” he said gently.

“Hey Ei.”

He was a silent a moment before holding his arm out. He heard about what happened. Caught Yamazawa reprimanding Ojiro once again. She linked hers through his. “Want to come over tonight? Ma can cook?”

Chapter Text

One simple morning, that’s all I ask for, Hitoshi groaned internally, clutching his thermos tighter as he caught sight of the swarm outside the U.A. gates. Now Uraraka’s text made sense

Yeet

07:46     Look out for the mob

MindCleaner

07:55     Thanks for the heads up

He could honestly say Uraraka was the first real friend he had made since his quirk came in. Sure, his home life was… less than stellar. The current house was at least aware enough that they couldn’t do anything permanent, not with a hero hopeful under their roof. But Uraraka didn’t care, she didn’t sneer. She joked. She made a cheesy ass joke and Hitoshi was so glad.

What he wasn’t glad about was a sudden microphone shoved into his face.

“Are you a Hero student?”

“Is All Might teaching you?”

“How is he as a teacher?”

“What’s your quirk?”

Before he could even react to the bombardment, something heavy and strong landed on his shoulders and dragged him through the crowd. The reporters parted around the clearly unstoppable force that Hitoshi himself was getting taken along with. It was only when they were through the gates, did the slamming sound behind them finally break Hitoshi out of his shock. He looked behind him to see massive metal gates blocking out the press, and he looked to the side to see a sharky grin.

“Hey Shinbro, you good? I saw you getting harassed and couldn’t let one of my classmates get treated that way. Let’s head to class yeah?”

“What did you–” His mind whirled a moment. “Shinbro?”

“You’re my bro! It was super manly how you took down Bakubro yesterday, so quick! Your quirk is so useful for those quick takedowns.”

“Um, thanks?”

“Just stating facts! Come on let’s go, Sensei’s looking mad.”

Hitoshi looked over to where Aizawa was glaring at the gate, seemingly as annoyed with the press as the students were. He shrugged his shoulders and followed the other embodiment of sunshine who would be a staple of Class 1-A.

Once sat at his desk, Hitoshi promptly downed the rest of his thermos and it was no sooner that Aizawa-sensei walked in, and of course, was followed by Yamazawa. He was in the classic U.A. uniform, but while in the last few lessons, he had the green scarf around his shoulders, today was another matter. Instead of a shirt and tie, he had opted for a Present Mic hoodie that Hitoshi did not recognise at all. He had his blazer over it, but what caught his eye the most was the lump in the hood. Something was in Yamazawa’s hood.

“Five seconds,” Aizawa-sensei said once everyone had found their seats. “Good. It could be better. I reviewed the footage from the battle trials yesterday. Shinsou, Uraraka, good teamwork and breakdown of predicting enemy movements. Bakugo, learn restraint and anticipate your enemy rather than charging head on. Iida, reduce your rigidity, both mentally and physically. A hero is flexible of body and mind.”

The four of them took in the varying praise and critic with determination, prepared for the next time they could prove themselves. Aizawa-sensei went through the rest of the class until the one that had been on everyone’s mind became known. There was an empty desk in their class after all.

“I will not go into much detail here out of respect, but I will say this,” their Sensei began. “Like Yamazawa stated during the Quirk Apprehension Test, U.A. has a strict no discrimination policy. Be it sexism, racism, homophobia, and quirkism. You are all aware that Ojiro is not in this room right now, as he is currently facing a suspension of undetermined length until Nedzu approves a final punishment, pending board reviewal. I will not take kindly to people believing they are above their peers for a simple factor such as their sexual orientation, their quirk, or their appearance. Is that understood?”

Only when the entire class had made their agreement aware did he continue.

“Moving on to what the rest of homeroom will be focused on. This is a very important announcement, something that will define your future in heroics.” The class fell silent under the weight of the anticipation. “You will be picking a class president.”

---

Hitoshi twirled his pen, staring down at the blank scrap of paper. After Iida had mangled to wrangle the class into doing a vote, each person had been given a piece and told to write who they thought would be the best person for the role. His eyes glanced over the class taking in the options.

Iida. Too rigid.

Jiro. Too standoffish.

Ashido. Too loud.

Bakugo. No.

Uraraka. Was staring at him and shaking her head, mouthing no.

With a smile he wrote her name down and popped it in the hat Yaoyorozu had created.

After a final tally, Yaoyorozu had five votes and Kirishima had four.

“Congratulations,” Aizawa-sensei drawled without a speck of emotion in her voice. “Yaoyorozu is class president and Kirishima is vice president.”

“We promise to uphold the standard of the post,” she promised.

“Yeah, we will be the manliest duo!”

“M-Manly?” Yaoyorozu asked.

“Manly! Anyone can be manly, it’s a state of mind. Confident in the face of everything!”

Ashido just sighed. “Never change Ei.”

---

Students were swarming the corridors, he knew it would happen. The alarms had asked for an orderly evacuation but when had things ever gone correctly. Izuku remained where he was, perched within the vents, observing the chaos from the other side of the grate. His phone was in his right hand, the screen switching from camera to camera every few seconds, each angle of the U.A. grounds being displayed within a minute to him.

Students assumed it was the press. Izuku knew it was something more.

Then he felt that ever-familiar bone deep calling. Dusk had found something.

He twisted his body and crawled through the twisting ducts until he found her crouched before a grate, the one to the staff lounge if he remembered correctly. Shuffling to her side silently, he peered down and held his breath immediately. A man in his early twenties was there. Izuku knew all of the staff and he was not one of them. The light shined off his greasy pale blue hair and even from where he was observing, Izuku could make out the dry chapped skin. It reminded him of that year, the one in the abandoned building. He knew how that neglect felt first-hand.

A few moments passed as the stranger rifled through the contents of a disorganised desk. All Might’s desk, his mind helpfully supplied. When the man grasped a paper, Izuku’s eyes narrowed as the man used only his index finger and thumb. It was curious, but what made it odd was the way the man purposefully avoided letting his other fingers anywhere near the page.

Five-point touch activation. Destructive if he is that careful. The intruder of the gate most likely. Exit strategy would be dangerous indoors, could create structural instab–

The air pressure seemed to drop, and his eardrums popped as a purple mist appeared before the stranger. It wasn’t darkness though, Izuku knew what that felt like. This was something sentient and that much was apparent when a person walked out of it. But rather than a face, they had glowing eyes trapped within a matching misty purple form. Izuku and Dusk silently watched the pair walk back through the mist before they disappeared and the pressure returned to normal.

Finally taking a deep breath, Izuku turned and cracked a grin when he saw a faint red light glinting off Dusk’s collar. It was a finnicky design he and Power Loader had spent weeks perfecting, but her collar now functioned as a high-class tracker with a built in camera and microphone. The feed was directly uploaded to a secure server that only he and his parents had access to, and its first field test had gone well. Only when he was sure that the coast was clear, Izuku popped the grate open and leapt down, with Dusk landing on his head.

He got out his phone and dialled the third number in his contacts.

“What have you found pup?” Nedzu’s chipper voice was strained.

“There were two intruders in the staff lounge, I’ll send you the recording. They rifled through All Might’s desk for something, no idea what. I’ve got an idea of the quirks but it’ll be better discussed with the others.”

“Understood. The cover story is the press broke in, but as far as I can tell, none of their quirks seem able to disintegrate our gates.”

“It was the intruder based of his incredibly conscious tactile movements. I’m assuming a five-point activation, most definitely destructive.” Izuku froze as he mentally ran through the schedule for his classes for the next two weeks. “Will we be postponing the trip?”

Nedzu was silent a moment. “You were scheduled time off while 1-A is at the USJ, correct?”

“I’m assuming that isn’t the plan anymore.”

“How would you feel accompanying them as a precaution. Your role as the TA would do little to arouse suspicion, rather than having another Pro tag along.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you pup.”

Lunch had come to a close and the chaos had died down by the time Izuku had sent the videos to the staff with a short burst of his analysis. He entered 1-A’s classroom and waited for the students to come filing in before announcing the news of their trip.

---

Dusk was curious to say the least. Life was interesting to her… ever since it had stopped. That night in the alley was lost to the recesses of her mind, but all the could remember was that her Master had been her saviour, and she would give whatever she could do to repay him. And if that day ever came, where her debt would be repaid, she would still remain by his side. No one else understood the shadows crawling beneath her coat much like Master.

Nuzzling her head against his neck, Dusk curled tighter around him in his hood, relishing in the shade from those infuriating fluorescents. And the noise.

Humans were pests. Simple as that. None of them were worth her time, none of them worth basking in her glory. None but Master. Oh, how she hated when his endearing mumbles turned to the common self-deprecating comments. Yes, she could communicate with him, but there were many times Dusk wished she could speak the tongue of the lesser Man, so she could ease his worries.

She would stalk all his fears and sink her claws into them if she could.

Either way, humans were pests. They had ignored her greatness in her previous life and left her to rot, they had abused and ruined her poor Master, damaging his souls. But there were very, very few exceptions other than her Master.

The first two were the new Guards.

Yes, it had been four years. Yes, she would not trade the pats from the black-haired one for anything. But neither of them would ever be held in the same regard as Master. No one could. But they had their attributes that she would deem beneficial to her and Master’s existence. The loud blonde one attempted to give her what she remembered as delicious food, until Master had sheepishly informed him of Dusk’s diet. Or lack thereof.

She never understood why Master got nervous. Dusk found it rather interesting that she herself had no need for food. Yet another reason she was above the others.

The black haired one though. He was sneaky. Dusk didn’t think something as trivial as a… red infuriating dot could trap her mind so much. Ten whole minutes spent away from making sure Master was okay because her primitive feline mind was too transfixed by what Dusk knew was just a red light. But her body leapt and twisted in the air to catch the uncatchable. And no, it wasn’t fun, no matter how much Master said he could feel the fun Dusk was having.

So the Guards weren’t too bad. They would never be like Master. But maybe they were safer than the other lessers.

The Oracle was another matter. Dusk knew the humans liked to stay in large packs, families she believed they were called. But, the apparent head of her Master’s strange new family, was one like her. Their first meeting had been interesting. Cloudy white eyes gazing into beady black. And then… he chittered. He was prey, but also predator. Enemy, but kin. Needless to say, ever since then, Dusk had decided it was better to avoid the strange chimeric creature for as long as possible. There were few enemies out there that even Dusk herself couldn’t face. Maybe Master could.

Going from the rumbling around her body, it seemed like her Master was talking. Words were always confusing to her. She could sometimes notice the emotions some humans had, they wore emotions like a mask. But with Master, it was safer. She could feel his thoughts, his intentions carved into her very being. No words had to be passed between them, Dusk knew her Master and Master knew her. He was excited but worried, a strange combination that Master hadn’t had for a while. Something about a journey to new place.

Dusk’s tail flicked nervously. Her Master would be going somewhere… without her? He hadn’t mentioned anything, but they never went anywhere separately. Before her panic could spike, she felt a soothing reassurance run down her spine and spread to the ends of her paws. Dusk settled as Master continued addressing the group of lesser humans his age. She had nothing to worry about, she would always be with Master.

Hello?

Dusk abruptly shifted in the hood, eyes twitching around. That couldn’t have been Master, the voice was loud. And, the fact that it was an actual voice.

Is… is there something there?

With an assurance from Master, Dusk slinked down the armhole of his blazer and landed on the ground silently. She eyed a girl with strange things dangling from her ears and a boy with many arms look in her general direction, but neither really noticed her.

Kitty?

Dusk’s head whipped round to the back of the room. What she had first thought was some sort of rock or climbing perch turned out to be a human. He sat low in his chair, trying to hide himself despite how open the room was. She padded over the floor, weaving around desk legs until she was sat under his desk.

Can you hear me?

So it was his voice. This lesser being was… communicating with her. She didn’t know whether to be intrigued or insulted. Only Master should have that privilege.

Are you lost? What’s your name?

She had enough of this game.

I am your Empress. Adress me as such, she demanded. You don’t deserve my name, only Master does.

W-who’s Master… Empress?

Better. Master is better than you. Better than all of you.

Is you Master our Sensei?

Fool, I’d never let that black haired human know my secrets. Master is the green saviour.

Green… Oh, you mean Yamazawa.

He is Master.

The rock boy had seemed to relax slightly. This wouldn’t do. Humans should fear and respect her, not be comforted by her. There was only one human she would ever comfort, he deserved all her attention. It had to remedied.

Rock boy, you are my new seat. You will not talk or disturb my slumber until Master collects me.

And with that, she leapt on to the boy’s lap, ignoring his soft coo as she fell to sleep.

My name is Koji, but you can call me Rock Boy if you’d like.

Chapter Text

Izuku sighed into his capture scarf, staring enviously at his dad sat happily with a thermos full of coffee in the front seat of the bus. He didn’t understand how other people his age could have so much energy halfway through the day, without having at least four mugs of double shot coffees. Was it unhealthy, yes. But it worked. At least Shinsou looked in a somewhat similar state as him, curling up in his seat trying to sink his face into the collar of the gym uniform. Izuku stamped out the thought of taking a few more seconds to just look at the boy, choosing to instead stare hard into the ground. Until someone broke him out his stupor.

“Yamazawa.”

He turned slightly and took in the person beside him. “Yes Asui?”

“Call me Tsu. I tend to just state things as they are, no use beating around the bush.” He could appreciate that. “What exactly is your quirk? We only really saw a glimpse of it in your battle against Ashido.”

“Hell yeah Yamabro, it was super manly how you took them both down!” Kirishima cheered. “Those black clouds were awesome.”

“That glass stuff was crazy,” Kaminari added.

Izuku shuffled uneasily in his seat, shooting a worried glance to his dad. Thankfully, the bus stopped, and his dad stood tall. “Quiet. We’re here, everyone off the bus in an orderly fashion.”

He gave a respectful nod to Kurose, aware of what their speech would entail. He knew that they had a giddy look on their face beneath the astronaut helmet. Rescue heroics was dear to their heart. Kurose was a special person to Izuku. Someone with such a powerful and destructive quirk who wielded it purely for safety and the longevity of others. He knew his parents meant well when they reassured him, but when Kurose told him, it was easier to believe it coming from them. Izuku was vaguely aware of Uraraka gushing to Shinsou about her love for Kurose, but Izuku was too busy pretending to scratch his ear beneath his hood to listen. He was too focused on letting Dusk nuzzle his palm, she seemed a tad uneasy.

And he couldn’t blame her. Izuku cast his eyes across facility and its various zones. Wherever there was light, so existed the dark. As long as it was there… Izuku could feel it. The first few weeks after Inko, it had been a metre around him. After his time on the streets… four kilometres. After the three years, six months, and eight days of training with his parents and family at U.A., well…

Regardless, he extended his mind, latching on to any stray sensation that was out of place amidst the various areas of simulated chaos and disaster. As Kurose was wrapping up their speech, Izuku’s head snapped toward the central plaza where he sensed the ever familiar drop in air-pressure.

“Eraserhead,” he said neutrally but loud, calling on all his weeks, years, of training. It wasn’t time for the emotion of Dad or the familiarity of Aizawa-sensei. If Izuku’s calculations were right, and they always were, these were villains. “Central Plaza, same quirk as the intruders.”

“Students behind me.” The hero pulled his goggles down over his eyes and the class and staff watched as a misty portal opened up, a few feet tall. And then it grew. Taller, and taller, and wider. It grew till it almost reached the breadth of the plaza. And then a hand reached through.

Izuku pushed down the disgust at the sight of several disembodied hands littering the young man’s body and instead focused on the shaggy pale blue hair and dried out skin, recognising him immediately. “Five-point activation, most likely disintegration of some sort.”

“Understood,” his dad replied shortly.

“Is this the first test?” Kirishima asked uneasily, looking back and forth between the villains and them.

“No, villains,” father and son said simultaneously.

“Yamazawa, with me. Thirteen, get the students out of here.”

“Damn hobo!” Bakugo roared, being dragged back by Kirishima with the rest of the evacuating class. “You can’t take ‘em on just the two of you. There’s too many and it’s too fucking bright for the nerd.”

“Don’t worry Kacchan,” Izuku said, unholstering a thin cylindrical object from his back. Clicking a button on the side, two parts extended from either ends till he was wielding a sturdy black bo staff.

“A Pro Hero is more than a one trick pony,” his dad added, raising his capture scarf as the two descended into the fury.

---

Izuku would take his last breath before admitting Kacchan was right. It was too bright in the plaza for him to use his quirk as effectively as possible, so it seemed he would have to stick to quirkless combat. But that was never a problem.

His own green scarf shot out, ensnaring itself around a hulking man’s throat. He was more muscle than man, with a gruesome scar running across the bridge of his nose. Izuku got a good glimpse of it when he reeled the man in with a tug and slammed his steel-capped boot into the man’s chin. Not wasting a moment, he used his now unconscious foe as a battering ram against three oncoming villains before finally unfurling his staff and yanking his staff out the ground. Thankfully, none of them had bothered to steal it from right next to him but he’d make them regret it.

Izuku twirled it deftly between his hands before striking out and catching a woman across the knee and punching her throat as she fell. She hacked and clutched her neck but went down with a shoulder to the back of her head. Hearing heavier footsteps than normal, he stole a glance up to see a bull-headed man, some sort of Minotaur mutation quirk bulldozing toward his dad.

His dad who was already occupied with three villains.

Izuku ran until his lungs burnt and kicked off the ground with as much power as he could muster, launching across the air. The bull-headed villain came closer into view and Izuku waited till the right moment to hook his staff around his horns and swing his legs over onto the man’s back. He hooked them around the man’s chest, and used his staff to steer the villain by the horns out of the direction of his dad.

“Ride ‘em cowboy!” He cheered out impulsively. It seemed part of the villain’s quirk let him stampede uninterruptedly, with a downside of limited cognitive capacity. The man was a dumb unstoppable trainwreck that he was riding through villains, taking down much of the crowd in the plaza.

And then he felt it.

The increasing darkness in the entrance. Blocking the doors. He stole a glance, almost losing balance but quickly adjusting himself on the bucking villain. His worst thoughts were confirmed when he saw students begin falling through misty gateways and feeling them reappear in darkened areas of various zones.

He hoped no one was alone.

---

Hitoshi was so glad he had a knife.

It was one hell of a gamble hiding it in his uniform on a daily basis, but managing to sneak it into his gym uniform was another. He knew it was technically not allowed on school grounds, but Hitoshi had learnt early on, a knife would sooner defend him than any teacher or family member would. And of course, on the one day he thought he was finally in a place he could maybe be safe without it, villains attack them.

Has Hitoshi mentioned, he hasn’t had the best of luck in life?

And to top it off, he had landed in a pool of water with a shark-headed villain swimming toward him. But as stated, he was glad to have a knife because the villain was now swimming away with a sliced nose, leaving a trail if misty red in the water. Before Shark-Head could react further a blur shot through the water and seemed to hit the man, sending him plummeting deeper. As his lungs burned even more, Hitoshi swore a pink blob moved toward him but he yanked from that thought both mentally and physically, as something dragged him out the water.

Moments later he landed on something hard and Hitoshi heaved in a lungful of air. He took a few moments to gain his bearings, looking about at what seemed to be a ship that he landed on.

“Are you okay Shinsou, ribbit?” Asui, no, Tsu asked.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said hoarsely. “Thanks, you really saved my ass there.”

The pair peered over the edge of the boat and looked at the multitude of villains gathered in the water with their eyes fixed on them. They ducked down instantly and looked to each other. He noticed her paling skin and recognised her shaking hand.

“Tsu, look at me. I’ve got your back okay, just like you had mine. We’re getting through this. Understood?”

She took a shaky, uneasy breath, but nodded. “Any ideas.”

He mulled it over a moment, peering at the myriad of villains, many with aquative-favourable mutation quirks, when it dawned on him. “They don’t know our quirks.”

“Hm?”

“That mist guy. He said they were here to kill All Might, they’re organised kind of. But they don’t know our quirks. Why would they send you here otherwise?”

“You’re right,” she said. “They should’ve sent me to the avalanche zone, I don’t do well in the cold.”

“Duly noted. Any other parts of your quirk that could help us out?”

“I can leap and stick to surfaces. My tongue extends twenty feet. I can secrete an acid like mucus and upchuck my stomach.”

“That’s… okay. Mobility. You’re clearly adept in the water and with parkour I’m guessing. Either way, avoidance is safer.”

“I can only break stone slabs with single kicks. My legs are powerful.”

“Damn Tsu,” he said with grin, “remind me not to get on your bedside. I can distract them while you sneak under and maybe take a few out. I’ll get as many under my hold as I can to ease it for you and when enough are down, we make a break for it. What do you think?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Before they could act,  massive shadow fell on them and the pair looked up to see a looming wave slice the fucking ship down the middle.

“Change of plan,” Tsu said calmly, her tongue wrapping around his torso as she leapt down, he feet crunching in a spray of blood as she used a villain’s head as a stepping stone.

Hitoshi couldn’t help but laugh through the shock as Tsu obliterated the closest villains by simply using their faces to brace the impact of her landings. He had seriously underestimated her quirk but it made sense. Frogs had to have strong muscles and skeletal structures to be adept for jumping and considering she was human sized, that muscle and bone density would have only multiplied exponentially. Guess she literally kicked robot’s to pieces in the Entrance Exams.

Before he knew it, they had made it to the shore, with the few conscious villains making a hasteful retreat to an opposing beach, screaming about rabid frogs as they swam. He couldn’t help but blurt out, “Tsu, you’re officially my new favourite hero. Sorry Eraserhead.”

“Call me Froppy,” she said with a shaky grin, her chest heaving.

“Oh shit, you must be wiped out, here hop on,” he said, turning his back to her and crouching, “pun intended.”

She slapped his shoulder playfully and climbed aboard his back. “Thanks Shinsou. Where to?”

“The entrance? I reckon we should see if Thirteen is okay, they looked pretty bad before. I imagine the others will do the same.”

“Lead the way.”

The pair carefully followed the beach until the sand gradually shifted to stone. Hitoshi stayed low to the ground as he moved, keeping his hold on Tsu strong but not enough to hurt. In case a villain leaped out, he didn’t want to hinder her more than he already had. He seriously needed to work on his combat skills, gain some muscles. Yamazawa had some really nice ones, those biceps, goddamn.

But as they came up a few steps, they saw sight that froze them in place. A towering, muscular, thing had Aizawa-sensei in it’s claw-tipped hands. It was massive, easily as tall as All Might, with the build to match. What was worse, was the exposed brain and bird beak on it’s head, and the bulging eyes. It was a freak of nature that wrenched Aizawa-sensei’s arm back with a sickening crack.

And then…

Yamazawa screamed.

Chapter Text

Eijirou was ashamed in himself. It was super unmanly what he and Bakugo had done, and the now the image of Thirteen was burned into his mind. Part of him wouldn’t keep quiet, reminding him he got in the way, that they would be fine if it wasn’t for him.

“-with me. Shitty hair. KIRISHIMA!”

Eijirou snapped from his daze to look at Bakugo, shaking off his feelings. Now wasn’t the time. Villains all around them, fires burning in nearby buildings. But he was with one of the most powerful people in the class. And if he remembered, the blonde had a sweat based quirk. The heat would only help.

“Yeah.. I’m with you Bakubro.”

“The fuck did you just call me?”

“Let’s do this Bakubro!” He cheered, hardening his arms and chest and diving forward.

Training with Mina during the summer had paid off. While he helped her work on her strength and general endurance, she had helped him avoid stiffness and improve flexibility. If he made it out alive he would definitely thank her profusely.

He slammed a hardened fist into the gut of an incoming villain and swept their feet out from under them. Grabbing a hold of their arm, he twisted until they stopped thrashing and then lent his weight on the already straining bone to support himself. With a deep breath, he lowered the hardening on his upper body and encased his foot in a layer of the unbreakable skin that swung a wide arching kick out. He balanced on the villains arm and managed to catch the jaw of two villains with his kick.

Finally letting go of the villain, he saw Bakugo run toward him and in that moment he understood. Not a word had to pass but Eijirou crossed his arms and knelt just as Bakugo leapt forward. The blonde landed on his hardened forearms and Eijirou drove his legs up despite the burn in his thighs and launched Bakugo into the air. The blonde flipped before thrusting his palms out and raining down explosions on the villains.

And all Eijirou could do was stare in wonder. Stare at soft yet sharp blonde locks, at deep fiery ruby full of passion and determination, a grin of pride and certainty in his own talents. Mina had asked him, and before he didn’t really have an answer as to if anyone caught his eye. But this? This beautiful blonde bombshell…

Eijirou was fucked.

“What’re you staring at Shitty Hair?”

Did… did Bakugo give him a nickname! He wasn’t just an extra as he had heard the blonde call others in the class. Yeah, he was definitely fucked.

“Just… such a cool takedown Bakubro!”

“Tch, nothing special.” He raised a hand at Eijirou and he instinctively hardened but the explosion he anticipated popped off a metre to his right and behind him. He turned to see a person with an apparent chameleon quirk suddenly appear dazed and smoky on the floor. “Work on your situational awareness Shitty Hair. You better not die on me.”

“You got it bro! Seems like your attack took out pretty much all of them. Should we go help our classmates?”

“Those extras can take care of themselves. These are bunch of shitty ass villains, and if they’re all this tough, they’ll be fine. Did you see the Battle Trials Shitty Hair, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

Bakugo… he was just so… MANLY!

Other people took his crude statements at face value, but Eijirou heard the care and worry laced in his voice, not to mention clear pride and recognition in their classmates’ abilities. And he didn’t even care if people said stuff to or about him, Bakugo just took it on his chin and couldn’t care less. He just wanted to succeed, be Number One, nothing else mattered. And if there was one thing Eijirou was weak for, it was someone with a lot of drive.

His first girlfriend had been a swimmer on a national level without having an aquatic quirk at all. His ex-boyfriend volunteered at the care homes and wanted to be a doctor one day. And Bakugo… his drive was unlike any other.

“So, where are we going then?”

“I’m going to take down the warp fucker.”

“Isn’t that what got us here in the first place?” Eijirou countered.

“And now we are going to make up for it goddamn it. A fucking Pro got injured ‘cos of us and I ain’t letting that purple motherfucker act all high and mighty. Fucker had a metal brace around his neck, which means he has a physical body.” Bakugo turned to him with a feral grin. “With me Shitty Hair?”

“Got it Bakubro!”

The pair sped out of the conflagration zone and made their way down the path leading to the plaza, where they were joined by Todoroki.

“The villains said they have a weapon to kill All Might,” he said with a dry monotone voice. “They were rather easy to dispose of however.”

“We’re taking out the warp fucker. With us?”

The dual-haired boy simply nodded and ran with them up the path.

They ran up the stairs.

But were stopped by a heart-wrenching scream.

---

Kyoka was not having a fun time. Firstly, she’d been unable to join her class in the Battle Trials because some jerk from Gen Ed. with a sound quirk thought it’d be funny to blast their scream through a speaker, and she had passed out from how amplified it came in through her ear jacks. And then on the first ever Heroics lesson she goes on, a field trip no less, villains just had to fucking invade.

At least she was with Kaminari and Yaoyorozu. She’d met the guy during the exams and the two had quickly bonded over their love of pre-quirk indie music and Vine, a treasure trove that somehow no one else knew about as far as they knew. If she was honest, she knew something was up with him no matter how much he denied it. So what, sue her if she looked into if U.A. supports people with A.D.H.D. and autism. She was worried for her friend. He had made enough silly comments about his dumb mode and when he couldn’t focus. Kyoka  could see right through it. Yaoyorozu she couldn’t get a read on.

Kyoka hadn’t grown up in the best of neighbourhoods. Being musicians for a living doesn’t earn much unless you’re famous or nepotism. Her grandparents weren’t rich, and her parent’s weren’t rockstars. They taught piano lessons to kids. Their family apartment was enough for her, but she had seen enough darkness in her time to know the truth of the world. So when she walked into U.A. on day one, she knew right away. Iida, Yaoyorozu, Todoroki, all rich kids and most likely isolated in youth. It was easy as hell to read if you knew the language. Then you had Kaminari, Kirishima, Hagakure, Sato, the ones who used sunshine and smiles to hide their sadness. Three were the outliers of course, Bakugo, Tokoyami, Aoyama… the select personalities. But she herself, she fit in with the likes of Uraraka and Shoji. Strong when needed because the home was weak. She saw it in the three of theirs frayed second hand uniform and matching meal cards for those qualifying for the meal plan. But then there was a whole other type she noticed in the class. The silent ones. The hurt ones. Shinsou, Koda, Mina… and surprisingly enough Yamazawa. Yeah, he flashed them dazzling smiles, but Kyoka saw past all that.

Focus Kyoka, that guy has FUCKING SWORDS FOR HANDS!

She ducked under the falling blade and leapt to the left, watching in awe as Yaoyorozu thrust her palm forward and a pole shot out from her glistening skin and slammed into the eye of the blade-handed villain. Kyoka nodded her thanks and quickly stood, jamming her earphone jack into a woman trying to sneak up onto Kaminari. Honestly, her heart was racing a mile a minute, so it made sense the woman dropped in seconds when Kyoka sent an amplified vibration attack into the villain’s spine. Maybe the bitch would be paralysed.

“Oh fuck… thanks Jiro, didn’t see her,” he said with a wince and her eyes widened at the cut across his brow. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

The three of them huddled together as villains slowly surrounded them, until Kaminari uneasily piped up. “Uh, I have an idea… might not work but…”

“What is it Kaminari?” she asked.

“Can you make copper wire, like a strong and long one?” He asked Yaoyorozu while Kyoka kept the villains back by vibrating the ground, making it too uneasy to take a steady step. “Make as much as you can. Jiro keep the floor like that, we need the wire to spread around randomly.”

Yaoyorozu made a small tear in the red fabric of her costume around the abdomen and her skin glistened with light before not just a single strand but dozens of them began pooling at the ground. Kaminari’s eyes widened at the quality of the wire but he wasted no time in hurling out lengths of the wire into the surrounding area, thankful the villains were too distracted trying to stand straight to notice. Yaoyorozu only stopped producing wire when her skin was a sickly shade and her skin was slick with sweat.

“You did great, we’ve got your back now,” he said gently, grabbing the ends of the wire and making sure there was enough surrounding the ground around them. “Make sure you to stay right where you are, you two. Jiro, drop the attack.”

Kyoka gave him an uneasy look but seeing that determined look on his face, she made a silent prayer and pulled her ear jacks out the ground. A beat passed as the villains gained their bearings and then they surged forward.

Kaminari gripped the ends of the wires, wrapping them around his forearms and beckoned his quirk forth. It willed to explode outward, to just be released from the confines of his body but he begged, pleaded, and thankfully it listened. It flowed down his shoulders and through the wire, surging with new life. Wild, crackling arcs flicked off the live wires and the villains had not a second to react before the wire under all their feet had each of them shaking to their core.

Kyoka and Yaoyorozu tucked themselves in close, watching in awe as Kaminari channelled his power through the wire, with a genuine smile on his face. She knew this move, but it was longer than a second and he hadn’t gone into that silly mode of his. The theory she shared him with over text was right, he just needed to be grounded and have a source to push the power through. Can’t fry the brain if the electricity never gets to it.

His hands were smoking gently when he finally dropped the wires and the final villain had fallen. He sank to knees and heaved in breaths and Kyoka quickly ran to his side.

“M’fine. Not dumb,” he groaned.

“Nice one sparky,” she said softly as her and Yaoyorozu worked to pick him up, slinging his arms over their shoulders. The three of them walked together with Kaminari in the middle, slowly but gradually making their way back to the entrance to hopefully find the others.

But froze when an anguished echoing scream tore through the facility.

Chapter Text

That thing.

How dare it.

How fucking dare it.

First the villains, had the nerve to even enter the facility. And then, they dared to endanger his friends students. But while Izuku had been distracted breaking a humerus of a villain with some sort of Gorgon quirk, that thing made its move. His mind had been running a mile a minute since he spotted, a creature that sickened him for one reason alone.

Shadows were interesting things. People assumed they were simply created wherever there was no light, thought that he simply manipulate that absence of light. And he was happy to let people think that, happy to let them assume all he could do was melt and solidify the very concept of shadows. But his quirk, in truth, went well beyond that. Shadows existed wherever there was darkness. And within the human body, where no light dared enter lest the person was cut up, there was a lot of darkness.

So when Izuku sensed not just an overwhelming amount in that muscular behemoth, but enough to warrant it being multiple people, he wanted to throw up. Something or someone had managed to combine the existences of multiple beings into one hulking thing. It couldn’t possibly be alive, it defied logic, and he wanted to know. He needed to know.

The first indicator that there was more to it than met the eye was when the pale blue haired man said, “Seems someone tipped you off about my stats Eraserhead, you’re not getting as close as you usually do in combat. That means one thing. Time for the boss round, Nomu.”

The beast snapped to attention.

It has a name. Loyalty to the man, would taking him out calm the beast or send it on a rampage?

“Attack Eraserhead.”

Mottled purple hands the size of his head grabbed his dad fast enough that Izuku didn’t even recognise the movement until it was too late. One moment the Nomu was beside it’s commander, the next it was cradling his dad.

And broke his arm.

Izuku saw red.

---

Shouts of confusion rung out throughout the USJ facility and people dived out of the way. Students across the various zones stood stock still and watched as their very shadows, things latched to their forms, were snatched away from the bodies. In fact, it seemed as if the entire facility around them had brightened significantly, light flooding into spaces it rarely ever visited. Heads turned and followed rivers of shadows travelling across the facility, flowing closer and closer toward the plaza.

The pale haired man looked around wildly as a mass of writhing black misted seemed to float off the boundary of the plaza. Izuku raised a hand and part of the mist hanging over their heads was sucked down to his palm, settling on his skin. Izuku’s eyes were fixed on the Nomu with a glare as he ran forward. He slammed his hands together and the mist unfurled over his arms, travelling across his forearms and settling at the base of his elbow.

Izuku was ten paces away from the Nomu when the mist around his arms bubbled and settled into a thin layer of crystal around his sleeves and gloves, freshly formed shadow crystal gauntlets that were jagged along the knuckles. Izuku roared as he leapt forward, cocking his right arm back and slamming it forward into the Nomu’s chest.

Only for the gauntlet to shatter.

Before he could react, the Nomu tossed his dad aside and grabbed Izuku’s hand. He tried to pull it back but the Nomu’s grip was unyielding. He cried out as it’s claws begun digging into the soft skin of his wrist, drawing red beads to the surface. Tugging his arm back only made it dig its claws in deeper. With no other choice, Izuku swung his left arm up, hoping to catch the Nomu across the chin with the gauntlet he still had going but the Nomu hauled him into the air by his pierced hand and hurled him across the plaza.

Izuku cried out when his back slammed into a wall and the air was knocked out from his lungs. Spots danced in his visions as his body screamed for him to stay down, too much agony spasming throughout his skeleton. He could barely drag himself to hear the man complain about All Might not being here, and something about… killing students.

Izuku raised his head weakly and looked across the plaza to see Shinsou and Tsu huddled together, eyes wide. And it seemed that the man had noticed them too. Izuku could barely bring himself to move but he raised himself onto unsteady legs, drawing his staff to support himself. His eyes widened and he yelled out when the man reached out a hand, fingers a breath away from grabbing Shinsou’s face.

And nothing happened.

Izuku almost sobbed in relief when he saw his dad barely sitting up, a single red eye having saved Shinsou’s life.

“You’re really so cool Eraserhead,” the man said, his voice now booming enough for Izuku to make out from all the way on his side of the plaza. “Nomu, fix this bug.”

He saw a hand grab his dad’s hair. And smash his face into the ground. Twice. Three times. He couldn’t tear himself from watching the horror unfold.

“Stop,” he managed weakly. Not Shouta, not his dad. The man who brought him home, who held him when the night terrors became too extreme, who shared sips of his coffees without questions asked, who loved him with every fibre of his tired heroic being. “Stop it. STOP IT! LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

The pale haired man simply laughed but Nomu stopped, standing still and awaiting orders. “Who are you to make me do something you NPC. There’s only one of you and you couldn’t even lay a finger on my Nomu. You want me to stop? You and what army?”

Izuku was shaking where he stood, but where there was fear and worry before, all that course through him was white hot rage. Pure vitriol running through his veins and directed purely at the purple monstrosity and it’s dried out husk of a commander.

“Her.”

Izuku finally pulled his hood down, which had somehow managed to stay up throughout the fight. The man narrowed his eyes at the strange rope around Izuku’s neck until Dusk peeked her head out. And the man just laughed.

“You have a fucking cat harness on under your costume. Pathetic. What good will a cat do you NPC, my Nomu was engineered to take down All Might.”

“She’s not a cat,” Izuku growled out. “Dusk… transform.”

The cracking of bones rung out throughout the plaza as Dusk landed in front of Izuku, her small form shaking. And yet, slowly but surely, her form began to grow. Her legs thickened with cords of muscle and her spine elongated. The fur of her tail melted into a thin whip of wispy smoke and her eyes sharpened into slits. What were once thin yet sturdy claws were now thick and dripping with a black tar-like goo. And she stood tall, her head held high and muzzle pulled back as she hissed at the Nomu. It was a scratching agonising sound and the pale haired man flinched back. Izuku took a step forward, stroking Dusk’s neck. She was now the same height as him, but he knew this wasn’t a permanent fix. They probably had fifteen minutes before she had to shift back. So he wasted no time, and climbed aboard her back, pulling his staff free from it’s back holster.

The pale haired man had begun scratching at his neck, muttering beneath the hand affixed to his face. “Nomu, get rid of this NPC.”

“No.”

The man flinched at the iciness of the tone. “What did you say you brat?”

“No. You don’t get to order it around and not witness it all first-hand,” Izuku ground out. He raised his staff into the air, summoning shadows from the overhanging cloud down. They coalesced around the end and with a twist of his wrist, the mist hardened into jagged crystals. The crystallised end dropped to the ground with a heavy bang, sending cracks spiderwebbing across the ground. “You have no right to decide whether the life of others should be snatched before their time has come. Beasts following orders given by beasts following orders. Are you even the one in charge? Or are you just following endless orders being barked at you?”

Izuku’s eyes narrowed as the man stepped back, shock clear in those semi-obscured eyes.

“It’s time you see the reality of your actions. Welcome to class, I will be your teacher.”

The last thing the pale haired man saw before the cloud of darkness descended upon the plaza was Izuku’s feral grin

---

Shigaraki Tomura was panicking. Seriously panicking.

Sensei had entrusted him with this mission. It would be the first ripple in the tsunami wave that washed away the rot of hero society. Especially All Might. He was a tumour on the world, creating a cess pool of immorality. Violence breeding violence. And yet he was glorified it. Tomura was sick of the world, sick of the black and white view, sick of the fake heroes with fake smiles and fake intentions. So when Sensei had finally said it was time, that he could be entrusted with one of the Doctor’s latest projects, Tomura had been excited.

But then All Might hadn’t shown up. First glitch in the game.

And then their was that green haired NPC that was fighting with Eraserhead. But there too many kids for him to be a student according to the schedule they saw. And he was too young to be staff. Yet somehow, the brat had managed to take down a good two thirds of the villains in the plaza while Eraserhead was able to still have enough energy to take him on and avoid Tomura’s attacks. Second glitch in the game.

And then the fucking NPC brat pulled that quirk out of nowhere. Where had it been all along when he annihilated the weaklings in the plaza. Tomura had assumed that the NPC had some sort of strength enhancement quirk with the way he was laying attacks on them. Tomura swore he could’ve genuinely seen someone’s head go almost all the way round when the brat roundhouse kicked them. Third glitch in the game.

But it seemed the game had shut down completely when the brat had lowered that dome. Hence the panicking. Tomura usually kept his cool. He had been through a lot of crap, hell, he was the chosen student of Sensei. He survived each and everyone of the Doctor’s weird, required experiments. Sparred countless times with the Nomu’s he now ordered. But one thing he could never overcome in his twenty one years, was the dark. Usually it wasn’t too much of an issue. He would make out the shape of his hands, details in the room like the amount of tiles in the ceiling and how the left most row were all slightly wider than the others.

But right now, standing amidst the descended shadow cloud, Tomura could see nothing. Not even an inch in front of him. Everything was completely black, not a microscopic speck of light in sight. He felt his chest heave and breath quicken but all he could process was the lack of anything. And then it came, like it always did. Because somewhere in the back of his mind, darkness meant raised hands and a yelling man. It meant a crying woman and a sniffling girl. It meant quiet barks of something that made his heart warm. And none of it made sense. He had never felt warmth. Time before Sensei was cold and unforgiving, Sensei had told him. So why did he have memories of a horrid man before Sensei, a loving woman, a lying girl and…

Mon-chan…. Who is Mon-chan?

“Darkness makes us face our fears head on.”

Tomura whirled around to where the voice was, or at least he think he did. A dizzying sensation was slowly gripping onto him the longer he stood in the blackness.

“What does it make you see?”

He clutched his chest, his pinkie finger unconsciously raised away from his shirt. There were images flashing through his mind, like an old film reel playing on repeat. Times of happiness and anger. Somehow, it was impossible, it had to be… but somehow, it was a life before Sensei. Before the itching that never, never, never, stopped. But it couldn’t be.

Sensei doesn’t lie.

Sensei couldn’t lie. Sensei is good. Sensei is righteous. He stuttered in his mind.

“I see your shadows… they’re clear to me.”

Sensei is good. Sensei is righteous.

“You think you are Tomura Shigaraki.”

Sensei is good. Sensei is righ–

“But you are Tenko Shimura.”

---

Izuku knew the moment the young man collapsed into a mumbling heap clutching his hair that he was no longer a threat, so he turned his gaze onto the mindless beast that stood masterless. But that didn’t make it anymore dangerous. It seemed the beast sensed a disturbance in it’s master and despite the darkness, it still sensed Tenko’s presence.

Because that was Tenko Shimura and not Tomura Shigaraki. The shadows of one’s soul were easy to observe when Izuku bathed both him and his target in darkness. Mental darkness was still an aspect of his quirk that was newfound to him. Not to mention his… souls.

The approaching Nomu gained his attention and Dusk hissed at the creature. Izuku tightened his grip in her fur as she launched forward and sunk her class into it’s skin, dragging them down its arm but Izuku watched as the injury sealed itself over.

Enhanced Strength, Regeneration, some sort of Absorption or Nullification. One definite weak spot, the brain. Only option, overwhelm the body and target the flaw.

Dusk understood him before he had to worry about a thing and she pounced back from Nomu as it swung its arm. Had they still been on, it would have thrown the pair much like it did to Izuku earlier. But instead, she did something he wasn’t expected and used her back paw to cut the Nomu’s hand.

And the hand dropped to the ground.

The mindless creature stared at it a moment as it’s body worked to regrow bone and muscle, giving Izuku the time he needed so desperately. Dusk had eight minutes left in this form and her own strength was nothing against Nomu’s. He couldn’t risk her getting any more hurt or… no, that hadn’t happened since he found her in the alley the scar was still across his stomach today. So he slid off her back and despite her clear protest, dragging his crystal war-hammer with him.

“Protect Dad okay?” He didn’t dare take an eye off the Nomu’s regenerating hand, but still offering her a hand carding through her fur. “It’s slice and dice time.”

Dusk mewled softly but bounded off outside the dark cloud. Izuku vaguely heard yelps of surprise from his students, but he focused on the Nomu. Gripping the end of the staff tightly, Izuku hauled the hammer up with burning arms and swung it at the Nomu, letting go of the pole just at the right moment.

The jagged edges sticking out of the crystal hammer managed to embed themselves into the Nomu’s back. It barely turned its beaked head to stare at him with empty eyes before kicking it’s leg back to get him. Izuku instinctively raised his crossed arms and a portion of the cloud solidified into a wall, but the force of the kick was enough to blow him back a few feet. Izuku breathed deeply and prepared himself. If this worked then it would be great. And if it didn’t… All Might would have to get to them fast.

He swirled his wrists through the air and the cloud around them thickened, curling over his arms and trailing over his costume until he was covered from his feet to his jaw in writhing darkness. Izuku saw the shocked expressions of many students and thankfully, his dad draped over Dusk’s back. It was time to end this.

With a massive yell, crystal javelins shot out from the shadows surrounding his skin, thick piercing poles of blackened glass that whistled as they flew and sank through the Nomu’s skin. The first one went clean through the Nomu’s palm. The second pierced it’s chest. The next dozen made it look like a pincushion. But they kept coming. More and more, the javelins growing less aerodynamic and more jagged, less thin and more wild. Until finally, Izuku stood there in his costume without an essence of darkness left on him.

The Nomu had been pierced by dozens upon dozens of crystal javelins, a puddle of black blood oozing around its feet. Even those empty eyes were purely lifeless. But Izuku always made sure.

He pulled out his knife, the most simple of his weapons and his most trusted. He used the interlocking sections of the crystal to climb the Nomu’s prone figure before he was face to face with it, and plunged the knife into it’s brain. It seemed the Nomu had enough life left to scream its final word and with a twist of the blade, Izuku ceased it’s sounds.

He hopped off the corpse, swaying on his feet. He looked over himself, grimacing slightly at the amount of tears in his costumes and the bruises he could feel forming. It already hurt to breathe and the black spots dancing in his vision definitely weren’t his quirk. A faint booming sound came from his right and Izuku barely had energy to see Kacchan flying toward him. Behind his friend he watched Tenko fall through a purple hole but then sight was blocked by worried eyes.

“Zuku? You damn nerd, you fucking overdid it,” the blonde cursed, but Izuku could hear the worried tinge to his voice. He spared a glance down and saw the greyed skin of his fingers, as if he dipped himself in monochromia up to his knuckles. His friend just held him tight and close. “I got you nerd. Hobo’s okay too, the hairball is with him.”

“S’not hairball,” Izuku slurred.

And then the world went black.

Chapter Text

Hizashi had never been more grateful for Dusk. The second the tracker on her collar went offline, the staff knew something was wrong. Izuku would much sooner risk damaging his own equipment, put his own life on the life, rather than do anything to endanger Dusk. She was his lifeline, his best friend, she kept him going. And then each camera to the USJ facility shut down, and none of their communications went through.

And it only got worse when minutes later, Tensei’s younger brother came running down the paths connecting the varying areas of the U.A. campus. All Might had gone on ahead, why wouldn’t he, but Hizashi was shaking as he ran alongside the rest of the staff. Nem kept stealing glances at him and he knew, but his lips were pressed into a thin line.

They had to be okay. His husband was one of the most ruthless and efficient combatants he had ever faced, and their son was a ass-kicking enigma of his own. Not to mention the leaps in training Dusk herself had made. He hoped she wouldn’t need it, but her transformative abilities would definitely help against the villains.

That’s where they were running, into the heart of the storm. A swarm of villains had invaded the USJ and thanks to Tenya, the heroes were finally made aware. And as the facility came into view, with the group of injured, empty-eyed students huddled around All Might, Hizashi felt the first crack in his heart. He froze, the other heroes rushing forward to direct the oncoming police and ambulances and reassure the students. But Hizashi froze.

Because the group of few medics who had gotten there first were wrapping bandages around a weeping wound on Shouta’s head. He could barely make out his husband beneath splintered bone and mangled flesh. His breakfast threatened to spill past his lips, but he forced it down. The medics were taking care of him, Shouta would be fine. He had to be fine. He couldn’t lose Shouta, they had to be together. He couldn’t do loss again… not after Oboro. Hizashi took an unsteady breath and forced his fists to stop shaking. He recognised Kurose behind closing ambulance doors, their back looking worse for wear. His family had been put through the ringer.

The familiar sound of curses being barked out drew hit attention, and Hizashi turned to see a sight that was ever so bittersweet. There was his son, looking worse for wear. Bruised cheeks, blood dripping down his arms, and his fingers were all grey.

He went too far, Hizashi mused.

All in all, his son was not doing well and clearly the medics around him were trying to assess the damage. But of course, his overprotective Pomeranian of a best friend was not allowing a single person near the boy.

“Back of you masked freaks, I don’t care how many medical degrees you have or any of your stupid qualifications. I’m only letting Mic-Sensei check him out, so BACK THE FUCK OFF!” he yelled, crackling some weak explosions with one hand while the other made sure Izuku would not slip off his back. And even when he was somehow cursing out medics, Katsuki kept his volume in check enough to not jostle his friend.

“I’m here Bakugo. I’ll take it from here and make sure he gets checked out,” Hizashi told the medics, flashing his classic Pro Hero smile to assuage their worries. The medics left and once he was certain the other students were pre-occupied with talking to police or medics or other heroes, Hizashi turned his attention to Katsuki. “How’s he doing?”

“Bruised and banged up as fuck, but that’s not what I’m worried about,” the boy growled out, holding one of Izuku’s hands up to reveal the greying flesh closer for Hizashi to observe. “I tried some light explosions, but they won’t fade.”

“Don’t worry kiddo, they’ll only fade when he’s awake. Katsuki, are you okay?”

“I’m fine cockatoo. We all got split up, I ended up in that fire spot with Shitty Hair. The villains didn’t stand a chance.”

“I’m glad, but still get checked by a medic,” Hizashi said, holding a hand up to silence Katsuki. “I know your quirk kiddo, your wrists are probably strained to hell and back right about now. I’ll take Izu.”

The boy grumbled for a moment before handing over Izuku and walking over to the area where the medics had set up to treat injuries, not before looking back. “Let me know when the damn nerd wakes up, I’m killing him for going overboard like that.”

“Got it kiddo.” A soft mewl drew his attention, and Hizashi carefully crouched down with Izuku in his arms, peering into the bush. He smiled at the white eyes looking back it him. “Hey girl, you coming with?”

Dusk leapt from her hiding spot in the bushes and latched onto Hizashi’s arm, climbing her way up till she was sat on his shoulder, her tail curling around his headphones. Her eyes were fixed on Izuku’s battered and bruised form, a broken sound escaping her.

“He’ll be okay sweet girl. He has to be,” Hizashi reassured.

---

As soon as his eyes cracked open, Shouta tried to shoot up only to be restrained by bursting pain across his body and a pair of hands pushing him gently back down. He could barely make anything out until something touched his face and suddenly he was assaulted with a slit of light in his right eye.

“Sho? Are you okay?”

He would know that broken voice anywhere.

“Zashi,” he said weakly, his voice hoarse and head swimming in agony. “Where Zu? Kids?”

“Everyone’s okay, you did good.”

Shouta sighed softly and finally took a moment to assess his surroundings. Despite the infuriating pain radiating across him, he could make out the stiff plushness of the mattress beneath him and the scent of antiseptic clinging to the air. Not nice enough to be Recovery Girl’s office but definitely clean and uncomfortable enough to be a hospital. Which meant his injuries had to be bad.

“What happened?”

“Do you remember much?” Hizashi asked slowly.

“Plaza, villains. Leader was young, had a… Nomu?”

 Hizashi sighed softly. “Yeah… that thing. It’s disposed of now.”

“All Might?”

“Sho… do you know what exactly happened before you passed out?”

He scrunched his brow as much as he could with bandages tightly holding his body together. Flashes of the plaza shone in his mind, taking out villain after villain, a dance of dodging against their leader and then, the Nomu. Whatever it was, his quirk had no effect on it. It was clearly fast as hell, strong as hell, probably born in Hell. Shouta vaguely recalled using his quirk on the thing’s commander before everything went black.

But between it all… a glimpse of green.

“What did Izuku do?” Shouta asked weakly.

“He took it down. Alone. Dusk was looking over you and according to the students’ statements, ‘the darkness travelled to the plaza’. Sho, he drained the shadows from the entire facility to do it, practically turned the Nomu into minced meat.”

“Grey?”

“Up to his knuckles. He’s asleep right now, I was just with him,” Hizashi said and Shouta finally took a moment to really look at his husband. He saw ragged green eyes heavy with sleepless nights. “He had a concussion, three broken ribs… a fractured wrist, not to mention the amount of bruising along his spine. Neither of you have enough energy for Recovery Girl, so it’s a few more days here for the two of you.”

Shouta’s heart ached to rip his I.V. out, wrench the monitors from his hand and run to Izuku’s room, and card his hands through those unruly green curls. “How long?”

“It’s been two days.”

With what little energy he had, Shouta grasped Hizashi’s hand and tugged him forward until the blonde was nestled against his side, his head on Shouta’s chest. It was a routine the pair had gone through since their own time at U.A.

It started back when Shouta first learnt what loss truly meant. Up until U.A, Shouta had crafted walls and intricate passages to lock his heart beyond, having known first hand how much more betrayal stung when it came from those closest to you. But when his true friends, his family, were rocked with the loss of one of their own, the couple had been at lost.

Oboro… he was their light. Anyone who dared call Hizashi or Shota slur when they first started holding hands would be whipped round the face with a dense cloud. His contagious laughter filed rooms, and his smile, it was so goddamn bright. And after that day, during their Work Studies, Shouta had to witness first-hand the extermination of that light.

Shouta grounded himself with Hizashi’s presence. But Hizashi always needed something more, and right now as they laid together on the rickety hospital bed, he knew his husband was listening to his heart as it thrummed in his chest. The world was clearly in chaos, the scales of good and bad being upended, but right in this moment, all Shouta could bring himself to think of was how goddamn lucky he was for the greatest husband and the most amazing son.