With Great Power

by Nobody (NobodyInWonderland)

Summary:

All for One takes over Japan, and Izuku has to deal with the results.

Notes:

Warning: Mentions of deaths of canon characters. All happen off-screen and before the events of this fic, but they may be briefly referred to.

Disclaimer: Despite the title, this story doesn't have anything to do with Spiderman.

This story is being translated into Russian on Ficbook.net! You can find it here.

Chapter 1: Great Responsibility

“Izuku, honey, you don’t have to do this.”
“This is why I became a hero, Mom.”
“Young Midoriya, I agree with your mother. This isn’t your responsibility.”
“I think it is, though. Isn’t this what my Quirk exists for? What you gave me this Quirk for?”
“I gave you One for All because you deserved - deserve - the chance to be a hero, not so you could throw your life away like…”
“Yagi-san. I know what happened to your mentor. To Nana Shimura. But this is different, I have to do this.”
“Young Midoriya…”
“Izuku…”
“I can’t sit back and watch more people die because of him. Not when I have this power. Not when there’s a chance. It’s the responsibility of the bearers of One for All to stop him, and there’s no more time. It’s too late. He’s won. If he’s not taken down now, if I leave it to ‘future generations’, do you really think there will be a world left for them?”

 

 

Izuku Midoriya was sixteen when the report came in that All for One had escaped from Tartarus.

There was no warning. As far as anyone could tell, All for One abruptly decided one day that he wanted to be elsewhere. The lights flickered off, and when they came back on again, Japan’s most feared supervillain was nowhere to be found.

The mystery wasn’t in how All for One escaped; the man had never hid that the Quirk suppressants were less than effective on him. The mystery was why All for One had waited so long to leave, and why he chose to do so when he did. As the man wasn’t around to answer, it was to remain a mystery.

The League of Villains and their associates abruptly melted into the shadows a few days after All for One’s escape - a spectacular feat considering the sheer scale of the Paranormal Liberation Front that they led. Kurogiri disappeared from Tartarus at the same time, an occurrence easily blamed on All for One as well. He was just as impossible to locate afterward as the rest. Occasionally a known member would show their face in public, but for the most part, they might as well have never existed.

Toshinori Yagi worked himself nearly to death, investigating alongside Tsukauchi every possible lead to find where All for One had disappeared to. Izuku offered to help, but was told to focus on his studies. So he did, reluctantly. He graduated from UA at the top of the class on a beautiful spring day, alongside his fellow Class 1-A students, friends, and compatriots. At this point, all of Japan had heard their names, and they were anticipated to be the best and brightest of their generation.

 

 

Izuku Midoriya was eighteen and newly graduated when Japan fell.

Yagi caught All for One’s trail much too late, as the supervillain led Japan’s Most Wanted out of the shadows to brutally rip their way through heroes and government. The Liberation Army alone was a force to be reckoned with, and All for One himself was responsible for the deaths of many of Japan’s senior top heroes, Endeavor among them, with many more missing. The hero Eraserhead miraculously managed to halt All for One for a full minute, defended by the sacrifices of the heroes (and a few vigilantes who showed up) fighting alongside him, before he was forced to blink. While no one could claim to have seen a body, most assumed that All for One would never let him survive the indignity. Rumors were that the National Diet Building’s interior was soaked in the blood of the government officials caught by surprise when Shigaraki led the senior members of the League of Villains to carve a path through everyone who was anyone.

The ambassadors and visitors from foreign countries were essentially the only people of importance left untouched by the government’s violent overthrow. They quickly evacuated to their own countries, many helped by Japan’s younger, newer heroes while the more experienced pros fought on the frontlines. Most nations chose to leave Japan to its fate after hearing of the power that so abruptly laid waste to the country’s finest. The rest remained caught in endless debates of what sort of aid they might send, and so effectively did the same thing.

By the time All for One rounded up terrified members of the media and declared himself the new Supreme Overlord of Japan, every remaining hero or government official with a modicum of intelligence had gone to ground. It was a stark reversal of affairs. Villains patrolled the streets while the heroes hid. All for One’s distinctive skull-shaped mask was as much a symbol of terror as All Might’s smile had been a symbol of peace.

Izuku himself was lucky. Despite his face being known, he still frequently went unrecognized due to his unremarkable appearance; it was easy to change his hairstyle and clothes, go home to his mother, and take up the identity of a normal student whose preparation for university had been interrupted by recent events. His mother had never been anything more than a simple housewife, anyway. His mentor and former Symbol of Peace, once known to the populace as All Might, was harder to hide; but there was no reason for him to roam the streets. Especially not when Yagi was missing his Quirk and several internal organs.

Being in hiding hardly prevented Izuku from striking against the villains, of course. Hit-and-run tactics were the name of the game - sometimes by himself, sometimes coordinating with his fellow heroes over text. With great effort, they finally managed to take down Re-Destro himself. Bakugou earned the final kill, shoving his entire hand into the villain’s mouth before detonating it.

They didn’t want to kill, never wanted to kill, but there were no prisons any more. If they left them alive the villains would immediately be back, stalking the streets. Bakugou knew this, and chose to take that burden on himself as much as possible. No one could quite meet his eyes afterward, if only because Bakugou refused to meet anyone else’s.

With the worsening public order and more heroes hunted down by the day, Izuku knew they were on a time limit. So far none of Class 1-A had died - being newbie heroes, they’d been held back by the more experienced pros - but that was unlikely to last; and Izuku could hardly call himself a hero if he allowed so much death and devastation to continue even if the survival of his friends and family were assured. This wouldn’t end until All for One himself was removed.

Izuku, as bearer of One for All, the Quirk created by All for One’s own actions and handed down to be his destruction, knew his duty.

Yagi tried to persuade him otherwise, but gave up quickly. What other choice was there? How long could Izuku delay until he got strong enough to face All for One? Would he ever be strong enough?

Izuku squared his shoulders, tried not to join in the tears of his mother and mentor when they said their goodbyes (and failed), and made his way through the streets (and over rooftops, across alleyways, occasionally dropping down on a villain’s head when he spotted a terrified innocent being menaced) toward the Tokyo Imperial Palace that All for One had claimed for himself.

He couldn’t regret his decision to face All for One, but he did wonder if he should have passed on One for All first around the time he found his cheek being ground into the dirt, knees and upper arms pinned by tentacles, One for All refusing his call, and a hand almost gently brushing his forehead as All for One’s eerie mask loomed above him.

 

 

“So All Might’s successor finally comes to ‘finish me off’, I see,” All for One murmured.

Izuku gritted his teeth. “That’s Eraserhead’s quirk, right?” One for All vanished the moment All for One turned his head in Izuku’s direction. It didn’t take a genius to make the connection; Izuku felt nauseated at the thought. If his former teacher hadn’t died or escaped immediately, there was no telling what horrors All for One would’ve inflicted on the man who nearly took him down.

“Erasure has its limitations, but those are easily resolved with the right quirk combination, and it does possess an excellent range of use.”

Maybe he could keep All for One talking while he looked for a way out. “You regenerated, didn’t you? You didn’t have eyes when they locked you away. Why do you even wear the mask? You don’t need it to breathe any more, are you trying to hide your face?” Probably to make those who knew of his previous injuries underestimate him, though Izuku doubted that anyone would throw less than 100% of their strength at him after watching him slaughter his way through Japan’s finest.

“You’re an astute one, aren’t you. Perhaps you would be willing to discuss it over tea? This position is hardly what I would call conducive to civil conversation, and I wish to offer a chance to parlay.”

What sort of trick - no, it wasn’t important. Izuku had come prepared with backup plans. His old teacher’s Quirk threw a wrench in things, but after his rocky start with One for All and years with Eraserhead as a homeroom teacher, Izuku had never fully relied on quirks alone. He wasn’t truly defeated yet. He brought a stealthy hand toward his utility belt -

“Ah ah ah,” All for One chided. The fingers pressed harder against his forehead and Izuku froze. “Oh good, you’re aware of the dangers I present. I was wondering, considering that you came to fight me without backup. Tell me, do you have any self-preservation instincts whatsoever? Can I even trust you not to try something absurd like attacking me the moment I let you up?”

It would certainly be helpful if he could convince All for One to let him up, but Izuku had never been a great liar when put on the spot and he knew it. “Nope.”

All for One paused. When it became clear that Izuku would respond no further, he sighed. “How rude. I simply want us to have tea and discussion. You’ll be free to go back to failing to kill me afterward, I promise. One for All users are all the same, I swear, all violence and no peaceful conversations like human beings who aren’t savages.”

You’re one to talk, Izuku didn’t say. “And how do you expect me to trust you to not poison the tea or mind-control me the moment I lower my guard?”

All for One’s mask loomed closer. “I don’t think you understand, Izuku.” Izuku shivered at the use of his first name, at the fingers that tenderly stroked his forehead as the hand holding his head against the ground tightened in his hair. “I could do so many things to you right now. Crush your skull like an egg, cram your head so full of Quirks your brain melts from the pressure. I could rip you limb from limb with a thought.” The tentacles flexed and Izuku pressed himself closer to the ground. “I could knock you unconscious and pump you full of Quirk suppressants, strap you to a chair, and force you to listen; or hand you over to the good doctor and have him twist your mind and body so thoroughly that your friends would never recognize you as you hunt them down at my command. It’s an art he’s perfected under my tutelage, and while that Quirk of yours might prove a challenge, I doubt it’s anything he can’t handle. None of these things are happening, because I would rather have a civil negotiation without restraints and with your ability to leave at any time fully intact. I promise you, it’s the best offer anyone who tries to assassinate me will ever get. Now, do you insist on turning it down like an imbecile, or will you accept my generous offer of parlay? Choose.”

The bloodthirst in the air made it difficult to think, but Izuku struggled through anyway. If All for One truly wanted to talk, he’d be a fool to turn it down; he’d hear the man out and then decide where to go from there. He wasn’t quite ready to agree though. “Parlay implies there’s something to negotiate.”

“Perhaps there is.”

“And what if the only thing I’ll be satisfied with is your arrest and the reinstatement of the government?”

“Negotiation, Izuku, revolves around compromise; in short, neither of us are likely to get precisely what we want. But there’s no chance at any sort of peaceful solution without talk.”

“And you do love to hear yourself talk, don’t you.” Izuku sighed. “Fine, fine, I promise not to attack until this tea party is over.” It was strange to be lectured on peaceful solutions by a supervillain anyway.

Both hands fell away from his head, and Izuku shifted to his feet, only to rock back when he found himself wearing a t-shirt, plain green hoodie and jeans rather than his hero gear. All familiar, much like certain ones he had back at home in his closet.

“Clothing Swap is a surprisingly useful Quirk for an invalid who finds donning a fresh change of clothes difficult.” Izuku could hear the smirk in the supervillain’s voice as he straightened. “Don’t worry, your gear is safely at home, or wherever you left those clothes. I thought this would be more comfortable.”

And why didn’t he do this in the first place to prevent whatever tricks Izuku might pull? No, there was a better question, Izuku realized as he felt a familiar spark in his veins. “You’re letting me access my Quirk?”

“Of course. It’s hardly a fair negotiation without some trust, is it? Do try to restrain the urge to immediately start swinging your fists again. I will not be taken by surprise, and I’d rather not repeat the first time. This way, if you please.”

This was confusing. This was far too confusing. All for One was supposed to be evil incarnate, not someone who offered parlay to the person who tried to assassinate him. Someone who offered tea. Who casually used Izuku’s first name with an utter disregard for social conventions. Previous One for All users certainly hadn’t had this courtesy extended. It was definitely a trap. Well, the only way forward was to spring the trap, Izuku supposed.

Izuku was about to have tea and parley with the two-hundred-year-old supervillain now dictator of Japan, while dressed in a hoodie and jeans. He held down the hysterical chuckle at the thought as he followed the broad back away from the crater he’d left in the palace garden.

 

 

Izuku felt an irrational sense of betrayal at the beautiful, traditional room with modern furnishings he found himself in. He knew better than to expect a dark lair filled with stolen riches, littered with skeletons, and decorated with the blood splatters of the foolish mortals who dared approach. Yet something about the scene screamed wrongness. Even the way the man poured tea into two delicate teacups and set one in front of Izuku was somehow abhorrent.

All for One touched his mask, and in a flash a mask that resembled the former one but exposed his mouth and an angular jawline replaced it.

“So you trust me to have my Quirk but not to let me see your face?” Izuku snarked as he glared at the teacup on the beautifully polished wooden coffee table in front of him.

The monster settled back into a comfortable chair with a happy sigh and sipped the tea. “You would do well to learn the difference between offering trust and giving the enemy intel, Izuku.”

Izuku eyed him, then defiantly picked up his own teacup and lifted it to his lips. This had to be an expensive brand, he noted at the taste. He was pretty sure he recognized it from one of Momo’s study sessions he’d attended. Only the finest for Japan’s resident demon. “Alright. So parlay. I told you what I want, but what do you want so badly? This isn’t your MO, so it must be pretty important.”

“Isn’t it?” All for One murmured. “I’d rather start with what you want,” he said more loudly. “Tell me, Izuku, what do you think would happen if my people and I were arrested this instant - by yourself, I suppose, since the police are absent - and I went along quietly?”

“Improvement.”

All for One tutted. “Seriously, Izuku. I want to hear your thoughts. The effects on myself and those who work for me, the effects on Japan. Think.”

Izuku thought. The first was easy enough. “You’d be taken to prison. You’ve dismantled most of those, but with you arrested, many of the guards would be willing to come back to work. I might have to hold you for a day or two, but you yourself said you have Quirk suppressants on hand. I could make it work.” If he couldn’t, he supposed he could take a page from Bakugou’s book if he had to, but he wasn’t going to say that.

“And after that?” All for One nodded encouragingly.

“Well, I suppose you’d all be left there to rot, which you’d deserve. Since you’ve regenerated, we don’t have to worry so much about killing you with the stronger Quirk suppressants, so we’d hopefully be able to hold you this time.”

“Of course. And where would Japan be after that?”

“Busy reinstating the government.”

“Perhaps,” All for One said. “Or perhaps Japan would succumb to the fate of so many countries that have attempted to build or rebuild a government for themselves, and it would be torn apart by the process. I did kill anyone who could claim ‘rightful’ leadership, after all.”

“Oh,” Izuku said. He’d never really thought about it, but he’d studied enough history to understand what All for One was driving at. Hiding could get rather boring when one wasn’t waging guerilla warfare on the villain population, and Izuku had developed a morbid interest in how dictatorships arose, half-wondering if the current situation could have been prevented somehow. The conclusion was that most tactics of avoiding a coup were rather useless against an immeasurably powerful monster leading an army; he might as well have watched old Godzilla movies for ideas on how to kaiju-proof a city. But the knowledge would be useful here. “Like the French Revolution? A new dictator is as likely to emerge as a proper government when there’s no one serving as a unifying factor.” He flinched at All for One’s toothy smile. “But that’s less likely to happen in this case.”

“And why do you think that is?” The curiosity sounded honest.

“Because we already have a government system in place, we simply need to hold elections and reinstate it. It’s a problem that we don’t have an imperial family any more thanks to you, but since the monarchy has been mostly ceremonial for centuries, we either appoint a new Emperor or amend the Constitution to function without one. Admittedly, we’re pretty resistant to constitutional amendments, but this is a special enough case that we might actually manage it. In the meantime, we call in the heroes and government workers you haven’t managed to murder to keep the peace and ensure the results of the elections are not tampered with. And then the world would keep spinning without you.”

“Excellent, though you’re missing a few facts,” All for One said. “For example, the government wasn’t operating by the Constitution to begin with. The censorship, the denial of due process and fair trial, the complete neglect of habeas corpus; one could argue that equality before the law is ignored due to widespread Quirk-based discrimination, though I suppose Quirks were never fully accounted for in it, a case of neglect if there ever was one. However, the Constitution itself was supposedly based on the concept of jinkaku, protecting the elements that form a person’s individuality and uniqueness. Their individual quirks, if you will, in whatever form that word takes.”

All for One stood and began to pace in front of a massive window. Izuku wondered if the dramatic shadow he threw across the room was intentional. “Yet the government chooses to discriminate, to suppress, to criminalize those expressions of individuality that are intertwined with the DNA of most of the population, out of some apparent belief that these extensions of one’s own physical form can only be used for violence. Even the hero licences encourage this line of thought, offering relatively free usage of Quirks for the purpose of committing violence legally. It reinforces the popular belief that one must ignore a part of themselves, lest one lapse into irredeemable savagery as a direct result of freely using one’s Quirk.”

“And so the better choice is to rip that individuality away from them by force, like you do?” Izuku snapped.

All for One paused, then dropped back into his seat and took another sip of tea before answering. “I’ve done far worse than that, and whether or not my own sins outweigh those of the government is not the issue here,” he said bluntly. “There’s also the fact that proper government appointments haven’t been held for almost two centuries, ostensibly to avoid leaks from constantly changing personnel. How do you think One for All’s purpose and my own existence were known to the government without having leaked for the past 200 years? Elections have been held, yes, but when was the last time you saw a change in the composition of the cabinet or the Prime Minister based on the leading parliamentary factions? Even those are easily manipulated by sponsorship from the right heroes, though they hardly need to when elections have about as much weight as the single brain cell held by the people they supposedly appoint. I would know.” All for One nodded.

“But do you have proof?” Izuku shot back. “Conspiracy theories are all well and good, but you could spin just about any story you wanted to.” His head, however, was whirling. All for One was almost certainly lying, but there was probably a grain of truth in there somewhere. Izuku vaguely remembered public trials being a guaranteed right by constitutional law, and those certainly weren’t held for villains like All for One. “How would they even get away with that?”

All for One’s shark-like grin continued to be the opposite of comforting. “Oh, there’s plenty of proof, Izuku. Literal vaults of it. But let us not ruin a pleasant tea with boring things like paperwork. Instead, let me answer your second question. The Japanese government took their inspiration from historical examples of installing totalitarian regimes without public fuss, and simply took advantage of the emergency powers they had claimed when Quirks first appeared and the public riots grew beyond what the police could handle.”

“With people like you running around, I’m not surprised they decided to declare a state of emergency,” Izuku said, squinting at his teacup. He couldn’t remember drinking from it - too dazed by the information to pay attention - but it was already half-empty. “They didn’t call it off?”

“They didn’t call it off,” All for One confirmed. “Legally, Japan has been in a state of emergency for the past two centuries. I will confess that my existence may have validated their belief that it was required, but even my periods of complete inactivity have failed to convince them to return to normal operations. This state of affairs has continued indefinitely, and was likely to continue as such barring outside interference.”

“Which is where you come in,” Izuku said dryly. “Not that this is anything but a state of emergency, but I suppose if I had no options to consider but rampant violence, then this is certainly one way of 'interfering'. It’s hard to believe you care that much about the government when you can effectively ignore most attempts at suppressing your activities through brute force, unless someone with One for All gets involved as All Might demonstrated. Even in that case, the way you dealt with me today is proof enough that it’s more a problem of how you choose to deal with them than ability. Eraserhead’s quirk -” the quirk of his former teacher whose fate he was really trying to avoid thinking about - “is hardly the only one that works against One for All, and you could just as easily choose a quirk loadout for assassination as you could for trading blows. It’s either an error or an intentional choice on your part.”

“You’d be surprised,” All for One said. “But this brings us back to our original point: If I were arrested immediately, and assuming I’m correct in my statements, would the sanctity of the Constitution be likely to hold the government together without strong leadership?”

“Assuming you’re not full of it… probably not,” Izuku admitted. “Those who knew about the previous corruption would try to leverage that corruption back into place to give themselves more power. Those who didn’t would find themselves in unfamiliar territory because what they expect the government to be wasn’t there in the first place. There’s nothing to stop anyone from declaring emergency powers immediately, which would be the logical decision considering the current state of emergency, but it would only make things worse because rebuilding the government needs agreed-upon standards to serve as a foundation, not a license to just… ignore what they like.”

“Amazing. Where did All Might even find you?” All for One said. “You certainly have more political acumen than most of your ilk. Of course, actual politics would be difficult with that rampant honesty of yours, a poor match for the modern cutthroats, but few heroes seem to understand the consequences of the government’s behavior.”

“We do have to deal with politics as heroes.” Izuku could deflect questions too.

“Few do it well; a passion for the workings of the government is hardly an encouraged trait. But I digress. You weren’t exactly wrong in your assessment that, in the best-case scenario, I’d be locked away in prison for the rest of my life, which would now have a time limit thanks to suppressing my longevity Quirks. But would that be legal?”

“... Not according to the Constitution,” Izuku bit out, “though exceptions can probably be made for a mass-murdering dictator. A fair trial would definitely convict you and your cronies.”

“But would we receive one under this hypothetical government that would be reconstructed? We wouldn’t have before.”

“Probably not.” Izuku didn’t want to admit it, but he couldn’t really see that part of the Constitution being upheld in this case. Even if the government did miraculously reorganize itself with a minimum of fuss - unlikely in any realistic scenario - if fair and public trials hadn’t been a factor before, they were unlikely to become one now.

“Which, of course, would be an entirely wrong foot to start out on. Reinstating the Constitution in its entirety at a later date would then give me, and those arrested alongside me, the right to sue for our release according to ex post facto law using our wrongful detention as a base. The choice would then be between upholding the Constitution, or allowing dangerous criminal elements to run free. With all this in mind, then,” All for One folded his hands and leaned forward almost eagerly, “what do you actually want to happen?”

 

 

They talked.

Halfway through the afternoon, the seemingly bottomless teapot was replaced by stacks of paperwork in which All for One traced the path and proof of the government’s illegalities and corruption. Izuku wanted to believe that this was some trick of All for One’s, but Izuku’s own laptop and phone were obligingly summoned from his home (Izuku was nearly distracted from the discussion with curiosity about the quirk used), and cross-referencing the internet offered a lot of points of reference to validate unconstitutional laws, mishandled cases, and rigged election results.

Izuku wasn’t sure where All for One was trying to lead the conversation, but he was certainly leading it somewhere. They talked about government, about the handling of Quirk regulations, about the hero system (which All for One claimed needlessly encouraged violence and us-versus-them mentality, a claim Izuku couldn’t entirely refute), about the lack of Quirks and support technologies being available to the public for non-violent purposes. Izuku constantly found himself wondering how and why he kept finding points of agreement with a supervillain. If these were All for One’s true beliefs, then why was he so… bad at this? The man was well aware that ruling through fear as his minions ran amok was a terrible way to go about things. He certainly hadn’t taken many steps to fix the system in his short time as dictator. Why was he so knowledgeable about the theory and dismal in practice?

At one point, All for One himself proposed a scenario that hadn’t occurred to Izuku - that if Izuku had successfully assassinated All for One, Izuku himself would have been the best candidate to take charge of the government while things were sorted out (following the tradition of bloody coups), which would be a potentially more stable solution than a quiet arrest and government reorganization. Izuku scoffed at this idea. He had no idea how to take and hold a government, it would be a recipe for disaster.

They did manage to agree on several things, most of which surprised Izuku. First, that the Constitution should be the basis for reestablishing a workable government, if only because it could be trusted by the populace, with an amendment made to include Quirks as part of the anti-discrimination articles. Second, that this should be done by a third party, not affiliated with the villains or the previous authorities. Third, that All for One should use his own authority to instate this party, giving them some form of legitimacy while also finding a way to ensure that the person chosen could in no way be suspected of working with All for One.

Izuku suggested All Might. All for One shrugged at the suggestion, but didn’t disagree.

Fourthly, All for One should step down as soon as possible.

“You… you’re willing to agree to step down? Just like that?” Izuku said weakly.

“Of course. As much as I enjoy my reign of terror as Supreme Overlord of Japan, it leaves me no time for the little joys in life. Now that I’ve wrecked irreparable damage upon my foes and brought despair upon all who oppose me, I think retirement would suit me. It’s time to lose the mask. Perhaps I should take up a hobby,” All for One mused. “I’ve heard crocheting is relaxing, what do you think?”

“I think you’re messing with me,” Izuku said.

“No, no, I’m entirely serious,” All for One said. “Provided you refrain from attacking me for a little longer, I’ve already arranged a press conference for five o’clock this evening to announce my resignation. I cordially invite you to attend and see for yourself.”

Izuku really didn’t believe it - when had All for One even arranged that? - but after an afternoon of tea with a tyrant and the strange lack of violence in the process, he might as well see where this charade led.

 

 

Izuku had always hated media events despite the necessity of dealing with them as a hero, and the sea of uneasy press that stood before a platform in front of the Tokyo Imperial Palace was no exception. Especially with Izuku standing in discomfort on the stage as the Supreme Overlord addressed the populace. He let his mind wander over the very strange events of a very strange day as All for One offered some polite words to open his speech.

His focus was abruptly dragged back shortly into it.

“I do not wish to delay this announcement any further. Today, I was visited by a recent graduate from your own UA High, mentored by All Might himself. I’m sure many of you recognize Izuku Midoriya.” All for One’s full-face mask was firmly in place, but after an afternoon with the man Izuku could hear the smirk in the man’s voice. “While his attempts at valiant battle proved sadly useless, we had a fantastic discussion afterward in which he persuaded me to see the error of my ways. Japan can not continue as it has, and my leadership will be insufficient to restore her glory. Therefore, I hereby resign my title, position, and role as Supreme Overlord of Japan, and transfer the title, as well as all rights and responsibilities, to Izuku Midoriya, your new Supreme Overlord. Obey him as you would me.”

What? What?

“As of today, I will no longer involve myself with the public, or the government, or with villainy itself. Though let it be known, if anything happens to Supreme Overlord Izuku Midoriya, or if anyone tries to force him from this decreed position, I will be watching, and I will consider this declaration to no longer be binding.” The dripping malice was almost visible in the air around him. Then All for One’s posture shifted and the malice disappeared. “With that being said, I believe All Might’s successor should be an excellent choice for the position, wouldn’t you agree?”

All for One stepped away from the microphone and abruptly vanished. Izuku bonelessly slid to the ground as cameras flashed and pandemonium began, voices shouting questions from every direction.

“What the hell?” gasped Izuku Midoriya, new Supreme Overlord of Japan, to be recorded by a hundred microphones and broadcast live across the nation.

The nonsensical thought occurred to him that All for One had apparently handed Izuku the country and disappeared, and Izuku had never even learned the man’s real name.

Oh, All Might, Mom, what have I gotten myself into?

Chapter 2: Great Supporters

“Hello, Toshinori Yagi speaking.”
“I am so glad you picked up.”
“Young Midoriya! I saw the news! It’s wonderful that you’re safe, but what on earth happened?”
“I don’t know. I think he noticed me coming. Dodged, shut off One for All with Aizawa-sensei’s quirk, grabbed me before I could move. Then he invited me to tea and parlay.”
“He what?”
“I’m as confused as you are.”
“... And then what happened?”
“We talked about the government for several hours. He agreed to step down. I guess he arranged it while I was busy looking over the paperwork he shoved at me. Then when I called his bluff, he invited me to his press conference and… actually did it?”
“What the hell?”
“Exactly.”

 

 

Izuku didn’t quite remember how he’d escaped from the horde of press. It was a blur until he found himself on a rooftop about two miles away, where he sat down and tried to process everything.

He went over the events in his memory following the Announcement, attempting to put them in order. He’d robotically answered a few questions screamed in his face by the excited media, operating on some ingrained instinct from UA’s rigorous interview training. He’d definitely activated One for All at some point and used a quirk-powered leap to escape the human barricade that surrounded the platform. From there it was the usual feeling of the world rushing by as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, bouncing off of walls and letting the acceleration fill his mind to block out everything else.

Like the fact that… he was now the new dictator in charge of Japan?

No, no, that was definitely a trick. It had to be. If it wasn’t, then… his mind threatened to slip back into the blankness that had filled it ever since All for One had disappeared into thin air. He dragged his mind back from the brink and forced himself to think. If it wasn’t a trick - and there was no way it was the truth, no way in hell - but if it wasn’t a trick, Izuku had to… do something. Do what?

He checked his phone. He’d left his laptop in the Tokyo Imperial Palace. He wondered if he’d get it back.

You have 43 missed calls. You have 136 new messages. You have 10 new emails.

Huh. That had to be a record.

He wasn’t ready to deal with his friends, or mother, or Yagi. He checked his personal email account as he idly watched the message count climb.

Three spam emails. Five from former pro heroes who hadn’t been heard from since All for One had chased everyone into hiding. He wondered why they’d decided to contact him now (don’t think, don’t think). One from Bakugou, titled ‘I know you’ll look here first asshole’. One from an unknown email address.

He tapped the unknown email.

 

From: Unknown
To: Izuku Midoriya
Subject: Many Apologies

Dear Supreme Overlord Izuku,

I apologize for springing this on you so abruptly. However, I believe you made it sufficiently clear that you would not accept should I have made the offer directly. As you are the only person I feel is qualified for the task of setting things right, I have left Japan and my position to you.

As I am sure it will be overwhelming to so abruptly hold the responsibility for an entire nation, I have left some helpers at your disposal. You are free to do as you please with them - up to and including arresting them - but I would recommend that you refrain from doing so, at least for now. Aside from the points we’ve discussed, they know where everything is and can be trusted with small jobs such as fetching paperwork or administrating the lesser state departments. Shigaraki has taken a particular interest in agriculture. I think it would suit him, at least until you find a replacement to your liking.

You will find them in the National Diet Building, which you may visit at your leisure; they will keep the lights on until you are prepared to assume your new responsibilities. Do try to hurry, though. I wouldn’t leave them in charge of anything important for longer than strictly necessary.

While it is understandable if you decline to take advice from yours truly, I have left a series of notes on the practical aspects of running a government on your laptop, which I have taken the liberty of sending back to your home. You are fully capable of taking what you wish and putting your own unique spin on it. I would not have put the country in your hands if I didn’t have faith in your ability to rise to the challenge.

Congratulations, and my best wishes for your complete success in the days to come.

Yours,
All for One

 

Izuku was going to kill him. Izuku was going to find him and kill him. But first he had a few other things to deal with, like the fact that the villains were in charge of the government until Izuku himself relieved them of the responsibility.

After dropping a quick “I’m alive” in the Class 1-A group text (228 new messages now, he’d read them later) he called Yagi. Yagi didn’t understand the situation any better than himself. Describing the email shed no new light on anything whatsoever. It was nice to have a partner in his confusion, if nothing else.

Izuku told Yagi that he was going to go deal with whoever All for One had left behind immediately. Yagi insisted on being there when Izuku confronted them. Izuku thought this was a terrible idea. Yagi pointed out that he’d been scared enough when Izuku went to confront All for One, dropped communications for several hours, then popped back up on the news standing behind All for One himself. Yagi was unwilling to spend any more time wondering if Izuku was alive. He’d prefer that Izuku bring more backup, but if Izuku was going tonight, he was coming along.

That was fair, Izuku decided. Or he was still too far into a state of shock to argue.

Izuku swung by his home to pick up his laptop and a nervous Yagi (who joined Inko in a tearful group-hug ambush the moment Izuku walked through the door), and headed for the National Diet Building. Yagi wore a hat with a brim that shaded his face in an attempt to hide his features from casual observers. Izuku changed back into his hero suit, put his green hoodie on over it, and decided that was sufficient as a disguise. As an afterthought, he shoved several quirk suppressants and tranquilizers into his pockets.

“You should check your texts, my boy,” Yagi said after a few minutes of inconspicuously skulking through alleyways. Even if Izuku was now (supposedly) Supreme Overlord of Japan, it wouldn’t do to attract attention, and while Izuku could certainly carry his mentor over the rooftops, walking would give him time to think anyway. As soon as his buzzing head and urge to murder All for One calmed down.

“I don’t know what to tell them,” Izuku said. “I’m not even sure what happened myself. I did tell them I’m alive.”

“That’s good,” Yagi said. “Young Bakugou has been texting me nonstop since the announcement, except for the brief periods in which I believe he was texting you. He wants to set up a rendezvous for tomorrow.”

“Ah.” That was something Izuku could deal with. He checked the email from Bakugou, studiously ignoring a certain other email, and noticed that amidst various expletives and insults indicative of Bakugou’s own shock, there was indeed a demand to gather the class the following afternoon at 3 pm for explanations. If Izuku was reading the invective right, there was also someone he needed to meet.

Izuku would have to deal with everyone eventually. Tomorrow was fine. Tomorrow, not today, was more than fine. He sent a quick response agreeing to that before slipping his phone back into his pocket.

They walked in silence for a few more blocks. They should probably hurry. Izuku didn’t want to.

“I’m going to kill him when I find him.”

“I don’t blame you.”

A few more blocks of silence.

“Do you think this is some sort of trap?”

“I don’t know. To my knowledge, he’s only ever tried to kill his problems directly. This isn’t something he does.”

“So why now?”

“I don’t know, Young Midoriya. I don’t know.”

They should probably take a train if Izuku wasn’t going to use One for All-enhanced parkour to reach their destination. They plodded past the train station. Neither of them looked at it.

“If this isn’t a trick… want to be Secretary of State?”

“If this isn’t a trick, I will assist you in any way I can.”

That was good. Izuku wondered who else he could get to help him. He had people he trusted to help him, but few of those had the sort of experience it would take to run the government. Of course, Izuku himself didn’t have that sort of experience either. If his afternoon of research was right, the government wasn’t being run properly in the first place. Maybe no one was truly qualified.

This time Yagi was the one to break the silence.

“What did you two even talk about for that long?”

“Lots of things. Apparently the government’s been illegal for 200 years and All for One wanted to shove the proof at me.”

“What?” Izuku passed a handkerchief for Yagi to wipe the sprayed blood from his chin out of reflex.

“It was pretty convincing evidence.”

“Illegal?”

“I can show you the paperwork later if I’m really… whatever this is. Not Supreme Overlord. That’s a stupid title and I’m not a villain.”

“Indeed.”

“...”

“What are you planning to do, Young Midoriya?”

“I’d love to make this someone else’s problem, but I don’t think All for One would allow that. Things can’t go back to the way they were. So I suppose… I’ll be spending a lot of time figuring out how the government works and beating the system into something workable and constitutional. After that’s done I’ll hold elections and then pretend none of this ever happened.”

“Not a bad plan.”

“Executing it is going to be the hard part.”

“True. I’m sure you’ll rise to the challenge.”

The familiar words gave Izuku shivers. How long had they been walking? He could see another train station down the street.

“Maybe we should take the train, Young Midoriya?”

“I suppose.”

They were lucky. The train was mostly empty, and the few people aboard ignored them. They rode in silence. They disembarked at a train station a few blocks away from the National Diet Building.

“If they attack us on sight, I’m grabbing you, taking out Kurogiri if he’s there, and booking it.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

The white building and its sprawling grounds loomed impressively.

This was such a bad idea.

No one stopped them at the gate. No one stopped them at the steps that led up to the entrance, or at the entrance itself. Kurogiri, however, was waiting when they entered. He bowed. Izuku wanted to punch him, but bowing wasn’t an attack on anything but Izuku’s sanity, so he let it pass.

“Supreme Overlord Midoriya,” Kurogiri said calmly, “would you permit me to escort you to a meeting room to discuss how things will proceed from here?”

“Did you all know All for One was planning this?”

Yellow-smoke eyes narrowed. “He informed us of his plans to turn the country over to someone he deemed fit for the role. He strongly implied that the person he chose would be someone we were not on good terms with. That is the extent of our awareness.”

“Fine.” Izuku wasn’t happy, but he didn’t have any better ideas. “Lead on, I guess.”

Kurogiri made no mention of the skeletal shadow at Izuku’s back. Izuku chose not to raise that point either.

“I would offer to warp you to the room,” Kurogiri said in an apologetic tone as he led them out of the massive lobby and through a spacious hallway, “but I assume you would prefer not to entrust yourself to my Warp Gate.”

“This is fine, thanks.”

Their footsteps echoed in the otherwise-silent hallway, only muffled when they walked over thick carpets. The lighting was dim enough for Izuku to wonder whether the shadows hid the rumored bloodstains, or whether he was simply imagining things due to the atmosphere. It was some small comfort to find something more in-line with what he expected from criminal masterminds.

They heard the meeting room before they found it. Clearly not everyone’s opinion was entirely in line with their ex-Overlord’s. At least someone agreed that this was a terrible idea.

“- prove himself worthy.”

“Shut up, Machia. If you pull the same thing on him that you did on me, the building won’t be standing, and that would be a pain.” Shigaraki, no surprise there.

“If he fails to prove himself, I will leave him be. I promised this to my Master. But he must show himself worthy if I am to follow him.” That was definitely Gigantomachia. He had a rather distinctive voice. All for One reportedly used him as a bodyguard, not that evil incarnate ever seemed to need one. Izuku already felt a headache forming.

“Both of you shut up, he’ll be here any minute and we want him to like us. If that's even possible.” Was that Dabi?

Izuku turned to Yagi and held out his laptop bag. “Would you mind waiting outside and keeping this safe for me? It sounds like I may need to do some dispute resolution first.”

“Certainly, Young Midoriya.” Yagi looked a bit pale as he took the bag.

Izuku listened to Gigantomachia and Shigaraki’s now-overlapping voices, marched past a fidgeting Kurogiri, and threw open the door. That had the blessed effect of silencing the room.

Izuku looked across faces of villains who had terrorized the nation, threatened so many people he loved, that All for One had left as his “helpers”. It appeared most of All for One’s hangers-on had already fled, leaving behind a small honor guard. Shigaraki, Kurogiri, Gigantomachia, and Dabi, from the looks of it. Izuku couldn’t tell if he was more surprised that more hadn’t stayed, or that these had stayed at all. He took a deep breath and let it out, along with the desire to activate One for All and obliterate this room from existence.

All for One spoke the language of threats. Maybe it would be an effective form of communication with his minions.

“I don’t have to prove anything to you,” Izuku stated in a deliberate, icy tone. “I woke up this morning with the full intention of fighting All for One. That happened, I failed, and instead of killing me he dumped Japan in my lap and told me to fix it. I plan to do that, but I will not waste my time proving myself to everyone who asks. It will take too much time that could be spent actually fixing things.” He stepped further into the room, every eye following him. “I’ve had a very long day, and I would love nothing more than to arrest, or obliterate, every single one of you. So you have three options: try to kill me now, which would at least give me a punching bag for a frankly absurd amount of stress; tell me exactly why you’re of more use to me walking free than pumped full of quirk suppressants and thrown in the nearest secure facility; or surrender peacefully and we'll jump straight to the part where I arrest you. I suppose you could try running, but you’ve had plenty of opportunity to do that already so it would be idiotic to wait till now, and chasing you would also be great stress relief.”

Not that they needed to know that an arrest would be problematic due to the whole Constitution issue. Or… would it? Dictators were unconstitutional too, and as far as Izuku knew he’d just been installed as a dictator. A temporary one, of course - there was no way in hell that this would be permanent - but still. He’d figure that out later. For now he’d let them have a chance to convince Izuku that they were worth keeping around; he couldn’t exactly let them loose on the innocent populace. If they were here, working for him, he could keep an eye on them.

Gigantomachia was the first to move, sinking into a chair that had to be specially-made to fit someone of his size. “For now, I will follow, Supreme Overlord. I will see you prove yourself through your actions.”

“That easily?” Shigaraki hissed.

“He speaks with the voice of my Master.”

“I don’t hear it.” Shigaraki sounded petulant.

Izuku cleared his throat and forced that thought to the back of his mind for later. The back of his mind was getting overpopulated. “First order of business, don’t call me that.”

“But you are the Supreme Overlord, as my Master, All for One, decreed.”

“It’s a stupid title. Call me Midoriya.”

“All for One would not have used a stupid title, and it would be rude to treat you with less than your due respect. You are the Supreme Overlord.”

Izuku counted to ten in his head, and decided this argument wasn’t worth it. He’d argue the point later, likely after he figured out what he actually wanted to be called. “Whatever. Is this everyone?”

“It is.” Kurogiri was the one to respond this time. “The others believed you would try to arrest or kill us immediately, and left.”

“You didn’t agree?”

“We were willing to stay despite that threat. We owe everything to All for One, and this was his wish.”

“Alright then, I suppose that will make this quicker. I want your names - real names, not villain names - and why you think I need your help more than I need you locked up. Oh, and before I do that, I have someone to invite in. If you work for me, you will be working for him. Anyone with complaints about that can stuff it, and anyone with violent complaints about that can be launched into the stratosphere. Your choice.”

 

 

Shigaraki was aware of his previous identity as Tenko Shimura. Kurogiri said that he’d once been Oboro Shirakumo, but he didn’t have memories from when he went by that name (Izuku recalled All for One’s threats from earlier that day and shivered at the implications of why Kurogiri was missing those memories). Gigantomachia claimed he didn’t remember having any other name, but asked to be called Machia, which Izuku chose to consider when Gigantomachia dropped his insistence on calling Izuku ‘Supreme Overlord’. Izuku only narrowly avoided gaping when Dabi introduced himself as Touya Todoroki. From the man’s signature burns and the very public death of Endeavor a few months prior, Izuku had a sinking suspicion about how Dabi’s loyalty had been purchased.

Izuku was surprised that they took Yagi’s presence so well. Shigaraki and Gigantomachia glared a bit, but that was to be expected. He felt the frustration recede ever so slightly with his mentor’s warm presence at his side. Yagi, too, asked the occasional clarifying question, which helped draw a rather strange picture of the last few years.

It seemed that All for One had spent those years training the lieutenants of the Paranormal Liberation Front - especially those most loyal to him - how to run governments. A good part of their absence from villainous activities was because many of them were busy studying, mostly online but with some choosing to attend classes at the universities themselves. What time wasn’t spent studying was spent gaining hands-on experience as CEOs of companies or taking government jobs under pseudonyms, with All for One providing quirk-based disguises for those with particularly distinctive appearances. Yagi coughed blood several times learning that the League of Villains and associates had escaped his notice by trying legitimate careers on for size.

Everyone present had taken online courses for the past few years in political science and other fields of preference. After All for One’s email, it was with dull surprise that Izuku learned Shigaraki had obtained a bachelor’s degree in agricultural sciences, of all things. He claimed to have been inspired by a game, Starview something or other? Izuku could only hope he learned something actually useful beyond the game.

Kurogiri’s Ph.D in Communication Theory was impressive in its own right; he’d already been studying in his free time raising Shigaraki. Dabi had chosen the ironic field of Criminal Justice and Rehabilitation. Gigantomachia had a focus in Telecommunications. The latter two were nearly finished with their bachelor’s programs, they claimed; they’d only been studying since All for One broke out of prison, less than three years. Double majors were difficult.

While interesting, degrees were hardly enough to give Izuku reason to let them run around bothering people. More importantly, as All for One said, they knew where everything was.

“I have spent the past few months finding every vault and secure facility the previous government hid around the country, and can warp you to any of them for further investigation. I believe you will consider the contents of a few of them to be of interest,” Kurogiri offered. “I also ensure that district and city governments receive some form of oversight and support, as I can visit at any time.”

“I’m in charge of the filing system. No way you’ll be getting through that mess without me.” Dabi grinned. It was probably supposed to be a friendly smile. Izuku felt nauseated.

“Every big operation needs a gold farm,” Shigaraki said. “I’m in charge of making sure the NPC gold farm keeps running.”

“Stop scratching. Are you talking about taxes?”

Shigaraki stopped scratching. “Yeah, and other Department of Commerce stuff. What else would I be talking about?”

Izuku supposed that was important. Whose idea was it to put Shigaraki in charge of that? Oh right, All for One. That did explain a lot. He massaged his temples. “And what about you, Gigantomachia?”

“Communications and defense.”

“I thought Kurogiri was in charge of communications?” Yagi calmly interjected.

Dabi jumped. Maybe he’d forgotten Yagi was there.

“I screened communications for All for One. Coordinated intel. Stopped heroes when they tried to disrupt things. For you, it will be villains that need to be stopped. I’m the best bodyguard.”

“He really is,” Shigaraki added.

Gigantomachia was an odd choice for an aide, until Izuku thought about it. Gigantomachia, from what Izuku could see, only spoke when he thought it was important, and kept things blunt and short when he did. Additionally, Izuku probably needed to know the composition of whatever intelligence network Gigantomachia ran, if nothing else. But the other point… “I can take care of myself.”

“You need to sleep sometime,” Gigantomachia argued.

“I’ll think about it,” Izuku said. He stood. “Well, I suppose those are reasons enough to let you… keep doing your jobs for the moment. I’ll have more questions later, and I’ll review your efforts once I find other people for government positions, hopefully in a few days. In the meantime, one finger out of line and you’ll find yourself with a first-class ticket to the nearest prison or cemetery.” Izuku stared hard at Shigaraki, who started scratching again. “That includes killing anyone whatsoever. Villain, hero, random person who attacked you, I don’t care. If you absolutely must, knock them out until I can talk to them myself. If I hear about a single murder from any of you - and I have my ways - you’re out, even if that means I have to run this entire government by myself. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Supreme Overlord.”

“Of course, Supreme Overlord.”

“You got it, Supreme Overlord.”

“Yeah, yeah, Your Mightiness.” Izuku nearly choked at Shigaraki’s term of address.

“Don’t call me that either,” Izuku said tiredly. He glanced at Yagi, who looked almost as exhausted as Izuku felt. “Now, as much as I would love to go home and sleep for about 24 hours straight -” or lie down and not get up until this nightmare had safely ended without Izuku’s involvement - “I have some reading to do. I need a cleared office and some peace and quiet. I’m sorry, Yagi-san, I don’t think I’ll be able to escort you home.”

“I’m staying with you,” Yagi said firmly. “I think you were going to show me some paperwork?”

“Fine,” Izuku said. “Kurogiri, do you know where the paperwork is that All for One showed me today?”

“Indeed.”

“Bring that to the office too. Well then?”

Dabi escorted Izuku and Yagi to the requested office while Kurogiri fetched documents. The chosen room was complete with two brightly polished and utterly empty wooden desks, two of the most comfortable office chairs Izuku had ever encountered, and stacks of paperwork. Izuku, after a few pointers, left Yagi to the paperwork while he investigated his apparently tampered-with laptop. He chose to ignore the small radio devices Kurogiri brought for himself and Yagi to communicate with the resident villains, as well as the fact that Izuku could hear Gigantomachia settle outside the room. He hoped it was for bodyguard duty and not to keep them trapped.

All for One had obligingly left a shortcut to the reading material on Izuku’s desktop. When opened, Izuku was nearly left speechless with the sheer amount of information. How did this even fit on a laptop? His hard drive still had plenty of space left, he found when he checked it.

He settled further into his chair, feeling the odd urge to crack his knuckles. It was time to read.

 

 

Izuku woke to his shoulder being gently shaken and Yagi leaning over him. “Young Midoriya, I’m sorry to wake you, but it’s nearly two o’clock. I believe you had a meeting at three?”

Izuku bolted upright from where his cheek had pressed against the keyboard of his laptop. He grimaced; he probably had a keyboard imprint on his face now. How long had he been sleeping? He last remembered checking the time at 11 am when Kurogiri had set a plate of food at his elbow… “I do. Thanks, Yagi-san.”

“Of course, Young Midoriya.” He patted Izuku’s shoulder. “I’ve let your mother know that you are safe and here.”

Izuku nodded. That was important, and he’d entirely forgotten in the chaos of everything. Sorry, Mom.

He’d been pointed to the nearest bathroom the previous night, and upon entering it now he found it stocked with unopened toiletries. All of them were the same brands Izuku used at home. Creepy. He freshened up, stared mournfully at the fading marks on his face, regretted his lack of coffee, and dashed out to where Yagi was waiting alongside Kurogiri, who had a thermos. Kurogiri held the thermos out to him. That was creepy too. Izuku eyed it for a moment, but he hadn’t been poisoned yet from eating or drinking things served by villains, so it was probably fine. He took a large gulp. It tasted like the same type of coffee he drank at home. Izuku would stop thinking about that now.

“Thanks,” Izuku said, because he could be polite even to villains. “I’ll be back. Don’t let anyone burn the place down.”

“Of course, Supreme Overlord.”

Izuku needed more coffee.

“I imagine that you would not wish for me to know the location of your associates,” Kurogiri added, “but I would like to offer my services for transport to a location of your choosing. The nearest station, at least.”

Izuku thought. Why not, they’d had plenty of opportunities to kill or kidnap him already. “Sure, drop me at the corner of A and B Avenue.” It was within walking distance of the rendezvous point, and had a quiet little coffee shop where Izuku planned to inhale about a gallon of caffeine before he had to meet his friends.

One warp later, and Izuku was guzzling coffee and contemplating his existence while the barista cast furtive glances in his direction. This was alright. He could do this. It wasn’t so bad being temporary dictator of Japan, right? Just a few weeks of sorting things out, and he’d be able to put all this behind him. It was a lot of work, sure, but he'd done some pretty incredible things already and could do this too. Plus Ultra and all that.

“Japan is going to go down in flames and it will be my fault,” he said in a monotone.

“You’ve been doing excellently so far, my boy.”

Izuku giggled hysterically, and gulped the rest of his coffee. Which of course meant that he needed another cup of it. He went to the counter and said as much to the barista, who put in the order.

“Sorry for asking, but are you… um… Supreme Overlord Midoriya?”

“No.” He refused to be Supreme Overlord anything. He was barely fine with ‘temporary dictator’.

“I’m sorry for the mistake, sir, you kind of look like him. Your coffee will be up shortly.”

The next cup didn’t make his life any clearer, but Izuku felt marginally more prepared to deal with it. Which was good, since they had 10 minutes until the meeting. “I suppose we should go now.”

 

 

Walking into the warehouse Class 1-A had chosen as their meeting place was… chaotic.

“Hey man! Holy shit, I still can’t believe that was you on the news last night. Whatever you said to All for One must have been manly as hell.”

“Deku! Are you okay? You should’ve asked for backup! We’re your friends, remember? I could’ve floated him off into space if you’d brought me along!”

“Midoriya, that was incredibly dangerous and I must protest the disregard you showed for people who care about you! You should have informed us of your plans to confront All for One so that we could form a proper team for the task. Failing that, you should have told us about your new appointment -”

“Mon ami, you were a star upon the stage of the country. Next time, you will not falter, for I shall teach you the art of shining so brightly that no amount of surprise can darken your splendor~”

“Midoriya. You were reckless, but you did well.” At least Todoroki supported him.

“DEEEEKUUUUU!” Several explosions signaled the end of anyone else’s ability to talk for several minutes.

At least Bakugou’s verbal and physical explosion calmed everyone else down. The building was singed afterward, but the rest of Izuku’s former classmates had lapsed into silence.

“I swear, Kacchan, I don’t know what All for One was thinking. And I couldn’t have taken any of you along, I know he can’t take my quirk but I’m sure he can take all of yours.”

“You think a fucking quirk is -”

“Yes, that’s important! I didn’t know he had Aizawa-sensei’s quirk, but that doesn’t change anything.”

“Oh, speaking of that. Get over here, Dry Eyes.”

“That’s Aizawa-sensei to you, kid.”

That voice… it couldn’t be…

“Sensei?” Izuku said, in a very small voice.

Aizawa stepped from behind Satou’s large form, familiar dead-eyed grin in place. He looked more rested than Izuku had ever seen him. “It’s always you getting into these things, isn’t it, Problem Child. And good to see you too, Yagi.”

Something about that was the last straw from the previous day and a half. Izuku stared, stared some more, and started bawling. Dimly, he heard Yagi’s exuberance over Aizawa’s reappearance, and Bakugou yelling for Todoroki to “get the hell over there until he stops leaking”. He felt multiple hands and arms hugging him, holding him up, guiding him to what was probably one of the old crates left lying around the warehouse and pushing gently until he sat.

Everything was overwhelming and terrible, but it would be okay. He had his friends. He had Yagi. Aizawa was here, and alive.

They’d figure this out, somehow.

It’s going to be alright.

Notes:

Of course I wasn't going to kill Aizawa, if I had to pick a hero to put in the government he'd be at the top of the list. Also I love him. Robin, you're still the hero killer. :)

I decided to try this tumblr business that all the cool kids are doing these days. You can find me at nobodywritesthings.tumblr.com. Feel free to ask me questions or read my odd rantings. Or don't, you do you.

Thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos and bookmarks, you folks make me smile.

Chapter 3: Great Chaos

“Congratulations, you’re the first hire, Secretary of State Toshinori Yagi.”
“Thank you, my boy, I shall do my best to serve in the position as well as I am able.”
“Don’t thank me, Yagi-san. There’s no one I trust more than you, which is why I’m very sorry to do this to you.”
“Do what to me?”
“Your first task as Secretary of State will be to hold a press conference to let the public know what’s going on. And that we’re taking applications for government workers.”
“Shit.”

 

 

Izuku wasn’t sure how long it took him to stop crying. He only barely stopped himself from rushing to hug Aizawa, which would’ve embarrassed both himself and his former teacher. He felt a bit more like himself afterward, and they all got down to business.

Everyone wanted to help, but few of them were quite sure what they could do, especially after Izuku gave a short summary of the previous day and the problems he’d discovered. Momo said that her parents would almost definitely want to help with going through commerce legislation. Todoroki was uncharacteristically enthusiastic about the prospect of reforming hero laws, but Izuku supposed he had reason enough for an interest in hero reform. Iida said his brother would be interested in the welfare system.

Izuku trusted them more than he would anyone else, and he would love nothing more than to have their help, but… it didn’t seem quite right. They didn’t know about running a government. He was supposed to be rebuilding a democracy, not… running it with blatant nepotism, handing out positions to his friends just because he liked them. He needed people who were qualified. There were probably lots of people out there more qualified than them for… for government reform. There were definitely lots of people more qualified than Izuku himself. Why? Why was this his problem?

Why did he feel like he couldn’t let it be anyone else’s problem?

It wasn’t just about the nebulous fear of All for One coming back if Izuku dumped the responsibility he’d been handed on the next unsuspecting victim. He didn’t want to acknowledge the small part of himself that wanted to be the one in charge of fixing things. It was the same part of himself that hadn’t trusted the heroes to rescue Bakugou, that hadn’t been surprised when he found Iida in an alleyway with the Hero Killer and no one else there to stop the consequences. The same part of himself that had decided to confront All for One on his own, because he decided it was his responsibility and there was no one else he could trust with the job.

That was a dangerous part of himself; he recognized that it might make it difficult to step down when the time came. That he might want to hold on to the position of dictator, because he’d never trusted any authority figure or institution with individual lives, much less with millions.

He came out of his thoughts to an awkward silence that had settled across the group. Aizawa hovered near the back of the group, as he had for most of the conversation. Yagi had kept a careful hand on Izuku’s shoulder since he’d started crying and had yet to remove it.

He didn’t have to start by trusting strangers or an entire institution. Villains he left in charge of the government while he was out aside, he could start with trusting those close to him.

“What do all of you think I should do?”

Izuku’s friends appeared to collectively blink.

“Isn’t it obvious, man? You’re gonna fix the government and we’re gonna help!”

“It’s really not that simple, Kaminari.”

“The hell it isn’t,” Bakugou snarled. “You’ll always be a fucking useless Deku but even you can run things better than the assholes in charge before.”

“Young Bakugou has a point, Young Midoriya. No one is expecting you to be perfect, and you have all of us as support.”

“You’ll need a lot of help. You’ll be the death of me yet, Problem Child.”

“Are you volunteering, Aizawa-sensei?” Izuku remarked with a wobbly grin.

“Might as well, if you’ll take a quirkless old has-been. Investigation’s never been my favorite thing, but you’ll need someone who can do it, and as I said. All the help you can get.” Aizawa returned a fierce grin. “I’ll see if I can’t drag a few familiar faces out of the shadows, since I’m assuming we won’t have to hide for much longer.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Izuku said. “By the way, Sensei, how did you survive? And where have you been until now?”

“For the first question: All for One took my quirk and ignored me afterward. Then one of the vigilantes who showed up grabbed me and booked it. For the second: a cat cafe.”

“A… cat cafe?”

“You should be proud of yourself, you’ve dragged me away from a fantastic retirement home with your troublemaking.”

Sure. A cat cafe. Maybe Izuku would get the real story out of him at some point. For now, he moved on to the next topic.

“I don’t want to run the government solely on nepotism. But I trust you all, and I want you with me.” He stood. He could do this. “I think I’ll hold interviews for interim government workers. I don’t have time to hold elections, and it’s not going to look like this when we transition back to a democracy anyway. So I’ll do this like a business - take applications for government positions, hold interviews. Maybe none of us know how to run a business or a country, but it wouldn’t be the first time a background as a hero served as a job recommendation in itself. You’ve all just turned in your applications here, so you get the first round of interviews. That might not be the way things are supposed to work, but I’m the dictator now and that’s what I say.”

Izuku was pretty sure the cheering he heard was from Ashido and Hagakure. He ignored it.

“That also means you can fail your interview, so keep that in mind. Bring anyone else you think is qualified for a government position as well. Pick a department to apply for, research it, and be ready to explain the position you want and why you’d be qualified for it when you come in for an interview. Have a backup position ready in case I’m not convinced by your first idea, or I’ve filled it with someone else.” He nodded. “Hopefully once that’s done I’ll have dragged enough information out of the villain squad to replace them, and then we can start actually sorting through things. Interviews start three days from now. Questions?”

“The villain squad?” Tsuyu asked, tilting her head. “You mean the ones who worked for All for One?”

“Shigaraki, Kurogiri, Gigantomachia, and Dabi. They’re unfortunately running things at the moment. The rest ran off somewhere, keep an eye out for them.”

“You didn’t arrest the fuckheads yet?” Bakugou sounded genuinely curious beneath the usual outraged tone.

“They know where everything is. Including the finances, communication system, paperwork, and secrets from All for One and the former government.”

“Here’s my goddamn interview: I’m gonna blast their faces until they squeal every dirty little fucking secret their mamas ever told them.”

“No, Kacchan, if I'm going to threaten them I’ll do it myself. I’ll keep you in mind as backup if I want it, though. Any other questions?”

“Yeah, um. When will you start the interviews for the general public?” Jirou asked. “It sounds like some of us have studying to do.” She glanced in Kaminari’s direction.

“I’ll give it a week from the start of your interviews.” Izuku hoped that would work. He was making this up as he went along.

“Well, I’d better get going,” Aizawa said, turning to leave. “I’ve got people to find and a portfolio to put together. See you in three days.” He waved as he left.

“I should go too,” Sero said. “I’ll get in contact with the other UA alumni, they might want to help out.”

Izuku nodded. He’d see what the emails from the pro heroes he’d seen in his inbox had to say. He should probably get back to work, but he still needed to tell Todoroki about his brother and officially inform Yagi (and everyone else) of his new appointment as Secretary of State. He felt a pang of guilt over the latter. It wasn’t going to be a fun job.

 

 

Izuku didn’t have time to watch Yagi’s press conference. He was too busy reading. There were so many things to read. There was old government paperwork. There was new government paperwork. There were All for One’s strangely helpful notes on the practical aspects of running a government (which further illuminated how necessary the information held by the former League of Villains was). Once Dabi pointed Izuku in the direction of the library, Izuku usually filled any breaks he took from that with feverishly skimming books on political and government models as recommended by the top internet search results, which oddly coincided with All for One’s own recommendations half the time (those had an entire section in All for One’s database).

The database had an equally large section on running businesses as it did on government. Izuku figured that that was best saved till later, except for the part about payroll, which he read before he called in Shigaraki and had a very long and informative discussion on the state of the national treasury. After getting over the fact that Shigaraki could actually manage money properly - not a skill Izuku would’ve imagined him possessing - Izuku had a much better understanding of how many people he could hire and what sort of salaries he could give them.

They really did have a lot of positions to fill, he mused as he walked through empty hallways. Including janitors. The big empty Diet building wouldn’t be empty for long, and All for One’s lackeys had apparently stuck to the same few rooms, leaving the other rooms with their suspicious stains to gather dust. At least there weren’t actual bodies lying around. He put janitors (and hazmat teams) on the list of things to do, a growing list that he kept in his phone and tried to avoid looking at too often. It had increasingly longer load times every time he pulled it up.

Halfway through the second day of reading (only really stopping for any significant time when he fell asleep at his keyboard), he enlisted Gigantomachia and Yagi to help him sort through the applications from the general public after the press conference. They were already starting to pour in on the website Dabi had set up for them, and Izuku clearly hadn’t thought through just how many there would be. Gigantomachia caught on quickly to what criteria Izuku was looking for. Yagi himself needed little explanation. Izuku found himself hoping someone would locate Hatsume for the interviews, she’d be able to code something that could automate the process. Either way, he’d definitely be announcing a deadline on the applications, if only so all of Japan didn’t send one in.

Kurogiri appeared occasionally, usually with food, water, coffee, and the occasional urgent report. Izuku also spotted him cleaning several times, and was pretty sure he was responsible for the comfortable-looking sofa that appeared in a corner of the office. Most of the reports had to do with villain unrest, but Kurogiri noted that the unrest was less than expected. Usually former pro heroes in hiding (or the ever-increasing number of untrained vigilantes) arrived on the scene first, and having lost their tacit support from the incumbent leadership the villains tended to be subdued quickly. The heroes themselves were getting bolder. Izuku took this as a good sign, because he needed one.

He was in a continuous state of exhaustion, though, which was probably why he responded as he did when Kurogiri cautiously asked if other members of the former League of Villains could show up for the first round of interviews.

“Sure, why the hell not,” Izuku said after a long gulp of the coffee Kurogiri brought with him. “Though I might arrest them if they fail the interview. If they’re here I can keep an eye on them and I won’t feel as bad if they drop dead from exhaustion, but I won’t hire them if they’re not worth it. You’ll be interviewed, too, by the way. Did I mention that already?”

“You did, yes.”

This was probably a terrible idea, but thanks to whatever education program All for One had put them through, the League of Villains might actually be some of the more competent applicants. Wasn’t that a depressing thought. He’d have to find a way to explain to everyone why he had villains working for him, but… maybe he’d keep them around until the criminal justice and prison reforms were done, and then he could arrest them without worrying about the legalities after the Constitution was reinstated. He should make those a priority. He pulled up All for One’s notes and a copy of the Constitution, along with a book on criminal justice and rehabilitation. Oh right. Dabi had studied this. And he’d need money for the reforms.

“Get Dabi, Shigaraki, and more coffee,” he told Kurogiri, who was still there for some reason, before leaning forward to rest his head against the cool wood of the desk. That was nice. He probably needed to stop calling the villains by their villain names. He was too tired to remember that now.

“Right away, Supreme Overlord.”

“And stop calling me that,” he mumbled into the desk. Not that the last 50 times he’d said that had any effect. Maybe the 51st would do the trick.

The morning of the first interviews was bright and sunny, which was irritating to Izuku’s tired eyes since he hadn’t slept a wink. He stumbled to a bathroom that for some reason had a shower, passing a snoring Gigantomachia and hovering Kurogiri on the way. If Izuku didn’t know better he’d think the sentient smoke was worried. Just his imagination, he was sure. As were any deeper assumptions to be made about the fact that the business suit he found when he came out of the shower fit him perfectly.

He left the tie off, and the jacket as well once he looked in the mirror and realized that the outfit resembled All for One’s. The vest stayed; it had pockets. Pockets that held Izuku’s own stash of quirk suppressants and tranquilizers. The shirt and pants were likewise of a cut that hid some of Izuku’s more inconspicuous gadgets, which had been left alongside the suit. The care taken in the transfer was appallingly professional. He’d feel more secure in his full hero gear, but it had disappeared and Izuku was too tired to figure out where it went. He’d punch its location out of Kurogiri later if he had to; he was fairly certain of the identity of the culprit. The bathroom door was locked.

He woke up Yagi, who also stumbled to the bathroom, while Izuku tried to tame his hair into some semblance of order. He gave up quickly. At some point Gigantomachia woke up and wandered off - probably to freshen up himself, since he refused to leave Izuku’s general vicinity otherwise - and Shigaraki wandered in, startling a bit at Izuku’s appearance. It was probably the fact that Izuku wasn’t wearing the clothes he’d been in for the past few days.

“The NPCs are gathering in the lobby.” Shigaraki said.

Izuku sighed. “Kurogiri - I mean Shirakumo? Would you go make sure everyone stays in the lobby and doesn’t need anything?” He’d be the least likely of this bunch to start a fight with the interviewees.

“Yes, Supreme Overlord.”

Izuku sighed harder.

Gigantomachia returned as Shigaraki left. Izuku thought he heard a muttered “I see it now” from Shigaraki.

He wasn’t sure what that was about, but it didn’t matter. It was time to start the interviews.

 

 

“Gigantomachia, I assume you’re going first, since you’re here?”
“I will stay, Supreme Overlord. Assassination attempts are likely.”
“I don’t have the energy to argue with you. But you’ll have to stay outside the room while I’m interviewing everyone else.”
“I will not. There are many heroes. Heroes can’t be trusted.”
“I’m a - never mind. I’m sure you didn’t argue with All for One when he told you to wait elsewhere, so I will have you show me the same respect if you’re going to work for me, which you seem to want.”
“I disapprove, but will comply.”
“Good. So why should I keep you at all?”
“I will guard your safety, as All for One wished. You will have to remove me by force. This will be difficult.”
“I don’t doubt it, but I will if I have to.”
“Also, I am a good personal aide.”
“Better than I expected, really. You aren’t looking for more than that?”
“No. Anything for my Master, and now for you.”
“Well, I suppose it’s as good a way to keep an eye on you as any. I can tell anyone who argues to try removing you themselves. Just don’t break any buildings or people, or I will remove you by force.”
“Good. I will wait outside now, Supreme Overlord.”

 

 

“Yaoyoruzu-san, thank you for coming. I’ve had the honor of working with your daughter for the past few years.”
“Momo has wonderful things to say about you, Midoriya. Oh, I apologize, it’s Supreme Overlord Midoriya now, isn’t it?
“No. No, Midoriya is fine.”
“Ahaha. Well, as you can see from my resume, I am applying for a position in the Department of Commerce. I think I will be an excellent addition, as our family has generations of experience with business law and economics, which I’ve studied myself - with the family quirk, of course, it’s important to be careful when running our companies. I’ve left my husband in charge of those, by the way, so I can focus my full attention on this position should you hire me.”
“I suppose I should warn you now that if you use your position to make provisions that favor your family’s businesses, that you will be discharged immediately and probably receive prison time? Depending on how we decide to handle criminal law.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
“Great! Why don’t you explain how you would handle the Department of Commerce if you were in charge of it.”

 

 

“Stealing your boss’s clothes isn’t a good first impression for an interview, Shirakumo.”
”I apologize if I’ve overstepped, Supreme Overlord, but I took the liberty of washing your hero suit while ensuring that you appeared professional to the public.”
“You mean it stunk to high heaven. I suppose I can overlook it this time, but ask next time. I’m not Shigaraki, I don’t need to be tricked into taking care of myself.”
“Very well.”
“So, what department are you applying for?”
“Diplomatic relations. I believe my credentials are obvious, though I’ve taken the liberty of including my resume with a fresh cup of coffee.”
“Dammit.”
“I’m sorry, Supreme Overlord?”
“You’re right, you’re perfect for the position, you’ve got years of experience smoothing relations between tantrum-throwing villains. You can handle challenges that would make actual diplomats soil their pants. Your Warp Gate is pretty much indispensable right now. And you’re still the only one who knows where a lot of things are, like the coffee. I hate the fact that I can’t get rid of you so much.”
“Thank… you? Oh, and while we’re on the subject, may I recommend a stronger brand of quirk suppressants? The ones you are carrying will work, but there are better ones available on the current market.”
“So much.”

 

 

“I’ve been talking with my brothers Natsuo and Touya.”
“That was not the opening I thought you’d go for, Todoroki.”
“We’d like to reform the hero system. We don’t want another Endeavor. We’ve got a plan.”
“Huh. I believe Natsuo Todoroki was studying health and welfare?”
“He was.”
“With Da… Touya Todoroki studying criminal justice and rehabilitation, and you as an actual hero who graduated from UA. Sounds like a promising combination. Why don’t you tell me about this plan?”

 

 

“Hey, Guinea Pig! How have you been treating my babies? Wearing suits now? I bet I could make the best formal wear for all your Overlordly needs!”
“Hi, Hatsume. How quickly do you think you could write a program to intelligently filter applications for government positions?”
“Give me the criteria and thirty minutes!”
“I’m definitely going to regret this. We have an hour. Do it and you have a position in the Ministry of Science and Technology.”

 

 

“Izuku, honey!”
“Mom? Are you applying for a position?”
“No, dear, I’ve just been worried. You haven’t been home for four days.”
“... Sorry, Mom, I know I should’ve called.”
“You promised, Izuku.”
“I know, Mom, I’m so sorry. I’ve just been so busy…”
“I know, dear. You have the next hour with me, right?”
“I guess. No offense, but I should probably get back to the actual -”
“Nonsense. You’ll lay down on that sofa over there and stay there until my interview time is over, I can tell you haven’t been sleeping again.”
“Uh…”
“Argue or sleep, honey.”
“... Thanks, Mom.”

 

 

“You want to be… a janitor, Kaminari?”
“Yeah, man, Jirou was trying to tell me to find a department and study up, but I know I’m just not cut out for this stuff. But someone’s gotta clean the place, someone who won’t sneak paperwork out or whatever they do in the movies.”
“You’re hired.”
“What?”
“You’ll get the details later on what sort of crew you can hire to help you out.”
“What?”

 

 

“So, uh, Supreme Overlord Midoriya, my brothers and I -”
“Shouto Todoroki already told me about your plans for the hero system and promised to keep an eye on you. You can stay for now.”
“Wow. I never thought you’d actually go for it.”
“It’s a great plan. I have to ask: why did you stay? The others all are essentially brainwashed, but you don’t seem stupidly loyal like they are.”
“Shouto told you about our old man, right?”
“He did.”
“Well, my goal in life was pretty much to see the bastard taken down. I got to see that, so… I guess I don’t have much left. Except maybe making sure bastards like him don’t get away with that shit ever again.”
“Makes sense. Well, as I said, you can stay, but one toe out of line -”
“And I’ll find myself with a one-way ticket to outer space, got it.”

 

 

“YEEEEAAAH MAN!”
“Yamada-sensei, I have the highest respect for you as a former teacher and a hero, but I have a headache and that is not helping.”
“Sorry, dude, I just can’t believe I used to teach Japan’s most rockin’ Supreme Overlord! When my man Aizawa told me you needed peeps, I couldn’t just sit around.”
“I’m not a ‘Supreme Overlord’, I’m temporarily in charge of an interim government until things settle down. Anyway, what position are you here for?
“PR, my man! Just ‘cause you’re taking a break from the hero gig doesn’t mean the listeners don’t need to know what’s kicking. It’ll keep folks calm to know their totally awesome Supreme Overlord has their best interests in mind with all the stuff you’ve got going on.”
“Well, I suppose Yagi-san would appreciate not having to do all the press conferences. And don’t call me that.”

 

 

“Tensei Iida, thanks for coming! I’ve been a fan of your work for a while, and your brother always has great things to say about you.”
“Why, thank you! It’s a bit rare these days to meet fans of the old Ingenium.”
“Er, well, yes, definitely that too, but I meant the charity work you’ve been doing. You’ve helped so many people, and the Tensei Iida Foundation was one of the few nonprofits that refused to close after the recent coup.”
“With the welfare system down and hospitals overflowing, people need help now more than ever.”
“I agree entirely. So, would I be wrong in thinking that that’s why you’re here?”
“Not at all. I saw enough problems with the welfare system before everything went down, so since my little bro said you’re going to be cleaning things up, I thought I’d see if you wanted help with a bit of welfare reform.”
“That does sound like something I might be interested in. What do you have in mind?”

 

 

“Alright, Tenko Shimura, you’ve got your work cut out for you. You’ve been the leader of a bunch of real nuisances, which is why it’ll take some convincing for me to keep you around.”
“I’ll tell you where all the best villain hideouts are. Sensei said you'd like that. Perks of being the GM.”
“For a job, Shimura.”
“Do you know how much food Japan imports every year? It’s stupid. We’ve got all this room in our territory, might as well use it. No one wants to be rural any more, the heroes all hang out in cities because they’re show-offs, so everyone’s in the cities because they think they’ll be 'protected' or whatever. Most of the people out in the sticks are either hiding from the pros or too old to do the ‘smart’ thing and move. Sensei had so many bases that never got discovered just because the nearest village was full of idiots who couldn’t, or just didn’t, get out of their own front doors.”
“That sounds like a problem.”
“It’s a problem, alright. Easy solution though. The NPCs are out there already, I’ll get them to work. Can’t be harder than dealing with the Paranormal Liberation Front trash mobs. Invest some gold, and we’ll get a guild going. Old folks can educate the noobs, we incentivize the noobs to do some actual work. Have them deal with the forests too, you never know what you’ll find in there so someone’s got to.”
“That sounds… workable. Maybe. I’m sure there’s more to it than that?”
“Got a fucking pen, Your Mightiness?”

 

 

“Tsukauchi? You aren’t going back to your old job with the police?”
“An old friend of mine said you’d need helping with restructuring the National Public Safety Commission as part of your criminal justice and hero industry reforms. He asked me to apply.”
“A recommendation from the Secretary of State is definitely helpful, but I’d like to hear a bit more from you personally. So, what changes would you want to make to the police department if you could?”

 

 

“Natsuo Todoroki. Your brothers have already been through here. Do you have anything to add to the plan they presented?”
“No.”
“You’re hired, looking forward to working with you.”

 

 

“Twice? I can’t believe you actually showed up.”
“Jin Bubaigawara, pleased to meetcha. No, you idiot, you’re terrified to meet him!”
“So what do you think you can do for me that’ll keep you out of prison?”
“Occupational Health and Safety’s my field, you won’t find anyone more motivated than me! I’m gonna die. I came here for a job and I’m gonna die.”
“I’ll let you have your best shot at convincing me for the next hour, if that’s any comfort.”
“That’s a terrible comfort. No, wait, here’s my resume, see -”

 

 

“Uraraka-san, I’m pleased to meet you.”
“Pleased to meet you too, er, Supreme Overlord Midoriya, Ochako has told my wife and I so much about you!”
“Er… I’m sure, yes. Please call me Midoriya. Your daughter is a good friend of mine and a great hero.”
“We’re so proud of our little girl. She told us you’re looking for people, and, well, I’m a simple man and don’t know much about politics, but she thinks you could use my help, so I’m here.”
“I’m sure I’ve got a place for you. I know you run a construction company, Uraraka-san?”
“Yep. I took it over from my old man, who took it over from his. Runs in the family. We’ve dealt with plenty of permits and building codes and such, so I guess I’m not completely ignorant when it comes to law.”
“How much do you know about urban infrastructure?”
“I could probably tell you a thing or two. You see -”

 

 

“I gave you my goddamn interview.”
“Kacchan, that wasn’t an interview. That was a threat. You need to tell me a position you’re applying for, that I will consider useful, and threatening the temporary hires isn’t an open position right now.”
“The hell… temporary hires?”
“What can I say, they convinced me they’d be useful.”
“What the fuck. Well then, you at least need to ditch Craggy McMountain and get a bodyguard who you can trust. I don’t care if you hire me, I’m fucking volunteering.”
“I don’t need a bodyguard, but maybe I have someone else who needs one. Kacchan, how would you feel about making sure anyone who decides to go after my mother regrets it?”
“It would be my fucking pleasure.”

 

 

“Aizawa-sensei? Good, you’re in charge of intelligence and internal affairs. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to spend the next hour asleep on the sofa. I’m sure you’ll understand.”
“I’ll leave a list of sleeping bag recommendations on your desk.”
“Thanks.”

 

 

The final day of the interviews ended long after the sun went down. Izuku couldn’t remember being more exhausted in his life. He was currently facedown on the sofa.

“How are things looking with the departments, Young Midoriya?” asked an even more scarecrow-looking Yagi. Yagi had been hard at work helping the new hires settle in, sending out regular press releases (until Present Mic took over the job), and mostly doing Izuku’s job while Izuku was interviewing people.

“Oh. Right. While all of them definitely need more people, we don’t have anyone in charge of the Ministry of Education, Culture, Science and Technology. I think they’re all scared of Hatsume. Shimura will give up his position in charge of the Ministry of Finance as soon as we find someone to take over. We’ve got a lot of different branches of the Ministry of Justice but no one to really coordinate them. No one cares much about the Ministry of the Environment. A lot of former pros seem to care about the Department of Defense but no one’s quite right for it so far. Tsuyu is working with Selkie to put together a proper coast guard, but that’s about it. The Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism has people for the first two and no one for the last two. We have almost no international relations to worry about at the moment, so Kurogiri has been helping Aizawa-sensei with internal affairs, but he can’t keep doing that once the ambassadors start returning.”

“That’s… not too bad, actually. A lot of departments must have people in charge of them.”

“They do.” Izuku offered a wobbly smile. “We even have janitors. Mineta was scared away from interviewing by Gigantomachia, but he and Kaminari have been cleaning offices and running errands for everyone since Wednesday. They recruited Kirishima, Sero, Ojirou and Satou to help out. They’ll all pick departments to shadow twice a week, and clean the rest, and they’ll reapply if they find a place that suits them.”

“I’ve seen some of your other classmates around as well.”

“Momo, Iida, and Uraraka are interning with their relatives in Commerce, Welfare and Infrastructure respectively. Tokoyami, Shinsou, Jirou, Hagakure and Shouji are working with Aizawa-sensei in Intel. Ashido and Aoyama are helping out Yamada-sensei with PR. I’m sorry about Kouda. He’s in Agriculture with Shimura. Oh, and I’ve got Compress with Twice over in Labor, by the way. I mean Sako with Bubaigawara. Should keep an eye on that.”

Yagi placed a hand on his back. “Get some rest, my boy. Everything’s going as well as can be expected. I’m here.” It’ll be alright, he didn’t quite say, though Izuku heard it anyway.

There was still so much to do. General interviews started tomorrow, and while the applications had been filtered with Hatsume’s brilliant program and many could be held by the people in charge of the various departments rather than Izuku, he still would have plenty of interviews to conduct himself.

He had so much reading to do. He’d barely scratched the surface of the knowledge he needed, but now that he had people he’d be busier than ever making sure they were doing what they needed to do. Whatever that was. The former villains were probably the ones with the best idea about what was going on, and Izuku still hated that fact.

He needed to make sure all the plans for reforms were properly coordinated, especially ones that spanned multiple departments and industries. He had people he trusted on criminal justice reform, but he couldn’t rest easily until it was in place and working. He needed to reform Quirk regulations… too…

Izuku drifted off, lulled by the hand steadily rubbing his back.

Notes:

I know there's a scene or two that people hoped to see in this chapter that I didn't end up writing. This was mostly due to this being entirely Izuku's perspective, but also because I had a limited amount of time to finish this and they weren't necessary to the main plot. I might revisit this fic once I'm done posting the main story and write a few extra scenes as bonus content - I do have a few ideas - but no promises. I hope you enjoy the chapter anyway!

And once again, thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos and bookmarks. You folks brighten up my week.

Chapter 4: Great Stress

“The more I read these notes, the less sense All for One makes.”
“You said you found them helpful.”
“Oh, they are, and that’s the problem. He did none of this. It’s why he failed so badly when he tried to run Japan. There’s entire sections where he did the exact opposite of what he wrote. Why would he do that?”
“If I’m ever a 200-year-old supervillain-turned-dictator, I’ll let you know, Young Midoriya.”
“At least that part makes sense.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if some of these notes are 200 years old themselves. He must’ve been working on this database for decades, at least. It’s brilliant. There’s notes for everything, and it all works. I’m starting to think he planned this.”
“Maybe he had a poor memory and wanted to make sure he remembered how to run things?”
“Then why wouldn’t he use them for their intended purpose when he did take over Japan? There’s something going on here, and I think I need to find out what that is.”

 

 

The interviews for the general public ended with more than satisfactory new hires, in Izuku’s opinion. They weren’t people he knew, and he found it hard to really trust them, but he had enough people he did trust to make sure they had oversight. If nothing else, he heard about most departments’ activities from the janitorial team. Many of his former classmates - the ones not being run into the ground themselves - had chosen Izuku’s office as their designated break room after an initial avoidance of the looming, usually-silent Gigantomachia who inhabited a corner and passed Izuku paperwork. They were heroes, however, and an imposing former villain wasn’t enough to keep them away for more than a few days. Several could usually be found there, chatting about the goings-on in the departments they frequented.

The familiar chatter of his former classmates wasn’t quite the same without Bakugou’s presence, but it was probably better for Izuku’s focus that Bakugou was absent. More accurately, Bakugou only bothered Izuku over text and email. His initial rants were mostly about how quiet Izuku’s home was and how he was bored. Maybe Izuku should send some of the chatterers to keep him occupied; they seemed to have plenty of time on their hands.

Izuku could’ve chased them out so he could concentrate, but they were a valuable source of information on the state of affairs, so he let them be. They were how he found out that Kurogiri and Kayama, who’d joined Aizawa in Internal Affairs, were the parties chiefly responsible for quelling tensions between former villains and heroes. He also learned that Shigaraki had ranted at poor, terrified Kouda for three hours straight about how farmers were seen as idiots when in fact their jobs were incredibly complex and - well, Izuku had ignored the rest of the dramatic retelling. It was how the growing number of government workers who’d taken to sleeping at the National Diet Building rather than going home at the end of the day was brought to his attention.

Izuku, after consulting with Aizawa, sent a government-wide email with sleeping bag recommendations. He also sent a note to Finances to increase the budget for coffee and tea. The Department of OH&S - well, Twice - emailed him a well-documented study about how people were more productive if they had time off every week. Izuku forwarded that to the rest of the government too, with a note that departments should be organized so everyone could have a day off every week in rotating shifts. If they had to hire more people for their department, that was fine; applications were still pouring in.

There were a few who refused to take breaks - Izuku himself being among them, as well as Yagi - but the morale seemed to improve slightly at the news. The tensions with the villainous staff members decreased as well. Izuku heard that some departments were now calling Twice their hero. Twice reportedly couldn’t decide what to think about that.

The morale also improved when Izuku forwarded carefully chosen and edited excerpts from All for One’s database to the relevant departments. According to the enthusiastic feedback, the notes were easy-to-follow, insightful, and remarkably popular. The janitorial crew frequently asked for notes on whatever departments they were shadowing that day. Izuku felt bothered by the fact that he was using advice from a supervillain, but it was the most competent source of advice he had, so he’d take what he could get.

He complained to Yagi about the strange contrast between the All for One’s theories and actions. The resulting conversation solidified his decision to investigate All for One’s reasoning for… all of this. Questioning the former League of Villains members did little to shed light on the situation, even when Aizawa joined him with his signature terrifying grin (which only faltered when it came time to question a nervous Kurogiri). The answers shed little light on All for One’s motivations, though many of his operations came to light. The former villains were overly eager to offer whatever intelligence they had, probably because they thought it would keep them out of prison. Izuku and Aizawa learned about hideouts, operations, caches, and the last known whereabouts of other villains.

The last was particularly interesting. For example, Himiko Toga was one of the few original members of the League of Villains that hadn’t reappeared alongside All for One during or after his coup. Izuku and his friends exchanged a lot of theories regarding her location in their months of hiding. As it turned out, she had annoyed All for One about a year and a half ago and was kicked out of the League. No one knew how she’d annoyed him so badly. The best explanation was from Dabi, who said that she’d been loudly daydreaming about what she wanted to do to Izuku about an hour before All for One called her in for a chat and announced that she’d been dismissed from the League. No one had seen her again. Twice added that he’d nearly left over it, but it was water under the bridge now.

Izuku couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for Toga - she’d killed a lot of people - but he was vaguely uneasy at the prospect of her running around somewhere, or turned into a biological nightmare. He was even more uneasy at the subtle implication Dabi threw his way by knowingly pointing out the timing of the “dismissal”. Izuku’s sanity was much happier believing that it was a coincidence. All for One surely didn’t feel strongly enough about Izuku to… to get rid of one of his own lieutenants? He probably just got annoyed with the yammering itself. If Izuku was actually an evil overlord in charge of the League, he’d definitely have murdered one or two of them at some point over their inane chatter.

Yeah, he’d handed Japan off to Izuku, but that was more of a curse than anything with all the work it was turning out to be. Maybe All for One just didn’t want to bother with making an effort, and passed the task on to his worst enemy (or that enemy’s successor). That was easier on Izuku’s sanity than the thought that the man was willing to get rid of his own people for… what. Being creepy or vaguely threatening about Izuku?

In the end, Izuku was left with more questions than answers. Examining the database also failed to turn up any real clues on All for One’s thought process. Which left finding the man himself and asking what he was thinking.

Izuku should probably do that anyway. All for One on the loose seemed like a recipe for disaster, sooner or later. Aizawa agreed that they needed to prioritize finding All for One’s whereabouts, along with Doctor Dalma Ujiko, his favorite producer of biological horrors. They’d start by sending some people from Intelligence to investigate the hideouts revealed by the resident villain crew. That left nothing further for Izuku to do on that topic; he was far too busy to chase leads himself.

He was so busy with reforms - and putting together a model for new anti-Quirk-discrimination laws - that he almost missed his mother’s messages that she wanted him home for dinner at some point. Apparently his father, Hisashi Midoriya, had showed his face again - about two weeks after the general interviews ended. According to Bakugou’s report, the man had walked in the door like he’d just stepped out for a shopping trip and then refused to leave in spite of Bakugou’s best efforts. Izuku had to admit that he was slightly impressed; Bakugou’s best efforts were not easy to refuse. Inko might have been left homeless from the resulting explosions if she hadn’t made Bakugou leave while she talked with her husband for several hours, and afterward she seemed perfectly happy to let Hisashi Midoriya come back home after over a decade of absence.

Inko insisted, in response to Izuku’s questions, that he visit home if he wanted answers. Bakugou was more forthcoming. Bakugou and Hisashi were at each other’s throats whenever Hisashi was home, and if Izuku didn’t know better, he’d think the man was intentionally annoying Bakugou. It was certainly working; Bakugou’s messages contained a level of expletives that Izuku hadn’t seen since Bakugou’s feud with Monoma in their third year at UA. Izuku was pretty sure Aizawa’s interference was the only thing that had prevented bloodshed then. Since Aizawa was busy with the government, Izuku should probably visit, if only to prevent a murder.

He needed to make sure his mother was alright anyway. Considering the timing, it was obvious that she had a gold-digger of a deadbeat husband who she just let swan his way back into her life like nothing was wrong. There was no way Hisashi Midoriya was back for any decent purpose, not if he only showed up after Izuku became an adult and was put in charge of the country. In the meantime, he sent Bakugou a message telling him not to kill the man until Izuku got a chance to talk to him (he’d do his own killing, thanks), but tacitly approving any petty harassment Bakugou could offer. He penciled a dinner appointment into his overstuffed schedule.

Before that, though, was the press conference.

“My dude, you need to talk to the listeners,” Yamada told him over a report. “Me and my man Yagi are keeping things quiet, but they need to see you’re still alive and kicking. Last thing they saw was you collapsing on stage and that’s just not gonna fly.”

Izuku nodded. “The public unrest is really not as bad as I thought it would be, but I can’t put it off forever. They probably want to know where I’m planning to take the government from here, right?”

“You get it, S.O.!”

“S…. O…?”

“Makes you sound more approachable than Supreme Overlord, dontcha think? Rolls off the tongue better too.”

Izuku covered his face with his hands. “Please tell me you haven’t been telling the press that I’m the Supreme Overlord. Or… S.O.”

“What else? You know that every radio personality needs a groovin’ name!”

Former teacher or not, Izuku was going to kill this moron of a hero, and then he was going to crawl off to die of embarrassment in a hole somewhere.

 

 

Izuku didn’t kill or fire Yamada, or die himself. Which was unfortunate, because that meant he still had to do the press conference. At least Yagi was with him. He’d finally got around to watching Yagi’s press conference, as well as the one Yamada had thrown together shortly after the first round of interviews was over. They said a lot that they needed to. Yagi had even acknowledged Izuku as his successor in confirmation of All for One’s words, though he declined any questions about what that meant. But there were some things that Izuku had to say himself, and as his first real press conference since Izuku was instated as leader of Japan, Izuku had to make this count.

“I hate press conferences,” Izuku moaned while the makeup team powdered his face for the spotlights and clicked their tongues at his refusal to wear a tie. Yagi was in a chair beside him, with his own team fussing over his appearance.

“They’re a necessary evil,” Yagi responded in a resigned tone.

Yagi joined the lineup of cabinet ministers behind Izuku, while Izuku stepped in front of the microphone and tried to maintain a smile as he faced the sea of media. It was probably a bit wobbly, but maybe the cameras wouldn’t pick that up.

“People of Japan,” Izuku began. He took a deep breath. He could do this.

“I stand before you today, as both a hero and a leader. The first is by choice. The second is not. It was as much a shock to myself as I’m sure it was to you when All for One transferred his own self-appointed dictatorial position to me. I am not trained to lead a government, I did not study politics. I’m sure there’s plenty of people who might serve Japan better than I could.” Izuku swallowed hard. The lights were too bright, there were too many people. He’d always hated this part of hero work, even when he didn’t imagine the judgement in every pair of eyes directed his way.

You can do this, Izuku, he told himself. Like Amajiki said when he was scared. Press on.

“So why am I still here? Why haven’t I found one of those people and passed the responsibility on to them? I’m sure many of you are wondering if I’ve gone drunk with power and decided to turn this from an interim government to a permanent one. Or maybe I’m secretly connected to All for One. What am I even planning to do with Japan? That’s the question of the moment. To answer that, I have a disclosure to make.”

He leaned forward, this next part was important. “Two hundred years ago, quirks appeared and Japan’s government declared a state of emergency in response to the riots. Once the riots were over, they never announced an end to it. Instead, they heaped law upon unconstitutional law, denying criminals or suspected criminals due process and imprisoning them as they saw fit, with the brands of “hero” and ‘villain’ as an excuse to disregard almost every article that deals with criminal justice. They imposed rampant censorship of the press in the name of keeping the peace. They violated the foundational principles our Constitution was founded on because people developed powers they couldn’t control. As we speak, I’m releasing evidence for all of this online. You can fact-check it as you please; I certainly have.”

Izuku waited for the excited babbling to quiet down, and ignored the shouted questions. Once he had silence again, he continued.

“Because of this, despite not being the optimal person for the job, I have decided to ensure that our mistakes will not be repeated. Before anything else, I choose to be a hero. I will not carry on All for One’s legacy of blood and fear, nor will I allow a continuation of the previous government’s legacy of secrets and control. I will do everything in my power to protect as many people as I can, and that includes protecting not only their safety but also their right to live freely. Your safety, and your right to live freely. I plan to have every law reexamined, every state department investigated, set right everything that went wrong, if that’s what I need to do to restore those rights.

“And I want it to be public. I want every dirty secret dragged into the light, so that when I am finished, the new government under our Constitution will not repeat the mistakes of its predecessors. I want everyone to know what went wrong, everything that went ignored, so that we will never again turn a blind eye to injustice and loss of freedom. After democracy resumes, elections are held, and the rights of the Japanese people are restored in full, I will lay down the leadership forced upon me and go back to my duty of protecting peace and justice as a hero, whatever that role looks like by then.” It wouldn’t be the same - the rankings based on popularity, for example, were one of the first things ditched by the Todoroki brothers - but Izuku had only ever wanted to help and protect people anyway.

“Of course, government reform doesn’t happen in a day, and crime does not wait for those reforms. The police are in shambles, the heroes are in hiding. And talk is cheap. The streets need to be safe now, which is why I’ve prioritized restoring a criminal justice system that operates lawfully. We are still in the process of finishing the reforms, as well as expanding the judicial system enough to allow fair and public trials for everyone, but as of today the prisons and police departments are reopened, with new laws in place to allow everyone who enters them due process.

“In the meantime, the police can not be everywhere, and we’re still in the process of organizing reform for the hero system. Which is part of why I’ve decided on the following.” Izuku smiled, this was definitely his favorite part. “Nonviolent usage of quirks, to the extent that they do no harm nor infringe on another person’s wellbeing, rights, or property, is permitted to the public. Quirks may be used in defense of oneself and others, provided a case can be made for the necessity of that defense in a court of law. Possession of a quirk considered ‘villainous’ will no longer be grounds for suspicion of criminal activity, so keep that in mind when gathering your evidence. Anyone who causes harm to others’ person or property, with or without the use of a quirk, no matter what that quirk is, will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. The exact definitions of what that entails are available to the public electronically, effective today.”

There was so much more that Izuku wanted to say about quirks and their use - the right to one’s individuality, the problems of discrimination, the social reforms that he wanted to promote. But this was enough for now.

“As our Constitution says, ‘Government is a sacred trust of the people, the authority for which is derived from the people, the powers of which are exercised by the representatives of the people, and the benefits of which are enjoyed by the people.’ I hope that it will not be long before those words are truer than they’ve been in centuries. Thank you. Questions are open.”

Immediate pandemonium swept the crowd, and Izuku barely managed to indicate a purple-haired woman in the front row for the first question. “You say you’re not working with All for One, but reports say that his former supporters are currently working for you in your new government. Why haven’t they been arrested?”

“They know where everything is from All for One’s regime, as well as much of the former government, and they are in the process of transferring this information and their duties to the relevant ministries. I have scores of former pro heroes, who also work for me, keeping an eye on them. If they try anything I will know, and they will be in prison faster than they can apologize. Next question. You with the blue scarf.”

“Why did you choose to keep All for One’s title of Supreme Overlord?”

Izuku really hated press conferences.

 

 

At least the press conference was effective, even if he spent several hours seriously contemplating firing Yamada over the spread of that horrible title. Maybe he should start with the former villains. They were the ones who kept calling him Supreme Overlord until everyone else picked it up.

But public opinion rocketed afterward. Yamada and the rest of the PR department declared it uncanny. They’d anticipated backlash over legalizing public quirk use right after several months of villain attacks and quirks used for terror, but… there wasn’t? There was definitely some arguing about it on the internet, along with some distrust over whether Izuku really planned to step down, but the media response was overwhelmingly positive. Applications for judges and prosecutioners began to pour in to the understaffed judicial system. Izuku was starting to worry about the state of the National Treasury with all the new hires, never mind the reforms.

Strangely, though, the economy - and resulting taxes - also weren’t as bad as projections showed they should be after that same public chaos. Many industries showed signs of preparation for the chaotic times - paying for bodyguards, saving profits, changing their production based on the anticipated needs of an emergency scenario. After that report, Izuku asked Momo to put together a list of companies that showed signs of that preparation. The list was lengthy, and after cross-referencing it with Gigantomachia and Kurogiri, Izuku found that only a few of them had preparations that could be directly traced to All for One’s direct manipulations by way of inserting villains into their ranks.

Izuku should probably look into that more closely.

Reviewing the economy, according to Mrs. Yaoyorozu, uncovered a few other oddities stretching much farther back. Other countries with quirk discrimination as rampant as Japan and similar economies had much lower employment rates due to the quirkless or those with villainous, mutant or ‘weak’ quirks not being able to find employment. Japan hadn’t followed that trend for the past century. There were definitely people who had difficulty finding employment due to their quirks, but many of the larger corporations had stringent - and similar - anti-discrimination policies in regards to quirks. These companies also had a significant overlap with the list of companies that had been prepared for the chaos.

They also had all hidden their owners through a string of anonymous partnerships, shell companies, and fancy maneuvering with laws. Everything Mrs. Yaoyorozu found so far was completely legal, but the investigation Izuku chose to launch into these companies kept hitting dead ends every time their search came close to identifying the mysterious owners (or owner, as Izuku was starting to suspect was the case).

Mrs. Yaoyorozu was too busy to devote herself to the investigation full-time, so Momo was left in charge of it. She kept Izuku up-to-date with regular reports.

Izuku was glad to take a break from everything for dinner with his mother. Maybe he could punch his deadbeat father in the face while he was at it.

 

 

Dinner was awkward, and Hisashi Midoriya wasn’t even present.

Inko met Izuku at the door tearfully, and pulled him into a hug that lasted for several minutes. After disentangling himself, Izuku patted her back and asked about the presence of Bakugou and Hisashi. Inko told him the former had been sent home, and the latter was out for business.

“Hisashi says he wants to retire, though,” Inko said. She fidgeted. “He said he wants you to have his business.”

“He can talk to me himself.” Probably just trying to bribe his way into Izuku’s good graces. It wasn’t going to work, of course.

“I thought you’d say that,” she sighed. “He really is busy, though.”

“Busy enough to not come home for, what, fifteen years?” Izuku snapped.

Inko looked ready to cry. It was unfair of Izuku to take this out on her. But even if he didn’t know Hisashi personally, he knew that no one who actually cared would stay away from their family that long, and Izuku needed to make sure she wouldn’t let herself be hurt again.

He led her to a couch and gently helped her sit, nearly tripping over a basket of yarn in the process. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Inko doing handiwork. “Mom, I’m sorry, but he was gone. I’m not going to let him… buy his way back into the family, and I don’t want you to be hurt when he disappears again.”

She shook her head. “Izuku, you don’t know him.”

“I know what he did.”

“But you don’t know him.” She sniffled. “He explained a lot of things to me about why he was gone, and… I know he left, honey, and that wasn’t fair to you, but he’s still every bit the man I married.”

“But he left.” Izuku felt lost. Wasn’t she mad at Hisashi for leaving? “What was so important that he had to be gone so long?”

“He should tell you himself. But the business - that doesn’t have anything to do with you accepting him or not. Izuku, he and I both know you… don’t think of him as a father. You don’t have to. But he’s offering what he has to you - to his son, our son - and I’d like for you to accept. You can sell it, or Hisashi set it up to run without close oversight from the owner, but it’ll be yours. If nothing else, we won’t have to be financially dependent on him any more. I know you probably don’t need to worry about money right now, honey, but I know you don’t want to stay in the government and heroes… well...”

Tended to retire early. Had an unstable profession at the best of times, never mind right now. Might lose their status and a significant portion of their funding soon, due to the rigorous reforms spearheaded by the Todoroki brothers. Izuku wasn’t sure how Inko meant to finish that sentence, but he saw her point about wanting financial stability without Hisashi Midoriya. “If you’d started with that, I might’ve been more interested. Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Lovely!” Inko beamed, and Izuku would never have guessed that she’d been close to tears a minute ago. She got up and handed him a legal-sized envelope of papers with a contract placed on top of it, along with a pen. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.” She winked and bustled off toward the kitchen.

Izuku scanned the contract. It was straightforward enough. The envelope slipped out of his suddenly loose fingers and slid to the floor. “Mom!” he yelled. “Did you know that Hisashi’s leaving all his legal assets to me?”

“Yes, honey!”

Izuku blinked down at the paper, and after scanning it one more time, decided that Izuku had far more legal loopholes to make use of in this than Hisashi did. He went to join Inko in the kitchen.

“Did he leave anything for you before this?”

“A retirement fund and this building,” Inko said placidly. “I asked him to give everything else to you.”

“... He owned the apartment building? I thought we were renting.”

“He bought it when he came back and found out we lived here. The first thing he did was sign it over to me.”

“How rich is Hisashi?” Rich enough to just… buy an apartment building as a peace offering. These were nice apartments, they didn’t come cheap. Wouldn’t the rent from the other tenants alone be enough to make Inko financially independent?

“Oh, Izuku, you didn’t think he was always away for some small business, do you?”

Izuku shook his head to clear it. “But all legal assets. He does realize that if I sign this he wouldn’t even own the clothes on his back, right? He didn’t add an addendum for personal belongings or anything. This is everything.”

“Yes.” She turned away from the stove to face him, a pot held between oven mitts. “Izuku, that’s the sort of person your father is. He’s never done anything by halves, especially when it comes to family.”

Izuku waved the sheet of paper. “This isn’t halves. I can’t accept this. Maybe he left but I can’t accept his entire life just because he… he what. I’m his son? He left!” Hisashi Midoriya was supposed to be a power-hungry mooch, not… not someone who just handed over everything just because Izuku was his son. That wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

Inko put the pot down. “You don’t understand what it is to be a parent, sweetie. You may not consider him your father, but you’re his son.”

“He can’t even be here to tell me himself.”

Inko shrugged. “We knew you wouldn’t take this well from him.”

Izuku couldn’t argue with that.

The conversation over a truly delicious dinner was stilted, and Izuku felt sorry that the little time he had with his mother was ruined by the contract that lay at the end of the table away from Izuku. The man might be back, but he was still ruining everything with his absence.

“I can’t sign this,” he said. “I can’t be responsible for his entire life. Tell him to keep some personal belongings and some retirement money for himself.”

“Alright, honey,” Inko said.

The rest of the evening shouldn’t be spent in the shadow of Hisashi Midoriya. Surely they could find something else worth talking about. Maybe the yarn Izuku had nearly tripped over. “Mom, did you decide to take up knitting?”

“Oh no. I guess you saw the yarn in the living room? That’s your father’s. He said he’d like to try his hand at crochet, he thinks it’s relaxing.”

Well, he’d tried.

 

 

The following Monday Gigantomachia handed Izuku a contract to sign, supposedly sent directly from Hisashi Midoriya, along with a familiar envelope. Gigantomachia seemed strangely interested in the man’s signature. Izuku wondered if he should be concerned, since Gigantomachia tended to sort through Izuku’s paperwork with a stoic concentration.

Everything was in order. Hisashi had made provisions for personal belongings and a generous retirement fund he’d set up for himself. He’d left everything else to Izuku. That was fine. It was enough that Izuku wouldn’t have to decide how much to give back to the man to keep him from mooching off of Inko’s retirement fund. Izuku signed the paper, put it in a pile with some others, and left dealing with his new assets for later, whatever those were. They were probably listed in the envelope. If not, Izuku would need to find a lawyer to track down Hisashi Midoriya’s legal assets.

That could wait, though. Izuku hadn’t wanted anything of Hisashi Midoriya’s in the first place, and even if whatever business Izuku now owned was falling apart, it was a lesser problem than Japan falling apart. Which was why he put Hisashi Midoriya and his strange idea of family in the back of his mind, which was bulging at the seams at this point, and returned to trying to coordinate the reformation of an entire country.

Maybe if Momo had a break from her investigation, she’d feel like helping Izuku look it over.

Notes:

Yeah, I'm not trying to be subtle about where parts of this are going.

This chapter and the next one turned out a bit more exposition-y than I wanted, but it gets better, I promise!

As always, thank you for the comments, kudos and bookmarks. Especially the comments, which I spend an absurd amount of time grinning at.

Chapter 5: Great Conversations

Notes:

Warning: The beginning of this chapter contains vague descriptions of a mild panic attack. If this is a problem for you, skip from when Momo leaves to "Young Midoriya! Are you alright?"

“This is ridiculous.”
“What is ridiculous, Young Midoriya?”
“Everyone in the country is trying to talk to me right now, and Hisashi Midoriya won’t pick up his phone. I guess it’s not a surprise, it’s not like he ever has before.”
“I’m sorry, my boy. I know it must be difficult to be so distant from a family member.”
“It’s not, really. You’re more of a father to me than he ever was.”
“I - I’m so honored, my boy.”
“Yagi-san, are you crying?”

 

 

Izuku had definitely fallen into some alternate reality where nothing made sense.

That had to be it. There was no other explanation for this.

“Mom said he owned a business,” Izuku gasped faintly.

“She… wasn’t wrong,” Momo responded, looking and sounding like her soul had left her body and retired to some deserted island. Anything to escape reality. She made a visible effort to pull herself together. “I’ll check the regulations involved, but this is a potential solution to our investigation.” She flipped through the papers. “You should appoint someone to manage your assets; my family can recommend some lawyers. Your father might have better recommendations than ourselves if all of this is completely aboveboard. I’ve been unable to find anything obviously against regulations in my initial assessment, though skirting anti-monopoly laws falls in a grey area.”

No, that couldn’t be right. “This has to be illegal.” There was no sensible universe in which Hisashi Midoriya had legally owned essentially half of Japan’s corporations, spanning most of Japan’s industries, and then gave all of them away to Izuku. Who was currently dictator of Japan. Izuku didn’t want to own Japan, he really didn’t. It seemed that All for One and Hisashi Midoriya didn’t care if he wanted to or not.

“Even if it’s illegal, selling even a quarter of these, as would be the minimum necessary to break the monopolies, would crash the economy.”

“Why do these things keep happening to me.”

Momo eyed where Izuku’s head thumped against the desk under the weight of the nonsense he had to deal with, then stood. “I’ll investigate these and let you know the results when I find them. I’ll also send you a list of lawyers who can help you organize your holdings, and you can sell them a few at a time if you’d like. Don’t worry too much, Supreme Overlord Midoriya, we’re here to help.” She nodded determinedly.

“Not you too,” he groaned.

“Oh, sorry, Supreme - Midoriya! Everyone else keeps using it and I -”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said to the desk.

She left. Izuku contemplated the sweet embrace of death. At least the usual chatterers weren’t here to watch Izuku’s demise by way of stress, and Gigantomachia was running an errand to Internal Affairs.

The door opened and Izuku heard familiar footsteps. Never mind, Gigantomachia was back.

“Supreme Overlord! Are you hurt? Was there an attack?”

Maybe. He was having a hard time breathing. But mostly he just wanted Gigantomachia to go away. If Izuku ignored him, maybe he would.

“Little Master?” he thought he heard mumbled through the roaring in his ears. Something about that sounded important. Not important enough to deal with now, though.

It worked; the door closed and Izuku was left in blessed silence. For a few minutes, he let his breathing slow and heart rate calm, before the door opened again and Yagi was at his side.

“Young Midoriya! Are you alright?”

“No,” Izuku said.

“Can I help?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. Just… I know you’re busy, Yagi-san, but can you stay here? For a few minutes?”

“Whatever you need, my boy.”

Arms lifted Izuku out of the desk chair and brought him over to the sofa. Izuku’s fingers clenched in Yagi’s shirt and didn’t let go, and Yagi wrapped an arm around his shoulders, grounding him. Izuku hadn’t felt so lost since his mother clung to him crying when he was four, apologizing because he didn’t have a quirk. He could feel the same tear tracks against his face just like then -

Oh. Those were his own tears. He was crying.

A familiar hand rubbed his back until the tears slowed to quiet hiccoughs and a tissue box was pressed into his free hand.

“What’s wrong, my boy?”

“People keep trying to give me Japan.”

“Uh… what?”

Izuku blew his nose and tried again. “Hisashi Midoriya signed over his legal assets to me, which includes a disturbingly high percentage of Japan’s corporations spanning most of its industries. Probably close to 50%, from Momo Yaoyorozu’s initial estimate.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“And that brought… this on?” Yagi gestured to Izuku, who finally remembered to loosen his hand from Yagi’s shirt.

“I’ve been barely holding Japan together, and now…”

“Ah. Well, if it’s any comfort, Young Midoriya, I can think of no other person I’d choose to handle such responsibilities.” Yagi rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “I gave you my quirk because I knew you could handle the power and the burdens that came with it. It wouldn’t surprise me if others see the same thing in you that I saw - a desire to help people with everything you’re given, without losing sight of that goal.”

“I can’t imagine that’s why All for One gave me Japan.” That was more likely to be a sudden act of insanity than a product of belief in Izuku’s goodness.

“Neither can I,” Yagi said, “but whatever reasons he had, I’m glad you’re the one he chose. Just remember you’re not alone, my boy.”

That helped some, but… “What if it’s not enough?”

Yagi paused. “You do what you can with what you have, and then a little more. Plus Ultra,” he said finally.

Izuku managed a wobbly smile. “Plus Ultra.” He pushed himself up. “Well, I'd better get back to work, then.”

 

 

The businesses were entirely legal. As was Izuku’s ownership of them.

Additionally, Hisashi Midoriya was the missing link between the businesses that had been preternaturally prepared for All for One’s takeover and the resulting chaos, as well as most of the businesses with the strict anti-quirk-discrimination policies. Momo discovered a few more businesses that fit both categories from the list of Izuku’s new holdings.

One more common factor quickly became obvious: it was impossible to trace when many of these businesses came into Hisashi’s hands. Trying to track the document trail of previous ownership was how Izuku and Momo discovered a fire that had swept several government vaults twenty years ago, along with a very aggressive virus in the government’s computer system at the same time, destroying hundreds of records in the process. The government had covered it up, the lost records and documents adding more nails to the previous government’s coffin and to Izuku’s headache.

Hisashi Midoriya was unlikely to be the source of the anti-discrimination policies. Many of the businesses that had been in existence for a century or more had such policies extending back almost as far. If he wasn’t the source, though, he had certainly ensured that the recent startups had adopted those policies immediately, and updated the policies to account for modern changes in regulations. The more alarming part was that Hisashi - or his businesses - had some forewarning of the crisis that had rocked Japan, and Izuku needed to know how he knew. He would also appreciate knowing how Hisashi hid the fact that he was the richest man in Japan - possibly in the world - from just about everyone.

Then there was the fact that All for One had given Izuku Japan, and then in rolled Hisashi effectively doing something similar. Izuku recalled the business advice so helpfully included in All for One’s database. There were too many linking factors to let this be a coincidence. Izuku really hoped this was behind-the-scenes manipulation by All for One, and that he was not about to find out that his father was working for a supervillain.

As much as Izuku didn’t want to, he needed to talk to Hisashi.

Getting ahold of the man was the difficult part. Izuku got his phone number from Inko, but he never picked up when Izuku rang. He didn’t respond to emails. Izuku was contemplating telling Bakugou to drag the man to the National Diet building by force at this point.

He complained to Yagi, which turned into another crying session when Izuku made an offhand comment about how Yagi was a better father figure than the very absent Hisashi Midoriya.

“I would never want to presume, Young Midoriya,” Yagi said once his tears stopped. “Nor is it right for me to take you away from your real family. But I would call any parent lucky to have such a son.”

“It’s not taking me away if he was never there,” Izuku muttered sullenly. “But that’s not how it works, Yagi-san. You’re family now, too, whether you like it or not.” He was. Even before Izuku brought him to his and his mother’s home to hide from All for One’s rampaging; even before Izuku had gone from thinking of him as All Might to thinking of him as Yagi, his mentor and the kindly, awkward man so much quieter and more fragile compared to All Might. In a way, they’d been family since All Might chose Izuku to inherit his quirk and One for All bonded them together in purpose and strength, but that had solidified through the years with Yagi’s mentorship and trust.

Izuku wasn’t sure what a father was supposed to be like, but he thought it was probably something like the quiet support and strength and care as Yagi helped raise him from a skinny, awkward child to the hero he was now.

“Don’t make me cry again, my boy. You do that enough for both of us.”

Izuku gave a watery smile.

 

 

Izuku was ready to stake out his own house when he finally received an email reply from Hisashi Midoriya. It gave him a set of times that he’d be available for a chat, on the condition that it was completely private. Izuku picked the first available time slot and sent back a terse agreement. After some deliberation, Izuku chose to meet the man at the Tokyo Imperial Palace. For the moment, it was closed - but the National Diet Building was overflowing with people and the Imperial Palace was currently disused, except for a few guards Izuku had sent over to keep looters out of the place. As an afterthought, he asked the janitorial crew to clean a room and the areas leading to it for the appointment. There was some groaning, but no actual arguments.

He didn’t really have memories of the man. He had some indistinct recollections, but Izuku wasn’t sure if they were genuine or simply a product of childish imaginings about what his father would be like. Hisashi left when he was nearly four, and hadn’t been home since.

Izuku found himself increasingly nervous as the time drew near. His anxiety ramped up when he reached the building and found that the janitorial crew had chosen the same room as All for One did for tea and the fateful discussion so many weeks ago.

“Why this room?” Izuku asked when Kaminari escorted him to the room. It was a big palace; there were plenty of better rooms.

“It was already the cleanest, and it’s got a great view of the gardens. Why, is there a problem with it?” Kaminari peered around worriedly.

“No, this is fine.”

“Are you sure you don’t want someone with you, man?”

“Don’t you start, too, I barely convinced Gigantomachia to wait in the garden.” Izuku was used to his massive shadow by now, enough to forget the former villain was lurking nearby sometimes, but something about Hisashi’s request for privacy made him take it seriously.

“Call if you need us.”

“I will.”

Kaminari left. Izuku took a deep breath, let it out, and anxiously straightened his vest. He was about to meet the elusive Hisashi Midoriya, his own father, and he had no clue what to expect.

Izuku ended up meeting Hisashi at the gate rather than trying to direct the man to the room by email. It wouldn’t do for him to get lost in the Imperial Palace trying to find the right place.

Hisashi Midoriya was surprisingly… normal. Short white curly hair, plain looking, broad-shouldered but not overly so. He looked younger than Izuku thought he should, though perhaps he just had one of those faces that was almost ageless. The business suit he wore was equally normal, tie neatly knotted at his throat - wait, no, Izuku realized after another glance, that was a clip-on tie. Hisashi’s most notable feature was his height. He was almost as tall as Yagi in his old muscled form. Izuku found himself wishing he’d inherited his father’s height rather than his mother’s.

After briefly staring at each other - Izuku still wasn’t quite sure what to say, and apparently neither was Hisashi - they shook hands. Izuku could easily imagine that it was a simple business meeting rather than a meeting between estranged father and son.

Izuku invited Hisashi to follow him, but there were no other words spoken until they were seated in comfortable chairs with cups of tea Izuku poured. Hisashi made no effort to speak, though Izuku caught the frequent glances in his direction, bordering on open staring.

“So, Hisashi,” Izuku began. “What have you been up to all these years? From looking at your assets I doubt you were overseas the entire time.”

Hisashi grimaced and took a long sip of tea in lieu of answering immediately. When he put the cup down, it was still almost full. Such an obvious stalling tactic. “I suppose it would be pointless to lie about it. I’m afraid that one thing led to another and, well, I ended up staying away for much too long.”

“Fifteen years.”

The man seemed to shrink into the chair. “I suppose so.”

The silence hung in the room, an almost visible weight pressing in on Izuku.

“And now you’re back. No apologies, no explanations. You don’t just disappear for most of my life, come waltzing back, and brush it off with ‘one thing led to another.’ You left Mom alone and I want to know why.”

“I can’t imagine that’s why you invited me here.”

“Maybe not, but since you’re here, I’m asking.”

Hisashi hesitated, then nodded. He set his teacup down carefully, then straightened in the chair, finally meeting Izuku’s eyes.

“It’s a rather long story, and I’m sure you want to discuss other things in this meeting, so I’ll keep it short. I’ve spent most of my life building my assets - some falling into my hands by sheer coincidence, some because I saw an opportunity and bought them, some due to various other circumstances. I’ve tried to keep them private for various reasons, the foremost being that someone with this much wealth is certain to accrue enemies when it is known. By the time certain dangerous parties became aware of a portion of my holdings it was much too late. I suppose I could’ve dismantled everything piece-by-piece in order to avoid notice, but that was unlikely to help once the parties in question were already aware of my presence and activities, even if it wouldn't be horribly detrimental to the economy to sell even a decent portion within a small span of time. Additionally, there was no guarantee that any new owners would take the same level of interest in… equal opportunity employment as myself.”

“The anti-discrimination policies.” There was something familiar about the way Hisashi spoke, this entire situation, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “Every business you own has them.”

“They’re a widespread practice at this point, but inconsistently so. I would risk far too many people’s livelihoods with such a careless change of ownership. To continue my story - before these dangerous parties became aware of my location, I met and married your mother. I had several delightful years, and then they unfortunately found my trail and started a dogged pursuit. I left in large part because I didn’t want you or your mother to become casualties of the malice directed at me. They caught up with me when you were eight.”

“That was All for One, wasn’t it,” Izuku said, piecing the puzzle together. “He probably wanted the profits of your businesses in order to run his criminal empire, since all those funds were conveniently gathered in one place. As well as all the other benefits of having so many of Japan’s industries under his control.”

Hisashi inclined his head. “Of course, with the injuries he received around that time, he wasn’t able to make full use of them afterward. I did finance his operations, and some of his people worked in my businesses for the past few years. In return, I knew of his plans for Japan and was able to prepare my businesses for his… future activities.”

Izuku would never let himself be used as a pawn like that - if nothing else, he’d have tried to get a message to the heroes regarding All for One’s whereabouts. “I suppose he threatened you?” he said, with a touch of coldness.

“He knew about my family. And do consider where all my wealth would’ve gone had I died. Everything was left to you and your mother.”

“Oh,” said Izuku in a small voice. And then All for One’s sole attention would have been on Izuku and Inko. At least this explained why All for One seemed to take an interest in Izuku beyond simply being the inheritor of One for All. Izuku was the son of his chief financier and a large part of All for One’s leverage. Izuku was worth investigating - and keeping alive.

“Yes, ‘oh’,” Hisashi replied firmly. “Some things simply aren’t worth risking.”

Izuku rallied. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re willing to paint a giant target on my back now. He might’ve disappeared, but he’s still around somewhere.”

“He’s made it clear that he’s done with my businesses,” Hisashi responded. “It seems that he has accomplished his goals with them. I would not have risked giving them to you if you were in any way endangered by his attention regarding the transfer of my assets. As for any other interested parties, you’re currently one of the most well-guarded men in Japan, as well as one of the most capable of taking them down yourself should they get close. I apologize for increasing your current burden, but now is your best chance to take control of my businesses in safety, while you’re surrounded by defenses and capable assistants.”

Izuku hated that Hisashi had a point, so he ignored it in favor of something else. “You must know All for One pretty well,” Izuku mused. “You sound really confident about how he thinks.”

Hisashi shrugged. “I know people. Even supervillains are human, when you look closely.”

“It’s hard to believe that when they kill and torture innocent people,” Izuku shot back, mostly out of reflex. This conversation gave him a lot to think about. He still wanted to be angry at Hisashi, but trying to keep All for One away from one’s family was an understandable reason to stay away.

“I’m sure it is. But that doesn’t mean they’re impossible to read, or that they don’t work like everyone else. They have goals, they have plans, they work to accomplish those. It’s almost never about being pure evil, though some may give a convincing illusion of it. All part of the mask.” Hisashi waved the hand not holding his teacup. “Supervillains almost always have a reason for acting as they do, and once you find that reason, they’re as much of an open book as any other person on the planet.”

“So do you know All for One’s goals?” Izuku leaned forward eagerly. Finally, a decent source of information. Strange how it was his own father, rather than the former League of Villains, who could offer the most helpful data on All for One's thought processes.

“Spite,” Hisashi said crisply. “He never liked the government or the heroes - I believe he has some personal reasons in that regard - and wanted to see both taken down. After All Might interfered with his operations, he transferred some of that attention to a more specific target.”

Ah, yes, Izuku still vividly remembered the series of visions in which he’d learned about All for One and his brother. He really shouldn’t be surprised that the man had carried a chip on his shoulder for several centuries afterward. It even explained why All for One had no use for Japan after he was through with his murder spree; he’d only been interested in the slaughter itself, not the aftermath. But it was strange; All for One had so much power and yet hadn’t tried ripping his way through the government until recently…

“He changed his strategies,” Izuku guessed. “Once All Might started interfering with his activities, he decided to take a more straightforward, violent approach. He got impatient. Before, he was probably trying to find a more subtle way to bring down the system he didn’t like.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“That makes sense.” Izuku nodded. “His notes show a tendency toward manipulation more than mass-murdering terror. I was wondering about that.”

Hisashi stared at him.

“What?” Izuku snapped, uncomfortable at the sudden sharp attention.

“One of my greatest regrets, Izuku, will always be not having the opportunity to get to know you better,” Hisashi said, transferring his gaze to the teacup.

“Er… thanks, I guess?” Izuku fidgeted with his own teacup.

“Of course. Anyway, now that I’ve explained what I’ve been up to for the past few years, I think you had some other reasons to request my presence?”

Izuku had so many things he still wanted to ask Hisashi Midoriya, like if he had an idea about why All for One had given Japan to Izuku specifically. Why All for One had created a database full of notes on running government and businesses, as if he’d anticipated Izuku’s need for them. Why Hisashi Midoriya still couldn’t pick up the damn phone, if he wasn’t worried about All for One’s attention any more.

But an idea was forming in his mind that was growing increasingly difficult to ignore. Izuku needed to ask a few more questions to confirm his theory.

“Who managed the legalities of your businesses?” Izuku asked, taking the opportunity to refill both of their teacups from a delicate teapot. “From what I’ve been hearing from my lawyers and the Department of Commerce, the fact that you’ve been able to legally own this many corporations while avoiding violations of anti-monopoly laws is pure brilliance. So is whatever method you’re using to hide your ownership. I’m assuming that your strategies have been modeled after whoever owned most of your businesses in the past - since many have impossible-to-trace ownership spanning decades - but regulations change over time and you’ve been able to react to those changes as needed.”

“I dabble in business law,” Hisashi said modestly.

Izuku’s mouth dropped open. “That was you?” He’d half-suspected, but the confirmation still came as a shock.

Hisashi smiled. “Surprised your old man has a brain cell or two?”

Yes, actually, but Izuku refrained from responding with that. “I don’t suppose that you’re also the one who revised the anti-discrimination policies based on the ammendments to the new regulations about a decade ago…”

“Suppose away, that was also my work. I’m rather proud of it, actually.”

Izuku had so many questions.

 

 

The resulting conversation let Izuku discover a number of things.

First, Hisashi Midoriya was brilliant. Izuku was no longer quite as surprised that the man had somehow amassed so much of Japan’s wealth under his direct control. He had a broad range of interests and knowledge spanning law, economics and psychology. He was also full of information on a variety of other fields - he’d troubled himself to learn about every single industry he owned a business in so he at least had a passing understanding of it.

Second, and more importantly, one of the man’s obvious passions was in quirk law. The anti-discrimination policies were merely the tip of the iceberg. Hisashi waxed lyrical when Izuku probed him for his thoughts on how he thought those laws should be implemented. Many of them were uncomfortably reflective of All for One’s own statements in his notes, but Izuku probably shouldn’t be surprised when his father spent several years in contact with the monster. They also reflected many of Izuku’s own thoughts, and that was also important.

Izuku found himself drawn into the conversation completely. He only noticed the time when Hisashi rose and flipped on a lamp. The sun had set while they were talking, and the light through the massive window overlooking the garden had completely faded. That brought him out of the ease he’d sunk into, and he remembered why he’d been testing Hisashi’s thoughts in the first place.

“You know,” Izuku said slowly, “you’re really not what I expected.”

“May I ask what you did expect?” Hisashi cocked his head curiously.

“I’m not sure,” Izuku said. “I don’t really know you, but I’ve conducted a lot of interviews over the past month and I know what I want to see in the government. Hisashi Midoriya, I never thought I’d be saying this, but I want you to work for me. I still haven’t found someone to help me with my quirk law reforms, and I haven’t met anyone yet who’d be quite so perfect for the job.”

Hisashi’s face went through a complicated series of emotions too quick for Izuku to read. “I want to retire.”

“So do I,” Izuku replied. From government work, at least. “You could still retire after the government reforms are done, I wouldn’t stop you. We have plenty of people who worked for All for One already, what’s one more?”

“That’s part of the problem, actually. There could be some who recognize me, depending on how close they were to All for One. None of them ever heard my name - not my real one, at least - but it’s not worth the risk. No, Izuku, I think it’s for the best that Hisashi Midoriya spends his retirement at home and away from villains.”

Izuku probably should have considered that his father might not want to see the people who worked for his blackmailer. He wondered, suddenly, if there was more to the threats than simply vague possibilities of endangering his family; if Hisashi Midoriya had suffered from the whims and cruelties of All for One in the decade he’d worked for him. Probably. Izuku should’ve thought of it before. Hisashi seemed so calm talking about working for All for One, like it was a mildly unpleasant partnership rather than being an unwilling hostage under the close eye of evil incarnate.

All for One had been so close all this time, even before Yagi found Izuku and chose him to carry One for All. All for One had torn apart Izuku’s family, had been a threat looming over them for most of Izuku’s childhood. Izuku’s anger at Hisashi Midoriya trembled and shattered, leaving behind a faint regret for things that could have been.

There was still too much distance between them, that couldn’t be erased yet. Yagi was still more of a father figure than Hisashi Midoriya had ever been. This was only one conversation, and who knows what sort of person Izuku would discover underneath the business tycoon. But Izuku wanted to find out.

“I understand,” Izuku said. “Then maybe just… a position as a private consultant? It’d give me an excuse to make time in my schedule so I can get to know my father.”

Hisashi’s smile was incandescent. “Well, I can’t say no to that,” he murmured.

 

 

Izuku nearly forgot to let Gigantomachia know he was done with his appointment, but the villain appeared shortly after Hisashi Midoriya said goodbye at the gate of the Imperial Palace. They returned to the National Diet Building by way of Shirakumo’s Warp Gate with Izuku in a daze. He shook himself out of it when he stepped into his office. There was far too much work left neglected thanks to Izuku’s talk with Hisashi taking so much time. He tried to focus on the endless amount of paperwork, but found his mind wandering to the conversation.

“Supreme Overlord, are you well?” Gigantomachia asked.

“Just thinking,” Izuku said absently. That reminded him. “Oh, I was going to ask you. About a week ago - did I hear you call me Little Master?”

Gigantomachia froze, and looked away. Izuku had quickly learned that Gigantomachia was a terrible liar where Izuku was concerned. “I misspoke.” Definitely a lie.

“Really?”

“I apologize. You are the Supreme Overlord. I used the wrong title.”

That sounded like the truth. Izuku narrowed his eyes at the villain, who continued to stare determinedly into a corner. Izuku knew he needed to press the issue, but in what direction?

Gigantomachia was saved from further questions when Kaminari bounced in, Jirou following him with an exasperated expression, and Izuku had to turn his attention to the questions about Izuku’s “old man” that Kaminari immediately started asking. They were quickly joined by a number of other former Class 1-A students. Most of the busybodies had finished with their work for the day and the appearance of Izuku’s unknown parental figure had invited a good amount of curiosity and gossip. Even Shouto put in a rare appearance - he was usually far too busy - with obvious concern for Izuku.

Izuku indulged them for a few minutes before threatening to kick them all out if they kept distracting him from his work. He needed to sleep sometime, and at this rate he’d be pulling another all-nighter. They quieted down but stayed, and Izuku felt himself relaxing surrounded by his trusted friends and the former supervillain shadow he’d picked up.

He still wanted to talk to Yagi about Hisashi Midoriya and his story, but that could wait. Yagi would be devastated to learn that All for One had split apart Izuku’s family. Izuku still had to occasionally remind his mentor that the misery wrought by All for One was the fault of the monster, rather than Yagi’s fault for not stopping him. Izuku would tell him later.

For now, he had work to do, as always.

Notes:

I'm looking forward to the next chapter. :)

Thank you to everyone who's left comments, kudos and bookmarks. You folks are the best!

Chapter 6: Great Publicity

Notes:

And now for something completely different.

Disclaimer: All usernames in this chapter, except for one that is used by permission, were made up by me and a few friends. No resemblance to anyone's actual username is intended.

MeTube

 

s.o. deku cries on the job!!!
30.9M views • 1 month ago

pikapika579
1.4M subscribers
Just a clip of what’s going on behind the scenes in the government rn. My man Deku is doing his best to fix things here but the stress gets to him sometimes. Shown after two all-nighters and an amount of coffee that should be illegal.

2,433,182 Comments

keyboardhero 1 month ago
fake. no one really cries that dramatically. and “someone please take japan off my hands” ??? like, you’re ruling the country, who complains about that
Hide replies

hug-me-fatgum 1 month ago
Gotta wonder what’s wrong with Japan if everyone just wants to hand it off to the next guy

409chickens 1 month ago
chill and enjoy the show. who cares if it’s fake, this is comedy gold

CoolMight9001 3 weeks ago
Did you see him in the UA Sports Festival four years ago? Dude cries like a waterfall. Thought it was his quirk till he started breaking his fingers.

CoolMight9001 3 weeks ago
Guys, have you seen pikapika579’s Instasnap account? I didn’t know someone could drink that much coffee and live. He’s making my studying for finals look like a tropical vacation. #LetSupremeOverlordDekuSleep
Hide replies

gunheadxsnipe 3 weeks ago
that account is a national treasure #LetSupremeOverlordDekuSleep

Eran76 2 weeks ago
How does he even get these? #LetSupremeOverlordDekuSleep

CoolMight9001 2 weeks ago
@Eran76 His profile says he’s a janitor at the National Diet building.

Eran76 2 weeks ago
@CoolMight9001 Thanks. I’m gonna check the site, maybe they need more janitors

 

 

Assassination Attempt On S.O. Foiled Spectacularly
20.3M views • 3 weeks ago

GoGoGadgeteer
502,968 subscribers
S.O. uses my totally awesome babies here! That’s me with the pink hair and the AMAZING goggles! You can get those and more at hatsumesbabies.co.jp, now that regulations allow nonviolent support items to be sold to the public!!! I also made the exploding watch but that’s not for sale. :(

23,825 Comments

WildWildCatMom 3 weeks ago
He set a man on fire.
I repeat. HE SET A MAN ON FIRE.
Show replies

CoolerMight9002 3 weeks ago
I don’t think he actually expected that watch to explode, he looks as surprised as the villain.
Hide replies

OldMan84 3 weeks ago
I don’t think he knew judging from the way he just screamed “HATSUME!!” when it happened

thegoldenshoe 2 weeks ago
Am I the only one who’s noticed that villain dude in the background knocking out three villains with his bare hands
Hide replies

rocklock_and_roll 2 weeks ago
Yeah, we were all too busy watching our Supreme Overlord kicking butt

ladyblack 2 weeks ago
he might be a villain but gigantomachia could rock my world anytime ;)

iAmHeRe 1 week ago
@ladyblack gross

 

 

Quirks in Public: The Do’s and Don’ts of Our New Freedoms
962.8k views • 1 month ago

LawsAndTruth
502k subscribers
To read the laws I’m talking about in their entirety, visit japan.go.jp/new/quirklaws.

38,207 Comments

Pinned by LawsAndTruth
LawsAndTruth 3 weeks ago
Holy shit I didn’t expect this to get so popular. I’m glad my analysis has helped so many people!
Hide replies

donttalktome 3 weeks ago
Great explanation, man, thanks. I wasn’t going to risk using my quirk until I saw this video.

SoManyKittens 2 weeks ago
thnx!

eraserbread 2 weeks ago
thank you! i didn’t know australia had laws like this, kudos to our s.o. for studying up on other countries!

scream-for-me-present-mic 1 month ago
I feel like I’m missing something, if it’s this simple then why weren’t we allowed to use our quirks before
Hide replies

MightyMan787878 1 month ago
Because the government was shit to begin with, it’s not like that was new information. Didn’t you get the memo?

---

 

Rumblr

 

tallyhohoho:
So, most of you know that I have a hobby of analyzing each year’s crop of UA graduates and their chances in the hero industry. In my personal ranking this year I put Deku at the top of my list as the most likely to reach the Number One spot, and I stand by my statement. Obviously, his hero career is now a topic of controversy due to his recent career change, but I think this supports my assessment rather than invalidating it.

First, Deku has made it clear in his recent press conference that he plans to return to being a hero. The obvious challenge most new heroes face when they start out is gaining popularity, thanks to the tough competition with older and more experienced pros. As I’ve said before, standing out has always been Deku’s weak point. He’s got the skill and the quirk for the job, but he’s a little too plain next to his fellow classmates, never mind the better-known names in the field. Well, everyone knows who he is now. He just has to remember to use that.

It’s not like he isn’t already capitalizing on the publicity. We’ve already seen those “inside leaks” of Deku fighting off assassins, as well as that utterly heartwarming one with him and the hero of our hearts, All Might. You know the one - where Deku puts All Might on a sofa and tucks a blanket around him? I’m not ashamed to admit I’ve rewatched it so many times. His PR has been steadily rising and as long as he follows through on his promises, it’s not stopping any time soon.

Which brings me to my second point. If he actually manages to fix the government’s shit? Deku will already be the Number One fucking hero, don’t tell me otherwise. I know he talks big game but I’ve been following his career since his first year at UA, and he’s always followed through when he publicly promises something. That’s a big reason why I put him at the top of my list. I’m telling you, Deku’s going to make things happen. We’ve all seen the list of reforms in progress on the news. If it works - and the success of legalizing public quirk use says it very well could - he might not even need to step down.

The only real problem is that he’s currently got villains working for him, but they seem pretty defanged from the videos we’ve been seeing. And after seeing all the stuff that the government’s been hiding, I for one am perfectly happy to have them where we can see them.

 

 

allthepuppers:

coolestmight9090:

bluetiger88:

mirkuisbestgirl:

theleftbox:
Am I the only one who thinks it’s weird that S.O. Izuku Midoriya is only two years older than me and dictator of an entire country

nope

Dude it’s weirder that our overlord is 3 years younger than me and dictator of Japan. Overachievers, man

Look at it this way: he’s not set in his ways like the idiots who let the country get as bad as it did. As long as he’s doing a good job, who cares about his age?

is that username a trend i haven’t heard about, or is it just a coincidence that i’ve seen like 30 different ‘coolmight9XXX’ accounts on different platforms recently

 

 

allmightforever:
11 Reasons We Love Supreme Overlord Deku (Part 6)

• He’s keeping so many coffee farmers in business
• Hero first, dictator second, who can argue with that?
• The government has never been so full of hotties, oh lord Red Riot’s abs I am weak.
• Secretary of State All Might (I know I keep saying it but best. decision. ever.)
• We can use our quirks in public now and we haven’t all died yet, it can only be the work of our lord and savior Supreme Overlord Deku.
• The government leaks are actually interesting now. Also less horrible.
• People keep forgetting that he was badass enough to try to fight All for One, otherwise known as holy-shit-no-Cthulhu, solo. You know, the one with a gazillion quirks who killed all those pro heroes in minutes? He looked upon humanity’s doom and said “fight me”. And got away with it.
• Not only did our S.O. get away with it, Cthulhu himself gave him Japan and retired because he could never live up to such greatness. Respect.
• Lbr, formal clothes look so much better on him than that green thing he has for a hero costume. I’d die for him in that little vest and dress shirt with the sleeves all rumpled.
• Did you know that a few villains are actually surrendering without a fight now? There was that one interview recently where that villain girl said that they were getting fair trials so they didn’t need to fight to the death. I bet that’ll save on insurance.
• Fluffy Hair™

 

 

gumdropped:
Unpopular opinion: I don’t get why everyone’s so obsessed with ‘S.O. Deku’. So what, we’ve got another government. Don’t get me wrong, he’s better than All for One, but that’s a pretty low bar. He’ll be just like all the other politicians who make promises they won’t keep once we stop paying attention to them. Hey, I’d love to be proved wrong, but that’s not how politicians work. The ‘I’m a hero stuff’ is obviously pandering to the masses. I’ll believe the whole thing about this being temporary when I actually see him step down.

 

---

 

The Heroes Tonight Show with Tatsuo Tanaka

 

Interview Transcript:

TT: We’ve got some special guests for you tonight. We’ve invited some people who can shed a unique light on Japan’s man of the hour, Supreme Overlord Izuku Midoriya, formerly known as the up-and-coming young hero, Deku. I’d like you all to welcome Mina Ashido and Eijirou Kirishima, also known as Alien Queen and Red Riot!
MA: Thanks for inviting us!
EK: Yeah, thank you!
TT: Thank you both for coming, we’re honored to have you. For those who don’t know, both Ashido and Kirishima attended UA and were part of the same graduating class as Supreme Overlord Midoriya. Why don’t you tell us what that was like?
EK: You’ve probably heard UA’s hero program is intense, and it really is. But Deku, he was intense right back. He’s always been the sort of guy who’d charge straight into danger to save people and we all know that. It’s not that he’s the only one, but… it’s really manly, you know?
MA: Yeah, he’s pretty intense, but that’s what’s so cool about him! He’s all nervous and shy but he’ll just focus and then nothing stops him.
TT: Pardon me, you said he’s shy?
MA: Not as much as he used to be, but yeah! It was fun when he turned all red and started stuttering. It took the longest time for him to stop stuttering at the interview training.
EK: Uh, Ashido, should we really be telling on him like this?
MA: It’ll be fine. The “Supreme Overlord” thing makes him sound so scary, and it’s important for heroes to be approachable. He can be scary when he needs to be - really scary - but he’s really nice too.
TT: You said ‘heroes’? So you really think he plans on going back to be a hero?
MA: Of course! He said it himself, didn’t he? There’s a lot of mess to clean up but we should have an ETA on finishing the law revisions within the next few weeks, and then we can announce elections. That’ll all take time, but I’m pretty sure he’d step down tomorrow if everything was finished tomorrow.
EK: I’m pretty sure it won’t be that long, he’s been pretty intense about getting the reforms done. He keeps pulling all-nighters, we’ve had to stop bringing him coffee a few times to get him to sleep.
TT: Ah, yes, I’ve heard there’s been a hashtag trending on Tweeter, “#LetSupremeOverlordDekuSleep”.
EK: I’m not sure who started it, but whoever it is gets it.
MA: I don’t think he’s gone home to sleep since the changeover.
EK: We keep telling him to sleep.
MA: He doesn’t.
EK: He does fall asleep at his desk sometimes.
MA: We’ve got a system where whoever catches him sleeping puts him on the sofa with a pillow and blanket. It’s usually Machia.
TT: By ‘Machia’, I assume you mean Gigantomachia, former bodyguard for the previous Supreme Overlord, All for One?
EK: Yeah, he’s a pretty solid dude.
MA: [groans]
EK: Well he is. As long as he’s helping out and behaving himself, why not? He helped make All for One’s mess, and now he’s helping clean it up.
MA: I still think it’s weird that the old League members want to help, but everyone who’s working in the government has to admit that things wouldn’t be going this great without them. They know what they’re doing and they’ve given us so much information for free.
TT: Why would Supreme Overlord Midoriya trust a villain as a bodyguard, though?
MA: Just call him S.O., it’s easier! I don’t think Deku trusts him, exactly.
EK: Deku said it’s easier to keep an eye on him if he’s close when I asked. Though Machia’s a great bodyguard. There haven’t been too many villain attacks but Deku usually doesn’t have time to respond before Machia gets to them, and Deku’s fast.
MA: He just knocks them out, too.
EK: He’s pretty manly for a former villain.
TT: A former villain, you say?
EK: Yeah, if they were still involved in villainous activities, Deku would just arrest them. I’ve heard him pretty much dare them to give him a reason, a few times.
TT: Workplace relations must be pretty tense.
MA: Not really! It was awkward at first and some of us are still a bit on edge, but we’ve got people trying to keep everyone calm. You’d know, wouldn’t you, Kirishima?
EK: Me? Nah, I just try to smooth things over where I can.
MA: He’s being modest, he’s been trying to party up with the people over in Internal Affairs who’ve been keeping feathers unruffled. Well, Shirakumo’s technically in Foreign Affairs, but he doesn’t have much to do yet.
TT: He might soon, if the rumors that the United Nations want to invite Japan to discuss the state of affairs are true.
MA: That’s a secret for now! But everyone will be hearing an announcement about that soon.
TT: Speaking of jobs, what do you two do in the government right now?
MA: I’m a PR representative, as you may have noticed. Every hero - or Supreme Overlord - needs a PR department!
EK: I’m… well, I’m part of the janitorial team. But it’s a bit more than that. We all wanted to help my man Deku when all this got dropped on him, but some of us didn’t really know where we’d fit. So our friend and former classmate Kaminari - you’ll know him as Chargebolt - came up with an idea. We keep things clean and look around the different departments, and if we find one we fit in we sign up for an internship. Ojirou, or Tailman, actually just transferred into the Department of Health. I don’t think all of us will transfer, though - it’s tough work but somebody’s got to take care of the place.
MA: You just don’t want to give up taking your breaks in Deku’s office.
EK: I’m admitting nothing.
TT: Some people are saying that… uh, the S.O. based his appointment decisions on nepotism.
MA: He’s the S.O., he can do what he wants! But seriously, we might’ve applied first but we had to pass the interviews the same as everyone else.
EK: You could probably call it nepotism, but I think it’s important to Deku that he has people he can trust helping him out. And I’d like to think he trusts us more than anyone. Class 1-A went through some pretty tough things together, and Deku knows we have his back and won’t take advantage of all the ways we could screw things over like the old government.
TT: Well, that about wraps up the time we have. Thanks again for coming, and best of luck to both of you, and also to the S.O. with his work.

 

---

 

Tweeter

 

Summerfall Winter @seasonssound
@eyescream Didn’t you say you went to middle school with S.O. Deku? What was he like, spill it!

that dude with the eyes @eyescream
@seasonsound no i didn’t

Summerfall Winter @seasonsound
@eyescream Oh come on you didn’t shut up about it when he won the UA Sports Festival. Both times.

that dude with the eyes @eyescream
@seasonsound look we weren’t very close, okay

Summerfall Winter @seasonsound
@eyescream Don’t you realize how famous you could be if you gave us some juicy details?

that dude with the eyes @eyescream
@seasonsound ill dm you just stop talking about it here

Mount Me Lady @mountmelady
@eyescream No fair, we want to hear the gossip too

I ❤ Supreme Overlord Deku @herofangirl105
@eyescream We all want to know

 

 

Explosion King @lordexplosionmurder
Fucking Deku is a dumbass and all you mouthbreathing doucheguzzlers who talk shit about him can fight me

I hear the sins of humanity @theultimateearbud
Did you just threaten to fight yourself

Explosion King @lordexplosionmurder
Fuck you

Explosion King @lordexplosionmurder
What I mean by that is I love our dear Supreme Overlord very much and would die for him but can’t admit it due to my fragile ego.

Explosion King @lordexplosionmurder
FUKCING ASSWIPE STOLE MY PHONE BRB GONNA MURDER DEKUS DAD

Another Hero Fan @bemyherobaby
I know this says verified. but. are we sure that this isn’t a troll account

 

 

Villain of Another Story @somecallmecrazy
“Fair and public trials” are all well and good but watching some of these makes me think it’s an excuse for public shaming (1/?)

Villain of Another Story @somecallmecrazy
There was one today where a guy was being tried for attacking some girl with projective empathy, people around her feel her emotions (2/?)

Villain of Another Story @somecallmecrazy
He tried to hit on her, she said go away, he kept bothering her, she got angry, then he was angry, he attacked her, she fought back (3/?)

Villain of Another Story @somecallmecrazy
So the police show up and she’s projecting emotions everywhere, can’t turn it off. Before, she’d probably be arrested (4/?)

Villain of Another Story @somecallmecrazy
Public use of quirks and all, it looks pretty cut-and-dry. But since it’s legal to use quirks in public now, the police ask questions (5/?)

Villain of Another Story @somecallmecrazy
They find out the dude struck first but was blaming the girl for using her quirk on him, smug bastard thinks he’s in the right (6/?)

Villain of Another Story @somecallmecrazy
Police notice they’re not automatically attacking the girl when she’s angry though. Call his BS, arrest him (7/?)

Villain of Another Story @somecallmecrazy
The trial was today. I’ve never seen a man so publicly destroyed. The jury started laughing at him halfway through his testimony (8/9)

Villain of Another Story @somecallmecrazy
Let this be a lesson to all, don’t expect to get away with this shit any more, the new quirk laws don’t fuck around (9/9)

Hug Me Death Arms @deatharmsdaddy
This is beautiful

 

---

 

Hero News Network

 

Trial of Dalma Ujiko To Be Held

The former doctor attending All for One was turned into the police early this morning by an unknown party, along with a file of evidence for his crimes. He was found unconscious in front of the police station in X District with an envelope placed on his chest containing the aforementioned evidence. The envelope was reportedly topped with a large bow and a tag claiming it was “For Supreme Overlord Izuku”.

The police have declined to make any statements aside from assuring the citizens of a fair and public trial for Ujiko, but one anonymous party claims that Ujiko has no memory of the assailant who brought him to the police. No one was caught on the security cameras, and the envelope yielded no fingerprints. We hope to verify these claims by the time of the trial.

For those who are unaware of Ujiko’s history, he is stated to have been in charge of the infamous Noumu Project in addition to being All for One’s personal physician. During All for One’s time as Supreme Overlord, he was infrequently seen but well-known as one of the core members of All for One’s cabinet. He disappeared at the same time as All for One, and this contributed to rumors that All for One was still active and planning further atrocities. “Dalma Ujiko” is assumed to be a fake name, though this is still unconfirmed.

Ujiko’s appearance now is curious for a number of reasons. Does All for One no longer require his services? Did someone find him and turn him in against All for One’s wishes? Could he be a lead on finding the elusive former Supreme Overlord? Whatever the case, barring unfortunate circumstances, Dalma Ujiko will be standing trial for numerous crimes including murder, grievous bodily harm, and practicing medicine without a license.

 

 

Public Calls for Memorial Commemorating Hero Sacrifices

As Japan commences rebuilding in the wake of former Supreme Overlord All for One’s iron-fisted rule, national attention has turned to the sacrifices of the heroes marked missing or killed in action during the crisis. Several online petitions are making the rounds demanding that the government honor their sacrifices, and the government is currently inundated with letters requesting official action.

Chief among the known pro heroes to die in action was the Number One hero at the time, the Flame Hero Endeavor. Pro hero Shouto, popularly known as Endeavor’s son, has been unavailable for comment at this time. Also among the confirmed deaths are the principal of UA, Nedzu, and the Number Seven Dragoon Hero Ryukyu. While public mourning of these losses in the hero community has been impossible until recently, many want to see them commemorated for their work.

Also of note are those who lost their quirks to All for One, including the Number Three Rabbit Hero Miruko and Eraserhead. The former’s whereabouts remain unknown, but the latter is currently the Minister of Internal Affairs, Shouta Aizawa. He has also remained unavailable for comment at this time.

Despite the lack of response from heroes themselves, many hope for a government response to these requests. To add your voice, letters may be directed to the address at the bottom of the page.

 

 

Supreme Overlord Izuku Midoriya To Visit The United Nations Headquarters

Thanks to recent events, the United Nations have been in talks about how to deal with Japan’s ongoing crisis. While their response has been slow, they have finally taken the initiative to invite Supreme Overlord Midoriya to visit New York City with the intent to discuss the UN response to Japan’s current affairs. This event will likely determine Japan’s future in foreign affairs as well as Supreme Overlord Midoriya’s own legitimacy as Japan’s head of state in the eyes of the world.

It is anticipated that Supreme Overlord Midoriya will be absent for a week, though the exact time of departure has been withheld due to recent assassination attempts. A press release states that Secretary of State Toshinori Yagi will fulfill the Supreme Overlord’s duties in his absence. Hizashi Yamada, head of PR, states, “Everything is under control. Yagi knows what he’s doing. He can’t exactly replace our S.O., but there’s nobody better at holding down the fort and going beyond.”

Supreme Overlord Midoriya will be bringing a delegation consisting of former villain Gigantomachia, former pro hero Eijirou Kirishima, and other currently undisclosed parties. While this is a small delegation, Yamada claims that the majority of those who would be capable representatives are currently enmeshed in government responsibilities. Though he is visiting the UN Headquarters in person, Supreme Overlord Midoriya has reportedly chosen to prioritize internal affairs over foreign ones at this time.

A recent poll published in Hero Times shows that 65% of respondents plan to listen to Supreme Overlord Midoriya’s public UN address live, an overwhelming number considering the time zone difference. Analysts say this is likely due to the lack of public appearances by the Supreme Overlord himself as well as the importance of the occasion. With so many eyes on him, this address is certain to be remembered.

 

---

 

“Thanks for coming with me.” Izuku smiled at Hisashi. “I’m sorry, I know it was short notice.”

“Any time,” Hisashi said, shooting a strange glance past Izuku. Izuku couldn’t see where Gigantomachia stood, but he had the distinct feeling that the villain had tensed behind him.

“I’ve been to I-Island, but this will be my first time on foreign soil. I was hoping you’d help me brush up on my knowledge of nations I should be interested in while we’re en route? And English, I suppose.”

“Me too, if you don’t mind, sir,” Kirishima chimed in.

“Certainly.” Hisashi gestured toward the waiting plane. “Shall we, then?”

Notes:

I had way too much fun with this chapter. Except for the formatting, which was a pain in the neck, but I'm pretty proud of the results. Originally I had no intentions of doing a social media chapter, but I was a few thousand words into the first draft of chapter 6, and hating life due to all the Dry Political Exposition. Then I realized that I could do this, and so I did this. We'll be back to politics with the next chapter!

Shout out to DancingInTheStorm for reccing my fic! It made my week. If you like Dad For One and the BNHA government being problematic, "Sunshine in the shadows" might be your jam; and I very much appreciated someone going after corruption with extreme prejudice in "those hardest to love need it most". ;)

As always, thank you to everyone who leaves comments and kudos and bookmarks, which I've been squealing over to my mother. Yes, my mother knows I write fanfiction sometimes, and listens to me being excited that people like it.

Chapter 7: Great Accusations

“How are things in America, Young Midoriya?”
“Everything’s fine, Yagi-san.”
“Nervous?”
“Tremendously. But better than I thought I’d be.”
“You’ll do fine, my boy. You know what you want to say to the world, so stand tall and say it.”
“Show the world that I am here?”
“Exactly.”

 

 

Izuku couldn’t stop the butterflies in his stomach as the plane touched down.

“This is awesome!” a sparkly-eyed Kirishima exclaimed from beside Izuku. Sure, he could be excited. Kirishima wasn’t going to be standing in front of the United Nations tomorrow, being scrutinized by the entire world. “You’re going to do great, man.”

Gigantomachia had been silent for the entire journey, but Izuku saw him nod emphatically in the corner of Izuku’s eye.

“You have everything you need, and us at your back.” A warm hand lightly brushed against Izuku’s shoulder. He looked up to meet Hisashi Midoriya’s eyes. Over the past weeks, his father had turned into an advisor of sorts. Izuku frequently called him for advice and information, as the man had a wealth of useful trivia on all sorts of subjects and had started actually picking up his phone. Izuku only decided to bring Hisashi along at the last minute after the man’s third enthusiastic rant on what countries’ policies deserved the closest attention. With the majority of Izuku’s most capable trusted associates tied up in government business, Izuku was short on competent advisors and Hisashi was relatively free. He’d picked Kirishima and Gigantomachia for similar reasons.

Besides, Inko needed a break from Hisashi and Bakugou’s catfights, and Hisashi was the less likely of the two to cause a diplomatic incident.

Izuku closed his eyes, took a deep breath, opened them, and started walking. The group followed. “It doesn’t matter whether I’m ready, this is happening.”

Hisashi hummed. “If you don’t feel prepared, perhaps it would help to go over the sorts of accusations that may be leveled at you, and the possible responses. I’m sure you’ve done it already, but I can offer my own assistance.”

“That would help, actually.” Izuku nodded.

Kirishima pumped his fist. “You’re our Deku, so there’s nothing to worry about! The UN won’t know what hit them.”

Izuku managed a wobbly smile.

The smile changed into a real one on the way to the hotel. Izuku couldn’t help but press his face to the window and drink in the sights. The tall buildings, the English lettering everywhere - the atmosphere was so different and yet similar to Tokyo’s busy streets. Maybe if he was lucky, he’d even see American heroes at work. Problematic as the American hero system that Japan had adopted was, this was the birthplace of heroes.

Izuku always loved heroes, and that would never really change.

The streets remained peaceful and absent of noticeable hero costumes and gear, and Izuku’s party checked into the hotel with minimal fuss. Izuku had never seen such massive suites in his life; he supposed most heads of state were used to extravagant lodgings. After the hotel’s porter tucked away Izuku’s luggage, Izuku flopped back onto the king-sized bed and waited for Hisashi to join him.

Hisashi did so after about thirty minutes. Izuku felt a sudden flash of awkwardness when he greeted his father at the door. They’d talked on the phone, and then on the long plane ride to America, but this was the first time they’d spoken alone and in person since that first meeting at the Tokyo Imperial Palace.

Izuku hadn’t even decided on what to call him yet. “Hisashi” was too impersonal, like he was rejecting the man’s relation to him altogether. “Father” was too formal. “Dad” - he wasn’t really ready to call Hisashi that yet. It was too foreign of a word, and the face it brought to mind wasn’t Hisashi’s.

Hisashi didn’t seem to share Izuku’s awkwardness. He swept in past Izuku, taking in the room with a nod.

“It will do. Now, Izuku, there’s not much time to prepare. So let’s start.” He pulled out the desk chair and sat. “The most obvious point of weakness is your legitimacy as a head of state. It’s bothersome, but you’re the named successor of a widely-feared villain who led a very bloody coup. In Japan, also being the declared successor of All Might gives your reputation some weight, but here it will be more difficult to defend with that alone. I assume you have counters?”

Izuku nodded, and his brain snapped into business mode. “Of course. With Japan currently in a state of emergency, I have established an interim government in order to stabilize the nation and -”

Hisashi clicked his tongue. “Oh no, no, no. A large part of your current platform is reestablishing the Constitution after centuries of governmental abuse of emergency powers. That won’t do at all. Even if the UN buys it, this assembly will be broadcast in Japan, and it will undercut the current goodwill you’ve earned.”

“Well, a dictator certainly isn’t constitutional.”

“That doesn’t matter. You are a leader acknowledged by your people, with massive public support. It’s not the UN’s decision whether you’re the rightful leader of Japan or not; the relevant parties have already made that decision.”

“Isn’t that the opposite of what we’ve all been saying?”

Hisashi stood, and started pacing in front of the window, the afternoon sun slanting through the blinds and throwing Hisashi’s shadow across the room. Izuku was hit with a sense of deja vu. “You are the rightful leader, and it’s not your job to convince anyone. It’s your job to tell them. You already had the audacity to include a villain, former or not, as part of your retinue. This won’t work unless you walk in and assert your right to be there. Unless you own your power and decisions and declare them to the world, with the authority of someone who knows the righteousness of their position.” Hisashi’s gaze turned sharp, and he came to a stop in front of Izuku. “I hope you’re not telling me that you didn’t know bringing Gigantomachia was a statement in itself.”

Izuku massaged his temple. He couldn’t tell if the headache was from jet lag or thinking so hard. “But don’t I need to defend my decisions?”

Hisashi patted his head. “This is why you’ll never be a real politician. Politics are not a game of logic, Izuku. They’re a game of confidence, or to put it more crassly, a popularity contest mostly played by idiots. You know the saying where you don’t argue with idiots? The downfall of many intelligent contestants is that they get caught in the logic and forget to participate in the childish dick-measuring that determines the true winner.”

Izuku winced, and then thought. “So you’re saying it’s more important to be the most confident person in the room than to have the best logical defense.”

Hisashi’s grin was shark-like. “You’re a quick study. Good. With that in mind, how would you defend your legitimacy?”

Izuku didn’t answer immediately. He fell backward onto the bed, stared at the ceiling, and then groaned. “I’m going to have to rewrite my whole speech, aren’t I.”

 

 

Hisashi was a difficult taskmaster. He nitpicked, he questioned, he openly criticized Izuku’s every statement. Izuku finished the afternoon feeling as though everything he’d said had been viciously torn to shreds. It was a lot to deal with on top of the jet lag. He’d swear Hisashi enjoyed the mental torture he was inflicting. When the crash course in political maneuvering was over, Izuku was ready to crash himself, and he still needed to rewrite his speech.

At least he felt more prepared than he’d been since the request arrived for his presence at the United Nations Headquarters. That thought made Izuku almost forgive the man when Hisashi patted his head again and took the liberty of ordering room service for both of them.

Hisashi left after dinner. Izuku checked the time and decided that Yagi had likely woken up, so he called Japan. At least the astronomical amount Izuku was earning from Hisashi’s businesses would easily cover any roaming charges, he thought wryly.

Yagi asked about America and offered a few words of encouragement. Izuku asked how everything was in Japan.

“Everything’s fine, Young Midoriya. Though there was a minor… surprise.”

“Oh?” Izuku asked.

“Shirakumo and… Shimura approached Aizawa,” Yagi said. He still couldn’t say Tenko Shimura’s name without being awkward about it. “They said they’ve been researching the whereabouts of All for One since he disappeared, but haven’t turned up anything. However, they passed the information they’ve found to the Intelligence Department.”

Why did they have to pull something like this now, of all times? “How much of that information was obtained legally?”

“All of it.”

“And did they explain why I had to be out of the country before they coughed their info up?”

“They didn’t say, but I think they were afraid of being arrested for their side activities, and stood a better chance if you were forced to wait for your return to decide their fate.”

Izuku sighed. “I don’t have to be there to have them arrested. But as long as they’re passing the information they find to Intelligence, and they’re not doing anything illegal to get it, then it’s not really a problem to worry about now.”

“Of course. You sound tired, my boy. Get some sleep.”

Izuku wasn’t quite ready to let go of the sound of Yagi’s soothing voice, but he really was tired. “Alright. Thanks, Dad.”

Izuku didn’t realize what he’d said until he hung up the phone. He froze, curling into a ball in mortification, then figured that he’d deal with that later. The bed was comfortable and he was asleep almost as soon as he hit the pillow.

 

 

Izuku grasped the paper which he’d scribbled a new speech on that morning in his pocket and tried to hold a confident expression. He’d even had Hisashi check it, and Hisashi approved it. He was as ready as he’d ever be.

Izuku didn’t feel ready at all.

“On behalf of the General Assembly, I have the honor to welcome to the United Nations His Excellency Izuku Midoriya, Supreme Overlord of Japan, and invite him to address the assembly,” droned the President of the Assembly.

The room was completely silent as Izuku approached the podium on wobbly legs. The representatives of nations were staring at him. Izuku almost felt a physical weight on his chest, even worse than when he'd received the 10,000,000-point bounty in the first-year sports festival cavalry battle. Kirishima grinned at him from where he sat. Gigantomachia nodded solidly. Hisashi chose not to come, claiming he would rather not appear on camera, but Izuku knew he was watching in his hotel room. Japan was watching, and so was the rest of the world.

Show them you are here. Izuku’s expression firmed and he grasped the podium. And, like Hisashi said last night, the best defense is a good offense.

“People of the world, it is my honor to be here today on behalf of the glorious nation of Japan. Nine months ago, a crisis swept our nation when the villain All for One brutally murdered his way to power and forcibly declared himself a dictator. Some of our best and brightest were killed in action, or lost their quirks, or are still missing even now. Even in such chaos Japan ensured that all ambassadors and embassy personnel, as well as any foreigners visiting Japan at the time, returned home safely.” Izuku would know; he’d helped with some of the extractions himself, along with the rest of the former Class 1-A.

“Then Japan was left abandoned by the world, left to its fate as public order fell apart and villains ran rampant. As All for One defended his regime with blood and death, as he stole whatever quirks amused him and his minions ran loose in the streets. Make no mistake, we do not blame other nations for their fear, for not wanting to sacrifice their people and resources to assist us in our time of need when no victory would be assured by such aid. However, the fact remains that we dealt with our problems on our own - and in the end, it wasn’t some superhuman feat of strength that ended All for One’s reign. It was All for One himself choosing to conditionally give away his power, for whatever reason, to myself.”

There was some uncomfortable shifting in the seats. Izuku hated playing this game, but if this was what it took to defend Japan’s place among the nations, he’d do it.

“In the invitation I received, I was informed that my right to speak on Japan’s behalf was in question, and this meeting would decide the United Nations’ stance on that topic. But I do not stand before you today to convince the United Nations that my leadership is rightful. That has already been decided by the people themselves. Thanks to my own pledges to protect the public and secure their rights, the Japanese people have accepted the government I installed upon being named as their leader. Ask the media outlets, ask the people - we do not suppress freedom of speech, and they will tell you that the nation stands behind me. Both All for One’s former supporters and the heroes who lost their friends and coworkers in the chaos choose to stand behind me. All Might, who never fully recovered his quirk or health after he publicly fought and arrested All for One almost five years ago, stands behind me.

“And yet this has been called into question by people who sat by and did nothing when Japan fell and our people were slaughtered. Let me ask you, if All for One reappeared as he threatened to in my removal from power, would you once again leave Japan to its fate?”

Izuku spotted pale faces among the crowd and tried to calm the rage that swept over him. He didn’t want to be a dictator, he didn’t want to lead a nation, but that didn’t matter. Japan was his to protect.

“I am not here to defend myself. The United Nations was created to maintain worldwide peace and security, develop relations between countries, foster cooperation and create a forum to accomplish those goals. That’s what I’m here for. We ask to continue in our current position as part of this forum not because we need the assistance - as I pointed out, we handled the worst national crisis of our nation’s history without help from this esteemed assembly - but because we too wish for peace, allies, and cooperation with our fellow nations. If these similar goals do not bind this assembly together, then why does it exist?”

Here and there, people nodded. A few stared icily, a few hurriedly scribbled on pieces of paper that Izuku assumed contained their own speeches. Izuku breathed deeply.

“I also hope to ensure that when Japan once again transfers its leadership to a representative democracy under a restored Constitution, that the transition will have as few repercussions on our friends and allies as possible. With that said, I invite the United Nations to discuss Japan’s role as a member. Thank you.”

Izuku stepped away from the podium to a round of applause. He determinedly kept the panic from his face as, one by one, other representatives rose to make their speeches. After a few minutes, he was trying to keep amusement from his face instead. No one seemed quite sure how to handle Izuku’s abrasive speech, and the hurried revisions to their own speeches were often obvious. If nothing else, he’d gotten their attention.

Then the United States representative took the stage, and everything went downhill.

“It’s easy to talk of peace, but let us look to the villain this self-proclaimed ‘leader’ brought into our midst today as an example of the sort of peace he wishes for. Even now, the so-called public order currently being lauded is in a state of disrepair. Villains and vigilantes run rampant. People abuse their quirks as they please, the criminal justice system turning criminals into a public laughingstock for entertainment. The United States of America has always stood for freedom and justice, and if this is the state of affairs supported by Japan’s heroes, then I can only say they sound like poor heroes indeed.”

Izuku fought to control himself. How dare he? He couldn’t stop the hiss that escaped from his gritted teeth. The representative paused for a moment, glancing at where Izuku was attempting to compose himself and turned a shade paler. Despite that, he soldiered onward with his speech.

“Despite the suffering that has undoubtedly been inflicted upon them by the villain uprising, they continue to allow villains in their government. Since when has this assembly made deals with criminals? These ‘representatives’ can talk all they want, but the fact remains that this man is a successor to a regime established in blood and fear. No matter what misguided souls call themselves his backers, nothing changes that truth.”

Izuku gripped the arms of the chair until they creaked. If he reacted too strongly or if he ran, he’d play right into this asshole’s hands, he reminded himself. Cool, calm. You’re the one with the power here. He reminded himself of Hisashi last night, when Hisashi repeated some of the same complaints, almost verbatim, expecting Izuku to come up with a counter. He just had to wait until it was his turn to speak again.

“I remember when we welcomed All Might himself into our borders, and it pains me to see that he has fallen so far -”

That was it. Izuku was ready to cry from frustration; he could take insults to himself, but he’d let no one stand before him and insult the best people he knew, the best man he knew.

He was about to stand up and scream his rebuttal, but he was beaten to it by a “Boo!” from another part of the audience. That appeared to surprise the US representative, who looked in the direction of the sound. The culprit, apparently from Australia, didn’t look perturbed. Instead, he held the US representative’s gaze with a surprising amount of defiance. Izuku thought there was something familiar about the man.

The US representative dragged his gaze away and tried to continue. “And it pains me to see that -” The Australian representative booed even louder. A lot of the audience was glaring, Izuku noticed, though their targets were split between the interruption and the US representative.

The US representative apparently knew when he wasn’t being well received, and stepped away from the stage without attempting to complete the thought again. After he was escorted away from the podium, the Australian representative took the stage. Izuku managed to stifle the impatience to refute the claims now, and settled back into his seat.

“Well, it’s good to be here with all you fine folks, and not as good for the not-so-fine ones. I, for one, am happy to offer my support to Japan, and here’s why. They’ve been fixing things up over there, and if my eyes don’t deceive me, they’ve been taking inspiration from our own fair country’s policies. Isn’t that right, lad?”

Izuku nodded with round eyes. He’d certainly been looking into Australian policies to refine quirk laws since Hisashi pointed out the merits of their system several weeks ago. All for One had probably studied the system himself; many of the policies espoused in his notes reflected Australian quirk regulations.

“Which is why I’m sad to hear those fine quirk laws insulted by my own peers. Funny how they say they like freedom and then get mad at someone who’s finding ways to give it, yeah? So let’s talk about why Japan’s handling things brilliantly and why it’s a stupid idea to give them crap for it.”

The resulting diatribe, delivered with dry, unsubtle jabs at the US representative’s speech, made most of Izuku’s points for him. While not everyone in the room looked happy about it, more and more of the representatives started nodding at the points made halfway through.

Izuku felt irrationally disappointed. He wasn’t a politician, and he wasn’t nearly as well-established here, but it was his job to defend himself and Japan, not anyone else’s. He didn’t need anyone else stepping in. He’d learned to depend on his friends and Yagi - sort of - but he was pretty sure that he’d never met this person before in his life. He’d never been good at leaving important things in other people’s hands.

And that was the issue, wasn’t it? He had a hard time with trust. But it was something he’d have to learn, for when he left Japan in the hands of its elected officials and other people would be defending it in his place. He turned his attention back to the speech and listened intently, determined to let himself accept the unexpected ally.

The speech ended with loud applause from the audience, which Izuku joined wholeheartedly. The Australian representative - Izuku needed to look up the man’s name - winked at Izuku as he left the stage.

The rest of the time went much more smoothly. The Australian representative’s speech apparently set the tone, and slowly more and more nations chimed in with their own endorsements of Izuku and Japan. When Izuku finally stood at the podium again, the shakiness in his legs was from relief rather than nervousness.

“First of all, I’d like to thank those of you who have shown their support for Japan today,” Izuku began. He met the eyes of the audience, lingering on the Australian representative for a moment longer, then looked into the camera. “And to those of you around the world who are watching this - thank you, as well. A lot has been said here in defense of myself and Japan, and there are only a few things I wish to clarify.”

He’d brought a villain as a statement, and he wanted to make sure that statement was heard.

“Japan formed its concept of individual rights, embodied in its Constitution, on the principle of jinkaku, or ‘the elements that come together to define each person as an individual.’ Many of these rights have been revoked in Japan since quirks appeared, thanks to the abuse of their power that the government enacted. While many villains are criminals - as is anyone who maliciously harms another, whether they use a quirk or not - there are many who have been ostracized, or criminalized, for merely possessing and using a physical part of their own biology. Quirks are nothing if not an innate part of one’s individuality. As such, repressing them is contrary to our own foundational principles, no matter what traditions we’ve adopted over time. I will not apologize for allowing - and encouraging - my fellow Japanese to embrace a part of themselves, as long as it does not harm others.” He raised an eyebrow at the glowering US representative.

“Likewise, another freedom that has long been absent is the right of a fair trial, of being able to peacefully defend oneself in a court of law. It’s becoming increasingly obvious that the regular violence in our streets was brought about by offering two options to those assumed guilty of criminal activity: to fight for their lives and freedom, or to be locked away with no recourse or defense. If they were lucky, they might be released back into the wild after a brief detention; but the authorities could also choose to keep them detained indefinitely.

“None of that excuses those who have committed legitimate crimes, who murder and steal and terrorize. Neither will I let anyone ‘run rampant’ who does so. However, Japan has spent too long encouraging ‘villains’ toward violent resistance when labeled as such. Japan is currently rebuilding herself; I hope for a better society that focuses its efforts on removing the reasons for crime in the first place rather than simply fighting the symptoms. I want our prisons to rehabilitate those who are convicted of crimes, rather than locking them away and leaving them to rot. But in the meantime, Japan is left with a mess of those who are genuine criminals mixed with those who were labeled as villains unjustly, and many who started as the latter but were pushed into living as the former.”

Izuku clenched his fingers on the edge of the podium and leaned forward. This was certain to be a controversial move, and maybe the UN wasn’t the place for this. He’d hoped to announce this in Japan first. But everything had happened so fast, and now he was here. This was as good a place as any. He’d discussed it with Yagi before he left, and he was sure that this was the right choice. Maybe not the right one politically, but it was the right one as a hero.

“At this moment in time, though, Japan is at a turning point in history. We’re leaving the past behind now; what matters is what we, and they, choose to be in the future. I believe that justice is better served now by showing amnesty to those who will embrace it, who will choose to help Japan rebuild rather than continuing to tear her down. I want to offer a helping hand to those lost in the darkness. While I initially accepted the villains in my own government as a necessary evil, they have proven themselves as allies. I will not give quarter to those who still choose to inflict violence on their fellow man, but those who leave that behind them will find that I am willing to give them a way to do so.

“I plan to announce the Villain Amnesty Program officially upon my return to Japan, but even now I refuse to be ashamed of supporting people who have grasped the chance to leave their pasts behind. After all,” Izuku said, smiling wide, trying to hold back the tears in his eyes, “I’m a hero first and foremost. My duty is to extend a hand to those who need aid, no matter who they are.”

It was impossibly idealistic. No sane politician would commit career suicide this way, Hisashi had told him. But Izuku wasn’t a politician, and when Izuku had retorted with that, Hisashi had grinned sharply and told him to do as he wished.

The applause was louder than any yet heard in the chamber. Here and there, delegates stood as they clapped. Izuku tried to hide how close he was to crying, but a wet track down his cheek told him he’d failed.

He wasn’t about to cry waterfalls in front of the entire world, he wasn’t.

He choked out a “Thank you” to the audience before hurrying away from the podium, trying to surreptitiously wipe his eyes before the tears became obvious. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was crying. Maybe it was the long day, maybe it was the emotional rollercoaster he’d been on.

Maybe it was the way that Izuku had announced his controversial choice before the world, and had been met with cheering and applause. Oh, some still looked unhappy, but many looked excited and approving. He hadn’t expected that.

Izuku sat down in his seat with his retinue. Kirishima clapped him on the back almost hard enough to knock him out of his seat. Gigantomachia looked… weirdly close to tears? That couldn’t be right. Izuku’s own eyes were blurry, that had to be the problem.

He sniffled softly, and murmured another “thank you” when Gigantomachia passed him a tissue out of nowhere.

 

 

Izuku was about ready to collapse with relief as he left the General Assembly chamber. The vote calling for Japan to remain in its current position as a UN member, and for Izuku to be recognized as its head of state, had passed. He’d done it. All he wanted to do was go back to the hotel and collapse.

He nearly jumped out of his skin on his way out of the United Nations Headquarters when he heard, “Hey, kid!” from behind him. Izuku turned around to see the Australian representative waving at him. He mentally cursed at not looking up the man’s name beforehand.

Izuku stopped to wait for the man to catch up while waving Kirishima and Gigantomachia onward. They waited a small distance away while the Australian caught up. “Great work up there, kid!” the man said happily, holding out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet Japan’s Supreme Overlord himself.”

“Er, thank you. Just call me Midoriya, please,” Izuku said, shaking the offered hand. Looking the man over more closely, he finally pieced together why he was familiar. “You were Australia’s ambassador to Japan.” He’d personally helped evacuate the Australian embassy workers to a quiet, out-of-the-way airstrip.

“Right, mate, and things were a bit crazy at the time so I never got to say a proper thanks,” the representative said. “Name’s Patrick Thompson, by the way, just call me Rick. I asked to be reassigned to this job after I left, thought Japan could use the help.”

“I appreciate it,” Izuku said sincerely. “I’m glad you escaped safely.”

Rick waved a hand dismissively. “Downright boring flight, once we got past the danger to life and limb and all. Just wanted you to know that you have our support. You’ll want allies with this bunch, they’ll walk all over you if you let them. Though I have to say, you’re doing a fucking fantastic job for a kid who just started this gig a few months ago. Good on you.”

“Thanks! I was actually hoping to discuss the finer details of how Australia handles vigilantes and quirk usage with someone who understands those, if you wouldn’t mind. You’ve already noticed that I took inspiration from your laws, but there’s still a few places I’d like clarification on.” As much as he wanted to return to the hotel to call Yagi - and maybe hear Hisashi’s analysis of Izuku’s work - he couldn’t pass up this opportunity.

“Sure. Though I’d like to say I noticed those policies myself, but I’m afraid I didn’t. Old Japanese friend of mine called me up and mentioned that I should take a look. Not that I wasn’t already aiming to support Japan, but I wouldn’t have had the info without him.” His eyes narrowed at Izuku. “You didn’t have anything to do with that, I guess.”

“No?” Izuku said. “Should I?”

“Well, I thought you might be related, is all,” Rick said. “Didn’t get your real name back when you rescued me, but do you know Hisashi Midoriya?”

Izuku’s eyes widened. “Oh. He’s my father. I wonder why he didn’t tell me.”

“Small world, isn’t it? My old mate ends up with his kid leading the country. Sure does explain why he rang, he isn’t much of one to call people up for chats.”

Izuku nodded, and forced everything he felt about that to the back of his head. “Yeah, he really isn’t. Do you know of a good place nearby to talk about those policies?”

Rick slapped him on the back. “Sure do, let me introduce you to the best coffee shop this side of town. I can introduce you to a few other delegates, too, if you’d like.”

“Thanks,” Izuku said, smiling. It looked like this trip would be as productive as he’d hoped.

Notes:

Happy International Fanworks Day! I'm enjoying Izuku's obliviousness too much to stop that now. Huh? Obliviousness about what? I said nothing.

Also, no, Izuku isn't just going to pardon all the criminals. You'll find out more details about that Villain Amnesty Program in the future. :)

I'm still incredibly grateful for all the comments and kudos and bookmarks, I love you all.

Chapter 8: Great Questions

“Someone end my suffering.”
“You need a break, Young Midoriya.”
“I’ll have a break when I’m dead.”
“We both need a break, then.”

 

 

Izuku was delighted to be back in Japan, but he was less delighted by the amount of work he came back to. Just looking at it was exhausting. Yagi looked even more exhausted than Izuku felt - fair, since he’d been handling the more time-sensitive parts of Izuku’s workload in addition to his own Secretary of State position.

They hadn’t really talked about Izuku’s accidental term of address over the phone, but Yagi seemed to be in a better mood ever since. There was an added warmth to their chats over Japan’s state of affairs that wasn’t there before. That was nice, especially since Hisashi had become weirdly reclusive and withdrawn after that first day in New York. If Rick hadn’t mentioned Hisashi’s blatant string-pulling, combined with a series of notable international diplomats and figures who wanted to meet Izuku, he might’ve thought that Hisashi was avoiding him. Izuku had hoped for more bonding time with his newly-returned parental figure; but as usual, Yagi filled that role far better than Izuku’s actual father.

Not that Izuku didn’t appreciate the help, but he would’ve preferred Hisashi’s presence rather than this… stealth assistance. How did Hisashi even know so many people, he wondered? A lot of his businesses did deal with imports and exports, but these were political figures. True, many of them ran in the same circles, but… maybe he was reading too much into things.

Back to the conversation at hand. “I don’t think a break’s likely to happen until elections are over and I’ve stepped down,” Izuku said from his customary position of his head resting on the desk in front of him.

“What about something small, my boy? You haven’t had dinner with your friends since before all this. I’m sure everyone could use the time off.”

That… was actually a good point. Izuku had noticed Momo just about dying on her feet the last time she’d dropped in with a report, and the janitorial crew reported that the Todoroki brothers were starting to scare their coworkers with the sheer intensity with which they approached their work. Iida and Uraraka hadn’t left their departments in weeks, as far as Izuku knew.

There wasn’t time for a proper vacation, but they all needed a little time to destress and decompress.

“You’re right,” Izuku said. “Let’s have dinner.” He raised his head, and sighed at the paperwork that greeted him. “After I’ve caught up a bit.”

 

 

Catching up wasn’t that simple, and by the time Izuku had finally worked his way through the backlog that had built up over the past week, he had another thing to do: announce the details of the promised Villain Amnesty Program. After checking on the progress of government reforms, Izuku found an even better piece of news: enough was on track that they could finally set a date for elections to commence.

He decided to announce the Amnesty Program first - he had mentioned it at the UN - and then announce elections the week after. While Izuku wanted everything to be finished now, public support was crucial in ensuring that the new government wouldn’t redact Izuku's promises. Still, it was the perfect opportunity for a celebratory dinner with his friends and former teachers, set for the evening before the press conference on the Amnesty Program. It would be a quiet affair, held in one of the government meeting rooms and catered by a business that Izuku was quietly chagrined to realize belonged to himself.

It seemed like forever since he’d seen everyone in one place. Izuku hadn’t quite realized how much he missed them until he was surrounded by the excited, familiar chatter of Class 1-A. Aizawa lurked gloomily in the background as always, with Yamada buzzing around him. Izuku never quite got over what an unlikely duo they were. Yagi was already sitting at the table, looking happier than Izuku had seen him the past few months.

Izuku chuckled to himself when yelling exploded from a corner of the room. Yes, Class 1-A wasn’t quite the same without Bakugou. He’d reluctantly entrusted his mother’s safety to Gigantomachia for the night in order to make sure he was included.

He wasn’t sure what knot of chattering classmates to approach first, until Uraraka and Iida ran up to him.

“Deku! It’s been forever! I've missed you.”

“Midoriya! It’s a pleasure to see you. We’ve all been busy, and gathering everyone was an excellent idea.”

“Thanks, Iida. I’ve missed you both, too. How have you been?”

Uraraka launched into an excited explanation of how she was helping her father update infrastructure policies to allow looser restrictions on quirk use in construction. After that, Iida took his turn with a proud retelling of his brother’s hard work in welfare reform. Izuku had signed off on the changes to the regulations himself, but the pride in their voices brought a warm smile to his face.

They were helping so many people. Maybe they weren’t out fighting villains, but this was important, too.

Uraraka seemed to agree. “I miss hero work, but it’s nice knowing that people like me who want to use their quirks to help their families can do that now. And Dad seems happy.”

“Good,” Izuku said. A thought occurred. “Maybe he should apply for the Department of Infrastructure again after the elections are over. Your brother should apply for the Welfare department, too, Iida.”

“My brother would be honored to continue to assist people if he is able to do so!” Iida waved his hand in an abrupt motion.

“I can’t promise if either will get in - I won’t be in charge any more - but they have relevant experience, so that should help their chances.” If it was up to Izuku, he’d happily keep both on as ministers of their departments. Uraraka’s father and Iida’s brother had been invaluable, bringing first-hand experience in their fields to their positions. Momo’s mother was the same, though she had businesses to return to when this ridiculousness was over.

“I’ll tell my dad!” Uraraka beamed. “But that’s enough about work! Come on, Deku, everyone misses you.”

Izuku let himself be dragged over to join the rest of the class and their chatter. Bakugou almost looked happy to see him. Izuku only received two death threats.

Dinner arrived, and everyone chaotically grabbed food from the buffet table and settled into spots around the massive table in the center of the room. Izuku found himself next to Todoroki.

“Midoriya. I apologize,” Todoroki said abruptly as Izuku took a bite.

Izuku nearly choked but managed to swallow the rice. “For what?” he sputtered.

“I know you said you weren’t All Might’s secret love child during our first year, but I never fully believed you. I’m sorry.”

Izuku carefully placed his chopsticks down before Todoroki found another way to make him choke on his meal. No one appeared to be paying attention. This was the wrong place for this conversation, but Todoroki apparently had other ideas. “It’s alright. We’re pretty close, I know.”

“Endeavor apologized, and I eventually forgave him. But that didn’t change everything he’d done, or suddenly make him a good father. I thought if you and All Might...” Todoroki paused. “I thought that if you and All Might were family, it’d make things better, somehow.”

Izuku tilted his head in confusion. “Better?”

“It gave me hope that things aren’t always like that. That probably sounds strange.”

“No, that makes sense. You wanted a better model for a family than the one you had, right?” Izuku stared across the table where Yagi was chatting with Aizawa.

Todoroki nodded. “That’s probably it.”

“You might be more right than you know. We’re not related by blood, but we’re family anyway.”

“How does that work?”

He hadn’t figured it out himself, not fully, but his friend needed to hear this. “Family is supposed to be about love and support and a foundation to grow on.” Not that Izuku had often had that, but he thought that was it. “Your real family is supposed to offer that, but sometimes they don’t. People outside your family aren’t required to offer that, but sometimes they do. Yagi-san has been that for me ever since we met, and I think that makes him family.”

Todoroki looked contemplative. “And what about your real family?”

“It’s not a zero-sum game, Todoroki. When you add more people to your family, it expands your family. No one has to leave to make room. And I don’t think there’s as much of a difference as people make between ‘blood’ family and chosen family.” Izuku smiled. Yagi met his eyes from halfway down the table, and the shy smile on Yagi’s face made Izuku’s widen. “In a way, Class 1-A is part of my family, too. Even with my father reappearing… that doesn’t make Yagi-san any less of a father to me. But that doesn’t mean I have to reject my father, either.”

Izuku was still coming to terms with that concept himself. But Todoroki had been struggling between the abrupt demise of his own father, and the reintroduction of his long-lost brother. Izuku hadn’t seen Todoroki much over the past few weeks, but he knew his friend; Todoroki was sure to be struggling with understanding how to look at family right now. Maybe even more than Izuku was.

“You’re my family, too,” Todoroki said decisively.

Izuku felt his face flush. “Todoroki!”

“What?”

“I - uh - yes, thank you,” Izuku stuttered.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No, I just didn’t expect you to just... come out with it like that.”

“That’s adorable,” said Tsuyu from across the table.

Izuku decided he’d respond to that after his face cooled down.

Todoroki looked between him and Tsuyu. “Did I say something wrong?” he repeated.

“Normally you wouldn’t say it in public,” Tsuyu responded. “Telling someone they’re family is a personal thing. But you don’t have as much of a problem with personal confessions as Midoriya does.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, Midoriya. Next time I’ll wait until we’re in private.”

Izuku was ready to combust now, no thanks to the person with the half-fire quirk sitting next to him. “Thanks, Tsu,” he finally managed in a tired voice.

Tsuyu blinked. “You could be a bit more confident, you know,” she said. “If you haven’t told Yagi-san that he’s like a father to you, you should. It’s easy for us to see, but it’s important to talk about these things.”

“Weeeell,” Izuku said, shrinking into his seat.

“Something happened, didn’t it?” Why was she so perceptive?

“I accidentally… calledhimDadonthephonelastweek,” Izuku said in a rush.

“Oh. Well, you should talk with him about that.”

“I don’t know how to,” Izuku groaned, putting his face in his hands. Todoroki carefully patted his back.

“Oooh,” Uraraka chimed in from next to Tsuyu, where she’d turned away from her own conversation, “Why is Deku embarrassed now?”

“He needs to talk to Yagi-san about how he thinks of him as a father,” Tsuyu said mercilessly.

“It’s not that simple,” Izuku protested. “I don’t even know what to do with… with Hisashi. I need to figure that out before I can talk to Yagi-san, I think.” After his previous conversation with Yagi on the subject, he knew Yagi would worry about coming between Izuku and Hisashi if it weren’t cleared by everyone.

“Talk to him too,” Tsuyu said, as if it were that simple. “He might be jealous of Yagi-san, but tell him what you told Todoroki about family. He should be able to accept that you have other people you care about.”

“Yeah! Yagi-san’s great, so there shouldn’t be any problem!”

Izuku picked up his chopsticks. “I’ll think about it,” Izuku said noncommittally.

Tsuyu and Uraraka looked at each other. Izuku had a sinking feeling that they weren’t about to let this go. They knew him too well. Sometimes that was a problem.

“You should go home tonight!” Uraraka said. “We’ll keep Bakugou here, you deserve to spend a night at home anyway. I’m sure your mom misses you.”

She probably did. Izuku hadn’t been calling her as regularly as he should, but - “I’m not ready to talk to Hisashi tonight!”

“Will you ever be ready?” Tsuyu said, tilting her head.

“You should do it, Midoriya,” Todoroki added. “It feels nice to admit.”

Izuku resisted the urge to faceplant into his bowl of rice.

“Hey, Bakugou!” Uraraka called, “We’re trying to make Deku go home to his parents after dinner! Want a night off?”

“Hell yes, he can deal with the fucker for a change,” Bakugou yelled back. “Go home to your mom and your shitty dad, Deku.”

“It is important to visit your family, Midoriya! Since you have taken a break from work, it is an excellent choice to spend it at home.”

“I know you just got back from a trip with us, man, but you mostly spent it talking with diplomats. Your dad looked pretty down about it.”

“Young Midoriya, your mother has been texting me that she misses you. It’s a wonderful opportunity to see her.”

“Go visit your parents, Problem Child.”

“YEEEAH!”

Family didn’t mean Izuku couldn’t hate all of them right now.

 

 

Izuku nearly tried to skip out on going home anyway, but someone - probably Uraraka - stole his phone and texted his mother that he’d be coming home after dinner, corroborated by texts from Bakugou and Yagi. Aizawa even called Shirakumo, and a Warp Gate was waiting for Izuku after dinner was finished. Izuku wasn’t left with much choice; he couldn’t disappoint his mother.

He found himself straightening his vest nervously in front of his apartment’s front door, which he opened.

Izuku hadn’t closed the door before Inko was hugging him tightly. “I’ve missed you, honey.”

“Sorry, Mom.” He kept promising not to worry her, and then he kept leaving her in the dark. At least he had an excuse.

She held on for another long moment, and then reluctantly let go. “Machia said he’d be outside, he doesn’t want to disturb us.”

So someone had gotten Gigantomachia in on it, too. Lovely.

Izuku followed her to the living room awkwardly. Hisashi was there already… crocheting? Izuku still couldn’t quite wrap his head around that, and chose to ignore it when the man put down the square he was working on with a smile that lit his face.

“Welcome home, Izuku,” Hisashi said softly.

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck and dropped into a seat. “Yeah, uh, my friends all decided I should visit.”

“I’ll go make tea,” his mother said cheerfully, leaving them alone.

They were left in silence. Hisashi didn’t move to pick up his crochet.

“I… think I need to talk to you?” Izuku finally said.

“About what?” Hisashi asked cautiously.

“Us. This. Family.” Izuku winced. He wasn’t sure what to say. But annoying as it was, his friends were right. It wouldn’t be right to keep pushing this aside.

Hisashi looked almost as uncertain as Izuku felt. “We could… do that, yes.”

Izuku stared at his hands and fidgeted. He could feel Hisashi’s eyes on him. “I think it’s important,” he muttered.

“Maybe we should talk in the park?”

That sounded like a great idea, actually. Izuku knew the one he was talking about - not far away from the house, probably abandoned right now. Neutral ground was best for serious discussions. “That sounds good. After tea?” He didn’t want to lose too much time with his mother.

“After tea.”

Inko returned soon with tea, and Izuku asked her about how she’d been. Izuku and Hisashi mostly listened in warm silence as she chattered about the small joys of managing the apartment building. She could hire someone, she said, but she liked having something to do with Izuku gone so much of the time. She was making friends with the neighbors, too - she’d brought cookies over to the family downstairs last week.

She also had started studying business online. Izuku was surprised, but after listening longer, he realized that he shouldn’t be. Inko was happier with Hisashi home. She’d been left alone for so long, but now her husband was back and she was meeting people. Izuku couldn’t help but be grateful that Hisashi had returned now. Izuku couldn’t be here for her, but Hisashi, of all people, could.

Izuku sat and listened long after he’d finished his tea, both to put off the conversation with Hisashi and because he had missed his mom. He was glad she was happy. But, inevitably, she picked up the teacups and took them to the kitchen. Izuku sighed, stood, and yelled “We’re taking a walk!”

“Okay, honey!”

Hisashi stood as well.

Izuku didn’t see Gigantomachia anywhere when he left the apartment building, but the giant could be surprisingly stealthy when he wanted to be, so Izuku didn’t think much of it. Hisashi followed him to the park. Izuku didn’t start talking until they were both sitting on a bench, staring at the empty playground swings.

“I’m not saying this to hurt you,” Izuku started abruptly. “But… having a good reason for not being there when I grew up doesn’t change the fact that I grew up without a father. I didn’t really have anyone besides Mom until I met All Might - Yagi-san - and he ended up taking that place.”

He didn’t turn to see Hisashi’s expression. Hisashi was completely still beside him.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t accept you as a father, too.”

That obviously startled Hisashi. Izuku felt him turn, and Izuku looked into his widening eyes. “You do?”

“Yes,” Izuku said, forcing himself to hold Hisashi’s gaze. “You left to protect us, you’ve been trying to help however you can - and I want to get to know you. I want us to be family. Properly. I’ll always think of Yagi-san as a father figure, but that’s… it’s not like I can only choose one person to care about. I… I hope you can accept that, I mean… I don’t want you to be hurt, as I said, you’ve probably been hurt enough already and you had to give us up and -”

“You’re rambling, Izuku.”

Izuku shut his mouth.

Hisashi turned away, and Izuku took a deep breath, in and out, to calm himself.

“I won’t pretend that it doesn’t hurt to lose my son to All Might,” Hisashi finally said. “Well, I would, but - I suppose I should answer your honesty in kind. I’m glad that you found people to depend on while I wasn’t around, so I can accept it for your sake.” He sighed. “Honestly, I’m lucky enough that you’re willing to consider me a father at all.”

Izuku nodded, and hesitantly reached out to touch Hisashi’s shoulder. “Yeah. I… didn’t think I would. But I do.” Oh, this was so awkward.

“Would you… ah, never mind.”

“What?”

Hisashi reached up to wrap his fingers over Izuku’s resting on his shoulder. “What does family mean to you, Izuku?”

It helped that Izuku had already answered that question earlier. “Love. Support. A foundation.”

Hisashi squeezed his hand. “A foundation?” he prompted.

Izuku ignored the urge to run away from this conversation. He’d much rather smash a villain’s face in than talk about feelings. “I’m the person I am because of the people who’ve been there for me through everything. We’ve become stronger together. We rely on each other. I trust them. They’re who I fell back on when I didn’t know what to do about… all this.” He waved his free hand. “They didn’t know anything more about running a government than I did, but they found ways to help, and I knew everything would be okay, because they were here.”

“Ah,” Hisashi said. “I never thought of it like that.”

“What do you think of family as, then?” Izuku hadn’t really asked about Hisashi’s family before.

Hisashi’s face twisted in a grimace. “My parents were never really parents to my brother and I. And my brother… well, we had our differences. I don’t think we ever really understood each other. We were always at odds. I would’ve done anything to protect him, but he didn’t appreciate it.”

Izuku shrugged. “Sometimes people would rather do the protecting.” That hit a little close to home, considering how Izuku generally felt about being protected.

“I was the strong one, he was weak and sickly. It made sense to let me do the protecting.” Hisashi shook his head. “All in the past, now. He’s not around any more to argue the point.”

Hisashi sounded lonely. Izuku wanted to pry further, but he still wanted an answer. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“I don’t have such a neat answer as you, Izuku. Family, to me, is… people I’d do anything to protect.” He shrugged. “That’s it, I suppose.”

“That seems remarkably one-sided.”

“It is what it is. I was always the strong one, it’s my duty to take care of them.”

Izuku could see why that would be the case, between Hisashi’s brilliance and wealth and the fire-breath quirk he still hadn’t seen in action. That didn’t make it right, that Hisashi was expected to bear everything himself. That he expected so much from himself. “That doesn’t mean they can’t help you, though. Healthy relationships are a two-way street. You’re supposed to get something from it, too.”

Hisashi laughed softly to himself, an unhappy sound, and released Izuku’s hand. “Is that what it is to you? A transaction?”

“Not entirely.” Izuku shrugged. “I’ll happily protect people for no reward, myself. And sometimes family is unequal - a parent and child often is, for example. But they’re not family if it’s not at least a little mutual.”

“I see,” Hisashi murmured.

Izuku waited for him to speak, but Hisashi didn’t continue. “That’s what I think, anyway,” Izuku finally said awkwardly.

“It’s a foreign concept,” Hisashi said. “But I suppose when it comes to a mutually beneficial and supportive relationship, Yagi does win over myself.”

Izuku shook his head. This had been so easy when talking with his friends. “It’s not a competition. I can care about multiple people at the same time.”

“I don’t like sharing,” Hisashi snapped.

Izuku stared. That sounded… childishly petulant. Strangely so for a man usually so smooth and confident.

“But I won’t make you choose,” Hisashi continued, visibly pulling himself together. “And maybe I can learn to see your way of looking at things. Mutually supportive, is it?”

Izuku leaned over and hugged Hisashi. He was a bit old for this, but… he had a feeling that the man needed it. Hisashi froze for a split second, then moved abruptly to wrap his own arms around Izuku.

“Mutually supportive.”

The arms tightened, and he felt Hisashi press his face against his hair.

 

 

It was nice to spend the night in his own bed, but Izuku had to wake up the following morning all too early. The press conference wasn’t scheduled until that evening, announcing both the Villain Amnesty Project and one other thing Izuku had decided to unveil, but Izuku still had plenty of things to prepare. He took Shirakumo’s Warp Gate back to his office - still so incredibly convenient - and had just settled at his desk when Yagi walked in carrying a pile of ever-present paperwork.

“Oh, Young Midoriya. How was your visit with your parents?”

Izuku stared at him. He had so much to do, but… he abruptly felt the need to know now. “What does family mean to you, Yagi-san?”

Yagi fumbled with the stack of paperwork he was carrying. “Did something happen last night, my boy?”

“Not exactly. Maybe? I had a talk with Hisashi.”

Yagi looked him over, and set the paperwork down. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Izuku frowned. A little, but he wanted an answer first. “Maybe. But I think I’d like to know what family means to you.”

Yagi sat down on the sofa. “I don’t remember having a family,” he said finally. “I was fostered and passed between homes.” His shadowed eyes met Izuku’s. “Part of why Nana Shimura picked me up, I think, is because I didn’t have anyone for All for One to target. I thought he was dead when I picked you as my successor, otherwise I might have had the same consideration.”

Izuku shivered at that. All for One had been close enough to his family already; maybe he was even lucky that the demon had a use for Hisashi Midoriya. That might’ve been what saved Inko when Izuku took One for All.

That, or whatever reason All for One had for giving Izuku Japan.

Yagi continued. “That’s why I don’t want to come between you and your father, my boy. If you can have what I never had, I’d only be grateful.”

“You’re the closest thing I have to a father figure,” Izuku responded promptly. “You’re family. My family just got a little bigger.”

Yagi smiled shyly. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely.”

“Family. I’d like that.” Yagi rubbed his neck. “I think you should save ‘Dad’ for your actual father, but… you could call me Toshi. If you wanted to.”

Izuku thought that Yagi… Toshi still deserved the title more, but he could accept that. “Toshi, then.”

Toshi had never looked happier.

 

 

Unfortunately for Izuku, there were still some last-minute details to be dealt with before evening arrived.

“Are you sure you want to be his sponsor?” he asked Aizawa. “I’m sure Kayama would be happy to do it, as well.”

Aizawa looked at him tiredly. “Don’t think I can manage it?”

“Well, you are busy.”

“And quirkless.”

Izuku winced. No, that wasn’t why he was hesitant about this, but he understood the insecurity that came with a lack of quirk. It had to be even worse for someone who was missing theirs entirely.

“You’re ridiculously competent with or without your quirk. I’m just worried about your own emotional state, Aizawa-sensei. I know Shirakumo meant a lot to you.”

“That’s why I want to do this. He would have, if it was me.”

“You might have to fight him if he stepped out of line.” He’d heard enough of the story by now - bits and pieces from Aizawa, Present Mic and Kayama. He’d seen Shirakumo’s hesitance, the way they all danced around each other before finally clicking. They worked alongside each other like well-oiled machines. Even now, with Shirakumo busy welcoming the returning ambassadors, they still were often found together. Izuku had considered moving them all into a communal office with four desks, considering how much time they spent in each other’s offices anyway.

“I’ll do it if I need to,” Aizawa said. Izuku could tell by the stubborn set of his jaw that he meant it.

“Alright.” Izuku nodded. “It’s decided then. Send in Kouda next.”

 

 

“You’re volunteering to sponsor Shimura?”

Kouda nodded frantically.

“He hasn’t threatened you or anything, right?”

A hesitant shake of the head.

“I need to know if he has.”

He threatens people with lectures on fertilizer at lunchtime, Kouda signed. The whole class had decided to learn sign language in their second year, partly because Kouda preferred it and partly because it was useful in stealth situations.

Izuku hadn’t… really expected that. “That’s a bit childish of him.”

Kouda shrunk into his seat. I suggested it.

“You… did?”

It’s less violent than… Kouda’s signs wavered. I thought it would help him if he had something less violent to threaten people with.

“You have a point,” Izuku said. “Good work, Kouda. I’m happy to let you continue working with him, as long as you’re fine with that. Send in Kirishima on your way out, will you?”

Kouda nodded again, and hurried out.

What an odd friendship.

 

 

“Have you talked to Gigantomachia about this?”

“Yeah, we’ve talked. He’s cool, we’ve been sparring in the mornings in the basement.”

“You’ve been… what?” Izuku hadn’t heard about that.

“Yeah, man, there’s a lot of space down there that we cleared out. It’s a great place for sparring, we all go down there pretty regularly. No one bothered to tell you?”

Izuku massaged his temples. “No, no one told me that there’s a sparring ring in the government basement!”

“You should come sometime! Machia’s a great sparring partner, tough as nails but he can go easy if he needs to. We’ve all learned a lot from him.”

Izuku wanted to punch Kirishima’s sunny smile off his face. On second thought, maybe a sparring match would be perfect. It would give him an excuse to do just that. If only he didn’t have a press conference this evening; he couldn’t show up with a black eye or a broken nose. Without Recovery Girl, it wouldn’t heal in time.

“I’m more worried about Gigantomachia picking up bad habits from you than anything,” he muttered. “But if you think you can handle it, I’ll give the approval. He’s a tough one, though, so I expect you to call someone if you think there’ll be trouble.”

“Don’t sweat it, man! He’s great, and if he makes trouble I’ll have you guys all come help me kick him into orbit.”

“That’s all I ask. Well, that, and please let me know next time you decide to set up a fighting ring somewhere inappropriate.”

“Come on, man, it’s not that bad!”

 

 

“Hello, Todoroki. How have things been with your brother, Touya Todoroki?”

“Fine. He’s been helpful.”

Izuku frowned. “I know he’s been helpful in putting together your new heroics model, but that’s not what I really want to know. I want to make sure that you’re okay with… continuing to work with him.”

“I thought about what you said last night,” Todoroki said slowly. “He’s not family like you explained it. But we’re his, and he needs that. Natsuo and I are helping him. It’s a hero’s job to help people.”

“If you’re sure that’s what you want to do,” Izuku said.

“I’m sure. We all have scars from the same person. I want to help Touya.”

“Just remember that you’re responsible if anything happens,” Izuku said.

Todoroki nodded. “I remember. Oh, and Izuku?”

“Yes?”

“You’re also my family.”

“Todoroki!”

“I said it in private this time. Did I say it wrong?”

“No… Thanks, you’re my family, too.”

Notes:

I call this one the Emotions Chapter.

It didn't fit in anywhere properly, but I really wanted this to happen:
Aizawa: *bursts in "Alright, it looks like everyone's under a misconception. None of you are Izuku's dad. I'm his dad. Come on, son, we're going home. Sorry, Yagi."
Izuku: "Aizawa-sensei?!"

As always, a big thank you to everyone who leaves comments and bookmarks and kudos! You folks are the best!

Chapter 9: Great Revelations

“I can’t believe this is nearly over. Well, not quite, we’ve got six more months. But it’ll be over.”
“Me neither, Young Midoriya. This has been a wild few months, hasn’t it?”
“It really has. Thanks for everything. Really.”
“Of course. I’m so proud of you, my boy. You’ve been brilliant.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Maybe you could, maybe you couldn’t, but I’m glad I was able to help.”
“Maybe I could’ve, but let me rephrase: I wouldn’t have wanted to do this without you, Toshi. Thank you so much. Ah - more tea?”

 

 

After Izuku’s visit to the UN, the crowd of media personnel in Japan was almost charmingly non-threatening. Not that he’d ever get over his dislike of press conferences, but his newfound serenity was a nice change.

That was good, because this announcement was going to be nerve-wracking enough. Despite the overwhelming support Izuku had earned during the UN visit, there was plenty of uncertainty over the Villain Amnesty Program Izuku had mentioned.

He took a deep breath, and began.

“People of Japan, first of all, I’d like to thank you. Our country has banded together to rebuild herself in the wake of a crisis that could very well have shattered her. This fragile peace we currently have is only thanks to the people who helped restore it.

“Some of those people were entirely unexpected sources of assistance. Several months ago, All for One gave me this position and disappeared. Some of those who worked for him offered their help in the abrupt changeover. We, and they, have worked alongside former enemies since then, towards the goal of restoring Japan’s government to what it should have been. It is only through their help that we were able to so quickly dismantle what All for One built - what they themselves built.”

The former League had helped the government in many ways, but forgiveness was a lot to ask for. There had been so much suffering, so much hurt, so many killed because of All for One and his people. Even more suffered from the former government’s abuses.

“Make no mistake, this does not erase the crimes they committed. Justice would call for them to be locked away for the rest of their lives. I will not ask the people of Japan to forgive those who murdered and destroyed and ruined lives, no matter what they choose to do now. Instead, I’ll ask a question.

“Which is better: punishment or reform?”

Izuku paused for a moment, allowing the confusion to settle.

“The world’s best criminal rehabilitation systems are modeled on the latter. Norway has the world’s lowest crime rate. Their prisons are comfortable, prisoners are allowed the same rights as ordinary citizens except for restriction of their freedom, and most who leave - which is the vast majority - never return. This is because the focus is on ‘restorative justice’ - helping criminals become productive members of society, rather than delivering the harsh punishment those criminals may richly deserve.” Izuku had talked with the Norwegian UN delegate during his week in America, and she’d personally connected him with Norwegian experts to hammer out the final details of his plan. It could work.

“Consider whether it is better to leave human lives to rot away in prison, rendered useless to society, or whether they should help rebuild what they have destroyed with their own hands. I might never forgive the innocent lives lost in violence and hate. But as someone who wants Japan to move forward, between the choice of taking vengeance and seeing change, I would rather see a villain change.

“That is why I’ve enacted the Villain Amnesty Program, for all who were labeled villains by society and the government and have the will to choose another path. We’ve already put it into effect for those employed by our government. In this program, participants will be sponsored - by heroes or former heroes for now, although we will accept applicants in good societal standing who are willing to accept the responsibility. These sponsors will work with these participants for a year, assisting them in finding gainful employment or educational opportunities, as well as mental health or quirk counseling for those who need it. They will also provide oversight for the participant, and will be held responsible for the participant’s behavior should they willingly choose to violate the law during that time. Identities of both parties will be kept private, if they so choose. At the end of the year, as long as the participants pass the review, their crimes will be expunged from the records. Of course, should they engage in further criminal activity, they will be tried like any citizen.

“Anyone may also request that their records be reviewed. Should they be found innocent of crimes under the current laws - such as in cases where they were arrested for public quirk use, or fought in self-defense, or have evidence of their innocence that was never presented before a court of law - they may have their names cleared immediately. Further information, as always, is available online.”

Izuku was sure many of the former villains still out there would be suspicious of a trap. He hoped that the terms would satisfy those worried about the lenient treatment. There were a few clauses he’d left out in his speech - for example, in cases of stolen property, reasonable restitution would be required - but with any luck the terms he’d stated would interest people enough to look for themselves.

“To help with all this, I’ve used my own funds to establish the Second Chance Foundation. Currently it will exist as a supplementary avenue for the Villain Amnesty Program to help the participants find everything they need to establish themselves as contributing members of society. Once the program is finished the foundation will open to the general public, assisting people with finding educational and employment opportunities, mental health and quirk counseling, job training, and financial assistance for those who are in need of it.” It was a good use for that ridiculous income Izuku had been left with, thanks to Hisashi.

“Construction has already begun on the foundation headquarters. In front of the foundation, there will be a memorial to commemorate all those who were casualties of a broken system. Heroes, villains, ordinary people - Japan has lost too much already. I hope that it will serve as a reminder to future generations to leave the cycle of violence and hate, to save as many as we can. Even those who need saving from themselves.”

Because what was the purpose of a hero, if not to save people?

“Do they deserve it? Maybe not. But, growing up, I always loved heroes because they saved people. I never asked if the people deserved to be saved. Heroes would never get anywhere if they stood by and asked who deserved to be rescued. So, I’m not going to stand here and argue that point, either. Forgiveness or not, deserving or not, if someone takes my hand and asks for help, I will not refuse it. I can only hope the Japanese people are willing to do the same.”

Izuku stepped away from the podium and bowed deeply, squeezing his eyes shut as cameras flashed. He’d made his choice. There would probably be many who’d hate the idea of giving mercy to the former League; this probably would reignite the rumors of Izuku working with All for One again.

But Izuku couldn’t really choose otherwise. Not after Izuku had studied All for One’s notes, and other countries’ criminal rehabilitation policies, and realized that the most successful methods of lowering crime rates operated by giving people hope that they could be better. Not after the League proved those notes true as they hesitantly made friends with their new coworkers and worked toward making Japan better (Bubaigawara, in particular, had sponsor volunteers from what seemed like half the government thanks to his successful lobbying for a sparkling new cafeteria for the employees).

Izuku still found it difficult to trust them, he always would, but he had never avoided risk if there was a chance to help. To set things right.

He rose from his bow and stepped back to the podium, bracing himself for the many questions sure to follow.

 

 

Once again, the public response to Izuku’s press conference was overwhelmingly positive, to the point that Yamada called it suspicious. Izuku gave him permission to involve Aizawa in investigating.

Aizawa, in turn, asked to involve Momo and the Department of Commerce, and Izuku heard he’d gotten Shirakumo to help him access various government files. He also asked for permission to audit several of Izuku’s businesses, which Izuku agreed to. Izuku even directed his lawyers - recommended by Momo - to help with the investigation to the best of their abilities. If Izuku wasn’t so busy, he might’ve asked Aizawa to explain his reasons for those particular routes of investigation, but Izuku trusted that he knew what he was doing.

The election announcement went out without incident, and Izuku was happy that he’d soon be able to put all of this behind him. Six months, and then he’d be free. A little less than five months to allow candidates to campaign for their chosen positions, and one month allotted to the changeover - and then Izuku would be going home and resuming his work as a hero. Though considering that the Todoroki brothers had abolished the popularity-based ranking system that determined pay grades and turned licenced heroes into essentially well-trained and well-paid emergency responders, that would look a bit different in the future. Hisashi called him just to congratulate him, which was nice, considering how rarely Hisashi called.

Toshi shared his relief, as well as a celebratory cup of tea while they mutually appreciated the light at the end of the tunnel. The rest of the reforms would be announced over the coming months by the individuals responsible; Izuku merely had to sign off on things and make sure things kept running until the elected officials were ready to take over.

Then again, when was Izuku’s life ever that easy?

 

 

“So what did you need to talk about, Aizawa-sensei?” Izuku didn’t think he’d seen his former teacher look this grim since Bakugou was kidnapped during their first year.

“You’re not going to like this, Midoriya.” Oh crap. Not “Problem Child” as Aizawa had taken to using over the years. This must be serious.

“Did you find something?”

Aizawa grimaced. “And more. The good news is that I might have found a clue to the whereabouts of All for One.”

“You did?” Izuku leaned forward in his chair eagerly. They’d been searching for months. “Where? How?”

“I think I’d better start with the ‘how’ first,” Aizawa said. “This is pretty hard to believe. But - first, you know I was investigating Hizashi’s suspicions about the media. Well, we found the source of the influence, alright. Yaoyorozu tells me that most of the media outlets with positive coverage have a single owner.”

“Me,” Izuku said with a sinking feeling. “But I wouldn’t… try to control them.”

“You don’t have to. Think, Problem Child. Who else might have a connection they could unofficially exploit?”

“Hisashi’s been pulling strings again,” Izuku guessed as his stomach sank even further. Considering the conversation opener, a mention of his father wasn’t the most encouraging note.

“Correct. If he’s just calling in favors, there’s not much he’s doing that’s illegal. Less, in fact, than if you tried pulling strings yourself as the owner.”

Izuku nodded. “And online?”

“Strategic use of sockpuppet accounts - not bots either, unless those bots are extremely well-programmed. Clever manipulation of search results. Opinion polls remain uninfluenced, they’re mostly fact-spreading and propaganda. Most of it’s over VPN, but we were able to trace enough to find a general location. Hatsume helped with that. A lot of it’s from your neighborhood, except for a week spent in the United States.” Aizawa’s face quirked in an unexpected wry smile. “His choice of aliases was unexpectedly amusing, I’ll send you the list.”

Izuku frowned. “I probably should talk with him, but that’s nothing illegal yet.”

“Well, I hope you don’t mind, but I decided to investigate your father. I should’ve done it before, but -”

“You’ve been busy with the assassination attempts,” Izuku said. “I wish you’d asked me first.”

“It’s a good thing I did, though. I found this in the jumble of paperwork we recovered from the burned vaults.” Aizawa pushed a single piece of paper across the desk.

It was old and worn and faded. A bit singed, probably from the government fires. A birth certificate, made out for Hisashi Midoriya.

A birth certificate over 200 years old.

“So… my father was named after an ancestor of ours?” Izuku said, confused.

Aizawa sighed deeply. “Yaoyorozu never found records of ownership transfer because she wasn’t looking back far enough. The fires took out a lot of documents, but Hisashi Midoriya was buying businesses since at least 100 years ago. We audited a few of your companies, and there’s no records of any ownership transfer since then - except for when they were transferred to you.”

“But my father doesn’t have a longevity quirk. Does that mean he didn’t legally own those businesses?”

Aizawa covered his eyes with his hand. “You’re smarter than this, Midoriya.”

Could Hisashi have lied about his quirk? But it would be hard to fake a fire-breath quirk unless… Unless he had multiple quirks. Had he been connected to All for One for that long? Had everything Hisashi said been a lie?

“The only thing we’re missing is a DNA test to be sure.” Aizawa lowered his hand and straightened. “I figured I’d let you decide if you wanted one.”

What? He couldn’t mean… no. “That’s ridiculous,” Izuku said. “Hisashi can’t be All for One. He…” Why would he? The room started to tilt.

But why not? Because he didn’t fit Izuku’s idea of a mass-murdering supervillain? Because Hisashi cared in his own strange way, and All for One couldn’t possibly care for anyone other than himself? Because Izuku wanted to believe that his father was a victim who’d been threatened into submission by a monster, rather than the very perpetrator who threatened people?

“He can’t be,” Izuku repeated in a small voice.

Aizawa watched him. “There’s a good chance that Hisashi Midoriya is All for One,” he said, every word measured and deliberate. He might as well announce Izuku’s execution while he was at it.

“No. No.”

“I know it’s hard to accept.” Izuku rarely heard Aizawa’s voice sound so gentle. “But ignoring the truth won’t help, Problem Child.”

“I can’t be related to him. He… he… I can’t be. He hurt All Might - Toshi. He killed so many people.”

“So now you get to decide whether to put those fancy words of yours into action,” Aizawa said ruthlessly.

That brought Izuku’s mind to a screeching halt. He hadn’t really considered - if he found All for One, what he would do with him. Let him go after a year, like everyone else? And why not? He’d be letting plenty of other mass murderers walk free as long as they demonstrated their intent to change. But All for One couldn’t change, he was evil incarnate, he was a monster -

Who’d given Izuku Japan. Like Hisashi Midoriya had done with his businesses.

“It’s almost never about being pure evil, though some may give a convincing illusion of it. All part of the mask,” Hisashi had said.

“It’s time to lose the mask. Perhaps I should take up a hobby.” Hadn’t All for One joked about taking up crochet? Hadn’t Izuku walked in on Hisashi crocheting during his last visit home?

The world tilted further on its axis. It had been a joke, that was all.

“Problem Child?”

“And my brother… well, we had our differences. I don’t think we ever really understood each other. We were always at odds.”

All for One’s brother was definitely at odds with him. Izuku’s own quirk had let him see that for himself.

“Midoriya?”

“His notes show a tendency toward manipulation more than mass-murdering terror. I was wondering about that.”

Hisashi was nothing if not a manipulator. Hisashi, who spent an entire afternoon teaching Izuku political manipulation, who’d had contacts around the world that he pulled in with just the right information to help Izuku. Who had apparently been responsible for a lot of the positive PR Izuku currently enjoyed. Who, if any of this was true, had tricked Izuku from the moment he laid eyes on the man.

“Maybe he’s impersonating my father?” Izuku asked.

“We have All for One’s DNA results from Tartarus, thanks to Tsukauchi. I just need your permission for a paternity test.”

Izuku nodded mutely.

 

 

Izuku was waiting with Toshi when Aizawa personally brought the DNA results that tore Izuku’s world apart.

He was barely ashamed of crying into Toshi’s shoulder. He’d long given up the notion that heroes don’t cry, and if anything deserved tears, it was this. He pretended not to hear Toshi’s own sniffles.

“What am I supposed to do?” Izuku asked, once he was able to talk again. Aizawa had remained, a silent presence at Izuku’s other side on the well-used sofa. Gigantomachia had already been sent to guard the door and turn away anyone who showed up.

“I don’t know, Young Midoriya,” Toshi said quietly.

Aizawa snorted, and Toshi glared.

“You already know what to do, Problem Child. You said it yourself. If he wants to change, then help him change.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

Aizawa shrugged. “How many times have you been close enough to shoot him with quirk suppressants?”

Plenty of times, but… “That doesn’t mean he’ll sit there and let me hit him with them.”

“Young Midoriya is right. It’s far too dangerous to confront All for One, even if he’s… biologically related.”

Izuku flinched, and Toshi pulled him tighter against his shoulder.

“I’d say he’s offered every indication of genuinely trying to help the kid. If anyone can get that close, it’s him.”

“Help?” Toshi choked.

“The media. The UN. The… internet?” Izuku said, pulling away to find a tissue.

“I was suspicious of the decrease in criminal activity after you took power too,” Aizawa added. “A lot of the leads I was following to find the assassination threats disappeared not long after I heard about them. Criminals kept getting dropped off at police stations by anonymous vigilantes with no memories of what happened, usually around the same time as the disappearing leads.”

“Ujiko,” Izuku realized. The former doctor who’d once told Izuku he was quirkless. “From what we could tell, All for One just dropped him off at the nearest police station after he tried returning to his experiments. He claimed he hadn’t seen All for One since he left me in charge.”

“But it’s All for One,” Toshi said plaintively. Izuku couldn’t blame him. He felt the same way.

Aizawa rolled his eyes. “Denying the facts won’t help either of you. It doesn’t make him any less dangerous, but ignoring what’s in front of you won’t help take him down, if that’s your goal.”

Izuku sighed and pushed away from Toshi’s shoulder with a grimace. “You’re right,” he said. “I still need to decide what I’m going to do about him, but I need to be as prepared as possible for what he might do. Which, for all we know, might be offering tea and discussion before he disappears again.” That did seem to be his primary mode of operation when it came to Izuku and Inko. Well, he wasn’t sure about the tea, he’d been too young at the time to remember whether he’d offered Inko tea before he left. “Oh, and I need to talk to Gigantomachia. He definitely knew, and he didn’t say anything.”

At least this explained Gigantomachia’s strange behavior when it came to Hisashi’s signature, his silence in the man’s presence. His reaction to Izuku himself. “Little Master.” He suppressed a shiver.

Had the other villains known? No, he decided, they’d been confused themselves about All for One’s decision. Searching for All for One, wanting explanations. But - All for One had given them information about Izuku. There was Shirakumo’s creepy knowledge of what brands Izuku used at home. There were Shimura’s attempts at ingratiation. “I’ll tell you where all the best villain hideouts are. Sensei said you’d like that.” All for One’s avoidance of the former villains made so much more sense now.

Himiko Toga had disappeared after ranting about what she wanted to do to Izuku.

“I’m happy to help with that,” Aizawa growled, breaking his train of thought. It took Izuku a moment to realize he was talking about Gigantomachia. “Oh, and if you do settle things with the bastard peacefully? Tell him to give me my quirk back.”

“Of course.” Izuku nodded. That was a given.

 

 

Gigantomachia actually started crying when Izuku confronted him alongside Aizawa. Apparently, Izuku had earned his loyalty at some point along the way, resulting in split loyalties when Hisashi had appeared on the scene. Izuku wasn’t sure what to do with that information, and decided to send Gigantomachia off with Kirishima for the afternoon. For once, Gigantomachia complied without complaint.

That aside, Izuku had to understand exactly what he was walking into before he talked to Hisashi - All for One - so he decided to take a rare afternoon off and piece together the mystery of this… benefactor he’d strangely earned.

He couldn’t trust any of Hisashi’s reasoning for why he left Izuku and Inko. He couldn’t trust any of Hisashi’s stories whatsoever. But his actions - well. He had more information than ever, and more questions than ever regarding what All for One was up to.

Why had All for One given Izuku Japan? Why had Hisashi given Izuku his businesses? That still remained unanswered. What he did know is that All for One had been nearby the entire time, smoothing Izuku’s path and maybe even dealing with threats Izuku himself didn’t know about.

Maybe this was all part of a long-term plan All for One was enacting for some goal. If Izuku’s hypothesis that All for One was a master manipulator was correct, then it’d even be likely. Considering his notes, his twisting of Shimura, the way he told so many of his people different bits of information to play them against each other - Izuku had a feeling that he was right about that. Japan had a high crime rate, but it certainly hadn’t seen devastation of the same scale as Kamino Ward on a regular basis for the last two centuries; the government would be hard-pressed to keep covering those up if they’d been common. Hisashi had all but confirmed Izuku’s guess that he’d changed his methods in the last few decades - from subtler manipulation to blatant smirking, mass-murdering supervillainy.

He’d married a wife, had a son. When Izuku was eight, he’d fought All Might and was left for dead. After that, there were the Trigger experiments, the roughly-designed Noumu, brutish and braindead in contrast to the delicate work he’d done on Shirakumo. Still, until Kamino, he mostly worked by inspiring underlings to do his dirty work - likely his normal method of dealing with things, if Izuku had to guess. It was the same method he’d used 200 years ago, after all. Izuku still remembered the smirk on his face when he laughingly told his brother about the murders committed for his sake, all unasked-for. Then he’d broken his usual hands-off approach when he appeared at Kamino in response to an attack on his Noumu facility.

Izuku’s mind lingered on that. All for One had appeared at the Noumu facility… where Izuku was. Where pro heroes were launching an attack, a highly destructive attack that could’ve hit Izuku. The blowback alone left Izuku’s recent injuries aching. All for One had appeared not long after that and launched an attack that left only one wall standing - the one Izuku and his friends were behind.

Then he’d been arrested, escaped, and reappeared a few years later to take over Japan. Which he passed to Izuku.

“Family, to me, is… people I’d do anything to protect.”

But he hadn’t protected Izuku. He wasn’t there when the slime villain nearly killed Izuku. He wasn’t there when Izuku nearly died against Muscular or Overhaul. He wasn’t there when Izuku and his friends fought Re-Destro, a tense battle that might’ve so easily killed Izuku with one wrong move.

Then again, that was probably for the best, Izuku thought as he remembered the lengths All for One went to in order to “protect” his brother. Izuku was lucky he hadn’t been locked in a vault for his own good. He tried to ignore the irrational stab of hurt at the idea that Hisashi didn’t actually care, had been using him the entire time. He wasn’t looking for affection and care from All for One, no matter what fragile hope and affection had bloomed over Izuku’s time spent with Hisashi.

But it was important to know whether the man did care, if only because it could be potential leverage against the monster. And monster he was, whatever his past; the tortured experiments he’d created could be nothing but the products of someone lacking in morals.

Izuku was getting nowhere. He nearly knocked over his desk chair when he rose abruptly and stalked to the office next to his own where Toshi was usually occupied.

“Young Midoriya?”

There was no Aizawa now, no Gigantomachia outside the door and potentially listening with all-too-sensitive ears. “What should I do?” he asked Toshi again. There was no need to explain what Izuku was asking about, they both knew all too well.

Rather than a single sofa, Toshi had two sofas that faced each other over a coffee table. Izuku fell into one, and Toshi hurried over. If they’d been back at UA, Toshi would have unhesitatingly taken the other. Now, Toshi hesitated before settling next to Izuku. Izuku was glad; the closeness was comforting.

Toshi looked hesitant to speak, so Izuku continued.

“I know how much he hurt you. I can’t… I can’t just let that go. One for All’s legacy…”

“Me?” Toshi looked up in surprise. “I thought you’d be mad at him for your own sake.”

“I am. Well… maybe? The worst thing he’s done is leave, and considering who he is, that might have been for the best anyway. But he’s hurt so many people, and you most of all.” Izuku met his shadowy eyes. “It’s easier to forgive people for hurting me than for hurting others, anyway.”

Toshi looked at him, expression contemplative. “Vengeance or change,” he said softly.

“What?”

“I’ve been thinking. A year ago, I’d have said he needed to be taken down, no question. But now…” Toshi rubbed his neck. “You’ve made an impression, Young Midoriya, as you always do. Whatever you decide to do, I’ll support you. Even if that means All for One walks free. I know you’ll do what’s right.” He grimaced. “I’d prefer not to see you put yourself in danger by confronting him again, but he’s as much of a danger left where he is.”

True. All for One had Transmission; Izuku could’ve been brought to his side at any time, theoretically, considering their relation. Now that was a thought to keep him up at night. “It’s a lot of responsibility,” he said bitterly. “This could go so horribly wrong, no matter what I decide.”

“You always rise to the challenge, my boy.”

 

 

Let it never be said that Izuku did anything by halves.

He could’ve gone home for a family dinner, found a reason to get close to Hisashi, and stabbed him with quirk suppressants. He could’ve tried bringing a small army of heroes, strategically-placed around the meeting area, to attempt to suppress All for One should he turn violent. Those would probably be wiser things to do - as Izuku’s failed assassination attempt had demonstrated when this mess started, All for One was fully capable of detecting and suppressing Izuku alone should the need arise. (He probably used Search, the bastard. No wonder Izuku hadn’t been able to surprise him with that punch.)

Instead, Izuku chose to extend the same courtesy that All for One had initially offered to himself. No quirk suppression, no attempts at arrest would be issued unless things turned violent. Izuku would meet him alone. He’d probably never be able to take All for One down by force, so he’d opt for parley - it worked before, after all.

He sent the janitorial team to clean the familiar room in the Imperial Palace. He hadn’t told his friends yet; the only ones who knew were All Might and Aizawa. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever tell them. This wasn’t information that should be spread around, it’d undermine everything he’d done in his time as a leader if it were known that he was related to All for One.

In case things went wrong, Izuku made sure Toshi could take over the government in his place. He called his lawyers and made out a will to his mother and Toshi, leaving his assets split between them. If worse came to worst, at least Toshi wouldn’t be left in the same position Izuku had been - he had people and resources, the government reforms were complete or near completion, and elections would be held soon.

The only break in the serious atmosphere that haunted Izuku as he put his affairs in order was the list of All for One’s aliases Aizawa sent him. CoolMight9000? AllMight4Ever? This was just embarrassing. Reading a few posts where All for One supposedly played an unapologetic All Might fanboy was an otherworldly experience.

All too soon, though, there were no more reasons to delay. Hisashi hadn’t been in contact for the past few days. Izuku stared at his phone. He took a deep breath.

It was time to confront All for One again.

The ringing at the other end of the line spiked Izuku’s nerves even higher. He couldn’t tell if he was more relieved or terrified when All for One picked up the phone.

“This is Hisashi Midoriya.”

“I need to talk to you,” Izuku said without preamble.

A pause. “You know.”

“Yes.”

“When and where?”

Izuku closed his eyes. No going back now.

Notes:

Everyone's been expecting this reveal, and now it's finally here! Since it's now been properly revealed in-story, I'll probably toss the "All for One is Midoriya Hisashi" tag on here in a few days so people can find this fic easier.

The stuff about Norway is based in fact; they have the world's lowest crime rate and an incredibly humane criminal justice system - when I looked it up, the average prison sentence is 8 months and the maximum sentence is 21 years even for the worst crimes. It might even be considered too lenient, but it works. Restorative criminal justice, in general, tends to come up among the systems that result in the lowest amount of repeat offenders. While the VAP might be a bit idealistic, it's all based on demonstrably effective concepts.

While you wait for next week, may I suggest going back to Chapter 6 for a game of Find the All For One Sockpuppets? Some are more obvious than others, but he should really be embarrassed forever. I'll probably post an answer key next week in the chapter notes.

As always, thank you for your comments and kudos and bookmarks! I'm delighted that so many people enjoy this story.

Chapter 10: Great Choices

The scenario had a disturbing amount of familiarity to it. A familiar room, expensive tea, and Izuku wondering what to say to All for One sitting across from him.

He’d rehearsed for this. First, when he daydreamed about the chance to ask All for One what the hell he’d been thinking, and recently once he found out that Hisashi was All for One; but he couldn’t quite remember what he wanted to say.

“Well, Izuku, I’m here,” All for One said mildly. “How are you planning to deal with me?”

Izuku sighed. “I haven’t decided.”

“Oh?”

Izuku placed his teacup on the table. He hadn’t drank from it. “I have a lot of questions.”

“Fair.” All for One inclined his head. “What do you want to ask?”

“You’ll answer them? Honestly?” Izuku wasn’t sure if he’d trust All for One’s answers. But the fact that All for One was apparently offering was… nice.

“My answers so far have been entirely honest, Izuku. There were lies by omission, false implications, and questions I’ve deflected, but I’ve tried to hold myself to the literal truth; it’s the least you deserve from me. And since my greatest secret is out I have little reason to deflect questions any more. Yes, I will answer honestly.”

“The truth? Really? You left because Mom and I were threatened by… by you?” Izuku said bitterly.

“You’ll note that I allowed you to imagine the identity of the enemies in question for yourself, and let the facts I gave you support the idea.” All for One shrugged, sipping his tea. “The enemy I spoke of was All Might, and the threat to yourself was real enough.”

“He wouldn’t hurt me,” Izuku retorted belligerently.

“Maybe not. But you would have been taken from me at least, and potentially used as a hostage to bring me in line. Your reputation in society would have been permanently ruined before you even lived a decade, had the truth come out. As an adult, Inko would have been under suspicion of assisting in my activities - entirely unwarranted, I assure you. Your lives would have been destroyed due to my presence. At worst, if All Might tracked me to my home, you both might have been caught in the crossfire of the resulting battle. It would hardly be the first time civilians have been unfortunate casualties of our fights, and not all are entirely my fault. All Might was incapable of holding back against me. The buildings around us - and their occupants - sometimes suffered the consequences.”

“So you’re still saying you left for our sake?” It was hard to believe. “It’s not like you’re known for caring about people.”

“Obviously. I wouldn’t have bothered to get married if I didn’t care,” All for One said, annoyed. “Especially under my real name, with regular provisions of income. It’s not like I don’t have a plethora of options involving less personal investment if I should want women or offspring, or anything less permanent. No, Izuku, I would not have chosen to leave for any reason but necessity.”

Izuku nearly asked him why he even got married if that was the case, but stopped himself. No, there was an order to this, and he needed to follow it.

“I know what I want from you,” Izuku said. “I want your story.”

“Will it change anything?”

Good question. “Probably not. But I want to know what’s under the mask anyway.”

“It’s a long story,” All for One said.

“I have time. Well, I’ll make time.”

All for One nodded, and took another sip of tea. Izuku picked up his own teacup.

“I’ll still condense. I’ve had over 200 years of life experience, Izuku; that would be too much to cover in one afternoon. When you asked about my motivation previously, I told you it was spite toward the government and heroes. Accurate, but I didn’t start with spite.

“The history books are fond of glossing over the time when quirks first appeared, so allow me to paint a small picture of the world as it was then. The government at the time was perfectly within their rights to declare a state of emergency, I’m afraid. The witch hunts were astonishingly brutal. My own parents were casualties of one such hunt; for my own reasons I didn’t find them worthy of mourning, but it likely influenced my brother’s unkind attitude toward quirks. In some areas there was even a religious element to the persecution - children with quirks were considered ill omens, or evil spirits themselves. Despite the state of emergency, the government proved completely inadequate to deal with the unrest.

“Even so, I had a fascination with quirks from an early age and was more than delighted to discover my own. The exchanges I made were at first merely an opportunity to put my quirk to use. I didn’t have to sell my services. People sought me out to have quirks removed or to obtain the power I offered. But it was a dangerous time, and the help I was offered by the grateful beneficiaries seemed like a beacon of hope. I barely had to ask for loyalty or favors; they were freely offered by those who saw me as a savior. If I’d said the word, some would have worshipped me as a god.”

All for One examined his teacup contemplatively. “I was, of course, young and naive. Loyalty that has been paid for is not true loyalty, as I learned later. But the fact remains that it was a heady feeling to a youth who’d never experienced care and protection. I had an army of people who would do anything for me, should I say the word. I began to dream of a world where those with quirks and those without lived in peace, working together without violence. I had the power, I had the people - why not? I was the only one who could make it happen, after all, with my abilities.

“And I wanted my brother alongside me. I wanted him to live in a world at peace, where we weren’t separated by the societal rift quirks had created. He’d experienced the same parental neglect as I had, and I wanted him to experience the same joy when people looked to me as their salvation. My brother disagreed, and things… escalated.”

“You locked him in a vault, tried to persuade him, and gave him a quirk in a bid to convince him of the benefits of quirks,” Izuku summed up. He decided to ignore the part about ruling together for now; that cut dangerously close to the current situation, and Izuku wanted All for One to continue his story.

All for One blinked. “You’re remarkably well-informed, aren’t you.”

“One for All,” Izuku said as explanation. “I had some visions a few years ago. They showed me a few things.”

“That… is not an effect of that quirk I’ve heard about before.” All for One leaned forward in interest.

Izuku waved him away. “Maybe I’ll tell you about it later. Why the vault? You can’t have expected to persuade him of your good intentions by locking him up.”

“I could hope. But no, there were extenuating circumstances. My name had been leaked, and his safety was… not assured.” All for One grimaced. “Certain anti-quirk factions were fond of targeting the families of those with quirks, of which I was Enemy Number One. My brother had previously proven unwilling to listen to warnings regarding his safety. The public violence reached the point where I was no longer assured of my ability to protect him from a distance, as I had before. Giving him a quirk afterward was as much in an attempt to let him protect himself when I released him back into the wild as it was to convince him that quirks weren’t the evil he thought they were. It was, in retrospect, a hasty decision, and one that perhaps drove the final wedge between us. I chose a different route in my attempt to protect you and your mother, for all the good it did me.”

“It failed,” Izuku murmured. “All Might found me anyway through sheer coincidence and gave me One for All.”

“You ended up recklessly endangering yourself in much the same way, and at odds with me due to my activities,” All for One said. “Yes, things ended up much the same as with my brother. However, you have proven more open to discussion than he ever was, and I have had literal centuries to think about my mistakes back then.”

All for One lapsed into a meditative silence. Izuku refilled their teacups. All for One shook himself and continued.

“The government instituted the new hero program shortly after that, likely in an attempt to deal with myself. They also instituted the quirk regulations that were in place until recently. My brother joined the program, and the repeated conflicts eventually ended in his death, likely due to his diminishing strength after giving away his quirk. I was left with nothing but an empty ideal, worthless without someone to share it with. At that point it all turned to spite. The government, and my brother, saw quirks as things to be controlled. They’d failed to keep the peace in the first place and chose brute force as the solution only when I presented a genuine, organized threat to their power. It was somewhat hypocritical of me to look down on their use of brute force when it was the main method used by my own followers, but I was angry and grieving and not prone to examining my own logic at the time.”

All for One sipped his refilled tea and then placed the cup on the table. “I decided to prove them wrong. I was sure my vision was possible, and I would see it fulfilled.”

Izuku wondered when a vision of building a better future had turned into destroying Japan, but he refrained from asking.

“I didn’t know about One for All’s unique ability to be passed on until the man my brother passed his quirk to showed up at my doorstep, claiming to be my brother’s successor. Quirks tend to change form when passed between users, but I was well experienced with the common mutations and recognized it quickly. The quirk was relatively weak then,” All for One mused. “I chose the stockpiling quirk specifically because it was gentle enough for my weak brother to use without injury. It’s much the opposite now. It wasn’t a threat, and so I mostly ignored the continuing chain of One for All wielders who popped up every so often. If they made themselves a problem I’d deal with them, but otherwise they weren’t worth the bother of putting an end to them. They were mild annoyances and I had more important things to worry about.

“After I finally admitted to the failure of my initial methods, I turned to study. Government, history, politics, social psychology. Many of the notes I left you were written during that time. I’ve made a habit of revisiting and updating them over the years.”

“They really are almost two hundred years old,” Izuku said in quiet awe. “Several lifetimes of work.” Maybe the notes were created by a supervillain, but there was still something awe-inspiring about it.

“They are. As you might imagine, my study illuminated many of my mistakes. For example, my failure to control my own followers resulted in a loss of opportunities to solve problems through diplomacy, thereby losing potential allies. I tried many different methods of fulfilling my dream over the years. In my first attempts I used quirks to change my face, got a new identity, and ran for political positions several times. I discovered the government corruption through my misadventures as a cog in the machine. I quickly gave up on changing things from the inside, and moved on to business ownership.”

All for One smiled grimly. “Money talks, and it was a relatively more successful endeavor than politics. Why be a politician when I could exploit the corruption and buy politicians? I was able to make a significant dent in the unemployment of discrimination victims - my businesses have always been safe havens for such people. It’s hardly complete societal change, but they were microcosms of how my dream was supposed to work. Hence why it’s my longest-running project.” All for One sighed contentedly.

Izuku nearly felt vertigo at the pride in All for One’s voice. All for One had spent so long building his business empire, and then had given it to Izuku. Had spent so long trying to take over the government, and then given it to Izuku. Why?

“It was only with time and practice that I learned the art of a subtler touch, and the government never trusted my existence. It was often easy to sympathize with the dregs of society, beaten down and scorned until they rose up to fight the heroes who saw them as nothing but villains. Heroes were the brutish enforcers of an abusive system. I was all too happy to turn my abilities against them in defense of such people.”

“Even when they threatened and murdered innocent people?” Izuku asked with fake nonchalance.

“I’ve never been particularly strong in the ethics department, I’ll admit,” All for One said. “I would say that they served as sacrifices, showcasing the failings of the pathetic system they were supposed to be protected by, but I doubt you’ll be persuaded by such philosophical drivel. It’s difficult to care when people die every day without my involvement. I was raised in a world of violence, and so it has continued ever since.” He shrugged. “Protecting everyone was an idealistic goal I ditched in my childhood. I’ve chosen to focus my energies on the few I thought worthy of it. Considering my success in those endeavors, protection is obviously not my strong suit.”

Izuku resisted the urge to facepalm. He’d have a far easier time protecting people if he didn’t go around murdering and making enemies.

“But back to my story. My existence was always a thorn in the government’s side, though it was rare that I resorted to violence myself. It was mostly a side project - I’d offer my support to those who had the greatest capability to annoy the government and its heroes, while I focused on my primary projects of trying to maneuver myself into enough power to enact the changes I sought. I would rather have done so without violence; my studies made it obvious that dictators who took power through force have historically been the targets of revolutions themselves.”

Something had changed, something relatively recent. “Then All Might actually started being a problem, right?”

“Very perceptive. Yes; All Might was the first to prove any sort of challenge to me,” All for One said. “In retrospect I should have taken the time to wipe out One for All before it became a problem, given its nature as a stockpiling quirk and the obvious growth in power over time. I still don’t know why it turned into such a powerhouse with All Might; perhaps it’s because the energy was directly accessed, rather than being partially used to boost another quirk.”

If this conversation went well, Izuku very much wanted to have a discussion with him about One for All’s unique properties. For now… “You changed your methods when All Might became a nuisance that wasn’t so easily squashed, didn’t you?”

All for One nodded. “There’s only so far that subtlety will get you when the delicate web you’ve woven is easily smashed by an overwhelming amount of brute force. For all my dislike of him, I must admit that All Might was persistent and terrifyingly good at tracking down my operations. I lost a large portion of my supporters through my lack of success at suppressing a single hero. It was infuriating. One of my vices has always been pettiness; it’s been a luxury I’ve generally been able to afford. I chose to demonstrate that I was fully capable of as much violence as he delivered, rather than doing the sensible thing and taking him out in his sleep or using other, cleaner methods of dealing with him.”

Now Izuku did facepalm. “Really? You let things go on as long as they did over… over a dick measuring contest? Didn’t you tell me yourself those were idiotic?”

All for One looked sheepish. It was difficult to associate the expression with a supervillain, though Izuku had seen it before on Hisashi.

“I never said I wasn’t an idiot,” All for One muttered. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Izuku, but while age brings knowledge and time to reflect on the idiocies of one’s youth, it does not in fact cure idiocy. But I digress. After several scuffles, I decided to attempt to lose the man by taking up legitimate employment in one of my many businesses for a time. It worked for a while. During that time I met your mother. She’s a truly remarkable woman,” he sighed dreamily.

Izuku really didn’t want to hear about that. His expression must have said as much, because All for One continued after a pause. “I will spare you the details. Suffice to say that it ended up being simple; I fell for a wonderful woman, we married, and you were born. Holding you for the first time was the proudest moment of my life.”

Izuku felt vaguely nauseated. He could hear the wonder and delight in All for One’s voice.

“All Might, however, refused to give up his search, and finally tracked me down when you were nearly four. I left in an attempt to head him off. I considered dealing with him immediately through one of the more… sensible methods, but I was aware that he passed the information he collected to others and I needed to ensure that they were thoroughly sidetracked before All Might conveniently disappeared. I arranged failsafes. Tenko Shimura made an excellent potential hostage in reserve should you and Inko be discovered, as much as a way to spite All Might.

“There was also the fact that being forced into activity again helped me decide on an issue I’d been unsure about. I might have been content to live peacefully with my family, but from the very beginning my goal was never for the sake of society itself. I had a family again; if there was ever a time to bring about my vision for Japan it was now, when I could give you a better world than I’d had. So I decided to enact one of my more violent plans for government overthrow, since it was likely to be more expedient.”

“Didn’t you rule out the violent overthrow before?” Izuku said uneasily.

All for One chuckled. “I wouldn’t do it personally. There are plenty of historical examples of people bowing to dictators when they present themselves as peace and salvation from societal upheaval. My problem before is that I was presented as one of the causes of that upheaval. But should a more subtle method be taken - should someone else serve as the figurehead of the violence, and should I be the savior where all others failed…”

“That’s how Shimura was supposed to be your successor,” Izuku realized, eyes widening. “He was supposed to take over Japan in your place - or as close to it as he could manage - and you’d jump in to save the day from someone ridiculously unstable and unpopular. It’s the exact same strategy you used to make me a dictator who was popular with the public.”

“It’s an effective strategy when utilized properly,” All for One said. “Not my first plan, though. That was ruined when I ultimately failed in our fight when you were eight. I spent years recovering, desperately scrambling to rearrange my plans to account for my grievously injured state. At that point, subtle quirks were entirely out - the brain injuries left me incapable of using quirks that required any level of fine control. Tenko became an unexpected asset in one of my fallback plans. Everything was nearly back on track, and I sent Tenko to deal with All Might as one of his tests, when it all derailed again.”

“Because All Might found me?” Izuku guessed.

“Indeed. It was my brother all over again - you had the same quirk, you’d joined the same abominable system, and in the tradition of One for All wielders I was surely set up as your primary nemesis. You proved remarkably skilled at interfering with Tenko’s plans, even as an untrained child with an absurdly damaging quirk you could barely use. Then Kamino Ward happened. You were at a facility you should never have been at, in the path of heroes who were entirely unconcerned about the potential collateral damage of knocking down the building you’d tried to infiltrate. I planned to show up anyway, but I will confess that I panicked. I was already upset about All Might giving you One for All. So I misjudged the situation and lost that fight as well.”

All for One’s voice grew quiet. “I had a lot of time to think in Tartarus. I felt every bone you broke, every time you nearly died - did die, during what I presume was your fight with Overhaul. I considered escaping several times, but while the quirk suppressants were ineffective, they still diminished my abilities to a dangerous extent until I developed an immunity. The quirks keeping my brain functions fully operational were some of those. My mind wandered, I even heard my brother’s voice several times.

“I still planned during my lucid periods. No matter what I thought of, I could see very few ways to stop you from walking in my brother’s footsteps and sharing in his fate. It was even more imperative that the hero system was destroyed. Even with me out of the picture, thanks to your penchant for throwing yourself into danger and injury, you’d likely burn yourself out at an early age or get yourself killed against some villain. If I delegated the task of taking over Japan to someone else they’d kill you, or you’d dismantle the plan entirely before it reached fruition.

“Still, I had to do something. So I escaped from prison with a half-formed idea. I found a quirk to restore my health, beat those who worked for me into a semi-suitable shape to serve in the government, and observed you. In doing so, I finally found a solution to the problem that had been plaguing me.”

Izuku shivered as All for One met his eyes.

“I’m not sure you realize how amazing you are, Izuku. You watch and listen far better than most people I’ve ever met, take the working parts of other people’s strategies and make them your own. You care about people for their own sake, but without naivete; you’re willing to use people if that’s what it takes to accomplish your goals. You use your power as a tool, never letting it go to your head. You’re incredibly perceptive. I’ve seen you in so many situations where I could only see a few outcomes, none of them ideal, yet you found a way to bring about an entirely different outcome that even I couldn’t see. I’m a good judge of people, if I may say so, and you had every trait needed to bring about the right sort of change. I’d spent most of my life wanting a better world out of spite; if you chose to create one, it would be with far better motives and understanding.

“So I decided to gamble everything on making you the core of my plans rather than myself. It was the best solution I could come up with, if it worked. I’ll admit that it was difficult to trust anyone to such an extent, but I thought that if it was you, then I could try. The very idea was high-risk, high-reward. I decided it was worth the effort to mitigate the potential damages as long as it succeeded.

“And it did.” All for One spread his hands, a wide grin stretching across his face. “You’ve done what I never could, Izuku, in just a few months. It’s the best risk I’ve ever taken. And so I passed along the rest of my work - the parts that succeeded - because I trust you’ll do a better job there, as well. My life’s work is complete, all thanks to you.”

Izuku scrambled to process the information. “You deliberately failed as a leader so I could look better. All that suffering, just so…” He struggled for breath.

The smile faded from All for One’s face. “It was effective,” he said.

“That doesn’t make it right.”

All for One shrugged, and Izuku wanted to hit him. He should survive One for All at 50%, right?

“Then you spent the last few months on… stealth publicity stunts and vigilante work?”

“And crochet. I think the blanket I’ve been working on would be an excellent addition to the sofa in your office. I swear I took great pains to abide by your new laws on all of the above.”

“Really? No illegal activities?”

“You… might want to check the National Diet Building for bugs.” All for One’s eyes were carefully focused on a point behind Izuku. “And get a new phone.”

Izuku stared at him. “You invaded my privacy!”

“It’s not my fault no one bothered to check the place. Gigantomachia should have noticed, with his telecommunications studies. And I technically did pay for the phone when it was purchased.”

“No, you don’t get to pawn this off on someone else,” Izuku said, making a mental note to yell at Gigantomachia later. “I suppose this is the best behavior I could’ve expected from you. I can’t believe you took up crocheting, of all things.”

“What can I say? After all my failed attempts at building a better world, I thought I’d try creating something I could manage for a change,” All for One said sourly. “I must say, if I’m to be upstaged, you’re the one I’d choose to do it.”

Not idle words; he’d literally chosen Izuku to do it, if everything he’d said was correct. Izuku stood and paced to the window, gazing over the garden and focusing on the distant crater where he’d first tried to land a blow on All for One. He felt eyes following him.

All for One was right in the beginning, his story didn’t change anything about Izuku’s choice regarding how to deal with him. But it did give Izuku an idea of his weaknesses and goals, and that was important.

“You’re a danger to society,” Izuku said bluntly. “Even if I’ve fulfilled your goals, that doesn’t mean you won’t get dissatisfied again. You’re immortal, and I can’t even guarantee my reforms will last through next year. You’ve proven willing to go to horrible lengths out of spite.” Izuku turned, idly observing how his position cast a shadow across the room.

All for One met his eyes with intense focus.

“You said that supervillains are human. They have goals, and they work to accomplish those just like everyone else. I can believe that. As twisted as you’ve made it, from what you’ve said, your goal has always been family.” Izuku walked toward him slowly. “And you’ve failed miserably. You abandoned us, you failed in all your attempts to protect us, we’ve torn down your plans because you in your own self-righteousness thought you knew what was best for us. What would make us happy. You’re as inflexible as your brother was, and because of that you lost everything once. You nearly lost everything again.”

All for One seemed to shrink with every step. He cringed by the time Izuku stood over him.

“You said it yourself, you’re an idiot,” Izuku continued mercilessly. “You admire me for my ability to listen? You put me in charge of Japan because you thought I’d do a better job than you? Well, let me ask you this, Hisashi. Are you willing to listen?”

“Yes?” All for One said, voice cracking. Izuku barely managed to keep a straight face.

“Do you know what world I wanted to live in when I was a child? One where my father was home. Where my family would tell me that being quirkless wasn’t the end of the world. Where Mom didn’t cry because her husband was gone, and I didn’t have to wonder if my father abandoned us because he was disappointed in me.” Izuku jabbed All for One in the chest with a finger. He looked stricken. “Make all the excuses you like, but going around killing people makes you and those close to you targets, so it’s your choices that led to All Might targeting you - not his and not the government’s.”

“I know,” the man said in a voice so quiet that Izuku barely heard him.

“No matter what reasons you have, I deserved better, and Mom deserved better.” Izuku was starting to rant. “We wanted your presence, not some crazy ideal where we’d rule beside you in some utopia you made. I’d bet your brother would’ve been happier with that, too.”

“It’s too late to try that, I suppose.”

“Yeah, it is,” Izuku confirmed. He took a deep breath and let it out to calm himself. “You really don’t deserve any sort of mercy. But I did say it wasn’t about forgiveness or deserving; I’d extend my hand to whoever was willing to take it. And I plan to stick by that.”

Izuku had never seen a man so gobsmacked. “Really?”

“You said you wanted to retire. So do it. No criminal activity or being an accessory to criminal activity, no plans to fix society, no invasions of privacy. No doing things behind people’s backs or against their consent, no matter how much you think it’s for their own good. You’ll give back whatever quirks you stole that have still-living owners, and you’ll fix any other damages you’ve inflicted on people that you’re capable of repairing. If you feel the need to ‘fix’ something about society and absolutely can’t let it go, you come to me. You trusted me with Japan, so I expect you to trust me with that much. In return I’ll trust you to abide by your word.” It was one of the hardest things he’d ever do, and probably completely stupid, but All for One had demonstrated the benefits of high-risk, high-reward plans. All for One had put an impossible amount of trust in Izuku; it was worth trying the same.

“You’re serious.”

“You’ll also join the Villain Amnesty Program. I’ll sponsor you myself. We’re starting with a remedial ethics course.”

“And if I turn down your generous offer?” All for One said, a challenging note in his voice.

“I don’t think you understand, Hisashi.” Izuku leaned in, uncomfortably close to the man’s face. He hoped it was as uncomfortable for Hisashi as it was for him. “You’re definitely powerful, but you’ve found it impossible to accomplish your own goals with centuries of effort. Reject me now, and you’ll have me as your opponent. You could retake Japan and watch it slip through your grasp because of all the reasons you struggled to get it in the first place. You could kill me, proving once and for all that for all your fine thoughts of doing things for family, the only person you ever cared for was yourself. You’d live with that knowledge for the rest of your life as you’ve lived with your spite so far. You could run, and I’d hunt you down. I’m even more determined and perceptive than All Might, I bet I could manage it. Then you’d be forced to fight me, and watch me succumb to the same fate as your brother. Yet another monument to your incompetence.”

Izuku straightened and reached out a hand. “Or you can take the second chance I’m offering. I promise you, it’s the best offer a mass-murdering supervillain is likely to get from me. Who knows,” Izuku said, with a fierce grin. “Maybe you’ll make good enough use of the chance that you can fix something and keep your family, for once.”

Hisashi reached for Izuku’s hand and wrapped his fingers around it tightly. Izuku ignored the tear trickling its way down the side of Hisashi’s face. “I accept,” he said softly.

Notes:

Epilogue/wrapping up loose ends for the next chapter! A big reason why I chose to write this story rather than leaving it as one of the many random ideas that floats through my head is because I had this scene in mind from the beginning, and it was immensely helpful to have a clear mental picture of where this all was going.

Here's an answer key for Find the All for One Sockuppets:
All of the coolmight9xxx accounts
MightyMan787878
allmightforever (he should REALLY be embarrassed forever)
I ❤ Supreme Overlord Deku @herofangirl105

Those were the planned ones. However, I kinda like the headcanons that iAmHeRe, Another Hero Fan @bemyherobaby, and Mount Me Lady @mountmelady are All For One sockpuppets, so you know what? Headcanon away.

As always, I vastly appreciate the comments, kudos and bookmarks! Writing and posting this thing has VERY much been worth it, I should do this more often. :)

Chapter 11: Great Legacy

One Week Later

“Toshi, I have a… request to make,” Izuku started uneasily.

“What is it, my boy?”

“I really hate to ask this, but I’d like you to run for Prime Minister.” Izuku immediately handed him a tissue for the sprayed blood.

“Why?” Toshi gasped out when the coughing subsided.

“There’s only so much I can do as a dictator,” Izuku said seriously. “I can reorganize the government, create laws that still work when Japan reverts to a representative democracy - but I can’t be the one to make sure Japan keeps those laws afterward. I can’t legally amend the Constitution to account for the deaths of the Imperial Family and add quirks to the anti-discrimination laws. And I need to let Japan stand on its own, without me micromanaging it, so this isn’t something I can do myself. But that doesn’t mean I can’t ask someone I trust to help me.”

“I suppose I could try,” Toshi said slowly. “If anyone will vote for a washed-up old has-been.”

“Are you kidding? Japan loves you. That’s at least half the reason they accepted me.” Izuku smiled at him encouragingly. “You know what you’re doing, and you’d be great at the job. I know it’s a lot of work, but… Japan needs a Symbol of Peace to let them know everything will be alright with the new government.”

“You’ve already been that, my boy,” Toshi said, “but I’ll do it anyway.”

 

 

“Supreme Overlord. I am sorry to bother you, but I request your… assistance.”

Izuku put down his pen. “What is it, Shirakumo?”

“Minister of Intelligence Aizawa is acting strangely. He keeps staring at me and asking me if I remember anything.” The smoke wisped off of him in a way that Izuku interpreted as flustered.

“Ah. He got his quirk back, and he’s probably trying it out.” Izuku couldn’t believe how shy Hisashi had been about actually meeting Aizawa face-to-face, but Izuku had rejected his initial idea of returning the quirk while Aizawa was asleep.

“He… he did?”

“Yeah. So it doesn’t work on you?” Izuku leaned forward in interest. “Your smoke must be a mutation quirk of some sort. What was the original warp quirk, then? Did it allow body parts to become portals? Whatever the combination was, there’s incredible synergy. You probably wouldn’t be able to warp with Aizawa-sensei’s quirk active, but I wonder…”

“Ah, thank you very much, Supreme Overlord. If that’s the case, then there should be no problems. I apologize for bothering you.”

Izuku frowned as Shirakumo whisked out the door. Unethical as the experiments done on Shirakumo were, there were so many ideas to explore in combining quirks. Maybe he’d bother Hisashi about those later.

 

 

Izuku couldn’t believe he was actually doing this.

“Kirishima, it’s you against whoever wins this,” he said sourly.

“Cool, man!”

Izuku sighed. He really should’ve shut this down, not joined it. But even Iida stopped by the basement sparring ring sometimes. Izuku was outnumbered. If that was the case, he might as well take advantage of it, as well as see Gigantomachia’s skills in action.

“Let’s both try not to knock down the building,” Izuku told Gigantomachia, who stood across from him.

“Agreed, Supreme Overlord.”

At least he wouldn’t have to use that terrible title for much longer.

“Three, two, one, go!” yelled Uraraka from the sidelines.

---

One Year Later

“Toshi? What the hell happened?!”

“Well, Young Midoriya -” Toshi began, rubbing his neck.

“I thought the bill was to amend the Constitution to remove the ceremonial role of Emperor, not… not replace it with a Supreme Overlord title!” Izuku wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry hysterically. Either way, it would be hysterically. He thought Japan would’ve had quite enough of that title by now.

“They proposed a counter-bill in your honor, and it works well enough. They even made it an elected position and gave it some power.” Toshi patted his shoulder. It was rare that Toshi had time off as Prime Minister, and Izuku was busy trying to reorganize his business empire and resuming his career as a hero. They still tried to meet as often as possible, though. Today they were on a bench in the gardens of the still-unused Tokyo Imperial Palace.

“Really? Elected?” Izuku said.

“Well… they wanted to instate you and make it hereditary, but I convinced them otherwise.”

“Toshi, you will always be my Number One hero,” Izuku said faintly.

 

 

Izuku still hated press conferences.

He wore a smile anyway as he stepped up to the podium temporarily set up in front of the building behind him. He waited for the applause to end. “Thank you, everyone, for your support. Today the Villain Amnesty Program officially ends, and I am proud to announce the public opening of the Second Chance Foundation.”

As members of the public, the participants who’d finally left the program were still welcome to use the provided resources. But the bulk had already passed their reviews. The Second Chance Foundation no longer needed to focus solely on the remainder.

“When I first announced that I was establishing this foundation, and its original purpose, I feared that the Japanese people would see it as a betrayal - offering aid to the undeserving. Instead, people across the nation have offered their support, and I can only be grateful to all of you who believed in my dream. Now, I’m delighted to open the services of this foundation to anyone who needs them. To the deserving, to the undeserving, to those who need another chance or were never given a chance at all, to anyone who can use a little help to find their footing - I welcome you to these doors.

“We already established branches in all major cities, but I’m proud to announce that the Second Chance Foundation will soon be starting its rural program, a joint effort headed by Kouji Kouda and Tenko Shimura. In Japan’s lengthy state of crisis, rural areas have been neglected…”

---

Fifteen Years Later

“Hello, Toshi.” Izuku laid his head on the table, eyeing the teacup next to his head.

“You don’t seem happy, Izuku. Is this about…”

“The call for me to run for Prime Minister? Yes.” Izuku turned his head to groan into the table.

“Why now? People have been calling for your election for years.”

“Well, you know I’ve been busy. And I didn’t really want to go back into the government. But Hisashi was getting antsy about some of the new regulations, and I don’t want my work to be undone, either. I… have a better idea of what I’m doing now.”

“My boy, you shouldn’t push yourself into it if you don’t want to. You wanted to learn to trust others to handle things without you, right?”

Izuku made a frustrated noise and sat up. “Yes, well, it’s a way to help people, and it’s hard to resist that.”

“Because heroes help.”

“Yeah. It took me a while to realize, but I think I helped a lot more people when I was nineteen than I ever have as… as a hero. We’ve got prisons that are completely empty now, Toshi, and when was the last time a train was held up because of a villain attack? Now the Second Chance Foundation can run without me, and Hisashi’s behaving well enough to leave him alone for a few weeks if I need to, and people listen to me. I don’t want to be All for One and force my own way on everyone, and I won’t - I put the checks and balances there myself - but I want to see if I can give Japan… one final push in the right direction.”

“You’ve always been a hero in everything you’ve done, Izuku, and always will be. I’m so proud of you, and if this is what you want I’ll support you till my last breath.” Toshi smiled gently and patted his shoulder. Izuku smiled back; the gesture always made him feel young again. Toshi was aging, but Izuku was glad he was still here. He probably wouldn’t be, if Eri hadn’t offered to turn back time on his injuries about ten years ago. Izuku was glad he’d accepted.

“How have things been with Hisashi, anyway?” Toshi changed the subject.

Izuku grimaced. “He’s fine, mostly. I’m worried that he’s getting bored. At this rate I’m going to make him open a shop just to get rid of the blankets he’s stockpiling, and he goes through so much yarn. He’s experimenting with the best quirk combinations to crochet faster.”

“At least it’s not the worst thing he could be doing.”

“There is that. I should probably find him another hobby for when I’m running for Prime Minister, so he doesn’t get bored enough to start internet PR campaigns or consider vigilantism. Again.”

“Has he considered writing?”

“That’s at the top of my list, actually.”

 

 

“Todoroki! It’s good to see you. So what did you want to meet up for?” Izuku smiled as Todoroki took a seat at the outdoor cafe.

“I heard you were running for Prime Minister. How would you feel about me aiming for Secretary of State?”

“Oh,” said Izuku, eyes widening. “That would be perfect, actually.” Todoroki would be a great ally. He’d worked as a hero for a while, but Izuku knew he’d never given up on his passion for hero reform. “Want to try to instate that watchdog organization you were telling me about?”

“One of the things I’ve been working on, yes. My brothers and I have been talking…”

 

 

“Kirishima, I’m not sure I heard you right. Did you just say that Gigantomachia applied to be a hero?”

“Yeah, man,” Kirishima said. “He thinks he’d be good at it. I thought you said something to him, he was talking about how his ‘Master’ was talking about how it’d be helpful to clean up some criminal activity he was too busy to handle. That’s you, right?”

Izuku massaged his temples. He needed to have a talk with Hisashi. He could already hear the man’s excuse that he wasn’t encouraging criminal activity, and inspiring one person to take up a legitimate line of work wasn’t influencing society.

“He probably would be good at it,” Izuku reluctantly agreed.

 

 

“Aizawa-sensei? What are you doing here? Not that it isn’t good to see you, but…”

“I think you could stop calling me Sensei at this point, kid.”

“You don’t understand how much I can’t do that. Why don’t you come in?” Izuku opened the door to his house wider. He didn’t usually invite people in thanks to the presence of the resident supervillain (even if retired), but Aizawa already knew about him, and was unimpressed. Izuku thought that was mostly due to the blackmail he held in the form of certain internet posts.

“Thank you.” He followed Izuku to the living room.

“Give us a minute,” Izuku said to the busily crocheting cryptid, who grimaced and left.

“Alright, Midoriya,” Aizawa said when Hisashi was out of the room, though everyone involved knew the man was probably listening anyway. “I know you’re a businessman, and I was wondering if you’ve ever considered investing in cat cafes.”

“Cat cafes.”

“The one I’m currently at is getting a bit crowded, and they’re thinking of opening another branch. I’d like to run it as a sort of… retirement project,” Aizawa said. “They’re doing good work, and Shirakumo, Yamada, and Kayama all want to help out.”

“There’s got to be more to this than a cat cafe,” Izuku said suspiciously.

Aizawa’s grin widened. “On a… perhaps related note, I think it’s time I introduce you to my information network.”

---

Thirty Years Later

“Deku! You look like you haven’t aged a day!” Uraraka jumped in to hug him.

Izuku laughed at her joking tone and hugged her back.

“Midoriya! Having a class reunion was a wonderful idea,” Iida said, joining them.

“I thought it was time, and it was partly Momo’s idea anyway,” Izuku said with a smile. “We haven’t seen each other in so long.” He looked around the room. “Did… Kouda bring Shimura?”

“Indeed! He thought socialization apart from farmers and farm animals would do Shimura good.”

“And Bakugou didn’t complain?” Bakugou had stopped threatening the ex-villains every time he saw them, but that didn’t mean he treated them any more pleasantly than he did anyone else. He’d never quite got over his dislike of Shimura especially. Though, rather than yelling, he’d just avoided Shimura ever since Shimura apologized for kidnapping him.

“Kirishima went to calm him down!” Uraraka said. “But I think Bakugou’s fine with it. He just told Shimura to stay out of his way and stomped over to the food.”

“That went better than I’d have expected.”

“DEKUUUU!” he heard from the corner near the food.

“It sounds like he noticed me. Give me a minute.”

 

 

“An autobiography. You want to write an autobiography.” Izuku threw his hands in the air. “What if someone actually reads it?”

“That is generally the purpose of publishing books, Izuku,” Hisashi said calmly. “I’ve finished the textbooks on business theory. I thought I’d try something else for a change.”

Izuku took a deep breath, let it out, calmed himself, and thought. It probably wasn’t as bad as it first sounded. “I guess there isn’t much harm as long as you leave out anything sensitive. And information that could cause societal upheaval. And the fact that you owned half of the businesses in Japan. I want to proofread before you send it to anyone.” Izuku had spent years selling the businesses a few at a time, keeping careful track of the owners. Societal views on quirk discrimination were slowly being revolutionized, but there was still danger of people losing their jobs should the wrong person buy the businesses in question.

“Of course.”

Izuku sighed. “This is such a terrible idea but I can’t pin down why.”

---

One Hundred Years Later

The professor flipped to the next slide in the presentation and continued to drone on.

“Supreme Overlord Midoriya’s humanitarian outreach, the Second Chance Foundation, stands to this day as Japan’s top charity organization. It operates independently of the government, but as it was originally a political institution, it’s inspired many changes in the political atmosphere of Japan - though of course not as much as Supreme Overlord Midoriya himself. Despite the origin of the title, most continue to associate it with his work rather than that of its original bearer.

“Seen here is a picture of Midoriya at the age of nineteen, the same age he was when he took the reins of power…”

A few minutes later, two young men left the classroom alongside the rest of the noisy horde of college students.

“Supreme Overlord Midoriya is actually pretty cool, I did a paper on him in high school,” one of them said. “We still use a lot of his reforms. The man must’ve been a genius.”

“I’m sure he had help,” the other said.

“Yeah, but - he did all that in a few months. While he was nineteen. He looks so young in all the pictures, too. If I saw him in the hallways I’d think he was just another student. And then he just… does all that.”

His friend laughed. “So you’re saying you wouldn’t want Japan dumped in your lap?”

“Nah, can you imagine? Supreme Overlord Yamazaki just doesn’t have the right ring to it. Couldn’t even run for the elected version we’ve got nowadays, who’d vote for that?”

“It’s a stupid title anyway.” His friend winked, brown eyes flickering to green for just a moment. “But maybe you should try. Who knows? You might make history too.”

Notes:

Who is the 'friend' in the last scene? Izuku's descendant? Izuku himself? Someone else, completely unrelated or not? Dear readers, I leave it up to you to decide for yourselves.

With that, this story is complete! Thank you, everyone, for reading. Not too bad for my little winter break project, eh?

But seriously, a big thank you to all those who read and enjoyed, and especially to those who lefts comments and kudos and bookmarks. This has been a blast to share.

Edit: I decided to write a few bits of trivia I couldn't address properly in this fic and throw them on my tumblr, if that interests anyone!

Another edit: Trivia Part 2 can be found here.

Notes:

This is a rather self-indulgent piece of fiction. I don't know the fine details of how governments work, I haven't studied politics, I made most of this up as I went along with some frantic late-night research. I tried to make it at least a bit realistic, but there was a lot of hand-waving and "it just works" involved. If you know more about how those things work, then forgive my ignorance. The story is finished, though, so it's not being modified now for anything more than typos.

I posted the premise for this story in a Discord group and then decided to write it myself. If you see the concept used elsewhere, it's used by permission.

Many thanks to my lovely betas who helped beat this thing into better shape and told me that my writing was worth reading. Also many thanks to the others who encouraged me to write. You rock.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Great Responsibility