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What You Deserve (respect)

Summary:

Izuku has never been in Principal Nedzu’s office before, but a vague office-like space housing the rodent featured heavily in his dreams.

They were mostly nightmares; for whatever reason, Nedzu got involved with the investigation into Izuku’s vigilante activities, instantly figured out his identity and was gleefully telling him he’d never become a hero.

Logically, Izuku knew this wasn’t going to happen. Eraserhead - Aizawa-sensei - wouldn’t bring him all the way to the UA if the principal was going to reject him. But logic had no place in his mind right then, all the space having been taken up by anxiety.

***

Written as a part of the NWA's Fic Fights

Notes:

I originally started writing it to another prompt, but it didn't vibe well, and at some point I've realized - hang on, you know what would work really well? Szeh's #10. So that's which prompt it lands under.

You shouldn't have to read the previous two parts to understand this, since that's the whole requirement of being able to post it and have the points count, but I'd deeply appreciate it if you did :pfft:

As always, though I do believe I've forgotten to write this in at least a few of the latest fics, any and all typoes are due to my keyboard's newest attempts at expressing itself.

Ah, another thing I've forgotten to mention: the bit with the grades was inspired by the fic "Failing Grade" by Cornflower_Blue. I read that, got too sad, and decided to include the same premise in this fic, only a little different. I recommend checking that fic out!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Izuku has never been in Principal Nedzu’s office before, but a vague office-like space housing the rodent featured heavily in his dreams.

They were mostly nightmares; for whatever reason, Nedzu got involved with the investigation into Izuku’s vigilante activities, instantly figured out his identity and was gleefully telling him he’d never become a hero.

Logically, Izuku knew this wasn’t going to happen. Eraserhead - Aizawa-sensei - wouldn’t bring him all the way to the UA if the principal was going to reject him. But logic had no place in his mind right then, all the space having been taken up by anxiety.

As if reading his mind, Aizawa-sensei slowed down slightly, matching pace with Izuku.

“It’ll be fine,” he said, hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “As far as I’m concerned, you already have a spot in my class - this is just making it official.”

Izuku nodded with a soft sniffle, leaning deeper into Aizawa-sensei’s side.

For a moment, for a few steps more, he felt slightly better. Then, Aizawa-sensei stiffened, angling his body between Izuku and whatever it was they were going to approach.

“Put on your mask,” he said, curtly, glancing over his shoulder.

Izuku complied without question, completing his vigilante look. He was giving that part of his life up; the last thing he wanted was to be identified as Midoriya Izuku on his last day.

Once his mask was securely in place, Aizawa-sensei started walking again, leading Izuku towards what appeared to be a giant cluster of news reporters crowding in front of the UA’s gates.

All he could hear - the shouts, the mutterings, the cries - were all about All Might, demanding to be given an interview.

Nope. No way. Izuku was not dealing with that.

“Haven’t you heard?” Izuku called, his voice modulator adding volume to pierce through the noise. The reporters quieted somewhat, turning around to look at him, barely any of them recognizing him. “He’s not teaching at UA, that was a feint; he’s at Ketsubutsu.”

A faint muttering broke out, but as no one had yet seen the hero, the doubts were sown. Mere minutes later, only the couple of the most stubborn reporters were still left at the gates.

“Nicely done,” Aizawa-sensei nodded, passing Izuku a visitor’s pass as they crossed through the threshold.

The reporters, clearly sensing their chance, tried stepping through as well, only to send the security measures - large metal shutters - crashing down.

Izuku kept his mask on as they passed through the corridors. It’s early still, only the most dedicated of students milling through the corridors in search of their class.

“Iida!” Aizawa-sensei called, and a tall student with engines sticking out of his shins turned around on the threshold of the classroom marked 1A. “I might be late for homeroom. Keep the class calm and don’t let them destroy anything.”

“Yes, sensei!” the student said, his hand chopping through the air.

He did not question Izuku’s presence nor what could possibly make Aizawa-sensei late.

They carried on, all the way to the office on the top floor. The doors opened just before they could reach them.

“Welcome! It is I, Nedzu!” the Principal said from behind the desk as soon as the doors closed behind Izuku and Aizawa-sensei. “Who am I? A dog, a mouse or a bear? But more impo-”

“I always thought you were a stoat,” Izuku accidentally interrupted, thinking it was a genuine question.

Principal Nedzu went quiet for a second. Bringing his tea cup to his mouth, he barely drank a sip before he’d dissolved into a flurry of cackling.

Izuku turned towards Aizawa-sensei, confused, but the teacher didn’t seem to have any more clue as to what was happening.

“This is… A first,” Principal Nedzu finally said, once he’s calmed down enough to do so. “I’ll admit, I’ve never expected anyone to get the answer right.”

“Why?” Izuku scrunched his eyebrows, even if the expression was lost behind the mask. “It’s not like it’s that hard.”

Another round of cackling followed.

“Oh, I would love to chat with you over tea sometimes,” he said, a mad glint appearing in his eyes. “But alas, there’s a reason why you’re here now, isn’t there?”

Izuku took off his mask in lieu of an answer.

“Ah,” Principal Nedzu sobered quickly. “You must be the mystery student.”

“Mystery student?” Aizawa-sensei repeated, leading Izuku towards the guest chairs.

Principal Nedzu took that moment to grab a file from one of the stacks littering his desktop.

“A student supposedly turned away because of the marks on his record,” Principal Nedzu flipped the file open, turning it around to show the original class rooster with what Izuku assumed to be his name thoroughly scratched out with a black marker. “And yet, when I asked to see that record, no one could give me a satisfactory answer.”

“This happened when the acceptance letters were sent out,” Aizawa-sensei pointed out, tone almost accusatory. “I can’t believe any problem could stump you for that long.”

“I don’t usually concern myself with paperwork once I’ve signed off on it,” Principal Nedzu said curtly. “I trust my staff to carry out the instructions to the letter… And yet, someone failed to do that. I only noticed the student was missing yesterday, when someone else appeared in that spot.”

Aizawa-sensei narrowed his eyes. “The purple-hair quirk or the strength mutation?”

“Does it matter? They’re both expelled.”

His lips thinning in displeasure, Aizawa-sensei did not respond.

Principal Nedzu used that time to slam a thick pile of papers on the desk.

“I don’t trust your exam results,” he said, and Izuku’s heart fell. “If someone went through the trouble of falsifying marks on your records, they might have falsified your marks, as well. I’d hate for you to attend classes below your level. Hence, some additional tests. I hope you don’t mind?”

“You…” Izuku struggled, his mouth too dry. “You think my result scores are not as high as they should be?”

Principal Nedzu tilted his head, the beady eyes staring at Izuku curiously. “I know that can’t be your real score. Someone like you would only receive average marks if they were taught that was the best they could do.”

Izuku couldn’t speak over the lump in his throat, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Cheating,” he choked out eventually. “They thought I was cheating if I scored higher than what they had expected of me. And they... Did not expect much from the quirkless, useless Deku.”

The teachers’ expressions darkened, but for the first time in his life, Izuku was certain he wasn’t at fault.

“Believe me, Midoriya Izuku,” Principal Nedzu said, solemnly. “Here, I want you to do your utmost best.”

He passed him the thick stack of papers, instructing him to move to a table off in the corner. Aizawa-sensei left at that point, having his own class to manage.

The tests… They weren’t that hard. Izuku, having had the freedom to learn at his own pace the last few months, not only caught up on the curriculum he missed but also managed to get ahead a little.

Just the sheer volume of the exams made it take some hours, including a lunch break he took with Principal Nedzu, chatting with him about quirks.

But eventually… The time came for his physical evaluation.

“You’ll join Eraserhead’s class,” Principal Nedzu was saying as he led Izuku - fully masked and covered up - down the corridors. “The Foundational Heroics are managed by a different teacher, but I’m told he’ll join you by the end of it.”

Izuku just nodded at that, getting into character. As the Ghost of Musutafu, he never spoke, using his long-learned knowledge of JSL and his fast writing skills to communicate. The voice modulator was a last-resort kind of a thing, only when no other option was available.

“If there are any troubles at all, feel free to mention it to the teacher,” Principal Nedzu continued. “They are new at teaching, and you’d do me a great favour if you tested them a little.”

Smart of him to phrase it as if Izuku would be helping out by asking.

Leaving him by the doors to a gym, Principal Nedzu wandered off again, having other responsibilities to attend to as the principal of UA.

Izuku took a deep breath, steeled himself, and pushed the doors open.

On the other side… Pure chaos awaited.

Students kept yelling over each other, asking question after question, but the noise became barely a faint buzz in the back of his head when Izuku spotted who, exactly, taught that class.

In front of the large monitors, decked out in his Silver Age uniform, stood All Might in the flesh.

Izuku froze.

“Ah!” All Might called upon spotting him. “You must be the new transfer I’ve been informed of! I’m afraid I wasn’t informed of your name, young boy!”

And yet he immediately assumed he was a boy, Izuku thought bitterly.

He said nothing, his hands moving as he signed the name he used as the vigilante, just ghost, two fingers poised as if picking a thread out of his closed fist, moving it upwards with a wave.

All Might just stared at him.

“Ah, well,” he blustered, looking at a file left on the top of the desk, squinting at it heavily. “Perfect, we’ve had an odd number. You shall join Young Bakugou on the hero team!”

Izuku… Izuku did not like that. At least he knew Aizawa-sensei did as promised, and put Ka- Bakugou in his file under “do not assign partners”... Pity All Might didn’t read that far.

"Can I have another partner?" He asked, but All Might just stared at him, uncomprehendingly.

“Shoo,” he motioned with his hands. “Go on, join your teammate.”

Even a few of the other students looked surprised at that treatment. Izuku, comforted by the thought Principal Nedzu might actually make All Might face some consequences for that (hah! Tough luck) went out in search of Bakugou.

At least he knew he’d be able to sign to Bakugou, what with the other student being the reason Izuku learned it in the first place.

“What the hell are you doing here, extra?” Bakugou barked at him, in the midst of correcting his gauntlets.

"All Might assigned me to be your partner for this exercise," Izuku signed.

Bakugou just scoffed at that, but did not argue. Seemed like "All Might" was the right buzzword to use.

He did, however, turn on his heel and stalk off, leaving Izuku no choice but to follow, struggling to catch up.

"We need to plan!" He kept signing at Bakugou, until the other had no choice to acknowledge him, unless he wanted Izuku to accidentally gouge his eyes out.

“The only plan we need is you not getting in my way!” Bakugou barked out, pushing Izuku to demonstrate exactly where he didn’t want him to be. “Just stand back and leave me to win!”

"Why are you always so, so difficult?" Izuku signed, movements sharp with his frustration. "Would it kill you to work along with someone for a single exercise, Kacchan?!"

Even in the midst of signing the name - the flat victory sign with thumb pressed to the base of the middle finger, for the “ka”, and a mimic of the gesture Bakugou always used to activate his quirk - Izuku knew he fucked up.

Bakugou froze, staring at Izuku’s mask intently.

“What. Did. You. Just. Call. Me?” He asked, deceptively calm.

Izuku knew better than to answer. He just turned around and ran for his life, followed by the familiar sounds of explosions.

He turned into the first alleyway he could see, climbing the nearest climbable surface all the way to the roof. Bakugou would have to use up a lot of his sweat to follow up, since it would never occur to him to climb the fire escape like a normal person would.

That’s exactly what Izuku was counting on. Without his explosions… Well, Bakugou would definitely still be strong and know how to throw a punch.

But nowadays? So did Izuku.

He tackled Bakugou to the ground the second he popped over the edge of the roof, carefully keeping his hands always pressed close to the boy’s head or other vital parts to ensure Bakugou wouldn’t simply blast indiscriminately.

“Calm down,” he said firmly, knee pressing into Bakugou’s back. There was no point in keeping silent anymore, not when he's already given himself away with the nickname. “We’re in the UA; They won’t tolerate this kind of behaviour. Principal Nedzu and Aizawa-sensei won’t let you just beat me up without any consequences.”

Bakugou goes lax… But not for the reason Izuku expected.

“Nerd?” He choked out. “It’s you?”

“Who did you think I was?” Izuku let him up, considering Bakugou didn’t seem inclined to attack him anymore.

“Not the guy whose funeral I’ve attended!”

That was… Weird.

“Who threw a funeral for me?” Izuku questioned. “Mom’s the one who died…”

Bakugou was actually rendered speechless.

“The school…” He said eventually. “They said that since you were gone, clearly you followed Auntie Inko… And the old hag couldn’t get a hold of you anymore, so she thought that was true, too…”

Izuku just laughed bitterly.

“And to think they kept calling us childhood friends,” he said. “Did you really think I would have given up on everything this easily? My life has been an uphill struggle since the start, and I’ve never given up before.

Bakugou just stared at him, expression hard.

“Take off your mask,” he demanded.

“We don’t have the time for this,” Izuku rolled his eyes, and even if the gesture was wasted, it made him feel just the slightest bit better. “We’re in the middle of the exercise, and if that wild goose chase makes us late, I swear-”

“Please,” Bakugou interrupts him, and for the first time, Izuku noticed the lack of expression was his attempt to remain stoic. “Izuku. Please.”

Never, in all the fourteen or so years of knowing Bakugou, did Izuku ever hear him say “please”. And in almost as long, his actual name instead of that hellish nickname.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Izuku grumbled, but acquiesced.

Bakugou just stared at him for a moment before slowly raising his hand towards Izuku’s cheek.

Izuku, in the past year, stood unwaveringly before the worst of criminals, the scariest of villains, the mightiest of heroes… But he still couldn’t stop himself from flinching at the approach of Bakugou’s hand.

Freezing in place, Bakugou slowly closes his open palm, one finger at a time, dropping his hand back by his side.

“Alright,” he breathed in deeply. “Alright. We’re going to have to talk about this later, but for now… I know you have a plan, Izuku. Lay it on me.”

That was a rather novel feeling, to have Bakugou of all people ask that, and using his given name again, too…

But Izuku was pretty sure he could get used to it.

Notes:

So, I hope you've enjoyed it! The prompt was Szeh's #10: "Presumed dead" (even if I've only realized it fit oh-so-perfectly mid-writing)

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