with a face only a mother (aka All Might) could love

by ThrillShockSuspense

Summary:

Izuku is extremely scary to everyone but All Might.

Alternatively:
Misconceptions and Misunderstandings - The Fic

Chapter 1: One through Five

1 – Inko

Despite Hisashi being stationed far away, Izuku turns out to be like him. Just like him. Every time Inko sees her husband in her son – in the way he mutters creepily to himself, analyzing the best ways to disable someone’s quirk or in the way his saccharine smile just won’t leave his face, no matter how much she tries to get rid of it – it sends restless shivers down her spine.

She used to love her husband. But with time came understanding and with understanding came a slow sort of realization that still shakes her to her bones whenever she thinks about it. That her husband is a terrifying man. That his sweetness is printed on his face like a mask hiding away the ugly insect-like eeriness beneath. That his gifts are always exactly what she desires in the moment, as if he can look inside her mind whenever he so pleases.

That he’s a villain and not one that participates only in the occasional petty crime.

Hisashi is dangerous, with intelligence as sharp as a blade and eyes sometimes so cold they leave her gasping for air. They are a reddish brown but Inko swears they look like blood when he falls deeply into thought.

The worst thing is that she still loves him. How could she not? He’s only ever been gentle with her. Caring, loving, the perfect husband. Even when Izuku’s x-ray results showed that their son won’t ever develop a quirk, Hisashi treated Izuku the same. Didn’t even falter in his steps or got overwhelmed with guilt like Inko herself had become. Hisashi accepted Izuku’s quirklessness like it was nothing, not even a minor inconvenience.

Until he was permanently moved to the USA, Hisashi spent all of his free time with his family. Inko couldn’t fall out of love with him when he brought her flowers every couple of days, one bouquet more beautiful than the last, and brought All Might merchandise for Izuku with a sort of sarcastically amused grin that looked just the tiniest bit murderous.

She couldn’t. Couldn’t not love him.

Inko was so unbelievably glad when Hisashi moved overseas. She thought that if his presence were gone, Izuku would finally become more like her.

Instead, it seems as if distance only made them more alike. Izuku’s dark green hair, which shone like a scarab’s shell in the scorching sun, developed a stark white streak in his bangs. His round cheeks sunk with the loss of baby fat and it made his smile too sharp, uncannily like Hisashi’s. His muttering... by god. His muttering sped up, somehow, and with his dropping voice it now sounds like ghastly ghostly serpentine whispers instead of overeager info dumps. Inko misses the time when her baby was stuck as the smallest in his age group. Now he towers over her, as well as over most of his classmates, rail-thin and anxious but undeniably dangerous all the same.

She wishes she could stop loving him, just as she wishes she could stop loving Hisashi.

But she can’t.

She can’t.

(It makes her want to tear her hair out.)

 

2 – Katsuki

He doesn’t know how the extras don’t see it.

They act like Katsuki’s the one who goes overboard all of the time. Like Katsuki’s the asshole, like his childhood friend isn’t the most inhuman thing that has ever roamed these school’s hallways. Like Katsuki’s the one who has to keep himself from brutally murdering people just because he can.

It’s laughable, really, how blind they all are to Deku.

Katsuki doesn’t hate the bastard, not really. He isn’t even sure if he could get away with hating Deku without the nerd whipping his head around almost unnaturally fast and far, declaring war on Katsuki’s hatred with a hackles-raising smile and that snake-esque boyish voice calling him that stupid nickname.

Kacchan.

(If he didn’t know it better, Katsuki’d think it were meant as an infantilizing taunt.)

The kicker is that Deku doesn’t even know. The fucker doesn’t know why his own mom can’t look at him for longer than a couple of seconds without fidgeting anxiously or why the teachers ignore him. It’s not because he’s quirkless. (And how dare he?! He promised he’d get a cool quirk and become Katsuki’s sidekick. Motherfucker. Well, maybe Deku really doesn’t need a quirk. With his creepiness he’s gonna probably scare off villains before they even commit any crimes.)

Deku doesn’t know why Katsuki’s so goddamn agitated when the nerd’s following him around, mumbling grotesque ways to permanently disable (also known as fucking murder) their classmates or how to improve quirks so much they barely resemble what they started out as.

That’s more than fine with Katsuki, to be honest. It’d be fucking embarrassing if it came out that Japan’s future number one hero is terrified of his own only friend. Deku can remain as socially inept as ever and go bother another Kacchan when UA puts down their feet and tells Deku to fuck off for being a shitty quirkless nobody – just a tiny pebble on the road.

And if, until then, Katsuki has to keep Deku humbled to prevent him from gaining social awareness or, god forbid, confidence in his own abilities? Yeah, he’ll do it. He’ll take one for the team.

Those that end up in Deku’s high school class better be fucking grateful when they notice how much damage control Katsuki’s done.

 

3 – Ochako

The boy is plain-faced. She’ll give him that.

Everything else about him speaks another story. His hair is dual-coloured – a lot more shiny dark green than off-putting too-white white – and he has sanpaku eyes with irises that are like two polished jade stones. His smile tears his cheeks apart.

He’s a lot taller than her but looks extremely small when he notices who saved him from face-planting on the concrete. It’s like he’s never spoken to a girl before. He mumbles a thank you, correctly hypothesizes her quirk and grows as red as a tomato seemingly in the same breath.

Ochako... doesn’t really want to have anything to do with him.

He hasn’t given her a reason to dislike him but she feels weird when she’s with him. She doesn’t like this feeling – it’s like she’s standing next to someone made of all the darkest parts nature could offer.

So, she hastily says goodbye and leaves him behind.

And hopes she doesn’t ever have to see him again.

 

4 – Tenya

He wants to criticize the mumbling boy.

But then.

Then he looks at Tenya and it’s like the air has become ten degrees colder. His eyes don’t hold contempt – that’s the oddest thing; that there’s actually no reason to be afraid of him – but Tenya doesn’t ever want to know what it’ll feel like when they do hold contempt.

Tenya doesn’t mention his mumbling.

He nonetheless subtly shifts in front of the girl with brown hair that the boy has been eyeing when they’re preparing for the practical exam.

She gives Tenya a thankful nod.

(How can someone like that boy be a contender for the hero course?!)

 

5 – Present Mic

He gets himself a big good old mug of coffee before sitting down at his workplace. A couple of minutes prior, a frowning girl came in and asked him if she could share her points with another kid who’d saved her from the zero pointer.

“I... I didn’t catch his name but he has a rather plain face with a few freckles. Uh, green hair with a white streak at the front?”

Quieter: “He’s scary. Something about him just freaks me out...”

But then, a sudden change in her demeanour – a boost of confidence, from what Hizashi could gather.

“He saved me! He scares the shit out of me but he saved my life! So, please, give him half of my points!”

Naturally, he told her that couldn’t be done. (Not that the participant in question would need the extra points. Such a heroic deed is always guaranteed rescue points aplenty.)

Now that he’s alone, though, Hizashi’s interested in this mysterious boy. What could be so off about him that it scared the girl that bad? She didn’t sound like it had anything to do with actual harassment on his end but... he’d rather take a look into the situation before they accept him into the hero course, much less throw both of them into the same class.

He takes a sip of his coffee and waits for his laptop to boot up, then types in the password for the practical exam’s video material. It’s readily available for any members of the teaching staff until the school year starts. Hizashi needs a second to find the group with the brown-haired girl (Uraraka Ochako) but he pulls it up easily enough. He clicks on the first video.

What the participants oftentimes don’t realize is that they’re already being filmed in the bus that drives them to the individual testing grounds and then, later on, before the exam starts. Of course UA doesn’t fail to mention it in the contract but most students quickly forget all about that or don’t really mind it. There are usually some outliers who try to spot the cameras but they’ve been hidden by none other than Principal Nedzu himself, which is why nobody has as of yet caught sight of them.

Hizashi switches through the different angles – click, click, click – not really paying attention to anything...

Click.

He lets out an ear-splittingly loud screech.

“What the fuck?” he whispers to himself, clutching at his poor chest. He can’t bring himself to look away from the footage, however disturbing it might be.

That’s the kid. Hizashi’s a hundred percent sure that has to be him.

Fuck, man. No wonder Uraraka was frightened by him.

The boy’s still staring straight at the camera, teeth bright as he smiles unwaveringly. He’s like one of those eerie jumpscare pictures. All around him, teens either talk animatedly to each other or do their own thing. The boy, though... it’s like he’s carved out of stone. A monolith amongst men, a being made of stillness.

Hizashi watches, entranced.

Slowly, life seems to seep into the boy’s body. His frame rate has yet to reach a point where his movements become fluid but his hands fly up to just under his chin. (How? They lay in his lap and then they were up there – how fast can he move?! Is that his quirk?)

Hizashi’s eyes widen. As soon as he understands what’s going on, his hands slam the laptop shut. The sound of the camera is abruptly cut off. Not that it’s the sound that’s the problem. (The boy didn’t know whether they had a microphone built in. He didn’t know.)

His heart races and he whispers to himself: “Oh fuck. Fuck, no. No, no, nope, uh-uh. I’m not doing this. I am not doing this.” before throwing back the rest of his coffee and leaving. The room that’s his safe space has become a hotbed for paranoia.

He needs to talk to Shouta.

(Shouta needs to take that... that thing and teach him how to stop being... like that. There’s no way Kan could ever hope to put reigns on the boy. No, Kan would fold like a wet paper towel after a single day. If there’s someone who can teach him, it’s Shouta.

And he needs to talk to Shouta.

Not just because he needs to ensure the boy lands in 1-A instead of 1-B but also because...

...because Hizashi’s fucking scared, alright?)

Throughout the entire two minute walk, the images depicting all too clearly what the kid has done flash behind his eyes. As if they’ve been burnt into his retinas.

Midoriya Izuku signed flawlessly and almost too fast:

I can see you

with that goddamn horrible smile on his lips.

Fucking hell.

 

+ 1 – All Might

Toshinori meets his future successor when he’s on a time crunch. That is, decidedly, very much not an ideal way to meet your future successor.

Well, it’s not like it could be helped. That damn slime guy slipped straight through Toshinori’s fingers and went underground – which meant Toshinori, too, has to follow him through the canals and out of an open manhole. His left side throbs as he jumps and sends a jolt through his body after he assesses the situation (shit, a kid’s being choked) and sends an appropriate punch their way to disperse the villain.

The child drops. Toshinori winces when the boy’s head thumps as it hits the asphalt. He quickly makes sure his skull isn’t damaged, brings him into the good old anti-choking-on-your-own-bile position and checks his breathing before quickly stuffing the slime into a couple of coke bottles he finds in the trashcan. (Man, they really don’t teach you stuff like this at UA. They should. Less creative heroes might have a hard time coming up with a capture method that works for villains like this one.)

When he’s done – and the boy still hasn’t moved – Toshinori heads over to his side and repositions the kid’s head onto his yellow backpack. Might as well make sure he wakes up before depositing the slimy villain at the police station. Following protocol, Toshinori has already sent out the coordinates for the paramedics. Although he knows they’re going to take their sweet time, since this part of the town’s rather far from the local hospital. (And, as much as he doesn’t want to judge his colleagues, Musutafu doesn’t have the most enthusiastic paramedics. They’re a little lacklustre. Always a bit too late when it’s not an immediate emergency. Always a bit too rude with people whose quirks aren’t pretty.)

Toshinori feels his time starting to run out. Feels like the last few kernels of sand symbolizing One For All are drizzling down the funnel of the hourglass. Still. He can’t just leave the poor boy here alone. And so he waits.

Luckily, the boy soon opens his eyes, looking rather disoriented as he blinks up the tunnel’s arching ceiling.

“Oh, good, you’re awake!” Toshinori calls out, mindful to keep his usually boisterous voice a bit subdued. There’s no knowing whether the kid has a headache or not, after all.

Confused green eyes focus on him. For a second, the teenager doesn’t recognize him but then: “A-ALL MIGHT?!”

Toshinori’s grin becomes less arbitrary and more genuine as he sees how the child’s whole face lights up in delight and eagerness at seeing him. The kid jumps up, scrambles for his backpack like he wasn’t out cold mere second ago, and his sometimes too-fast-to-comprehend mutterings as well as his glitch-y movements remind Toshinori of an especially overzealous puppy. (So cute!, crosses his mind.) “Indeed!” he answers, kneeling down next to the kid while making sure the bottled villain remains in his vicinity and doesn’t have even the slightest chance of breaking free, “It’s commendable how fast you seem to have recovered, my boy, but I must implore you to stay somewhat seated until the paramedics arrive. This Sludge Villain here tried to suffocate you, after all!”

The kid comes to a sudden halt. “O-Oh, yeah... I just, um, wanted to show you a thing I did.” He sounds so unsure now that something in Toshinori’s chest aches. It is clear as the cloudless sky above them that the child’s self-esteem is lower than his own was at this age.

(And he’d have thought that’d be impossible, since he was quirkless – one of the, back then, thirty percent who were destined to die before age, again, back then, twenty-five. He’s been keeping up with the statistics and no matter how many times he states in interviews that quirkless people are just as capable as quirked ones, no matter how much money he discreetly and not at all discreetly donates to the sometimes borderline illegal facilities for the Unwanted, All Might’s opinion all of a sudden isn’t worth anything anymore when it goes against what everyone has been conditioned to think. The statistics are now worse than ever.)

“Well, then, my boy. Let’s see what you’ve got for me!” he encourages him and the teenager – one Midoriya Izuku, as is written on the notebook he hesitantly presents Toshinori with – wobbly grins up at him. Toshinori gasps when he sees what Midoriya has done.

What Midoriya has crafted, is a much better description for it. It’s... wow. For a moment, Toshinori’s positively stunned at what is, essentially, an in-depth analysis breakdown of his hero persona. There are three drawings on the first page, which show his most prominent costumes, done in normal and coloured pencil. They are beautiful, first of all, and clearly cost Midoriya a fair amount of time, since he put forth the effort to shade them as well. Secondly, there’s something incredibly realistic about his faces. At first, he can’t quite pinpoint what it is but then he realizes: His faces aren’t kept the same. They change design by design, expression more carefree and laidback in the first two than in the third, more mature and experienced in the third. With a start, Toshinori notices that Midoriya has somehow captured the difference between All Might pre-injury and post-injury. Which, well, should frankly not have been possible.

But the drawings aren’t even close to being the highlight of this. No, what completely steals the show is what has been written in almost hasty yet entirely readable font.

Toshinori turns to the next page. And the next. And the next.

On over seven whole pages, Midoriya has basically covered his entire life as a hero.

Here’s a fun fact: Nobody even knows what his date of birth is, yet alone his blood type or... he squints down disbelievingly at favourite drinks, USA compared to Japan. Midoriya knows everything, it seems. How many hours have gone into this? Is this Midoriya’s quirk?

Toshinori blanches as his eyes catch Major Injuries: 2221 – broke a rib during quirk accident involving a minor, 2226 – broke both legs during natural disaster (earthquake); !!2232 – gained massive injury during unknown fight (NOT Toxic Chainsaw!), displays signs of organ damage (torso, left side damaged, discreetly coughing up blood – not imminent cause for concern but cause to be more careful), displays signs of chronic pain (shielding torso, left side periodically), displays signs of decreased quirk functionality (general hours as hero gone down, strength going down approximately 0.17% per month)

By all that’s holy, he hopes Midoriya either has connections to an info broker or an analysis/intelligence quirk.

“Uh... do you happen to have connections to an info broker or an analysis-slash-intelligence quirk?” Toshinori asks carefully.

“No, um, All Might, Sir. I, ah” here, the boy chuckles as he awkwardly avoids looking at Toshinori, “I don’t have many contacts at all. And. I-... I’m quirkless.”

Toshinori instantly knows he’s telling the truth, which is a capital Problem since this means Midoriya’s been able to discern all of this from All Might’s televised appearances. (But, man, all the same this is an incredible love letter to the work he’s put his whole life’s energy into. This is... he can’t even begin to describe how impressed he is.)

Because Toshinori’s too busy staring at the notebook, he doesn’t register his time with One for All running out entirely. He’s already steaming by the time he finally notices. “Shit” he curses, discreetly looking around whilst going halfway into panic mode.

“A-All Might? There’s a public toilet just around the corner if you need to hide!” Midoriya whisper-shouts and Toshinori forgoes asking how he knew and instead let’s himself be dragged to the toilet by his t-shirt. (God, trying to keep One for All up when there’s no time left feels like he’s burning on the inside.)

Midoriya, bless the boy, careens him into a stall, guides him to sit on the ceramic toilet seat and closes the stall door behind them. “You can let it go now” the boy says soothingly as he rubs Toshinori’s back. The hero is reminded of his younger years, when he’d gone out clubbing with David and one of them always inevitably ended up retching his soul out while the other tried his best to simultaneously offer comfort and sneakily gather blackmail material. (He still has that video of Dave sobbing out the tune of their back then favourite TV show’s intro as he periodically projectile-vomited everywhere but into the bowl. Hah... good old times.)        

Whether it’s because he has no other choice or because Midoriya’s presence for some reason puts him at ease, Toshinori obeys.

He lets go.

Midoriya doesn’t gasp in shock. He doesn’t shriek or cry. He doesn’t react at all, aside from mumbling something that sounds like “oh, I was right, you do have a second form”. Toshinori shakily inhales, closes his eyes and leans back against the white-tiled wall.

Without opening his eyes, he asks: “Do I need to explain this or...?”

“No. Uh, not if you don’t want to! I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but I guess it has something to do with your injury?”

“Mhm” Toshinori hums in agreement, “Yeah, that’s the gist of it. As you deduced, my left side is pretty fu- uh, messed up.”

“Oh...”

Toshinori opens his eyes. Midoriya’s looking at him like everything’s alright – like the number one hero hasn’t just implied he’s a soon-to-be has-been and like he doesn’t think of him any differently.

There’s a faint noise coming from outside – an explosion, if Toshinori’s right.

Midoriya flinches. Hard.

Then his jade green eyes widen and: “All Might, we left the villain behind.”

“...Fuck”

They both hasten out of the stall and follow the sounds of destruction. Indeed, the villain has escaped (plastic bottles torn apart) and now he’s attacking someone else.

Another kid.

Shit. Toshinori’s out of time. He can’t... he just can’t.

“Kacchan!” Midoriya hisses at his side.

And before Toshinori’s able to ask, the boy takes off.

(In that moment, a hero is born and a successor found.)

 

---

                                                      

Chapter 2: Six through Ten

Interlude: Phone Call #01

Izuku: Hi, dad!

Hisashi: Izuku! I heard from your mother you got into UA? Is that true – is my boy going to be a hero?

Izuku: Yeah! I, you know, I was really worried I wouldn’t make it ‘cuz there were robots and I didn’t think I could take on robots but then there was this girl who was trapped – ohmygoddadItalkedtoagirl! – and, and! I saved her! I got a quirk, dad! And I blasted a gigantic robot away – it was AWESOME... Ibrokemybonesthoughoops

Hisashi: You... got a quirk?

Izuku: Uh, yeah! It just, haha, you wouldn’t believe me but it just manifested out of nowhere in the middle of the exam. Kinda crazy haha haaa... yeah...

Hisashi: Say, son, what kind of quirk is it?

Izuku: It’s, um, an emitter-type strength augmentation, I think. It was probably too powerful to handle for me previously so it... manifested late?

Hisashi: Hm.

Izuku: Oh man, I’m glad it didn’t come in earlier. I mean would you believehowbadthatwouldvebeenonmybodyhaha?!

Hisashi: Hm... yes, indeed, that would have been bad. Very bad. Listen, Izuku, you can tell your old man everything. You know that, right?

Izuku: ...Right

Hisashi: Mhm, good. I won’t ask how you got a quirk but if you ever want to talk about it, just give me a call. Okay?

Izuku: ...okay, dad. Sorry

Hisashi: What for? C’mon, I was young too... once. I know how it is with parents and secrets. As long as you don’t go around creating a second M.A.E.S. you’re alright.

Izuku: Maes?

Hisashi: Capitalized letters, stood for Meta Ability Extermination Squad... ah, meta ability just means quirk. I always forget with you youngsters.

Izuku: Oh! Uh, no, I’m not going to terrorize eighty percent of the population. That’d be too much work.

Hisashi: It’s the amount of work that’s keeping you from doing it?

Izuku: Quirkless discrimination is really severe and if you’re not jealous of other people having quirks, then you’re angry about it. I’d have maybe terrorized Aldera a bit, though, nothing big.

Hisashi: Aldera, hm? Inko never told me what middle school you went to. I will... look into this... Aldera.

Izuku: ‘Kay? It’s a normal school I guess. Anyways, yeah, thanks for not being super weirded out by me suddenly having a quirk.

Hisashi: Well, that’d be a bit hypocritical on my end.

Izuku: Huh?

Hisashi: Hehe, nothing, son. I will hear from you if anything major happens, right?

Izuku: Right! Hear you soon!

 

6 – Eraserhead

It’s absolutely no surprise Hizashi came into his office with an incredibly haunted look and demanded from him to teach The Child.

Midoriya looks like something straight out of a nightmare. Shouta isn’t scared per se but at least uneasy and it’s not just because of the boy’s unearthly appearance.

Midoriya knows who he is and he’s mumbled about his fighting style. Which means Midoriya really knows who he is.

He can count the amount of people who recognized him on one hand.

So, yes, Shouta isn’t scared (being scared of a fifteen year old teenager would be extremely illogical) but, all the same, he maybe hopes just a little bit that Midoriya will give him enough reason to expel him (and let him reenrol in Kan’s class). Firstly, Shouta tells them he’ll kick out the last place in his yearly quirk assessment – he can always call it a logical ruse if Midoriya doesn’t place last –, then he continues by erasing the boy’s quirk just as he’s about to throw the softball (Erasure can be disorienting if you aren’t used to it) and says he won’t tolerate any more bone breaking, point blank.

Which he wouldn’t usually do, since bone breaking indicates a dissonance between the quirk and the user – a thing that’s rather easily solved by bringing a support item into the equation – and if he were serious about it, he’d give Kaminari, Aoyama and Uraraka the same talk down since their quirk drawbacks are extremely debilitating as well.

Aoyama even has an item and still has extreme stomach pains if he uses his quirk for too long... and too long seems to be a couple of seconds at a time.

Shouta isn’t scared of Midoriya and yet his brain is screaming at him to either fight or flee.

Shouta really doesn’t do well with being told to flee.

So, fight it is.

“...Eh?!” The kid’s eyes widen – what the hell, they definitely widen too much – and he gulps. “O-Okay, sensei, may I... have a minute? To strategize?”

Strategy, huh? Shouta doesn’t see an issue with it, since Midoriya can’t tell him he didn’t give him a fair chance when, inevitably, the boy fails to come up with something on the fly. He had more than enough time, more than an entire decade, to ponder about how to use his quirk without hurting himself. Another minute won’t change that.

At the same time, he isn’t going to be too lenient. Midoriya asked for a single minute and that’s all he’s going to get.

“A minute? Right, let’s see what you make of it.” Hopefully nothing. Shouta shows him the timer – sixty seconds exactly – and says with a grin that barely reaches Midoriya’s levels of creepiness (even though people literally recoil when they see it): “Your time starts now.”

He presses start.

The first three seconds, Midoriya stares into nothingness. Then he starts fidgeting with his bottom lip, deeply in thought.

And then it begins. The mumbling. Shouta slowly blinks as, second by second, Midoriya increases the speed of his musings until they’re completely incomprehensible by the twentieth second.

By second thirty-seven, Midoriya gains a frantic, manic look in his eyes.

It’s the fifty-second second when the kid yells out: “Oh, I’m an egg!” like that makes any sense at all.

The timer sounds. Shouta isn’t sure what kind of five stages the boy went through but he’s now looking at him with so much conviction Shouta finds himself stumped a little. Maybe... maybe he’s been too harsh on Midoriya? It’s not the kid’s fault he looks like an abomination and has the social grace of someone who has never in his life talked to another human being before.

“You... are an egg?”

“Ah! Uh!” Midoriya’s hands are flying wildly, trying to... well, Shouta doesn’t exactly know what they’re trying to achieve but they are fast. So fast, in fact, Shouta can barely see them as they whir through the air. “I, I mean, I! U-Uh... I... I’m now ready, sensei.” he finishes lamely and pink-cheeked.

Shouta nods and throws him the ball. “Then do us the honours.”

Midoriya takes a deep breath.

Green lighting all of a sudden spans over the entirety of Midoriya’s body – a wince, then it’s toned down to a steady fizz – and between the dark, menacing green Shouta sees even meaner black static. Violently glowing red veins criss-cross on the boy’s skin. His hair goes up, not unlike when Shouta uses his own quirk, and the green and white flutter in a wind that wasn’t here a second prior. The air smells of ozone, tastes of TV static and the colour green, and all Shouta can think is that Midoriya somehow looks a lot less intimidating when he’s using his quirk, which is a paradox in and of itself.

“Full Cowl, three percent” Midoriya says.

Three percent? This is merely three percent of his quirk?

(No wonder he is breaking his bones left and right.)

“DETROIT SMASH!”

Shouta watches, flabbergasted, as the ball is sent flying. The device in his hand informs him that Midoriya’s thrown the ball 222 metres (and he resolutely ignores that three times 222 equals 666 – he doesn’t have time to ponder about such nonsense).

None of Midoriya’s bones are broken.

“If you could figure that out in a minute, why didn’t you do so before? You’ve had this quirk for ten years now.”

“Uh, about that...” Midoriya scratches his neck, “I was quirkless up until the entrance exam.”

That is literally impossible. However, that kid doesn’t strike him as the type who’d lie about easily disprovable things. So, Midoriya’s truly done the impossible and manifested a quirk at age fifteen.

Shouta sighs. “Well, I guess you do have potential.” (Unfortunately.) “The expulsion threat was a logical ruse.” (It really wasn’t but he can’t expel someone who went Plus Ultra on him.)

The rest of the class whines behind him. They, too, had hoped to get rid of their classmate.

“Sucks to be you.” Shouta thinks as he comes up with a hundred plans to get himself acclimated to Midoriya’s horror – all of which he’ll decidedly keep to himself.

Midoriya’s presence in this class will be a long-term exercise on how to deal with fear-inducing quirks. Not that Midoriya has one of those.

(That’d be simply too normal for that kid.) 

 

7 – Minoru

“...Where do you think they’ll hide the bomb?” Minoru asks the absolute babe, Uraraka, who happens to be his partner for the exercise. Every time he eyes her skin-tight suit, he has to stop himself from letting his eyes wander to her nether regions. To him, this is much more of an exercise in restraint than a battle trial.

A slight grimace on her face tells him he isn’t succeeding in keeping his perverted aura down entirely but that doesn’t matter right now. As long as Minoru doesn’t outright slap her ass, it’ll be alright.

“Midoriya’s pretty tactical.” she says after a moment, “He figured out his bone breaking problem pretty quickly. Bakugou also doesn’t seem too hindered by his... thing.”

Ah, yes, the thing. The thing that’s the reason why Minoru can’t put more weight into ogling the beautiful girl at his side rather than focusing on All Might’s trial. Bakugou as an opponent would’ve already absolutely overpowered them but with Midoriya, it becomes something else entirely.

If Minoru doesn’t get his shit together this exercise, Midoriya will kill him.

Ugh, his knees are shaking again and his eyes are tearing up just thinking about the abhorrent monster’s words.

“Uraraka-san is a dear friend to me.” Midoriya whispered into his ear without even being anywhere near Minoru and yet he felt the other’s breath against the side of his head, “If you don’t treat her adequately and put up your best possible performance, there will be consequences...”

Having someone like Midoriya, who puts the fear into seasoned professionals (Minoru saw how Present Mic’s fingers trembled every time he called Midoriya to read for the class. Although Minoru'll give it to him: Midoriya has a nice reading voice. It’d definitely be nicer if it didn’t occasionally come from inside one’s own head, though.), whispering thinly veiled murderous threats into your ear does wonders for keeping your more prevalent urges at bay.

His lesser urges have been replaced by pure terror.

Minoru shakily smiles, meeting Uraraka’s eyes rather than her sizeable bust. “That means they will work together, huh? Haha...”

“Yeah. Midoriya also for sure figured out we can attack from the bottom and the top.”

“You have a huge bottom I’d love to top!” Minoru doesn’t say. Instead, he coughs and ponders: “The bomb’s most likely in the middle, then. There has to be a windowless room somewhere. Or at least one that doesn’t have much exposure.” unlike your hero costume, Ura-rack-A+.

The girl nods. “We could split, I fly up to the roof and you go in through the base entrance, alright? We’ll meet in the middle. Let’s keep up our communication throughout and we should be fine.”

Minoru really doesn’t want to split up, since encountering either one of their opponents would mean an instant loss for them. But, well... Uraraka’s eying him with barely concealed contempt and he definitely couldn’t be tempted when his teammate isn’t even with him. So, he gives her a thumbs up. “Let’s do this!” he says, conveying way more confidence than he is actually feeling right now.

 

Two minutes later, Minoru regrets having taken the UA entrance exam.

A bell rings, signalling the start of the exercise, and Uraraka leaves him almost immediately. Minoru hesitantly heads into the building and as soon as he sets foot into the entrance hall, a gust of wind blows the door shut behind him.

Okay. He’ll just... open the door again. It’s way too dark in here to see clearly.

The door doesn’t budge.

(Why is it dark anyways? The windows should let enough daylight in. They don’t. Everything’s way too dark, unnaturally dim in a way that speeds up his heartbeat.)

Oh god. What if this is a trap and when he passes by a corner, Midoriya’s going to jump out and... and... No. No, he has to stay calm. He has a teammate who’s relying on him. Yes, Uraraka will know what to do. Minoru swallows down his anxiety and walks slowly past a few desolate offices. This city is way too realistic. It truly looks like an abandoned building.

Now that his eyes have had time to adjust to the absence of light, Minoru searches for a safe spot to contact his partner. He finds himself cowering underneath an office desk.

(Was that a shadow? No, it's absolutely silent. There's nothing.)

He clicks the send button with twitchy fingers. “Uraraka?”

A moment passes in silence. There’s not a single sound coming through, not even white noise. Minoru swallows and leans further back against the backboard of the desk. He tries again and again but nothing happens. Radio silence, literally. If Uraraka were already captured, All Might would have declared it over the speakers, so that’s probably not the case. Is the headset malfunctioning?

Minoru freezes. He holds his breath and listens.

(It can’t be. That’s... that’s impossible.)

His heart turns to ice as the telltale sounds of breathing continue.

Right behind him.

Minoru turns around slowly, shudders wrecking his tiny body as he tries to maintain calm despite his growing horror. The wooden board doesn’t entirely cover the backside of the desk. There are approximately twenty-five centimetres from the floor up that are not covered by anything at all.

And there’s.

There’s definitely enough space for someone to poke their face through that space if one were to lie down sideways.

Minoru sobs.

Midoriya’s wide eyes unblinkingly stare up at him. He’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Found you!”

Minoru screams.   

 

“Villain team wins!”

 

Minoru sits far away from the Thing. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees it – that face, that disturbing smile – and the taste of its presence still lingers on his tongue. Colours should not taste of anything and yet... yet he knows that forest green fizzes like pop rocks in the back of his throat and reminds him of rainy days. In truth, it’s indescribable but he knows exactly what that damned colour tastes like.

“So, who is the MVP?” All Might asks like Minoru hadn’t just lived through a traumatizing experience. Like everything that’s happened was absolutely normal. (It’s not. It’s absolutely not.)

Minoru trembles as Midoriya lets his eyes roam over the room. A few brave ones like Kirishima barely flinch at his attention but Minoru spots the telltale signs of discomfort. They must all be so glad to have escaped the Other’s scorn.

Yaoyorozu (and Minoru is too shaken to think about her revealing costume) raises her hand and elaborates after All Might motions for her to give it a go: “I think it should be both Bakugou-san and Midoriya-san. They worked together perfectly – Bakugou protected the bomb against Uraraka and Midoriya went to find and incapacitate Mineta. I... don’t know what kind of commands Mineta gave Uraraka but since they led her into Bakugou’s grasp, I cannot in good conscience say Mineta’s the MVP. However, the hero team did work on a plan beforehand.”

Minoru’s blood turns to ice. “What? No! My headset didn’t work! I never talked with Uraraka!” he cries, eyes wide as he stares at his teammate, who drastically pales.

Uraraka whips around to All Might. “Sir? Could... could we listen to what Mineta supposedly said? At the time... I already found it a bit weird but his voice sounded off. I’m sure of it!”

The hero blinks at her request but nods. “Well, yes, we can do that, young Uraraka.” He then presses some buttons on the console and one of the TVs flickers on to show a recording of Minoru’s teammate landing on the roof – as they planned – and after getting her nausea under control, she pressed the communication button. “Mineta, can you hear me? Did you meet any of them already?”

What comes next will forever haunt Minoru. He knows he’ll never get rid of it for as long as he’ll live.

Because his voice answers when he didn’t.

But his voice sounds dead and creaky, like it has risen from the beyond. There’s no crackle, no background noises as he says, no, whispers sinisterly: “Urara...ka... come to me... come to me... come... to see me... I am here... here... downstairs... just go down the stairs twice and to your right... that’s where I... will be.”

“Holy shit. Nah, man, that’s not Mineta.” Kaminari mumbles into the silence of the room.

Bakugou clicks his tongue and flicks his hand at Midoriya’s head.

“Kacchan!” the Thing whines.

“Don’t Kacchan me, Deku! What the fuck was that shit, eh?!”

“I don’t know what you mean! I didn’t do anything!”

That puts a stop to Bakugou. “Cool, now it does that stuff on its own or what?”

“What?”

“Urgh, forget it, nerd!” Bakugou shoves Midoriya, “And stay the hell away from me. Your colour shit makes me sick, you freak.”

“Young Bakugou!” All Might intervenes, “Stop name-calling young Midoriya. As for the recorded audio... it is what it is! Whether it was young Mineta or not, it doesn’t matter! In the end, what counts is that you all had a learning experience and didn’t go overboard – which is superb for your first battle! Young Yaoyorozu is right in her assessments, so the title of MVP goes to both young Midoriya and Bakugou this round! Now, let’s-”

But Minoru isn’t listening anymore.

Because there’s a tendril of static green-black coming out of Midoriya’s shadow.

And it’s waving at him.

 

8 – Tomura

Tomura doesn’t know exactly why but one day, Sensei stopped seeing his family.

He was vaguely aware of the Midoriyas – Sensei’s wife Inko and his son Izuku – because he was raised as if he were a kid from an affair that nobody had previously known about. (His existence being the unknown factor, not the affair itself. Would be kind of weird if one forgot about their own affair, unless drugs were included in the process. But in that case, Sensei's anti-drug effect quirk would've stopped that from happening.)

And thus, Tomura grew up knowing that somewhere out there, he has a civilian sort-of half brother and stepmom who would both probably never meet him, since he was to be Sensei’s villain business successor. Sensei kept his villain business firmly away from his family business.

He was to be Sensei’s villain business successor. Past tense.

That all changed about two years before All Might bashed Sensei’s head in.

One day, the man came to the bar, sat down and ordered a drink from Kurogiri. He was pale in the face, as if he’d seen a ghost or something even more disturbing than that, and he kept going from absolute silence to mumbling up a storm, then back again to quietly nursing his drink. Tomura didn’t know what was up with him but he also didn’t want to ask, in case this wasn’t the sort of thing Tomura could know about. (He didn’t want to embarrass himself.)

So, Tomura sat down next to Sensei and drank the cola Kurogiri automatically prepared for him.

“Tomura” Sensei then finally said out loud, “What do you want to do when you grow up?”

That had, of course, seriously messed with his brain back then. What he wants to do? That had never been the question. The questions always were: Can you do what I order you to do, Tomura? Can you serve? Can you grow into a worthy successor? Can you kill for me, Tomura?

All to which he’d had to say yes or else be replaced by some other kid whose name could’ve easily been changed to Shigaraki Tomura.

Sensei’s question, therefore, would’ve made him scratch his neck raw...

...had the man not intervened.

All for One had never cared about Tomura’s self-harm. His eyes had been cold whenever Tomura scratched, scratched, scratched until he was bleeding and crying like a pathetic child right in front of him. (Embarrassing, everything so very embarrassing.)

His eyes weren’t cold when he held Tomura’s smaller fists in his own, then.

They were frightened.

(As if the man had realized something. Or something had been put into perspective for him.

In any case.

The boogieman that’s All for One, that two centuries old hardened villain, was put out for some reason or another.)

Sensei, as he gently held Tomura’s hands in his, whispered yet another oh so very forbidden question: “Do you want to keep your quirk, Tomura?”

and then,

“Do you even want to be a villain, kid?”

Tomura still remembers how scared he was because Sensei had never called him kid before. 

To be honest, Tomura thought he was about to die. Or that Sensei was about to die. Or Kurogiri. Or at least someone was going to die because Sensei wouldn’t drastically change like that if nobody were about to keel over.

So, Tomura had steeled himself, ignored his stinging eyes (which really fucking stung due to his eczema) and looked up at the man who saved him when nobody else had. “Am I going to die, Sensei?” he tried to maturely demand but ended up sobbing it out.

Sensei, for some reason, hugged him. “No, nobody’s dying. I’m just. I’ve done it all wrong. I need to change it. I need to... no, don't worry about.”

“Huh?!”

But the man didn’t explain.

In the end, Tomura never really found out why exactly Sensei changed. Only that he did and completely stopped modelling him into a successor, instead focussing on raising him since he – yet again for inexplicable reasons – pretended to have migrated to the USA and had a lot of time on his hands without needing to go back home to his actual family.

This led to exactly three things:

Firstly, Tomura got therapy. From a villain therapist, of course, since All for One couldn’t exactly send his former successor to a normal therapist. It turned out that Tomura truly was fucked up in the head because of Sensei. (Good to know.)

Secondly, Tomura got himself a new quirk. Decay was cool and all but it was tedious as hell, messed with his therapy progress (he couldn’t bring himself to touch people, no matter how hard he tried) and since Sensei offered... Well, who the hell wants to have Decay when they can have Game Inventory, which is a fully customizable portable inventory with over three hundred slots in Tomura’s forearm? Like, the hell was he going to pass on that. He can even store food and as long as it remains in there, it’s non-perishable! How OP is that?

Thirdly, Tomura became... maybe... a tiny bit enamoured with being cared for. By the time he should’ve chosen his career path, all he had going for himself was his small gaming channel on YouTube and an additional twenty kilos on his formerly severely skinny body. Sensei – or, as Tomura nowadays is allowed to call him – dad doesn’t particularly care for any of that. As long as Tomura is decently okay-ish, not thinking about ending it all or ending himself (there’s a difference), his dad’s cool with him being a loser for the most part.

Now, if only his dad could stop trying to help him conquer his anxiety...

At age twenty, Tomura’s fallen into the age old social anxiety trap. As soon as an introvert stops needing to go outside and insert themselves in various social settings, they essentially become a hermit and all kinds of contact to the outside world that hasn’t been previously established will cause major problems – in Tomura’s case extreme anxiety, over-thinking, self-harming, more anxiety, panic and, not to mention, social awkwardness if it ever comes to a meeting.

Long story short: Tomura would rather actually die than to leave the comfort of his room.

His dad, of course, knows this.

Which is why Tomura feels just the tiniest bit betrayed when the man presses an envelope into his hands, calls the whole thing a “super important mission” and throws him into the cold water by telling him it’ll entail interrupting a heroics rescue class with three heroes – one of them Thirteen (super cool quirk, is basically his former self's pro hero equivalent), one of them fucking All Might (great idea! The Symbol of Peace will surely not mind his students being put into potential danger) and... and the last one is Eraserhead.      

Eraserhead.

“You’re a sadist.” Tomura says. Not out loud, since he’s a bit of an over-obedient kid (the type who’d, you know, blindly agree to follow his adoptive father into villainy) and, more importantly, doesn’t want Sensei to know he’s aware of BDSM. That’d probably lead to a whole second sex talk with him and Tomura’s still mentally wounded from the first one, which included All for One preparing a whole Gen Z humoured PowerPoint presentation and Kurogiri demonstrating how to use condoms and tampons. Tampons. Like Tomura didn’t have a dick and weren’t gay as fuck.  

To avoid this fate he, instead, says out loud: “Alright.” and thus finds himself clutching his emotional support corgi plush whilst standing next to his emotional support black mist bartender three days later.

He’s wearing his... “villain costume”, which consists of his cleanest oversized black hoodie, a pair of black skinny jeans that barely fit over his stupidly thick ass (the zone where most of his gained fat seems to have gone) and his red sneakers. He already feels like an idiot and hasn’t even arrived at his destination yet. Superb.

“Shigaraki Tomura, are you ready?” Kurogiri asks for the third consecutive time.

Tomura shakes his head. “Nope.”

“We need to go now.”

“I don’t wanna.” Oh god, he’s starting to sound like a whiny brat. (Maybe he is.)

Kurogiri fucking clicks his tongue – since when is he even allowed to be sassy?! – and apparently doesn’t have any patience left for Tomura’s bullshit. “I am opening the gate.”

Tomura’s neck starts to itch. It’s gotten easier to ignore but he nonetheless has to gnaw on the inside of his cheek to keep away his fingers. Wouldn’t be a great first impression if the guy who broke into the USJ were such a nervous wreck that he’d scratch himself raw right in front of his idol, his dad’s nemesis, a cool rescue hero and twenty fifteen year olds.

Kurogiri nonchalantly shoves him through the gate. Asshole. Not emotional support worthy at all.

Oh shit, Tomura forgot to store away his corgi plush.

And everyone’s already looking at him. At least All Might doesn’t seem to be here.

They’re off to an amazing start.

“Who are you?” Eraserhead asks him. Oh, fuck, it’s really him. His hair is just as long as Tomura’s – such a coincidence... haha – and his eyes are glowing yellow, cutting off Tomura’s access to his own quirk. He wanted to quickly stuff the plushie into his inventory but guess what’s sure as hell not going to work now? Right. As previously established: Amazing start.

“Uh. I. I am. Well, first of all, hello.” Tomura greets. In this mangled sentence alone he had to clear his throat two times. “I’m Shigaraki Tomura. I... am searching for one Midoriya Izuku?”

Just like that, the plaza is silenced. The kids turn to one of them, the one who’s social distancing as he’s at least two metres away from everyone else, and Tomura can all at once see why.

He finds himself smiling in the face of danger. It’s not a nice smile, no, it’s the one he’d worn all those years ago when he’d still been Sensei’s apprentice. It’s the one Sensei subconsciously taught him.

Midoriya looks exactly like Sensei when he’s about to steal a quirk.

Only permanently and Sensei’s presence has nothing on his own son’s.

Tomura feels the air shift. Midoriya’s coming closer but his movements aren’t human. He knows exactly where he knows them from. For you see, Tomura’s a huge fan of horror games. He loves the thrill, the sneaking around and picking up items one needs to either redirect the monster’s attention or to kill it off. Midoriya is a jumpscare waiting to happen, a PNG picture that’s diving towards you when you’ve done something wrong, without or with only little discernible animation. (And Tomura finds himself thinking, involuntarily: “Somebody didn’t have the budget to properly animate the end boss.”)

As the boy nears, Tomura smells rain first. A quick glance at the sky has his smile widening until it crackles his dry lips.

Cloudless as can be.

“I’m Izuku, hi! Uh, what did you want from me?” The meek tone makes it only more interesting.

(Oh, Tomura now knows why Sensei left his child.)

“Ah, yes. Your – our – dad sends me. I should give you this.” With the one hand that’s not hugging the corgi to his side, he procures the letter from his hoodie pocket. Midoriya takes it slowly or, well, as slow as one can be when they’re glitching all over the place, and in the brief moment when the boy’s so very close to Tomura he can pick up on his scent, he learns what colours taste like. Or, rather, one colour but that one’s already more than enough.

Before Midoriya can retreat, four fingers of Tomura’s now empty hand land on his bi-coloured hair and give it a quick pat. He’s automatically let his pinky hover, something he hasn’t done in literal years.

“Is that all?” Eraser now asks, sounding like he’s aged ten whole years during the quick exchange.

Tomura’s confidence is through the roof at the moment. No wonder that, as he’s been catapulted into his villainy mode – a mindset he’s left behind a long time ago – and grabs a piece of nice paper and a pen out of his inventory. “Ah, actually, Eraserhead and Thirteen, could I get your autograph? I’m a big fan of yours!” He grins. Feels it widen a bit too much, opening a wound and letting blood drip down his chin.

Oh, he’s somehow missed this; the bloodcurdling terror sitting tightly underneath his pulse.

 

(Tomura now knows why Sensei chose to leave his child.

He wouldn’t have thought there’d be a being that can induce an insanity status effect on a villain of All for One’s calibre.

But it’s only fitting that if there were such a being it’d be the man’s own son.)

 

9 – Vlad King

After a long day of work, Kan likes to sit down on the couch in the teachers’ lounge and lean back with a drawn out sigh, close his eyes and hope he won’t make the same mistake of thinking he’d like being a teacher again in his next life.

Alas, this day, he finds his fellow heroics first grade homeroom teacher Aizawa already sprawled across the soft leather, looking like he’s trying to replicate the effects of a dissociative episode without actually dissociating.

Or Kan’s reading the room wrong and Shouta is dissociating.

In which case whatever it is that has the man taking up the entirety of the couch has to be at least three pay grades above Shouta’s, which are at least eight above Kan’s.

Kan gets himself and his colleague coffee, sets the cups down on the couch table and, because he has a death wish, he gently grabs Shouta by his armpits and sits him up so that he can slide on the now free spot on the couch.

But Shouta doesn’t brutally claw out his eyes like a Bengalese tiger, which means he’s actually honest-to-god done with the world.

Well, shit.

Kan presses the man’s cat-themed cup into his open hands before taking his own dog-themed one and taking a gulp. The following conversation is going to be too harrowing for a simple sip.

“So...” Kan begins and doesn’t even have to say any more, since Shouta immediately takes him up on the offer to rant at him.

“Fucking Midoriya.” Shouta hisses and exes half of his coffee, “Fu.Cking.Mi.Do.Ri.Ya” he enunciates sharply. “The kid? A nightmare. Absolute nightmare. I thought I’d have problems with Bakugou because of his aggressiveness. I thought I’d have problems with Mineta because he’s a perverted little asshole. Midoriya, though? Takes the cake. He looks deranged, his quirk is deranged, he attracts deranged situations and doesn’t even know about any of it. I’m pretty sure he’s unaware that he’s a horror monster but you know what? I could have lived with that. I could have lived with Midoriya traumatizing Mineta so bad the asshole’s now a monk practising abstinence. Really, I actually love that. But today? No, Kan, that shit’s fucked.”

Kan raises his eyebrows. “Mineta is practising what now?”

“Sexual abstinence. Hasn’t even breathed wrongly at a girl since All Might’s stupid battle trial. No wonder, Midoriya’s psychologically terrorized the fucker. Which I’m glad for because Mineta was salivating over the girls.”

“What? Like, literally salivating?”

“Literally salivating.”

“Ew” Kan scrunches up his nose. Takes another gulp. “And the Midoriya kid? What’s he done today?”

Shouta serenely smiles. Exes the rest of his cup, then slams it on the table.

“Kid’s done nothing at all.”

Kan blinks. “Nothing?” he repeats confusedly.

“Nothing at all. Nada. Was just standing there ominously.”

“Oookay?”

“And then – out of fucking nowhere, Kan. You have to imagine it. You’re pissed already because All Idiocy wasted his entire time before school. Three whole hours. How do you even spend three hours doing hero work when you stand up at six, shower, eat and need to be at school like maximum an hour later? How did he press three hours into one? I don’t understand it and he wouldn’t tell me when I asked. Anyways. Imagine you’re me, pissed off because of All Might, having a headache because Bakugou tries to blow up everything and everyone, and then a portal opens up in the middle of the USJ.”

“A portal?”

“A motherfucking portal. Purple-black mist and all and you’re thinking: Nice, just what I wanted. A villain attack on the first class trip! So, you’re getting ready to throw some punches when you notice it’s one person.”

“One?”

Shouta nods. “Well, I guess technically two since the warper’s there too. And then you notice the person is a teenager with a plush animal under his arm.”

Kan is rendered speechless.

“Yes, that’s what I thought too. Was anxious as hell, introduced himself as Shigaraki Tomura. What kind of name is that?! If that’s his civvie name then that’s even worse than Shinsou Hitoshi, Mr Mind Manipulator People User. I swear to god. Shigaraki Tomura. Turns out he’s not only an Eraserhead fanboy but also Midoriya’s secret half brother. And with ‘secret’, I mean secret to Midoriya too. Kid didn’t know him. Shigaraki gave him a letter from their shared father. I gave Shigaraki an autograph and then he left via warp gate to wherever.”

Kan finally gets his voice back. “Huh? What the hell?”

The other man snorts. “No, please, that’s not it. So, I tell Midoriya to give me the letter since it could be anything and I’d rather not have a kid explode on my watch because of a letter bomb, right?”

“Right”

“You know what was in there? Golden Mastercard on the kid’s name and a short note. Congratulations on entering UA. Love, dad. P.S.: I’ve found Tomura on the streets a couple of years ago. Don’t worry, I’m not raising him for super-villainy anymore! I know your aura doesn’t like that. Haha, just kidding! Hope I can visit soon – I love mental health quirks! What. Is that even supposed to mean?”

A short breather. A pause for thought. Kan sighs and opens his arms. “Hug?” he inquires quietly.

Shouta practically throws himself on his lap and burrows his face in Kan’s cleavage. Understandable.

Kan leans back and pats the frizzy mess Shouta calls his hair.

Man, he’s so glad he doesn’t have Midoriya in his class.

 

10 – Kyouka

Yeah, yeah. Midoriya’s scary, a monster, an otherworldly thing, yadda yadda.

She honestly doesn’t give a fuck.

Everyone’s overreacting, in her opinion.

Or maybe she’s just too much of a horror enthusiast to really care? It’s probably that. Kyouka needs to be. She can’t afford to let herself be moved too much by something like a little eldritch-ness. (If that’s even a word.)

Otherwise, she’d have lost her shit years ago.

Her hearing’s always been so much better than her mom’s.

Ghosts don’t exist. Not really.

However, fragments of people do.

Kyouka can pick them up. She hates visiting hospitals for that reason. There’s always someone dying and when they do – in the exact moment their energy leaves their mortal vessels – she hears the Whisper. Whether it’d be one last wish, a curse or a confession, she hears it all. She can’t exactly shut down her hearing, which is why she most of the time carries bulky noise-cancelling headphones with her. The Whisper is inherently otherworldly, since it’s caught somewhere between material and immaterial realms.

Which is exactly why she doesn’t really mind Midoriya.

Multi-tongued mumbles in her head about how to successfully seriously harm their classmates? Are you kidding? That’s nothing. No, actually, that is something... but something good. At least for Kyouka, who can actually decipher what they’re about.

And how to use them.

Midoriya is an endless well of information. His mumbles aren’t only extremely interesting but also helpful. Whenever the hiss starts, Kyouka is sure to listen carefully. In literally every subject, Midoriya’s guiding her through difficult concepts with the ease of a seasoned college professor. He’s sometimes daydreaming, caught up in his own mind and letting his thoughts wander to other stuff. Thermodynamics, American history, the state of today’s hero society and so, so much more.

Kyouka loves listening to him. She takes avid notes when topics catch her interest and absolutely despises Bakugou because the blond’s basically interrupting Midoriya’s podcasts.

Luckily, most of the time, nobody’s able to hear them. They’re too low, for the most part on a frequency normal people can’t perceive, and she feels privileged as hell to be the only one to pick up on them.

Not even Shouji can. His hearing might be a lot better than the others’ but his ears are built like a human’s. Kyouka’s aren’t. Hers are more advanced than any human’s or animal’s will ever be. This is the true power of her quirk – the earphone jacks are nice for attacks and to catch miniscule sounds through metre thick brick walls but her actual hearing is where her real strength lies.

Too low for others? No problem. Too loud for others? No problem either. Maybe a little overdrive but that’s it.

And now there’s Midoriya and Midoriya’s made of otherworldly whispers.

(It’s scary. It’s gripping. It’s thrilling.)

It’s like his presence is a gift handmade for Kyouka and Kyouka alone.

Sadly, that means everyone else is freaked the hell out and isolates the boy. She sees how he visibly deflates every time Uraraka finds an excuse to flee from his attempts at befriending her. Sees how Aizawa ignores his genius because he just can’t hear. Sees how everyone inches away from Midoriya because his vibe is too hard to handle, since they’re unable to adjust to it because it’s never standing still long enough to settle and become a constant in their lives.

Sees how, day by day, Midoriya’s eyes lose their unnatural shine.

And she thinks, one day after the whole USJ thing: Fuck that.

Kyouka’s tired of being like everyone else. She’s tired of being too shy (and, she admits, also a bit too scared) to approach Midoriya. Simply tired of giving any fucks she doesn’t even have in the first place.

So, at lunch, she sits down opposite of Midoriya, ignores his small flinch and demands with more confidence than she has: “What’s your favourite genre of music?”

The smile he gives her is blindingly bright.

(Also horrific but when is it not?)

And Kyouka smiles back.

Notes:

Ha, you thought I was going to make Fumikage his first friend? TOO PREDICTABLE!
(btw I also didn't know Kyouka's going to be his friend before this idea hit me)

Also, yeah, Izuku doesn't have a fear quirk. I do have an actual extended explanation for him being eldritch but it'll take a couple of chapters until you can wring it out of me, ha ha!

Man, Tomura's part was so damn long for no other reason than me being a Shiggy kinnie. Oops.

Chapter 3: Eleven through Fifteen

11 – Neito

“How dare they?!”

Itsuka gives him the usual side-eye and tries to discern what it is that has triggered his anti-1-A agenda now. “What?” she asks, as if she really doesn’t see what the problem is. Oh, how she loves to pretend that there’s nothing wrong with their neighbouring class! But Neito. Neito knows the truth.

Class 1-A has summoned an actual demon to pose as one of theirs.

It’s absolutely unfair! How are they allowed to keep an overpowered son of Satan and all 1-B has to boast is a ghost girl, who isn’t even dead! So far, unfairness seems to be a staple of UA’s 1-A-oriented politics.

Neito finds it truly detestable. He points at the demon, whose name is so fake it’s laughable: Midoriya? And he’s green-haired? Wow. One couldn’t have made it more obvious he’s a plant! ...ugh. Bad unintended pun. “This! What is this about, huh, class president?!” he shrieks.

“That’s... two people enjoying lunch together? Which could be us, for the record. I’m starving.” Itsuka deadpans, motioning towards their still untouched food.

 “Eating, pah! As if I could enjoy my lunch, knowing UA decided to – unheroically, might I add – keep a demon around! Demons are creatures from Hell and you, dear class prez, let it slide that one of them resides in our ranks?! Think about poor Ibara! She must be praying overtime just to keep the demonic aura suppressed!” Neito cries out his woes, only half lying. Ibara has been clutching her cross and sending out prayers whenever Midoriya’s near. In fact, he saw her consorting with Tokoyami Fumikage, evidently 1-A’s very own Harry Price and Mineta Minoru, recently converted monk who was targeted by Midoriya’s ire.

Neito thinks they’re overdoing it a bit (and that’s got to mean something, coming from him of all people) because he overheard them talking about exorcising Midoriya. He hates the fact that 1-A got the advantage of consorting with one of hell’s occupants but he’d never kick the aspiring demonic hero out had he happened to be part of 1-B instead... and that, dear readers (oh yes, if Neito wants to break the fourth wall, he’ll do so in a flashy and magnificent manner!), just goes to show, yet again, the superiority of Class 1-B.
(Ibara might’ve fainted if Midoriya were one of theirs but her loyalty towards her class would have surely outpaced her religious aversion of him. Of that, Neito’s absolutely sure! ...okay, maybe only seventy-ish percent sure but whatever. He’d have talked her into accepting Midoriya – and the advantages that come with his presence, like demonic contracts and such, which far outweigh his mindfuckery.)

Itsuka sighs. She just shakes her head, evidently giving up on the entire conversation. Like the fiend that she is, she then digs into her meal and firmly keeps her eyes shut... as if a little blindness could part her from Neito’s ultimate wisdom. (Naive.)

“I see...” he murmurs, gaining vigour with every word he speaks, “I see that you fail to see. Just keep yourself blind – metaphorically as well as physically – and don’t you dare beg me for forgiveness when dear Ibara collapses after her prayers become fainter and fainter until, one day, they’ll cease forever.” He ends his speech by whispering the dark premonition into Itsuka’s ear.

However, like the saying goes: It goes in one ear and out the other. “Man, did you try the oni giri yet? They’re heavenly.”

Neito grimaces, ignoring his own body’s whining because he hasn’t actually tried the oni giri yet. “Heavenly, yes, unlike our demonic problem at hand.”

Itsuka opens her eyes again. For a very long moment, she stares him down with raised eyebrows. “Neito, just eat your lunch or I’m gonna force-feed it to you.”

Unluckily for Neito, Itsuka means her threats. Which is why he ultimately has to submit and postpone finding a satisfying solution to the Midoriya Problem for the time being.

Damn you, Kendo Itsuka! Damn you and your very much correct opinion on Lunch Rush’s oni giri.

 

12 – Fumikage

Wednesday descends upon Fumikage’s vessel with a warning grumble from the gods above. A single wave of shivers unsettles the inky black feathers on his head as he dresses the birdcage that is his slowly decomposing body – mortal, unlike his endless soul – in the colours of UA. He looks at himself in the bathroom mirror, the fluorescent light letting the shadows stand out starkly, and grasps the talisman hanging from his neck.

“I never imagined I would need to battle the forces of darkness so soon after entering high school.” he voices out loud, velvety smooth tone echoing slightly in the white-tiled room. Fumikage meets his own determined eyes within the depths of the mirror and whispers, with the very same conviction he once upon a time decided to dedicate to heroics: “Whatever it takes... I will find a way to pierce Midoriya with the light of justice and remove this vile curse that has been cast upon our class.”

After a moment of hesitation, he swears with a finality only those who dance with the unknown forces could muster: “Or I will no longer be able to call myself Tokoyami Fumikage, the Jet-Black Hero: Tsukuyomi.”

 

He has been a silent observer right from the beginning. Fumikage remembers all too well that fateful day when he first met his sworn nemesis.

Midoriya Izuku sat in front of him in the auditorium and barely kept his demonic glee at bay when Present Mic explained the exam. At first, he seemed like your usual eager middle school boy. Maybe taller than average, yes. But Fumikage smelt it on him – the stench of insanity; the mist of abyss. And he saw the Dark One’s aura sizzling sickeningly as it warped unnaturally, became stronger the longer they were seated there, as if it were undergoing change... perhaps even siphoning energy off of unsuspecting exam takers. (There was another boy, Fumikage recalls. The one who later turned out to be his vice class president, Iida Tenya, who had caught his eyes across the seat row. He’d been prepared to scold Midoriya when he, all of a sudden, stiffened and turned pale. Oh yes, Fumikage remembers the Dark One’s technique to subdue his enemies.)

Fumikage didn’t say a word to the creature. It was a priority to gather facts and compile them before deciding on a course of action. He observed as the entity known as Midoriya made a mockery of their teacher on the first day of school. He, too, sat back and watched as Mineta and Uraraka went up against Midoriya and his secret worshipper, Bakugou Katsuki. While all the others equally put their attentiveness to all four members of that battle trial group, Fumikage focused on Midoriya alone.

He and he alone saw what truly occurred that day.

The forces of darkness that led to Mineta’s capture were undeniable in their strength and preciseness, which, admittedly, worries Fumikage deeply. Usually, supernatural activity to this extent simply did not happen... or it didn’t happen for long before the natural order restores itself by equalizing the Other’s might and their lifespan. Complex theory compressed: Midoriya should not exist as he does, since he’s too powerful. Normally, a being such as him would have imploded upon unleashing his forces upon a human.

There is only one explanation for why Midoriya is still alive and it... it scares Fumikage.

Because if it’s true, then he isn’t dealing with a thing that trespassed from one realm to another. No, he would instead be dealing with something that was born into this world.

A manmade monster.

Either way, Fumikage has to be extremely careful. One wrong move and the Dark One’s going to notice his silent observer, which would mean one thing and one thing alone for Fumikage: His death.

Therefore, he treads with great care. Takes care to never be alone with Midoriya. Takes care to never leave others alone with him either, lest he wants a repeat of the Mineta Situation.

There is one other thing he will certainly need to do... and soon, unless he wants to bypass his chance to get rid of Midoriya once and for all during the Sports Festival, where... accidents... are prone to occur.

 

It is still Wednesday when Fumikage leans back in his black leather armchair and the heavens growl menacingly. Outside has become a raging wolf, as the wind howls and droplets of rain audibly splatter against the wall of his apartment like frothing, anger-induced drool. The room is dimmed, not only because of the heavy blood red curtains framing his window but also because evening is slowly pushing afternoon aside. One single light source, an unscented white candle, has just been given flame.

Fumikage internally debates for a second before he, too, swiftly sets light to his pipe he’s stuffed the day before.  

“You smoke?!” a shrill voice demands.

Fumikage takes a deep drag. Exhales. “Occasionally.”

“Are you quite sure you should do something like this when you are aiming to become a sword of God to uphold justice?” another voice – softer, gentler and as light as an angel’s feather – inquires.

Dark Shadow bursts from him to steal a drag while Fumikage is left to answer: “No serious medium is complete without an unhealthy coping mechanism, I’m afraid. This sort of work – dealing with spirits, the supernatural and the... unnatural... – is not for the faint of heart. Were it not for my indulgence here” he taps the pipe after his companion presses it back into his hand, “I couldn’t have possibly kept my sanity as intact as it is to this day. With Heroics, you can ask others for help. With medial work, however, you are most often on your own. True mediums are rare. And solitude, dear friends, is even more harmful when you are facing an envoy of darkness.”

One of his guests, the shorter one, nods to show his understanding. “I know what you mean...” Mineta Minoru says quietly and withdrawn as he visibly remembers his encounter with Midoriya, “Ever since that day, I have been practising abstinence to... to cleanse myself. Nowadays, I can’t even look at porn without having a panic attack. A-and it was just this one time for me. I don’t want to know how much being an actual medium messes you up.”  

Fumikage sends a plume of smoke to his star-speckled black ceiling. His eyes find the flickering candlelight. “I took my first case when I was thirteen. It’s only been two years but what I have witnessed during that time... well, I don’t want to bore you with longwinded stories. Just know it was a lot.” He sighs, continues: “In any case, the reason why I have invited you to my humble abode is not to share the tragedy that was bestowed upon me at birth. No, quite contrary, what I desire of you is your aid in the perhaps most significant case I have taken on yet.”

The second guest blinks at him, her long green thorny hair rustling in curious fashion. “Our aid?” Shiozaki Ibara repeats, ideas undoubtedly already forming in her bright mind. Fumikage knows her to be a clever young woman and his preconception is confirmed when she lets out a small gasp, puts her hands in front of her mouth in a praying gesture and asks with fear in her eyes: “This... is this about him? About...” she swallows before whispering, as if his name alone could summon him into this very room: “Midoriya Izuku?”

All at once, the flame of the candle goes out, Mineta sobs and Shiozaki clutches her rosary, uttering prayer after prayer. Only the fact that Dark Shadow’s staying calm instead of raising alarm has Fumikage remaining collected as ever, fishing once more for his ornate pure silver lighter and lighting the candle anew.

The light reveals a much paler Shiozaki and a ghostly white Mineta.

Fumikage feels awful for bringing them here; for asking for help when he knows the other teenagers have only briefly dabbled into the realms of the supernatural. Alas, he thinks as he sucks on his pipe, this is not a one-man mission.

“I see you are acquainted with Class 1-A’s dilemma.” he addresses Shiozaki, “I apologize for calling you in when you are lacking experience in the field – both of you.” He eyes his guests equally, making sure they are ready to hear what he will propose.

A minute or two pass by in solemn silence before Mineta breaks: “Why us?”

And that’s the question, isn’t it? Why them? Well, Fumikage has his reasons, of course. He would never endanger other people willy-nilly; making them enter his world is not his preferred choice of action. He knows that things like these – civilians poking their heads into such matters – can quickly go sideways.

However... “You are both training to become heroes, therefore you are bound to your oath to protect mankind.” he answers, “More importantly, you are the only ones who see the danger he poses. You, Mineta-san, were targeted by him. You know how he operates... how his presence feels. In this, you have an advantage not even I can claim. You, Shiozaki-san, are practising a religion that opposes forces the likes of his. I have observed you during lunch hours and you seem to take your worship seriously, which could greatly turn the tables in our favour when dealing with... him. Should he have the ability of possession, he would be unable to enter your body as it is a temple – or, more accurately – a fortress of pure religious devotion. You are a trump card against the Dark One’s abyssal might.”

“Oh” Mineta voices faintly.

Shiozaki bows her head slightly. “I understand now.” she says, “I am honoured you think so highly of my devotion. Why now, though? Shouldn’t we wait until we have more information and absolved internships that’ll be beneficial in training our combat abilities?”

Mineta frowns. “No” he shakes his head, “We can’t risk him gaining even more strength. If we wait, then he, too, is going to benefit from the internships.”

“Not only that” Fumikage says, “but the main reason why we need to act urgently is that he’s starting to entice others. Previously, only his secret worshipper Bakugou dared to approach him but now... I fear for our classmates. Jirou has begun interacting with the Dark One and should we not step in now...”

“Oh no!” the green-haired girl gasps, “Jirou-san could be in serious danger!”

“Exactly.” Fumikage agrees.

“Bu-but how can we stop him?!” Mineta demands, “Do you have a plan? I’m not going to face this monstrosity without one!”

For the first time in this conversation, Dark Shadow emerges to speak for herself: “’Course Fumi and I have a plan, who d’ya think we are? We’re professionals! Fumi’s gonna tell you all the details!”

“Indeed I will” Fumikage says, patting his shadowy companion’s head. Dark Shadow easily takes offense on his behalf, which she really shouldn’t – he knows he, they, are particular individuals and can come across as pretentious or worse when one isn’t thoroughly acquainted with them.

“Um... sorry, I didn’t want to insinuate something.” Mineta apologizes.

(He has matured greatly since the incident, Fumikage muses to himself.)

“No worries, Mineta-san. Let’s go over my tentative plans and afterwards, you tell me whether I can count on you or not. I won’t hold it against you if you decide to opt out from the beginning or at any point during our preparation phase.”

“I will hold it against you and kick your ass if you let us down!” Dark Shadow harrumphs with crossed wings, which has Fumikage and the other chuckling. (Mineta hesitantly and Shiozaki gracefully.) Trust her to break the tension.

The slightly lifted atmosphere has Fumikage bouncing up from his seat with a wry grin. He walks to the corkboard that’s currently hidden by a black veil and lifts it maybe a little more enthusiastically than he really needs to. “This here” he says meaningfully as both of his guests let out simultaneous sounds of disbelief, “is every bit of information I could gather about our target.”

“This is insane...!” Mineta murmurs wonderingly.

“Incredible!” Shiozaki comments as she reads over a few of the manifold points.

“Oh, and here we have” Fumikage opens up the large wall scroll right next to the corkboard, “all the plans Dark Shadow and I made.”

There is silence. There is astonishment. There is hope.

After a ten minute rundown of the most important parts, Fumikage ends the spontaneous meeting with two promises from his new acquaintances.

The sense of accomplishment almost manages to drown out his guilt over having kept quiet about Midoriya’s potential earthly nature.

 

13 – Shouto

The day of the Sports Festival arrives quicker than Shouto can comprehend. He blinks awake at four o’clock in the morning and sits in his dark room for an additional ten minutes before he crawls out of bed and heads into the kitchen, where the first step of his plan to win the festival will take place shortly.

Leading up to this morning, he’s spent the last three days obsessing over Fuyumi’s cookbooks and watching tutorials on culinary basics. He now knows how to cut vegetables correctly and how to season just the right amount. The Todoroki household also does not come with a rice cooker, so he had to learn how to cook rice the right way as well. It made him anxious to learn that there’s more than a fair share of different rice types but, in the end, he managed to choose one he thinks will perform just fine.

His shitty father was, of course, not impressed by Shouto ordering 22.500 yen Kinmemai Premium rice with 3.000 yen express shipping but when he gave him the reason for this purchase he was... well, alright, he still wasn’t particularly appreciative of his son’s decision making. Not that Shouto cares about his old man’s opinion when Endeavor’s own decisions led to such ridiculous things as Shouto’s existence.

Shouto rubs the sleep out of his eyes and trots to the pile of premium ingredients he bought online (all in all priced at just a little over 80.000 yen). He checks everything again, then washes his hands and gets going.

The meal he’s cooking is deceptively simple: Onigiri. One would think rice balls would be hard to mess up... but one would think wrong. Shouto had to do exactly eight test runs with cheaper rice until he was finally satisfied with his own handiwork.

After washing the rice, he puts it in a pot, measures out the exact amount of water he needs and pours it in with spiked adrenaline. As soon as he realizes he didn’t accidentally cause a disaster already, he sighs in relief and places the pot on the stove, which he turns on. (That’s an important step; failing to turn on the stove has the undesired effect of the rice not cooking at all, wonder of wonders.)

Shouto uses his phone’s timer to add a few alarms – some to stir the rice to keep it from scorching, others to remind him of the fact that he needs to add certain ingredients to the rice at different times. Usually, he’d have full trust in his capabilities to remember simple stuff like that but he only has the one attempt this day. There is no margin for failure here.

Luckily, everything goes according to plan and when the last timer goes off, stating “praise yourself if done right, punish yourself if done wrong”, Shouto hugs himself and takes in a calming deep breath. Then he packs the salty onigiri and vegetable stir fry bento, as well as that fancy glass bottle of mildly sparkling water infused with lemon juice, in his school bag and is out the house before Fuyumi even has the chance to gently draw him into a hug and tell him it’s alright if he loses.

Shouto usually listens to music with both earbuds in and as loudly as possible but today he only has one in and the other stuffed into his collar. He has it playing on approximately half volume and by the time he arrives at the stadium (an hour and a half too early at that), his hand has wandered off more than a dozen times to make sure the food is still safe and sound and that he hasn’t somehow managed to create an elaborate visual hallucination of there being food when it’s never been there in the first place.

Maybe he’s being a little bit paranoid.

Or he’s just appropriately cautious. He doesn’t know which one it is.

Shouto passes the security check without much trouble, even though there’s one moment where his heart stutters as the officer’s quirk passes over his bag.

But then he’s good to go and... and there he is.

He is sitting in Class 1-A’s waiting room and wringing his sturdy hands. His motions and gestures are captivating – one part of Shouto is awed and the other fearful, just as it is intended. Jirou Kyouka, his confidant, is leaning against his side, listening to the low earthy chants only she can decipher. (Shouto doesn’t know whether it’s because of her ear mutation or because she’s his miko.) She whispers something in his ear and all of a sudden, Shouto’s knees are quivering under the attention of jade green eyes and his hands are starting to sweat.

“Todoroki-kun?” he inquires.

Shouto swallows down his fear and nods.

Jirou asks: “What business d’ya have with Izu?” and Shouto is once more confirmed in his deductions.

“I, um. May I have a moment alone with you, Midoriya-sama?”

“-sama?! Uh, o-okay?” Midoriya says and Jirou snorts before wishing them a good time with a casual swish of her hand. After Shouto bows slightly to her – he’d never disrespect a miko as powerful as her – they search for an empty alcove to have their conversation in. They end up standing face to face in a dim unused corridor.

Shouto’s heart is beating out of his chest. Nonetheless, he swiftly offers him the bento and the high quality water.

“Uh, why...?”

“This is an offering to you, Midoriya-sama. To... appease your might today.”

“What?”

Shouto kneels down. Shit, shit, shit. He hopes he didn’t fuck this up already. He sounds unimpressed. “Midoriya-sama” he says, keeping his posture submissive and unthreatening, “I need to win the Sports Festival. That’s why... that’s why I’m asking you to hold back your full powers.”

That was the false thing to say. Shouto tastes the forest. Only due to his father’s “training”, he’s able to suppress a fearful whine.

“You want me to lose on purpose?!”

“N-No! That’s not what I want at all!” Shouto all but whimpers and, luckily, this seems to be enough to make the wave of nauseating fresh taste recede. “It’s just...” he continues, hoping for the best, “You’re objectively the strongest in our class – no, what am I saying... you’re the strongest in our school because of... you know.” Your godly nature, he doesn’t say out loud.

“What?!” Midoriya hisses quietly, “What do you mean?”   

Holy shit, I’m dead, Shouto thinks hysterically as a suffocating amount of pure nature fills his throat and nostrils. It’s as if he’s overdosing on oxygen, something as natural as breathing turned against him. Now he knows what it means to upset a god.

“The- the thing we don’t talk about! I can keep a secret, please! Please don’t-” Shouto sobs.

Another whoosh and every inkling of Midoriya’s power sort of just... vanishes for a moment. It should’ve been relieving but Shouto’s terrified. That duality is stifling – it’s as if time itself has halted in its tracks.

“How do you know about it? About me?” is asked so softly he almost doesn’t catch it.

Shouto swallows, mouth dry. “I... have a background, dealing with stuff like this.” he admits and thinks of gentle feminine hands guiding him through his maternal family’s shrine. On some days, when Endeavor agreed to let him rest, his mother brought him to the Himura’s residence, which is located right next to the shrine dedicated to the founder of the family, Himura Reiko, a pacifistic miko who lived almost two hundred years ago and guided the people of her ravaged village through the rough times of the Quirk Wars. After his mother was institutionalized, his sister continued the tradition, although, in recent years, Endeavor demanded more and more time of Shouto.

When was the last time he visited the Himura Shrine? Has it been two years already?

The steady flow of life slowly returns to its natural state.

“Oh, I didn’t know... well, it makes sense, in hindsight. Do you want to share the bento with me? I didn’t get to eat breakfast.”

Shouto’s mouth plops open in wonder. A kami wants to eat with him? “O-of course, Midoriya-sama!”

Midoriya sits down next to him and, suddenly, everything that once made him overwhelming and frightening softens immensely. No longer does the forest feel dark and dreary but warm and inviting and beautifully alive.

“Um, you don’t have to call me Midoriya-sama. My friends call me Izu – uh, only if you want, of course!”

Oh.

“Izu, huh? Then call me Shouto.”

Izu smiles and it feels like the first day of summer – sunny and blooming.

Oh!  

Shouto... Shouto has been blessed by this deity.

As they eat, side by side, the kami asks him quietly: “Um, I’m not good at this friendship thing but Kyou-chan said to share things with each other – so, ah, do you want to share something with me?”

Shouto, who’s never been one to confide in others, and who’d usually never disclose anything about his messed up family, finds himself starting his tale with: “Have you ever heard about quirk marriages?”

And Yatsukamizuomitsuno, god of the forest, god of life and death, listens.

 

14 – Setsuna

First of all, Setsuna doesn’t know what’s going on.

She thinks the unrest in Ibara has something to do with a Class 1-A student – is she evolving into another Neito or what? – but in any case, whatever it is has some people acting real strange.

Setsuna watches as some Bakugou Katsuki says he’s gonna win instead of actually giving the school pledge. Is that even allowed? Well, Midnight doesn’t seem to particularly mind. Okay. Setsuna looks around a bit, tries to find her parents in the stands but doesn’t succeed. Man, this stage is hella big.

Ah, alright. The first part is an obstacle course. She thinks she’s going to do well on that, since she can just split and manoeuvre through the obstacles that way. She’s glad that third year – Toogata or whatever – made the school reconsider materials because now she gets to have a split-able gym uniform instead of having to be extra careful with her quirk. She doesn’t wanna end up naked on TV, no thanks.

“Start!”

The candy cane kid freezes over the ground but Setsuna lets herself float over the heads of the others and through the narrow gate. She sees Ibara carrying a very small purple 1-A kid on her shoulders. What the hell? It’s her decision but, man, this is a competition first and foremost.

Setsuna’s kinda intrigued, though, especially when she sees the purple one discreetly throw sticky balls at some green-white haired boy with a leaky fear quirk. Aren’t they in the same class? She opts to observe what Ibara and Purple Orbs are up to, since she only wants to pass through to the next round instead of going for podium placements.

What the actual-?! Fear quirk is trapped by the balls under the robots from the entrance exam and apparently can’t move his arms. Do they want to kill him or what?!

Luckily, Candy Cane takes notice and freezes the robots, then comes to Fear Quirk’s aid and uses his ice to freeze off the balls. Fear Quirk then tears off a sheet of metal from a robot, for some reason.

Setsuna watches open-mouthed and wide-eyed as Ibara and her companion try for Fear Quirk’s life again when they arrive at the trench. Ibara – religious, caring, angelic Shiozaki Ibara – stealthily sends her vines to Fear Quirk’s feet. Only the intervention of a support course student, because Candy Cane is a try-hard who wants to win and left them all in the dust, prevents Fear Quirk from tripping head-first into the abyss below. Yeah, what the hell indeed.

“Ibara, what’re you doing?!” Setsuna screams to be heard.

The answer she receives is as puzzling as it is worrying: “I’m cleansing the world from evil!”

Setsuna thinks this whole hero thing must’ve fucked with Ibara’s head or something. She watches as Fear Quirk advances fast with Ibara’s attention on her instead of his early demise. He digs up mines at the last stage after he sparks up green and simply hops from pillar to pillar.

Setsuna herself easily bypasses the trench while Ibara struggles to find balance with her vines. She hears a “BOOM!” that’s louder than Bakugou and somehow Fear Quirk lands himself on first place. Setsuna herself is seventh, which suits her just fine.

Midnight explains what the next event’s going to be – a team event – and that Fear Quirk has ten million points. Uh, okay. Setsuna would have usually built a team with Ibara, since their quirks combine well, but she’d rather not risk it with how... unstable she seems to be today. Therefore, she goes for the General Education kid, who was all “I’m gonna join the hero course” when she saw him in front of 1-A’s class.

“Yo, you looking for a teammate?” she asks with a sharp-toothed smile. The boy – Shinsou, as he introduces himself – seems to be relieved at her arrival. Together, they find themselves two others: Asui Tsuyu (“Call me Tsu, ribbit.”) and Shouji Mezou, both from 1-A.

She takes a glance at the other team formations. Fear Quirk, Candy Cane, a girl with long earlobes and the Support Course student are standing in a circle, while Ibara, Purple Orbs, a boy with a bird head and a boy with a thick tail are all glaring daggers at them. Setsuna hopes this isn’t going to end ugly.

Shinsou frowns. He points at the two teams. “What going on with them?”

Tsu answers: “Tokoyami thinks Midoriya-chan is a demon and wants to exorcise him. It’s obvious he’s wrong but he wouldn’t let me talk him down, ribbit. I just hope Midoriya-chan gets his odd aura under control because half of our class is angst-y about it and it’s starting to get on my nerves.”

Shouji agrees: “I don’t care about Midoriya’s thing. It’s just annoying how everyone’s reacting to it.”

“Ooooh, so that’s why Ibara tried to kill him? Because she thinks he’s a demon?” Setsuna muses.

Shinsou turns to her. “I’m sorry, did you just say she tried to kill him?!”

“Yeah” she nods, “Like two times in the obstacle course.”

The frog girl pats him on the shoulder when Shinsou fails to produce a coherent sentence. “It’s alright.” Tsu says pragmatically, “As long as we target the other teams and keep far away from Team Todoroki, Team Bakugou and Team Mineta, we’re probably not going to be involved in... that, ribbit.”

“Let’s, uh. Let’s do that, then, I guess.”

 

Setsuna is elected rider, since her ability doesn’t come with much stability. With Shinsou and Tsu at the front and Shouji at the back, they’re good to go.

Tsu’s bit of wisdom proves to be essential, as Team Mineta and Team Bakugou immediately target Team Todoroki. Their own team gets by just fine. Taking headbands from Gen-Ed, Support Course and other hero course teams is maybe unfairly easy because Tsu’s tongue and Setsuna’s splitting are both made for this but they really don’t care. Shinsou keeps his quirk hidden but he gives good calls, while Shouji’s ears warn them from attackers.

Team Setsuna takes fourth place without involving themselves in the death match between Teams Todoroki, Mineta and Bakugou.

And Setsuna ends up with three new numbers in her phone, which is altogether more important than the festival itself, in her opinion.

 

15 – Enji

After his failure to procure a win in the first event, Shouto finally shows his prowess and gets his team to first place in the second event. Enji is reluctantly proud but... Shouto still isn’t giving it his all. He’s stubbornly clinging to his ice, never using his fire and Enji will have a word with his son before the third stage. (His masterpiece needs to show he has what it takes to usurp All Might's throne in due time.)

So Enji stands up and walks out of his seat row to Class 1-A’s changing rooms.

Enji blinks.

What?

Why is the third stage already advancing?

He turns to Burnin, who accompanied him to the festival. “Kamiji, what’s going on? Why are they fighting already?”

“Hah? Old man, what are ya sayin’? The half hour’s up!”

“But. I. Didn’t I leave to talk to my son?”

Burnin turns to him and raises her eyebrows. “Eh, you don’t remember? You stood up, walked away, came back five mins later and said something about Shouto being unavailable. You goin’ senile?”

Enji shakes his head, stays silent. Something must have happened but he really doesn’t remember.

There’s a foreign taste in his mouth. He sniffs the air. “Is it just me or does it smell like pine in here?”

 

+1 – All Might

Toshinori is cheering when his boy lands in first place the second time. He’s grinning from ear to ear. When he told his successor to let himself be seen, he didn’t think Midoriya would do that well with a quirk he received only weeks prior.

“Come on, Izuku!” he whispers, accidentally using his boy’s first name without noticing the slip-up.

His boy’s first fight is against young Ojiro.

Oh! Ojiro goes out flying! “FUCK YES!” Toshinori screams in elation, scaring just about everyone in his vicinity. “Oops, haha, sorry...” he apologizes sheepishly when an old lady whacks him on the knee with her cane.  

But even then, his grin can’t be tamed.

He chose well.

Notes:

it should be noted I tried to research religious practises for this chapter but idk if I succeeded - let's just say any discrepancies are because MHA plays in the future (and any occultism discrepancies are because Tokoyami doesn't know jack shit tbh)

Shouto: I know who you are! *points to the deer god in Pricess Mononoke* THAT'S YOU!
Izuku: I thought we were talking about One for All?

btw idk who Harry Price is, I just searched for known mediums. Like I wanted Tokoyami to be a medium and Ibara & Minoru to be like Ed & Lorraine Warren. Hope you got that kinda vibe from it because I tried real hardddd

Notes:

you won't believe how hard this idea hit me in the middle of the night
also THE TAGS IN MY DOC FOR THIS FIC?? I need to show them to you at some point lol

(Credit to myself, who drew Scary!Izuku)

tumblr: @droplet-dread-cat

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 10 of Differ-Dekus