There's Murder in His Past (Can an Assassin Be a Hero?)

by nameless_571

Summary:

Midoriya Izuku spent his last year of middle school in Kunugigaoka’s stigmatized class 3-E, meticulously trained to be one of the country’s top assassins. For a full year, he and his classmates were taught everything there was to know on how to shoot, stab and kill.

And they succeeded. Korosensei, the Tentacle who blew up the moon, was dead— killed by his own students’ hands.

But now that everything was over, could Izuku follow his dream and become a hero? What would his experiences change in his trajectory?

Chapter 1: One step away

It was interesting how fast things changed, Izuku thought.

 

If anyone asked himself of a year ago what he thought of attending UA— in the hero course nonetheless— the middle schooler would only sight longingly. It was a dream, but at that time— kicked down to his lowest point in life— he had been convinced it would never come true.

 

In comparison, if anyone asked little Izuku of two years ago the same question, they’d likely be met with childish wonder and an excited mutter storm about all the great heroes that had the school as their Alma Mater. 

 

Present Izuku though, even as he straightened up his crisp UA blazer, looking over the naval blue details that marked him as a hero-in-training— couldn’t help but feel oddly melancholic.

 

A chime came from his phone, interrupting his mirror staredown.

~~~~ State Secrets ~~~~
9 Unread messages

 

Double Agent: Does anyone else feel like… weirdly sad?

Local Zoologist: yeah

Local Zoologist: it kinda feels like im leaving everything behind

Local Zoologist: dont know if im ready to just be part of a normal class again

Monkey Bars: Same

Ball Handler: Same.

Ball Handler: …

Ball Handler: @Psycopath did you change my nickname again?

Psychopath: idk what ur talking abt :/

Izuku let out a smile at his old classmates’ antics. It made him feel better— less inadequate— knowing they shared the same feelings he did.

 

He was starting at UA, hero class 1-A, the first step for his dream-come-true. But he was also leaving Kunugigaoka. None of the ex 3-E students applied for the school, and knowing his new classmates wouldn’t share his experiences— knowing he would constantly have to hide numerous secrets from them— it put a damper on his excitement.

 

Hinano’s words from the group chat came back to mind, and Izuku couldn’t help but agree. It had been so long since he last experienced a fully normal class experience— if being bullied every second of the day could count as normal. He wondered how different it would be.

 

Would it feel weird to not be at the bottom of the barrel class again, but instead shoved to the spotlight?

 

Would he miss the exhilarating energy of parkourling through a forest every day before school?

 

Would his fingers itch for a gun whenever roll-call started?

 

 

---

UA’s building was just as grandiose as Izuku remembered from the entrance exam. Imposing white walls towered over him, guarding over a great gate easily tall enough to fit most mutations.

 

It was early— there was still almost an hour until classes were set to start for the day— yet scattered masses of students were already arriving. Starstruck, nervous and determined expressions colored their faces as they crossed the threshold towards the main campus.

 

Izuku threaded forwards at a leisurely pace. He ran his fingers over the hallways’ walls, taking care to feel for any indents or odd textures. Cameras watched every corner of the space— some hidden, while others stood out clearly with blinking lights against the pristine surfaces.

 

The school’s air felt less stuffy than that of the city, but it didn’t compare to the freeing breeze of Kunugigaoka’s isolated forest building. It was… different.

 

There were many people around despite the early hours— teachers crossing the hallways, upper-year students greeting each other after the long vacation, cleaning and maintenance staff performing the last check-ups before classes began. Compared to 3-E, where eyes didn’t reach and nothing would get done if not for the students’ own effort, the place felt almost crowded.

 

Izuku used his extra time to explore UA’s main structure. He felt too inadequate in the face of the new environment to talk to anyone before it was strictly necessary, and too restless to remain stationary, so mentally mapping the long hallways would have to suffice.

 

He made sure to keep to the shadows— his plain face and featherlight footsteps did wonders for remaining hidden, although he knew the characteristic hero course uniform took away from the effect.

 

Walks like that— in which he appeared more as a background feature than a member of the picture, letting his eyes calmly wash over the scene, taking in escape routes and deconstructing the logistics of a place— always did wonders to calm him down.

 

Izuku tapped a constant rhythm against the sheath hidden beneath his pants’ waistband— a calming tick he’d developed sometime during last year. He let a deep breath out, feeling his heart rate lessen with the comforting stream of information as he finally deemed to travel towards his assigned classroom.

 

He hoped it would be a good day.

---

Contrary to what other teachers at UA liked to think, there was a method to Aizawa Shouta’s madness.

 

He was the only full underground hero on staff, teaching full time while also performing dangerous night-time patrols. Because of that, his work hours were, quite frankly, shit— cue the hideous yellow sleeping bag he carried around everywhere.

 

After getting a look at his schedule, most people respected that decision— god knows how else he’d managed the sheer minimum necessary sleep otherwise. Still, despite that— or because of it— they often questioned the need of having Eraserhead take on such an important position within the school when it clearly conflicted so badly with his health.

 

But Shouta knew, and Nedzu— that genius rat bastard— agreed about how significant it was to have someone with his experiences and background responsible for class 1-A.

 

The first day of classes was his favorite. He had, since his second year of teaching, full explicit permission from the Rat to scare his students shitless and instill the fear of himself on them— and then analyse their reactions— usually with a threat of expulsion.

 

(No, he didn’t actually expel nearly as many people as he was famed to. Last year’s mess was an unfortunate outlier derived from many separate incidents and mistakes that no one was happy with.)

 

Shota jumped down from a nearby vent a couple of minutes before the bell rang and positioned himself— in his sleeping bag— right by the open classroom door.

 

Within moments he felt eyes bear into his form. Good. At least some of them were paying attention. Unsurprisingly, he recognised two of the students who perceived him as Jirou and Shoji. Both had quirks that enhanced their senses and had probably heard the grating sound when he opened the vent’s entrance.

 

Aoyama, who sat closest to the door and had the clearest view of Shouta’s yellow sleeping bag, and Todoroki— Endeavor’s son who wore a very obvious, very alarming burn scar on his face— also perceived him shortly after.

 

That was four people out of a class with twenty— wait, no. He hadn’t noticed before, but a fifth pair of eyes had gotten sight of him: green and focused, a piercing gaze that should not belong to someone just out of middle school.

 

Midoriya’s attention moved away from Shouta after a moment and he sighed. If the kid’s oddly bare school records weren’t enough of an indicator, this reaction sure enough painted him with blatant Problem Child potential.

 

“If you’re here to make friends, you’ve come to the wrong place,” he finally let out, terrifying some kids in the process.

 

It was time to show them what UA was all about.

---

Fifteen minutes. That’s how long it took for the last straggler to change clothes and arrive at the gym area. A full quarter of an hour. God, were teenagers always so incompetent or had the last few months without a homeroom lowered Shouta’s resistance to bullshit?

 

Some students whined when he announced they wouldn’t be attending Orientation, and the hero had to level a quirk-infused glare in their direction to make them stop acting like petulant children. He used that moment of shock to announce that the last place on the Quirk Assessment Test would be kicked out of heroics and was rewarded with pale faces and terrified but determined expressions.

 

It was a lie— mostly. Although he preferred the term logical ruse. In truth, seeing the students’ reaction in the face of such a threat was a great tool to assess their personalities.

 

(There might, admittedly, also be some sadism involved. Hey, Eraserhead worked long hours, he would have some fun where he could.)

 

Shouta sent Bakugou forward and told him to use his quirk for the ball throw. As expected, the kid’s Explosion did a great job overcoming any sort of normal human results for the test, therefore serving as a great demonstration— although the battle cry of ‘DIE!’ had been more than a little worrying.

 

He noticed some of the kids exchange weary glances with each other at his explanation of the task and had to fight back a grimace. He knew first hand how some quirks would be able to do nothing to aid in those physical tests. It hadn’t been Shouta’s intention to undermine non-physical  powers, but he understood how that conclusion could be reached from his speech. The hero only hoped those kids would regain their trust on him once his ruse was revealed.

 

At least, he reasoned, none of them looked too distraught. There were some expressions of resignation— Kouda, Kaminari and Hagakure— that raised a couple of red flags but, overall, it seemed like the challenge had students hyping themselves up more than anything.

 

Mostly important, though: no one had turned antagonistic. That was always his biggest worry for this test— and also the cause for his first expelled student the previous year. He could forgive many errors at this point in time, but purposefully attacking and harming one’s peers was not one of those.

 

Looking over the students’ reactions, he noticed Yayorozu’s calm, and lightly amused expression. Huh. It seemed someone had figured him out already. Smart girl. But then again, considering she came from a respected family of lawyers that worked closely to heroes she might very well be aware his threat had absolutely no legal standing.

 

The remaining students appeared to have been processing Shouta’s declaration as expected— with the exception— of fucking course— of Todoroki and Midoriya, both of whom were excessively hard to read.

 

“Come on,” he called over the class, “the first test will be the 50 meter dash.”

---

The assessment went pretty well, all things considered— although, admittedly, Shouta’s standards had been significantly lowered after his last try at something similar.

 

(He still hadn’t figured out how one of his ex-first-years managed to break three bones from different people during the ball throw. His mind was only put to rest by the knowledge none of those brats would ever become heroes.)

 

Tenya, of course, managed to clear first place on the first test— his quirk was a shoe-in for that, especially with the training he did with Tensei.

 

Bakugou came in a close second place— although he managed to explode his duo tester in the process. Shouta had come really close to interfering at that point— and he would have, if the sabotage had seemed intentional. But Bakugou’s focused gaze told another story entirely, so the hero settled for ramming multiple lessons on collateral damage and situational awareness into their curriculum.

 

After that, the grip strength test showed an overwhelming lead by Shoji who, thanks to his multiple arms, would have easily broken any usual tester devices. Thankfully, UA’s were specially designed to deal with strength quirks and could easily sustain all 540kg of force.

 

For the standing long jump, Shouta was very happy to see many of his students clear the sandbox— even if Hagakure clearly cheated by throwing her shoes. 

 

(He still let her keep the score. It wasn’t everyday someone had the guts to lie to his face like that.)

 

Repeated side steps showed a surprising lead by Mineta, which appeased Shouta slightly after the boy’s frankly disappointing showing in the previous tests. Unfortunately, the good performance did not repeat itself anytime for either the sit-ups, seated toe-touches or distance run— all of which he performed admirably badly in.

 

Eraserhead had chosen to leave the ball throw for last since that was, statistically, the test most likely to yield grievous injuries. It had gone surprisingly well— even if Uraraka’s turn had them waiting for literal minutes before Shouta decided to just mark her score down as infinity.

 

That was, until Midoriya’s turn arrived.

 

The kid had been doing incredibly great in the assessment— especially taking into consideration he hadn’t used his quirk once. He had actually managed to strike seventh place by that point purely due to levels of physical fitness completely out of proportion for a still-raw first year.

 

Still, Shouta had called Midoriya to the side before his turn to the test. “Is there a reason you aren’t using your quirk?” He asked.

 

It was mostly a token question. Shouta had seen the footage from the entrance exam— how the kid’s arm broke into a mangled heap of shattered bones after a superpowered punch. The hero would not blame Midoriya for choosing against the usage of such destructive power, especially since he clearly knew how to manage without it.

 

(He remembered watching the unassuming green-haired teen destroy their robots with impressive efficiency, easily identifying and abusing their weak points during the practical. Shouta had thought they might actually have their first quirkless hero student— but then the zero-pointer appeared and he’d managed to obliterate it in a single strike.)

 

However, instead of the abashed, perhaps embarrassed expression Shouta expected, Midoriya had answered with a sharp smile. “I wanted to see if I could do it.”

 

“Do what?” He asked in return, an eyebrow raised at the boy.

 

“The test. I wanted to see if I could do it with just my skills. Without a quirk.”

 

And wasn’t that a curious answer? A kid who didn’t see his quirk as part of his skillset— at least not in the same capacity as his other physical capabilities. Such an interesting Problem Child.

 

Still, Shouta could appreciate a teen with spunk like that.

 

“Alright,” he conceded. “Do the throw quirkless and I’ll add up your score. But,” a smile with too many teeth formed on his face, “you’ll do it again. With all your power the second time.”

 

Midoriya’s answering grin was just as animalistic as his own, green eyes sharp as the kid stepped forwards towards the throwing circle with a ball in hands.

 

The teen relaxed his shoulders, setting into a throwing position with ease. Once again, Shouta noticed he seemed much more comfortable with the tests than most— if not all— of the other children.

 

Midoriya moved his body in a precise, practiced motion, releasing the ball just at the right point for it to sail fast through the air. The measuring device marked a distance of 57 meters— by far the farthest score if one dismissed quirk-assisted attempts.

 

The teen raised a hand in Shouta’s direction without wasting a second, and he complied, handing him another ball. A curious chatter started from the other students’ direction, but he paid them no mind.

 

“Go on, then,” he said, and Midoriya’s stance changed.

 

It was like watching a whole different person move. Shouta had suspected the boy to have been somewhat relaxed during the other tests— he had been putting effort, of course, but it had felt like watching someone go through practiced, repetitive motions. Still, whatever assumptions the hero had were clearly undermining the sheer focus Midoriya put on for the quirked throw.

 

His whole stance changed, feet widening into a more solid base, muscles tense and taut. The kid held the ball in hand and closed his eyes, almost in a meditative state. A moment passed, and there was light.

 

Green-blue thunderstorms of energy sang above Midoriya’s skin. Lighting crackled against the teen’s muscled arms, the humm of electricity buzzing in the air. When he opened his eyes— they shone, sparkling with toxic-green power, a deadly focus firm in their gaze.

 

Even then, Midoriya didn’t move. He waited, thoroughly still, until the lightworks seized but into a faint glimmer— his veins shining red from inside-out, faint sizzles escaping in colorful tones through his pores— only then he moved.

 

It was fast. The teen’s entire body crackled like a whip against the building anticipation. Shouta only noticed the ball leaving his hand due to the sheer wind formed from air displacement. It blew against the watching crowd, making some kids lose balance from its strength.

 

In the midst of it all, the resulting power managed to displace the beanie Midoriya had been wearing that entire time— which in turn revealed his messy green and black hair.

 

And then Bakugou screamed. “DEKU!”

 

What a mess.

 

Notes:

- Double Agent -> Kayano Kaede
- Local Zoologist -> Kurahashi Hinano
- Monkey Bars -> Okano Hinata
- Ball Handler -> Sugino Tomohito
- Psychopath -> Akabane Karma

Chapter 2: New old normal

Three days after the entrance exam…

 

There were few things more dishorienting than waking up by falling.

 

One moment, Izuku had been dreaming— a convoluted mess of sleepiness and half-remembered memories— and the next, he could feel wind as it streamed in high velocity against his face, limbs dangling aimlessly in the air and a terrifying sinking sensation in his gut.

 

Trained instincts had taken over, then, and he attempted maneuvering his body into a landing position— only to find out his arms and legs had been restrained by what felt like rope, ankles and wrists bound close together.

 

‘Huh. That’s what’s happening, then,’ he’d thought.

 

Izuku had forced his muscles to relax, recognising the familiar MO. Soon enough, his descent was interrupted, and he bounced in the air as the thick chord holding him up released its tension.

 

His bound body spun around slowly once the movement settled. He took a moment to observe the dark warehouse— industrial walls, discarded junk and dirty floors— before he came face-to-upside-down-face with the Red Devil himself.

 

“Karma,” he complained, “was this really necessary?”

 

Akabane Karma, the Psychopath of class 3-E and bane of Izuku’s existence only tsk-d dramatically in response. “That’s Agent Devil for you, Green. And I’ll let you know this was all very necessary.”

 

Izuku settled the best glare his position allowed at the other. “I thought we had agreed kidnapping other class members should only happen in extenuating circumstances.” 

 

“Yes, we did,” another voice came, and the greenete was suddenly rotated in mid-air. A hand ceased the motion just at the perfect point for Isogai’s eyes to bear into him. “Which is why this whole ordeal has been sanctioned by the council.”

 

“W-what?” He sputtered. “The council? When—”

 

“We had the vote last night,” someone had twisted the rope again, allowing Izuku to see Kataoka’s stern expression, “something you would know if you had checked your stupid phone.”

 

Well, he was fucked. Izuku briefly considered cutting up his bindings and making a run for it— but if Karma, Isogai and Kataoka were there, chances were everyone else also was, and no matter how confident he was in his own skills, there was no way the greenete would go far against 28 trained assassins.

 

“Have you calmed down already? Good boy,” Karma lightly patted his cheek, sending a burning blush through his face.

 

“Now, now, Agent Devil, don’t antagonize him,” Isogai said lightly. “We still have matters to discuss, after all.”

 

The boy slowly paced wide circles around Izuku, coming in and out of his field of vision in a motion that made him gulp in fear.

 

“You see, when class 3-E learnt our very own Agent Mutter would be taking the Hero practical exam for the Great UA, we felt really inspired. So much so, we decided to cheer for you,” he continued. “It was really great. We all sat together— in this same warehouse, in fact— and got one of those huge projectors. Then, Ritsu managed to hack into the school’s servers, and hooked us up to some cameras from the practical exam so we could all watch and root for our Pet Bush live.”

 

Izuku grimaced. He had really hoped she wouldn’t agree to the others’ antics. No matter how intelligent principal Nedzu was, when it came to informatics and cybersecurity his High Specs could do nothing against Ritsu’s… everything.

 

“The whole thing was quite fun. We got to eat popcorn and watch superpowered children who had clearly never done a pushup in their lives try to go against robots— and let me tell you, Green, there were some very embarrassing scenes. For instance, there was this one kid who decided to wave his fresh new quirk around and punch that huge robot, and ended up with a very broken arm because of it— oh wait! That was you.” 

 

Isogai had paused his pacing next to Kataoka. Both their gazes stared at Izuku with deadly intensity— he wouldn’t be surprised if there was a bit of blood lust in the mix.

 

“Come on, Agent Mutter. Where did this bone-breaking quirk come from? Spill.”

 

“I can’t tell you!” He sputtered. “I-it’s a state secret!” 

 

“Seriously, Greenie?” Karma walked into his view, arms crossed and face twisted in disappointment. “That’s your excuse? Our entire class is one big state secret in a trenchcoat. You can do better than that.” 

 

And, well— Izuku really had no defense after that.

 

So he told them. About meeting All Might after Korosensei’s death, about the hero’s smaller form and his devastating injury, about One For All and how Izuku was made to train intensively for a full month before Yagi felt confident in the transfer. He confessed to them that he’d expected to go through the exam entirely quirkless, but then the quirk had activated instinctually at the threat of the Zero-pointer. He told them of the lingering pain of those broken bones, even after they were healed, and of how he feared trying to use the quirk and breaking himself again.

 

The entire class— the remaining students joining in to hear his story— sat together in a contemplative silence afterwards— Izuku finally released from his bindings.

 

“Ritsu, can you pull up the footage from the exam again?” Nagisa asked after a moment of consideration.

 

The projector lit up a large patch of wall, allowing them to see every detail of Izuku’s superpowered attack: from the moment he took notice of the massive threat, stance changing in preparation, to the point when a supernova of light shone from within his arm, until it all released into a single punch, strong enough to cause a shockwave that would demolish a good deal of the robot’s head.

 

“There, look at his arm,” the blue-haired boy exclaimed, pointing at a paused frame in which said limb shone, veins sparkling red. “I think I know what the quirk is.”

 

“Uh. Isn’t it just All Might’s quirk? Super strength or something.”

 

“No. I mean, yes. I mean—” he groaned. “Look. All Might has that small form, right? Which means his quirk has some sort of transformation quality to it. That does not look like Green’s quirk at all. Also, he said Izuku needed muscle to safely get One For All— that’s the whole reason he didn’t get the quirk immediately. But, when he called yesterday to talk about the arm, All Might said that he’d never had trouble with it before. How would he know about the whole possible injury thing if he never went through it?”

 

“His mentor!” Izuku completed, finally catching up with the other’s train of thought. “They probably struggled with the quirk like I did, which means their quirk was more similar to mine than All Might’s, but how could that be?”

 

“I think One For All manifests differently depending on the person.” Nagisa answered. “There’s zero research on this sort of situation, but assuming the quirk would act exactly the same way in two different people with two different physiologies is a pretty big stretch. In All Might, it manifested by making his body stronger, giving him that second form. For you, Green, I think it manifests as pure energy.”

---

Now…

 

Izuku allowed his lips to curl into an animalistic smile as he watched the ball sail dozens of times farther than it had before. He knew his fresh new classmates would probably whimper at the viciousness in his expression, but it couldn’t be helped.

 

It had worked. Nagisa was a genius.

 

Seeing his quirk as an energy stockpile-generator-manipulator thing instead of an All Might copy-paste finally allowed One For All to click in his head— it just made sense. A lot more than ‘clench your buttcheeks and yell smash’, anyway.

 

Manipulating all that energy the right ways— controlling concentration and power-levels so only a small percentage of it was actually conducted through his body— still took a lot of effort. Izuku doubted he’d be able to use it in combat or time-sensitive situations anytime soon. 

 

But he’d managed the ball throw. Without hurting himself beyond a slightly bruised finger, too. 

 

At that moment, he’d been so thrilled by the joy of controlling his quirk, still relishing in the lingering sizzle of electricity that paired over his muscles, that Izuku only took notice of the threatening red gaze when it literally screamed at him.

 

“DEKU!”

 

He took a step back, body moving on instinct as he settled in a defensive stance. One of his hands formed a guard, ready to parry any incoming attacks, while the other traveled to his hip sheath— but the expected assault never came.

 

Bakugou Katsuki stared at him, all snarling fury and tensed shoulders under the odd white fabric that held back his lunge. His crimson-red eyes glistened in a thick hatred so potent it forced Izuku to come to a sudden realization.

 

While he’d been locked amidst a world-ending mess with class 3-E, repeatedly kicked down and shattered, just to then be viciously trained into something sharp and deadly, Katsuki’s last year of middle school had been perfectly ordinary.

 

Izuku had changed so much— yet the blond stayed exactly the same. Looking into that ruby gaze felt like staring into a stagnant picture of his past.

 

“Bakugou,” Aizawa-sensei barked. It was oddly hard to focus on his voice, but there seemed to be an angry edge to it. “I would like you to tell me, with full words, what gave you the notion that attacking another student unprovoked was a good idea.”

 

“Hah?” Katsuki growled, face twisting into an even deeper scowl. His arms pulled at the bindings that the greenete only now noticed were Eraserhead’s scarf, but their teacher’s hold remained firm. “What are you talking about?! That’s just stupid, useless Dek—” A piece of cloth moved until it covered his mouth, interrupting his speech.

 

The gruff man pressed a hand against his forehead with a sigh. “You know what? I don’t want to know. We’re having this talk in my office. Everyone else is dismissed.”

 

Everyone was apparently still concerned about the same thing, because they all hesitated enough to inspite Aizawa’s flimsy patience.

“What.”

 

“Uh. Sensei,” the girl who had managed an infinity score braved. “What about the assessment?” 

 

She didn’t say it out loud, but it was clear the other students all heard the hidden question: ‘Is anyone getting expelled?’

 

“It was all a logical ruse to make sure you put in the effort.” The man answered in a deadpan. “The last place was never getting expelled. Although, since you apparently really want to know, I’ll be emailing the individual and ranked results by the end of the week. Yaoyorozu, Mineta, you both can pick a time to perform the last test later.” His tired eyes stared at the crowd of students, challenging them to make any complaints. “Is there anything else?”

 

“No!” A group of kids simultaneously intoned, not wishing to worsen their teacher’s mood any further.

 

Izuku waited for the others to leave the area before moving from his spot, not too keen on answering the dozens of questions they were sure to ask him. His heart rate had already settled back into its usual rhythm— Katsuki’s temper tantrum barely processed as a threat after last year— but he still felt somewhat out of it.

 

It was… weird… how surprising it could be for something— or someone— to remain the exact same. 

 

They might still be the same age, but it almost felt like the greenete had gained years of experience over his old friend-turned-bully.

---

To his surprise, the classroom wasn’t empty by the time Izuku finally arrived. He’d thought his classmates would wish to go home as soon as possible after that day’s excitement, but it seemed most of them were more inclined to stay and socialize.

 

He must’ve hesitated too long to enter the room, because soon enough the infinity-score girl giddily jumped and motioned him in.

 

“I’m Uraraka Ochako,” she said with a smile. There was something about her that oddly reminded him of Kaede. The thought made a warm feeling grow inside his chest. “That guy from earlier, he called you Deku, right?”

 

Izuku held back a grimace. So much for avoiding questions. “It’s something he says to insult me, it means ‘useless’. My name’s Midoriya Izuku.” He braced himself for her inquiries, but Uraraka only nodded, seemingly expecting the answer.

 

“Wait, ‘Midoriya’?” A boy with blond hair with a black lightning bolt asked. The two people he’d been talking to, a girl with ear mutations and the boy who had an interesting tape quirk, both looked at the greenete at his mention. “Aren’t you the dude who got first on the entrance exam?”

 

Everyone’s attention turned to Izuku at those words, and he had to fight down the urge to hide. Even after everything that happened, being shoved to the spotlights was something he deeply struggled with. Assassins were trained to stay in the shadows, after all.

 

“Oh, that’s right!” Uraraka mercifully exclaimed, her hands coming together in a small, excited clap. “You saved me from the Zero Pointer! Just one punch and— boom!”

 

“Holy crap, dude, that was you?!” Another boy with red hair and sharp teeth said. “I’m Kirishima Eijirou, I think we were at the same testing grounds. Man, I can’t believe you did that, those things were huge!”

 

Kirishima’s eyes were bright and glistening with awe as he spoke, and Izuku had to take half a step back at the onslaught of sheer energy. He was not used to strangers being this friendly towards him.

 

“Uh. I did go kinda overboard…” 

 

“Wait, does that mean your arm was actually broken?” Uraraka asked, head twisted in question. “I thought it was just a weird optical illusion because your quirk is super flashy, but you look normal now even after the ball throw…”

 

Izuku answered with an awkward, sheepish smile that made her face pale. Before he could say anything, Kirishima beat him to it.

 

“Woah, you broke your arm to rescue another contestant? That’s so manly!”

 

“Ugh, I don’t think that’s manly, dude,” ear-mutation girl countered, expression set into a grimace. “It just sounds painful.”

 

“Yeah,” tape-guy agreed. “I sprained my wrist once while skating and— ugh.” He shuddered. “Not a fun time.”

 

The conversation flowed from there, with people chiming in with their own stories of injuries. Kirishima had, apparently, accidentally cut his eyebrow when his quirk manifested, earning him a small scar. Lightning-bolt guy— Kaminari Denki— told about the time he tried ice skating and ended up breaking two fingers in a freak fall.

 

Izuku didn’t contribute to the discussion. He wasn’t too fond of retelling one of the many injuries his bullies inflicted onto him, and talking about the time he got stabbed during a field-trip turned murder attempt was definitely not an option.

 

Still, being in the midst of such lighthearted conversation, talking to people his own age without hostility or the weight of state secrets bearing over their shoulders was… different. It made him feel like a normal teenager.

---

 

 

Izuku— no, Agent Mutter— watched their target facility from his perch. It was a dark night out, the moon hiding behind a thick layer of clouds, enough so only a slim hint of its light managed to cut through. Despite that, the heavy-duty night-vision goggles snugly pressed against his face allowed for every nook and crevice of the inconspicuous warehouse to be seen with full clarity.

 

“Team leaders, confirm your position.” Ritsu’s voice cut through the intercom piece attached to his ear.

 

“This is Team Alpha. We’re ready to blast.” Agent Gymnast answered.

 

“Team Beta is in position,” said Agent Calm.

 

“Team Gamma here,” Agent Mutter spoke into his headpiece. A cold breeze ruffled his hair, making him pull his hoodie down just a bit more. “We’re good to go.”

 

“Remember, this is a capture and apprehension mission. Ten targets, you know their quirks, but be prepared for armed firepower.”

 

By his side, Agent Snake and Agent Death gave their guns a final check-up before hoistering them in exchange for their chosen white weapons. If things went right, not a single shot would be issued by them, but it was always good to be prepared.

 

“You’ve all trained for this, Agents. Let’s make Korosensei proud.”

Notes:

Agent Devil -> Akabane Karma
Agent Mutter -> Midoriya Izuku
Agent Gymnast -> Okano Hinata
Agent Calm -> Hayami Rinka
Agent Snake -> Shiota Nagisa
Agent Death -> Hazama Kirara

 

Coming up with agent names and aliases for the 3-E characters is so hard. I had to go on a deep dive for Muramatsu’s name because I didn’t know anything about him other than the fact he likes cooking (apparently no one else does either because that’s pretty much all there was about him bruh.)
Also, Is it obvious that I love Uraraka’s character?

 

A bit of a ramble ahead. (Nothing important, can easily be skipped)

That first scene went on for way longer than I thought it would when I outlined the chapter— and that’s after I cut a whole lot of stuff from it. I’m considering writing the whole thing as it should be and posting it as a one shot later. There’s a bunch of fun stuff and fluffy class 3-E interactions that wouldn’t fit with the main fic there, but that I loath to not have written down somewhere.

There’s a few details of the whole deal with Izuku and class 3-E that might be a bit hazy as of now, but it should all become clearer as the story progresses. I still have a lot of stuff to fit into this big boy!