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Part 2 of Adventures of 2-A Midoriya Izuku
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2020-09-28
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he took solace in the rise and fall of his chest

Summary:

Class 2-A student Midoriya Izuku has been tasked with accompanying Class 1-A on their trip to the USJ.

This is supposed to be a perfectly normal day.

Right?

Notes:

I'm going to be honest here, I got into this fandom on fanfic alone, and I've read so many alternate universe fics where the USJ incident is slightly different (or very different) from canon, and every clip I try and find to give me an idea of what happens never shows the full thing, so there might be a few things out of place.

Oh, and I changed Izuku's name from 'Dekiru' to 'Unknown'. So heads up for that. (I might change it in 'A Hero(-to-be) Arrives' too to Unknown. I spent roughly 5-6 hours writing this and it was late into the night so the ending might feel weird..? I'll probably go over it when I've had more sleep and fix it, but right now y'all get the rough version.

If anyone is too uncomfortable with violence, then skip from "Nomu -- change of plans. Kill Unknown." all the way to the next line break, or from there to 'Distantly he heard a shout'

Also, fun fact, this drabble is 28 pages long on my doc. But since it was on a shared one that had other drabbles, I couldn't just command a and then command v bc then it would highlight all 61 pages and oof--

Edited as of: September 30th, 2020 at 3:07 PM
Old word count: 10295
New word count: 11638

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

Work Text:

Izuku crouched down, a little smile stretched across his face as he tried to repress the urge to giggle uncontrollably. He was perched on top of the bus, dressed in his hero costume, and waiting for Class 1-A to arrive. 

 

He would be joining them on their first trip to the USJ, and he couldn’t wait to see how they’d do. They all had the option to wear their hero costumes, and by extension, so did Izuku. So he was.

 

His hero costume was quite different to the one he wore previously, having undergone an overhaul of gear, style, and color. The only thing that even remotely stayed the same was his capture scarf and voice changer.

 

Part of his costume was heavily inspired by an old pre-quirk disney movie called ‘Big Hero 6’ and was based on the character ‘Gogo’s' costume. It was a black, short-sleeved bodysuit with dark green lines running up the seams that would glow softly in the dark. He refused the helmet, he hasn't had a haircut in over a year and his hair, once short, was now down to his shoulders in length. Right now though it was tied up in a poof with a dark green scrunchie. Over the bodysuit he wore a dark green sleeveless, non-zippable, vest-like hoodie with bunny ears attached to the hood (this was, apparently, a universal constant in his costume). 

 

There were two deep pockets on both sides, and even two pockets on the inside, all four that could be zipped up. Clipped across his waist was an attached utility belt that held his two escrima sticks, his taser, and clinging to his thigh was his knife. Then his calf-high boots, which were also a dark green and acting as his own removable roller-blades, were two thin, maglev, black-and-green discs attached at the ankle. 

 

They were easily removable and light-weight, making it easy to throw at enemies. The discs were also magnetized, so once they were thrown they would zoom back to him once the momentum slowed enough for the magnetic pull to return. What allowed them to do this were the pair of silver bracelets on his wrist that he kept tucked under his gloves. The discs were sharp enough to cut, but dull enough that they couldn’t sever a limb. If he wanted to walk instead of skate, but didn’t want to throw the discs, there was a slide that went all the way to his mid-calf that he could manually push the discs to, or just place casually if he’d just caught them. 

 

He also wore sticky black gloves that gave him the ability to easily scale up walls, and the knuckles of the gloves were plated to act as sewn-in knuckle dusters. Currently hidden by his gray capture scarf was his metal voice changer, which had a minor design change, but went otherwise unchanged. Instead of looking like a simple mouth guard, the changer had minor cosmetic-only indents on it that made it appear like a wide, sharp-toothed smile. It was creepy and Izuku loved it. Hooked behind both his ears and covering his eyes was a completely black visor that hid his eyes, and there was a button on the left side that if he pressed once would make it night vision, if he pressed twice, would make it heat vision, and if he pressed three times, would make it clear. 

 

Izuku grinned widely as he saw the underclassmen filter out of the doors and down the steps to the bus. (Unbeknownst to Izuku, if any of his teachers could see his grin now, they’d be rightfully creeped out at how similar it was to Aizawa’s. Perhaps they should mandate how much time he spends with his teacher?) 

 

Before the hero students could get closer, Izuku yanked up his hood, pulled on his modulator, and changed his visor from ‘clear’ to ‘opaque’. They wouldn’t see him — couldn’t see him, to be more accurate, despite it being bright as hell, and that’s what he wanted. He was a surprise after all. 

 

But, just to be sure, he lowered himself closer to the roof, virtually pressed against it. The students were decked out in their hero costumes, and Izuku’s grin widened behind his mask at some of them — (however, he was a tad concerned with some of the... design choices, he should check in with Powerloader to make sure that the invisible girl wasn’t actually naked, how irresponsible!) they were all so cool! Katsuki’s costume made him giggle though, nothing had changed from the hero costume he’d designed when he was four to now.

 

They all stopped before the buses and the tall boy in armor — must be Ingenium’s little brother, they were like an exact copy! — started robotically chopping his arms and loudly explaining the rules. Izuku didn’t bother to listen in, and scanned the crowd for Shinsou - there he was! Izuku frowned a little at the lack of… well... anything the purple-haired boy had, but he should have expected it. Shinsou’s quirk only needed his voice, there wasn’t anything else he needed besides something that would adhere to it. Well... other than an actual weapon to defend himself with, but that was something Izuku was going to bring up next time they saw each other. Which would probably be after school today.

 

“-if you are done, we don’t have all day.” Aizawa’s tired and monotone voice cut Izuku out from his thoughts, and he perked up. Any moment now and his teacher would announce him. “We have a special guest joining us today, his name is Unknown and he’s a student from class 2-A, and I expect you to treat him as you would any other upperclassmen - with respect.”  

 

Izuku’s grin returned full throttle and with a small ‘whoop’ that was blocked out with his mask, launched himself off the top of the bus and flipped through the air, snickering at the cries of alarm from the underclassmen, and landed in crouch besides Aizawa. 

 

“Thank you for the wonderful introduction, sensei.” He purred as he jumped up to stand, his voice clearly distorted. He waved at the 1-A class, who were all staring at him widely, and reached up to uncover his hood and yank off his voice changer. “Hello, Class 1-A! My name is Midoriya Izuku, and as the delightful ball of sunshine next to me said, I’m from 2-A! I gotta admit, I’m genuinely surprised there are so many of you. I thought for sure that over half of you would be gone by now!” 

 

As he introduced himself Izuku clicked his visor three times and let his gaze wash over the class a second time with his eyes revealed. Shinsou was smirking at him, but even he couldn’t stop the little spark of awe that glittered in his eyes. A girl in some sort of pink and grey astronaut suit stepped forward nervously, “U-um… why would you be surprised?” she asked. 

 

Izuku’s grin widened and he aptly deigned to ignore the way the underclassmen all collectively leaned away from him when he did. He could feel the smug aura radiating from Aizawa and refused to acknowledge it. Asshole, he thought. “You don’t think the only reason I’m joining you is because I’m Aizawa’s favorite student, do you?” he said, a semi-joking tone in his voice. “I mean, I am his favorite student, but I’m also his only student! Don’t you guys know that he expelled all of class 2-A last year? I got lucky!” 

 

A hand gently cuffed the back of his head and Izuku let out a peal of light laughter as he jerked forward, “Quiet, brat. You only stuck around because you were the only one of those ‘heroes’ that actually had a lick of potential.” Aizawa grumbled light-heartedly, and Izuku beamed at the hint of a smile his teacher was hiding behind his scarf. 

 

The underclassmen balked at the exchange between the two, the student-teacher pair had an almost camaraderie feel with each other and it was a form of whiplash to see their typically stone-faced teacher almost soft towards the green-haired boy in front of them. 

 

“What? Did Aizawa give you his ‘I drink the tears of my students’ suffering’ grin and tell you it was a ‘logical ruse’ when he threatened to expel you?” Izuku asked, and at their nod snickered. “That was no logical ruse, he genuinely meant it.” 

 

His snickering increased when Class 1-A collectively paled. Then, a pink-skinned alien-looking girl gasped — wait, wasn’t that the Mina girl from nearly a year ago? — and pointed accusingly at him. “Now I know where I recognize you from! You’re that boy who saved me and my friends from that creep!” 

 

Izuku nodded sharply, “Yep, that’s me! Mina, right?” he tilted his head to the side, Mina nodded enthusiastically and grinned. “Hey! Congrats on getting into the hero course, did Kirishima get in too?” 

 

Mina, instead of answering, adopted an expression of surprise. Did Kirishima not tell her about me? Izuku thought as a spiky, red-haired boy stepped forward with a confident  grin, “That’s me, dude! Man, it’s been ages since we last saw each other!” he exclaimed, holding out his hand for a fist bump. 

 

The greenette blinked in surprise, “Woah! I hardly recognized you, you completely changed your hair! Your costume - a tribute to Crimson Riot, right?” Izuku leaned over to return the fist bump with a grin, which only widened when Kirishima nodded happily. “Rock on! Good for you.” 

 

“Wait—” Ah, Mina finally snapped out of her shock and glanced between Kirishima and Izuku incredulously. “You two met?! When!?” she twisted to grab Kirishima by the shoulders and violently shook him back and forth, “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

 

Izuku giggled, “Kirishima and I met the weekend after I saved you and those two girls from that guy, he looked frustrated with himself so I thought I would go over and cheer him up!” he explained. 

 

The older hero student glanced at Shinsou, and then to Katsuki. Shinsou looked curious, but overall didn’t seem too surprised at the notion that Izuku knew two of his classmates. He’d spent enough time with the older teen to know by now that he was a trouble magnet, so the idea that he’d saved one of his classmates from someone wasn’t too far-fetched. Katsuki however, looked ready to spontaneously combust on the spot. 

 

Before he could, though, Aizawa sighed very deeply and very audibly from beside Izuku. “Of course you would know the underclassmen, problem child.” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, then addressed the rest of the class. “How many of you have encountered Unknown from inside or outside his hero costume?” 

 

Mina, Kirishima, Katsuki, and Shinsou all raised their hands. The classmates in particular looked surprised at Katsuki. “Woah, Bakugou, you met Midoriya?” Kirishima asked, eyes widened. “What did he save you from?!”

 

Katsuki's hand dropped as he snarled at the red-head, “That asshole didn’t save me from anyone! Deku and I grew up with each other!” he yelled, hands igniting with tiny pop-pop-pops and tiny sparklers dancing across his palms. 

 

“Ah, ah, ah!” Izuku tsked, his capture scarf shooting out to cover Katsuki’s hands before his teacher could use his quirk. Lord knows that man complained about his dry eye. (And don't think he didn't notice the way his teacher bristled at the nickname, he'll need to explain the reason behind it after the trip was over.) “Katsuki, what have I told you about using your quirk to threaten others?” 

 

He waggled his finger at the blond, his eyebrow raised in warning, a silent ‘try me’ challenging him. Red eyes met green head on and Izuku knew that he would win - he always did, after all. They kept like that for nearly a minute before Katsuki yanked his gaze away, muttering indistinguishably about ‘extras’ and ‘annoying fucking Deku’. 

 

With a pleased smile, Izuku released Katsuki’s hands and the capture scarf slithered back to its place on his shoulders. “I’m sorry about that,” he apologized, inclining his head at the class, “Katsuki’s always had quite an… explosive personality. He gets it from his mom—” “Oi! Don’t fucking group me in with that old hag!” “—you’ll get used to it. Imagine it’s part of his charm.”

 

The group fell silent after that, and no one had seemingly noticed that Shinsou also knew Izuku. But the purple-haired teen looked a little relieved about it, seems like he didn’t want the attention after that performance.

 

Aizawa sighed again, “If that’s all, then everyone board the bus- we’ve wasted enough time already.” he ordered, then turned on his heel and marched up the steps. Izuku snickered and followed after him, the sounds of Class 1-A behind him picking up as they not-so-subtly conversed about him and the impromptu reveal. 

 

Izuku plopped down besides Aizawa and huffed quietly under his breath as the man immediately crawled into his sleeping bag and zipped himself up. He would always revere his teacher’s ability to fall asleep anywhere. Being able to fall asleep? Couldn’t be me. He had the dark circles to prove it. 

 

He folded his arms and leaned back against the seat, listening quietly to the conversations behind him. The chatter kept a constant, pleasant buzz through the air that, tied with the almost soothing rocking and bumping of the bus, left Izuku a little drowsy. I stand wrong, he mused as his eyes slowly started to slip shut, maybe I am able to fall asleep. 

 

“Hey Shinsou-kun,” an almost croaky voice cut through the haze of Izuku’s mind, breaking him out of his trance just as he was about to succumb to sleep, “earlier when Aizawa-sensei asked us if we knew Unknown-senpai, you raised your hand. Why?” 

 

Izuku straightened up, blinking the sleep out his eyes. A momentary hush fell over the bus as all attention turned towards Izuku’s… apprentice? Mentee? Friend. “I was hoping nobody would notice that.” Shinsou muttered, but apparently wasn’t quiet enough considering Izuku heard it and he was up at the front. 

 

“I met Midoriya during his Sir Nighteye internship, he saved me from a couple of bullies in an alleyway.” Shinsou explained tentatively, Izuku twisted in his seat to face the students, who didn't notice. A small smile tugged at his lips when he saw all their attention focused on the insomniac. “He made sure I was okay before offering to walk me home when he saw that it was dark out, even after I said no he insisted. He told me he didn’t like the idea of something happening to me just because he let me go alone.” 

 

There was an audible pause while the bus digested that information, before a loud sniffle drew them to Kirishima, whose eyes were watering. “Wow! That’s so manly!” he sniffed, bringing up a hand to wipe at a stray tear while his other hand clutched his heart. The bus nodded in agreement. 

 

Shinsou smiled softly, staring at his hands absently as he fiddled with them. “He was the first one to ever say that I could be a hero… I don’t think I would’ve gotten into the hero course without his help.” he murmured, switching from fiddling with his fingers to picking at his nails. “He’s my hero.” 

 

Oh. Oh. Now doesn’t that tug at the fucking heartstrings. Izuku desperately blinked away at the sudden sting in his eyes, no way was he going to burst into tears in front of everyone. He’d look like a total dork. I'm supposed to be the cool upperclassman, he reasoned to himself, I can't cry.  

 

Katsuki scoffed, dragging the attention to him and subsequently saving Izuku from tears. “Sounds just like what that fucker would do, stupid Deku.” he grumbled, arms folded over his chest as he glared at nothing in particular. 

 

Tiny Ingenium frantically started chopping his arms, shouting something about ‘treating older students with respect’ that the older teen elected to ignore in favor of letting out a watery laugh. He stared at Katsuki exasperatedly, politely pretending not to see Shinsou’s eyes widening drastically as the insomniac came to the abrupt realization that Izuku heard everything. “What am I gonna do with you, Katsuki?” Izuku asked rhetorically, “Isn’t there any way I can get you to stop swearing?” 

 

Katsuki grinned sharply, eyes glittering, “Not in a million-fucking-years, nerd!” he chirped in that rough, condescending Katsuki-way of his. Izuku let out a second bark of laughter. 

 

The conversation drifted away after that, changing focus to more mundane, simple things with Izuku occasionally interjecting with his own thoughts and questions, until the discussion of quirks and their strengths came up. 

 

“My quirk is called Naval Laser,” a blond who Izuku vaguely recalled the name of Aoyama twittered. He was wearing medieval armor and a cape. “It’s got the perfect combination of panache and strength!”

 

“But it’s way lame if it gives you a stomach ache,” Mina pointed out. 

 

Izuku itched for his notebook, and, once again, mourned that he forgot to incorporate it into his costume. Maybe at the next upgrade? On the bright side, he had the recording feature on his mask, so that alleviated some of his distress. He wasn't currently using it, but the fact that it was there and an option was still a nice thing to think about.

 

“A stomach laser is still cooler than a hardening quirk,” Kirishima interjected, looking a little put out as he glanced down at his costume. 

 

The older hero frowned, then, without the redhead noticing, stood up from his seat and walked over to cuff the side of the shark-like teen’s head. “Baka!” he admonished sharply as Kirishima yelped and looked up at him with wide eyes. “What have I told you about that kind of mindset? It doesn’t matter what kind of quirk you have, just what kind of hero you’ll be!” 

 

Izuku planted his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow at Kirishima, who chuckled sheepishly and rubbed at the spot Izuku had smacked him. “Sorry Unknown-senpai,” he muttered, “guess I forgot…” 

 

The greenette pursed his lips and squinted at Kirishima, looking half unconvinced. Kirishima, unprepared to be trapped under the upperclassman’s gaze, froze like a child who got caught sneaking a cookie out of the cookie jar. After a few seconds (and in those few seconds Kirishima began to sweat heavily), Izuku relaxed and offered the boy a smile. “Good,” he said, ignoring the sigh of relief, I'm not THAT scary, he told himself, you know, like a liar, am I? “don’t do it again.” 

 

Instead of returning to his place next to Aizawa, Izuku motioned for the redhead to scoot over and plopped into the seat next to him. “Tell me about your quirks!” he chirped, pretending not to hear Katsuki’s muttered ‘oh fuck no’ and staring at the students intently, “I haven’t seen them in action and I’m curious!” 

 

There was a pause as the underclassmen registered what he said, then a blond boy with a lightning bolt in his hair jumped forward. “Kaminari Denki!” he introduced, a wide smile taking over most his face, “My quirk is called Electrification and I can electrocute anyone that gets close to me with up to 1,300,000 volts!”

 

Izuku perked up at that, an electricity-type quirk? He wondered how far Kaminari could shoot his electricity before its effects weakened, or if it stayed the same voltage the entire way out. If he met someone whose quirk made them a conductive for electricity, could he knock them out faster? What if he met someone who was immune to electricity or had some form of protection - like a quirk that made them non-conductive, would he have to up the voltage or find another way out? Could he shoot electricity out of his hands? What about his feet? If he shot electricity out of his feet, could it work as a sort of jump boost? Could he control the amount that he produced and where he sent out? Like, say, he tapped someone with his finger, but his finger was charged to the max with electricity so the energy that transferred over to the person caused them to immediately black out? What if— 

 

“Deku,” Katsuki’s voice cut him out of his rambling and Izuku blinked, “you’re doing it again.” 

 

The greenette’s face ignited with fire as he noticed that all of the underclassmen were leaning as far away from him as possible, their faces a tinge pale. If this was an anime, or a shounen manga, Izuku was certain that there would be physical sweatdrops on their head. 

 

He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head, “I’m sorry about that! I’m an analyst and quirks are just so fascinating! Sorry if I came off as creepy,” he apologized, smiling sheepishly. From the corner of his eye he could see (a now completely awake) Aizawa peering over the seats and glaring dangerously at the students, silently daring them to say something negative. 

 

There was a collective pause. “No, no! We just weren’t expecting it!” Space-girl — Izuku thinks he heard someone call her Uraraka? — reassured, still looking a little pale as she waved her hands frantically. Izuku was a little unsure if the reason she was pale was because of the rambling, or the murderous glare Aizawa was shooting them. Not that any of the students saw his glaring, but he knew they could probably feel it. 

 

“Yeah, dude! We didn’t know you were so into quirks like that, it just caught us off guard!” Kaminari cut in, he was still grinning. “And I never thought about it that way! I’ll totally have to try that finger thing out next time in training! Same as the jumping thing,” he said, giving the upperclassman a pair of thumbs up. 

 

Izuku grinned, “See that you do! Oh — and 50,000 volts typically knocks a person out, but you probably knew that.” he told him, then thought of another question, and frowned. “What happens if you go over 1,300,000 volts?” 

 

Kaminari winced, he opened his mouth to respond, but a punk-looking girl with earphone jacks dangling from her ears spoke before he could. “He short-circuits his brain and turns into a gibbering, brain dead idiot for an hour,” she looked highly amused and a little annoyed as she said it. 

 

Izuku’s frown deepened and he hummed in thought, his hand on his chin. “Based on your reaction to my finger-touch suggestion… Kaminari do you only expel lightning from your body?” he asked, tilting his head curiously at the blond. 

 

Said blond blinked in surprise, “Er… yeah..?” 

 

“Ah. Have you ever just tried… punching someone before while your quirk was active? And not when you were throwing it out, just when it was… dormant - er? Resting? Over your body?” Izuku had a theory and by god he was gonna share that theory.  

 

Kaminari frowned and shook his head. Izuku’s eyes lit up and he clapped excitedly, “You should try it! I’m not saying your body isn’t meant to shoot lightning, but human bodies are naturally conductive! This could totally give you an edge while fighting, because one hit from you is all it’ll take for an enemy to go sprawling across the floor! Like I said — 50,000 volts is typically all it takes to knock someone out, and that’s barely even a quarter of how high you can go! You could stay in a fight longer without worrying about jeopardizing yourself or your teammates!” Izuku explained, hands waving around frantically. 

 

The electrical blond’s eyes widened and his grin was almost blinding. “Really!? Dude! Thank you so much!” he cheered, fist-pumping the air, “I’ll totally do that during the next training sesh! You’re a lifesaver!”  

 

Izuku laughed, “I am training to be a hero,” he said, smiling at the hyperactive teen, “saving people is what I do.” 

 

“No wonder Bakugou’s so powerful!” Mina exclaimed, causing Katsuki to snap his head up and turn towards the group so fast that Izuku was surprised he didn’t hear an audible snap, “He’s had a professional analyst helping him for years!” 

 

“That fucker only helped me a little!” Bakugou snapped, you know, like a liar, “Everything I’ve done I learned myself!” 

 

As Katsuki’s unofficial older brother (“by a fucking year you bastard!”) Izuku took it upon himself to tease his explosive baby bro. “That is such a lie and you know it!” he cut in, a shit-eating grin stretched across his face as he effectively prevented Mina from provoking Katsuki further and (subsequently) preventing Katsuki from committing a homicide. “Up until you were ten you routinely came up to me and said ‘Izu-nii, how can I get stronger so I can be the best?’ and don’t try and deny it, I have receipts!” 

 

The bus all collectively cooed, “You called him Izu-nii?!” Uraraka squealed, clutching her cheeks and shaking her head wildly. “That’s so cute!” the brown-haired girl began to float. Shinsou snorted. 

 

Izuku took vindictive enjoyment in the way Katsuki’s face turned a bright, almost concerning, shade of red. “Shut the fuck up, round cheeks!” he roared, hands bursting to life with a much more violent version of the tame pop-pop-popping! from earlier as he shot out of his seat. 

 

In a moment the blond was wrapped up in a capture scarf — not Izuku’s — and the popping of his hands immediately died. All the attention turned to a now rather irritated looking Aizawa, who was all glowering at them. “Be. Quiet.” he hissed, “I am trying to sleep.”

 

Everyone — sans a very amused Izuku and angry Katsuki — nodded collectively, but Aizawa was already back in his seat; his scarf retracted and quirk cancelled. There was a slow pause as the classmates turned back to each other.

 

“How are you not absolutely terrified of that man?!” Kaminari hissed at Izuku, who still looked very amused. The others seemed to agree with the blond, as they all made various sounds of agreement. 

 

Izuku raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Exposure.” he said bluntly, nearly deadpan, and snickering internally at the way the class’s shoulders sagged. 

 

“Okay, but no, seriously; after all my classmates were expelled, my schedule suddenly became very flexible. The teachers no longer had to focus on teaching twenty students the same curriculum, and instead only had to focus on one — meaning they could stylize it to their heart's content.” he explained, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms. “Aizawa took it upon himself to become one of my main teachers — he’s an extremely skilled Underground Hero, and due to the nature of myself, going underground was really the only option I had. Not that I mind.” 

 

He waved a hand flippantly at that, rolling his eyes some. “You’ve probably already noticed by now — though I do wonder why none of you have asked — but I’m wearing my own capture scarf. Aizawa-sensei decided to teach me how to use it, and since it’s such a difficult weapon, that means I had to train with it a lot. So Aizawa basically became my main and nearly sole teacher. Not that I didn’t have classes with the other heroes, but most of my week was — and still is — spent learning about the ins and outs of underground heroics and how to fight dirty.” 

 

Another silence descended upon them as the classmates of 1-A stared at him, mouths agape stupidly. “So..” Mina spoke up after nearly a minute, still wide-(and a little starry)-eyed, “you’re like… his personal student.” 

 

Even Shinsou, who knew this looked awed. The greenette kinda wanted to throttle him. Stop looking at me like that! he screamed internally as he imagined shaking the boy by the shoulders, you knew this! Instead, Izuku laughed nervously and scratched distractedly at his neck, pointedly avoiding all their stares. “I… I guess? I’ve picked up a lot of habits from him as well, and Yamada-sensei says it’s creepy how alike we can be, but I don’t see it?” 

 

Izuku missed it, but there was a collective sweatdrop between the students when he said that. Their smiles are almost identical! they all thought, even his bright ones! They all have that creepy, baby-eating edge to it! there was, of course, more similarities the class of 1-A have drawn between the only student of 2-A and their homeroom teacher in the short time that they knew him, but before any of them could voice this, the bus came to an abrupt halt.

 

“We’ve arrived.” Aizawa declared dryly, standing out of this seat as his sleeping bag slid off him. “Everyone get off — welcome to the Unforeseen Simulation Joint; the USJ.” he said, and everyone followed him off the bus. 

 

There was a collective ‘oooh’ as class 1-A stepped out and finally laid eyes on the tall, dome-shaped building. Izuku smiled amusedly, the beauty of the building no longer affecting him from his exposure to it last year. 

 

He was the last one off the bus, but the moment his foot touched the soil, the intense feeling of wrongness hit him like a maglev train (or one of his discs) and the older hero-in-training nearly stumbled as he tried to right himself. 

 

Fuck, he thought, subtly trying to steady himself and instinctively reaching up to click his visor, something’s wrong. The only indication that the visor changed was the dark tint that appeared. 

 

None of the underclassmen seemed to notice the reaction, and Izuku felt a tinge of disappointment at it. They’ve only been here for a week, he reminded himself, hesitantly following them towards the entrance of the building, they haven’t learned about situational awareness.  

 

Still, despite that, nothing could change the feeling of nausea curling in his stomach. Aizawa-sensei sent him a concerned glance, apparently the only one to have noticed his reaction, and the teen sent him a (weak) reassuring smile. 

 

The erasure hero frowned, looking rather unconvinced, but turned away otherwise. Once his back was turned, Izuku whipped out his phone and quickly opened up his contacts to one of the only heroes he had in it other than Aizawa — Yamada. 

 

Present Mic, something’s wrong; I can feel it, and my intuition has never failed me before. If I don’t text back in the next five minutes, assume something has gone horribly wrong and send backup. - Unknown

 

Even though Izuku didn’t have many interactions with the man over phone (he much preferred to talk to the voice hero in person), there were still enough to know that Izuku was serious when he used their hero names and signed his texts with his own. He paused to hit ‘send’ outside the doors of the USJ, and felt some of the tightness coiling in his gut lessen when he saw it actually send. 

 

He pocketed his phone, stepped through the entrance, and walked around the students to get to Aizawa, pulling his hood over his head as he did. Aizawa was standing besides Thirteen and whispering something to them that he couldn’t hear, but then he saw Thirteen holding up the ‘three’ hand symbol and knew instantly — All Might had used up all his time. 

 

Fool, he admonished, coming up to stand beside his teacher, your students become priority the moment you become a teacher. “What’s wrong?” Aizawa muttered under his breath while Thirteen explained to class 1-A why they were there.  

 

“I don’t know,” Izuku answered truthfully, looking around the USJ uncomfortably, “something’s just… off. Wrong. I can’t pinpoint it.” There was tension in his shoulders and around him in general that he couldn’t shake, and that nauseous feeling only worsened as the seconds ticked by. “I’ve sent a message ahead to Present Mic; if I don’t text him in five minutes, he’ll send out heroes to the location.” 

 

Aizawa pursed his lips, “Smart,” he praised, but even the fuzzy feeling that warmed Izuku’s chest couldn’t erase his unease. “Just remember to send that text in five minutes.”

 

Izuku nodded, “I know,” he said, and fiddled with the hem of his jacket. There was something so wrong and he hated that he didn’t know what. After a moment of internal debate, he huffed to himself and yanked up his voice changer, setting it over his mouth and nose before glancing around skeptically. 

 

Some of the students noticed the change in behavior, but Izuku couldn’t bring himself to try and reassure them. He saw Bakugou frown at him, then after glancing between Thirteen and him, lifted his hands. 

 

‘Nerd, you okay?’ he signed, eyes narrowing at the older teen. ‘You look like you’re about to fucking pass out, I haven’t seen you like this since middle school.’  

 

There were few things that Izuku couldn’t do; one of them was have a quirk, and the other was lie to Katsuki. Especially about something like this. He carefully shook his head, and briefly noted Shinsou taking notice of the action. ‘I feel like I’m about to pass out,’ he signed back, ‘I have a bad feeling about all of this and I have no clue how to fix it. But for now… be on your guard.’  

 

Shinsou’s eyes widened slightly while Katsuki’s narrowed. They both, however, shifted into a subtle battle stance, which went unnoticed by their peers. 

 

Izuku's paranoia showed quickly to have been needed, because not even thirty seconds later and the lights of the USJ flickered, the water of the nearby fountain spluttered, and a black and purple ball of mist appeared before them. It only got bigger and bigger until, much to Izuku’s growing horror, a hand reached through the churning portal. 

 

Following the hand was a pale, blue-haired man with a grey hand attached to his face. Izuku’s stomach plummeted at the look in the man’s red eyes. Crazy… this man is crazy, he thought, but refused to step back. He was a hero, all his training would be for naught if he backed off now. 

 

“Step back! Get together!” Aizawa — Eraserhead — ordered, scarf unraveling as he pulled his goggles over his eyes and dropped into a battle stance. Izuku did the same. “Thirteen, Unknown! Protect the students!” 

 

Izuku jerked in surprise but couldn’t spare a moment to glance at his teacher as villains began pouring out of the portal in droves. “Eraserhead—” he began, a protest burning the back of his throat, but it died where it was at the sharp look his teacher gave him. 

 

“What’s going on?” Kirishima asked, drawing Izuku’s attention to him. He stared at the villains warily, “Is this like the entrance exam? Have we already started—” he went a move step forward, but Izuku’s capture scarf already shot out and yanked him back.

 

“Idiot!” Izuku snapped, and later he would apologize, but right now his mind was hardwired for battle and he couldn’t risk anything. Kirishima jumped at his sharp tone. “Stay back! Those are real villains!” With that, he let go of the redhead and turned back to place his attention on the villains. 

 

The class froze. 

 

“Unknown, protect the students!” Eraserhead said again, giving him a sharp look. Izuku’s expression hardened and he nodded curtly, missing the awed looks he received from 1-A. “Be. Careful.” the teacher stressed. 

 

“You too,” Izuku retorted shortly, then reluctantly turned away from the erasure hero, “come back alive.” he didn’t need eyes on the back of his head to know that his teacher had jumped into the fray of villains. 

 

Alongside Thirteen, the pair of them began to herd the students out with Izuku taking up the rear, pushing the students that had trouble keeping up. Shinsou appeared beside him, glancing around nervously. “Mi-Midoriya, what’s going on?” 

 

That was, frankly, an illogical question because he just told them that they were villains. “No time,” he said instead, “we need to get outside,” if we get outside. He added. 

 

Part of him ached to go and aid Eraserhead, —there are too many, there’s too many for him to handle alone, he’s going to get tired eventually— but he had to follow orders and protect the underclassmen. A part of him thanked the high heavens above that he’d texted Present Mic, but he had no idea how much time had passed, and by itself getting to the USJ took ages. 

 

Hopefully I sent it early enough, he prayed. He knew help would be on its way — if it wasn’t already, but when they got here was its own question by itself. Would it be too late? He couldn’t dwell on this any further — he had to protect the students. “Keep going,” he ordered lowly, “I’ll stay further back and prevent anyone from sneaking up.” Shinsou looked like he wanted to protest, but one look from Izuku that the greenette knew the insomniac could feel behind his visor had him snapping his jaw shut. 

 

Izuku reluctantly began to slow down until he was a considerable distance away from the group of students. He kept his guard up, eyes flickering around to catch any villains that might want to try and get their hold on the vulnerable hero kids. He frowned when he couldn’t spot a single one. 

 

What— 

 

Anything he had to say abruptly came to a halt as a ring of swirling black and purple cloud appeared in front of him, Izuku cried out in surprise and skidded to a stop. His nose almost touching the mist and he could feel the ice that radiated from it. Dammit! he cursed, stumbling back and glaring at the warpgate, he couldn’t hear a thing beyond the wall. 

 

There’s nothing I can do now, he thought, I just hope 1-A will be okay in there. Rather reluctantly, Izuku turned on his heel and began skating away, lips set firmly in determination. Right now Eraserhead needs my help.  

 


 

Something people didn't tell you was that when you hit water at a very tall height, it felt like the equivalent of landing face first into concrete after jumping off a trampoline. Shinsou didn't have any time to react before he was plummeting through the air and landing on the water, the air was knocked out of his lungs and as he tried to suck in air he sank and instead of getting a mouthful of oxygen, he received a mouthful of water. Shinsou choked and began to thrash around violently, trying to figure out which way was up so he knew where to find air while his throat burned with the urge to cough.

 

His lungs burned as he tried to figure out where the fuck he was, his vision was swimming and he was disorientated from the fall. I didn’t see Midoriya anywhere when Kurogiri cornered us, he thought, as if that would help him. He also didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. (He was still embarrassed over Midoriya hearing him outright say that the older teen was his hero. He thought he was asleep!)

 

There wasn’t much time for him to dwell on that thought either, because he could see something swimming towards him at a very alarming pace and Shinsou did not want to stick around and find out what happened when whatever the thing was got here.  

 

So, he did the only logical thing his brain could cook up at the moment, turned tail, and fled.  

 

Or.. at least tried to, it was much harder to flee when you were stuck in the water and the thing that’s chasing you is very clearly water-friendly. Shinsou kept glancing behind him, that desperation to get the fuck away only grew stronger as the thing got closer. 

 

Finally, when he could see down the thing’s — villain’s, his mind very unhelpfully supplied — throat and it was about to take a good chunk out of his leg via ‘A Villain’s Guide to an Unprompted and Unprofessional Amputation of your Victim’s Leg’ his anxiety had gotten so great that it looped all the way back around to calm.

 

And when that happened, Shinsou turned to his only solace. 

 

Dry humor. 

 

Wow, Shinsou thought blankly, determined for this to be his final thought when he was forcibly ejected from the club known as ‘the land of the living’, he’s really about to rock my shit— 

 

Something wrapped around his waist and pulled. Shinsou barely had the time to register escaping the (quite literal) jaws of death before he was breaking through the waterline and gasping for (sweet, sweet) air. 

 

That brief, flying moment of freedom where Shinsou was half convinced his soul was ascending abruptly crashed when he slammed into the hard, wooden floor of a boat deck. Hey, quick question; what the fuck— 

 

He groaned, loudly. 

 

“You alright, kero~?” A familiar voice asked him, Shinsou nodded before he realized he was doing it, and coughed violently. Apparently trying to breathe in water like you had gills was only going to end up with water in the lungs.

 

Darn, he thought in a daze as he tried to push himself up, and I thought my quirk would allow me to breathe underwater like some kind of sleep-repressed mermaid. He had no idea what he was thinking, so he chalked it up to the shock of nearly being spontaneously amputated via a shark’s version of teething and from nearly drowning. 

 

Delightful. 

 

It wasn’t soon enough that Shinsou could finally re-orient himself and recognize just what his surroundings were exactly. He could vaguely hear another voice that was clearly not the one from before crying. 

 

Fact: he was on a boat.

 

Fact: he was on a shipwrecked boat.

 

Fact: he was on a shipwrecked boat with two of his classmates.

 

Fact: he was on a shipwrecked boat surrounded by villains.

 

Fact: all these villains wanted to kill him and his classmates.

 

Great, now that he knew what was going on, he now had to decide whether he should panic, panic more, or not panic. Survey says… panic! 

 

Baka! Immediately said a voice that sounded suspiciously like Midoriya’s, he winced internally, already feeling the phantom ache of the smack (or maybe that was still from hitting the water earlier) he’d receive if Midoriya was with him. Don’t give up now! You’re going to be a hero! 

 

Dammit. He hated it when Midoriya was right; he was going to be a hero. He was in the hero course for pete's sake! He couldn’t afford to give up now just because he was experiencing the practical demonstration of what an orchestrated villain attack looked like early! 

 

Wait… Shinsou squinted and glanced behind him. His vision was no longer blurring, so he could clearly see who it was that was with him. Asui (“Call me Tsu.”) Tsuyu and… Mineta Minoru. 

 

Shinsou frowned, why would they put someone with a frog quirk in a water zone? he thought to himself, and shakily stood up, his hands flying out to the guardrail to steady himself. He looked out over the water, his frown only deepened when he noticed that all the villains, despite their leering, were keeping a relative distance away. But why?

 

He glanced behind him again, what… what if the reason they’re staying away… is because they don’t know our quirks? Shinsou’s eyes widened and he whirled around. Mineta was bemoaning about something he’d rather not listen to, “Tsu,” he started, a giddy feeling forming in his chest as the beginnings of a plan started to formulate in his head. 

 

Thank god for Midoriya’s training, he thought to himself as he, Tsu, and Mineta began to plot. 

 


 

Izuku ducked underneath the fist of an unnamed villain and jumped behind Eraserhead, unclipping one of the discs attached to his boots and flinging it at a nearby enemy. He smiled proudly behind his mouthguard when the metal disc slammed into the side of the villain’s head and knocked them out instantly. It disappeared into a frown as he dodged a hit.

 

“Unknown!?” Eraserhead exclaimed, sparing a moment to glance at the quirkless hero-to-be in disbelief. “I thought I told you to stay with the students!” he said, then used his scarf to flip a villain into a group of his buddies like a human bowling ball. 

 

“I did!” Izuku called over his shoulder, catching the returning disc before twisting around to slam the blunt side of it into the head of a villain who got a little too close. “But that warpgate cut me off! There was nothing I could do!”

Eraserhead growled and turned to kick a villain in the face. Maybe a year ago Izuku would’ve thought his annoyance was directed at him, but months spent with his teacher showed that the dark-haired man wasn’t angry with Izuku, but with the situation. 

 

“Fine, but stay close!” he snapped, then activated his quirk on a long-range villain and used the woman’s confusion to wrap her in his scarf and knock her out. Izuku dropped into splits when two villains tried to sandwich him and used both his escrima sticks to slam them in between their legs. He felt no pity for them as they collectively groaned, and instead twisted around to kick them both in the face before flipping to his feet. “We’ll search for the others after this!” 

 

Izuku nodded sharply, a little smirk tugging at his lips as he avoided an attack and lifted his leg to knee the offender in the gut, then pulled out his taser and jabbed it into her side, he threw her away from him after suitably shocking her and she collapsed to the ground, out cold. “Hai!” 

 


 

Shinsou thanked every deity out there that their plan hadn’t failed as he, Tsu, and Mineta all pulled themselves up to the bank. We need to find the others, he thought, grabbing a hold of the ledge and yanking himself forward, we need to regroup— 

 

His mind stuttered to a halt as he looked up, and his eyes widened drastically. Wh- what? He couldn’t believe what he was seeing — Aizawa-sensei was pinned to the ground by… by some sort of beast with his elbow bleeding and arm bent in a weird angle, his head was being crushed into the concrete by the monster’s abnormally large hand. 

 

There was nothing he could do but watch in horror as blood seeped out from his sensei and prayed that the man was still breathing. He didn’t know if he should be relieved that he couldn’t see Midoriya, and then felt guilty that he could think such a thing. His teacher was being killed right in front of them!

 

“K-Kero..” came from beside him, and Shinsou forced himself to nod in agreement. 

 

“We— we have to help.” he croaked, but he couldn’t move. He was paralyzed and could do nothing but watch. He could do nothing but watch. “He’s going to die— we have to help.”

 

Shinsou started scrambling, I just need to get a response, he thought as his nails scraped against the cement. I just need a— a hand shot out and grabbed the back of his shirt, then pulled him back.  

 

He counted himself lucky that the pale-haired villain (who was watching his teacher get killed) didn’t hear it. “We can’t,” Tsu said to him, and her face was pale as she alternated between the villain and Shinsou. 

 

The teen saw red, “What do you mean we can’t!?” he hissed quietly, then jabbed his finger at the monster, “that— that thing is killing our teacher! We’re training to be heroes! We have to help!” he just needed a response.  

 

Tsu shook her head, her eyes wide, “Are you crazy?!” Mineta whimpered before the girl could say anything, “you want us to fight that!? Eraserhead is a pro and HE got hurt!” 

 

Shinsou scowled at Mineta, who let out a little yelp of fear, “Well I can’t just—” he was cut off by the warpgate — Kurogiri — reappearing beside the pale villain. 

 

Miraculously, the villain was loud enough for them to hear even at their distance. “Ah, Kurogiri, did you manage to separate the students?” the pale villain asked, sounding almost pleasant with the mist man. 

 

“Yes, but one of the students managed to slip past my defenses and escaped.” 

 

The hand villain paused, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he just heard, and turned to the warpgate incredulously. There was a lingering ‘say sike right now’ in the air as a silence stretched between them. 

 

Shinsou didn’t bother to listen to what the villain said next — but from what he could briefly gather, pale-villain was pissed — and instead opted to dropping his head into his arms and nearly sobbing with relief. Even with the knowledge that Midoriya contacted Present Mic before the attack started, there was something ultimately relieving about knowing that help was for sure on the way.  

 

“Well then… guess it's a game over... but let’s say we break the Symbol of Peace’s pride, and kill one of his students before we go?”

 

Shinsou’s head shot up and his eyes widened, frozen in his spot as the hand villain shot forward towards Tsuyu.

 

“NO!”

 


 

Izuku let out a string of curses that he knew would make even Katsuki blush. He, much to his chagrin, had gotten separated from Eraserhead during the fight and hadn’t managed to defeat his own cluster of villains before Eraserhead decided to face off against that big, fuck-off bird-monster-THING that… Shigaraki, he thinks? called a ‘nomu’.  

 

So now he was skating as fast as he could across the plaza to aid Eraserhead in his fight. I need to be faster, he repeated in his head like a twisted mantra as he saw Eraserhead get his elbow fucking disintegrated by Shigaraki. 

 

I need to be faster, he thought as the nomu pinned his mentor to the ground and bashed his head into the cement. 

 

I need to be faster, he thought as the warpgate villain reappeared and seemingly conversed with Shigaraki — who did not look happy.  

 

I need to be faster, he thought, and nearly sagged in relief when he could finally hear what was being said. Only for that relief to evaporate in seconds when he heard Shigaraki say he was going to kill one of the students, why were they even watching— 

 

Shigaraki lurched forward— 

 

“NO!”

 

Izuku’s scarf shot forward at lightning speed and wrapped tightly around Shigaraki’s waist, his hand centimeters from Asui’s face, and Izuku nearly froze in shock. Time quickly caught up with him however, and he yanked the villain back hard. 

 

“What the—?!” 

 

Shigaraki skidded across the floor and Izuku called back his scarf, he skated an arc around the villain and slid to a stop in front of the students, his hands clutching tight at his scarf as he readied into a battle stance. “I won’t let you hurt them!” he snarled, almost primal as his voice distorted and staticky from his rage.

 

“Who are..?” The hand villain pushed himself up from the ground and clutched at his upper arm, his shirt was tattered in some places from his impromptu slide across the ground and some of the hands that clung to him were dangling off him. The villain paused for a moment, then stared at Izuku in short disbelief. 

 

“Who the hell are you?!” He exclaimed, his voice raspy and irritated, “You weren’t on the schedule!” 

 

“Yeah?” Izuku said, tilting his head to the side and baring his teeth like an animal, even though the villain couldn’t see it. “All Might was, and he’s not here.”  

 

“You…” Shigaraki’s hands shook, “You’re a glitch! My game file is corrupted! Do I have to do a system restart? I hate that!” and as if he were a child not getting the favorite snack he wanted, Shigaraki stomped his foot on the ground. “Dammit!” 

 

Izuku didn’t have the time to question the man’s mental state — it was clearly as deteriorated as his quirk — and growled at him. “I’m no glitch,” he said dangerously, if he wanted to talk video game lingo, then Izuku would talk video game lingo. “I’m player Unknown, and I’m going to kick your ass.”  

 

“Unknown?” Shigaraki said, seemingly to himself, and squinted at the teen. His red eyes almost glowed while Izuku glared at him. “You!” he exclaimed, pointing accusingly at Izuku, “you changed your avatar! No wonder I didn’t recognize you!”

 

The man-child scratched agitatedly at his neck, and Izuku watched him warily for any attacks. He recognizes me? “You’re the NPC with a permanent debuff!” Shigaraki claimed, his scratching growing more frantic by the second, Izuku could see the beginnings of blood beading up. “But you’re locked on hardcore and have no cooldown… that makes you a stronger enemy by default. Perhaps I was right, my game file really is corrupted?” 

 

Shigaraki muttered to himself inaudibly for a minute more, eyes trained on the floor, and Izuku glanced behind the villain towards Aizawa, who thank god was still conscious. Where the hell are those heroes… he thought nervously, eyes snapping back to attention when Shigaraki’s head jerked up.

 

Izuku almost took a step back at the crazed gleeful look in the villain’s eyes. “No matter,” Shigaraki said, “you’re far too over-leveled for this floor, and that annoys me. I get rid of things that annoy me.” 

 

A wry, almost taunting grin stretched across Shigaraki’s face, Izuku’s eyes widening as he realized the connotations behind the man’s words. “Nomu — change of plans. Kill Unknown.”  

 

“NO!”

 

Izuku didn’t have a moment to even blink before the beast was upon him, a large fist connecting with his jaw and throwing him back. His mouthguard shattered and as did his visor, he skid across the ground — not unlike how Shigaraki did just mere minutes before — and his eyes squeezed shut instinctively. 

 

He hit his head at some point, he noted as he shakily tried to stand up, and his jaw..? Izuku winced and didn’t even attempt to touch it — it was most certainly broken. As was his nose… thick, red blood blanketed down his face. He didn’t have time to think before another large hand picked him up and squeezed — it’s too tight! — and Izuku couldn’t stop the cry of pain that he let out. He thinks he felt a crack — was it his arms? His ribs? He momentarily blacked out from pain. 

 

Izuku was being thrown — he let out another cry as he skidded for a second time. He couldn’t move, and as he gasped for breath he choked, then coughed, and — oh dear, was that from the blood running down his nose, or from his mouth? His vision was spotty and he was strewn across the floor. 

 

The hero-to-be slowly followed his eyes along the floor, he was having trouble seeing - trouble breathing? Both. His vision was going darker, but just before anything faded to black, he met Aizawa’s eyes — that fucker was still awake? Good for him — and his teacher looked so horrified. Was he getting up? He couldn’t tell. 

 

Izuku could hear the nomu approaching — was Shigaraki saying something to slow it down? His ears were swimming. No matter, he smiled at Aizawa, his teeth bloody and breathing ragged and wow everything hurt? He hoped his smile was reassuring. 

 

Distantly he heard a shout — was that All Might? — and watched as a large figure jumped down and intercepted the nomu. A shadow appeared behind him and Izuku twisted his head to see who it was. Oh, Aizawa was up, when did he get up? His teacher leaned over him and was he picking him up? Oh, he was being lifted, so yes he was. Maybe? He couldn’t tell. Everything was numb. Aizawa shouldn't be using his arms, Izuku thought in dismay. 

 

He smiled again at Aizawa, and the man’s mouth was moving, but Izuku couldn’t hear a thing. He wanted to lift a hand, but they were crushed. Well, his arms were, and they hurt. Everything hurt. He couldn’t breathe? Yes he could, but it was hard. He wanted to cough; clear the gunk out of his lungs. He thinks he sees the students from before making their way towards them — it was a little hard to see with blood in his eyes. 

 

Izuku coughed, he tried to prevent it from getting on sensei’s face. “Sensei,” he heard himself croak, and wow he did not sound good. And Aizawa looked ready to cry. He never cried? Weird. Izuku’s face felt wet — oh, of course, those were Izuku’s tears. Sensei never cried, it made sense that it was Izuku who was! He smiled to himself — when did he stop smiling? Oh, there was the students, he thinks he can see their faces now. Was that Shinsou? Shinsou looked scared. 

 

“Sensei,” he heard himself say again, the students were getting closer, the ground was shaking. Was it just him, or did Aizawa-sensei brush a stray hair from his eye? No. He was injured. He wouldn’t. He was holding Izuku. Izuku gasped for air, he hated that it sounded wet. It was hard to breathe. Everything hurt. It was getting harder to stay awake. No, he thought, his vision growing spotty, I can't fall asleep, not now—

 

“Sensei,” he said again. “Dad?”

 

Everything faded.

 


 

Hizashi prayed that he wasn’t too late. His heart could be beating out of his chest at the moment and he wouldn't care, just let him not be too late.

 

He was in the middle of teaching his English class to 1-C when he received Izuku’s text. He nearly brushed it off (he nearly brushed it off) because he had a class to teach and Izuku would've been at the USJ with 1-A; he would've wanted to the underclassmen in action. He'd never text Hizashi. Especially during class.

 

He'd never text Hizashi during class, and with that he pulled out his phone, hardly even pausing his explanation of the difference between a count-noun and a non-count noun to pull out his phone and check it. Safe to say his heart stuttered when he saw Izuku's text. It's fine, he tried to tell himself as he put it away, despite the fact that Izuku was right and his intuition seldom failed him. It's fine, Izu's probably being paranoid. He wasn't fooling anyone, not even himself.

 

Hizashi could hardly go thirty seconds after that without checking his phone for a text from Izuku, because he'd text if there was something wrong. But as ten minutes slowly ticked by Hizashi's fear grew stronger and more and more excuses began to pile up when he didn't receive a response from the green-haired student.

 

('It's fine!' part of him reassured, 'it's not,' another said. 'Izuku's just nervous,' he thought only for that to be countered by 'nervous about what?' 'He's probably watching the underclassmen,' he tried to tell himself, 'what if something happened to him?')

 

His students noticed his strange behavior, how would they not? And one of them even built up enough courage to ask, and Hizashi would’ve felt proud because they said it in english if it weren’t for the ice-dunking dread coiling in his gut. 

 

(“Nothing to worry about, Listener!” he said brightly, but even he knew that it wasn’t his best performance - none of them looked convinced.) 

 

Then those five minutes were up, and Hizashi didn’t waste a second when he felt no buzz from his phone, no text. He dismissed the class early, already halfway out the door, and started nearly running towards the teacher’s lounge — some of them were on break, and if his hunch was wrong, — if it was just paranoia talking — then he would only need a few of them.

 

(“Class dismissed.” Hizashi said immediately, cutting off a student in the middle of their sentence. He was staring intently at his phone as he leaned over and grabbed his jacket off the podium.)

 

He managed to wrangle in Snipe, Midnight, and Powerloader, before informing Principal Nedzu about the situation, who in turn would keep an ear out and inform the rest of the teachers if anything happened, and the four of them started to hurry out. They ran into All Might, who insisted he came with, and it was only because they might need the extra man power that Hizashi allowed it — the older hero was so low on time already.  

 

Hizashi quickly came to be glad they brought him with, because they were nearly halfway there when they ran into a frantic Iida Tenya, who informed them of a villain attack at the USJ. The voice hero ordered the shaking boy to get to Yuuei, and while reluctantly, he did. He had to tell the rest of the teachers. The loud blond prayed that the other students were alright. 

 

All Might powered up once the little Iida was far enough down the road, and ran ahead of them.

 

It was too long — it was too long — before they arrived, and god it did nothing to stop the rage and fear from exploding in his gut like unpleasant fireworks. 

 

There was so much blood.  

 

Thirteen was on the floor, injured, and All Might was… All Might was fighting a large bird-faced villain that was somehow keeping toe-to-toe with him, and Hizashi could’ve watched the fight forever if his eyes hadn’t been drawn to the little cluster of people quickly shuffling away from the fight. He distantly heard Powerloader mention the other students trapped in the other zones. 

 

The students.

 

Shouta.

 

Unknown.  

 

Shinsou Hitoshi, Asui Tsuyu, and Mineta Minoru. All three of them were unscathed, but soaking, and Hizashi turned his eyes to Shouta, and his blood ran cold. He looked awful, but he was standing, and that hardly made it better, but that meant he was alive, and that's all Hizashi could ask for. 

 

Except Shouta was bleeding from the elbow, he was bleeding from the head — how was he conscious? That stubborn— they were stumbling away from the fight, and he had someone in his arms, that stupid, selfless — doesn’t he know his arm is injured? That his arm is broken?

 

It took a second for Hizashi to recognize who the figure in Shouta's arms were, and he felt sick when he did. Because that was his kid in his arms.

 

(His kid, his kid, his kid, his kid— not his kid. Not their kid.)  

 

It’s been ages since Hizashi ever froze like this, not since — not since Shirakumo — and his kid looked like a corpse. His arms were twisted— he— his jacket was ripped and tattered and his capture scarf was so bloody. There was blood running down his nose, his forehead. He looked like he was dead and Hizashi hoped he wasn't. He couldn't see the rise and fall of his chest.

 

Not his kid.  

 

Hizashi saw red. 

 

Oh… look, some of the villains were waking up. 

 


 

Shouta hurt. Shouta hurt so goddamn much and he’s not going to stop hurting. He was stumbling, and he was hurt, and he shouldn’t be walking right now, but his kid was in his arms and it was the only shallow rise and fall of his chest that kept him from collapsing. Three of his students were beside him, and he thanked whatever deity that was out there that they were unhurt.

 

(He doesn't think he'll be getting the image of Shigaraki standing centimeters away from Asui, his hand outstretched and nearly touching her face out of his mind very soon.)

 

(He doesn't know what would've happened if Shigaraki noticed that Aizawa had erased his quirk seconds before he could.)

 

(He wishes that he did, maybe then his kid wouldn't have gotten hurt.)  

 

Shouta felt like his heart was going to break. Snap in two. Shatter into pieces. 

 

Mic was at the top of the ramp, looking almost rooted to the spot as he overlooked the plaza, and though Shouta couldn’t see out of one eye from the blood pouring down his face, he could see the moment Hizashi saw them. How could he not? Hizashi looked like his world just shattered. 

 

Shouta was sure he looked the same. 

 

He and his students were trying to get as far from the fight as possible — Shouta didn’t even try and even glimpse at the battle behind him to see who was winning because he needed to get his kid as far from that creature as humanly possible and by god he’d fight every single unconscious villain in the plaza again to do it. Personal injuries be damned.

 

It looked like he was going to have to — some of them were regaining consciousness. But a singular glance at Mic and he stopped in place. He wanted to be out of the blast zone for this. His students stopped as well, having sensed they would need to back away, and Shouta commended them for that. 

 

Hizashi drew closer to the ramp, and he saw his husband draw in a chestful of air. There was a pause, and the villains that were waking up seemed to notice Mic was there, they geared up to fight (idiots, Shouta thought) before the loudest ‘YEAAAAAH!’ the erasure hero ever heard emitted from the blond.

 

The villains blasted away. 

 

Mic raced down the ramp, fast as a bullet, and when he slid to a stop he could only stare intently at Izuku in his arms. “Is he—” he cut himself off, like he couldn’t bring himself to say it, and Shouta didn't even want to think about what it looked like from atop the ramp, didn't want to think about how impossible it would be to tell whether or not if the young hero he was holding was still breathing. It was easier to tell when he was up close, when he was holding him, because now he could see the rise and fall of the green-haired boy's chest, however difficult it may be.

 

Shouta shook his head, and ignored how Hizashi slumped in relief. (It was only slightly, he doubted that the three others noticed it, but Shouta did.) “He’s alive,” he said quietly, voice hoarse. He wanted to curl up into a ball and never exist again. He had to get out of here to do that. “I don’t know how long he will be if he doesn’t get medical attention soon.”

 

The blond nodded curtly, his expression shuttering, and he held out his arms. “May I?” he asked quietly, glancing up at Shouta. No, he wanted to say, no, because I’m scared that if you take him away, he won’t wake up.

 

He didn’t say that. “Careful,” he murmured and hesitantly passed over the boy to Hizashi, and the sudden lack of weight was both relieving and terrifying. “I think some of his ribs might be broken — I know his arms are.” 

 

(There was a flash of rage he almost missed in Hizashi's eyes. Shouta felt the same way.)

 

He felt so fucking helpless when he saw Izuku being tossed around like a ragdoll. He couldn’t do anything but watch as his student — his kid, his boy, his child — was beaten unconscious by that fucker’s pet. 

 

Izuku looked him in the eyes, and then Shouta was scrambling over to his kid because no, not like this.  

 

(“Stay awake, problem child.” he said, cradling the boy in his arms as All Might appeared and started fighting the nomu. Izuku was staring blankly at him, like he couldn’t quite hear him, and Shouta’s heart stuttered. he had to get away—  had to—  had to distance himself from the fight. They were liabilities like this, either one of them could be grabbed by that beast. 

 

“Not like this, Unknown. I forbid you from dying, I’ll expel you if you do.” He tried again as he picked up his student —  and god did his injured arm scream at him when he did, he was lucky he was used to ignoring injuries like this — but he only got a dopey, painful and bloody so bloody — smile. 

 

“Shh, shh,” he whispered when Izuku called him sensei the first time, he sounded so awful and any hope that his lungs hadn't been piercer disappeared when his student coughed. “Save your strength,” don’t say goodbye, he pleaded. He can’t lose his student. He refused to lose anyone today. Shouta stumbled away, and maybe his legs weren't injured, but they ached and he hated that he limped. 

 

“I know, I know,” he said the second time, and his hold on Izuku tightened. Izuku was crying, it didn't look like the green-haired teen even noticed that he was, and that scared him. He could see the other three 1-A students running towards them, keeping themselves as far away from the ongoing fight as possible. His eyes stung, he blinked it away. He had to focus. “You did everything just right,” there was blood running down his kid's face, there wasn’t anything Shouta could do to stop it. Nothing but pull a stray hair from out of his eyes.

 

“Problem child-” he said a third time, trying to cut his student off, only for him to choke on air when Izuku called him dad. The other three were almost to him now, he doesn't think they heard Izuku. He couldn't decide whether to be relieved or not. Then Izuku's eyes slid shut, and his heart stuttered to a stop. “Unknown? Midoriya, don’t fall asleep on me now, I forbid you. Izuku!”)

 

Then the problem child is in his arms, and he's smiling at him, as if Shouta needed comforting and not Izuku himself. (He was covered in his own blood and crying, probably dying and the problem child was trying to comfort Shouta.)

 

He called him dad. 

 

Aizawa wanted to cry. 

 

He took solace in the rise and fall of his child’s chest. But how long would that last?

Notes:

Come yell at me on tumblr @starry-bi-sky or on twitter as @zoomin_bi!

It’s unknown as to whether or not I’ll make a part two, but I hope you enjoyed!

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