Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

PROLOGUE-ish:

Beast felt it when it happened.

Like someone’s cold fist had tightened over his very soul - if quirks even had them - and ripped it out of him in one violent jerk. Icy air hissed between his teeth, and his eyes widened as his balance momentarily floundered. He stumbled over his paws.

Just moments ago he was doing as his Master commanded, tearing apart criminals with his claws and teeth in his larger beast form, and now, a terrifying sense of emptiness opened up inside of him. 

Had one of the criminals hit him? Was this the effect of one of their quirks?

But through the haze of Beast’s confusion, he noticed the criminals’ movements faltering. Their attack on him had stopped even though they still vastly outnumbered him and his Master, their attention drawn elsewhere.

Had Master willed him to disappear?

Why would Master-?

“Is he dead yet?” One of the men demanded. “Why the fuck is his quirk still active?”

It was then Beast’s gaze followed the eyes of the criminals around him to a lone figure lying in a pool of blood at the center of the room. The criminals had all stopped to stare at the body, as though waiting for something. Beast felt his strength returning shakily to him, and he prepared himself to continue attacking the petty criminals when it finally clicked.

The body lying at the center of the room was…

“Master?”

Around him, the criminals started at the sound of his voice.

Beast’s body lurched forwards in the grip of icy terror. Was his Master dying? No, no, no, no- Beast would know if his Master was dying. He would be feeling it and he felt nothing at this moment but his own fear. Had it ever gotten this far, this was the part where Master would have bounced back up and chastised him for being so sentimental. But as Beast watched, Master remained motionless, no hint of a repressed smile twitching at his lips. Nothing to soothe the panic rapidly flooding Beast's body.

“Wait, get back. It should disappear soon.” One of the criminals ordered as some of the men drew closer to him, weapons drawn.

Master was fine. Master was fine. Master was fine. Beast reasoned that if Master was dead, Beast would be too.

But as his claws shapeshifted into more fleshy human fingers to feel around a pulse that Beast shouldn’t have had to check to know, he grew confused. Why couldn’t he…

A serene expression adorned his Master’s face, one which Beast did not see often. Relaxed brows, mouth slightly parted as though he were merely drooling in his sleep. Beast may have usually found it funny but there was nothing funny about it now.

Not the way Master’s green stared sightlessly at the ceiling. And especially not the warm blood sticking to Beast’s palms as he drew his hand away from his Master’s neck. The wound that he had only just noticed spilling dark crimson out all over the floor. Beast was standing in it. It smelt of Master. Iron. Hot. Sticky. Familiar but never in this quantity.

And Beast knew with certainty.

Master was dead.

A cold sensation washed over him. Burned beneath his skin, with every ragged inhale, and screamed like a storm through his veins.

Master was dead. Master was dead. And Beast probably had only a few moments before he was gone too.

He didn’t think today would be the day but he had always known this day would come. He knew what he had to do.

With a tenderness and care he reserved for only one person, he laid Master’s head down to the floor, and with his other hand gently drew Master’s eyelids shut. “Sleep well, Master.” Beast whispered. A shaky smile ghosted over his lips. “I don’t know where quirks go when we’re gone, but I promise I’ll find you.”

Beast rose to his feet with a strange certainty. He had only one mission left to do for Master.

He whirled around and smiled at the petty criminals, the lowly thieves who thought they could cheat Master’s deal and get away with it. He watched their expressions change from wariness to fear as they realized he was still very much ready to fight and kill.

“Fudo you idiot, you didn’t kill Beast!”

“He’s literally dead, look at the bastard! There’s no way he’s surviving that.”

“Then why can I still see his quirk?”

“I don’t fucking know!”

The alleyway where the criminals had trapped Master and him was the perfect place for an ambush. But their element of surprise was over, and Beast had nothing left to lose.

In a few seconds his body had doubled in size, swelling with all his rage and all his sorrow. His weight pulled him onto all fours, thudding down on the concrete as his heavy tail, tipped with a bulbous hard end, whipped around to smash into the first surprised criminal.

The man didn't even have time to scream as his bones splintered and embedded themselves into concrete wall behind him, dead instantly.

The criminals yelled in response, exploding into action. Beast felt the effects of their quirks tingle over him. A pain emitting quirk, a fire quirk, an illusion quirk - all of which had little effect on him. Their quirks were designed to work against humans, not quirks themselves, and Beast almost felt sorry for their quirks to have such pitiful masters. But he did not dwell on his sympathy for long.

Beast destroyed them.

He painted the alleyway red with their blood and entrails, and when the last man died beneath Beast’s jaws, he spat out the monster’s throat and howled at the sky. An unnatural inhuman noise filled with all his emotions. Every memory shared with Master, every future one lost. 

He screamed and screamed and waited for the end.

The sky grew dark and the clouds ripped asunder to release a torrent of cold hard rain. Night came and the stars twinkled into existence as a chilly wind tore through the alleyway. And still Beast protected his Master’s body from nature’s punishments.

And still, Beast had not vanished like most quirks after their masters died.

Carefully, he carried Master’s body from that filthy cockroach-festering alleyway, littered with the bodies of mangled monsters, and brought him in the dead of night to the nearby sea. Beast leapt from rooftop to rooftop, his powerful muscles carrying him far and fast. And when the citylights had died down, wings ripped out of his back and carried them high into the skies.

Master had always loved the ocean.

It was his place of reminiscence. It reminded him of a long-lost family.

Beast flew far out off the coasts of Japan with his Master tucked close to his chest - to where his heart would have been if quirks had them - and then finally, gently, gave him to the waves. With the rocks he tied to him, Beast watched Master sink into the deep fathomless blue, and thought to himself that no quirk should have to watch their Master die.

He did not understand why he was different.

Did not understand his purpose but to serve and love his Master.

He was an impossible wandering quirk. Fully conscious. Fully autonomous. With full control over his natural abilities.

But for the first time since Beast came into existence ten years ago when Master turned four years old, Beast was lost and alone.

Chapter Text

…6 months later…

The dance of faces was a delicate game. 

But it was one of Beast’s favourites. 

Between one breath and the next, Beast can glide through as many faces as it takes to fool the people at the party that he’s one of them. A coy smile as a pretty lady gets him past most of the security personnel, but sometimes it requires one of their own faces staring back at them to leave him alone. Sometimes it takes taking an average of all the faces he’s seen at the party into one face for people’s attention to simply slip off of him. He’s neither familiar enough to pay attention to nor unfamiliar enough to be suspicious of. 

The party isn’t boisterous but it certainly is extravagant. Fancy clothes. Fancy decorations. Fancy drinks. The lights are pink in some parts of the house, then blue in the next, sometimes green. And the house is big.

Low-tier Villains certainly liked pretending they were part of the high-life.

It almost made it too easy.

Then a tingle on his nape reminds him that maybe it wasn’t. A furtive glance over at the corner of the room alerts Beast to a lone stranger sitting apart from the crowd. But the instant Beast looks at the long haired stranger, the man easily turned his attention to something behind Beast as though he had never been staring at him in the first place.

Beast combed through his memory for a spark of recognition, but when arriving at a blank, he swiftly saved the stranger’s face in his memory for later before slipping back into the crowd.

He was here for a different prey tonight. 

“Hey there,” a voice grabbed Beast’s attention. Beast turned her head, feeling the tickle of her long dark hair tumble over her bare shoulders as she noticed the young man sitting in the bar stool next to her. He smiled confidently at her. “Drink?” 

Beast smiled shyly back at him. 

He slid her a drink, raising his own glass in return. “To the Shadow Approximate.” To Beast’s surprise, she detected a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Beast raised her glass just as a couple of security personnel walked past them.

The man watched them pass, then shook his head, “There are rumors that the Heroes have been more active in this area. Would explain the silence of the other Shadow factions. But you wanna know what I really think?” He leaned forwards conspiratorially. “I think the Wandering Beast is onto us.”

Beast raised her eyebrows in a gesture of disbelief.

“I know,” the man grimaced. “How could one man take out an entire crime syndicate… well, not entire . We’re still here,” he laughed, gesturing to the party around them. “But if I was him, this would be the perfect night to take us all out.”

Curiosity finally winning over her desire to keep silent, Beast finally spoke, amusement colouring her tone, “And yet you still came.”

The man smiled sheepishly. “I know. Crazy, huh? Part of me is here out of duty, but the other part is here just to watch shit go down.”

“Your loyalty to the Shadow Approximate is truly commendable.”

The man grinned and stuck out a hand. “I’m Spotter, by the way. An alias, obviously.”

Beast shook it. “Spotter? Related to your quirk I presume.”

“Yeah, it helps me spot the difference between things. Pretty nifty when it comes to my job - oh!” He fumbled for his shirt pocket, pulling out a dog-eared paper name card. “Shoulda given you this. It’s my name card. Basically if you need to become a different person, add another identity to your collection, erase one, I’m your man.” He bowed dramatically. “Spotter, at your service.”

Behind him, Beast noticed a familiar-faced man peering out of one of the upper level balconies. 

Pocketed Spotter’s card, Beast prepared to leave. “Well Spotter, you may not have much of a job after tonight if your theories are true.”

Spotter shrugged, “Eh it’s not every day you get to see a crime syndicate fall…” he suddenly stilled. Eyes widening as they darted between Beast and someone behind her. Then back to Beast. Mouth parted in an ‘O’ of shock.

Bewildered, Beast followed Spotter’s line of sight to see a lady taking a seat several bar stools from Beast. Long black hair tumbled from her head, matching her sparkly dark dress as she sighed wearily. She called out for a drink - her voice different from Beast’s.

She was also the original owner of the face and appearance Beast had stolen in this particular moment.

A grin crept across Beast’s face as she faced Spotter. His eyes were still as wide as saucers. She waved his card at him and stood up, “Thanks for the name card by the way. If you’re still around after tonight, your services may be useful to me.”

Then Beast shifted. Her long black dress rippling into the khaki uniform of the security personnel while his body bulged with muscle. Beast-security-guard winked at Spotter before heading into the crowd.

Obviously Beast’s little shapeshifting stunt had not gone unnoticed, and soon alarmed voices rose up around him as the criminals became aware of who was walking among them.

“The Wandering Beast is here!” Someone cried out.

Beast-security-guard dove into the startled crowd, shapeshifting nimbly between multiple forms until he lost the attention of anyone searching for him far behind him. Whatever mental quirks he felt tingle his senses soon passed harmlessly over him, not meant to latch onto other quirks. And soon enough Beast emerged from the throng of criminals with his attention honed in on a partifulcar balcony he had seen the face of the Shadow Approximate leader look out of.

Feigning the appearance of the frantic search for the shapeshifting infiltrator, no one so much as looked at Beast as he ascended the flight of stairs to the second level, or stopped him as he crossed the distance between himself and the man in the distance who held every fiber of Beast’s attention.

Gotcha .

Pale. Stout. Purple-haired. The leader of the Shadow Approximate hovered over the edge of the balcony, arms straight out to grab the railings as his cracked lips curled in an expression of disgust at the commotion below from his people. The pink light from the house below reflected like blood droplets against his dark eyes.

Behind him, two burly bodyguards stood stolidly, looking like they each possessed some sort of strength quirk by their sheer physical size.

One nervous security guard toed the edge of the balcony as he delivered some news. “... get to safety… Wandering Beast… locked room…” Beast strained his hearing.

The Shadow Approximate leader did not turn around, merely shaking his head in disappointment. The security guard scurried off soon after that.

Beast was close now. Close enough to admire the spiderweb of scars that ran across the leader’s face, seeming to glow red as their rugged edges caught the light from the party below. Close enough to see the years of wrinkles etched onto that shadowed expression. 

The bodyguards followed the leader into a room, and Beast watched the door shut behind them. Waited patiently. And watched as the door opened again a minute later, several security guards hastily leaving the room, shouting orders at one another.

Although wearing the face of one of the security guards who had jogged past him, Beast wore a suit now. Master’s favorite one. He smoothened out the creases with a careful hand and swept his sleek black hair back. 

And entered the room.

Inside, the room brimmed with lavishness. A glossy unblemished marble floor. Shiny metal door handles. Newly painted white walls. Shiny. White. Everything. 

And the leader had his back to the door, focusing on something laid out on the table before him. His two bodyguards straightened to attention at the sight of Beast-security-guard. 

Then the leader, noticing their motion, glanced around and met his gaze. Green eyes to inky black. 

“The Wandering Beast is here!” Beast-security-guard mimicked the voice of the man he had heard earlier. It was the tone of a shocked man. Scared. Anxious. Determined. 

The leader’s nostrils flared as rage flashed across it. “Are you all so incompetent that-” he broke off, shaking his head in disbelief. “The other security guards just told me that already . I want you to lock the place up. In fact - lock up this room too. Don’t let anyone in or out until that pesky fuck has been found.”

“Yes sir.” Beast-security-guard complied. 

He pulled the heavy metal door shut and locked it. Beast found he enjoyed the sound of the metal gears sliding past one another into place.

Then Beast twirled around and tilted his head to the side as he studied the oblivious man he had trapped in the room with him. Watched as the man carried on studying the paper - a drawing, a house floor plan it appeared - while marking something down.

The bodyguards silently watched Beast back. One of them blinked as he noticed the different uniform Beast was wearing. A black suit instead of a khaki one. 

“Muranaka Rin,” Beast dropped the security-guard-voice in favor of his real, much deeper, one.

The leader, Muranaka, froze. 

“Also known by your people and those of the street who fear the Shadow Approximate as Terror Lord. He who can send an entire squad of police pissing their pants in fear of your quirk. May all tremble in your presence.” Beast normally would have laughed at such silly titles to be known by, but his non-existent heart was bleeding and Beast was ready for this to be done. “You took something irreplaceable from me.”

Muranaka slowly turned around while his bodyguards got into stance, taking quick breaks from watching Beast to glance furtively for directions from their leader. The leader was breaking out in a cold sweat now.

No one had gotten this far to him.

“Wandering Beast.” The man greeted him with a sickening smirk. His lip trembled. “We finally meet.”

Beast felt it when a wave of the man’s quirk slammed into him. Powerful. Muranaka’s own bodyguards flinched as the fear-inducing quirk burned the air alive with unbridled terror. There may have been something faulty with the quirk seeing that the man who was emitting it seemed to be affected as well as he watched Beast stand there and take it all without a change in expression.

“Rude, but impressive,” Beast said. Such fear-inducing quirks had the ability to render those around them helpless with overwhelming terror and would have normally affected him had Master been experiencing it. He wondered how far Muranaka can reach with it, and how many people. It seemed to affect his bodyguards as well even while the intended target was Beast which is certainly a disadvantage if allies are incapicated by it as well as enemies… Beast paused. “Oh. I’m sorry. I must have been muttering again.”

Master hated it when he rambled, but it had been a habit Beast had never gotten rid of. As a quirk he supposed he was just naturally interested in his fellow quirks, especially since most couldn’t simply talk back to him about their experiences and abilities like he could. 

Looking repelled and a little freaked out by the sudden rambling, Muranaka snapped. “Get him.”

The two bodyguards got ready to… do whatever they needed to do with him. Beast did not know. Because they had barely moved when Beast lunged.

And shifted. Black skin rippled as six hundred pounds of muscles on four paws slammed into the first guy, sending him careening into the back wall. While the impact should have knocked out a regular person, Beast felt arms grappling him from below with quirk-enhanced strength. 

The second bodyguard’s skin erupted in spikes. 

Bone-y spikes grew out of Beast’s own shoulders as he batted the first guy aside with one massive muscular paw. 

“You won’t get away, Muranaka.” Beast’s voice rumbled through the room. 

He charged at the second bodyguard, bowling into him shoulder-first. 

“You hunted down my Master like some common thief.”

The second bodyguard threw a spiked fist at Beast’s face, which Beast took with a surprised cry. He lurched backwards before letting the newly-formed spiky tail that ripped out of his back whip around and pierce through the bodyguard’s layers of spikes, before casting him aside.

“Made him die in some filthy cockroach-infested alleyway in the middle of nowhere.”

Beast turned to the purple haired human while the two bodyguards around him wheezed and staggered. 

Watched Muranaka hurl wave after wave of his terror quirk at Beast, flooding the room with its thick choking sensation. All the while the man, the leader, the Terror Lord himself, cowered at the back of the room with eyes wide and darting between Beast and the exit. Maybe wondering if he called out for help whether they’d be fast enough. 

They wouldn’t be.

“W-wait. I’m not sure who you think I’ve killed but perhaps we can talk about this-” Muranaka began.

“I’m sick of killing.” Beast admitted. “And I don’t desire to kill you, but Master would have wanted this. This is for him-”

And like a wish come true, the ceiling collapsed in, a massive chunk striking the Terror Lord himself straight on the head. Dust and gravel exploded in a cloud of haze around them. 

Confused at what had just happened, Beast squinted through the milky film that obscured his vision. When it faded enough for him to make out the shape of the leader of the Shadow Approximate lying crumpled on the floor, bleeding from a blow to the head.

Beast stared.

And stared.

And felt a laugh begin to bubble up from his throat. 

When out of the cloud of dust stepped a man with an outrageously pointy blonde hair and a cool set of headphones around his ears. “Wowie, that was a big one. Is this the right room?” The man seemed to ask someone on his headset. “Seems to be no one here…”

Beast nearly yelped as he recognised the man. “Present Mic,” he whispered, unbidden, in pure awe. 

“What was that? I thought I heard something,” the Pro-Hero stepped further out of the cloud.

Beast immediately shied away, shrinking down rapidly as he hid behind a particularly large gravel. Shock filled him. And amazement. 

A Pro-Hero… a Pro-Hero was here!

“Anyways, as I was saying… Oh!” Present Mic noticed the body of the gang leader of the Shadow Approximate. “Yeah, yeah, I found something. Wait. It’s him! It’s Terror Lord.” He kneeled down, pressing two fingers to Muranaka’s neck. 

“He’s dead.”

The somber tone and the two words behind it sent a wave of emotion through Beast. He didn’t really understand what he was feeling knowing that the man he came here to kill was dead by pure luck, but the feeling was powerful and it made his throat clench up. He shrank himself further.

The sound of rubble being moved aside alerted Beast to a second stranger entering the room.

Beast’s eyes widened as he recognised the long-haired man from earlier. The one whose eyes he felt on the back of his neck. A grey scarf was curled around his neck, more noticeable than before, and a pair of unusual-looking yellow goggles sat over his forehead. 

He moved slowly but deliberately as his gaze scoured the destruction.

“You’re absolutely sure he’s dead?” The second man questioned, sounding tired.

“Dead as a rock.” Guilt oozed from Present Mic’s tone as he stood up from the body. “Knocked out by this big guy.” He gestured to one of the lark chunk of ceiling lying beside the body. “And so were these two - his bodyguards?”

“Yeah. Goddammit.” Tired man with a scarf rubbed his eyes. “Let the others know I guess.”

Suddenly those same tired eyes snapped to Beast, noticing him as the dust cloud began to settle. Beast swore he saw a hint of red behind those irises.

“Mraow,” Beast-cat stared back at them.

The red faded.

Not taking any second chances, Beast-cat bounded off through the same hole Present Mic came out of. Soon enough, the whole house was surrounded by pro-Heroes and police and Beast had never been more relieved of his ability to shapeshift as he disappeared into the night.

------

…1 month later…

One would think spending a day as human would be sufficient time in readjusting to plantigrade ambulation after two weeks of digitigrade in his various avian forms, and yet Beast’s legs disagreed when he found himself nearly tripping over his own feet the fourth time that afternoon.

Embarrassing was what it was.

Though at the back of his mind, Beast was beginning to confirm suspicions he’s felt over the past several months. He was getting weaker. 

It was not surprising to Beast but he accepted it grimly. In fact it was as it should be after over half a year without Master.

Glancing around the lonely street, Beast raised his hand and knocked a blue door. He then shoved his hands into his pockets and waited.

Exactly twenty second later, the door tentatively opened and a familiar face peered out of the dark crack with a sheepish smile. “Wandering Beast?”

“Spotter,” Beast greeted. “And Beast is fine.”

“You look different,” the genius observed, then squinted. “There is a pigeon on your shoulder.” 

“Her name’s Pumpkin.”

“Hello Pumpkin.”

“Can I come in?”

A brief panic flashes across Spotter’s face before the man plastered a brave smile on his face and opened the door wider. “Make yourself at home. Why is there a pigeon on your shoulder?”

“I’ve been spending some time as a pigeon,” Beast answered honestly, “Doing some thinking.” He removed his shoes at the doorway while taking in the sight of the old house. It had obviously been renovated recently by the smell. “Pumpkin’s been keeping me company.”

“I see. She’s also shitting all over my new carpet.”

“Don’t worry about it, she does that everywhere. It’s nothing personal.” But at Spotter’s distressed look at the carpet, Beast mercifully raised a finger for Pumpkin to hop onto. “Fly,” he whispered. “I’ll meet you later.”

Pumpkin cooed and took off through the open door, disappearing.

“I didn’t mean you had to send her way!” Spotter looked guilty. “I have an old tray I don’t use, maybe we could have-”

“It’s fine.”

Still looking guilty, Spotter suggested, “Well, why don’t we move into this room. It’s where all your stuff is that you requested over your text message.”

The two sat down across an old wooden table, and Spotter spread out several paper files between them. “You said you wanted an extremely meticulous identity that could be under some intense scrutiny. Of course this will come at a higher price. These are the ones I’ve crafted for you. Take a look and choose your pick.”

Beast flicked through the files and found himself quickly impressed. Each were filled to the brim with different names, different identities and background information. “These are very detailed.”

Spotter sat up straighter, “Of course, I don’t do things by halves.” 

As Beast continued to read through them, he noticed Spotter shifting restlessly in his seat across from him. After a few minutes, the man finally seemed to give in, “I got to know, what happened after you left? At the party, I mean. I was fully prepared to watch you single-handedly take down the Shadow Approximate and then the heroes arrived and I got worried-”

“You… worried for me?” Beast glanced up in surprise.

“Well of course! You seemed like a nice person when I talked to you. And you were a potential client.”

Beast looked back down at the document and swallowed. 

Izuku Midoriya , the name on the file he was holding read.

“I didn’t kill Terror Lord.” Beast said quietly. “One of the heroes arrived and accidentally knocked him out with falling debris.”

“Oh...” said Spotter, disappointed.

“I’m glad.”

“...Oh!” Spotter injected enthusiasm into his tone. “Uh, why though, if I may ask? I thought you were all about, y’know, taking the gang down.”

“Someone very special to me would have wanted it that way.” Beast agreed. “I knew him as well as I know myself. He was like the other half of me, but I think it’s time I did things my own way… I’ve been dreaming for the first time in my life and after that night at the party, there is one thing I am certain of.”

Spotter asked curiously, “What’s that?”

“I want to be a hero.”

The curiosity froze on Spotter’s face and he started sweating. “Uh…”

Beast shifted. One second he was in a form similar in appearance to Master, and in the next, he was smaller. Shorter. Wide innocent green eyes and fluffy dark green hair. 

“ Who is that?” Spotter sounded anxious.

“Midoriya Izuku, sir,” Beast-Izuku tried out his new voice, far younger and closer to his real age than he was used to. “As a shapeshifter, I’m tired of flitting between lives like a ghost. I want a life that I can make my own. To be known as someone rather than the ever wandering lost soul of the streets. The Wandering Beast… Thank you for giving me this identity, Spotter. I will make it my own now.”

A little awed and amazed, Spotter inclined his head. “I’m glad I could help you out. Well then, let’s take a picture of you so we have something to put on your profile.”

After taking the photo and making some minor changes and adjustments, and of course making the payment, Beast-Izuku felt strangely light. And free. And excited. Beast-Izuku was ready to start this next chapter of his life.

“Goodbye Spotter!” Beast-Izuku beamed at him from the doorway, waving his hand eagerly.

“Goodbye... Midoriya!” 

An hour later Izuku Midoriya stood at the front gates of the school he would be attending in a few months. The sun was setting and the windows of the academy’s twin towers glowed a brilliant gold in reflection.

Pumpkin cooed from his shoulder.

“U.A. here I come.”

Chapter Text

… 5 months later … (present: February 26th)

Humans.

Although that was changing recently, Izuku’s opinion on them was usually to not have an opinion on them. Shapeshifters had to think from the minds of their bodies, and as silly as it sounded, there were times when he was amongst them that Izuku forgot he was not actually one himself. When a human waved their hand and bent reality to their will, or their bodies morphed, or the minds of those around them were altered by the will of one, Izuku found it difficult to comprehend that he was one of the reasons that made it happen. The bridge between humanity and the magical unknown.

If Izuku could forget that, he would not be so hurt when he saw a human abuse their quirk. But it also meant when a group of humans got together to use their quirks for the greater good, it took him a while to truly take it in. 

And when he did, his chest constricted with a strange feeling. Izuku had been feeling a lot of strange feelings lately. And not all of them had a name he could identify to them. 

But he was feeling one of the strange feelings now, watching excited, nervous, determined, and reluctant students from all over Japan and possibly beyond pour in through the gates of U.A. High to take their entrance examination with the hopes of becoming a future Hero.

Izuku didn’t know if he was quite ready to walk through the gates yet, content to stand back and experience the white noise chatter around him from so many humans with the goal of using their quirks for good. To make Japan a safer place. Izuku was overwhelmed with how many there were - almost enough to balance out the evil he had seen over his lifetime. Being from a world where humans time and time again abuse and misuse and neglect their wonderful quirks, the idea that humans could want the opposite was still a new concept to him.

But that was silly wasn’t it - over the past five months he lived among plenty of humans who used their quirks for good purposes. Besides, Heroes existed out and in public unlike the Villains who mostly worked in the shadows. And yet Izuku often felt as though the Heroes were some distant entity - too far away to ever be anything more than pixels on a screen. And he supposed that was why he had another of his strange feelings after the encounter with Present Mic - the first hero Izuku had ever seen up close. 

Izuku was nervous of seeing his perceptions of Heroes change. For he was sure, if he passed the exams today, he was bound to see the world in a way he had never been given the chance to before.

… 1 day earlier… (February 25th)

Riding the train felt weird to Izuku.

So many humans. He was squashed like salmon in a sushi roll between them. And if he let his olfactory senses kick in, he could smell a wave of warm morning breath and whatever they had for breakfast every time one of them opened their mouths to yawn.

Delightful.

He could see why his Master avoided public transport at all costs.

Getting used to the presence of humans who weren't eying him warily or trying to kill him took some time. It had been five months and Izuku was still on alert. He doubted it would ever truly go away until he died, and since that wasn’t happening any time soon - 

"Next stop is Gungan Station. Doors open on the left." The announcement rang out.

Izuku was more than eager to part company with his train companions, and he had a feeling they felt the same with him with all his fidgeting and grimacing.

Izuku didn't despise humans. No, no, after all his Master was one. But as he slowly grew used to them, they had gradually become more tiresome to deal with. Tired of wondering when one of them was going to come after him and his Master and then tired of realising they had no reason to because Master was dead and they shouldn't have recognised him.

Why was he studying so hard to get into UA again?

Flashes of memories of horrific scenes, terrifying Villains, and innocent bystanders caught between their little skirmishes like bugs on a windscreen flitted through his mind.

Oh right.

Most of them were too weak to defend themselves against more powerful quirks, especially those controlled by a twisted mind.

Izuku sniffed as he rummaged through his bag for his library books. Five, six… seven, he counted.

He would miss these books. 

Over the past few months the Gungan Central library had become a sort of home to him.  He knew the name of every librarian and staff, their favourite books, knew the life dramas of every frequent visitor and their favourite genres. Nobody was a threat to him here, and nobody bothered him when he didn't want to be. The library was an island of safety and peace in a world that didn’t quite fit him.

"Morning, 'Zuku." One of the librarians, a tall spiky-purple-haired woman with a memory-quirk smiled at him from the counter. 

“Morning, Ms. Furuya.” Izuku chirped back. “Any updates on Mrs. Clawdia?”

“She’s doing well! She’s doing well, the vet says she’ll be back to full health in about a week. Unfortunately respiratory infections are apparently quite contagious between felines so we’ll have to keep her resting at home for longer in case she passes it to the other library cats.”

“Poor Mrs. Clawdia. She mustn’t be very happy about that.”

“She isn’t,” Ms. Furuya laughed. “She’s been terribly grouchy alone at home. You’ll have to come say hello when she’s back in the library.”

As Izuku began placing his old books onto the drop-off conveyor belt, conversation naturally drifted to Izuku’s exam which was tomorrow. By this point, the other librarian, Mrs. Uchida had spotted the two of them and joined in on wishing Izuku luck. Sort of.

“Nonsense, there’s no doubt you’ll pass!” Mrs. Uchida spoke with such confidence Izuku wondered if his disguise was too strong. Had his eager-eyed studious persona come off as someone well-versed in the art of passing exams? The lack of nerves that came with someone unfamiliar with failing? Well that was certainly not the case with Izuku.

After all, this was his very first exam that relied solely on his own intellect. In the past Izuku was merely backup whenever Master sat his tests at school, and Master was often smart enough to pass by his own merit.

“You’ll have to come visit us when you’re all Hero-y and famous!” Mrs. Uchida cackled. 

“Hero-y?” Ms. Furuya tasted the word.

Mrs. Uchida continued without hesitation, “Yes. Then everyone will come to Gungan Central Library and we’ll become the most popular library in Japan! My ex who helps runs the library down in Eadu would be so jealous. In fact, why do we get your signature framed-”

“Mrs. Uchida!” Ms. Furuya nudged the older librarian sharply, making Mrs. Uchida’s red glasses rattle over her nose, before turning back to Izuku with a kind smile. “What we mean to say is, you’re always welcome here. Famous or no, we enjoy your company. As do our cats.”

Izuku reassured them he’d often stop by to visit and see the cats, whether he passed or not. He didn’t think he’d find another place as calming and safe as the library. 

Once he said his good-bye’s to the librarians and of the cats who wandered over wondering what all the fuss was about, Izuku stepped out of the library felt freer than ever for a moment. With the warm sun against his skin, the bustle of traffic all around, his shoulders light from the lack of books he had grown accustomed to carrying around with him, he wondered what he’d do on his last day before the exam.

He didn’t want to spend it studying. He’d had enough of books and reading. He’d spent the last five months mostly sleepless - because he did not require it to function - taking notes day and night. 

The route between the library and his… home… had become so familiar he had even begun to recognise faces of civilians he saw every day on his way between the two places. Businessmen in suits, children, an old woman who carried flowers with her everywhere she went… The smell of the streets and the taste of the air. 

His home… Master’s home in Dagobah, did not carry the same warm familiarity. 

Home was cold and dark, in a small apartment flat squashed between two larger blocks, overshadowed by them so that even at noon on a hot summer’s day the house remained drab and miserable.

It wasn’t home to him. Not anymore. 

And whatever chance he could spend away from it, he would. 

So when Izuku was out of sight of people, he hid his bag somewhere, and his clothes - which were merely part of his quirk-mass, dissolved into his shifting body. Where a young boy in fluffy green hair once stood in a quiet service road, he was now replaced by a bird of some sort. 

Izuku did not concern himself with a faithfulness in appearance to an existing species, and instead let his mind wander, taking whatever form it desired. And right now, all he wanted to do was fly . 

With no hesitation he flung himself from the ground, wings carrying him above the street, above the warehouses and the noisy roads, and as soon as he was over the level of the rooftops around him, he let the fresh gusts of wind sweep him into the skies. 

This . He thought. This was freedom. 

The breeze ruffled across his soft feathers, and as he watched pigeons flurry about below him, fleeing his shadow, he wondered not for the first time if Master’s death was not his inevitable demise, slowly rotting away on the last vestiges of Master’s strength and will, but rather a birth to a newer him. 

Something no quirk had ever been offered before him.

Was he doing the right thing?

The only reason Izuku went back to Master’s home the next day was to pick up the uniform he had bought with Master’s credit card to a small private school located on the outskirts of Musutafu City. Kamino Junior High School -  which he was fortunate enough to find a uniform on sale online from an older student who was graduating. Spotter had chosen the school with hopes of lowering the odds of one of the students at the U.A. Entrance Exam being from the same school.

No matter, Izuku had prepared several excuses should such a situation arise.

The train journey seemed longer than ever, but Izuku was just thankful the line wasn’t as busy as the usual one to the library. He actually had his own seat in this one! Lucky him.

Now was he nervous about the exam?

Izuku did not know.

… Present moment … (February 26th)

If he were human, Izuku thinks his palms might have begun sweating. As he let himself become one with the crowd of students entering through the U.A. Gates - otherwise known as the famous U.A. Barrier - he felt the immensity of the two shiny U.A. buildings towering over the students, the path leading up to the stairs beyond wide and intimidating. 

Just his luck when Izuku’s foot caught on something. He only had time to think to himself, damn, this is the second time I’m going to trip today , when -

The ground halted beneath him. Neither rushing up to meet his face nor falling away. 

Izuku was… floating?

“Are you alright?” A voice beside him asked. 

Izuku stared blankly at the ground. And then glanced up to see a small brown-haired girl smiling sheepishly beside him. Without a word she reached out to set him on his feet before pressing her two hands together. Instantly he felt her quirk recede and his weight return to him. “Sorry about using my quirk on you without asking,” she babbled. “It seemed like bad luck if you fell, right?”

She has some sort of gravity-nullifying quirk?

Stunned with the revelation, Izuku found himself blurting out, “Wow your quirk is amazing! Did you just cancel out gravity? One of the four fundamental forces of the universe?” Before immediately silently reprimanding himself. What are you doing! Izuku doesn’t ramble!! This isn’t part of the plan -

The girl stared at him, and slowly a heated shade of red began to form over her face. “Oh - ha - I guess so,” she hastily scratched the back of her head, eyes still wide. “But It’s not as amazing as it sounds, really!” She was quick to reassure him, and at Izuku’s growing frown, she explained, “I get pretty nauseous when I use it on things with a lot of mass. And for too long. So you see, it’s not that amazing.”

Izuku was nearly insulted at how much she was degrading her quirk. Then he remembered something, “Have you tried wearing pressure-point targeting devices? I know someone who also got nauseous whenever he used his quirk and wore this headgear which pressed down on points on his head and neck to mitigate the effects.”

Then I ripped off his headgear and killed him while he was still disorientated but that’s besides the point.

The girl blinked at him, “I, uh, no, actually. But that sounds really smart and I should totally give it a try!”

Izuku grinned, and soon found himself chatting with her on the way to the exam halls. “Just take deep breaths and drink some water if you find it getting too much. You’ll do great! I know it.” He hoped he sounded encouraging.

The girl smiled gratefully at him. “Thanks. You sound pretty confident yourself.”

“Only because I haven’t entered the exam hall yet. This all still seems like a dream to me, to be honest.” He chuckled through the lie. This felt very real to him. But it was true, he was a very visual person. Until he was actually inside the exam hall and looking around, the whole ordeal might as well be another month from now.

“Ha, I know the feeling.” The girl agreed with him. “Except I’m still nervous anyways.” She backtracked, “But you’ve been very helpful at calming me down! I feel much more prepared than I did a minute ago.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

“I think we’re here,” she lowered her voice, and Izuku scanned the area to see the large double doors looming over them like a giant maw, inhaling the steady stream of students towards their doom. 

Oh yeah , Izuku could feel the nerves creeping up on him now.

“I’m going to go find my seat, so uh, good luck!” The girl smiled nervously at him. 

“You too!” He found himself sharing her smile. 

And then he heaved a deep unnecessary breath and glanced at the card with his name and seat number in hand. 

One and a half hour later he was proudly handing in his exam papers at the front desk, wrist sore, and butt aching from sitting down for so long. If you thought a shapeshifter wouldn’t have to deal with such common biological pains, you thought wrong. Unless he did any major shapeshifting he was not looking forward to whatever the practical exam had in store for the students.

But he was proud nevertheless, having completed his first exam in his life. And nobody suspected a thing! He felt nearly giddy with amusement. A quirk! Sitting a test! Who would have thought. 

The U.A. was lucky he was not entering this exam or attempting to enter the school for nefarious purposes.

Izuku had moved onto the hall where one of the Heroes would be explaining the next part of the exam to them when he felt a tingle at the back of his neck. 

The hall was dark, but Izuku easily spotted the figure of a boy with a dark bird-head staring at him from the other side of the hall. Izuku didn’t like the way the boy was staring at him, but noticing Izuku’s attention was on him, the boy hastily averted his gaze. 

Having experienced people staring at him from the other side of the room before, history generally dictated that it was not a good sign. 

Izuku’s hackles were raised, so to speak, because as a shapeshifter quirk his hackles would not be raised unless he was consciously and deliberately doing so to appear as though he had some semblance of instinctual biological responses to external stimuli. Basically his hackles weren’t actually raised, but if Izuku were a creature of biology, they would be.

Izuku narrowed his gaze, but dragged his attention back to the front of the hall as he mulled over the possible reasons an innocent student could be staring at him. Had he coincidentally assumed the form of someone similar in appearance to a person bird-head boy knew? 

Izuku saved the boy’s face for later.

And then Present Mic stepped up onto stage before them, and Izuku promptly shoved bird-boy out of his mind in exchange for silent fanboying.

“For all you examinee listeners tuning in, welcome to my show today!” The Hero began with a bright smile and a booming voice.

Izuku took back his earlier thought. 

Sore butt or no, he was very much looking forwards to what the practical exam had in store. Giant killer robots - well, minus the killer and replace with pain - and Izuku was thoroughly excited.

In fact he might have shown a tad too much enthusiasm because as he stared down the massive concrete doors holding him back from the practical exam hall beyond, a student tapped him on the shoulder and Izuku spun round, recognising the dark blue hair and rectangular glasses of the boy that interrupted Present Mic during his introductory speech about the practical exam to critique his instructions.

“Are you taking this exam seriously? You have superseded the normal confidence threshold of a normal examinee with your unwarranted enthusiasm.” The boy sounded genuinely disgruntled, and his tone attracted the attention of several of the other students around them. 

Izuku stared wide-eyed at the boy. Then a thought dawned on him, and he lowered his voice to a whisper, “Are you a teacher in disguise, sir?”

“What!” The boy barked, bewildered. “What are you talking about?! Are you high?”

Evidently not.

Izuku’s interest faded. The boy was far too young to be a teacher anyway, but it would explain the way he seemed to be closely monitoring the exam proceedings.

“You appear to have relaxed upon hearing that I am not a teacher. But rest assured, I am just as capable of reporting you if you are-”

Izuku hastily put his palms out in front of him, “Wait, wait, I’m not high. I just…” He rapidly thought of an excuse for his apparent enthusiasm. “People tell me I look like I’m really excited when I’m actually nervous.” He finished off lamely. “I’m just really nervous.”

The boy made a face of disbelief. “If you are really nervous, have you not prepared enough for this exam in advance?”

No way this boy was real. “I am nervous because I have prepared so much for this exam that I worry I will still fail in spite of my hard effort.” He deadpanned, putting a stopper to this weird conversation.

The boy even had the nerve to go, “Hmm,” at his reasonable lie.

The boy was right though, Izuku shouldn't be this excited. He had no reason to be. It was unbecoming of his inexperienced but smart schoolboy image.

But in a way, he realized the excitement wasn't Izuku's. This was not Izuku's anticipation ripping through his metaphorical heart, this was Beast's.

Izuku had carried him only so far, studying and struggling day and night for the past five months to pass the written exam, pretending like the practical didn't exist. Because there was simply no time to train for both, so when it came to the physical stuff, he had to trust that Beast would take care of it. And he did. But of course, were things ever going to be so simple?

As the heavy doors rumbles and began to pull apart, Izuku closed his eyes and Beast opened them. Restraining his excitement now was like trying to put a muzzle on an angry lion.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Go, go, go! The Villains aren't gonna wait for you!" Present Mic hollered. 

Beast dove forward.

--

Thanks for reading!