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Chapter Text

Shouta opened his eyes and immediately regretted it.

His head pounded like he’d just been hit point-blank by Hizashi’s quirk, and the glare of the streetlamp burned into his eyes. He cursed and lurched to his feet, though the motion made his stomach rebel.

Had he been in a fight? Where was he?

Blinking furiously, Shouta looked around him. He was in a narrow alleyway, and the powerful stench of garbage rose from a nearby dumpster. Movement caught his attention, and Shouta turned to see a figure sprinting around the corner

 “Hey!” Shouta shouted, but the stranger didn’t pause. Shouta lurched after them, and he nearly tripped over the hem of his pants. By the time he reached the mouth of the alleyway, they were gone.

For some reason, his clothes were several sizes too large, and they hung loosely over his limbs. Shouta frowned down at himself and rolled up the fabric. It was soft, flexible, and thick enough to offer some protection. Shouta would have liked it, if it were the right size and he had any memory of it whatsoever.

Something heavy was wrapped around his neck. Shouta pulled it off and found himself with an armful of heavy fabric. He wrapped one end around his hand, testing the weight. It felt like the capture weapon he’d started training with, though the balance and material were better than his prototype.

Unease prickled in Shouta’s chest, and he forced it back down. He was a UA Heroes student. Whatever this was, he’d figure it out. He didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger, at least. Whatever the stranger had wanted, either they’d been scared away or had already gotten it.

Shouta pushed the thought aside as useless. Right now, he needed to focus on figuring out where he was, contacting the Pros, and getting back home.

His headache was fading, but his thoughts still felt muddled. Shouta vaguely remembered going to class earlier and training with Hizashi, but the details were blurred. Sometime between then and now, somebody had caught him with a Quirk, and he didn’t know who or what. Some kind of memory erasure? Brainwashing? Shouta tried to remember, but nothing came to him.

He fumbled through the clothes he was wearing, searching for a phone. The suit had an obscene number of pockets, and it took him several tries to find the phone in its folds. He shouldn’t have bothered. The screen was thoroughly cracked. Shouta flicked the power button, but the screen flickered fitfully before going dark. Shouta sighed and tucked it back away.

“I’m too tired for this,” Shouta muttered

With the capture weapon tucked under his arm, Shouta picked a random direction and started walking. It was late enough that the streets were almost deserted, and the few people he passed were easily avoided. Eventually, Shouta reached a street he recognized.

He was in a rundown area on the other side of town, about a half hour from his home. Shouta groaned and started walking. He wanted access to a phone and some real clothing. Then he was going to call Hizashi and Professor Nedzu so they could figure this out and sleep until the headache pounding behind his eyes went away.

His headache must have been affecting him more than he thought, because he got turned around several times. By the time he reached his street, he was in a thoroughly foul mood. He kept his eyes forward as he followed the familiar path, and before he knew it he was at the end of the street. Shouta froze with one foot in the air. Had he really walked past his apartment building? He didn’t think he’d been that distracted.

He turned around and started back up the street, paying closer attention to his surroundings. The street was deserted and windows dark, but something was putting him on edge. He activated his Quirk and looked around. Nothing.

Shouta paused by the corner store as he passed. It had a different sign and a new coat of paint, and Shouta’s eyes caught on the new shelving inside the door. A moment later, he forgot all about it.

His apartment was gone.

Shouta froze on the sidewalk. His arms fell slack, and the capture weapon dropped to the ground. Shouta was standing in front of an empty field where his apartment should have been, as if eight stories of metal and concrete had vanished into thin air.

Shouta stumbled forward, and his feet met grass instead of sidewalk. The grass was almost up to his knees, and his feet caught against old stone and broken bits of concrete. He stopped in the middle of the lot. It had been a long time since anything had stood here, long enough for the ground to settle and become overgrown. Shouta had woken up in his room just that morning.

Distantly, Shouta noticed he was shaking. He activated his Quirk again, hoping for something to show itself, but there was nothing.

…

The next hour was a blur. Shouta remembered walking. He remembered keeping his head down against fluorescent lights and slipping through the shadows, away from any people or cameras.

He’d lived in the city his entire life, and in a moment it had turned unfamiliar. The skyline had new buildings jutting upwards. Old landmarks were gone or changed. Eventually, Shouta kept his gaze locked on the concrete in front of him so he wouldn’t have to see it.

He was almost surprised when he looked up to find the familiar gates of UA in front of him. He stayed there, feet rooted to the ground, for a full minute before he could force himself to walk forward.

The gate opened at his touch. As he walked inside, the tension melted off his shoulders.

It was the middle of the night and campus was deserted, but UA was the most prestigious Hero academy in the country and home to a dozen Pro Heroes. He’d be safe here until morning, when he could find Professor Nedzu and figure out what was happening.

Shouta’s first stop was the locker rooms. He found a spare uniform in his size easily enough, and it was a relief to be wearing clothes that fit him again. He considered tossing the unfamiliar tracksuit in the trash, but he shoved it into an empty locker instead. Maybe it’d be useful later.

He ended up in a breakroom tucked away on the third floor. Shouta had found it during his second week at UA and claimed one of the overstuffed couches during lunch breaks. Hizashi had jokingly attached a nametag with his name on it a few weeks back, though it looked like it’d fallen off since then.

 Shouta collapsed on the couch and groaned. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the cushions.

…

Shouta slept poorly.

It wasn’t anything new. For all that he could fall asleep easily, his brain struggled with the staying asleep part. Shouta slept in short bursts and jerked awake at any noises, real or imagined. He gave up around sunrise and started pacing the campus. Not long afterwards, he started seeing people walking around. Shouta ignored them. He didn’t recognize anyone, so they were probably first years or support students. Not people he needed to worry about.

Except, as class time grew closer, he still hadn’t seen any familiar faces. Shouta frowned. He preferred to ignore most of his classmates, but he could recognize most people in his year. By now, he should have run across at least one.

That uneasy feeling in his chest was growing again. Shouta looked closer at each face he passed, but it didn’t help. It was a relief to finally catch sight of a teacher, but the emotion was short lived. He didn’t recognize her. She was clearly a professional Hero, but Shouta had never seen her before in his life.

Shouta lowered his head and kept walking, this time with purpose. It was still early, but at least a few of his classmates should have arrived by now. Maybe even Hizashi; his friend was always disgustingly chipper in the mornings. Shouta didn’t let himself hesitate at the door. He opened it immediately.

Several students were already inside. Shouta didn’t recognize a single person.

A tall, stiff student stood up and started walking towards him.

“Greetings! I haven’t seen you around before, are you-”

“Wrong classroom,” Shouta grunted, and he stepped backwards into the hallway, closing the door behind him.  His hands were trembling. He made it partway down the hallway before his legs gave out. He sank into one of the benches and resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands.

UA wasn’t safe either. His classmates weren’t here. Hizashi wasn’t here. Shouta was willing to bet Professor Nedzu wouldn’t be walking down that hallway either. Shouta tried to think rationally about what was happening, but he couldn’t seem to think at all. Nothing made sense, and Shouta didn’t know what to do.

The crowd swelled as class time drew nearer and then thinned out. When the warning bell rang, the sound was the same as always. It was the push Shouta needed to stand on his unsteady legs, and he turned down the hallway.

Footsteps. Shouta looked up, expecting to see a tardy student, but it was another unfamiliar professor. Shouta was absolutely certain he’d never seen this one before. The man had the most ridiculous hair Shouta had ever seen. It reminded Shouta of a cockatiel as it defied gravity and arched away from his head. He was wearing an absurd amount of leather too, along with something metal clasped around his neck. Shouta didn’t get a good look before the man walked past him. He turned into the classroom from earlier, and Shouta kept walking,

…

UA was full of empty hallways and spare rooms, so it was easy for Shouta to hide away during class. He avoided anyone who could ask questions about what he was doing. Shouta wouldn’t have an answer for them. He still had no clue what was going on, and he wasn’t about to go running to strangers for help. Not until he had more information.

The next bell rang, and Shouta forced himself to move. Passing period. The hallways would be crowded with distracted students. He was right, though the crush of people bumping into him was annoying. Shouta waited for an opportunity. He didn’t have to wait long.

A group walked towards him, chatting happily. A guy with blue hair was gesturing excitedly, and his phone hung out of his back pocket. As Shouta walked past, he deftly pulled the phone with him. The student didn’t even flinch. Shouta slid the phone into his own pocket and buried the twinge of guilt. He’d turn the phone in later, after he finished.

He retreated to an empty stairwell before pulling the phone out. It was locked, but Shouta wasn’t interested in the apps or pictures or whatever the stranger hid on his phone. He just needed to make a call, and a swipe of his fingers brought the keypad up. Hizashi loved to pester people via text, and Shouta had his number memorized within a week of exchanging them. It took him two tries to type in the numbers, and he held the phone up to his ear, hoping desperately that this time, finally, something would go right.

He heard a dial tone. Shouta stood there, frozen, until an automated voice told him the number had been disconnected. Shouta threw the phone at a wall, and he screamed.

The stairway echoed with the sound until it faded away, leaving Shouta breathless and furious. Guilt brought him over to the fallen phone.  He tucked it in his pocket, but he couldn’t make himself leave the stairway for a long time.

…

Shouta ghosted around campus for the rest of the day. He told himself he was gathering information, but it was hard to pay attention to anything. He started getting hungry around lunch, and he followed the crowd. The cafeteria was where he remembered it, and nobody bothered him as he joined the line.

He sat at the first empty table and kept his head down, ignoring the rest of the room. He barely tasted the food as he ate, determined to leave as quickly as possible. Of course, his luck wasn’t any better now than it’d been all day. He was barely halfway through his meal when somebody invited himself over. Shouta looked up to see bright red hair and a jagged grin.

“Hi, I’m Kirishima! It’s nice to meet you!” he said.

Shouta stared at him, hoping he would take the hint and leave. Unfortunately, Kirishima just laughed and sank into one of the seats.

“You’re the guy that wandered into 2-A earlier, right? Iida was telling us about you! I don’t think I’ve seen you around campus before. Are you new?”

Shouta nodded. Something about Kirishima reminded him of Hizashi. Shouta didn’t think he’d have any better luck getting rid of this kid than he’d had when Hizashi first started on his mission to become Shouta’s friend.

“Cool! It’s been a while since we had a transfer student. What department?”

“Gen Ed.”

The lie came too easily to his lips, and Shouta fought a grimace. Saying he was in Gen Ed, even for a cover story, stung. It had been months since he’d been transferred to the Heroes course, and some days he still expected to wake up and hear that it’d all been a misunderstanding. Kirishima seemed to believe him, at least.

“That’s great, dude! I wonder if they brought you in to replace Shinsou.”

“Shinsou?”

Kirishima nodded vigorously. “Yeah, this year’s Hero’s department transfer. Didja watch last year’s Sports Festival?”

Shouta nodded weakly, barely able to keep the shock off his face.

“The purple guy in the first round was Shinsou! The one with the brainwashing Quirk. He was in some intense remedial training over the summer, and he transferred over at the start of this year. Pretty manly, right?”

“Sure.”

Kirishima kept grinning. He really was like Hizashi, albeit with less shouting. Shouta wondered if he’d walked over because of this Iida’s comments or because he’d seen Shouta eating alone and thought he looked lonely.

“I’m surprised they didn’t give you a guide or something your first day. UA’s a really big place, and it’s easy to get lost.”

“They seemed preoccupied.”

Shouta was thinking of his own problems, not the school’s, but it seemed to strike a chord with Kirishima. His smile dimmed, and he looked away. “Yeah. I, uh, guess that makes sense. I’m sure they’ll get everything sorted out soon though, so you shouldn’t worry.”

Shouta stayed silent, waiting for an explanation. Kirishima held out for a few seconds before deflating with a sigh.

“Our teacher, Eraserhead went missing last night. Everyone’s really worried about him.”

Shouta blinked and thought back to that morning outside the 2-A classroom. No wonder the other professor had seemed stressed. He considered the name Eraserhead for a moment, but it was just one more unfamiliar thing.

“I haven’t heard of him.”

Kirishima laughed, though the sound was more subdued than earlier. “Yeah, I’m not surprised! He’s an underground hero. He doesn’t get much press ‘cept as a teacher here. He’s like the manliest guy ever though. A total badass.”

“He’ll probably be fine. He’s only been gone a few hours; it’s illogical to give up on him so quickly.”

Shouta was rewarded as Kirishima perked right back up. “You’re right! Eraserhead would be totally disappointed if he saw us all moping around instead of paying attention in class. You’re a pretty chill guy!” He paused for a moment as if confused before continuing. “Sorry, man, what was your name again?”

Shouta froze. He was reluctantly starting to like Kirishima, but he certainly didn’t trust him or any of the strangers taking his classmates’ places. Aizawa was rather distinctive, but he knew another, more common name. He was sure Hizashi wouldn’t mind.

“Yamada.”

“Nice to meet you, Yamada! Say, there’s a professor here with the same last name. Any chance you’re related?”

“I doubt it.”

He’d finished eating, so Shouta stood. He nodded at Kirishima and walked away. Kirishima called out after him.

“It was nice meeting you, Yamada! I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Shouta didn’t bother answering as he left the cafeteria. He needed to do some research.

…

UA had an advanced computer lab buried in the main building’s library. It was empty now, thankfully, and Shouta sat in his usual seat. By now, he barely noticed that the computer chairs had been reupholstered with a brighter fabric. It was just one more bullet point on his list and barely a blip compared to the bigger changes. Shouta didn’t have his ID on him, so he navigated to the login screen and typed in his information.

Denied.

Shouta stared at the screen and let his head fall forward, thumping against the keyboard. Of course. Even accessing the internet was off-limits to him. Fantastic.

He tried again, just to be sure, and wasn’t surprised at all when his info was rejected again. Shouta scrubbed at his face and stood up. Enough of this. He was going to go upstairs and take a nap. He’d figure out something else later, when he could think clearly again. The lack of sleep was catching up to him.

…

When the last bell ended, Shouta was surprised by the lack of a stampede leaving campus. Sure, a small crowd left, but far more students stayed behind to disperse around campus. Shouta just sighed and slouched against the edge of the roof. It was getting harder to care about each small change. He’d managed to steal a few hours of sleep, but they hadn’t been particularly restful. He couldn’t relax, and he missed the privacy of his real bed fiercely.

Most of the students seemed to be heading in the same direction. Shouta stared after them, and for the first time he noticed a cluster of buildings on his left, mostly hidden in the trees. Shouta stared at it, hoping the buildings would do the right thing and disappear, but they stubbornly remained in existence. Shouta turned away. He’d just woken up, and he was already ready for another nap.

Instead of retreating to his couch, Shouta headed for the stairs. If he took a nap every time he wanted one, he’d never get anything else done. He might as well investigate the new buildings.

It was a short walk. The buildings were several stories tall and larger than they’d seemed from a distance. They were conveniently labeled with the class numbers, and there was one for every course and year. As Shouta watched, he saw several students walking in or out. Dorms. These were definitely dorms. Shouta frowned.

UA had never been a boarding school. There was no reason for it to be. What had changed?

“The Gen Ed dorms are on the left!” someone said from behind him.

Shouta flinched and turned around. The speaker was a girl around his age with pale pink skin and horns. She was wearing athletic gear and holding a pair of headphones.

“You’re the new Gen Ed transfer, right?”

Shouta nodded.

“Oh, good! I thought I recognized you from lunch. I’m Mina Ashido, by the way! I’m one of Kirishima’s friends. Are you lost again?”

“No. I’m familiarizing myself with campus.”

Ashido nodded vigorously, still smiling. Shouta was starting to see why she and Kirishima were friends.

“That’s smart! Campus is huge, you know. There’s a ton of great training areas too. I’m heading to the gym now, so I can show you if you want.”

“No.”

Ashido clasped her hands together. “C’mon, please? I promise it’s interesting! Just because you’re in Gen Ed instead of the Heroes course doesn’t mean you shouldn’t stay in shape!”

Shouta took a deep breath and reminded himself that Ashido wasn’t intentionally insulting him. Most Gen Ed students were at UA for the academic opportunities, not training, so it was a reasonable assumption for her to make. No matter how wrong it was.

“I know how to fight,” Shouta said.

Ashido lit up. “Even better! You should totally spar with me.”

“No.”

“Please? I promise I’ll go easy on you. I haven’t had a new sparring partner in ages, and it gets boring when you’re fighting the same few people all the time!”

Shouta stared at her, wondering how long it would take for her to give up. He could walk away. That was usually enough to make people stop bothering him. Although, if Ashido was friends with Kirishima, it probably meant she was part of the 2-A class that had replaced Shouta’s. It was only logical to learn more about them.

“You’re in the Heroes course?”

“Yup!”

Shouta sighed. “Fine. But only a couple rounds.”

Ashido pumped her fist in the air. “Yes! You won’t regret this!”

Ashido maintained a continuous chatter throughout the entire walk. Shouta occasionally grunted or offered a monosyllable answer, but Ashido didn’t seem bothered. She was still happily smiling and talking when they reached the gym.

The gym, at least, was just how Shouta remembered it. It was the same building, and the equipment inside hadn’t changed. Ashido grabbed his arm and pulled him towards one of the sparring rings along the back, and Shouta reluctantly followed.

A shock of bright red hair caught his attention. Kirishima was at one of the benches, pressing some weights. Another student with spiked blonde hair and what looked like a permanent scowl sat next to him. Kirishima grinned when he saw Shouta, though he didn’t stop his repetitions.

“No Quirks, alright?” Ashido said. “We’re still on campus, but the teachers are real strict about only practicing our Quirks with one of them nearby.”

Shouta walked to the center of the mats. Of course he wouldn’t show off his Quirk. Erasure was too distinctive, and it worked best when he caught his opponents by surprise. He wasn’t about to give up his best advantage.

Ashido shrugged off her jacket and followed him into the ring. Shouta noted the defined muscles of her arms and the smoothness of her movements. Shouta wouldn’t underestimate her.

“So, how good are you exactly? Have you been training long? I don’t want to accidentally hurt you or anything.”

Shouta stared blankly at her. It sounded like she was the one underestimating him. Shouta wasn’t surprised. He knew he was short, and his baggy clothing made him look skinnier than he was. Still, a second year Heroes student should know better.

“Start the match and you’ll find out,” Shouta said.

Ashido gasped dramatically. “Rude!”

“Your enemies won’t tell you their skill level before they attack. Why should I?”

Ashido laughed as she fell into a fighting stance.

“Alright, I can’t argue with that! You better not complain if I hit you too hard though. Are you ready?”

Shouta nodded. A moment later, Ashido charged at him. She was fast, and she led with a right hook. Good power, decent form, but she clearly wasn’t expecting retaliation. Sloppy. Shouta grabbed her outstretched arm, twisted, and pulled, using her own momentum to throw her over his shoulder. Ashido slammed into the ground, and Shouta pinned her before she could catch her breath.

“I win,” Shouta said.

Ashido stared up at him in disbelief. She twisted, trying to flip them, but Shouta’s grip was too strong. He didn’t budge.

“Holy shit,” she said. “That was amazing! You’re really good!”

Shouta grunted and let her go. It didn’t seem like she’d hold a grudge over being beaten by someone outside the Heroes course. Good. He’d dealt with enough of those prideful idiots after the Sports Festival. He hesitated then held out a hand to help Ashido stand up.

“Again?” Shouta asked.

Ashido nodded vigorously and took his hand without hesitation. “I won’t let you win so easily this time! I’m totally prepared now!”

“And you weren’t earlier?”

Ashido flushed and mumbled some excuse as she fell into her fighting stance. Shouta started a countdown. Like the first time, Ashido attacked first, and Shouta was ready for her. Ashido didn’t overextend herself again. She kept her movements tight and swift, and she had some of the most precise footwork Shouta had seen on another student. Shouta had to go full out to keep up.

She’s good, Shouta though. She’s really good.

Even in the Heroes course, not many could keep up with him in hand to hand. It was how he’d won the Sport Tournament. Shouta wasn’t sure he’d win this one. He felt a smile stretch his lips. Ashido took one look at his face and blanched, and Shouta got his first, solid punch in while she was distracted.

To her credit, she recovered quickly. She blocked Shouta’s next attack, and the spar picked up again. Eventually, though, Shouta tripped her up with a particularly complex combo, and he knocked Ashido’s feet out from under her. It took longer to pin Ashido this time, but eventually he managed it. Ashido yielded, and Shouta released her and stood.

“You’ve got a really scary smile, you know that?” Ashido said as she took Shouta’s hand.

“So I’ve heard.”

As Hizashi liked to put it, Shouta’s normal smile scared small children. Though, he’d also laughed and called it part of Shouta’s charm. Hizashi wasn’t a very reliable source.

The next round, Ashido got him with some truly impressive footwork, and Shouta’s back hit the mat. Shouta yielded, and Ashido leapt off him, pumping her fists in victory.

“Yes! Finally! Man, you’re good.”

She helped Shouta to his feet. They both were breathing hard, and Shouta could feel Ashido’s hand shaking from exertion. It was probably time for a break, and Ashido enthusiastically agreed when he suggested it.

“I’m gonna grab a drink. Do you want anything?”

Shouta shrugged, which Ashido seemed to take as assent. He stretched as Ashido walked away, letting some of the stiffness bleed away. He’d expected to regret coming, but he’d been wrong. Ashido was the best sparring partner he’d had in a while. She could keep up with him—beat him, even—and she wasn’t upset when she lost. She was talkative, but Shouta’s tolerance for loud people had gone up after befriending Hizashi.

Ashido returned with two bottles of water. She tossed one at Shouta, who caught it and snapped it open. Ashido kept looking at him, and she reached over to poke Shouta’s chest.

“Man, you’re all muscle under this aren’t you! Do you have some strength enhancing Quirk or something?”

“No.”

Shouta drank some of the water. Ashido kept looking at him.

“So what is your quirk?” she asked.

Shouta stared at her until she looked away.

“Sorry, that was rude! You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Shouta shrugged and took another drink of water. When he finished, he said, “It’s not important. Are you ready for another round?”

She was, and they took to the training mats again.

…

By the time they finished, Shouta was just barely in the lead. Ashido had made him work for every point, and Shouta was ready to return to the main building and collapse on a couch. They’d also attracted an audience. Kirishima and spiky blonde boy had finished their exercises and were watching from the sidelines. Kirishima whooped when Shouta pinned Ashido in the last round.

“That’s amazing!” he said, jumping up. “I can’t believe you beat Mina! Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

Shouta shrugged and followed Ashido out of the ring. Kirishima came with them.

“You’re gonna be trying for the Hero’s course, right? I mean, with that kind of skill, you practically have to!”

The comment was meant to be encouraging, but it hit Shouta hard. Trying for the Heroes course. He was supposed to be past trying, but here he was, pretending to be in Gen Ed again. The irony was physically painful. Shouta didn’t let it reach his face, and Kirishima, thankfully, didn’t read into his silence.

 “Hey, Dead Eyes,” the spiky blond kid said.

It took Shouta a moment to realize the other teen was talking to him. As far as nicknames went, it wasn’t the worst thing Shouta had been called. The other teen still had that grimace on his face, like he was angrily trying not to sneeze.

“Fight me. With Quirks. I wanna see what you’re really made of.”

Everyone looked at him. Ashido facepalmed and muttered something uncomplimentary, and even Kirishima’s grin grew strained.

“That’s, uh, kinda illegal my man? We’re still unsupervised.”

Without breaking eye contact with Shouta, spiky blonde boy said, “Then go find a teacher, and we won’t be. I’m gonna show the transfer what a real fight looks like.”

Shouta blinked and decided he didn’t have nearly enough energy to deal with this.

“No,” he said and walked away.

Dead silence behind him. Then spiky blonde kid started yelling.

“The fuck did you just say?” he shouted.

He ran up behind Shouta and grabbed his shoulder. Shouta took the offending hand, twisted it, and flipped the blonde over his shoulder. Then he kept walking. There was a pause as blondie caught his breath, and then the screaming started again, louder and accompanied by what sounded like small explosions.

Shouta glanced back to see that spikey blonde boy was indeed surrounded by explosions—his Quirk, Shouta supposed—and Kirishima was holding him in place while looking significantly spikier than before. The explosions didn’t seem to be harming him, and he sent Shouta a somewhat shaky thumbs up before motioning for him to keep walking. With a shrug, Shouta did. He was almost back at the main campus before he stopped hearing the increasingly creative death threats shouted after him.

…

Chapter Text

Shouta found a sleeping bag.

It was neatly rolled up and tucked away in a closet. Shouta wouldn’t have noticed, except that it was near one of his favorite napping spots. He’d often used the closet to store school supplies or snacks for when he was too tired to bother with the stairs. Apparently someone else had the same idea. The sleeping bag was an obnoxiously cheerful shade of yellow, but it was soft and thick.

Shouta didn’t normally approve of stealing, but it was three am, he hadn’t slept longer than an hour at a time since the alleyway, and he was only borrowing it anyway. Shouta took the sleeping bag with him. He’d return it later.

The bag was even more comfortable than it looked. He still didn’t sleep well, but he made it almost until sunrise before giving up. He spent the morning wandering around campus and staying out of sight. He found more of his normal nap spots and tested them out again. Overheard a few conversations, none of them interesting. Lunch arrived eventually, and Shouta fell in with the rest of the stampede towards the cafeteria. He’d barely grabbed a tray when he heard someone calling his fake name.

“Yamada! Hey, over here!”

It was Ashido. She and Kirishima were waving at him. The blonde kid from the gym was sitting next to them, completely ignoring their antics. Two unfamiliar students completed the group: another blonde with a lightning bolt died into his hair and a darker haired boy.

Shouta reluctantly turned to join them. They were exhausting, but Ashido and Kirishima were tolerable enough. He was less hopeful about the spikey kid, but Shouta could leave if he started making a nuisance of himself again.

Spiky kid glared at him as Shouta sat down, but he didn’t say anything.  Kirishima was welcoming enough for the entire group.

“Guys, this is Yamada! He just transferred over to Gen Ed. Yamada, this is Denki Kaminari, Hanta Sero, and you’ve already met Bakugo.”

Kirishima pointed at each of them, ending with the spiky kid who’d invaded his personal space yesterday. Shouta nodded a greeting. They didn’t seem fazed by his silence.

“How are you liking UA?” Sero asked.

Shouta shrugged. “It’s loud. Intense.”

He tried thinking back to his first semester at UA, but nothing stood out. He mostly remembered his fury at the ridiculous entrance exam and his determination to be the best damn student until they had to transfer him. The lessons and his classmates had paled in comparison.

“Don’t be surprised if he ends up joining us in a few months! This guy’s crazy good; he beat me in a spar yesterday!” Ashido said, nudging his shoulder.

That earned him several admiring comments. Bakugo’s glare intensified.

“Don’t act so impressed. We don’t even know what Dead Eyes’ Quirk is,” Bakugo said.

Shouta had learned to be proud of his Quirk, but he knew better than to rely on it. Skill and application were far more important. He wondered if anyone had tried teaching that to Bakugo or if the teen was too stubborn to listen.

 “There’s more to being a hero than having a fancy Quirk,” Shouta said.

The table fell silent. Bakugo shot up and slammed his hands on the table.

“The fuck do you mean by that?” he shouted. “You wanna go? Is that it?”

Shouta held eye contact as he took another sip from his soda. “I’m not interested,” he said.

He was unsurprised when Sero and Ashido had to physically stop Bakugo from vaulting over the lunch table to attack him. That kid needed to work on his temper, especially if he wanted to be a Hero. Eventually, they wrestled Bakugo back into his seat, where he sat, fuming. His hands gave off little pops of fire. Shouta wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be intimidating, or if Bakugo couldn’t control his Quirk while upset.   

The conversation eventually picked up around him. The others didn’t seem to mind Shouta’s silence. He didn’t particularly care about undone English homework, of all things. English was Hizashi’s specialty, not his. Except Ashido stopped, and her previous cheer softened into something hesitant.

“Present Mic’s been acting weird. You guys have noticed it too, right?”

Everyone nodded. Even Bakugo took a break from glaring at Shouta to pay attention.

“He and Eraserhead have been friends since they were at UA, right? He’s probably crazy with worry right now,” Kaminari said.

“Eraserhead? Isn’t he the missing teacher?” Shouta said.

“Yeah. We’re all in his homeroom,” Kirishima said. “It’s been two days now, and they haven’t told us anything. You’ve probably had Present Mic for English too, right?”

Shouta nodded, though he had no idea who Kirishima was talking about.

 “They keep it professional and all, but you can tell they’re super close. I’ve always wondered if there was, you know, something more between those two. They act like it sometimes, ‘specially after class when most of the students are gone.”

Ashido and Sero nodded along. Shouta wondered how often they gossiped about their teachers’ personal lives.

 “I’m surprised he’s teaching class instead of out looking for Eraserhead,” Ashido said. “He looks almost as tired as Eraserhead always does. His hair was actually drooping today!”

Bakugo snorted. “Of course Present Mic’s here. Eraserhead would break him in fucking half if he came back and found out he was ignoring his students. Eraserhead hates that kind of stuff. Remember USJ?”

Kirishima cracked a smile. “He was so badass.”

“If the League of Villains couldn’t stop him, of course this shit won’t. So stop whining about it.”

Ashido must have noticed his confusion, because she turned to him and said, “The USJ incident happened last year when villains attacked during a training exercise. Eraserhead was, like, seriously hurt, but he showed up to class the next Monday like nothing had happened. He looked like a mummy with all the bandages, but he taught class just like always.”

Shouta’s respect for the missing teacher ticked upwards. Teaching Heroes was a serious responsibility. It was good to hear about someone giving it the respect it deserved. Lunch was coming to an end, and they started gathering their trash.

“We’ve got combat training this afternoon, right?” Kaminari said. “Do you think we’ll have someone else supervising?”

Shouta glanced over. He remembered combat training from his own class. Several students only used it to show off their Quirks, but enough people took it seriously to make it interesting. If he wanted to learn about the replacement class, watching them train was the most logical method. The students seemed like good enough people—for the most part—but you could never be overprepared.

They split up after leaving the cafeteria. Shouta meandered through the halls for a few minutes before making his way towards 2-A’s normal training grounds. It was a basic training area, little more than a large, multipurpose clearing lined with various mats and seating.

Shouta arrived before the Heroes class. He settled into a good perch at the more thickly forested outskirts of the training grounds. Close enough to see what was going on, and far enough away that the class wouldn’t notice him.

Shouta heard them coming before he saw them. They were a noisy bunch, and Shouta relaxed when the class reached the training grounds. He’d been half convinced that his memory would be wrong again or that they’d go to another area for a specialized lesson.

Their teacher was a tall, gaunt man with a head of wild yellow hair that reminded Shouta of a sunflower. Shouta assumed he was the teacher anyway. He was unhealthily thin, like he was recovering from a severe illness. He divided the students into various groups, and Shouta settled in to watch.

…

Shouta was impressed.

The class was good. Really good. They weren’t anywhere near a Pro’s level, of course, but for second year students? They were miles better than most of Shouta’s class. Shouta swore that half of his classmates didn’t belong in the Heroes course, due to either a lack of skill or bloated ego. Shouta took a particular pleasure in beating those students into the ground.

 This class was doing a team sparring exercise: Kirishima and a guy with a tail against a speedster and a frog girl. It was a close match, but Shouta was leaning towards the frog girl’s team. Paired with the speedster, her ranged attacks were effective at disrupting their opponents’ defenses.

Shouta was so distracted by the fight that he didn’t notice someone approaching until a branch cracked underfoot behind him. He shot to his feet, but he was trapped between the intruder and the class.

A hand pushed some branches aside, and a teenager emerged. He looked exhausted with thick bags under his eyes, and his purple hair was even more ridiculous than Hizashi’s. His hair seemed to naturally defy gravity compared to Hizashi’s hair gel obsession.

“What are you doing?”

Shouta blinked at him and debated whether he could break past him. Except, any conflict would alert the rest of the class. The student’s eyes slid past him to where the rest of the class was clearly visible. Something in his expression shifted as he looked back at Shouta.

“You’re that new Gen Ed student everyone’s talking about. Yamada. I’m Hitoshi Shinsou.”

Shouta gave Shinsou his full attention, abandoning thoughts of escape. “You’re the Hero’s course transfer.”

The impossible one, because Shouta had damn well been the first transfer in decades. Shouta eyed him more closely. He still had no good theory about what was happening. Was this guy supposed to be his doppelganger? Shouta hated to admit he could see some similarities.

“Gen Ed has their own class now. Skipping class your first week isn’t a great start at UA.”

Shouta shrugged. “It’s nothing important,” he said.

“Why here?”

Shouta didn’t have an answer for him. Not one he was willing to give, anyway, or that Shinsou was likely to believe. Shinsou didn’t let the silence drag on long. With a quiet sigh, he walked up to Shouta and sat next to his recently vacated seat.

“Ashido says you’ve had good martial arts training. She’s been gushing about her new sparring partner to everyone in the class.”

Hesitantly, Shouta sat back down. Shinsou hadn’t asked a question, so he didn’t bother responding. Another match was beginning between Ashido, Sero, and a few other students. A multi-limbed teen was thrown out of the ring and Sero incapacitated before Shinsou started speaking again.

“You’re aiming for the Hero’s course too, aren’t you? Ambitious. You just transferred into the most competitive school in the country, and you’re already looking at the next step.”

Shouta almost burst into laughter. Trying for the Heroes course. Sure. It’d only been his dream for his entire life, and he’d done it. He’d fought for years to make it happen only to wake up and find everything gone. His position, his friends, even his home. He wasn’t even in Gen Ed anymore.

Shinsou noticed his reaction, though of course he misinterpreted it.

“You don’t have to decide now. If you’re good enough, you don’t even need to be in the Heroes course to get a license. Are you going to keep sparing with Ashido?”

Shouta nodded.

“Good. Maybe I’ll see you there next time.”

They watched the match finish in silence. Shinsou didn’t move to leave, and eventually Shouta asked a question.

“How did you get the transfer?”

He’d been wondering since he’d first heard about Shinsou. Just how far did the similarities go?

“It’s a bit of a story,” Shinsou said.

“I have time.”

He wasn’t sure Shinsou did—surely his turn in the spars was coming up again—but Shinsou didn’t seem concerned.

“I’m sure you saw the Sports Festival last year. I made it to the third task and was knocked out right away. I wasn’t angry at Midoriya, but coming to terms with the failure was hard. I’d been counting on the Festival.”

He said the words easily, like they didn’t matter, but Shouta could see the lie for what it was. Whatever happened had cut deeply. Yet, when Shinsou smiled, the expression was genuine as well.

“Eraserhead saw something in me. I sought him out afterwards, and he agreed to take me on as a student. He trained me personally over the summer and agreed to the transfer this year.”

Not like Shouta then. Professor Nedzu had been enthusiastic about his transfer, but he certainly hadn’t helped Shouta earn it. Of course, their fighting styles weren’t particularly compatible either.

Shinsou stood. His smile was thin but genuine as he looked at Shouta

“I’ll see you around,” he said, tossing the words over his shoulder as he walked back to his classmates. Shouta watched him go. Training was only half over, but Shouta couldn’t concentrate. He left.

…

AN: Fun fact: I haven't read the manga, so I only know the bare bones about what happens after season 2 of the anime. Hopefully nothing conflicts! Next chapter should be up Saturday morning, before I abandon society for the Georgian wilderness for 10 days.

Chapter Text

Day 3: Wednesday

Shouta was in a foul mood.

It had been three days. Three days of sneaking around the UA campus, pretending to belong. Of barely managing a few hours of sleep a night and jerking awake at every sound. Of eavesdropping on conversations and scrambling for any scrap of information. And he had nothing to show for it.

Shouta was starting to doubt his own memories. This UA was undoubtedly real; no Quirk could create an illusion so real or lasting. It was also entirely incompatible with Shouta’s memories. He couldn’t be a UA student if nobody recognized him. Couldn’t live with his foster family if the entire apartment building was gone. Couldn’t be friends with Hizashi if the other teen didn’t exist.

Shouta didn’t let himself dwell on the thoughts. Not until he found proof, one way or another.

It was hard to drag himself out of the yellow sleeping bag, though it had been hours since he’d managed to sleep. He forced himself into the cafeteria for food. The 2-A group was already there, and Shouta left before Ashido or Kirishima noticed him. He didn’t want company, especially not ones who believed Shouta’s fake backstory.

He stuck to the smaller hallways, where he could avoid the oppressive crush of other students. It wasn’t completely empty though. He was so distracted he didn’t notice the two teachers until he nearly stumbled into them.

 “-can’t keep doing this to yourself,” someone was saying.

Shouta froze just before turning the corner. He caught a glimpse of the cockatiel teacher from the first day, though he was looking significantly more run-down. His hair wasn’t perfectly styled anymore, and deep lines were etched in his face. He was facing another teacher, a woman with bright red glasses and a skintight costume.

“I’m fine, Midnight. Just tired,” he said.

“Come back to my place after classes. You need a break, and it’s not good for you to be alone right now,” Midnight said.

Blondie shook his head. “I’m hitting eastside again after classes. Tsukauchi has a couple more names he thinks might help.”

“It can wait a couple hours, or I can call in another Pro to handle it.”

 Privately, Shouta agreed with Midnight. Blondie looked like he belonged in bed, not prowling the streets for criminals. Midnight sighed and reached towards the other hero, but he pushed her away. 

“I’m not going to sit around while Eraser’s still missing! If there’s any chance I can help, I have to try.”

Midnight hesitated with her hand still outstretched. She was looking rather run-down too, though significantly better than the blond. “He’d hate seeing you like this,” she said.

“Then he should be here to stop me!”

The Hero’s voice cracked, and he turned away.  This time, he accepted the comforting hand on his shoulder. He leaned into Midnight as he struggled to regain control over himself. Quietly, Shouta moved backwards until they were out of sight. Guilt churned in his stomach. He should’ve left as soon as he heard them talking. Shouta ate his lunch alone on the rooftop and tried to forget what he’d heard.

…

Shouta wandered after lunch. Pacing around campus wasn’t doing much of anything, but at least it helped him work off nervous energy.

“Oi, Dead Eyes!”

Shouta groaned and walked faster. Spikey blonde—Bakugo—followed.

“I’m talking to you, asshole! Pay attention!”

Bakugo planted himself in Shouta’s path. Shouta stopped. He was tempted to turn right back around, but he wasn’t in the mood to run away.

“There’s nobody to get in our way this time, so c’mon. Fight me. Or are you a fucking coward?”

“I’m not in the mood to deal with you today,” Shouta said.

Bakugo’s hands crackled with small explosions. “Deal with me?” he repeated. “You think you can just fucking deal with me, like I’m some weakling? I’ll rip you to fucking shreds, asshole!”

Shouta eyed Bakugo and the empty paths behind him. He considered what patience he had left to deescalate the situation and found it lacking.

Fuck it, he thought. Pulling his hands out of his pockets, Shouta pulled his lips into what Hizashi had affectionately called his child-eating smile.

“Just try it,” he said.

With an enraged shout, Bakugo charged. Fire leapt off his arms, propelling him forward faster than Shouta expected. He barely blocked in time, and from there the fight began in earnest.

Shouta expected an easy fight. He’d seen Bakugo’s skill during training, but he was intimately familiar with the blonde’s temper. People who couldn’t control themselves tended to be easily tricked. Except Bakugo didn’t let his fury blind him. His attacks were controlled. Even his explosions, Shouta was surprised to note, were modulated to avoid causing serious damage.

Shouta ducked under an explosion enhanced punch and knocked Bakugo’s legs out from under him, but Bakugo used his Quirk to right himself again.

“Come on you fucking coward! Show me your Quirk! Don’t you dare act like you can take me without it.”

A blast of fire barreled towards him as Shouta dodged out of the way and into Bakugo’s fist. It was only a glancing blow, but it left Shouta’s chest stinging.

If he used Erasure, he could win. Most people panicked the first time. Their forms fell apart, and some forgot about the fight altogether. Shouta was very, very good at taking advantage of that surprise.

But Erasure was too distinctive of a Quirk. Shouta wasn’t impulsive like Bakugo. He wouldn’t let himself lose control over something inconsequential.

He managed to get past Bakugo’s guard and land a few good hits. Bakugo slid backwards, but he kept his balance. He retaliated quickly, and Shouta found himself being driven back. Bakugo was relentless, and his Quirk sped his attacks until Shouta could barely keep up. It only took one mistake—a block a moment too slow, a kick he couldn’t dodge—and Shouta lost his balance. Bakugo pinned him to the ground with an arm across his chest, and Bakugo’s furious expression was inches from Shouta’s face.

“The fuck is wrong with you? Are you an idiot? Are you Quirkless?”

 Shouta’s legs were still free, so he kicked upwards, forcing Bakugo away. He twisted, trying to pin the other teen in return, but Bakugo was too fast. They both regained their feet and glared at each other, panting.

 “Oh, shit,” somebody said behind him.

Shouta didn’t take his eyes off Bakugo. The blonde’s hands were sparking again, and he charged. Someone barreled forward from behind Shouta and tackled Bakugo to the ground. He held on, ignoring the ensuing explosions and flood of cursing.

In the struggle, Shouta glimpsed red hair and rock-hard skin. Kirishima. Shouta straightened out of his fighting stance. He jumped when somebody touched his shoulder. Pink skin and black eyes. Ashido.

“I’m so sorry!” she said. “Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?”

He wasn’t. Not enough for it to matter, anyway. If anything, Shouta felt worse than before he’d run into Bakugo. He was exhausted, bruised, and shaking from the lingering adrenaline. He hadn’t fixed anything, and he couldn’t even pretend the spar had been satisfying.

Without saying a word, Shouta turned around and started walking back down the path. Bakugo’s furious shouts followed him.

“Yamada? Please say something.”

He barely registered Ashido calling his name, except it wasn’t his name. It wasn’t, and he was so sick of pretending to be someone else. Of feeling like a stranger in his own school and skin. A hand touched his shoulder, and Shouta reacted before he could think. With a furious, strangled sound, he grabbed the offending arm and pulled, throwing Ashido to the ground.

Ashido hit hard and stayed down, struggling for breath. Her eyes were wide, and Shouta felt his anger drain away. Stupid. It was illogical to take his anger out on someone who didn’t deserve it.

“Are you alright?” Ashido asked.

“I think that’s my line,” Shouta said, followed by, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

He reached a hand down to help her stand, and Ashido took it with a bright smile.

“No harm done! I’m training to be a Hero, remember? You’d have to hit me a lot harder to keep me down.”

Shouta tried to smile. Judging by Ashido’s wince, he didn’t succeed.

“Seriously, though, is something wrong? Besides Bakugo attacking you, anyway. I’m so sorry he’s like that. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

Shouta started walking again. Ashido kept pace with him, and Shouta didn’t have the energy to be annoyed about it.

“It’s not that kind of problem,” he said. Even if he was inclined to explain what was really happening, he doubted another student could help. Most likely she’d head right to the teachers, and Shouta wasn’t willing to take that step.

“Would you like some company?”

Shouta shrugged. “Do what you want,” he said.

Apparently, what Ashido wanted was to follow him. The silence lasted a few minutes before Ashido started chattering. Quietly at first, and louder when Shouta didn’t tell her to stop. Shouta let the words wash over him without listening. He was almost surprised to find himself back at the main building. From there, he made his way to the rooftop.

Shouta sat on the edge of the roof, letting his legs dangle over the side. A moment later, Ashido joined him. She’d stopped talking sometime during the walk up, and Shouta could feel her sneaking glances at him.

“Do you come up here often?” she asked

Shouta shrugged. This had been one of his favorite spots since he’d arrived at UA. Few people bothered to make the climb, and it overlooked most of the central campus. Hizashi joined him occasionally, but normally it was just him.

“It’s quiet,” he said.

Ashido shifted. “Do you want me to go?” she asked.

“I don’t care.”

She stayed. Eventually, she took some papers out of her bag and started working on an assignment. She was a loud worker. She groaned and mumbled to herself and shifted around as if a new angle would help her see the answer. Inevitably, Shouta noticed she was working on some physics problem. Half of the words were scribbled out, and her diagrams were a mess.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Shouta said.

Ashido jumped. Her pencil left a thick line across the paper.

“You know how to do this?”

Shouta nodded.

“Oh thank God,” Ashido said and shoved her worksheet towards him. “I have no idea what’s going on. Please help.”

Shouta looked down at the worksheet and back at Ashido. He inched the paper back towards her. “I won’t do it for you,” he warned.

“But you’ll help?”

Shouta shrugged and looked down at the sheet again. He pointed at one of the earlier lines.

“You used the wrong formula. That’s for linear motion, not rotational.”

Ashido thanked him profusely and scribbled out her old answers. She got stuck again a minute later, and Shouta helped her work through the mistake. It was stupid, but something in Shouta’s chest relaxed. He couldn’t figure anything out or find anyone familiar, but he could make Ashido’s life a little easier. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

…

Shouta didn’t bother trying to sleep that night. His head pounded and eyes itched with exhaustion, but he knew sleep wouldn’t come. So he paced.  He wandered up and down the halls and the campus grounds, going wherever his feet lead him. He passed the place where Bakugo had confronted him, now significantly more scorched, and the training grounds where the Heroes course sparred. At one point, Shouta noticed Shinsou making his own, tired circuit of campus. Shouta stayed hidden and waited for him to pass. He had enough problems of his own to worry about without adding whatever was keeping Shinsou from his bed.

The hours drifted by with a dream-like quality, driven by the late hour and his exhaustion. Eventually, Shouta found himself in front of the new dorms. He stared up at the tall walls and the bold letters marking the building for class 2-A. Shouta trailed his hand against the siding. It was cool to the touch and rough against his fingertips.

It was probably the sleep deprivation talking, but Shouta had the sudden urge to climb it. Their class had been practicing urban environments recently, and Shouta was working on improving his speed. Scaling this building looked doable, but it would be a challenge.

Discounting the time with Ashido, Shouta had barely trained in the past week. Nobody was awake to watch him, and he had nothing better to do with his time. Shouta tested his grip on the wall and eyed the various handholds. Then he started to climb.

He was out of breath by the time he reached the top. The building was deceptively tall and the handholds just as shallow as he’d expected. It was a relief when his outstretched hand met the edge of the roof. He hauled himself over the edge, grinning in triumph. Then he looked up.

A single red eye stared down at him.

Shouta burst into motion, pushing past his surprise and the ache in his muscle. While Shouta focused on the figure in front of him, something barreled into him from the side.  His arms were pinned to his side, and it didn’t budge as Shouta pulled against it. It was black and amorphous, like shadow turned solid. A Quirk.

Shouta glared at the person in front of him, but he didn’t activate Erasure. Not yet. Feathers covered his attacker’s head, and the shadow extended from his back. Shouta recognized him from 2-A’s training sessions. Tokoyami? He must’ve been getting some air and noticed Shouta on the wall.

Stupid. It didn’t matter that the lights were off; he’d climbed a building full of Heroes students. If he was so desperate to test himself, he should have gone to the training grounds.

“Who are you and what is your purpose here?” Tokoyami said.

“I’m Yamada. A Gen Ed student,” Shouta lied.

Something like recognition flashed across Tokoyami’s face. The grip around Shouta’s chest loosened enough for him to breathe again, though he was still firmly trapped.

“The General Education dorms are several buildings over.”

Shouta felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment. He struggled to find words to explain what he had—or hadn’t—been thinking and winced as the grip around his chest tightened.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk. Climbing the building was an impulsive decision.”

Tokoyami’s expression was unreadable, but his hold loosened again.

“It’s unwise to test UA’s security, especially after last year’s attacks.”

Attacks? He vaguely remembered Ashido mentioning something about the USJ, but he hadn’t realized there were more. Shouta filed the information under the long, long list of ways his memories didn’t match with this place.

“I’m aware,” he said instead, though he was nothing of the sort.

“Yet you decided to scale the side of our dorm in the night like a common intruder.”

“In hindsight, it was a poorly thought out decision.”

Even without knowing about the attacks, he should have known better than to scale someone’s home, especially the Heroes students’. If he’d been sleeping more than a few shallow hours a night, he’d have realized it as soon as the impulse crossed his mind.

The shadow pinning him in place released him and returned to Tokoyami’s side.  

“Next time, if you wish to visit, I would advise you to do it in the daylight hours. And to knock.”

“Noted.”

Shouta turned around, intending to climb down the way he’d came and to, ideally, never see the other teen again and forget the entire disaster ever happened. Tokoyami stopped him.

“After all the effort you invested in reaching this space, I won’t force you to descend immediately.”

Shouta paused with one leg swung over the edge. “Are you asking me to stay?”

“If you wish.”

Shouta was torn. On one hand, he’d prefer to forget this entire encounter as quickly as possible. On the other, he had nowhere else to go, no hope of sleeping, and he didn’t particularly want to be alone with his thoughts.

He balanced on the edge of the roof, where he could be over the edge and gone in a moment. Tokoyami stayed on his side and proceeded to ignore Shouta in favor of gazing up at the night sky. He could have sworn the shadow was looking at him a couple times, but it was hard to tell.

Eventually, Shouta started to relax. He abandoned his perch at the edge for a spot where he was less likely to fall off. Tokoyami was surprisingly good company. He wasn’t afraid of silence, and he didn’t try to ask Shouta questions or fill the silence with awkward conversation. He was just there, enjoying the night in his own way.

Eventually his eyes drifted closed. He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep. Just that he woke up feeling more well-rested than he had in days. The moon was still out, so he couldn’t have been asleep for more than a couple hours. Tokoyami was gone, but his cloak had been laid across Shouta’s chest. Shouta folded it and left it on the edge of the roof. Then he climbed down and walked away.

…

AN: I've officially finished my first year of medical school! I'm so excited. Anyway, I'll be hiking for the next week and a half, so the next chapter should be up the following Monday or Tuesday. 

Chapter Text

Day 4: Thursday

Thursday was better. Nothing had changed, but Shouta’s emotions weren’t overwhelming anymore. He felt like he could think again. So long as he could reason, he could handle what was happening.

Plus, he ran across a cat on his early morning walk. It was hard to stay upset about anything when there was a cat in front of you, asking to be pet. It was a striking, almost regal cat too: white with scattered patches of deep black. Shouta didn’t have much to entertain it, but he let it chase his fingers as he scratched at its ears. Before long, Shouta found himself smiling.

 “I see you’ve met Prowl,” somebody said.

Shouta looked up to see the tired purple teen from before, Shinsou, looking at him. He had another Heroes student with him: a girl with long hair and wideset features. The frog girl from the spars.

“Is she yours?” Shouta asked, petting between the cat’s ears.

“In a way. She’s a stray we found a few months back, and our class took her in. The bell was Midoriya’s idea.”

There was indeed a little bell attached to the bright yellow collar. The girl took a step closer and held out her hand.

“I’m Tsuyu. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

Shouta reluctantly stopped petting the cat and stood. Prowl rubbed against his legs one last time before wandering over to Shinsou, who immediately picked her up. Apparently Prowl enjoyed being held, because she remained remarkably docile in Shinsou’s arms.

“Class is starting in a few minutes. Are you coming?”

Shouta didn’t have a good excuse prepared, so he nodded and fell into step beside them.

“You look tired,” Tsuyu said.

Shouta shrugged. “I’m always tired.”

Insomnia wasn’t new to him. It was just worse this week, for obvious reasons.

They reached the 2-A classroom first. It was still early, so there weren’t many students inside. Nobody from the lunch group was there yet, which didn’t surprise him. Kirishima and Ashido both seemed like the kind of student who’d run in just before the bell.

Shinsou turned to him, and Shouta found himself with an armful of cat. Prowl stared up at him, nonplussed by the change in position, and batted at his hair.

“Technically she’s not allowed in class, but most teachers won’t say anything if you sneak her in. Pay attention to her occasionally and she’ll be happy.”

Shouta nodded, still marveling at how calm Prowl was. He absentmindedly waved at Shinsou and Tsuyu as they left and wandered towards his usual waiting spot. He had no intention of going to class, of course, but he was sure Prowl would be good company nonetheless.

…

Eventually, Prowl stood up, stretched luxuriously, and wandered away. Even a patient cat needed a change of scenery after a few hours. Shouta watched her go with a small pang of regret. Prowl had been a good companion while it’d lasted.

Maybe later he’d stop by the 2-A dorms to see her. If he asked, he was sure that Kirishima or Ashido would let him in. Probably Shinsou too. Getting to pet a cat would be worth the embarrassment of seeing Tokoyami again. Probably.

Shouta fell asleep on the roof, tucked in a small nook between the staircase door and an outer wall. It was almost invisible from the outside and barely wide enough for him to fit, and Shouta felt secure enough to catch a couple hours of sleep.

He woke to the sound of voices. It jolted him awake and he froze, glancing around. He couldn’t see anyone, and the quiet voices continued uninterrupted. He hadn’t been found.

Shouta shifted so he could peak out of the opening. He recognized the two teachers sitting on the edge of the roof: the tall, sickly man from 2-A’s combat training and the cockatiel man with the ridiculous hair. He didn’t look any better than yesterday.

“It’s been four days now, Toshinori. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

The sickly man, Toshinori, laid a hand on the others’ shoulder. He seemed to break under the weight until his head pressed against his clasped hands.

“Eraserhead’s strong. He’ll find a way,” Toshinori said.

The other man laughed, if you could call the painful sound a laugh.

“He’s not invincible. He’d have fought his way back if he could. There hasn’t even been a ransom.”

“Don’t give up hope,” Toshinori said, but the other Hero continued like he hadn’t heard.

“All I can think is that somebody finally got him, and any day now we’ll find a body. Or they have him hidden away somewhere, and they’re using other ways to get information out of him.”

His breathing was starting to catch, and Shouta could see him shaking from here. Shouta looked away. He shouldn’t be here. This was a raw grief, and Shouta felt the invasion of privacy acutely.

Shouta crept the few steps to the stairway and carefully set his hand on the doorknob. Toshinori was speaking quietly behind him, and Shouta tried not to listen. He inched the door open. The hinges squeaked.

Immediately, he heard movement behind him. Shouta froze, face flushing and shoulders hunched up in embarrassment. Shit.

“Sorry,” Shouta said. “I was just-”

Shouta stole a glance backwards. Both teachers were standing and staring at him. Toshinori was straightening out of a fighting stance. Surprisingly, the other teacher stepped forward first.

“Afternoon classes are still in session. What are you doing all the way up here, young listener?”

Shit. Questions. The teacher sounded honestly concerned too, like he actually cared about a student avoiding class when his… Friend? Lover? was missing and possibly dead. He was a good actor too. His eyes were red and smile strained, but Shouta never would have guessed he’d been practically breaking down a few moments before.

“I must’ve fallen asleep over lunch.”

The teacher frowned. “You were up here alone? Is everything alright?” He leaned towards Shouta, squinting. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. What’s your name?”

“I’m a transfer,” Shouta mumbled and ducked through the doorway.

As soon as he was out of sight, Shouta started to run. The last thing he needed was a teacher insisting they accompany him to class. Being at UA hadn’t been particularly helpful—yet—in figuring out what was going on, but he wasn’t ready to leave. Especially not if it meant attracting the attention of Pro Heroes.

…

Miraculously, Shouta fell asleep at a reasonable time that night. He didn’t stay asleep, of course, but it was progress. One step at a time, and maybe someday he’d have a regular sleeping schedule.

Well. He could dream.

Shouta lingered in the yellow sleeping bag a while longer, comfortable and hoping that, if he waited just a little longer, he’d fall asleep again. His wishful thinking didn’t work out, and Shouta eventually gave up. He packed the sleeping bag back into its closet. He still wasn’t sure who the bag belonged to, but nobody beside him had touched it all week. He was starting to think it’d been abandoned.

Exhausted and wide awake, Shouta started his usual circuits of campus. This time, he didn’t notice Shinsou early enough to avoid the other teen. Shinsou caught his gaze and fell into step beside him.

“You’re not sleeping,” Shinsou said.

Shouta shrugged. “Neither are you.”

This was the second night Shouta had seen the other teen walking around campus in the early hours. Judging by the bags under his eyes, it wasn’t a new occurrence either. Though he was looking worse than the first time they’d seen each other.

Shinsou stared at him, and the silence stretched expectantly onward. Eventually, Shouta gave in.

“New place,” he said. “Not that I’ve ever been a good sleeper.”

Not having a real bed or his own room didn’t help either, not that he could say that to Shinsou. The stress made everything worse. Shouta met Shinsou’s gaze and tilted his head, as if daring him to answer too.

“Insomnia,” Shinsou said. His eyes slid towards Shouta, as if assessing him, and he continued a moment later. “It’s been worse since Eraserhead disappeared.”

Eraserhead again. He’d been Shinsou’s mentor, if Shouta remembered correctly. No wonder Shinsou was sleeping poorly.

Eventually, they meandered towards a bench, and Shinsou gestured towards it like a question. Shouta shrugged and joined him. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the bench. Eventually, he felt Shinsou’s eyes watching him.

“Do you want to join the Heroes course?” Shinsou asked

It would be easy to lie. He could say he learned martial arts because he enjoyed it. That he was watching the Heroes training because he wanted to see them in person. Yet, Shouta hesitated around the lie.

Maybe it was the late night and the strange peace that spread over campus in the quiet hours. Or maybe it was just Shinsou: another Gen Ed student who’d fought his way into the Heroes course. Someone with a Quirk that frightened others. Who was kind and liked cats and took walks at night when worry for his mentor kept him awake.

“Yes,” Shouta said. “I want to be a Hero.”

He would too. Even if his memories were fake and his time at UA a lie. Even if he was stuck here. He’d fought his way onto the path to a Heroes license once before. He’d do it again if he had to, with or without UA.

“That’s what I thought,” Shinsou said. He was smiling. It was a small, tired smile, but it softened his face. “2-A’s a good class, and you’ve already made connections. You just need to ask, and you’ll find people to help you.”

Shouta wondered if that declaration would last after 2-A found out he’d been lying about being a Gen Ed student. They didn’t even know his real name. They would find out too. It hadn’t even been a week, and Shouta could feel his luck wearing thin. He’d already been caught outside of class twice, and he’d been lucky they hadn’t pressed the issue.

He needed to figure out what was happening and why his memories were all wrong. He needed to find out who Shouta Aizawa really was. If he existed at all. Drifting around campus and talking to students wasn’t helping.

Shinsou was looking tired again. His eyes had started drifting closed, and his posture was slipping.

“We should head back to the dorms,” Shouta said.

Shinsou nodded and stood. They meandered back to the dorms with a comfortable silence between them. Shouta carefully kept the 2-A dorms between them and the Gen Ed ones. When they arrived, Shinsou nodded at him.

“I’ll see you around,” he said.

He took out his ID card and waved it haphazardly at the sensors before sticking it into his back pocket. He looked half asleep on his feet, and there was a couple seconds delay before the doors opened for him.

Shouta had always had quick fingers. Shinsou didn’t flinch when Shouta lifted his ID out of his pocket. The doors opened, Shinsou walked into the dorm, and Shouta pocketed the ID as he walked away. He followed the path towards the Gen Ed dorms, in case Shinsou happened to glance out a window, and split off towards the main building once he was out of sight.

A few other students were wandering around, which was more than Shouta had expected. Campus often cleared out after dark especially as the night ticked over into obscenely early morning. Maybe there was a test or project. The students looked stressed enough for it.

Shouta successfully avoided notice as he slipped into the building and down the hallway to the library. He was outside the door with his hand on the knob when he heard voices coming from inside. Somebody was using the library. Multiple somebodies, from the sound of it.

Shouta stole a glance through the window to see several students sprawled on the chairs and firmly entrenched at the computers. It looked like they were working on a group project.

Shouta cursed. He wasn’t stupid enough to use a stolen ID where other people could see. He couldn’t walk inside and invite their questions or linger in the hallway, looking suspicious as hell.

Later, Shouta decided. He’d come back later. He had some time before Shinsou discovered his ID was missing and more before it was inactivated. He needed to do this right, not fast.

…

 “Later” took a long time coming. Shouta checked back a few times over the next couple hours. The group dwindled, but there were two holdouts on his last check. Then Shouta fell asleep, curled on a couch.

Shouta woke up as the sun was rising, a couple hours before classes started. Yawning, he shuffled toward the library. The hallways were empty and so, thankfully, was the library. It was too early for all but the most enthusiastic students and some teachers. Shouta slid into the computer seat and pulled out Shinsou’s ID. The computer accepted it. A moment later, the welcome screen flashed on.

Shouta hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until the air left him all at once. It worked. He had access. He waited impatiently for the computer to finish booting up and the internet to connect. There were dozens of things Shouta wanted to research. Questions that had built up over the week, starting with his absent apartment. First, though, Shouta pulled up the UA student directory.

UA kept careful records of all the students that passed through its doors. Many went on to become Pro Heroes or leaders, and the occasional dropout turned to villainy. It was logical to keep track of them all. Shouta’s hand hesitated above the keyboard. He forced himself to start typing, one character at a time.

Yamada, Hizashi.

He hadn’t heard a whisper about Hizashi since waking up. There’d been no sign of his friend. Nothing besides Shouta’s memories, which had already proven suspect. Shouta could handle starting over. He could handle his memories of UA being fabricated. He wasn’t sure he’d survive learning that Hizashi had never existed.

With a deep breath, Shouta hit enter. The search loaded.

Hizashi’s face looked back at him. He was smiling and throwing some ridiculous pose at the camera.

Shouta’s breath caught. His eyes burned, and he rubbed at them furiously. Hizashi was alive. He’d attended UA. Shouta had hoped, but he hadn’t expected anything. It was only a picture, but this was the first familiar face he’d seen in almost a week.

Shouta didn’t bother reading any of the information below Hizashi’s picture. He’d have time for that later. Instead, he opened a new search and typed in his own name. As he pressed enter, he was already composing reassurances in his mind about how he could still be a Hero without UA.

Except, his face was there. Shouta froze, more surprised than if the search had come up negative. If he really was a student, then why hadn’t anyone recognized him? What was going on? The longer he stared at his picture, the more something seemed slightly off about the face looking back at him. Something in the angle of his chin? His hair?

Before he could figure it out, Shouta heard the doorknob rattle. His heart leapt into his throat, and Shouta fumbled for the mouse as he closed out the tab and yanked Shinsou’s ID free. He was out of the chair and facing the door when it creaked open. Leather jacket and a ridiculous, swooping hairstyle. It was the cockatiel teacher again.

Shouta kept his head town and expression blank. He was just a normal student, doing normal student things. There was no reason to be suspicious. The teacher paused in front of the doorway. Shouta walked towards him, hoping to avoid a confrontation. Or any conversation. Of course, the teacher opened his mouth almost immediately.

“Hey, you’re that transfer student. Gen Ed, right? I’m Present Mic; it’s good to finally get a proper introduction!”

Shouta grunted and tried to walk past him. Present Mic shifted, blocking his way, and Shouta tensed.

“Interesting thing ‘bout that. Wanna hear?”

Shouta glared up at Present Mic. He didn’t think he was getting much of a choice, and he was right. There was a sharpness to Present Mic’s grin as he continued.

“I was asking around, and we haven’t had any transfers, ‘specially not into General Education. Funny thing, don’t you think?”

Shouta froze. Shit. He hadn’t spared a thought for his cover story since coming up with it. It wasn’t like the Heroes students talked to Gen Ed. He should have thought about the teachers. Stupid mistake.

“Not only that, but you arrived the same day that Eraserhead disappeared, while the school was distracted enough for you to slip through the cracks. That’s an awful big coincidence.”

Shouta could barely hear him over the panic filling his ears. They thought he had something to do with the missing teacher. Fuck, this was worse than he thought. Present Mic shifted, and Shouta jumped back, out of reach.

Present Mic was thoroughly blocking the doorway now. He was a professional Hero; Shouta wouldn’t be able to force his way past him without one hell of a distraction. Still. Shouta had made it into the Hero’s course for a reason. He’d been training for years. He might not be a match for a real Pro, but he only needed an opening. One mistake, and Shouta could be out that door.

A stack of folders sat on a nearby desk. Shouta flung them at Present Mic. The papers spilled out, arching through the air between them. Present Mic batted the folder away, and Shouta lunged forward. He’d hoped to catch Present Mic off guard, but the Hero recovered too quickly. He met Shouta’s attack with a steady stance, and he didn’t move an inch from the doorway.

Present Mic wasn’t a close combat specialist. He was good—as good as Shouta, maybe better—but he moved in a way that spoke of repetition and training, not experience. Shouta tested him a few times, but he couldn’t get past his guard or lure him away from the doorway. Present Mic didn’t try to restrain him either.

He was stalling. Probably waiting for backup. Shouta needed to leave now.

Shouta hooked his leg around a nearby chair and, in one smooth movement, lifted it and threw it at Present Mic. The Hero yelped and dodged, but the chair clipped his shoulder. Present Mic stumbled.

Shouta shot forwards towards the opening. He was almost fast enough. Just before reaching the hallway, a hand grabbed the back of his uniform and yanked Shouta back. Shouta landed on his feet, but Present Mic was already blocking the door again, clutching his shoulder.

 “ENOUGH!” he shouted.

The noise hit Shouta like a blow. Pain lanced through his head, and Shouta stumbled back, struggling to stay on his feet. Present Mic had a voice quirk, like a stronger version of Hizashi’s. Shouta’s head was still ringing, and he could feel a wicked headache bloom behind his eyes. Present Mic didn’t seem pleased by his advantage. More than anything, he seemed tired.

“C’mon, kid. Give it up already. Just come with me, and we’ll figure all this out. Whatever you’re involved in, we can help.”

Maybe it was the resemblance to Hizashi, but part of Shouta wished he could accept his offer. He was so tired. The lack of sleep was catching up to him, and he was no closer to figuring out what was happening than he’d been when he first walked through UA’s gates.

But Shouta had never been one to give up. And he would never entrust his future to some stranger and his pretty words.

His determination must have shown in his stance because Present Mic sighed and took his hands out of his pocket.

“The hard way it is then,” Present Mic muttered.

Shouta leapt forward. Present Mic took another deep breath, preparing his Quirk, but this time Shouta was ready. He activated Erasure. Present Mic’s breath left him in a strangled squawk, and his hand rose to his throat. Stunned green eyes met Shouta’s the moment before Shouta dove past him. He was at the door before he heard Present Mic say his name, his real name.

“Shouta?”

Shouta didn’t stop running. He slid into the first turn and was out of sight before he heard footsteps behind him. Present Mic was still calling his name, but Shouta didn’t stop. He kept running until the sound of his pursuer faded behind him, and he was finally safe again.

…

AN: Next chapter will be a short interlude, and it’ll be up in a couple days :). I'd say I'm sorry for the cliffhanger, but I've been looking forward to posting these scenes so much.

Also, if anyone's curious about what tiny Shouta looks like, I was heavily influenced by this one fantastic blog, https://ask-eraserhead.tumblr.com. It has some great comics/artwork, including one of a teenage Aizawa. In this fic, I imagine Shouta is 160 cm, or almost 5'3'', and much slimmer than his adult self, because I think that's adorable.

Chapter Text

“Shouta? Shouta!”

Nothing stirred in the hallways, and Hizashi was left running after shadows. That was- He really- Hizashi didn’t know how to deal with this, except that Shouta had been here, right in front of him, and with every second he was getting further and further away. With trembling fingers, Hizashi pulled out his phone and hit the button for Nemuri. She picked up on the second ring.

“Hizashi? Did you-”

Hizashi cut her off. “Come to the main library. Now.”

He could hear her moving in the background. Good. She’d be in the teachers’ lounge, preparing for class; she could be here in a few minutes. Except, fuck, that would already be too late. Shouta had always been the best at sneaking around, and he knew UA better at fifteen than Hizashi ever had.

“You found something,” Nemuri said.

“We were wrong. Fuck, we were so wrong. He didn’t get captured. Something’s wrong with him though, really wrong, and I didn’t- I couldn’t-”

He hadn’t even recognized Shouta, not until his Quirk had made it impossible not to. Shouta had looked at him like a stranger. No, worse—like a threat. And he’d been right; Hizashi had attacked him. His mind was running in circles, and it took Nemuri shouting his name to snap him out of it.

“I’m messaging the other teachers; everyone who’s free will meet us. Now calm down and start from the beginning.”

Hizashi forced himself to take a deep breath, but it didn’t help. Panic surged under his skin, and all he could think about was how terrified Shouta had looked when he’d been cornered.

“He’s here, Nemuri.”

He heard her gasp. “Shouta?”

Hizashi turned a corner, praying it was the right one. They were heading towards the courtyard. It had been one of Shouta’s favorite spots, a place that made him feel safe. Hopefully that old habit had won out. Hopefully.

“He must have been hit with some… some de-aging or memory quirk or something. He looks like a kid again, and he didn’t-” Hizashi swallowed hard. “He didn’t recognize me at all, Nemuri.”

Silence from the other end of the line. Then, “Are you sure it was him?”

“His eyes turned red, and he erased my Quirk. Yes, I’m sure that was him.”

He was about to say that he was damn sure he could recognize his own husband, but apparently he hadn’t. Not for a week. Shouta had been right under their noses, and Hizashi hadn’t noticed a thing.

His breath caught, and Hizashi felt wetness drip down his cheek.

“Nemuri, he’s alive,” Hizashi whispered. “He’s not even hurt, not like I-”

He couldn’t finish the sentence. Shouta wasn’t being tortured. He wasn’t dead. For four days, Hizashi had seen Shouta’s broken body every time he closed his eyes, and he’d been wrong.

“We’ll bring him home,” Nemuri said, and Hizashi believed her.

Chapter Text

Shouta fled.

He ran until he was out of the building and deep in the forest blanketing campus, far away from any paths or security cameras. He kept going until he was sure nobody had followed him, and then he went deeper still.

Part of Shouta desperately wanted to go back. The teacher had known his name. Nobody else had recognized Shouta since everything changed. Surely Present Mic knew something about Shouta’s past and the faulty pieces of his memory. He was a Professional Hero too; he was supposed to be trustworthy.

Except, he’d called Shouta a villain. He thought Shouta had something to do with Eraserhead’s disappearance, and by now the news would have spread across the school. He doubted anyone would believe him about his memories and lack of connection—that he remembered, anyway—to any criminal group. Shouta didn’t like those odds.

Shouta found a densely packed tree and made himself a perch in its branches. He was too wired to rest, but he forced himself to stay still. Right now, UA would be mobilizing its teachers for a search. Shouta really didn’t want to run into another Pro Hero, especially now that they knew about his Quirk.

He stayed there for hours, barely moving. Midday came and went, and Shouta ignored his hunger until it faded. Later. It would be safer to move once it started getting dark. He just needed to wait until then.

Twice he heard somebody moving nearby. The first time was distant, little more than a rustle of foliage. The second was in the late afternoon, when two students passed underneath him. Shouta recognized Jirou and Kaminari. Jirou was holding her phone, texting furiously, and Kaminari held a map with an expression of vague confusion.

Shouta barely dared breathe as they passed underneath him. They walked past his tree and kept going, soon disappearing back into the brush. Eventually, the sun grew low in the sky. Shouta hadn’t seen anyone in hours. Surely they hadn’t given up the search, but it would be winding down. The teachers would be getting tired and careless, and the students would return to their dorms.

Shouta had tried to keep his muscles from cramping, but hiding in a tree for hours hadn’t done him any favors. His joints were stiff and aching as he climbed down, and he wasted a few minutes stretching until he could walk without a limp.

Since the first day, Shouta had been stockpiling small caches of food around campus. Nothing special: mostly granola bars and jelly packets, things that would last a while. Part of it was habit, left over from when he was a kid, but mostly it was preparation for something going wrong. Like it had.

Shouta crept along the forest floor, vigilant for any sound or movement. He startled some wildlife but didn’t see anyone. UA’s campus was ridiculously large, part school and part wildlife sanctuary, and his closest stash was several minutes’ walk away.

He found the carefully wrapped, waterproof bundle that he’d tucked into one of the bushes. The outer covering was dirty and scratched but intact. He checked for signs that animals or insects had gotten in, but it looked undamaged.

Shouta’s stomach abruptly reminded him that he hadn’t eaten all day. He tore into the first couple granola bars until the hunger was less intense. With a jelly packet in one hand and the rest of the pack in the other, Shouta picked a new direction and started walking.

Eventually, he found another promising tree. It was an old cypress with branches that swept the ground, and Shouta finished his meal hidden underneath. A few birds came to investigate, staring at the granola bar in his hands. Shouta stared back. Eventually, when they didn’t startle, he tossed some crumbs at them. Shouta continued like that, eating and tossing the birds crumbs, until he was full. Then he climbed upwards until he found a stable, well covered place to sit. One branch dug awkwardly into his back, but it was comfortable enough. He settled in to wait.

…

Shouta must have fallen asleep, because he woke to someone calling his name. It took him a moment to remember why that was a bad thing.

Adrenaline jolted him awake. He was still in the tree, surrounded by leaves and branches. Something was moving on the ground below him, and Shouta looked down to see Kirishima’s upturned face staring back at him.

“Prof- ah, Aizawa? That’s you, right? Your real name?”

Shouta didn’t answer. Kirishima was squinting up at him, searching his face like he expected to find something there. The ambient light was dim, though there was enough to make out Kirishima’s expression. Tsuyu stood behind him, content to let Kirishima take the lead.

“Man, it’s really you. I wasn’t sure I believed it, but I can see the resemblance. Though, you’re a lot smaller—like, a lot—plus your hair, and it’s not like anyone was expecting something like this, you know?”

“Is there a point to this?”

Kirishima grinned up at him and rubbed at his neck in a motion that had become familiar to Aizawa over the last few days. He looked almost harmless, and it was a struggle for Shouta to think of him as a threat.

“Present Mic told us about what’s going on. Your memory’s all wonky, right? That’s why you don’t remember us?”

Shouta’s breath caught. They knew. Shouta didn’t know how they’d figured out his head was messed up. He shifted his weight so his feet were under him, muscles tense.

“Get to the point.”

“Just come down, alright? We’ll get Present Mic and the other teachers, and we’ll figure out what’s going on. We’re all heroes, right? We just want to help!”

He was as earnest as always. Shouta was sure Kirishima believed it too. He remembered what Present Mic said though. It didn’t matter that they’d figured out his name or that they promised to help. Their patience would run out when they realized Shouta couldn’t tell them anything, not about himself or anyone else.

Shouta didn’t give them a warning. He burst into motion, leaping out of the tree and sprinting deeper into the forest. Kirishima shouted behind him. Shouta only made it a couple steps before he felt something flexible and deceptively strong wrap around his waist. He was flung backwards, and only quick reflexes and acrobatics let him avoid crashing to the ground.

He flipped to his feet in time to meet Kirishima’s charge. Dodging Kirishima’s punch, Shouta retaliated with a fist at Kirishima’s chest. His hand met hardened skin. Pain lit up his hand, and Shouta cursed. He twisted away, trying to get some distance again, but Kirishima’s arms closed around him like a steel trap, pinning his back against Kirishima’s chest.

“We don’t want to fight, kero,” Tsuyu said.

“So let me go.”

Shouta pulled against Kirishima, but there was no give to his arm.

“Sorry, no can do,” Kirishima said. “I promise this is for your own good!”

Shouta hated people making decisions for him, almost as much as he hated being cornered. He turned his head and activated his Quirk. Immediately, Kirishima’s arms lost their strength, and his grip weakened in surprise. Shouta dropped his weight and twisted free, using his momentum to kick Kirishima’s legs out from under him. Kirishima fell to the ground with a yelp, and Shouta sprinted towards Tsuyu.

Tsuyu was a distance fighter through and through. He’d noticed it during their training session, and he saw it again in the way Tsuyu flinched away from his charge. To her credit, she recovered and attacked first, flinging her tongue at him. Shouta ducked underneath, blocked as the limb redirected towards him, and grabbed hold. He threw Tsuyu at Kirishima, who was just regaining his balance. They collided and collapsed in a tangled heap of limbs.

Shouta ran.

He could hear them yelling and crashing through the forest behind him. Shouta had a good head start, and the light was quickly fading. The sound of their pursuit faded behind him and, soon enough, disappeared altogether. Once he was sure he’d lost them, Shouta started moving more carefully, ghosting over the ground without a sound. Bad luck had let Kirishima and Tsuyu find him while he napped. He just needed to be more careful, and he could get through this. 

…

Shouta slept lightly that night and changed spots whenever his legs cramped too badly.  If someone found him, he needed to be able to run. Or fight, though Shouta would prefer to avoid that option, especially against a Pro. Shouta thought he dozed off a few times, but he wasn’t sure. At some point, the constant exhaustion blurred together, and he had no way to measure time.

Eventually, in the pre-dawn light, he gave up trying to sleep and started walking. He was getting a headache from the constant vigilance, but he didn’t let his guard down. He was nearing one of his favorite hiding spaces, a small clearing surrounded by densely packed trees. He’d stumbled onto it his first year at UA, and it was nearly impossible to see from the outside.

Shouta ducked down past the last few branches and froze. Somebody was already there.

The yellow sleeping bag—the one Shouta had been using—was spread out across the clearing, and somebody was inside. Through the head hole was a mass of long, blonde hair. The figure shifted slightly, enough for some hair to fall away from his face. And it was a he; Shouta recognized Present Mic immediately.

Shouta ducked sideways so he was hidden under one of the trees instead of exposed. How had Present Mic gotten here? How had he even known about this place? And why in the seven hells did he have the sleeping bag?

Shouta knew he should leave. Present Mic had already proven how dangerous he was, and Shouta wasn’t interested in a rematch. The unanswered questions kept him rooted to the spot, though staring at Present Mic’s sleeping form wasn’t bringing him any closer to an answer. Shouta had just convinced himself he needed to move when a phone went off.

Shouta’s first, panicked thought was that it was his phone and he’d just spectacularly broken his cover. Except that wasn’t Shouta’s ringtone—it was far too obnoxious—and Shouta didn’t have a phone anymore.  Present Mic stirred. Groaned. He freed himself from the cocoon and pulled a cell phone from its depths.

“Did you find anything?” Present Mic said, voice rough with sleep.

Shouta wasn’t nearly close enough to hear the voice on the other end. Whatever they said, it made Present Mic sigh and run a hand through his hair.

“No, nothing. I was right about his hiding spot though. Shouta’s definitely been here. I’ll check the other ones later.”

Another pause. Present Mic stood, groaning and stretching stiffly. He muttered something in English, a curse followed by a short string of words.

“Yeah, I’m listening. I know. I’ll see you soon.”

Present Mic hung up the phone and tucked it into his pants. He glanced around the clearing. Shouta held his breath as his gaze passed over his hiding spot, but it didn’t linger. Weirdly enough, the Pro looked less stressed than he had the rest of the week. He still looked tired and kinda sad, like he did every time Shouta had seen him, but it was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Present Mic rolled up the sleeping bag. Instead of taking it with him, he left it beside Shouta’s stockpile. He added a few other things too: energy bars and bottled water, like an offering.

Or a trap.

Shouta didn’t push his luck by following the teacher. He waited until Present Mic was long gone before walking in the opposite direction. He spared a brief, regretful thought for the sleeping bag and supplies he was leaving behind before continuing to his next bolthole.

He would have to move all his stashes now. Somehow, somewhere he’d been predictable. Present Mic had known exactly where to look. Shouta could only hope his knowledge was restricted to his older hiding spots and not all the random places he’d hidden food. Shouta would be careful, but he needed to eat.

It was a good thing he was headed to a different part of the forest. Hopefully he’d have better luck there.

Chapter Text

Shouta ate lunch sheltered under a thicket of bushes. He could feel a tension headache coming on, and his near sleepless night was catching up to him. He made a decision.

This wasn’t sustainable. UA wasn’t safe anymore. He was being hunted down by Pro Heroes and students, and eventually, inevitably he’d be caught. So, unless he wanted to turn himself in, he needed to leave. The idea was terrifying, but Shouta forced himself to think logically. Returning to the main buildings again was suicide, and sneaking around campus was getting him nowhere. Outside, he’d have options. Resources. He didn’t have money, or connections, or any reliable knowledge about the world, but he could manage. He always did.

Hizashi existed. Maybe his family home did too. It was a place to start, at least.

So Shouta stood and turned towards UA’s outer wall. He was still decently far away—UA’s size working against him again—but it wouldn’t take more than an hour to reach it. He’d figure out the rest afterwards.

Shouta moved slowly to avoid making a sound and listen for anyone approaching. Once, he hid from a search party—another group of students, Bakugo and Uraraka. Bakugo, at least, was easy to hear approaching, and Shouta was grateful about avoiding a rematch. Finally, he reached the wall.

UA’s outer walls were enormous. They rose almost three times Shouta’s height and were reinforced so strongly they could stop a tank in its tracks. Shouta followed the walls until he found a spot where handholds had been carved in for maintenance. The indentations were small and almost invisible, but they held Shouta’s weight.

Shouta was only a few feet off the ground when he felt something change. A whisper in the air and on his fingertips. Then the electricity hit. Shouta’s limbs seized. He collapsed to the ground with a hoarse shout and lay there for several moments, unable to move.

He’d activated UA’s defenses.

It felt like a betrayal. UA was his school. Whatever was wrong with his memories, that hadn’t changed.  Somebody must have removed his access. Probably the Principle, immediately after they realized Shouta’s real name and whatever loophole he’d initially taking advantage of.

Even as Shouta struggled to his feet, muscles aching, he had to admit it was a smart plan. Shouta didn’t have a prayer of getting past UA’s security defenses on his own. He couldn’t use his Quirk against a wall, and the defenses were some of the most advanced in the world.

They also sent a signal every time an unauthorized person tried to get past them. Shit. They knew where he was.

The effects of the electricity were wearing off, and Shouta staggered away. The tree line was just a touch further. He wouldn’t be safe there, but he’d be safer. He didn’t reach it. He heard somebody running through the trees, and they burst into the clearing.

It was the sickly man from UA’s training and the rooftop. Toshinori. He was out of breath, but he smiled when he saw Shouta.

“Aizawa,” he said. “It’s good to see you unharmed.”

Shouta stared him down, unwilling to turn his back on the unknown. Toshinori didn’t look like a fighter. His frame was thin and muscles wasted, and he looked like a stiff breeze could blow him over. Yet, appearances could be deceiving, and Shouta didn’t even know his Quirk. He’d been teaching the Heroes course, which meant he must have been a Pro Hero. At least the tremors from the electricity were gone.

When Shouta didn’t answer, Toshinori sighed and slowly walked closer, hands upturned as if trying to coax a nervous animal closer.

“There’s no need to run. We can help you.”

Shouta didn’t like being pandered to. He also wasn’t a fan of being electrocuted. All things considered, he wasn’t in the mood to listen to the Hero prattle on. He still didn’t like turning his back on Toshinori, but he didn’t have many other options. Shouta turned and ran.

Before he’d gone three steps, something hit Shouta square in the back, and he stumbled. His knees hit the ground, and Toshinori was on him before he could stand. Shouta kicked out to get some distance between them and flipped to his feet.

From a distance, he hadn’t registered how tall Toshinori was. He had almost two feet on Shouta, and his reach was ridiculous. Shouta didn’t see any openings in his stance either; Toshinori was definitely a Pro, and a skilled one too.

Shouta lunged towards Toshinori. If he couldn’t get away, he could at least use Toshinori’s reach against him. Toshinori easily deflected his attack and the following kick, keeping Shouta at a distance. Shouta didn’t let up, but he didn’t land a single hit. Toshinori was testing him. Shouta grit his teeth and moved faster, taking more risks. He managed a glancing blow to Toshinori’s shoulder. Then Toshinori retaliated.

He was fast. Shouta barely blocked the punch to his chest, and the force sent him reeling. He saw the kick coming, but he was off-balance and too slow. He couldn’t block as his feet were swept out from under him. He fell.

He tried to twist, to gain control of his fall, but Toshinori was right there. There were hands on his arm and side, and Shouta hit the ground hard. His hands were pinned down and a knee dug into his back. Panicking, Shouta struggled against Toshinori, but he had no leverage. He couldn’t break free.

“That’s enough, my boy. You don’t need to fight anymore, I promise,” Toshinori was saying. Platitudes and promises to make Shouta give up.

He refused.

Toshinori had been favoring his left side earlier. Shouta hadn’t been able to take advantage of it then, but maybe…

He twisted in Toshinori’s hold. Toshinori’s grip was firm, but he readjusted whenever Shouta was about to overextend a joint or muscle. Shouta could use that.

Shouta’s right hand was twisted high on his back, and his left was trapped under his body. An arm pinned his shoulders against the ground, but Shouta had just enough leeway to inch his left arm free. Toshinori was still talking in Shouta’s ear, and he let his struggles weaken like he was giving in.

“That’s it. There you go. The others will be here soon, and then-”

Shouta threw his elbow backwards, aiming for Toshinori’s side. It hit hard, and Toshinori crumpled. His hold loosened, and Shouta shot free.

“Wait, Aiza-” 

He was stopped by a coughing fit, and Shouta, who was nearly at the tree line, risked a glance backwards. Toshinori was hunched forward like he’d been trying to stand but couldn’t quite make it. One hand clutched at his side, and the other was held up against the coughs. Blood dripped from his fingers, bright red and unmistakable. Shouta froze.

Coughing up blood was bad. Really bad. He… he hadn’t meant to do that. He didn’t want to hurt the Hero at all, especially not like that. Part of Shouta demanded he go back and make sure the older man was alright. It was what a Hero would do. What anyone should do. But that would mean giving up, and getting caught, and Shouta couldn’t do that.

Toshinori had said it himself. The other teachers were almost there. Surely one of them would be able to help. Certainly better than Shouta, who knew nothing about internal bleeding. So, hating himself for it, Shouta turned around and kept running.

…

Shouta ran as far and as fast as he could, trying to put as much distance between him and the fight as he could. The teachers would be swarming the area now that they had an idea where he was. The students too, probably. Shouta hid from several groups, heart pounding, as he moved further and further away. Eventually, when he was satisfied with the distance, he found a good hiding spot and settled in for another long wait.

Shouta’s stomach started complaining sometime in the afternoon. As the day wore on, it became increasingly hard to stay alert. He was exhausted enough that his thoughts felt thick and muddled, but he still couldn’t sleep. The sunlight and constant danger made it impossible, and he kept seeing Toshinori and his bloody hand whenever he closed his eyes.

The birds were back again, and Shouta occupied himself by tossing them crumbs. One flew off quickly, startled, but the others stayed to enjoy his offerings. Shouta let his mind wander. He was tired, and there was something relaxing about feeding birds. And-

Wait.

Didn’t one of the 2-A students have a Quirk involving talking to animals? Kouda?

Shouta lurched up, cursing, and ran. He slid into a hiding space just before hearing someone crash through the forest. He didn’t dare move to see, but he recognized Iida and Midoriya’s voice. Two of the fastest students in the class. Thankfully, their Quirks weren’t suited for tracking.

“Anything?” Midoriya said.

More movement. Iida sighed.

“It appears that he has already moved on. We were too slow.”

They lingered for a while longer, poking around the forest without coming close to Shouta’s hiding spot. When they were gone, Shouta put his head in his hands and cursed, loudly and explicitly. He kept it going almost an entire minute without repeating himself and finished with an invitation for the physical manifestation of the universe to float down so he could bludgeon it into submission with its own disembodied limbs. Then, taking deep breaths, Shouta reevaluated his plans.

So. The animals could be spying on him. And he was in a forest. Shouta resisted the urge to pick up where he’d left off in threatening the universe. He didn’t know the details of Kouda’s Quirk and its limitations, but it had been used to find him. Twice now. Logically, he should find a place with fewer animals. Which would be difficult considering he was in the middle of a forest.

Shouta cut that train of thought off and focused on suppressing his anger again. He needed to think clearly, not rant about the many ways this day had gone wrong. Kouda’s Quirk had limitations too, considering he’d only been found twice despite being constantly surrounded by wildlife. UA’s campus wasn’t entirely forest either. If he was remembering correctly, training ground beta, the false city, was nearby.

The training grounds had more cameras than the forest, but they weren’t exhaustive. The false city was filled with blind spots, considering its size and complexity. Shouta could gather some supplies, find a convenient spot, and hole himself up for a while. It wasn’t a long-term solution, but it’d do for now. He’d figure out the rest later.   

Partway there, Shouta noticed he was near his favorite hiding spot, the one where he’d seen Present Mic sleeping. Common sense told him to avoid the area, but a few minutes later Shouta found himself at the clearing anyway. The sleeping bag was still there, along with the food and water.

It was probably a trap. There was probably a camera nearby or a tracking device embedded in the fabric. Yet, Shouta was hungry and exhausted. He’d slept even worse than usual the night before. Another night like that, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to function in the morning.

Shouta took the damn sleeping bag.

…

AN: Fun fact: Toshinori threw his canonical copy of Teaching for Dummies to stop Aizawa, because I love irony. Toshinori also turned into one of my favorite characters to write with this chapter, which I was not expecting. He’s so sweet. So earnest. So ridiculously tall...

Chapter Text

Being in the false city was different than the forest. More comfortable, in a way, because Shouta was used to cities. He knew how to navigate them and where to find the best hiding spots. He remembered the training field from class too, and he knew where most of the cameras were hidden.

 Once, as a personal challenge, he’d tried to get through a training exercise without being caught on tape. He hadn’t succeeded—a few of his classmates had been holed up in the center, which was covered in cameras—but he’d come close. Professor Nedzu had praised him for his stealth, and Hizashi had laughed and told him about how he’d startled everyone by leaping out of nowhere to ‘capture’ an opponent.

Yet, since the moment he left the forest behind, Shouta felt uneasy. The sleeping bag helped, but he slept poorly that night. The next morning, he was functional and reasonably alert but nothing more. He was probably just stressed. Tired, stressed, and trapped inside UA’s campus. He didn’t need to add paranoid to the list too.  

Shouta resisted the urge to keep moving. He was sure he’d remained in the cameras’ blind spots, and his current bolt hole was well-hidden. Moving again would only put him in more danger.

Shouta was dozing when he heard the first explosion. He jerked upright and stumbled to the window. Bakugo was flying towards him. Fire bloomed behind him, raising him up like a demon out of hell.

“You!” he shouted, face twisted in anger.

On instinct, Shouta activated his Quirk. The explosions disappeared immediately, and Shouta had just enough time to see the shock on Bakugo’s face before he started falling. He didn’t get far. Strips of tape flew out from below, catching Bakugo and pulling him to safety.

“You asshole!” Bakugo shouted. “Stop running and get the fuck down here!”

Shouta sprinted away from the window. He didn’t bother with the staircase as he ran through the building. The opposite side of the building overlooked a narrow alleyway, and Shouta easily found a window that opened for him. A quick scan of the ground didn’t reveal anyone waiting below. Shouta swung his legs over the windowsill and scrambled downwards as fast as he dared. He was on the ground and running before he heard the students shouting after him.

Shouta remembered how to navigate the training ground. He darted down sharp turns and winding alleyways, leading his pursuers on a messy chase. Bakugo’s threats grew steadily more distant until they disappeared altogether, and Shouta let himself slow.

He hadn’t been paying attention to anything besides the best path ahead, but now his tunnel vision was clearing. He was closer to the middle of the city now. This area was more heavily monitored. Shouta looked up, and yup. That was a camera staring back at him.

He started running again, avoiding the cameras as best he could. He wasn’t sure how well it worked. The cameras were closer together here, and he was sure some caught his movement on the edge of their fields. Shouta could only hope he was fast and unpredictable enough to avoid getting caught.

As he turned a corner and found his path blocked by a web of tape, Shouta knew he hadn’t been. In the next step, Shouta was redirecting his momentum, aiming for the next turn, only to have Bakugo step into his path. The teen was grinning.

“Nowhere to run,” he said. “Now show me what you’ve got.”

Igniting an explosion behind him, Bakugo flew towards Shouta. Shouta Erased his Quirk, but this time Bakugo didn’t stop. He kept his legs underneath him and sprang towards Shouta.

Without Bakugo’s Quirk, Shouta was better than him. Bakugo televised his attacks, and he relied on strength more than skill. Yet, he was good enough to keep Shouta from getting past him, and eventually Shouta had to blink.

Bakugo’s next punch had an explosion behind it, and Shouta barely dodged the enhanced blow. The following flurry pushed him back, deeper into the alleyway, and Shouta felt bruises blooming on his arms.

“Not so tough now, are you!” Bakugo shouted, and he went for a kick.

Shouta reactivated his Quirk. Bakugo’s leg lost momentum midway, and he wobbled, balance shot. Shouta moved in, low to the ground and beneath Bakugo’s guard. He hooked his leg around Bakugo’s ankle and pulled, sending him crashing down. Shouta didn’t miss a step as he sprinted away.

Something whistled through the air, and Shouta narrowly avoided getting caught in a loop of tape. Sero. The other teen was on the roof, where Shouta couldn’t reach him, and he sent several more strands of tape at him, herding Shouta away from the exit. Behind him, Bakugo was cursing up a storm as he regained his feet. He wouldn’t be down for much longer.

Instead of dodging the next strand of tape, Shouta snatched the attack out of the air and pulled. Caught off guard, Sero flew towards him with a yelp. Shouta’s hands stung as he ripped the tape off them, but he didn’t let it slow him down. Bakugo was fast, and they had the help of someone monitoring the cameras. He needed to get out of range as quickly as possible, and he could only hope that nobody else had caught up.

Except, as he rounded the next corner, he could already see a third figure waiting for him.

Shinsou. The boy with a verbally-activated brainwashing Quirk. Shouta hadn’t been able to figure out the details, but he could keep his mouth shut without a problem. Shinsou wasn’t a slouch in close combat either, but Shouta was better. He’d be willing to take his chances, except he could already hear Bakugo and Sero catching up behind him. Shouta was good, but he knew he couldn’t take all three at once. Shit.

To his surprise, Shinsou focused on something behind Shouta first. He raised his voice to shout at Bakugo.

“Are you going to interrupt us?” Shinsou said.

“Fuck yeah I-”

“Don’t. Not unless he gets away from me.”

Shouta was surprised when Bakugo didn’t argue or start attacking again—was that all it took for Shinsou’s Quirk?—but he put him out of his mind. First things first, he needed to handle Shinsou. He’d deal with the others afterwards.

Shouta lunged forward, hoping to catch Shinsou off guard. Shinsou blocked him, and he pulled a clever bit of misdirection that nearly ended with Shouta grappled. Shouta kept fighting, and he didn’t fall for Shinsou’s trick again. He didn’t get past the other teen either, and eventually he had to pull back to catch his breath. Shinsou was breathing hard too, but it didn’t stop him from speaking.

“You’re being awfully quiet. That’s a shame. I think we could really help each other out, don’t you agree?”

Shouta said nothing. Shinsou smiled and went in for the killing blow.

“Don’t you want to know what happened to Hizashi?”

Shouta forgot about Shinsou’s Quirk. He forgot about the fight. Everything was washed away by the need to know how Shinsou knew that name.

“What do you-” Shouta started to say, and then he didn’t think about anything at all.

…

Shouta woke up all at once. He’d been in a haze where nothing registered and no thoughts reached him. Then, suddenly, he was sitting on the ground with his hands and legs thoroughly bound. Shinsou was standing in front of him, looking decidedly smug, with Sero at his side. Bakugo was fuming several feet away.

“Sorry Aizawa, but this is for your own good,” Shinsou said.

Shouta glared at him, holding his tongue far too late for it to do any good. Stupid. Stupid. He’d known exactly what the other teen was trying to do, and he’d fallen for it almost immediately. Shouta tested the bonds, but they were expertly tied. The only way to move would involve flopping over and inching across the concrete. Shouta wasn’t sure his pride would survive that, even if he magically convinced his captors to turn away so he could wriggle away uninterrupted.

Fuck it. He was already caught. The situation couldn’t get any worse.

“Aren’t you going to answer the question?”

Shinsou looked at him, head tilted, as if he’d already forgotten the question that had entrapped Shouta. A moment later, he blinked in realization. “Oh yeah, Hizashi. He’ll be here soon. I’m sure he’d prefer to explain the situation personally.”

Shinsou’s legs folded under him as he sank to the ground. He was taller than Shouta, but his careless slouch put him almost at eye level. “Why don’t you show some patience, hm? That’s supposed to be your specialty.”

Shouta grit his teeth and glared at the teen. Patience. Sure. Shouta would like to tie him up, surround him with enemies, and see just how well his patience survived.

Shinsou kept staring at him with that infuriating smile on his face, as if Shouta’s glare didn’t affect him at all. Shouta had it on good authority that his glare was a terrifying thing to behold. When he turned it on Sero, it earned a satisfying flinch. From Shinsou? Nothing.

Soon enough, he heard footsteps pounding on the pavement. Someone was running towards them. A moment later, the cockatiel man—Present Mic—skidded around a corner. Shouta fixed him with his worst glare, but the teacher didn’t even flinch. Maybe Shouta really was losing his touch.

“Oh thank fuck,” Present Mic said as he hurried closer.

He fell to his knees in front of Shouta, and then he was hugging him. Present Mic. Hugging.

Shouta stiffened and stared at the man like he was insane. A stranger was touching him. A strange hero, who’d attacked him last time they met. Shouta had no idea how to react, not that he could do much while tied up. Thankfully, Present Mic released him after a few seconds. He was wiping at his eyes.

Seriously, what the hell was happening?

“Shoot, sorry Shouta. That probably seemed weird. Introductions first, yeah? It’s me, Hizashi. You’ve been hit by one heck of a Quirk.”

Shouta stared. He looked at the physics-defying hair. The ridiculous amount of leather. The impractically upswept collar. Yeah, this was exactly the kind of look Hizashi would love. Shouta could almost see the resemblance too. If he were inclined to believe his best friend had spontaneously doubled in age.  

“Bullshit,” Shouta said.

Beside them, he heard the students choke. Sero muffled laughter, and somebody whispered something about teachers cursing. Shouta ignored them.

Present Mic just smiled, clutching at his chest in an overblown display of emotion. “That’s cold, Shouta! Don’t worry. We’ll prove it to you.”

He looked at the tape tying Shouta’s limbs together and frowned. “Any chance I can take these pesky things off and trust you not to run off again?”

“Go ahead.”

Present Mic tilted his head back and laughed. The sound made something lurch in Shouta’s chest. Because… yeah, that sounded like Hizashi’s laugh. Earnest, overly enthusiastic, and five times louder than anyone else. It was a little deeper, a little richer but… Suddenly, Shouta wasn’t so sure about rejecting Present Mic’s statement.

“Sorry about this, Shouta! I’ll try to make this as painless as possible, alright?”

And then Present Mic leaned down and picked Shouta up. Shouta yelped and started to struggle. Of course, Present Mic was a Pro too, and his grip didn’t waver as he started to walk.

“Calm down, alright? I don’t want to drop you!”

Reluctantly, Shouta stopped moving and laid there, stiff as a board, while Present Mic carried him towards the main building.

Shouta didn’t mind being short. It was just a fact; a genetic byproduct. He was fast and strong enough to make up for it, which was what mattered. Still, there was something demeaning about being picked up and carried like a child. Shouta shot a withering glare at Present Mic but, if anything, his smile seemed to widen.

Soon enough, the main building came into view. As they grew closer, Shouta realized there was a small, very familiar figure waiting in its doorway.

“Professor Nedzu?”

Nedzu grinned up at him. He looked almost exactly as Shouta remembered him, and Shouta was suddenly, overwhelmingly grateful for his homeroom teacher.

“It’s Principle Nedzu now, I’m happy to say! And might I add that I am quite pleased to see you back and unharmed. Now, might I suggest we retire to my office? I’m sure it’ll be quite the comfortable place for this discussion, and I’ll put the tea kettle on.”

Shouta distinctly remembered how “putting the tea kettle on” had been a very serious threat to his class, but he couldn’t muster up any emotion besides relief. Even his annoyance at Present Mic mellowed, though the Hero insisted on carrying Shouta through the building.

Professor- Principle Nedzu, he supposed, wasn’t a miracle worker. He couldn’t fix everything. But he was Shouta’s Homeroom Teacher, and Shouta trusted him implicitly. Just then, having somebody he could trust seemed like a miracle in itself.  

...

Chapter Text

Shouta sat in Principal Nedzu’s office with a cup of tea cooling in his hands and a mess of pictures and documents spread out on the table beside him. Almost an hour had passed before Nedzu ran out of words, and they sat in silence as Shouta rifled through the piles that apparently summed up his adult life.

Present Mic was sitting in a nearby chair, uncharacteristically silent. He kept stealing glances at Shouta, as if trying to gauge how he was taking the news.

Shouta thought he was taking it pretty well, all things considered. He’d apparently lost fifteen years of memory. Literally half of his life. He’d graduation, become a hero, then a teacher--and hadn’t that been a surprise. Shouta hated being stuck in a noisy classroom of teenagers as a student; he couldn’t imagine willingly coming back as a teacher. Shouta looked down at the class photo, where Eraserhead—him, apparently—was standing with the students of 2-A.

Shouta had never put much thought into what he’d look like as an adult. He was taller than he’d expected and broader too, and Shouta felt a little thrill at the signs of strength hidden under his uniform. His hair was longer, and he had a seemingly perpetual scruff half-hidden under his capture weapon. Shouta could see himself in the features though, which was more than he’d expected.

He hadn’t touched his current cup of tea, but Prof- Principal Nedzu replaced it with a new, steaming cup anyway. He did the same for Present Mic. The Hero was tapping his foot in a nervous gesture Shouta recognized from his Hizashi. It had been the background noise of their training exercises, along with his humming and occasional snatches of song.

Shouta looked down at the pictures, which showed a clear progression from the Hizashi he knew to the Hero sitting in front of him. He should probably start calling him Hizashi, but Shouta shied away from the thought.

He could admit, logically, that this was Hizashi Yamada in front of him. The alternative was a conspiracy so complex and convoluted that it couldn’t possibly have survived Shouta’s investigation. Emotionally, Shouta wasn’t so sure about calling the stranger by his best friend’s name.

 “Well then! Do you have any further questions? I promise I’ll do my utmost to answer them,” Principal Nedzu said.

Shouta scanned the line of pictures again, and his eyes caught on one of the more recent ones. Him, Hizashi, Toshinori, and the female teacher—Nemuri—getting drinks. A very drunk Nemuri was teasing Present Mic, and he—Eraserhead—was smiling into his drink. Shouta couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled like that in public or around anyone other than Hizashi.

“What happened to me?” Shouta asked.

“I’m afraid that’s still quite the mystery. Some kind of Quirk, of course, and we’re putting considerable effort into tracking it down. We spent quite a while chasing after all the wrong leads, and it’s only recently that we’ve switched to the right track! The current investigation is proceeding quite nicely though.”

Shouta remembered the talk from earlier that week. They’d been thinking kidnapping and villainous organizations. Not this. With his missing memories, Shouta didn’t have much to add, but he had something.

“When I woke up, there was someone running out of the alley. I was disoriented and didn’t get a good look. They were normal adult size though. Standard bipedal.”

“Would you be able to point out this alley?”

Shouta nodded. He’d barely spared it a thought since arriving at UA, but he had a good memory for places.

“Excellent! I’m quite hopeful we’ll be able to piece together this mystery. In the meantime, you’ll need a place to stay. Our dorms have a few extra rooms.”

“No,” Shouta said, horrified at the though.

Principal Nedzu laughed. “Of course, of course. Your other option is to stay with a teacher, and I’m sure Hizashi wouldn’t mind the responsibility.”

The tapping stopped. Present Mic wasn’t even hiding his staring anymore. Shouta stared back. He wasn’t sure what to think about being around the Hero. Or anyone who knew his adult self, really. Still, it was Hizashi—a Hizashi who’d known him for a decade and a half—and anything would be better than the dorms.

“Sure.”

…

Present Mic rambled the entire trip to his apartment. He didn’t seem to expect Shouta’s input, and Shouta didn’t volunteer anything. The trip was short, at least, and soon Present Mic was unlocking the door and inviting Shouta inside.

“Make yourself at home! Seriously, you’re welcome to anything here.”

Shouta looked around and was reluctantly impressed. He’d expected something as colorful and chaotic as Hizashi’s personality. Instead, the apartment was clean and borderline minimalist. An enormous, overstuffed couch dominated the main room, and behind it was a large window with a padded nook underneath, the perfect size for a nap. The room was more crowded than Shouta preferred, but it wasn’t bad.

Signs of Hizashi were everywhere too, albeit more understated than he’d expected. One wall was covered with shelves of albums, and there were instruments and recording devices neatly displayed everywhere he looked. The apartment transitioned into a modest kitchen on his right. The counter was a mess, with papers strewn about and unwashed coffee mugs arranged in a haphazard pile. The sink was filled with unwashed dishes and takeout containers. Hizashi followed his gaze and winced.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Shouta. I’ll take care of that now, yeah? I know how much you hate that kinda stuff.”

With a cheerful thumbs-up, Present Mic started towards the kitchen. He hesitated and glanced back. Then he stepped closer again and pulled Shouta into a hug. Present Mic’s arms were tight around his shoulders, and Shouta’s face pressed against his leather jacket. A tremor passed through the Hero’s body. Then he breathed out and stepped back.

“I’m really glad you’re alright,” he said.

Present Mic turned back towards the kitchen, leaving Shouta standing awkwardly in the entryway. He considered investigating the mess of papers on the counter, but that was a bit too close to where Present Mic was busying himself with the dishes. Shouta… wasn’t sure what to think about that. He hadn’t told his Hizashi about the way clutter and trash grated on his nerves, and he certainly hadn’t told him why. He didn’t like the idea that he’d forgotten that conversation.

Shouta turned his attention to the couch instead. He was halfway there when a small ball of fluff dashed out of another door and intercepted him. It was a cat, completely black except for a few speckles of white across its ears. The cat immediately started twining around Shouta’s ankles, purring intensely. Shouta’s heart melted.

“That’s Jazz!” Present Mic shouted from the kitchen. “She’s missed you! She’s been getting a lot less attention than normal lately, the poor kitty.”

Shouta reached down to scratch her ears, and Jazz pressed against his palm. With her face upturned, Shouta realized her eyes had been removed. He kept scratching her head as he continued towards the couch. Jazz jumped up beside him, and Shouta found himself on a sinfully comfortable couch with a purring cat on his lap.

Soon enough, Shouta started slumping, and he readjusted until he was spread across the couch, still petting Jazz. In the kitchen, Present Mic started singing quietly in English, and Shouta wasn’t surprised when he drifted off to sleep.

…

Shouta heard someone calling his name and burrowed deeper into the cushions. He was comfier than he’d been in ages and so exhausted he could sleep forever. The person kept calling his name and touched his shoulder, so Shouta reluctantly responded. He swatted the hand away and grudgingly uncurled, rubbing at his eyes.

Shouta almost didn’t recognize Present Mic standing in front of him. He’d switched out the leather for a patterned t-shirt and worn jeans. His hair was freshly washed and hung loosely down his back, and a blocky pair of headphones sat around his neck.

He looked more like Hizashi like this. Definitely not like Present Mic, the UA teacher and Pro Hero. He held a steaming bowl in his hand, which he pressed towards Shouta.

“You can cook?” Shouta said.

Present Mic-Hizashi-laughed and grabbed his own bowl before joining Shouta on the couch.

“I had to learn eventually! I’m no gourmet, but hey. You haven’t complained in years, so I must be doing something right!”     

Shouta shrugged and took a bite. It was a simple meal, little more than prepared vegetables and rice, but it was the first warm food Shouta had eaten since Thursday. He ate quickly.

Halfway through, Shouta snuck a glance at Hizashi. He turned the name around in his head, trying to decide how he felt about it. It still didn’t feel quite right, but it didn’t feel wrong either, like it had while he was in full Hero gear.

“Hizashi?” Shouta said, testing the word in his mouth. Still strange. He’d get used to it.

Hizashi looked up at him. One cheek bulged with rice, which he quickly swallowed. Shouta shook his head and looked away.

“Nevermind.”

Hizashi scooted closer, knocking against Shouta’s shoulder. “It’s not like you to say something without a reason! C’mon, what is it?”

Shouta considered his thoughts for a few moments, and Hizashi waited patiently until he was ready.

“Is there a laptop I can use?” Shouta asked.

Hizashi nodded and practically leapt off the couch, abandoning his half-finished bowl. He disappeared into a side door, which seemed to lead to the bedroom, and emerged with a laptop. It was neutrally colored and bare of decoration, which meant it wasn’t Hizashi’s.

“Have at it! I’ll write down the login info for you, and feel free to ask me absolutely any question too.”

Shouta accepted the laptop. He finished his meal while scrolling through news sites and searching all the things he’d desperately wanted to the week prior. Most of it only confirmed what Principal Nedzu had told him earlier, and Shouta found himself looking up videos of himself as a Pro Hero. There weren’t many, and most were poor quality cell phones or security camera footage. Shouta was impressed with what he saw, especially with the capture weapon he’d apparently mastered.

He researched Hizashi too. Hizashi had significantly more videos, including several very active social media accounts.

“You got your radio show,” Shouta said, flipping through its website. It seemed reasonably popular too. Small, animated microphones and sunglasses danced across the bottom of the pages

“Yeah! Put Your Hands Up Radio!” Hizashi said, raising his voice and doing some strange hand sign. He looked over Shouta’s shoulder, and his grin widened when he saw the website.

“Aw, you’re looking me up? I’m flattered! I’m right here if you wanna get your answers from the source.”

“Third parties are more objective.”

Hizashi grumbled something and scooted away again, which surprised Shouta. Hizashi was an almost pathologically tactile person. Whenever Shouta was remotely within touching distance, he ended up with an arm slung over his shoulders or their sides pressed together. He couldn’t remember the last time Hizashi had willingly pulled away. It was… strange. Not that Shouta could blame him; it was an uncomfortable situation all around. Hizashi didn’t seem sure what to do with himself, though he eventually took out a stack of papers for grading.

Shouta ignored him and continued his search. Hizashi’s fingers started tapping away on the table as he concentrated. It wasn’t annoying, but the movement drew Shouta’s attention to the metal decorating his fingers.

Hizashi had taken off most of his jewelry with the rest of his costume, but he was still wearing a couple smaller rings. Including one on his left ring finger. It looked suspiciously like a wedding ring.

Shouta immediately looked away and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest. Hizashi was married. Shouta really should’ve expected that. Most people were married by thirty, and Hizashi had always been a romantic. Shouta told himself he wasn’t disappointed. He'd been denying that stupid crush for months, and this just proved it was as hopeless as he’d always known it was. 

Shouta wondered what had happened to his… husband? Wife? Hizashi had dated both. Probably they were staying somewhere else, to avoid crowding Shouta. Shouta was ashamed of how grateful he was for the courtesy.

Shouta turned back to the laptop and resolved to ignore all thoughts of Hizashi and his love-life. He had more important things to focus on. Eventually, Hizashi migrated to the kitchen counter, leaving Shouta alone.

…

Shouta found the video by accident. It was unlabeled and in a folder of its own, as if it’d been pushed it to the side instead of organized with the rest of the files. Shouta opened it out of boredom, and he had low expectations for its contents.

It was security camera footage. Good quality, but basic. No audio. Shouta recognized the main floor of the Unforeseen Simulations Joint immediately. Except it was filled with people. Adults in full costume, not students. Shouta frowned and leaned closer to the screen, as if that would help him get a better angle. Already, something felt off about the footage. Except the USJ was safely within UA’s campus. They had to be heroes, right? Some new training exercise?

Then Shouta saw his older self run on screen, flinging one of the adults to the side. His capture weapon was activated and goggles down. He didn’t pause a moment before charging at another group.

Villains. The USJ had been attacked by villains. Shouta vaguely remembered Ashido mentioning an attack, but back then it had only been one more sign of his fractured memory. It was different with the footage in front of him. Seeing himself, fighting against a crowd of villains while fatigue settled in. Knowing the students of 2-A were somewhere offscreen.

Shouta knew that, somehow, it had worked out. That didn’t make it any easier to watch as the situation deteriorated.

…

A hand reached around Shouta and closed the video. Hizashi. Shouta hadn’t noticed him approach. It didn’t help. Shouta could still see the unnatural angles of his arms after the creature broke them. The forced arc of his back just before his head was slammed against the concrete. The ringleader, still standing over Midoriya and Asui.

Shouta remembered the scar on his older self’s cheekbone. Now he knew where it’d come from.

“How did I survive?” Shouta asked. He’d been completely helpless. Broken and at the creature’s mercy. By all rights, he should have died there.

“All Might arrived soon after, and the rest of us were only a few minutes behind him. We chased them off.”

Shouta could see Hizashi’s reflection in the now dark screen. It made Shouta realize he’d never seen Hizashi properly angry. Upset, sure, and frustrated, but not angry. Because Shouta had never seen that look on Hizashi’s face before.

“I failed,” Shouta said.

He felt hands on his shoulders, and Hizashi physically turned him so he could look Shouta in the eye.

“You were the only one badly injured. You held the villains off until help arrived, and you stayed conscious long enough to save Asui’s life. And you, by the way, are still a student and shouldn’t be worrying about this until your memories come back.”

“But-”

“Nope! I’ve already had this conversation several times with your adult self. You’re too self-sacrificing for your own good.”

Shouta nodded, but he didn’t stop thinking about it. He’d broken bones before, but not many. Not when somebody was intentionally hurting him.  And… he hadn’t blinked. Not until after the ringleader released Asui. He hadn’t been good enough, but he never stopped fighting.

“That’s the kind of Hero I wanted to be,” Shouta said.

Somebody who kept fighting and wasn’t afraid of getting hurt. Who protected other people, no matter what. He wasn’t quite sure how to put it into words, but Hizashi smiled like he already knew.

“Yeah. You became an incredible Hero, Shouta. I just wish you’d take better care of yourself too.”

Hizashi stepped away, and he returned with cat in arm, which he immediately transferred to Shouta’s lap. Jazz was surprisingly tolerant about being manhandled, and she settled easily against Shouta. He didn’t protest when Hizashi took the laptop away with him.

“I think that’s enough of that for tonight,” Hizashi said. He deposited the laptop on the kitchen counter. Accessible, but well out of reach. Shouta would have to disturb Jazz again to reach it.

Hizashi knew him well. With a cat on his lap, he wasn’t even upset about it.

Eventually, Hizashi finished his work and took a futon out of storage. It fit easily between the couch and the window, and Hizashi added several blankets and pillows.

“You’re welcome to take the bed, and I’ll spend the night out here,” Hizashi said.

Normally, Shouta would never turn down a more comfortable way to sleep. Except, this wasn’t his Hizashi. If he was right about the wedding ring, then the other room held their marriage bed. Shouta didn’t want to spend the night wondering about the stranger that usually shared it.

“I’m not going to take an old man’s bed away from him,” Shouta said.

Hizashi stared at him, mouth falling open. “Old man!?!” he repeated. “I’ll have you know I’m in the prime of my life!”

Shouta repressed a smile and boxed his unwanted emotions back up again. It took a bit longer to convince Hizashi to take the bed, but eventually he relented. The futon was comfortable too, especially with the extra blankets. Eventually, Shouta fell asleep.

…

Shouta woke to somebody moving nearby. He was immediately alert, and his heart pounded in his chest. He cracked his eyes open and relaxed. He’d recognize Hizashi anywhere. Except, even in the darkness, Shouta could tell something was wrong. Hizashi turned away and sank onto the couch, and Shouta propped his head up to stare.

“Hizashi? Did something happen?”

Hizashi jerked like he hadn’t noticed Shouta waking. That wasn’t right; even as a teen, Hizashi was more perceptive than that.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about. Just go back to sleep, yeah?”

Something was off with his voice too. Shouta wriggled out of his blankets and joined Hizashi on the couch. He could barely see the older man in the dim light, but when Shouta touched his shoulder he felt him shaking.

“Tell me,” Shouta said.

Hizashi shifted and started to stand, but Shouta tightened his grip. There were tear tracks on Hizashi’s cheeks, though he tried to smile.

“Seriously, it’s fine. You know how emotional I get.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Hizashi sighed and leaned back against the couch. Shouta let go of his shoulder and, after a moment’s hesitation, pressed his side against Hizashi’s, like he would’ve for his version.

“It was a dream, that’s all. It reminded me how lucky we were. You woke up alone in an alleyway, for chrissake. If you hadn’t come right to UA, or if someone else had found you first…” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “We have enemies now. It was bad enough thinking you were in their hands as an adult, but you’re just a kid.”

Hizashi was crying unashamedly now with his head bowed over his hands. Shouta wasn’t good at comforting people, but he did his best, wrapping one arm around Hizashi’s back and patting awkwardly. Hizashi’s shoulders were broader than Shouta remembered and the long hair was new, but he still seemed to find the contact reassuring.

Eventually, the tears tapered off, and Hizashi’s breathing evened out again. Shouta didn’t move away. Not until Hizashi sighed and straightened, and Shouta let his arm fall.

“Sorry about that, Shouta,” Hizashi said, voice raw. “You shouldn’t have to see this.”

Shouta glared at him. When that didn’t seem to have an effect, he cuffed Hizashi upside the head, which earned him a very satisfying yelp.

“Don’t be an idiot. The adult me wouldn’t want you to wallow alone.”

The current him didn’t want it either, but he didn’t think that would mean as much to Hizashi. Hizashi chuckled. It was a quiet, watery sound that seemed unnatural compared to how loud Hizashi was supposed to be.

“Thanks. You should go back to sleep though. It looks like you need it.”

Shouta did, but he wouldn’t be able to sleep while Hizashi was like this. He looked better than when Shouta had first woken up, but there was still something dark behind his eyes. Shouta wouldn’t leave him alone to brood over what-ifs. He could catch up on sleep later.

“I’ll make some tea,” he said

Hizashi started to protest, but Shouta waved him off. The tea kettle was easy enough to find, and there was a sizeable collection of loose leaf in a cabinet. Shouta picked the most soothing blend he could find and returned to the couch with two steaming cups in hand.

Shouta didn’t push Hizashi to talk, and he flicked on the tv to fill the silence. Eventually, hours later, Hizashi drifted to sleep against the side of the couch. Shouta shifted him over so his head wasn’t at such an awkward angle and finally returned to his futon. He was asleep almost immediately.

Chapter Text

…

Shouta was tragically awake when he heard Hizashi moving around in the other room. He’d been obscenely comfortable on the futon, surrounded by blankets and a purring cat. He still couldn’t sleep. It was a good thing Shouta was used to functioning while exhausted, and he had plenty of free time for naps.

Hizashi emerged an hour later in full Present Mic getup. He tossed an extra set of clothing to Shouta. They were casual clothes, soft and loose and surprisingly in Shouta’s size.

“Up and at ‘em, Shouta!” Hizashi said, nudging at Shouta as he tried to hide back under the blankets. “We have a train to catch, and I’m not allowed to leave you behind.”

Groaning, Shouta let himself be ushered out of the blankets and into the bathroom. By the time Shouta emerged, Hizashi had a small breakfast laid out and a pot of coffee dripping away.

“You are my favorite person,” Shouta said when Hizashi offered him a cup.

Shouta hadn’t drunken coffee in a week. He’d been severely deprived.

Shouta didn’t pay attention to the trip to UA, even with the coffee and Hizashi chatting in his ear the entire time. Somebody was waiting for them at the UA gates. Nemuri; Shouta recognized her from the pictures. She lit up when she saw them, and her mouth curved in a frankly terrifying grin.

“Oh my god, you’re tiny!” Nemuri said.

Apparently all of Shouta’s adult friends were tactile people, because she immediately pulled him into a hug. Normally, Shouta would have endured the physical contact, but his head was pressed against something squishy. Shouta stood there stupidly for a moment before pushing Nemuri away, blushing furiously.

Instead of being embarrassed, Nemuri grinned at him and patted his cheek. “Just look at you! You’re like a grumpy little kitten.”

Shouta glared at her. Maybe he’d been wrong about her being his adult form’s friend. Or maybe, after fifteen years, Hizashi had thoroughly corrupted his taste in other people.

He walked ahead of them on their way towards the teachers’ lounge and waited for them at the door. Something about strutting into the teachers’ lounge still felt wrong, especially since it was probably filled with strangers who knew him as an adult. Nemuri blew a kiss at him as she walked past, and Hizashi slung an arm over his shoulder as he guided Shouta inside.

A few teachers were already there, and they all stared at him. Shouta ducked his head down and followed Hizashi to their desks. Conveniently, their desks were pressed against each other. Shouta’s was bare, with only a few neat folders of paper, while Hizashi’s was cluttered with pictures and knickknacks. Hizashi sat down at his chair, and Shouta lingered by his side for a moment before investigating his own desk.  He looked through one of the folders, which contained lesson plans written in his own handwriting.

“I was 2-A’s homeroom teacher, right?” Shouta said.

Hizashi set down the papers and turned towards Shouta. “Yup. You taught a strategy course for the upper years too.”

“Who’s teaching it now?”

“We’ve been taking turns covering the class, especially Toshinori. Don’t worry; your students are in good hands!”

Shouta hummed, content with his answer, and eyed the empty space below his desk. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable place for a nap, but he’d at least be hidden from the stares. Something yellow peeked out from the corner, and Shouta leaned down to find another sleeping bag tucked under the desk. It was identical to the one he’d found in the supply closet a couple floors up.

“This is mine,” Shouta realized as he pulled it out. Of course it was; one of Shouta’s dreams was to have a constant supply of sleeping bags for naps. Apparently he hadn’t changed too much as an adult.

“Yup! The other one is washed and back in your closet too. I should’ve guessed you’d found it. You have a gift for sniffing out the best places to steal a nap.”

By the time he’d finished talking, Shouta was under the desk and zipped into the sleeping bag. He didn’t get much napping done, but at least he was comfortable.

Eventually the teachers, including Hizashi, trickled out to their classes. Shouta mostly stayed under his desk, dozing and fiddling with the replacement phone he’d been given. There was always at least one teacher in the room with him, and Shouta wondered if it was intentional. Probably. Having a babysitter rankled, but, after that disaster of a weekend, Shouta couldn’t really blame them.

The morning dragged on. Hizashi came in and out a few times, and he returned just before lunch. Shouta hoped he’d brought food with him, but Hizashi kicked him out of his sleeping bag instead.

“I know how much you love playing caterpillar and ignoring the world, but you’re not allowed to hide away forever! We’re gonna eat lunch in the cafeteria, one way or another.”

Shouta grimaced, but he didn’t resist—much—as Hizashi pulled him out of the teachers’ lounge and into the hallways. They were already crowded with students, and the news of Shouta’s condition had clearly spread. Students stared as them passed, and whispers sprung up behind them. It was worse in the cafeteria. Then Shouta noticed the class of 2-A staring intensely at him.

As he watched, Ashido stood up and cut a path through the cafeteria towards them. She stopped right in front of Shouta, hands on her hips and glaring at him.

“I’m going to hug you,” Ashido said. And she did.

Shouta had received an excessive number of hugs in the past two days, and he endured this one too. He even patted her awkwardly on the back. Ashido pulled away a few seconds later.

“I’m really glad you’re alright. Both, like, adult-you and you-you. I can’t believe you ran off and hid in the forest for three days! Everyone was super worried.”

Shouta shrugged. It’d been a logical choice at the time, considering the information he’d been working with. Ashido turned to Hizashi.

“I’m stealing Aizawa for lunch. You can have him back next period.”

Hizashi, the traitor, was grinning like a loon. “Be careful with him, my little parakeet! He’s more breakable than normal, and I want him back in mint condition afterwards.”

Ashido nodded, grabbed Shouta’s arm, and towed him back towards the rest of class 2-A. Shouta’s footsteps slowed as they grew closer. There were a lot of eyes staring at him. And a lot of history with this class—his students—that he’d forgotten. He didn’t like being at such a disadvantage.

Ashido deposited him in the chair next to Kirishima and took the remaining chair, trapping him in place. A tray of food was deposited in front of him. Shouta wasn’t quite sure where it came from.

“Are you really Professor Aizawa?” Kaminari asked.

“I guess.”

 Bakugo snorted. “What kind of answer is that? Either you’re him or you’re not.”

“Well I’m not exactly a teacher yet. I’m pretty sure I’d need to remember taking the licensing exams for them to count.”

Shouta expected another explosion from Bakugo. Surprisingly, he scowled and turned away instead of starting a shouting match. Maybe he’d matured in the few days since he’d last let his temper take control. More likely, it was something Shouta had forgotten about his relationship with his apparent student.

“So you really lost your memories? How far back does it go?” Sero asked, and from there the questions kept coming.

They were basic things, mostly about his age and memories and life at school. Shouta answered them as succinctly as possible and ate his lunch whenever a question wasn’t worth answering. It was the most Shouta had spoken during any of the lunches. By the time lunch ended, Shouta was socially exhausted, and the conversation had mercifully drifted away from him.

“Don’t forget you still owe me another spar. I want that rematch!” Ashido said as they started cleaning up.

Shouta shrugged, and Ashido puffed up and poked him in the chest.

“I’ll find you after class! Don’t think I won’t!”

Shouta believed her. He found himself looking forward to it too. Ashido had been a good sparring partner, and doing nothing all day was tedious after a while. He ambled back towards Hizashi, who was waiting for him in the teachers’ section of the cafeteria. He was grinning, and his arm found its way around Shouta’s shoulders again.

“Look at you, being all social and bonding with your students! I’m so proud.”

That didn’t merit a response, and Shouta followed Hizashi back to the teachers’ lounge.

…

Ashido must have run through the hallways because she was knocking on the door seconds after class ended. She wasn’t alone either. Kirishima was with her, and Midoriya and Tsuyu were further back in the hallway, still catching up.

“You ready?” Ashido asked.

“Sure.”

Hizashi would be working for a few more hours, so Shouta had plenty of time to exhaust himself sparring. Ashido did most of the talking on the walk over, and Shouta ended up beside Midoriya. He wouldn’t have minded, except Midoriya wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was. He kept staring.

 “What?” Shouta asked, staring back.

Flustered, Midoriya immediately backpedaled. “It’s nothing, sorry! I was just wondering about your capture weapon. I figured you’d have replaced it by now, is all, and I was surprised to see you coming to spar without it. Or without it at all, you know.”

“I’m still learning how to use it.”

The capture weapon had been a product of the Support Department, and it had taken them months to find something that worked with his style instead of hindering it. The weapon’s tech included a clever amplification of his secondary Quirk, a tactile telekinesis so weak he’d always considered it useless. Midoriya seemed surprised at his answer.

“Oh, I figured you’d mastered it before the entrance exam! It hasn’t changed in a couple decades, and, with the robots, I figured the capture weapon was the best way for you to get points. I guess it’s still possible to pass without it, but wow that must’ve been-”

Shouta cut him off. “I didn’t get enough points,” he said.

All four students looked at him.

“Wait, what?” Midoriya said.

“I didn’t pass the physical exam. Taking down the robots by hand was too slow.”

Shouta hated that exam with a burning passion. He hadn’t been in a good place afterwards, with his hands torn to shreds by the metal and a pathetically low number of points to show for it. His grades and application had been strong enough to earn him a spot in the Gen Ed department, but that had been a bitter consolation prize at the time.

“I won the first-year Sports Festival and transferred from Gen Ed to the Heroes Course afterwards. It’s all public record.”

By the looks on all their faces, nobody in the class had bothered looking it up. All of them had Quirks well-suited to the Exam. He wondered if they’d spared a thought for its design, or if they’d just been excited about passing.

“That’s insane!” Ashido said. “I mean… you’re you! I can’t imagine you not being a Hero. The same thing happened with Shinsou too, and he’s, like, the perfect underground hero.”

“Maybe giant robots aren’t the best entrance exam,” Tsuyu said.

Shouta gave her his most unimpressed look. Of course a free for all against robots was a horrible test. Any singular exam would be, considering the scope of Quirks and types of Heroes. A bigshot Hero had vastly different skillsets than an Underground one. The test barely included strategic thinking at all and had nothing about mental or emotional suitability.

Shouta was saved from the awkwardness as they reached the gym.  Almost the entire class of 2-A was waiting for them.

Shouta glared at Ashido. “Really?” he said.

“What, people were interested! It’s not like sparring together was a secret. Plus, like, you’re normally this crazy strong Pro, and people are curious about what you were like at our age.”

Shouta looked back at the mob in front of the gym. He didn’t like crowds. Especially not crowds who were focused on him.  He wasn’t annoyed enough to walk away though, so he followed Ashido inside.

…

After the second hour, the sparring session devolved into various games and socialization. Shouta wasn’t interested in either, so he said his goodbyes and left. Hizashi was probably still in the teachers’ lounge, so he wandered back to the main building.

He took the long way around, meandering along the forested paths. Shouta wasn’t used to constantly being around people. Technically, he probably wasn’t supposed to be alone now, but he was happy to take advantage of it. Shouta didn’t let himself linger too long though; he didn’t want to make anyone worry, especially not Hizashi.

He wasn’t surprised to hear voices as he neared the main building. The walking trails were reasonably popular, after all. He was surprised to recognize Nemuri’s voice from around a bend.

“Hizashi, be honest with me.”

Shouta hesitated instead of revealing himself. Normally, he hated eavesdropping on private conversations, particularly serious ones. But this was Hizashi: a man who was equal parts stranger and his closest friend, and Shouta still had no idea how to act towards him. He heard Hizashi sigh.

“It’s still rough. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a lot better now that he’s here where I can keep an eye on him. It’s just… I miss my Shouta.”

Nemuri said something too low for him to understand, but he could hear its comforting cadence. Shouta wished he could see Hizashi’s face. Then again, hearing his voice like this was hard enough.

“What if it’s permanent? What am I supposed to do if I never get him back?”

Shouta didn’t wait for Nemuri’s response. He pushed away from the wall and back the way he’d come. He walked quickly back to the main building, and his feet took him past the teachers’ lounge without stopping. He followed the familiar path up to the roof.

He’d gone to the roof to be alone, so of course somebody was already there. Shinsou. His adult form’s mentee, apparently. Shouta hadn’t seen the teen since the ambush on Sunday. He meant to duck away, but the creaking door gave him away again. Shinsou looked over, and a tired smile spread across his face.

“I should’ve figured this was one of your favorite spots too. There’s plenty of room if you want to join.”

Shouta hesitated before accepting the invite. It was better than walking back to Hizashi or braving the public halls, at least. He expected Shinsou to start asking questions, but the other teen was blessedly silent. Shouta was surprised when he felt the urge to speak, and the words slipped out of him before he could stop them.

 “I’m not going back,” he said.

Shinsou turned to look at him, but Shouta kept his eyes on the horizon. Shinsou didn’t say anything, letting Shouta gather his thoughts.

“It feels like I’ll wake up and be back home, but that’s not going to happen. Time traveling Quirks don’t exist. Regression ones do. So one day, the Quirk will end, I’ll get his—my?—memories back, and that’ll be it.”

Learning he was affected by a Quirk had been a relief. So had the confirmation that his memories were real. It was the rest he wasn’t so sure about.

 “Don’t you want your memories back?” Shinsou asked.

“It doesn’t feel like anything’s missing.”

It felt like the world had changed, not him, and he wanted it to go back to normal. Except that really was impossible. Either the Quirk ended and the adult Shouta came back, or it didn’t and he had to start over again, fifteen years away from where he belonged.

Shouta’s new phone buzzed with a text. Hizashi, asking where he was.

“It’s Present Mic,” Shouta said, answering Shinsou’s curious look. “He must’ve heard that sparring ended.”

“Are you angry at him?”

Shinsou really was too insightful for his own good. Shouta took a moment to think before shaking his head. He couldn’t be upset that Hizashi missed his friend. Fifteen years was a lot of time to forget. Shouta missed his Hizashi too.

“It’s complicated,” Shouta said.

Shouta stood. Hizashi would worry if he stayed away much longer and, despite everything, Shouta would always try to avoid hurting him. As he was walking away, he heard Shinsou call out to him one more time.

“Is this such a bad future? Would you really want to go back and change it?” he asked.

Shouta’s mind flashed to the wedding ring on Hizashi’s finger. But that was a small thing and not his to regret. He thought about himself—Eraserhead, a powerful Pro Hero. About the students he’d clearly made an impact on, including a personal mentee: someone who, like him, had clawed his way into the Heroes course. About the friends he’s apparently accumulated and one fifteen-year, enduring friendship in particular.

“No,” Shouta said. “This is… It’s good.”

It felt like finding out he’d accomplished all his dreams, except he couldn’t remember it. None of it felt real. Shouta took a deep, calming breath as he walked back towards Hizashi and tried to put the thoughts out of mind. Whatever would happen, Shouta couldn’t do anything about it now. There was no point in worrying about it, though that was easier said than done.

Chapter Text

If there was one perk about being forced to follow Hizashi to the teachers’ lounge every morning, it was the quiet. That, and the free coffee. No rowdy teenagers to disturb him. No teachers demanding he pay attention. He could stay all morning under his desk, and nobody cared. Well, almost nobody.

Shouta cracked one eye open to glare at the older Hero staring down at him. Nemuri—Midnight—was smiling that obnoxious smile again. The one that meant she was bored with grading or whatever she’d been doing, and she was about to come over and bother Shouta again.

He was starting to question that Nemuri and his older self were really friends. Surely he’d have gone insane if he had to deal with her and Hizashi combined. Plus, Hizashi could never pull off a conniving smile like Midnight was wearing.

“So, I hear you’ve been staying with our resident gay—sorry, bi disaster. How’s that going for you?” Nemuri said.

“You’re talking about Hizashi?”

Nemuri laughed. “Who else? You can’t deny that boy is one heck of a disaster.”

He’d only properly known this Hizashi for around two days, but Shouta couldn’t argue. Hizashi was a competent Hero and a functional adult, but he was, and would always be, a disaster too. Earlier, they’d run out of any milk or creamer for coffee, and Shouta had noticed Hizashi eyeing some leftover mashed potatoes speculatively. A minute later, he’d come back to Hizashi dumping the rest of his cup into the trash. That had happened yesterday. With adult Hizashi, not the teenage one.

“It’s fine,” Shouta said.

Nemuri groaned and sprawled further across the desk. “Just ‘fine?’” she repeated. “C’mon, Shouta. You’ve got to give me more than that! Where’s the drama? The romance?”

Shouta froze. There was no way that Nemuri was referring to what Shouta thought she was. His stupid crush was supposed to disappear eventually. Sooner rather than later, preferably. It wasn’t supposed to linger into adulthood. He couldn’t imagine anything more pathetic than still pining for Hizashi as the other man really found someone and got married.

Nemuri reached forward to squish Shouta’s cheeks, and he wasn’t fast enough to avoid her.

“You are the cutest thing! It’s too bad you hide your expressions so well as an adult. I’d pay good money to see you blushing normally!”

Shouta felt his embarrassed blush grow as he batted Nemuri’s hands away. Nemuri let him go with one last pat to his head. “Don’t worry about it, alright? I promise it all works out for you.”

Even after Nemuri walked away, it took a while for Shouta’s face to return to normal. He stayed under his desk, half out of stubbornness and half to avoid interacting with Nemuri again. Eventually, lulled by the quiet and the promise of forgetting his problems for a while, Shouta fell back asleep.

He was woken up then the lounge door practically slammed open. Shouta blinked and halfheartedly twisted towards the sound, but the wooden frame of the desk blocked his view. He was about to roll over and fall back asleep when he recognized Hizashi’s voice saying something to another Hero.

If he wasn’t wrong—and Shouta had always been a fantastic judge of time—it was still the middle of third hour. Hizashi should still be teaching class.

He wasn’t quite willing to unzip his sleeping bag yet, but Shouta inched his way forward so he could peek around the side. It was indeed Hizashi. He was finishing speaking with another Hero—Ectoplasm—and started walking towards Shouta’s desk.

 “Aren’t you supposed to be teaching?” Shouta said once Hizashi was close enough.

Hizashi waved him off with a quick jerk of his hand. “Nemuri’s covering for me. The investigation found something.”

Shouta lurched upright and struggled free of the sleeping bag. “My investigation?” he said.

Hizashi nodded. “They think they caught the person who did this to you.”

…

The ride to the police station was tense. Shouta was monosyllabic, and Hizashi stopped talking halfway through. A quiet Hizashi was normally a very bad sign, but Shouta didn’t have the energy to draw him out of it.

A detective was waiting for them when they arrived. He seemed to know Hizashi. Shouta too, judging by the slightly baffled looks he was sneaking at him. He was a professional though, and he didn’t let the situation distract him for long. He caught them up on the situation as he led them deeper into the station.

“Her name is Reiko Morishita, 19 years old. She has a short rap list, mostly petty crime, and was brought in for breaking into an art museum last week. No known connections to organized crime. Her registered Quirk is Revitalize, the ability to repair and restore objects. With the new information on Eraserhead’s condition and the area where she was arrested, we think her Quirk may have been misregistered. She’s in exam room one if you want to ask your own questions.”

“You mind if I pay her a visit now?”

“Go ahead.”

The conversation was literally happening over Shouta’s head. Shouta spoke up before he could be left behind. “I’ll come with you,” he said.

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that,” the detective said. “Technically, without your memories, I shouldn’t be letting you back here at all. This is an unprecedented situation and I’m willing to make some exceptions, but you’re technically underage. I’ll let you back to observe, but I really can’t allow anything else.”

Shouta glared at the detective, but he had to admit the logic was sound. Just annoying.

“Fine,” he said.

They were led to a small room with a one-way mirror overlooking the interrogation room. There was only one person inside, handcuffed to the table. Morishita. Shouta glared at her through the glass. She looked normal enough, especially in the prison uniform. Her hair was short and dyed a riot of different colors, and she slouched in the chair as much as the cuffs allowed. She groaned when Hizashi entered the room.

“Again? Look, I’ve already answered all your questions ‘bout the art museum a dozen times over. I was drunk, it seemed like a good idea, yadda yadda. Don’t you guys have anything better to do?”

“I’m not here to talk about the break-in. I have some questions for you about your Quirk.”

It was subtle, but Shouta saw surprise flicker across Morishita’s face. Something like unease too, though it was gone so fast it might’ve been wishful thinking on his part.

“Pretty sure that’s all public record, Hero. It’s not like it has anything to do with this either, unless you think I took a detour to Revitalize some old paintings. Which, I’m not saying happened, but if I did you should be thanking me for sprucing up those old things.”

Hizashi’s lips twitched upward as he repressed a smile. Hizashi had a soft spot for old art and music. He’d probably have liked the teen for her art preservation efforts if she hadn’t turned her Quirk on a person afterwards.

“I told you, I’m not here about any paintings. I’m more interested in what happened after you left the gallery. You drew the attention of another Pro Hero, right? Eraserhead?”

This time, there was a definite twitch. She was getting nervous.

“I’ve never heard of the guy. If you think he knows so much, why isn’t he here instead?”

Shouta took a deep breath in and steadily released it. As if Morishita didn’t know what had happened. Hizashi didn’t seem fazed as he reached into his bag and pulled out a crisp sheet of paper. Shouta was too far away to read it, but he knew what it was: the official record for Morishita’s Quirk.

“We’re getting to that. You see, we have reason to believe you used your Quirk on him, and it says right here that your Quirk only works on inanimate objects. Now, I’m sure you know that attacking a Pro Hero and falsifying your Quirk record are both far more serious offenses than breaking and entering.”

The color drained from Morishita’s face. “Look, I’m not confirming anything! You’ve got no proof about any of this.”

She was starting to panic. Not good. The last thing they wanted was for her to shut down before they could get their answers. Hizashi leaned forward and smiled reassuringly, though Shouta could see the strain at its edges.

“Off the record then, alright? We won’t even punish you for the Quirk misuse. Just tell me how to undo it.”

Morishita hesitated. Miraculously, the panic seemed to be receding, replaced by surprise. She started to smile.

“Wait, you mean he hasn’t changed back yet? That’s what this is about? That’s wicked!”

The smile froze on Hizashi’s face, though he made a valiant effort to keep it going. “Look, kid, the more you tell us now, the easier it’ll be on you moving forward. Just answer the question.”

Morishita laughed. “He totally hasn’t! I dunno, man. It’s never lasted more than, like, a day before. People go to sleep at night, and bam! They wake up like normal.”

“Sleep,” Hizashi repeated. “Your Quirk is canceled out by sleep.”

Morishita shrugged. “I guess? I haven’t really thought about it that much. It’s not like I run around throwing my Quirk at people for shits and giggles. I just panicked when a random dude dropped from the rooftop and started chasing me. Have I mentioned I was really drunk?”

Shouta fought to keep his face impassive, and he saw Hizashi doing the same. What Shouta really wanted to do was bury his face in his hands and release the hysterical laughter building in his chest. Sleep. Of course sleep would fix this mess. Shouta didn’t think he’d gotten more than three hours at a time since waking up in the alleyway.

“How long do they have to stay asleep?” Hizashi asked.

Morishita shrugged again. “I dunno, all night? Most of it? It’s not like I’m standing over anyone with a pocket watch, waiting for the moment they pop back to normal. That would be creepy.”

Hizashi asked her a few other questions about her Quirk, but Shouta was barely listening. By the time Hizashi pulled out the paperwork for updating Quirk records, Shouta was itching to leave. He had to wait as Hizashi talked to the detective and other caseworkers, which, of course, Shouta wasn’t allowed to listen to. Finally, Hizashi returned, and they started back to UA.

“I guess I don’t need to ask how you’ve been sleeping lately,” Hizashi said.

Shouta shrugged.

“Can you give me some estimates? I’d like to know what we’re dealing with, you know?”

Shouta took a moment to think. He hadn’t been paying much attention to the timing either, but he could make a guess.

“I’ve been sleeping often but not for long. Usually not more than an hour at a time, but up to three. Always shallowly too, which is likely the problem.”

Shouta had slept the worst in the forest and best the past couple nights, when he had a real bed and some privacy. Eventually, he’d relax enough to get a normal night of sleep again. And, apparently, he’d wake up as an adult again.

Shouta wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

…

They grabbed lunch at a café and were back at UA in time for afternoon classes. The scarecrow man, Toshinori, was there. He glanced up at their entrance and smiled.

“Ah, young Aizawa! It’s good to see you again under better circumstances,” he said.

Shouta nodded. His gaze drifted to Toshinori’s side, where he’d hit the older Hero. He was standing normally again, but Shouta remembered how he’d looked hunched over with blood dripping down his face.

“You have the kids for combat training this afternoon, right?” Hizashi said. “What are your plans for the little parakeets today?”

“I’ll be taking them to Training Ground Gamma. Young Aizawa, you’re welcome to join us, if you wish. I know your class would be enthusiastic about training beside you.”

Shouta considered it for a moment. He had nothing else to do besides sit in the teachers’ lounge and brood, and the room was already starting to feel claustrophobic. After this morning, he’d prefer the distraction to being alone with his thoughts.

“Sure.”

Toshinori grinned and gave him a thumbs up. “Excellent! I’ll accompany you to the training grounds then. Do you need an extra uniform first?”

“This is fine.”

Shouta still didn’t know where Hizashi had found his clothes, but they met all his standards. Loose, comfortable, and easy to fight in. Hizashi seemed please by Shouta’s decision, but Shouta felt increasingly awkward as he walked across campus. He snuck a glance at Toshinori. The teacher was smiling and seemed completely recovered, but still. This wasn’t something he should ignore.

“Sorry about your side,” Shouta said.     

“Hmm? Oh, please don’t concern yourself with that. It was an old injury, and you didn’t do any damage.”

“You were coughing up blood,” Shouta said. And I left you alone, he didn’t.

“I’m afraid that’s normal for me. Chances are, you’ll see it again sometime soon, so don’t be alarmed.”

Shouta was already feeling alarmed, actually. Internal bleeding was a serious problem, and he didn’t like seeing it brushed off so casually. Still, the Hero would know his health better than Shouta, and it wasn’t his place to say anything.

When they arrived, a couple students were already there, chatting and stretching. Kaminari was with them, and he waved as they approached.

“All Might! Hi! And you brought Aizawa with you, that’s great!”

He continued talking, asking about Shouta’s participation and the training exercise, but Shouta wasn’t listening. He stared at Toshinori. At his prominent blonde bangs and the piercing blue of his eyes.

“All Might?” Shouta repeated.

Toshinori looked towards him. “My apologies! I suppose we were never properly introduced. I’m Yagi Toshinori, also known as All Might. You’re fifteen, yes? That would put you a few years after my debut.”

“You’re expected to take the number one spot next year,” Shouta said, reeling.

Toshinori—All Might—laughed. The laugh seemed bigger than his lanky frame could contain, and Shouta could definitely see the resemblance now.

“I’m retired from Heroes work now, I’m afraid! I did indeed hold the number one spot for most of my career. I had no idea you were a fan, young Aizawa.”

Shouta flushed and looked away. “It’s only logical to pay attention to current heroes.”

He wouldn’t call himself a fan exactly; that word brought to mind the swooning masses and people who viewed being a Hero as a game instead of the dangerous responsibility it was. Besides, All Might wasn’t his type of hero anyway; too loud, too indulgent of the spotlight, too much of a persona instead of a person. Still, he had to respect the strength and dedication of any Top Ten hero. Especially someone who’d climbed the ranks so quickly.

Most of the class was filtering in. They all stared at Shouta too, some more subtly than others. Shouta glared until they looked away. He’d hoped the class had gotten the staring out of their system during yesterday’s sparring session. Apparently not.

 “Fancy seeing you here. Are you joining us for training today?”

Shouta looked up to see Shinsou staring at him. The other teen was smiling. He still looked tired, but it was better than the last time they’d seen each other. He looked functional instead of like he could collapse any time.

“I didn’t have anything better to do,” Shouta said.

“In that case, I hope we get a proper match today. I’d enjoy seeing how our skills compare.”

Shouta inclined his head. He would enjoy a rematch as well. Their previous fight had been too short to get a proper feel for Shinsou’s skill, and he was curious. This was the student that his adult self had chosen to train, after all. Shouta had been impressed by what he’d seen so far, and he wanted to learn more.

Shinsou was still watching him, head tilted. Shouta couldn’t get a sense for what he was thinking.

“No hard feelings about the other fight?” Shinsou said.

“Of course not. You won fairly.”

Shinsou smiled, but there was a bitter edge to it. “I’m not sure ‘fair’ is the right word. I took advantage of your-”

Shouta cut him off, annoyed. “You used the tools available to you. Effectively too. Don’t apologize for being competent.”

Shinsou stared at him, surprised, before offering a much more genuine smile.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Toshinori—All Might, rather—called them to attention, and all twenty-one students converged around him. Shouta had met most of the class already, though there were a few faces he didn’t recognize from the cafeteria or the spars.  He was still drawing too much attention from them, though most of the students were at least trying to be professional and pay attention to their teacher.

“Alright! Welcome again to Training Ground Gamma! Now, you’ve all been here several times by now, but today we’ll be doing something different than usual. As the last week has shown, we’ve been neglecting a certain part of your training: tracking and stealth! So, we’ve devised a new combat simulation to encourage your skills!”

Iida threw his hand in the air. “Will our objective be to track Professor Aizawa? Clearly, even as a youth, he is the most competent at stealth and thus qualified to guide the exercise!”

All Might laughed the same booming laugh as before. “Not quite, young Iida! Aizawa will indeed be part of the stealth group, but he won’t be the only one.  Team 1 will be a group of four stealthy individuals, Aizawa included, whose goal is to remain undetected throughout the exercise. The rest of you will be trying to capture them!”

The invisible girl-Hagakure—waved her hand in the air. At least, that’s what Shouta thought she was doing. It was somewhat hard to tell, considering he couldn’t actually see her hands.

“Oh, can I be part of the stealth team? Please?”

“You can indeed! Team 1 will consist of Aizawa, Hagakure, Shinsou, and Jirou. I’ll leave you four to strategize! You’ll have ten minutes here and a five minute head-start before the other team is released. Oh, and one last thing! A bonus objective, if you will. I’ve hidden three flags inside the training ground. If your team can find them, you’ll get some extra credit for the exercise!”

An interested murmur broke up around the students. Extra credit was always a good incentive. Even Shouta was interested, though he wasn’t actually being graded. He’d always been competitive, and this was another way to win the exercise. The other students started gathering into their teams, and Shouta looked at his new teammates. Of them, he only properly knew Shinsou, though he remembered Hagakure from the spars.

“I know your Quirk and I can guess yours,” he said, looking at Shinsou and Hagakure respectively before turning to Jirou. “What can you do?”

“My Quirk is Earphone Jack. I can enhance sound and vibrations to listen in on others or, with my speakers, as an attack.”

Shouta nodded. Spying on their pursuers would be useful, and she would be their best ranged attacker. “So your attacks are similar to Present Mic’s?”

A flush crept along Jirou’s cheekbones, and she hid a small smile. “I’m not nearly as strong as the Voice Hero himself, but my speakers pack a pretty good punch.”

Part of Shouta wanted to call Jirou out on her clear admiration, because this was Hizashi. The guy who skipped class for days after a bad haircut, could yodel loudly enough to break glass, and tried using mashed potatoes as coffee creamer. He shouldn’t be qualified to be anyone’s role model.

Except, now he was also a popular, well established Hero. Someone with legitimate fans and, apparently, students who looked up to him. Strange.

“Let’s plan this out,” Shouta said. “We have the advantage on the field, but we’ll need a good strategy to win against the rest of the class.”

Training Ground Gamma was a maze of factories and pipelines that strongly favored stealth and mobility, but it wouldn’t make up for the discrepancy in team size. Jirou drew a basic outline of the training ground on the ground, and Shouta was pleased to find they all had a decent memory for the area. Too many people ignored their surroundings until it became important, and by then it was often too late.

“We’ll need to keep moving,” Jirou said. “With thirty minutes, they’ll have plenty of time to do thorough sweeps. We should split up—groups of two will probably be best—but it’ll be a challenge to avoid them all.”

The others were nodding along, but Shouta kept staring at the map. Maybe they could stay hidden, but the time limit would make it difficult. There were too many Quirks in play to account for all of them, and once someone was found their pursuers would converge immediately. The more Shouta thought about it, the more he found himself tired of hiding. It was time to switch things up a bit.

“What if we didn’t?” Shouta said. When he had their attention, he tapped on the map. “Jirou’s right. Against seventeen people, we’re at a disadvantage, no matter how well we can conceal ourselves. So let’s try something else.”

He let a smile stretch over his face, and nobody flinched away from its bloodthirsty edges. Good. “The best defense is a good offense, right? Nobody on their team will expect us to ambush them first. If we can thin out their numbers—especially their heavy hitters—we’ll have a much better chance.”

Officially, their objective was to survive the exercise without getting caught. Shouta had his own goal in mind. He wanted to take out every single opponent before time ran out. He’d always been competitive, and he wanted to win.

…

AN: You know, I probably shouldn’t be allowed to make OCs because I get attached way to easily! So, here you go: Reiko Morishita, the mysterious Quirk user. A drunken teenager who broke into an art museum to fix the paintings and then accidentally used her Quirk on a person too. Shouta was only there to lecture a stupid teen; he was not expecting all this drama to result.

Her Quirk is permanent on inanimate objects, btw, and she can reverse its stage longer than 15 yrs depending on its size/complexity. Eventually, she’ll open her own, popular salvage/antiques shop and do art restoration on the side.

Also, a thank you to K'lol for the mashed potatoes idea. I am horrified.

Chapter Text

Shouta watched the group approach from the shadows between two buildings, where the pipes ran so thickly that it was almost impossible to see the small niche they formed. The training ground was littered with these tiny hiding spots, and Shouta knew where every single one was. Clearly, this class, just like his old one, hadn't bothered to learn their surroundings half so thoroughly.

It had taken five casualties--including their main strategists, Yaoyorozu and Midoriya--for their opponents to realize they were under attack, but now they had grouped up into defensive teams. Though, not all of the teams were functional.

Kirishima and Bakugo were a complementary pairing, but he wasn’t sure what unfortunate twist of fate—or poor decision making—had paired Aoyami with them. Bakugo used his Quirk to search the upper reaches of the area as he completely ignored his teammates. Kirishima kept pace below, but Aoyama kept falling behind every time his Quirk timed out. From a distance, Shouta could see the strain on Aoyama as he tried to keep up. He wasn't built for endurance, and his teammates didn’t know—or care—enough to compensate. It was a bad matchup, and one that Shouta was thoroughly prepared to take advantage of.

He lingered in his corner as Bakugo passed by and heard Kirishima do the same from below. Aoyama soared past several seconds later, and Shouta Erased his Quirk.

Shouta enjoyed using his Quirk on people in the air. It made that moment of surprise all the sweeter as they plummeted to the ground.

Aoyama yelp as he fell and barely managed to twist and soften the landing. Shouta immediately dove out of his hiding spot; the team was dysfunctional, but they weren't stupid. He didn’t have much time.

Aoyama was just picking himself up from the ground when Shouta barreled towards him from above. He had just enough time to scream and shield his face before Shouta hit him. He grabbed Aoyama's outstretched arms, wrapped the capture tape around them, and was off before Kirishima even noticed his teammate was down.

"Hey, stop!" Kirishima shouted, but Shouta was already back in the piping and gaining distance. The distant sounds of explosions and cursing started soon after, but Shouta quickly lost them in the maze.

This wasn't like Sunday; his opponents didn't have cameras helping them out. When the sounds of pursuit faded behind him, he knew they were really gone.

Shouta felt himself grinning as he indulged in some time to catch his breath. He enjoyed straightforward spars and testing himself in combat, but there was nothing quite as satisfying as ending a fight before his opponent realized it had begun.

He was more careful when he started moving again. He'd left Kirishima and Bakugo behind, but there were other groups still searching through the training grounds. Part of him wanted to search them out and see if there were more mistakes he could take advantage of, but he was running low on time. Already, they were nearly halfway through the exercise, and it was time for another check-in.

…

Jirou, Shinsou, and Hagakure were waiting for him when Shouta swung through the window of their temporary hideout. Jirou had her earjack plugged into the other wall, listening carefully, and Shinsou waved as Shouta latched the window behind him. Hagakure, thankfully, had her Hero costume set to visible for their meeting.

“Any update?” Shouta asked.

“Kaminari is out! I ran into him on the trip over. You should’ve heard the way he screamed!” Hagakure said, delighted. Hagakure was wholeheartedly embracing the training exercise, and she’d revealed an unexpectedly sadistic side while stalking her classmates. Shouta was suitably impressed.

“I hit Aoyama too, so there’s ten left now. That’s not bad odds,” Shouta said, and the other nodded. Seven people down, and they hadn’t lost a single person yet. They’d even found two of the three flags. The exercise was going better than Shouta had expected. Much better.

“Quiet!” Jirou said, and the room froze.

A tense minute passed, then two. Nobody moved until Jirou gave the all-clear and unplugged her earjack from the wall.

“They found the last flag,” Jirou said.

“Well, shit,” Shinsou said. “Let me guess: they’ve set up a guard around it.”

Jirou nodded. “Todoroki, Shoji, and Ashido. Uraraka and Sero were debating how far away they should patrol and whether we’ll risk attacking head-on.”

“Not yet,” Shinsou said. He leaned forward and, with the dust and debris on the floor, he sketched out a basic map.

“We should take out as many of the patrols as possible before going after the flag. Uraraka and Sero are patrolling here. The three guarding the flag are probably around here, so that leaves five more. Iida is likely on his own; a partner would only slow him down. That leaves Kirishima, Bakugo, Oujiro and Tsuyu.. I want to handle Bakugo and Kirishima. Any objections?”

Shouta looked at the map and back at Shinsou. “Just one. I’m coming with you. If we’re going to risk attacking head-on, we should stay in teams.”

Shinsou sounded like he had a plan, and Shouta didn’t mind playing support. He and Shinsou would work well together, and Jirou and Hagakure were a good combo too. Both were good at information gathering, and Jirou would make a good distraction as Hagakure snuck closer.

“Jirou and I can head east and handle whoever we find first,” Hagakure said.

“Good. We can meet at the South edge afterwards. If we have enough time, we can go after any remaining patrols. Otherwise, we’ll aim for the flag.”

He looked around, searching for any discontent or objections to the plan, and found none.

“Let’s go.”

…

Shouta let Shinsou lead as they crept closer to their targets. They weren’t hard to find. Bakugo, of course, didn’t bother keeping his voice down. He shouted at Kirishima for updates and cursed out the buildings when they revealed empty rooms instead of opponents. For an exercise that supposedly relied on stealth, he seemed to be struggling.

Shouta followed Shinsou’s lead as they crept closer. They hung behind for a few minutes, waiting for some unknown signal. Shinsou motioned him forward when Kirishima disappeared inside one of the buildings, leaving Bakugo behind.

Shinsou quietly cleared his throat. Then he called out in a near-perfect imitation of Kirishima’s voice.

“Hey, Bakugo. Did you hear that?”

“Hear what, you-”

Bakugo fell silent. Shouta didn’t need to see him to know he’d fallen slack in the manner of anyone under Shinsou’s Quirk.

In his normal voice, Shinsou said, “Go capture Kirishima. Surprise him. When he’s down, tie yourself up next.”

Bakugo jumped down to the ground floor and ran into the building. A moment later, he heard Kirishima’s voice then a yell then nothing. Shouta waited another few moments before leaving their hiding spot. Kirishima was laying on the ground, staring in shock at the capture tape around his wrists. He hadn’t even had time to activate his Quirk. Beside him, Bakugo was quietly wrapping the capture tape around himself. He finished and stared blankly into space, still caught under Shinsou’s Quirk.

Bakugo blinked, and the fog cleared. He immediately focused on Shinsou, who was grinning smugly, and his confusion turned to fury.

"You! When I fucking get my hands on you, I'm gonna-" Bakugo started, struggling to his feet despite the capture tape thoroughly wrapping his limbs together. His hands sparked.

"I didn't realize using your Quirk was considered cheating," Shouta said. "You're not going to do anything now either; you're officially out of the exercise."

Bakugo roared something exceedingly vulgar and looked like he was about to ignore the exercise and attack anyway. Shouta tensed, wary of things getting ugly—and more than a little angry that the kid would throw away the rules over a temper tantrum—but Kirishima interrupted first.

“Relax, Bakugo, it’s too late now. Let’s head to the tower to watch the rest, and you can get them back next time.”

Bakugo glared at them and seemed to seriously consider ignoring Kirishima and all common sense to attack them anyway. Apparently he had some modicum of self-control, because he allowed Kirishima to grab his arm and guide him away, even if he kept grumbling curses under his breath.

“Sadly, that’s an improvement over his first year,” Shinsou muttered as they started back towards the rendezvous point. “He’s been working on his impulse control.”

“That’s terrifying.”

Shinsou shrugged, and Shouta pushed Bakugo and his myriad of problems out of his mind. They were running low on time, and there was still more that needed done. As they walked, something twinged in Shouta’s stomach. He motioned for Shinsou to stop and started scanning the area around them. He trusted his instincts, and right now they were saying something was wrong. For once, the training ground was working against him. There were too many shadows, too many hiding spots, and he couldn’t-

Shouta heard the attack coming behind him, but he wasn’t fast enough to dodge. Tape wrapped around his wrist, and he was thrown through the air. He managed to get his feet under him for the landing just in time to see a fist flying towards his face.

He blocked the attack, but the flurry of blows that followed kept him off-balance. One punch skimmed past his arm, brushing against his sleeve, and suddenly Shouta was weightless. Too late, Shouta recognized his opponent: Uraraka, with her zero gravity Quirk.

Shouta tipped forward, disoriented, as his feet left the ground. Uraraka grabbed his wrist, and Shouta felt something soft touch his wrist. The capture tape.

Shouta grit his teeth and twisted, ignoring the intense disorientation. He oriented himself around Uraraka instead and flung himself away, ripping the tape free before it could tighten. The motion sent him spiraling into the empty air. The world spun around him in a meaningless blur, but at least he was away from Uraraka.

His foot clipped something, and then Shouta slammed shoulder-first into a wall. He scrabbled against the surface until his fingers brushed against a window, and he held on.  The ground was above his head and tilted oddly. Shouta felt nauseous just looking at it, but he could hear fighting. Shinsou was still there, and he was outnumbered.

Uraraka and Sero tag teamed Shinsou, and he was losing. Uraraka hadn’t managed to tag Shinsou, but she was engaging him close-up while Sero sent ribbons of tape at his limbs. Shinsou wasn’t talking anymore; all his attention was focused on dodging the two opponents.

Shouta focused on Uraraka and prepared to activate Erasure but thought better of it. Instead, he carefully angled himself then pushed off the building. He hit the neighboring building harder than he intended, but he was closer to the fight. He pulled himself from window to window, using every handhold and indent he could find, and he ignored the disorienting tilt of the world around him

Two things happened at once: Shouta reached the spot above Sero’s head, and Uraraka finally got a good hold on Shinsou and suplexed him into the ground. Shouta Erased Uraraka’s Quirk, and he was prepared as gravity reasserted itself and he landed on Sero. Sero crumpled underneath him, and Shouta wrapped the capture tape around his arms before he could recover. By the time he looked up, Uraraka had Shinsou tied up too.

She released Shinsou’s arms and put her hands up in her battle stance. Shouta did the same. Uraraka wasn’t at his or Ashido’s level, but she was one of the better close-combat fighters in the class. He needed to be careful, especially with her Quirk.

He waited for Uraraka to charge before activating Erasure and meeting her attack. They traded blows, and Shouta stayed on the defensive. Uraraka’s Quirk was dangerous up close, but he could deflect her if he was careful. He needed to conserve energy. Eventually, Uraraka would make a mistake. Shouta could wait her out.

Finally, she overextended her reach, and Shouta grabbed her hand and flipped her. Uraraka curled to soften her collision with the ground, but it wasn’t enough. Shouta wrapped the capture tape around her, and the fight was over.

Shouta rolled to the side and lay there, panting. They were half an hour into the exercise, and he was feeling every minute of it.

“Ah, we were so close! Good job,” Uraraka said, pushing her way back upright. “How many is that now, nine?”

“At least eleven. Maybe thirteen. We took out Bakugo and Kirishima earlier.”

Uraraka looked delighted enough for Shouta to wonder if there was some rivalry there, but Shouta pushed the thought aside for later. Right now, he needed to focus on the exercise.

“Sorry, Aizawa. I guess you guys are down to three now,” Shinsou said.

Shouta just shrugged. It was inevitable they lost someone, especially after the others caught on to their strategy. So long as Jirou and Hagakure were still in the game, they had a chance. He’d wasted enough time recovering, so Shouta stood and stretched out his cramping muscles. Shinsou waved as Shouta set off again, and he glimpsed the three defeated classmates gathering together as they left.

He was close to the meeting point, and he didn’t run into any more trouble before arriving. He landed silently on the roof.

“Hi,” Hagakure said behind him, and Shouta jumped. He turned around, but of course nobody was there.

“Jirou’s down below. I’m up here to play lookout,” Hagakure said, from his side this time. Shouta hadn’t heard her move, and he didn’t wait for her before swinging through their window.

Jirou looked up as he entered. She frowned when he entered alone.

“Did Shinsou get caught?” she asked.

Shouta nodded. “Bakugo and Kirishima are out, but we ran into Uraraka and Sero on our way back. They’re both gone too, but Uraraka took Shinsou with her.”

He sank to the ground beside Jirou, and he wasn’t surprised when he turned around to see Hagakure standing where he’d been a moment before. She’d set her costume back to visible for the conversation.

“We took down Tsuyu and Oujiro! So that’s only four left now: Iida, Shoji, Todoroki, and Ashido. Not bad!” Hagakure said. If Shouta could see her face, he was sure she’d be smiling.

Unfortunately, Shouta felt obligated to be the voice of reason before they jumped into another fight.

“They’ll be expecting us this time; we’re not controlling the battleground anymore. So you remember, we’re not obligated to attack. There’s less than fifteen minutes left, and they don’t have the numbers to smoke us out anymore. If our only objective is to survive, we could easily hide now and wait out the clock.”

Shouta met each of their eyes, and he wasn’t surprised to find borderline mutinous rejection at his suggestion. They’d come so far; they all wanted to see if they could complete their self-assigned mission: eliminating the other team. Shouta smiled.

“Let’s finish this.”

…

Perched on one of the taller buildings, Shouta had a good view of the battlefield. The other team had chosen well. It was in one of the few clearings in the training field, and someone—likely Todoroki—had cleared out the piping to further expand the area. Shoji sat in the middle, listening intently, with the flag practically in his lap. Todoroki stood behind him, and Ashido was patrolling around the clearing.

Shouta was as close as he could get without revealing himself, and he waited, muscles tense, for the signal. The seconds ticked by slowly until a destructive blast of sound ripped through the clearing. Jirou’s speakers.

It was different than Hizashi’s. Pulsating, and without the undertone of Hizashi’s voice. The effect was the same: staggers all around and hands clasped over ears. Shouta activated his Quirk. He targeted Todoroki, who was lunging forward with his hand upraised. His eyes widened when nothing happened, and he spun around, scanning the surrounding buildings.

Shouta gave him something to look at. He maintained eye contact as he jumped down and ran at the group. Todoroki and Ashido turned to face him, but Shoji was still curled on the ground, clutching at his head. The extra ears on his arms had all vanished, leaving bare skin behind.

Only Shouta noticed as capture tape appeared out of nowhere and wrapped around Shoji’s main arms, pulling them together before Shoji could even shout. A moment later, the flag seemed to float before disappearing altogether as Hagakure tucked it under her costume.

Todoroki and Ashido glanced back to see Shoji on the ground. Ashido cursed. They shared a glance, and Todoroki veered back while Ashido ran to meet him. Shouta kept his Quirk focused on Todoroki for as long as possible, but once Ashido reached him he couldn’t afford the distraction. Ashido was too good for Shouta to split his attention, and she was only more dangerous with access to her Quirk.

Jirou deactivated her Quirk to avoid friendly fire, and the silence was deafening. As Shouta fended Ashido off, he felt a blast of cold from his side. Todoroki had frozen the ground of the clearing, trying to smoke Hagakure out. He heard something clatter-Hagakure, scrambling upward to avoid getting trapped.

Shouta tried to push past Ashido to help, but Ashido didn’t let him. Shouta cursed. Todoroki was a bad matchup for Hagakure, but he couldn’t handle the two at once either. He needed to end this quick, but he and Ashido were too evenly matched.

Jirou came to the rescue. A burst of sound tore through the clearing, missing Shouta but hitting Todoroki head-on. It shattered the ice covering the ground, and Todoroki stumbled, clutching his ears. The sound cut off abruptly several seconds later, and he heard Jirou shout.

Iida. He was still wandering around, and they knew his interference was likely. He must have caught up to Jirou.

A hand tapped Shouta’s shoulder, and he carefully didn’t react. A moment later, Ashido stumbled forward as her leg was swept from under her by an invisible force, and Shouta forced her the rest of the way to the ground. He pinned her with the capture tape and looked up with just enough time to dodge the spear of ice shooting towards him.

Todoroki was keeping his distance—smart of him—and Shouta could hear engines rapidly drawing closer. Shouta activated Erasure and sprinted towards Todoroki. With his Quirk Erased, Shouta could overpower Todoroki, but not easily. Todoroki deflected his momentum, but Shouta pushed him backwards. He almost had him overbalanced when he heard Iida’s engines flare, and Shouta had to break away to avoid the speedy teen.

The next minute tested Shouta to the limit. Whenever he went after Todoroki, Iida would rev his engines and shoot towards him If he Erased Iida’s Quirk, then Todoroki was free to surround them in ice. Shouta was shaking from the effort of avoiding their attacks, and a migraine built behind his eyes. He was overusing his Quirk by switching between targets so quickly, and the fight dragged on. Iida and Todoroki were careful not to overextend themselves; they just needed to wait Shouta out now.

It was a relief to feel Hagakure tap on his shoulder again.

“Can you lead Iida to the left of that pole?” she whispered.

Shouta glanced at the structure in question and gave the slightest nod. Hagakure was gone a moment later, and the next time Iida lunged at him, Shouta dodged closer. It took a few tries before he had Iida in position. Something long and thin glistened on the ground between them. Then Todoroki shot another line of ice towards him, Shouta Erased it, and Iida ran forward.

The rope hidden on the ground suddenly drew taunt with one end tied around the pole and the other hovering seemingly in mid-air. It snapped as Iida hit it, but Iida tumbled to the ground. Shouta saw capture tape reappear as Hagakure ran forward, and Shouta left Iida to her as he ran towards Todoroki.

He was exhausted, but Shouta pushed on. One more. Just one more, and they’d finally be finished. His form was sloppy, but it was enough. He knocked Todoroki down, grabbed the capture tape, and it was over.

Shouta collapsed to the ground nearby, panting hard.  He looked over to see that Iida was also down.

“Hey, Hagakure? You there?” Shouta said.

A few feet away, Hagakure’s costume faded back into sight. “Yeah. Are you alright?”

Shouta nodded. “Just tired. You have the flag, right?”

Hagakure pulled all three flags out from her costume and twirled them around. “We have all three flags, and we’re the last players standing. We did it!”

Shouta sagged as the tension finally released him and was replaced by a near-giddy sense of relief. He smiled, and a small laugh escaped him.

“Yeah. We won.”

He was still smiling when All Might announced the end of the exercise, and everyone started picking themselves up and walking over to the observation deck.

“You sneak!” Ashido shouted, and a pink blur barreled towards them. She collided with Hagakure, who laughed and spun her around before setting her back down on her feet. Ashido kept one arm looped around Hagakure’s shoulder as she pointed a finger at Shouta.

“Don’t you think this counts as one of our spars! I call interference!”

“How can there be interference when it was a group fight to begin with?”

Ashido walked closer to shake her finger in Shouta’s face. Instead of releasing Hagakure, Ashido dragged her along. Judging by all the giggling, Hagakure didn’t mind.

“Don’t you use logic on me!”

Shouta shrugged. “Alright.”

Ashido paused with her finger still in the air, looking remarkably confused. Hagakure kept laughing until Ashido pushed her away, hiding a smile.

“The betrayal! How could my own girlfriend take his side like this? I demand recompense!”

Shouta snorted and turned away from the spectacle. They were falling behind the others, and he left Hagakure and Ashido to Iida, who was already marching towards them to lecture them about their tardiness.

Shouta left them to it as he ambled away. It had been a difficult fight and a satisfying win, and he almost never trained alongside people whose fighting styles and Quirks complemented him so well. With his class, group exercises had almost always been an exercise in frustration and futility. At least he and Hizashi had always made a good team, but there was a limit to the kind of strategies that worked for them both.

When he arrived at the observation deck, Shouta automatically tried to take his normal space at the back of the room. What felt like half the class stopped him. They congratulated him and pulled him forward until he was standing near the front along with the rest of his team. Shouta would have preferred being allowed to fade into the background, but this wasn’t bad. Especially with his teammates—good teammates, even—by his side.

…

When the review ended and Shouta reached the teachers’ lounge, he immediately collapsed into his sleeping bag and fell asleep. He was exhausted, and he wanted nothing more than to forget the world existed for a couple hours to recuperate. The sleeping bag was too large for him, so Shouta burrowed deeper into it until not even his face stuck up through the head hole. He was completely encased in the soft fabric.

An hour later, Shouta woke to somebody poking his head. Shouta grumbled and scooted deeper into the sleeping bag, and he heard Hizashi laugh.

“Go away. ‘M tired,” Shouta said, but Hizashi just kept laughing.

“C’mon, little caterpillar. Classes are over for the day, which means it’s that time when you and I have to shimmy on home.”

Shouta uncurled slightly, intrigued, but he didn’t leave his nest quite yet. Going back to the apartment was a tempting offer. He had a real futon there plus a cat to keep him company. Except leaving would mean braving the outdoors and walking again, and Shouta wasn’t sure he was prepared for that kind of effort.

“I’ll carry you if you don’t get moving soon!”

Shouta clawed his way up and out of the fabric, fumbling for the zipper. Being carried by Hizashi had been bad enough the first time, when he’d ben tied up. He refused to put on a repeat performance, especially during a school day when other teachers and students would be around to watch the indignation.

Hizashi kept laughing as Shouta freed himself and rolled up the sleeping bag.

“So I heard the training exercise went well today!”

“It was a good idea. All Might was right about most of the class needing to work on stealth. Every one of them has potential at least, so they’re better than our class was,” Shouta said.

He’d noticed it the first time he saw the class train, but today’s training exercise had pounded it home. This class had made mistakes. Plenty of the students had been poorly suited to this kind of training. Yet, they’d all fought hard, and every one of them had shown some spark that made Shouta think they could make it as a Hero. Shouta’s class had been the same age, but he couldn’t say the same about most of his classmates. Aside from Hizashi, he hadn’t heard anything about them either, not in his research, the news or any conversations.

“What happened to our class?” Shouta asked.

Hizashi’s steps hitched for a moment before he smoothed them back out. “C’mon, Shou, that’s not the best-”

“Hizashi. Tell me.”

Already, he was getting uneasy. Hizashi was trying to avoid the question, and Shouta hated being left in the dark. Hizashi sighed and tugged at his hair, but the quality of the silence changed. He was organizing his thoughts, not searching for an excuse anymore. His voice was quiet when he spoke.

“Most of us made it to graduation. Fourteen, to be exact. We had a few drop outs, a few expulsions, though not as many as there probably should have been.”

Silently, Shouta agreed. Professor Nedzu had been a good teacher and Hero, but he’d never seen particularly invested in their class either. He helped them, ensured they passed the minimum requirements, and left the class to handle the rest as they pleased. A few of his classmates had enough intrinsic motivation to push themselves anyway, but not enough. He wasn’t surprised that attitude had persisted the remaining years at UA.

“What happened after graduation?”

Hizashi hesitated a moment before continuing.

“The UA reputation meant we all managed some kind of position, mostly as sidekicks or trainees at larger agencies. You know what that’s like. They’re careful with the newbies, but it’s still dangerous. Especially for anyone who’s unprepared.”

“Something happened?”

Hizashi nodded. “Katou and Lee died that first year during a large-scale attack in Kazamino. That disaster—along with the realities of life as a real Hero—scared more of the class out. By the time we qualified for independent work, only six of us were left.”

Hizashi fell silent, and Shouta was grateful for the chance to collect his thoughts. Two people dead. His classmates, even if he’d barely known them. And… only six left? Six was small, even for UA. Most graduating classes included at least ten students, and it was rare for UA graduates to abandon the industry. UA had its reputation for a reason, after all, and the quality of its graduates was a large part of it. His class had been an outlier.

He never spared much thought for most his classmates, let alone their future. He hadn’t cared enough. Shouta… couldn’t quite say he regretted it. But the memories felt different now that he knew how it had ended. Most of them, anyway.

“We’re the first two Heroes. What about the other four?”

“Nothing bad! Tomoe lost a leg and retired a couple years back, and Kamijo switched to Support. Sakura and Miki are still active though; they’re a pretty successful Hero Duo over in Mitakihara Town. We stay in touch every so often, but it’s been a few years since we last worked together.”

 Shouta nodded. Four, then, who were still Heroes. Him, Hizashi, and two others. Shouta hadn’t known Sakura or Miki well, but he remembered they two had been friends and near the top of the class. He wasn’t surprised they’d succeeded. He just hadn’t been pessimistic enough to imagine they’d be the only other ones.

Hizashi let him wallow in his thoughts for another minute before interrupting him.

“Hey, there’s no need to be quite so doom and gloom! Sure, not many of us ended up as heroes, but it’s not like their lives ended with their careers. Akemi and Kaname got married and opened a flower shop after leaving the industry, and they’ve done pretty well for themselves!”

It was harder for Shouta to remember Akemi and Kaname. They’d been more driven than most of the class, but there’d been something softer in them too. A flower shop suited them. The mental image brought a small smile to Shouta’s face, which Hizashi took as a victory.

He kept chatting, telling Shouta about more of their classmates and what they’d gotten into after abandoning the Heroes industry. The stories were cheerful enough, which Hizashi seemed to be doing deliberately to raise the mood. Shouta wondered if there were more, sadder stories that Hizashi was ignoring. Now wasn’t the right time to ask though. He was enjoying hearing Hizashi ramble, and Hizashi seemed to be enjoying himself. Eventually, Shouta sked a question that had been confusing him for a while.

“Hey, Hizashi? What made us decide to become teachers?”

Hizashi smiled, and Shouta knew he’d hit on a good topic.

“You can’t blame me for that one! The teaching thing is aaaaaall on you.”

“That doesn’t sound like me.”

Shouta wasn’t doubting Hizashi, but really? Hizashi, at least, liked crowds and tutoring people. Shouta ended up wanting to strangle everyone around him instead. He could still barely imagine being a teacher, let alone pulling Hizashi into it instead of vice versa. Hizashi just kept laughing though.

“Hey, it’s the truth! You got all motivated after Nedzu was chosen as UA’s Principal. Don’t get me wrong; the guy’s crazy smart, of course, and he’s been great for the school. He’s a much better Principal than teacher! Then you were talking ‘bout getting involved and making sure the students didn’t get overlooked. Of course I couldn’t let you go alone!”

Shouta blinked, considered it, and decided that Hizashi’s explanation made sense. Hizashi got a familiar, mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You know, you’ve broken a few records yourself in the time you’ve been teaching.”

“Hmm?”

“In the five years you’ve been teaching, you’ve won the award for the most students expelled! It’s pretty impressive, really. Though, it seems like you might lose your title with this bunch. It’s already their second year, and you have a full class! With the last batch, you were already down to four by this point.”

“Four?”

“Yeah. It was an unlucky batch. You blamed some—or one, at least—of the guest proctors at the exam for letting some of those in. Seven made it to graduation, but they were a darn good seven!”

That, at least, Shouta could believe. He still had trouble imaging himself as a teacher, but of course he’d never tolerate students who refused to take being a Hero seriously and didn’t deserve to be at UA. Still…

“Something seems wrong with that math.”

“Ah, but that’s because you’re not thinking about the transfers! Since so few of the originals lasted, you ended up taking in several transfers. You lobbied for it pretty hard too, and it worked out! Most of the graduates were your picks, and they’re all doing well for themselves.”

That was… good. The measure of a successful student was in how they did after graduation, after all. Seven was low though, and apparently he’d expelled at least eighty percent of the original students. Huh.

“Did the people I expelled deserve it?”

“Definitely. You’ve got a knack for picking out which students lack potential, who needs a good kick to the rear, and which ones would be happier somewhere else. You even have other first year teachers consulting you on their difficult students!”

Shouta smiled, pleased. Teaching still sounded like a miserable decision but, if he had to do it, at least he was good at it. Hizashi had plenty of teaching stories to share, which lasted them all the way back to their apartment

…

An hour lately, Shouta kept eyeing the bedroom door. Hizashi had been there for over an hour already, ever since they’d returned home. Shouta hadn’t heard any movement for a while. He eyed the cracked door, debating. He hadn’t been inside the bedroom yet. It felt too invasive. Shouta could admit, at least to himself, that he didn’t want to find signs of another person sharing the room. The thought of Hizashi’s partner still left a sour taste in his mouth, which he was ignoring as best he could.  Mostly through denial.

Eventually, boredom won out.

“Hizashi?” Shouta called, creeping closer to the bedroom door. No response.

Shouta knocked on the door and waited. He pushed it open. As he’d expected, Hizashi was sprawled across a large bed, snoring softly. He’d changed out of his costume and was wearing his casual clothes, like he’d barely gotten changed before collapsing atop the bed.

Shouta hadn’t noticed it before, but there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked exhausted. Shouta considered leaving him to sleep, but Hizashi would be frustrated if he disrupted his sleep cycle too badly.

“Hey. Wake up,” Shouta said from a respectful distance.

Hizashi make a muffled noise but didn’t move. Still asleep.

Shouta took in the rest of the room. At first glance, he didn’t see any signs of Hizashi’s mysterious spouse. The room was almost as clean as the rest of the apartment, and the only personal touches practically screamed Hizashi, like the sheet music hanging on the wall. Shouta told himself it didn’t matter, but a jealous voice in his chest was relieved.

Shouta called Hizashi’s name again, but he just grumbled and curled further into the blankets. For a man who disliked naps—blasphemy, in Shouta’s opinion—he was rather hard to shake out of them. Shouta smiled and moved closer, intending to shake Hizashi awake. Except… there was a picture frame on the bed stand, turned towards the bed.

Shouta tried to ignore it. He didn’t want to know. He really didn’t want to put a face to Hizashi’s partner or see more proof of their relationship. He’d be much happier if he kept quietly pretending they didn’t exist. Yet, almost against his will, Shouta moved closer. He turned the picture frame towards him

It was… them?

Shouta’s face stared back at him. He looked several years older, though noticeably younger than current photos. That wasn’t what made his thoughts screech to a halt. No, that would be Hizashi, flush against Shouta’s side and kissing his cheek.

“What the hell?” Shouta whispered.

He picked the picture frame up and looked closer, as if that would change the image. They were holding hands and standing on a beach. They both looked ridiculously happy.

He hadn’t noticed before, but there was a shallow bowl sitting beside where the picture had been. Two rings were inside. Shouta recognized Hizashi’s wedding ring immediately, and there was a matching ring beneath it. One for Hizashi, one for… for him?

“Shouta?”

Shit. Hizashi was awake. Shouta was not emotionally prepared for this.

Hizashi stirred on the bed, rubbing at his eyes. He looked confused as he stared up at Shouta. His gaze landed on the photograph in Shouta’s hand

“Ah. Alright, then,” he said, sitting up. “Shouta, are you freaking out?”

“No.”

Shouta hurriedly set the photograph back on the bed stand. His face was burning furiously, and he could feel the blush spreading down his neck.

“I can tell when you’re lying,” Hizashi said.

Shouta shrugged and looked away. He wasn’t sure he could look at Hizashi just then anyway. Not without his brain literally melting.

“Well, c’mon then.  I’ll heat up some tea, and we can talk this out.”

Shouta nodded and kept his eyes firmly on the floor as he followed Hizashi into the living room. Hizashi was acting completely normally as he heated up the tea kettle, which made sense, he supposed. Hizashi must’ve had years to get used to being married. To Shouta. Whose hopeless crush was suddenly seeming far less impossible than he’d always assumed.

“Sorry about keeping all that a secret. With everything going on, we were trying not to overwhelm you or make things weird.”

Hizashi handed him a cup of tea, which Shouta accepted with numb hands. He still couldn’t look Hizashi in the eye, but he heard him sigh. Hizashi was quiet for a few moments, and his voice was unnaturally tentative when he spoke.

“If this makes you uncomfortable, I can call one of the other teachers. Any one of them would be happy to host you until all this gets settled.”

Shouta immediately shook his head. “This is fine,” he said.

“If you’re sure…”

“Yes.”

Shouta couldn’t imagine a situation where Hizashi made him uncomfortable. He was embarrassed and completely overwhelmed, but it was still Hizashi. He felt safe, in a way none of the other teachers could touch. As the shock wore off, there was a part of Shouta—a rather large part—that was ridiculously pleased with the discovery.

Married. To Hizashi.

Shouta wondered how it’d started. How long they’d dated and when they’d moved in together. Who’d known about it. He imagined kissing his Hizashi, and it didn’t feel like a useless fantasy or a betrayal of their friendship. It’d happened, after all. He’d just forgotten it.

For once, Shouta thought about his missing memories and wanted. He wanted to remember this. He wanted those fifteen years back because he was burning with questions and curiosity. And… for Hizashi’s sake too. Who’d had a husband forget him instead of a best friend.

“Tell me about it?” Shouta said. He dared to look up at Hizashi’s face again and was met with a smile.

“Of course! I’m an open book, you know, especially to you. I can do you one better too; I can show you.”

Hizashi walked to one of the bookshelves. Shouta hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a row of photo albums tucked away on the bottom shelf. Hizashi brought a few back with him and laid them out on the table.

“These should cover most of our twenties. Feel free to look through them whenever, with or without me.”

Shouta nodded, and Hizashi opened the first album. They were fairly standard pictures. The kind Shouta never bothered to take or would’ve thought about keeping. He had no doubt the albums were Hizashi’s project. Now, though, Shouta was grateful for the pictures and especially for Hizashi, who remembered the stories behind them.

He and Hizashi were side by side in almost every photograph. In most of them—the public pictures—they weren’t doing anything romantic. Except, Hizashi often had an arm around Shouta’s shoulders, or their arms would be touching, or the distance between them would be slightly too small to be platonic. They were all things Shouta was familiar with from his Hizashi, except he wasn’t doing them with anyone else. Just Shouta.

There were other pictures too. He recognized this apartment in some of them. In one, Hizashi was reclining against adult Shouta’s chest, half asleep, as he talked to Nemuri. In another, they were kissing. Mouth to mouth. It was a chaste thing, but Shouta couldn’t look at it for more than a second before flipping the page.

Hizashi hesitated over one of the sections. Shouta recognized the beach from the picture in Hizashi’s—no, in their bedroom.

“These are from the wedding,” Hizashi said.

Shouta wasn’t sure whether he wanted to look closer or away. He recognized a few of the teachers and Hizashi’s family. Shouta’s current foster family was in a few pictures too. Shouta couldn’t even look at the pictures of the ceremony itself. He was simultaneously relieved and disappointed when Hizashi closed the album.

“What’s going through your head?” Hizashi asked.

Shouta shrugged. There was a lot happening in his mind right now. Too much for him to put into words, which seemed entirely insufficient anyway.

“C’mon, Shouta. Give me something to go off.”

Hizashi sounded nervous. Shouta was reminded of his offer to let Shouta stay with someone else. His worry about Shouta being uncomfortable. Shouta couldn’t deny it was strange. This wasn’t the Hizashi he had a crush on, and there was a lot about their relationship that Shouta wasn’t remotely prepared to think about. It wasn’t bad, though.

“I wish I could remember this,” Shouta said.

The words still didn’t seem like enough. They made Hizashi relax though, so they did their job. Hizashi was staring at Shouta too, like he was trying to figure something out. Shouta really wished his blush would go away already, but it came back every time Shouta looked at Hizashi.

Still, Shouta was relieved when Hizashi started smiling again. It had a mischievous edge and Shouta just knew Hizashi was about to say something embarrassing, but it was much better than the uncertainty from before.

“You know, my Shouta would never admit when his crush started. I’m getting a feeling it was pretty early though.”

Shouta made an inarticulate noise and buried his burning face in his hands. Hizashi had the nerve to laugh.

“Too much?”

Shouta didn’t answer. Hizashi patted him on the back.

“Don’t be embarrassed! I’m pretty sure I have you beat anyway,” Hizashi said

Shouta dared to glance up again because no way was Hizashi implying what Shouta thought he was. But Hizashi was sitting there with a soft, almost embarrassed smile on his face.

“You mean my Hizashi—the one I remember—has a crush. On me.”

Hizashi nodded and, for the second time in five minutes, Shouta felt his world combust. His blush intensified again, and he looked away, unable to meet Hizashi’s eyes. The asshole was enjoying this too.

“C’mon, don’t you have anything you wanna say? Any questions?”

He did. He had dozens of them, but that was mostly his imagination running wild about what a relationship with his Hizashi would be like. Not things he wanted to ask the adult version.

“When?” he asked instead.

“When did we start dating? Or when did the crush start?”

“Sure.”

Hizashi held up a finger and flipped through the photo album again. He stopped on a page near the beginning. The central picture was of him and Hizashi, wearing their UA graduation gowns and looking at the camera. There were a few other pictures too, of the ceremony and other students.

“We started dating right around graduation. We’d already arranged to stay in the same city and keep in contact and all that jazz, and I decided that it’d be a good time to see if, you know, adding something extra would work out too.”

Graduation. Almost two years away. Or twelve years in the past, depending on your perspective. Shouta was still reconciliating the discrepancy.

“And the crush?”

Hizashi groaned, and Shouta was surprised to note a light dusting of red spread across his cheeks. He’d embarrassed the Hero, and he hadn’t even been trying.

“You know, I never thought I’d have to tell this story a second time. Alright then! Like I said, it was early on, way back in the Sports Festival.”

Shouta frowned. “The second year festival?”

It was still a month away for him. Maybe Hizashi had gotten confused about Shouta’s memories.

Hizashi shook his head, and his blush darkened. “No, it was the first one.”

Shouta stared at him. Hizashi’s foot started tapping away again, and he looked back down at the photo album.

“But that’s when we met!” Shouta said.

Hizashi nodded. “It was a, uh, very memorable first meeting.”

“It was a fight! I knocked you out of the tournament.”

Shouta mostly remembered being stressed beyond belief and determined to win, no matter what. The festival had been his best shot at transferring into the Heroes course and, at the time, Hizashi had been one more obstacle in his way. A tough obstacle too; Shouta had used his Quirk sparingly in the first two competitions, and he made it through the second round of the 1v1 fights without anyone knowing what it was. Hizashi had been the first opponent to force his hand, and he’d still lasted longer than the first two fights combined.

He’d figured Hizashi would hate him after that, until he’d come up afterwards and demanded they be friends. There hadn’t been a hint of… of that.

“I said it back then, but you were really cool in that fight. You weren’t a jerk about winning either, which was a bonus. And, uh, apparently I found that attractive?” He got a weird look on his face. “It feels super creepy saying that now that you look young again. Like, no offense, but yeah. Moving on.”

Shouta was still stuck on the thought of his Hizashi harboring a crush for as long as he’d known the other teen. He’d been really good at hiding it. Or maybe not. Shouta remembered how affectionate Hizashi was and how easily he’d inserted his way into Shouta’s life. How much of that was from a crush and not Hizashi’s normal personality? Except…

 “You kept dating,” Shouta said.

There’d been a couple people in the year he’d known Hizashi. None too serious, but Shouta had often comforting Hizashi after the breakups. The emotions hadn’t been fake.

Hizashi laughed. “Well, yeah. Crushes aren’t mutually exclusive! It’s not like I was pining away or unsatisfied with our friendship or anything. It was just, y’know, there. And I’d be reminded of it every so often. I got crushes easily! They usually faded pretty fast too, but, well.” Hizashi twisted the wedding ring on his finger and smiled. “Clearly that wasn’t the case this time. I figured, if the crush survived three years it wasn’t gonna be fading anytime soon. Plus, our friendship was strong enough that, even if the talk went sour, it’d survive the awkwardness. And hey, it all worked out fantastically, if I do say so myself.”

Shouta couldn’t relate. If Hizashi could stumble into a crush in a second, Shouta was the exact opposite. It had taken his feelings months to grow and just as long to get comfortable with them. Eventually, the weight of all those memories started feeling oppressive, and Shouta grabbed Jazz and retreated to the corner to be alone.  Hizashi freely gave Shouta his space while staying within eyesight, which was just what Shouta needed. Eventually he’d go back, but for now he had enough to think about.

…

AN: Sorry for the wait, but yeah. Have an extra long chapter, most of which wasn’t supposed to exist! Originally I didn’t have a good training exercise idea and was gonna nix it altogether, until I switched gears to a stealth exercise instead. And then the backstory stuff happened and forced me to actually develop my vague headcanons. Kudos to anyone who recognized the names of Shouta’s classmates!

I’m still not sure how Mina and Hagakure ended up dating. I didn’t even ship them? Though I guess I do now…

Also, the guest proctor for Shouta’s first year was Endeavor. Shouta was not impressed with the type of person Endeavor favored.

Chapter Text

Shouta tried to sleep that night. He really did.

He was in a safe place. The bedding was extremely comfortable. He was exhausted from the continual sleep deprivation. Yet, the hours ticket onward, and Shouta didn’t come close to unconsciousness. He couldn’t stop thinking. Every time he started to doze off, he jerked back awake, wondering how long it had been. If he’d still be the same after waking.

When morning arrived, Shouta had slept worse than he had any time over the past week, including his nights in the forest. He was already up and working the coffee machine when Hizashi emerged. Hizashi took one look at him and sighed.

“You look horrible,” Hizashi said.

Shouta grunted and drank his coffee. He felt horrible. He didn’t need the reminded that he looked it too or for Hizashi to start asking why. Thankfully, Hizashi seemed to pick up on his mood, and he didn’t ask any more questions.

When they arrived at the teachers’ lounge, Shouta eyed his normal place underneath his desk. He was in desperate need of a nap and, with the noise and publicity of the room, there was almost no chance he’d sleep longer than an hour or two. Shouta resisted. He wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself or dawdling after making a decision. Sooner or later, he would return to his adult form. It would be a good thing. Really. His current emotional response to the idea was illogical.

Instead of napping, Shouta paced. He started inside the main building, but soon enough the hallways started seeming claustrophobic. Shouta turned to the outdoor paths, which normally helped him relax. It didn’t work, but it was better than staying inside.

Shouta wasn’t sure how much time passed before somebody called his name. He turned to see Kirishima running up the path. Shouta hadn’t realized he’d been walking near the main campus again.

“Don’t you have class?” Shouta said.

“Nah, we’ve got a free period right now.”

“Shouldn’t you be studying then?”

That was what the free periods were for, after all. Studying or training, depending on what the student needed to work on more. From what Shouta knew of Kirishima, he guessed the other teen needed more help with his academics.

“It’s a free period, right? That means we’re free to do whatever we want with it!”

Shouta shrugged. It wasn’t his place to lecture Kirishima about his attitude in school. Not like this, anyway. As an adult, he was technically Kirishima’s teacher, which was an entirely different situation. Shouta decided not to think about it. He continued along the path, and Kirishima kept pace with him.

“What’s eating at you, man?” Kirishima asked eventually. “I don’t know you super well, especially like this, but this seems like an upset silence instead of your normal one.”

Shouta didn’t answer for a while, debating whether he wanted to talk about the situation at all or with Kirishima in particular. His adult self would probably be unhappy about sharing personal information with a student, but Shouta wasn’t an adult right now.

“They found out how to undo the Quirk,” Shouta said.

“Really? That’s…” Kirishima trailed off at the look on Shouta’s face. “That’s good, right? Or is there something else?”

Shouta shrugged. “Yeah. It’s good.”

Because it was. Really. Shouta knew it, everyone else knew it too, and Shouta’s unease about the whole situation wasn’t important.

“I sense a ‘but’ coming along,” Kirishima prompted.

“I’m a different person as an adult. Once the Quirk wears off, I’ll be him instead of me.”

Shouta liked what he’d seen about his adult self. He was a strong Hero and respected teacher. He seemed happy. He was married to Hizashi, which Shouta still struggled to wrap his mind around. Yet… Shouta couldn’t imagine having that life.

“You’re really not all that different,” Kirishima said.

Shouta looked at him like he was crazy.

“I’m serious! I mean, sure, there’s a lot of little things, like how you’re shorter and more relaxed around us, but you’re still the same person. I totally get why you’d be all nervous about it! But, like… you don’t have to worry about your personality doing a 180 or anything. You’re just… older.”

Shouta let Kirishima’s words sink in as they turned back towards the main building. It was strange to think of his older self, of Eraserhead, as part of him, and he didn’t quite manage it. He tried, at least.

…

Kirishima successfully dragged Shouta to lunch again, not that Shouta resisted too hard. It was both disturbing and weirdly gratifying to have a group so excited to see him. Ashido stood up to welcome him, though thankfully she held off on the hug this time.  

“You came! We missed you at lunch yesterday,” Ashido said, ushering them into their seats.

“Present Mic and I were at the police station to meet a suspect,” Shouta said.

“The police station? Does that mean they found something?”

Shouta nodded. “The Quirk I was hit with is called Revitalize. It returns things—and people—to a previous state. Its reversal is triggered by sleep.”

There was a moment of silence. Then Kaminari started snickering, and several people hid smiles. Apparently Shouta’s insomnia was public knowledge.

“No offense, man, but I think that’s the most ironic thing I’ve ever heard,” Sero said.

Silently, Shouta agreed. Anyone else, and this entire situation would have resolved itself in a day or two at most. And here Shouta was, a week and a half in and with no clue when it would end.

 “If you’ve caught the person then can’t you just, you know, poof and make it go away?” Kaminari asked. He made a strange gesture around his hair, which Shouta assumed was referring to his Quirk.

“No. Erasure only works on active Quirks. Not on lingering effects.”

The others made thoughtful noises, which Shouta thought was rather unnecessary. His Quirk was reasonably straightforward, and, as his students, they must’ve seen him use it extensively. Then again, he’d noticed that most people rarely thought critically about Quirks.

“What about Midnight? Her Quirk is all about sleep right?”

Shouta froze with some food halfway to his mouth. That would… probably work. Nemuri’s Quirk induced a drugged sleep, and she could make it last several hours. It was the expedient solution for turning him back into an adult. So why did the thought make his chest clench in panic?

“I’d rather not,” Shouta said instead.

Kaminari looked like he would keep pushing, but Kirishima and Ashido, for better or for worse, noticed his discomfort and stepped in. Kirishima distracted Kaminari while Ashido shifted the conversation away.

“Where are you staying anyway? I haven’t seen you wandering around campus in the evenings anymore,” Ashido asked.

“I’m staying at Hizashi’s apartment until this ends,” Shouta said.

The panicked feeling from earlier eased with the new topic. He could talk about Hizashi easily. Although, they didn’t need to know that it was technically a shared apartment. Or anything else about that part of his life. In hindsight, maybe Hizashi wasn’t the best topic right now. A few people, including Ashido, looked confused for a moment.

“Hiza- Oh, you mean Present Mic! Sometimes I forget he’s, like, a real person, not just a teacher. That makes sense! You guys met at UA, right? So he’s gotta be one of the only people you still recognize.”

Shouta nodded. “We met a few months into our first year, during the Sports Festival,” he said.

The one where, apparently, Hizashi had developed an enormous crush on Shouta. Another thing the students did not need to know.

Sero, who’d been quiet for a bit, leaned forward to draw Shouta’s attention. “Say, I’ve got a question for you. There’s a lot of rumors about you and Present Mic going around. Could you confirm them? I’ve got a couple bets riding on you guys.”

The other conversations fell silent. Kirishima whapped Sero’s shoulder and hissed something about tact. Except, Sero was still looking at Shouta, waiting for an answer. Everyone else seemed overly curious about Shouta’s private life too.

“That’s none of your business,” Shouta said.

He kept a straight face, but Shouta could feel himself flushing. He prayed nobody noticed. It didn’t work.

“Oh my god, are you blushing?” Ashido shouted. “Wait, does that mean you two really are a thing? C’mon, you have to tell us!”

Shouta didn’t have to do anything,

“He’s literally twice my age right now,” Shouta said, but Ashido waved him off.

“You know that’s not what I meant. Are you dating the, like, little Present Mic now? Were you two high school sweethearts?”

Shouta glared at her instead of answering, but Ashido squealed like he’d confirmed it. “You totally were! That’s the cutest thing ever.”

 “I’m pretty sure that’s private,” Shouta grumbled.

It wasn’t quite accurate either, since apparently he and Hizashi started dating after graduation not before. Still, he wasn’t about to correct Ashido over the details. He didn’t want to lie and pretend they’d never dated either, which meant everyone took his reticence as confirmation. Shouta glared as people started congratulating him, and a few bills exchanged hands.

“Seriously, though. If you’ve been dating since UA that’s, what, fifteen years? That’s crazy impressive, man,” Kirishima said, patting his back. Shouta thought he stole a glance at Bakugo, but that might’ve been his imagination.

Shouta focused on eating his lunch and pretended the rest of the group didn’t exist. He tried to force his blush to fade through sheer force of will, and he was doing pretty well until the others started talking again.

“Fifteen years… do you think they’re married? Like, actually, legit married?” Kaminari whispered to Ashido.

“I mean, Aizawa used Present Mic’s name as an alias. It would make sense!” she whispered back.

Shouta’s blush immediately came back, worse than ever. His face had to be bright red, and he could feel it spreading down his neck. Abandoning his half-finished lunch, Shouta pushed his chair out and stood, intending to walk away and pretend the last half hour had never happened. Ashido grabbed his arm before he could leave.

“Sorry! We’ll stop, I promise! You don’t have to leave,” she said.

Reluctantly, Shouta let himself be coaxed back into his seat to finish eating. He refused to look at anyone for the next several minutes. True to their words, nobody else mentioned Present Mic or their relationship, but he could feel people sneaking glances at him and gigging to each other. Shouta ignored them.

…

Shouta was walking back with Hizashi when he heard somebody running up the path behind them. He kept going until they called his name.

 “Hey, Aizawa! Can you hold up a moment?” Kirishima asked.

Shouta looked back to see Kirishima. He stopped, and Hizashi made a curious noise beside him.

“What is it?” Shouta asked. 

“Can I talk to you? In private?” Kirishima asked. His eyes darted towards Present Mic.

Shouta shrugged. Hizashi would tease him later about socializing with his students, but it wasn’t like Shouta minded too much. Hizashi laughed and excused himself, and Shouta followed Kirishima down one of the smaller trails into the forest. Kirishima led him to a small bench along the path, where they wouldn’t be overheard.

“It’s about the thing. With you and Present Mic,” Kirishima said.

Shouta glared at him. “If you’re starting that again…” he warned, but Kirishima immediately shook his head.

“I’m not trying to tease you or anything, I promise! I just…”

Kirishima trailed off, and Shouta was surprised to see a blush rising on his cheeks.

“D’you think you could give me some advice?” he said. “I mean, a relationship between two Heroes seems super complicated, and I just… How do you know if it’s worth it?”

Shouta took a moment before speaking. Clearly his older self valued his privacy, and he didn’t want to betray that. Except, Kirishima had been saying how Shouta should stop thinking about his future self as a different person. Right now, Shouta thought an honest conversation trumped hoarding the details about their relationship.

“I’m not actually dating my Hizashi,” Shouta admitted.

Kirishima’s face cracked. “Oh. Shit, sorry,” he said, his voice small. “I’ll just-”

He looked like he was about to run away, so Shouta grabbed his arm. He didn’t meet Kirishima’s eyes as he continued.

“We started dating after graduation. So it’s still a couple years off for me. Hizashi’s told me about it though, so I can… Try. To answer your questions. If that’s what you still want, anyway.”

He forced himself to look at Kirishima. The other teen was nodding vigorously, and his eyes were suspiciously bright.

“It’s Bakugo for you, isn’t it?” Shouta said.

He didn’t have much to go on, but he had a feeling. Shouta knew to trust his instincts. Judging by the blush coloring Kirishima’s face, he was right. Shouta didn’t understand the appeal, but to each their own, he guessed.

“Let’s find a place to sit, and I’ll tell you what I can,” Shouta said. “I think… it all comes back to trust.”

He talked to Kirishima for a while. Shouta didn’t know how good his advice was or how much it helped Kirishima, but by the end he seemed thoughtful. Shouta was emotionally exhausted as well as physically by the time they finished, and he left Kirishima on the bench to be alone with his thoughts. Hizashi was waiting where Shouta had left him, and he smiled at Shouta as he approached.

“Did you figure it out?” Hizashi asked.

“I think so.”

Hizashi didn’t ask what it’d been, and Shouta didn’t offer. That was Kirishima’s secret to keep, for as long as he wanted.

“Let’s go home, Hizashi,” Shouta said.

…

Shouta was brooding. He could admit it to himself, though he’d deny it to anyone who asked. The window nook was exactly as comfortable as it looked, and he’d curled up with the thickest blanket they had for the evening. He’d coaxed Jazz into joining him for a while, though she came and went throughout the evening. He had a perfect view of the sun as it set.

After the non-existent sleep from the previous night and the lack of naps today, Shouta was beyond exhausted. Yet, he couldn’t imagine relaxing enough to fall asleep. Not with the threat of waking up different looming over his head. He was feeling more comfortable about his older self, about being older, but…

A voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“Hey. Scoot over, alright?” Hizashi said. He was carrying two steaming mugs of tea, and he handed one to Shouta before sitting beside him. The nook was barely big enough for them both, and Shouta’s side brushed against Hizashi. It reminded Shouta of his Hizashi. About sitting together, just like this, and talking or studying for hours.

“Talk to me, Shouta. What’s been running through your head all evening?”

Shouta shrugged. Hizashi laughed and nudged at his shoulder. “C’mon, you can tell me! I’m not gonna let it go, you know. I’ll stay here all night if that’s what it takes!”

Shouta smiled, almost against his will. Hizashi’s cheer was infectious, and he wasn’t lying about staying with Shouta all night. He’d done it before, when they were both teens and Shouta couldn’t find the words to explain what was tearing at his consciousness.

“I’m… uncertain,” Shouta started. He couldn’t find the words to continue.

“About?” Hizashi prompted.

“Changing. Undoing the Quirk.”

He was coming to terms with it, slowly, but Shouta wasn’t sure he’d ever really be ready. He had no idea what would happen. Whether he’d feel it as the Quirk reversed itself. Whether it would hurt. He didn’t even know if he’d retain the memories from this week, or if it would be like none of this had ever happened.

Hizashi was still looking at him. Shouta focused on his tea instead. He didn’t want to see the disappointment on Hizashi’s face. He was frustrated enough with his own emotions without adding Hizashi’s on top of it.

“Shouta. Hey, look at me, alright?”

Reluctantly, Shouta obeyed. Hizashi was… smiling? It wasn’t his normal smile, which was all wide angles and exuberance. It was smaller, with something sad around it’s edges, but comforting nonetheless.

“It’s alright if you want to wait, you know. We’re not on a time limit, and we can take the time until you’re more comfortable with the idea.”

“And if I’m never comfortable?”

He was carefully watching Hizashi’s face, but his expression didn’t waver.

“Then we’ll figure it out when we get there.”

Shouta looked away first, unable to bear the sincerity in Hizashi’s eyes. “Don’t lie to me. I know you miss your husband,” he said.

Hizashi shifted on the seat, and Shouta knew he’d hit a nerve. He wasn’t excited about the accomplishment. He just felt vaguely nauseous.

“You always had a knack for asking the hardest questions,” Hizashi said quietly. “You’re right. The last fifteen years have meant a lot to me. It’s not always easy, seeing you without those memories. But that’s something for me to worry about, not you. Believe me, seeing you in pain or afraid would be a heck of a lot worse than this.”

The words struck Shouta hard. Of course Hizashi wouldn’t be upset. He wasn’t that kind of person. Hizashi was kind and selfless to a fault, and he’d always had a knack for making Shouta relax. Shouta had thrown those missing years at Hizashi, but they weighed on Shouta too. Sometimes it hurt, but others… He would think about those missing experiences and wonder.

“Do you want to wait?” Hizashi asked. “We can set up alarms or something to make sure you don’t sleep too long.”

Shouta seriously considered saying yes. Except… then what? He’d keep following Hizashi around, spending his days killing time in the teachers’ lounge? Spar with the students in their spare time? Shouta could delay reversing the Quirk, but that was all he’d be doing. Procrastinating. Wasting time. He didn’t have a future here. Not as a teen. But… he had a pretty good one waiting for him as an adult.

“I think this is as ready as I’ll ever be,” Shouta said instead.

“That’s not-” Hizashi protested, but Shouta cut him off.

“I want to remember those fifteen years too.”

Part of him was still afraid. That wasn’t going away. But… it was manageable. Shouta wasn’t a coward; he wouldn’t let fear keep holding him back.

“I’ll probably need sleeping pills,” Shouta admitted. Stress would undoubtedly wake him up otherwise, and Shouta was sure his adult self had some pills squirreled away somewhere. Shouta disliked using them, but he always had some available, in case his insomnia started affecting his performance.

“Let me try something first,” Hizashi said. He shifted into a more comfortable position and pulled Shouta, blankets and all, so he was half-reclining against his chest. Shouta stiffened at first, caught off guard by the closeness, but he started relaxing almost as quickly. He couldn’t feel much through the blanket, but he could feel the weight of Hizashi’s arm over his shoulders. His head pressed against the soft cotton of Hizashi’s shirt

“My Shouta always found this soothing. He wouldn’t tell me why, but it helped him fall asleep on bad nights,” Hizashi said, and Shouta could hear the words resonating in his chest.

Shouta could see why. Already, the tension that had been his constant companion for days was seeping out of him.

“It’s warm,” Shouta mumbled. “I can hear your heartbeat.”

It was surprisingly soothing, especially because it was Hizashi’s. He felt Hizashi laugh as the sound rumbled through his chest. Shouta’s exhaustion caught up to him before he could say anything else. He fell asleep.

…

AN: Considering the response mashed potato coffee got earlier, K’lol and I decided we were obligated to try it! It was… an experience. You get a strong whiff of potato when the cup gets close, but the actual potato taste is surprisingly mild. The problem is the gritty texture, and the horrific potato clumps on the bottom of the mug. Hizashi was right to dump it out :P

Chapter Text

Shouta woke up with a splitting headache.

He groaned and shifted, hiding his face against the familiar chest of his husband. Shouta wanted to fall back asleep until the pain disappeared, except something was wrong. He blearily lifted his head and looked around. They were in the living room, balanced precariously on the couch. Shouta carefully maneuvered himself off Hizashi, who stirred without opening his eyes, and padded to the kitchen to make some coffee. He'd figure out the mystery later, when he was more coherent.

Halfway through, he heard a loud thump from the living room. Hizashi had fallen off the couch, not that he seemed to have noticed. He stared at Shouta with wide eyes from the ground.

“Shouta!” Hizashi shouted, and he leapt to his feet. “You’re back!”

He pulled Shouta into a frantic kiss, deep and desperate. Shouta let Hizashi crowd him against the counter and kissed back until Hizashi stopped shaking.

“Back?” Shouta said when his mouth was free. “Was I gone?”

Hizashi stiffened and pulled back. “You mean you don’t remember?”

Shouta frowned and rubbed at his head. His memories of the past several days were oddly faded, like they’d happened a long time ago. With a little effort, though, they came back to him.

“I was a kid again. Huh,” Shouta said.

Well. That was embarrassing. Particularly since his students had been involved. They were going to be insufferable until this blew over. Nemuri probably had a novel’s worth of pictures and blackmail too. As for Hizashi…

“Sorry for putting you through that. I should’ve been more careful, but I let my guard down.”

Morishita had been young, drunk, and clearly untrained, but that was no excuse for being careless. Shouta remembered how Hizashi had looked, especially during those first few days. He never wanted to see that look again.

Hizashi pressed another kiss to his lips. “You came back. That’s what matters.”

The coffee machine finished, and Shouta turned around to pour himself a cup. Hizashi stayed plastered to his back, and his mustache tickled against Shouta’s neck. Shouta was halfway through his first cup when Hizashi moved.

“Stay right there!” he said, and he ran into their bedroom. He returned a moment later with something small cupped carefully in his hands.

“I’ve been waiting to give this back to you,” Hizashi said, and he held out Shouta’s wedding ring. 

His eyes were wet as he put the ring on Shouta’s finger, but his grin was blinding. Shouta kept their hands entwined afterwards.

“Are you alright? You were really worried last night,” Hizashi said.

The memory came back to him easily enough. His fear seemed entirely unnecessary now, but he remembered how real it had been at the time. He’d changed since he was a teen, but growing older didn’t erase who he’d been before. Not even when it happened all at once.

“I’m exactly where I want to be,” Shouta said, and it was the truth.

~.*.~

AN: And this is where I’ll be ending this story! Thanks for coming along on his adventure and especially to everyone who left kudos or comments. I’m planning on adding a short companion story soon with a mix of random scenes/drabbles, including Shouta’s first day back teaching, some Hizashi POV during interesting moments, etc. If you have any ideas for said scenes, let me know!