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Chapter Text

 “–And I…am… Iron Man.”

When Anthony Edward Stark, or better known as Tony Stark, had stated those five simple words with absolute certainty in his deep voice, he knew that everything that he and the Avengers had fought for for so long had come down to this single monumental moment in history.

That the inevitable had happened.

From across the rocky terrain in which they had just conducted a battle to the life-or-death, a trinkle of fear bled into the usual cocky demeanor of the infamous Mad Titan, the genocidal warlord staggering backwards in pure disbelief at his unexpected loss of the infinity stones. 

Within a blink of an eye, less than it took for Tony to even get a single breath in, Thanos, the once Mad Titan who had rampaged the entire universe on some misguided belief that had cost the lives of billions, disintegrated into dust alongside countless of his minions.

Then there was only silence.

Once the very last of the dust had been carelessly swept away by a passing Autumn breeze did Tony allow himself a moment of respite, all the emotions and feelings that he had kept steadily at bay during the entire battle finally came unbridled in his head. 

He nearly collapsed onto himself, only stopping at the last possible moment by some alien ship wreck that he managed to find some purchase to keep himself from falling flat on his face. 

Slowly, with deliberately careful movements, Tony lowered himself down onto the hard ground. Intense burning pain was radiating from the tips of his fingers of his right arm down to his shoulder like waves, and he tasted nothing but the bitter acidic flavor of iron in his mouth. When Tony spat some of it to the nearby ground, it was a bright coat of red.

Everything hurts.

It hurts so fucking bad that Tony almost wished he was back at that faraway planet, Titan, where Thanos had dropped a freaking moon on him in a last desperate attempt to get rid of Tony and his motley crew away from the Infinity Stones in his blinded fury. At least there, he had a reason to feel some sort of pain, with the nanomachines of his armor able to deflect the most lethal of the damages from his body. 

But here, sitting on a patch of dusty grass covered in who knew what, with sunlight bearing down on him now that most of the dust clouds had long since dissipated right after Thanos’ demise, the pain was reaching to the point of no longer being unbearable. 

It was hell.

He was almost positively certain he would pass out from the shock alone any moment now. 

Maybe…

Tony began to close his eyes.

…I could rest for a little while.

The world wouldn’t go to shits if he closed his eyes for a brief moment, right? For a teensy little moment…

Faintly in the background, Tony could hear the cheers and wallops of joy ring out from across the battlefield as news quickly spread of the defeat of Thanos and his army. The very last words Dr. Strange had said to him before fading into dust five years ago on Titan, a simple, “–There was no other way,” echoed in Tony’s mind as he watched the sun crept up over the horizon in the distance. 

Was this the one? 

A voice silently whispered in his ears.  

Or was this all just an illusion played onto him by a cruel and malicious Thanos who was using the Mind Stone to mess with his head before finally sending Tony back to the painful reality of their actual loss?

The cheers grew louder.

Yes.  

Tony finally closed his eyes. 

This was the one.

They had won.

Something refreshingly cool and metallic cradled his cheek a few moments later and it took Tony a couple of seconds to gather his bearings and open back his eyes with some difficulty. A figure blurred into view, of a dark face with warm honey brown eyes that stared down at him with such admiration that Tony was left speechless as the figure grew closer to his line of sight..

Ah.

Rhodey was here. 

His dearest best friend, his amazingly wonderful Platypus , was speaking, mouth moving rapidly but the words were fuzzy and barely reached Tony’s ears no matter how much he strained to listen. His friend’s expression grew increasingly fret with worry and concern as the tender silence stretched on between them. 

Another person then came running, and someone else popped into view from behind the armor of Rhodey’s War Machine; this one was significantly younger, with messy brown hair and brown large eyes that peered down at Tony unblinkingly as if trying to comprehend what exactly they were seeing.

Peter.

He was alive. 

The student that he took underneath his figuratively iron wing, the one who had braved numerous foes more terrifying than the last all with a silly smile and a cringy outdated pop culture joke on the tip of his tongue. 

The one, that after Thanos had snapped his fingers back on Titan, winning the war and sentencing billions to their death, tried to reach out to Tony with his last dying breath as the black ashes slowly overtook his body with a, “I don’t feel so good, Mr. Stark…,” before disappearing all together in his grasp.

Tears welled up in the corners of Tony’s eyes. 

Five years. 

Five years he had spent not knowing whether or not he would ever see the young teen again, five years of waking up every night to the same nightmare of watching Peter evaporate into dust right before his very own eyes. 

For five years, he had waited for this chance to apologize for all his faults and problems that had led up to this moment. To finally wrap his arms around the boy that he could almost call his son, and never let go. 

And Tony couldn’t do so much as to even breathe without spasming. 

His vision blurred as the teardrops dripped down his cheeks. He had missed him so much that it hurt more than the pain radiating from his melted right arm. 

Startled, Peter moved a firm hand onto Tony’s other shoulder, mindful of the pieces of armor that were infused into the flesh of his skin. There was a heavy weight attached to his action with pain and regret pouring out from his body in sporadic waves that Tony could feel all the way down to the fingertips resting on his shoulder.

“We won,” Peter choked out in a breathless gasp of air, staring straight into the depths of Tony’s hazel brown eyes. “Mr. Stark, we won. You did it. We won.”

His bottom lips quivered when he got no response back from Tony.

Another person calmly approached his view; their blue and white armor reflecting some of the sunlight back onto Tony’s eyes, forcing him to squint slightly as the figure came to stand before them. 

Gently pushing Peter into the awaiting arms of Rhodey’s, the person carefully wrapped their own long, warm arms around Tony, and strands of strawberry blonde hair and a strong whiff of paprika cued him to their identity.

Pepper.

His beautiful, amazingly talented wife who has been by his side longer than most when he had become who was now as Iron Man, when he used to be only known as Tony Stark –the genius, cocky, playboy philanthropist who had cared little of what the world did with his weapons till it came back to haunt him one lonely stint in Afghanistan. 

Without his own volition, memories came unbridled into his head. 

From their honeymoon in the Hawaiian Islands, to the birth of their miracle baby–Morgan, of his promise to her on the night he had returned back to Earth after losing the fight against Thanos and coming home to a world losing half of its entire population in a span of a finger snap, where he swore up and down that they could live a simple life together with no more risk of heroism ever disrupting their relationship.

He had ended up breaking that promise the moment Stephen Lang had arrived at their quiet cabin house by the lake, seemingly returned safe and sound back from the Quantum Realm and convinced that time travel was all but impossible. 

Fresh new tears sprang from Tony’s eyes. 

I’m so sorry, he desperately needed to say to her out loud, but his mouth wouldn’t move an inch. I’m so, so sorry. 

She smiled, understanding his unspoken words with an effortless gesture as she thumbed her fingers through the tears and wiped it all away in one swift motion. Her smile was pure and radiant like the sun beaming down on them and Tony couldn’t look away no matter how much his eyes burned from the effort. 

“Hey,” she whispered, like she used to do during late nights when Morgan was fast asleep in her room, and it was only just the two of them wide awake and sharing a bottle of vintage red wine to go alongside with a charcuterie board that had more cheese than meat on it. 

He felt his lips curve a little at the memory.

“Hey…Pepper,” Tony managed to say through long labored breaths of air only to cough after the last syllable had passed through his lips. 

His wife gently rubbed his back as the worst of it went through his body like a passing hurricane, leaving him rattled and bone deep tired by the end of it. 

When he finished, she gently leaned him back onto his resting place, one hand keeping Tony firmly in place while the other drifted downward to cup against the arc reactor that still glowed with a sickly bluish hue on his chest. It was growing fainter by the second.

Pepper closed her eyes. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

For a tense minute, only silence greeted her, then the familiar synthesized voice of his AI assistant chirped her response from somewhere within Tony’s helmet. 

“Life function is critical.”

Someone let out a gut-wrenching cry, and Rhodey tightened his hold onto Peter who had now buried his head into the curvature of Rhodey’s shoulder. 

Meanwhile, like the Colonel that he was, his best friend kept his gaze solely on Tony, a soft hearted look on Rhodey’s face as he watched on with tears in his eyes. 

Sighing in resignation, Pepper simply nodded her head, visibly swallowing down whatever cry had seemingly threatened to escape her red lipstick coated lips. She opened back her eyes, the soft forest green that held nothing but solid determination and peaceful acceptance for what was inevitably about to happen. 

“You were so amazing,” she cooed, bringing her hand away from the dimming arc reactor and back onto his face, as she touched their foreheads together. The scent of her spicy perfume clogged his senses, sending dopamine into Tony’s brain as he inhaled it as deeply as he could.

That earned him a tiny tender laugh from his wife, and Pepper wiped a stray tear from her eyes. 

“We’re going to be fine, Tony,” she reassured him, strong conviction in her voice as she held onto his gaze. “You can rest now.”

Tony gurgled out a sound that he hoped translated to, ‘I know.’

Based on the way her radiant smile grew slightly wider; he knew his message had been received. 

Tightening her hold onto him, Pepper began to rock Tony back and forth, humming a sweet little lullaby that brought happier memories in Tony’s mind as he listened to the harmonious melody. It was the same one his wife had hummed to their daughter the night after she had been born, swaddled in a pale pink blanket and crying her little heart out. 

One verse, and Morgan’s cries quickly gave way to a happy gurgling sound as she peered up at Pepper like she hung the stars and the moon. And partially hidden in the background, Tony would watch on with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes as his two favorite people in the whole entire universe lovingly interact with one another.

Slowly, but surely, Tony began to close his eyes. 

They will be fine, he told himself as his vision dimmed to a thin gray line. They will be just fine.

Maybe…he could rest his eyes for just a moment. A teensy itsy little moment. 

And when he opened them again, he would find himself back inside his log cabin by the lake, on his nice comfortably expensive tempurpedic bed with his daughter’s smiling face beaming down onto him. 

He would then try and pretend to still be asleep only to have Morgan pester him relentlessly with her fingers, asking when he would come play with her inside her dollhouse that Tony had painstakingly built over a summer ago at her request.

After some light grumbling, he would eventually get off from his comfortable bed and scoop his daughter into his arms, pressing kisses all over her face as she squealed in delight. 

Together they would then head to the first floor where Pepper would be waiting for them in kitchen, already in the middle of preparing breakfast that required one too many eggs and Tony would help his wife to the best of his ability all while Morgan chatted on about their plans for the day as she took her usual seat by the table. 

And they would be happy. One big happy family. 

“I love you 3000,” Tony said softly as he kissed his daughter goodnight. She turned to him with a tired small grin as she rested her head upon a pillow, one of her teddy bears held closely within her tiny arms.

“Love you 4000 more, daddy,” her voice said quietly back, and Tony’s lips curved slightly at her words. 

He dimmed the lights as he headed out the door, stopping briefly for a moment to glance back at Morgan sleeping’s form, safe and sound from any potential threat, and Tony’s own expression turned mushy soft at the scene. 

Tomorrow, he promised. Tomorrow he will build his daughter her very own Iron Mask that she could use whenever she wanted to play Superheroes with her parents. 

For now, though, he closed the door shut and let Morgan sleep sweet dreams of robots and dollies.

His little 3000.

With a smile on his face, Tony closed his eyes for one last final time.

Only to find himself rudely awakened by an incessant beeping sound. 

With a startled yelp, Tony lifted himself partially off from the ground, hands flinging about wildly in the air as his vision blurry from general grogginess and sleep crust. 

One of his hands hit something beside him, knocking it away with a hard clatter. Whatever it was, it at least stopped that annoying beeping, bathing his surroundings with a blissful sort of silence that was slowly luring him back to la la la land. 

Yawning, Tony dropped back down onto the surprisingly soft covered ground, snuggling his head onto an extremely squishy rock and pulling what felt like fuzzy blankets more over his body. It smelt heavenly like air freshener and lavender detergent.

Something in his head clicked at that moment, and his eyes shot back open. 

Tony instantly regretted it a second later as the harsh rays of the sun hit him square in the face, causing him to go temporarily blind as he shielded his eyes from the intensity. 

Once the flashes of yellow dotted light faded away, he opened them tentatively back again, finding himself in a bedroom, the window across from him propped open to let a slight breeze gently drift in.

For a moment, Tony dared himself to believe that he was back at his log cabin by the lake, that he had survived the battle against Thanos, that he didn’t witness his dear friends and wife say their last goodbyes to him as Tony closed his eyes for a final time.

Almost as if by instinct, he glanced over to the door opposite the window. 

Any minute now his daughter would burst through the door and demand her father wake up and play with her in her dollhouse. 

Any minute now…

But the door remained steadfastly closed.

Memories rushed through him at that moment, of his untimely demise, of Pepper’s sweet gentle smile, of Morgan’s laughter ringing through the lake as he took her out for a swim during one unusually warm fall morning. 

Tears gathered up in the corners of his eyes. 

I miss them. 

Tony sniffled. 

I missed them so much. 

It doesn’t explain why he was here, why he was still alive when he knew for certainty that snapping his fingers would all but guarantee his own death. 

Other memories coalesce with the other ones, and he saw another woman, this one petite with short green hair peering down at him in a tender smile as she stroked his cheeks.

“It’s okay Izuku,” she whispered in a voice that held nothing but motherly warmth, “you can be a hero.”

Then the scene abruptly shifted into a playground where a trio of kids no older than six taunted him with names like “Quirkless freak” and “Deku” while onlookers watched apathetically on with no effort to stop the bullies from hurting him. 

Again, the scene changed before Tony could even process the memory, and this time he was staring up at a tall man with darkish green hair and eyes cut from a cold jade stone as smoke billowed out seemingly from his mouth. He reached out a hand and spoke in a guttural tone that rattled Tony’s bones.

“You are no son of mine,” the man said, lips coiled into a smoking sneer. “How can you be, if you don’t even have a quirk?”

Finally, the man melted away and someone else took their place.

This man was a giant, with firm well defined muscles that would put even Captain America to shame and two long bangs of blond hair that jutted out from his head like a pair of rabbit’s ears. 

Sporting a wide toothy grin, the man gave Tony a thumbs up as if striking a pose.

"Have no fear!” his voice boomed easily across the growing crowd that gathered before him, “For I…am HERE!”

Tony blinked and the memories disappeared to fade into the sunlight. 

What… was that?

He couldn’t have been hallucinating, he knew what it was like to be under mind control. For the Scarlet Witch, Wanda, to play sick games with his mind back when she was under Ultron’s command. 

This had felt like an entirely different experience. 

Cautiously, Tony took another glance around the room, finding it significantly different from the one from his log cabin by the lake. 

For one, it seemed more suited for children with toys and books scattered around his floor in a haphazard manner. Posters of that same grinning man adorned every inch of the four walls that encompassed the bedroom, all equipped with silly catchphrases such as “Detroit Smash!” or “It’s fine now. Why? Because I am here!” All of which, interestingly enough, were written in the Kanji characters that was easy for him to read.

Tony knew how to speak Japanese, but reading it was an entirely different thing that he had never quite managed to grasp.

Blinking some more, he spotted a mirror hung in the left corner of the room, decorated with a plethora of stickers of the same grinning blond man and a couple of other characters dressed in colorful spandex costumes. Tony made a beeline for it, reaching it with unsteady footsteps that nearly sent him stumbling at the last couple of steps. 

What greeted him was a face he could not recognize.

Impossibly large green eyes, the shade of an evergreen forest, peered unblinking back at him, with a face devoid of any facial hair or muscles, and a smattering of freckles on each side of his chubby cheeks. 

Nestled firmly above his head was a bird’s nest of hair, also the same shade of green as his eyes, though some areas were shaded a little darker than the rest. 

Slowly lifting up a hand, Tony picked at a strand of his newly acquired hairstyle, watching in morbid curiosity as the soft curl uncoiled itself briefly for a second before returning back to its naturally curly state. 

Tony blinked, and the face in the mirror blinked in sync with him. 

He hummed. 

How interesting.

So, he was alive.

The hows and the whys were still up in the air, but somehow against the odds, against the very fabric of reality, time and perhaps even death, he was somehow still alive .

A second chance in life was not on his bingo cards, but Tony wasn’t one to look at a gift horse in the mouth. If, for some reason the universe had decided it was not done with him yet, then Tony could handle it.

After all, Tony grinned softly to himself, the face in the mirror matching his expression to a T. He had faced terrible things before in his lifetime: man-killer robots, godly aliens, and even a tyrannical purple mad titan were just some of the several things he could name off of a long list. 

But this?

This was nothing.

Because he was Iron Man, he was Tony Stark, a man born into everything, forged from the toughest of steels, unbreakable and unwilling to bend to anyone’s capricious wills or whims.  

With steely fiery determination in his heart, Tony took a long and deep breath, focusing on the one thing he knew best to do whenever he found himself in a situation that was way over his head.

He got to work.

Chapter Text

It had only been a couple of days since Tony had awoken to find himself given a second chance at life and he had already learned quite a few interesting things about the world he currently resides in now.

For one, his full name is Izuku Midoriya, or at least Midoriya Izuku since in Japan, the country he was apparently born in, tended to use their last name then first name for greetings. Currently, he was twelve years old and living in a set of a trio 15-story apartment complex in the heart of Musutafu, Japan on the 7th floor. 

And yes, the Star Wars reference was not lost on him.

Two, he had a mother named Midoriya Inko (after Tony had surreptitiously searched her purse for any identification after breakfast one morning). 

She was a short plump woman with a similar shade of forest evergreen eyes with laugh lines and hair like himself that she tied up into a simple short ponytail. He had only known her for a little while, but Inko had shown nothing but kindness and supportiveness to him that had sparked an interest in wanting to learn more about this woman. 

And if Tony started seeing bits and pieces of his own mother in Inko…well that was only for him to know and for her to never find out.

Three, he had an abysmal social life. No friends to call his own, except for this Katsuki guy that Inko would mention in passing every now and then. 

He had a plethora of friends online, though. A cursory search on the computer he had found in the office room revealed a long list of websites frequented by Izuku. 

Most involved interesting topics such as heroes and ‘quirks’, superpowers that evidently a majority of the population in the world have and sometimes used in their day-to-day lives. 

His mother had one too it seemed, a weak telekinesis power that allowed her to draw small objects to herself with a couple of flicks of her fingers.

He had tried to do the same thing the night after he had seen her bring a cup of water to herself during dinner, even trying to say a magic word or two that had him flushing in embarrassment for how ridiculous it had sounded. 

Eventually, Tony had to resign to the fact that he either was one of the unlucky ones, ‘quirkless’ as was the common terminology used to describe someone without a quirk, or that he did have a quirk, but it certainly wasn’t telekinesis. 

Four, and perhaps the most pressing thing that he had discovered in this short life he had acquired, Heroes existed evidently . 

Yes, heroes as in the ones like Superman and Batman in the comic books that Tony had kept in a storage room in the attic of his cabin. Where humans of undetermined origin battled bad guys with flashy move sets and equally flashy costumes that left little to the imagination. 

Heroes, or in this case, Pro Heroes, were those who could legally use their God given powers freely and without any restrictions nor repercussions. A job that just about anyone with enough determination (and money in some cases) could apply for and get paid to do with plenty of accolades and sponsorships thrown their way if they happen to reach the top 50 ranks. 

The very idea made Tony sick to his stomach.

Heroism wasn’t something to dish out like candy. It was a duty given to those who had the fortune and ability to help those in need without the need for payment or pretty much anything really. It was a civil service for the world, to be the first line of defense whenever some Mad Titan decided to lay waste to the planet.

With a heavy sigh, Tony made his way over to the study room, the computer already powered on and a page of an article he had been reading opened in full screen. 

It was a short description of a villain attack that had happened last week, one of several that had managed to catch the radar of a couple news channels dedicated to covering anything involving heroism. Not much was known about the attack, other than the fact that it had been orchestrated by one serial killer known as Stain . 

                                                 Edge Versus Strike!

Yesterday at 8:36 .p.m. in Kamino, Yokohama City, the Dumpling Hero: BunBun (current hero rank 80), was attacked in one of the crowded alleyways of Chinatown by the infamous Pro Heroes Serial Killer, Stain, during one of her routine patrol with two interns. 

Stain had managed to lure BunBun to himself by a series of tricky maneuvers where he then managed to land several strikes onto the dumpling hero before the Ninja Hero: Edgeshot (current hero rank 9) swopped in from a nearby district to save his fellow comrade.

Together, the two were able to ward off Stain until authorities arrived minutes late. Unfortunately by then, the serial killer had escaped and still currently remains at large. Local hero agencies at Yokohama City are warning civilians to be mindful when venturing out late at night and will increase patrols in certain high risk areas.

A further search on the pro hero Edgeshot revealed a man dressed in a traditional ninja outfit with the uncanny ability to fold his body into extremely thin forms and lengths. 

Not much was known about the man as it seemed that he lived a rather solitary life, preferring not to be in the limelight compared to his other more prestigious peers. Still, it had done little to deter Edgeshot’s overall ranking in the hero system, typically seen in the top ten if not top five for a good couple of years since his shining debut. 

Typing in the name, Stain, also revealed shockingly little of the supposed serial killer. 

His reign of terror had begun almost over a decade ago, and his kill count has been in the double digits since last year and had left countless others suffering from permanent life-altering injuries. The victims of his choosing were all either pro heroes or sidekicks that Stain had deemed ‘unworthy’ by some unknown metric system only privy to himself, resulting in a world wide-nation bounty on the man and an order to capture him dead or alive. 

Further searches of his victims showed that many had actually dealt with a shady past before or during their abruptly short tenure as pro heroes, dabbling in minor crimes such as fraud, money laundering, tax evasion and, in a few horrifying cases, prostitution or illicit drug usage. 

Conveniently, however, each and every single crime that had been committed by these perpetrators had been oddly swept away by the Hero Public Safety Commission or the HPSC for short–though evidence for such an accusation was proven frustratingly difficult to gather. 

Taking a short break, Tony leaned back into his chair, idly twirling a pen in his hand with an open blanked notebook laid out in front of him on the desk. 

There were dozens of these just scattered around the apartment, it seemed that Izuku had a proclivity to jot down any ideas relating to one’s quirks or ways to improve their hero costumes to better suit their needs. 

At least the Izuku Midoriya of this world was a lover of inventions. 

But that did beg the question though…

Should he be a hero once again?

Not to say that Tony didn’t love his time as Iron Man, both the good and the bad. He had fought against some of the toughest people known to man and had come out victorious each and every single time. 

Well , Tony’s lips curled downwards, as his gaze flickered over to his chest, remembering the dark void of his arc reactor as he had laid dying in Pepper’s arms, not the last time. The last time was a pyrrhic victory–he had defeated Thanos but at the cost of his own life. 

Something binged on the screen and a short message popped into existence from the side. 

                                                Mindjack2000: You free?                     

Grinning, Tony typed up a short answer of, ‘yes, of course,’ then grabbed his headphones just in time for a Discord call to appear on screen. Clicking the acceptance button, he was greeted with a fanart of some underground pro hero only known as ‘Eraserhead’ dressed in a kitty costume that his online friend shamelessly used for their profile avatar. 

At least they had good taste.

“Yo, yo, Mindjack,” Tony said in lieu of a hello as he leaned back into his chair. “How are you?”

He had little knowledge of who this online person was, other than the fact that they typically were seen online late into the night and had a dry sense of humor that paired well with Tony’s crude jokes. 

It was a match made in heaven.

“Hey,” Mindjack said after a moment of silence. They sounded tired as hell but that wasn’t new given that it was almost two in the morning the last time Tony had checked the clock. “Day was pretty shit,” his friend continued, and there was the sound of a chip bag being ripped open in the background. “You?”

Tony almost shrugged, then remembered at the very last second that his online friend wouldn’t be able to see that. 

“Alright,” he answered, “Can’t believe I only have one more free day till school starts again.”

That was something Tony was dreaded to face. 

School had not been the best of times for him until he moved out for college, for the Massachusetts Institute for Technology (MIT) and he could party and sleep his way around the campus without any repercussions from his overbearing father. 

Having to redo elementary school all over again was going to be a complete nightmare for him. 

There was a sound of a snort echoing through the mic and Mindjack replied, their usual dry voice muffled from the crunching of chips in their mouth, “You’re telling me. I hate my classmates.”

“Let me guess,” Tony tapped the tip of his chin in mock-thought. “They just couldn’t handle your amazing personality.”

Another snort, this time more of a laugh based on how high-pitched it got toward the end of it. 

“Sure,” was Mindjack's sardonic response, “let’s go with that.”

They ended up chatting for the better part of the early morning, nothing in particular but they had some overlapping interests that didn’t include superheroes and quirks, which Tony greatly appreciated.

He disliked how ubiquitous it was to come across such topics in the world, whether through the media or even online, Tony couldn’t escape from it all.

Once the hour clock reached six did Tony finally decide to call it a night (or morning since its nearly dawn). Yawning, he bid his online friend a goodbye, promising to chat once more again when they have the time (it seemed Mindjack had a schedule that was just as sporadic as Tony’s) before powering off the computer and trudging his way back into his bedroom with uneasy sluggish steps. 

The comfy soft bed was a welcome reprieve from the dark thoughts swirling around inside his head like a maelstrom, threatening to overtake him like a hive of angry Asian giant hornets. 

His mind flickered from one subject to another: Stain, quirks, elementary school and even something as inconsequential as what he had eaten for breakfast the other day (miso soup, white rice and a pair of fried mackerel, which were all very delicious). 

Light from the morning sun filtered through the tinted small window of his bedroom, bathing part of his bed in a golden rosy hue. His gaze drifted down onto his right arm, where only a couple of days ago it had been a smoldering hot mess of ruined metal and flesh. Where he had carried the Infinity Stones and all their magnificence glory within the palm of this very same hand.

And where he had ended Thanos’s life and countless more of his minions with a simple snap of his fingers.

Tony shifted his gaze elsewhere.

Heroes in this world were not allowed to kill (barring a few particular cases and even then, it was only used as a last resort and the hero that had taken the shot was villainized for their efforts). 

They are the judge and jury, but never the executioner. 

These so-called, ‘villains’, that the media happened to portray anyone using their powers for nefarious purposes or by accident, were often ruthlessly captured and then sent to a correctional facility, or federal prison where they spent a lengthy sentence depending on the severity of their crimes. 

Little had been done to allow repeat offenders a chance of rehabilitation. 

With a heavy groan, Tony closed his eyes. 

Tomorrow (or in this case since it's already six in the morning–later today), he would come up with some sort of game plan on whether or not he should even consider becoming a hero again. 

Vigilante was an option–though considered illegal in Japan compared to their First World counterparts. 

Then there was the matter of money; he knew right away based on the sort of apartment complex that he resided in, with the graffiti marks everywhere, run down stores and windows bared with heavy reinforced steel bars, that it was in a low-income neighborhood. That meant money would be tight, and he wouldn’t have access to his generous billionaire status wealth that he had abused carelessly in his previous life. 

In layman terms, he would have to, essentially, start from the bottom to the top.

Well, Tony yawned into his pillow, I’ll figure it out eventually.

Not like he didn’t mind a good challenge anyway.

Someone was nudging a finger at his cheek. 

Grumbling, Tony swatted at the annoying appendage, hoping that it would stop whoever it was who had decided to come and bother him in the first place. Unfortunately for him, the person was as persistent as an enraged honeybee denied its precious pollen and kept prodding at him relentlessly, wearing out Tony’s patience to a fine thin point. 

“Can you stop?” he ended up eventually snapping, causing the finger to pause mid-poke. “Can’t you see I’m trying to sleep here?”

Seriously! The audacity of some people! 

A smart person would have kept their mouths shut, but this person wasn’t a genius apparently. 

“Hey!” a childish boyish voice called out into his ear, “I want to speak to you, Mr. Stark!”

Tony’s eyes shot open immediately, and he found to his great surprise that he was no longer in his bedroom resting on his comfortable mattress.

Instead, he was on a beach, the waves colored a clear aquamarine blue with tiny silver fish dotting the surface of the water as it crashed onto a sandy yellow beach. The sky above was a dark shade of violet, twilight setting in just beyond the horizon and painting the skyline with an array of lukewarm pastel colors. 

And sitting beside Tony with a bright wide smile on his face was– Izuku Midoriya. 

Seeing the boy he had become up close and personal sent a strange feeling stirring inside Tony’s chest, like looking through a funhouse mirror the boy was significantly younger than he currently was at the moment since being woken up, at the very least four years old and sporting a t-shirt and shorts with the same color scheme of New Age All Might’s costume. 

The boy tilted his head, impossibly large forest evergreen eyes glimmering with a sparkle of excitement as multi-colored stars swirled deep within its depths. 

“Oh wow!” the boy said in a high-pitched voice that spoke of awed at the person he was staring at. “You look so much cooler up close.”

“Well...I better,” Tony found himself saying automatically back in response. 

Almost self-consciously, Tony raised a hand onto his face, feeling the familiar cracked skin and facial hair of himself in his previous life. Somehow, without his knowledge, he had been reverted back to the day he had fought Thanos, but without the charred armor mess of his right arm and the arc reactor that was strapped onto his chest glowed with a healthy bluish sheen.

For a long moment, neither one said another word. 

Izuku seemed content on staring up at him in wonder while Tony marveled at the feeling of being back into his old body like jumping into one of the MARK series suits and cruising around LA with Red Hot Chili Pepper blaring through the speakers of his helmet.

“So,” Tony eventually broke the silence that had fallen between them, “you’re…”

The boy’s smile grew even wider. 

“Midoriya Izuku,” he confirmed Tony's suspicion. A short pause as Izuku seemed unable to formulate a coherent sentence without squealing his little heart out. “And you’re Tony Stark. The Iron Man, right in the flesh!”

Chuckling, Tony flashed a pose. 

“The one and only.”

The little green-haired kid reminded him dearly of Peter, nothing but a big old ball of energy and rushed questions that would put most people into a concussion based on the amount of word vomit they could spew out within a minute. 

“Tell me then, Bean-sprout,” Tony’s newly christened nickname for the boy that had him squealing again in delight, “where are we?”

“Oh.”

Izuku took a look around as well as if now just realizing it himself that they were currently sitting on a beach. The stars within his eyes seemed to swirl intensely for a brief moment. 

“I don’t know, Mr. Stark,” the boy admitted, sheepishly glancing back at him. “But it looks like we’re in some sort of space that is bordered between our reality and dreams.” 

Izuku then rubbed several of his fingers over his chin, muttering more in a low voice that Tony couldn’t catch in the slightest no matter how hard he tried to strain his ears.

Blinking, he took that minute to comprehend what the boy had said as Izuku continued muttering to himself. 

A space between dreams and reality sounded oddly specific and fantastical. A bit like the mental visions Wanda had given to him during their first encounter in Johannesburg, South Africa. 

“Mr. Stark?”

Tony glanced down to find that Izuku had finished his mumbling and was now peering up at him with evergreen eyes wide in concern, the stars within a kaleidoscope of bright flashes of light.

His heart twanged a bit at, ‘Mr. Stark.’  

Peter used to call him that. 

“Is everything alright?” Izuku finally asked, wringing the bottom of his shirt in a nervous manner. “Did I do something… wrong ?” implying that it was a common occurrence based on the cautious tone of his voice and made another twang in Tony’s heart again, because there was no reason for the kid to ever consider thinking something like that about himself.

But Tony remembered the man with the smoking sneering mouth.

“No, Bean-sprout,” Tony sighed out, shifting his body to get more comfortable on the sandy yellow beach. Tiny rocks and broken seashells dig into the back of his legs. Anakin Skywalker was right to not like sand–it's coarse, rough and irritating on the skin. 

He gestured for Izuku to come closer, and the boy did after a brief moment of hesitation, eyes flickering down to Tony’s spread arms and up back to his face, the stars dimming in hue. 

Once Izuku nestled his head against the solid mass of muscles that was Tony’s chest, did Tony speak up once more again, elaborating a bit on his curt answer.

“You did nothing wrong, kid,” he reassured the young boy, “It’s just not everyday you wake up in someone else's body.”

He still wasn’t used to the sensation of being alive again. And in a drastically younger age too. 

Izuku hummed into the fabric of his shirt but remained surprisingly silent. 

His body was so small, Tony could easily sling him over his shoulder with one arm alone, but that made it all the more reason for Tony to be gentle with his words, lest he scared him. Morgan was in a similar predicament, she hadn’t always been the zesty, courageous girl that demanded things from her parents–she used to be quite shy and meek till Tony and Pepper were able to manage to bring their daughter out of her shell bit by bit.

The thought of his daughter brought a small smile onto Tony’s face.

“Wanna hear a funny story?” he ended up asking.

Izuku stilled for a moment, then lifted his head so fast that he nearly clipped Tony’s jaw with his head. 

“Of course, Mr. Stark!” 

The stars were brighter than ever in the boy’s eyes as he clenched his tiny chubby hands together in anticipation. 

Letting out a short chuckle, Tony held onto the bouncing bundle of joy in his arms as he told a story of how Morgan would frequent his workshop/laboratory to be close with her father and to also try her hands on building robots just like him. He had eventually given in to her puppy dog eyes and allowed her to use a blowtorch (with proper safety equipment on, of course) for the first time in her life. 

To say that Pepper had been pissed when she found out a day later would be the understatement of the century. 

All the while Izuku listened raptly with a big toothy smile stretched across his cheeks, laughing a full belly laugh as Tony added a little extra silly facial expression for some of the more hilarious moments. 

By the time night had fallen with the sky now a deep simmer of midnight blue with a smattering of tiny stars dotted across the skyline, Tony had long since finished speaking about his wacky adventures with his daughter and was now discussing with Izuku to learn more about the world that he currently lives in. 

“So, people really get all hot and bothered for these heroes, uh?” Tony said as he uncrossed his legs. The gentle waves nibbled the tips of his feet, and the salty scent of sulfur filled his nostrils.

Izuku nodded his head enthusiastically. 

“Yep! Pro Heroes are the backbone of our society and without them we would be pretty much stuck in the Dark Age.”

The ‘Dark Age’ was what was referred to by historians as the time period between the emergence of quirks and humanity’s response to said emergence. 

It was not a good decade to be alive based on the number of all out wars, fights, and general chaos that had occurred in numerous parts of the world. Even now, some countries like North Korea, a good chunk of Africa and South America and the Middle East were all still suffering from the long-term effects of that particular gap in history. 

It was scary reading all about it on Wikipedia.

“And people such as that All Might guy is the pinnacle of hero society if I’m, correct?”

All Might, the grinning broad man who adorned every spare inch of Tony’s bedroom. The face that Tony had to look at every morning when he opened up his eyes and the last thing he would see when he closed his eyes for bed. 

A man who had irrevocably changed the course of history forever. A man with powers so great that they say very few could even dare hope to dethrone his number one status in not only Japan but almost the entire world. 

With the body of an Adonis and an extra buffed up Captain America with the combined strength of both the Hulk and Thor by a  magnitude of a hundred, All Might was certainly a force to be reckoned with. 

And someone Tony might have to potentially avoid at all costs.

The stars within Izuku’s eyes radiated a pleasant green glow, the boy jumping up and down on his feet.

“ Yes! All Might is amazing! He can do everything all by himself with just his quirk alone. That’s why he’s called the Symbol of Peace in Japan.” 

With an over dramatical punch to the air with his tiny fist, Izuku shouted out one of the man’s most famous catchphrases.

“Have no fear, for…I am here!”

Tony shook his head at the adorable sight, lips tilted a crooked angle in amusement from how ridiculous Bean-sprout looked. 

In a way, if the Capsicle was to somehow be reincarnated into this world, Tony had a very strong feeling Steve Rogers would get along with this All Might fellow like gasoline poured onto a campfire. 

“Speaking of which,” realizing something of great importance, “do we have one of those too? A quirk?” 

Remembering how Inko was able to seamlessly lift small objects into the palm of her hand, Tony was quite curious to see if they had something similar in powers. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but he could already envision a couple of applications he could utilize the telekinesis quirk with his armors if he ever decided to make them again.

The glow within Izuku’s eyes dimmed abruptly, and the young boy dropped his arm listlessly back to his side. 

“Oh…”

His gaze had averted elsewhere, not allowing Tony a chance to catch the absolute sheer terror that had crossed his face. 

The wind started to pick up, sending specks of yellow sand into Tony’s eyes.

“I…” 

Izuku started to speak only to then stop himself shortly, a big frown appearing over his lips. He hung his head down. A sign of defeat and a stark difference to the bright jubilant self that the young boy had emulated throughout their entire conversation.

“Bean-sprout ?”

“I don’t have one, Mr. Stark.” 

Izuku’s voice was a broken terrible thing, sounding like he had just admitted a sinfully dark secret to an apathetic pastor.

“I'm quirkless.”

Tony’s eyes grew wide in shock.

Quirkless. 

The remaining 30% of a dying race that was slowly becoming all but relevant in today’s quirk heavy focused society. Variation of treatments to those unfortunate enough to not be blessed with such powers were either put into two camps: disdain or pity. 

He hadn’t done too much research into it (bearing in mind that said information on such a sensitive topic was extremely lacking in searchable concrete data), but what Tony did end up finding painted the life of an average quirkless person as something alarmingly close to a second-class citizen. 

Tony swallowed down any additional questions he had for the boy with an audible gulp, such as how Izuku knew that he was quirkless and whether or not there were any confirming data such as a test result or x-ray that he could look at to determine its validity, and instead quickly scooped Izuku back into his arms.

One of the many things Morgan had loved to tell him numerous times was that he gave the best kinds of hugs, so Tony made sure to channel all of his fatherly energy into his embrace. He heard the young boy let out a soft wet hiccup as Izuku buried his small head onto the curvature of Tony’s shoulder.

They stayed like this for a long, long time until the sun rose up and Tony awoke to find himself transported back into his bedroom with the afternoon sunlight currently shining through his windows. 

Staring up at the ceiling (where another one of All Might’s posters was plastered above to beam his shiny white teeth unhelpfully down at him) Tony let out a punctuated weary sigh.

This sucked.

Quirkless , the word ran through Tony’s head in a circle, overtaking every other thought in his head. I have no special superpower of my own it seems.

Normally, he wouldn’t care–he had fought plenty of dangerous foes with little more than his brain and a box of scraps and metal. 

But…

Tony shifted his gaze elsewhere. 

The way Bean-sprout had looked utterly devastated at his quirkless status had led Tony to believe that the young boy would have preferred a much different outcome in his life. Being quirkless should not have been considered a death sentence in this world and yet the invisible noose that looped around Izuku’s neck was all but a premonition of his inevitable lackluster future. 

Clenching his teeth, Tony made up his mind.

He had been a hero once before, long before such powers such as quirks had ever existed, long before this world had ever dared to think that heroes and villains would become a part of their everyday lives.

Don’t worry, Bean-sprout.

Tony started to close his eyes again, ready to let himself drift back into what he prayed would be a peaceful restful slumber.  

I’m here.

Chapter Text

Like the once great pop singer of her time, Miley Cyrus, had once said: Monday came at Tony fast like a wrecking ball. 

Grumbling expletives not suited for minors beneath his breath, Tony finished putting on the last of his uniform, leaving the black and gray overcoat that all Musutafu Central Elementary students have to wear partially opened to reveal the white shirt blouse beneath it.

It wasn’t a bad outfit all things considered. A bit too monochromatic for his liking though.

Checking himself at the mirror one last time, Tony took stock of his appearance. His hair had undergone a slight upgrade, having managed to comb through all the knots and trimmed the dead ends all by himself last night. He would still need to visit a barber to get it exactly the way that he wanted it to be but seeing that he was still currently a eleven-year-old with little money to his name, that would have to be done sometime later in the future. 

Which meant he might have to find a part-time job.

His uniform had been meticulously ironed, not a wrinkle or loose stray thread in sight, and Tony prided himself on having tied his bowtie within a couple of a second, his hands going through the familiar motion as his mind wandered about on other such important topics such as how was he going to survive his (technically) first day back in elementary school. 

The look of surprise he had received from Inko when she stepped in to remind him of his breakfast was well worth the awkwardness of having to explain how he was able to do it without her help. 

It was a good thing that the Internet also existed in this world as well.

Satisfied for now, Tony swooped down low to grab at his large yellow bag filled to the brim with an assortment of books, textbooks and writing utensils that would help him navigate through the more tedious parts of his classes. It was a darn shame that Japan could be so technology advanced and yet still remain somewhat stuck in the stone ages with their love for fax machines, landline phones and beepers.

One of the first things he planned to buy when he got some sort of income was a freaking laptop .

He found Inko in the kitchen, staring at a coffee machine that was currently spurting out hot air instead of the rich delicious coffee that he desperately needed to get through the early morning. Muttering something quietly to herself, she pressed a button and watched with a growing frown as the machine made a low whining noise in response. 

“Is something wrong?”

“Ah!” 

Inko jumped nearly a foot off the ground. Clutching a hand to her chest, she whirled around to face him, nearly smacking him with a pan that had been quickly levitated to her with the other hand. 

“Izuku, sweetie,” she said through a rush of choked air once she saw him, “You nearly scared me!” 

An apologetic look crossed over Tony’s face as he bowed his head in shame. 

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t my intention.”

He would have to be extra careful around her; given the state of the neighborhood they resided in, Tony had a weird feeling that break-ins were a common daily occurrence in the apartment complex. He made a mental note to add in a built-in security system on his already growing list of things he planned to do once he found a part-time job.

The frown and fear quickly melted away like sunlight onto a rainy dark cloud, and Inko gave him a tender smile that was only slightly strained around the edges of her cheeks and did little to alleviate the wrinkles creased around her brows.

“It’s alright, sweetie,” she insisted, placing the pan back into its proper place. “Just…next time let me know when you’re here.” At his promise, Inko continued, eyes directed now onto the coffee machine in front of them. “As for your question, this thing has been giving me nothing but grief all morning. I thought Mr. Watanabe had fixed it, but–” 

She gave the thing a disappointed sigh like it had personally offended her and her ancestors. 

“Apparently not. ”

Tony glanced over at the machine, mind racing with possible solutions. 

“I can take a look at it, if you want,” the words came out before he could stop himself.

Inko stuttered, evergreen forest eyes widening in what he interpreted as a mixture of surprise and slight apprehension at his request before narrowing down a little in suspicion. He had seen that sort of look before, though in this case, he assumed the woman hadn’t meant to not mistrust her son’s own words.

“I saw some stuff on the Internet,” Tony said in hopes that it would reduce some of the skepticism lurking just beneath her facial features. “I’ve been thinking of dabbling into engineering as a profession.”

Inko blinked. Very slowly.

“You… don’t want to be a hero anymore?”

Oh.

Internally, Tony cringed to himself, realizing that he might have made a grave mistake.

At least it explained all the All Might posters. 

But from what he could infer from Izuku’s own admission of being quirkless, the probability of him actually becoming a hero was already slim to none.

After all, the last time he had checked, Japan currently had no quirkless heroes in their roster.

“I mean…” 

Bringing a hand up to nervously rub the back of his neck, Tony tried to think of a suitable response. 

“I still want to be one, but I figured it’s good to have options, you know?”

There wasn’t any law that said he couldn’t build himself a hero suit.

For some reason, Inko stared at him long enough for it to grow slightly uncomfortable before shifting her gaze onto the clock hung up above the television screen in their tiny joint kitchen/living room space.

“Okay,” she said, tone devoid of any emotion he could decipher, “We still have some time before your classes start anyway. Breakfast is on the table, and you know where the tool kit is right?”

Tony thought of the most likely place one would store it.

“In the closet?”

She nodded, turning away to make her leave.

“I’ll go and get ready then.”

After she went into her room down the hall, Tony let out a quiet sigh of relief. 

That was a close one.

He wiped the sweat off his brows. Now that he knew for certain that Bean-sprout had wanted to be a hero all his life despite not being blessed with superpowers was all the more reason Tony had decided it might be in his best interest to make another suit of armor.

He found the tool kit after a bit of searching, and pried the coffee machine apart, noting all the crisscrossed wires and bolts screwed in the wrong way. It was laughably easy how quickly he had finished fixing it all back together, his hands going through the repetitive motions as a smile grew a little on his face like a sunflower finding a way to blossom inside a desolate wasteland.

 Just like old times.

By the time Inko had returned, dressed in a black loose blouse paired with a black skirt that reached past her knees, Tony had just finished eating the last of his breakfast, stuffing the remaining of his toast and jam into his mouth.

She paused as she was smoothing out the ends of her uniform, taking in the still steaming cup of coffee awaiting for her at her place at the table. Forest green eyes widened in a comical manner as she rushed over to Tony’s with hurried footsteps that were cladded in a pair of bunny slippers.

“Oh, sweetie!” she exclaimed, glancing back and forth at Tony and the cup of coffee with her mouth hanging down low, “You actually got it working again!”

Grinning, Tony drowned the rest of his milk.

“Yep, just figured it was a couple of parts that needed some reworking.” He moved his hand past the cup and patted the fully operating coffee machine that he had placed beside it. “Now this bad boy can fix all your coffee urges in a matter of seconds.”

Of course, he failed to mention that he already had two cups of black coffee himself to stay awake for the long morning.

Blinking, Inko let out a soft giggle as she shook her head fondly at him.

“My sweet, smart, little Izuku,” she cooed, and Tony would be lying if he didn’t say that the praise had him preening a little, the tips of his ears flushed a bright red.

Trying to not show the full effect of her words, Tony aimed what he hoped could be interpreted as a casual shrug at the woman. 

“It’s nothing,” he insisted with a tiny bit more force than necessary. “But if there is anything else that you think that needs fixing, then I’m happy to help.”

She stared for a beat longer than normal, then seemed to have decided not to press any further, moving instead to take her seat beside him.

“Of course,” she said, taking a small sip of her coffee and let out a surprise yet content sigh that it was to her liking (Tony had taken a guess based on Inko’s personality, and had added a couple of spoonful of sugar and a good splash of hazelnut creamer and almond milk). “We should hurry though, otherwise we might miss the 7:01 bus.”

They talk as she scoffed down her breakfast; the discussion was mainly more on the goings and comings of their fellow apartment residents, such as who was getting married or having another baby. The Tanakas from two doors down had experienced a terrible break-in that had left the matriarchy with a severe concussion that would take some time to heal. Inko expressed her desire to invest in a better home security system that fueled Tony’s determination to create one himself for them to use sometime in the future.

He had already seen the number of locks and bolts that made up their front door. 

It wasn’t normal.

Eventually they got ready to leave, Tony stuffing his feet into a pair of well-maintained but obviously worn past Nike Air Force shoes dyed a deep red with black laces and thick white soles at the bottom. He could tell it had been a pricy purchase given how the rest of the shoes placed on the racks were nowhere near the same quality or brand as the ones on his feet.

Outside, the air was chilly but not to the point of being unbearable. The streets are semi barren with a couple of people also dressed in their business clothes or school uniform heading to their respective destinations as they stare at their phones or talk with their friends. So far no one had looked completely abnormal. Save for a High Schooler whose head resembled that of a King Cobra snake, their slit eyes shaded an eerie yellowish green, Tony had expected to see a wide array of characters that would put the Hulk to shame on his way to school.

Then again, Tony had seen his fair share of unusual people in his previous life: from a talking raccoon that spoke in a snarky Brooklyn accent, to a blue-skinned woman who was made with more metal and wires than blood and bones.

So, maybe he had sort of expected something along those lines.

The 7:01 bus came well on time by a minute, and the two boarded after a pair of Junior High Schoolers with bunny ears poking at the top of their heads. Japan’s metro system was much better than what Tony had experienced back in LA and New York and used the window seat he had managed to grab in the nick of time with Inko as a way to gain better access to the world around his neighborhood.

A concrete jungle lined with family style restaurants and big-name brand stores such as Uniqlo and Muji lined the streets on both sides of the bus complete with a Starbucks and a Family Mart camped every other block. They stopped briefly three bus stops away, and a woman dressed in light blue scrubs entered and took a seat across from them. Tiny purple spikes cover every inch of her skin, most centered around her face and neck. When they made eye contact, the spikes puffed up in indignance and Tony quickly averted his gaze away.

Eventually they came to their stop, the large white and gray building that was Musutafu Central Elementary School was a sight for sore eyes with the only greenery in view being the semi spacious courtyard that housed a couple of cherry blossom trees and half dead shrubs.

“You’ll be okay, sweetie?” Inko asked as she took another glance over at him once they exited the bus. “I don’t see Katsuki-kun anywhere. Maybe he’s inside already?”

Tony doesn’t respond, too busy staring at one of the students whose neck is long and bendy like a giraffe.

I wonder if she has to bend her head every time she walks past through a door, Tony wondered as the student entered the courtyard with her friends.

“Izuku?”

Shit .

Tony glanced back up at the woman to find Inko staring down at him, a worried frown on her face.

“Sorry about that,” he quickly said before she could open up her mouth, “I was just distracted, that’s all.”

How could he not stop and stare at all the fascinating things that capture his attention?

Inko pressed her lips together, a hint of doubt appearing in her expression as she tucked a loose strand of green hair away from her eyes to behind her ear.

“Okay,” she relented, shrugging her shoulders. “School is about to start soon.” And, as if on cue, a bell rang out throughout the courtyard, sending dozens of gray and black uniformed students clamoring up the steps in a rush to enter the building. “I will be working late today, so let me know when you are planning to head home or maybe staying over at Katsuki-kun’s place.”

The last part was worded almost like she was hoping that he might choose the latter option and Tony did his best to not show any visible reactions, only giving Inko his best dazzling smile. He remembered Katsuki —the blond spiky haired kid who was loud and obnoxious as was his God given quirk, Explosion.

And also apparently absolutely hated Izuku’s guts.

“Of course, I’ll inform you of my plans.”

Another stare, this time longer than a full minute before Inko slowly nodded her head back in response.

“Okay….” 

She reached over and pinched his cheek, eliciting a small yelp from Tony.

“Have fun in school, sweetie!”

He watched her head the opposite way, heading to her work in some insurance office for villain incidents somewhere in downtown Musutafu before turning to the direction of the school. As he headed up the stairs, a strange feeling stirred within his stomach like he drank a bottle of hot sauce for breakfast. Was it nervousness about starting school again? 

Or was it something else entirely different?

His feet somehow had guided him through the hallway, up another flight of steps and up to the front of a wooden door with a plaque above reading: [GRADE 6]-Classroom A. Stifling a heavy sigh, Tony swallowed down the lump lodged inside the back of his throat.

Great , he grumbled to himself as he slid the door open and found more than a dozen or so faces peering back at him as he stepped through, and shut it closed behind him, I’m late.

“Midoriya Izuku,” a tired irritating voice like nails over a chalkboard drawled up at the front, and Tony directed his gaze onto a tall man that he presumed was the homeroom teacher for his class. 

He was not only tall, but sported a long pointy nose that did little to hide the sneer he was currently giving to Tony, with his greasy chestnut orange hair slicked back with the front ends parted to the side of his face.

“Is there a reason as to why you have decided to come into my classroom three minutes late?”

Snickers rippled across the classroom, but Tony pointedly ignored it. It would take more than a couple of snide comments to get underneath his skin of iron and metal.

The teacher arched an unimpressed brow, clearly waiting for his response, and Tony decided right then and there to let loose a little and have a bit of fun at the man’s own expense.

“I’m so sorry, Sensei,” overly exaggerating the proper title for his homeroom. More snickers erupted, and the man’s sneer deepened. “But I just couldn’t help but enjoy the scenery today. Have you taken a look outside the window? Not that I expect a man of your caliber to have time to do anything but grade papers and harass students, you know.” 

By now the homeroom teacher’s brows were currently way up high above his wrinkly spotted forehead.

“Is that so…” he said, right eye twitching a little. “Then we can discuss more about your tardiness during Lunch hour.”

Some of the students let out a couple of “oohs!” at his possible detention, but Tony knew when he had won a battle, and took the words as a final dismissal, weaving his way through the chaotic mess of students and strewn backpacks to find his desk several rows away from the front of the room and beside a set of clear windows that overlooked a construction site.

Annoyingly, a few late stranglers came into the classroom not a minute later and all the homeroom teacher did was give them a light warning to not do it again.

Favoritism at its finest.

“Now then,” The teacher marked something on his desk before turning his full attention onto the classroom, instantly quieting down the chatty students without saying a word. “There are things you must know about this term if you are planning on getting into a good Junior High School next year. Try as you might, but I won’t be surprised if most of you end up at Aldera Junior High.”

As he droned on about the importance of one’s grade and extracurricular activities, Tony zoned out, mind occupied with other important matters such as the delicious lunch Inko had graciously packed for him in a cute All Might themed bento box.

The hours flew by with relative quickness and before he knew it, it was already time for lunch, the bell ringing again to signal the change in schedule as the students started to stand up from their seats, chatting excitedly amongst themselves as they grabbed their own specialized bento boxes. 

Some began to head over to the cafeteria which was located downstairs in the main hall or outside where the sun provided ample warmth and light to combat the brisk cold of April’s capricious weather.

Tony moved to the rest of the students shuffling through the doorway when he was rudely stopped by a lanky brute with spiky blond hair and piercing red eyes. Said eyes stared at him with such disdain that Tony was momentarily taken aback at how much it reminded him of Thanos during their last encounter on his home planet, Titan. 

Flanking on each of the blond boy’s sides were two other boys, one short and round with red scaly bat wings on his back and the other long and skinny with abnormally elongated fingers that grew a couple of more inches within seconds.

“Oi,” the blond boy said, a rough voice that easily cut through the chatter in the room, “ Deku .”

The name does something funny in Tony’s chest, and he scowls back in return.

Deku. Meaning useless, stemming from the word ‘Dekunobou’ or ‘someone who can’t do anything.’ A derogatory nickname given to him by one Bakugou Katsuki—his ex-best friend.

Who needs enemies when you have friends like him.

Tony’s scowl deepened when he noticed the remaining students left inside the classroom had stayed behind to watch what they were hoping was going to be an inevitable fight between them. Even the teacher who had taught their English class from last period took one look at the both of them and headed out the door without so much as a second glance, their arms stuffed to the brim with essays and assignments.

Not wanting to wait any longer to eat his delicious meal, Tony made a show of looking around the room before pointing at himself.

“You’re talking to me?” he asked flatly. “Cause I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say as Bakugo’s eyes narrowed sharply in retaliation to his words, the palms of his hands glowing dangerously bright with tiny orange sparks and black smoke.

Explosion was a terrible superpower to give to an elementary school kid.

“What the hell did you say, shitty Deku?”

Tony scoffed.

“Seriously? Don’t tell me you’re as deaf as you’re as dumb? Not a good look for you, Porcupine ,” taking absolute delight in the way Bakugo stuttered at the newly christened nickname Tony had dished out for him. “I don’t like repeating myself twice.”

It wasn’t like it wasn’t a bad choice of name—the kid’s hair seriously reminded him of the spiky mammal.

Before Bakugo could resort to violence, given that he was now emitting black smoke from both of his hands, another voice roughly cut in, this one significantly older and sounding very much annoyed at their disruption.

“I suggest, Mr. Bakugo,” their homeroom teacher appeared from the door, quickly approaching them with long strides as his face barely contained his disdain for them both, “that if you want to discuss something private with Midoriya that you do so outside of the classroom.”

There was a hint of a potential discipline if Bakugo did not comply, and the blond brute was at least smart enough to not take his chances, his lips pressed down into a thin firm line. 

He pinned Tony with a particularly harsh glare and hissed out in a voice low enough for only him to hear, “Meet me at the swings, Deku,” before turning sharply on his heels and marching away. 

The rest of his lackeys hurried after him.

Tony watched them go, debating internally if he was even planning to follow through with the Porcupine’s demands before his homeroom teacher cleared his throat loud enough to gain the attention of everyone else in the room.

“If you are not planning on staying here for lunch, then I suggest you all leave before you have to explain to your parents as to why you had to stay late in school on your first day back in school.” 

That quickly got the rest of the students to evacuate leaving behind just Tony and the homeroom teacher. 

“Now then,” Tony turned to find the man’s disdain had not disappeared, if anything, it grew tenfold the moment they had locked eyes. “About your punishment for coming late into my classroom today…”

15 minutes later, Tony left the room with a dark cloud hanging over his head, his appetite a thing of the past as he stomped through the barren hallway, uncaring about his surroundings.

He has cleaning duties for the next two weeks. And the damn homeroom teacher had decided it would be fine if he did it all by himself.

The man had started a war, and Tony intended on winning.

His stomach chose that moment to let its presence known again and Tony carefully weighed his options; he could eat his lunch in the cafeteria, but that meant finding a seat by himself and he had no friends to call on his own to claim a table with. The bathroom was out of the question due to sanitary reasons, and he certainly did not want to go back into the classroom where his homeroom teacher was no doubt still lurking about inside there.

That left him with one last place.

Sitting beneath the shade of a gnarly looking oak tree, Tony took another bite out of his bento box, savoring the delicious, crisped chicken Inko had graciously made for him for lunch. All around him, children of various ages played together or alone in the rocky field that was their playground. Some were using their superpowers to play soccer, kicking the ball far harder and faster than most athletes could ever dream of doing back in Tony’s previous world. One of them kicked the ball hard enough to let out a tiny sonic boom as it entered the goal post with a distinct clank and bounced off the railing.

He was almost done eating when a dark shadow crept up on him, and Tony looked up to find Bakugo looming over him, his lackeys not far behind.

The boy clenched his hands into smoking sparkling fists.

“Shitty, Deku,” he growled, red eyes zeroing in on Tony’s face, “I told you to meet me by the swings.”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Tony gestured down to the opened bento box on his lap.

“As you can see, Porcupine —” grinning triumphantly when the nickname caused said boy to bristle like the animal, “I’m kinda eating here. If whatever you want to say to me is so important, then I’m sure you can wait till after school is done.”

Hopefully, Tony would have managed to have evaded them by exiting out from another backdoor entrance.

For some reason, Bakugo stilled, cocking his head at Tony like he had suddenly manifested two heads as his hidden quirk. Tony tensed in anticipation of an outburst.

“So that’s how it is…” he muttered low to himself but loud enough for Tony to hear every single word. “One measly spring break and suddenly you’ve grown a damn spine the moment you get back to school.” 

Bakugo pressed a hand into the open palm of his other hand, a miniature explosive boom echoing loud enough to draw eyes onto them. 

“Well, that won’t do. That won’t do at all, shitty Deku.” 

In the depths of his red gleaming eyes was the promise of something terrible, a promise of a world of pain and hurt and if Tony had been anybody else, he would have cowered in fear.

But he was anything but anybody. 

He was Tony Stark.

And Starks never backed down.

Standing up, Tony calmly shut the lid of his bento box. The blond kid had a few good inches on him, but that didn’t deter Tony from posturing up to his fullest height, forest green eyes hardening like cut pieces of a jade stone from the finest manufacturer. 

If Bakugo had expected him to remain compliant and fearful, then he didn’t show his shock, only deepening the scowl on his lips. The rest of his lackeys though, took a cautionary step back.

“I’m only going to say this once, Porcupine, so pay close attention,” Tony said, his voice steely and carrying easily through the hushed silence of the playground. 

Everyone was watching them. 

“If you know what’s good for you, you would back down right this instant. I’m not the same Deku that you think I am. I’m not going to take your bullshit anymore.” The curse had Bakugo widening his eyes, his lackeys also dropping their jaws in surprise. “So, let’s just let bygones be bygones and put this all behind us, uh? Be the bigger person.”

Not really expecting a response nor wanting to stay any longer, Tony turned sharply on his heels and began to walk away, the crowd of students that had gathered around to watch parting ways for him like Moses did to the Red Sea to help his people escape Egypt.

He had only managed to get a couple of steps in when the sound of an enraged growl pierced through the air.

“The fuck you mean, shitty quirkless Deku!” Heavy footsteps quickly made their way over to him from behind. “You think you can tell me what to do!?”

Without any warning, a hand shot out and grabbed Tony from behind, and something hot was pressed roughly through the fabric of his clothes, burning past through the flammable material and burning his skin like he had gotten hit with a full blast of Thor’s destructive lightning bolt from his hammer. The sickly sweet scent of burning flesh permeated his nostrils.

Tony yelled .

“Oi,” Bakugo’s voice was dangerously close to his ear and the sound of crackles was deafening. “Answer me!”

Something snapped inside Tony, something deep and primal, and full of rage as he turned around, pivoting smoothly on the balls of his feet as he landed with startingly accuracy a well-aimed and highly unexpected punch onto Porcupine’s smug ugly face.

There was the satisfying sound of bones breaking beneath his fist and Bakugo howled , clutching his hands over nose as blood gushed out in waves down his gray uniform and staining the ground beneath him in a pretty shade of red. 

The boy bent himself low onto the ground in an effort to not ruin his clothing any further.

“Didn’t I tell you, Porcupine,” gaining Bakugo’s attention once again. There was so much hatred swirling within those dark red eyes that Tony couldn’t help but smile, showing his once best friend a mouthful of his sparkly white teeth.

“I don’t like repeating myself twice.”

Chapter Text

Tony was starting to understand why Bruce Banner was always angry.

People were idiots.

The taste of victory was still very fresh inside Tony’s mouth as he and Porcupine waited in the small office that belonged to the Principal of the Musutafu Elementary School. They sat in silence as frustrated voices could be heard behind the closed glass door leading out to the rest of the staffing room.

His right shoulder was still throbbing something fierce—the school nurse, a genial middle-aged woman with a simple ice quirk that allowed her to create infinite ice packs for students coming in with nothing more serious than a sprained ankle—had done her best to alleviate his pain. 

Still, she had insisted that he should go to a hospital after they had finished speaking with the principal and get it properly checked by a doctor. For now, she had given him some ointment for the worst of the burns that had Tony smelling like peppermint oil and some kid-size Tylenol for him to swallow down with a glass of ice water.

In a way, he had gotten off lightly compared to the boy sitting next to him.

According to the snippets of conversation he had managed to overhear between the school nurse and Bakugo, the blond boy would have to most likely go for surgery as the punch Tony had given to him had broken his nose cleanly in three places. If he wanted to be able to properly smell his own ass again (his words, not the nurse’s), then he would have to do it quickly.

Tony hadn’t stopped smiling since.

Ten minutes later and the door finally opened, and walking in was their disgruntled homeroom teacher who looked like he would rather be anywhere else than here and the principal, a short chubby man with long white fuzzy eyebrows that nearly covered his entire face.

Tony briefly wondered if it had any relation to the man’s possible quirk.

The principal took his seat in his designated spot behind his desk while their homeroom teacher remained by the side of the door, enough to allow the man to see them both but also not allow them a chance to exit out the room without running into him. He had his arms crossed and leveled a sneer at both Tony and Bakugo, the latter of which grumbled, his brows scrunching around the copious number of bandages and gauzes that cover his broken nose.

At least he wasn’t the only one their homeroom teacher was pissed about.

A few seconds continued to pass as the principal looked at Tony first then at Bakugo before clearing his throat, finally speaking out at last.

“It appears we have encountered a most peculiar situation.”

Tony nearly snorted. Peculiar his ass.

The principal stared at him some more, thick fuzzy brows knitting together in a pensive manner before speaking again albeit in a slower and more careful tone than before.

“Well just to let you both know that both of your parents have already been informed of your fight and will be here shortly.”

Porcupine cursed underneath his breath while Tony scowled; he didn’t want Inko to be involved with this. She already had done so much in the short amount of time he had gotten to know her.

“Now then,” the principal leaned back into his chair once he was certain they had both received the message, “I’m quite curious as to how this situation had come about?” Though Tony couldn’t see the man’s eyes, he could feel the heavy gaze set solely onto him first.

Tony shrugged, feigning innocence.

“I don’t know, Principal…” he started, keeping his tone deceptively light despite the thick tension in the room. “Why don’t you ask Porcupine over there why he decided it was right for him to intrude in my personal space?”

Said Porcupine shot Tony a nasty glare, the palms of his hands sparkling brightly with miniature explosions, ready to launch himself at him for round two.

Tony simply grinned.

It seemed the kid needed to be taught another lesson on what happens when you mess with a Stark.

A sudden but loud cough stopped them from going at each other and the principal leveled them both each with a deep frown on his face, shaking his own head in what was most likely disappointment. Meanwhile, their homeroom teacher looked as if he had swallowed an egg whole with the shell still on.

Once they settled back into their seats, the principal turned his attention right onto Bakugo.

“Is this true, young man?” he asked.

The blond boy seethed in his seat, dark red eyes flickering between the principal and Tony before averting down to the floor. A sign of defeat.

“Yeah…” he growled out through clenched teeth.

Humming, the principal stroked through a long strand of his brow as he considered the implication of Bakugo’s admission of starting the fight.

“And because of that you had decided to…” angling his head toward Tony to elaborate more on his actions.

Grinning proudly, Tony had no difficulty finishing the sentence for the principal.

“And I have decided to give the Porcupine a piece of my mind in self-defense after he had attacked me. Horribly.”

Then, as if to seal the deal, Tony carefully lowered the top of his shirt, revealing to the world the nasty wound Bakugo had oh so kindly had left for him. 

Based on how the man had paled significantly and the way their homeroom teacher hissed underneath his breath that it wasn’t a pretty sight.

“I didn’t do shit!” The blond boy exploded in a fit of rage, no longer able to control his temper. Though the heat of his words came out slightly muffled due to his broken nose. “He’s just a quirkless piece of Deku!”

“ Enough.”

The thick brows had parted ways to reveal a pair of cool blue eyes that shut Bakugo up in an instant. The principal pulled himself forward in his chair, creating an imposing look as he steepled his fingers together.

“I have heard enough,” he said after a couple of moments of heavy silence, his voice low and warning of future punishments if another peep came out from the boy’s mouth. Tony had to admit, this was probably the first time Bakugo had ever been told to shut up and he relished the way blond kid’s eyes seemed to bulge out within its sockets.

Too bad he didn’t have his phone on him to capture the moment forever.

Fifteen minutes later, both of their parents came in.

Like a tornado bent purely on sheer destruction, Porcupine’s mother had burst into the room, barely able to contain her absolute rage as she set her sights onto her son. A loud smack on the back of his head along with some snark words was her way of greeting him, and Tony watched as the two started to bicker and snarl at one another like rabid dogs.

At least the father, a man with a decently muscular build and soft brown hair and equally soft brown eyes was at least more sensible than his wife and greeted the principal with a demure bow of his body. He adjusted the rectangular glasses on his face nervously as his family continued to argue in the background.

“Mitsuki…” he tried, only to be ignored by his wife. “Honey…we should at least wait to hear what’s going on before we decide on how we should punish Katsuki.”

“Doesn’t matter!” the wife—Mitsuki—shrilled, grinding her teeth together. It was eerie how much Bakugo had inherited many of her features down to the same shade of dark red eyes that burned with inner rage and spikes of blond hair. “We know this will happen eventually, Masaru! We should have punished him sooner.”

Then she swiveled her gaze onto Tony and her tone of voice softened considerably so much that he almost thought she had a split personality for a quirk.

“How are you, Izuku?” Mitsuki asked gently, a far cry to the screaming match she just had with her son. “I’m so sorry for what had happened and what my dumbass son had done to you.”

“I didn’t do shit!”

Another loud smack on the head.

“Quiet brat!” Mitsuki seethed, her full attention back onto her son. “Don’t think you can weasel your way out of this one.”

“Uhm…excuse me?”

Standing there by the doorway and shaking like a leaf was Inko, her forest green eyes wide with worry as she looked frantically around the room before landing onto Tony. The tears pooling around the corners of her eyes grew substantially once they made eye contact.

Tony stilled, feeling the breath knocked out from him.

Mom.

She all but launched herself onto him, gripping him so tightly within her arms as if he would disappear the moment she let go. Her uniform was slightly crumpled, indicating that she had rushed over from her office in a bid to get here on time.

“Oh sweetie,” she sobbed, and Tony winced a little when her fingers had accidentally brushed up against the burn wound on his right shoulder, “are you alright?”

“Yeah…” 

Tony did his best to smile up at her and she burst into another round of tears.

A cough, and everyone turned to find the principal peering at them all through the thickness of his brows, pity seeped deep within light blue eyes.

“I apologize that we all couldn’t meet at better circumstances,” he gestured for Inko and Bakugou’s parents to take the remaining empty seats by the side of the room, “but it was imperative that you all come so that we can inform you about what had happened and discuss the best course of action to deal with it.”

Inko’s hold on him tightened immediately and Tony caught a flash of untold wrath past through her face as she eventually relented, keeping a steady and firm arm around his shoulders. She remained standing up while the other parents took their seats.

“Alright…” she said after taking several deep breaths to calm her nerves.

Tony was allowed to retell his sob story for a second time in one day and by the time he was finished, Inko’s grip on him had become shaky, her lips pressed down together into a thin solid line.

Her gaze was fixated onto the burn wound on his right shoulder.

The sickening sound of a powerful smack broke through the heavy strained silence that had fallen after his story, and Porcupine’s mother snarled, mouth twisted sharply into a displeased frown.

“You damn brat!” she all but screamed, “Why the hell did you do that for?”

“I didn’t mean it!” Bakugo easily matched the harsh volume of her voice. “It was an accident, I swear!”

“Katsuki…” 

If his mother was all rage then his father was nothing but sheer disappointment, shaking his head slowly as if he couldn’t quite believe everything he had just heard a couple of moments ago. 

“I thought we had raised you better than this.”

Somehow, that had managed to strike through the boy harder than all the smacks had ever done, and Bakugo visibly flinched as if stung.

“I…I didn’t…” the words came out weakly.

Another cough, this one sharp enough to gain the attention of everyone in the room. The principal waited until all eyes were on him before continuing, his expression grim for the situation. 

“What’s done is done, unfortunately. What matters next is finding an answer to this question: how do we properly ensure that this never happens again?”

Mitsuki’s eyes went wide, and her domineering posture faltered in an instant, taking an actual step back as she darted her gaze between her son and the principal.

“Are you suggesting…” she choked on the words. “Do you mean to expel my son?”

The moment she spoke it was like everyone had collectively held their breath, the room far too quiet for Tony’s liking.

Tipping his chair backwards, the principal let out a soft sigh, tentatively stroking the long length of his brows.

“Perhaps,” he finally answered.

Bakugo let out a curse, a rare glimpse of pure fear undulating across the surface of his face. His red eyes were wide open, and the Porcupine looked close to literally exploding in a fit of uncontrolled emotions.

While both mother and son are shocked by the turn of events, the father—Masaru—tilts his head thoughtfully, turning his quiet intelligent gaze onto Tony.

“Shouldn’t it be Izuku’s decision on what should be done?” he asked, his voice soft enough in the silence of the room to draw attention to himself without realizing it. “He was the one that had gotten attacked first, after all,” ignoring the way his son stared at him in betrayal for even insinuating that he was on Tony’s side.

The principal hummed a noncommittal grunt, considering Masaru’s words for a considerable length of time all while everyone waited with bated breath, most of all Bakugo.

“You are correct,” the man said after a long minute of deliberation, resting his sights onto Tony. Tony met his gaze, unflinching. “Tell me, Midoriya, my boy,” the principal asked, leaning forward in his chair, his expression hidden beneath the volume of hair around his eyes, “what would you suggest would be the best course of action to discipline Bakugo?”

It wasn’t lost on him as to why they were giving him such an option. 

After all, just like Porcupine had said, he was nothing but a quirkless worthless Deku. An invalid in Today’s society. Having someone bully a child under the watchful eyes of teachers and staff members was already bad enough, but for the bullied to be a quirkless person—well, Tony could imagine the sort of news press that would undoubtedly gather in front of the courtyard.

Tony could honestly care less as to what happens to Bakugo. He was already a lost cause the moment he had decided to leave his mark on the back of Tony’s shoulder, a wound that time would heal but he would never forget.

Nor plan to forgive anytime soon.

He felt Inko squeeze his uninjured shoulder and Tony glanced up to find the woman’s expression somber, forest green eyes glistening brightly with unshed tears. But beneath all that was something lurking deep within the darkness of her irises, a strong conviction that she would be there to support what he ended up deciding, 100%.

Swallowing, Tony turned his gaze over to Bakugo, watching as the young boy stared mulishly down at the ground, tiny tremors wrecking his small body as he held back his tears. No longer was he the cocky kid who tried to use his quirk on Tony but now a scared little Porcupine.

Without his knowledge a new memory drifted in, of something that had happened long ago seen through the lens of rose-colored glasses. It was of him and Bakugo, both four years old and walking together somewhere in the afternoon sunlight with two small silver packages in their hands.

When they ripped it out at the same time, revealing duplicate trading cards of All Might in all his spandex shiny glory, both himself and Bakugo broke out into matching wide grins as they brought the cards up close to the setting sun.

“Look, Kacchan!” Tony heard himself say in a squeaky high-pitched voice. “We both got the same card! That means we’re going to be hero buddies!”

Smirking, Kacchan looked back at him with dark red eyes ablaze with excitement. His laughter was bright like the sparks of firecrackers on the fourth of July festival and slung a casual arm around Tony’s shoulders allowing Tony to catch a scent of his sweat—sweet caramel and baby powder.

“Just make sure you can keep up with me, nerd.”

As the memory faded, Tony chewed on the bottom of his lips, carefully weighing the options that had been set before him.

On one hand it would do Bakugo some good if he was taught the severe consequences of his actions, however inconsequential he thought he might be, but on the other hand…

Tony made his decision.

“I don’t know about expulsion, but I think therapy and anger management classes can work.”                                                                     

“I am such a terrible mother,” was the first thing Inko said the moment they got back home.

Blinking, Tony balanced on one foot as he tried to remove the other with his uninjured arm. Once he completed the rather tedious task, he directed his gaze over to the woman to find her standing still listlessly by the doorway, eyes unfocused as she clenched a pamphlet that a lovely hospital staff had given to her after helping them retrieve some fallen items off from the ground with her telekinesis quirk. 

It was for a nursing school program, one of those accelerated ones that catered to middle aged folks who still dreamed of achieving a degree in something with medicine without saddling themselves with the pricey life-long debt of medical school.

He quietly approached the woman with slow carefully measured steps, not wanting to scare her with his presence.

“You…You’re not,” he began softly only to have Inko throw up her hands, nearly knocking him over in her rage.

“Yes I am!” she lamented, unconvinced of his words as she shuffled over to the lime green couch and collapsed in a slump on one of the plush seats. Covering her face with her hands, Inko’s body rocked sporadically with silent sobs.

Tony’s heart clenched in two places as he made his way to sit beside her, tentatively placing a hand onto her shaking shoulder.

“You’re not,” he insisted, trying again.

Inko didn’t answer, but she shook her head vigorously, the strands of green from her hair whipping across her eyes.

Silence enveloped around them, and Tony stared at nothing in particular as he listened to her cries, continuing to rub small circles onto her shoulder.

Eventually, she calmed down and then spoke, her voice pitifully low and broken from decades of unsaid suffering.

“I knew.”

Tony blinked. He wondered if he had misheard her.

“Come again?” he asked.

Slowly, Inko lifted up her head from her hands to meet his eyes, and he was quite taken aback at how much emotions swirled within the depths of her green eyes. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and Tony was given a front row seat of the inner turmoil that plagued her deepest thoughts, that she had apparently hidden from her own son all these years.

“I knew,” she repeated, clearly struggling to keep herself together. 

Tony gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and she took a long gasp of fresh air down into her lungs. 

“I knew something was wrong, that you weren’t as happy as you used to be. I knew that you and Bakugo had not been getting along well ever since your… ‘ diagnosis’ .” Tony winced at the word—quirklessness should not be considered something so life-changing and yet in this world, it might as well be. Inko then swallowed deeply. “But I had never imagined that it would be this bad. That it would end up like this. I knew he was always a little rough around the edges due to his quirk and Mitsuki’s upbringing…but to actively hurt you?”

Her expression suddenly morphed into something frantic as she twisted her body around to properly face him, startling Tony as Inko lifted her hands up to cup both of his cheeks, her eyes searching for something that only she could find.

“D—did he always do this, Izuku?” her voice broke as she asked. “Was Bakugo bullying you for so long and I was simply too blind to notice it? Whenever you two were out playing your little hero games in the park by our apartment, coming home with a couple of cuts and bruises, I would fret and worry about your safety. But you would insist to me that it was all from some friendly roughhousing.” 

Fresh tears pooled at the edges of her eyes. 

“But that wasn’t true, wasn’t it, Izuku. You weren’t telling me everything. You didn’t tell me the whole truth.”

Peering straight into her endless unyielding gaze, Tony found himself at a loss for words.

Because it was true.

However short he had lived this second life, the memories of the Izuku from before him still lingered in the back of his mind, playing out in an endless loop. He knew what it felt to be diagnosed as quirkless at the tender age of four. He knew what it was like to be the only student in his whole elementary class to not have a quirk. He knew the immense pain and suffering Bakugo and his gangs had inflicted onto him all these past years, every faded scar on his skin a testimony of his ex-best friend’s relentless path toward destruction.

Swallowing, Tony slowly, but firmly gave a nod of his head.

“Yes,” was his answer.

For a moment, the word hung in the blistering silence that followed after he had spoken, and Inko stared for an additional minute more before her expression cracked like glass and a horrible cry finally escaped through her lips. 

Her body shook as a torrent of tears cascaded down her plump rosy face and all Tony could do was watch silently as Inko, his mother, went through the five stages of grief all within a span of a minute.

“I’m sorry,” she reeled him in close, burying her face onto the fluff of his hair. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” she continued on mumbling, her voice hoarse from her cries. 

She rocked their bodies together back and forth as if she was trying to soothe him despite it having the opposite effect for him, but Tony didn’t dare to complain.

Instead, he simply wrapped his own arms around her, letting the aroma of her perfume—sweet melon, eased his aching heart as he closed his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she said again.

I know, Tony whispered to himself, I know.

Tony was awoken by a splash of ocean water on his face.

Bolting straight up, Tony sputtered out an incoherent storm of curses as saltwater stung his eyes.

The fuck?! he grumbled as he vigorously tried to wipe his eyes.

“Why did you do that, Mr. Stark?” a familiar high-pitched voice said from somewhere close by.

Finally getting the water out of his eyes, Tony was greeted by the angry cherubic face of one Midoriya Izuku. The boy loomed over him, clutching a bucket of ocean water between his hands as an unnatural scowl formed around his lips.

Oddly, Tony thought it reminded him eerily of Bakugo.

When he took too long to answer, he got another splash of water in return.

“Seriously?” Tony growled, rubbing his eyes some more and ended up only getting sand all over his face.

“Yes!” was Izuku’s childish response and there was the faint sound of more water being scooped up in the background.

Getting fed up with this and reaching the limit of his (admittedly) short patience, Tony scrambled up to his feet, using his full height to tower over the younger boy.

“Mind explaining to me why you decided to throw a temper tantrum, kid?”

Stubbornly meeting Tony’s gaze with a tilt of his own head, Izuku pouted.

“You punched Kacchan!” as if that would properly explain everything.

Oh , Tony blinked, then widening his eyes in realization.

“You mean Porcupine?”

A scandalized squeak left Izuku’s mouth as he tossed the bucket of water onto Tony who narrowly dodged it at the last second. “He’s not Porcupine,” the boy growled, stomping his tiny feet as the attack missed, the stars within his eyes glowing red in his anger. “He’s Kacchan. My best friend!”

Tony couldn’t stop the ugly snort from escaping his nose.

“Bean-sprout, I’m going to impart some of my infinite wizardly wisdom onto you. That brat you call a “best friend"", making sure to add in some additional air quotes to get his point across, “is a frenemy at best or a glorified bully at worst. Not the sort of person you want hanging around with you.”

Not that I would know… Tony silently doesn’t add.

Izuku took no head of his words, frowning deeply as he began to scoop more water into his bucket. 

They were back on the beach again, this time the sun was setting, the sky a deep bruise colored purple. The waves of the ocean were choppy this time, high crests of dark water crashing onto the shoreline with ferocity. Tony flinched when he heard the distinct but faint crack of thunder somewhere in the distance, but try as he might, he could find no speck of rain clouds anywhere within their vicinity.

So distracted that he was, that he almost missed the splash of water Izuku had tried to aim at him, hitting his feet instead of his face.

“Alright, Bean-sprout.”

Tony had had enough of this; it was like dealing with Morgan all over again. 

He reached down and wrestled the bucket away from the boy’s hands, and then scooped him up like he weighed nothing more than a bag of rice (which wasn’t unusual given how little the boy was) over his shoulders. Izuku howled, banging his small hands onto Tony’s back in protest, but he might as well have not tried as Tony felt nothing. 

“You know I can do this all day, kid?” waiting for the boy to finally tire out with his temper tantrum.

He had done this before with his daughter whenever she got a little unruly, and it worked like a charm.

Sure enough, Izuku eventually stopped, the ragged breath of his actions filling the silence between them as he stilled. Tony took a cautionary peek over at him and found, much to his surprise, the tears streaming down the boy’s face.

“Bean-sprout?” Tony gently placed Izuku back onto the ground. “You’re doing okay?”

The boy sniffled, and then peered up at him through the curls of his hair with large wads of tears clear as day.

“Why?” Izuku bawled out.

Panicking, Tony quickly took the boy into his arms, rubbing small circles onto his back as he did his best to comfort the crying kid, his paternal instincts kicking into overdrive as he sat them both down on the sandy beach.

Okay, that didn’t go as planned.

“Look, I’m sorry, Bean-sprout,” Tony apologized after he waited for the boy’s sniffling to die down. “I didn’t mean to punch your best friend.” 

Not exactly, Tony would be a fool to not say he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again if given the need to.

But Izuku didn’t need to know that.

Letting out a sigh through his nostrils, Tony combed through the unruly locks of Izuku’s hair, knowing that the small simple gesture would be more than enough to calm him down somewhat. 

It worked, and the boy leaned in close to his touch.

“It’s just,” Tony continued quietly, “I just don’t like people who feel like they can bully others that they consider weak .” He hated everything associated with the word—his father had seen through that. “Porcupine or Kacchan as you like to call him, needed to be knocked down a peg or two off from his high horse if he thought he could get away with hurting you. Us .” Tony corrected after a moment of thinking.

Izuku remained terribly silent within his arms.

“Does this always happen, Bean-sprout?” 

Tony tried to meet the boy’s eyes, but he mulishly kept his gaze downwards. 

“Do you let the brat push you around and just take it? Never saying a word about it to anybody?” 

More silence. 

“Not even to your own mom?”

That finally got a response out of him, and Izuku gasped, snapping his gaze up, guilt spreading rapidly across his face.

“I made mommy cry,” he half-whispered, more tears pooling around the corners of his eyes, the stars within a dim hue of green. “I didn’t mean to make her sad.”

Tony wiped the tears with the edge of his sleeve.

“Hey,” going for his best soothing voice, “your mom is not sad. She’s just a little… upset that she didn’t notice everything that’s been happening to you. Being a parent isn’t easy. You make mistakes and sometimes it can be costly.”

He tried not to think about his own mistake—the one that had ended up costing him his own life.

Pushing the thought aside for a later time, Tony gave Izuku an easy-going grin.

“Besides, we told her now. Now she knows what’s been going on between you and your friend at school and won’t be letting that ever happen again. So long as we let her know if something is bothering us, of course,” chuckling softly. “That’s a good thing, right, Bean-sprout?”

A sniffle, but the boy slowly nodded his head. Without any hesitation, he wiped his snot-riddled face onto the bottom of Tony’s shirt, who tried not to grimace at being used as a glorified tissue.

They settled together on the sandy beach, watching the sun set as Izuku leaned his head against Tony’s chest for comfort.

“But you didn’t have to punch, Kacchan,” the boy spoke up again, and Tony repressed an exasperated groan as he figured it would be better to let the boy scold him for his reckless actions then make him cry again. “You almost got him expelled!”

The boy pulled away briefly to shoot him a serious look, and Tony couldn’t stop the slight chuckle from bursting out from his lips at how odd the expression appeared on his chubby adorable face.

“Sure, Bean-sprout.”

“If Kacchan had gotten expelled,” Izuku pressed on, pointedly ignoring Tony’s little side comment, as if to ensure that his message was being taken seriously by him, “then he won’t be able to become a hero. And he should be a hero, because he has such an amazing awesome quirk that is super strong and perfect for fighting villains.”

Tony raised a brow at all the compliments the boy was giving to Porcupine and couldn’t help but wonder if the adoration was a sign of something deeper.

“And…” 

The boy suddenly looked away, rubbing his hands together in a nervous like manner as the silence stretched between them for a long second. 

“And Kacchan can do pretty much everything I can’t do.”

“Like, be a hero?”

Izuku flinched as if burned, turning back to Tony with forest green eyes widening to astronomical proportions.

“Well, I call bullshit,” Tony declared with a quick shake of his head.

The boy’s mouth hung open, but Tony continued before he could say another word.

“Look, I think a hero can be anyone, so long as they have the heart for it and the determination to follow it through. Not everyone’s cut out for it and that’s okay. I was pretty terrible when I had first started out as Iron Man, but I got the hang of it eventually. You sometimes just need to keep on trucking and learn from your mistakes.”

Izuku stayed silent, seemingly entranced by his words.

“And if that Porcupine brat is supposed to be a charming example of how a hero should be conducting in your world, then I gotta say, Bean-sprout, your society needs some fixing.” 

Shuffling his thoughts around, Tony wasn’t sure how to end his little speech, so he came up with the next best thing he had overhead Peter once used during their Avengers Team Up meeting. 

“So, Bean-sprout, what I’m trying to say is…” 

Tony offered Izuku a dazzling grin that had earned him accolades back when he was only known as the infamous playboy billionaire, “Don’t let your dreams be dreams.”

Somehow, almost impossibly, Izuku’s eyes grew even wider, the stars within a swirl of red, green and yellow. He stared for an indescribable amount of time, slowly chewing on the bottom of his lips in deep thought.

“But there hasn’t been a quirkless hero in decades,” the boy mumbled out loud, expression oddly somber. “At least not in Japan anyway.”

“True,” Tony agreed, he had personally checked the stats himself—baring a few special cases (namely vigilantes that toed between the line of legality and illegality ), all the heroes currently on the ranking list have quirks. “But remember, you have me ,” pointing at himself, grin growing tenfold wider, “billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. The Da Vinci of his time. The World's Greatest Hero.”

The last bit was one he was especially pleased to lord over Captain America with.

Izuku blinked.

Repressing a tired sigh, Tony tried to go about this another way in hopes that the boy would follow his line of thinking.

“Look at it this way, you know I’m Iron Man, right?” The boy gave a cautious but firm nod of his head. “But according to the rules of your world, I shouldn’t even be a hero, since I don’t have a quote, unquote ‘quirk .’” He paused, waiting for the words to sink in. “But we all know that is bull— er …” 

No need to curse in front of the kid again. 

“Not true. I fought alongside some of the best heroes known to man: Captain America, The Hulk, Black Widow, Thor, War Machine, Spiderman .” Izuku’s eyes sparkled at that. “I think I can say I am just as much of a hero (if not more) than those guys.”

Tony then shrugged his shoulders.

“So, what makes you think I am any different from someone like All Might?”

Izuku stayed silent, contemplating deeply on Tony’s rhetorical question. A flicker of hope ignited within his eyes only to snuff out a second later like candlelight in the wind.

“But…Mr. Stark.” 

A defeated sigh escaped the boy’s lips as his shoulders drooped and it took a considerable amount of effort for Tony to not want to grab the kid and shake him out of his gloomy funk. 

“I’m not as awesome as you are. I’m not super smart, nor super nice, or even really likable.” Curling into himself, tears started to drip down his cheeks, tiny blots of dead stars mixed in the clear blue liquid. “I’m just Deku . A useless, stupid, quirkless Deku.”

Tony gritted his teeth.

Right now, he wanted nothing more than to punch the living daylights out of Bakugo for being the main source of Izuku’s grief and pain.

“B—but I really want to be one!” Izuku’s pleas broke through his murderous thoughts of a certain Porcupine brat. The wind was picking up again, harsh bits of yellow sand whipping relentlessly across Tony’s face. He could hardly see a thing. “I really wanna be a hero!”

“Bean-sprout!”

The wind was a vengeful tempest. Tony felt himself being propelled away from the boy, strong gusts carrying him effortlessly off from his feet. Trying to find purchase with his fingers deep in the sand, Tony screamed once last time, watching as Izuku’s figure started to fade with the growing sandstorm.

“Bean-sprout!”

His eyes opened to the familiar All Might plastered walls of his bedroom.

Tony stayed like that for a long moment, his right arm still outstretched from when he had tried to reach for the young boy.

“I really wanna be a hero!”

He lowered his arm back down to his side, and Tony let out a frustrated scream into the air.

Damn it.

Turned out there was a lot one can do if given a weeklong vacation from school.

After the whole fight with Bakugo, it had been decided by the principal to have both him and the other boy ‘suspended’ for causing disruption inside their school with their impromptu. For Tony it was one week, and for Bakugo it was two weeks; enough time for him to slightly recover from the burn wound Porcupine had inflicted onto his right shoulder.

The friendly nurses and doctors at the Central Musutafu Hospital had done their best to help soothe the worst of his pain—but a scar will remain in the shape of an elementary school kid’s handprint.

With proper care and copious amounts of ointment, it was starting to fade from a sear red to a light pink, and Tony had fate that it would be something that wouldn’t be too noticeable unless one looked closely.

In the meantime, he spent most of his time in the study room, searching on the computer for more information about heroes and the way they operate in Japan specifically. The sorts of schools that bolster such a crowd were numerous, though very few could claim to be of the same prestige and height as Yueei High School , the school where All Might, himself, had supposedly been an alumnus.

For Yueei, they offer an array of tracks centered around heroics and beyond.

The first was the Hero Department, where students looking for the best education possible for their heroic careers with a stellar cast of staff and teachers. The next was the Support Department, where students with an eye for technology were encouraged to apply and hone their skills to help heroes out in the field. Another was the Management Department, a sort of catch all for students who enjoy heroics but neither had the determination nor talent to go into the first two departments. Those in this department work to create potential businesses with heroes looking to expand their reach to the general public.

And last, and certainly in some cases, least, was the General Department. Aptly named for how diverse the courses available are for those who were not able to pass the Hero Entrance Examination or had no desire to do anything with heroics. Those looking to enter a top university, or more, were often found filling the seats of that particular department.

Interestingly enough, Tony had found that there had been a few unique instances where someone from the General Department could be transferred to the Hero Department if shown considerable talent during the Sports Festival.

However, such cases were extremely rare given the immense difficulty it was to pull off such a task.

His searches yielded little information about what the Hero Entrance Examination consisted of, though plenty of secondhand accounts could be found on forums by would-be applicants who would tell their tale to anybody interested in listening. The general consensus was that it was randomized every year, with no two exams ever being exactly alike. The written portion was pretty simple if one knew what to study, covering an array of topics such as arithmetic and basic biology.

It was the practical portion of the exam that many had deemed most important, and those were kept secret up onto the day of the exam.

Further reading revealed an interesting tidbit—there was no barrier on whether or not a person had to have a quirk or not to apply for the examination and even better, handmade weapons were allowed .

Smiling brightly, Tony brought another empty notebook from a nearby stack and started writing the words ‘Tony’s Absolutely Brilliant Ideas: Number# 1’ on the cover.

Time to get to work.

Chapter Text

“Promise me something, Izuku.”

Pulling himself slightly away from the woman’s comforting embrace, Tony tilted his head to meet Inko’s gaze, confusion on his face.

She hiccupped, keeping her grip onto him as her forest green eyes shimmer beneath a pool of crystal blue tears.

“Promise me,” her breath came in a whisper, an undercurrent of emotions she was trying desperately to keep at bay. “That if something is truly bothering you, that you’ll tell me. That you won’t be afraid anymore to keep everything to yourself again. Don’t—”

Here she took another gasp of breath, a fresh wave of tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Don’t let it eat you up inside. Know that I will always be there to support you no matter what happens, and even if things go bad, know that I will try my absolute best to be the best mom I could possibly be for you.” Beneath his fingers, her body shook silently with tremors. “Promise me that, Izuku. Please.”

Tony felt like he couldn’t breathe.

In a different life, his mother had been the exact same. Hoping that he would change his bad boy behavior and tumultuous relationship with his father.

He never had a chance to show her how much he truly loved her.

Swallowing, Tony gave Inko—his mother—a hesitant nod of his head.

“I promise.”

“Will you be alright, sweetie?” Inko asked for what must have been the tenth time since the two of them had left their apartment building.

The weather today was a balmy 20 degree Celsius, the wind light and pleasant on his face as Tony stared up at the cloudless sky.

“Yeah…I'll be fine,” he finally answered after the silence stretched on for too long. He managed to smile as he met her concerned gaze. “You don’t have to worry about little old me.”

Inko pressed her lips together, obviously not convinced but relented anyway with a low sigh.

“If you say so, sweetie…”

They continue to walk the now familiar path to the bus stop a few blocks away from their apartment. It was Friday and Tony had spent most of the week searching more about the world he had awoken to and preparing for the Yueei Entrance Exam—he already had it set in his mind to apply when he came of age regardless of whether or not he successfully passed.

He planned to show Japan, and the world at large, what a quirkless person could really do.

The bus came a minute earlier than its designated time, and they boarded together and grabbed a seat all the way at the back. As the scenery gradually shifted from closed boarded up shops to corporate brand coffee stores with special items based on famous Pro Heroes, Tony finally addressed the purple giant elephant in the room.

“I’m sure the principal just wants to make sure everything is alright,” he started, gaining Inko’s undivided attention as she turned to look at him. “If there wasn’t a reason, then I would be pretty pissed that I had to come all this way to school on a Friday .”

She chuckled; a light airy tune that had Tony do a mental dance in his head.

“True,” Inko admitted with a shake of her own head. “Not to mention taking time out of my work to accompany you to say the least. But you might as well get all that homework and assignments you had missed for the week.”

Neither of them said the real reason why no one had sent it to him all this time.

Eventually they reached the stop for the elementary school and stepped off after letting an elderly couple with curved golden horns sporting out of their backs in first. The courtyard was empty with school currently in session since it was midday, which Tony was more than grateful for. It meant less eyes on him as his mother and him made their way inside and into the staffing room where the secretary told them to wait on uncomfortable plastic seats meant for children.

Ten minutes later and the principal welcomed them into his office with a genial smile on his face, offering the two some refreshments before getting right down to business.

“I must thank you once again Ms. Midoriya and Midoriya for taking the time to meet with me today.” His large eyebrows waggled for a moment and tiny blue eyes peered out from all the whiteness. “I pray that your wound has healed?”

Tony shifted a little in his seat, mindful to not aggravate the burn scar on his right shoulder anymore than what was necessary.

“Somewhat better,” Tony answered in an earnest tone. “Wounds may heal eventually—” and here he placed a hand onto his chest where his heart was, wobbling the bottom of his lips to really send his message across. “But it would take a long time before this could heal as well.”

Sitting beside him, Inko hummed a sound of approval from the back of her throat, eyes glistening a little as she directed her soft gaze back onto him.

The principal nodded; expression somber at the reminder of what had transpired on Monday with Bakugo.

“That I agree, my boy. That, I agree.”

With that out of the way, the man pulled out a stack of folders beneath his desk, setting them aside in front of him. Tony eyed the contents of it with a healthy dose of suspicion.

The principal let out a small chuckle, no doubt having seen the look despite his eyes being covered back again by his brows.

“This,” tapping at the folders, “is a list of recommendations for therapy that I had the secretary and the school nurse gather up for Midoriya. They are all very affordable and have a sliding pay scale when it comes to payments based on your income. Many of them are geared towards children…especially those without a quirk.” 

The principal then paused, giving Tony and Inko ample time to process the information.

Chancing a quirk glance, Tony found the woman, his mother, with an unreadable expression, lips pressed firmly into a firm thin line across her face as she stared at the stack of folders.

“Thank you, Principal Sasaki,” Inko finally said after a moment of solemn silence. Her voice was uncharacteristically tight, and Tony briefly wondered if she was disappointed that things had to go so badly for her son for his bullying to be finally taken seriously enough by the administration. “We appreciate it and will use your sources thoroughly.”

“You are most welcome.”

The principal turned his head over to Tony and he gave the man a low dip of his head, murmuring his thanks as well.

He brought out another stack of folders, this one twice as tall and thicker too.

“I also took the liberty of asking all of your teachers to send me the homework and assignments for this week and next. Since we only just started this semester, there isn’t too much work.” The principal pushed it forward toward Tony. “But if you need any additional time, do let me know and I can arrange it.”

Tony doesn’t move to take it. 

He hated being handed things.

“That won’t be necessary,” crossing his arms instead. “I can handle it.”

White brows shot up high, and the principal stared at him with wide blue eyes, clearly taken aback by the curtness of his voice.

“I—I see…” he stuttered before clearing his throat, undoubtedly trying to gain control of the situation again. He steepled his fingers together on the top of his desk as he regarded Tony in a new light, a hint of a sparkle within the depths of his eyes. “That’s good to hear then.”

He continued the conversation with how Bakugo would not be allowed to interact with Tony from now on throughout the school year as part of his punishment. If he so much as stepped out of line, he would automatically be expelled—a suitable leash to keep the Porcupine brat in check. 

The boy wouldn’t want to jeopardize his chances of getting into a proper hero school.

By the time they were done, Tony was more than ready to head back home and sleep. Both he and Inko bow to the principal once more before making their way out of the school building and into the afternoon sunlight.

“Well, that went alright,” Inko said as they walked to the bus stop. Few people were out on the streets at this time, so they had ample space to sit at the waiting benches. She folded her legs together, clutching the tiny red purse on her lap as she looked around with a sharp frown.

The neighborhood the elementary school was in wasn’t as rough as the apartment they currently resided in but being overly cautious seemed to be the norm for her. 

“I’m just glad Bakugo won’t be bothering you ever again,” she continued.

“Yeah…”

Tony readjusted the straps of his yellow backpack on his shoulders. 

He was glad he had brought it with him for the trip as he could carry all the homework and papers that were given to him by the principal. Leaning back on the beach, he sighed briefly to himself glad that the worst had passed over them without any major issues. 

“Still sucks. It took me being injured for them to take it seriously enough.”

Inko hummed in agreement, a ripple of anger passing over her expression.

They stayed like this for a couple of minutes, each lost in their own thoughts until Inko decided to break the silence with a question.

“Would you like to get some Katsudon, Izuku?”

Tony blinked, brain processing the question for a short moment. 

He hadn’t eaten much since they had left home, and his stomach growled in response before he could open his mouth, causing Inko to giggle into her hand, barely suppressing the tiny smile that had blossomed over her lips.

Face flushed; Tony shrugged with his good shoulder.

“Well…you already know my answer.”

Taking a bite out of the crispy breaded chicken, Tony nearly moaned in delight as the flavor and spices exploded in his mouth. Swallowing after chewing the piece for a few times, he bit onto another bigger piece, savoring the taste for longer this time around.

Sitting across from him, Inko’s lips twitched into a somewhat semblance of an amused smile.

“Good, right?” she asked, scooping some white rice into her mouth.

Tony swallowed after a long moment.

“Freaking amazing. My compliments to the chef.”

They were in a restaurant somewhere in downtown Musutafu, near Inko’s place of work and a hot spot for hungry salary workers and tourists alike looking to find hidden gems within the small city. 

Sandwiched between a low-ranking hero agency and a tiny public library, the restaurant Inko had taken him to was traditional in every sense of the way, with wooden panels decorated with oil paintings depicting various wintry landscapes throughout Japan and low seating tables. It offered a variety of dishes, most prominently the Donburi items like Gyūdon, Butadon and of course, Katsudon .

Chuckling, Inko took a sip of her green tea.

“I’m glad to hear that, sweetie.”

A few distances away from them, a television bolted down onto one of the walls was currently broadcasting the local news of the hour. The latest top story was a terrible train derailment on one of the express lines to Chiba caused by a villain who had used their quirk to escape police pursuit. 

Casualties have not yet been posted, but the heroes on the scene including one Best Jeanist, the current number four hero in Japan, have been seen present in aiding relief to the victims and support to the Chiba police department, with most of the spotlight and camera focus heavily zoomed onto their heroic activities.

As Tony watched, chewing on a piece of Katsudon thoughtfully, he pondered more on the ambiguous relationship between Pro Heroes and law enforcements.

Law enforcements were technically heroes in their own rights; a police officer's duty was to protect and serve its citizens, while firefighters threw their life on the line to rescue those trapped in a dangerous fiery situation and EMTs bring valuable resources to keep victims stable as they transport them to a nearby hospital. 

Each profession has their own special role to play, all important cogs to a well-oiled machine, and yet somehow over time, pro heroes have thrown a sizable hard wrench into the equation, disrupting the entire processing line with all their apparent flashiness and quirks.

Tony frowned.

It wasn’t like that back in his previous world. 

Despite their innate differences, the Avengers worked seamlessly (for the most part) together with the law enforcement when it came down to missions. S.H.I.E.L.D., the special American governmental counterterrorism and central intelligence agency run by a hardass only known as Nick Fury, had been the reason why the Avengers had come to be, and had a cornucopia of capable agents who knew precisely how to deal with threats nationally or existentially.

Such a symbiotic relationship doesn’t seem to be apparent in Japan.

They finish their lunch thirty minutes later and after paying for the meal (not before mentioning to their waiter to inform the chef of Tony’s compliments), they head outside, pausing briefly to enjoy the setting sunlight on their faces after spending time indoors.

“Would you like to get some ice cream?” Inko asked.

If Tony was suspicious of all the requests he didn’t show it in his face, simply nodding his affirmation as he followed her down the street. She weaved herself expertly amongst the crowd, taking the time to ensure her son was right beside her as they headed inside a forty-story commercial building where the ice cream parlor they were going to was located on the fifth floor.

Life size cutout cardboards of high-ranking heroes such as Endeavor, Best Jeanist, and even Gang Orca lined the front entrance to the store. A quick glance revealed a promotion of new flavors inspired by said heroes with a special discount for any students who happened to be enrolled in a hero school.

Joining the rather long line of eager customers, Tony took a look around him.

Quirks were truly something extraordinary. 

The person in front of them had medium sized transparent wings like a butterfly on their back while the couple behind them had nothing noticeable save for glowing orange eyes and shark-like teeth. Even the person manning the ice cream station had the ends of each of his arms shaped into curly tentacles, allowing the man to be able to scoop up multiple ice creams at the same time with relative ease.

“Do you know what you want?” 

Inko’s voice brought his attention back onto her as she strained her gaze at the overhead menu listing out all the delectable items for potential customers to order off from.

“I’m thinking of something sweet like cookies and cream," she continued.

Tony raised his head, taking in the menu as well.

Sweets weren’t his go-to food, though having an overactive daughter with a taste for expensive white Belgium chocolate had certainly changed that for a bit.

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “I think I’ll ask the staff for their recommendations.”

Soon enough, it was their turn to order, and Inko asked for a small cup of cookies and cream with a bit of rainbow sprinkles and whip cream as topping. The man happily obliged, and after he completed the task, turned to face Tony.

“And what about you, little dude?”

Glancing down at the rows and rows of ice cream flavors, Tony shrugged his shoulders.

“I honestly don’t know. Do you have any recommendations?”

“Oh yeah! ” There was a twinkle in the man’s brown eyes as he gestured over to the first row of flavors. “All of these contain this month’s newest sensation— A Taste of Heroics. Each flavor is based on a pro-hero and their special moves. Like this one—” pointing at a practically full container of deep red and orange swirl sorbet, “is based on Endeavor and his Flashfire Fist attack.” 

Out of all the flavors, that one barely had any scoop marks on it. 

“It’s super spicy though, so it’s not really a popular choice for most...”

Made sense, Tony couldn’t imagine wanting to eat something hot with his cold dessert. 

Sounded like a complete oxymoron.

His eyes drifted over to the last one, halfway done and colored a vibrant purple swirl with hints of silver in it.

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing at it.

“Oh, that’s based on Edgeshot and one of his special moves— Fishhook Snag,” the staff answered brightly. “Dark and mysterious just like the hero himself, they say no lick ever tastes the same twice.”

Ah, so a mystery flavor then, Tony surmised dryly.

“I’ll take a small cup of that, please.”

Once they finished paying, they found seating near the back of the shop next to a trio set of indoor windows that allowed them access to the rest of the shoppers going about their day. People watching was one of his favorite activities to do with Pepper before the BLIP had happened, sometimes making small bets to see how long it would take for someone to recognize him first without his red and golden suit of armor.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get the All Might flavor,” Inko said, absent-mindedly stirring away at her ice-cream with a spoon. A pensive look suddenly overcame her as she leveled an odd piercing sort of gaze onto Tony, causing him to briefly freeze in response like a deer caught in the headlights. “You always like him.”

Shit .

Tony swallowed the ice-cream bite with an audible loud gulp.

The Izuku Midoriya of this life loved the famous number one hero of Japan. It was shown through the copious number of posters in his bedroom and the action figure toys that occupied every inch of space on the bookshelf and study desk in their tiny apartment.

Twisting his gaze away, Tony hurried to explain his reasoning for what his mother had considered a ‘strange decision’.

“I still do. I just wanted to try something new today.”

Once again there was that long pause as Inko stared at him, lips pressed together as if preventing her from something more as she slowly tilted her head carefully to regard his answer. Keeping his expression perfectly blank, Tony met her piercing gaze head on like his whole life depended on it.

He cannot allow her to know the truth. At least, not until he was certain that there was no way for him to return to his previous life.

“Okay,” she finally said, returning her attention back onto her ice-cream.

Tony blinked, obviously expecting more from his mother’s response but chose not to press forward in the end. Any further questioning would only lead Inko to be suspicious of him more than she already was.

He remembered her words:

“Promise me, Izuku.”

I’m sorry, Tony frowned into his own ice cream cup as he took another bite. I will tell you everything soon enough.

Fortunately, the rest of the day quickly passed on without any notable events.

They stopped to get some groceries on the way at a nearby marketplace in preparation for the weekend and encountered some police activity on the opposite side of the street. Whatever had happened had resulted in a storefront being collapsed with items and what looked to be blue sparkling feathers strewn all about on the sidewalk.

Several of the officers were clustered at the end corner of the block, chatting amongst themselves while a few feet away, a woman, which Tony could only presume was a hero based on the extravagant blue fairy costume that she wore, surveyed the scene with sharp round eyes. 

Behind the yellow caution tapes, a small crowd had already gathered, though most of them were currently making their leave now that the situation seemed to be under control by the authorities.

“Ah, man,” Tony heard one of those people say with glee as they passed him and Inko, turning to their companion. “Can you believe how awesome Bluebelle was? She took that villain down with just a wave of her quirk.”

“Yeah!” The companion’s dark spiky forearms were waving up and down in excitement. “She might go up a rank or two thanks to this.”

As the pair continued gushing over said Pro Hero, Tony resisted scowling at them. 

Heroism wasn’t meant for entertainment and yet the world today had centered a large portion of their media and revenue on the dramatizations of heroes and their heroic activities. Everything had to be recorded lest the hero wanted to increase their rankings, and that meant that those with a flashy, overwhelming quirk were noticed way more often than those who fought with their brains and support gears.

Limelight heroes were what the media often referred to them as.

How terrible.

Once they got home and put away the groceries, Tony turned around to bid Inko a good night, thanking her once again for the meal and dessert.

“Of course, sweetie.” Inko’s smile was small but completely genuine as maternal warmth blossomed over her face like a rainbow after a rainy day. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself today.” 

She trailed off and Tony waited patiently for her to continue, noticing the sudden difficulty she was having with getting the next set of words to pass through her lips. 

“And Izuku…” 

Inko took a steely breath.

“I know things have been rough for you ever since your… diagnosis but know that I intend to fully support you in whatever profession you endeavor to become. You can be a hero.”

There was a sheen of wetness in her forest green eyes as their gazes met once again.

“I have complete faith that you can do it.”

She approached him with slow but measured footsteps and pressed a soft kiss onto his temple.

“Good night, sweetie,” then continued to make her way down the hallway and into her bedroom.

Tony watched her retreating figure, mind blank as the words echoed in his head. Slowly, he reached up to lightly touch the spot that she had kissed him, still feeling the pleasant warmth tingle his skin.

“I will,” Tony said, voice quiet but filled with determination.

That he could promise her with.

The moment Tony entered the classroom, all conversations stopped abruptly as everyone turned to look at him.

Stifling a sigh, he muttered a quiet good morning beneath his breath as he made his way to his designated seat. Everyone in his path parted slightly, eyes wide as if they couldn’t believe his arrival. There were no lily flowers or marks left on his desk, and a quirk inspection of the space underneath revealed nothing suspicious as well. Placing his bag on the hook at the side of the desk, Tony impatiently waited for class to start.

It was Monday morning and he had returned to school expecting things to change. Undoubtedly news had spread about his fight with Bakugo by now, and based on the way people were whispering to each other while still staring at him, meant they had formed their opinions on the matter.

The only respite was that Porcupine wouldn’t be back for another two weeks, so that was a bonus. Even better, his lackeys seemed to have gotten the memo to not mess with him at all as well, and thus could only glare at him from afar.

Quiet footsteps suddenly approached his desk and Tony turned his gaze to the left to find another boy standing beside him. He had nothing remarkable in his appearance save for a pair of brown cat ears that poke out from his dark curly brown hair.

“Can I help you?”

The cat boy flinched, one of his ears flickering from side to side before he gathered the courage to speak.

“Uhm…” The boy shifted nervously on his feet. “Did you finally get your quirk or something?”

Tony blinked.

“Come again?”

Not the answer he was expecting, the cat boy stuttered briefly, his fluffy brown ears rearing back. “I mean, everyone in school had heard about how you punched Bakugo in the face hard enough to even break his nose in half, and it's kinda impossible to believe you could have done that without a quirk.”

A few murmurs of agreement rippled across the classroom and Tony repressed the urge to scowl.

Taking a moment to calm his mind, Tony slowly shook his head.

“I still don’t have a quirk,” he answered, and the cat boy looked oddly disappointed at his admission, “But I wasn’t about to let Porcupine continue to bully me for the remainder of the year. He’s a bully, simple as that. And the fact that the school had allowed him to continue with his antics for so long is pretty despicable if you ask me.” 

He met the dark eyes of the boy who had dared to ask him such a question, almost imagining for a moment that it was Izuku standing in his place. 

“So, I’m not going to stand for that any longer. No one should. Whether you have powers or not shouldn’t prevent you from being a proper human being.”

Silence enveloped the room the moment he finished, and his classmates glanced at one another nervously as if unsure how to respond to his little improv speech.

Before anyone could, however, the door slid open and in strolled their homeroom teacher, already having a face of disdain so early in the morning. 

Immediately, the students rushed into their seats and the man leveled them all a look, sweeping his gaze across the room. His eyes met Tony’s for only a second, but it was enough that Tony could decipher the shock that flashed over his face before looking away.

“I see that you all have chosen to arrive on time today for once,” the homeroom teacher drawled, not even bothering to take attendance. Pretty much everyone was present for the class save for one noticeable desk a few rows in front of Tony’s. “Then it means we can get started on today’s news. I expect you all to pay close attention to this as I will not be repeating myself.”

Tony wondered if it was a jab at his words last week but filed the thought away for a later time.

The rest of the day passed on soon enough, and once the bell rang for Lunch, Tony was one of the first to stand up, stretching out his poor cramped muscles from sitting in one position for so long. 

Their English teacher had left with a murmur of goodbye and a reminder that they had onto Wednesday to turn in their school assignments. 

Tony had long since finished it (it helped that he had retained his multilingual skills from his previous life) and the surprised look that had appeared on the teacher’s face when Tony was one of the few to hand it in on time was worth the late night he had spent completing everything at the last minute.

Sue him—he had more important things to consider than fifth grade grammar lessons.

As before, Inko had prepared his lunch for today and Tony made his way with the bento box in his hand only to be stopped by the homeroom appearing dramatically at the doorway.

“Midoriya,” his voice carried easily across the room, effectively silencing any conversation.

Tony’s right eye twitched as all attention was thrust directly onto him.

“Yes, Sensei…?” he finally said after a tense Mexican standoff had passed between them.

A grimace formed around the corners of the man’s thin lips as he regarded Tony with an upturn of his long pointy nose. “There is something that I must discuss with you before you head for lunch.” 

Not elaborating further, he then turned his sharp gaze onto the rest of the room. 

“Might I remind you all that lunchtime had started about five minutes ago? Shouldn’t you all have left about now?” His tone took on a delightful tune as he crossed his lanky arms. “Unless…you all would like to spend time writing a five-page essay on why you must always listen to your teachers?”

That got everyone up and rushing out the door, and within the span of a couple of seconds, the room was emptied out completely.

Satisfied, the man made his way over to his desk, sending an expectant glance at Tony to follow.

Once seated, the homeroom teacher explained his reason for keeping Tony from enjoying his lunchroom.

“I am sure you are aware by now that starting from this point onward, Mr. Bakugo would not be allowed to speak with you in this classroom or facilities. That includes any group work activities, and you are to immediately inform one of the staff if he tried again to… harm you in any way as possible.” It was clear as day that the man had low opinions on him but was willing to set aside his dislike to ensure Tony’s safety. “You are also allowed to eat your lunch here if need be.”

Tony nodded, understanding the pittance of respite being offered to him.

“And what about the punishment?”

The homeroom teacher slowly blinked, as if trying to comprehend the idea that Tony was still interested in doing the classroom chores. Tony waited, crossing one leg over the other as the man rebooted his brain.

He could be patient.

“You mean—”

“Yes,” Tony confirmed. “I figured since I was oh so late last week for homeroom class, that I should still do my part of the deal.”

He bit back a smile at the trickle of guilt that rippled across the homeroom teacher’s face.

“I see…” His lips twist unpleasantly, like he had swallowed something sour. “That won’t be necessary, Midoriya. Principal Sasaki had informed me that such a punishment was…archaic for an esteemed academic institute such as our school.”

Tony rested his chin on the palm of his hand.

“Is that so?”

How sweet.

“Quite.” The homeroom teacher cleared his throat, obviously not wanting to discuss the subject any further. “Anyway, that will be all.” 

He turned his body away, grabbing some sheets of paper out from his briefcase and Tony knew a clear dismissal when he saw one.

Standing out from his seat, Tony started to head for the door only to stop halfway across the room.

“I just want to know something, Sensei.” 

Tony turned around. The homeroom teacher peered up, not at all too pleased to find him still here.

Tough luck. 

“Do you seriously dislike me so much because I don’t have a quirk?”

A loaded question, but he had to know.

The man said nothing at first, only exhaling out a sigh through the nostrils of his long-pointed nose. He placed his red pen down and laced his fingers together on top of the papers he had been grading.

“Perhaps,” and Tony was a bit taken aback at the strange honesty. “But it's simply more than just that, Midoriya.” 

The homeroom teacher was a tall lanky man, and he seemed to exude his impressive height even while seated.

“If one did not consider your null status as part of the equation, then one would see nothing but the exemplary skills you have managed to accomplish when it came to your academic work. You are one of my top students, non-disruptive in class…save for your excessive muttering at the worst of times, and extremely hard-working.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed.

“But?”

Here the homeroom teacher pinched the bridge of his elongated nose, eyes shut closed for a brief moment.

“ But, if you had wanted to pursue a career in something suitable like a doctor or a scientist, I would have gladly given you a personal recommendation.” 

His eyes opened back, and the frostiness and rage embodied in them was a sure sight to behold.

“But you had no interest in any of that. Oh no. You wanted to be a hero . A profession that already has a mortality rate of 45% and that is already considering those with a quirk.” 

The homeroom teacher viciously shook his head as if the very thought of someone like Izuku becoming a hero was ridiculous enough to even consider thinking about. 

“I have little faith that you, as a quirkless student, would have any chance of successfully passing the rigorous coursework of a hero school, and obtaining a license. And even if you do manage to graduate, you would be killed the moment a villain decides to use their quirk on you when they find out you have no means to defend yourself or others without a quirk of your own.”

He leveled his cold gaze onto Tony, and the static image of his father—Howard Stark—took his place.

“That is why I dislike you, Midoriya. There is no shame in settling down for mediocrity. Not everyone can be a hero, nor should everyone become one too.”

Silence permeated the room as soon as the words left his homeroom teacher’s lips, heavy and charged with a concurrent of energy that buzzed within Tony’s chest. 

A fire had been lit.

“I see,” he finally said after processing everything the homeroom teacher had said to him. It was quite a lot, he admitted, but well worth it as he finally figured out something essential that Izuku had probably wanted to know his entire life. “And I thank you for that.” If the homeroom teacher was surprised by the admission, he didn’t show it. “But I also want to let you know that you’re wrong for believing that.”

The face of Howard Stark frowned deeply in response.

“I want to be a hero, and having a quirk or not shouldn’t prevent me from becoming one.” 

Tony strode purposefully back over to the homeroom teacher’s desk, placing both of his hands down firmly onto the table as he leaned in closely enough till he was nose to pointed nose with the man. 

Surprisingly, the homeroom teacher stood his ground, which Tony gave him props for.

“And someday I will most certainly become one. So, I hope you will be there sitting on the sidelines to watch me reach for the stars and beyond.”

They both stared each other down, neither yielding till the homeroom teacher huffed out a grunt, finally ceding defeat, the static image of Howard Stark fading away in the background.

Victory had never tasted so sweet inside his mouth.

Tony woke up to the sound of yelling.

An all-too-common occurrence in this part of his neighborhood on a Saturday morning. 

What was weird however was that it was seemingly coming from inside the apartment instead of outside, and Tony rubbed his sleepy crusted eyes in confusion, gaze drifting over to the door of his bedroom.

Whoever it was, they were loud .

The yelling stopped for one blissful moment, then he heard the all too familiar sound of a smack and a shrill voice accompanying said action.

“At least say Good Morning, you damn brat!”

Tony’s eyes grew wide.

Praying that it wasn’t who he thought it would was, Tony hurried out of his bed, opening the door as he barreled his way down the hallway so fast that his socks made an audible sharp squeak against the faux wooden floor as he came right to a stop by the entrance to the joint living/kitchen unit.

All at once, several heads swiveled their gazes onto him, but Tony’s eyes were solely on the Porcupine who was standing by the television with his arms crossed and a sour expression. A red mark was visible on his right cheek. Once their eyes made direct contact, his face soured some more, and Porcupine quickly averted his gaze down to the floor.

At least his nose was doing better, the number of gauzes and bandages were greatly reduced compared to two weeks ago, and it looked slightly less crooked from a certain angle.

Sitting on the nearby couch were Bakugo’s parents, who looked equally surprised to see him up so early. A quick glance at the clock revealed that the time was currently 7 in the morning.

Way too damn early to deal with something like this.

“Morning, sweetie,” Inko said from her place by the kitchen stove. The coffee machine churned happily in the background as she gripped her mug with a little more force than necessary, her knuckles stark white in contrast to her normally pink skin tone. “Did we wake you up?”

Not trusting himself to speak properly, Tony simply shook his head.

“Good to see that you’re alright, Izuku,” Porcupine’s mother, Mitsuki, interjected, smoothing out the snarl on her face into something resembling a sort of weirdly small grin. It seemed she was as unused to smiling as she was scowling. “We just came over to drop off a small gift for you and your mother. As an apology of sorts.”

It was only now that Tony realized the extremely large basket of assorted fruits and snacks resting on the low coffee table. 

There were neatly sliced pieces of melon, cherries, strawberries, and even a whole ass Pineapple with foreign sounding chocolate bars and chips that Tony could see poking out from the plastic intricate wrapping.

It looked expensive.

A small gift my ass, Tony smirked.

The soft sounds of footsteps cladded in slippers cautiously approaching him jarred Tony back to the present, and he found Mitsuki standing before him, her facial expression, the perfect picture of long-term regret and disgruntledness, abashed undoubtedly by her son’s growing attitude problems.

Meeting her dark red eyes, the very color of oxygenated blood, Tony was a bit taken aback by how much Porcupine highly resembled her features right down to the same shade of hair color. 

It was eerily close.

“I know it won’t be enough to make up for the years of abuse that my brat had given to you, but I want to let you know from the bottom of my heart that I am deeply sorry.” 

She bowed her head low, her scowl returning back to its rightful place on her face. 

“Katsuki had always been raised as such a pompous brat who had gotten his head swollen from one too many praises from his teachers and peers for his quirk.” 

Said son growled lowly at the insult, but Mitsuki resolutely ignored him. 

“I don’t think he has ever eaten a piece of humble pie in his entire life. It’s my fault, really. I should have taught him better to control his anger. But mark my words, that shit ain’t gonna fly ever again.”

She said that last part with a head tilted toward her son, shooting him a stern glare that promised untold punishments if he didn’t keep his mouth shut.

Porcupine, unsurprisingly, remained silent.

The sound of another pair of footsteps drew Tony’s attention then onto Bakugo’s father, who bowed respectfully at him once he reached them.

“I am so sorry too as well, Izuku.” 

His voice was oddly soft and gentle compared to the brash tone used by both his wife and son. 

“Katsuki is our responsibility, and it is our duties and responsibilities as his parents to correct our son’s unruly behavior before someone gets hurt. We were unfortunate to not stop him from hurting you seriously, but we will make sure to not let that happen again.” 

His head rose, and a level of steel and fiery determination shone brightly within his once kind warm honey brown eyes. 

“We will endeavor to ensure that Katsuki will become a better, kinder person in the future.”

Honestly, Tony simply felt sorry for them.

As a former parent he understood immensely the ups-and-downs that came with raising a child, especially one as chaotic and uncontrollable as Bakugo.

Could things change?

Sure, there was always a small possibility that Porcupine could actually become a decent human being at some point in his life.

But as of right now, Tony simply wanted him as far away as possible from Izuku and himself.

Tearing his gaze away from Bakugo’s parents, Tony moved it right onto Inko, who had been silently watching the conversation from afar. 

Her expression hadn’t changed much since, still looking quite tired and done with life in general. But when she noticed his stare, Inko gave him a reassuring smile, the edges strained around the corners of her mouth, but it was still something.

“Don’t you have something to say, Katsuki ?” Mitsuki suddenly spoke out, breaking the strange tension that had fallen in the room. “Maybe something that your ex-best friend should hear?”

Porcupine flinched once the attention was on him again, fiddling with a heart shaped stress ball that Tony hadn’t noticed was in his hands before.

After a long and excruciatingly tense minute, he mumbled something low enough that Tony nearly missed it.

“’M sorry…”

“And?”

Another flinch, the boy biting back a snarl.

“And you’re not a Deku…”

Humming, Tony registered the ( admittedly ) half-ass apology with a vague shrug of his shoulder. He could honestly care less.

“I’m sure you’re sorry,” he began, taking the time to formulate the words in his head without letting his judgment get to him, “but it really means jackshit if you don’t back it up with some actions.” 

Porcupine’s dark red eyes had popped comically wide at the unexpected curse once again, and Tony swore he heard a strangled gasp come out from one of the parents. Most likely the father.

“As I said before you decided to maim me for life and leave an everlasting scar on my right shoulder: “I’m not the same person that I was before the spring break. I’m not a Deku.””

He paused deliberately, watching as the blond boy furrowed his brows in apparent confusion as if he couldn’t quite comprehend as to why that was.

With a bright smile, Tony continued, determination cladding his voice for all to hear:

“I’m Midoriya Izuku and I will become a hero.”

Chapter Text

Life had, oddly enough, gotten substantially better since his fateful encounter with Porcupine and his parents.

True to their words, Bakugo had not bothered him in class save beyond a few weird looks or a light scoff beneath his breath whenever they passed by, which Tony didn’t mind at all nor paid any particular attention to. The rest of their classmates had also apparently reached some sort of a collective decision on who they should side with in the end and had been tentatively interacting with Tony from time to time.

It wasn’t like they were completely friends, but it was a far cry from the early days of a younger Izuku eating all by his lonesome.

His witty charms had been slowly, but steadily eroding up people’s previous misconceptions of himself, and by the time the first semester of school had finished, he had a small group of people who orbited around his social circle like satellites.

“Any plans for Summer Break?” the cat boy, unironically named Neko, had asked as the final bell rang to signify the end of school.

Japan’s educational schedule was vastly different from what Tony was accustomed to back in America, and it took him some considerable seconds to formulate an answer as he gathered up all of his belongings back into his yellow backpack.

“Not really,” he finally admitted.

One of Neko’s brown cat ears flickered.

“Seriously ?” the boy asked, clearly surprised by the admission. “I would think you would have a whole itinerary planned out already.”

Tony bit back a smile. Gosh, it was honestly so adorable how much these kids sort of looked up to him.

One of the satellites, a girl named Megumi with extremely thick black rectangular glasses and twine braided dark blue pigtails, entered their conversation with a spring in her steps.

“I’m going with my parents to visit my grandparents in Saitama,” she exclaimed with a clap of her hands. “We’re gonna see some of the Shrines and museums there.”

“ Oh, that sounds like fun!” Neko said, his brown cat tail swishing back and forth.

“Nice,” Tony agreed.

He had not yet visited any place beyond his home city of Musutafu, but he was itching to get some traveling mileage once he scourged up enough money.

They continued to discuss more of their plans for the summer as they made their way out of the school and into the courtyard, joined by several additional satellites who hovered around Tony’s all-encompassing alluring presence.

“I’m throwing a pool party,” one of them announced. 

Tony never quite got his name but associated the blond hair and elf ears as miniature Legolas from the Lord of the Rings films. It also helped that the blond boy could produce infinite amounts of exploding homing arrows at a whim. 

Miniature Legolas procured a set of envelopes decorated with embroidered lettering from his messenger bag and began to delegate them out to everyone around him.

“All of you are invited.”

Tony was slightly surprised to find himself receiving one as well and nodded his thanks.

Based on the memories of a younger Midoriya Izuku, this would be the first time in almost a decade that he had been personally invited to a party without any parental interventions.

A quick buzz from his phone in his pockets reminded Tony of his next objective, and he waved goodbye to all of his peers, promising to contact them every now and then for the Summer. On the way out of the courtyard, he spotted Porcupine walking in the opposite direction, surprisingly not surrounded by his usual lackeys this time around. 

The two made brief eye contact, and the creases surrounding Bakugo’s temple deepened significantly. 

Breaking contact first, Tony kept his gaze forward as he continued on his path to greatness, not even bothering to look back at his once former best friend.

The past remained steadfastly behind him.

The Takoba Municipal Beach Park was a sight for sore eyes.

What was once a beautiful coastline hotspot had been reduced to nothing more than a junkyard for people to put their trash and unwanted goods, ruining whatever beauty it had.

However, Tony simply saw it as a paradise.

Taking the steps down onto the sandy beach littered with scraps of metal and broken glass bottles, Tony had never felt any more at home. Procuring a set of thick yellow gloves from backpack, he set about searching through the wreckage, carefully putting aside anything he deemed useful into a pile behind him. He worked diligently, taking his sweet time assessing every piece in his hand with the eyes of an expert technician.

The afternoon sun bore at the back of skin as he worked, sweat dripping down his temple as he took a moment to chug down a bottle of water. Admiring the view of the sparkling clear blue water several feet away, Tony mused on his luck on stumbling such a treasure trove during one of his afternoons walks about the city in an effort to get acquainted with his new surroundings.

Takoba beach park was located in a terribly bad neighborhood. 

One where crimes were rampant enough that even most Pro Heroes were less inclined to patrol the area. Police presence was an all-too-common sight, and even now Tony spotted a pair of police officers patrolling the streets above him. By now, they were quite familiar with his presence here on the beach, though they would sometimes comment on the peculiarity of his interest in the junk littering the sparkling yellow sand.

And for anyone who was daring (and stupid) enough to try and rob a poor little kid like himself, they would quickly find themselves on the bad end of a well-aimed punch to the solar plexus.

Satisfied with today’s findings, Tony packed the scraps into a loose tote bag. He would need to eventually purchase a wagon or something of similar usage if he wanted to carry anything heavier than a circuit board.

A gleam of metal caught his eye on the way out, and Tony pried out a 20th century Roomba still with its proper packings and encased in Styrofoam.

Tony grinned.

Jackpot.

Bundling up the product in his arms, Tony finally walked up the stairs to the streets above. He had already informed Inko that he would be arriving home late, so she wouldn’t worry heedlessly for his safety. The path to the nearest metro was a good couple of streets away, and Tony minded his surroundings, taking special note of the boarded-up stores and homeless street bums sleeping on wet cardboard boxes. He imagined that this place was once a populated community, but once the beach had become a designated dumping ground, tourism quickly died, and businesses moved their revenues elsewhere to more profitable districts.

Even Pro-Heroes avoided the area like the plague.

Tossing a 100-yen coin into the empty can of a street bum with noticeable doglike heteromorphic features, Tony resolved to get the Takoba beach cleaned up to the best of his ability. If the beach was accessible again to the general public, tourism would rise, which in turn would drive interest from investors looking to invest in a potentially new market.

Of course, something must also be done with the rampant crimes and homelessness that permeated the deeper, seedier parts of the district, also known as Dagobah district, but it wouldn’t be so easy as simply shuttling the homeless around to another part of the neighborhood to be all but forgotten about.

Lost in thought, Tony hadn’t noticed he had wandered into an alleyway until the very last second, stumbling onto what he presumed was a drug exchange between two very shady looking people.

“ Oi, what’s this?” the first drawled out, blinking his beady black eyes down at Tony. 

He was a giant of man, easily reaching the height of seven feet, possibly more. His arms were thick like tree trunks and packed with muscles, the ends of each of his fingers jagged like claws. “What do we have here?”

“Lookssss like a kid to me?” said the second one, a heteromorph with a reptilian-like head. Other than that, there was nothing else remarkable about him.

Swearing beneath his breath, Tony took a cautious step back and offered the two men his best charming smile.

“Don’t mind me fellas,” Tony replied, slowly inching his way back to the entrance. “I’m just a little kid trying to find his way back home to his mommy before it gets dark.” 

Meanwhile, he mentally assessed the situation before him. He could probably take down the snake dude with a couple of quick jabs to the chest, but the muscular man might be a problem.

Slitting his narrowish yellow eyes, the reptilian man took a step forward, forked tongue flickering out briefly from his mouth.

“We’ll sssssee if that isssss true.”

Cocking his tiny head from side to side, the muscular man suddenly eyed the Roomba cradled in Tony’s arms with interest.

“What’s that you go there, kid?” gesturing over at the machinery. “Some new fancy equipment or something?”

“Lookssss expensive,” commented the other.

“I mean…I guess?” Tony shrugged, unsure if Roomba in this universe was considered an expensive home item or not. “But unless you want to steal some poor elementary school kid’s science project, then I suggest you not bother.”

The two men obviously took offense at that, and the tall one took a giant step forward, halving the distance between them in a matter of seconds to loom over Tony.

“You’re so sure about that, uh, brat ?” He cracked his fingers, the muscles within his biceps budging grotesquely with throbbing veins that popped through his pale skin. “Why don’t we find out, eh?”

Tony scowled, preparing for an evitable fight.

Just my luck…

“Oh ! There you are.”

And just like the angels above, a knight in shining white armor appeared from behind him. It was a boy around his age, with short blond hair swept to the front around a slightly chubby oval face. He was lean and well-built, with dark almond eyes that stared at Tony worriedly as the boy briskly made his way over.

“I was looking for you,” his savior said, a small delicate smile around his lips as he gripped tightly onto Tony’s shoulder. The one with the burn mark but Tony scarcely made a sound of hurt. The boy squeezed, a gesture of reassurance as he continued to maintain strong eye contact. “It’s getting late, you know. Don’t want your parents getting worried now do we?”

Tony slowly nodded his head, relaxing his stiff taunt position beneath the boy’s confident presence.

“Sorry about that,” the blond boy chirped, directing his attention onto the pair of men who were staring at the newcomer with nothing but suspicion. The smile took on a sharp edge as he placed himself protectively in front of Tony. “My friend here gets pretty scattered brain easily.”

“For sure,” Tony finally chimed in, laughing light-heartedly. “Must be my quirk acting up again.”

A big fat lie, but no one needed to know the whole truth.

“So…” once the laughter had died down, “We’ll be on our way now.”

His savior began to nudge Tony towards the exit, only to be stopped by a low growl emitting out in front of them. The taller man had moved, narrowing his black beady eyes at the two boys.

“Don’t be so sure about that, brats.”

Without any warning, the man lunged, one jagged hand growing three times wider in size as he closed in on Tony and the other boy with frightening speed for a man of his massive stature.

Barely having time to think let alone even breath, Tony could only watch in horror as the palm of the man’s outstretched hand reached his face, barely grazing his cheek before something pale and furry struck the man off course. The attack made direct contact, sending said person flying toward a nearby garbage bin where he hit his noggin with a resounding solid crack.

In an instant, the man was out cold.

Blinking a few times as his lungs finally came back online, Tony followed the direction of the unconscious man over to the thing that had struck him down like a smooth criminal.

It was a tail.

A goddamn tail that had been conveniently hidden behind the blond boy before they were accosted.

“Seriously?” his savior huffed out, shifting his position to a familiar martial art stance as his tail flickered ominously from his rear. “You guys just couldn’t leave us well alone?”

Tony was in love.

He caught movement from the corner of his eyes; the reptilian man who had been previously stunned by his companion’s defeat, had decided to go on the offense, stretching his neck from afar with a jaw stretched wide open. Two tiny white fangs dripping with something like poison were clearly visible in his mouth.

“Duck!”

The blond boy listened, narrowly avoiding the Roomba that Tony had tossed like he had seen Captain America done plenty of times during their missions with his shield. It landed soundly onto the snake man’s mouth, potentially breaking one of his fangs as he was tossed back a few feet away from them.

Still got it. A wide and victorious grin had spread across Tony’s face. Eat your heart out, Capsicle.

He had no time to celebrate though as the other boy had grabbed onto his wrist, tugging Tony back toward the entrance of the alleyway for safety.

“Come on!” he urged, “We should go before they wake up.”

Tony allowed himself to be dragged only to stop his feet partially near the end, suddenly remembering the Roomba he had left behind.

“Give me a sec.” 

He hurried over to the reptilian man who was thankfully out cold, with no broken fang in sight, which was good news since Tony didn’t really want to seriously disfigure the guy. Prying the Roomba out from the man’s slimy mouth, Tony took a quick second to assess the damage before returning back to his savior. He reached out to grip the other boy’s hand. 

“Now, we can go.”

His savior only arched one of his thin brows as they briskly made their way out from the alleyway, leading Tony down to another street where there were more police hopefully present to report the two men for trying to attack them.

“Is that a… Roomba ?” the blond tail boy finally had asked, sending said machinery a second long glance.

Grinning brightly, Tony answered, voice all chippy like he was about to sell the boy a product of a lifetime, “Couldn’t leave home without it.”

The boy tried desperately to hide his snort only to fail spectacularly. The snort quickly morphed into laughter and the two were soon giggling like preteen school girls as they continued to walk hand in hand with the afternoon sun on their backs.

Ojiro Mashiro was the name of his knight in shining white armor.

He was around the same age as Tony, living somewhere in Tokyo with his mother, grandmother and baby little sister named Akasuki. His tail, long and hairless save for the very tip flanked by strands of blonde, happened to be his quirk, one that he didn’t seem too particularly eager to discuss at length despite how insanely good he was with it.

Apparently, Ojiro also loved Martial Arts, practically living and breathing it every day in a Dojo that happened to be located near the Takoba Municipal Beach Park and was more than excited to find out that Tony himself had some experience with that particular fighting style, insisting that he also join the Dojo as a student which Tony readily accepted.

Hardworking, calm, and with a profound sense of duty and dignity, Ojiro was every bit the heart and soul of his dearest best friend, Rhodey, and Tony couldn’t be happier to have met Ojiro Mashiro in this newfound life of his.

“ Platypus ,” Tony accidentally said one day when they were out by the beach sorting through the endless piles of rubbish and debris. “Come check this out.”

After convincing his newest best friend to join him on an excursion to the junkyard at Dagobah Beach in an effort to clean out the whole mess, Ojiro had found an additional way to utilize the ample space to also help hone in his martial arts skills. Creating makeshift punching bags with the broken-down machinery, and using his giant tail to break down the objects apart into easily sizable pieces to carry and then place into their respective dumping  bins for proper disposal.

Overall, Ojiro had thought of the cleanup as a noble cause and had been assisting Tony ever since.

So, when his best friend didn't appear automatically by his side a few moments later, Tony looked up from the pile of garbage he had been sorting through, a screwdriver in one of his hands. Ojiro was staring him down with an odd sort of expression, brows furrowed, and lips heavily pursed in deep thought.

“Ojiro?”

The boy quickly shook his head.

“Sorry,” apologizing as he made his way over, navigating through the shaky terrain with an ease of a seasoned pro. Once he arrived, he bent down low at Tony’s current height level, turning his attention onto the radiator Tony had been meticulously dismantling for a good part of an hour. “What did you want to show me?”

Narrowing his eyes, Tony wiped the oil stains on his gloves onto a nearby towel. One of the many things Ojiro had in common with Rhodey was (unfortunately for him) their sheer stubbornness in not admitting something was wrong until Tony pried it out from them with his bare hands.

He had to handle this delicately lest he struck a nerve and caused his best friend to double down.

“Nothing important at the moment,” tossing the towel to the side. 

Now facing the other boy, Tony carefully schooled his expression into something gentle and reassuring as to not spook his friend. 

“Mind telling me what that was all about?” 

At Ojiro’s visible confusion, Tony explained his reasoning for the question. 

“I called for you, and you kinda zoned out on me for a moment there.”

The creases between Ojiro’s brows suddenly deepened, and his tail swished back and forth behind him, telegraphing his growing anxiety unbeknownst to himself.

“Oh.”

Clearly, his friend wasn’t about to give him an answer, so Tony moved onto plan B.

“Look, I didn’t mean any offense for calling you Platypus,” he said softly, averting his gaze to the gentle waves of the ocean only a short distance away from them. “I meant it as a term of endearment since you remind me so much of a dear old friend. Someone I cherish till the end of time.” An image of a smirking Rhodey appeared briefly in his head, and Tony couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “I love him like a brother, and whenever I see you…I just think of how much you two would have gotten along swingingly.”

Remembering bits and pieces of his previous life was never easy.

“So, if you would like me to not call you that, all you need to do is let me know and I won’t ever do it again.”

Ojiro was silent, not showing any visible response to the words save for another swish of his tail.

Eventually he spoke, breaking the silence of the crashing of oceanic waves and squeak of seagulls with the quiet somber tone of his deep voice.

“For a long time, people had referred to me as something other than Ojiro,” he began, directing his attention onto Tony and Tony made sure to maintain strong eye contact, knowing that his best friend would appreciate the silent gesture. “I’m sure you know how people like me are treated in society. Heteromorphs is the current favored political term used to describe someone not quite human without demeaning them. But before all of that, before quirks were seen as the norm, demeaning words such as freaks, mutants, or even abominations, were used in the same way to demote us versus the rest of society.”

Tony remained silent but had twisted his features in displeasure.

If being quirkless was considered a sin, being a heteromorphic was on whole another level of Dante’s Inferno.

Openly treated either with fear or contempt, those with clearly visible mutant-like features were often viewed as inhuman with lower chances of gaining suitable future prospects in terms of their career or relationships compared to their more human counterparts.

At least Tony could pretend he had a quirk.

Someone like Ojiro, whose only heteromorphic trait was his giant furless tail would have a hard time finding potential jobs who weren’t discriminatory against mutants (however illegal and unconstitutional that it was).

Even in the hero rankings, those with dominant heteromorphic traits such as Gang Orca or Ryukyu were mostly seen in a different sort of light and scrutinized harshly by the media. 

Hell, as of recently, Gang Orca had even been nominated as fourth place in a highly popular teen magazine that was ranking Pro Heroes who happened to look like villains (unsurprisingly, Endeavor got second place).

Addressing said disparities had been such a difficult endeavor, one that had no clear-cut victories or much overwhelming support by politicians.

Ojiro blinked, and Tony caught a glistening tear appearing at the corner of one of his eyes.

“People had called me many things,” he continued, breathing lightly accelerating as if he was back reliving in those horrible past memories, “Monkey was a popular one. Tailboy or Kangaroo was another, or even Plain Old Boring Ojiro .” That one was said so viciously that even the furry end of his tail had bristled like an enraged cat. “I’m just never seen as Ojiro Mashiro.”

He rubbed his eyes.

“So, you can imagine my shock to hear you calling me Platypus out of the blue. I didn’t know what to think.” 

Shaking his head, Ojiro clenched his hands as his gaze turned to the sandy ground.

“I thought that you wouldn’t be like most people. That you would be different.”

Tony reached over to hug his best friend.

They remain embraced like this for a very long moment, Tony pointedly ignoring the small hiccups emanating out from the young boy, and the wet stains on his t-shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have said it.”

Another hiccup, and Ojiro gradually shook his head once again.

“It’s fine. I didn’t expect you to know.”

“Still.” 

Tony pulled away briefly, using his thumb to gently wipe away the tear stains, a light blush erupting over Ojiro’s face from the simple kind gesture. 

“I should have. After all, I know what it’s like to be called names too.”

Ojiro was well aware of his quirkless status.

It was one of the reasons they had bonded so quickly, as Ojiro’s mother had no quirk of her own save for a tiny vestigial tail that was only there for cosmetic purposes.

Closing his eyes once more again, Ojiro leaned his head against the curvature of Tony’s right shoulder, his breathing evening out to a steady quiet lull that synced in time with the arrival of crashing waves.

“That’s true, Midoriya.”

They decided to take a short break right afterwards, and using their combined merger pool of money, were able to purchase a couple of chicken sandwiches and sweets from a nearby local 7/11. The poor teen cashier manning the front had taken absolute pity on them and had given them some day-old pork buns for free alongside with their food. 

Together, they eat their lunch on top of the staircase leading down to the beach, admiring their work so far as they eat. Much still needed to be done, but already there was a noticeable size of garbage removed from the beach and into the nearest dumpster bins. Tony estimated that it would take more than a year or so to completely clean the beach with just him and Ojiro alone. 

Maybe they should spread the word and get more people on board to help them out. 

Lost in thought on envisioning a machine to break down metal into efficient energy, he hadn’t noticed his friend nudging him lightly on the shoulder.

“Midoriya?”

Tony turned to face his friend, swallowing a bite of his chicken sandwich. 

“What’s up?”

The nearly hairless tail behind Ojiro’s back swished in response, and his best friend chewed on the bottom of his lips. 

“I…” 

Then shook his head as if not wanting to continue finishing that sentence. 

“Do you also want to be a hero?” he asked instead.

Out of all the things they had talked about throughout their time together, heroics was surprisingly not one of them. Whether it was because of Tony’s quirklessness or Ojiro’s lack of interest to discuss his own quirk, the topic never really came up in their conversations. 

Odd, now that Tony thought more about it, given how many kids his age would talk about the Pro Heroes in Japan like they were the second coming of Jesus.

Taking his time drinking his iced green tea, Tony stared past the beach and to the horizon where the setting sun was ablaze in a glory of red and orange.  He remembered his past life as Iron Man, all the glitz and fame he had in the beginning before he started to see the repercussions of his actions. All the deaths he had witnessed, all the destruction his inventions had caused to millions, how humanity had almost sunk into an apocalypse right after the BLIP had happened. 

And yet, humanity remained steadfastly resilient. 

He saw people from all walks of life come together to support one another through the difficult five year period, saw the world cheer as he and the rest of the Avengers defeated Thanos once and for all.

A grin warmed its way across his face as Tony answered the question with a resolute, “Yes, I do want to become a hero.”

When he turned to face his friend again, Ojiro’s dark eyes had widened for a fraction more than usual, his tail twitching in response to his declaration for a lifetime of heroism. 

“So, do I,” he responded back, quiet but certain of the possibility in the way that he spoke. The corners of his lips drooped ever so slightly as Ojiro then released a soft sigh into the air. “But according to most of my classmates, my quirk isn’t something useful for heroics or rescue. It's nothing flashy compared to other people’s quirk, and some consider the fact that having a tail as my only quirk is lame…” 

“That’s not true even in the slightest bit.”

His best friend blinked, unable to come up with a proper response to that so Tony continued with speaking, listing out his reasoning as to why Ojiro’s quirk was anything but useless. 

“For one,” using his fingers to list them all out one at a time, “you saved me with just your tail alone. Many people would expect a person to fight with only their fists or feet, but never a god-damn tail.” 

That earned him a tiny squeak from Ojiro and Tony resisted celebrating with a grin. 

“Two, you took it upon yourself to help me out even though we were complete strangers at the time. How many people can say that they’re willing to help and actually mean it?” 

The wrinkles between Ojiro’s brows grew in contemplation. 

“And three–” Here, Tony really smiled, giving his best friend a wink as well. “You can’t say you’re not a hero when I already think you are one for saving me.”

A light blush darkened Ojiro’s pale skin tone as he swiftly averted his gaze away in embarrassment. 

“I…”

He coughed. 

“I see.” 

Once he gathered his composure back again, Ojiro returned his attention back over to Tony, a hesitant but small smile gracing part of his features. 

“Thank you,” he said with clear open honesty, his tail curling around Tony’s frame as an unspoken gesture of his appreciation. “No one had ever said anything like that to me before…”

“Well, that’s their loss.”

Chuckling, Ojiro seemed inclined to agree for once. 

They remained together in companionable silence, enjoying the rest of their food and tossing some of the leftovers over to a pack of seagulls that had been steadily eyeing them for some time now, ready to swoop in. 

Declaring that it was finally time to leave as it was getting pretty late, Tony walked Ojiro to the nearest train station that would take him back home to Tokyo. He didn’t mind the added waiting time as they sat next to each other on a bench beside a sleeping overworked salaryman. 

“Midoriya–”

“Izuku,” Tony interrupted, aiming a friendly grin toward his friend, hoping to not come off as rude for cutting off whatever he was about to say. “I would prefer it if all my friends called me Izuku from now on.”

Blinking, Ojiro slowly curled his tail into a question mark.

“Okay,” he said, then paused as if trying to process the whole idea of calling someone he had only known for a little while by their first name. Japan had certain protocols and etiquette when it came to addressing someone of a certain status, older or younger, and Tony was quite honestly too tired to bother with all the semantics of it at times. “I think you can still call me Ojiro for now.” 

A synthesized male voice suddenly spoke out from above, alerting them that the train for Tokyo will be arriving shortly and Ojiro stood up from his seat, stuffing his hands into the front of his pockets. 

As the train began to make its approach to the station, his friend abruptly turned around and pulled Tony into a bone-crushing hug, his huge tail wrapping around them both like an adorable cuddly anaconda.  

“Oh,” Tony said, voice slightly muffled into Ojiro’s jacket that smelled like green tea, body spray and sweat.

He could get used to this.

“Thank you,” Ojiro said again, before pulling away. There was a smile on his face, brighter and more precious than before that it could rival any precious metal in the world. Even outranking Vibranium. “And I also don’t mind you calling me Platypus as well… Izuku-kun .”

Matching his best friend’s smile, Tony pulled him back into another big hug just as the train doors opened up to let out its weary passengers and make room for new ones.

“Sounds good to me, Platypus .”

The Musutafu Central Library was in dire need of an extreme overhaul. 

Books from God knows where lined the dusty shelves, arranged in no particular order as Tony scanned for any potential rare finds to include in his cart. He was currently in the Technology and Computer section, though that was more of a nominally title than the entire truth. 

Hardly anything published past the last decade or so existed within these bookshelves and Tony was at his wits end trying to find anything substantial. The books he already had in his cart were alright, but he wanted to be absolutely sure that his next big project won’t run into any issues. 

Fed up by this point, and vowing to write a strongly worded letter to his local councilman for better resources for children in low-income neighborhoods, Tony made his way over to the front desk. 

“That sure is a lot of books,” the librarian, a middle aged woman with swirling pink hazel hair, commented almost absentmindedly as she scanned his stuff one by one with a scanner. “Aiming to be a software developer or something?”

“Maybe,” Tony answered with a shrug while giving her a deceptively innocent grin. “Preferably, I would like to get a cushy job as a hacker of some sorts, you know? Cracking through highly secured governmental computers and storing all of my money in an off-shore bank in Switzerland. Really depends on how I feel today.” 

He had remembered the immense joy that he had when he had easily broken through the Pentagon’s firewall back in high school on a triple doggy dare. The horrified expression on his father’s face when the FBI had come knocking on their front door was absolutely priceless to witness firsthand.  

Flabbergasted, the librarian quickly scanned the rest of his books without another word.

It was halfway through the Summer Break that Tony was finally able to complete the first of his many many projects.

Booting up the machinery, he waited as the battery light grew from red to green, a small single beep indicating that it was up and running. The Roomba, now converted into a part cleaning machine, part house security, let out a whirl of excitement as it zipped through Tony’s bedroom. It had been given a fresh new coat of paint, with the top surface painted a deep brown. Feeling extra devious, he had included a pair of googly eyes and thick cardboard cutout of a unibrow. 

“Hello,” the Roomba, chirped from a hidden speaker as it made its way back over to him, “What is my purpose?”

Beaming with satisfaction, Tony said in a jovial voice, “Your purpose is to clean shit up, and take out any unwanted trash.”

The Roomba beeped twice, indicating that it understood its new objective. It began to sweep the floor, a dustpan and brush appearing out within its tiny body as it cleaned up the tiny scraps of paper and empty soda cans that Tony had strategically placed all around his room to test the full capabilities of the Roomba.

It successfully completed its current goal in a matter of minutes (actually six and a half as Tony had used a stopper to keep track of the time), and zoomed its way back over to him, eagerly awaiting for its next set of directions. 

Giving it a friendly pat on its head, Tony shook his head, having none at the moment for it. 

“That’s it for now. Good job…” 

Tony’s grin widened as he settled on a suitable name for the machinery.

“GOOMBA. ”

Later that day, he made sure to introduce Inko to the wonders of owning a fully operated non remote controlled Roomba.

He completed his next project near the end of Summer Break, just as Fall began to settle over the city of Musutafu, chilling the air, and shifting the once vibrant colors of the trees into an array of red, orange and dull brown.

Tony had holed himself for the better part of each day in the study room, spending long hours with an achingly bad sitting posture, as he wrote hundreds and hundreds of intricate (and very complex) strings of codes into a Machine Learning Model he had found for free somewhere off the internet. 

No way was he about to pay over a thousand yen a month for some ripoff Chat GPT site. 

It was the last weekend before school started again, and Tony was once again back in the study room typing away the last few sets of codes onto the Model. The weather outside was a balmy 25 degrees Celsius and the heat generated by the monitors overworking themselves silly was contributing to rising temperature inside the room to the point where Inko had allowed him to use the central air conditioning for a little bit as to not overheat. 

Cooled and refreshed from a nice glass of ice-cold green tea (courtesy of Inko), Tony reviewed his work one more time before clicking the enter button to process the entire sequences of codes. 

It took some time, more than an hour or so, and Tony spent it by checking on the rest of his projects, occasionally going back to the software program to ensure that everything was going well. His online friend, Mindjack2000 hasn't been online for quite some time since they had last spoken and he was genuinely worried that something terrible had happened to them. 

Sending another unread message asking if they were alright, Tony scrolled through the list of his online friends. Most of them were either offline or playing a game as was indicated on their status, and Tony messaged a few of the list here and there that were open to chat. 

One of them responded back almost immediately. 

                              MudMan : Yo @AllMightJR ! How are you?

With a wide grin, Tony answered his friend with a series of text explaining his latest project to the enthusiasm of his online friend. Mudman, only known by his aliases and very cute avatar of a giant gray and white bear plushie called Totoro, was another constant companion Tony had found on a random hero forum for the Wild Wild Pussycats of all places. 

Said person was greatly interested in becoming one, and had been steadily training himself to take not only the general Yueei Hero Entrance Exam but also its Recommendation Exam as well–a particularly difficult set of exams for those who wanted a direct and early access for one of the coveted hero courses’ seats in Yueei High. 

Like the general exam, anything pertaining to the Recommendation one was also shrouded deep in mystery. 

Wishing Mudman the best of luck, Tony hoped for a chance to meet said online friend in person someday when it came time to enter High School. The idea of trying out the Recommendation exam was extremely tempting, but Tony was unsure on how to proceed on the first main requirement: a sponsorship by either a registered Pro Hero or an Academic Institute of high social standing. 

There were only so few people in the world today who would take a chance upon a poor quirkless kid like himself.

By the time they had finished their lively conversation, the Machine Learning Model was ready and Tony bid his friend a goodbye before checking it out. 

He grabbed the headphones, breathing in deeply as he adjusted it over his ears. 

With the mic leveled to his mouth, Tony asked, a “Hello?” into the plastic foam and waited.

Moments passed, tentative and slow, and Tony stirred restless in his seat, waiting for some sort of response back. 

Just as he was about ready to give up and go back to the drawing board, another voice, one that was unmistakably British and male, emanated out to him from the speakers of the computer. 

“Good evening, Sir,” the voice answered, and Tony nearly cried. 

He couldn’t believe it.

“Hey.”

Teardrops formed around the edges of his eyes, but Tony was too overwhelmed by emotions to even notice it. He reached out to touch the computer screen, warm and positively beaming with life beneath the pads of his fingertips. 

“Nice to see you again, J.A.R.V.I.S. ”

He smiled. 

My dear old friend.  

Chapter Text

“Over here is fine, Aizen-sama.”

Yaoyorozu Momo, heiress of the Yaoyorozu empire, turned her gaze away from the tinted window where she had been steadily counting down the numbers of blocks in her head as her driver took her to her intended destination. 

With only a slight dip of his head confirming that he had heard her, her chauffeur and personal body-guard, Aizen, expertly maneuvered the sleek black Bentley Continental GT into a nearby street, turning into a parking lot for a series of commercial district shops ranging from books to flowers boutique for special significant events. 

Momo knew all of this, of course, having meticulously planned out the entire route a few days before the designated hangout date for hours on end.

Keeping the engine idly, Aizen met her gaze through the rearview mirror. 

“Are you certain you would be alright by yourself, my lady?”

Aizen’s tone was all professional but it didn’t hide the tiny nugget of concern he has for her safety. 

Her chauffeur had been a part of her life since childhood, and Momo gave him a small warm smile unlike the usual ones she would give to the public at her parent’s social fundraiser events.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him once more again, as well as for herself. 

It wasn’t often that Momo would find herself allowed to venture out on her own without any additional assistance; whether it was with her parents or with one of the plethora of caretakers residing on the clock from her mansion in Aichi Prefecture, she was never found alone outside of home for safety reasons. 

Today, though, was different.

She was aiming to become a Pro-Hero someday and couldn’t afford to allow herself to remain perpetually stuck in the shadows of her parents’ influential far reaches throughout Japan and beyond. 

Grabbing her mini Rosso Corsa Chanel purse, which paired exceptionally well with her short sleeve scarlet evening gown and black strapless heels, Momo stepped out of the car. The cold frost nipped at her face, and she pulled tightly on the faux fur coat that had been gifted to her by her father for her birthday. 

She was almost tempted to produce a pair of earmuffs with her quirk but quietly refrained from doing so. 

After all, the walk to the restaurant thankfully wasn’t too far away from here. 

Rolling down the front window of the driver’s side of the car, Aizen peered up at her through his rim glasses with dark brown eyes cool and collected as was his quirk, Complete Hypnosis . With a simple touch or glance, he could alter and control the five senses of any person he so wished. It had made him an excellent body-guard and one of Momo’s beloved martial art teachers. 

“You look amazing as always, my lady,” he said, dipping his head respectfully at her. 

Giggling slightly into her hand, as it was unbecoming for a woman of her status to show her teeth so crudely, Momo gently shook her head, the tips of her long dark ponytail brushing against her neck.

“Thank you, Aizen-sama,” she replied, “I will be out for quite a while so I hope you don’t mind.”

“Nonsense, my lady.” Aizen pulled out a small iPod touch and air pods from one of the cabin spaces beside him. “I have downloaded a substantial amount of podcasts to keep me company for the night.” 

Momo clapped her hands in delight. 

Anything involving educational productive lessons were a sure favorite of hers despite it not being something common within her own age demographic.

“Oh! You must let me know what you think of this week’s Cementoss podcast on his take on The Housekeeper and the Professor by Yoko Ogawa. I feel that his analyzes on how women are still treated in today’s society based on the narration of the prose was informative and something I never considered as a part of…”

She paused abruptly, realizing to her chagrin that she was rambling. 

Again. 

Her chauffeur took it all in stride, though, simply nodding his head once more to indicate that he had heard everything. Unlike most of her classmates, he had thought of her ramblings as an endearing quirk of hers.

“Of course, my lady. That will be the first one I will listen to then.”

Not wanting to waste anymore time, Momo bid Aizen a goodbye, adjusting her coat once more as she trudged delicately through the icy slush left on the sidewalk.

The streets of Roppongi were brimming with life for all sorts of attractions, from street vendors to gentlemen’s clubs. Some of the male hosts standing in front of the latter gave Momo an appreciative leer, eying her dressy outfit up and down in a show to get her attention but she paid them no mind, keeping her head up high and posture strong as she continued onward to her intended destination. 

It was a bit unfortunate that she had been born with a more… mature physique compared to her peers. 

Her quirk, Creation, allowed her to create any non-living objects no matter the complexity so long as knew the atomic configuration of said object. In return she would use the lipids from her body to create the materials, burning through her fat storage faster than the average person.

It meant that she had to tether between the line of constantly eating to maintain her energy-consuming quirk, but also not put on too much weight that would be considered unsightly for her delicate figure as told by her mother. 

All well meaning, of course, but had sparked one too many heated arguments between them when it came to applying her quirk for heroism. How can Momo be expected to save people if she had so little fat on her?

Oh well.

Questions to consider for a future Momo.

Sooner than expected, she arrived at her destination: A Hot Pot restaurant on the second floor of a commercial store that specializes in Shabu Shabu. Momo had judiciously looked at the menu before arriving here, wanting to ensure she knew everything there was to know about the cuisine so as to impress her new friends with her knowledge. 

She even went as far as to dine at a three star Michelin Shabu Shabu restaurant with her parents last week somewhere in downtown Tokyo just to complete the full experience of eating said food.

Inside, it was a welcome respite from the cold, the air deliciously warm and the decor in tune for the holidays with swaying red lanterns and glittering complex snowflake origami that was undoubtedly created by someone’s quirk. 

After informing the hostess manning the front desk that she was waiting for her friend, Momo took a seat by the window, observing the rustle and bustle of the streets below. 

The intended time Midoriya had sent to her via text message was around 6ish and a quick glance at her iPhone 30 Pro Max revealed it to be half past 5. She had some time to wait, and used it as a way to gather up all of her thoughts into one neat organized line in her mind.

Midoriya…

The thought of the smirking green haired teen sent a light blush blossoming over Momo’s face, turning her usual milky white complexion into a pretty pink rose. If she hadn’t been persuaded by her Mathematics professor to join the National Japan Mensa Gifted Youth program, she would have never met someone she was starting to consider as one of her closest friends. 

A rarity given how superficial people can be once they know who she was. 

Incredibly smart, resourceful, and a wealth of knowledge, Midoriya Izuku had been quite unlike his plain unassuming appearance when Momo had first met him. One witty comment on the type of tea she had been drinking, Imperial Golden Tips, and how it had reminded him of a certain Pre-Quirk sci-fi movie, and two of them have been inseparable ever since.

Not to say there haven’t been others that she hasn’t also met at the Summer program.

Ida Tenya, the straight-forward younger brother of the well-known, more easy-going Turbo Hero: Ingenium, was one such person. Then there was Sekigai Kashiko, a well-mannered girl that exhibited great leadership skills for her young age. And finally, Intelli Saiko, a pompous but highly driven girl who had lofty ambitions quite similar to Momo’s own.

Together, they have become a sort of Breakfast Club , another popular Pre Quirk era film that Tony, as Midoriya liked to sometimes be called, had referenced more than once on the occasion. 

Lost in her thoughts, she had almost missed the ding of new arrivals entering the restaurant. A boy and a girl roughly around her age if she was to guess based on their appearances. 

Catching her eyes first was the boy; tall, lanky, handsome, and with thick black hair jutting haphazardly out from a zig-zag patterned headband in spiky waves. 

He was dressed more casually than what was warranted for a business casual attire; black slacks and a loose brown collared shirt button halfway  with a nice pair of thick, durable worker boots that reminded Momo of the sulfur mines she had visited a few times with her father in Indonesia for his work.

With sharp angular gray eyes, and an even sharper scowl on his face, he made for a sort of slightly imposing figure that might potentially curse Momo out for staring at him for far too long then what was deemed acceptable so she swiftly turned her attention onto the next person standing beside him. 

Another girl with dark ebony hair with the front fringe dyed a blood red, or salmon pink in a few hidden places. She was dressed the complete opposite of her male companion; a black form fitting dress, with burgundy stockings, and black ankle length boots all covered by a short white puffer jacket. 

A pretty spider pendant, with a single ruby placed onto its center, dangled over her smooth unblemished neck.

Momo wasn’t as well versed in Arachnology as she was in Biology, or Chemistry, but she knew that it could only be one particular species that was on the girl’s neck. 

A Black Widow, or Latrodectus, as was its genus name. 

Cerulean dark eyes suddenly met hers and the girl cocked her head to the side, gaze cool and observant as they stared at each other from across the waiting room. There was a deep familiarity to her posture, a sort of quiet confidence that bespoke decades of experiences in kicking butt and looking good while doing it.

Something Momo secretly had wanted to achieve sometime in her life. 

The girl turned back to her companion, and then spoke in what Momo presumed was in a deliberately loud voice, a soft musical pitch in her tone that carried far across the quiet room. 

“Midoriya said to wait here, correct?” she asked, not as a question but as a statement. 

Momo’s ears perked up. 

Midoriya had mentioned that he was inviting a few of his friends from Junior High to their little dinner social event; a boy that liked to wear headbands as part of his everyday attire, and a wide-eyed manic pixie girl with long pink dreads. 

The boy at least matched the first description almost impressively well, but the girl did not. 

Unless Midoriya had confused her dyed red hair for pink, but that didn’t seem likely to be the case. Still, Momo rose up to her feet, dusting imaginary dust mites off from her impeccable outfit. 

“Yep!” The tall, lanky boy had responded to his friend’s question in a deep baritone voice quite unlike what Momo had imagined it to be. It held a rough drawl to it that was common from those living in the Chūbu region of Honshu. Currently, he was occupied by whatever it was on his phone. “Said he should be here within half an hour or so, give or take.”

The girl looked back at Momo expectantly, and she took her chance. 

Social interactions and proper etiquette had been instilled onto her since birth by her parents and Headmistress, but interacting with those around her own personal age group had always been a source of unpredictable difficulty for Momo. 

She was often told by her classmates that she spoke too formal and old-fashioned than what was deemed necessary, and her tendency to over-explain every single detail wasn’t always appreciated by them.

Approaching the two teens, Momo cleared her throat hoping to gain their attention. 

She already had the girl’s; a twinkle of amusement in her cerulean dark eyes as she nodded to Momo in silent greeting, but the boy was still entranced by whatever he was doing on his phone, the sound of high-pitched animated female voices filling the surrounding air. 

“Uhm, excuse me?” deciding to start the conversation by easing into a familiar topic, “I couldn’t help but notice you had mentioned someone by the name of Midoriya? It wouldn’t happen to be Midoriya Izuku, now, would it?”

The girl didn’t respond save for a quick quirk of her brows to show that she wasn’t all that surprised that Momo knew of the person they were talking about, but the boy simply made a noncommittal sort of grunt from the back of his throat, still highly engrossed on whatever was on his phone. 

Undeterred by the lack of responses, Momo continued onward, bowing in a respectful manner that her Head Mistress had taught back in her grammar tutoring lessons. 

“Then it is a pleasure to make your acquaintances. I am Yaoyorozu Momo.”

The girl let out a small hum. 

“Kodai Yui,” was all she said. 

Finally, the boy tore his gaze away from his phone, gray eyes growing wide in evident surprise as he fully took in Momo’s elegant appearance. 

“Holy fuck.” 

The crude language had Momo gasping slightly behind her gloved hand. She had grown up without hearing such debauchery in her homelife. 

“You’re beautiful.”

She hadn’t been expecting that as well. 

It wasn’t the first time she had been told she was beautiful. It was a daily occurrence in her private school, Niamosa Private Academy, but it was mostly done in a leering type of manner where it was quite clear what the underlined intention had meant.

Here, the boy stared up at her (and he wasn’t too short compared to most men she had met before, nearly reaching up to her nose) as if she was a Goddess descending from the highest peak of Mount Olympus, cladded in a radiant, flowing white toga and ready to bestow her unlimited knowledge onto the common folks below. 

It was…quite a thing to witness firsthand, she must admit.

The girl, Kodai Yui, gave him a rough nudge into the upper ribs of his torso that had even Momo wincing in sympathy. That had to have hurt.

“What the–!”

“Sorry,” Kodai said, not looking the least bit apologetic for her friend as she kept her composed quiet gaze onto Momo, “but Awase here gets pretty stupid when he’s around pretty girls. Part of his quirk.”

A deep blush had erupted over Awase’s face like a volcano, and he sputtered complete nonsense, trying desperately to regain his composure to no avail. 

Kodai shook her head, managing to look both amused and unimpressed at the same time.

Coughing loudly into the fist of his left hand, the boy offered Momo his other hand in greeting, averting his wide gaze down to his Worker boots that Momo now noticed was dirtied by a bit of snow and icy slush from his walk over to here.

“I’m really sorry for the blunder,” he said, the blush almost disappearing completely by the time he spoke. His gray eyes suddenly rose up to meet her own deep onyx once more and the deep blush returned back with a vengeance. “I’m Awase Yosetsu. Nice to meet you.”

Smoothly recovering from her shock, Momo extended her own hand, shaking it with Awase, a little surprised by the strength laden within his firm grip.  

One can tell a lot about a person’s lifestyle based on their hands, her father had often reminded her, and Awase had a hard worker quality sort of hands, rough with tiny calluses dotting the edge of each of his fingers. 

Quickly, Momo deduced that his quirk must have something to do with his fingers.

“So…” 

Awase finally let go of her hand, using it now to comb through the unruly black spikes of his hair. 

“You said you’re Yaoyorozu, right? Like the Yaoyorozu, the highly influential industrial enterprise that creates support items for heroes and civilians?”

Repressing the urge to sigh as it would be seen as unfeminine like, Momo managed to aim a polite but strained smile at Awase. As always, her surname would always be a tedious source of contention for her when it came to interacting with anyone who knew of her parents’ vast wealth and fortune. 

She was forever grateful for the lifestyle that was granted to her by them, but it never made it easier when dealing with the constant stream of jealous and scathing snide comments she would sometimes receive from others when they thought she wasn’t listening. 

“You are quite correct in that assumption, Awase-san.”

Kodai shot her friend a warning glance, but Awase paid her no heed. 

Instead a spark of what looked to be excitement had ignited in his gray eyes, and he stopped readjusting the zig-zag patterned headband over his forehead for the tenth time within a minute. 

A nervous tick? She couldn’t help but wonder.

“That’s so cool!” he exclaimed, “Both of my parents work for one of your subsidiaries, the Yaoyorozu Shipbuilding & Iron Works , in the Niigata Prefecture. Your company really gave my hometown a much needed boost after the coal mines had shut down production almost a decade ago.”

Oh.

Momo blinked, surprised by the admission. As the future successor of her parents’ enormous enterprise, she had personally made sure to know each and every single of the companies that made up the Yaoyorozu conglomerate. 

She knew of the one Awase was talking about. 

A business opportunity that her father oversaw as another place to potentially expand his ever-growing empire. The coal mines there had been one of the main sources for Japan’s fuel for decades until a terrible mining accident, that may or may not have been quirk related, had occurred, killing over a dozen of miners that had been working underground at the time of the terrible incident.

Since then, the mines had been cordoned off due to safety issues which had resulted in a dramatic decline in the surrounding areas that had relied heavily on it for employment. 

To hear that her family has helped bring back a part of a neighborhood into its former glory was refreshing to know, and her once strained smile grew into something a little more completely genuine as she regarded Awase in a new light. Sure, he might be a little rough around the edges, but he had a good heart it seemed. 

And something Momo, herself, greatly appreciated in a hero.

“Would you mind telling me more about your parents’ work?” she asked, taking the seat next to him, making sure to tuck her legs primly beneath her long dress. “I haven’t been to Niigata Prefecture in some time, and I would love to learn what it has to offer.”

Awase was all the happier to chat with her, while his friend, Kodai, silently listened to their conversation with a slight smirk on her face that she specifically aimed only at her male companion. 

They talked well until Midoriya and the rest of his friends arrived thirty minutes later, and for once in quite sometime in her life, Momo didn’t mind rambling on about her time exploring the rural outskirts of Japan to a captivated audience.

She found herself smiling a little at that.

Hatsume Mei knew she was incredibly late.

It was a bad habit of hers, right alongside not bathing for days on end and substituting a healthy sleep schedule and proper nutrition for working on one of her numerous ‘Super Cute Babies.’

Her parents, both brainiacs, caffeine addicted, lovable fathers, had also understood her need to follow the beat of her own drums. Gently reminding her from time to time when she had to interact with reality and be a proper human being once again. 

Mei always knew she was a little different from the rest of her peers. 

From the ripe young age of four years old, she was already set in her dreams of becoming the world's best renowned inventor, creating groundbreaking inventions and support items for Pro Heroes everywhere to use in combat or rescue operations. 

So, set in her ways that she was, that Mei had even tried her hands on creating some blueprints of her own one day in Kindergarten. Taking all the blue crayons and markers from the art supply drawer for herself and scribbling her messily written notes and crude drawings onto a whole package sheet of copy printer paper in one go. 

Her fathers have been so proud of her, of course (after reminding her once again that “ Sharing is caring, Mei-Chan” ), and had even pinned up some of those childishly drawn blueprints onto their refrigerator with magnets of the entire solar system as one her dads was also an amateur space junkie. 

Over the years, they had been slowly replaced with other items from her childhood; pictures of herself winning her first local science fair at her school and dozens more since then, vacations out to I-island and other inspirational science conventions with her fathers, actual blueprints and patents she had submitted under her own name to mass produce when she eventually started her own start-up company sometime in the distant future. 

Even now, Mei was still beating to the tune of her own drums as she crossed the busy streets of Roppongi, her yellowish green eyes activating by zooming in and out at all the pretty Christmas decorations that surrounded her down to its microscopic detail. 

Her quirk, Zoom, was an absolutely perfect thing to have as a future world-changing inventor. 

Able to significantly magnify her vision to see every single detail in her inventions, it allowed Mei the ability to perfect her work to an uncontrollable degree compared to her parents, who also both each had such wonderful quirks as well, Total Recall, and Small-Object Summoner, respectively.

She had been steadily improving her eyesight ever since it had first manifested on her third birthday, and so far she was able to see an impressive distance of 3.5 kilometers if she focused on one particular spot long enough. 

Her quirk still activated, her crosshair pupils dilated several times as she scanned for the restaurant she was supposed to meet her two friends. It took a couple of minutes, especially since she was currently blocking the busy sidewalk, but she paid no attention to the mutterings or glares she received from pedestrians around her. 

Eventually, she found the Hot Pot Shabu Shabu restaurant located ten blocks away from her standing position. An extra zoom revealed that a couple of people were already inside, two girls and Awase if the zig-zag patterned headband he wore like a comfort blanket was any indication. 

Not that she was any different.

Hatsume Mei never left home without her signature golden steampunk goggles. 

Reaching down to her shoes, she pressed a button on the side of one of the soles, activating a hidden mechanism that brought a pair of rollerblades out from underneath for each of her feet. 

Nicknamed ‘The Meelys’ (named after the once popular Australian Pre-Quirk Heelys brand), it currently operated on three modes of speed: fast, extremely fast, and, her personal favorite but highly subjected to malfunctioning at a moment’s notice, super sonic. 

For now, she settled on fast, cruising at a calming speed of 15 mph as she nimbly weaved her way around the crowd and slushes of snow and frozen puddles. A few people were shouting at her for nearly bumping into them, but Mei simply waved her hand in glee, happily watching the world around her blur into fuzzy colored shapes and sounds. 

Her mind worked like that a little it seemed.

Too fast for the normal person to even process. One thought suddenly became twelve, and she would jump from one topic to the next without catching her breath, easily running circles around people’s boringly drab conversations.

It was why she got so well along with Midoriya Izuku ( Mr. Billion as she liked to call him since he proclaimed he would help her earn her first billion by the time she reached her twenties) and Awase Yosetsu (or Headband due to all the unique patterned headbands he would wear for school each day).

Both of them had been one of the few people she could confidently say matched the tempo of her own drum other than her parents. 

And smart enough to rival her own genius. 

Headband was super nifty with his own quirk, able to combine two completely different items together to join as one like some super magical alchemist from one of her favorite animes. 

He was always there to lend a hand when it came to working on her Babies, and his rough and straight to the point mannerism was a balm to the sickly sweet faux politeness Mei would receive from her peers and teachers.

Like she was some hyperreactive chemical reagent that needed to be safely handled with extra care, and quarantined for everyone’s safety. 

Mr. Billion, on the other hand, was not only a genius, but he was incredibly resourceful and had a serious wealth of endless knowledge that far surpassed even her fathers’ impressive own. Her inventions had taken a significant increase in productivity once it no longer consistently exploded in her face as often as it used to thanks to his mild suggestions. 

Time and time again, he would share potential blueprints with her and Headband during their lunch period or indulged in her late night ramblings whenever she had a spark of inspiration and sleep was the last thing on her mind. 

At first, when she had met Mr. Billion, Mei had been a little wee bit jealous of how easily he had made friends with everyone in their class as well as managed to woo their professors with all his wacky inventions. His quirkless status was rarely, if ever, brought up into conversations, only being mentioned in passing when people outside their classroom or private school, Ando School for Technology and Robotics , were curious to learn more about the green haired teen that seemed hellbent on taking the world of Technology and Engineering by its horns. 

But the feeling quickly subsided like oil slick on her fingertips after fixing up one of her father’s beat up Volkswagen, when it was revealed that Mr. Billion had no interest in being anything but a hero. 

The inventions that he made were all for the sake of being on the same level as the rest of the Pro Heroes with their fancy special quirks. 

It meant that she had found a suitable business partner to consider for the future, and even went as far as to ask Mr. Billion to marry her (for tax purposes, of course!), though he had declined with a friendly smile, promising to only do so if they both haven’t found somebody else to marry by the time they turned thirty. 

Unsurprisingly enough, love was not something that Mei greatly understood (or really cared about, honestly), though she could tell that her fathers loved each other very much, it was a different sort of love compared to the feeling she would get whenever one of her Babies worked perfectly without blowing up once in her face. 

Oh well. Future Mei could deal with that.

Mei’s lips curled into a wide grin as she zipped and zoomed around the normal folks who couldn’t quite realize that they were in the midst of a soon to be tech legend. 

Hatsume Mei planned on showing everyone what she was capable of.

The worst part about having a tail was how it somehow was able to telegraph your every emotion without you realizing it. 

Mashiro Ojiro knew that his tail was twitching, indicating that he was nervous about the upcoming dinner party he had been graciously invited to by his best friend, Midoriya Izuku. 

Normally, such a thing would not have bothered him in the first place. He was used to having such social events with Midoriya (or Izuku, as the green haired teen had insisted he should be called), and though Mashiro wasn’t the most sociable person, he greatly enjoyed his time around the other boy since rescuing him from a group of thugs near Dagobah Beach almost two years ago.

This time, it would be different.

More people were apparently invited; two classmates from Izuku’s private school in the outskirts of Japan, and another person from his summer MENSA program. One of those classmates was also planning on bringing another friend of theirs, which meant that Mashiro had to entertain at least five people beside Izuku.

Hopefully his painfully boring attitude wouldn’t deter them from speaking to him.

Glancing up at the screen above, Mashiro noted that he was only a few stops away from his destination to Roppongi. Not a district he would typically visit on a normal day, especially knowing that it was a haven for rowdy foreigners and seedy illicit businesses, but the restaurant Izuku had picked out for them was located somewhere in the area. 

It was a Hot Pot restaurant that specializes in Shabu Shabu from what the two had discussed last week over the phone, and perfect for a cold Winter afternoon such as today. 

Pulling his thick green fur lined parka over his body some more, Mashiro tucked his hands into the warmth of its pockets, idly watching the passengers around him. Usually he would prefer standing to sitting, not wanting to encumber people with his giant tail, but his nervousness was getting the better of him, and it would be better for himself and everyone else in the train cart if he remained seated. 

Japan valued conformity, so it wasn’t any surprise that the majority of the passengers were quiet like himself, paying attention only to what was on their phones or tablets. The few that were talking were obviously clearly foreigners who was still learning the various customs of Japan’s tradition or local riffraff who already gave no fucks about society. 

Something, Mashiro secretly wished he could do for himself personally.

The doors opened at the next station and a trickle of passengers entered, scurrying to find an empty seat to nab before someone else got to it first. A tired elderly woman carrying what looked to be way too many grocery bags for one person, let alone for someone as frail as herself, entered last, wearily looking around for a place to sit. 

There was one next to Mashiro, as unfortunately his tail was large enough to warrant an extra seat for itself, but when the woman had spotted it, her thin lips puckered, dark green eyes narrowing in disgust at the sight of his mostly hairless tail curled up on the seat next to it. 

Flinching in response to the dark reaction he had just received, Mashiro bent his head down, focusing his attention on the scruff of his pale blue sneakers. With his eyes shut closed, he went through the familiar motion of deep breathing exercise that his sensei, Master Yū, had taught him many years ago in her Dojo out in Musutafu. 

It wasn’t the first time somebody had responded to his quirk like that. 

His tail was noticeable in a way that drew eyes onto him wherever he went, most of the time in disdain or worry in the few cases he had gathered up the courage to enter a store with valuable fragile goods to buy his mother a present. It wasn’t even a pretty tail, all things considered like her own; it was pale, wrinkly and only had a small turf of blond hair at the end of it that he religiously combed each night before bed. 

Someone from his class had even had the nerve to compare it to a Sphinx: a furless cat that few people consider cute.

The woman eventually found a seat far from him, near the end of the train cart and Mashiro breathed a sigh of relief that he no longer had to deal with that look of disdain. 

He also wasn’t the only one people were avoiding sitting next to. 

A person with the upper body of a hippo had taken the middle bench for herself and had evidently ended up with a wide berth of four empty seats on either side of her, while passengers crowded around the exit doors and away from her.

Those who were interested in grabbing a seat, either ended up choosing to stand in the aisle or take their chances elsewhere to another cart after noticing her, much to the hippo girl’s growing discomfort. Mashiro had even heard a few of them mutter about her apparent size within close proximity as they passed him by.

The world could be such a cruel place. 

He was just like anyone else, and yet because of his unique animalistic appendage, he was treated like he was some sort of mutant freak when quirks have long been a thing for centuries. 

It was why Mashiro was so happy to meet Izuku. 

He cared very little for Mashiro’s tail save to only tell him how awesome he thought it was or how much Izuku enjoyed cuddling it on a particularly bad day after school for either of them. 

For the latter, Mashiro didn’t have it in him to discourage his friend from touching the furry end of his tail, as it was an embarrassingly obvious erogenous part of his anatomy, and made his stomach flutter with every gentle caress Izuku laid on to it. 

Mashiro always knew he liked guys, but he wasn’t sure, despite how flirtatious his friend could be towards anything that had a living pulse, if Izuku actually swung that way.

His phone beeped within the pockets of his jeans, and Mashiro pulled it out, resisting the urge to smile at the message that appeared briefly on his screen. 

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear…

Izuku had just notified him that he was waiting at the Roppongi train station, waiting by the famous spider sculpture placed in front of Roppongi Hill.

                                                 Izuku :3

Izuku: Platypus, I’m here!!

[Jpeg of a well-dressed Izuku doing a peace sign in front of the spider sculpture.]

It’s gonna get me if you don’t hurry up!

Me: How did you get there so fast?

Especially since I live in Tokyo…..

But I’m three stops away

Mashiro paused briefly in his typing. 

He does wonder how his friend had managed to arrive there so quickly. 

Mashiro knew Izuku was dabbling in creating innovative technology that would greatly enhance his skills as a potential Pro Hero, but surely his best friend knew that it was skirting between the legal limits of what he was allowed to do without a quirk when it came to using those items publicly.

Right?

                                                         Izuku :3

Me: Anyway that spider wouldn’t touch you since you probably taste bad

:P 

Izuku: How rude

I have you know that I can be VERY delicious

Like a peanut butter & jelly sandwich but with extra peanut butter

And less jelly

Actually, scratch that 

I am delicious as a peanut butter sandwich

Mashiro rolled up his eyes, and stifled his growing snort before it became apparent to the rest of the passengers in the train cart.

                                                             Izuku :3

Me: Sure, Izu XD

My stop is here

The semi familiar cheery jingle of the train’s arrival to the Roppongi station blared out through the speakers, and Mashiro gathered up his things, the only thing he had brought along with him for the trip was a small carryon that he slung along his broad shoulders. 

He had been making a point to bulk up in preparation for the Yueei Hero Entrance Exam two years from now, and Mashiro had been noticing a substantial difference in his body. He felt stronger, energetic, and in a little way, a bit more confident in himself compared to how he was in the past. 

Even some of his classmates at his school, Ryloth Junior High , had noticed, with the male students who normally wouldn’t have given Mashiro the time of day, were now asking for tips on diets and building more mass in their muscles. 

Aichi, one of the hottest and most popular students in the whole Junior High, who Mashiro had a tiny crush on because the boy had a majestic mane as part of his lion quirk, was even taking a sort of interest in him. 

His large tail wagged happily at that.

Oh well. 

Something for an older Mashiro to reflect on in the future.

The doors finally opened, letting in a wave of new passengers. Mashiro took the time to let the people come in first, his chivalrous attitude taking precedence above his own need to exit the train in a rush. Once everyone had entered, he took one last look back at the poor hippo girl who was still surrounded by empty seats, and slowly raised his forearm in a show of solidarity, a gentle smile on his face before stepping out through the doors.

She made eye contact with him, a bit startled at being noticed by someone that wasn’t giving her the stink eye before realizing that it was from a fellow heteromorph. Offering him a tiny but hesitant smile herself, the hippo girl nodded back at him in return. 

It wasn’t much, Mashiro knew that, it wasn’t ever going to be enough, but it was still certainly something . 

And he was ready to keep on fighting.

Awase Yosetsu had never spoken as much as he did before today’s dinner event.

It was easy to get lost in the crowd, living as the youngest of four older brothers and two parents that swore like sailors and could probably out drink one too if challenged. Words weren’t necessary for someone like Yosetsu as by the time he opened his mouth, everyone else had already said what was on their mind, leaving him with very little to contribute in the end. 

So, he settled for silence. 

Only speaking when it was absolutely necessary and keeping it short and sweet. It had earned him a bit of a reputation in his private Junior High, Adno’s School for Technology and Robotics , as a blunt speaker, which was all fine and dandy for him as it meant less people bothering him for unnecessary stuff. 

It also had the additional caveat that whenever he did speak, people would usually shut up and listen.

Today was completely different though. 

Today, Yosetsu spoke more words than he averagely did in an entire week, keeping up a conversation without resorting to simple grunts or a swear word or two to keep things from getting too serious or weird. 

And it was all thanks to the person sitting next to him.

Yaoyorozu Momo, was the most gorgeous girl Yosetsu had ever seen (and he’s best friends with Kodai Yu. Another absolute bombshell of a girl). Incredibly smart, witty, and so well-mannered, she was like a polished jade dragon statue unearthed centuries later in a tomb of a once forgotten emperor, still perfectly intact, and museum ready. 

She radiated confidence with her amazing looks, a true beauty and brain if Yosetsu was to believe. Her shimmering onyx gray eyes had captured his attention the entire night, the two remaining close even when it came time for seating arrangements, the waiter not wanting to disrupt whatever cadence was going on between the two of them.

Midoriya, or better known as Izuku as he insisted his friends should call him, only threw a matching smirk with Kodai as the pair took the seats across from him and Yaoyorozu.

A blond boy with a giant tail who had introduced himself as Ojiro took the seat on the right of Izuku while Hatsume, or Mei Mei as Yosetsu liked to call her at times, took the remaining seat beside Yaoyorozu, who was also very keen in learning more about the heiress of one of Japan’s most influential tech companies. 

Introduction made once they all got seated, the six of them had wasted no time in discussing how they each had come to know Midoriya with Ojiro having won the best story with his humble but brief description of how he had rescued Izuku from some villainous thugs.

Knowing that Yaoyorozu was part of the MENSA program Izuku had mentioned doing over the summer, wasn’t a complete surprise either. Based on how much she took her time to explain the history of Hot Pot as the meals were being served only further illustrated her studious nature. 

He was always done for some good grub, and the spicy Szechuan broth he used to dip his own meat and veggies had the perfect kick to it. 

“So, Yo-Yo ,” Izuku’s apparent favorite nickname for him, suddenly said during a brief lull in conversation, “this is the first time I’ve seen you not glued to your phone.” A quick waggle of his thick green brows suggested that he knew all too well the reason why. 

Beside him, Kodai let out a short hum of agreement as she took a delicate sip of her own miso broth.

The traitor. 

She didn’t even know Izuku at all before this dinner and it was like they were on the same wavelength when it came to discerning his bullshit.

Scowling at the both of them for the audacity of calling him out, Yosetsu grumbled into his bowl of rice, stabbing at it with his chopsticks with intense frequency. 

He so badly wanted to curse them out, but after reminding himself of the horrified reaction Yaoyorozu had given to him for his complete slip up, Yosetsu figured it wasn’t worth damaging his already terrible first impression with the raven haired heiress.

“Oh?” 

Yaoyorozu gently placed her own pair of chopsticks down onto its proper surface location. “Do you use any particular apps? I’m partial to anything that helps boost my brain activity such as Lumosity or Memorado .” 

As an engineering student, Yosetsu was already quite familiar with such apps, mindlessly playing with them when he wasn’t feeling for his usual fan-service mobile games like Azur Lane or Nikke. 

“Yeah, I play those too!” he answered with a sharp grin, then paused briefly to smooth the rough corners into something far more pleasant. No need to scare her anymore than before. “But most of the time I’m addicted to gacha games. There’s just something about rolling for your favorite characters that gets the heart fucking pumped!”

Internally, Yosetsu cringed. He had cursed. 

Again.

Thankfully, the amazing Goddess that she was, Yaoyorozu ignored it in favor of asking him more questions about said gacha games, never having tried them herself.

“I feel so basic,” Ojiro chimed in, looking a little sheepish, “I only play Sudoku or Wordle if I’m on my phone.”

He had been relatively quiet during the whole dinner conversation, only contributing here and there when asked, but Yosetsu had already liked him well enough; anybody who managed to get Izuku to blush was a bro in his eyes. 

The fact that the tail boy also had muscles for days was already a side bonus.

“Wordle is a guilty pleasure of mine,” Yaoyorozu confessed, a light dusting of red appearing over her cheeks. It was honestly so fucking adorable how bashful she seemed to admit something so innocuous. “Have you tried the competition?” she continued, shifting her attention onto Ojiro. “You get paired up with people randomly online and compete to see who could solve a series of Wordle puzzles under a time limit. I’m currently at a 101 winning streak myself.”

Yosetsu had a feeling she wasn’t bragging nor lording over her impressive score in an effort to make Ojiro feel bad about himself, and it seemed the tail boy managed to catch onto the fact as well, aiming a small but friendly smile at the heiress.

“I’m not sure I would be that good.” Ojiro’s tail twitched from behind his seat. Meanwhile, Izuku shot his friend with a concerned look, brows furrowing. “But I’ll give it a shot, I guess.”

“If you need any pointers, I would be more than happy to offer my service for you if needed,” Yaoyorozu said, onyx eyes gleaming bright with excitement. 

It seemed that she enjoyed the chance of helping anyone out regardless of their background, and Yosetsu wasn’t sure if it was even possible to fall in love with someone twice in one night.

Before he could open his mouth to maybe potentially invite himself to the impromptu tutoring session, those same gleaming beautiful onyx eyes suddenly turned onto him, and the whole world seemed to freeze as Yosetsu locked eyes with her. 

“You are more than welcome to join in as well, Yosetsu-san,” and the tiny polite honorific attached to his surname was enough to send figurative butterflies up into his esophagus.

She offered him a demure pretty smile that he took as a direct lifeline.

“Hell yeah!”

The rest of dinner flowed easily enough. Yosetsu was more than amazed at how much Yaoyorozu was able to pack into her petite mature body, even able to outeat him in terms of the amount of meat and rice she had consumed with her Hotpot. 

At first, it seemed as if she was slightly embarrassed at ordering more as everyone was content with their meals so far, but a quick glance at Izuku who gave her a subtle wink was enough to regain her confidence and flagged down a nearby waiter.

Something boiled in the pits of Yosetsu’s stomach as he watched their short interaction, unknowingly clenching his hands, the little sparks of his quirk nearly activating in response to his heightened emotions. He set his chopsticks down lest he fused with it right down to the atomic level by accident.

That would be fucking embarrassing.

Kodai, as always, noticed his discomfort right away, sending him a delicate  raise of her brow, her unique version of showing her discrete concern. 

He gave her a curt nod, then focused his attention back on his broth. 

Mei Mei was happily yapping away about her latest invention, which she had funnily enough nicknamed as the Meelys, and Yosetsu was more than happy to hear of anything that excited one of his friends.

Especially someone as unpredictable and lawfully chaotic as Mei Mei.

Izuku was a similar case; a good guy that Yosetsu could safely call as one of his best friends beside his brothers and Kodai. He was super fucking smart, knew how to give their professors the run-around when it came to answering their hard technical questions, and overall was someone Yosetsu secretly aspired to become one day. 

He was also a massive fucking playboy. 

Anything that so much as breathes would be subjected to Izuku’s relentless flirting, and by the first semester of their Junior year, had somehow amassed himself a sort of a fan club run by both female and male students.  

Even now, Yosetsu could see the faint blush and longing glances that Yaoyorozu would send Izuku’s way whenever the green haired boy spoke up in the lively conversation. Or the subtle yet painfully obvious handsome smirks he gave to Kodai whenever they so much as made eye contact.

If he really wanted to, Izuku could easily ask Yaoyorozu out on a date, and yet nothing so far has indicated that he was even romantically interested in her. 

Still the anger that simmered within him remained, and his fingers itched to grab his phone and drown himself in the latest Azur Lane campaign. 

Swallowing the rage down, Yosetsu promised himself to not let this come between him and Izuku. He had seen firsthand how a pretty girl had come between his three older brothers and Yosetsu knew it wasn’t an option he was willing to take. 

Oh well.

Maybe, someday, his future self would take the courage his current self does not have and ask Yaoyorozu out on a date. 

Till then…

Yosetsu’s dark gray eyes lingered on the smiling form of the raven haired beauty sitting beside him. It seemed that Izuku had said something funny that garnered a round of laughter from the rest of the occupants at the table. 

He could watch from afar.

Tony couldn’t stop staring.

He knew it was rude to do so, both his mother and now Inko had chided him whenever he did so for far too long than what was deemed acceptable on a pretty girl. 

In the world of quirks, it made sense in a way–practically everyone had some unique feature to their personality that made something as mundane as a green shade of hair color a sight to behold in his eyes.

Tonight, he found himself staring at the girl sitting next to him.

A petite teen with a slim body figure with dark cerulean eyes and dark ebony hair with the front fringe of it dyed a deep amber red. 

And wearing a necklace with a black widow spider pendant.

The moment they had locked eyes once Tony had entered the restaurant with Ojiro, a strange but pleasant tingling feeling had coursed through down his spine as forest green met stormy cerulean.

It was an… interesting thing to experience to say the least. 

And one that had left Tony with more questions than answers as the night went on.

The dinner had been a success. 

His friends and classmates had all gotten along swingingly and seemed to have also enjoyed the succulent meal as well. The owner of the restaurant, a duck heteromorph man that Tony had helped scare off a couple of would-be robbers during one of his… late night activities , had offered him a tremendous deal for the food in return for his rescue. 

Which was greatly appreciated as out of all of them, only Yaoyorozu, or Princess Peach as he affectionately called the raven haired heiress, was from a well enough background to afford the rather large bill that had been placed onto their table after the last meat had been consumed. 

He did his part, of course, to help pay for more than half, much to the rest of his friends’ apparent shock. It helped that he had been receiving some monetary payment for his services as a sort of fixer around his neighborhood, and had even sold some of Bean-sprout’s expansive All Might figure collection (with clear explicit permission, of course) as another source of income.

He had to. 

Private schools were no joke, and though Inko was nearing the end of her nursing school, it was still a lot of money that was constantly being sent to line the pockets of some stuffy bureaucratic Headmaster.

So, the times that he could afford to lavish his friends was something he insisted on doing on his own volition. 

Meal paid for, they all started gathering up their belongings and heading out to the small waiting room. A light snowfall had begun sometime in the interim of their dinner and the streets were covered with a fine dusting of white powder. 

“ Imagine ,” the crosshair pupils in Hatsume’s eyes were working overtime as she spread her arms quite wide, nearly hitting Tony in the process, “if people can shoot miniature flames out from their shoes to keep themselves safe from all that icy slush?”

A tiny bead of sweat appeared over Ojiro’s forehead as he put his parka on. 

“Wouldn’t that be dangerous?” he commented in a nervous pitch.

“Not to mention highly impractical,” Yaoyorozu added, buttoning up her long fur coat. Awase was standing nearby wanting to be chivalrous and hold onto her Chanel purse as they waited for everyone to get ready. Tony chuckled to himself, fully understanding why the headband loving teen had done so. “Wet snow is just as dangerous as hard snow. Fall accidents are on the rise this time of the year.”

To her credit, Hatsume didn’t look too displeased at being told a convincing argument against her product, which was loads better than how she used to react at the start of the school, which involved a lot of embellish bluffing and haughty dismissive laughter.

She still had a problem with personal space though as she moved in way too close for comfort at Yaoyorozu who only blinked back in surprise at the diminutive pink dreads girl who was suddenly all up on her face.

“You’re absolutely right, Ms. Genius!” 

Looked like Hatsume had, once again, created a new nickname for someone that tickled her fancy. 

“The common denominator to all of this is snow.” 

Hatsume then took an actual couple of small steps back once Awase had gently reminded her to not intrude into someone’s personal bubble, and continued onwards, exuberant glee coating every word from her mouth as she gestured wildly with her arms. 

“So the solution is simple. No snow! And that can be done by creating a remotely controlled nanobot dome sphere around the greater parts of Tokyo. The moment the meteorologists get even a whiff of a change in temperature, out pops this baby which will prevent snow from falling onto the city streets in the first place!”

Surprisingly, Yaoyorozu looked intrigued. 

“A weather-modification system, you mean?” 

The raven haired heiress placed a dainty hand onto her cheek, tilting her head in contemplation as she seemed to consider Hatsume’s words.

“I’ve seen some proof of concept work done in remote parts of the world, such as in the Sahara desert in North Africa to help with agriculture for nomadic tribes relying on herds for food.” 

She clasped her hands in delight, a hint of a sparkle within her onyx eyes . 

“Having to create one for at least the popular districts in Tokyo would be ideal. Though the logistics to even conceive the blueprints would require an intensive look at the geographic layout of Tokyo.”

Somehow, Bubblegum, or better known as Hatsume Mei’s manic smile grew ten times wider.

“I think you also have to take into account of people whose quirks are also affected by the weather.”

Ojiro had finally joined in once more again into the conversation after silently watching the two girls converse, his tail slowly swishing behind his feet.

Tony had been immensely proud of how much his best friend had interacted with the rest of the small group, something that he knew had often plagued the blond tailed boy at the best of times.

Suddenly realizing all the attention abruptly placed upon him, Ojiro coughed lightly into his fist, looking sharply away toward the windows. 

“I mean, some of my neighbors are heteromorphs. In fact, my next door neighbor has a polar bear mutation and his quirk works well when it's snowing.”

Hatsume zipped up close to him, only allowing a few short inches of space between the two of them. She peered up at Ojiro, cocking her head this way and that as if silently assessing his statement. It was Hatsume’s trademark way of understanding the world around her: by literally zooming onto the tiny miniscule details before seeing the full picture.

His best friend sent Tony a glance for help, to which Tony simply winked back at him in response.

She must have reached a conclusion as Hatsume only nodded her head once. 

“You’re more than right about that, Muscles,” and Ojiro let out a tiny audible squeak of surprise at the new nickname that he had not been obviously expecting from someone he had barely known. “What sort of inventor would I be if I don’t account for everyone in the whole entire world?”

That had led to a whole discussion as the six of them traversed the snowy white streets of Roppongi. 

The streetlights, sparkling silver, red and green in celebration of Christmas (despite only a small percentage of the Japanese population actually aligning themselves with Christianity) created a sort of cheerfully jovial ambience, the festive mood getting everyone pumped up for the holiday.

Unsurprisingly, Hatsume had forgotten to wear any essential winter articles like gloves and an earmuff to combat the blistering cold weather, and Yaoyorozu had graciously used her Creation quirk to make some for her. 

Tony knew exactly the point at which Hatsume had fallen for the raven haired heiress, disregarding personal space once again as she linked hands with her, causing Yaoyorozu to blush prettily at such an intimate action.

Meanwhile, Awase stared at them both with his jaw hung wide open.

“You are absolutely perfect, Ms. Genius,” she gleamed, getting incredibly up close and personal into Yaoyorozu’s face, “Are you single by any chance?”

To say that the raven haired heiress was a bubbling rosy mess would be a complete understatement.

Eventually they reached the specialty cream puff located in Roppongi Hills that was suggested by Yaoyorozu. The stylish pristine white and pastel blue of the Cream de la Cream , was chocked full of delicious warm pastries and goodies that smelled positively heavenly the moment they all stepped inside.

They immediately broke up into pairs, with Hatsume dragging a bewildered Ojiro to a nearby table to discuss the potential “Babies” that she could develop for his tail quirk, while Yaoyorozu led Awase to peruse the stocked shelves with her and buy some treats to share with the whole group.

That had left Tony with Kodai.

The two took their sweet time wandering around the small store, mindlessly eyeing the rich decor and tasty pastries that were currently being offered for today’s customers. They soon stopped by a cabinet specifically selling miniature ornaments of their best selling cream puffs for the Christmas holiday, and Kodai lingered by the shelves, her quiet gaze set on a dark red velvet one. 

“A favorite?” Tony asked.

Kodai shrugged her shoulders, her face a picture perfect porcelain mask of calm indifference as she step sided away from the cabinet to give him some space.

Out of all the people who had been invited for the dinner party, Kodai had spoken the least, opting to state her opinions with little hums or a quirk of her well manicured brows that Awase managed to decipher for everyone else to understand. 

Normally, such a thing wouldn’t bother Tony.

After all, it wasn’t like he hadn’t spent the better part of a whole week in the terrifying depths of deep outer space with a blue skinned woman who had more metal fiber in her entire body than bones, and averaged around a total of twenty words on a good day. 

Still, it was somewhat different from Nebula’s stubbornly taciturn demeanor. 

There was a sort of quietness in the way Kodai Yui wore around her petite demure body like a priceless Persian silk scarf that bore quite the strong resemblance to someone else whose motto was all about stealth and absolute secrecy.

And Tony couldn’t properly explain why he knew that.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Stormy cerulean eyes met his, and Tony blinked, realizing belatedly that he had been staring at her once again, and got caught like a chubby kid with their hands stuck in the cookie jar.

A twinkle of amusement bled into Kodai’s normally stoic expression. 

Somehow, without any direct confirmation, Tony had a feeling that she already knew that he had been staring at her all this time and only had now just decided to bring it up out of the blue.

But why?

“I…”

Tony then cleared his throat.

“Mind if I tell you a funny story?”

Kodai cocked her head for a sliver of a fraction, her expression remaining impassive save for the slightest quirk of her brows that indicated to Tony that she was interested in hearing it. 

“Well…” 

He leaned his arm to casually rest on the edge of the cabinet, careful not to jar any of the sparkly (and probably pricey) ornaments off their shelves. 

“I sometimes dream of things that have happened in another world after a late night of binging Netflix. The person I am in this dream is quite the roguishly handsome man, a genius, a bit of a playboy and a massive flirt but is super loyal to his wife, and wealthy beyond any imagination.”

As he expected, Kodai showed no visible response to this lavish description of himself. 

Rude.

“And one day this roguishly handsome man had to make a tough decision. Should he sacrifice himself to save all of humanity knowing that it would kill him in the process, or should he stay at home in his log cabin with his wife and daughter, never daring to go beyond the realm of impossibility and dooming the rest of the universe to the ramblings of a mad tyrant?”

Kodai only blinked once.

“Mmh,” was all she said.

This was not going as how he had expected it to go.

Licking the bottom of his lips nervously, Tony threw all caution to the wind. If Kodai Yui wasn’t who he thought she was, then he could simply laugh it all off as part of an elaborate joke.

But if she was…

“And you know what’s the funniest part?” 

Kodai remained silent.

“I woke up and I still feel like I am that person.”

He waited. Carefully watching even the most miniscule of actions from her. Secretly, he prayed to all the deities that existed in the universe, and even to the ones from his previous universe that his words had met its destination.

After what felt like an eternity, Kodai finally responded with a simple twitch of her upper lips, the closest to a smile he had seen from her all night.

Kodai turned away, the red fringe of her dyed hair casting a dark shadow below her pale eyelids. Beneath it, her stormy cerulean eyes stared at nothing in particular, almost seemingly lost in thought, and Tony held his breath.

She hummed. A light, pleasantly soft tune.

“That is funny.”

The world stilled as those same cerulean eyes turned their ethereal hold onto him again, threatening to drown him in the depths of its deep murky sea. 

Tony slowly blinked, disbelief spreading rapidly across his face. 

Like a curtain unveiling the hidden world beyond its windowpane, a tiny sliver of emotion had appeared in Kodai Yui’s normally stoic facial expression; a dash of pure amusement, a sprinkle of devious mischief. 

And a teaspoon of honest to goodness relief.

“Nice to see you too.” 

She paused, deliberately and with purposeful meaning as her lips twitched upwards once again. A real smile blossomed  across her face like sunflowers in a long forgotten dilapidated graveyard. 

A rare and most wondrous sight if he had ever seen one.

“Tony .”

His eyes had widened immediately the moment he had heard her voice, tears gathering up at the corners of each one. 

“Nat…”

He wasn’t alone anymore. 

Chapter Text

Taneo Tokuda was in dire need of a cigarette.

Unfortunately for him, he had given up smoking a long time ago after one too many dizzy spells had left him sitting in the emergency room. His doctor had told him that he had severely damaged his lungs, with a high risk of developing COPD, or better known as emphysema in some cases. 

Modern medicine had enabled him to survive the surgery to repair them back to complete normality, and a minor healing quirk did the rest, leaving only light thin scars across his chest.

Since then, Taneo had vowed to never smoke again, and satisfied his oral fixation with strong peppermint scented chewing gum.

Chewing on a few sticks at once, he wandered the familiar streets of downtown Musutafu, enjoying the warm weather provided by the morning sun. It was early enough that most people were still sleeping, and only local sanitary workers were busy sweeping the sidewalks of any debris. 

A robbery occurred yesterday at a nearby J-Mart, and while most of the obstructions had been cleared and removed by the Disposal and Waste department of the Hero Public Safety Commission, or HPSC for short, there was still a lingering smell of citrus that permeated the air.

Apparently, the suspect had a quirk that had required them to consume copious amounts of oranges to work. 

It was a far cry from the pungent scent of rotten fish Taneo had to endure down in Chiba last week, after doing an intensive report on a pair of walrus heteromorphs that had been caught doing illegal trafficking of endangered fish and marine life by the local authorities. 

He had ended up having to wash his clothes three times in the washing machine before the smell had finally vanished, though, sometimes on a bad day he could catch a small whiff of fish every now and then.

Grabbing some hot dark roast coffee from the nearest vending machine, Taneo continued on his aimless journey to nowhere in particular. He had already submitted his final edits to the editor-in-chief of the Juzo Magazine, his current occupation of work. 

As a highly in demand freelance journalist, he has full autonomy on writing whatever captures his interest, having gotten exclusive interviews with high-ranking Pro Heroes and celebrities due to his lucrative status as one of the more professional and savvy reporters to talk to.

It also helped that his good looks opened more than just doors.

Eventually his feet took him to the one place long since forgotten in his hazy smoky memories of Summer that consisted of chocolate covered sundaes and scraped wet knees. The Takoba Municipal Beach Park, or better known colloquially as Dagobah Beach by the locals, was a site Taneo would often visit during his younger adolescent years with his father.

Such trips were the highlight of his childhood, the sweet chocolatey sundae that they ate together by the pier as the sun set in a blaze of orangey red still lingered on the very tip of Taneo’s tongue as he slowly licked his lips.

A terrible tsunami more than a decade ago had left the whole place a mess with scattered half decaying debris and over the years, it became known as a glorified dumping site that police officers would look away if paid off well enough. 

The decrypt site had since attracted a myriad of shady looking characters and equally shady events to its lair, with emergency responders often being called in to deal with cases involving domestic violence, battery, or in some serious cases, homicides.

While most of the dead bodies had happened to be either an unlucky gangster who had met an unfortunate end by a rival gang member or a homeless junkie that had unfortunately overdose on illicit dangerous drugs, once in a blue moon, a John or Jane Doe would be found half buried and forgotten, rotting away in all that rubble and sand.

The last that had been discovered before All Might and his Symbol of Peace era had decreased crime activity to an all-time low in Japan, had been a high school student that had been stabbed by her college age boyfriend and left for dead on the beach. 

Taneko had remembered that particular case since he had been the one to personally report first before even the local news had really known about it.

It was a sad case. Not only because the victim had suffered immensely for a prolonged period of time without anyone willing to contact the police for fear of revealing their own bad behavior and getting arrested for it but said victim apparently had big aspirations for becoming a hero herself and now would never do because of some guy who couldn’t handle his liquor. 

Today, compared to his last visit, the beach was bustling with life, as what seemed to be Middle School aged kids were removing debris up the stairs and into proper disposal containers in a neat orderly fashion. 

Blinking slowly in surprise, Taneo watched as a pair of kids, one with black hair and shark teeth and the other with pink skin and tiny yellow horns used their quirks in combination to reduce a large stainless-steel refrigerator into a pile of melted down metal. 

Another pair of kids, one with a large hairless tail and the other with spiky black hair covered by a zig-zag patterned headband carried pieces larger than the entire length of their torso with relative ease up the stairs and into what seemed to be a makeshift dumping site where two girls, one with hair dark hair tied up into a spiky ponytail and the other with straight light baby blue hair and glasses took turns carefully assorting through the pile before placing them into their respective disposal bins.

Taneo was intrigued.

“So, tell me again how you got involved in this clean up initiative?”

Taneo had arrived back at the Dagobah Beach a few days later after observing the rather bizarre scene of kids cleaning up all the junk and debris off from its sandy shores. 

The person that he was currently interviewing, a young blond teen with periwinkle blue eyes who proudly introduced himself as Monoma Neito. A boy with lofty claims on becoming a future Pro Hero much to Taneo’s amusement as the kid barely reached his chest and probably weighed a good 90 pounds wet. 

Smirking, Monoma placed a hand over his chest in a dramatical fashion, posing as if he had been asked by a photographer to pretend he was advertising an expensive cologne product.

“Of course,” he answered in a haughty tone of voice befitting his equally haughty expression. 

Standing close by, a young girl with orange hair tied into a side ponytail that Taneo presumed was Monoma’s friend rolled her eyes up at the display. 

“This clean up initiative that you asked about, is called “The Younglings Dagobah Clean Up Crew” or as I like to call it “The Younglings Dagobah Crew.”” 

Taneo scribbled it all down onto a blank notepad. At least that explained the green and yellow bandana with the letter D on it that all the kids were currently sporting around their foreheads.

“I joined in after reading about it all online on the HeroForAll forum–” Taneo knew all about the popular website that catered to hero enthusiasts everywhere in Japan, “–and had decided it would be a good investment for someone such as myself who is planning on getting into the hero course at Yueei High.”

Taneo raised a brow.

“Are you planning on taking the Hero Entrance Exam then?”

If possible, the smirk on Monoma’s face grew even wider.

“Ah, but of course, my dear good man!” the blond teen spread his arms apart. From nearby, his red-haired friend facepalmed herself in embarrassment. “My quirk, Copy, is just simply too perfect for heroism and to deny the world of such excellency would be most shameful. Thus, it was imperative for me that I join this initiative and do some good to the community here at Dagobah.”

Taneo scribbled some more. 

“I see…”

A noble cause, if veering a bit too closely to self-narcissism, but it wasn’t something totally unexpected in today’s hero obsessed society. 

“One more thing.”

Taneo met the periwinkle blue eyes of Monoma and briefly imagined himself in the blond middle schooler’s place, eager to show the world what he was capable of and how resourceful his quirk, Whole-Body Lens, could be for heroism. 

“Can you tell me more about the person who had started this initiative?”

“For the record, please state your name and current occupation.”

After his (rather) lengthy and long chat with Monoma Neito, Taneo had then turned his attention to the next person in the Dagobah Clean Up Crew, a young orange haired girl who was present throughout the entirety of Monoma’s interview.

“Ah!” 

The young girl blinked, running a hand through the unruly thick locks of her side ponytail. A nervous tick, Taneo deduced correctly to himself after spending years analyzing people’s miniscule facial expressions as a journalist.

“Sure thing.”

She then took a deep breath, and began speaking once more again, her voice even and measured with a little sprinkle of nervousness mixed in. Interestingly enough, Monoma remained by his friend’s side after giving his own frivolous interview, giving her an encouraging pat on the back.

“My name is Kendo Itsuka,” the girl said, “I’m currently a student at Chiba City Soga Junior High.”

Taneo wrote down the information on another blank sheet of paper from his notepad.

“Great. Can you then tell me how you came across The Younglings Dagobah Clean Up Crew.” 

Like Monoma, she had also come across the posting on the HeroForAll forum page due to the insistence of her blond friend and had decided to join in as well as she believed her quirk, Big Fist, could be of some benefit for the cause.

“I was a bit skeptical at first,” Kendo admitted, “especially since Neito has a tendency to over exaggerate on things that spark his interest.” 

She sides eyed said friend, and Monoma simply blew a deceptively charming kiss in return which Kendo responded back with an eye roll.

“But after meeting the person in charge of this initiative, I was immediately hooked. It’s been great meeting other kids who are also planning on taking the Hero Entrance Exam at Yueei High.”

“Aiming to be a hero as well?”

Kendo nodded, her posture straightening to her fullest height. She flexed the tendons of some of her fingers, looking down at them in an almost contemplatively-like manner. 

It was a sort of wizened expression that Taneo had rarely seen as a teenager.

“I’ve grown up with people who have dedicated their lives to helping others out. My parents own a Dojo that had been passed down through my mother’s side of the family, and there has never been a day that they haven’t spent not doing something for our community back at home. Whether it's through teaching basic martial arts moves to the local kids and women in my neighborhood or offering shelter to refugees and the homeless, my parents have taught me that even the smallest, good deeds could have a tremendous impact on a person’s livelihood.”

Her bright teal eyes met his own dark mismatched blue and white eyes with a ferocity that rivaled some of the more passionate politicians such as Hanabata Koku, a popular leader of the Hearts and Mind Party.

“That is why I want to become a hero.”

Slowly, Monoma clapped, a pleasant if not overly indulgent honest to goodness smile spreading far across his face as gestured to his friend.

“See?” 

His own periwinkle blue eyes twinkled in absolute delight.

“This cause is just more than for the good of the community, it brought a whole group of people together for one singular purpose.”

Taneo slowly raised both of his brows.

“And that is…?”

Here, both Kendo and Monoma shared a knowing look, exchanging something heavy and meaningful in the silence spread between them. They both turned back to Taneo, and it was Kendo who surprisingly answered the question for him.

“Our potential to change the world.”

Since his interview with Monoma and Kendo, Taneo had found himself visiting the Dagobah beach more frequently in between doing reports on various crimes throughout Japan and intensive Q&As with some highly profiled Pro Heroes. 

The aquarian lover Sea Rescue Hero: Selkie, also known as the faithful and adorable husband of one Gang Orca had been very appreciative when Taneo had visited his agency all the way up in Hokkaido to report on a potential drug bust of Trigger from no named Yakuza gang. Even went as far as to give him some special fancy cheesecake from LeTao for all trouble.

Taneo didn’t mind doing the whole trek.

He had a bit of a soft spot for mutants generally, having gotten to know many during his time at Musutafu University studying Journalism. Those that had joined his academic track were extremely dedicated to spreading the word on the discrimination of heteromorphs and lobbying for better opportunities that he could get behind.

Taneo had participated in more than one protest in his life.

His next batch of interviews at Dagobah beach had him meet a lively girl named Ashido Mina with striking alien features and a boisterous outgoing boy by the name of Kirishima Eijiro who were both happy to chat with him during their short break.

“It’s just so much fun!” Ashido said, beaming a bright smile at Taneo as she bounced on the toes of her feet. 

She had such an energetic personality, a bit of a rarity for someone so otherworldly like in the world of Quirks that made Taneo silently wonder to himself if she was simply trying to overcompensate her odd looks in a bid to make a great first impression. Unsurprisingly for those with striking Heteromorphic traits. 

“I’ve learned so much about my quirk that I never even knew about!”

That was another thing.

Besides helping out the Dagobah community by cleaning out the crowded junk from the beach, apparently one of the members of the cleanup crew, who was only known through their alias, YamiKumo, had been helping create training modules for those interested in pushing their Quirks to the next level. 

Apparently, they were very good at their job, which Ashido and a couple of others have insinuated during his conversation with them.

“Yeah!”

Kirishima punched a hardening fist into the palm of his other hand, creating a noticeable cracking sound like two boulders smashing together that echoed easily across the vast beach. 

“There’s nothing manlier than supporting your fellow men!”

Both kids had belonged to the same private school somewhere in the upper west side of Musutafu and had lofty aspirations to become Pro Heroes as well. For Kirishima, it was to honor the late Crimson Riot, an old school type hero that was popular among men and young boys in Taneo’s childhood. And as for Ashido, she had felt that her bubbly personality and unique ability to get along with pretty much anyone was more than enough to charm even the most hardened of villains. 

Strangely enough, Kirishima had sent his pink friend a worried glance when she mentioned that last part.

Interesting.

And of course, this mysterious Midoriya Izuku, the one who had initiated the whole cleanup program was nowhere to be seen.

“It is a fine pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tokuda!”

A relatively tall and muscular boy with short dark cobalt blue hair and a thick pair of square rimmed glasses was shaking Taneo’s hand with such energy that he was worried that it might come flying out of its socket if the teen didn’t stop soon enough. 

“I am Ida Tenya, the younger brother of the great Turbo Hero: Ingenium, and grandson of the supreme Engine Hero: Locomotion. Age 14 and from the Somei Private Academy.” 

Taneo knew of the Ida family. Anyone who was remotely interested in heroes would have known about their impressive work and admirable efforts in the earlier development of the hero industry.

No surprise that Ida had similarly lofty aspirations. 

The bespectacled teenager continued to boast about his family’s history before eventually transiting to his reasons as to why he had joined the Dagobah Clean Up Crew.

“A noble effort that I had found compelled to be a participant for by my friend, Midoriya Izuku, who I had personally become acquainted with at the National Japan Mensa Gifted Youth program last summer. A fine gentleman himself, who shows exemplary skills befitting a good leader and teacher.”

Taneo scribbled the information down, intrigued at the little tidbit that had implied that Midoriya Izuku had been a part of a highly gifted summer program for the youth. The MESNA were no joke and took their application seriously to the point that their selection was typically reserved for the elite and wealthy. 

To be even considered for such a coveted program with no notable background himself…

Well, Taneo wanted to meet this Midoriya Izuku quite soon enough.

A bespectacled girl joined them shortly afterwards, flanked by another girl with long straight periwinkle white hair and an extremely haughty expression that could give even Monoma Neito a run for his money.

The first girl had introduced herself as Sekigai Kashiko, an average plain face girl with wavy light baby blue hair and a calm, well-mannered demeanor that paired well with the straightforward and slightly intimidating persona of one Ida Tenya. Both her and the other girl, only given her surname as Intelli, were also part of the summer MENSA youth program and knew Midoriya Izuku intimately as well.

“I see.”

Taneo jotted down his notes.

“Are you all planning on doing the Entrance Hero Exam at Yueei High?”

Adjusting the rim of his glasses, Ida nodded sharply once after he exchanged a brief look with the other two girls.

“Well, I am, Mr. Tokuda,” he corrected and Taneo had to stop himself from blinking in confusion. As a professional, it was bad to react in such a way as to dissuade a guest from speaking their thoughts. “My brother, Ida Tenya, despite his many achievements, had not graduated from Yueei High nor did my grandparents. As the first in the Ida family to do so would be a great honor.”

With a slow shake of her own head, Sekigai answered next.

“And as for me, Yueei High isn’t the school where my parents earned their licenses, so I feel no strong compulsion to try the Hero Entrance Exam myself.”

Starting to fully understand what the kids were trying to say, Taneo turned his attention next to Intelli who only barely managed to refrain from rolling up her bluish-lavender eyes in an undignified manner unbefitting her high social class status.

“The uniform there is much too drab for my liking.”

Sekigai giggled, tossing a fond sort of expression at Intelli who had resolutely averted her gaze in the opposite direction at the last possible second but not before Taneo’s keen eyes caught the light pinkish blush that appeared briefly across the young girl’s face for a heartbeat. 

Interesting.

Life got in the way of things, and Taneo doesn’t get to visit the Dagobah Beach until Early August. 

A breakthrough in the Mind Hack case, a notorious villain who used his quirk to make people do his bidding without their knowledge, had finally seen the man’s arrest. It was all over the news, and Taneo had been one of the many reporters swarming the hideout where the villain had been residing in—a quiet neighborhood in Nabu.

There were even some reports of a child being found within his home, though he couldn’t verify its authenticity.  

So, when Taneo finally arrived one early morning, he found to his surprise that the beach had undergone a significant upgrade in his absence. Someone had taken the liberty of repairing the dilapidated gazebo near the shoreline of the beach, giving it a fresh new coat of paint and removing all the rotten wood planks and patching up any holes. 

The beach itself also looked better than it did in the past, with nearly half of the garbage removed and discarded away, revealing the clean yellow crisp sand that made up most of the ground.

Taneo actually felt like he could walk around barefooted in the sand and not accidentally step on a broken piece of glass and risk needing a tetanus shot.

His presence immediately drew eyes onto him the moment he stepped off the final step and made contact with the sand. 

Those that knew him, Monoma, Ashido, and Sekigai, waved their hands to him while the others shared curious glances at each other before tentatively approaching Taneo with smiles on their faces.

He had a much larger crowd this time around and it took a considerable amount of time to get to know the new faces that suddenly swarmed his vision. 

There was Hatsume Mei, the self-proclaimed pink haired genius who planned on creating life-changing inventions in the near future. She had a worrying tendency to talk way up close and personally, disregarding Teneo’s own personal space. 

Hatsume was barely held back from Taneo by an exasperated yet fondly smirking Awase Yosetsu; a young teen boy who was responsible for all the headbands everyone was wearing and had quite the eclectic choice of language when it came to swear words. 

Taneo could barely manage to contain his excitement when the heiress of the Yaoyorozu empire, Momo Yaoyorozu, came to help Yosetsu settle down the semi erratic Hatsume Mei all while calmly introducing herself as if Taneo had no clue who she was when in reality she was one of the most well-known names in Japan. 

Though few people would be able to accurately recognize the raven-haired heiress out of a line-up, Taneo had personally been invited to a few high-class events exclusive to only a selected curated guest list, which gave him the opportunity to mingle shoulders to shoulders with the upper echelons of High Society.

The Yaoyorozus were nearly present in every event, parading their beautiful daughter around as if she was a priceless gem that had been unearthed from an ancient powerful civilization. 

To be looked at from afar and not be anywhere close to her worldly presence.

Here, at Dagobah Beach, Taneo could only nod mutely as he shook hands with her, listening carefully to how the raven-haired Yaoyorozu came about meeting with Midoriya Izuku and the Dagobah Clean Up Crew. 

Once Yaoyorozu had explained her reasoning as to why she was a part of the initiative, it was like a floodgate had happened, and suddenly the other teens were chiming in with their own answers. 

It was no surprise that a majority of them wanted to be heroes in their own right, citing influences from a variety of seasoned Pro Heroes that had made names for themselves in the Hero industry.

Ojiro Mashiro, the blonde Heteromorphic boy with the large hairless tail Taneo had first seen weeks ago, had mentioned one of his idols, The Lion Hero: Shishido who was currently ranked in the top thirties in terms of popularity, as an inspiration. Understandably, seeing that heteromorphs were more likely to gravitate towards other heteromorphic heroes than most. 

From what little he could see of Ojiro Mashiro, the young boy at the very least channeled the Lion Hero's steely determination for justice.

Another teen, this one tall, lanky, and with skin the color of the deepest part of a midnight sky, named Kuroiro Shihai, had verbosely answered that he had a liking for the dark and broody type of heroes such as the Ninja Hero: Edgeshot or the Nightwing Hero: Rouge the Bat. 

In direct contrast to his best friend’s purplish prose, Honenuki Juzo, an equally tall boy with pale skin, ashy blond hair, and no lips, was shockingly simplistic and heartwarming in his own personal reason to become a hero.

He has a mother suffering from addiction, specifically pain medication due to how volatile her quirk was to her body, and was currently out on the streets, roaming for her next quick fix. Honenuki wanted to be a hero not only to save his mother, but to bring more awareness to those suffering from their quirks without a proper outlet to help them through the turmoil. 

That had earned the pale boy a nice round of applause for that, and Taneo placed an asterisk to Honenuki’s name for further consideration.

He might be someone to keep a close eye on in the future.

When the conversation shifted to one Midoriya Izuku, it was interesting to hear everyone’s relationship had evolved over the years or weeks they have known the green haired teenager. It seemed through his charisma alone, Midoriya had somehow managed to charm a wide array of people into his wide circle of friendships. 

Taneo was about to consider it the work of a mental quirk before one of the teens, Kirishima Eijiro, had casually mentioned offhand that Midoriya Izuku was “so manly even without a quirk!”. 

Pausing abruptly in the middle of writing another sentence, Taneo immediately shifted his gaze right onto the Hardening quirk user.

“Midoriya Izuku is quirkless?”

A pregnant pause rippled across the teens and most of them shared an uneasy glance at one another or a sharp frown in some few cases. 

“Yes,” Ojiro spoke out first, his large hairless tail curling a little behind him like a writhing King Cobra waiting to strike its unsuspecting prey. “Is that a problem?”

There was a bit of an undercurrent of a challenge beneath that polite but firmly asked question. 

It was no surprise that the treatment most quirkless people here in Japan typically face in their day-to- day lives wasn’t so stellar and as a professional journalist, he had plenty of firsthand experiences dealing with what some have taken to call the ‘undesirables.’

Taneo snapped his notepad shut. 

“No,” he answered, truthfully because it wasn’t truly a problem in his mind. “Not in the slightest.”

                                                              
It was a few days later when Taneo finally got to meet the elusive Midoriya Izuku.

He had just stepped out of the Dagobah train station, having opted for mobile transportation this time around for efficiency, when he had been approached almost instantly by a young petite girl with dark hair dyed a deep red in the front, and a pair of amazingly crystal cerulean eyes. 

Taneo nearly jumped out of his skin when he glanced to his right to find her already standing there with a bored, almost emotionless expression over her face. 

“What the heck, kid!” Taneo all but screamed in English as he placed a shaky hand over chest. 

He could feel the thump-thump of his heartbeat pressing harshly against his ribcage.

The strange girl simply curled one of her delicate dark brows upwards, her expression remaining otherwise unchanged, but Taneo swore he caught a glimpse of childish amusement flickering across her cold blue eyes.

“Midoriya wants to see you.”

That got Taneo to pause abruptly, gaping at the young girl with blinking mismatched eyes. Within seconds, he had reverted back to his cool, savvy, collected demeanor, smoothing out his wide scowl with practiced flawless ease. 

“And you are?”

He gave her one of his most charming dazzling smiles; the one that had opened doors (and other things) due to how shiny and perfectly aligned his white teeth were and hoped the usual desired effect would happen soon enough.

Unfortunately for him, it seemed that the young teen girl was immune to his roguishly dashing features, simply turning right around on her heels to walk, with a confident stride in her steps. 

Once she was a good distance away, the strange girl finally glanced back over her shoulders at Taneo before looking away again.

He knew exactly what he had to do.

Grumbling that his good looks had failed him for the first time in months, Taneo shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans as he lumbered behind the young dark-haired girl, who he was beginning to suspect was taking a great delight in his misery despite seemingly expressing only one emotion at a time.

She had hardly looked behind her once he started following her, and Taneo took that moment to gather his thoughts, both on the strange girl and his apparent impromptu meeting with the mysterious Midoriya Izuku.

Based on the mere fact that he had never seen her before prior to today, and the fact that she had referenced Midoriya Izuku, Taneo used his deductive skills to the max, and concluded that this was most likely Kodai Yui; another teen that had been referenced a few times (mainly from Awase Yosetsu, Yaoyorozu Momo, and a couple of others).

Other than what she had said to him; Kodai Yui barely spoke another word as they walked together in the beaming afternoon light of the community of Dagobah. Due to the rampant crime rate, businesses closest to the train station fared a lot better than those further by the coastline, and most of the passersby were seen in those convenience stores or cafes, taking full advantage of the Air conditioner and cold drinks.

It was unusually hot today.

And yet with the all black attire Kodai Yui was currently sporting–a simple black tank top, long black jeggings, a nice burgundy red leather jacket–one would be forgiven to assume it was Fall instead.

Idly, Taneo wondered if the clothes had anything to do with her quirk. Like Kuroiro Shihai fellow.

Eventually, after a few twists and turns in some shady looking alleyways with some equally shady looking characters who curiously gave them a wide berth (all while bowing their heads respectfully at Kodai), they had arrived in front of a cafe that could be best described as ‘not too shabby looking.’ 

The cafe, named THE ROOST, was near a semi coveted spot by the Dagobah beach, with pristine wide windows that pointed to the sandy yellow shoreline and a creamy pastel green exterior that enticed passersby to enter its cozy abode for coffee and yummy baked goodies. 

Entering inside, Taneo was greeted by the melodious jazzy beat of a classical piano playing softly in the background and the warm familiar rich scent of roasted coffee beans. The interior of the cafe was similarly covered with creamy pastel green wallpaper and wooden tables and plump green couches. 

A blonde spiky haired guy with scarlet red eyes was manning the front desk, already in the midst of pouring a customer a cup of espresso in a cream-colored mug. He looked up at them the moment they had entered, giving Kodai a small lopsided smile before gesturing to the back of the room where Taneo believed Midoriya Izuku might be waiting for them over there. 

“I will be with your orders right away,” was all the blonde said before returning his attention back onto the customer. 

Kodai simply nodded, making a beeline to the back without once glancing at Taneo to make sure he was following her too. 

Annoyed, Taneo quickly followed in her footsteps, a little peeved that all of his questions so far had remained unanswered since being accosted by the strange young girl. 

At least there was a silver lining to this metaphorical gray cloud over his head. 

Midoriya Izuku was not the kind of person Taneo had anticipated on meeting. 

He was, first of all, a lot older looking than Taneo had expected, with a nervous smile and a smattering of freckles across his face and hands. His hair, green with deep dark shades of black in some parts, hung low and wispy over his left eye, which gave Midoriya a sullen, shabby appearance that was completely unlike the clean, well-dressed image Taneo had conjured up in his head from all the comments he had heard from the Dagobah Clean Up Crew. 

When Midoriya shook his hand, Taneo took extra note of the long sleeves that reached up past his wrist, and the way the guy’s shirt was buttoned up all the way to his neck as if to hide something dark and secretive. 

“I–It’s really nice to meet you, Mr. Tokuda.”

Midoriya Izuku’s voice was high-pitched, and he seemed to stutter every other syllable. Still, there was little to doubt the genuine happiness that radiated from his tone. 

Raising an eyebrow, Taneo took a seat across from him while Kodai Yui remained standing by a nearby wall with her arms crossed over her chest.

“I think I should be the one saying that” Taneo said in return. “You’ve caused quite a stir around here and as a journalist I couldn’t resist an interesting potential story to write.”

Midoriya Izuku gave him a nervous sort of laugh, fiddling with the corner of a napkin. 

“That’s nice to hear.”

It was shockingly easy to keep his pleasant expression in place as Taneo listened to this Midoriya Izuku blabber about, making light small talk as if delaying the main reason for his arrival, which was odd, as Taneo had been brought here to interview him. 

Not the other way around.

The same blond guy from an earlier interrupted their conversation, bringing with him a tray of enticing baked goodies and four steaming cups of hot piping coffee. He set them each down one by one onto the table, and it was there that Taneo had finally noticed the thick heavy-duty pair of white gloves the guy had on each of his hands.

It was something that oddly contrasted to the otherwise ordinary pastel green and brown uniform that the man wore.

Immediately upon seeing him, Midoriya Izuku’s nervously odd demeanor brightened as he greeted the blond server with a wide toothy smile.

“Kacchan!” 

The blond server, interestingly enough nicknamed Kaachan (which was quite the feminine endearment, if Taneo was to be frank, given that the nametag on his shirt read Kaichi), grinned back in return, placing one of the steaming cups in front of Midoriya Izuku. 

“Hey, Matcha Bean,” was Kacchan’s reply. 

The two men were soon chatting, and Taneo wouldn’t be lying if he almost felt like an awkward third wheel with how buddy buddy they were with one another. The way the two males were staring at each other, especially the blonde one, hinted at something deeper in their relationship that as a professional journalist (and a hopeless romantic) could see with relative ease. 

A quick glance at his right revealed that Kodai Yui was nowhere to be seen. 

“Excuse me?”

Taneo turned to the left where a young boy was standing by his table, a warm smile on a freckled face. Green eyes met mismatched black and white and Taneo couldn’t help but feel a tingle of familiarity in the stranger’s friendly face.

“Uhm…”

 A bit lost for words, Taneo simply gestured over for the boy to sit.

Still smiling, the young boy took the seat next to him. He was dressed pretty casually, in a way that seemed almost effortless for fashionable teen influencers of the current Post Quirk Age. A red cap was perched comfortably on top of a nest of green curly locks that the strange boy then used to tip at Taneo in a show of gratitude. 

Taneo’s gaze was locked onto the shooting caped star logo embroidered onto the hat.

He knew that logo.

It was the official symbol of the Quirkless People of Japan Society or QPJS for short. The current largest non-profit organization dedicated to bettering the lives of quirkless people residing in the prefectures of Japan. And one of the few remaining ones survived the Post Quirk Ages.

For the past couple of decades though, it had become somewhat of a controversial symbol in society.

Known originally for its dedication in leading the first Quirkless revolution that had shocked the world in the 23rd century. With the rise of pro-heroes and quirks appearing at an exponential rate in various countries around the world, a general consensus was beginning to pick up steam within the population.

Those with quirks were the next step to evolution.

Suddenly humanity had the answer to their worldly problems right in front of them the entire time; that these quirks could solve everything that had plagued humanity from the beginning of time. 

From solving World hunger all the way to creating new organic compounds that break all convection of The Basic Laws of Chemistry, there was nothing that seemed impossible for mankind to overcome so long as there was the perfect quirk for the job. 

Thus, a group of people that had once been a minority and disenfranchised were now seen in a different sort of light from the majority of quirkless humankind.

Who were now slowly and steadily becoming extinct with every passing day.

“Thanks,” the strange boy said. “People aren’t really as considerate as they used to be.”

The boy then winked at him as if sharing a secret joke between the two of them.

Nowadays, wearing such a symbol is tantamount to broadcasting to the entire world your pro-quirkless view and status. Something that had been viewed almost as treacherous as treason to the Japanese government according to some popular local officials. Namely, the leader of the Hearts and Mind Party–Hanabata Koku. 

A very…contentious politician to say the very least.

Slowly, Taneo nodded his head. 

“I understand completely.”

The strange boy tilted his head as if considering something vital, before widening his handsome grin.

“Tell me.” There was a bright twinkle in those brilliant forest-green eyes of his. “Are you interested in changing the world?”

“You know that grape jelly…isn’t a suitable replacement for breakfast, right, Shou?”

Shou, better known as Aizawa Shota by his peers and Eraser Head by the media, leveled a tired but firm glare at his best friend. A packet of Konnyaku grape flavored jelly (his personal favorite was apple, but it was currently out of stock at his local Family Mart at the moment) dangled between his teeth, most of the slurpy purple goodness already sucked out from the bent straw. 

Just to be extra pretty, Shota made sure to slurp up the last bit with an audible loud gulp without breaking eye contact once.

His best friend gave him a soft sigh, turning away from the audacious display with a sip of his coffee mug that had the words ‘KARAOKE SINGER’ written in big bold letters at the front. 

“And people think I’m the childish one.”

To be fair, his best friend, Yamada Hizashi, or better known as Present Mic to his adoring fans and media, was a man that garnered a lot of attention based on his looks alone. His style consisted of black leather, lots and lots of belts, and had styled his long blonde hair into a spiky upturn that would make a cockatiel flush green with envy. 

He had always been this way, long before Shota had met him during their first year in Yueei High. A sucker for public attention, Hizashi loved the spotlight, and it showed even in his work as a Pro-Hero, always wanting to be the first in line to blast the villains away with a strong yell of his quirk, Voice.

It was completely opposite to who Shota was as a person. 

A man who preferred staying as far away from the spotlight as feasible possible. To the point where even his hero’s name, Eraser Head, was hardly mentioned on the news when it came to any hero discussions. He was at least in a cordial but distant relationship with the Musutafu police department and had an unofficial membership with the Midnight Crawlers, a prefecture specific group of heroes who were not affiliated with any hero agencies nor took any direct orders from the Hero Public Safety Commission. 

Basically, vigilantes that skirt between the line of legality and illegality.

Even his quirk, Erasure, matched his quiet, serious, aloof demeanor. It was extremely useful in stealth-based missions and watching villains who were once over reliant on their quirks struggle to use them when he turned them off with Erasure, never failing to amuse Shota the slightest bit each time. 

Hizashi took another long sip of his coffee, before opening the door that led to the staff faculty room specifically for those teaching the hero track course in Yueei High.

It was near the end of July, which meant that most of the students, especially those not on the hero course track, were on break till the end of August, enjoying the warm weather without stressing about any upcoming exams. Hero students, however, were shit out of luck and only had two weeks of vacation before having to return back to the school campus for extra training in preparation for the Provisional Hero License Exam. 

Typically, second- and third-year students were permitted to take the exam, but, recently, Principal Nedzu had been considering lowering the age bracket to include first year students as well much to the grumbling from the higher ups in the Hero Public Safety Commission.  

Oh well. 

Shota tossed the empty packet of grape jelly into a nearby bin as he headed to his designated office space in the room. And if he happened to have a Nyan Nyan Cat plushie resting on his seat from a gag gift he had received many Christmases ago, then who was Shota to say something?

Good thing, he had expelled his recent batch of students a couple of semesters ago. They were an absolutely terrible bunch. The worst he’s had so far in years. 

So many of them thought they were God’s gift on Earth and treated their quirks with blatant disregard for their fellow classmates’ wellbeing. Shota was more than happy to teach them a lesson in rationality and a taste of what life will be like for them as professionals.

If it had made him into the villain in those students’ eyes, then so what?

Shota would much prefer having angry but alive students as opposed to dead ones.

The rest of the staff faculty room was filled with the usual early birds: Ectoplasm (rank: unknown as the man was currently working as a full-time teacher since losing his legs from a villain attack) was preparing a large batch of Calculus quizzes for the third year students at his desk, which Shota had little doubt that the Cloning Hero was taking absolute delight in upping the difficulty level for his homeroom class in particular. 

Standing by the water cooler and chatting up a storm were two of the recent hires joining the upcoming Fall semester. Yueei High prided itself on giving the best education known to man not only in Japan, but possibly the entire world, and having high ranking Pro-Heroes as some of its faculty members was one of its main highlights to attracting potential students from all over the nation. Though the school does receive over hundreds of thousands of resumes from starry eyed Pro-Heroes itching to work at the exemplary institute, Principal Nedzu was surprisingly pretty picky when it came to hiring additional teachers; sometimes preferring to hire alumni despite it being seen as nepotism. 

That was the case for these two recent hires in particular, as they had both graduated from Yueei High in recent years with decent to stellar grades and had some previous exposure already to the world of Pro-Heroes.

The first was a purple skinned woman, who went by the name of Jinx: The Trickster Hero (current hero rank: 666). Her pink hair was styled into two devil horn shaped buns, and her outfit of choice consisted of an all-black purplish gown, which was a plus in Shota’s eyes. Her quirk, Bad Luck, allowed her to emit bad luck to anybody or anything within her vicinity, making her more useful for stealth based missions or small group battalions in order to reduce the amount of damage or friendly fires she might invertible cause with her quirk. 

The other hero was Bumblebee: The Honeybee Hero (current hero rank: 415). She was a dark-skinned woman who had impressive height for someone her age, coupled with a pair of expansive honeybee wings that poked out from her back. Her quirk, Honeybee, gave her all of the properties that came with the flying insect, including the shapeshifting ability to turn herself as small as a bee while retaining her extraordinary super strength and powers. 

Both were decent enough kids (with Shota having personally had the pleasure of being Jinx’s homeroom teacher for her first year in Yueei High) and were not as cocky or as annoying as some of the other recent hires. They were mainly here as teaching assistants, using the time spent here to gain some much-needed skills in teaching the next generation of heroes.

Jinx’s pink catlike eyes met his own from across the room, and she smirked–a telltale sign that something mischievous was afoot. 

“Morning Present Mic and Aizawa-Sensei,” Jinx said in a faux-cheery tone, while Bumblebee waved her hand in greeting.

No matter how many times Shota had tried to correct her, the Bad Luck quirk user still insisted on addressing him as her sensei and not colleague. 

“Sorry to say,” she continued, “but if any of you were planning to grab some coffee the machine is broken again.”

Aizawa took a glance at the left side of the room, where sure enough the extremely fancy and (very) expensive coffee maker was out of function once again. It wasn’t to say that Jinx had a terrible handle on her quirk, by far she was one of the most careful out of his students when it came to controlling her powers, but the Trickster Hero sometimes couldn’t resist pulling a prank or two at the expense of her peers.

“Again!?” Hizashi lifted his trademark yellow sunglasses up to his forehead, blinking his bright red eyes in surprise. “That’s the third time this month?!”

Her smirk turned into a sheepish sort of smile.

“Sorry, I just can’t help myself.”

Simply shaking his head, Shota took his seat as he pushed the Nyan Nyan Cat plushie to the back of his chair. 

“Just tell Nedzu to order another one,” he said in a dry, bored tone, waiting for his computer to boot up. “It’s not like we’re pressed for money.”

If anything, the Principal would probably commission an indestructible one by the support track students to withstand Jinx’s Bad Luck quirk. The mouse/bear chimera was always up for a delightful challenge. 

“Hey, hey! Listen to this, Ai-za-wa-kun~!” sang an irritating nasally voice coming from the desk diagonally opposite from Shota’s, causing the man to sigh in frustration as he turned sideways to face the unknown speaker. 

Asher: The Fae King Hero (current hero rank: 57) was one of the most annoying people Shota had ever had the misfortune of meeting and ranked high on the ‘Shit list’. Blonde, handsome, and extremely cocky; he knew that his good looks would earn him a lot of fame and accolades which made him a poor match against someone like Shota who liked to remain relatively unknown by the public. 

It didn’t stop the man from pestering him around like a love-sick teen girl.

“What.”

Asher’s shit eating grin had turned several degrees brighter knowing that he had once again gained Shota’s undivided attention, and Shota was just glad he didn’t have to see the man’s icy blue eyes beneath his purple sleeping mask that he always wore with his outfit.

“We might be having a special teacher joining our faculty soon~.”

That caused Shota to raise a brow. 

Nedzu hadn’t said anything about hiring someone new this late in the year. Especially given that most of the hero course positions have been filled by now, save for a few internships and Teacher Assistants spots that were typically reserved for alumni or third-year students with stellar grades. 

And what on earth could Asher mean by a special teacher?

Logically that would mean somebody from the top 50 rank, maybe even 30. Which wasn’t all too uncommon sight as several high-ranking Pro-Heroes such as Endeavor, All Might, and even Best Jeanist had all graduated from Yueei High. Often, especially during the Spring semester, Nedzu would invite some of them to discuss their experiences as heroes to starry eyed students eager to learn more about the world of heroics. 

The irrational side of him, however small it was, thought otherwise.

“Really?” Hizashi had joined in the conversation, taking his seat beside Shota and propping his feet up against the table much to Cementoss’s obvious disapproval from across the room. “Must be some big uppity fellow from the HPSC.”

That was another possibility. Even if Shota personally knew for a fact Nedzu would rather chew off his own tail than ask for anything of the sort from the Safety Commission. 

“Nah~.” Asher still kept his gaze straight onto Shota, which gave him the creeps. “It’s a hero. That I know. A high ranking one. Think of the top ten~.”

Shota’s other eyebrow joined the first one up on his forehead.

“Really?” Hizashi questioned, not quite buying it. 

Shota didn’t blame him. 

The top ten pro-heroes were notoriously busy with everything ranging from mission requests to interviews. None of them Shota could imagine having the time or energy to take on a full-time teaching position. 

Asher doesn’t respond to Hizashi’s comment, instead leaning slightly forward, his chin resting neatly on top of his hand with kawaii sparkles appearing out of nowhere in the background. 

“Say, Aizawa-kun~,” he cooed, and Shota knew better than to show any visible reaction to the sickly endearing usage of his name. “Are you busy this Friday? I saw there’s a new cat cafe that recently opened in Shibuya. I know how much you like those cute little kitty cats~.”

As if to further prove his point, Asher, somehow despite wearing a sleeping mask, was able to locate the Nyan Nyan Cat plushie that Shota had been using as a cushion for his back. Shota fully believed it was just a ploy to check out his ass. 

“Not interested.”

Asher frowned.

Pleased to have that terrible conversation out of the way, Shota concentrated on prepping for his next batch of younglings that he would have the pleasure of terrorizing come Spring of next year. The entrance examination was fast approaching, often taking place in the colder days of Fall. He was still assigned to be the homeroom teacher of class 1-a despite several requests (which have all been swiftly denied by Principal Nedzu) to finally be one for an upper year class. 

When Shota had first originally started out his teaching career, he had no prior experience of working with a crowd younger than 25 and it showed spectacularly during his first year as a homeroom teacher for an unsuspecting group of students. He had earned the lovely moniker: “That Hobo Guy”, from disgruntled students who had the displeasure of interacting with him. 

Shota, himself, had thought the very same thing as well. 

Teaching was not the first thing that popped into his head when it came to career choices, but a series of unfortunate events had led him onto this path which seemed to have no end in sight. At the very least he could enjoy the ride and tutor (or torture in some cases) a new generation of heroes for the unforeseeable future.

With that thought in mind, Shota prepared himself for a long day and a sleepless night of preparation. 

Unfortunately, Aster was right. 

There was a new teacher who would be joining their hero track faculty. And it was someone Shota had not expected. Nor was he equally pleased to see.

It had all started inconsequential enough. An email had appeared in his inbox one early Saturday morning, prompting him and all other staff members to report to conference room number 8 by ten o'clock at the very latest.

Shota had thought little of it as he got ready for the morning. 

He showered, got dressed and fed his cat, Sushi, his black and white tabby cat, her favorite breakfast meal, while Shota ate a bland meal of lightly buttered toast and some black coffee. He could never be like Hizashi, who insisted on drowning his own cup of coffee with sugar and cream.

Once ready, he headed out of the dormitory assigned specifically for staff members of Yueei High School. Campus life had been something long since implanted since the foundation of Yueei High, the founder at the time had wanted to create a school that would accept students from all over the world, and that had meant dormitories were a must have commodity.

Unsurprisingly, nearly all of the student population reside within the steely gigantic fortress that was recently ranked number five in the “World’s Most Secure Location” by TIMES magazine. And Shota couldn’t blame them for wanting to stay here.

The campus of Yueei High expanded for several hundreds of acres, brimming with everything from nature parks for students to leisurely walk in after their classes to a small but highly sophisticated series of shops all run by second and third-year students from the Department of Management and General Education. The sheer magnitude of it all tended to be more than a little overwhelming for incoming students and it wasn’t often that Shota, or one of the other hero staff like Hound Dog would be called upon by Principal Nedzu to search for a missing student who had gotten lost somewhere within the massive campus.

Thankfully most of the important school facilities are not too far from one another, but it still took some time for most to get used to it at first.

Using his capture scarf hung loosely around his neck, Shota grabbed a low hanging tree branch and propelled himself off from the ground. Quirk usage was normally frowned upon outside of emergencies, but Yueei High has always been known for their unorthodox way of thinking and Shota was technically not breaking any rules by using his own quirk in the slightest bit.

Plus, it was so much better than taking public transportation.

Mindlessly swinging from one branch to the next, Shota let the sounds of nature eased his anxious mind on the upcoming meeting with Principal Nedzu and the hero staff. Whatever it was, it must have been important enough for Nedzu to call in everyone on a nice Saturday morning and there could only be one reason as to why that was.

Shota grunted as he swatted a mosquito away from his face.

He hated surprises.

Always had. Always will. He liked going into things with a rational mind, calmly assessing his options before choosing the one that would guarantee him a 99% success rate with a small margin of error. He took that seriously, even outside of work, which would explain why he was still chronically single when his colleagues were all in steady long-term relationships.

Oh well. At least Sushi could keep him company for a while.

“Oh, excuse me!” a raspy voice bellowed from somewhere below the canopy of foliage.

Pausing at a particularly gnarly branch, Shota glanced down to find a very tall man with blonde hair waving up at him. He was dressed nicely in a yellow pinup suit that he wore loosely around his gaunt figure. This weas definitely not a student.

“Oh, thank goodness!” the man said once he noticed he had gotten Shota’s attention. “I was wondering if I would eventually find someone here. Would you mind helping me? I think I am a bit lost in finding my way out of this damn forest.” He added the last part with a sheepish grin that stretched easily and wide across the stranger’s face.

The sunlight highlighted the man’s dimples causing Shota to look away briefly.

In his head, Shota cursed his misfortunate.

He was not late for the meeting in the slightest bit, but he did like to make a point and show up early to seize the first cup of brewed coffee.

And it looked like Cementoss might beat him to the punch for once in his life.

“Sure.”

Shota swopped down in an instant and the man looked a bit taken aback at the blunt response but seemed to have recovered quickly from it.

“Thank you so much!”

The man bowed respectfully toward him as he spoke, which looked a little odd given the significant height difference between the two of them. Shota had to crane his neck all the way up just to meet him at eye level, which was annoying as hell to do.

“Sure.”

Swiftly, Shota pivoted on his heels and headed towards the direction of the building, not taking a second to glance back to even make sure the stranger was following along. He heard the man sputter briefly from behind him before heavy footsteps stumbled into a pace that easily matched Shota’s fast steps thanks to his long lanky legs. Another thing to be annoyed about.

For a good duration of the walk, it was silent between them. After the initial small talk had failed spectacularly, the stranger had come to some sort of conclusion that Shota was definitely not a morning person and gratefully seemed content to allow nature to fill the void.

“Where exactly are you going to?” Shota suddenly asked.

The stranger glanced over at him, seemingly as shocked as Shota was that he was the one starting a conversation this time around.

Shota felt the need to justify his reasoning.

“I need to know, so I can take you there directly. Otherwise, you will just probably gonna get lost again.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Shota could hear Hizashi screaming at him for being rude to a potential romantic interest. Not like Shota would have a chance. However friendly the man was, there was no way his type would be anything like him.

At least the strange man had the grace to not laugh, instead coughing slightly into a pale lavender handkerchief that he had kept tucked away in his pocket. Faint red droplets littered the edges of the cloth, and alarm bells rang off inside Shota’s head.

“The infirmary, if you don’t mind,” further solidifying Shota’s theory that the man needed medical help. It was all too common for many to seek out Recovery Girl for medical treatment or surgery, since she was one of the few people in the entire world to have a Healing Quirk that works extremely well on patients.

Shota grunted and said nothing else.

Eventually, the forest soon gave way to brick houses and infrastructure, and like a beacon of light, the twin towers of Yueei High gleamed valiantly beneath the morning sunlight. Despite having seen this building more than a hundred times, it still never failed to catch his breath every time he stood before its sparkling glory.

Beside him, the man let out a content sigh.

“Still amazes me each time I see it…”

Shota turned sharply to him.

“You were a student?”

The man chuckled a light tune.

“A very long time ago. Much before your time.”

There was a long pregnant pause before the man seemed to have realized the insensitivity of his comment before sputtering out, “Not that I think you look old or anything! Such a handsome man like yourself probably don’t have to worry about anyone questioning your age. Not unlike little old me.”

Shota should be mad.

First off, the man assumed he was old, which given his hobo like outfit wasn’t really too far out of the realm, but still. And second, the man then tried to compliment him by calling him handsome.

Something that had Shota’s heart racing slightly above normal.

How annoying.

Turning away, Shota nestled his face deeply into his Capture Scarf to hide his grimace. And the faint red flush he was sure had appeared around his cheeks.

“Sure. Whatever.”

He kept on walking, and as expected, the strange blonde man followed him without another word.

The Infirmary encompassed the entirety of the 8^th floor of the twin towers of Yueei High, equipped with enough beds to house a small neighborhood. A necessary precaution given that having adolescents with absurdly powerful quirks who are also not equipped with handling their emotions was a sure recipe for disaster. The majority of the patients tended to be those from the Hero course, but it was not unheard of for an Education course or a Support Course student to wander around the halls.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to reveal soft music and pastels walls. The Youthful Heroine: Recovery Girl (hero rank: currently unknown, giving that she had retired decades ago before Aizawa was even born) was a firm believer that hospitals visits should be as painless and as seamless as possible to ensure the least amount of trauma was inflicted on her patients. Something Shoto readily agreed with given that he has been to the hospital more times than he would like to admit to the point that he was already on first name terms with some of the nurses here.

Speaking of which, one of them, Nurse Tokoyami—a petite lady with a blond bird head—appeared out from one of the open rooms, rolling a cart of medicinal supplies in front of her.

“Oh!” A warm smile grew across her beak. “Good morning, Aizawa-san. Here for your weekly cheek-up or are you just stopping by to drop off a student for us to deal with?”

Shota gestured with his thumb at the person beside him.

“Neither.”

Nurse Tokoyami glanced over in confusion, and her eyes grew wide with surprise.

“Yagi-san!” She quickly approached the tall blond man and jabbed him right into his chest. “Where were you? Recovery Girl had asked you to come over into her office over an hour ago!”

Surprisingly, the man looked frightened, which Shota didn’t blame him for being. Nurse Tokoyami may be little, but she could use her quick (Phoenix Tears) with surprising brutality.

“Y-yes about that!” The man, now known as Mr. Yagi, waved his lanky arms wildly about in front of him. “You see…I had wanted to give myself some time exploring the campus since it’s been years since I’ve been here.” Here, he gave the nurse a sheepish smile which did little to quell her anger. “One thing led to another and suddenly I got lost in the forest. But thankfully…”

Mr. Yagi turned his gaze right onto Shota, sending a shiver down his spine.

Those sky-blue eyes were sort of nice to look at.

“Eraser Head, here, was able to rescue me from my predicament. Guess that’s why he’s a hero.”

Shota looked away sharply.

Damn it.

Nurse Tokoyami said nothing as she silently gave Mr. Yagi the stank eye before finally deflating with a soft sigh.

“Recovery Girl did say you were always a bit of a scatterbrain…”

Mr. Yagi spluttered in indignation while Shota coughed into his fist to hide the small chuckle that had managed to escape from his lips. Judging by the shot of annoyance he received from the other man; it seemed Shota had failed spectacularly.

Nurse Tokoyami then tsked, grabbing onto the long sleeves of Mr. Yagi’s yellow pinup suit.

“Well, we have to hurry then.” She began to drag the tall man with shocking ease. “Recovery Girl is on an important Zoom call right now, but I get started with taking your vitals in the meantime.”

Mr. Yagi seemed like he wanted to protest, giving Shota a pleading stare as he was unwillingly dragged down a corridor. Shota could only shrug helplessly.

There was no way he was going to come between a determined nurse and her patient.

The two disappear into a room and Shota took that as his cue to leave despite a small part of him wanting to stay behind just to observe in the background. He wasn’t sure why exactly this part of him wanted to know if Mr. Yagi was alright (that blood-stained handkerchief came to mind) but Shota knew that it was something he shouldn’t reflect too deeply into it.

He knew that would only lead to more pain.

“Ah! Eraser Head!” Nedzu’s cheery voice was the first thing to greet Shota as he entered the conference room. “Good to see you arriving on time.”

The principal, a small white mouse/bear in a fine expensive suit, waved his paw from his place at the head of the round table. Around him were many of Shota’s colleagues from the Hero Department, which included a rather uncharacteristically smug Cementoss who simply raised his steaming mug of coffee at him.

Shota let out a tiny grunt, making a beeline for the coffee machine and snack trays.

He had been with the Principal long enough to know that the chimera was pointing out how odd it was for Shota to arrive on time instead of his usual early arrival of an hour or two before the meeting had started.

Once his mug was filled with the delicious dark roasted goodness that was coffee did Shota finally addressed the purple elephant in the room.

“I got caught up with something.”

Principal Nedzu stirred at his tea, taking a delicate sip from it once he was done.

“Oh, I am quite aware of that.”

It was a running joke within the Yueei High that Nedzu has eyes and ears on pretty much every corner of the campus, and that nothing, and Shota meant absolutely nothing, ever got bypassed him without his knowledge. It was best not to question it.

“Well, anyway,” Nedzu beckoned Shota to join them at the roundtable, “Our main guest of honor is still quite busy, so we have some time before they arrive it seems.”

Midnight, who had been texting intently on her phone, raised her head from the screen with a curious look on her face.

“About that,” she said, “who exactly are we here for. It must be a big deal if you wanted all of us to be here today.” She then pouted. “I had to reschedule a potential Tinder date for the afternoon and another for tomorrow.”

A murmur of agreement rippled across the table.

“Yes, yes. My apologies.” Nedzu said, clasping his two white paws together. “It took quite a bit of legal work to get this person on board on our team here.”

Vlad King, a large muscular man with short grayish white hair and two prominent lower canines, huffed loudly in his seat.

“So, it is a top ten hero then,” he grumbled.

Beside him, Asher grinned.

“Wouldn’t this be a safety risk?” Snipe, ever the reasonable spokesman of common sense, chimed in. “Having someone at that level would attract all sorts of buzzards and mangy coyotes.”

Those were Snipe’s preferred euphemism for paparazzi given that he was a Cowboy fanatic.

“That had been most certainly considered, Snipe,” was Nedzu’s response. “But I can rest assure you and your concerns that such a thing would not occur within our esteemed campus.” A slight squeaky sort of chuckle emitted out from the Principal. “In fact, one might say that the opposite effect might occur.”

That peaked Shota’s interest as he took a seat beside Hizashi much to Asher’s clear disproval.

“Oh?”

Ectoplasm, who had been quietly watching till this point, had finally decided to join in the conversation.

“Is there something that we should be aware of about our new staff member?”

Another squeaky chuckle came out from Nedzu’s snout.

“Perhaps. But that would be something to discuss for another time. For now, just know that our guest of honor is here not only for academic reasons but also for personal reasons.”

Excited murmurs echoed inside the room.

Something beeped, and Nedzu looked down at the watch on his right wrist.

“Speaking of which, it seems our guest is on the elevator as we speak.”

More murmurs rippled across the roundtable.

Nedzu cleared his throat, and the murmurs quieted down in an instant.

The principal’s demeanor had shifted to one of seriousness.

“Before they arrive, let me lay down some ground rules. First, I would expect you all to continue to be professional within the walls of this campus. What you do outside of it is none of my business but do be aware that as a faculty member of Yueei High you are representing our fine institute to the world. Anything that looks bad on you will look doubly bad for us as well since I was the one that had hired you all in the first place.”

Several of the teacher assistants gulped, especially Jinx, who stood up rigid straight in her chair.

Meanwhile, Shota took another sip of his coffee, knowing fully well that Nedzu was just bullshitting. The chimera might have a personal vendetta against the scientists that had experimented on him before he became the beloved principal of Yueei High, but he had a soft spot for all of his staff members and was more than willing to go above and beyond for them even at the cost of his own reputation.

“Second, please do not bother our new teacher unless it’s for work related reasons as they are on a very tight schedule balancing academics and heroic duties. Unless I say it’s mandatory, do not expect our new teacher to attend every staff meeting. Though, I might be sorely tempted to make them join our yearly dinner gala if needed be.”

There was a sharp knock on the door.

“And last, but not least, do give a warm and friendly welcome to our newest staff member!”

The door burst open, and loud booming laughter made its way into Shota’s eardrums, instantly spoiling his mood.

It can’t be…

“No freaking way!” Bumblebee stood up from her seat in excitement. “Are you for real!?”

“Have no fear!”

A man in an obnoxiously bright blue and red spandex waltzed into the conference room, eliciting sharp gasps and animated squeals.

“For I—”

The man, All Might, ended up locking eyes right onto Shota’s, and Shota swore he saw a shimmer of surprise appear across the hero’s face.

“Am here!”

Shota cursed internally.

It seems he will not be having a peaceful semester anytime this year.

Sasaki Mirai

I have found a potential student that I want you to meet

Let me know of your earliest availability, Toshi

We haven’t spoken in a while

At the very least let me treat you to a cup of coffee

Yagi Toshinori stared at his phone for a long minute before stuffing it back into the pockets of his pinup suit.

It had been a very eventful day so far for him.

He wasn’t always the best at time management (something Gran Torino tried to beat into his thick skull) but even Toshinori himself knew he was playing it too close for comfort. He had started his day at his usual wake up at 6 in the morning, eating a meager breakfast of unflavored yogurt and green tea before setting out for his visit to the Yueei Highschool.

Toshinori had been eagerly awaiting for this day, even purposely having his entire weekly schedule cleared of all other meetings and interviews. He even did his best to taper down his tendency to help civilians in need, reminding himself that other Pro Heroes were more than capable of completing the job, though he couldn’t resist helping out a little girl rescue her cat off from a lamp post.

Today looked like it was going to be great.

The sun was out in full force, and the sounds of nature and people filled the air as he walked from his apartment in downtown Tokyo to the metro station. From there, it was a 45-minute wait as he took a direct line to Musutafu surrounded by chatty adolescents and sleepy salarymen.

It was a place he hadn’t personally visited in his civilian form, and he took his time soaking in all the new sights and sounds. Due to its proximity to one of the top high schools for potential Pro Heroes, Musutafu had transformed itself from a humble trading town to a thriving metropolis. New establishments were always in the works, and Toshinori found himself mentally jotting down anything that caught his attention.

Looks like they’re opening a cat café sometime next month.

The walk up the famously large hill to the school campus was a bit of a trek, and if Toshinori was any other person, he might have been tempted to use the specialized buses designated specifically for Yueei students and visitors but had thought better of it.

He would much rather enjoy having the sun on his face than be cooped up on public transportation.

Once he had arrived on the school ground, a security guard took down his information and issued him a temporary visitor’s id, and he was free to explore the campus so long as he was within the parameters of the ever-watchful eyes of the security Bots. Toshinori took that opportunity to explore one of the forestry areas near the twin towers, wanting to get some restful moments beneath the sunlight.

Unfortunately, he had found himself lost when it came time to head to the infirmary to see Recovery Girl for a quick check up, and Toshinori would have probably been forced to transform into his All Might form if not for the unexpected arrival of one Eraser Head.

The literal definition of Tall, Dark and Handsome, Toshinori had never had the pleasure of meeting someone who fully embodied the Underground Hero status so proudly. As All Might, the limelight was all he had even known, having to smile against fussy reporters who would out toss insensitive comments at him in an effort to get him to fumble on live television, and Toshinori could fill an entire library with the amount of trashy cheap magazine dedicated to discussing about his love life.

Or well lack of.

Eraser Head was none of those things. He moved within the shadows and remained there even after the dust had settled and the villains were neatly packed into transport vans to police stations, staying to help comfort a traumatized civilian or helping detectives gather all the necessary evidence to put the convicts to jail. Toshinori would be a fool to say he wasn’t a big fan of the Erasure Hero.

Even speaking to him up close and personal had sent Toshinori into a panic, stuttering on his words and coughing up more blood than usual.

Thankfully, the man either seemed to not care nor noticed his extreme nervousness.

When they had finally reached the infirmary, Toshinori had been ready to ask the man for his contact information in hopes of treating Eraser Head out for coffee as thanks for helping him out of the forest, but luck was not on his side for once in his life and Nurse Tokoyami had dragged him away before he could even get to say goodbye to the man.

Now Toshinori was having second thoughts on becoming part of the Yueei High’s faculty if it meant having to face Eraser Head on a daily basis. He had no clue what the other man thought of his All Might form, but judging by the sour expression that the Erasure Hero was sporting during the entire duration of the meeting with Principal Nedzu, Toshinori could only assume it was anything but positive.

Now, he had to learn how handle his emotions around Eraser Head while dealing with the joys of teaching snot nosed bratty teenagers.

Toshinori let out a deep sigh, loosening the tie around his neck a little bit.

He liked kids of course. The look of pure joy that would often appear on a child’s face whenever he arrived to save the day had always been considered a highlight for him. But teaching was a whole other matter. He was not very strong, academically wise, and even Gran Torino had laughed right in his face when Toshinori had told him a week ago about his teaching offer from Nedzu.

“You? As a teacher?” The old man had chortled through a mouthful of half-congealed Taiyaki. “I’m gonna have to pray for those students.”

Rude. But his mentor was not wrong.

Toshinori could admit to being many things, a hero, an idol, a symbol of peace, but being a teacher was definitely not one of them.

The evening sky was dark and brightly lit with tiny stars. Principal Nedzu made him stay back after the meeting was over to go through the school’s yearly curriculum with him and discuss what were the expectations for him as a teacher here at Yueei High. He wasn’t exactly on board as full-time given his chaotic schedule as All Might, but he also couldn’t skip his lectures all willy nilly for some banal reason.

It was important that he maintained a decent relationship with his colleagues in case he needed help with creating suitable homework or activities for his students. At least most of the staff were friendly; Present Mic was a riot to be around with, and several of the older Heroes like Cementoss and Ectoplasm he was at least familiar with given the work they had done together for HPSC assigned missions.

The teaching assistants were all from a much younger generation than the others and Toshinori would admit he was a little overwhelmed with the latest Gen Z slang and phrases that came from their mouths.

Still, for the first time in quite some time, Toshinori felt a silver of excitement building inside his chest. He knew the main reason he was even here was to find a potential successor to pass on the One for All quirk too, but it was also nice to have some sort of structure in life after a lifetime of chaos.

Plus, it would at least get him out of his apartment.

During his musing, Toshinori hadn’t realized that his feet had taken him to a place he had least expected to arrive at—the Takoba Municipal Beach Park.

Last time he was here, the place was a dumping site for unwanted trash and debris. It was also a haven for drug addicts and shady deals. He remembered the last victim that had been found amongst the piles of garbage. A young high school girl with an aspiration to become a hero only to have her life cut shortly from a jealous boyfriend.

The fact that the boyfriend was quirkless was a hot topic on the news, and Toshinori had felt sick in his stomach at the idea that this would only bring even more discrimination onto a community that was already suffering with disdain from the majority of the world.

As All Might, he had been forced to make a generic statement about the case. Citing that hate has no place in this world, and that anybody has the potential to change the world no matter what their background is.

It had felt gross to say it at the time, especially with how much the media had misconstrued his words into something indecipherable to suit their quirkiest agenda, but he wished he could do more for the Quirkless community.

Now, compared to before, the beach park looked to be in much better shape, with a good portion of the debris cleared out to reveal the white sands beneath. Even the gazebo at the end of the pier had been repaired, and Toshinori found himself gravitating towards, picking up pieces of white sands with his dress shoes.

It was peaceful here.

The dark waves lapped at the columns of the pier, and Toshinori could hear the faint squawks of seagulls in the distance.

He had no clue there was any sort of community project dedicating to renovating this place, he would have gladly joined in his civilian form. Maybe he could find a way to still join given that the beach park was not entirely cleaned out just yet.

Till then, Toshinori might find himself visiting this place in the near future whenever he needed some time to himself.

He looked up at the starry sky.

I hope I find someone.

Having One for All was a blessing. But it was also a curse.

And Toshinori was not sure he would want to inflict the same sort of trauma onto someone else. Especially someone who has yet to explore the world like he did.

Oh well.

Toshinori sighed to himself.

Something to consider once he crossed that bridge.

Till then, he was more than happy to continue being a pillar for World Peace.

Just for a little longer...