Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Heroes and villains are practically all anyone talks about nowadays. That means that no one really pays attention to those who keep a lower profile.

At first glance the sight is almost serene.

It’s hard to tell if the blue haired kid is a boy or a girl. They have baby blue hair tied up in two pigtails.

The combination of that hairstyle and the doll-like features make the kid look even younger, with a childish air around them.

They idly swing their legs back and forth while monitoring something on the ground below.

On top of a seven story building, sitting on the very edge is none other than Nagisa Shiota.

Without even a change in expression he reaches behind himself to retrieve his sniper rifle.

Perhaps it is odd that assassination makes him calm. Perhaps it’s weird, how when he ends someone’s life he feels like his own has a meaning. He doesn’t care though. No one in 3-E cares.

It’s funny, Nagisa decides, how just a year ago they all hated being in class 3-E, and yet, now that they’re high schoolers in class 1-B of the Japanese Assassination Association education program, they refuse to be called anything other than class 3-E.

He takes his aim as he muses over the way they all… requested to not be separated into different classes.

The ones in charge praise their skills but call them codependent kids. They’re right of course, but it’s not like any of them plan to say it out loud.

Karma still insists he’s staying with them out of boredom.

Nagisa pulls the trigger.

He’s become so used to the sound of a gun firing that it’s little more than white noise. “You got him!” Comes Ritsu’s familiar voice. “The others are waiting for you at the place.”

Nagisa packs away the gun in practiced motions.

Their whole class is skilled in the various ways of killing people, it’s only natural considering who their teachers were after all. Of course there are preferences in methods but they can do just about anything when it comes down to it.

The assassination association had snatched them up the moment they were no longer protected by Korosensei or the government. Initially they had all protested to joining the association, but then an offer was made to hire bitch-sensei as one of their teachers.

They’ve all grown and developed in their own ways since then.

It’s nice, Nagisa thinks as he’s making his way down the fire escape. He’s no longer defined by his mothers desperate wishes for a daughter and feels exhilaratingly free because of it.

He no longer keeps his hair long in fear of his mother, instead he keeps it long because he thinks he looks good with long hair.

It wasn’t easy being outcasts of course, but they had each other and they didn’t need much more.

Nearly half of their class was quirkless, a majority had weak (read: non combative) quirks, two had quirks they couldn’t use because they didn’t function properly and Kirara had a “villainous” quirk.

It was weird how the school had managed to gather so many quirkless kids into one place considering how small a percentage they were.

Nagisa remembers that before he was booted to 3-E he faced constant harassment and bullying from his classmates for being quirkless.

Nagisa slightly shakes his head to banish the memories. They did him no good now that everything was settled.

No one knew about what happened to their class.

The government had made an announcement that the destruction of the moon was nothing more than an illusion quirk, and that the villain behind it had been apprehended. Their class is still unsure how they repaired the moon.

He skips down the road with a carefree smile on his face as passer-by house wives and grannies coo at the ‘cute girl’.

Even just a year ago he would have been embarrassed and try to awkwardly explain that he’s not a girl. But he didn’t really care anymore. These people were outsiders who didn’t matter. They could look at him and think what they wanted for all he cared.

Crossdressing wasn’t a hobby of his, nor was he planning to make it one though. Just because he was finally comfortable with his appearance didn’t mean he was going to start wearing those frilly dresses and jewellery his mom would buy and try to persuade him into wearing.

Nudging open the inconspicuous door to the apartment building smack dab in the middle of the street he steps in.

For all the people around him knew, he looked like a perfectly average kid getting home from an outing. His family probably lived in one of the apartments.

But instead of climbing the stairs to where the living area was he casually made his way into the basement. Even more stairs greeted him, still going down.

He continued his descent with a pleasant smile, looking like he was on a casual stroll.

Finally he made it to the (presumed) bottom and nudged open yet another perfectly ordinary door.

It opened up to a system of, what should have been, abandoned tunnels. Instead it was a hub of activity, bustling with life as various assassins came and went. Accepting hits, trading, gathering intel, training and much more. There was no end in sight to the tunnels.

They were about half the width of the streets above, making them incredibly cramped and most places were carelessly decorated.

Some areas were cleaned up and looked more professional. Those areas tended to be more closed off than the rest of the tunnel system.

Said rest of the tunnel system was a cacophony of crates, tables, blankets. All sorts of goods like guns, knives, bombs and poisons were piled up to the roof.

It wasn’t some calm village life thing though. Everyone here was a trained killer in one way or another. Fights broke out often, though they were more civilised than what took place above ground.

There were rules to this strange society Nagisa found himself a part of.

No one picked fights with minors except other minors. That was the most closely followed rule. The kids that found themselves down here were the next generation of assassins after all.

There weren’t as many of them as one would have you believe. Fifty newcomers a decade was already considered a lot.

Nagisa and his class had been given a warm welcome for that exact reason. They were well trained, worked well together, already had connections to the community through their various teachers and acquaintances, and there were a lot of them.

Besides them there were two other classes. There just weren’t enough students for more.

There was 1-A and 2-A. They consisted of various age groups that were just mashed together depending on when they joined and their skill level.

1-A was the complete beginners while 2-A was those that were ready to become full fledged assassins whenever the opportunity arose.

Of course there were also direct apprentices but their teachers tended to be incredibly protective of their “fledglings” as they were called.

Another rule was that fights weren’t allowed to be too destructive. They were right below the damned city after all. And they needed these tunnels to stay forgotten.

Stealing was allowed if you don’t get caught.

Murder was allowed if you don’t get caught.

Well...

Even if you get caught, the only real punishment is scorn for doing a sloppy job and possible revenge.

Clearly, the association had its priorities in check.

Nagisa weaves through ‘the market’, between the crates, the tables, the blankets and the people. He scurries for the familiar entryway with 1-B scratched into the wall next to it.

They should really fix that sometime. They’re 3-E after all.

The classroom wasn’t very fancy, nor was it really a classroom.

It was a large empty space with their training equipment scattered around the place, mattresses with some odd bunk beds in the mix, and a small sitting area with a chalkboard.

Bitch-Sensei always sniffed unhappily at their living situation, but nothing could be done. None of them wanted to stay with their families and the JAA hadn’t had time to set things up for them yet.

Nagisa had seen the news, apparently they’d been pronounced dead after their disappearance.

This place was only a minor post for the JAA. A place to rest for any assassins on a mission in this less connected area of Japan. The headquarters was in Musutafu. It was really ironic how close it was to all the big shot hero agencies, not to mention UA.

It was almost like a secret taunt.

Heroes knew of their existence of course. No one can hide an organisation this big completely. There were whispers in the streets. Everyone from Heroes, villains to vigilantes knew to some extent that they were scattered across the globe. Hell, even citizens would gossip about it every now and then.

But that’s all the outsiders had on them really. Rumours.

Nagisa saw a blur of blonde hair and suddenly he had Nakamura hanging off his shoulder. “Yahoo Nagisa! Ritsu said your mission went well.”

“Yeah! Everything went smoothly. I think some people didn’t even notice he was dead for a good minute.” Nagisa smiles back easily.

“That’s our class prodigy for you! Though I still don’t understand why they sent you and not Chiba or Hayami.” She laments. After a pause she continues “Or both. Lord knows those two need to go on a date already.”

Nagisa only chuckles at his friends dismay. “I think they’re just trying to scope out our skill level so they’re sending us on as many different missions as they can.”

Nakamura hums noncommittally and falls into step next to him as he looks for his bag in the mess. “Yeah probably. I mean they sent Okuda on a close combat heavy mission just a week ago.”

“It’s a good thing Korosensei made sure to train us in as many fields as possible. But even so, they’re clearly trying to push us as far out of our comfort zone as possible.”

They were incredibly lucky that Korosensei was a ridiculously good teacher, and what they hadn’t gotten to learn from him or the other teachers they’d learned from each other.

Sure. He supposes it had been entertaining to listen to Terasaka complain about his stealth mission but it was starting to get annoying.

He guesses they’ll have to weather the storm until the JAA stops messing with them.

—

Izuku’s days consisted of cowering in school, cleaning the beach until he felt like he’d fall apart if he moved even a millimetre more, and studying for the entrance exam.

It was horrible, inhumane and so unbelievably dull but he had a goal. He just had to endure this and he could become a hero! All Might himself had looked at Izuku and thought he was worthy of his legacy.

It was while he was cleaning the beach that he saw her for the first time.

A petite girl with striking blue eyes and hair of a similar shade, styled into cute pigtails. The girl was incredibly pretty, but it was not her looks that caught his attention.

He looked at her and felt a shiver run down his spine. Izuku couldn’t for the life of him figure out why.

For all intents and purposes she looked perfectly ordinary. A giddy bounce in her step and a pleasant smile on her face.

Then he looked at her hand. Her fingertips were absolutely covered in blood, dripping on the sidewalk as she walked. It looked like her fingernails had been brutally torn off. He highly doubted it was just a quirk of some sort, and yet she smiled and continued walking like it was nothing.

Then she paused mid-step and the one eye visible to Izuku snapped to look at his frozen figure. There was something cold and hardened in the gaze that just a moment ago had looked rather satisfied.

She held his gaze for a moment before turning to face him, revealing the other side of her face and more importantly her other hand. It was in much the same state as the one he’d seen before, if not coated in even more blood.

Before he could properly process it though the girl smiled at him and raised one of her blood covered hands in greeting.

Izuku blinked slowly in shock and shook his head to clear his head only to find her hands to look perfectly fine when he reopened his eyes. No blood.

Had he imagined it?

Surely not, it looked so real! Was he going crazy?

“Are you alright?” Asked the girl who was suddenly standing much closer than he remembered her being. “The weather is much too hot right now for what you’re doing! Do you have water on you?” She asks with a concerned tilt of her head.

Too hot? He supposes it is warmer today than usual. He must look terrible. He probably smells even worse. The idea of being so disheveled and smelly while in the presence of such a pretty girl makes him flush in embarrassment.

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a pack of wet wipes and handing one to him.

She looks at him questioningly when he just stares at her.

“Ah! Sorry! I must be really out of it, I thought it looked like your hands were bleeding.” He mutters in his mortification.

“Bleeding? No, I assure you my hands weren’t bleeding. Are you overheating? Staying hydrated is important you know.” She chastises gently, lifting her left hand in demonstration. Just as she said, there is not a drop of blood on her hand.

Desperate for an excuse for the awkward moment he latches onto what she said. “You’re right! It totally slipped my head to bring water!” It’s been a long day, he must have forgotten.

She smiles sweetly and hands him the rest of the wipes. “That’s no good! You can have these to try and cool off as much as you can! You should definitely get home soon though!”

What a nice person! He went and caused trouble for her just because of his own foolishness to bring a water bottle, and now she’s helping him!

“Thank you so much!” He bows as deeply as he can with his aching muscles.

“It’s no trouble, really! Maybe we can see each other again some time!” She says with a small wave as she continues on her way to wherever it was she was going.

Izuku clutches the gift to his chest with giddy happiness. He made a friend! At least he thinks this counts.

He does as the girl suggested and grabs his backpack to walk back home.

When he makes it back he’s greeted by his mother. “Izuku! You’re home, how was your day dear?” She asks pleasantly from behind the stove.

“Great! I think I made a friend!” He beams at her.

She startles at the announcement. “Really? Oh Izuku I’m so happy!” She exclaims as tears already threaten to spill from her eyes from joy. “Were they nice? Is it someone from school? What’s their name?”

“Mn! She was super nice! Not from school though, I met her at the beach! Her name was… oh my god I completely forgot to ask!” He freaks out as he realises that.

He can’t believe he forgot after she helped him!

“Oh Izuku, it’s alright! I’m sure your friend will understand that you’re just not used to such things. I know you struggle with these things that most people can do easily, and that’s fine!” She says, indulging his- probably stupid- panic.

It’s true after all, he never made any new friends after Kacchan and he began having their disagreements. It’s just hard to feel comfortable around people. He’s so similar to his mother in that he gets so overly emotional at times.

He just hasn’t learned to deal with it like his mother has! He’s sure that once he’s older he’ll stop overreacting to every word that accidentally hurts his fragile feelings.

After he finally manages to accept that all those- seemingly mean- things the kids at school say aren’t meant to hurt him, he can finally fix his pathetic social life, after all, he’s not so special as to be treated differently.

He trades a few more words with his mother before heading to his room. He digs through his backpack looking for where he shoved his notebook.

Predictably it has yet again ended up at the very bottom. He shifts his water bottle to the side and grabs the notebook.

He saw such a fascinating quirk. He wonders if the thumbtacks were a part of his body or if they can be removed, maybe it can-

—

Next time he meets the girl he’s fully conscious and ready to attempt to fix his lacklustre first impression.

“Hi, um, do you remember me?” He asks nervously.

“Oh it’s you! Izuku Midoriya, right?” She smiles gently like last time. “Wait you really remember me?” He asks, probably with stars in his eyes.

“Of course! You had me really worried you know!” She frowned.

Izuku sheepishly rubs the back of his neck at the reminder. “Sorry about that! By the way, I completely forgot to ask your name!”

She laughs lightly at his awkwardness before waving off his apology. “It’s alright! I’m Nagisa Shiota.” She introduces herself.

Izuku takes a moment to think of what to say next, but then that moment stretches into an awkward silence.

“Where are you headed Shiota-San?” He finally manages.

She winces. “Please, you can call me Nagisa. I’m going to see my mother in the mental ward.” Nagisa-San reveals.

A small gasp escapes Izuku. “Oh no! Is she okay?”

She seems uncomfortable and Izuku immediately regrets asking. How stupid can he be? This is sensitive! “She’s just been… struggling lately.” Nagisa-San answers vaguely.

“I see.” He says sympathetically. “I hope she gets better.”

Her smile stiffens further. Stupid Izuku! You always say the wrong things.

“Yeah! Me too. I should go now though.” She awkwardly averts her eyes.

“Right! Sorry for keeping you…” he scuffs his shoe in the dirt nervously.

“Alright. Bye then” Nagisa gives a sweet smile and a wave.

Izuku isn’t entirely sure where the confidence for it came from but one moment he’s looking at the girls retreating from and the next he’s calling out to her.

“Hey wait!” She turns to look at him over her shoulder. “Can- um. Could we hang out sometime?” He asks her, cheeks aflame at the embarrassment.

She smiles again and fishes something out of her bag. She tinkers for a moment before tossing something to him.

He catches the object, though he fumbles with it for a moment. It’s an erases, and on it, scribbled in neat handwriting is a phone number.

Izuku looks back up to say thank you but Nagisa is already gone.

She must have been in a hurry.

—

Nagisa doesn’t know what to think of his new friend. Midoriya is skittish and awkward, though very determined in his beach cleaning mission for some reason.

He had done a background check and hadn’t found anything overly interesting other than the boy’s quirklessness. What are the odds?

Nagisa will admit to a small bit of stalking. Just a little though. He doesn’t know why but some part of him felt like he should keep an eye on the greenette.

From what he’d seen, Midoriya was an outcast at school. It wasn’t shocking, but it was disappointing.

Nagisa recalls the way Midoriya had cowered from the bullies. He couldn’t help but frown.

He still remembers the way he himself had been bullied with crystal clarity. It was annoying and downright humiliating at times, but Nagisa hadn’t cowered. Not the way Midoriya did anyway.

The other boy was still in middle school though they were the same age. 3-E had finished early due to the whole… killing their teacher thing.

Though.

Could it be considered finishing if they disappeared and were announced legally dead right after?

Nagisa didn’t have a high opinion of Midoriya’s classmates. In fact he was tempted to sabotage their entrance exams.

Most of them (including Midoriya) seemed keen on becoming heroes. Nagisa thinks they’re stupid. He told his friends about this. They also thought they’re stupid.

Most of the time the kill requests that the JAA got were for villains, criminals or other messed up people. Not that the association cared much for the heroes versus villains crap the rest of the world was so keen on.

In fact, villains themselves regularly requested for other villains to be assassinated, and those jobs were taken happily.

Despite the fact that most people in JAA didn’t mind killing a hero though, they simply didn’t get many requests for them. Mostly because it was obscenely expensive, but also because there was a big lack of regular civilians that made requests for heroes.

After all, why would a civilian wish death on those that protect them?

Nagisa couldn’t help but scoff at that. He doesn’t buy the “very few civilian requests” thing. There were plenty of corrupt heroes. Nagisa’s top contending theory was that hero assassination requests weren’t getting through because the Hero Commission was paying the JAA higher ups off.

“Watcha thinking about?” Karma snaps him out of his thoughts.

“The likelihood of people not wanting heroes dead.” Nagisa answers truthfully. There is no hesitation in telling the other the unfiltered truth. Why would he need to hide things from them anyway? After everything they’ve been through, it’s only natural to have a close bond amongst them all.

Nagisa eyes Karma as the other chuckles at his straightforwardness. Karma has stated on many an occasion that he likes how Nagisa is becoming more and more confident.

Distantly he thinks a certain green haired boy should take notes.

“Yeah?” Karma says as indication to elaborate. Nagisa shrugs in response. “Nothing more to tell really, the Hero commission is probably just paying an obscene amount of money to keep their precious heroes alive.”

“It would need to be a lot, considering the average price tag for hits on a hero.” Karma muses.

They fall into a comfortable silence. Nagisa fishes out his anti-Korosensei blade and fiddles with it. Now that their teacher is gone the knives are pretty useless for anything other than practice, and honestly there’s better equipment for that as well, provided by the JAA.

“Imagine the outcry if this was revealed” Karma pipes up.

Nagisa snorts “Please, every assassin worth their salt already knows, they won’t care as long as they still have a job to do, and you know that the JAA will just dissolve whatever agreement they may have with the Hero Commission the moment it starts looking unprofitable.”

The redhead shakes his head with a devious grin. “All that is likely true, but I meant if the general public found out. Normal civilians, hell, even a good amount of heroes will be furious!”

Nagisa ponders the idea for a bit before giggling to himself. He will admit, it does sound amusing.

“I’m serious Nagisa! The government is likely involved too! We could screw them all over so bad!” Karma continues with a smile that shows all his teeth, he looks dangerous and Nagisa has never seen anything more endearing.

Karma is dangerous, so is Nagisa and the rest of their class. It’s entirely natural, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He thinks of Midoriya and his muscled body. The determination to fight for what society says is right. Hard work had gone into gaining his strength.

Nagisa could kill him.

Hell, Okuda could kill him with her bare hands. No poisons needed. She’d rather not, she doesn’t like getting her hands dirty, but she could.

Easily.

Chapter Text

“Mom.” Nagisa speaks softly.

The gaunt looking woman remains motionless in her bed.

“Mom it’s me.” He says taking her hand in his and bringing it up to his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

Finally she looks at him. “Oh.” A sweet smile spreads across her face, though her eyes are still dazed. “My daughter. How are you darling? Is school going well? I hope you’re keeping your grades up.”

“Of course mom.” He answers. “I’m top of my class.”

Her hand shifts to his hair petting it slightly. “I expected nothing less. My perfect little girl.”

“Would you like some tea?” Nagisa asks and waits for his mothers slow nod.

Nagisa carefully slips out of her hold and moves to the counter on the other side of the room, still making sure his mothers listless eyes could follow him.

He puts the water to boil and looks for the tea leaves. Third drawer on the left. Middle row. “What flavour do you want?” He asks gently turning to look at her. She only tilts her head to the left with a sweet smile playing on her lips.

He opts for lavender.

Getting everything settled he brings over the cup of tea to her and places it carefully in her hands. He keeps his hands over hers for a bit making sure her grip is secure. When he lets go his hands hover above hers as they shake slightly.

She calmly sips at the tea. Everything is peaceful.

“I have to go soon. Will you be ok?” Her eyes snap to his, and her hand shoots out to grab his wrist. “No. No.” She shakes her head, eyes pleading.

“Don’t go yet honey.” She tugs him into an embrace, and he gingerly takes the half empty cup of tea from her before it spills. Another minute passes with her murmuring incoherently and petting his hair.

“Shiota? Your visit time is almost up.” Comes the polite reminder from the nurse who’s peeking in through the door, eyeing his mother cautiously.

“Mom. I have to go.” He reminds her.

“No. No.” She shakes her head and rests her chin on his. Her grip on his wrist tightens slightly. “No.”

Nagisa brings his hand to pet her hair like she did for him and her hold on him loosens. He slips out of her embrace, carefully so as not to hurt or startle her.

He slips out of the room.

Immediately screams echo from inside. “NO! BRING HER BACK!!!”

“We can’t miss Shiota.”

“I want my daughter! My baby!” She wails.

“You can see your s- daughter again next week.” The nurse tries to placate her. “No!” She heaves through sobs. “She’s dead! My baby is dead!”

“Miss Shiota I assure you, your child is safe. She visits every week. She’ll be back.”

The nurses attempts are futile though and Nagisa hears glass shattering. He suppresses a wince.

He had truly hoped she’d finish her tea this time.

No point dwelling on it though.

He retrieves his coat and gives a polite nod to the lady at the desk. The air is crisp and cold in the late hour, and the sun has almost completely melted behind the buildings. A part of him is unsettled by the view, still expecting to see the treetops that used to shield their little class from prying eyes.

Until the whole thing was demolished that is.

It took three hours to stop Karma from brutally murdering the people responsible for that decision. The rest of the class wasn’t much more amused.

At the very least they’d already ransacked the place for everything Korosensei related months before, but it still hurt. The only proof they now had of that year ever happening was each other, the comically detailed guide books and their skills.

The guide books were honestly ridiculous. They’d thought the field trip one was detailed, but Korosensei also made one for just life in general, one for assassination, and one for shopping for whatever reason. The girls in their class had decided to make a hobby of reading them and Nagisa had joined them every now and then. That hobby slowly turned into a book club, of which Nagisa isn’t a member, but joins them anyway when the book they’re reading at any given time strikes his fancy.

He’s snapped out of his musings by a set of footsteps that falls into rhythm with his own.

Someone is following him.

The footsteps are heavy with an amusing confidence in them. Just what is this person trying to do? Are they just a petty thief?

Nagisa opts to ignore them until they make their move and falls back into his own mind, listening to his newfound shadows approach with half an ear.

You could call it arrogance, certainly, but after such a long time doing what they do, it’s become second nature to distinguish threats from minor inconveniences. The dangerous ones have a certain air around them. Ironically less violent and almost idyllic.

If the person following him was one of those threats they wouldn’t be so confident, wouldn’t be much of anything really, footfalls as silent as Nagisas own.

He’s almost in reach of his pursuer, and just as he senses them make a grab for him— “Nagisa watch out!”.

He watches with idle curiosity as his newest friend throws a backpack at the man. It’s quite fascinating how often they bump into each other.

Nagisa has spotted the greenette on many an occasion but has decided it would be better not to approach. Besides, the other teen was quite fun to observe.

Midoriya dashes over to him and begins tugging him away from the scene by his arm. Nagisa decides to follow without a fuss, mostly because it’s kind of sweet that the other is so concerned about his safety.

“Hello Midoriya.” He greets. He’s not entirely sure what he’s supposed to say or act like in this situation so he opts for his general manner of speaking.

The boy in question finally decides they’ve made it far enough away from the man, “ah! You can call me Izuku!” He insists.

—

Izuku isn’t sure what to think of Nagisa right now.

He’d been surprised to see the girl, never mind that she was being followed by some sketchy guy. When the man made a move to grab her, while she was completely unaware of the danger, he couldn’t help but panic.

In his rush to reach her he just did the same thing as with the sludge villain and threw his backpack at the guy.

Yet when he’d finally gotten her away from him she was completely calm.

“Are you okay? He almost got you!” He anxiously questions.

Nagisa only gives him one of her sweet smiles, “I’m fine, really! I can almost always tell when, and how much danger I’m in. I promise I was fine.” She’s quick to assure him.

It must be her quirk! Some sort of danger sense, or maybe just heightened senses in general? That must be so useful! What does the quirk consider as danger? Could she tell a glass was going to break if there was a chance a shard could hurt her? From the sound of it she can’t turn it off, but are there ways that she can control it? Can she— “Izuku?”

“S-sorry!” He squeaks out of habit.

He only receives another smile. “It’s alright, I don’t mind!” She tells him kindly.

“I- well… at least you’re alright.” He finishes lamely.

She chuckles quietly, “you know, what you did was basically vigilantism.”

Izuku startles at the word. That’s the same thing he was told when he intervened with the sludge villain.

He did it again…

“It’s alright though. You did what you believed was right.” She doesn’t look at him as she says this, only keeps walking. Izuku isn’t sure when they started the trek, and he’s not even certain where they’re going but clearly the girl has more to say, and Izuku wants to hear it.

“Personally I think non heroes can still be plenty heroic. I understand why the laws are in place of course, even if they’re rickety at best.” She tilts her head slightly, pigtails swaying with the motion. “Where it gets truly bad though, is the sheer amount of heroes, who don’t have a single heroic atom in their body.”

A frustrated huff sounds.

“Even if a hero is around, you’ll only be saved if they think you’re worth it. Heroes should be the people who believe everyone is worth it.” She says quietly.

“You’d make an amazing hero Izuku. You should definitely try.” She says, finally turning to look at him with a smile.

Izuku thinks he’s crying. No, he’s definitely crying. For some reason hearing that he can be- no, should be a hero, from this person he’s known for, at most a week, is somehow more incredible than hearing it from All Might. Maybe it’s because she didn’t even ask what his quirk is before saying it. Didn’t even seem to register it as a variable.

“You really think so?” He asks, voice fragile.

She smiles widely, teeth on full display for what might be the first time in their friendship, but Izuku can’t even take in this new expression, because then she says, “sure! I’ve got a bunch of friends I’m sure would agree with me too!”

And that’s when the floodgates open for real and Izuku becomes a sobbing mess. “Thank you…” he chokes out between crying.

He feels hands gently pulling him into an embrace. Nagisa smells of something vaguely sweet, though he can’t quite place it.

When he calms down and pulls away from the hug, he can’t help himself from saying, “you’d make a great hero too.”

What he doesn’t expect is for Nagisa to start laughing; her laugh is gentle and light as a bell, almost like a lullaby. Everything about this girl is sweet and unassuming. She could commit a murder in front of him and Izuku might still give her the benefit of the doubt.

He’s not too sure why his thoughts turned so dark all of a sudden but he shakes it off just in time to hear Nagisa’s laugh fade out. “No, I’m afraid that’s not the case. I’m the farthest thing from a hero, and I’ve never wanted to be one if I’m being honest.”

“But- never? Haven’t you ever dreamed of being like your favourite hero? Like All Might?”

She seems to consider his question for a moment. A wistful smile takes over her expression, “Like All Might huh? I can’t say I ever wanted to be like All Might, but I do understand looking up to someone like that. I’m already on the path to follow in that person’s footsteps though.”

Izuku looks at his friend for a moment. “You really haven’t even thought about it? Not even once? What about your favourite hero? You haven’t ever looked at them and thought you’d like to be like them?” He keeps insisting.

“No, never.” She admits and shakes her head.

Somehow it seems as though Nagisa is so far away; like all of a sudden she’s in another world entirely, and he just can’t reach her no matter what.

He doesn’t even notice when they reach his house. “Thanks for looking out for me.” She says and hands him his bag. Was she carrying it the whole time? That’s so embarrassing! He made a girl carry his things!

“It’s been a while since we saw each other,” she muses, “if you want to meet up sometime just text me, ok?”

Oh. Izuku had forgotten about that. The eraser is still sitting on his desk.

“Yeah, ok.” He answers.

—

A hero huh? Nagisa wasn’t lying when he said he’d never thought of being a hero but… “Karma? What do you think of heroes? As a concept I mean.”

The redhead looks up from his food.

The quaint little coffee shop has a light and peaceful atmosphere, it’s the kind of place where a love story could take place.

Karma ponders while taking a sip of his drink. “As a concept,” he starts, “heroes are impossible.”

Nagisa expected as much. In theory, heroes are the pinnacle of humanity, the best of the best, the barrier between the helpless and the danger.

In practice, being a hero is a job, a competition, a means to an end, or a way to prove a point.

Perhaps for some it is a passion. Nagisa is not pessimistic enough to believe there isn’t a single selfless person out there, but what does that matter? That minuscule group, what difference do they make compared to the rest?

“What’s got you thinking about this all of a sudden?” Karma asks.

He only shakes his head with a smile. “Just a conversation I had.”

Nagisa takes a bite of his cake. “It’s kind of dry,” he comments offhandedly, and continues eating. “Still good though.”

“They finally put us on a mission together.” Karma informs him.

Nagisas head snaps up at the news, interest piqued. “Really? When? Who is it?” He practically climbs over the table to steal a glance at Karmas phone. He left his own back in the classroom.

The JAA constantly scolds them for keeping important information on their phones, but they have trust in Ritzu’s skills. Who’s gonna get past a sentient computer program hellbent on keeping her classmates safe in any way she can?

She may have had a rough start with the class, but she’s an absolute sweetheart, so it didn’t take long for everyone to warm up to her.

Karma decides, in classic Karma fashion, to be a jerk, and in the blink of an eye he’s gotten up from his seat, phone held high above his head.

“Come on Karma! Just show me.” He complains, all but climbing the taller boy for the phone.

Karma lets out one of his trademarked manic laughs and makes a run for it. “Goddamn it Karma!” Nagisa shouts and gives chase.

Good thing they already paid.

It’s exhilarating, running across rooftops again, and with Karma no less. It’s been far too long since they hung out like this.

Unknowingly his expression softens to a sickeningly fond smile.

To the pedestrians below, the two are but a blur, as Karma makes a stupidly risky jump with ease and Nagisa follows without hesitation. They’ve don’t this a thousand times before and they’ll do it an infinite number of times again.

Nagisa wouldn’t have it any other way.

He spots it a fraction of a second before Karma does, and they skid to a stop on the edge of one of the higher up roofs.

A hero with the ability to fly chasing some maniac through the sky. It isn’t a world they’ll ever be part of. Nagisa thinks that’s more than fine.

Karma finally decides he’s had enough of messing with him and hands over his phone.

“Oh.” Nagisa voices when his eyes skim over the details of the assignment.

Karma sends him a smirk, one that Nagisa returns all too easily.

—

Izuku is… worried.

Chapter Text

Izuku was just this side of delirious from stress. Nervous mumblings escaped him as he made his way towards the designated area.

He’d never thought he’d make it here, but he had to do this. He had to get in.

All Might was counting on it. It’s fine he can do this!

And then he trips.

What was he thinking, he’s an idiot and a clutz, entirely unfit to be a hero. He’s going to face plant and die of shame before he even makes it to the exam.

But he doesn’t.

“Are you OK?” He hears a light giggle from beside him.

—

Karma has never been, nor has he ever pretended to be a patient person.

He can wait when it suits him, can dull the ever present urge to hurt and hunt and terrify, but only when it’s for a reason. Only when the satisfaction of a job well done is a promised reward.

It’s easier to wait with Nagisa by his side.

Nagisa is what stereotypical assassins are portrayed as. Calm, patient, precise and most certainly deadly. Not that the common rabble would know it. Nagisa is so beautifully absent. An empty space in the room.

Nagisa can joke and laugh and smile and bring about an air of calm that Karma never could. His smiles a touch too sharp, movements a tad too predatory; unnerving and odd.

Karma doesn’t fit the way that Nagisa pretends to.

Nagisa is invisible to those who are deemed outsiders, but Karma is anything but.

Karma sees all of Nagisa just as the rest of their class does. No pretence of being a normal teenager, because Nagisa is a killer. Born and raised.

People have said they are talent versus skill.

They are wrong.

Nagisa is undeniably talented, just as Karma is undeniably skilled, but that does not take away from the fact that Nagisa is also skilled just as Karma is also talented.

Talent is a quality in stasis; it takes you as far as it can and never further.

Nagisa was so talented, made for killing some would say, and Karma would agree. But Nagisa worked hard. He got better and better and just didn’t stop, how could Karma possibly not join him?

Karma and Nagisa, Nagisa and Karma.

Karma wouldn’t accept any place aside from one right next to Nagisa, behind him was preposterous and ahead of him impossible.

Nagisa would follow and exceed, Karma would do the same.

A morbid sort of dance that left Karma reeling at its intensity.

That horrifying boredom, that never ending apathy felt so far removed from him, so much so that Karma could barely remember what it was like before 3-E. It couldn’t possibly get to him anymore.

No. Karma wasn’t patient. But if Nagisa and the rest of his class were beside him then perhaps he could afford to slow down for just a little while.

Maybe Karma could allow himself this little shard of humanity that had lodged itself into his heart and carved out a hole the same shape as this class full of outcasts, and one particularly dangerous bluette.

—

“I can’t believe I made it!” Izuku exclaims. The boy is sprawled over the table in relief, narrating the story of the UA entrance exam.

Nagisa is entirely disgusted at how easy the exam sounded.

But then again-

Ah.

Nagisa just remembered something that he tries not to think about. Izuku is a nice person, really, and Nagisa is happy to play at being friends with him. It’s great practice for acting normal, though Nagisa hasn’t been too subtle with the green eyed boy.

But fact of the matter is that, Izuku is pathetic.

It’s nothing personal, truly. Nagisa kind of doubts anyone outside of his class or teachers will ever be capable of holding his attention for long.

Nagisa isn’t sure what it was about Izuku that intrigued him so, but he’s growing bored of it. It’s still there, but Nagisa doesn’t care to pry anymore.

He thinks he’ll still stay friends with Izuku though. He isn’t looking to destroy what little remains of this boy’s confidence after all.

“I had no idea there were rescue points-“ Izuku continues his story. Nagisas gaze drifts to the left. Is he going to stay hidden the whole time? Nagisa doubts it.

Just as he thinks that Karma saunters over with a smirk. Was he just waiting for Nagisa to look at him?

“Yo Nagisa!” He calls as if they hadn’t arrived together.

Izuku startles at the introduction of a new voice. He glances at Karma and all but withers away at the sight of him.

Nagisa doesn’t bother to do anything about it, it’s just how normal people react to Karma. Perhaps they instinctively know that danger has arrived. But then again, Karma likes to observe a little before making his grand entrance. By the time he deems it fit to reveal himself, danger will have been there for a while.

Perhaps it’s something in his eyes.

Nagisa quite likes the redhead’s eyes.

“Is this the new friend you told us about?” Karma continues cheerfully, ignoring Izuku who’s trying his very best to merge with the booth, back to the corner, and his whole body tense with nerves.

Why did he want to be a hero again?

“Yes, this is Izuku Midoriya, and Izuku this is Karma Akabane.” He makes the introduction short for Izuku’s benefit.

“Umm… nice to meet you Akabane-san.”

In typical Karma fashion he decides to ignore Izuku until he feels like acknowledging him. “Oh? Did he tell you that, or did you convince him into thinking he told you that?” Karma teases, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, and head bent low into Nagisa’s personal space so Izuku can’t make out the words.

Nagisa rolls his eyes and playfully pushes the other away.

“That hardly matters,” He says, “now are you going to stop ignoring Izuku or are you going to make this awkward just for the hell of it?”

It’s already awkward for Izuku, that much Nagisa can tell.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance Midoriya. Do call me Karma, I’m not overly fond of my family name.” He says with a mock bow. A shallow one, where his head still remains above Izuku’s.

Not that that’s much of a challenge. Karma is tall, as he likes to remind Nagisa, and Izuku is not (still taller than Nagisa). Not to mention that the green haired boy is sitting down.

“Uh- okay Karma…” Izuku stutters out.

A silence falls over them. Karma is doing it on purpose, and Nagisa isn’t inclined to try and soften the blows for Izuku. He’ll survive.

Probably.

“How do you know Nagisa?” Izuku tries again to open a conversation.

“We’re classmates.” He grins cheekily and doesn’t elaborate allowing another silence to take over the table.

Karma is still standing, and Nagisa doesn’t try getting him to sit. It’s clearly another intimidation attempt.

Izuku seems to have all but forgotten that he could talk to Nagisa instead. It’s to be expected. Nagisa has always had an easy time slipping into the background.

“So.. umm- how long have you known her?”

That’s what does it, and leaves Karma cackling like the maniac he is. “It seems you forgot something rather important Blueberry.” Karma turns his attention back to Nagisa, much to Izuku’s relief and confusion.

“It would seem so.” Nagisa sighs in agreement. Turning to Izuku, who seems to have remembered he was also in the room, he says in the most matter of fact voice he can: “I’m not a girl.”

Another bout of cackling arises from Karma at the face Izuku makes. His eyes wide and blinking rapidly, and his mouth frozen in a slightly open position.

Deeming himself done playing with Izuku, Karma plops down next to Nagisa.

“Oh…” Izuku seems to have gone into shock, but makes a valiant attempt at shrugging it off. “So- you two aren’t… dating?”

Izuku himself is the one that cringes at the question, leaving the other two occupants of the table to stare on in vague amusement.

“And why not?” Karma asks, throwing his arm around Nagisa’s shoulders playfully. Maybe Nagisa should protest, but Karma is doing a great job at making Izuku less boring.

“Oh! No, no! There’s nothing w- um it’s entirely alright if you are! Great even! If it makes you… um… happy?” The end sounds more like a question, but Izuku is trying his best, and purely for that he pinches Karma when the other looks ready to tease the boy again.

“Well, it was fun getting to know you, but Nagisa and I have somewhere to be.” Karma makes to stand up, pulling Nagisa with him.

Nagisa raises a brow in question, and Karma answers with a grin.

“Sorry to leave you so suddenly, but there is indeed somewhere we need to be.” Nagisa confirms Karmas statement.

“No that’s entirely fine! Um- bye!” Izuku says with a small wave.

Nagisa only sends a smile and follows after Karma.

Nagisa likes to play these games, but in the end none of it changes the fact that given the choice he will always choose the same path.

Nagisa and Izuku are not of the same world. Izuku isn’t close enough to him to know all the secrets he holds, and he never will be.

That is a simple fact.

Oh.

He forgot to clarify that he and Karma aren’t dating.

—

The most shocking thing about that meeting should have been that he’d been mis-gendering Nagisa for a little under a month.

It should have been the most shocking thing.

Instead it was overshadowed by Nagisa’s classmate. Meeting eyes with him had been the single most terrifying experience of his life.

Scarier than the nervousness before the exam, scarier than the sludge villain, scarier even than facing the zero pointer and shattering his limbs.

And it made no sense.

Karma hadn’t even done anything, and yet the atmosphere in the little diner was that of doom.

Nagisa had seemed entirely unaffected though.

Nagisa had told him that her- his quirk was some sort of sensing of danger. He had tried to remind himself of that in the moment. That Nagisa surely wouldn’t be dating someone dangerous.

But a gut feeling told him that Karma was most definitely dangerous.

Not to Nagisa though.

Once Karma sat down next to him it was like he’d imagined the whole thing.

That didn’t do anything to dull his fear though. Stories of serial killers who would commit atrocities only to return to a loving family with no intention to ever harm them flashing across his mind.

No.

Izuku stopped that thought right as it formed. He couldn’t label someone he just met a murderer just because he got nervous around them.

He couldn’t quite bring himself to forget it though. Even now that he’s walking towards UA itself, with the knowledge that he’s part of the hero course! The thought simmered at the back of his head, but he couldn’t do anything about it.

He’s a bit concerned at the unnecessarily loud screams coming from the classroom, but he braced himself and opened the door.

This was his hero academia.

—

“I applied for UA” Itona says when Nakamura asks him where he’s going.

“Excuse me, you did what?” Is Nagisa’s first question.

“Didn’t classes start an hour ago?” Was his second.

Chapter Text

Izuku has heard of assassins before. Of course he has, there’s movies with them shown, usually they’re portrayed as big scary guys wearing all black and with crazed eyes.

“What’s that?” Little Izuku had asked his mother.

“That’s an assassin, a villain who kills people on request in exchange for money.” She had answered

But Izuku hadn’t understood. He still doesn’t. Why would someone do that? Why end a life if it’s not even tied to your own emotions.

Izuku had heard of assassins, but listening to their teacher talk about them like they were something inevitable was somehow disheartening.

“Assassins use a myriad of different methods to kill someone, though even if they have a strong preference for one they are still highly skilled at most every other method.

The deadliest thing about an assassin is how easy it is to underestimate them.

They’re all different, but all exceptionally skilled at stealth.

The only thing that all good assassins have in common, is that once they lock onto a target, the target will never again know safety until either they or the assassin is dead. Usually it’s the former.”

“Aizawa-sensei why are you telling us this?” Asui asks curiously.

“Because the curriculum intends for us to breach the topic in third year, and quite frankly that’s too little too late.” The man answers gruffly.

“What’s the big deal anyway? They can’t be that different from regular villains. I I see one I’ll kill em!” Kacchan barks out with vigour, only to be met with the most disappointed gaze Izuku has ever seen. If he had to guess, he’d assume Aizawa was trying to forward a message along the lines of ‘what did I just say brat, if you see one, then you’ll be the one that ends up dead. Keyword being ‘if’’.

But that’s only guesswork of course.

With a long suffering sigh Aizawa continues with the lecture, “first thing you ought to know is that assassins are in fact,” a sharp look sent Kacchan’s way, “quite different from regular villains.

First difference being that they don’t use their quirks.”

“HUUUH!?” Kacchan roars looking entirely outraged by the idea, “if they’re gonna be villains anyway then why wouldn’t they use their quirks?!?” The murderous look on his face makes Izuku want to fidget nervously.

Izuku, in truth is just as confused, why wouldn’t they-

Oh.

“Because they’re not villains.” He startles at his own voice. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

“The hell do you mean Deku?” Kacchan snaps.

Aizawa cuts in with his signature tired drawl, “Midoriya is right. By definition, a villain refers to an individual who uses their quirk in a public space without a permit, for self gain or with the intent to cause harm.”

Kacchan goes silent and Izuku pointedly turns his gaze away from the blonde.

“The second thing that sets them apart from villains is that they belong to an organisation. From that little we’ve gathered on them, they go by JAA, by our best guess it’s short for ‘Japanese Assassination Alliance’ or ‘Association’.

Though that’s only the branch that operates in Japan. The worldwide acronym is-“

—

Karma was getting impatient. The notification about the joint mission had gotten him all excited, only to find out that he had to wait until some villain attack that was still being coordinated. Hurry up already!

How hard can it be to attack some heroes?

That’s not even mentioning how weird Itona and Ritzu have been acting. It started before Itona’s decision to go to UA, but they’d just chalked it up to their general weirdness.

It had started with Itona sneaking off every other day, and Ritzu being coincidentally offline at the exact same times.

In hindsight they’d definitely been up to something.

Well whatever, they’ll tell the rest of them when it matters.

More importantly, Karma is itching to fight beside Nagisa again. It’s been far too long since they were in the middle of chaos they themselves created, side by side, covered in the blood of those unfortunate enough to cross their path. If Nagisa were careless enough to get blood on him that is.

Truly, the most romantic of scenarios.

Maybe Karma should just ask Nagisa out on a date instead? That would certainly be interesting. But Karma wasn’t in the mood for that today. A study session? Throwing ideas at Nagisa was always fun, but Karma wanted a fight.

He could already feel the cheeky grin spreading across his face as he weaved his way past Kayano and Nakamura to where he spotted a head of blue hair.

“Nagisa~ let’s spar!” He singsongs in a way that’s sure to earn him a fond eyeroll.

“Karma,” the other says in that tone that’s reserved specifically for him, it makes his grin all that much sharper.

The moment Karma mentioned the word spar Nagisa went on high alert, fully aware that Karma plays dirty, and entirely ready to give as good as he gets.

When it comes to fighting, Nagisa’s preferences are more alike with the girls’ in that he doesn’t like being messy, entirely different from Karma who likes to ‘play with his food’ if you will.

But when he’s pushed into a corner, as Karma loves to do, he becomes a wild animal, clawing and scratching and punching exactly where he knows it will hurt. Karma almost shudders - whether it’s in excitement or dread is up for interpretation - at the reminder that Nagisa is studying pressure points.

Karma moves without warning, but Nagisa doesn’t need one. The other tries twisting around Karma to get a swipe at his back, but Karma manages to grab onto his arm before he reaches it.

Using his hold on Nagisa, the redhead flings the smaller boy at the wall with as much force as he can, only for Nagisa to twist his legs around Karmas midsection, successfully pulling him along to where he can bring both his elbows down on Karmas skull with strength you wouldn’t expect from someone of his stature.

Not that Karma expected anything less.

It leaves Karmas ears ringing in a way that’s rather uncomfortable. He’s probably going to have a concussion, but Nagisa won’t apologise and Karma doesn’t want him to.

Nagisa will most likely just drag him to the on duty healer and then have his own injuries looked at.

But not yet. Karma isn’t done yet.

—

Ritzu, no matter what some may think, is a human. The fact that she (not ‘it’) cannot bleed, or hurt, or breathe is entirely irrelevant.

For the longest time her whole world consisted of her friends and the teacher who gave her free will. The teacher who gave her a heart.

When Korosensei died something broke.

That was supposed to be it, she was supposed to be shut off until her services were needed once more. But Korosensei had bought her freedom, had used the last of his earnings from his assassin days and used it for her.

Korosensei was the reason for her existence, both its beginning and its continuation.

Itona was her friend.

He too had joined the class later than the rest.

At first she’d been skeptical if she could go to him with the information she found, but Itona by all accounts was the most logical person to trust with this.

Because loathe as she is to admit it, there are things she just can’t do on her own. Those things mostly include tasks that require opposable thumbs.

She… didn’t want to give the others false hope. It would be a heartless thing to do, and Ritzu has a heart, never mind that it doesn’t beat.

Itona was the best choice, and so far he’d done everything to prove her right. He’d signed up for UA for the ease of access to information and materials that the JAA was too stingy to provide to students. Screw them.

So far it was going great, the support course was ideal for the two of them. Itona had a talent for inventing and building, and Ritzu could easily fill in any blanks he encountered.

Although…

There was an unfortunate quality which he’d picked up from Korosensei.

In his attempt to emulate their teacher’s unbelievable strength Itona had taken to copying all his mannerisms.

Including his perversion.

“We’re not making that” Ritzu declares.

“Why not?”

“Just look at it!”

“I think it’s a great hero costume.” Itona says with a straight face.

Possibly the worst part is that Ritzu is all too certain that Itona doesn’t actually have such strong carnal desires, he’s just convinced himself that he has to act like this.

The first year support classes have been put in charge of making the first year hero student’s costumes, because ‘The pros hardly have the time to make costumes for every hero student. We’ll look them over to make sure you haven’t made anything actively dangerous to the wearer but otherwise you’re on your own.’.

The point of conflict they’re stuck on is that of a girl from 1A. Her quirk allows her to create just about anything, but for it she requires to have bare skin.

Ritzu finds that the limitations of such  a quirk have resulted in the girl submitting a rather… unfortunate design.

This was going to be a long day.

Chapter Text

Nagisa doesn’t regret anything. The choices he’s made have led him here; with his entire class to together for the foreseeable future, healthy and safe.

—

“Alright brats, now that we’ve gotten your acting skills to a decent enough level… well most of you anyway,” If Terasaka is affected by the comment, he doesn’t show it, “we’re going to move onto the next thing.” Bitch-sensei starts the lesson.

“Remember the infiltration mission where I distracted the guards?” She inquiries.

“The one where you played piano? Yeah, that was surprisingly cool of you.” Kayano remembers.

“The hell do you mean surprisingly!”

Their teacher’s outburst goes ignored.

“So we’re going to be learning piano?” Kanzaki wonders out loud.

Bitch-sensei shakes her head, “not necessarily, we’re going to be learning performance arts in general. By the end of the week I want you all to have chosen at least one such skill to master.

We’ll focus mostly on that for this month, and afterwards you’ll do self study while we move onto the next topic. Of course you can still come to me if you get stuck on something.”

Kanzaki pipes up again, “I already know how to play violin.”

“Have you mastered it? Is not then you still have something to work on. And if anyone else wants to choose violin then you can help them.” Is the merciless answer she receives. The girl slumps in disappointment of not being able to slack off for the month.

“Yuki! Could help me learn violin? I’ve always wanted to try!” Kayano asks cheerfully.

Nagisa tunes out the rest of the conversation in favour of trying to pick a skill to work on.

Most of the class will likely pick something musical in nature, as it’s the most flexible in all types of situations.

“What’re you gonna choose?” Karma asks enthusiastically swinging his arm around Nagisa’s shoulders the way he’s become rather fond of doing lately.

“I’m not sure,” Nagisa admits, “probably some instrument.”

“I’m gonna ask Bitch-sensei if becoming a magician counts.” He admits with a grin.

Nagisa raises an eyebrow, and Karma answers the unvoiced question with a shrug, “I searched up what’s counted under performance arts and illusion tricks was listed. Dunno bout you but singing and dancing doesn’t exactly fit my image.” He explains playfully.

Nagisa scoffs, “what image? You’re legally dead.”

Karma lets out an amused cackle “I know! It’s wonderful how much we have in common!” He teases right back.

“Who’s going to bring Itona notes of todays lesson?” Okuda asks all of a sudden.

“I can do it!,” Nakamura volunteers enthusiastically, “I’ve been wanting to see what he’s up to anyway; it’s gotta be something cool if he’s keeping it from the rest of us!”

“Can I come with? The outsiders are always hyping up UA, I wanna know what the big deal is!” Hinano asks expectantly.

“Or-,” Ritzu cuts them off, “I can just send him the files I made.”

“Nope!” Nakamura denies her quickly. “I said I’m going first! Ya snooze ya loose!”

—

It started out just as they’d expected it to. The UA security system was impressive, but with the school being as large as it was, there was bound to be an oversight, it was just a matter of finding it.

In the end their break in was rather underwhelming; for a school that many deemed impenetrable, it took an embarrassingly short amount of time to wriggle in. Twenty seven minutes to be precise.

It would’ve taken less time were they not trying to be discreet, that’s not saying much considering that “the media” broke in just a while back.

Nagisa can’t help but wonder if that’s just a cover story, or if the heroes are truly so clueless.

What made this mission so interesting (aside from being paired up with Karma) was that they had ten whole targets. They weren’t too high up on the danger level, but they weren’t exactly newbie level either. A solid in between.

They made themselves comfortable on a beam in the ceiling they wait for the villains to arrive.

And arrive they did, just as their information promised.

Nagisa noticed Izuku in the group of herolings but focused on scanning for his targets instead.

When the misty villain spread not only the hero students but also the villains across the facility he could tell this was going to be a headache.

Fighting alongside Karma had always been satisfying in a way that Nagisa couldn’t quite explain. Perhaps it was how easy everything seemed, the likelihood of them both losing just seemed impossible.

When there was only one target left they split up to cover more area.

Somehow Nagisa ended up back where the hero teacher was fighting the villains; absentmindedly he noted that Izuku and a couple of his classmates had made their way back as well.

And then that thing showed up.

—

Hot white pain shot through Shouta’s entire body when the thing attacked him. It probably would have been worse, had the thing managed to pin him down the way its body language suggested was its plan, if the thing were capable of planning that is.

But as soon as it- the ‘nomu’ had attacked, something distressingly child sized had hurled itself into it.

When Shouta got his mind to cooperate and vision to clear, his fears were proven true. A child, no older than his students (heavens, his students) was right on top of the nomu… repeatedly stabbing its exposed brain.

“NAGISA!” comes a shout from a redhead boy, about the same age as the first one. The boy —Nagisa— does not react to his friend calling for him.

Shouta wants to- should move to get these children away from here, but something in their… general being, has him frozen in place. “Nagisa, we need to go.” The redhead speaks with a surprisingly even voice despite the anxious undertone, just barely noticeable (why does a child know how to hide his emotions so well?).

“That thing needs to die.” Nagisa speaks for the first time, and Shouta is taken aback by the sheer amount of venom with which the blue eyed boy spits those words. “You can tell, can’t you? You can- you know why. It has to- It needs to- I’m going to kill it.”

“I know. Okay. Kill it, but quickly.” The redhead agrees.

Shouta looks away.

Something is seriously wrong.

He only looks again when the two have left, his students are slowly making their way back. They’re, for the most part, unharmed. That’s all that Shouta can hope to ask for.

He shamefully ignores the look of absolute dread and horror on Midoriya’s face for the time being.

As long as they’re alive.

—

Those eyes will haunt Izuku forever.

Chapter Text

Sometimes Nagisa wonders what Karma is waiting for, and then he remembers that Karma never waits. He just keeps moving on and on without stopping so much as to breathe.

But Karma is like a fish in that sense, he needn’t worry about breathing, because it’s stopping that would kill him.

And so Nagisa will wait so Karma doesn’t have to, because the redhead is a part of Nagisa in a way that Nagisa isn’t a part of Karma. Karma built himself into a person and then slotted Nagisa where he best fit, where as Nagisa built himself without ever taking his eyes off of Karma until the image of him was burned into his very being.

Perhaps it wasn’t quite as intense as Nagisa was describing, because they were still separate entities, though Nagisa suspected that Karma would enjoy such intensity and then match it with his own. And maybe that exactly was why they were made for each other.

Even before the E-class there had been Karma and Nagisa, where both had learned companionship through fear of one another, of what the other could do to them but didn’t, because they had also learned trust.

And Izuku was cute, but he would not understand the calmness of standing side by side with someone who could and would slit your throat, being stopped only by their fondness of you. And he could not give as good as he got.

Nagisa and Karma would always be together, and they would never have to doubt that they cared for each other, because if they didn’t then the world wouldn’t survive them clashing.

So here they were, calmly walking across the support beams near the ceiling of the frankly ridiculous building.

Nagisa snatched Karmas phone from his pocket as the other assassin had decided it would be funny to hide his somewhere. He huffed lightly when he saw that the battery was low, leave it to Karma to be so careless right before a mission.

This was an interesting one in the sense that the deaths didn’t necessarily matter. This wasn’t a grudge or the elimination of a rival. It was very simply put, a power play.

Assassinations were expensive, even the non hero ones. Regular civilians would need to save up money for a months for a single kill.

Many people would die tonight, all for the sake of some weirdos big plan to show off that he had the money to pull off ridiculous feats, and that he wasn’t shy about killing to achieve whatever big goal he had. In all honesty it seemed quite sketchy, but they weren’t privy to the details, they were only students after all.

It was moments like this that made him want to go rogue or overthrow the JAA along with his classmates. Most of them would be aboard and those who weren’t would come around easily enough.

Nagisa fondly remembered the last lesson they’d been in. Bitch-sensei, having been given free rein of their education had decided it was time they learned something akin to her mastery of the piano, which is helpful as a cover story. In private he thought she just wanted them to have some semblance of a life outside of being killers for hire like she did.

Seeing everyone choice of skill to practice had reminded Nagisa just how different they all were. Karma had immediately looked for the most obscure performance arts he could find, eventually settling on becoming a magician, while Terasaka had picked… the triangle. If there was one thing that guy was good at, then it was finding the simplest, most brain dead way to do things. In his defence though, it seemed to be working for him quite well.

Even now Karma was shuffling a deck of cards, and Nagisa wouldn’t be surprised if he found a way to hide weapons in any and all magician gear he ended up getting.

Nagisa himself wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to choose.

He paused his musings momentarily as he found a good vantage point of most of the building. Sitting down on the edge of the beam, letting his feet dangle over it he took out a scrap of paper and started sketching a simple layout, marking all the exits and hiding spots he could see.

He’d briefly considered acrobatics, but he wasn’t Karma, no matter how much his mind liked to lump them together as if they were. It was always Karma and Nagisa, Nagisa and Karma. Picking something obscure like he did didn’t feel right, though he would’ve had a headway into the skill with his personalised training that focused more on ease of movement, speed and precision.

Nagisa could feel the right answer niggling in the corners of his brain, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it just yet.

His gaze flew to the main entryway as it opened, students filing in, packed tightly together. Safety in numbers he supposes, but they wouldn’t be hard to separate, at which point they’d panic due to the surprise and their lack of experience, making them easy pickings—

He snapped out of it as he sensed Karma smirking at him knowingly. He didn’t show an outward reaction that he’d gotten in the zone again, but Karma knew regardless. The redhead seemed to like Nagisa’s silly habit of making murder plans, meanwhile Nagisa himself was yet again frustrated at the lack of control he had of his own mind.

Only moments later did a swirling black gateway sort of thing appear, out of which stepped who Nagisa supposed would be the ringleader, and he was quickly followed by a whole armada of lackeys. Their targets.

Thankfully they had no need to kill each and every one, so he and Karma quickly huddled close to one another and started picking and choosing the ones they would fit their needs. Nagisa hated these sorts of jobs, not only were they instructed to perform the kills in this building, which is heavily monitored, but they also had to choose the particular targets themselves, because the client apparently ‘didn’t care’.

Nagisa understands the need to send a message that can only effectively be send through people dying, but he still resented not being able to stalk his target a bit, and figure out the cleanest way to go about doing his job.

He knew Karma loved jobs like this though, and so did Terasaka. Terasaka would have been an overall better fit for this job, but even if it was offered to switch Nagisa probably wouldn’t. It’s been far too long for his liking since he worked together with Karma.

Mental lists in check, they waited for the right moment to strike. While Nagisa had been surveying the building, Karma had secured their way down to the floor. The moment came as the man with the portal quirk separated everyone across the building, the villains and hero students alike, stumbling through the other side, disoriented from the sudden change.

The moment Nagisa’s feet hit the ground he sprinted for his first target, a woman, Chisato, with what seemed to be extra joints just about everywhere on her body, making her uncomfortably flexible. He snuck up behind her and slashed at her tendons, as she fell forward with a yelp he grabbed her head, pulling it back towards him and slit her throat. She was dead before she hit the floor.

He dashes for the next few targets, three brothers, who were huddled together in a group. Positioning himself behind a fallen bit of fake buildings he grabbed the gun off his belt and loaded it, the clicking might give his position away so he has to be quick. He fires three times, one hits in the forehead, one in the heart, but the third one only gets the knee of the last villain. Taking advantage of the villains surprise, Nagisa crowds him and stabs him twice in quick succession, puncturing both lungs.

His next target puts up a fight, seemingly having a higher pain tolerance as a side effect of his quirk it seems, but once Nagisa manages to blind him it’s easy to strike for the heart.

So he goes, for what feels like forever, only keeping track of the number of people he’s already killed because of the mental list off of which he’s crossing names. He spots Karma a few times and notes with exasperation that The redhead is splattered with blood again. Nagisa adds a mental reminder to himself to put his gear in the wash when they get back.

When there is only one name left on Nagisas list he scales up a wall to a height at which he can see better where she might be, only to find Karma already there, seemingly having had the same idea. They share with each other knowing smiles, and huddle close again to murmur each others targets in case the other has or will see them while searching for their own.

Karma had apparently spotted Nagisas target near the entrance, but Nagisa unfortunately had not seen Karmas. So off they went in different directions. “Come find me when you’re done. I’ll stick near the entrance.” Nagisa instructs his partner before they part ways.

He spots her fighting with Eraserhead, though it’s more of a one sided beat down, which is even more pathetic considering the villains were ganging up on the hero. Maybe Eraserhead is one of the cool heroes after all.

With his newfound respect for the man Nagisa opts to use his gun so as not to disturb the man while he’s fighting. Though, he supposes seeing one of the people he’s fighting die might disturb him anyway. Regardless, Nagisa loads the gun and fires.

The woman drops like her strings had been cut and Eraserheads surprise is only seen through the further tensing of his muscles.

Nagisa decides that there’s not much point in hiding now so he mounts the rubble he had been hiding behind and sits himself down comfortably, content to enjoy the show. He notices Izuku a little bit further, trying to reach his teacher, completely overlooking Nagisa who is in plain sight. He sighs and shakes his head, only a little judgmentally.

He idly fidgets with his knife and wonders when Karma will get here.

But then suddenly the battle shifts…

Something appears.

That thing.

How dare.

Who did this?

Who made this?

Who?

Who? Who?

Who does Nagisa kill for daring to do this?

Did they learn nothing the last time around?

Before he registers it his grip on the knife tightens and he’s moving to where the thing has Eraserhead pinned and broken like a rag doll.

—

Shota is unsure if he’ll survive this, it feels as if every bone in his body is broken and he might have a concussion.

Just then a blur of blue tackles the creature (because surely it’s not a person-) holding him down and Shota makes a valiant effort to drag his broken body somewhere out of the way.

He’d realised there was an assassin present but hadn’t had time to worry about it. Now as he turns to look at the small (why are they so small??) figure viciously attack at the creature. Why is the assassin helping Shota? The woman who’s mutation quirk had been giving him some trouble, he’d figured that was simply the target, but now watching the fury in the little (so little) assassins face, perhaps it was a little more personal than that.

But Shota is far too out of it right now to be crafting theories. The creature throws the young (too young-) assassin off of him with concerning force, but thankfully the kid (kid!) manages to spin himself into a high speed roll over the shoulder.

And then Shoutas blood pressure increases again as the tiny killer runs right back towards the creature.

Thankfully another, slightly larger assassin (if their matching outfits are to be believed) catches him and seems to be calming the thrashing kid down. Unfortunately for Shota, he catches a glimpse of the bigger assassins face and realises with dread that it’s also only a child.

He has to ignore the horrible implications of this.

He has to get himself together.

He has to somehow, even with his broken body, protect his students.

He has to try.

—

“Nagisa, calm down.” Karma whispers in his ear, not flinching when that earns him an elbow to the stomach.

“Calm down? Are you and I seeing the same thing right now??! I have to kill it!” Nagisa downright hisses at his friend.

“I’m not saying don’t kill it, I’m saying calm down and then kill it when you’re in control of yourself.” Karma soothes, which sounds wrong coming from him of all people.

It’s that wrongness that finally snaps Nagisa out of his rage. He takes a trembling breath and clutches at his knife like it’s a lifeline. He notes that while he’d been out of it he’d gotten some of the things blood on himself. He wrinkles his nose in disgust before shaking the feeling off and gives Karma a determined nod which the other assassin returns.

He sees the redheads own anger in those eyes, and he silently promises to act on its behalf, adding it to his own anger.

Then he’s off again, this time without the haze of fury clouding his mind he calculates where to strike. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Eraserhead trying to do… something. It’s hard to tell with how much the injuries are limiting the man.

He decides that maybe he won’t kill Eraserhead, even if he’s hired to. If someone gathers the obscene amount needed and actually picks Eraserhead out of the crowd that is.

Nagisa reaches the thing and jumps.

He lands squarely on its chest, which doesn’t even make it stumble. He clutches at its head with his left arm for balance and drives a knife into its exposed brain with the right.

When he removes it however, it immediately begins regenerating and Nagisa scoffs with annoyance. He dodged one of its hands as it grabs for him.

He places his knife back on his belt momentarily and digs his fingers into its brain instead, prying and pulling like it’s a battery to be removed. It comes out with a sickening squelch and Nagisa falls backwards with the momentum of it.

When he hits the ground he immediately scrambled back on his feet, knife in hand again and the brain discarded somewhere to his left, in case the thing attacks again despite lacking a vital organ.

It turns out to be unnecessary however as it falters and falls forward. Nagisa dodges it’s falling body and pauses to catch his breath for a moment.

He faintly hears the ringleaders screeching in the background but doesn’t pay it any mind. His eyes are fixated of a little heroling that’s paused trying to help his teacher.

The look on Izuku’s face is just about everything he’d expected it to be if ever he found out who Nagisa really was. It’s the reason why their friendship couldn’t have lasted.

He turns back around and heads back to where Karma is waiting without a second thought.

—

Izuku will never forget those eyes.

Chapter Text

Izuku finds himself at odds with what he thought he knew and what he definitely knows now.

Nagisa is kind and friendly.

Nagisa is a murderer.

It all comes down to that duality in the end, because surely one of those has to be a lie.

How could a murderer be someone like Nagisa?

How could Nagisa be a murderer?

And why would Nagisa live a life like that? Was he forced? Threatened?

How could Nagisa, who showed concern for a total stranger, who became his first friend in years, who visited his sick mother, smiled like any other teenager, encouraged him when he was feeling down, be the same Nagisa he saw that day. With blood smeared on him and a cold look in his eyes, one that said he didn’t regret a thing.

A knife clutched in his hand.

He remembered overhearing the heroes who showed up a little after Nagisa and Karma left, stating the number of casualties. He can’t help but wonder how many were killed by that same knife.

He thinks back to when he’d first met the blue haired boy and pushes down the embarrassment that flares up at the reminder of what a blubbering mess he’d been. He remembers the blood he thought he imagined in a dehydrated delirium.

Except maybe he didn’t imagine it.

Maybe Nagisa had just come from… a job.

Because thinking back on it, Izuku hadn’t forgotten his water bottle. It was an All Might themed one, he wouldn’t forget it. He’d seen it in his bag when he got back home.

And thinking back again, Izuku had forgotten to ask Nagisa’s name, but he’d also forgotten to give his own, yet when they next met Nagisa had known it.

It’d been right there, and he’d missed it.

What kind of a hero does that?

It also explains the sense of unease he’d felt around Karma.

Karma who had immediately set off all his alarms, yet Izuku had ignored it because Nagisa trusted the guy. But that guy was a murderer just like Nagisa, and suddenly Izuku felt sick.

He grabbed his coat and phone and left the house. He needed a moment to breathe.

He didn’t know where he was going exactly but he just needed to get away.

There was no sounds but the passing cars in the distance and his own footfalls. If someone was following him, surely he’d hear their footsteps as well, and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling.

It was dark out and maybe that was making him paranoid, but he stopped at the next bench and took a seat.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and selected a number he didn’t think he would again. He felt a bit queasy before he pressed call and lifted the phone to his ear.

It rang and rang but no one answered.

When the call ended he left the phone call away from his ear, and took a deep breath, before turning to look behind himself.

It was the same Nagisa as before the USJ, but somehow not quite. Maybe it was just his new perspective on things, or maybe it was the newfound cruelty that seemed to cling to the edges of his carefree smile.

“Hi.”

Izuku remained silent as the other boy took a seat next to him.

“You called?” Nagisa jokes. Or at least Izuku thinks he’s joking.

“I wasn’t sure you’d answer.” Izuku says monotonely. Maybe he’s a little angry. At Nagisa or at himself, he’s not entirely sure.

Does he want their friendship to end? Or does he want to figure out how to keep it and not feel guilty about it?

“Don’t be silly, we’re friends, aren’t we?” It sounded almost challenging, and Izuku wondered if Nagisa had the same dilemma.

“Are we?”

The question hung in the air between them.

Nagisa’s smile vanished, leaving him looking angry, and despite his training Izuku felt a shiver go down his spine.

This was his maybe friend.

This was a danger he wasn’t prepared for.

When Nagisa next spoke, it was sharp and devoid of his usual warmth and gentleness, “I suppose not.”

The words cut at Izuku’s heart. “I thought we were.”

“I pretended we were, but this” he pauses to gesture at himself, “isn’t the Nagisa you wanted as a friend, is it?”

Then he smiles again and for a single moment Izuku forgets that the person sitting across from him is a murderer.

Because that’s Nagisa.

The one he thought he knew.

“This one is the Nagisa you met.” He said and the expression falls away into the cold one once again.

The tears fall before Izuku even notices that he’s crying. “What kind of a hero am I supposed to be?” He asks no one in particular.

“You’re a bad person Nagisa. You hurt people. You kill them, and I should hate you for it.” He says.

Nagisa blinks in something that might be surprise, “you know, I was getting bored of you.” He tells Izuku matter of factly, and Izuku tries not to let it hurt, “and then I saw you in the USJ. I knew then that our friendship would never survive my truth. But I realised that I cared for you even if you were boring.”

“What are you trying to say?” Izuku asks.

“Can’t we still be friends?” Nagisa wonders, “can’t you hate what I do, and still be my friend anyway?”

Izuku remains silent for a moment, and Nagisa continues, “I suppose I’d forgotten that friends don’t always need to be able to challenge you. You’re weak right now, but at the USJ I realised that you and I are similar in one way at least.”

Izuku tilts his head in confusion, “what way?”

Nagisa smiles, and Izuku wonders if this one is real, “you were made for saving people, just as I was made for killing people.”

Izuku shakes his head, “how can a person be made for something like killing? That’s horrible.”

“It’s really not that bad,” Nagisa frowns, “everyone dies eventually, what does it matter if we speed it along?”

“It matters because that’s a whole person gone from the world, and everyone they knew is left grieving!” Izuku exclaims at the careless comment before seeing the confusion in his friends face.

Nagisa genuinely doesn’t understand how what he’s doing is bad, Izuku realises. “Haven’t you ever lost someone you cared about?” He asks.

Nagisa smiles then, “yes.”

His eyes drift to look at the scenery around them. “I used to be a bit like you were before you went to UA, and then I met him, and he taught me so many things. I’ll never forget all that he did for me as my class.”

“He was your teacher?” Izuku asks.

Nagisa nods, “yes, the best one I’ve ever had.”

Izuku hesitates before asking, “how did he… die?”

Nagisa then looks him with a smile that’s sad and fond at the same time, Izuku suddenly fears the answer.

“I stabbed him in the heart while my classmates held him down.”

Horror shoots through Izuku’s veins, and he thinks it shows on his face, because Nagisa’s expression shutters into something guarded.

“You know, I thought your heart wasn’t strong enough to be a hero, to face the consequences of failing to save someone. I’ve changed my mind, you’re going to be a hero that the masses love.” He says, and it somehow sounds simultaneously like a compliment and an insult.

“You thought it was my heart holding me back? Not that I don’t have a quirk?” Izuku asks.

Nagisa looks exasperated then, “Izuku.” He says and turns to face him completely with a serious expression, “I don’t have a quirk either.”

Izuku absorbs that information for a bit, “oh.” He lets out, “I thought.”

“I know what you thought!” Nagisa exclaims rolling his eyes, but it seems almost fond. “Izuku you really need to learn to read between the lines. I wasn’t lying when I said I can tell when I’m in danger, but that’s just my training. I never said it was my quirk.” The other teen knocks on Izuku’s skull a couple times.

It feels just like friendly banter, even if it’s them unravelling the lies between them. Izuku thinks he quite likes it.

“I didn’t imagine the blood that day, did I?” He asks.

Nagisa shakes his head. “I wanted to see if anyone would notice, and when you did I wiped them off. If you check the wipes I gave you, they might have some blood on them still. I was a bit rushed.”

“And I didn’t forget my water.” Izuku states.

Nagisa shrugs, “I wouldn’t know, it’s not like I peeked into your bag.”

“And I didn’t tell me your name.”

This time Nagisa laughs, “I guess you didn’t. Honestly I forgot.”

And it’s such a human thing to do, to forget something like that, and Izuku doesn’t feel like throwing up anymore.

Any other hero probably wouldn’t be here right now, talking with a killer like nothings wrong.

He decides to ask the question that’s been whirling in his mind since a bit earlier, “why did you kill your teacher?”

Nagisa leans back in the bench.

“Do you remember when the moon was destroyed? It wasn’t an illusion.” He starts.

“Wha—“

“Let me finish!” Nagisa scolds. “Anyways, it was my teacher who did it. His powers were unstable, that’s why it happened. He would’ve destroyed the earth next. He came to teach us assassination, so we could stop him.”

“So you… didn’t want to?” Izuku asks, mind still scrambled from the information that the moon had actually been destroyed.

Nagisa tilts his head considering, “at first I did, then I didn’t, and in the end I did again.”

“That’s…confusing.” Izuku says.

Nagisa shrugs with a small smile, “it’s the truth.” He perks up again, “hey, speaking of teachers, how’s yours doing?”

Izuku goes blank at the mention of Aizawa-sensei. “Believe it or not, he’s still teaching us, even though he’s wrapped up in bandages like a mummy.”

Nagisa snorts, “I knew I liked him!”

“Really?” Izuku asks sceptically, “what is it with villains and liking Aizawa-sensei? I even heard that Shigaraki guy saying that he’s cool.”

“First of all, I’m technically not a villain,” Nagisa starts, “and second of all, he is cool.” He finishes with a shrug.

Izuku supposes that’s true, Aizawa-sensei is cool, when he isn’t on the floor in a bright yellow sleeping bag that is.

“Right, I should probably get going now.” Nagisa announces, standing up. “Let’s meet up again sometime, okay?”

Izuku nods, “yeah, okay.” He agrees, and maybe he’s imagining it but Nagisa seems to relax a bit, then he’s walking away, and Izuku can hear nothing but the cars in the distance.

—

Itona would like to be sleeping right about now, but he has work to do.

He nudges opens the door of the workshop and heads to the far back corner. He’s had this idea for a while now, but he can only really work on it when Ritzu is off somewhere else.

He left his phone back at the base just in case she tries to contact him.

He doesn’t like keeping secrets from the digital girl, but he wants to do something nice for her first birthday, and he wants it to be a surprise.

He startles when he notices the pink haired girl nosying about around his project. Thankfully he has nothing immediately deadly on him or he might just kill her if she’s messed with it.

“Oh! Is this yours? It’s amazing, though it would be more durable if you weren’t making it so human like.” She gushes.

Itona shakes his head a little petulant, “it’s supposed to look like someone in particular. It’s a gift.” He says.

“Oooh! That’s great! Can I help you with it? Please? Please? Please?” She immediately asks.

“No.” Itona says and pushes her aside to fully pull off the fabric covering his project.

He’s rather proud of it. It’s far more intricate and big than what he usually makes, preferring small but bulky designs for his creations.

“Oh come on, please! I’ve got so many ideas! And I can help fix the problems! You’re struggling to make the face expressive, right?” The girl insists.

Itona pauses, she’s right. He wants the bot to be expressive enough to be fitting of Ritsu and her bubbly nature, but nothing he’s tried has been quite right.

“What did you have in mind?” He relents.

She beams with joy, “oh we are going to get along great! Look out world! I’m Mei by the way! Mei Hatsume! And you?”

“…Itona.” He says.

“A pleasure to work with you Itona!” She cackles.

Chapter Text

Maijima liked to consider himself a strong and resilient man, he had to be, after all. In his years of being a pro hero and a teacher at UA he’d seen his fair share of prodigies walk into his workshop.

It wasn’t even unheard of to have two genius inventors in the same class! It’s why Maijima had allowed a false sense of security to fall over him.

The thing is, that when two prodigies meet, they tend to clash and form rivalries. And that’s all well and good! It can get chaotic at times, but that’s about what he signed up for when he came to work at UA of all places.

But seeing the two talents huddled together, whispering to each other like friends, like partners…

Maijima knew then and there that the world would not survive.

Hatsume on her own was a whirlwind of a person who tended to overlook any danger and risk in her quest to create more inventions than a factory could, but add to the mix Itona, who had sharp eyes and an unnerving feel to him, but a damning lack of concern for just about anything, and you had a ticking time bomb on your hands. Very possibly a real one.

Maijima liked to think he was a strong and resilient man, but in moments like this he doubted his resolve.

Chapter Text

“Midoriya, stay behind please.” Aizawa sensei says as the class is packing up their things, and Izuku has a creeping suspicion that he knows what the teacher wants to ask him.

Kacchan shoulders past him and out the door, and he’s left with no buffer for the upcoming conversation.

“Were you somehow familiar with the assassins who infiltrated the USJ?” Izuku flinches, he hadn’t expected Aizawa sensei to ask it so bluntly, though he should’ve guessed.

He shuffles awkwardly for a moment, and knows his silence is already giving away his answer. “Yes?” He eventually manages to say unsurely.

Aizawa sensei stiffens a bit, though it’s hard to spot with his bandaging. “I figured as much, from the expression I saw on your face. You weren’t aware of their… occupation?”

Izuku shakes his head vehemently. “I didn’t know.”

The teacher hums thoughtfully. “You’re no longer in contact with them, right?”

“No.” Izuku answers, perhaps a bit too fast, judging by the teachers pause after his panicked response.

“I see.” He accepts finally. “I’m sure you won’t forget just how dangerous these individuals are?”

“Yes sir.” Izuku mumbles, and thinks of Nagisa sitting on some random bench with him, and smiling in a way that made Izuku completely forget that sitting next to him was a killer. He thinks of Karma, with his unsettling gaze disappearing the moment he looked at Nagisa. And he thinks of Nagisa, covered in that monsters blood, looking at him like a predator looks at prey.

“If you ever wish to tell me anything, you can. UA has the recourses needed to protect its students. You’re safe here.” Aizawa sensei reassures him.

And yet, they’d gotten in before, along with a horde of villains.

Izuku stands there for a bit, thinking about the strange way his life is twisting and turning around him.

When Izuku saw Nagisa at the USJ he came to the startling realisation that not all monsters flaunt that they’re monsters. Some evils remain unknown to the public.

Nagisa is a bad person. The other boy might even agree with Izuku on that front, but Izuku doubts that Nagisa truly understands it. He may know it as a fact, but he doesn’t feel the evil he’s spreading in the world, he doesn’t see consequences beyond the cooling corpse of his kill.

Izuku feels kind of bad for not hating Nagisa.

He wonders, if the day ever comes, when his life is in danger, would he ask for Nagisa’s help, knowing full well that if the blue haired boy comes to his aid, he’ll leave nothing but bodies behind.

“Well, at least he tried.” A familiar voice pipes up from behind him.

Make that twice that they’ve gotten inside UA, he mentally corrects himself. “Nagisa, what are you doing here?” Izuku asks.

“I need advice.” The blue haired boy sheepishly answers, it’s only now that Izuku notices that Nagisa is in a UA uniform, though it’s a few sizes too big on him.

The assassin, noticing his confusion, explains. “I borrowed it from a friend, don’t worry too much about it.” He smiles.

Izuku decides to take the advice, because thinking about a very likely assassin in UA with everyone none the wiser, makes him nervous. He’ll probably be analysing everyone he meets now, trying to figure out who it is, though he knows it’s likely futile.

“What do you need advice on?” He asks instead.

“Karma. We’ve been dancing around it for a while now but I’m getting impatient. He hasn’t asked me out yet, so I’ll ask him instead.” Nagisa shrugs casually.

Izuku takes a moment to process what the other just told him, “I… thought you two were already together.”

“Yes I’m aware,” Nagisa waves him off flippantly, “that’s not the point. The point, is that I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do on a date.”

“You seem very certain that he’s going to say yes.” Izuku mutters.

Nagisa rolls his eyes, “of course he’ll say yes, he has a photo album purely dedicated to creepy stalker photos he’s taken of me.”

“That’s concerning.” Izuku deadpans, because if he takes even a moment longer to think about what his friend just told him, he might start hyperventilating.

“It’s expected. Now are you going to help me or not?”

Izuku feels a headache forming and decides it’s for the best if he just looks past everything concerning about his second ever friend.

Just as he’s about to tell Nagisa that he’s probably the last person to ask for romantic advice, the door slides open again and Izuku tenses.

“Oh, Midoriya! Hi!” Comes a bubbly greeting, in a sweet and friendly voice that Izuku is guilty of daydreaming about.

Uraraka bounces in with a kind smile and a curious glance at Nagisa. “You look familiar, have we met?” She asks.

“I’m not sure,” Nagisa tilts his head, looking all too innocent, “you look quite familiar too, though I suppose we do go to the same school.”

“That’s true!” Uraraka grins happily. “I’m Ochaco Uraraka, good to meet you.” She introduces.

“Shun Tanaka.” Nagisa offers, “feel free to just call me Shun.”

“In that case you can call me Ochaco, you too Midoriya!”

Izuku feels a flush creep up his neck and manages to stammer out that Ochaco should call him Izuku.

“Say Izuku, are you also very excited for the sports festival? I hope I do well enough to catch at least some heroes’ attention.” Ochaco asks.

“I think I’m more nervous than excited.” Izuku answers, nauseous at the thought of not doing well enough.

“I’m sure you’ll both do great!” Nagisa cheers, though strangely Izuku hears some irritation in his voice. Why would Nagisa be irritated…

Oh, right! “Say Ura- Ochaco,” Izuku starts, fumbling over her name for a moment, “…Shun is thinking of asking his friend out on a date, do you have any recommendations for what they could do together?”

And so it goes.

It’s all too late once Izuku realises he’s just dug his own grave by introducing those two.

Nagisa is creepily good at playing nice, but Ochaco took Aizawa-sensei’s first day vigilance lesson to heart and has become the third most observant student in their class aside from Todoroki and Tsuyu.

He wonders if it’s too late to run away.

Chapter Text

She stares at him for a while, considering. Ochaco is unsure why Izuku is on friendly terms with an assassin, the very same one from the USJ at that.

She doubts she was good enough to fool the killer, he knows that she knows.

One would think that rich people wouldn’t bother wasting their money to rid of some low income cretin, yet the truth is that it’s easier to silence people through making them disappear instead of risking their reputation in a court case, even if they win.

Poor people know better than to know things.

In all honesty, the blue haired boy, who most certainly doesn’t go to UA (then where did he get the uniform?) scares the daylight out of her.

The pro heroes had tried to hurry them away before they saw the aftermath of the assassinations, but while fighting their way back to their teachers they saw it anyway. They all saw.

And now she’d spent yesterday’s afternoon giving dating advice to the person responsible for that. What in the world.

She’d eaten up every detail about him, how his posture was relaxed but his hands had been jittering with the anticipation of movement.

How there was a couple of hairs on the right side of his face much shorter than the rest, like he’d planned to cut his hair but had changed his mind halfway through the first chop.

How his complexion was healthy but his eyes were heavy with weariness someone their age shouldn’t have yet.

How the cuffs of his uniform were singed and stained.

How not a single noise could be heard from him aside from his clear voice. If she tied a bell on him would it ring, or stay silent?

How he was definitely hiding weapons somewhere on his person.

And how he never once stopped smiling that perfectly innocent smile, no matter what she saw in his eyes.

Gods, his eyes had been terrifying.

Ochaco hated being scared, she wanted to be brave, but she was fifteen and from a life where her parents couldn’t afford to make a fuss if she were to die, no matter how suspiciously.

“Are you alright?” Izuku asks, and his voice snaps her back to the present. The cafeteria is bustling with students, entirely unconcerned. Why wouldn’t they be? It’s not like a cold blooded killer had walked through these very same halls just yesterday without a care in the world. Not in their world.

“I’m alright, why do you ask?” She pulls forth as much cheeriness as she can manage, forcing herself to focus on the excitement of the upcoming festival.

Will they be there?

In the stands?

As her opponent?

How would she know? All she knows is that someone who is perfectly willing to lend their clothes to a murderer goes to the same school as her.

Or were they threatened?

She was to be a hero, but was this even something she could handle? Could she shield whichever peer of hers had landed himself in such peril?

“You haven’t eaten a bite. You’re not feeling sick, are you?”

Ochaco hates how scared she is.

If she spots something blue in the stands, will she freeze up?

No. She reminded herself that she’d managed to keep her cool yesterday. She could do it again.

People like her didn’t know anything, not until the time was right.

“No, I’m perfectly fine. Sorry to worry you.” She chuckles lightheartedly and resumes eating.

She’s interrupted once more however when two students stop at their table.

“Hi, sorry to bother,” the pink haired girl who didn’t look sorry in the slightest started, “but we realised a little while ago that our classmate who was in charge of your costume ignored some of your requests.”

Ochaco nods slowly, “yes, now that you mention it. I do like the look of it, even if it’s kind of embarrassing how skin tight it is.” She explains. “I’m fine with it the way it is though. I’ve gotten used to it.”

This time it’s the boy who speaks up, he has silvery hair and a goofy headband, nothing too special. “Alright, if you change your mind you can come by the lab.” He drawls, his eyes drifting off to stare at something in the distance with boredom.

“Even if you don’t, you should still come by to check out some of our sweet babies!” The girl exclaims before nudging her friend.

”gadgets” the boy mumbles and hands them each a card.

‘Mei and Itona inventions inc.’ she reaches to take the card from him with a smile. The pair of inventors is a bit eccentric but they seem fun.

Although…

Somethings not quite right.

It’s only as the pair has already left and she’s walking to class that her mind screeches to a halt and dread pools in her stomach.

The boy’s sleeves were singed and stained in a very familiar manner.

Taking a deep breath she kept walking.

People like her don’t know things.

Not until the time is right.

Chapter Text

“Nagisa?” Karma asked idly, “what’s got you all thoughtful?”

He shivered, and let his mouth quirk into a light smirk as the icy blue eyes snapped over to observe his figure. The moon, whole and round, cast a ghostly sort of light across the street.

They were stood at one of the apartment entrances to the assassins camp, the one their class favoured due to its inconspicuousness.

Nagisa blinked slowly, something he didn’t do often. Seeing him relaxed for once made something pleasant buzz in Karmas brain.

“Let’s…” his classmate trailed off, and Karma noticed the shift in his posture. Nagisa had changed his mind about something just then.

“I don’t like doing what the JAA tells us to anymore.” He finally settles for something to say, “it was fun. Now it’s not.”

Nagisa trailed over to Karma and let his back think against the wall, mirroring Karma’s own pose.

Nagisa was pale. He had always been, but this wasn’t his good old ‘can’t catch a tan’ pale. Nagisa looked sickly, with dark under eyes and slightly sunken cheeks.

“You’re right.” Karma agrees, “it’s not fun anymore, and we don’t exactly need the money.”

“So, what should we do now?” Nagisa asks, looking at the unbroken moon as if it might answer.

“We could run away, all of us.” Karma mock whispers, leaning over to Nagisa and letting his words flow right into the others ear.

Nagisa sharpened at the closeness, hand reaching for Karma’s shoulder and gripping the fabric of his sleeve.

They stood face to face. They’d been this close before, but one of them always hesitated to close distance. It had never felt right.

It felt right now, Nagisa looked like he might kill someone if Karma stepped away and he wanted to try, just to see it.

Still, he remained there, their breaths mingling but still too far apart.

Neither made the move.

“Are we an ‘in another life’ story?” Nagisa asks softly. “Was there a moment where we would have become something, but we missed it?”

“Did we miss it Karma?” He’s whispering now, gaze angled down.

“No, of course not.” Karma grins, “we are an ‘in every life’ story, Nagisa.”

Karma cups Nagisa’s face, “We are the main characters, the narrative waits for us.”

They sprung apart, a faint whooshing sound the only warning before a knife embedded itself in the wall where they’d been standing.

Karma pouted at yet another setback and watched with satisfaction as Nagisa bared his teeth in a furious snarl.

Stalking over he pulled the knife out of the wall and inspected it.

‘Property of the Bright Society’ Karma had to squint to read the engraving on the blade. Whoever had thrown it had retreated so fast neither assassin could tell where they went.

Silence rang heavy.

—

“Mara.” Nagisa addressed the girl. It wasn’t her real name, but people doubted if even her mentor knew her true name. She was weaving more of her red strings, which she used to trap her targets like a spider traps flies.

Her nails were neatly painted a striking red, different from usual as she only really painted her nails when she had a target. Even her hair was neater than normal, pulled into a low bun, and secured with pins.

She glanced up at them with a neutral expression. “You wanna buy something?” She asked, gesturing to the items on sale. Poisons, blades, guns and the odd explosive.

“No we-“

“No purchase, no talk.” She cut him off.

Karma slammed the knife on the counter. “Do you know what the Bright society is?”

Mara looked a bit spooked, hand hovering over the blade, tracing the letters.

Then she straightened her back and glared at them.

“No purchase,” she sweeper the items for sale off the table and into a bag, “no talk.” She slammed down a sign on the table the same as Karma had the blade.

‘Closed’

“Mara!” Nagisa yelled after her. He noticed her limping slightly.

“Go away! I don’t want you mini Reapers talking to me!” She screamed back. People walking by ignored them, they were only kids after all.

Mara had been standoffish towards them since they’d arrived, insisting that they would only bring trouble. It seems she’d taken that knife as confirmation, and they needed to know why.

“Just tell us what you know!”

“No! I am not doing business with you lot again! Last time I went looking for information on one of your requests I ended up in some crazy warehouse laboratory! Unlike your weird little world end class, I actually value my life!” She ranted.

Karma and Nagisa share a look. “Who asked you for information Mara?”

Mara scoffs. “That digital girl of yours.”

She finally turns back around to look at them. “Like I said, I’m not getting involved with whatever you’re up to. You people don’t know when to leave well enough alone.”

“Someone attacked us right outside an entrance.” Karma says, voice cool and calm, “with this.” He pulls out the knife again.

That same spooked expression appears on her face. “Here?” She asks, voice weaker than they’ve ever heard, eyes darting around, as if she might spot someone that shouldn’t be here.

“Please tell us what this means.” Nagisa pleads, stepping closer to her. “And about what Ritsu wanted as well.” Karma pipes in.

She hesitates a moment but gives a curt nod.

They make their way to a more private corner and sit down. Mara closes her eyes for a bit and leans against the wall.

“It’s pretty well known that besides looking after my teachers stall I do odd jobs, gathering info mainly, so it wasn’t too strange when that girl asked me to investigate something.”

—

Mara weaved her newest batch of strings absentmindedly, it was a slow day. This version was tougher than the last, but it didn’t dye easily, and Mara had an image to uphold.

The Spider Lily was well known for the signature red colouring of her webs after all.

“Ahem.” Came a voice.

Mara glanced around with confusion.

There was no one there.

“Over here, look at your phone!” The same voice called.

Right there on the screen was the digital girl from the Reapers class.

“Nope.” She decided, flipping the phone face down.

“Wait! I want to hire you!”

Mara paused at that. She needed money to buy better material. Something that would take to dye better but still retain that toughness. Her teacher just didn’t understand that having a recognisable brand helped get more customers.

With a sigh she took the phone in hand. “Speak, little anime girl.”

“It’s Ritsu.” She corrected.

“I don’t care, tell me what you want.” She snapped.

“Right, sorry.” She said, “I came across some files on a project some villains are working on, and I need some photos taken of their base of operations. The experiments more specifically. The descriptions of their appearance are a bit too… familiar.” She rattles off.

Mara sighs, “villains huh, that’s gonna cost you a lot.”

“Well, they haven’t actually done any real villainy yet, but they’ve got plans. I can give you those plans and you can sell them or something.” She offers.

The JAA pays its members a lot for information, depending on how detailed and how nefarious those plans are she could make a pretty decent profit. “The plans and a grand.” She haggles, mostly just out of habit. The plans would be payment enough.

“Deal.” The girl agrees, very seriously.

Mara blinks. “Shit, really?”

A grin spreads on her face, “consider it done Glados!”

“It’s Ritsu.”

—

All things considered, breaking in was laughably easy. Whoever the villains in charge of this operation were, they were very lax with security.

“Holy crap.” She breathed, looking at the rows of giant test tube looking things.

Lifting her camera she snapped a picture.

Whatever this was she had a bad feeling about it.

She wandered closer to one of the tubes, it was filled with liquid, floating inside was a hulking figure.

“Is that a person?” Mara squinted, trying to make out the features. It looked like a person with a mutant type quirk, looking something like a crocodile.

She took a picture and kept moving further into the warehouse. The lighting was dingy, which was a plus for her. Not only did the darkness help hide her, but her night vision lenses, a gift from her teacher, made sure she was at an advantage.

There was a little desk a little up ahead and what looked like some files spread out on top.

Glancing around and seeing no reason not to approach she slipped over to the table.

The papers were, in fact, files. Pulling up her camera again she snapped pictures of each file.

For the money she would make from it, it was a laughably easy job.

“What are you doing here, little girl?” A raspy voice echoed through the warehouse making her jump and pull out her handgun.

“Ahh, the way you move. You’re one of those little profit killers.” It rasped, “how cute.”

“What reason do you have to snoop around here?”

Mara clutched her gun tightly, “I’m just doing what I was hired to do, I don’t know why.”

“I see. Tell me little killer, who hired you.” It was posed as a question, but it was not one.

“A- another assassin.”

“Fascinating.” It chuckled.

Then it laughed, it bounced off the walls and hollowed Mara of any hope that this guy wasn’t dangerous to her. She released a shaky breath, looking for the quickest exit. She should’ve scouted the escape routes before she even came in. Her teacher would be so disappointed.

She might die here. Her nail polish was chipped. Her corpse would be found, if it was found, and she’d be just another nameless teen with messy hair, rumpled clothes and chipped nail polish.

“Air strike” the words made no sense to Mara but she felt her goosebumps across her skin and bolted, just in time to miss the strike of… whatever it was that pulverised the ground where she’d been.

“Run little killer, run.” The voice taunted.

This guy was strong, he didn’t think Mara could escape, but Mara was was the fastest assassin in her age group, and when the terrain suited her, she could outrun someone with a speed quirk.

Whoever this guy was, he hadn’t moved since making himself known.

It might be because he didn’t think Mara worth the effort, or because it was a struggle for him. This guy was hurt.

She leapt across the room, weaving between the test tubes as more attacks were sent her way.

She couldn’t help but whimper a bit as one just barely hit her hip, making her stumble. Gritting her teeth she kept moving.

The exit was in sight, if she could just get outside, she would be safe.

She crashed through the door and ducked immediately. An attack landing right behind her, sending debris flying all around.

“You enjoy your life little killer,” the voice called behind her as she stumbled further away, “I think I’ll call an old friend, someone who will be interested to hear of a silly little quirkless girl, who thinks she’s dangerous.”

—

“I don’t know who that guy was, but if I never see him again, it’ll be too soon.” Mara huffs. “No clue how he knew I’m quirkless.”

“And the Bright society?” Nagisa urged.

Mara rolled her eyes. “A group of quirk supremacists. They think people without quirks should ‘stay in their lane’, and hunt down any who don’t.”

“What exactly does staying in their lane mean?” Karma inquires.

Mara shrugs, “just about anything. But what they hate most, is quirkless people who are strong. Who fight.”

“So just about every assassin.” Nagisa frowns.

“Nah, they ain’t that stupid,” Mara snorts, “loathe as they are to admit it, they can’t beat most grown assassins.”

“So they kill the kids.” Karma chuckles humourlessly.

“Essentially, yes.” Mara sighs, “the JAA despises them, but every time they’ve tried to wipe the society out, they just pop back up with new members.”

“You’re saying there’s nothing that can be done.” Nagisa surmises.

“Pretty much.” Mara agrees, “what I suggest you do, is tell your little robot friend and anyone who might be in on whatever she’s plotting to lay low, go into deep cover.”

“And that goes for you two as well. They know you’re connected to them somehow.” She stands up. “Stay safe, or so help me I will sell your teeth.”

She walks away. “Don’t look for me again. I’m gonna have to disappear for a bit.”

Chapter Text

“You are angry.” Karma notes.

Nagisa paces across the room, not dignifying his friend’s observation with an answer. He was indeed angry.

Nagisa didn’t get angry often.

“They want to ship us off.” He grits his teeth. “Can you believe it?”

Mara had apparently told the JAA about their run in with the Bright society, before disappearing off the face of the earth, and now they were planning to send them to another country to just hide. It was ridiculous. They were fully trained assassins, even if the association hadn’t yet given them the official ranking.

“Karma, we’re you serious about running away?”

—

“Hello Izuku.” Ochaco greeted with a smile. The school day was over and tensions were high. The sports festival was only a day away now.

“Ochaco, hi.” Izuku couldn’t help but look at his feet instead of her cheerful face. The way she smiled was as sweet as his mothers, and he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that anyone other than her could look at him like that.

He still remembers the look on her face when Izuku was accepted into UA. It was so shocked, as if her whole world had shattered. That look had kind of hurt.

He knew full well why she’d looked at him like that.

He’d been pathetic, and he couldn’t even blame his lack of quirk for it anymore, not since meeting Nagisa. Easily the strongest person he knew, who took out that Nomu, when even his teacher couldn’t.

He suddenly remembers that villains think Aizawa-sensei is cool, and it draws a chuckle out of him, which makes Ochaco look at him strangely.

“We’re walking in the same direction, did you want to go together?” She asks, ignoring what, to her, must seem like him losing his mind.

He smiles, “yes, I’d like that.” He admits, and finally looks her in the eye. He immediately regrets it as he realises how beautiful her eyes are, big and round like a dolls. A mesmerising shade of amber that makes him freeze in place, despite them being so warm.

Ochaco looks confused for a moment, before she smiles. “You know, your friend Shun. I really admired how open and confident he was with his feelings.” She says suddenly.

They finally begin walking as she says, “I think I’d like to be like that as well, one day.”

There’s a rosiness to her cheeks as she says that, and she looks at Izuku meaningfully.

Something in him short-circuits.

“Y-yeah. N- Shun is… something else.” He mumbles.

Her smile dims a bit, but only for a moment, her eyes are somehow very serious though. Only as the light and happy atmosphere dims does he realise.

“Ochaco, we’re going the wrong way, aren’t we?” He asks hesitantly.

She gives no answer, only keeps walking, even as Izuku slows.

Even as she keeps moving, she’s waiting for him to follow, Izuku realises. He’s never seen Ochaco like this.

He catches up to her quickly.

They keep walking in silence.

Finally, they reach a little nook. It’s in a dead end alleyway, boxed on all sides but one, with a lone street lamp and bench. There’s no windows on this side of the houses, and no doors.

Ochaco sits down on the bench, almost collapsing and looking horribly defeated, and Izuku can’t help but see the similarities between this moment, and his talk with Nagisa at the park.

Before Izuku can ask anything, Ochaco speaks.

“I know better than to poke around in things like this, but Izuku, you’re my dear friend, and I care for you very much.” She starts, her voice soft.

“I need to know.” She looks at him, and her eyes are very intense.

“Are you in danger?”

She knows.

Izuku hesitantly sits down next to her, trying to think of the best way to phrase things.

“I’ve always been stupid with my emotions, always letting them get in the way.” Ochaco chuckles wryly, “My parents used to say I’m like my quirk, that my emotions make me float away, and forget to be afraid of how high I’m going.”

“Somehow, I’m not afraid at all right now. I was, just a few days ago. Just yesterday as well if I’m honest.” She looks up at the sky, the sun blocked by clouds.

“But then I had the thought, what if you’re scared too? Somehow that seemed more important than my own fear.”

Izuku finally figures out what to say.

“I’m always at least a little scared. I always have been, even before I met him.” Izuku tells her. “I’m scared of what he might do, of course I am. He doesn’t seem to understand how much someone’s death can hurt. Or maybe he does understand, but doesn’t care for some reason. I’m not sure which is worse.”

He wants to tell her everything, about being born quirkless, about All might and One For All, about Nagisa, but he doesn’t think he has enough breath. Instead he says, “I’m not scared of him though.”

“No?” She asks. He’s not sure if she’s surprised or confused.

“He’s not always scary. In fact, he rarely is.” He confides, “that’s what makes it so bad when he is.”

“Maybe he’s different with his own kind, but with me, he’s like a normal person.”

Ochaco sighs, “do you two talk often?”

“Every now and then.” Izuku smiles. “Sometimes he just appears. I’ve no clue how he keeps finding me. I’m not sure I want to know.”

Ochaco shudders, “creepy.” She proclaims.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. The important thing is, you’re safe. Right?” She prods insistently.

“Yes.” He smiles.

She answers with a smile of her own.

“What are your plans for the sports festival?” She asks, changing the subject.

“My plan boils down to one word.” He laughs humourlessly.

“Yeah?”

“Win.” He gathers as much confidence as he’s ever had in his life, and tries to channel it into that singular word.

“Oh?” She cocks her head, somewhat defiantly, and there’s a fire in her eyes. “How interesting, that’s my plan as well. Are you copying me?”

He’d thought she was beautiful before, and she was, but now she’s the most stunning sight he’s ever laid his eyes on. In the dingy light of the alley, no artist could paint this scene of her, and do it justice.

Her spark lights a fire in him as well.

“How about a bet?” He proposes, more daring than he thought himself capable, but she makes him feel fearless.

She makes him strong, and he loves it.

He might love her a little bit as well.

“What kind of bet?” She smiles, teeth bared, and she might look more dangerous than Nagisa, because this girl could hurt Izuku in unspeakable ways, and he’d never blame her.

“If I win, you’ll gift me something, and if you win, I’ll gift you something.”

“And if neither of us wins?” She asks.

Izuku shakes his head, “I’m starting to think that’s impossible. It feels like we’re the only ones fighting right now.” He laughs, and she joins him shortly.

“That’s hardly true. Everyone wants this victory.” Ochaco scolds teasingly.

“I guess we can’t let them have it then.”

Chapter Text

There’s a woman at the gate.

Why Nedzu insisted he deal with it, Shouta did not know. “Please leave the premises, the school grounds are only open to students and faculty.”

“I only want to contact my ward. There’s been a… situation, and my calls aren’t going through.” She argued back, although more politely than Shouta would expect from her appearance. Though, he supposes that appearances can be deceiving.

She was almost tall for a woman, and the high heels she wore made her nearly level with Shouta himself. Her features were foreign, but her accent was impeccable. Blue eyes and blonde hair. She was gorgeous, that much was fact, but Shouta already had one too many loud blondes in his life to feel any interest.

“I do not know why your calls aren’t going through, the school only blocks suspicious numbers.” Shouta said, keeping his face impassive, but observing hers closely.

No reaction, she was either a liar more skilled than any Shouta had ever met, or too stupid to realise that the school considered hers a suspicious number.

Shouta prayed for the safety of his students that it was the latter, but for his sanity that it was the former.

“Miss…” he trailed off.

“Jelavić.” She finished for him.

“Miss Jelavić, if you will tell me your child’s name, I can go fetch them, but I cannot let you on the premises.” He explains carefully.

Her eyes narrowed, and Shouta knew that he would have a headache by the end of the day. “Fine.” She grumbles. “Itona Horibe. Support course. Please do be quick, this is an emergency.”

Shouta nodded and walked off just as the woman’s phone rang.

He reached the classroom Itona was supposedly in and knocked. A very tired looking Maijima opened the door.

“Shouta, save me.”

“You can do it Maijima, only four more hours.” Shouta tried his best for an encouraging tone.

“You don’t understand.” Maijima all but sobbed.

Just then an explosion sounded from inside and Shoutas prediction of a headache came true.

“I’m looking for an Itona Horibe, his mother is here for him. A family emergency from what I could gather.” Shouta explained, and just as he said the name, a spark of hope appeared in his eyes.

“Please take him Shou, get him as far away from her as possible.” He pleaded.

Another explosion.

“Is he harassing a student?” Shouta asked suddenly serious.

“Worse. They’re friends.” Maijima stated earnestly.

“Right.” Shouta drawled out, “I’ll just take him off your hands then.”

He heard Maijima calling out a thank you as he entered the classroom. It was a mess, a majority of the students had flipped over their desks and were taking cover behind them, most still tinkering with gadgets, but a few looking like traumatised war veterans having flashbacks.

In the middle of it all he saw a pair of students, a boy with a headband and a girl with pink dreads.

“Sensei! If we could get access to the schools power generator it might be strong enough to power the Time-Freeze-blanket!” The girl called, not looking up from what they were doing.

The boy blinked and let out a soft “uh-oh.” And Shouta saw the other students immediately cover their ears, as the two in the middle dropped under their table.

He thought to cover his own ears and turn away just in time for another explosion to shake the room.

“I’m here for an Itona Horibe.” He called out. “Your mother is looking for you.”

“My… mother?” The boy with the headband asked cautiously, rising from under the table with more dignity than should be possible.

“Yes, miss Jelavić stressed that it was an emergency.” Shouta sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose.

The boy blinked slowly.

“I don’t know anyone with that name,” he answered simply, “and I don’t have a mother.”

Then he simply returned to tinkering.

Shouta fished out his phone with irritation. “Hello? Please apprehend the blonde woman at the gate. A suspicion has arisen that she is attempting to break in.”

Then Itona raised his head again. “Did you say blonde?”

—

“I know sweetie, I’m working on it. The moment I get a hold of him I’ll bring him somewhere safe.” Shouta caught the tail end of her phone call.

Then struggle, “what is the meaning of this? Unhand me!” A grunt and scream of pain followed her exclamation, by the voice, definitely not belonging to miss Jelavić.

When the gate came into view, Shouta saw the blonde woman standing over the two security guards, looking positively furious.

“Yes dear, I’m alright, nothing I can’t handle.” She raised her phone to her ear again and murmured reassurances.

“So then, do you know her or not?” He asked the boy.

Itona looked at him, as if stumped that Shouta didn’t know the answer already, “I know her. She takes care of me.”

“So she’s your mother.” Shouta closes his eyes in irritation and breathes deeply.

“Oh.” Itona blinks, looking surprised, “I never thought of it that way.”

This kid.

The woman noticed them standing there. “Itona! Thank god you’re safe, the calls wouldn’t go through.”

“Yes, I am well.”

“Apologies for the security miss Jelavić, Itona didn’t recognise your name.” Shouta grumbled.

“What?! Over a year I’ve looked after you, and you don’t even know my name?” She squawked indignantly.

“Is it not Bitch-sensei?” Itona tilted his head.

Shouta choked at the name.

“No! It’s Irina! Irina Jelavić, you brat!”

“…” Itona was silent for a moment, “that’s too hard to say, I’ll just stick to Bitch-sensei.”

Surprisingly, miss Jelavić was not angered by this, waving her hand dismissively, “yes, of course. I’m just saying, you should be able to recognise my name in case something like this happens again.”

Shouta wanted to go home.

“What did you need me for?” Itona asks evenly.

“Nagisa and Karma had an… alarming encounter.” Shoutas ears prickled, “we need to get you and Ritsu somewhere safe.”

“Pardon me miss, but I highly doubt there’s a place he’ll be safer at than UA.” Shouta interjected.

Miss Jelavić raises a thin brow, looking almost insulted. With a single, well manicured hand she gently pushes the gate open.

That should have been locked, Shouta thought numbly.

“Let me make myself clear Shouta Aizawa. I stayed out here as you requested out of politeness.” She begins, voice full of venom, “you do not know our situation. If I can get in, then there is a good chance that they can as well,” she is standing right in front of him now, “and trust me when I say, that nothing,” she jabs at his chest with a finger, icy blue eyes locked with his, “you could say will make me risk the safety of my children.” She says the last part so quietly, that Shouta could only hear her due to the proximity, yet it felt like she was screaming. “It is nothing personal, in fact, from what my kids have told me, you seem respectable.”

He sighs. “Alright. But if you need help, find a way to contact me. You’re a smarter woman than you let on. I’m sure you can figure out how.” She looked at him with a calculating gaze, before her demeanour softened.

“What a cool hero.” She laughs and shakes her head dismissively, though he doubts she meant for him to hear it, and begins walking away.

Shouta knew when to pick his battles, and something deep inside him, a part of himself he hadn’t acknowledged yet, knew that Irina Jelavić would keep the boy safe if it killed her. He didn’t understand why he knew, but he recognised a fire in her that might burn inside himself as well.

“Come on Itona.” She beckoned, and the boy didn’t hesitate to follow. There was trust there.

“Bitch-sensei?”

“Yes?” She turned to the boy.

“Are you my mother?” He asked, face passive, and she recoiled a bit, face going red.

“Wh-what? I mean- ye- umm…”

The pair walked off and he should have been able to put the encounter out of his head. But, when had Shouta had the chance to meet any of miss Jelavić’s children before today?

—

Itona was a bit bummed. He had been looking forward to the sports festival, and now, on the day of, he was being escorted out of the school by his real teacher.

As a support course student Itona would have been allowed to use gadgets in the sports festival, which was a good thing considering his quirk factor had been all but destroyed by his partial transformation, and it'd be quite suspicious if he won despite that.

A lot has happened to their class, and Itona, somehow, turned out to be one of the more well adjusted among them. He’s still not sure how that happened.

He’d enjoyed UA while it lasted, and would miss Mei and their projects. He’ll have to figure out how to smuggle the RitsuBot_01 out of there at some point.

He would also miss all the fun toys UA gave them access to. Like the computers directly connected to their system, but there were workarounds for that, Itona thinks, tempted to smile as the thumbs the little chip in his pocket.

“Ritsu is with you, right? She’s been going invisible on our devices around the time you have classes every Monday through Friday for a while now.” Bitch-sensei asks, looking a bit worried that the answer might be no.

“Right here!” She calls from his phone, though she’d been using the little earpiece they’d made while at school so they didn’t get as many weird looks.

Mei and Ritsu adored each other, and it sort of really gave Itona the creeps. He knew for a fact that no one could stop Ritsu from visiting her new friend.

He just hopes Mei doesn’t accidentally reveal the surprise. He’s shocked they’ve actually managed to keep it under wraps at all. Of course, Ritsu isn’t completely oblivious, she never is, but it seems she finds it cute they’re trying to surprise her and is letting them. She could find out what they’re doing in seconds if she just looked.

Bitch-sensei let’s out a sigh that she might think is subtle, but she keeps forgetting that she’s now constantly surrounded by fellow assassins who are very familiar with her mannerisms.

“Can this really not wait until the end of the sports festival?” Itona doesn’t pout, but it’s a near thing.

Bitch-sensei gives him a soft look he can’t quite decipher, “sorry kid.” She says.

They reach the car and Bitch-sensei relaxes some more. For good reason of course.

“Hey darling.” She smiles.

He’s heard love makes a woman beautiful. He supposes it’s true, because that look suits her very well.

“Irina.” Karasuma-sensei breathes, looking relieved that she’s back, which Itona thinks is a bit stupid. It’s just school, and Irina is a perfectly capable assassin (or ex assassin depending on who you ask.). She’d taken to learning some more tricks she could use outside of seducing and then killing the target once they let down their guard, though she still prefers a clean takedown, where her opponent gets no chance to fight back.

“I know, it took longer than I’d have liked as well, but the important thing is that everyone is accounted for.” She says as she’s buckling herself in.

She’s gotten really good at reading Karasuma-sensei in particular. He supposes it makes sense, they’re in love after all.

“If Bitch-sensei is mom, then is Karasuma-sensei dad?” He asks.

Unlike his fiancé, Karasuma-sensei doesn’t flounder with the answer. “I thought you brats declared me the class dad a long time ago.” He grumbles.

“I see.” Itona narrows his eyes.

“I’m not sure you do.” Ritsu giggles in his ear.

Chapter Text

I will delete this notice once the next chapter goes up!

I’m going to need some feedback on the next few chapters.

The events of these chapters are all taking place during the same timeframe and I need to figure out how to order them. I’ll need to be vague in explaining them because spoilers, obviously spoilers.

Here is the lineup:

A chapter following Itona, Ritsu and a character I’m not naming for spoiler reasons, entirely from his POV

A chapter following Nagisa, Karma and Izuku, alternating between their three POV’s

A chapter following Shouta, switching between his and another character’s POV

A chapter following Kayano and Okuda from Kayano’s POV

A chapter following Ochaco from her POV with an end following another character

A chapter following Bakugou from his POV

I’ve really been struggling with just how much is going to be happening so I’m going to try to somehow put in some filler, but I’m not sure where to fit it yet, and figuring out which order all of this is going to happen would help a lot.

Please let me know your thoughts!!!

Chapter Text

So, I’m discontinuing this story, probably forever. I do love how it was going but for some reason I just can’t seem to snap out of my writers block with like, the next twenty chapters. I’ve tried skipping chapters and just writing the ones I’m excited about but everything that ends up written down makes me think that maybe the sound of nails on a chalkboard isn’t actually all that bad.

I've been lying to myself for a while now, pretending I’ll get back in the groove of things, I even kind of lied to you all when I posted that notice asking for help with the order of the chapters. I did need help with the order, but my main hope was that getting an answer from all of you on what you want to read about next would motivate me to actually write it, but no matter how guilty I felt about you all giving me feedback and waiting to read what happens next only for me to barely have the energy to even think of the story, I can. Not. Write. And that sucks, because I know exactly how I want this story to go. I know what I NEED to write, but it just doesn’t overlap with what I CAN write, and I am so sorry.

I briefly considered orphaning this story because looking at my username attached to it makes me just seethe with hatred. I looked at all the engagement and kudos and comments you all leave behind, all the lovely things you have said and I knew that I was never going to finish this story, and I felt like I didn’t deserve to be associated with this story that I love so dearly, the story I feel like I’m actively betraying. But I will not orphan it, because that has been my solution every time this has happened. One of my stories gets a decent amount of attention and I start feeling guilty about my inability to write with consistent quality and schedule, and I jump ship. I abandon the story and the readers and I bury my head in the sand.

But I’m going to keep this story, because I hope that I can get better, and “hope dies last”, though my teacher says that is a fool’s consolation. Maybe one day I will come back to this story that I adore and despise, and I will still remember what I wanted to do with it. Maybe I will come up with something new to do with it instead.

It’s so tempting to just find a successor for this story, to make it some other Atlas’ world to carry, and if anyone wants to give it a try then by all means. I don’t tend to be very protective of my creations. In fact I often hate them like a new mother whose baby won’t stop crying, and I just want a moment of quiet to be a person again, but I still love it, because it’s mine. I remember every story I’ve written, and I hate every single one except for the very first. A blatant plagiarism of Christopher Paolini’s “Eragon”, written in chicken-scratch handwriting in a lined notebook with a graphite pencil. The only story I’ve ever completed anywhere other than in my head. I’ve long since lost that notebook, dismissing it as unimportant sometime when I was eleven, but I could retell that god awful story with decent accuracy. I love it so much, and I hope in a few years I can be glad that I didn’t do to this story what I did to that notebook.

Im being more honest right now than I think I’ve ever been about how I feel when I write, the constant whiplash of switching between intense love and hate. Suppose it matches the title of the fic. Sometimes I do feel like I’m lying, even when telling the truth. I always feel like that when trying to tell a story. I often write characters as contradictory to themselves, because that’s how I feel about myself. I can say I care too much and it would be true, but I just cannot care enough, I don’t think I’d survive it if I did, so I abandon my stories, and I fuck off into the sunset, never thinking back on them again if I can help it.

I’m trying to be better, I know my flaws, but it will take time. This is the furthest one of my stories has made it and I could cry of joy and cry of grief, because I was so close. I was so close to actually getting to the end. I made it past the halfway mark, which I haven’t managed once since that very first story.

I’m sorry you all who decide to read this have to be witness to this, but I suppose someone has to. I feel very melodramatic right now, I’m definitely writing this explanation of why this story won’t see another update, probably ever, more like I’d write and emotional scene in one of my fics and it feels stupid, but it’s the only way the words will actually be written and posted instead of just drowning in the corner of my head when I throw everything I don’t want to think about. I listen for the splash and imagine everything disappearing into the murky depths, and I pretend to forget.

I guess what I’m trying to say is this: have higher hopes for what I may yet write, and don’t mourn this one too much.