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Chapter Text

It was supposed to be an easy year-wide field trip to celebrate the upcoming end-of-year exams. One last hurrah before the horror of exams overtook them 

Izuku ran at the villain sporting multiple arms and powered up his left arm for a punch. Duck. Swing. Side sweep. Punch. Villain down and out. 

But this was Class 1-A, nothing was ever easy for their class. Especially if it involved field trips. The concept was basically cursed for them, and Izuku was this close to insisting the term be banned concerning their class for the rest of their school career. 

Too bad they dragged the rest of the first-year students into their cursed luck too. 

Izuku spotted several students from 1-B shoring up defenses on the showroom's other side. Not too far away, Shinso, Mei, and a couple of support students with weapons - which they weren’t supposed to have outside of UA grounds - defended the southern exit covering the evacuation for the rest of the first-year students who couldn’t or wouldn’t fight. All Might, despite lacking the ability to transform anymore, was there right along with them also carrying a weapon to back up the retreat. 

Izuku winced when Kaminari crashed into another display, shards of glass littering the floor. 

This was a museum. At this rate, the whole place would be wrecked before the pro-heroes could even arrive. Thank goodness the class at least had their provisional licenses. Otherwise, they would have only been able to coordinate civilian evacuation. Which would have been even harder considering this was an ambush for them. 

Izuku dodged the blast of some blue lady’s lasers and tried not to look at the deep gouge it made in the wall behind him, probably running a priceless painting in the process. 

“DIE! DIE! DIE!” Multiple explosions cracked through the air rocking the building with force. Another museum hallway blazed in concussive force and the smell of burnt caramel. Plaster and wood rained down over the classes. Well, at least Kacchan was doing alright. 

“We need to get out of here before we bring the building down!” Uraraka shouted, doing her best to keep debris from crashing around them. 

Izuku wanted to nod but spotted the blue lady readying to aim another blast. Aoyama was trapped under rubble, his leg immobilized and quirk unusable by the nauseated look on his face. If no one helped, his classmate would end up-

He launched himself through the air, spreading power through his legs. Knocking the woman off course, he crashed into the side of another display, wincing as the glass shattered and prickled against his skin. 

“You fucking brat!” she screeched, recovering enough to hit him with a punch Izuku could have dodged with his eyes closed - very clearly a long-range type fighter, she telegraphed her moves like crazy - he pinned her arms, and swept her legs out from underneath her. She fell and hit the ground with enough force to end up unconscious.

He glanced back at Aoyama, who haltingly maneuvered a mangled-looking leg from underneath the broken statue; the other boy gave him a shaky thumbs up. With his classmate out of immediate harm’s way, Izuku took a second to read the battlefield. 

Several teachers were handling what looked to be the ambush group's ring leaders Present Mic and Aizawa-sensei double-teamed an opponent who pinned a few Gen Ed students under downed statues. Midnight was doing her best to target villains without catching other students in the crossfire of her quirk. Power Loader and Principal Nedzu had produced a miniature tank (somehow??) and subsequently covered the eastern exit to the massive showroom. 

It was a disaster, but it was a relatively handled one. Hopefully, the rest of the pros the teachers alerted to their situation would be there soon and everything would be fine. Izuku readied himself to jump back into the fray when a bright light beneath him began to shine. 

Unlike his usual green lightning, the light was bright and clear. It sparked off the shattered pottery pieces, broken when he slammed the lady away from shooting his classmate. Spinning up and through the air, touching his near-ruined uniform pants and sticking until he couldn’t see himself beneath the growing light. Brighter and brighter the light encompassed his entire vision and he couldn’t move. 

“DEKU!” he heard someone yell out, although he couldn’t tell who. The light was just so bright. 

Was this dying? People always said there would be a bright light. 

He didn’t want to die. 

Izuku didn’t want to go. 

“Midoriya!” 

At least it was painless. His life had always involved pain; he was sure his death would be painful. 

He hoped everyone else would be okay. He wanted everyone to be safe. 

It was his last coherent thought before the bright light swallowed him completely and the world went dark. 

Izuku woke up. 

Nice. Considering his last thoughts were of his impending painless death. Waking up was not a guaranteed thing. 

Iuzku groaned as he stumbled to his feet, shocked to see so many of his classmates and teachers also sprawled out along a long hallway. Most were battered and dirtied from the fight, but all of them seemed to be waking up. 

The hallway was odd. Tall ceilings, with windows so far up nothing could be seen besides a light gray sky. Wrought iron lanterns hung from the ceiling, illuminating the hall with a soft glow. Marble floors echoed the sounds of groaning students. Heavy dark wood benches neatly lined up against the wall to his right, while the wall to his left contained ornate wooden doors with red lights above them. Izuku felt like he was in an old-fashioned bank or train station. 

Izuku headed over to Shotou and Iida and helped them to their feet. 

“Midoriya, are you okay?” asked Shotou. “The last thing I remember was white lightning surrounding you.” 

“Me too, but I’m fine.” 

“Where the fuck are we?!” Kacchan spat, red eyes wild. The rest of the class was not much better. Stances defensive and heads darting to observe the near-endless hallway they’d found themselves in. 

“Is everyone okay?” Aizawa called out, “Any major injuries?” 

The class took a second to take stock of their injuries. Izuku’s arms ached like crazy, but he didn’t think anything was broken - quite familiar with the sensation after all - the spot where he’d been zapped before the world went white didn’t look burnt or bruised in any way. So he shook his head when his teacher sent him a searching look. 

“Aoyama’s leg is broken,” Tsu told their teacher. The French boy was seated on the ground, his leg still a mangled-looking mess. Normally dramatic to the extreme, Aoyama’s face was twisted in nauseated distress, lips pursed and white from holding pained cries. 

“I think Kendo has a concussion from a wall collapse,” another student from 1-B called out, hovering protectively over their class president who looked nauseous. 

“We’re missing kids.” Izuku heard Vlad mutter. The other teacher was doing headcounts. “But I have all of my students.” 

“I have all of mine,” replied Aizawa.

“I’m missing most of mine,” said Power Loader. From where Izuku was standing the man was right. He recognized Mei’s bright pink locks and two other Support students who’d been with Shinso during the blast, but no others. And from the looks of it, Shinso was the only Gen Ed student too. 

All-Might stood off in the corner, looking vaguely worried. The blaster he’d wielded earlier was missing. As was the tank Nedzu had driven. Midnight hovered at the group's edge, a little roughed up, but still standing tall. Present Mic stood near Aizawa, eyes darting around the group assessing the students, but occasionally glancing back with worry towards the 1-A’s homeroom teacher, who had a few cuts on his face. 

Izuku was positive the two were at least dating, if not married. Though he had no solid evidence to back up the latter. 

“Looks to me like anyone in the immediate blast zone from UA is here,” Nedzu hummed, rubbing a paw across his face. “How interesting…” 

“Well, at least we don’t have to deal with villains on top of ending up in a version of the backrooms,” muttered Kirishima, whose uniform had been ripped apart from shoulder to waist. Although he looked physically unharmed. 

Before anyone else could continue, a bell sounded through the echoing hall. 

“1654 is the next available operator; all members of your group must be present for transfer.” a staticky voice called through a speaker. A few feet down the hall, a light flashed green, and the ornate door swung open. 

Izuku tensed, wondering if they were being led toward a trap. Looking towards the teachers, he saw them all gathered together, quickly whispering under their breaths. 

“Should we… go?” asked Ururaka, her lips pursed in worry. 

Aizawa and Present Mic stalked forward. “Everyone stays behind us. We don’t know where we are, or what is going on. You have permission to use your quirks if the situation becomes violent.” Aizawa ordered Class 1-A all fell into a defensive stance. 1-B was all a little startled but quickly did the same. “Shouji can you carry Aoyama?” The blond French boy muffled a faint shriek of pain, as his classmate picked him up, but otherwise remained silent. 

Vlad and Midnight brought up the rear, with the blood-quirk teacher glancing towards his own injured student. “Bondo, do you have Kendo?” The large 1-B boy gave his teacher a thumbs up, as he scooped their class president onto his back. The girl was still looking quite dazed. 

Present Mic nodded, “Alright listeners. On your toes.” 

The group moved forward as one, entering the door that had swung open. Inside was a fancy room; sweeping wooden shelves ladened with leather books and glittering crystals. A lush purple and gold rug covered the wooden floors. A crystal chandelier flickered, casting the room in a soft warm glow. A tall pair of arched windows overlooked a swirling sky of purple, blue, and black dotted with stars brighter than any Izuku had seen. Draped on either side were heavy black curtains. Situated in the room's center stood a wooden desk covered in paperwork and trinkets. 

But what caught Izuku’s - and everyone else’s - attention was the person? Being? Seated at the desk. 

With a round face and long white hair, Izuku could have mistaken them for an older version of Eri. Except they didn’t have a horn on their head, and their skin was a light shade of purple. With a buttoned-up white shirt - broach on the collar, and black corset on, they almost looked like a vampire from one of those old pre-quirk movies. 

“Hello!” exclaimed Present Mic. No response came from the person sitting at the desk. “Hello? Can you tell us where we are?” Still no response. This class broke out into mutters, and a few teachers tried to get the being’s attention, not quite willing to go completely up to the desk though. 

Over the muttering came a loud voice, “YO PURPLE BITCH!” 

“Bakugou!” 

“Kacchan!” Izuku yelled in exasperation. Honestly, they were in the middle of who knew where, and the last thing they needed was to piss off the only person they’d seen so far. 

But it was his comment that finally jolted the figure from their work. 

“Oh,” the being blinked in surprise. “Hello there,” they said with a smile. Three bright violet eyes blinked, looking directly at Izuku. Everyone promptly went silent. “What can I do for you today?” 

“Umm…” Izuku said, feeling the eyes of every other student and teacher on him. “Are you- are you talking to me?” 

The being smiled and huffed out a small laugh. “Well, you are the only one here.” 

Izuku blinked. 

Wait. 

What? 

A sentiment that was shouted out by all the students and quite a few teachers. And the noise was a little overwhelming, but it didn’t seem to even register to the being who was still watching just Izuku with a look of customer service blandness mixed with just a bit of fondness. 

“But… I’m s-surrounded by people.” He waved his arms gesturing to the fifty or so people around him. 

The smile on the being’s face dropped to curiosity as their eyebrows raised. They readjusted their glasses and peered more intently at the spot where they all stood. “Huh. I guess you do have quite a few souls along with you. No wonder you ended up here and not in the automatic lanes.” They straightened back up and a smile reemerged. “You’re ambitious for trying to transport that amount all at once. Smaller groups are recommended, but not always practical depending on your situation.” 

Izuku understood absolutely none of that. Oh, sure, the individual words made sense. But strung together? Nope. Nadda.  

Disgruntled mutters from behind him also supported his opinion that nothing about that statement made any sense. 

“What do you mean souls?” asked Izuku. “Why can’t you see my classmates and teachers?” 

“Well transferring dimensions is an energy-heavy process,” the being explained. “Trying to fully transport-” their eyes flickered over the group although not really seeing them. “Fifty-ish odd souls in one go would be an absolute mess if you all had physical bodies. Soul forms are much more compact. No messy organic material to contend with.” 

Now that Izuku looked he actually saw what the person was talking about. All his classmates and teachers had a slight sheen around them, and if they all caught a certain light from the flickering chandelier above, Izuku could almost see through them. Like ghosts. 

“So we don’t have bodies anymore!” wailed Kirishima, his panic was echoed by many in the group. 

“So their bodies are gone?” Izuku asked, knowing the being could only hear him. 

They smiled softly. “No, dear. Their bodies were just transmuted into energy and stored in their soul forms. All safe and sound until you get wherever you’re going. Since you’re the anchor point of this entire trip-” They peered at him closer and adjusted their glasses again. “And also possess an insane amount of innate energy you came through with a physical form.” They waved a hand to the side. “Regardless, I’m sure you’re all very eager to get where you’re going. Facet designation?” 

Izuku thought he might be having a stroke. “I- I think there’s been a mistake.” 

They tilted their head, “A mistake?” 

“We don’t know where we are. O-or how we ended up here.” 

“You don’t know your universal facet designation? Or your destination’s designation?”

Izuku blinked again. “No?” he squeaked out. 

A troubled expression formed on their face. “Alright…” they drawled out, waving a hand through the air. A holographic keyboard and screen manifested in front of them and they began typing intently. “Explain what happened that brought you here.” 

Izuku flushed knowing it was his fault they ended up here. “Umm, we were on a field trip to a museum. A-and there was an attack by a bunch of villains. I think- I, well... I- I ended up getting thrown into a display and whatever was inside broke and started glowing. And then I passed out and woke up here with my classmates and teachers.” 

“Great going Deku!” yelled Kaachan. 

“Of course, it’s 1-A’s fault again that we ended up in a mess,” grumbled Monoma, he received some harsh glares from assorted 1-A students and was told to hush. 

But the being simply nodded as understanding overtook their expression. “I see. Well, that certainly explains your confusion. Immediate transfer devices are jarring, and they never end up in the auto lanes because destinations aren’t preset,” they muttered quickly. “I’m assuming you just want to return to your home dimension?” 

“Yes please!” Izuku said, no, basically pleaded, and was echoed by half the class, even if they couldn’t be heard. “S-sorry.”

“Oh don’t worry love, you’ll all be fine. This is why the process isn’t automatic. Mishaps like this happen, that’s what we’re here for.” 

“What is this place?” asked Nedzu. Izuku repeated the question for the person at the desk. 

They smiled, “Yes I suppose this must be very confusing if you fell into this by accident. This is UNDER - Universal Navigation Determining Embarcation Redirect. Think of us like a giant train station. We exist in the universal in between- which is nowhere and everywhere. All universal and dimensional travel flows through here in one way or another. Even if one is using an automatic method - like teleportation, portals, time travel, dimension-hopping, etcetera, etcetera,” they explained with a well-practiced tone. 

“Why?” asked Izuku, the question echoed by many of his classmates. 

“Oh, mostly to keep existence flowing smoothly. No one wants to deal with a hole punched into reality by an overzealous Timelord, or an invasion of eldritch entities outside their quarantined sectors.” 

“Makes sense,” Izuku muttered lightly, still dazed by the idea that they were in between universes. And that more universes existed at all.

“So the infinite worlds theory is true?” mused Momo, Izuku repeated the question, because he also thought it was important. 

“Yes! Sort of. It’s… complicated,” the being said, waving their hand as they typed on their computer. “But for a third-dimensional being’s understanding of reality? Yeah, that’s the best way to view it.” 

They paused, flushing blue. “Oh, my name’s Kenius Verdance, they/them. And yours?” 

Izuku smiled at the being. “Midoriya Izuku, he/him.” 

“Midoriya, Midoriya, why does that-” Kenius’ eyes sparked as a thought came to mind. “I knew that name sounded familiar. Y’all are part of the MHA universal branch, aren’t you? I did my sixth Master’s dissertation on the different superpowered universes on the y2k-quadrant. Nice to see a familiar face.” 

Again all of those words made sense separately, but Izuku was having a hard time following the logic of them all strung together. Ignoring the muttering from behind him, he said, “Oh?” 

“Yeah, man, that was a while ago, but I still remember some universal selections I included in my data sample. The prime universe of course, but I think three or four fractal designations. Ahh, memories.” Kenius sighed fondly, typing fast at their holographic computer screen. A small device popped into existence on their desk, and they picked it up and offered it to Izuku. 

“Since you don’t know your universal facet designation we’ll have to search for it. I’ll just need a quick blood sample to help narrow down the search.” 

“Blood sample?!” he cried. 

“Midoriya don’t,” said Aizawa, reaching for the device in Izuku’s hands. The pro-hero’s hands went through the device as if he was a ghost. Midoriya stared in shock as his classmates and teachers once again erupted into panic and discussion. 

“Yep!” smiled Kenius, completely oblivious to the panic their words had caused. “I mean I could run a soul shard too, but that comes with more associated risks, and is highly unpleasant. Re-experiencing all your memories and emotions in a fraction of the time never goes over well for third-dimensional beings, their brains aren’t meant for the strain.” 

“I-is there any other way?” Izuku did not want to give away his blood. With One For All flowing through his veins, a blood sample could do untold damage. He glanced back to see All Might tense and frowning heavily. 

Kenius tilted their head. “Not really,” they mused. “I mean if you were familiar with the math involved in calculating a universal facet we might be able to come up with an approximate location. Similar if you had some sort of divining magic,” they raised an eyebrow and looked at Izuku with their three violet eyes. “Do you know either of those?” 

Izuku could only shake his head. “No.” 

“Then yeah, a blood sample will be our quickest route. Why is that an-” their eyes widened again. “Oh. Ah, yes I see why you would be… cautious about a DNA sample.” Izuku shrunk in on himself. If Kenius had seen universes like his before then they might know about One For All - in fact, it sounded like they did. “No worries Midoriya, it’s a small prick of blood, destroyed in the process. Nothing will be stored. We deal with dangerous powers and universe-shattering DNA all the time. It’s our job to be professional and secure.” 

Izuku looked down again at the device in his hands. And then back over to his teachers. “Aizawa-sensei?” 

The man frowned heavily, scowling at the device he could not touch. “It seems like our only way home, Problem Child, but it’s your blood, so it’s your choice.” 

Izuku swallowed heavily and weighed the facts in his head. On one hand, he wanted to go home, and they had no idea how to get there unless they trusted Kenius. The person seemed nice, but if they had Izuku’s DNA… One For All’s power rested in his blood. He saw what Eri’s blood could accomplish. What could One For All do in determined hands?

He felt the stares of all his classmates and teachers on his back. It wasn’t only him stuck here though. Over fifty people relied on him - because he was the only physical one here - to return them home. 

“It’s only to locate our universe?” he asked, eyes searching Kenius’ face, hoping he wasn’t making a big mistake. 

Kenius smiled softly. “I promise.” 

Izuku sighed and pressed his finger onto the black pad at the top of the device. He felt a small pin prick that stung for less than a second. The device flashed a message. 

DNA RECEIVED - ANALYZING UNIVERSAL SIGNATURE

“Thank you Midoriya, I know that was scary for you.” They held out their hand for the device, and Izuku shakily handed it over. “Now we’ll just let this run for a minute or so, and then we’ll be on our way to getting you ho-”

The device in Kenius’ hands emitted an ear-piercing shriek. Smoke poured from the top as small bursts of electricity sparked off. Kenius yelped and dropped the device - the machine clattering onto their desk. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” they muttered. The electric sparks flickered harder, and now there was actual fire. They grabbed a fire extinguisher from under their desk, and blasted the device, before the fire spread. 

The whole room was silent as the foam coated the small device. It put out the fire and muffled the shrieking before it too fell silent. Kenius stared at the analyzer like it had just killed their dog, then groaned heavily, face-planting on the desk. 

“I’m going to fucking kill IT,” they muttered. “I told them, I TOLD them my analyzer was on the fritz! I told them I was worried the next analysis would set it off. But nooooo, of course they wouldn’t replace the “perfectly functional” device. Perfectly functional my ass,” they ranted. They huffed and scraped the device up, a box appearing out of nowhere and they dumped it in.

They glanced back over at Izuku. “Sorry about this Midoriya. That was not your fault in any way. If it wasn’t your case, it would have been the next person coming through.” 

“O-okay,” he mumbled, still shocked from seeing the device go up in flames. 

“Give me a sec, I need to put a ticket in with IT.” They pulled a phone from thin air and punched a number in. If he wasn’t so overwhelmed Izuku would have loved to ask questions about Kenius’ powers, he wondered about the extent of them and if they were similar to quirks or if it was magic.

Kenius’ hand tapped rapidly against the desk, as they waited for the person on the other end to pick up. “Hi, this is Kenius Verdance from UNDER, Manual Rerouting Division I have a-” They paused breathing deeply as a look of loathing crossed their face. “...yes I can hold.” 

“Is this weirding anyone else out or is it just me,” muttered Kirishima. “Like we’re standing between universes and watching someone call IT.” 

“Proper protocol is important whether one is a hero maintaining the law, or managing the fabric of reality it must seem!” announced Iida with a determinative hand chop 

“Of course, the blood from a class 1A student would break the only machine capable of getting us all home,” scoffed Monoma. Izuku felt his shoulders curl in, even if a part of him really wanted to just roll his eyes at Monoma’s obviously cheap shot. Seriously couldn’t the guy chill for like two minutes?

“Hey, that's not fair,” cried Ururaka. “Kenius said that their machine had been on the fritz. It’s not Deku’s fault.” 

“Likely story,” sneered Monoma. “Why if I had been the one-” Monoma was swiftly cut off from talking by a slap upside the head from another one of his classmates. “Oww…” he muttered. 

“If Kendo’s not feeling up to the job then one of us has to keep you in line. Stop acting like an idiot Neito.” 

“Hi, this is Kenius Verdance from UNDER, Manual Rerouting Division.” The sound of Kenius talking again dragged the students out of their own debate. 

“Hi Blake, good to talk to you too. Listen, my Organic Analysis device has been on the fritz for the last little while, and it just gave out on me in the middle of a rerouting. Pouring smoke, and electric bursts, caught fire before I doused it with an extinguisher… yeah. I know it was crazy. I was wondering how fast I could get a replacement?” Kenius paused in the conversation and nodded to the person on the other side of the phone. 

They picked up the device and flipped it over in their hands. “Yeah no problem, it’s a G-Unit Hyperion Model serial number 230830067521.” There was silence for a moment before Jiro gasped. A split second later Kenius' face twisted in annoyance and the hand on the desk clenched down on a summoned stress ball. “That long?” they ask, their face the ultimate definition of the word ‘done.’ “I am in the middle of a very urgent- yes, I know that you cover all twenty divisions, but I brought this problem up weeks ago, and-” 

Kenius sighed heavily. Their face flickered through twenty different emotions before settling on a crisp smile that could have cut through smoke. “I understand Blake, yes. Yes, I’ll send a follow-up email, so it’s noted. Have a good rest of your day.” The phone popped out of existence. “Rot in hell you unhelpful asshole,” Kenius muttered.

Slumping into their desk chair they rubbed at the spot between their three eyes. 

“Um… are you okay,” Izuku asked, a concern echoed by many of his classmates. Kenius glanced up, and smiled weakly back at him. 

“Sorry about that, IT is just… supremely unhelpful. It will be… a while before I get another Analyzer.” 

Oh. Izuku was afraid of that. “Oh… so what now?” 

Kenius sighed again, silence stretching for a long moment, before rubbing a hand over their face. “Okay, okay, okay, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to get you home - it’s just gonna take a bit, because I’ll be going about this the long way.” A steaming mug appeared on their desk, and Kenius took a deep sip, a measure of peace overtaking their stressed expression.

They pulled up their computer again, and Izuku saw a stream of data that didn’t make any sense to him, but that Kenius was nodding appreciatively at. “Good, I got at least a start with the Analyzer’s data. That will make it easier to narrow down which universe y’all belong to.” 

Taking another deep sip of the drink, Kenius sent Midoriya a measuring look. “I’m gonna call my boss and have her put a hold on my queue so I don’t have any other distractions coming through, but this is still gonna take like…” their face twitched while running through mental calculations. “Probably two, maybe three days?” 

“Days?!” Izuku cried, a sentiment shared by many of his classmates, and a teacher or two. 

Kenius gestured their hand in a calming motion. “On our side of things, not in your universe. You’ll be returned seconds after you left. I promise. In the meantime, we need a place for y’all to stay.” Kenius tapped their chin. “We don’t normally house a group this large here at UNDER headquarters, but trying to place you elsewhere in The Between wouldn’t be sustainable if your companions want their physical forms back. And I imagine they would like their physical forms back?” 

“Yes!” 

“I want my body back.” 

“Dude not being heard is the worst!” 

“We also have injured students that require medical attention,” Aizawa said, a fact Izuku repeated for Kenius’ sake. 

Their eyes widened. “Oh, the poor dears. Yes, yes, yes. Medical attention too. Well, y’all could room down in the on-call rooms, but there’s nothing much to do down there. A few of my colleagues do like to set up their own camping spots out in the Forest, but…” Kenius’ face blanched for a moment before shaking their head. Izuku wondered what was out there to make the operator react that way. “No, no, there might be more to keep you busy, but it’s hardly suitable for the inexperienced. So I suppose... Hmmm…” 

The operator turned back to their computer and manipulated the touch screen, searching for something. “Yes! It looks like we have a couple of empty Viewing Rooms over in Recon and Development. Fantastic! I’ll just set you up in a Room with an interesting universe for entertainment. Ooh maybe 549-Viridian, or 4111-Wunderterror, or-” 

Kenius paused, their violet eyes sparked in glee, and Izuku had to steal his nerves not to give into the urge to back up at the sight. Their excited tapping finished with a flourish as a designation number flashed on their screen.

“728258-HCCW! Oh, I remember the first time I visited this universe. Didn’t stop to rest the entire time I was there!” They pressed a few more keys on their device “And from the preliminary data the Analyzer picked up before it died, I imagine it won’t be too dissimilar from your universe!”  

“Oooh a Viewing Room? Does that include pretty girls to view too? OW!” 

“Set up a universe?” 

“What’s going on?” 

“Viridian? Wunderterror?” 

Izuku closed his eyes and tried to block out the sounds of all the people asking questions behind him. Reminded clearly of the fact that Kenius could only hear him at this moment. 

“What’s a Viewing Room?” he asked, half-shocked his voice didn't sound as shaky as he felt. 

Kenius smiled brightly. “Oh, it’s certainly an experience. It’s one of the best perks of this job. Think of it like a movie theater. With access to every movie or show you’d ever want to watch. Except the movies are other universes.” 

“You can… watch universes?” 

“Yep!” they confirmed. “I mean, sure, if you have a license you could also visit the universes in person. But that requires so much extra paperwork. Sometimes you just want to settle down with a good handful of alternate universes and binge 'em from the comfort of a good chair.” 

“Like television?” 

Kenius nodded. “It can be a bit like that too. Depends on the mode. But oh-” they waved their hand in a dismissive gesture. “Don’t worry about all that. I’ll set up everything for you. HCCW in a contained mode should be just long enough to keep y’all busy for the few days I need to locate your universe. It'll even be educational, sort of. It's an account of a first-year exercise that 728258’s UA held.”  That statement caused even more chattering, and Izuku’s mind raced. An alternate universe UA - which would mean different versions of themselves, doing some kind of exercise. 

“There will be a console you can message me from if you need anything. And I’ll have medical supplies waiting for your injured members. Any questions?” 

Assorted muttering and commentary from his classmates aside, Izuku still felt like he was having a stroke over the sequence of events that had just occurred. Listless and unsure he turned to his teacher hoping the older man would have any additional questions to put a pause to the whirlwind. 

Unfortunately, Aizawa looked just as bewildered as he was by the experience. 

“Umm, I- I g-guess not,” Izuku admitted. 

Kenius smiled, fond and warm, like a smile Izuku would get from his mom. “I know this has all been overwhelming, but I promise y’all are safe and in good hands. I’ll get you home soon. Try to enjoy yourselves in the meantime. And who knows-” They reached out to a button on their desk and pressed it with a cheeky grin. “You may learn something.” 

The room disappeared in a flash of white lightning once more.

Chapter Text

The second transfer was a lot smoother than the first, thought Izuku. They were all awake and still standing - except Kendo and Aoyama being carried. His classmates and teacher’s forms were no longer hazy like they’d been in Kenius’ office, so it looked like they were back to being fully formed. 

The room they landed in was larger than Kenius’ office. Done in a more modern design- sleek black walls with red paneling giving the room a movie theater vibe helped by a giant screen covering an entire wall. Couches, chairs, and beanbags oriented towards the screen took up the majority of the space. Interspersed across the room were side tables with lamps, ottomans with comfy blankets folded on top, and coffee tables.

A large kitchen covered most of the opposite wall of the screen. With industrial-sized appliances and a fridge large enough to stuff a body or two inside. A long island counter held a couple of bowls filled with fresh fruit and nuts. A bright red first aid kit also sat on the counter.. 

To the kitchen’s left side was a door clearly marked with a sign labeled: Restrooms. While on the right side was a long hallway with several doors branching off. A sign at the hallway opening sported the label: Bedrooms.

A bright flash of light caught everyone’s attention as a black remote and two sheets of paper appeared on the coffee table in front of the large sectional. Present Mic grabbed the remote and read off what was on the first sheet of paper. 

Hope the transfer was easy on y’all. I placed the medical supplies on the counter. The restrooms have shower stalls so you can clean up if needed. (Goodness knows a fight can get messy.) I took note of your measurements when I transferred you back to physical forms, and took the liberty of acquiring some clothes if anyone needs a change. They should be in the labeled bedrooms. Like I said before, if y'all need anything just let me know. There is a console in the kitchen that can send me direct messages. 

Cheers! 

Kenius Verdance (Redirect Operator 1654) 

Present Mic sat down the first note. “Alright listeners!” he called out. “If you require medical assistance you can meet Midnight back in the kitchen.” Midnight was already on her way towards the island counter with Bondo, Shouji, Aoyama, and Kendo in tow. A few other students who were also bruised and scraped from the fight headed to join them. 

Aizawa stepped up beside him. “Everyone else hit the showers and change into non-destroyed clothes,” he drawled, glancing at Kirishima, although he could have easily directed the look at Tetsutetsu - who was also missing a large portion of his uniform. Kirishima blushed as red as his hair but headed off in the restroom’s direction. Class 1B as a whole hesitated, glancing at Vlad who nodded along with the instructions the other teachers gave. 

Izuku’s limbs ached a bit after his fight, but it was nothing that could be fixed by any medical supplies that he knew of - besides Recovery Girl’s quirk. A hot shower would honestly do him more good, so he joined the group and headed to the restrooms. 

The facilities were just as large as the ones the gyms at UA had split between a boys and girls section. Soon the rooms were full of steam, and the dirt and grime from their ambush battle at the museum drained out of sight. Large, fluffy white towels were provided, as everyone left to find new clothes to wear rather than the ripped uniforms summarily stuffed into trash cans. 

“This is so cool,” cried Kaminari walking into a room labeled with his name. Izuku found his own, situated between Monoma and Mineta. It was sparse, containing only a twin-sized bed and a wardrobe with a few pieces of clothing that, like Kenius’ note stated, fit perfectly. Izuku quickly changed into a green t-shirt and black pants. Soft to the touch. Beyond glad to be out of his singed uniform. A pair of house slippers sat by the door and he stuffed his feet into them before heading back to the main room. 

“It certainly was very considerate of Verdance-san to provide us with new clothes,” said Iida, emerging from his room in a white t-shirt and dark blue slacks, also sporting slippers. 

“Yeah, man we got lucky with such a nice bro to help us out!” said Kirishima, finally out of his own ripped clothing. 

Back in the main room, everyone had a chance to shower and change into new clothes. Sato and Uraraka had already investigated the kitchen, discovering a large container of popcorn kernels. The smell of the buttery treat drew out the last of the lingering students as buckets of the savory snack were prepared. 

The students traded their usual uniforms for comfy, or at least casual clothing. Most had seen each other around campus out of uniform in the past several months, so it wasn’t much of a shock. 

The teachers, though, had all been in their hero costumes, and despite living at the campus full time for a while now, very few students had ever seen what their teachers looked like without their associated costumes. The casual clothing was a touch jarring. It was the first time Izuku had seen Powerloader without his trademark yellow helmet, or Present Mic without his spiked hair. It felt a little strange. 

Well, for everyone except Aizawa, who was in a nearly identical black jumpsuit, with his capture scarf still wrapped around his neck. 

“Everyone accounted for?” asked Principal Nedzu, clad in a dark green jumper and black pants, which looked super comfy. When a cursory headcount showed everyone was in the room. Nedzu gestured to Mic. “Yamada-kun if you would read the second note for everyone?” 

Present Mic nodded. 

“Viewing Room Guide: 

Welcome to the Viewing Room #212 

A curated, cinematic, omniscient, omni-present, multi-POV structure has been selected for your viewing experience. This can include a limited selection viewing, non-linear narrative, unreliable narrators, internal thought projection, and multi-camera perspective . 

The projection will automatically pause during sustained audible conversation, and resume once the viewing space is silent.  

The remote can pause, rewind, and fast forward. Timestamp selection is included, as well as audio adjustment. 

Amenities necessary for: Third-Dimensional beings  have been included: seating, kitchen access, sustenance (mammals - dimensional subcategory 8-omni,carni,herbi) sleeping area, wash stations and waste receptacles 

All questions should be directed to your assigned case operator: Kenius Verdance (they/them) Redirect Operator 1654 

We hope you enjoy your experience!”

He blinked down at the paper with a touch of concern, out of place on his normal, exuberantly happy face. “Well, this all seems rather… interesting?” He hedged. Aizawa shot him an unimpressed look and claimed a spot on one of the black couches. 

“It’s what we have to deal with and we’re all relatively safe,” scoffed Aizawa. For now, was the unvoiced continuation. Mic snagged the seat next to him. Principal Nedzu climbed onto the couch’s arm, small enough to be comfortable for the white-furred stoat. 

“What does a curated, cinematic, omni-whatist mean?” asked Kirishima, who flopped onto a yellow bean bag in the corner.

“It means we’re watching a movie shitty-hair!” yelled Kaachan, who secured a single red chair for himself. Complete with a soft white blanket draped over his lap. “Did you listen to the vampire wannabe operator?” The Bakusquad dragged bean bag chairs over to surround their friend, though he didn’t look particularly happy about it.  

“Scooch over Denks. I need a spot too!” said Mina, clothed in a long purple nightgown and fuzzy pink slippers, carrying two giant buckets of popcorn for her friends, and two smaller separate ones for her and Bakougo - neither of them shared food just in case their acid or nitroglycerin stood a chance of poisoning people.  

“Come on kiddies, find a seat,” said Midnight, who snagged a spot at the end of a couch next to Powerloader. Adorned in a large hoodie and baggy sweatpants, a sight honestly more jarring than Present Mic’s ungelled hair. Power Loader, who’d removed his ever-present yellow helmet, was in a flannel and jeans with his shaggy hair covering most of his face. 

1A and 1B slowly dispersed throughout the room, claiming spots and blankets, which never seemed to run out. 

“Hey Ten Million, over here!” cried Mei, patting the seat next to her on a deep red sectional. Izuku collected a green fuzzy blanket on his way over and curled into the offered corner spot. Both Shouto and Iida found seats nearby, while Uraraka swiped a pillow and sat on the floor in front of the couch. 

“Is it weird that I’m really excited about this?” she asked, grinning widely. “Like, it’s a whole other universe! Other versions of us!” Izuku could hear similar conversations around them, it seemed like everyone - despite their general nervousness about the situation - was excited to see what this other universe held. 

“I wonder how similar it will be to our universe?” asked Iida. 

Momo was curled up against the sectional’s other end, her large navy sweater and white leggings looking soft and comfortable. “I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see,” she mused. 

“Are we all ready to start?” Present Mic called out. The response was a mix of excitement and nervous agreement from the group. Izuku curled himself further into his spot on the large sectional. Kenius looked excited about the universe they’d selected for viewing, and they had been very helpful, logic stood to reason that Kenius wouldn’t subject them to something too terrible. 

Still, there was a large part of himself that felt nervous. 

Something about this felt… important. He couldn’t tell if the feeling in his chest was curiosity or dread. 

Knowing his luck; it was probably both.

Mic pressed a button on the black remote, and the large screen flickered to life displaying the designation: HCCW-RD-728258-3. Then it turned to black before large bold letters announced the title: HERO CLASS CIVIL WARFARE

“Oh,” said Sero, “I guess that’s what HCCW stands for.” Everyone nodded along as the designation’s letters finally made sense.

The title faded away, and the black screen shifted to the image of a small city.

“Hmm, that appears to be Training Ground F,” mused Nedzu, the city a common spot for urban tactics training. Not normally used so early with first-year students. Although perhaps with this batch, more urban fighting practice wouldn’t go amiss. 

At the bottom of the screen, the words: 1 hour until the exam begins popped up before the invisible camera shifted to one of the many buildings inside the fake city. Inside was a meeting table with many students from 1A and 1B gathered around to discuss a plan of patrol for the city. 

“An inter-class activity?” mused Sekijiro, his arms crossed over a comfortable long-sleeved red shirt. He caught Aizawa’s concerned glance. They didn’t normally plan inter-class activities, especially for the first years. It caused far more trouble than the benefits would outweigh. The students were still learning how to really utilize their powers without killing themselves or their classmates. Large-scale inter-class cooperation could come later. 

“Well it would have been a travesty if this was only about 1A,” cried Neito, glad to see the familiar faces of some of his classmates on the screen. Although he noted, that he was missing, maybe he was just elsewhere in the building?

The sound of a message notification interrupted the meeting, and Katsuki scowled, pulling the phone from his pocket. On the screen, sat a live-streaming link. 

 

Who the hell was this?

Izuku and the room’s other inhabitants were startled. The voice belonged to Kaachan, but his lips hadn’t moved when the voice came through the speaker. 

“Woah,” said Kirishima, frowning in concern. “Can this thing, like, read our thoughts? Not manly bro!” 

Izuku hoped he wasn’t included in this. He did not want anyone to hear his thoughts. Chancing a look at his childhood friend, Kaachan crossed his arms and glared at the screen with the fury of a thousand suns. Less than a minute into this “viewing” and already this was not looking great. 

“I do believe that is what the Viewing Guide meant by internal thought projection,” mused the principal. “How fascinating!” 

Katsuki paused and tapped the link, throwing the feed to one of the screens in the room, drawing the attention of his classmates. The screen was covered in glitched-out static that slowly faded to black on red, a shape coalescing in the darkness.

“Freaky!” 

“Super cool!” 

“How is the screen doing that?” 

“Everyone shut up! Whoa, is that-”

Soon the shape, which many of them recognized as Midoriya Izuku, came into focus, though the details were still cast in deep shadows. He was wearing some sort of hat with two feathery shapes that looked similar to the bunny ears of his hero costume sticking off the sides.

Izuku felt his heart plummet into his stomach. Oh no.  

“Deku is that you?” cried Ururaka. 

“I think so,” he muttered, eyes not leaving the image of his onscreen self. Though mostly cast in shadow, Izuku noticed the details of the suit his counterpart wore and knew immediately this was no ordinary class exercise. 

This required planning. 

“Hello, heroes,” came a low drawl, almost scratchy and dry sounding. The tone was cold, and threatening. Shock was evident on all the faces of the 1-A students. 

“Midoriya, are you… The villain for this exercise?” asked Tsu, shocked that her brightest classmate could sound so… evil. 

Izuku was silent as his mind worked overtime on what kind of exercise would require him to act like this. 

“Ha!” laughed Katsuki from his spot, the earlier shock from having his own thoughts spoken out loud fading, as he watched Deku’s onscreen counterpart utterly embarrass himself with cheap threat tactics.  “Deku as a villain? This exam will be a piece of cake!” 

Meanwhile, all the teachers had turned their attention to Nedzu, the small mammal practically vibrating where he perched. Already, the drama unfolding on screen had gripped everyone present. 

 

“I know that you think you are prepared for me. That you think you are ready to fight me and my team.” Iida, Kirishima, and Uraraka all glanced back to see a scowling Katsuki, eyes narrowed and focused, with Todoroki at his side.

“Oh,” pouted Uraraka, “Looks like we aren’t on the same team.” She wondered why her on-screen counterpart wasn’t on her best friend’s team. Sure, being a villain wasn’t something she wanted to do, but she was always on Deku’s side! Maybe the teams were pre-set before the exercise? 

“By all means, come for me. Hunt me. Show me what you’re made of.”

 

The silhouette leaned forwards, revealing Midoriya wore a form-fitting face mask cast in the shape of a jester’s smile.

“Whoh!” 

“Scary!” 

“That looks sick!” 

"Where'd you get that Midoriya?” 

Izuku couldn’t get over the words his onscreen self was saying, or how he was saying them. Alternate Izuku oozed confidence and power, like he had nothing to be afraid of, because he had everything planned, and all of this was just part of the show. 

“Oh, and Kacchan, or should I say Paragon?” Midoriya chuckled, voice childish and innocent.  

Izuku winced at the teasing tone his counterpart used when addressing his childhood friend. He would never try to sound that gleeful around the explosive boy. That was a one-way ticket to an explosion far too near his face for comfort. He didn’t risk another glance back in the direction of Kaachan’s spot, even with the all too familiar weight of burning red eyes on the back of his neck. 

“I hope you’re ready. This test is going to be... explosive.”

“That sounds like a threat,” muttered Hizashi, low enough no one but Shota and Nedzu could hear him. 

Shota scoffed lowly. “This is Problem Child,” he responded, eyes not daring to leave the screen lest something be missed. “That’s not a threat, it’s a promise.” 

Nedzu’s smile grew even broader. Oh yes, despite the situation’s multiple concerns - and even greater implications ( the multiverse was a confirmable fact!) - he had no doubt this universe Kenius picked out for them might truly give them an insight into All Might’s chosen successor. 

After all, the mysterious little operator said this universe wasn’t all too dissimilar from their own. 

The feed cut out, and the rest of the hero team turned to look at Katsuki.  

 

He had twenty-four heroes from both Class 1-A and 1-B who spent the last five days figuring out tactics and working on getting in sync. 

“That means I have sixteen people,” muttered Izuku, once again shocked they could hear Kaachan’s inner thoughts, as it was very clear the explosive boy’s onscreen counterpart wasn’t talking aloud. “I wonder who…” Already, his eyes were darting around the gathered 1A and 1B students on screen. Kirishima, Sero, Mineta, Tetsutetsu, Tsunotori… 

He had the heavy hitters of the school. The strongest, the best. And he would prove it.

“Aww, Bakubro!” cried Eijirou, pearls of tears welling in his eyes. He knew the blonde was prickly on the outside, and yelly, and sometimes really mean. But deep down in his heart of hearts, he knew Bakugou was a good person. It just would take a while for the other boy to ever admit it.  “You calling us the best?” 

“Shut up shitty hair!” Fuck, Katsuki hated this. Why did fucking Deku have to get them all blasted into this shitty situation in the first place. 

“Everyone go get suited up. Get ready,” he called out, as the faces of the class grew serious. “We’ll crush them as soon as we get the go-ahead.”

“We are the heroes!” cried Iida. “Of course we will be victorious!” Izuku couldn’t resist the small smile at his friend’s exuberance. Iida settled back against the couch and glanced over at Izuku. “Um, no offense, Midoriya-kun, we shall remain friends, of course.” 

“Always, Iida,” said Izuku. He would never force any of his friends to fight for the villain side, as it looked like both Uraraka and Shouto also joined Kaachan’s team. With the way the players were distributed - not being precisely equal - he had a feeling, the students picked which side they were on. 

Given they were hero students, at the best hero school in the country, if not the entire world, Izuku considered convincing sixteen of the forty collective first-year students to be villains was not a bad showing on his part. From the looks of who was in the meeting room, Kaachan did indeed possess some heavy hitters, but Izuku was sure whoever had ended up on his team would do amazing. 

Everyone had such wonderful quirks after all. And they all worked so hard. Even if they were fighting for the wrong side, he was sure that they would give Kaachan a truly worthy battle. 

And just like that, Izuku may have begun to understand why his onscreen self felt so confident. 

The scene faded, the screen turning to black as another set of words appeared:

7 days before the exam

“Ah, I bet this is that non-linear narrative coming into play,” said Kayama. It really was like they were watching a movie, and as far as she was concerned, that was the best way to view it. Trying to wonder how much of this world was like their world would only prove an exercise in frustration and paranoia. Although by the intense looks already on Shouta, Hizashi, and Nezu’s faces, she doubted those three would listen to sound advice.

The screen shifted to the inside of UA. Classes 1-A and 1-B were gathered in the auditorium, mumbling and whispered questions flying back and forth. They stood in huddled groups, glancing up at the empty stage. 

 

“What are we doing here?”

 

“Think it has something to do with the hero-killer?” 

Tenya’s entire body stiffened at the mention of that wretched fiend. He would always be grateful for Midoriya-kun and Shoto-kun for coming to save him from his thoughtless, reckless actions. But at times, he very much wished he had succeeded in his revenge mission against Stain. Even if it would have destroyed the rest of his future, his brother deserved to be avenged. 

Even if his brother, parents, friends, and therapist all reminded him that it wasn’t his responsibility to enact that avenging. 

“Maybe our internships?”

 

“Didn’t some of the 1A students come home early?” 

 

No one knew. Less than two weeks ago they had been under internships, but now, without any warning, they were gathered.

Izuku once again felt ill as words were heard through the room’s speakers. Not coming from a particular mouth but in a particular voice. A voice that was very familiar. His own. 

“Well, at least we know when this is taking place,” he muttered, loud enough that several people around him heard and nodded. Likely this exercise was right before, or taking the place of, their final term exams. This meant the Work Studies, the dorms, the licensing exam, the battle at Kamino, and the field trip all hadn’t happened yet in this world. 

In their world, they were closer to the end of their first year at UA, than their on-screen counterparts were to the beginning of their time at the hero school. Yet, so much had already happened in their short time as students. 

Soon enough, the sound of a whining microphone sent winces through the crowd. They looked up, seeing the small form of Principal Nedzu stand before the students on the podium.

 

For most of the students it only added to their confusion, but the few students who had reason to interact with the principal felt chills run down their spines.

In the viewing room, those students - and all the teachers - who did have reasons to interact closely with the principal mirrored that chill. The stoat barely repressed his own maniacal grin; it felt good to keep the humans on their toes after all. 

“Welcome Classes 1-A and 1-B, it’s a pleasure that you’re all here today. Today is the start of one of our yearly exercises; the Class Civil War!” This caused more murmurs, people whispering questions amongst themselves.  

“So this is a yearly thing,” muttered Itsuka, feeling much better after applying the numbing spray to her head. Along with a shower and fresh clothes, she felt leagues better than earlier. She watched her own counterpart on the screen, hair visibility shorter than the longer pony she sported now. 

“Do we have something like this at our UA?” asked Tsuburaba. 

“Nope!” grinned Nedzu, with a certain amount of glee in his voice. All of the teachers and quite a few students flinched at that tone. Not yet was the unstated, but well-heard continuation. 

 

In the middle of the crowd, Midoriya Izuku felt a flicker of recognition. He knew of this, but he couldn't place where he had heard of it before. He thought it was off of a hero training forum… dammit.

 

Several people in the room flinched back. Midoriya's passion shone through in everything he did. And they’d all heard him scream his lungs out over the year, but swearing generally wasn’t his deal. That lay more with Bakugou. 

“As you all know, a hero’s job is to be wise, powerful, and proactive against evil wherever they find it. But often, you may find the other side of the law possesses the same traits, and you must learn to adapt, to improvise and overcome!” Nedzu was moving emphatically with his words, silencing the crowd as they all focused on him.  

 

“As such, we will have two teams, the leaders of whom shall be chosen at random. 

Izuku didn’t buy that. If this exercise was similar to the end-of-term final they took, then placing him opposite Kaachan had been a deliberate move on the part of the staff and the principal. He wondered what their reasoning was for it. Depending on who else appeared in this projection, he might find out that reasoning. 

Shouta sat on his couch, right hand subtly entwined with his husband’s, watching an alternate version of his boss lie his ass off to a group of children. There was no way the villain and hero team leaders were “randomly” selected, not with Midoriya and Bakugou playing opposites. This was a logical ruse, but to what end he didn’t know quite yet. 

However! The choice to be a hero or a villain is up to the rest of you. Do you wish to challenge yourself, to act in a new mindset as a villain, as a counterforce? Or do you wish to prove yourself as a hero, putting your potential into your dream? I can’t wait to find out! Present Mic, If you please!” 

“Look, there’s me!” Hizashi’s yelp of surprise was cut off by a sharp red glare from his husband. He huffed, well, fine, if no one else was excited about seeing their alternate universe selves, he could enjoy the excitement alone. 

With that Nedzu stepped off the podium and Present Mic took the stage.

 

There were a few scattered cheers from the crowd at that, along with determined grins and intense stares.

 

“Now we shall choose the leaders of the heroes and the villains! These positions are locked and you must accept the role. Often, circumstance is what leads to greatness or leadership, so shall it be here too! First, the leader of the heroes, the Paragon! IT IIIIIIS...” 

 

The left side screen behind the podium flickered on, the faces of students flying past… 

 

His pulse was racing, would it be him? Oh god, the nerves! 

“Why would it be you, Deku?” Katsuki crowed. “We already saw that it would be me.” As it should be, he would show that nerd he was the best with everything. Even if they had come to a truce over things in the past few months, it didn’t mean he would let up on the little crybaby for a second. He wondered how his counterpart would hold up here, so early on in the year before any of the shit that went down later in the summer happened. 

The flickering faces began to slow, coming to a stop to reveal–

 

“BAKUGOU KKAAATTTSSSUUUUKIIIII!!!!!” Present Mic yelled, gesturing for a prideful and demonically grinning Bakugou to take his place at the right side of the podium. 

 

Behind them the image changed, a white crown animation coming to rest on Bakugou's headshot, and the Katakana for ‘Paragon’ appeared under his name.  

 

The assorted students looked interested, but some gave off the feeling of being less than enthused.

 

(That's important, mark them down. Just in case.)

Izuku felt the eyes of other students on him. But he couldn’t say anything against what his onscreen counterpart was thinking, he too took stock of the students who looked less than pleased with the announcement of Kaachan as the Paragon. This was a rigged game, the students choosing which sides they wanted to be on. A split-second reaction during the announcement was advantageous; it marked the best candidates to go after to convince to join the villain’s side. 

Ochako glanced upwards at Izuku. He’d been distinctly shocked during the first section where they learned he would play Villain to Bakugou’s Hero, but now his face had shifted to one of concentration and observation. The same look his screen counterpart was sporting. She never thought it would take universe-hopping to get an insight into her best friend’s mind, but now with the opportunity laid out before her, she wasn’t too surprised at the anxiety, but this level of quick calculation was… odd. 

Not that she didn’t think her friend was smart! She totally did! But even just a few minutes into this and she already saw the gears turning in his mind. The cold, villainous tone from the first section still rang, and she wondered if her own Izuku was capable of such cruel words.  

“And now, for the villain, the Kingpin, the darkness who you will face against...!” The roll began again, flickering through faces.  

“We know it’s going to be Midooriya!” 

“Don’t keep us waiting, Yamada-sensei.” 

“Ooh, I wonder what picture they’ll use!?” 

Suddenly he felt a shiver go up and down his spine.

 

He already knew what was going to happen.

“Good instincts, Problem Child,” Shouta commented. Just like everyone else, his attention was split between watching the screen and watching Midoriya watch the screen. Despite it being an alternate universe, with these children not even experiencing half of what their first-year future had in store for them, this was still Midoriya. Although this entire endeavor reeked of invasion of privacy, the draw to see what the green-haired problem child made of his on-screen counterpart's actions was too good to pass up. 

Almost to the end of their first school year, and Shouta still didn’t feel like he had the best read on the boy. He hated that this cluterfuck of reality-bending proportions was probably his best - if highly unethical - way to get a glimpse of the child’s mind. 

Looking down at Nedzu, who watched the screen and Midoriya with unrestrained glee, he figured he was not the only one taking advantage of the opportunity. At least he had the restraint not to show it as much as the diabolical stoat. 

Midoriya startled and looked over at Shouta, eyes wide at the compliment. He then ducked his head and went back to observing the screen intently. 

As the roll call slowed, and the final picture appeared , 

 

He knew he was right.

 

“MIDORIYA IZZUUUKUUU!!!!!” Present Mic screamed at the world, finger pointed straight at Izuku.

“Of course, it would be 1A’s golden child,” muttered Neito. Although the on-screen confirmation was nothing more than additional proof after the first scene they watched, it still stung to watch two 1A students stand on the podium as the leaders of this inter-class exercise. They couldn’t have had at least one of the team leaders be from 1B? 

Of course not. Typical. 

Yes, there it was, green hair with a black crown animated on the brow, red background behind him. The title of Kingpin across his torso, highlighted in glowing red Katakana, and a shy smile on his photo’s expression. 

“Aww, that’s an adorable picture of Midoriya!” said Mina. 

Shouto fiddled with his phone and snapped a picture of the picture. He was recording as much of this as possible. He wanted plenty of evidence to prove the multiverse theory was true. Yayozoru, seated next to him, was doing the same thing. 

Plus, maybe, possibly, the picture of Midoriya was… cute.  

Without registering it, he had already made his way up to the podium. He felt like the world was glazed.

Hizashi internally cursed. That sounded like dissociation. He looked over at the little listener, whose face blushed slightly red, but was intently focused on the screen and not the looks of concern being shot his way. 

“Yeah, that feeling kinda happens when I sometimes overload myself with electricity,” said Kaminari with a wince. “ Does that happen to you in our world, Mido?” 

“I think that’s normal for sending as much electricity as you do through your brain, Kaminari. I think my alternate self is just a little shocked.” 

Hizashi glanced at Shouta, and they both had the same thought: Midoriya hadn’t answered the question. 

Was he having a panic attack… no, maybe? No, just feels like a minor shock. Oh. Fun. Good to know. Fuck.

“Whoa, Midobro swearing. Huh! Thought that was more Bakubro’s thing.” 

“Shut up shitty hair, the nerd grew up with me. Of course he fucking knows how to curse.” 

Hizashi watched Midoriya throw a sly look at the explosive blonde. “What are you talking about, Kaachan? I would never swear, it’s rude and unprofessional for a hero.” Ouch, if that wasn’t an underhanded insult right there. Hizashi resisted the urge to smile. 

“Exactly, Bakugou-kun, Midoriya-kun would never engage in such language,” defended Iida. Several of their classmates agreed. Hizashi himself had never heard the kid swear before. Yell his lungs out? Sure. Break far too many limbs? Absolutely. But swear? Nope. 

Bakagou sputtered indignantly, but Midoriya just sat in his seat looking innocent as a lamb, despite just very clearly hearing a barely younger alternate version of himself swearing on screen, but having more than half his class back him up that he would never use foul language. 

Exchanging a glance with his husband, they both recalled multiple conversations where Midoriya’s near-magnetic charisma was a prominent discussion topic. This right here was a prime example of that. And it was just meant to mess around with Bakagou a bit. It was… concerning. 

Present Mic was still talking, laying out a schedule for the next week. Tomorrow at midnight was the deadline to join a team, you had to have it declared to a teacher. Rooms would be set up for each team leader to plan and organize. A rulebook would be provided after the meeting; and could the two leaders stay behind? The rest of the classes filed out, slowly growing louder as they talked and debated with each other.

Izuku, already over the majority of the shock of being chosen as the Villain leader from the first scene, paid close attention to the rules and timeline Present Mic laid out. While he wasn’t personally in the situation like his onscreen counterpart, he did think that it might be… fun figuring out what the plan would be. His fingers twitched for a pen and one of his notebooks, but he didn’t have anything like that here. Maybe he could message Kenius on that console… 

Izuku was drowning that out, instead…

 

Instead, he was having a crisis of faith.

 

Should he try to truly be a villain? To go against his own deeply ingrained morals and aim to win? 

Toshinori’s eyes flickered between the screen where a younger-but-not-that-much-younger Midoriya internally struggled with a moral choice, and the couch where his Midoriya, the bright, vibrant boy who endured so much in the past several months, sat stock still as his screen counterpart faced that impossible choice. 

Oh, he knew the alternate Midoriya would rise to the challenge. That single early clip of him taunting the heroes with a video link already showed a level of cunning and preparation distinctively indicative of Midoriya’s go-beyond Plus Ultra attitude. 

He just hoped the poor boy didn’t drive himself too far into the mindset of a Villain just to win a game, though. 

 

Or should he let the heroes, the position he held so close to his heart, take the win without a fight?

“Pfft. If you throw the fight I’ll be fucking pissed at you nerd. Not that I won’t crush you, but it better not be a pity win. I don’t do fucking pity wins.” Katsuki sent a scathing glare at Half-n-half, who just stared at him with an unimpressed blank stare. 

Deku rolled his eyes, which only boiled the blood in Katsuki’s veins faster. “We’re not the ones fighting here, Kaachan, we just get to watch.” Katsuki rubbed off the accumulated sweat onto the blanket and told himself to breathe, he wouldn't succeed in setting a blast on the little nerd. Not when he was halfway across the room and surrounded by his posse. 

The meeting passed in a blur. 

 

Bakugou sneering and muttering curses as he listened to the rules. 

“He isn’t paying attention,” muttered Izuku. 

“What was that ten mill?” responded Mei in a tone just as soft. 

“Alternate Kaachan is just taking the surface presentation of the exercise and dismissing all the rest. In his mind, it’s a one-and-done type of event, but I don’t think that's how I would- I mean, how alternate me will play it.”  

When Izuku was handed his copy, he began to focus once more. He picked up the basic parameters, the words piercing through the haze of dissociation.

Shouta wanted to bang his head against a table or maybe drink. Drinking would probably be appropriate for this situation right about now. No matter how much he tended to avoid the substance. Of course, the Problem Child knew what dissociation felt like. Hell, he was pretty sure half of, if not more of, his class had panic attacks, if not their forms of unhealthy coping mechanisms. 

It was honestly a hazard of the job when it came to heroics. 

But still, this universe was short of a couple of traumatic disasters, so for Midoriya to still be so familiar with the sensation…

The practical part of the exam was in seven days and would have a three-day time limit. Each team would have to be finalized and delivered to the teachers on Monday, two days from now. The five-day stretch from Tuesday to Saturday would have a lighter class load so the teams could plan, coordinate, and ready themselves.

Izuku now desperately wished he had a notebook, his thoughts spinning in so many directions. Who could be on the villain team? What could he conceivably accomplish in seven days' time? How would-

With that, they were dismissed. Kaachan stormed out with a look on his face that screamed he was going recruiting. 

Katsuki already knew the extras from that opening scene alone were decent hitters. Whoever else was missing from that meeting would be more than enough to take down Deku and whatever shitty plans he had worked up in that nerd brain of his. 

Izuku got up to follow, but as he left, Present Mic caught his attention.

 

“Hey, Midoriya! Aizawa and Nedzu wanted to talk to you. After all, you need to know your objectives.”

 

Wait. Objectives?

The screen faded on Midoriya looking at Present Mic in confusion. 

Izuku smiled, so there was more than just a straight-up fight between the heroes and the villains. There was structure. Goals. 

“I don’t know if this is very, very cool-” Kaibara started. 

“Or very, very invasive,” Awase finished with a grimace. 

“How about both,” chimed in Izuku, shooting both 1B boys a smile, when they gave him a thumbs up. 

“I mean, we could… stop watching it,” said one of the other support course students, Izuku unfortunately didn’t know the name of. “Like, this place is nice enough, we could just… hang for a couple of days until that Kenius person gets us back home.” 

Silence stretched in the watching room for a moment or two. 

“I mean…” started Jiro. “It’s not really us. So it isn’t that invasive. And Kenius was right this could be… informative,” she landed on, her look of curiosity just barely contained. 

“Yeah.” 

“She’s right.” 

“I mean really what’s the harm?” 

“It’s kinda cool.” 

“Well then,” announced Principal Nedzu, clapping his paws together. “If we’re all over the moral conundrum of observing the lives of these alters, shall we continue?”

Izuku was under no illusions that his principal would have continued the viewing whether everyone else wanted to or not. This was information. Potentially entertaining information, that had a high likelihood of being utterly chaotic, if these alternate versions of his classmates were as chaotic as his own. Even though it felt highly invasive, Izuku was just as curious as everyone else. Continue they would.

Chapter Text

“Everyone ready?” Hizashi asked the room at large. After the informal consensus to continue watching the alternate universe, the students broke into excited conversation, wondering who would be on what team - besides the few already confirmed Heroes - and what would happen throughout the exercise. A three-day long exercise. None of them had ever done anything like that before. 

Unless you counted the summer camp, which, collectively, both classes liked to try to forget that entire nightmare. 

“Alright, here we go.” Pressing the play button the screen shifted from the black void again. Instead of the UA gymnasium, it was back to the meeting room in the training city. At the bottom of the screen read the words: 

Day 1: 6 hours, 0 minutes: (6:00 am, local time)

 

“Welcome to your mission briefing. Until now, you have not known the precise parameters of your mission.” 

“Aww, really?” whined Kirishima. Shouta stopped himself from rolling his eyes and groaning. “We’re gonna be behind!” 

Shouta couldn’t stop the unimpressed sigh. Even a year into training some of his students still had an innate concept of fairness and where they thought it should be applicable. 

Time for a quick reminder. 

“That’s the reality for a lot of heroes,” Shouta said, looking over his class with a sharp eye. He knew they experienced working on the backfoot - continual encounters with the League of Villains a constant test of their skills and survival instincts. But that didn’t mean they truly understood battling with restricted and limited information. “More often than not you will be working on a deficit of information when it comes to your enemy. Do not let this discourage you, work to be smarter and flexible. Understood?” 

He wouldn’t admit the immediate and firm response of “Yes Sensei!” made his chest fill with pride. His kids- students. His students would learn what he had to teach them to survive and they would learn well. 

His attention turned back to his onscreen self. 

Aizawa-sensei stood before the assembled hero team. They were in their costumes, each with some variant of the UA symbol backed by wings added to represent them being part of the same team.

“Hey, we all look pretty good!” said Kamakiri, leaning back against a comfortable chair. “The group’s larger this time. Looks like this is everyone on the hero team!” That caused the entire room to burst into chatter about who was there and who wasn’t. Cries of excitement and surprise at the choice of whether or not they were a hero or had turned sides and picked the villains. 

Izuku’s hands flexed once again as the scope of the two teams' makeups became clear to him. He really wanted a notebook. 

A small flash of white to his left side caught his attention. Sitting on the couch’s side table was a standard black notebook and black and red pens. Stuck to the front was a purple sticky note with a smiley face and the initials K.V. written in sparkly silver ink. 

Eagerly snatching the book, he jotted down the names of the teams; he also decided to ignore the very real possibility of Kenius being able to read his mind. For the sake of his sanity.  

“MINA!! Where are you!?” cried Denki, his pink friend nowhere to be seen on the screen with the rest of the heroes. 

Mina cackled, stuffing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Sorry, boys! Looks like I’m with the villains for this one. Ya good with that Midoriya?” 

She glanced over to see the green-haired boy, scribbling furiously in a notebook. Where in the world had he gotten that? 

“Sounds great Mina,” he said, giving a vague thumbs up in her direction. Mina, Monoma, Kendou, Momo… He grinned victoriously at that one. Oh, having the class’s vice president would be a huge advantage in pulling off whatever plans he came up with. That would mean more resources on the fly…

“Alright kiddos,” said Midnight when the classes grew loud and heated over who ended up on each side of the exercise. “There will be plenty of time to discuss this all later. Let’s get back to watching, shall we?” 

Reluctantly they all grew quiet again, and the screen started to play again. 

Katsuki stood at the front, looking over the screens behind Aizawa. He took in what information they had. 

 

“That’s because, in the real world, you rarely know what your opponent is after. One hour ago, when the villains entered the city, the test began.”

 

Uraraka blinked in surprise, hearing mutters and curses from the other heroes.

Several similar curses arose from the watchers as they realized the villain team had already started the exercise while they had just been ensconced in the fake hero agency. 

Hizashi barked out a laugh. “There’s no countdown in the real world, listeners!” His little lesson at the beginning of the school’s hero exam practical was a personal favorite of his. And one of the first lessons a potential new hero student receives about the difficulties of the job. 

“The chosen field for this is a place neither class has ever had a reason to visit before; Training Ground F, known among students as the Downtown District. It is a full ten-by-ten block of skyscrapers and apartments, modeled after the likes of New York and downtown Tokyo.” 

 

He turned and tapped the computer behind him, pulling up a video feed.

 

Izuku glanced between his new notebook and the screen where the map had been pulled up. Already he could see the possibilities dancing before his eyes of what a real city would allow his alternate self to accomplish. 

“Where’d you get that ten million?” Mei whispered. 

“Kenius gave it to me,” he returned just as silently. Hoping their quiet discussion wouldn’t stop the screen from continuing to play. Thankfully it didn’t. Screen Aizawa continued explaining the situation the heroes had facing them. 

“Three unmarked white trucks entered the city at the start of the hour, the villains using them as an entry vector. One of them had a signal transceiver attached to the top, and we believe that is where the video that was sent to you was live-streamed from. Traffic cameras tracked two of the box trucks, but the third—the one with the transceiver—took a back alley and seemed to disappear.”

“The detail expanded for this exercise goes to show UA’s dedication to going Plus Ultra,” said Yagi, speaking up for the first time since everyone had arrived. Hizashi had almost forgotten the other blond-haired man was there. 

Kan scoffed, “Maybe a little too much sometimes. It’s only a versus training match after all, even if it’s supposed to occur over three days.” 

Nedzu chuckled, a sound which drove braver men to freeze in terror, but which only made most of the students and teachers have a mild chill run down their spine. “Oh, I imagine we would spare no expense on making this as realistic as it could be. All for the benefit of our students, of course.” 

“Yeah,” muttered Hizashi lowly enough it would only be heard by his husband and his boss. “For the student’s benefit. Nothing to do with how you’re a chaos-seeking gremlin with a taste for explosions, and living for teenage drama.” To be fair he was also a chaos gremlin, which is why he and Nedzu got along so well. 

Nedzu sent a sharp grin back at his former personal student. “Well, one can only threaten the Commission so many times before the repeated assassination attempts grow weary. Other avenues of entertainment are much appreciated.” 

“At this point in time, we have no idea what exactly their plan is, but most Support analysts agree this has the markings of a hostage situation. There are ‘civil-bots’ in most public places, simple mannequins with basic motor functions and sensors. Keep them alive and safe. They will run from fights and danger, replicating normal civilian reactions, but the villains can and will take them hostage.”

“...if the bots are liable to act as civilians that means there's likely to be a social aspect to the objectives. If there is a likely chance for certain types of crimes or heroics… that needs to be factored into overall play… I wonder if the information being given has already been tampered with, as purposeful information obfuscation would be a potential mark of a villain…” Izuku’s voice was low as he watched the screen, and his hand reflexively wrote coded notes into his newly given notebook. 

“Deku…” Ochako tilted her head back, catching a glimpse of her friend. She was glad to see the majority of the nerves had bled out of his frame, but he had now descended into what she and Iida lovingly called ‘A Mutter Storm’. She placed a hand - careful to avoid setting down her pinky - on his pant leg, which caused the boy to jump. 

A light blush spread up his cheeks. “Sorry, Uraraka. Got a little too excited.” 

She smiled back. Her best friend was just too cute for his own good at times. “You’re all good!” 

The screen changed once more, the video of the trucks vanishing to show one of the trucks backing up and parking at a loading dock. Four figures in loose black jumpsuits, covered with hooded jackets, got out and began pulling cases from the truck.

“Oooh, I wonder who that is?” 

“I think that looks like you!” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I'm much too fabulous and unique to wear all black!” 

“This is the back camera from the bank in the city. Soon after that, all camera feeds to and from the bank stopped.”

Izuku hummed, as he took in the information Aizawa relayed to the heroes. So it seemed he and the Villains controlled the security feeds. This made sense; the first step to outsmarting Kaachan and winning this exercise would be controlling where the heroes went. Directing their flow of information would help accomplish such. Hacking wasn’t a skill he’d ever used too much before. Izuku’s computer at home was too old and run down for any real practice with hacking. Unless his alternate self had a different setup and skill set, which… could be possible.

He eyed over the list of classmates on the villain’s side and wondered who might possess those skills; and if it applied to their world as well. Perhaps Jirou with her future as an Informational/Surveillance hero picked up the skill? Momo might have a passing familiarity with computer programs. It could be a 1B student too, he wasn’t as familiar with their skill sets. 

The screen flickered to another unloading; five equally disguised figures stepped out of another truck. All of them were armed with briefcases and carrying boxes of supplies.

 

“This is the only camera we have access to at the government building across the district from the bank. It seems the villains have split up, attacking multiple locations at once.”

“Nope, that's definitely you!” 

“I wonder what’s in all the boxes?” 

“Splitting your forces is an interesting opening move,” mused Present Mic. Izuku paused in his scribbling, and his eyes darted over to the Voice Hero. Leaning forward, with his elbows on his knees, the normally bright and loud teacher was silent and calculating. “You run the risk of stretching yourself too thin in the open - especially when your opponents are also fresh and coordinated.” 

“I-I think my counterpart is trying to gauge how Kaach- I mean Paragon plans to or-organize his forces. The opening move was entering the city before the heroes even knew the exercise had started, that and the v-video taunt. It’s to offset Kaachan and make him irrational,” Izuku finished, stronger than how he started his reply to the English teacher. 

“Solid reasoning, little listener,” the man replied, an impressed smile on his face. Izuku was well aware of the man’s public stats, and how they did not line up to his image of a loud, boisterous, and sometimes ditzy hero. Present Mic’s Intelligence was rated higher than even Aizawas’, which meant his hero persona was likely a smokescreen for his true abilities. 

“I'M NOT IRRATIONAL!” Bakagou screamed from his chair, a threatening cackle exploding in his hand. Aizawa flashed his eyes red, and the explosions stopped. 

“Wow, Midoriya, you've already figured out how your alternate self is going to lead us to victory and make Bakugou mad in one sentence!” cried Mina.

“I suppose he won’t be that bad of a leader if he’s already thought that much out,” mumbled Monoma from the back. “Still did it have to be 1A?” 

“SHUT UP MONOMA!” 

Izuku ducked his head as the weight of many interested and disbelieving eyes hit him. How was this only the beginning of the projection? And Kenius said this was likely to take them two to three days !? 

The screens changed, the conference table that the heroes were gathered around lighting up with a hologram of the simulated city.

 

“Paragon, the mission command is yours. Your objectives are to detain or eliminate all villains, while avoiding civilian casualties or collateral damage to the best of your abilities. Your priority, however, is to bring in the subject ‘Kingpin’ alive for questioning.” 

“Tch,” Katsuki clicked with a grin, the anger from Deku’s insulting analysis fading. “This is gonna be a piece of cake. Are you ready to get your ass beat Deku?” 

“It’s not us up there Kaachan,” the nerd replied, not even bothering to look up from his stupid notebook and- WHERE DID HE GET ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE!

Growling from across the room, deep-seated rage bubbled up at the sight of another stupid creepy diary the nerd toted around everywhere.  

With that, Aizawa stepped away and the door opened. Katsuki stood, looking at the map. After a moment of consideration, he began to mark it with entry points.

 

“We’ll start with five teams. Leaders are me, Iida, Todoroki, Shiozaki, and Tsuburaba. Keep in contact. Iida, your team is hunting. Find that third van. I don’t trust not knowing where it’s gone to,” he said.  

 

“Todoroki, Tsuburaba, your teams are heading for the district. Set up a forward camp and keep an eye out. My and Shiozaki’s teams will head out to the bank. If we work fast, we can stop them before they do any lasting damage.

“How many destroyed buildings by the end of this?” Shouta posed the question just loud enough for his husband and boss to hear him. Hizashi muffled an amused snort, while the gleam in Nedzu’s eyes grew ever more concerning. 

The chimera tapped a paw against his face. “Hmmm, three I believe. I’ll start running the odds. We’ll finalize the bets before the exercise starts to develop.” 

Keep in touch, and keep each other updated. Move out,” he called out, surprisingly professional for his normal demeanor.

 

“Heh. Shitty Deku thinks he’s going to outmaneuver me…” He grinned, teeth pulled back in a vicious smile. “I’ll show you how worthless and beneath me you are.”

“Yeesh, Bakubro I forgot how much you had a problem with Mido earlier in the year, going a little far there.” Eijirou always tried to see the best in his friends, especially Bakugou. He knew the fiery blonde had an explosive temper, but he had a good heart. 

More importantly, he had a long history with their green-haired classmate. Something that no one else could even come close to understanding. These days it was closer to an intense rivalry that even as a bystander you felt like you were standing too close to the edge of an active volcano. 

Still, it was an improvement from earlier in the year, when Eijiro thought Baugou hated Midoriya. 

Seeing his friend on screen so casually, and with such vicious hatred reminded him of how much their relationship had evolved over their first hectic year at UA. 

“Shut up shitty hair, Deku doesn’t stand a chance against me,” Katsuki scowled and buried deep into the chair. He didn’t understand why they were watching all this lead-up. Why couldn’t they skip to the part where he tore apart the villains with his hero team extras? He pointedly did not look in the direction of the teachers, sending him familiar - irritating - wary looks. Screen Katsuki hadn’t been through all the shit he’d gone through - hadn’t come to the damn truce with Deku - so his alternate self was going to be a bit… wild and occasionally scathing towards Deku. 

The screen faded away from the fake agency, back to black again, before the words:

7 days before the exam

Appeared on the bottom of the screen. The scene zoomed in on UA, bright daylight. Panning down to one of the windows and zooming into Aizawa’s office. It was a small room, with a comfy couch, an insanely complicated coffee machine, and a full tea set sitting on a nice silver platter. 

“You have that same setup in your own office,” snickered Hizashi. The coffee machine was, of course, for his caffeine-addicted husband. Although if he was in a good mood - or you were in his good books like Hizashi always was - one could use Shouta’s coffee machine instead of the far substandard break room machine. 

The tea set was for when Nedzu visited - the stoat always partial to a good cup of tea to plot madness to. Or if he had students who needed a calming cup of tea while in a one-on-one meeting. Like what was currently happening between his husband’s alternate self and Midoriya. 

Aizawa Shouta looked at his student, his exhaustion reaching even deeper than normal as he took in Midoriya’s distant expression and strange mood. He had barely said anything, just sat there with a cup of tea in hand, staring into the steam.

Shouta was by no means a self-conscious man. Never possessed the time or ego to care about what others thought of him. He did his jobs and did them well. 

That being said, experiencing his thoughts projected out loud for all to hear, was a certain kind of hell that despite all his jaded bitterness and general tendency towards expulsion, he didn’t think he quite deserved. 

“Woah! Guys, we get to listen to Aizawa-sensei’s thoughts!” grinned Kaminari. 

“I’m surprised it’s not just a running internal monologue of how everything he does is super logical!” laughed Mina. 

Shouta shot a disgruntled look at both of them. “Just because we are in between universes, you two, does not mean I can’t give you detention.” 

Both teens deflated in their seats while the rest of the class laughed. Well, at least this wasn’t starting off too bad. Hizashi’s hand grabbed hold of his and squeezed tightly for a moment, a silent show of support for the breach of privacy Shouta - even if it was an alternate version of him - had to endure.  

Just as Shouta was going to start, he was cut off.

 

“That selection was rigged, wasn’t it?” 

“WHAT!?” shouted most of the room. Although, Shouta noted, there were a few exceptions. Todoroki, Midoriya, and Momo all appeared unsurprised. All of the teachers, except for Yagi, similarly did not express shock. All of them knew Nedzu too well to expect anything else. 

Katsuki shot up from his chair, nearly sending his bowl of popcorn flying. Sparks crackled at his hands. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN RIGGED!” 

Surprisingly - or unsurprisingly, considering Midoriya looked to handle the weight of this situation rather well, past his initial freakout - Midoriya just shrugged. “It’s you against me Kaachan; of course, the selection was rigged. The whole point of an exercise like this is to test us - it’s like our final exams all over again.” That last part was much softer, although not soft enough for Shouta to miss it. More bitter than Midoriya’s usual tone combined with tense shoulders and far-off gaze; had something been missed from the first term finals? Maybe an interaction between the boys that had not been caught on the cameras?

Midoriya’s explanation calmed the class down just long enough for Alternate Shouta’s internal narration to start up. 

Midoriya's expression was sharp with the focus that Shouta had only seen when Midoriya or his friends were in danger. The intensity of it said that he was on overdrive, mind racing through mad plans and data. He had seen how Midoriya reacted during the USJ attack. He’d also heard about the Stain incident.

“What Stain incident?” asked Shoda, with a furrowed brow. He tried to stay out of Class 1A’s drama, but the rumors flying around the school following their first round of internships were hard to avoid. “You mean like, in Hosu when the League of Villains attacked with all those Nomu?” 

Izuku, Iida, and Shouto all tensed, but Izuku shot a wan smile to the rest of the room. “We were in the area at the time,” he replied without actually answering anything. Hosu was an unmitigated disaster, but no more so than any of the other disasters they had dealt with this year. Unfortunately for everyone who was not involved; i.e. everyone except him, Iida, Shouto, the Hosu police and Endeavor, they weren’t legally allowed to say anything to anyone not in the know. 

Although judging by the subtle nod Aizawa-sensei had just given him, it looked like his teacher too knew about what happened in Hosu. After almost a year of knowing his teacher, Izuku didn’t even find himself surprised the Underground Pro knew all about Iida’s attempted murder botch job, and Izuku and Shouto’s interference. 

“And there will be no more said about the matter,” announced Principal Nedzu, startling Izuku out of his thoughts. “The situation has been done and dealt with for months, there is little need to interrogate your classmates about it.” 

“...Yes.” He wasn’t going to lie. Not now. Midoriya was already exhibiting what Shouta wanted to see. That drive, but not for another. This time, only for himself.

 

“Fine.” Midoriya held up his rulebook. “Are these all the rules, in their entirety?”

 

Aizawa nodded, “Yes.”

Izuku wished he could get his hands on that book, just so he knew the rule set his alternative self was playing with. Maybe there would be a shot of it on screen later down the line and he could ask Present Mic to pause so he could at least skim it…

Midoriya lowered the book and with a quick motion drained his teacup. A moment of silence passed, the teen clearly considering something, before he looked up and met Aizawa’s eyes once more.

 

“Please, tell me about the objectives.”

 

‘Ah, the meat of the conversation.’

 

The whole room leaned in eagerly to see what kind of objectives the villain team would have to accomplish. 

“There will be 15 objectives planted inside the city. To pass the exercise, you must acquire at least five of those objectives and escape with all or most of your team. Extra objectives will 'improve' your final score and even contribute extra credit and help raise your grades,” he said.

 

“Each objective is vaguely based on a different crime. ‘Killing’ a specific civilian target, or acquiring one object or another. Finding a certain document, perhaps destroying a certain server. Beyond that are the two other win conditions that you can complete. Escape the city on the third day or make the heroes unable to continue and/or force them to retreat. If either of those two conditions are met, you automatically pass, even if it's on a technicality.”

 

Midoriya seemed distracted, lips moving slightly as he processed the new data,

Similar to the sight on screen. Their Midoriya was also muttering at an insanely fast pace under his breath. His hand blurred as new information was written down in the notebook, that most of the room realized appeared out of nowhere. 

“Should we… do something about that?” asked Hizashi.

Shouta merely sighed. “No, let the Problem Child’s brain spin, it’s good exercise. If we try to stop him he’ll start pacing instead.” 

“Wow, they’re making this exercise as realistic and detailed as possible!” Itsuka mused. “We’re going to have to commit a lot of crimes to win this.” 

Shiozaki, seated next to her, scoffed. “A true, and pious hero, would never allow themselves even the sham of sin to win nothing but an exercise.” 

Itsuka sighed; her classmate was by no means the worst of the bunch - Monoma took that title nearly every day - but Shiozaki’s unbending moral high ground caused… issues with some of the more questionably moral teachings a hero needed to know, or at least understand. The world wasn’t black and white, but Shiozaki preferred her world to only reflect shades of pious green. 

Izuku looked back up. “What about loss conditions?”

 

“There are three. All villains are taken down and captured. You, the Kingpin, are killed or captured by the hero team. Or, you leave before the third day, which would be considered a forfeit.”

Katsuki sniffed and stuffed a handful of popcorn into his mouth. Yeah, he could work with this. All he needed to do was drive the villains into a fight. “Kill “ most of the useless extras - animal boy, the French stripper, the copycat, and the ghost girl would probably be dead in minutes - and then drive Deku into a one-on-one battle. 

Deku hadn’t even had that stupid cowling technique for more than a week or two at this point. Heh. Yeah. This was going to be a piece of cake. 

Midoriya nodded thoughtfully. Then, almost hesitantly, he asked another question. “Where’s the test taking place?”

 

“Training Ground F, the downtown district.”

 

An incredulous pause broke the conversation, as Midoriya looked at him in realization. 

 

Shouta could tell Midoriya saw the faint grimace on Shouta’s own face. After that, Midoriya went through a quick flash of various expressions. Aizawa caught both confusion and understanding.

“Wow sensei, you sure are good at reading expressions,” Sero said from his spot next to Kaminari and Kirishima. “I wouldn’t have picked up on those at all.” 

“It’s quite literally my job to know what my opponent is thinking and planning to do. A split-second advantage can mean the difference between a successful takedown of the villain, or my own.”  

“Sensei… when's the last time the villain team won this exercise?”

 

A pause stretched out by tension. Eventually, Shouta sighed.

 

“It was back when I was a first-year. 

“ Nearly fifteen years!” cried several students on the villain's side. 

“Oh yeah, we have this in the bag,” cheered Denki, ignoring Mina’s sour stare. She knew that was a long time, but she had confidence Midoriya would help them pull through. 

“That’s like, forever ago!” said Mineta. “The Villain team doesn't stand a chance!” 

Nemuri placed a hand on her chest and gasped. “Mic I think we just got called old!” 

Hizashi nodded, “Called out and dragged! Fifteen years is not forever ago. It- it’s a short time.” He turned to Shouta. “Eraser, tell it straight! Say we ain’t old!” 

“Every part of our bodies creaks when we get up from a chair,” he droned with a bland look. Taking a long sip of coffee. “We’re old.” It took every ounce of strength not to crack a smile as his husband dramatically wailed and fell across his chest in a sobbing heap. The laughter of the students almost made up for the ridiculousness. Why was he married to this dramatic cockatiel again?

Hizashi opened his eyes and sent Shouta a wink with a loving smile. Oh, right, he was adorable. 

I heard about it through gossip and later from hero course classmates. There was a third-year with an overpowered fire and heat manipulation Quirk. He works with Endeavor now. Endeavor himself is quite proud of being one of the only Kingpins to ever win, and even holds the current record. 

Shouto blinked and sighed. Understanding now why he didn’t join Midoriya’s team. If his father played on the villain team - the Kingpin even - it was likely he would have ordered Shouto to do so too. Especially this soon after the Sports Festival and the Hosu incident, his alter-self would have been chomping at the bit to defy his father at every turn. 

Risking a glance at Midoriya, he ran into bright green eyes already filled with an understanding sympathy. 

“No hard feelings Shouto, I understand,” the green-haired boy reassured him. Shouto managed a steady nod before decisively turning his face away from Izuku before he could catch the blush spreading across his face that Shouto could not control. 

Even then, no villain team has ever won with full marks.”

“Never, hmm?” hummed Midoriya. Everyone close enough to him shuddered at the tone in his words. After all, they all knew what Midoriya did when faced with the impossible. 

Go beyond, Plus Ultra was not just a motto, but a way of life for Midoriya Izuku. 

“But… why?” Midoriya asked hesitantly.  

 

If Shouta were a betting man, he’d say that Midoriya already knew the answer. He decided to give the clarification anyways

 

Pausing, he gave a hard glare towards the cafeteria where the rest of the hero course would be.

 

“Because no hero wants to play the villain. They don’t want to be the bad guy. I’m not going to sugarcoat it, problem child. You’re going to be outnumbered. Overpowered. The game is going to be stacked against you. 

“Hero team for the win!” 

“We’ll have this over by the end of the day.” 

“The forces of evil shall never prevail!” 

As the heroes cheered, all of the so-called “villains” looked a bit downtrodden. Odds were not in their favor for this exercise. All but one of course, as Izuku was staring at the screen, watching his counterpart’s raging emotions flickering across his face. This was a challenge, one that had been deliberately given to him to test his strength and skills. He had a whole team of people relying on him. 

Faces of shame and disappointment around the room sparked a flame in Izuku’s heart. Just because they were the bad guys in this exercise didn’t mean they didn’t deserve to be dismissed like the hero team was doing.  

Which is a shame, because that makes this entire ordeal less effective.”

That quieted the room down a lot. The reality set in; this wasn’t just a fun little romp of heroes versus villains they all used to play in the schoolyard. This was an exercise at a hero school designed to better their skills as heroes. Whether or not they were on the heroes' side during the exercise. 

“This is an exercise to pit you against a facsimile of what you would face out in the real world of heroics.” Nedzu speculated out loud. “Not only is it a test of strength and skill, but a test of the mind. Of ethics, and morals. I can see very much why this would be part of the curriculum, and I’m disappointed in myself that I haven’t already implemented something similar.” 

He glanced at Midoriya, who was now staring into his empty cup with a thoughtful expression.

 

Slowly, that expression shifted…

Izuku knew by that smile, his alternate self had just come to the same conclusion he had. Despite the panic and fear about being labeled a villain. Despite the wrongness it felt to pit himself against the heroes and cause shoes and destruction, he was going to do it anyway. Anything less would be dishonorable. 

To be a true hero, he would have to play the villain. 

“Oh jeez, Midobro looks ready to break something!” Eijirou exclaimed. He’d seen that expression before; during super intense training matches, or when the little green kid had a particularly difficult puzzle to solve. Eijirou didn’t count himself as the smartest kid in the class - not by a longshot when he was up against brainy geniuses like Momo or Bakubro or Midoriya, but he knew enough to see Midoriya had taken this entire situation as the ultimate challenge and was not going to back down easily. 

Glancing over to where his version of Midoriya sat now, scribbling away in a mysteriously acquired notebook, determination shining in his own eyes, Eijirou figured that trait was shared by all Midoriyas regardless of the universe. 

He held in tears; gah! So manly!

Over on the couch, Tenya watched the alternate Midoriya-san with steel in his eyes. 

“I’ve seen that look before…” Todoroki-san muttered, Tenya nodded shakily and risked a glance at their Midoriya-san who had a similar expression mirrored upon his own face.

“Hosu?” Tenya muttered. 

Todoroki-san nodded. “And the sport’s festival.” 

Tenya knew not to underestimate that look, it could accomplish great and terrible things. “Do you think the hero team stands a chance?” 

Todoroki-san lifted an eyebrow. “I certainly wouldn’t place any money on it.” Tenya sputtered at the implication that the other boy would gamble at the events portrayed on the screen, but the dual-chromatic boy turned back to the screen without another remark. Tenya could only hope that cooler heads prevailed and the teachers would enforce restraint against a pastime so vulgar as gambling. 

“Thanks, sensei.”

 

Midoriya placed the empty cup in his saucer and grabbed his rulebook before leaving.

“Midoriya is on a warpath!” 

“Green Bean Steam Machine coming through.” 

Tsu smiled as a brilliant idea came to mind. “Who’s placing bets? Kero! I can run the odds!” Tsu turned to Midoriya seated on the couch behind her. “Hey Midoriya, can I borrow a bit of that paper and a pen?” Midoriya looked up and smiled. Her fellow green-haired classmate turned to the back of the book and tore out a page or two before handing them over with a black pen. 

“Young Tsu, I-I do not believe betting is an appropriate enterprise for an aspiring heroics student!” cried All Might. 

“I concur!” exclaimed Iida, eyes wide, hands frantically chopping. 

Tsu did a frog blink that she knew creeped other people out, and sent her teacher and classmate an unimpressed look.  “Why not? Nedzu-sama is taking bets for the teachers.” 

Sure enough, Nedzu had acquired his own sheets of paper and was scribbling down bets from Aizawa, Yamada, and Midnight. 

“I’m betting on explosions!” 

“Bakagou is leading the hero team, of course there will  be explosions!” 

“I mean from the villains! At least three.” 

“No four!” 

“Someone’s getting thrown out a window, I can guarantee it!” 

“This is Class 1A, they’re trouble magnets. I bet the whole city will be attacked by actual Villains!” 

“Please let that NOT happen!... but I’m betting that Todoroki encases someone fully in ice.” 

“That’s like betting Denki will set off a massive charge, and fry himself in the process. Be more creative, Hagakure!” 

“Hey!” 

Present Mic stood up and whistled, infusing a bit of his quirk to ensure it carried. Some of the more hearing-enhanced students - including the Principal - winced at the loud, attention-grabbing sound. 

“We can run the bets once this section is over with listeners, so sit down and keep your yappers shut. Capisce?” 

“Yes, sensei!”

Shouta couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his lips at the look and stance of his student as he exited the door.

All of class 1-A shivered as their teacher’s very unsettling smile spread - the one with wide-awake eyes, teeth bared, a smile more likely to be classified as teeth barred in challenge than an attempt at friendliness - across his face in the wake of Midoriya leading the room. That smile spelled nothing good for the exercise. 

Hizashi, on the other hand, adored that smile from his husband and knew very well he had a “maniac smile” of his own. That smile meant alternate Shouta had high hopes for whatever Midoriya was about to unleash on all his classmates. 

This year's Civil War would be interesting.

The screen slowly faded out on the image of Aizawa calmly sipping coffee from a black mug. 

“Well now that the rules have been properly laid out I do believe we can begin proper betting,” said Nedu with a grin. The room burst into lively conversation once more, and despite the circumstances, it warmed Nedzu’s genetically modified heart at the potential chaos about to unfold.

Chapter Text

Chaos reigned in the viewing room, as students and teachers alike called out predictions of what would happen over the course of the exercise. Nedzu and Tsu kept meticulous track of what was proposed and what was offered. Once several bets were placed - over the weak arguments of both Iida and Yagi - Present Mic whistled loudly, halting the noise. 

“Alright, alright, we won’t get anywhere if we keep debating who’s gonna get who. We’re watchin’ to see the events play out, not trying to guess them. Ya dig?” Murmurs of acquiescence met his ears, and he huffed and slumped back down on the couch. An empty hand found his husband’s and he interlaced their fingers; stifling a smile when Shouta squeezed his hand. 

Nedzu clicked his pen, and scribbled the last of his confirmed bets into his lined notebook, glancing approvingly at young Asui who did the same. He was pleased with her general disposition towards chaos and decided he would need to keep an eye on the young woman. Nurturing talent always benefited his sensibilities. 

“Everyone ready?” asked Mic. Izuku glanced up from his notebook. He hadn’t taken part in the betting, using the break to solidify who was on his team and what quirks his alternate self had access to in the process of running the exercise. It was a solid amount of power. A few surveying quirks like Jirou’s and Kouda's would be invaluable for reconnaissance. Meanwhile, Aoyama and Tokoyami were well equipped for strength and range. Shouji and Kendo are good for brawling…

Meanwhile Momo’s and Monoma’s quirks - he hoped he could wrangle the surly blonde from class 1-B’s attitude, otherwise there would likely be drama - would be a gold mine when it came to resource utilization. He just needed to be able-

“Ten mill? Hey, green bean, you’re muttering at the speed of sound again,” Mei’s chipper voice broke through his mutter storm, and he turned to the pink-haired engineer. “Thought you might want to know we’re starting up the next section.” 

“Oh,” Izuku’s cheeks burned. “Thanks.” 

Clicking the play button on the remote the screen unpaused, the previous screen fading away and replaced with black and the words; 

Day 1: 6 hours, 34 minutes (6:34 am, local time)

On-screen a car rolled up to a few buildings, Iida and his team exited the car, the dawn just brushing over the simulated city. It panned down on the group of heroes as they surveyed their surroundings. 

Tenya looked back, head-counting his team once more.  

 

After getting a ride from a van to the simulation city, the driver had dropped them off less than four blocks from where the truck was last seen. Looking back at his team, he mentally reviewed each person and their Quirk.

 

“Ah, we’re starting with my team,” Tenya muttered, pushing his glasses further up his nose - a nervous tick Tensei liked teasing him for. Nerves buzzed through his body, fluttering about like bees; having his own internal thoughts spoken aloud felt like a gross invasion of privacy. Although, he kept reminding himself the teen on the screen that looked like him was, ultimately, not him. 

It still felt like he was on view for all his classmates to judge. 

Hearing his own voice without the added movement of his lips, registered as very creepy in the depths of his own mind though.

Uraraka Ochako, his second, Zero Gravity. Shishida Jurota, brawler and scent tracker. Quirk: Beast, gives heightened animalistic senses and strength. Kodai Yui, the team defender, has a moderate growth Quirk, can become a giant. Then his fifth, Tsunotori Pony, with the Horn Cannon Quirk and mutation.

 

While his team wasn't the strongest, Bakugou had made sure they had enough power to fight.

 

“Not the strongest!?” 

“Come on!” 

“1-A arrogance at its worst yet again- yeouch! Stop doing that Itsuka!” 

Tenya felt his face flush as the rather clipped and clinical rundown of his team riled up the room. “I-I simply believe my alternate self is implying-”

From over on the far side of the couch, Midoriya spoke up. “The team composition is too specialized. The team is almost entirely composed of physical quirk mutations - except for Uraraka’s Emitter quirk, and Tsunotori’s additional horn manipulation, which at the beginning of the school year wasn’t nearly as trained. In a fight, the team would actually fare quite well, although the collection of quirks lends itself to a rescue team with both speed and clearing abilities. The problem is this patrol is objectively a scouting mission with a target that has likely long since disappeared, removing quite a few key brawlers from play while gaining only minimal information on the location of the villains.” 

He looked up from his notebook when he didn’t hear any noise, to find the whole room staring at him in stages of mild shock - the majority of the room - glee - a few of the teachers and the Nedzu - or pride - Aizawa Sensei, not that anyone else would have been able to tell considering how the man ducked his head down into his scarf to disguise it. 

Izuku smiled weakly as embarrassment bubbled in his chest. “O-or, uh, t-that, that’s what m-makes the most s-sense to me?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean Deku!?” Kaachan yelled. 

“N-Nothing, I g-guess, I just wouldn’thavedoneitlikethat,” he muttered out quickly. Flinching when he heard the tell-tale explosions of his childhood friend, although they were silenced in short order. Looking over he saw Aizawa-Sensei’s hair floating while he gave Kaachan a truly irritated red-eye glare. 

“Control yourself Bakugou,” snapped their teacher. “Midoriya is not incorrect in his assessment, and he’s allowed to say so. All of you should be taking this as a learning opportunity to discover what you should and shouldn’t do in a similar situation.” The students around the room mumbled out a ‘yes sensei’.

The blonde-haired teen scoffed, settling back into his chair, and munched angrily on another handful of popcorn. 

Tension successfully redirected, the room turned back to the screen, which played on. 

Soon enough they found the alley, a thin canyon between two rows of buildings.

 

“Shishida-san, can you pick up anything from the truck’s passing?”

 

The taller teen leaned forwards, crouching as he took deep, long breaths.

 

“I can smell… exhaust. Exhaust and burned rubber. And look, skid marks. They stopped suddenly here for a bit,” he pointed out, kneeling over some darker streaks in the alley pavement.

Jurota watched his onscreen counterpart and smiled a toothy grin. Despite Class 1-A’s president’s poor choice of words, he was proud his skills as an adequate tracker were getting shown off. While his quirk lent itself to strength, his beastly form was not the only benefit he brought to a team-up, he was glad his counterpart adequately demonstrated such. 

Tenya looked up and around, the rest of the crew following suit. The buildings on either side of them were windowless, and the alley itself sloped down and back up on the far side. Tenya’s eyes tracked along the wall and found something.

 

“There. A garage door. They never saw the truck leave, right?”

 

“Iida-san, should we perhaps radio in?” Kodai’s quiet presence appeared at Iida’s side, looking at him with curiosity, and he nodded in agreement.

“Yes, keeping your team informed is standard procedure. Good job Kodai,” Kan praised. While concerned at how early the exercise between the two classes were happening, he was pleased that his kids were getting a chance to test their skills against their 1-A counterparts. A chance they hadn’t gotten until nearly winter break in their universe. Maybe he and Aizawa should work out some more chances for cross-class training. 

Kodai ducked her head, “Thank you sensei.” she muttered lowly, the expression on her face unchanging, but a glimmer of pride shined in her eye for anyone who knew the quiet teen well enough. 

Iida tapped the side of his helmet, connecting to the group channel. “Iida reporting. My team and I have found signs of the third truck. There's a garage door down the alley. We want to see if they parked it here.”

 

“The hell are you waiting for, Glasses? Go look. Check in if you find shit, or in half an hour.”

“What a cordial way to talk to your teammates there, Bakugou,” Shihai snickered, bundled up in pitch-black pajamas, a black fuzzy blanket stretched over his lap. He was seated next to Fumikage, who he’d become rather good friends with once he realized the bird-headed boy held no interest in Komori - or anyone for that matter. “Such language begets only the finest of admirable commanders, don’t you agree Tokoyami?” 

“Quiet so,” Fumikage responded, glad only a few of his classmates could discern when his expression amounted to a shit-eating grin. He respected Bakugou, but the explosive-tempered, foul-mouthed teen could be rather entertaining once riled up. “Such a wonder your team would wish to follow your instructions at all.” 

“Why don’t you two haunted house rip-offs put a fucking sock in it!” the boy snapped back. 

“To be fair to Bakagou, he is following all the procedures of engagement and team delegation here,” Nemuri said with a wince. “Even if it’s not done in the most tactful manner.” 

“Who cares about being fucking polite?” the boy bit out with a snarl, he gestured to the screen where a frozen Iida stood with a slightly annoyed expression. “I’ve got more important shit to worry about than Engines-for-brain’s feelings.” 

“The point, Bakagou, is that your team is relying on you for support and guidance,” Aizawa drawled with a disapproving glare. “And your language, flippant nicknames, and general state of disregard for your opponents and teammates' ability doesn’t inspire much confidence. And while this may not be you, it is an important lesson to keep in mind, as you have the same tendencies in our world.” 

“Understood.” Tenya tapped the comms and sighed.  

 

Bakugou may have tempered his language when directed towards his team, using it for his ‘nemesis’ instead, but he was still terribly curt and unprofessional.

Aizawa gestured to the screen. “That right there is what you do not want. In this world you have to be competent, punctual, or polite - at least two of the three will do, no less. If you do not deliver, fail to deliver on time, or are a pain to work with, you lessen your chances of being both an effective hero and a respectable human being.” 

“Aizawa, not to be rude, but what leg do you have to stand on in the personality department?” questioned Nemuri with a teasing grin. “You have the interpersonal skills of a stale slice of bread, and are about as polite as a cactus.” 

The room burst out laughing, as the tired man shot his colleague with a look of barely restrained annoyance. 

“Which is why I’m teaching my students to do better, Midnight. Haven’t you heard the phrase, ‘Do as I say, not as I do.’?” 

Regardless, Tenya had a job to do.

 

“Uraraka, Kodai, please keep an eye on the alley entrances. Shishida, Tsunotori, with me.”

 

The three headed in, eyes peeled.

 

With careful steps, they reached the garage; a quick inspection revealed it was sturdy. Likely another loading dock of some sort. Checking the digital lock next to it, Tenya turned when he heard Shishida inhale deeply.  

 

“The exhaust trail leads here. Shall we knock?”

 

Tenya grinned. “Of course. Tsunotori-san, would you care to perform the honors?”

“See,” said Midoriya pointing at the screen with his pen. “All three of you hold the ability to brute force the door. You’re over-prepared with physical strength, and although Shishida is providing enough support to compensate due to his tracking abilities, two of your members are doing nothing while engagements are happening elsewhere…” he hummed, tapping the pen rapidly against his chin. “I wonder if my counterpart has a planned ambush here, or if it's a misdirect, or if it could be…” he trailed off, his mumbling becoming so quiet only the people sitting closest to him could hear it. 

Again the majority of the room watched the green haired teen in various states of shock and concern, while his teachers seemed oddly impressed. Afterall, it wasn’t like the boy was in the exercise himself, he didn’t need to dissect every move being made on screen as if he needed to counter it. 

Katsuki snarled fiercely as Deku continued to mumble away, oblivious to how he was creeping out the rest of the room. He would have yelled at him, but he didn’t want that damn hobo to erase his quirk again. Hands clenched, white knuckles showing he gripped at his blanket and remained silent with every last bit of patience he could muster. 

The horned girl grinned, skipping backward and crouching.

 

”Yes!” she said. 

 

With a skip and a leap, she slammed into the garage door full force, horns shredding the metal so she could enter. As one, both men grabbed the sides of the entry and ripped it to the side, widening the hole for ease of access. They stepped in to join Tsunotori in a ready stance.

“What an inspiring pose! True teamwork!” clapped Yuuga splayed out over a deep blue velvet chaise lounge chair. His broken leg was wrapped in bandages, and propped up on pillows. The pain medication the lovely Kenius provided made his head feel rather fuzzy, but at least he wasn’t doubled over from the injury. He mentally thanked the lovely operator for providing him with a plate of snacks, as it helped to distract from the aching feeling still present throughout his body. 

“Good going Pony,” complemented Manga, the emojis ‘😁👍🐎’ flashing across his speech bubble face. 

The wide-eyed girl smiled brightly, “Thanks, I sure I much better now!” 

Inside the room was indeed a loading dock, the ramp at the far end of the bay leading up to more doors.

 

“Iida, you guys okay?” Uraraka’s voice came over the comms, and Tenya took a moment to look around, eying the corners.

 

“We are fine, but there's no sign of the truck. Or the villains.” 

“Ambush, ambush, ambush, ambush, ambush,” chanted Mina under her breath. She loved her friends, loved being a hero, and loved learning to protect others to make the world a better place. 

She also loved chaos. Turning down the opportunity to cause a bit of school-sanctioned mayhem would never be an option. She knew herself well enough if they ran this exercise in their world she’d be on the villain team no questions asked. And a villain team run by the beloved green bean with a penchant for drama and pulling off the impossible? Sign her double-the-fuck-up! 

“Et tu Mina?” gasped Kaminari. 

“Suffer!” she hissed gleefully. 

Indeed. The very bay itself, while filled with pallets and crates, had no truck present. The room was clean, however. No dust, no debris. It was almost creepy.

“Well, how often is the city actually used for training exercises?” questioned Uraraka. 

“Our own Training Ground F is mostly used for urban practice,” explained Midnight, thinking back to the class of the third year she supervised as they ran mock-search and rescues through the city. “It does also get pretty beat up during those exercises, so Cementoss basically rebuilds it every two years or so.” 

“It could also just be the villains making sure there’s no trail to follow,” commented Majima, sinking into the couch with an annoyed sigh. Cementoss built the infrastructure for the city, sure, but Majimawas the one making sure all of the civil bots were in top shape, the city’s power grid was functional and all of the simulation buildings were functional along with the extensive city-wide network of cameras. It was a lot of work to rebuild that particular training ground, which is why it was mostly third-year students who used it. 

Ostensibly it was because they could actually keep their quirks contained and were less prone to rookie mistakes like first years. 

Majima had yet to observe any indication of that, though, considering how often the training ground needed rebuilding. 

“Shishida-san, is the scent still here?” Tenya asked.

 

“Stronger than ever, Iida. It sat and idled here, I guarantee it,” the beastly teen called, inhaling deeply once more.

 

“Where did it went?” Tsunotori asked, looking around with confusion, unaware of her mangling of the language.

“How does a car just vanish?” asked Satou. “It’s just a parking bay with no other exit!” 

Kyouka lolled her head back over the edge of her beanbag to look at her classmate. “My dude, we go to a school run by a genetically engineered super chimera, and have classmates who can talk to animals, make fucking canons from the side of their stomachs and create massive light shows with just their fists and pent-up rage,” she drawled with a deadpan tone. “I assure you there are ways to hide a car in a building.” 

The room burst out laughing. When Kyouka spotted Momo, in that lovely navy sweater, also giggling at the commentary, she ducked her face into the fuzzy collar of her hoodie to hide the pleased grin and reddening cheeks. 

“Spread out. Check for clues,” Tenya decided, tapping the radio to contact the girls outside. “Uraraka, Kodai, no sign of the truck now, but it was definitely here.”

 

“What's the plan?” came Kodai’s quiet response.

 

“Uraraka, get a rooftop perch and keep an eye on the alley. Kodai, circle around and tell us what this building is supposed to be. I’d rather not get blindsided by not knowing what to expect.”

“There won’t be anything,” said Midoriya, scribbling frantically in his notebook. 

“It is still a hero's duty to check and maintain proper protocol!” Tenya replied although he could admit his friend was probably correct. His counterpart’s team needed to complete this task quickly and move along to the next, more likely avenue of finding information. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t discount a little more investigation yet, listeners,” cautioned Yamada-Sensei. “There is always more to be gained by being thorough, than sacrificing quality investigation for expedience.” 

Two affirmatives later, the line went quiet once more. He looked at the others. Shishida was in the center of the room, trying to follow the scent trail. Tsunotori was jumping up and around the room, checking the boxes and walls for secret passages or weak points.

 

Tenya was about to tell them to give up and move on when Tsunotori knocked down a stack of crates.

 

“TSUNOTORI!” Both cried out in annoyance, and she shyly bowed.

 

“Sorry! Those were really, really light. I got on them, I lost my—”

 

She paused, looking at where the boxes had been. There, looking like it had been sunken and melted into the floor, was a manhole cover.

“They’re using the sewers!” exclaimed Uraraka, ignoring Izuku’s muttered curse word, as he frantically crossed out two lines in his notebook, and chewed anxiously on the end of his pen. “Of course, with Honenuki on their team, they can seal up any entrance behind them, making it inaccessible for us to follow.” 

“Makes sense, this will be the best way for the villains to traverse the city without detection in broad daylight,” commented Izuku, he tapped his pen against the edge of his notebook. “Still I doubted I - I mean, my counterpart planned for this route to be discovered so early. I’m going to need to adjust a few things…” he mentally rearranged his timeline of events now that the enemy knew about that mode of travel. 

Of course the timeline was more like the vague outline of an idea for how the exercise would play out. Variables floated through his head as he considered and dismissed ideas based on resource acquisition and completion feasibility. Hmm… decisions, decisions…

“They hid a whole car in the sewers,” groaned Sero, reaching for a handful of popcorn. “Who even thinks of stuff like that!?” 

“Apparently a band of villains led by Midoriya,” said Ojiro. “I would say I’m surprised, but honestly after what we’ve witnessed him pull off over the past year, that would be a lie.” 

“Yeah, but our poor alternate-universe selves have only known Midobro for what? All for two and a half months? They have no clue the craziness he’s capable of!” It was true that most of the class didn’t really understand the utter insanity the green-haired teen could bring to the table until well into the Kamino incident, although a few of his friends - Iida and Todoroki especially - knew very well what lengths the boy was capable of going. 

Half the room looked at Midoriya, who must have felt the multiple sets of eyes on him and glanced up from his notebook. Registering the stares of incredulity. His face flushed bright red, making him look like an anxious strawberry. 

On screen, the scene faded out on the heroes standing over the warped manhole cover. It switched to show an intersection elsewhere in the city. A team of heroes - Bakugou among them - approached the main building towering over the others nearby. 

“Looks like it’s our turn now,” grinned Katsuki, looking forward to watching his on-screen self take apart the villains. 

Tension seeped out of Tenya’s shoulders. True, there were a few stray thoughts projected aloud for the room to hear. But it was nowhere near as bad as he’d feared. Now to see this section of heroes hopefully locate and catch their villains. 

Although he believed in the power of the coordinated 1-A and 1-B students to overcome evil, he couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering over to where Midoriya sat. The young hero’s eyes were glued to the screen, set in an expression of concentrated determination. Well, he believed in the power of good over evil, but up against Midoriya…

There was a reason why he didn’t place any bets. And it wasn’t just because he found it morally objectionable. 

Chaos. That's what the T-intersection in front of the bank looked like.

The room startled as the internal monologue switched from Iida’s voice to Bakagou’s rougher tone. Katsuki sported a grin as he watched his onscreen counterpart approach the utter chaos 

Cars were on their sides, piled up into rough barricades and covered in broken civil-bot bodies. Some of them were still faintly trying to struggle out from where they were pinned, their AI too dumb to realize they were practically dead.

“Geeze,” muttered Hitoshi, speaking for the first time so far. “That’s a little dark.” 

“That’s UA for you, inadvertently traumatizing with the most ridiculous of fucking circumstances,” quipped Awase. The teen hid towards the back of the room, not really wanting to deal with the dramatics of class A, nor wanting the spotlight. But with both classes being given equal showing in the exercise - if not totally equal standing due to both team leaders being from class 1-A - he’d dragged his chair a little closer to the front to feel more a part of the action. 

“Language,” Kan-Sensei drawled apathetically from his spot. 

“Heu, Aizawa ain’t making a big fucking deal of Bakugou’s potty mouth!” 

“You're my problem. Bakugou is Aizawas.” 

The perpetually tired-looking teacher sighed. “I have hills on which I am willing to die on; policing Bakugou’s language is not one of them.” 

“Damn fucking right it isn’t!” 

Standing dead center on the wall-like pile of broken steel and glass, glaring down at the people approaching, were two dark figures. 

 

One wore a form-fitting black suit with a fedora and a bow tie in red, contrasting with his pitch-black skin and silver hair, which was styled flat and sleek. The other wore a ragged black cloak, but the abnormal shape of his head was clearly visible.

Whistles and cheers sounded out through the viewing room. Even the hero team grudgingly admitted the two villains looked intimidating. 

“Magnifique!” crooned Aoyama. “Look at that outfit coordination, that flawless style!” 

“What a mad banquet of darkness we have found ourselves in,” chuckled Fumikage, the outfit wasn’t too dissimilar from his normal hero outfit, but there was something sleek and insidious to the design that his normal outfit lacked. It made him look like a total badass. 

“Indeed,” replied Shihai, who was rather taken with how the black suit looked, along with that cool red bow tie. He also wouldn’t have thought that the slicked back hair would make him look more professional and grown up, but it did. He might have to see about changing that for his own hero costume - although his hair was hard to manage on the best of days. Maybe he’d ask Present Mic if the man could share any styling tips. 

“Oooh, the shock and awe of coordinating outfits - and what a theme you have going on here!” exclaimed Midnight. “A sensuous strategy, you naughty little devils,” she purred. 

The two dark-haired and feathered teens ducked their heads to avoid her gaze, while Midoriya sputtered anxiously on the couch. His red face making the little freckles on his cheeks stand out all the more. If his power didn’t make him a total jacked badass she would have totally suggested a cute hero theme for the curly haired teen. 

“M-midnight-S-sensei, it’s just that coordination in a t-team ca-can make a group fe- feel more co-coherent. And we, well, we’re s-supposed to be villains, s-so a dark-darker more ma-mature theme makes sense?” that last bit was squeaked out, as Izuku’s cheeks felt even more on fire than they did a second ago. 

He lost the fight with his shame when his teacher wiggled her eyebrows in a suggestive manner. “ Of course, kiddo,” she purred again, with a wink. 

“Kuroiro and Tokoyami,” Shiozaki Ibara murmured, looking at Katsuki who stood next to her, eyes focused on the blockade before the bank. “They can’t possibly believe they can stop us just by themselves, can they?”

“Well, it’s e-early enough in the morning that there isn’t a ton of light out yet,” stammered Izuku, the wave of embarrassment ast his Sensei’s teasing taking a backseat to analyzing the fight’s set up.“Tokoyami and Kuroiro have a particular synergy between their quirks that would lend well towards a defensive force, or at the very least a decent distraction…” he trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he observed the bank. “They don’t need to stop you, the rising light means this encounter is on a time limit. This isn’t a play to defeat the heroes, just delay them. I wonder what’s occurring inside the building to justify this type of drastic distraction…” 

A cackle of glee slipped out of Nedzu, the chimera couldn’t stop his tail from swinging in elation, as he watched Midoriya break down the scene unfolding on the screen. “Why Midoriya I do believe you’re right.” The tone of that statement sent shivers running down the teachers' - and more than a few students - spines. Although Midoriya hardly seemed to notice, he sucked back into his notebook and notated what happened on screen. 

“No… this is a trap.” Katsuki eyed the skyline.  

 

Around the bank, the skyscrapers had backed off slightly, leaving the building just a bit taller at ten stories than its nearest six-floor neighbors. 

 

“I just don’t know what the consequence of tripping it is.”

“Look at that,” drawled Kyouka from her purple beanbag. “Bakugou showed a bit of forethought for this exercise. How novel.” 

The blond pomeranian in question popped off some explosions in his palms. “You wanna say that to my face, you freaky eavesdropper?!” 

Kyouka lolled her head in the boy’s direction. “Oh wow,” deadpan indifference dripping from every word. “Eavesdropper? How original. It’s not like I’ve never heard that one before.” She had, literally almost every day since her quirk manifested at age four. Numb to both the insult and the implications, Kyouka ignored Bakugou’s blustering, she didn’t plan to waste more energy on feeding his anger issues. 

The scene faded out on the city, turning to black with the words: 

7 days before the exam (final class of the day)

It opened up in 1A's classroom. Afternoon light streamed in through the large windows, the students of class 1-A all chattering excitedly about the new challenge placed before them. Aizawa, wrapped in a yellow sleeping bag, partially passed out behind his desk.  

Hizashi hid a small smile at the picture of his husband wrapped up in his comfy sleeping bag; it was an anniversary gift given right before they started as teachers because he knew his husband liked to catnap, and thought it would be the perfect addition to whatever office space he used. However, it didn’t take long holding two full-time jobs, for that yellow sleeping bag to be carried around everywhere allowing his perpetually tired partner to take a nap whenever and wherever he could. 

Izuku sat quietly at the back of the class, eyes roaming with a strange intensity. He concealed his act behind the guise of reading the rule book. Already, he’s found three loopholes that would allow him to stack the deck in his favor, 

Izuku strained his neck trying to catch a glimpse of the book his onscreen counterpart was reading, but to no luck, the camera faced towards him and away from the book, which left him without a view of the page. 

“Three loopholes?!” 

“Stacking the deck?”

“This is supposed to be a combat exercise, right?” 

Shouta scoffed, “At what point has any of what we’ve seen implied this is simply a combat exercise? During my alternate’s self meeting with Midoriya, I explicitly stated there are several goals the villains must accomplish in order to score points. Not all of that will be flashy and in your face. This is an exercise testing your abilities to strategize and execute plans.” He nodded to the screen. “Something your classmate is taking full advantage of.” 

Izuku flushed at his teacher’s round-about praise. Compliments from Aizawa-Sensei were rare, especially ones that weren’t also backhanded quips on how they needed more improvement. 

His mouth moved silently as he thought through Class 1-A’s weaknesses. He needed potency, people whose powers would counter the greatest amount of opponents at once. He could already tell by Iida, Uraraka, and Todoroki’s attitudes and quiet demeanor, that they were all torn. Though he expected all three would go to the hero side of the fight. With his blessings.

Uraraka glanced up to the couch. “You sure it’s alright we picked the other team?” 

Izuku dragged his eyes away from the screen and smiled, cheeks reddening slightly. “Absolutely, I’m not gonna force anyone to be on my team. Besides, it’s not like I’m alone or anything, I’m sure we’ll manage alright. Just imagine if I didn’t have anyone! I’m not sure I’d have a chance if I didn’t have some teammates,” Izuku smiled a bit thinly, even after almost a full year at UA it was hard to believe he gained so many friends. So many people liked him, not just for his quirk, but because he was his own person.  

Squashing the dark voice in the back of his mind whispering all of it - his friends’ company, his teachers’ approval, recognition, love, acceptance - all of it only happened after he had a quirk. 

(What was so wrong with him that he couldn’t have had that before.)  

The class gasped when the scene paused, while an information box appeared on screen. 

PFTE-A-7585762-6 has been suggested for your viewing experience. 

Switch to Viewing? 

Add to Queue? 

“Uhhh… I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m getting really weird vibes here,” said Mineta with a concerned glance towards the frozen screen. 

The screen flickered again, and now it showed a connect call screen - although the image showed was one of utter chaos. People running back and forth, screaming, shouting. Lasers and beams of energy flying through the air. Fires broke out on top piles of furniture. Sparking portals hanging ominously in the air, as people flew through them carrying large guns or swords. The camera shook for a moment as the point of view switched. 

Kenius now took up the majority of the viewing area. Their sleek white hair was in disarray, and dirt and blood streaked across their face like war paint. 

“Hey y’all, so sorry ‘bout that. Thought I turned off the recommended feature feed in your room. Don’t worry about any more of those messages poppin’ up. Y’all enjoying the watch, so far?” 

Concerned silence reigned momentarily before Tenya, gathering up the courage expected of a hero, deigned to ask. “Kenius-san are you… alright?” 

Blinking three eyes in confusion, they smiled, a humorless chuckle escaping their lips. “Oh, hun, this ain’t nothing to worry yourself about. Just a small little fight broke out between a few universes. We’ll have this wrapped up in- GRENADE!” The camera shook as the operator threw themselves to the ground, and a loud explosion wrung out through the room. 

Their face sprung back up with a smile containing more teeth than was comfortable. “Damn switchback portals sendin’ our own weapons' back to us. Listen, I’ll call y’all back later, for now enjoy the rest of your watch through.” Click. The call closed out and the information box disappeared on the screen. Echoes of energy beams and screaming caused the room to feel barren and hollow in their absence. 

“Well, that was mildly concerning,” droned Shouta. The operator seemed powerful, but that battle didn’t look like “a small fight”. 

“And not currently our problem!” piped Nedzu in a calm and unbothered tone. He knew setting the mood after such a jarring break in their watch-through would be key in keeping the students and teachers calm. “For now, Yamada-san, could you please press the play button so we can continue Midoriya’s breakdown of his classmate’s abilities.” 

Said boy ducked his head to avoid the stares of his classmates, but the resumption of the image on the screen dragged their attention away from the Midoriya in the room. 

But he could probably get some of the others. Asui would be a good pick, an all-around physical fighter with agility. Tokoyami as well, if only for the sheer power of his Quirk. If he could get Hagakure and Ojiro, that would offer him more options. And with two agility-based fighters he could look for more utility potential, things that would let him acquire his objectives.

“Wow, you know, we’ve heard Midoriya break down our quirks before, but this was like, super early in the school year,” said Toru. “You already had our number, didn't you Midoriya?” 

“Well, y-you know, I really like quirks. And I’m just ob-observant, I guess?” 

“Freaky-ass notebooks and creepy-ass staring,” muttered Katsuki, knowing very well how long the green-haired nerd liked quirks. Ha! More like he was fucking obsessed with them. Years and years of watching him scribble in notebooks, big green eyes always dissecting as he notated. Every. Fucking. Thing. 

Katsuki knew damn well Izuku was smart - and those notebooks were a treasure trove of information. Weird personal information like the best method to break somebody’s hands so they couldn’t use their quirk anymore, or how to acquire dry ice so the skin would receive nerve damage and be unable to sweat. Ways to ensure permanent hearing damage; weather patterns and best time of day to ensure minimum amount of sweat production. 

He shuddered; creepy, invasive, dangerous ideas . 

He could already tell that Kaminari, Kirishima, and Sero were all siding with Bakugou. But Ashido looked torn, despite her hero name being somewhat villainous: the Alien Queen…

 

Aoyama was a wild card; his narcissistic personality could veer him one way or the other. 

Izuku winced at the accurate, if somewhat harsh read on Aoyama’s personality. From behind him an affronted gasp, cut through the rest of the class’s giggling.

“ Monsieur! Why, I have never been so insulted!” Aoyama placed the back of his hand against his forehead with an aggrieved swoon. It took everything in Izuku not to roll his eyes at the other boy’s dramatics.  

“Sorry, Aoyama, you weren’t the uh… most approachable at the beginning of the year,” admitted Izuku. Failing to mention he didn’t think the French student was any more approachable - or amiable - now. Although living in the dorms brought everyone a bit closer by the nature of their environment, the French teen always kept to himself to a certain degree, and his  overly boisterous   personality didn’t help the situation much. 

And that was coming from him, the class voted human-personification-of-sunshine. (They actually voted, one boring evening they started assigning people random titles. Izuku also won Most-Likely-To-Break-A-Limb and Most-Likely-To-Get-Attacked) 

Aoyama huffed and settled back onto his chaise lounge; snapping up a grape on his plate of food. (How he’d gotten an entire plate full of cheeses, meats, nuts, chocolates, and fruit, no one knew. Nobody remembered the boy opening the fridge or cabinets to prepare such a platter.) 

But having a glass cannon like him on the villain side would be a stroke of luck. Mineta would be determined by which side had the most ‘hot bods,’ as he said. 

Associated grumbling from several girls in the room, and a pointed stare from Midnight cowed the purple-haired boy; slumping into his seat with an indistinguishable mutter, that sounded something like, “...it’s not fair, I’m the one always singled out…” but most everyone ignored him. 

Jirou… She was glancing at him and then back to—

 

Izuku paused, green eyes meeting gray.

 

Yaoyorozu Momo smiled and nodded.

“Permission to board captain?” the girl asked with a sly smile and a teasing lilt to her voice. Izuku laughed. He liked Momo; she brought a calming presence to the rest of the boisterous class, even though underneath she hid the insane streak you needed to vibe well in class 1A. Momo had smarts, resources, and an analytical mind that matched his own. Having her on his team - even if it wasn’t his team - would be a boon like no other. 

“Permission granted!” he cheered, beaming back. Yes, working with Momo made this entire endeavor a far more clear shot chance. 

"Aww, why does Midoriya get to have all the pretty girls on his team," whined Mineta. "It's not fair for the rest of us- umph!" A piece of stick tape, courtesy of Sero found itself covering the small teen's mouth. 

"If you don't have anything nice to say," Hanta sneered. "You're not gonna say anything at all." 

Well then. That made the entire game change.

 

Now, he had access to resources.

 

He smiled back and tapped the cover of his book, grinning.

Several people shivered at the sight of Midoriya’s smile. Normally the teen sported a bright, sunshine-esque grin that never failed to brighten up a person’s day. This smile, though? It felt more like one of Aizawa’s smiles; gleeful, almost sadistic in its pure unease. This was the smile of a predator. 

Eyes flickered over to their Midoriya, watching his alternate self plot on screen. Could their Midoriya smile like that? 

His eyes roved over the last of the room.

 

Kouda. Undecided. Sato… probably a hero. Shouji… hero. Maybe.

The multi-armed student scoffed, “I guess not considering I wasn’t a part of that group of heroes earlier.  Hope that won’t throw too much of a spanner in your works, Midoriya?” 

Smiling brightly - an actual smile, not the creepy grin alternate Midoriya still sported on screen, Midoriya shook his head. “Not at all Shouji-san. The more the merrier, right?” Mezou was actually excited to see what kind of plan the alternate version of his classmate put together.

And then Class 1-B.

 

Yeah. He could make this work.

 

The scene faded out on his alternate self’s satisfied grin, as he tapped his fingers on the cover of his rule book, the afternoon sun slanting across the room, casting his face in dramatic shadows. Izuku could practically feel the giddy energy dripping off the screen. 

Too bad somebody had to go and ruin it.

“Heh. Not a fucking chance ya nerd! My team will beat yours into the ground,” Katsuki sneered. He led the larger team. He gathered the best extras. All of Deku’s wannabe Villains would regret choosing the losing side. 

Izuku, in a flash of confidence, he couldn’t quite determine where it came from, he sent an equally vicious grin back at his old childhood friend. “Oh, yeah?” he asked, his voice low and full of confidence. “Just try it, Paragon.” 

Izuku would never admit it out loud, but the look of shock on Kaachan’s face tasted more delicious than even his mother’s Katsudon.

Chapter Text

Katsuki didn’t care much for feeling weak or scared. Emotions like that didn’t benefit the future number-one hero. They were distractions, and obstacles, and Bakagou Katsuki knew how to deal with obstacles. 

Crush them into dust, explode the remaining dust into shredded atoms, and spit on the pathetic remains. 

Katsuki wasn’t scared of much. With a quirk like his, and an indomitable will, what was there really to be scared of? He could overcome every problem set in his path. Anything that couldn’t be destroyed with a well-placed explosion - and those situations were few and far between - could be dealt with by his superior intellect, or a little bit of his parent’s money. (Though he tried to avoid that last option, it was a cheap tactic to bribe someone when overwhelming force would work just as well.) 

However, that confidence and superiority came with one very - fucking irritating - exception. 

Midoriya Izuku. 

Years before joining UA, this pissed off Katsuki. Why did this utter nobody , a quirkless, noodle arm, stuttering nothing of a bug, scare him? He was obviously better in every conceivable way; from his quirk, to his confidence, to his intelligence. Yet Izuku, Deku, smiled at him even in pain, even when he was belittled, bullied, and bashed. He kept up with Katsuki in classes and was always watching. Always observing. 

It didn’t matter how much he used his quirk. It didn’t matter how he strived to be the best in class - a position he only held because their stupid fucking teachers marked Deku down on purpose. It didn’t matter he made it clear to the boy day after day, month after month, and year after year that he was nothing more than a stepping stone to those around him. 

Deku still. Kept. Getting. Up. 

That scared Katsuki. 

And with the very few things he was scared of, he tried to minimize, conquer, or destroy. None of which he’d been very successful with. Deku still shone bright, still challenged him. 

(But at least he was alive. He was scared of Izuku, but that didn’t mean he wanted him dead. He didn’t mean to say those words. He didn’t-)

Then UA happened; between newly manifested quirks, villain attacks, rivalries, and kidnappings, somewhere along the way that fear, that hatred, turned into something…weaker, in comparison, to the raging storm of enmity surrounding their childhood. There was a thread of respect now, acknowledgment. Deku was trying, just as Katsuki was, to be a hero. 

Not the best though. Obviously. That was going to be for him. 

Now, in this weird space; this world between worlds, Katsuki found that fear creeping back in again. The look of utter confidence, even a little bit of taunting - was Deku even capable of that, he must be - pushing back at him. Fear and surprise showed on his face, but he locked it down in a second flat. 

“Tch,” he scoffed, trying to sound unfazed by the sudden confidence Deku scrounged up. “Don’t fucking count on it, you useless nerd.” Turning to their pompous peacock of an English teacher he yelled, “Play the next fucking scene already!” While their teacher snagged the remote to do that, out of the corner of his eye Deku settled back down into his spot. A brief look of confusion and panic overtook his expressive features. Pink-haired chick leaned in and whispered something he couldn’t make out. Deku shook his head jackrabbit quick and stuffed his nose back into the creepy-ass notebook.  

Huh…

Day 1: 7 hours, 14 minutes (7:14 am, local time)

The screen flickered to another shot of the city, panning in as the sun rose into the sky; shades of pink and red and purple washing out into a pale blue. Several heroes-to-be stalked along the sidewalks as they approached a cluster of buildings, civil-bots pantomiming the motions of normal activity.

In all honesty, Shouto could do without the long silences of the fake city. While it was decorated with cars, and the occasional civil-bot stood or wandered small paths through the streets, the city itself was quiet.

Shouto blinked in surprise. Ah, so it was his turn to listen to the inner thoughts of his alternate counterpart. He figured it would happen eventually as a team leader sent out by Bakugou. Thankfully Iida’s thoughts weren’t too overly invasive or traumatizing to listen to, Shouto could only hope it was the same for his on-screen self. Granted, watching his counterpart approach an ugly-looking building on screen, he tended to be even more… blunt, than his over-enthusiastic class president. 

“Alternate Shouto is right,” said Mina, pulling a face. “It’s kinda creepy, being all quiet.” 

“Well, it’s not like you could run this simulation in an active city. We’d be putting civilians at risk. There’s not a lot of alternatives other than the civil bots,” remarked Itsuka, reaching for another piece of popcorn, the deliciously warm and buttery piece melting into her mouth. The room must have some sort of magic to it because despite being a good hour or more from when it was made, nobody’s popcorn had turned cold, or run out. “And you can only program so much personality into them.” 

“I mean,” started Midoriya, which caught the attention of a few people seated around him. “You could staff the city with the other classes. Have Gen Ed, Business, and Support running various businesses and taking on certain roles like reporters or government officials. And the other hero courses could take up the role of police, or another hero agency, or just like, extra caution in case the exercise grows too out of hand.” 

It was a cool idea, Itsuka would admit, but also felt like plenty of room for trouble, or someone from one of the other courses getting hurt. They weren’t hero students after all. 

“Hmmm…” Nedzu mused, tapping his paws together, black eyes glinting. “What an interesting proposition. However, running the exercise with the civil bots does allow for a margin of over-enthusiasm on the part of your actions. The lack of true human response affects the realism of the exercise.” His grin grew sharp, like a serrated hunting knife. “And we always try to strive for realism.” 

“That’s a level of realism I don’t think first-years are capable of handling just yet,” said Shouta, pinning his boss down with a glare. “Especially not this early in the year.” 

Shouta resisted the urge to roll his eyes, when the chimera shrugged with an unabashed grin, knowing well his boss was hoarding every detail of this exercise like a potential goldmine. If there wasn’t some sort of Hero vs. Villains exercise on this scale within the next year or so, Shouta would eat his capture scarf.  

On the corner across the intersection from his hiding place was the short wall and squat building identified as the district’s ‘government building.’ It was a horrendous piece of postmodern architecture, all blocky, brutalist angles and large windows.

“Of course, the kid with the traditional Japanese style room would find postmodern architecture ‘horrendous’,” teased Sero. “You are a walking cultural heritage info board.” 

Shouto shrugged; for all he resented his father, and his childhood was better off left to faded memories of pain and loneliness - he didn’t much mind the house he grew up in. The paneled walls and tatami mat floors were quiet and comforting. Natural woods and paper reminded him to be careful with both his ice and his fire. Shouto could easily sit in the perfectly manicured gardens for hours listening to the birds and the shishi-odoshi rhythmically hitting the rocks. His preference for traditional styles in his own dorm room was a natural decision; combined with the added benefit of no haunting memories like his own home. Shouto liked his design choices. 

And, he agreed with his alternate self, postmodern architecture was indeed hideous.  

“A government building. Hmm…” Izuku scratched another tally into his notebook. Another potential avenue for objectives - a government building could house many “scenarios” lending towards criminal activities. Izuku ran down his list of options for distraction to keep Shouto’s team outside of the building allowing his own team to accomplish their objectives. 

He and his team were crouched in an alley while Tsuburaba’s team had taken over watch on a nearby roof. A glance back showed his ‘capture’ squad. Bondo Kojirō, the towering giant with the adhesive Quirk, stood at the back of the group, crouched.

Kojirō perked up from his seat towards the back of the room, having snagged a low-to-the-ground chair, but still towering over a few of his classmates. He winced at the alternate version of him on screen wearing his original sky blue suit, instead of the matching yellow of his current hero outfit. He’d changed it after his first internship and was so glad he’d gone with the change. The red, yellow, and blue made him look like a kid’s art palette. 

One of his teammates, the petite Komori Kinoko, sat on his shoulder, arm already half-covered with moss and small mushrooms as she used her Quirk. 

Kinoko did a double glance at the screen, tilted her head, and looked over at Kojirō. “I don’t know about any of you, but that looks like the largest difference I’ve spotted so far,” she said, eyes wide beneath her curtain bangs, gesturing to the version of herself on screen. It was true; although almost identical when it came down to their costumes or looks, the version of Kinoko on screen was at least two feet and several inches shorter than herself. Probably shorter than even that ball-headed boy in Class 1A. “I’m short, sure, and Kojirō-san is pretty big, but I’m not small enough to sit on his shoulder.” 

“Oh, wow!” 

“Komori-san you look so cute!” 

“I bet that would make fighting tricky.” 

“She has a long-range suppression quirk, I don’t know how much fighting she needs to do.” 

“You’ve never been on the receiving end of one of her round-house kicks before then.” 

“It’s not the only difference so far,” commented Izuku, quickly leafing back through the pages of his notebook. “Kodai’s quirk in this world is also completely different. I didn’t notice it at first-” he shot a sheepish grin over to the impassively-expressioned girl. “Sorry about that, I’m not as quick with 1B’s quirks as I probably should be. But Iida described it as a moderate growth quirk where she could enhance her size and become a giant. Not objects. We saw it on screen when she went to monitor the perimeter with Uraraka.” 

“WHAT!?” exclaimed the shocked portions of the room. Present Mic scrambled for the remote and pressed a few buttons trying to figure out how to rewind the screen. Sure enough, jumping back a couple of scenes, proved Midoriya’s words true. Kodai stood on the screen next to Iida, but when he sent her away she grew in size rather like Mt. Lady, nothing even close to their universe Kodai’s actual quirk. 

“I did notice it,” Yui mused tone as unwaveringly calm as always. “But this is an alternative universe after all. While many things have proven comparable across universes, this one proved to be different.” She tilted her head, bright blue eyes observing the screen. “It’s not too far of a stretch for that to be my quirk. My little sister can shift sizes, though right now she can’t grow taller than ten feet. Perhaps in that world, she has my current quirk.”

Mic fast-forwarded the screen back to their original stopping point and continued to play.  

She sent the spores towards the building to help prepare to seal it off.

 

Closer were the other two members: Mineta Minoru, the mini-pervert with the sticky balls,

Mineta wiggled his way above the binds of Sero’s tape, gasping for air. “This is targeted harassment! I should sue!” 

“On what grounds?” sneered Kyoka, eyes glinting with vicious glee as the pervert struggled. She hated Mineta, most of the girls in their year did. Crass, lewd, and an unreserved opportunistic pervert; Mineta never took no for an answer. Worst of all, he was smart. Smart enough to ensure Aizawa-sensei never heard the worst of his comments, smart enough to never go too far with his advances. He kept his creepy behavior just on the side of the line where the school had to tolerate it. Especially, as Momo informed them during the 1A girls' weekly spa night because his uncle was on the school board. 

Mineta sputtered, face red and splotchy, “I’ll sue for l-libel!” 

Momo scoffed daintily. “Which is only applicable if it is A) written, this is not. B) expressed through a publication; it’s in Todoroki-kun’s head. Or C) untrue,” She stated calmly, casually filing her nails with a diamond-encrusted nail file. “Which it isn’t. Your argument is invalid. Sero-kun, tape him.” 

Sero sharply saluted and sent out another piece of tape to restrain the teen, gagging him. “Yes ma’am!” The 1A girls cheered when the boy was muffled again. 

Hizashi watched on with concerned amazement. “Yo, Aizawa, are you going to do anything about that?” With Nemuri grinning devilishly, he felt it was up to him to be the “responsible adult” (oh what was the world coming to) in this situation. Keeping in mind, he also hated the teen’s perverted actions, but this felt… a little too far. 

Shouta’s face was a straight deadpan with only a hint of glee twinkling in his eyes. “Are you going to let me expel him?” he asked Nedzu. 

Nedzu sipped at his tea. “Not while his uncle’s still on the board.” 

Shouta shrugged back at Hizashi. “Kids will be kids.” Said a man who barely condoned laughter in his classroom without a mandatory five-lap penance. “He’s still breathing. It’s fine.” 

Hizashi deflated with a resigned sigh. “Why do I even bother?” 

and Sero Hanta, with the tape Quirk.

“At least it’s better than your description of Mineta,” Hanta said with a shrug. His quirk wasn’t the strongest or flashiest of the bunch. Not with superstars like Todoroki, Bakugou, and Midoriya in their class. However, he was content in the knowledge that he was several leagues ahead of whatever hole of depravity Mineta spent his time in. 

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Sero-kun.” Midoriya cut in, eyes glittering with that manic gleam the class knew well after living with the boy for so long. “Your quirk is ridiculously versatile, I think with a few minor adjustments to your outfit, and some additional support gear, you could maximize the use of your extreme range. How do you feel about self-adhesive gloves, I wrote preliminary notes-”

“And I could make them!” shouted Mei, her grin wide, dissecting the hero teen with her crosshair pupils zooming in. Mentally picturing the functions of the hero boy’s costume, it was serviceable, sure; but anything could be improved by the presence of more of her babies. Which one was the matter of just a little… experimentation .  

“-chemical composition of general connectivity compounds. I wonder if supplements right before a battle would result in enhanced tape composition. What would the digestion time on that be-” Izuku’s musing - alright it had veered into muttering territory - was swiftly cut off by a pillow hitting him straight in the face. 

“Put a fucking sock in it you hyperactive energizer bunny,” growled Kaachan. “You’ve known these extras for a whole damn year and you still act like a creepy stalker.” Izuku ducked his head, at Kaachan’s rude, but admittedly correct, admonishment. Sero sent him a grateful smile, and two thumbs up, mouthing the words, ‘We’ll talk later.’ At least someone was appreciative of his ramblings. 

Looking up, he tapped the small earpiece he wore, contacting Tsuburaba's team.  

 

“Tsuburaba, we are preparing to seal the building off. Any sign of the villains?”

 

“Not yet. There are several downed civil-bots in that courtyard, though. Most moving weakly,” Tsuburaba’s voice echoed slightly over the radio, but Shouto heard it just fine.

 

“Yeah, that would be the concern with involving live people in a simulation like this. No way to account for collateral damage” commented Hizashi with a wince. “Plus I think Recovery Girl might just kill us if we tried to greenlight something like that.” He did his best to keep a straight face when Nedzu started muttering about ethical restrictions ruining all his fun, in heavily curse-ladened Russian. 

“A problem which would have to be accounted for in the rules,” mused Midoriya, watching the frozen screen with a calculated intensity. “I bet the restrictions and goals are looser in a simulation with only other hero students involved than it would need to be for the safety of the rest of other students. There’s only so much that can be covered by liability waivers, even with UA’s reputation.” 

“Correct Midoriya-kun,” Nedzu praised. “The hero-course students do sign a litany of waivers the other courses simply do not need. An intramural exercise would need to be constructed with a certain amount of delicacy.” 

“You still threw robots and land mines at first years during the Sport’s Festival though,” commented Jin Haruhi, sitting next to the other support class student Ito Peri, three couches and a barrier made of teachers between them and their boisterous classmate Hatsume. “How many more waivers would we need to sign to be involved in-” she gestured to the screen “-this kind of debacle.” 

“Many.” Nedzu couldn’t stop the slight twitch of a smile when he saw Midoriya’s eyes sharpen, not in fear or anger, but contemplative fascination. Oh, yes, it was a shame he hadn’t taken a closer interest in the young boy’s more…peculiar traits. Well, no time like the present, and if their Midoriya Izuku was anything like his screen counterpart… He might just have found his newest personal student. 

Shouta sighed, watching his boss’ tail flick in excitement. This was why he wanted to keep his problem child away from Nedzu’s scheming paws. This entire inter-universal nightmare had blown that plan out of the water, and so close to the end of their first year too. At least some delay was better than none. Watching years of Hizashi maneuvering in the chimera’s crosshairs proved it was a challenging and morally dubious position to land in. Pitying the kid would be his gut reaction if he didn’t have the sneaking suspicion the problem child would like Nedzu’s brand of mentorship. 

“Understood. Keep me updated.” With that, he tapped his comm again  

 

Considering how to proceed, he decided a dash to get closer, even if just to the outer wall, would be best.

 

"Komori, start with the paralytics. Everyone else, medical masks." Sero, Mineta, and Shouto all slid their masks on. Then, with a nod, Tsuburaba turned the corner. Filled with purpose, he began striding out into the street towards the government building, his team falling in a diamond position.

“Nope, that's gonna trigger whatever defenses are set in place to distract from the work going on inside,” commented Izuku, jotting down a few more ideas as to what the objectives inside the building could be. Kidnapping, stealing documents, and trophies, or accessing governmental databases were all options, but he didn’t think he’d direct his team towards anything more complicated than such at the outset of the exercise. He wanted to check Kaachan’s response times first. 

Shouto scoffed, “Yeah, well we can’t just stay in a stalemate the whole time. Plus with Komori-san’s quirk, we’d be able to incapacitate any villains during the initial meeting. It’s the only opening move without dragging out what could be a hostile situation.” 

“No,” said Aizawa-Sensei, gaining Shouto’s attention. “You could have sent in a small scouting part to determine how many villains were present, or what type of conditions you were working with. Going straight into detainment with Shemage’s quirk covers some but not all of the potential situations you could encounter. And considering what we’ve seen so far of the villains’ preparations, and that they know what type of quirks are likely to be used against them. They likely have measures in place to deal with her spores.” 

Shouto slumped back against the couch seat and repressed the urge to sigh. Hearing a critique of his leadership, even if it wasn’t him, was difficult. Especially knowing his Sensei was completely right.  

“Contact, front doors. Single target.” The crackle of the radio was unexpected, making his team tense as they continued. “He’s moving to meet you. Watch out.”

“And the green bean is right once again!” cheered Mei with a wide grin. “Up top!” Izuku returned her high-five with a slap, and the two collapsed into maniacal giggles on their side of the couch. Uraraka ducked her face into the bright pink pillow she held to avoid being seen smiling at their antics; she was on the hero team after all. 

Shouto rolled his eyes at the display and ignored the tiny spark of jeal- something, at watching Izuku and the pink-haired support girl interact so easily with each other. Izuku was, of course, allowed to have friends outside of their class. But it still felt wrong, somehow. 

The heroes were halfway across the intersection when a figure dressed in matte black body armor and deep blue accents, a long black jacket, gas mask, and hood stepped out from around the corner of the gate, one hand up in a placating motion.

 

“Heroes, so nice of you to show up!” a muffled and distorted voice called out.  

 

“Who’s that?” 

“Nice outfit!” 

“Ten bucks it’s Aoyama.” 

“Nope, I think it’s Monoma.” 

“I’m really loving the aesthetic of the villain team here,” commented Mina, grinning sharply. “It’s giving faceless noir mobster vibes.” 

Kayama smiled at the display of showmanship on the screen. It felt like something she would teach in one of her second-year classes on personas and  “Image and presentation can certainly be an effective tactic at directing your enemies’ attention. Whether you’re a hero or a villain; it’s important to know when you’re using it and when it is being used against you.” 

Izuku jotted down the word; Presentation , in the margins of the journal, underlining it three times. Personas were an important aspect of hero work, but he’d never put much thought into crafting one before. He genuinely wanted to help people by smiling, promising them they were safe because he was there; whether in or out of his costume. But, watching this exercise play out before him, he wondered if that was all he should be… 

Shouto slowed, the rest of his team spreading out behind him.

 

“Flank and capture. Go–” Shouto began.

 

“I really wouldn’t, heroes.”  

 

(Who was this? Shouto didn't recognize them)

Izuku squinted at the screen trying to deduce which member of his villain team this was. “I don’t think it’s anyone from 1A, the sizing for any remaining male members is off, besides Aoyama, but I don’t think I’d put him as the distraction. So, someone from 1B - likely Monoma, Awase, or Kaibara.” 

“Oh, so that’s all 1B is good for then,” sneered Monoma, his voice bitter and resigned. “Just a distraction?” 

Izuku resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the blond-haired teen. Whatever he said always landed wrong with Monoma. “No…” he said, very politely to anyone who didn’t know him well, but to his friends sitting nearby a shiver raced down their spines as they picked up on the note of irritation in the normally sunshine boy’s tone. “Aoyama’s quirk is ideal for long-range short bursts of destruction, but over a while, it weakens as the pain builds up, especially this early on in the year. For a long-term confrontation and distraction - which this is - Aoyama’s quirk would place him at a disadvantage. Something I don’t want my team to face unless necessary, since, as Aizawa-sensei already informed us, the villains are already at a disadvantage. You, or Awese or Kaibara would be better suited to a drawn-out confrontation, but…” he tilted his head, looking more intently at the masked and suited figure on the screen. Years of observation and analysis honing in on every detail. 

“It’s likely Kaibara; he has a better handle on his emotions than you and Awase. This standoff is key and needs a level head to maintain tension enough to scare Todoroki’s team without pushing them into taking action.” 

Neito blinked at the quick and logical rundown, even though the idea that 1B was the distraction instead of the action - never mind the last section showed Kuroiro-san partaking in destruction with Tokoyami - still smarted. At least, he could admit that Midoriya was showing he had quite the tactical mind, if he had to work under someone in 1A the past hour or so had squarely proven Midoriya was leagues better than Bakugou. 

Sen beamed from his seat over on a plush red couch. He didn’t know Midoriya very well, but it still felt nice that the other teen thought he was mature enough to handle what seemed to be an important opening play for the villains. 

“Why do they need to scare me?” Shouto asked, heart still beating fast after watching Midoriya deconstruct who the masked figure was likely to be. UA was an institute acclaimed for its rigorous academics, not a single one of their classmates was dumb - even if a few particular classmates had their weak points - but watching Midoriya’s brain at work was breathtaking. 

“Because,” Midoriya said, with a growing smirk, that should not send Shouto’s heart racing as it did. Maybe this was fear? It didn’t quite feel like fear. “This isn’t just a distraction…” he nodded his head to the screen as the next few seconds played out just like he thought they would. 

From his pocket, the villain pulled a very easily identifiable object. Black plastic, a big red trigger, and a radio receiver antenna.

 

A detonator.

 

“After all, the fireworks show we have prepared is… very loud.”

“It’s a threat.” Izuku couldn’t help the pleased little grin on his face. He was right. Yeah, maybe threatening to blow up a building wasn’t very heroic, but he wasn’t the hero in this exercise. 

“OOOOHHH!!!” 

“Damn!” 

“Brilliant Midoriya!” 

“How did you know?” 

“Do you seriously have the building rigged to explode?” 

“I thought someone bet on that? Who bet on that?” 

The two classes laughed and chatted over the events on the screen. Toshinori sat on his chair towards the back of the room and watched the screen with a slight frown. This… wasn’t quite the route he expected young Midoriya to take. Of course, it wasn’t his Midoriya on screen, but his Prince of Nonsense had predicted the move without missing a beat. Not that there was anything wrong with going Plus Ultra on an exercise, but this… 

He chanced a glance over at Aizawa-san, looking utterly exasperated, but not surprised. Meanwhile, the principal watched the screen with a sharp smile and paws rubbed together in glee. Toshinori respected Nedzu. The mammal’s struggle to gain autonomy and power, and then turn around to help others with it was the true sign of a hero, in Toshinori’s eyes. That didn’t mean he missed the creature’s casual insanity or predilection towards chaos. The fact he seemed so interested in Midoriya when he’d previously been aware but distant of the boy’s position as Toshinori’s protege, was… disconcerting. 

Kayama whistled loudly when the din of chatter began to overtake the room. “Thank you,” she said with a playful smile. “Now, we do need to move this show along, kiddies. Settle down.” She received a few muttered affirmatives, and the screen started playing again. 

Shouto stopped, tensing. This wasn’t an assault mission anymore. It was now a hostage situation.

 

Over the comm, he could already hear Tsuburaba radioing in.

 

Bakugou would never let him live this down.

“Damn fucking right IcyHot! How hard is it to secure one lousy building?” Katsuki yelled at the legacy boy. Todoroki glanced over his shoulder with a deadpan expression. 

“Pretty hard when the villains are already in control of the area,” he hissed, an edge of annoyance creeping into his normally calm demeanor. It’s not like Bakugou’s counterpart was doing any better in his situation. Which was plain to see as the image of alternate Shouto faded off the screen, replaced by the fight at the bank. 

The sun rose higher in the sky. Rubble and twisted cars littered the torn-to-shred street. The sounds of explosions in the distance burst through the speaker of the viewing room. The watchers leaned forward in anticipation, as the alternate version of Bakugou raced on screen. 

Katsuki jumped, using an explosion to twist in midair, dodging back.

 

The early morning sunlight was their biggest ally and their biggest enemy right now. Kuroiro's Quirk, ‘Black,’ allowed him to fuse with the ‘black air’ cast by the shadows and smoke, which made the entire area of space he was connected to pitch-black. That amorphous cloud was wrapped around the middle of the street, centered on Tokoyami. The fact that the streets leading up to the sun-backed bank were cast in shadows meant that they were almost entirely consumed by the shifting and twisting mass of darkness.

 

Izuku couldn’t help but beam at the coordination between Tokoyami and Kuroiro’s quirks. He theorized that they would be an effective team together ever since their mock battle against 1B back before Winter break. He’s glad to see the reality of that hypothesis playing out. 

“Wow!” exclaimed Denki. “I don’t know whether to be terrified or in awe. How do you even beat something like that?” 

Katsuki scoffed, eyes darting around the screen trying to figure out that exact problem himself. “By blowing it up!” he growled, even knowing approaching close enough to disrupt the two emo kids’ coordination would be tricky without getting caught in their shadow gate barrage. 

 A glance at the clock told Katsuki he had time on his side, as noon would be approaching, but that didn't really matter because—

 

He lept over a massive chunk of a car being slammed out of the shadows.

 

—Dark Shadow was more than powerful enough to rip through anyone in his way while in the shadows. And that wall of cars wasn't a blockade—

 

A twisted chunk of bus crashed off the nearby walls, shattering a glass storefront.

Everyone in the room flinched at the deafening sound of shrieking metal as it crashed into the city street. Shattered glass and loud explosions filtered through the speakers, and the sounds of battle filled the room. 

“Woah! This is like, so freaking cool!” called Kirishima, eyes glued to the screen as the image of another piece of twisted metal hung in the air. 

“Did anyone have two-ton projectiles on their list?” joked Kyoka, wincing at another loud explosion as it filtered through the speakers. A small tap on her shoulder had her turning around. Leaning over the arm of the couch, Momo had a pair of purple headphones in hand. 

“Here,” she smiled softly. “I know these noises aren’t comfortable for you.” 

“O-oh, u-uh, th-thanks, Momo.” Taking the headphones from her, Kyoka blushed when their hands brushed together, skin soft and warm. It sent her heart sputtering, butterflies flittering in her stomach, and turned away from the beautiful girl quickly hoping to hide the red mess her face had become. Shoving the headphones on, the sound from the screen was significantly reduced.  

—it was ammunition.

 

Katsuki had already ordered Shiozaki’s team and his own to start rescuing civil-bots, rushing them to a designated shelter a few blocks away. 

“This would be the dangerous part of including other departments in an exercise of this scale,” said Higari, watching the screen with a fair amount of unease. He was a demolition hero, he dealt with the aftermath of battles - removing debris and rescuing people trapped underneath. He could only imagine the type of danger teenagers would be caught in the crossfire of an exercise without restraints. 

“The potential amount of severe injuries, we would have to have an entire medical team on-site to deal with anything. If the villain team is starting with an opening move like this, who knows what other potential plans they have up their sleeve?” He chanced a glance over at Aizawa’s problem child. He didn't have the chance to interact with the boy much, but from the looks of it he got along like a house on fire with Hatsume, and that was a dangerous combination. 

“Yes,” mused Nedzu, this would be quite dangerous if the other students were involved, but so are our everyday lives. A large-scale villain attack and hero response is a common occurrence. We could pitch it as an emergency preparedness drill, with the right support and documentation I’m sure…” The small mammal descended into his type of mutter storm from there. It wasn’t audible, but to anyone who’d been around the creature for a significant time - like Hizashi, watching anxiously from his spot a few feet away - it was clear that Nedzu’s mind was spinning just as fast, if not faster, than Midoriya. 

At this point, despite Katsuki's sincere anger at the situation, all he could do was wait for the sun to rise high enough so they could get close.

Katsuki grumbled lowly but admitted his alternate counterpart was right. The combination of those two rip-off horror show extras proved an effective obstruction, and getting any closer was likely to injure his team too early on in the exercise to justify engaging closer. 

“Well done keeping your anger in a tense situation, listener,” complimented Hizashi. He knew from evenings of talking with his husband that Bakagou had grown a lot in the past year, The boy had been practically feral at the beginning of the year. Barely stopping to think about what he was doing before jumping in. And certainly not giving a second thought to teamwork. That a younger version of himself had pulled in his pride enough to work with others was a good thing, and meant their Bakagou could do so too. 

“Tch,” Katsuki scoffed, ignoring the warmth of pride from his teacher’s compliment. Of course, he would get a compliment. He was the best after all. Even if this version on screen wasn’t him. It was an alternate him, which made him the best. 

He glanced around. 

 

His team was the ‘hammer’ of the squads; Tetsutetsu, Kirishima, Sato, and Rin Hiryu, all physical fighters with some form of strength or durability enhancement. Even now, they were holding the line, catching or deflecting the tossed bits of automobiles, while Shiozaki’s more range-and-utility-focused support team dealt with civilians.

“Highly specialized - too specialized,” muttered Izuku. However, no one else seemed to hear as he noted the structure of the teams. Knowing who was exhausted or potentially injured early on in the exercise would come in handy later. 

Meanwhile, Ibara watched her on-screen counterpart with a serene smile. It was nice to see her abilities used in a wholesome manner. She abhorred violence, and would rather be a pacifist if not for the insistence of her family on utilizing her God-given talents for the betterment of the world. The compromise of a rescue hero was about as close to her own wishes as she was allowed. 

He hissed as he got a report over the comms from Tsuburaba. Half and Half was stuck in a standoff and they had no idea who the opponent they faced was. All they could tell was that they were male, taller than normal, and didn't show signs of a mutation Quirk. And had a gas mask, so the spores from Shroom Girl wouldn't affect him.

 

That narrowed it down to maybe one of five possible people. The four Class-B guys who were villains, or Aoyama. It probably wasn't Aoyama, given the figure wore all black and blue.

“The villain team has such flair!” squealed Yuga, watching the screen with excitement. “But such plain colors would hardly suit my shining personality. Midoriya, mon amie, you wouldn’t let such fabulousness go to waste, non?” 

Izuku smiled. “Probably not Aoyama-kun, your outfit will fit with the theme and your personality too, I’m sure of it.” 

As Katsuki blasted another flying tire out of his way, he looked up . 

 

It was almost nine o’clock now. Two hours and the sun would be high enough to attack again.  

 

For now, he gritted his teeth and fell back, barking orders over the comms.  

“Yeesss,” hissed Izuku, burying a pleased smile behind his hand. Mei looked over and gave him her own conspiring grin. 

“All according to plan?” she whispered.

“If I think what is happening is happening, then Kaachan falling back is exactly what my plan needs to be in place. Plus, the longer the standoff continues the more exhausted the heroes will be which will contribute to the opening moves' effectiveness.” It was satisfying watching a good plan come together. Bubbling pride and anticipation made it difficult to keep a pleased smile off his face. 

Izuku couldn’t believe how… excited he was to watch a team he led play at being villains. He’d spent his whole life wanting to be the hero, maybe it was just the oddity of seeing a plan work against Kaachan. He could see it all so clearly in his mind, and his oldest friend was falling right into the trap. 

He would set up a perimeter, keep the place on lockdown, and see what High Class says.

 

After all, he had a better plan than to send his most mobile team into the tunnels, where they would be at a heavy disadvantage.

“Non, monsieur Bomb Voyage! Those tunnels are to be avoided, they reek of second act odeur!” 

Several people turned their heads back to look at the French teen in confusion. 

“Aoyama…” began Sero, watching the French boy with a wary expression. “What are you talking about?” 

Izuku shook his head, marking out another section on his cobbled-together plan in his notebook. “No, no, he’s right. With Iida and his team discovering the villain's use of the sewers, Kaachan has two options - send them to investigate, or use them to bolster his defenses. Investigating this early on when he still has the mindset that this will be a short-lived exercise would be seen as a poor use of resources. He’d rather use their mobility to help with the standoff at the bank.” 

He tilted his head as he watched the stilled image of his rival on screen, oblivious to how the whole room was listening to him with bated breath. “While I doubt I planned for the sewer usage to be discovered this early, I would account for the standoffs being enough of a threatening distraction to draw focused heroic attention on the visual threat rather than the rest of my team working in the background on the villain's objectives.” He frowned, grumbling the next part, “What those objectives are, I still don’t know because the screen hasn’t shown a decent picture of the rule book given to me.” 

“Regardless,” he pivoted, barely giving himself enough time to breathe before diving into a new topic. “While a confrontation in the sewers is highly likely now that Kaachan knows we’re using them like Aoyama said, it’s ideal if that happens later in the exercise. Pushing it back gives my team enough time to set up traps, countermeasures, and contingencies so when the inevitable clash occurs there will only be losses on the hero's side.” 

Izuku ended his explanation and turned to face the rest of the room, now totally silent in the wake of his rambling. Even Kaachan, though his face was a bright red, looking ready to explode or have a heart attack. Izuku knew the chemical composition of his blood would make him more prone to heart scares. 

Normally a wave of embarrassment would wash over Izuku. Panic so blinding he would blush, duck, and curl to hide. But for some reason, it didn’t come. All Izuku felt was confidence, and assuredness that he was right. And even a bit of adrenaline at what was to come. 

“Is anybody glad all of a sudden, Midoriya is not a villain?” Ojiro asked. Hands flew up all over the room. At that, Izuku did feel a little bit of nervousness.

“Guuuuys,” he pleaded, eyes wide and smiling sheepishly. “Come on, I’ve only ever wanted to be a hero my whole life. I’d never be a villain.” 

“Yeah, and it’s a good thing too,” Kaminari said. “Because you’d be terrifying.” Murmured agreements echoed around the room, and Izuku should never have commented on his confidence, as it slowly started to crumble in the face of the slight fear he could pick up from among his classmates. 

A poke to his side drew Izuku out of his head. “Come on Ten Mill,” Mei whispered with a softer smile than her usual maniacal grin. “You’re a genius. Greatness will always scare those who can not perceive its advantages. Don’t let the plebs get you down.” 

“Mei…” he groaned in embarrassment. Though secretly he was glad at least one person didn’t seem to be looking at him in wary fear. At least nobody was calling him a quirkless freak like the kids at elementary and middle school used to do. 

Instead, he would call them over to help with the bank. He could use another flank.

Katsuki scowled as Pinky - the damn traitor - laughed her head off. “Well after listening to the boss, I don’t know if that’s gonna help as much as you think it will, Blasty!” she teased, grinning wide. Deku sputtered in the background, looking like an overripe tomato. 

“Shut up, raccoon eyes,” Katsuki scowled, doing his absolute best not to lose himself to his temper. He doesn’t want to deal with his powers shutting off again. Even if the shitty nerd deserved it for thinking his alternate self could outwit Katsuki’s counterpart. 

The scene of his alternate self retreating in the city faded, and a black screen appeared with the words:  

7 days before the exam (after school)

Nothing set the morning light and pounding explosions of Training Ground Zeta in starker contrast than the next scene calmly panning over the scattered trees in the UA courtyard, evening light setting the image in a warm glow. In the background- accompanied by the chattering of students - noticeable for the first time - a soft lilt of piano music trilled; bright and airy, with a hint of mischief. 

“Whoa, this universe has background music!” 

“It’s like something out of a school anime!” 

“It kind of feels like we’re watching an anime.” 

“If this was an anime I would be the main character!” 

“No, I would!”

“Come on we all know it would be me!”

“Can all you shitty extras shut up? If anyone is the main character it would be me!” 

Ochako placed a hand on Izuku’s knee. She gestured for him to lean down and he did. “I think if this were an anime,” she whispered with a conspiratorial grin. “You would be the main character.” When Izuku’s face went bright red like a strawberry, she could barely keep from laughing herself silly. 

Izuku sat with his back to a tree in the courtyard. 

 

He had a few minutes before he had to leave and there was something about the rules he wanted to check one more time…

On-screen, he pulled the slightly wrinkled rulebook out of his bag and flipped through pages too fast for Izuku to make out any of the kanji on the page. Huffing, he had the feeling however this universe-watching thing worked, it was trying to keep him from discovering more about the exam before it was shown on screen. 

Finally, the flipping of the pages settled and the camera zoomed in on one particular rule blurring out the others above and below. 

Yep. The viewing was deliberately withholding information. 

Izuku didn’t know whether to bristle in indignation or find it all the more fun of a challenge to try to match and dissect what he was doing on screen. 

‘Rule 12: Heroes and Villains are not allowed to enlist the support of UA teachers and staff for extra equipment or training for the exam. UA staff are to be neutral and objective observers of the teams involved.’

 

What was more interesting was what it didn’t specify.

“Huh? I don’t get it,” Kirishima said, rather confusedly and blinking. “I think that rule is pretty straightforward bro. The teachers can’t help us.” 

“Well…” mused Izuku, turning the particular phrasing over in his mind, ‘...for the exam.’  “Oh…” he breathed out, a small smile curled around his lips. “I know how to get around that.” 

“REALLY!?” 

“WHAT!” 

Chopping his hands with agitated distress, Iida sent him a disapproving look. “Midoriya, don't tell me you plan to cheat!” 

Izuku scoffed, holding up two hands to proclaim his innocence. “No cheating involved Iida. Only very clever wordplays and traps. That I’m sure was put there exactly as the principal intended.” 

Nedzu smiled thinking of all the possibilities young Midoriya might choose to work around the rules presented to him. It would be a testament to the boy’s ingenuity to execute them in the exercise. Hoping his own counterpart would realize the display for what it was, he would spend his energy watching his own Midoriya reacting and analyzing the moves on screen. While the exercise itself might have proved more illuminatory, the sheer amount of intelligence and strategy the boy demonstrated in the past few hours was enough that Nedzu was disgruntled he’d not picked up on the talent sooner. “Oh, yes, I’m very sure my counterpart did indeed account for that slip in verbiage. I just wonder what yours will do with the opportunity.” 

“Uh….” started Tetsutetsu raising a hand. “Anybody want to fill in the rest of us non-genius people on what’s happening here?” 

Nedzu shook his head, taking a sip of tea that was still delightfully warm nor had run out. “No, no, this is a learning experience. Take it as an opportunity to read between the lines.” 

Everyone else turned to Midoriya, hoping the teen would reveal what his onscreen self was referring to, but he stayed silent. 

He stood and stretched, before turning and almost running into someone.

 

“Oh, sorry, didn't see you there!”

Mezou smiled beneath his mask, watching Midoriya clumsily run into his alternate self. “You know Midoriya-san, that's not generally a problem I tend to have.” 

Izuku covered his face in embarrassment. “Sorry Shouji-san, I should have been paying closer attention.” 

“No problem,” came the quiet voice, as Izuku looked up at the taller boy.  

 

He recognized the distinctive six arms and face mask. 

 

“I was actually looking for you.”

 

“Shouji-san?” Izuku tilted his head, curiosity in his eyes.

 

“Could we, perhaps, walk and talk?” Shouji gestured towards the path leading away from UA.

 

“Of course!”

 

Shouji and Izuku shared pleasant small talk for several minutes until they were close to the gate and away from people.

 

“I’ll be clear and simple. I want to join the villain team.”

“Wow, go bold there, Shouji!” cheered Kirishima, but his expression judged the choice. It was to be expected after all, they were heroes-to-be, and not many would willingly choose to be on the slide they were all learning to fight against. “Of course, the hero team will still win.” 

“Of course, the hero team is gonna win!” screamed Bakagou. “It’s my damn team, and anyone who chooses otherwise obviously wants to fucking lose.” 

The six-arm teen crossed his upper two sets of arms. “Maybe. Maybe not. But this early on in the year, I think I have a pretty good idea of why my alternate self is so quick to join Midoriya’s team.” 

Izuku beamed up at Shouji. “Of course, you can join! Is there any particular reason why?”

 

Shouji shrugged, looking off into the trees.  

 

“At the Sports Festival, I felt like I underperformed. I was key in the second match, defending my team, but it felt… cheap, particularly when losing. Then I saw you and Todoroki fight and was in awe. You and Todoroki fought like the world was about to end because of ideals. 

“It wasn’t all that,” said Midoriya, face flushed, nervous tick showing as he rubbed at his neck. “I just wanted to prove that Todoroki’s fire was just as much a part of himself as his ice.” 

“It may not have been because the world was ending,” admitted Shouto, looking over at his friend. His first real friend. Midoriya had seen him digging his own grave to spite his father, and instead of writing him off or showing him up, he sacrificed his win - his arms -  to show him a better way forward. “But it certainly changed my world.” He didn’t understand why that caused Midoriya to blush even harder, the green-haired teen burying his face in his hands where an unintelligible mumble could barely be heard. 

“Todoroki, my man,” Sero said with a grin. “ You have no right to be so smooth.” 

Shouto cocked his head in confusion. “How is the truth considered smooth?” He didn’t understand why the whole room laughed at that. 

Beyond that, I know you tend to plan and outwit most people in class when it comes to Quirks, and I have a strong feeling you can win this… 

 

And I’d like to be on the winning side for once,” Shouji trailed off, voice softer for that last part.

Kaachan may scoff in the background, but the genuine tone of vulnerability was all Izuku could focus on. He wanted to prove this hope in him, this hope of a chance to win, wasn’t misplaced. His mind raced positioning Shouji in his plans, wanting the other teen to have an elevated role in his plans. 

“I have to agree with him,” said Shouji softly, a couple extra eyes peering over to Izuku. “My alternate self hasn’t seen half of what I know you’re capable of pulling off, so I know we have a shot to win this for sure.” 

Izuku couldn’t stop the welling of tears in his eyes, at the genuine compliment. “I- I hope I won’t let you down,” he warbled out, ducking his head as more tears leaked out. Underneath though, now hummed the familiar tune of grit and determination. It wasn’t something Izuku was unfamiliar with. The same bubbling drive had pulled him out of bed every morning for months to clean up Dagobah Beach. The same determination braced him through every grinding, humiliating day in middle school. 

This, though, was different. Sharper. Gleeful. He didn’t know where it was coming from. 

It should scare him. 

Izuku, worryingly, realized it didn’t. 

He jerked when Izuku grabbed his shoulder.

 

“Well then,” came Izuku's voice, dark green eyes glinting with something akin to sharp glee. “I suppose I can’t let you down now, can I?”

Several people chuckled as the sentence mirrored their own Midoriya’s promise. Others caught the undertone that was just a tad off from Mirdoriya’s normal sunshine kindness and found the dissonance to be slightly alarming. Although many who knew their counterparts were villains were glad Midoriya seemed so eager to make sure his teammates had a chance of success. 

Meanwhile, the teachers exchanged worried glances (or unadulterated delight, in Nedzu’s case) at the personality switch on the young boy. Though in the back of their minds, they knew that this was a different boy - a different Midoriya Izuku who had yet to watch his classmates kidnapped, All Might forcibly retire, hero exams attacked, his internship hijacked by Yakuza - they couldn’t hold either of them to the same reactions. But their Midoriya had never shown such tendencies of cool calculation and vicious retaliation. 

Right? 

Shouji was still off guard when Izuku turned and started walking.

 

“Come on, villain. Let's see what we can work out before we head home.”

 

After a moment, Shouji was quick to follow his new leader.

“Glad to have you on board Shouji-san!” Izuku said with a bright smile. “I’m sure you’ll make a wonderful addition to the team.” Already his mind was swirling with possibilities for the multiple-limbed teen. Shouji had an insane reaction time and could fling people ridiculously far away. He’d make for a great melee fighter, but he specifically wanted to be more than what he accomplished during the Sport’s festival. Multiple eyes and hands would make him good at coordination, perhaps even handling multiple screens. He wondered if Ground Zeta had a camera system installed. Probably. He’d need to take into consideration what a ‘hero agency would have access to’ maybe….

The rest of the room watched in amusement, panic, or annoyance in Katsuki’s case, as Midoriya devolved into another unintelligible mutter storm. 

“Should we… do something about that?” Itsuka asked with a slight grimace. She thought this was the most amount of time the two classes had interacted with each other outside of a fight scenario. She knew that Class 1A was a bit more… eclectic than her own could be at times, but Midoriya's muttering took on a slight mad prophet air that made her worried. Whether it was for the boy, or everyone else she wasn’t a hundred percent sure of. 

“No,” droned Aizawa. “If you shake him out of it he’ll likely fall into another, or an apology spiral. He’ll come out of it eventually on his own, just start up the next section.” 

Chapter Text

The screen faded from Midoriya and Mezou, the golden afternoon sunlight at the school gates casting them in a warm glow. A black screen appeared, low, steady music replacing the cheery piano tune. Dark, jazzy, with a dash of techno. Catching everyone’s attention, including Izuku, who snapped out of his muttering spiral. 

Day 1: 11 hours, 02 minutes (11:02 am, local time)

Words appeared on the screen in a blocky, digital text. Music swelled as the transition image faded away to a dim corridor. Sweeping through the empty hall, the invisible camera zoomed in on a partly open door, neon blue glow spilling into the hallway, enticing the viewer inside. 

Mina beamed, vibrating in her excitement. “Oh my gosh, guys, I think this is us!”  

Tokoyami settled back against the couch with a slight smirk. “Enter villains, stage right.”  

Everyone leaned forward in anticipation. During the exercise, this was the first reveal of the villain’s home base. Dramatic camerawork and music certainly gave it an air of gravitas and intrigue that the hero's introduction lacked. 

Bypassing the door came a room serving as the villain’s main hub. Dark and dramatic with large curtains drawn over windows On one end was a table, occupied by three figures. Documents and computers spread across the surface. In the center of the room was a holographic screen configuration. Ten glowing projections hovered in mid air; feeds from cameras spanning the city played at different speeds, allowing the villain team a perfect view of what happened in the training grounds. A distinct silhouette stood in front of the display. 

“Wow!” 

“Oh my!”

“That’s not fair, why can the villains see all that?!”

“Shouji, that's you!” 

“Shh… I want to see what they’re saying!” 

“Iida and his team are regrouping at the bank.” Shouji Mezou looked over the wall of holograms and camera feeds from across the city, his top arms folded across his chest as the lower four deftly manipulated the images on the screens.  

Jiro smiled slyly. “Oh those screens are so cool. Where in the world did we get them?”  

“I don’t know, but I’d like some!” 

Meanwhile, Mei sat next to Izuku, clutching his arm in a death grip, barely restraining herself from squealing. She knew those screens. Those were her babies ! 

Multiple screens for her calculations and notes right at hand was such a necessity, but she hated the physical bulkiness of actual monitors. All the available market technology didn’t suit her needs, or was waaaay too expensive. So she made it herself!

Sure, it took her eight months of sleepless nights and more than a few lectures from her middle school teachers when she was distracted, but she'd perfected the configuration before she applied to UA.

Her version of Izuku definitely knew she invented those screens, so she caught a knowing look from him; he knew exactly where the villain team had acquired such technology. Shooting back an equally mischievous grin, she settled her gaze back on the screen. Of course, her alternate self would help him however he needed. This was a huge opportunity to see her inventions field-tested! 

“Oh fuck,” muttered Majima under his breath. He knew exactly who those screens belonged to, and that did not bode well for the sanity of the hero team. Or the teachers, no doubt monitoring the exercise. 

Ito and Jin shared a look - they also knew those screens by sight. Though they did their best to avoid Hatsume’s workshop whenever possible. Too many explosions, even for their level of creativity. 

“Doesn’t look like the standard hero tech used for the schools. The heroes got an agency building, do the villains provide their own equipment?” asked Itsuka. 

“Since I still haven’t gotten a good look at the rule book, I don’t know,” confessed Izuku. He watched the screen intensely, cataloging what was in the room for the villains’ use. He was pretty sure the tech came from Mei, but they might be supplies provided by the school. “Considering the parameters of the situation, though, I honestly doubt the villains would be given much help. The exercise is not just for the heroes to fight against a villain team, but for the villains to place themselves in the mindset of those who have taken to the wrong side of the law. Villains don’t have the support networks heroes have available, and thus supplying the villain team in a similar manner to the heroes would be counterproductive.” 

A low chuckle sounded from a few couches over. “Quite right, young Midoriya,” Principal Nedzu praised. “Though it seems you’ve overcome that particular obstacle quite effectively.” 

Izuku blushed. “O-oh, I think that’s r-really due to my t-t-team sir!” 

The stoat hummed, taking a sip of his tea. “Yes, perhaps. But it is under your alternate self’s leadership that your supply obstacles were resolved. One must never forget the importance of such elements when taking into account what your opponent is capable of. Without leadership, supplies are just extraneous pieces on the board that can serve as a hindrance. It is with proper direction and utilization of assets that they become a synchronous piece of the greater board.” The room was silent as the principal’s black eyes focused on Midoriya, who stilled at the impromptu lesson. “Do you understand?” 

Midoriya nodded, facial expression flickering between shock and curiosity. “Y-yeah. I- I mean yes sir. Thank you.” 

Nedzu settled back into his seat, barely restraining himself from the wide, toothy grin he wished to sport. Oh, without a doubt, young Midoriya would prove an interesting personal student. He couldn’t wait to start the boy’s lessons once they returned to their universe. 

Peripherally, he caught Shouta and Hizashi exchanging glances. Hizashi sported a look of amused exasperation, tinged with fondness. An understandable reaction; Nedzu taught him similar lessons when he first brought the boy on as his personal student. The only one from his year that showed the potential he sought. Nedzu enjoyed having the blonde as one of his chosen students. The dichotomy between his intelligence and chosen persona of a ditzy loudmouth always appealed to Nedzu’s chaotic nature that revelled in tricking humans. 

Meanwhile, Shouta looked like his coffee machine had died an unsanctimonious death, and had been informed a replacement would never arrive. Nedzu didn’t feel the slightest bit of sympathy. Shouta kept the extent of Midoriya’s talents a secret and thus deprived Nedzu of a whole year shaping the boy’s talented mind. There was so much to do, and two years was barely enough time to do it. 

Mezou had been impressed by the outfit given to him the day before, courtesy of Hacker and Momo. 

 

It consisted of deep blue slacks, a crisp white shirt somehow tailored for all his arms, and a black tie. Along with those were a pair of black suspenders, a deep green-and-black vest, a new mask, and a matching hat. His hat was a full-on Stetson—broad curled rim, angled pinch, and tanned leather for the band.  

“Dude, you look so manly!” commented Eijiro, beaming at a flustered-looking Shouji. 

A blush crept just a tad above the multi-armed student’s mask. “Thanks, I guess.” 

“Wow, Momo, I knew you made clothes, but that stuff’s next level!” Hagakure complimented, also causing the teen to flush at the praise. 

“Who’s Hacker?” 

Mei nudged Izuku, and he shot her a small grin. They both had a strong feeling about exactly who ‘Hacker’ was. Izuku was just surprised the rules allowed for such an advantageous loophole. Bringing in outside support from the other classes would be a gold mine, especially because he had fewer hero course students on his side. 

“Double fuck,” Majima whimpered, now seeing the larger picture unfold. Oh no, was Hatsume actually on site!? She wasn’t just providing tech and support? How in the world did he sign off on that? It’s not like the girl was in the hero course. 

Though she advanced to the Sports Festival’s third round, if she hadn’t only focused on her inventions, she could have posed a serious threat to the hero course students. Majima groaned again, slumping into the couch’s comfortable cushions; it was only a matter of time before Hatsume’s nature resulted in explosions. 

Kayma gently patted the panicking demolition hero’s shoulder. Her poor colleague had his hands full with his problem child for the year. 

She also hid a small smile as Shoji received more compliments on his villain attire. She was glad the boy gained some deserved praise. The teen had grown a lot in the past year, but watching an alternate version of himself handling a situation with a cool confidence was a lovely little placebo effect; she had a feeling many of the “villain” team would experience before the end of this viewing was over. 

Alongside his ‘boss,’ it was clear that he was the muscle, the left hand. He liked the new mask the most; slightly different from his usual cloth, it was taller, coming to just under his eye sockets, and made of a tougher plastic material. After taking a few minutes to adjust, it had seemed to practically melt into his skin along the edge, and the note from Hacker and Forgery informed him that it was able to filter the air. That was a nice benefit.

Mezou blinked, a little startled hearing himself “talk” so much. He certainly wasn’t the most chatty of his classmates by any stretch. Although he had appeared briefly during the last section’s ending, the internal thoughts hadn’t been his. He now understood the uncomfortable looks on everyone else’s faces when it came to having their - or rather their alternate self’s - thoughts projected aloud. 

It did feel like an invasion of privacy. Mostly because he agreed with himself. His villain outfit was sleek and sophisticated. A part of him wanted the mask for himself, he wondered who Hacker and Forgery could be. Glancing at Midoriya, he saw the teen whispering excitedly with Hatsume, the engineering student, bright, manic looks on their faces. Maybe he’d work up the courage to ask for such a device for at least his hero costume, an adjustment he hadn’t even thought about, though it seemed obvious in hindsight. 

“Forgery and Hacker?” asked Momo, tilting her head. “Those are interesting choices for call signs.” 

“It looks like the villain names are all based on some type of crime,” Fumikage chimed in. “What an appropriate choice of theming to further strengthen the tendrils of villainy’s madness.” 

“Did you take a class on how to sound mysterious and brooding?” 

“Do tortured souls learn how to wail, or are screams the only way nature intended to convey their sorrows?” The bird-faced teen shot back. 

Dark Shadow peered out from underneath the fluffy blanket Fumikage had draped across his lap. “He watches slam poetry on HeroTube at 2 am. Thinks it makes him sound sophisticated .” The sentient quirk chirped out. 

Tokoyami’s cry of, “Dark Shadow!” was hardly heard over most of the students’ laughter. 

“Todoroki and Tsuburaba are holding, but Todoroki retreated back to the far side of the street.”

 

“Radio check,” came the voice of Izuku from the table behind him.

Alternate Izuku was shrouded in shadows, and the image on the screen only showed the tapping of his hands against a tablet, manipulating what looked to be a timeline on the screen. 

“Y’all are nailing this whole villain aesthetic!” Hanta complimented, stuffing another handful of popcorn into his mouth. Keeping his energy up was important if he was on Mineta restraining duty for the time they were there. Silently, he wished for a spread like Aoyama had over on his fancy little lounge chair. Maybe he could put something together when they took a break?  

Iida chopped his hand wildly. “Yes, yes, we have expressed much admiration for the coordination between the villain team. But their evil deeds are not to be admired, people!” 

“Relax, Iida.” Hiryu waved off the other teen’s anxiety. “We’re just impressed at the dedication to aesthetics, it’s not like we’re rooting for the villains to win here.” 

“You better fucking not!” growled Katsuki, crossing his arms. He hated watching the damn villain team extras get praise just because they were well dressed or whatever. It was stupid. Resolutely ignoring the voice in the back of his mind that sounded like the damn hag, ‘Presentation is important brat. How other people see you is half the battle. You can’t always curse people out or blow shit up!’ 

“This is Blackout. Nightmare and I are both losing steam. The sunlight has reached the end of the block and is pulling up on the doors. We are pushing our limits as it is.”

Though slightly distorted by masks and comms, the voice of Kuroiro came through clearly. He sounded winded and more than a little strained. 

“You guys have held strong for four hours,” stated Izuku. “And kept a strong distraction going against Kaachan and some of the strongest physical fighters on his team. Well done.” Even in the safety of the viewing room, Izuku’s pride in his team members couldn’t be understated. And, timeline-wise, this was before any of them attended the training camp to hone their quirks. Hell, this was before their final exams. The amount of coordination between the two dark-inclined students was a testament to how awesome they would be as heroes. Even if they were acting as villains for the moment. 

“Distraction!?” screeched Katsuki. “What the fucking hell you mean by distraction, shitty nerd!” Deku didn’t respond, turning back to the screen with an intense look of concentration, as if he was the one sitting in the room listening to his team sound off on comms. 

“This is Hold Up, the standoff’s getting tense. We’ve both taken to resting on our sides of the street, but sooner or later the tension’s gonna blow. They keep looking like they’re ready to jump the gun.”

This time it was Kaibara’s voice coming out of the comms. 

Izuku allowed himself a smile. “Looks like I was right.” Casting a glance Kaibara’s way, he gave the 1B hero a grin. “Glad to have you on the team, Hold Up.” 

Sen blinked at welcoming words and shot Midoriya a thumbs up. He was glad his part in the plan was going smoothly, and he proved to be as important as Midoriya had planned in keeping a portion of the hero team wrapped up. 

“This is PR. I got the bank vault open and the objective’s been retrieved. Waiting for the ground team to open the exit.”

Kyoka smiled as she heard the sound of her own voice over the comms.

 “Hmm, I wonder what PR stands for?" Itsuka muttered. “I don’t think I know any crimes that are  abbreviated like that.”  

“Pretty Rad?” Kirishima offered with a shrug. 

“Punkalicious Rouge!” squealed Mina. 

Shouta slumped lower into the comfy black couch cushions. “Please refrain,” he murmured so low that only his husband and Nedzu heard him. Hizashi’s shaking shoulders in surprised laughter almost made him smile. 

“Actually,” Kyoka cut in. “I think it stands for Pirate Radio, which is like underground radio stations running without government permission.” Smirking, she shot Midoriya an approving stare. “Not surprised you have me breaking into a bank vault, Midoriya. I learned how to crack a safe from my uncle when I was six. He runs a locksmithing company.” 

Midoriya scrambled to notate the information. “Perfect,” he muttered. Jerking his head up, he smiled sheepishly. “I also think it’s a great code name for you, Jirou.”  

“This is Smuggler. Bank sub-basement is estimated five minutes from contact.”

This time, Juzo’s scratchy voice came through the speaker. He nodded appreciatively at his code name. He didn’t expect to be on the villain team, but he honestly commended his alternate self on taking the chance at the position. His quirk wasn’t a traditional heroic quirk, enhancing himself or his abilities. Instead, it involved a lot of situational thinking and knowledge of terrain. Taking the exercise from the villain's perspective was the better choice in strengthening his skills. Not to mention working with Midoriya, who, as Juzo watched the other boy break down the events on screen, proved to be an incredible strategist and leader. 

Izuku bounced excitedly over on his couch, waving around his black notebook. “I still can’t believe how valuable sewer access is in a simulation like this. Honenuki, your quirk is absolutely instrumental for half of these plans to work,” Midoriya gushed. “We would need an entirely different strategy if we wanted even half a chance at winning.” 

Juzo's cheeks reddened slightly at the other teen’s effusive compliments. “Happy to be of assistance then, Midoriya.” 

“Keh, doen’t fucking matter, gonna just blow this shit to kingdom come,” Katsuki grumbled angrily. Why the hell were they focusing so much on the damn villains, he was just going to pummel them all in like a couple of hours. Why focus on all this stupid intelligence spy games bullshit?

“Larceny here. Beta charges placed, detonation is at your command.”

Neito blinked. That- that was him. That was his voice. 

“Larceny, huh?” he drawled. “I don’t take , I copy.” 

Tsuburaba rolled his eyes. “Come on, man, it’s the principle of the name. Besides, I'm more worried about what you actually said. What do you mean by detonation?!” 

Tsu giggled in the corner, marking down her own observations in her betting pool book. While many of the bets were simple, others required a more detailed approach to deciding whose predictions came true. The fact that detonation charges were already planned meant at least three people were out of the running with their belief that the only explosions taking place would come from “accidents” or “explody-boy over there”. 

“It’s part of a larger scheme, isn’t that right, Midoriya?” Neito asked. The green-haired boy raised a hand in the air, giving him a thumbs up without even turning around. Scribbling furiously into his notebook, the other teen’s hunched shoulders and general aura screamed he was deep in thought. Neito couldn’t see his face, but from the way some of his other classmates watched the kid, he imagined it was a little scary. 

For all he despised (envied) the 1A students, there was something a little scary about all of them. Not that Neito would ever admit to it out loud. 

“Forgery speaking. We are still looking for objective 3, but we have number 2 held captive and ready for transport. We require an opening to get underground.”

Momo blinked when her voice also came through the speakers. Forgery wasn’t half bad of a villain name, she decided. No more than Creati was for a hero name. She knew where her skill set lay, especially this early in the year. 

“I wonder how many objectives there are?” asked Itsuka. While not as interested in the play-by-play dynamics as Midoriya seemed to be, keeping track of what happened on screen felt important. Who knew what kind of similarities would pop up in their own, undoubtedly happening, exercise? 

"15 according to Aizawa-sensei," remembered Izuku. 

"Oh." Itsuka rubbed at her head - she hadn't had a concussion from the knock to the floor she suffered from during the battle, it it did feel a little muffled. Otherwise, she would have remembered that.  

“I wonder what kind of objectives we’re accomplishing?” asked Momo. 

Mina smiled, kicking her feet. “Crimes most likely!” 

“Confirmed all. Hold positions, update coming in five.” 

 

Mezou nodded while marking each objective down and looked back.

 

There, sitting with his mask held up to the light, was Izuku with the other two members of the ‘King’ team.

The camera shifted again, the light from the display casting the previously shadowed villains in a faint glow. 

They looked competent. 

They looked dangerous. 

A chill went down the spines of most everyone in the room. It was just an exercise after all. Just an act that these students were getting into. 

Right?

Shouto watched Midoriya - the one on screen, not the one two seats over - adjust his shirt, manipulating the screen in front of him. Determination and assurance as plain as the freckles on his face, he remembered similar expressions from the green-haired boy before. Midoriya was a passionate person who tried his best at everything. Shouto knew this, he liked this about Midoriya. He just didn’t realize how much he’d like it, even in the context where the boy was his enemy. 

Maybe that said something about him. 

Shaking his head, he curled his ice blue blanket around him and decided to put that thought in his ‘I’m-not-gonna-think-about-that’ box and ignore it. 

To the left was a figure dressed much like Izuku but with a full suit jacket and tie. A black vest on a black shirt, together with a green tie. A full-face helmet with a glowing green question mark hid his features and hair. A fedora accented with a purple and green flower in its band rested on top of it. He tilted his head, and a slightly distorted drawl came through the speakers.  

 

“Well, now. It seems that makes four objectives in reach of our hands. Eleven still left to hunt for.”

 

Midoriya frantically scribbled away, adding the new information to his own rapidly growing number of notes. 

“That’s a heck of a costume, too! Man, the villains have all the snazziness,” grumbled Denki. 

“Odd that it’s a full face though,” Present Mic mused. “Every villain so far exposed has either been too distinctive to disguise or well disguised to keep identities mysterious. This is the villain’s headquarters, so why is keeping the rest of the “kingpin’s” team’s identities secret so important?” 

“Maybe they were out and about before?” 

“Well, if that’s their costume, they’re probably important enough to stay secret until needed. Maybe the rest of the villain team doesn't either.” 

Midoriya shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t drill my team like that. Knowing your allies' strengths and weaknesses would be essential in manipulating the board like we have to do with inferior numbers.” Keeping track of the names and appearances of all his team members so far, he has a sneaking suspicion that this question-marked person wouldn’t be anybody between the two classes. 

A wild card like Mei. 

“Narrative suspense?” chimed in Aoyama, gaining bewildered glances. 

“It doesn’t fucking matter!” yelled Katsuki. “The second I find ya, none of your fancy costumes or stupid tech will save you from obliteration.” Popping some small explosions off in his hands, despite Hobo-sensei cutting them off with his own quirk, he at least expected Deku to flinch. 

But nothing. 

The nerd just sat there, calm, collected, like he had all the confidence in the world. Katsuki’s threats were just worthless words in the wind to him. 

The explosive boy watched his childhood friend rival. Something was wrong here. 

The other figure nodded, tapping furiously on her computer. Her outfit was different, a long black dress with pink-tinged snake scale patterns winding around it. Her mask was a full-face gas mask, with an attached hood and short scarf around her neck.  

 

“We have possible locations for another seven objectives and Animal is continuing his search pattern from the tunnels to try and find the rest.”

The female’s voice was also distorted by her mask, but Izuku felt Mei slap his arm gently, her smile practically escaping her face by sheer width and excitement. Truly, she was going to be such an advantage. He knew for sure that if they ran this exercise in their world, she would likely be barred from helping. 

Majima couldn’t stop his eye from twitching as he heard the distorted, but still distinct, voice of Hatsume come through. His problem child, on site, with many other problem children, all acting as villains. Dear Kami, he needed a drink. 

Koji, from his reclusive seat towards the back of the room, perked up when he heard what was likely his own criminal callsign. Although hardly inclined to violence on his best of days, he wasn’t surprised his alternate self joined the villain team. Bakagou was a pain to work with. At least Midoriya wouldn’t kill his poor ears with explosions and treat him like a useless asset in a battle. 

Standing up, Kingpin walked around the holograms to a slot of light between two curtains in a large glass window and looked out, observing the noon sun rising into position.

“I wonder where they all are held up?”

Izuku observed the screen. “Somewhere defensible. Not underground, which is odd, that would be the best choice for quick movement, given the sewer situation. I wonder if our location is important to the objectives in some manner?” The frantic emotions from earlier had calmed; now that Izuku saw where he was and what he was doing, it felt like all was right in the world. He just wished he knew all the reasons why he was giving orders. 

“Pull the Cash-Out plan on the bank. Hacker, Con Man, you’re going to be up in a few hours. Get some rest, we’ve been up half the night. 

“Oooh, I wonder what’s going to happen in a few hours?”

“Shhh. You’d find out sooner if you stopped talking.” 

Assault, help set up a chase with the government crew. Have Hold Up and Graffiti take the truck and a civil-bot hostage. Have Drug-Runner prep for them in the northern half, in the fourth tunnel,” he called out, eyes tracing the faint lines of smoke from near the bank.  

“Wow, they really stuck to the crimes for villain names theming. I wonder who everyone else is?” mused Momo. Izuku quickly charted out the rest of the names, mind racing to match them up with possible members.

“Oooh, I guess we know why Kairbara was important to keep them distracted.” 

“Can anybody legally drive?” 

“Ooooh, I can!” exclaimed Awase, to the surprise of some of his classmates. “I worked with my uncle’s delivery company last summer, and I learned how.” 

With that, Izuku marked Awase as a potential for Hold Up or Graffiti, which brought him out of the running for Con Man and increased his other likely person’s chances by 12%. Given Mei’s inclusion, a reasonable assumption led him to assume anybody from an outside course could be brought in, but his gut feeling was leading him to one particular person. 

Sekijiro groaned, massaging his forehead. “Who would sign off on this?” 

Nedzu smirked, taking another sip of his tea. “As long as they have the proper licenses, Kan-san, I say, including vehicles is a wonderful addition to the exercise’s realism.” 

Awase and Kibara high-fived each other, while Itsuka rubbed her head in exhaustion. At least she was on the same side as those two hooligans. 

“And tell them to bust out the guns for this. Leave an impression.”

“Ooooh, that sounds ominous.” 

“Wait, wait, wait, guns!?” asked Kirishima. 

“How did the villains get their hands on guns?” 

“What teacher authorized this?” 

Pony raised her hand. “Are not guns super not likely here?” 

Sekijiro sighed again, glaring at his fellow hero teacher. This had 1-A’s class’s prints all over it. Who brought in guns to a training exercise? Who did half of the things Midoriya had done in this exercise so far? This was supposed to be a simple villains versus heroes exercise like the ones they ran at the start of the year. Oh sure, a bit longer, and a bit more high stakes than just a first week teaching exercise. But it by no means should involve this much drama.

“Plus Ultra,” Shouta grumbled, ignoring the headache forming at the base of his neck and the glare from Kan. Of course, the Problem Child would get his hands on guns. The only saving grace  - unless he was vastly misreading the alternate school - would be that the rounds wouldn’t be live. 

Hopefully. 

Midoriya’s idea of “making a statement” included busting three of his limbs fighting a zero-pointer robot. He couldn’t imagine what this Izuku, who had pulled out a level of sophistication and criminal insight he had not expected, would think of an impression. Guns were practically a given at that point. 

“Will do, King.” Mezou nodded. Con Man and Hacker both murmured agreement, stretching before they stood and headed for the doors to the left.

 

Mezou started to relay orders and Izuku stood silent, waiting.

 

The opening moves were done, Bakugou was going to force the momentum sooner rather than later. All he had to do was lead it the wrong way.

 

Everyone was startled to hear the echoing quality a person’s voice took when it projected their internal thoughts. 

“Weren’t we just listening to Mezou’s perspective a moment ago?” 

“It appears the narration changes depending on who is focused most prominently on screen.” 

“I bet that’s useful for keeping us aware or unaware of certain information.” 

“Well, the note did say this was a non-linear narrative with unreliable narrators. This is ultimately a pre-selected perspective to best communicate a story - real life doesn’t contain POV changes, everyone is the protagonist in their own narrative. There are two full teams of people to focus on here, not every person’s thoughts need to be present to describe each scenario,” mused Denki. He felt the eyes of the room land on him, and he looked up to find his friends and classmates - and even a teacher or two, ouch - staring at him in disbelief.

“What!? I like stories! I know what elements read as a good story.” He pointed to the frozen screen where the afternoon light painted Midoriya in an almost angelic-like glow, a drastic juxtaposition with his villain costume and the eerie ambience of the hideout. “This is a fantastic story.” 

Several of his classmates ducked their heads, ashamed they’d underestimated the blonde-haired boy. 

Time to change the rules.

 

“Too bad. It’s a nice looking bank too.”

“What are they doing to the bank?” Satou asked in confusion. 

Shoda gasped. “Oh my god, I think they’re blowing up the bank!” 

“Is that even allowed?”

“Surely the teachers-”

“We’re still hero course students, surely we-”

“ALRIGHT EVERYONE!” shouted Hizashi, which silenced the viewing room. “Let’s not jump straaAAAaight to conclusions, listeners. We just gotta watch and wait, ya dig?” The rest of the room reluctantly calmed down, watching the screen in shock, or, if they weren’t watching the figure of Izuku on screen, they watched the one in the viewing room. 

Hizashi leaned closer to his husband. “They’re totally blowing up the bank, aren’t they?” he whispered. Shouta just closed his eyes and lightly groaned. Hizashi was gonna take that as a yes. 

The scene transitioned again. Low techno music and dark, ominous atmosphere were replaced with the sounds of battle. Bright midday light shone on the hero course students who still fought off the weakening assault by Nightmare and Blackout. 

The camera swung down to Kirishima and Tetsutetsu, batting away cars, surrounded by the rubble and remains of the ongoing fight.

Eijirou was pumped. The tension, the fight against the ‘Dark Forces of Evil’ that Tokoyami and Kuroiro presented! It was so… SO… MANLY!!!

“You know,” started Uraraka with a pout. “If I put money on what Kirishima’s inner thoughts sounded like, I would have won. Which is sad, because I didn’t.” 

“Hey!” exclaimed Kirishima. He paused. “Fair point. But hey!” The rest of the room laughed. 

And he got to work with Tetsutetsu! The two of them had a hell of a time blocking and catching the incoming vehicles. Even with strength and durability, momentum was still momentum and Dark Shadow had a hell of a throwing arm.

 

As the bright light of high noon finally began to hit, he watched the two villains retreat into the bank. Kuroiro turned the dark space behind the glass into a wall of twisting shadows as the two vanished.

“Alright, it’s time to put these villains on the ropes!” Kamakiri roared, causing several of the other heroes to cheer. The students with villain counterparts were still buoyed by the last scene and the overall skill of their team, and so weren’t scared by the rallying of the heroes. 

“Oh, I would be so sure about that,” Jirou smirked, watching the screen with great excitement. “When the ocean retreats, you do not search it out. You get the fuck out of there.” 

“Are you comparing the villains to a tsunami?” 

“Are you telling me I’m wrong!?” 

Katsuki clenched his fists together, wishing that they could just get on with this. He wondered where the fuck his on-screen counterpart was and why he hadn’t plowed through those two stupid villains. Letting the fighting go on for hours was idiotic, and he could beat them both with his hand tied around his back. So why the fuck wasn’t a whole team capable of handeling their shit!?

Bakugou stood next to him, standing at the end of the street. A moment passed, and he reached up, tapping his earbud.

 

“Iida, swing wide to flank. Shiozaki, try and clear an entrance on a higher floor. We’ll charge in sixty seconds.”

Katsuki grinned. Finally, they would see some decisive action against the villains here. It didn’t matter what Deku on screen thought; there was no actual way he would blow up a building. He didn’t have the guts. 

The whole room tensed in anticipation, if anything would happen to stop the heroes, it had to happen now.

As they gathered, ready to move, there was a sudden sound in the silence.

 

Bakugou’s phone was ringing .

 

“What the fucking hell,” he muttered.

“What the fucking hell!” shouted Bakugou in the room. A few people brave enough to snicker at the reaction garnered a stare that could set them on fire. 

“Oh, come on!”

“Damn it.” 

“Yes!” cheered Mina. 

“Traitor,” hissed Kaminari.

Eijirou was sure Bakugou had silenced it! Weird!

 

Bakugou lifted it and saw a new text message, with another video-stream link. He glanced up and scowled, before tapping the link. A moment of loading later, it started to play.

 

“Ah, Kacchan. I have to say, you and your teams have been impressive so far. Iida even found the access point! I was sure that would be a secret for a while longer.”

“It’s an acceptable loss, all things considered,” admitted Izuku, wondering how long he’d need to keep Kaachan talking so the heroes stayed away from the building. Making a statement was all well and good, but explosions were dangerous - a fact he knew very well growing up with Kaachan - he didn’t need to seriously injure any of the hero course students. Running straight into the blast radius without a clue of what was happening would be a fast way to get the entire exercise called off. “Still wish it hadn’t been located, though.” 

“But why confirm it for him?”

Midoriya shrugged. “Oh, I doubt it’ll matter bringing it up in a second. He’s about to be very distracted.” 

“With what?” 

“Well, if you’d just be patient a second,” he teased, green eyes alight with mirth and superiority that sent the alarm bells in Katsuki’s off like a hurricane siren.

“Get to the fucking point, Deku! What the fuck are you calling me for?” Katsuki growled. 

“Get to the fucking point, Deku. What the fuck are you calling me for?”

The whole room lost their minds laughing. Mina was on the floor. Even Iida’s shoulders shook at how similar the two Bakugou’s were. 

“AHHHG!!” Bakugou screeched, face alight in anger. “Everyone shut up and die already!” 

“Oh, just keeping you away from the bank for a bit longer. Don’t want you caught in the blast radius after all. Enjoy the show!” With a click, the stream cut off.

“Oh, fuck you Deku!” He cringed at the laughter from the fucking extras and some of the damn teachers too. He was supposed to be the hero! Why was everyone laughing at him?

“Explosion, explosion, explosion!” chanted Awase, Mina, and Kaibara, the three craving chaos. Though most everyone was thinking the same thing. 

“Everybody shut up, I want to watch!” 

The excitement died down, and the screen started to play again. 

Tetsutetsu paused, blinking in confusion, looking at the bank. “What does he mean by blas—”

 

Things happened quickly, but everyone would remember it for years to come. 

 

First was a flash, the windows on the bottom floor, no longer concealed by Kuroiro's blinding smoke, were blasted out by a shockwave, followed by a burst of flames. Along the central column of the building, more explosions rang out in quick succession, the windows blowing out in a cascade of broken shards, leading up.

 

For a moment it was still, before with a slow echoing crash, the building began to fold in, collapsing in on itself, sending a cloud of dust racing through the streets.  

Hizashi pressed the pause button, the whole room descending into stunned silence, for one, two, three seconds before… 

“Oh my god!”

“Holy shi-”

“What the fuck, what the actual fuck!?” 

Ito shot a concerned look at Jin. “These hero kids are actually insane.” 

From Hitoshi’s spot on his single chair, his mouth dropped open. What the actual hell! He knew the hero students were crazy - he was kinda crazy too, wanting to be one, but that's besides the point - but this was a whole other level of crazy. Exploding a building just to make an impression!? Searching for Midoriya, he found the overpowered hero course student watching the screen with an awed and satisfied expression. 

Hitoshi shivered. 

If he didn’t know for damn certain the green-haired bundle of smiles and energy was a hero through and through - even if he was a quirk-blessed idiot who tried to be way too friendly - then he would be really scared of him. Not even because of his quirk, but for the sheer amount of insanity he successfully pulled off.

Continual hysterical laughter interspersed with exclamations of disbelief. 

“They blew up the building! They actually- Oh fuck!” 

“Wow, I did not actually think they were going to do that.”

“We’re twelve hours into this exercise, and I am loving it!” 

“This is better than the last movie I went to watch in theatres!” 

Izuku blinked rapidly, the image on screen static, frozen on the dust rolling through the fake city streets. Concussive force winds blew around the hair of his classmates. Deducing what the plan was, running the odds, the potential paths based on his team’s positions, what the likely course of action his strategy would require, it was still… a lot, to see it all unfold on screen. Exactly as he’d envisioned. Crossing off the explosion plan, he wondered what type of guns they were using during the government chase; he wouldn’t be using live rounds, probably…

Awareness of several sets of eyes prickled the hair on the back of his neck. Glancing up from his notebook, he saw the combined stares from classmates and teachers alike. 

“You don’t look too surprised, Midoriya.”

He shrugged lightly, the shock of watching a building collapse at his command still running rampant in his head. “I mean… we kinda knew it was going to happen.” 

Shishida's look of disbelief matched most of the room. “Yeah man, but there is a difference between knowing you’re gonna blow a building up, and like, actually watching it happen! You are not freaked out enough about this.” 

“Kacchan and I blew up a building on the second day of school. We nearly blew up an entire training ground during our finals.” Izuku paused, head tilting in contemplation. “Admittedly, we aren’t quite there yet, timeline-wise wise with this exercise, but I feel like a building blowing up is kinda normal for this school.” 

Most of Class 1-B stared at him with a mixture of shock, confusion, and a tinge of fear. 1-A, on the other hand, shook off their surprise and nodded along to Izuku's explanation like it made perfect sense. Though for the class repeatedly attacked by villains and dragged into one mess after another, maybe it was. 

Nedzu excitedly tapped his paws together. Both Midoriyas were certainly putting on quite a show for this exercise. He was excited to see what the one on screen did, almost as much as he wanted to see how his student would react. “What an interesting opening move, Midoriya. Your counterpart is certainly setting the intensity level high.” 

“Of course you like it,” muttered Kan, wondering how in the world he ended up with Nedzu as a boss, and this as his life. It was karmic. It just had to be. “You play with deadly robots on the regular. Exploding buildings is another pastime for you.” 

Majima shook his head. “Kid, you’ve got style, but that’s gonna be a pain to remake and rebuild.” 

“Like young Midoriya mentioned, he and Bakagou blew up a building on their first day in training classes. Young Mirio has also destroyed the walls of many gyms. We are well prepared and funded enough to allocate for instances like these.” 

“Maybe,” grumbled Majima. 

Toshinori couldn’t bring himself to be very surprised. His student was dramatic - he knew this practically from the moment he met the boy. Turning to crazy ideas like blowing up a building just to set the mood for the opening of an exercise was about on par with throwing himself into the middle of a deadly, hostile villain situation with nothing but wits and a backpack. 

It was merely with villainous intent rather than heroic. 

Though he knew without a doubt in his mind his successor was a hero through and through, a small part of him wondered what would have happened if he had crushed the boy’s heroic spirit that day? Would he have gone on to be a police officer or a doctor? Would he have gone on to be a normal civilian? Or would he have been smart enough, charismatic enough, and angry enough to turn to something like this… 

Toshinori shook the thoughts from his mind. Speculation was useless, even if that’s all that viewing this alternate universe encouraged. The what-ifs and the could-haves were thoughts for the unsure. And let it never be said he was unsure about his decisions that day. Toshinori was proud that Midoriya continued his legacy.

Shouta tightly gripped his husband’s hand. He’d been a grown ass adult for years. Been present for one too many building collapses in his long career as a hero, even as an underground hero. It didn’t negate that his first building collapse, the one that took Oboro from them, would always spring to mind when he saw the drifting dust and scattered rubble. Hizashi clasped back as tightly, grounding him as he hit the play button and the screen burst to life. 

All of the teams present covered their faces, trying to see through the dust as it lingered. When it finally began to thin, they almost wished it hadn’t. The building was gone, nothing but rubble spilling into the adjacent buildings and the street in front of it.

 

“He… he blew up the building.” Sato was trying to stay calm, but Kirishima could see the faint glint of terror in his eyes.

 

At that moment, he couldn’t blame him.

 

This was suddenly far more real than he thought it would be.

Kirishima whistled slowly. “Yeah, like, man, I knew it would happen, but it was still a lot. I can’t imagine how these versions of us feel having to actually be there.” 

“You’d stop the exam if someone had gotten hurt, right?” Setsuna asked. 

“If the situation deemed it necessary,” the principal said. “We would remove the student from the exercise, of course. Though it would take a significant amount of damage for the entire exercise to be paused. Though you shouldn’t worry, I am quite sure that our counterparts are observing every second of the exam and have measures in place to provide aid if need be.” 

The students remained silent, their earlier excitement and disbelief at the exploding building transforming into something more frightful. The on-screen Kirishima was right. This was a lot more real than expected. And these students hadn’t even been through half of what they’ve experienced.

The screen faded once more to black, before the words:

6 days before the exam (lunch)

Appeared on the screen, fading away as the black screen transitioned to the lunch room at UA. As usual, the room was busy, filled with many students eating lunch. The camera panned down to Midoriya, sitting at the edge of a lunch table alone. Though it was obvious his attention was not fully on his food, his green eyes darted around the room. 

Izuku ate slowly, taking time to send glances at Shouji, Yaoyorozu, and Jirou, before tilting his head at the doorway to each of them. Soon enough, Izuku cleaned off his plate and slowly made his way to the door. Out of his periphery, he could see Jirou and Yaoyorozu stand and walk to empty their tray and Shouji beginning to stand as well.

 

He pulled out a notebook, flipping through to the new pages he had started last night.

 

Rewritten notes about the three people who had confirmed villain status, or at least implied it.

“Oh, is that what is in those notebooks of yours, young Midoriya?” mused the principal. “Notes on all your classmates?”

“O-oh, um, y-yes sir. At least one of my notebooks, number 15, has the notes of my classmates. T-though some of it has sprawled out to sixteen now because everyone keeps improving so much, and actually I should really do an updated entry on everyone, ooh maybe when final exams are over I’ll- ”

The principal hummed, and any reasonable person who heard it felt a chill run down their spine. “Hmmm, yes, perhaps, but for now, when we return, I’d like you to bring those to my office when we have our chat.” 

Izuku had the distinct sensation of being watched by a predator. “U-uh, sure. I mean yes, sir.” 

Shota groaned; fuck, the rat would refine that kid into a powerhouse mentally - and he already possessed physical power in spades. Shota needed a vacation, preferably somewhere far, far away from Japan. 

“Those are some detailed-looking notes.” 

“Oooh, do you have one on me?”

Katsuki scoffed. “He has ones on fucking everyone. I wouldn’t be shocked if he’d stalked and dissected every extra in the damn school!” 

“I don’t!” Izuku exclaimed, wilting slightly at Kaachan's disbelieving expression. “Well, it’s not everyone ; the third-year management students don’t want to talk with me, and the few second-year hero students flinch whenever I go near them because of Aizawa-sensei. So I don’t really have detailed entries.”

“...keh, I rest my fucking case.”  

Shouji’s questions were mostly limited to his arms’ capabilities. How complex and how detailed he could manipulate his flesh. A quick sketch of a possible villain attire added to the paper.

Midnight-sensei whistled appreciatively. “Midoriya! I didn’t know you were such an artist.”

“Oh, he’s always sketching things out!” exclaimed Ochaco. “Those look really nice. Looks like it wasn’t just Momo in charge of all those fancy villain outfits.”

“W-well, my aunt always says there’s power in presentation,” Izuku grinned, thinking about the long rants Aunt Mitsuki would go on about public perception and the confidence of a good outfit. While he took the words to heart about other people, his style was somewhat too… eclectic for his Aunt’s tastes. It caused many hours of curse-laden despair. “And besides, it’s not like we’ll be able to use our hero costumes for the exercise.” 

Similar sketches and notes filled pages for Yaoyorozu and Jirou, though he left the ‘weakness’ section blank. If they paid attention and decided to suddenly defect and join the heroes, he’d rather keep the weaknesses he had noticed as surprises.

“Kero, that's a pretty mercenary reading of the situation, Midoriya,” said Tsu. She always knew her friend was smart; he’d help develop a plan on the fly to save her and Mineta off that sinking ship at the beginning of the year. And more than once, she’d sat through unhinged rambling sessions where he gushed about the newest debuting hero, or some obscure fight between a French supervillain and her nemesis. Midoriya knew so much it made her feel stupid at times, but she never once thought he could be a villain 

Watching this alternate version of him - both the one in the exam and the one leading up to it - made her wonder how much she actually knew her friend. 

The green-haired boy shrugged. “Aizawa sensei made it pretty clear the hero team always won, which means every advantage I can think of is one I have to take advantage of. I can’t let them go back knowing what methods I’d use to take them out of the exercise.” 

“An area of information security that hero students don’t go into until their second year. Generally, when you all get your permits. Naughty students didn’t this year, cause you’re all such stars,” purred Kayama, enjoying the blushes on all their little cheeks. Though their lack of training on Sec Ops and Risk Management was a real problem and one of the reasons she argued against the little kiddos getting their permits a year early. “Looks like Deku is already thinking ahead.” 

He stood and waited and soon the two girls stepped out, glancing around before Jirou stepped forwards.  

 

“Hiya, Boss. We want to join the villains.”

 

They paused as Izuku roved his eyes around. “I’m not exactly in a position to decline, you understand. But, why join me?”

“You’re a fantastic leader, Midoirya,” said Kyoka. “Of course, we’d want to join you.” 

Momo nodded along. “You’re smart and strategic, even if we have no clue what’s coming next in the exercise, we know you’ll try your best to achieve a wonderful score and win.” 

Izuku ducked his head at the compliments. “A-aww thank you, glad to have you on the team. 

“Mineta. In part. We plan to tell him we’re joining the heroes and then pull a fast one.” 

Jirou laughed, “Yeah, and that too.” Several other villain team girls also nodded. 

Izuku’s blush faded at the mention of his loathed classmate. “Yeah, that’s fair.” 

A muffled voice of dismay and annoyance came from Mineta. Pushing up and above Sero’s tape, the minuscule teen freed his mouth. “Hey, that's lying!” 

“We’re villains, you little shit. Too bad, so sad,” mocked Jirou. “I’m not going to be on a team with you if I can help it, perverted little munchkin.” The rest of the ladies in the room cheered and nodded in agreement, even the hero girls. 

“Too bad that leaves the rest of us stuck with him,” muttered Uraraka.

“Oh, don’t worry,” mused Izuku. “I can’t imagine I’d plan to leave him in play for very long.” 

“Ha! You stupid villains don’t have a chance!” sneered the smaller teen. “I’m going to be the last one standing for sure, and then I’m going to get all the girls fawning over me and not y-Mmphff!” Once again, Sero's tape wrapped around Mineta’s mouth, cutting off his rant. 

“Sorry about that, ladies,” he apologized. 

Kayama leaned over to Majima. “Maybe if we got the boy tested, we might be able to get a suspension that held weight. His fixation on fame and girls is a minefield of red flags.” 

“I’d talk it over with Hound Dog, could be an underlying condition.” 

“Beyond that...” Jirou trailed off, looking at Yaoyorozu.

 

“In the Sports Festival… we didn't do very great. Both us were taken out in the cavalry round and we feel like we were unprepared. Now that we’ve gone to internships, despite how useless my internship was, we want to prove we are better than we were,” she swore, looking up at Izuku, who was shocked to see the sheer anger in her gaze.

Kendo growled, “Absolute waste of our time.” 

Momo nodded, face just as angry as her counterpart on screen. “While heroes can fill many roles and have many hobbies, Uwabami spent our internship chasing fame and applause. It was a disappointing first look at how shallow some heroes can be.” 

“Hmmm.. she does have a sparse record,” Nedzu commented. “Though she has been a pro for many years. We’ll have to look into retaining her as an approved internship candidate.” 

“She did well as a rescue hero during her sidekick years,” recalled Izuku. “And she continues to focus the majority of her heroic efforts in the field of search and rescue, her quirk is ten times stronger than the average bloodhound, and it works in conjunction with her deductive skills to search out missing people in disaster areas.” 

“Yeah, it’d be a wonderful quirk,” grumbled Kendo. “If she had stopped looking at herself in the mirror for more than five minutes.” 

“My internship wasn’t half as bad as yours, though it was exhausting,” Kyoka sighed, her legs pulsing in pain at the thought of training with Death Arms again. “Still, getting to save people with my quirk was awesome. It’s hard to imagine how far we’ve come since then. I mean, look at how young we look here,” she said, gesturing to her alternate self on screen. And it was true. Jirou, Momo, Shouji, and especially Midoriya all looked much younger than the versions in the room. Wider eyes, brighter, less burdened - stark differences showing what a difference ten months could make. While the war against the League of Villains had smoldered in recent months, the war and its effects, especially the events of Kamino, were clear to see in comparison with the younger first-year students. 

“Heroics will age you,” said Shouta, switching to lecture mode. “It’s not a game or a responsibility to take lightly. We do our best to train you so that you are prepared for whatever is thrown your way. But what you endure, what you confront on a day-by-day basis, will age you like no other field.” It was a harsh reality of the job they chose. A job he was responsible for training teenagers for, and despite the school’s best efforts, a harsh reality his students already knew too well. 

Jirou was right. The kids on screen looked so young. 

“Well, welcome aboard.” Izuku gave a smile rubbing his head sheepishly, and the tension drained from the group.

 

With that Izuku turned and started walking, leaving the girls to look on in confusion, before jumping as a rough voice spoke up behind them.

 

“We should follow him. I think we’ll find it quite informative,” the six-armed teen muttered, before nudging them both gently.

“Oooh, I wonder where you’re all headed?” 

I’m sure you’ll find out if you stop talking!” 

The girls nodded, and the three villain team members hurried to catch up to their leader.

 

Before long they all stood together looking at a heavy-duty steel door with the name card that inspired fear in those who recognized the name on a personal basis.

“Oh fuck,” muttered Ito, her fellow support student whimpering in fear beside her. 

Support lab 4: Hatsume Mei.

Mei punched the air, a wide, toothy grin stretched across her face. “Hatsume Mei is in the house!” she crowed, excited beyond all belief. Sure, she’d known since the beginning of this section that she was a part of this whole operation, but it was totally another thing to see her name spelled out on screen.

“Wait a fucking second here!” Bakagou roared. “Why the hell is Ms.Explosion Mc-Cross Eye getting involved? This is a hero course assignment!” 

Izuku tilted his head, ignoring his childhood friend’s tone, thinking about the question. “I’m not certain,” he confessed haltingly; damn if that didn’t irritate him. He wanted to see that rule book soooo bad, but he knew it wouldn’t happen anytime soon. Not with the projection actively withholding information from the watchers. “But there likely is no rule against bringing in students from other courses.” 

“Bullshit!” Kaachan cursed. 

“What do you mean, students, Midoriya?” asked Aizawa. 

Izuku internally groaned. Oh, Aizawa-sensei was quick to catch slips of the tongue like that. No one else was likely keeping such close track of who was on his team as he was - well, besides the Principal, but it was unlikely the stoat would ruin his fun by mentioning anything - so it was unlikely anyone had noticed the odd extra amount of villains available to him. 

Aizawa sensei’s glare meant explaining. 

“I’ve run the numbers, and names I have so far against everyone who is not on the hero team. I have at least one extra person besides Hatsume on my team. If I may?” he asked Present Mic. The blonde-haired hero threw him the remote. Using the rewind button, he returned to the beginning of the section. Pausing on Con Man’s face, he rose from his seat on the couch, gesturing to the screen with a broad sweep of his hand as he faced the rest of the room. 

“Based on this person’s build, height, and using reasonable deductions of all the available villain names, none of the fifteen people I have could be this person. The only options that haven't been named or seen are Awase, who is likely Graffiti, if his earlier info transfers. Aoyama, the only male left on this list who hasn’t been accounted for, and - and this is not an offense to you, Aoyama, you’re great at what you’re good at-”

“No offense taken mon ami.” 

“-being 'restrained' and 'stoic' is not in his wheelhouse.” Izuku punctuated his explanation with air quotes because, and he could not overstate this enough, Aoyama had no concept of subtlety, and trying to imagine him being Con Man was impossible. “The last remaining members would be Kendo and Yanagi, who do not fit the build.” 

“They could be wearing enough clothes to alter-”

Izuku fast-forwarded the video a little more, showing a clearer shot of Con Man on screen. The person loomed over Izuku on screen, rail-thin, almost spindly in appearance. Sure, the coat and suit helped hide some of those attributes, but both girls possessed pronounced enough chests that some indication of their gender compared to the male-to-androgynous like figure Con Man presented. Quickly informing the rest of the room with the same information, he didn’t miss the approving nod from the principal or the utterly exhausted look from Aizawa. 

“To be fair, I don’t know who it is. ” He told the room. Though he did have a pretty good guess. Considering the time of year this exercise took place and the knowledge of a person who so very badly wanted to prove themselves to gain entrance to the hero course. Still, it was only a guess for the moment, but he would be shocked if it wasn’t Shinso Hitoshi beneath that mask. 

Not that he would reveal that to the rest of the room. Keeping secrets was half of the fun when it came to this whole viewing thing  

“Of course you don’t,” muttered Aizawa, looking very much like he didn’t believe Izuku.

“Anyway, are we good to start the next section, listener?” asked Present Mic. The rest of the room agreed in some form or fashion, and Izuku tossed the remote back to the loud hero. 

Retaking his seat, he felt invigorated. Obtaining Momo and Jirou for his team was amazing. Mei, of course, would be a literal godsend for the plans he needed if they had half a chance of winning this. Not to mention the earlier high of watching a building explode on his command. If Izuku forgot about being the villain in all of this, he’d say this entire exercise was the most fun he’d ever had.