Chapter Text
Don’t tell anybody. If you do, you know what will happen.
All for One’s words rang through Izuku’s head as he looked up at U.A.. It was ironic, ending up here a villain after years of dreaming about being a hero. He didn’t want to be a hero anymore, of course. That fantasy had ended five years ago, when the reality of the world set in.
Hero hopefuls swarmed around him, heading through the door to the entrance exam.
Izuku snorted and took a step forward. Once upon a time, he’d been like them, cheerful and excited about life. What happened? He thought. Unbidden, his mother’s and sister’s faces flashed through his mind. No. Not right now. Focus.
A hand brushed against his wing, snapping him out of his thoughts. He drew the wing closer to his side, suppressing a shiver.
This was why he wore gloves over his talons. Their exact purpose was to avoid physical contact, but now, phantom hands were ghosting down his spine, luring him away from the world. Focus. Focus.
“Oh! I’m so sorry!” A brown-haired girl stopped in the middle of the crowd, looking back. His eyes skipped to her hands, which were covered by artist’s gloves. Five-point contact quirk. Likely not something destructive, if she doesn’t have the extra layers covering her index fingers.
He shook his head, trying not to slide into analysis mode. No doubt All for One would want an analysis of his future classmates. It would be better for everyone involved if he had as little information as possible.
Izuku gave her a nod, and followed her through the crowd towards one of the processing stations. A tired looking Vlad King sat behind it, checking off names with slashes of his pen. The fanboy inside Izuku squealed, before he squashed it down. If they knew what he’d done, what he was coming here to do, he’d be arrested on the spot.
“Name?”
He handed the man his student I.D. instead of responding. It was forged, of course, but All for One had used his contacts to back up the information. Izuku didn’t want to think about what had happened to the real Akatani. He suppressed a shudder.
He couldn’t use his actual identity, as Midoriya Izuku had gone missing seven years prior. A mask and black hair dye disguised his most recognizable features, letting him walk around like normal. You’re not normal.
“Exam Room Five.” Vlad King handed his I.D. back to him. Part of Izuku wished he had found something wrong with it, denied him entrance, so he could go back home and pretend this never happened. But that safe haven would only last for so long before All for One, or Tomura for that matter, tore inside and demanded answers. All he’d do was get himself or his sister punished.
He walked through a massive door into the school with a cloud of other examinees, passing under the watchful eyes of Ectoplasm’s clones. He knew the hero, he knew almost every hero, nevermind the fact he’d done research on U.A.’s staff.
A sign caught his eye. Exam Room Five. There it is. He slid through the crowd and ducked through the door, careful to avoid unwanted contact.
One of the last to arrive, Izuku took one of the seats in the front of the room. All the eyes on his back made his skin crawl, and he shifted his wings up, curling them around himself. They were more comfortable like that anyways, as the seat was clearly not designed for those with mutant quirks. No matter. It wasn’t like the chairs in the bar were either.
He sat like that until the exam proctor, Ectoplasm, or one of his clones, walked inside.
“You will find a booklet on your desk,” Ectoplasm said, taking a spot behind the desk in the front of the room. “Please fill out the information on the front page. The test is inclosed. If you cheat, you will be disqualified and removed from the premises. You have two and a half hours. Begin.”
Izuku flipped open the booklet, filling in the information about his cover that had been drilled into his brain. The multiple-choice part wasn’t too hard, letting him breeze through all 50 questions in half an hour. He’d studied hard for this, with the ‘help’ of Tomura. The short answer part took an hour, filled with difficult questions about history and math. He saved the last hour for the essays, knowing he would need it.
- What do you think about hero society today?
Oh, if only he could answer that honestly. Five years in a villain organization had given him a lot of knowledge about the dark side of the world. Instead, he filled it with the stereotypical answers any dutiful hero student would give. The other essay questions went the same way, and he finished answering the last question right before Ectoplasm announced the end of the testing period.
He dropped his test in the front, before filing into a large arena with the other students. Teenagers were crammed into every seat, laughing and talking and shouting. His ears twitched, struggling from the overload of noise.
He winced. He wished he’d brought headphones, or at least earplugs. He settled for burying his face in the scarf nestled around his throat, hoping it would distract him. The scarf was mainly for hiding the scar that ran across his neck, but in times like these, it brought him comfort.
A rumbling noise drew Izuku’s attention to the center of the arena, where Present Mic was rising out of the ground, perched on a platform with a microphone in his hand. It seemed redundant, with his quirk, but U.A. had enough money to do whatever the hell they wanted. “HOW ARE WE DOING, LISTENERS? CAN I GET A YEAH??”
All 3,000 teenagers packed into the arena stayed silent. Izuku winced from second-hand embarrassment.
Present Mic rolled with it, continuing his introduction of the exam.
Robots, huh? Thought Izuku. Dragonflame could deal with that. A fire quirk coupled with a dragon mutation quirk, it was versatile and allowed him to do a great many things, but it wasn’t as powerful as his other quirk. If he could use that, it would be a one-and-done deal. No use in lamenting what you can’t have.
He stood up with the rest of the crowd, filing out of the arena. He’d trained for this. He had to do this. He had to. Useless, useless, useless. The voice in his head disagreed.
He squashed it down. Focus. Focus.
*
“Who’s that kid in Exam Site B, Examinee Number 7189? He’s racking up on those rescue points.”
Aizawa cracked upon an eye, listening. He’d seen that kid too, but written him off as just another hero with a flashy quirk and bad attitude.
“Ah, Akatani Mikumo! He’s doing quite well, isn’t he? I think we may be looking at the high scorer for the exams this year. He’ll be in Eraserhead’s class, of course.” Nedzu grinned at him. Stupid rat, torturing him.
“I don’t want him.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t need another cocky powerhouse blowing up my classroom. I already have Todoroki and Yaoyorozu.”
“If he is as arrogant as you think, he’ll need the competition of your class to drag his ego down.”
“I already have two other kids with fire quirks, with the blond that is blowing up all those robots, I don’t need one more.”
“No,” Vlad snapped. “And that’s final. I’ll take Kaminari, and even Kirishima. I don’t want too many cocky powerhouses in my class, it impairs the shy kids.”
“Fine!” Aizawa growled back. He’d made it work. And if he couldn’t, he’d expel the kid. He’d done it before.
Issue resolved, he settled back into his chair, but his eyes kept drifting back to Akatani, who was taking down robot after robot with streams of green fire. He seemed to have some type of dragon quirk, with wings covered in iridescent scales, horns (or rather, a singular horn jutting out from the side of his head), and even a tail. Aizawa made a mental note to start filling out the paperwork for mutation-specific chairs. Shouji, who had made it into 1-A last testing session, was going to need one, as well as Akatani and possibly Asui as well.
The more he watched, the more Akatani’s subtle skills revealed themselves. His attacks were varied and creative, unlike the blond in Site A who was just blasting straight through the robots with shrieks of rage. Aizawa was starting to regret not trying to force the latter on Vlad instead of the former. He’d much rather have someone skilled and cocky then someone fueled by pure rage.
“ONE MORE MINUTE!” Mic shouted from outside, his voice carrying even through the Observation Room’s thick walls.
“Time to release the zero-pointer!” Nedzu slammed his paw on a button, sitting back and grinning as the monstrous robots were sent forth to terrorize children.
All the teachers watched intently. This was the time when the most action happened, even if it was just people running away.
Most students turned tail, including Tenya. Aizawa sighed as he watched his friend’s brother run. He’d thought he would be different.
“Watch Site B. Examinee 7763 is trapped under a piece of rubble.” Sure enough, a brown-haired girl sat trapped under a chunk of concrete, struggling to get out as the zero-pointer moved closer and closer.
Just when Nedzu moved to hit the emergency stop button, a blur of green moved in front of the massive zero-pointer.
Akatani reached down and lifted the rubble restraining 7763, muscles straining. Maybe that dragon quirk came with a strength enhancer? There was no way that slab of concrete was less than 400 kilograms. He awkwardly set it on his shoulder, and scooping her out from underneath it, he kicked the concrete away and took flight, carrying her in his arms.
So he could fly. That was a waste of potential right there, if Aizawa had ever seen one. Most of his attacks in the exam had come from his fire, if not from his tail. He’d have to get him up to shape in training.
“TIME’S UP! IF YOU NEED MEDICAL ATTENTION, RECOVERY GIRL WILL BE AROUND SHORTLY! IF YOU DON’T, YOU’LL GET YOUR RESULTS IN THE MAIL IN A FEW WEEKS! GOODBYE!”
Akatani, upon hearing this announcement, dropped to the ground, making sure the girl didn’t get jarred in the process.
“Cocky powerhouse, eh?” Nedzu grinned at him. “Still don’t want him?”
Aizawa nodded his head, but kept on observing as the boy helped the girl to Recovery Girl. He’d be one to watch.
*
Izuku’s skin was crawling, even an hour after he’d touched the girl. Uraraka, he’d learned her name was. She’d forced her phone number upon him, and he’d had no way to refuse. Turns out, the average citizen does not know sign language.
Whatever. It was better for her not to grow close to him. It wasn’t like he even had a phone. All for One had seen no reason to give him one, and he’d never had any friends to talk to. There was no one in his life he truly trusted, beyond his sister.
He shivered, rubbing his hands down his sides, and turned off the sidewalk. He’d received no order to go back to the bar, so he’d decided to go home.
Dagobah Beach was as close to a trash dump as a beach could get, but for him, it was a shelter, somewhere he and his sister could stay without fear of discovery, by the heroes or yakuza. It had been years since his sister had been rescued, but Overhaul was still out there.
The main boss had been arrested, by some hero or another, but the yakuza had built back up from that, collecting assets and supplies. For what, he didn’t know.
He took a deep breath, collecting himself, and slid aside a sheet of metal from a towering pile of trash, revealing a small hole. He squeezed through, his wings scraping on the metal surrounding him, and popped out in a small cavern.
It had been sheer dumb luck that had led him to find this RV buried beneath the trash, but in his time on the streets, he had learned that sometimes dumb luck was the only thing that kept you alive.
“Izu!” Eri ran up to him, arms reached out for a hug. If it was anyone else, he would have refused, but for her, he could tolerate the crawling skin that came with contact. The matching horns on their heads spoke of their closeness better than anything could. They were siblings, and siblings protected each other.
He swept her up and curled his wings around her, drawing her into a tight embrace.
“He’s here,” she whispered in his ear before he could drop her.
Izuku tensed up, pulling her closer, and patted her on the back. It’ll be okay, he wanted to say. Yeah, like that was true. They were never going to be okay, not until they were free from All for One’s grasp. He had considered running away when he was younger, but the ‘training sessions’ that came whenever he did anything bad were enough to squash that pipe dream. There was nothing like a one-sided beatdown to turn your mind around.
“Izuku. All for One wants to see you.” Kurogiri peered out from behind the doorframe that led to the kitchen, his blank expression giving Izuku no hints to what was to happen.
A portal opened behind him. The sight of it made the scar on Izuku’s arm ache, the reminder of what had happened last time he’d gotten a little too close to escaping. That had been years ago, but the memory still lingered, as distinct as the beatdown he’d received afterwards. Kurogiri was more dangerous than he seemed, and a player Izuku was not willing to test.
“Put down Eri.”
Izuku dropped her and stepped into the portal, squeezing his eyes against the nauseous sensation that came with passing through it. His foot made contact with a hard wood floor, and he opened his eyes again.
The bar looked the same as ever, with Kurogiri’s intricate glasses lining the walls in neat rows, and Tomura in his usual spot, Nintendo clutched in his hands. No Nomu, either. Good. He didn’t have the energy to fight one of them right now.
“Izuku.” Tomura looked up. “Did you see All Might?”
One track mind.
“No,” he signed. If there was one thing he was glad All for One had taught him, it was sign language. He didn’t know where he’d be without it, after the damage to his throat. That was what the scarf pulled snuggly around his neck was for, among other things.
Tomura snorted and looked away. “NPC,” he heard the boy mutter.
“Now, Tomura, don’t be rude to your cousin.” The voice Izuku wanted to hear the least drawled. Cousin. The word stuck in his mind. Tomura and him had a weird relationship. Izuku was the reason he was here in the first place, with his family connection to All for One. When All for One had taken Tomura years ago, he’d kept tabs on Izuku until he’d manifested a quirk, then made him disappear as well.
The two often fought each other in training sessions, and that made him hard to trust, seeing how he’d turn on Izuku in a blink of an eye. All for One had managed to brainwash him thoroughly. Times like these, Izuku was glad he had been a late bloomer.
He didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if he’d been taken earlier.
He dug his sharp-tipped fingers into his hand, staving off the panic. He’d done his job well. Nothing was going to happen, even if All for One had developed a mind reading quirk. Izuku had no plans to betray the villain as long as Eri was in the picture, and All for One knew that.
“How did it go, Izuku?”
Izuku turned to Kurogiri to translate, knowing All for One couldn’t see his hands through the speaker. “I did it. Got into U.A.. I’m sure I passed the exam, and none of the heroes thought I was special.”
“Good. Find any interesting quirks?” The villain asked once Kurogiri finished translating.
Uraraka’s face flashed through his mind. A floating quirk. Useful. So incredibly useful.
“No,” he lied. Thank god for mind reading quirks being so rare.
“Ah. I’m sure you’ll find some to your liking at U.A..” The unspoken threat hung in the air.
He nodded, throat going dry. Having one of his classmate’s quirks would only make the sting of betrayal worse, but so be it. Anything to keep Eri safe. And to keep him from becoming useless. Anything but useless.
“You can go now. Expect a training session in your future.” With that, the speaker clicked off, and before Izuku had time to be worried, a portal opened up beneath his feet, and he dropped back into the RV.
“Izu! Are you okay?”
He stared at the spot in the ceiling where the portal had closed up. “Yeah,” he signed. “I’m fine.” Nothing further from the truth.