1: I'll Just Bet On Myself!

As much as he tried, Izuku couldn't stop the deep heaving of his chest. It was part of the reason he'd roared so uncharacteristically; to release the sheer physical tension, as well as because it might've taken ten months, but he'd cleaned up this whole beach all on his own. He looked down on it from the top of his landfill—his landfill, built with his own bare hands—half-dazed and half-convinced he was dreaming.

The view looked like something out of a movie, clouds and sky tinted bright orange in sunrise. Sand stretched from left to right in pure, snowy piles, and a polished pier reached into a glittering yellow sea.

The half-daze suddenly turned into a full-daze, and Izuku found himself falling off the truck he'd stood on, heading face-first to the ground.

But strong arms caught him. Izuku, sweaty and trembling with tired excitement, looked up at All Might, meeting the hero's pristine smile with a woozy one of his own.

"All… Might!" he said, gasping between words, "I did it… I did it!"

Setting the boy down, All Might took his phone out of his pocket, voice booming over the sound of crashing waves nearby. "And you did an astonishing job of it too! Especially for a teenager!" He held up his phone, showing Izuku the screen. "Here, have a look at this!"

Izuku could hardly bring his head up to see. "What…"

He saw himself, crying in some nervous panic as was usual. Though there was something rather strange about it…

"This was you ten months ago!" All Might said.

Upon further examination, Izuku realized the man was right. His face hadn't changed much, perhaps gotten sharper on the jaw, but he saw how thin his arms were, and his neck looked brittle enough to snap with a finger. Looking down at himself now, Izuku almost expected to see the same, but realized all at once that the only reason the picture seemed so strange was because it directly contrasted against what he'd been seeing every morning in the mirror. A body as toned as any he'd seen in the movies, with arms any normal person would have trouble wrapping their hands around and full, six-pack abs. He blushed at the sight of himself shirtless, having forgotten in his sweaty hurry to finish cleaning the beach that he was still out in public.

But along with that embarrassment came no small amount of pride. It was an unfamiliar feeling. The only brief moments of pride he'd felt before came almost exclusively along with running out of pages in a notebook.

All Might shot him a thumbs up. "You did great, kid!" he said. Then, spreading his arms, he threw his head up high in rather dramatic fashion. "We've only just reached the faintest mirage of the path that lies ahead… But you're a bona fide vessel now!"

Izuku looked at his hand, all of a sudden feeling the strength in it. He could feel himself tearing up, months of exhaustion culminating in a flood of tears pouring out his eyes. "I feel like… I've cheated somehow…" Sniffing, he bowed his head. "You went so far for me, All Might… I feel too blessed!"

After a moment, the tall hero slapped Izuku on the back. "Quit being such a crybaby! Now it's time for your reward, Midoriya Izuku!""

Wiping his eyes, Izuku nodded. "Yes sir!"

"They say there's a difference between something you were born with out of pure luck and something you won after busting your ass for it!" All Might reached for something behind his back. "Puff out your chest and be proud… this is the power you earned fair and square, kid! Now…" he pulled out a red t-shirt "put this on! A limited edition All Might American Treasure, boy's small!"

Izuku stared at the thing. It was, he knew, factually a limited edition All Might American Treasure shirt. All red, the letters A and M centered a blocky blue font, little white stars forming a circle around them. He didn't yet have it in his collection, rare as it was to find even on the internet.

Still…

"… Come again?"

"I'll also give you a ride to the school for your entrance exam!" All Might tossed the shirt over to him, and Izuku caught it in a dazed silence. He then grabbed the boy by the arm and started walking to "But first, a hearty breakfast on the way! On me, of course."

"Wait… this isn't really what I had in mind…"

"You'll of course want a protein shake to repair those muscles before the exam starts!"

"All Might!" Izuku pulled his arm back, and although the hero hadn't been gripping him with any real force it still took all his strength "Hold on a second!"

All Might stopped and turned to face him, eyebrow raised. Izuku had to catch his breath, and even then he needed a second to build up the nerve to speak.

"I thought… You said you'd give me your power! The sum convergence of the peak strength of countless men? What happened to all that?"

"Ah, right!" All Might calmly put a hand on Izuku's shoulder. He patted it, the other coming up in a thumbs up. "You can do it!" He then turned around toward the road again. "Alright, let's not be late now!"

"That's all?! Wait a minute!" Izuku followed, nearly tripping, clutching the shirt close to his chest. "What about One for All? Was that all just a lie?"

"I don't lie!" All Might bellowed, hands on his hips. Then, lower, "but maybe I did exaggerate a bit…"

"Hold on…" Izuku felt that old terror rising up within him, shaking his knees and chattering his teeth. "Are you telling me I'll have to take that exam… without a quirk?!"

All Might once again twirled around, this time in a quick burst of speed, getting right up in Izuku's face so suddenly that the boy stumbled back and fell right down. "That's right!"

Izuku could feel himself crying again, this time not of joy but of fear and, most of all, a pain of the heart. He remembered All Might's inspiring words all those months before, all the times the man drove him to his limit and beyond. "You said you chose me as your successor but… How can I live up to that without a quirk? How can I be a hero at all?" Eyes closing in frustration, he covered his face with the shirt, smearing his tears all over it, too ashamed to be seen. "Weren't you the one who said that it's not an occupation people without quirks are cut out for? So how could you tell me that I 'can be a hero'?"

The man looked down, smiling despite the crying boy on the floor. He kneeled close. "I didn't lie about that, at least," he said. "My goal was to motivate you, kid, even if it meant stretching the truth a bit. Being a professional hero is the most dangerous thing there is. It's the most responsibility anyone can have. For someone without a quirk, the chances of being one are extremely small. No one's ever done it, after all. But!" He held out a fist, shaking it in controlled excitement. "It's not impossible! U.A. used to not accept quirkless students, but that's not the case anymore! If you graduate from there, no one can say you're not a hero!"

When Izuku didn't respond, gasping for breath as he was between sobs, All Might sighed, and in a puff he'd returned to his thin, true self. Clothes baggy as ever, his distinct spiked hair slack and framing his face, Toshinori Yagi looked at Izuku with darkened, yet impassioned eyes. "You remember what I told you that day? Of all the people at the scene only you made the difference. Cowardly and quirkless, you were the one who shined more than any of the so-called heroes!" He grabbed Izuku's shoulder again. "One man cultivates the power, and that man grants it to another! Again and again it's passed down, and in doing so, brave hearts with unwavering calls to save lives can burnish this might! My quirk has nothing to do with it! That's the true One for All! A hero with the power to inspire others to be heroes themselves! When I saw you rush at that villain, I thought, 'this kid is a hero already!'"

Izuku kept sniffing, though he'd quieted some, listening to Yagi's words. The man's hand uncurled, and he held it out to the boy. "I believe you have it in you to be my successor as the Symbol of Peace! It'll take everything you have and more, but I believe you can do it! I'm betting on you kid! Question is, can you bet on yourself?"

After a few more tears, Izuku looked up. He saw Yagi's smile, as confident as ever despite the man's weakened and rather pathetic state. Breathing deeply and with only slight hesitation, he took the hand.

In another rush, Yagi puffed up to All Might again and pulled Izuku up to his feet. "Alright!" Once again, the hero began dragging Izuku to the road, this time with little resistance. "This was just the starting line, kid! Every hero should be in top physical shape! Now onto the next stage of your story! Plus Ultra!"

Izuku let the man lead him out of the beach, readjusting himself, both disappointed and strangely inspired. Though he'd have no power after all, Izuku found he wasn't as hurt by the revelation as he might've thought. It was something about himself he'd long ago accepted, and though the last ten months had given him some amount of hope, a part of him had always suspected it was too good to be true.

But more than that, All Might was right. Quirk or not, Izuku wouldn't give up, not now that someone else had finally told him 'you can be a hero.' He carried that belief with him, like a torch in his heart, alive and fueled by those words. He carried it with him all through breakfast, all through his shower at home, and all through his trip to U.A.

As Izuku walked through U.A.'s front gates, he tried to ignore the majesty around him, the paved and spotless brick path, the polished steel statues of great hero graduates flanking both sides, the sheer scale of the place—the exam center alone seemed to necessitate a whole two glass buildings—Izuku tried to ignore all of that. Instead, he gripped hard onto his backpack and focused on what All Might had told him just an hour before, right before parting ways.

You'll be overwhelmed, the man had said. Everyone's quirks will be amazing, and you'll think there's nothing you can do to match them. And you'll be right! Without the weapon of a quirk that everyone else has, you won't be able to do things the way they do. So you'll have to find your own way, kid. If you want to make it through this, you need to play to your strengths! Don't worry about everyone else!

Izuku repeated these words over and over in his mind, trying to find some confidence in them. Play to my strengths… he thought, head down. What strengths do I even have?

"Fuck off, Deku!"

Startled out of his reverie, Izuku leapt out of the way as Bakugou Katsuki strode furiously behind. The other boy hadn't bothered him ever since the villain incident ten months before, paying him no mind in class, only ever glancing his way for the stray insult before walking off. Izuku had imagined their meeting here, right at U.A.'s gate. He imagined that his old childhood friend might be surprised at his presence, perhaps even impressed at the new straightness of his back and broadness of his shoulders. Anything to signal that he no longer thought of him as the weak, pathetic, quirkless nerd he'd always been.

"H-Hey there Kacchan!" he said, hating the stutter in his voice. "Let's both do our—"

Katsuki didn't so much as look his way, marching past him with a laser-focus Izuku had only seen during gym class, particularly in solo tests of speed and endurance, like a 100-meter dash.

"… best," Izuku finished in a whisper. He to a moment to look around him, hoping no one had seen that.

"Wow, he totally blew you off!"

Izuku turned, head rotating robotically, to see possibly the cutest girl he'd ever seen walking right up to him. Bobbed, brown hair framed her soft face, and her smile shot his heart down mid-beat, stopping it for a good three seconds, constricting his veins and nearly causing him to fall unconscious. Luckily, his body wasn't ready to die just yet, and Izuku felt the breath return to his lungs by the time she spoke again, an eyebrow raised, her smile turned down in mild worry.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"YES!" Izuku seized up at her proximity. Figuring he'd embarrassed himself enough, he turned on his heel and tried to march off. "ANYWAY, GOOD LUCK ON—"

He tripped. His scream caught in his throat. He closed his eyes as the spotless brick path neared his face.

Nothing happened. Izuku opened his eyes to see that the spotless brick path was actually farther away than when he'd been walking on it. He looked around some more and found that he was actually flying now.

"Woah!" He spun his arms, trying to balance himself on nothing but air.

The girl reached over to set his feet down, facing the floor, then clapped her hands. Immediately, Izuku fell and was on solid ground once more, much to his relief. He looked over at her eyes wide.

"Sorry about using my quirk on you," she said, smiling once again. It exuded enough warmth to heat his whole face. "I figured you'd rather not trip right before the test!"

"Th-Thanks! I mean… Wow!" Izuku looked down at her hands in wonder. He gulped, opened his mouth closed it. I'm… talking to a girl! he thought, then shook his head, mostly to cool the heat crawling up his neck. "I… your quirk is really cool! If you d-don't mind, what is it?"

"Oh…" the girl looked unsure, glancing sideways.

Seeing this, Izuku jolted forward, hands waving rapidly. "I mean! You don't have to tell me! Nevermind! It's kinda weird to ask right before the exam, huh?! Sorry!"

"No, it's okay…" the girl looked down, her smile returning, though far less bubby. "It's called 'Zero Gravity.' It lets me make things float by touching them with my finger pads. See?" Looking down, she showed him her hands, and Izuku noted with awe the discolored spots, perfectly circular, which she carried on the tips of her fingers. "All I have to do to cancel it is touch them together. If I hold it for too long, or if it's too heavy, it makes me nauseous. Not very cute, huh?"

When she looked up at him, the girl flinched back at how close his face had gotten. His eyes still pointed right at her hands, and his own were drawn into trembling fists raised in excitement. "That's awesome!" he said. "Your quirk is perfect for capturing villains! Most couldn't do anything if they're floating in the air! Plus, cleaning up after battles would be a cinch!" He leaned back, face pointed at the sky, shoulders slumped. "Gah… I'm so jealous!"

The girl watched him deflate in front of her, blinking. Her smile returned, as wide as ever. "I guess it is pretty awesome, huh?" she said, breaking out into giggles. "By the way, my name is Uraraka Ochako! Nice to meet you!"

Izuku looked at her. Seeing her smile, he once again felt his cheeks burn, and they burned harder when he recognized the show he'd performed just before. I'm talking to a girl… and just totally nerded out right in front of her! He had to stop himself from groaning.

"Uh… I'm Midoriya Izuku," he mumbled. "Sorry, I get… a bit too intense when talking about quirks."

"It's alright!" Ochako threw him a peace sign. "I actually never really thought about all that stuff, so I appreciate the compliment!" She tilted her head, hair swaying in a way Izuku had to stop himself from looking at in fear of further incapacitation. "What about you, Midoriya-kun? What's your quirk?"

"Oh, well… um…"

Just then, a rather stern-looking young man shouted at them from the door to the auditorium. His glasses glinted in the morning sun, but both Izuku and Ochako could feel the strictness in his eyes as he pointed at them with karate-chop hands.

"You two, get in already! It's irresponsible to fail a school entrance exam just because you're too busy chatting!"

Izuku froze, but Ochako merely laughed, a light blush on her cheeks.

"I guess we better get going!" she said.

"YES!"

Ochako raised a fist. "Let's both pass the exam, okay?"

"YES!"

She jogged over to the auditorium, all the while Izuku stayed paralyzed just outside. Eventually, he realized he was the only one outside, and in a fit of nervous panic dashed in. All the while, he kept thinking I need to figure out my strengths! I need to figure out my strengths! I need to…

… figure out my strengths! I need to figure out my strengths! I need to figure out my strengths! I need to figure out my strengths! I need to figure out my strengths! I need to figure out my strengths! I need to figure out my—

"SHUT THE HELL UP, NERD!"

At that, the whole auditorium quieted, turning to Katsuki, who had stood up and pounded on the table in sudden rage, then, to Izuku, who now covered his head and face and wished above anything else that he wouldn't be sitting next to his old classmate. Of course, their seats had been assigned, and of course it made sense to have them alongside each other since they went to the same school, but even as Izuku knew the logic he still couldn't help feeling betrayed by the school system, the world, and perhaps even logic itself.

It was even worse when the same glasses guy from before stood from his own seat and pointed over at them, his sharp voice echoing over the large room.

"Though I disavow that ruffian's language, I completely agree with his intent!" he said. "That curly-haired kid has been muttering rather loudly to himself ever since this lecture began! It's completely disrespectful both to Present Mic and us fellow applicants!"

Present Mic, the pro hero assigned to instruct them on the practical exam rules, leaned heavily against the podium at the front of the room.

"Okay, okaaaay!" he said, voice booming even without a microphone. Or, rather, his voice was the microphone. "Much appreciated, my precious examinees! Anyway like I was saying…"

Katsuki sat back down, face forward and bored. Izuku straightened some, though he kept his head bowed face still burning. Though Present Mic's voice droned on, he couldn't find it in himself to listen too attentively; the thought kept running through his head, the worry building by the second, knowing that soon enough he'd be fighting robots all by himself, without an idea of how to do it.

His eyes roamed over the handout they'd all been given on their way in. It explained some of the rules, and more prominently it described the four "villain" types they'd be fighting during the exam.

1-pointer: fast but brittle.

2-pointer: maneuverable but predictable.

3-pointer: slow but durable.

0-pointer: Big and tough and not worth fighting.

What the heck did "maneuverable but predictable" even mean? Did the 1-pointer have a gun? The 3-pointers looked like straight up tanks!

Izuku felt himself trembling again, staring at the pictures, cycling between utter terror and unreality. It felt like some sort of video game, except it was real. Present Mic said the teachers wouldn't let anyone die or get seriously injured by how could they really guarantee that?

He looked around, eyes subtly scanning the others. Didn't they see this? Why was he the only one freaking out? Actually, what was he thinking, of course he was the only one freaking out! He was the only one without a quirk! They all probably saw these robots as squishy papier mache statues instead of deadly machines! Kacchan wouldn't have a problem blowing all these things away, and even Uraraka-san could easily break them by dropping them from high up! Oh man, he was screwed! He was definitely, definitely—

You'll be overwhelmed…

Izuku's mind quieted, All Might's voice sounding out over his internal monologue in a way nothing ever had before.

Everyone's quirks will be amazing, and you'll think there's nothing you can do to match them… If you want to make it through this, you need to play to your strengths! Don't worry about everyone else!

Right… It was always going to be hard. Being a hero was probably the hardest thing he could've chosen to do considering his circumstances, but he'd chosen it anyway. If All Might thought he could do it, why shouldn't he think the same?

But man, what are my strengths?

Nothing. He couldn't think of a single thing. Trying not to panic again, Izuku decided he might as well start somewhere. Maybe there's some clue in the handout? He examined it again, knowing all the information already but reading through it if only to calm himself. A couple lines in, something stood out.

We only have to incapacitate them, he thought. At least I don't have to try and destroy them, but how am I gonna do any damage at all? My bare hands probably won't do much…

He looked down at the pictures again. The 2-pointer looked like some kind of scorpion, three-legged and with a single stinger, though from the looks of it the tail served as more a blunt weapon than something to stab them with. At least there's no stabbing involved…

But wait, didn't that explain the description? As the only robot with any legs at all, it could easily step over obstacles, maybe even climb up buildings if it jumped high enough. There was the maneuverability, but since it only had three legs, it couldn't really use any of them to attack without losing stability, which left the tail as its one source of blunt damage. And since it only has the one tail, whatever attacks it has would be easy to see coming. Well, at least easier than the rest.

The 3-pointer was definitely the most dangerous, save for the 0-pointer, but Izuku didn't bother looking too into that one. There's no real way to fight it even if there was a reason to. With two arms and two missile-launcher things on its back, the 3-pointer might not be worth fighting either. But the closer he looked, the more it seemed like the arms served less to attack and more to plant the whole thing on the ground to counter any recoil from the guns. And those wheels…

Wheels! The 1-pointer sported a single one, almost like a unicycle. That explained the speed, as along with its small size there wasn't much to weigh it down. Are they like car tires? How hard are they to pop? Hard enough to drive over debris, at least. It had its gun, but according to the handout they only shot rubber bullets. Hard enough to hurt but not enough to kill, something Izuku was thankful for. I wonder if it would have any effect on other robots…

Actually, would the 3-pointer guns have any effect on the others? Its guns were much bigger, designed completely different, though the handout said it still shot rubber bullets. The chamber's way bigger than the 1-pointer's though, Izuku thought. If it carries enough mass, then maybe…

U.A had an acceptance rate of .2, or 20 percent of the ones with a good enough written exam score. It also had 11 classes of 20 students per year, which meant that only the top 220 applicants there would pass, unless he considered the ones let in through recommendation, which might knock that number down to 210 or 205 in the worst case. Either way, 220 students per year with an acceptance rate of 20 percent meant there must be something like 1100 applicants at the moment, a number which Izuku figured made sense when looking around the auditorium.

There were only two classes which made up the hero course, so if he wanted to get into one of those, he'd need to place in the top 40. They had only 10 minutes to rack up points, and the faux-villains were limited in number. Taking all that into account, Izuku guessed that, if he wanted to be safe, he'd need to score at least 40 points, maybe a little less. The rules made it impossible to expect anything more as the median for hero-course examinees.

In 10 minutes, that meant 40 1-pointers, 20 2-pointers, or around 13 3-pointers. Defeating a 3-pointer would likely be impossible for him, though it's presence might still prove useful—"

"DAMN IT, DEKU, I SAID TO SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!"

Izuku slumped forward again, hiding his face. But this time, he felt himself smile, nervously but truly. An idea began forming in his head. Multiple, actually. Enough to craft the beginnings of a plan.

The replica site was truly enormous, almost a whole city onto itself. The other applicants all seemed awed by it chattering on about U.A.'s massive budget, and Izuku would've joined them in that awe if he weren't too busy fighting against his own nerves. Thankfully, he had enough on his mind already.

Step one will be the hardest part, he thought. If I can just find someone destructive enough…

He looked around at the others. Most didn't give away much about their quirks; made sense, as emitter-types were by far the most common. He could see some mutant-types here and there—a boy with a bird head, another with six muscular arms—but it didn't seem they'd be capable of blasting robots to pieces so much as crushing them into one big ball. The dude with glasses seemed to be a mutant-type if the mufflers on his legs were anything to go by, probably some kind of speed quirk.

Come on, where's Kacchan when you need him? Izuku's old classmate would be perfect for the job, but unfortunately it seemed U.A. had split applicants who knew each other into different groups, likely to ensure they wouldn't work together. Not that Kacchan would want to help me anyway…

He saw Ochako nearby, her eyes closed, her breathing steady. She was probably calming her nerves. While Izuku did think her quirk was extremely cool, it wasn't exactly what he was looking for at the moment.

Finally, Izuku noticed a blond boy with a strange belt. Nothing about him seemed out of the ordinary, save for the swoosh of his hair and the poof of his shirt. A burgeoning fashionista, perhaps? Either way, that belt definitely looked like some form of equipment. Not a utility belt—there were no pockets he could see. The boy didn't seem all that physically tough either, so it couldn't be some kind of strength balancer either, right? Some kind of amplifier? It did look a little like a telescope lens. No, the only reason he'd even be allowed to bring a piece of hero equipment to an entrance exam like this was if his quirk couldn't work without it. Izuku started walking over to ask.

A hand grabbed him by the shoulder. His nerves already sharp, Izuku couldn't help the immediate tensing up of his body. Turning, he saw it was the glasses boy looking as stern as ever.

"Who exactly are you, my friend?" the boy asked, sounding less like a friend and more like a strict teacher. "You didn't come to obstruct your fellow test-takers, did you?"

"W-Who, me?" Nervous as he was, Izuku knew he didn't have much time. "No! Of course, I'm only here to take the exam like everyone else! Anyway…" He made to walk off toward the blond kid, but glasses stopped him again.

"Ah, now I remember!," glasses guy said. "You're that curly-haired boy from the information session! Up to your distracting tricks again, are you?"

"Um…"

"Pardon moi!"

Izuku and glasses both turned to the new voice, finding the very same blond kid Izuku was had tried to talk to. At once, glasses let Izuku go, straightening to attention and then bowing deeply.

"I, Ida Tenya, humbly apologize for this boy's attempt to distract you in this crucial moment!" he said. "Please feel free to continue your preparations!"

Izuku knew he should be offended by all this to some extent, but he couldn't quite get past the pose which the blond kid had chosen to present himself in. He stood with legs crossed, one arm arching his head back by the hair like some sort of model, a smile so consistent and teeth so white they seemed nearly plastic.

"It's no use, I can't blame those caught up in my twinkle!" the blond kid said. "Aoyama Yuga, at your service!"

His belt in particular seemed to glint, and Izuku noticed that it's central orb—almost like a buckle—actually did shine more brightly than before, almost as if there were some kind of light set to break through. Izuku opened his mouth, a question ready.

"AAAAAND START!"

Izuku blinked. The chatter around him went quiet, then picked up again in quiet murmuring. Turning to the gate leading toward the replica site, Izuku saw that it was now open. Others seemed to be noticing too.

Present Mic's voice returned, echoing over them from an indeterminate distance. Everyone looked at the direction form which it came, finding a small dot standing atop the building they'd bussed from.

"What's the matter?! There's no such thing as a countdown in a real battle! Run! RUUUN!"

Izuku caught a few already on their way toward the replica site from his periphery. His own feet stayed planted.

"CONSIDER THE BATON PASSED!"

Shit!

Izuku turned and ran, already behind most of the others. He looked at the crowd, eyes zeroing in on individual applicants, trying and failing to find what he was looking for. Step one is the hardest part. I need… I need…

Yuga's quirk was an emitter-type. Izuku couldn't know this, but that was his intuition. There was too much evidence for it. No mutations, a piece of hero-equipment, and if that light he'd seen meant anything, it was likely a projectile. Exactly what he was looking for. He couldn't be sure, but he could guess. Question is, was it worth acting on that guess? He only had 10 minutes. If he got this wrong, it would be a big setback.

Could he trust himself here?

Izuku's glared ahead, gritting his teeth. I have no choice. Logically, he's got as much a chance of being what I need as anyone else, and I already have some clues. I might as well pick him. Better than wasting any more time!

They all rain into the replica city, and soon spread out across the various alleys, some climbing onto walls, others jumping over buildings. Izuku stayed on the main road, eyes scanning each of them. If Aoyama's quirk is an emitter-type, he'll have to run just like me! He's gotta be around here somewhere…

A few seconds later, Izuku caught him. He could see the blond hair rushing in between a couple buildings, and immediately dashed over after it. He could hear crashing and explosions already kicking off, echoing across the cityscape, and could only make himself ignore it. Right now, he needed to complete step one.

Turning the corner, Izuku saw him. Luckily, Yuga was already engaging with a villain bot, a 1-pointer. To both his astonishment and infinite thrill, Izuku saw the blonde boy fire a laser straight out of the belt, all while posing in the very same way as before. The shiny blue beam shot straight through the robot, ripping it nearly in half. The bot fell in a heap of scraps, and Yuga soon ran off, though not after posing for a bit more.

"Nice teamwork!" Izuku whispered to himself, running to the downed bot.

He examined it, finding the thing bigger than he'd expected judging from the handout picture but thankfully not by much. There was no oil on the ground, and Izuku could see a few of the wires sparking up, at least the ones not melted into each other. Even now he could see red where Aoyama's laser had cut, steam drifting up to the air. The green-coated alloy it was made of looked rough, and the boy figured U.A. had been using the same bots for these exams for some years now. Perhaps the support course fixed all the ones who finished without much damage?

He shook his head. Not the time.

Kneeling down, Izuku grabbed one of the metal pieces that had fallen out. It was narrow, about the size of his forearm, and he could safely wrap his hand around it without getting cut. The tip wasn't as pointy as he'd have wanted, but it would have to do.

Step one, complete!

Izuku felt himself smile from end to end. It hadn't even been a minute yet! He'd chosen well!

Now for step two…

Izuku perked up at the sounds of fighting around him. The nerves came back, but they only served to tighten his grip on the scrap rod in his hand. His plan was working so far. He could do this, right?

He ran to those sounds. Every once in a while, he'd see one of the applicants running too, likely between fights. He saw another boy, blond but not Yuga, jumping onto bots and shocking them with a burst of electricity. Some distance away, he even thought he saw a few robots floating up and then falling back down. He could even hear the thumps of their metal forms crashing into the ground. Uraraka-san? How many points did she have by now?

Shaking his head, Izuku faced forward, trying to pay them no mind. He needed to focus.

As he ran, Izuku noticed a glint out the corner of his eye. A 2-pointer stepping out of an alley. At seeing it, Izuku slid to a stop, watching as the bot drew closer, its three legs hitting the ground with sharp clinks.

This was it. His first villain. His grip on the scrap rod was ow so tight it hurt. Izuku found himself shaking. The bot came closer, looming over him now, its tail drawing back. He had to move!

But his legs wouldn't listen to him. As much as he tried, he couldn't. The thing was gigantic, at least three times as tall as him. The tail wasn't sharp, but it would cause some good blunt damage. He couldn't do this. He was just too damned used to cowering!

I'm betting on you, kid!

All Might's voice shot through his own thoughts once more. He remembered all those months, all the pain, all the stressful nights he spent staring up at his ceiling, doubting himself over and over. And yet, he'd done it. He'd cleaned that beach all by himself, hadn't he?

If All Might can bet on me, he thought, eyes narrowing, then the least I can do is bet on myself!

The tail shot forward, like a scorpion's stab. Izuku saw it coming, faster than he'd expected, but he'd seen it coming. It was like a boxer's haymaker—the most predictable move of all. As it neared, Izuku sidestepped out of the way, then dashed closer, tears pouring out his eyes all the while, nearly blinding him.

I can do it I can do it I can do it

He kept repeating it in his head even as the robot's neck twisted down to follow him. By then Izuku had reached one of its legs, clambering atop it with all the grace of a toddler. But the uncomfortable angles reminded him of the junkyard, all those times he had to climb over fridges or cabinets just to reach a lighter load. With a deep breath, he hopped onto the robot's back.

It's the most maneuverable one, he thought, but it's also the only one with legs! It has three, and it needs all of them planted to the ground to stay up! It can't easily shake me off! Maneuverable, but the most predictable!

Already the bot was freaking out, its A.I. likely running through a variety of possible responses. It chose the only one it could, drawing its tail back again, and by then Izuku was clambering up its tall neck, finding its structured plates easy enough to grab a hold of. The tail shot forward, but then the robot stopped just short of hitting itself, and Izuku had to stop from pumping a victorious fist.

His whole plan was dependent on three core assumptions:

The first was that the villain bots were programmed not to hurt each other or themselves. Otherwise points would be more difficult to place for the teachers. Say a 3-pointer shoots a 1-pointer while aiming at an applicant stuck in between them, what then? Say someone figured out they could climb onto a 2-pointer and have it hit itself with its own tail? It would be a broken strategy, and anyone could go on to climb onto 2-pointers and earn points without needing to show any real skill. The simple solution to this problem was to make these glitches in the game impossible.

The second assumption was that the villain bots wouldn't be programmed to prioritize their own safety, or at least that they would be prioritized to attack the applicants over their own safety. Otherwise the applicants wouldn't have a real opportunity to earn points, or not enough of them would to fill the school's 11 classes every year. The 1-pointers were too fast; were they programmed to protect themselves, they would merely run away the whole time, perhaps taking potshots but staying at a safe distance. Same went for the 3-pointers, and although they wouldn't be as successful at running away as the 1-pointers, they were the most durable and themselves had projectile weapons with which to camp form a distance. It wouldn't be impossible to bring them down, but it would be more difficult, and when taking the time limit into account their disposition to playing defense would in turn incentivize applicants to seek easier prey.

That left the 2-pointers, who were the most maneuverable but weren't particularly fast or sturdy, and worst of all had no projectile weapons. For the 2-pointers, running away and camping wasn't an option, which made for easy pickings in a situation where the other two types of targets made themselves hard to catch. The 2-pointers would get hunted to extinction, leaving only the other two types, so that those who got their points in early would be at a distinct advantage over everyone else. Another strategy the teachers likely wanted to avoid, as the point of the exam was to have them all showcase their abilities to their fullest extent.

The third assumption itself depended on a deeper truth: that humans had a startling propensity for personification. Though these villain bots were entirely invented, it wasn't a stretch to think that the people making them wouldn't feel inclined to place whatever ran their programing in the most vulnerable spot they could think of when using themselves as a reference. Made sense as far as the exam went too; why wouldn't applicants be encouraged to target the spots most vulnerable in the very villains they hoped to one day fight against? And what was the most vulnerable and valuable place for any living creature they would have to face? The head, of course.

All of these were mere assumptions, but Izuku had thought them over again and again, from the auditorium to the bus to the gate at the replica city. Those around him had looked strangely at him, and at times he stopped planning, having realized that in his deep thought he'd begun muttering to himself as was his habit. But now, he didn't regret any of that time spent, nor did he feel any shame or embarrassment for his weirdness.

Izuku reached the villain bot's head. Taking a second to catch his breath, and to reflect on the insanity of his own accomplishment, he breathed in and looked around. The others were fighting themselves, some punching the robots to pieces, others ripping them apart with their bare hands. He saw a small boy throwing some grape-looking balls at another 2-pointer, sticking it into place, effectively incapacitating it. He saw the glasses guy—Tenya, he'd called himself—dashing between buildings, kicking a 1-pointer and breaking through their armor in one sharp heel kick. The mufflers on his legs puffed with smoke, firing up each time he accelerated. Izuku saw a pink-skinned girl throwing a grayish sludge all over a 3-pointer, seemingly melting it from the outside in.

And there he was, atop a robot of his own, about to down it, having not a lick of what they did. And it felt good.

Izuku raised his scrap rod high, clenched his teeth, and slammed its tip down into the back of its head. It slid easily right between its green metal plates, stabbing through the black mesh and wires there with a pop of blue sparks. The 2-pointer's legs crumbled right under it, neck and tail slacking, and Izuku fell in surprise. He managed to land on his feet, though he had to roll onto his hands to stop himself from planting his face into the concrete below.

Taking some time to breathe, he looked at the robot behind him. It slumped dead on the road, some sparks still shooting out its nape, and the eyes at either side of its head no longer glowed red.

"Looking cool, Midoriya-kun!"

Izuku turned to see Ochako run by, throwing him a thumbs up and a wide smile. He smiled himself, returning the gesture, before she turned a corner and disappeared from sight. Silently, he pumped his fist, allowing himself a few more seconds to revel.

That done, Izuku looked down at his digital watch. One minute had passed. He had nine left, but now that he had a strategy, he didn't feel nervous. Run from 1-pointers. Avoid 3-pointers. Focus on 2-pointers, even if it meant stealing someone else's points. They could likely find those points elsewhere, while his own chances required a very specific target. His smile widened.

I can do it!

AN:

This idea has been bothering me since the second chapter of the manga, mostly because I legit thought this is how things would go. It just made sense; a kid without powers in a world where everyone has powers, he already has a knack for analyzing other people's abilities to a somewhat obsessive degree, and he gets inspiration from the top hero in the land based not on his strength or skill but on his pure desire to save others. Why wouldn't he go to hero school to prove that quirks are more of an accessory than a requirement? To be honest, Izuku getting One for All soured me on the series for a good while there, even if I ultimately got over it and accepted the story for what it was.

Interestingly, Izuku's first incarnation was a quirkless hero equipment salesman. I can't prove this, but my suspicion is that Horikoshi's editor made him give Izuku a power to make the series more marketable to Shonen Jump readers, hence Izuku's backstory as a quirkless loser gets kinda tossed to the wayside in favor of One for All and all the lore that comes with it. The story we do get is therefore almost entirely different from the one set up by the first chapter, which I believe is the only one that carries with it the soul from that original oneshot.

I wanted a story about an Izuku who could only dream of being a hero, didn't have a single thing going for him, but who wanted it so bad that he figured out how to do it anyway. Looking around at other similar stories here, I noticed that they have Izuku go evil, or just full Iron Man, or otherwise compromise his character. That's fine for what it is, but they just didn't hit that itch for me.

I think the problem is that people often forget the most important part of Izukus character: the dude is a total hero nerd. He's introduced as someone who's filled up more than a dozen notebooks with what seems to be his own personal analyses of other people's powers and their applications. While he does this to prepare for a supposed future hero career, the implication is that he also does it for sheer personal enjoyment, simply because he finds it fun to learn more about other people's quirks. Tellingly, what impresses Izuku most about All Might isn't that the guy can blow up a city with a single punch, but that he smiles in a way that gives complete confidence to everyone around him. Izuku isn't a badass or a genius, at least not inherently. He's just someone who's really, really passionate about the aesthetics of heroism.

Actually, that's also what makes Katsuki such a good foil in that first chapter, because he's just as passionate about the same thing. But unlike Izuku, who idolizes the heroism part, Katsuki idolizes the aesthetics part. The guy's a tool, sure, but he's a tool primarily because he's so insistent on building the "perfect" hero career. What he cares about is making sure that, when all's said and done, he's the only one from his average municipal middle school who made it big—a real rags to riches story, one anyone can get into. He's not pissed at Izuku because he's an arrogant twit, though he is that. He's pissed at Izuku because, if he thinks about it, Izuku has the potential for a better story. What's more rags to riches than quirkless to number one hero? That's what I hope to write here.

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