On the Job Training

Standing in the blown out window were a pair of masked figures in what looked like repurposed sporting gear. One of them, hand outstretched, had clearly thrown some kind of shockwave, while the other squared up for a fistfight. Some others were lurking further back, but Midoriya couldn't get a good look at them. Kamui used a couple of the basic handsigns he'd shown Midoriya during the week and took up his own ready stance.

Midoriya, in accordance with Kamui Woods' signal cried out "I'll get the others!" and dashed off down the street. As it happened there were no "others" for him to get, but the idea was that the fear of reinforcements would throw their enemies off their gameplan. It stung him to know that Kamui Woods was fighting a band of criminals without him to help, but he also understood that he was an intern. Even as a sidekick, he would be expected to follow the plan.

The plan in question was a simple one. He was to find a safe place in full view of the public and wait there for Kamui to arrive. If he saw any other heroes, and those heroes did not seem to be on urgent business, he could tell them about the fight. He was not to get involved in any way. So, naturally, he stumbled across a totally different crime already in progress.

There were five of them in skull masks and sinister black hoods. They were hauling boxes out the side of an electronics store and into the back of a waiting van. For all that he couldn't see their faces, Midoriya didn't think they were much older than him. "Hey!", yelled Midoriya. One of them leapt into the van, and with a painful-sounding noise from the tyres he sped at Midoriya. Shock absorption active, Midoriya braced himself. This would be the hardest impact he had taken, and he could only hope that his stolen Quirk would hold up.

The van slammed into him with a resounding crash, and Midoriya found himself forced skidding backwards. There was pain, but it was the pain of a good, solid punch rather than being hit by a moving vehicle. Midoriya grinned. So, he could take it after all. The driver of the van was not so lucky, having been shot forward by the sudden stop and cracked his head on the steering wheel. The van slowed as his unconscious body (Midoriya was confident he hadn't been going fast enough for anything a doctor couldn't fix) slumped off the pedal. The other four took off running the other way down the alley, and Midoriya followed.

Behind the store was a broad concrete yard with loading areas for the parade of shops, and behind that was a deep drainage canal. The four remaining crooks could have made a run for it, and during the day there would have been vans, small trucks and busy workmen throughout the yard. At night, however, there was nothing but flat, empty land, and too much light from the rest of town for them to rely on simply running. They turned to face him and prepared to fight.

Midoriya settled into a UA-standard combat stance and had his hands up and ready to fight but not balled into fists. "You guys sure you want to fight?", he asked, projecting more confidence than he felt, "You can just come quietly, nobody needs to get hurt." He cursed himself internally for the cliché lines. He might as well have been reading off a cue card.

The masked crooks seemed to draw confidence from his less-than-inspiring speech. "He's just some punk sidekick", he heard one of them say.

"Doesn't matter", replied another, "We can tell the boss he was a proper hero, probably get a bonus." The rest of them chuckled, a low and menacing sound. "Hear that, baby sidekick?" asked the one who had spoken, "All you are is a payday!"

Midoriya clenched his fists and reactivated his shock absorption. "Alright, have it your way" he declared and started advancing towards them.

He'd had classes on this kind of situation, of course. His mind was going a mile a minute trying to recall every example they'd seen on CCTV, every practical exercise and every anecdote All Might had shared whenever he'd been comfortable enough with the class to go off-script and just sit with them all under the learning tree. One thing that had been repeatedly impressed upon him was the danger of being caught between two attackers; just as the two in front were attempting to do to him at that very moment.

He leapt over a low, sweeping kick and caught a swung tire iron on his forearm. He deliberately suppressed a grunt of pain. If he let them think he had bulletproof skin, he reasoned, they might just give up after all. In that same moment he reached out with Give and Take and took the Quirk from the guy who had tried to cave his skull in; he didn't have time to test it but he thought it was something to do with enhanced reflexes. He ducked under pipe guy's guard and punched him square in the jaw. With one opponent staggering away, he took the opportunity to turn and face the one who had tried to kick him. He was just in time to catch a blow to the side of the head, but with his Quirk active it barely registered. His enemy was larger than him, but it was almost all height rather than muscle. Midoriya stepped inside his reach and hit him with a series of quick jabs. A rising uppercut to the jaw was enough to put him down for the count.

The remaining two advanced towards him, and the one with the tire iron was slowly picking himself up again. He was in the middle of a broad triangle, and he realised he was closer to the one he had previously put down than the two healthier thugs. Removing one of the three from the fight was a sound strategy, so he sidled towards the wounded party while still keeping an eye on the other two. Fortunately for him, they seemed willing to hang back rather than inserting themselves into the fray. It was something his teachers at UA had often remarked upon—even when a group had numbers on their side, the individuals themselves would generally prefer to avoid harm, so it was often possible to handle even a large group piecemeal, or at least in stages.

As he had seen earlier, the yard ended with a slope leading down to a drainage canal. There was, naturally, a safety rail along the edge. Midoriya had perhaps taken just a little too much advice from Kirishima; as he decided the best thing for it was to rush his opponent and tackle him against the railing. He suited action to the thought and ran in a crouch towards the man. He blocked another blow and lunged into him. They both went flying, though Midoriya rolled out of the dive and tumbled into a controlled landing. His target continued to soar backwards until he hit the railing—and then continued to soar out into the open air as the railing snapped free of its pillars with an ugly, rusty sound.

Midoriya barely had time to wince with horror as he lost sight of his erstwhile foe. One of the remaining crooks rushed towards him with an outstretched, grasping hand and Midoriya realised he must be about to activate a touch-based Quirk. The shock of the fight forced him out of his nausea at what he might have just done to his fellow man. He took it before his opponent had the chance, and then allowed him to make contact anyway. The moment of shock that it hadn't worked would be enough to let him get a good hit, and potentially put him out of the fight.

At first, it all seemed to go according to plan. He brought an arm up to guard and subtly flicked his wrist to slide his sleeve down and expose a nice, tempting target of bare skin. The crook grabbed it with a predatory grin, which quickly changed to bewilderment as Midoriya stood utterly unaffected. Then he stood suddenly still, and slumped heavily against Midoriya. Looking down, Midoriya could see a knife sticking out of his former enemy's back.

He looked up aghast, and the final member of the gang was pulling another knife from behind his back. "What do you think you're doing?" he cried.

"What do you think I'm doing, you brat?" came the reply.

Midoriya realised he would soon have to dodge for his life. He took a chance and activated the reflex enhancement Quirk he had taken earlier, and to his relief found that it worked more or less as he had expected. He felt like a coiled spring, ready to explode into motion at any moment. "Why?" he called.

His enemy shrugged, and Midoriya realised as he followed the motion that he could guess his next move. "Why not? I saw a chance and I took it. I missed, but it's no great loss."

Midoriya shrieked with anger at this callous disregard for a human life and rushed at him. He ducked under a swing that, quick as it may have been, was so obviously telegraphed that it might as well have come with an invitation. He had heard of moving fluidly before, but that wasn't quite what he was doing. He was like a spark of electricity, moving rapidly from point to point in the shortest possible straight line, always moving around the knife, always just out of reach of his opponent. He backed him up into the corner between two walls.

Midoriya was understandably surprised when a blonde boy not much older than him ran through the wall as if it wasn't there and punched the last remaining crook in the side of the head. His target went flying as if he'd been hit by a train, and landed in a graceless crumpled heap. The boy shot him a grin and a thumbs up worthy of All Might.

Midoriya scrambled for something to say, something that would let him sound cool and professional. "Thanks for the assist", he managed. It was still a little standard-issue, but he figured he was at least getting better with his delivery.

"No problem" nodded the newcomer, "Name's Lemillion. You new in town?"

"Myriad. Internship week. With Kamui Woods."

That seemed to take Lemillion by surprise. "No foolin'? I didn't even know he was taking interns." He looked around. "Say, where is he, anyway?"

"We got separated. I'm, uh, he's actually dealing with a totally different bunch of looters a couple streets over, I kinda just ran into these guys by dumb luck. I'm probably not supposed to take on anyone without him around, now I think about it."

"Didn't want to pass up the opportunity?" asked Lemillion, a searching look in his eye.

"I don't think it was like that", argued Midoriya, "More like—well it sounds kind of silly when I say it, but I saw they were here, I realised I could help and then before I knew it I was just running straight at them."

"No, I get what you're saying", Lemillion assured him. "You know, All Might recently spoke to me about something similar. You look like you had these three under control even before I showed up."

"Five", he said quietly.

"Huh?"

"There, uh, there were five. One's still in the van. One of them fell." Saying it aloud made it real. "Oh no, oh no no, one of them fell! I think he might be dead!"

They rushed over to the railing, and one of the five was lying at the bottom in a frighteningly still way. Lemillion fell through the floor and popped out halfway down the slope, skidding down the rest of the way to kneel next to him. "He's breathing!" he called up.

Midoriya sagged with relief and then pulled out his phone. He called an ambulance in a shaky voice, and by the time he was done Lemillion had made his way back up to him.

"Why don't you tell me what happened?" he asked in a gentle voice.

Midoriya ran through the fight while Lemillion prodded him with questions. Midoriya felt like he was delivering a report to the police, and after a moment's thought he realised that was exactly what Lemillion was priming him to do. Police cooperation was an important part of heroics work, and something he'd have to get comfortable with. He felt he did well, at least until he got to the part where things got serious.

Lemillion seemed to understand his difficulty. "Myriad, listen to me. He was taking advantage of other people's chaos to cover for his own crimes. You tried to stop him, it turned into a fight. It was chaos, you said so yourself. He fell."

"Into a coma", muttered Midoriya mulishly.

"Well, yes, I suppose."

"But...what if I gave him brain damage? What if he has a wife and now he can't remember what she looks like? Or his kids, or anything like that?"

Lemillion sighed. "Myriad. Cool it. What if someone's robbing a bank, and you punch them? They land badly, they mess up their hip, and from now on they use a cane to get around. What then?"

"But that's awful!" wailed Midoriya.

"That's the job!" snapped Lemillion, "I'm sorry to say that, but it's true. This is a dangerous line of work, and anyone who gets into it has to know that." He sighed. "Listen, when you get back to UA, make an appointment to see Hound Dog. Something like this happens to one first-timer every internship week, he'll know exactly what you're feeling right now. And you probably ought to call Kamui Woods, too. Let him know you're OK."

Midoriya almost dropped his phone. "Oh boy. What the hell am I gonna tell him? I was supposed to be getting out of trouble, not finding more of it!"

Lemillion stuck out his hand and grinned. "Thanks for answering my call for assistance, partner."

Fortunately, Kamui Woods bought the story about Lemillion having asked for Midoriya's help. The two young heroes shared a wry smile when Kamui praised Lemillion's desire to keep his name out of the news and just handle the case by the books. The police arrived in due time with an ambulance right behind them, and Midoriya was surprised to learn that the goons he'd fought had been members of an anti-mutant hate group called the CRC.

The senior detective, a stern-faced woman with electric blue skin, took their statements and thanked them for their time. They watched the flashing lights move out into the night, just one of a dozen other cases in the city of opportunistic crooks striking while the eyes of the nation were on the chaos in Hosu. And yet, for all that other cases had flared up and been put down, for all that he'd had to lie about the extent of his own involvement, Midoriya felt a new kind of pride. This had been another trial in his path, another first for him to accomplish on his way to become a Hero.

'These are my arrests', he thought sardonically and grinned, 'There are many like them, but these ones are mine'. His thoughts turned to the man in the back of the ambulance, and the one who'd caught a knife in the back; and to their two Quirks now within him. His smile faded. He resolved to carry the one he had taken from the dead man for the rest of his life. It seemed to be a touch-based energy drain, though he hadn't yet had the heart to examine it closely. The other, the enhanced reflexes, he wanted to return as soon as he could.

But for all that, he knew it had been a win. He'd stopped a crime in progress and ruined the plans of a gang of anti-mutant bigots. He promised himself that next time would be cleaner. He'd know more, he'd have more control over the fight and what went on. Nobody, he swore, would get unduely hurt. They'd be fit and healthy for their day in court.

…

One Week Later

"What was it like as Endeavor's intern?" asked Ashido.

Instantly, Bakugo's face lit up. "He dragged us out of bed at too-early-o'clock, he drilled us constantly, he kept throwing us headfirst into training rooms or forcing us to go out on patrol with his sidekicks – it was like being conscripted or something, it was fuckin' great!"

Midoriya thought of Todoroki and gulped. "I bet it would be a lot less fun if you didn't get to leave after a few days."

Bakugo shrugged. "Yeah, being conscripted for real probably blows I guess. Hey Pinks, how was yours?"

She blew a lock of hair out of her face and leaned over to speak to Bakugo. "To be honest, she kinda didn't seem to have a plan for anything. Like, it was cool and all 'cause we did a lot of sparring and she took me out on patrol and told stories and stuff, but...I dunno. I got the feeling she didn't really know what do do with me once she had me."

Midoriya nodded. "Mirko doesn't usually take on interns. I guess she's out of practice at it."

"For real?"

"Yeah, there's these lists online of like, best agencies to intern for. Mirko's so high up in the rankings, but she's never even mentioned."

Bakugo shrugged. "Guess that makes you one of the lucky few, Pinky."

Ashido shrugged. "She did say she liked my matches in the Festival. Maybe she usually doesn't watch the first years or something. Oh, she did say one thing, though. It seemed important."

"What was that?" asked Bakugo.

"Don't make my looks my whole gimmick. Apparently when she was first starting out every agency just thought oh, she's from Okinawa, let's do a tropical island girl gimmick and she's just like – no. All I want to do is kick villains in the face."

Midoriya had given the class the sanitised version of his own experiences. None of their internships, however, could compare with Kaminari's adventure in Hosu. Midoriya had nearly fallen out of his chair when he had checked NHA News one morning and found a photo of his classmate alongside Iida and Kendo from class 1-B.

He had not been the only one to see it; come Monday morning Kaminari was swamped with questions. He ended up holding an impromptu conference. "So: no shit, there we were", he regaled the class, "the three of us trapped in a dark alley with Stain. Far as I can tell, Iida – that's the class B rep – ran into him first and then Kendo the vice rep showed up. My pro told me to get somewhere safe and out of the line of fire, so I figured I'd go down a quiet little alley and then I stumble over the whole mess."

"The news said you alerted Endeavor", said Mineta. "Did you like, shoot lightning up as a flare or something?"

"Aw, dude, that woulda been sick! But, uh, no. I can kind of like – buzz under my skin? At least, that's how I think of it. But, uh, you know, I can generate radio waves. A lot of electric-type emitters can. So I buzzed out 'SOS STAIN' in Morse Code and I guess Endeavor had some kind of a receiver."

"One of his sidekicks is an electric-type", said Todoroki. "Shock King".

Kaminari shrugged. "Well, that's lucky for me. Then Endeavor showed up and just beat the tar out of Stain. Like, damn. It was the drunk dad vs the red-headed stepchild. If I hadn't been scared out of my wits, I would have been cheering like crazy."

Todoroki had gone very quiet, but Midoriya didn't think any of the others had noticed. Kaminari had them all hanging on his every word as he concluded his tale.

"What was he like?" asked Mina, "Stain, I mean."

Kaminari digested the question. "What struck me most about him was his...sincerity."

"Sincerity?" echoed Uraraka.

"I mean how committed he was to what he was doing. He really, 100% wanted to kill us and he really, 100% believed that killing us would help save the world."

"I understand", said Tokoyami solemnly. "Though his actions were vile, I see how one might admire his devotion to his own cause."

The day continued on as most days generally do. During the night, it came out that Stain had died of his injuries. There was another conversation early in class the next day, though it was of a markedly different tone.

"But he died!" exclaimed Jirou, "of injuries Endeavor gave him! Frankly, as far as I'm concerned, Endeavor killed him!"

Shoda nodded. "Heroes must never kill, I'm sure we all agree on that."

Kaminari sighed. "Look, dude, I was there. If Endeavor hadn't put him down hard, for sure, he would have killed again. When I showed up, he had Kendo in a corner and he was going to cut her head off! Far as I'm concerned, Stain got what he deserved."

His position, though inarticulately put, had its supporters among class 1-A, and indeed among the wider world. Few would say that he had done the right thing, but many were hesitant to say he had done anything wrong.

The news was just as fascinating the next day, for a related reason. Police searching Stain's apartment had found a typed manuscript: The Superhero Industry & Its Consequences. In this document, Stain had laid out his views on the world, and the status of heroics within it. Naturally, they had preserved it for use in future investigations. However, some unknown individual or organisation had gotten ahold of the digitised copy and released it onto the internet. Attempts by the authorities to prevent its spread were, of course, futile. Within the day, anyone who wanted it had downloaded it in one form or another.

Never mind that the document was often incoherent and occasionally misogynistic and xenophobic. Never mind that Stain's own demise invalidated his all-or-nothing dogma. It had the inherent charm of anything forbidden, and was soon the desire of teenagers across the nation. The allure of the manifesto was all the more potent for its author's death. Stain, it seemed, had become a martyr for his own cause.

…

That weekend, Midoriya found himself at the front desk of Bakta general hospital speaking with one of their doctors. "May I see him?"

The doctor, a portly man with three eyes, shook his head. "I'm sorry, young man. Standard policy is that the coma ward doesn't allow visitors outside of immediate family."

Midoriya was sure his heart stopped for a moment. After the morgue, he supposed that must be the second-worst place he could possibly have been sent. "Doctor, I understand that you don't want anyone other than family visiting him, but I really, really need to get in there."

"You're a friend of his, is that it?"

"No sir, that's not it."

The doctor blinked all three eyes at once. "Is that so? Well, I thought you were a little young, but I guess appearances can be deceiving."

"I'm sorry?"

The doctor sighed. "No, young man, I'm sorry. I can't allow you in to visit your boyfriend."

Midoriya blushed. "It's not like that!"

"I'm sure", said the doctor dryly, "Honestly, we see all kinds of people here, you have nothing to be embarrassed about."

Midoriya shook his head. "No, really, it's not like that. I don't even really know him. But there was a fight—I'm a UA student, you see, it was internship week—and my Quirk, uh, it takes other Quirks. I want to give his back."

The doctor's mood seemed to turn more serious. "I see. Young man, I wish I could grant your request. But how Quirks affect the body is, frankly, a poorly understood science. My concern is that reintroducing it when he's in this condition might just make matters worse."

"But I can't keep it!" cried Midoriya, "What if he dies?"

"Look. You're a UA student, you said?"

"Yeah."

"Then we'll notify the school when he wakes up, and you can return it then. You know, it's really quite rare for a coma to last more than a month. Those stories you hear on the news about someone waking up 9 years later are exceptional cases."

What he did not say, and what Midoriya would not learn for some time afterwards was that there was a caveat to that last statement. It is true that most coma patients wake up within around a month. It is also true that someone in a coma for much longer than that may well never wake up at all.

…

Lemillion had advised him to visit Hound Dog, and one afternoon after classes were over Midoriya did just that. Hound Dog's office was comfortable and spacious. The traditional long leather couch was standing against one wall, but Midoriya was sitting in an ordinary office chair, looking across a neat and orderly desk at UA's guidance counsellor. The session had been going for around 20 minutes, and Midoriya was surprised at how easy it was to talk once he had started.

"What really eats at me", he said, "Was how this guy Lemillion just...I don't know, accepted it."

Hound Dog huffed a sigh. "I think, in his own way, he was trying to help. I know Lemillion, and he wouldn't want you to turn into some heartless brute, you know, like these big Americans you see sometimes with all their collateral damage."

"But what if that's what I am?" asked Midoriya, "what if I can't help anyone without hurting someone else?"

"I don't think that's the case", replied Hound Dog, "Or at least, no more than any hero has the potential to end up like that. You recognise the danger, and you want to avoid hurting people. I think your challenge going forward is going to be how to be aware of possible harm without second-guessing yourself. That challenge is one a lot of heroes face, and so it's one that a lot of heroes have different ways of facing. I can't tell you what way will work best for you, but I can recommend some good books on the subject." He slid a thin volume across the desk.

"When Titans Clash", read Midoriya.

"Read that, and if you have any questions about the content please get back in touch with me. But before that, I'd like to go back to a point you made earlier."

By the end of it, Midoriya had no idea how an hour of discussing such heavy topics had passed by so quickly. Despite their long conversation, he felt like they had barely covered any ground at all, and he happily agreed to another session the same time a week later.

The next morning, they were met with a sudden and jarring reminder of UA's testing schedule. With all the excitement outside of the classroom, it had been easy to forget about the upcoming end-of-term exams. Mr Aizawa stood at the head of the class and explained the plans for their upcoming tests.

"We had originally planned on making this a surprise, but in the end we decided to let you know ahead of time. Your end-of-term exams will be you students, in teams of two, vs a teacher." Aizawa grinned a manic grin. "Get ready, you brats. You're gonna learn."

OMAKE

"You seem to have made a lot of friends", commented Jirou idly one sunny lunchtime.

Pony shrugged. "I been helpin' folks out with their English, if they need it."

"You speak-of course you speak English! Oh, this is perfect!" beamed Jirou, "I've got all these ringtones for the class, and all the songs are in English so...you know, nobody else would get it."

Pony rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. "I, uh, don't really listen to punk rock."

"Don't worry about that. There aren't really that many punk songs about how it's nice to hang out with your friends, and my tastes are pretty diverse anyway."

"Makes sense. So, what's mine?"

Jirou scrolled through her phone until she found it. An acoustic guitar came in mid-strum, and a man's voice sang "I been through the desert on a horse with no name, it felt good to be out of the rain..."

Pony bobbed her head to it. "Say, this is pretty good. Ooh, ooh, what's Ashido's?"

"Well, that one actually is punk." Two swipes later, and her phone was blaring out "I turned into a Martian! Whoa-oh-oh!"