Their Hero Academia

by Zylly

Twenty-five years after Izuki Midoriya and the rest of Class 1-A first set foot in the halls of U.A., their children begin their own hero academia. What adventures and challenges await the newest generation of future heroes? Can they possibly live up to the standard their parents set? Will they put Aizawa into an early grave? Or will this be the most Plus Ultra class of them all?

86. Chapter 78:Conversations and Revelations

Their Hero Academia – Chapter 78: Conversations and Revelations

Katsumi was absolutely not tired. And she was definitely not worn out and exhausted from pushing her body and her Quirk all day. She was definitely not spent from using her explosive Quirk on bigger and bigger objects, infusing the liquid she generated into greater and greater objects. And she really wasn't already sick of Windbag and his high and mighty friends from his fancy-pants Hero school. She absolutely wasn't going to end up beating the shit out of the muscle girl by the end of things.

Which, for some reason, Izzy had tried to warn her off of doing. Izzy was typically very direct and this had been no exception. She'd been extremely explicit that Katsumi stood a very good chance of getting her ass beat if she tried to fight her. Of course, Izzy had couched it in slightly politer terms, worrying that she might get hurt and emphasizing the damage to her pride if she lost. Izzy, of course, had expressed every confidence in her abilities, but still didn't want her to get hurt.

Even with Izzy's direction suggestion that she not fight the Shiketsu girl, there was something more going on there. Katsumi didn't like that, not at all. And Izzy hadn't been more forthcoming beyond that.

It wasn't damn frustrating, not at all.

As if she'd ever lose a fight. Not counting her hard-fought loss against Izzy during the Sports Festival. Which wasn't going to happen the next time. The bigger they were, the harder they were going to fall.

At least her old man seemed happy. Dad was always happy when he was yelling at people, and he'd gotten to do a lot of that today. Apparently, he'd even lit into Toshi for being predictable and unimaginative with his Quirk. Good. It was about time someone tried pounding some sense into his green-haired head. The guy was a damn good fighter when he put his mind to it, but there was considerable distance in how he fought with his Quirk and without it.

"Okay people," she heard Katsuma—Bioshock, she had think of him and Mahoro by their Hero names when they were in teacher mode—call out. "You've all had a long day and tomorrow's going to be even longer. You'll be rising at 0500 and we're going to be spending the whole day putting you through your paces."

"And we aren't going to listen to any whining about you being tired!" Mahoro—Vanish Veil—added. "So if you're sluggish, it'll be your own damn fault!"

Bioshock sighed. "Thank you for that," he said.

"You're welcome."

"But she is right! You've got twenty minutes before lights out. Make the most of them, then get a good night's rest! Sleep is vital to a growing body!"

"Stop talking like a health class video! Why are you such a dork?!"

Katsumi just shook her head, getting up to head to the barracks. A voice from behind stopped her.

"Pardon me, but you and I have unfinished business."

She'd been expecting, maybe even anticipating, a confrontation with Tatsuma, the overgrown Shiketsu girl. So Katsumi hadn't strictly been paying attention to who the voice had belonged to. When she spun to face her attacker, her punch went high. A good blow to the face or throat would disable most people very quickly.

In fact, if she hadn't been so sure Tatsuma was going to be the one picking a fight, she'd have registered that the voice came from about a foot lower. As things were, her blow sailed right over Monoma's head. She'd given him a little credit though. He only barely flinched.

A smug grin spread across his lips. "Quite the hair trigger you've got there, Kirishima-Bakugo," he said. He eyed the extended arm as if to say, "Really?" She let it fall to her side, then crossed her arms.

"You want something, Monoma?" she asked. Of all the things she needed today, he was way down on the list. He'd mostly been leaving her alone lately, but his audible smugness was more than making up for it. "I've probably got enough time to deliver an ass-kicking if that's what you're looking for."

He chuckled at that, gesturing dramatically. "Oh I'll happily offer you the chance to try," he commented with a smirk, "but I don't think this is the time. I do want to make time for your gauntlet throwing, though, at some point in the near future."

"Delayed ass-kicking, got it," she said. She cracked her knuckles noisily in a show of intimidation. This time, to his credit, he didn't flinch.

He frowned, eyes narrowing as his shoulders relaxed. "Look… May I speak plainly?"

She narrowed her own eyes, setting her mouth in a hard line. "Get on with it."

"I was… very broken, after the Sports Festival," he told her. There was an earnestness in his eyes that surprised her. A raw level of emotion she hadn't expected of him. "I wanted to succeed so badly, to show you that I was worthy and to show the world that my class was worthy. But I screwed it all up. I focused too much on showboating and spectacle. Midoriya and the rest of your class… you had it figured out."

He looked down. "I gave as good an accounting of myself as could be expected against Kocho. It was simply a bad match-up for my skillset. And I am glad to see the Hero course recognized her abilities."

Monoma pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes flickering downward and flashing a shade of displeasure before he continued. "And then there was my failed confession. I'm not sorry I did that—don'thitme—and I think you may have said some things I needed to hear, although your delivery may need some work. And then, during my Internship with your father and Uncle Tetsutetsu… I froze up when the Nomu attacked. My Quirk isn't something I can turn off, and... Everything I was seeing of the creature was just so profoundly wrong that I couldn't take it. I shut down. I had to be carried away by Shoji, like a child."

Okay, that one she hadn't heard about. Papa definitely hadn't mentioned it. Of course, gossip about anyone like that wouldn't have been manly, so it was not a surprise.

"And from there, I just fell apart," Monoma said. He wasn't looking at her now. Instead, he was looking into the distance. "I can admit that now. I was certain I had a weak, worthless Quirk and that I had no place in the Hero course."

"Now wait just a damn minute," she snapped, pointing aggressively at him. "You're a bastard, but your fancy pants flippy Quirk is still useful. No reason you couldn't kick a moderate amount of ass."

Dammit, she was not feeling sorry for the Copycat Bastard. But she remembered her own Internship, how useless she'd felt watching that man die right in front of her, while her Quirk, even her muscles, couldn't do anything… Aunt Ochaco and Izzy had talked her back from that edge. She didn't think about it too often. Hadn't had the nightmares in a while.

"I've come around to that line of thinking," Monoma said. "But I appreciate the vote of confidence. Especially from you. But I was ready to quit after the Final Exam. Just long enough not to leave my class in the lurch. But Midoriya said some things about success and helping each other that stuck with me. And we passed."

He stopped, actually smiling and looking more than a little proud. She'd give him some credit. If 1-B's exam had been anywhere near as challenging as theirs—and Kana assured her it was—then he deserved a little pride.

"And then for reasons I'm still not entirely sure I understand, I ended up speaking with Kaminari and she got me looking at my Quirk in a bit of a different way. Trying to string my moves together better, weaving a whole song out of them, rather than single shots to be fired and discarded. So I stayed."

"Is that why you've been making goo-goo eyes at her?"

He sputtered, turning red and avoiding her gaze. "I thought we were being more discreet than that."

"Oh, please. Your dramatic ass wouldn't know discreet if it bit it," she told him. She tapped her wrist, as though checking a watch, giving him a glare. He got the hint.

"Regardless of mine and Kaminari's situation," he said, quickly, as though eager to move away from discussing it, "I want you to know I still want to prove myself against you. Not for any romantic pursuits anymore or even in some attempt to prove I'm better than you."

Monoma shook his head. "I want to prove I'm your equal. That I deserve my place here. You're one of the fiercest, most skilled fighters in our school. We've had an adversarial relationship since we were big enough for you to put me in a headlock. You're the mark I need to challenge myself against."

Okay. She definitely hadn't been expecting that. But for all she could erupt at a moment's notice, Katsumi could occasionally control her expressions enough not to show surprise. She knew she was tough and talented, but hearing him admit it, not in some kind of lovey-dovey star-eyed sort of way, but in actual respect, with none of his usual barbs, well, to say it was a surprise was putting it mildly.

"So, what do you actually want?" she demanded. "Get to the point already."

Monoma looked her straight in the eye, a steely determination there she hadn't seen before. "When the camp is over, when we're back at school, I want to fight a match against you. A true test against one another. Bring whatever support items you like, and, as the challenged, the right to choose time and place is yours. I'll make the arrangements with our respective homeroom teachers that it will be a sanctioned training exercise. May the better person win."

It was a more respectful challenge than she would have expected out of him, all things considered. It looked like Monoma had found his spine after all. And besides, she could go for bouncing him around the ring like a basketball for a few rounds. "You know what, Monoma?" she said. "You're on."

Akaya had the distinct impression that she was being watched. Not maliciously, she didn't think. She certainly didn't feel like she was threatened, but she was also fairly certain that someone was paying more attention to her than usual. Over in one corner of the room, she could see Kaminari, Mika, and Anime whispering together in a fashion that seemed almost conspiratorial.

Her opinion of the matter did not improve when she saw Ojiro go over and join the group. But even with counting several of the girls among that group as dear friends, she certain, somehow, that they were discussing her. She wasn't completely unused to being talked about behind her back, the girl with the strange religion and stone-skin, but she would not have expected it of her friends.

"They're talking about you."

Akaya looked over to her left, where Chiasa Kamakiri, her vaguely mantis-like friend from 1-B, was standing by her bunk. Chiasa held up a hand, showing that she was missing two joints from her smallest finger on her left hand. Her Quirk allowed her to split apart her body segments and transform them into tiny duplicates of herself that shared a hive mind. Very useful for espionage.

Chiasa's face split into a grin. "Do you want to know what they're saying?" she asked, playfully.

"I do not traffic in gossip," Akaya said simply, though she was also feeling a little hurt. Why were her friends talking about her? She didn't think they had any ill intent, but…

Chiasa continued as though she hadn't spoken. "They're trying to set you up with Aoyama!" She giggled with delight, clapping her hands.

Ah, of course. Their usual romantic pursuits. She wasn't surprised, especially now that Ojiro was involved. The invisible girl was nothing if not committed to the idea of "shipping" people she knew. It had only become worse since she and Anime had become friends. Still, she hadn't thought that Mika particularly liked Aoyama, so why was she…

Wait.

Akaya mentally replayed that sentence again.

"What?"

Chiasa nodded rapidly. "Mineta is leading the pack. Sounds like it might be her idea. They haven't noticed my mini-me's yet."

She was clearly missing something here. Akaya frowned in confusion. "I must have heard you wrong."

"Nope," Chiasa said. "They're gonna set you and Aoyama up. They don't have a plan yet. Fukidashi and Ojiro are fighting over which tropes to use. Mineta's encouraging all of it. Kaminari is telling them they're all insane."

None of this made any sense. Aoyama had certainly never displayed any kind of interest in her. Oh, of course, he did seem far more civil with her than almost any of their other classmates. And he never had any cross words for her like he did for almost anyone else. So what if he always made an effort to speak to her? What difference did it make that he always seemed to respect her opinion, even if he didn't listen to anyone else? And, of course, he had reacted more violently than everyone else when he'd found out she'd been the target of Quirk discrimination…

But certainly none of that meant he was interested in her! Not when he was traditionally good looking, prettier than even some of the other girls, and could have easily had his pick of anyone, if he'd just let his guard down around them the way he often did around her…

"Akaya?" Chiasa asked, mouthparts clicking together. "You okay? You kind of zoned out on me while I was talking."

She managed a nod. "I'm all right," she said. "Just taken by surprise." She looked over to a corner of the room that had been partitioned off with a curtain. Petal Princess had told her that they'd set it up so that she could have a private place to pray, if she so desired, being unsure if she was comfortable praying in front of others. Akaya appreciated the consideration. "Though I do need to say my prayers before I turn in."

It would give her a moment to think, at the very least.

As Akaya entered the small, privacy curtained space, she realized that it was already occupied. It was one of the Shiketsu girls, the one whom she had overhead a few times speaking to Tatsuma in a foriegn language that she couldn't properly identify.

"Oh," she said, "my apologies. I didn't realize anyone else was here." Though it varied from individual to individual, the average person in Japan was not especially religious or deeply spiritual. And the number of people who were any variety of Christian was smaller still.

The girl though, seemed as surprised to see Akaya as Akaya was to see her.

"It is no trouble," the girl assured her, her Japanese flawless. "I was finishing up anyway." As she stood up, a necklace with a familiar cross could be seen hanging around the girl's neck.

Well, that was indeed surprising. She had heard there had been some additional friction between some of the Shiketsu students and her classmates and the others. Perhaps she could help ease that by finding some common ground with one of them?

"Please forgive my forwardness," Akaya said. "But you are Christian? I rarely encounter anyone who shares a faith with me."

That seemed to surprise the girl for a moment, before she looked at her necklace as if remembering it was there.

"My parents are practicing Presbyterians," she answered, somewhat shyly. "I would not go so far as to say I am, but there is much about Christianity I admire. It's comforting to know there's an all-powerful being that actually gives a damn about you out there."

"My mother's family is Catholic," Akaya explained, "as am I." Her father and little brother, Rikido, were not, but it had never been an issue in their family. Both she and her brother had been allowed to explore faith options and choose for themselves.

"It is reassuring. It is often a troubling world. Having somewhere to turn to often helps me to ground myself." She offered the other girl a small smile. "I am Akaya Koda."

The other girl seemed to think a bit, as if wondering if she should say anything. Her face softened as she appeared to make a decision. "My name is Seung Park. It is...nice to meet you." She tensed a bit after saying her name.

The same sounded Korean to Akaya's ears, though she couldn't say for certain. Though Park was not Japanese, that much was apparent. She knew that foreigners didn't always have easy lives in Japan, but given how flawless her Japanese was, Park had to be at least second generation. Which did come with its own issues, of course…

"It is nice to meet you as well," she said. "How are you finding the camp so far?"

"So far I do not see what can be done here that we can't do elsewhere," Park admitted with a stern frown. "I can only assume the teachers are likely going to make us do something to pit us against each other for some 'clever' reason. Why else would Shiketsu be invited, given the asinine rivalries that are encouraged."

"Not an impossibility," Akaya agreed. Park, it seemed, was not afraid to be a bit bold in her declarations. Would that she had such confidence. "But I have been told that the Rookies are among some of the best trainers in the country, so I trust in our teachers' judgements. Perhaps they simply mean to push us all. A little bit of rivalry can be healthy… though there are those among my fellow students who take it to an extreme."

Shiro, for example, had already declared that the rivalry between Class 1-A and 1-B was in a temporary state of truce, until they had proven U.A. to be better than Shiketsu. She wasn't certain if that was a sign of maturity on his part or not, but at least he was trying to channel his energies in semi-positive directions.

"I have considerably more faith in Our Lord than I do in "Hero instructors.'" Park stopped, took a deep breath, said something in Korean, and then let it out. "I apologize. I am not as good a Christian as I would like to be."

There was a sore point there, Akaya was certain. For a Hero student, Park did not seem to have much faith in Heroes themselves. Or at least, not the ones running the camp, she wasn't sure. That seemed to be a bit of a paradox, but she did not wish to deny the truth of whatever experiences Park had lived.

She shook her head and held up her hands in an apologetic gesture. "No apologies necessary. Even if I don't agree, I won't deny you your feelings."

Park looked surprised at Akaya's response. Clearly, she was not used to people giving her point of view any kind of credence. "I appreciate that." Her eyes seemed to be looking elsewhere, as if she were looking at a place completely different from where they were. She shook her head, actually forming a small smile. "I do not wish to hold up your talk with God. I hope you don't aggravate him as much as I likely do."

Akaya offered the girl another smile as she left, before kneeling down to begin her own prayers. She would need much of His grace and guidance to get through this camp.

Takiyo tapped a few keys on the control panel built into his sleeping pod, causing the hatch to open with a slight hiss. Inside, it looked comfortably padded and had a control panel built into the other side of the hatch as well, so that he could open it when needed. It would be one hundred percent light proof. It was good of the Rookies to provide it, though he would have expected nothing less. U.A. had been very good at meeting his unique needs to far.

His cursed, cursed needs. His damn Quirk that caused him to absorb light constantly, necessitating that he discharge it in regular intervals, that he keep himself covered to minimize absorption, that his dorm room and his room at home be equipped with blackout curtains and more. It required him to be aware of his state of being every second he was awake.

His damn Quirk that had caused him too…

No.

His Quirk that he was going to use to be a Hero. To make up for… what had been done. No matter the costs to him. It was suited for it, where unleashing dazzling light, pushing back the darkness, or projecting devastating lasers. He would make it a Hero's Quirk.

He had actually exhausted his light-stores under the Rookies' training today, focusing on both his output and control. It was rare situation. Usually, he had to purposefully discharge it by the end of the day, just for the sake of discharging it. He had started to absorb more light immediately afterwards, but for the moment, he was just barely glowing, a faint sparkle outlining his skin.

"Ahem." A voice shook him from his introspection and he looked up to see Monoma standing next to the sleeping pod.

He'd barely spoken two words to Monoma that he could recall, in his entire time at U.A. The other boy was vain, arrogant, obsessed with his looks, and not especially self-aware. He was, somehow, friends with Koda, which confused Takiyo greatly. Mineta, he could understand, but he thought Koda was better than that.

"Yes?" Takiyo asked.

"Can we speak French?" Monoma asked. Takiyo had been vaguely aware that the Monoma family had some French ancestry, much like his papa also did. He himself was only culturally French to some extent, but the language came easily enough. Monoma cast a significant glance over in the direction of Sero, Sato, and Tsuchikawa.

"Oui," he replied. The secrecy was puzzling, he had to admit. What could be so important that Monoma did not want anyone overhearing?

Monoma nodded. "Let's be clear," he said, pointing. "I don't like you and you don't like me. That's fine. But no one deserves what's headed your way."

Takiyo raised an eyebrow at that. "Pardon?" he asked. A threat to his person? Was that insufferable Tsuchikawa planning something? But why would Monoma warn him about that?

"Mika, Yoarashi, and Fukidashi are planning to set you and Akaya up. Kaminari knows about it to. I don't think she can stop it."

They were going to… what?

Monoma went on. "Mika claims that it's obvious you two are very sweet on each other, but that neither one of you would be willing to make the first move. I don't know if that's true, but with Mika and Fukidashi teaming up, it's bound to be a 'zany scheme.'"

Koda… who was always kind to him, even when he let his anger and irritation get the better of him. And who forced him to be civil and interact with others, even when he wasn't doing a particularly good job of it. Koda, who was a sweet, kind girl, who did not deserve the cruelties she had recently endured and seemed to still carry with her.

"So as someone who has been pulled into many of Mika's well-meaning, but disastrous schemes, I felt you deserved a warning," Monoma added. But his expression turned hard as steel. "But rest assured, should you still chose to pursue a relationship with Akaya… You will treat her properly, or I will break every bone in your body."

With that, Monoma turned on his heels to walk to his own bunk, leaving Takiyo standing there, still trying to process what had been said.

"Hey! Aoyama!" He turned and saw Sero giving him a wave. "Didja loose the blond pretty boy contest or something? Looked pretty serious there!"

Takiyo's lip pulled back in a snarl. "SHUT UP!"

While the barracks for the kids had been relatively Spartan, the facilities in the main compound of the Rookies' complex were surprisingly nicely appointed. Most of them had gone to bed already. Lady Luminous and Bezoar were in charge of waking the kids up for the next morning's training session, but they'd all have to be up fairly early. It was late, eleven p.m., long past when Katsuki usually went to bed. At least he'd been able to slip away earlier and call Eijiro and Tai. It'd been a long time since he hadn't at least called to say goodnight to his son. He wasn't going to allow himself to miss it for a 'good' reason. Because he if he missed it for a 'good' reason, then it was a short trip to missing it for a bad reason.

And he was never going to be that kind of parent. His parents had never been truly neglectful—though it had taken a lot of therapy to overcome and course correct his sometimes-toxic relationship with his mother and his enabling father—but they had often been gone. He'd been left in the care of babysitters or 'Auntie' Inko as a child more often than he cared to remember, including one particularly disastrous time when he'd been ten and left in the care of his then-teenage shitty cousin Yu, and later to his own devices, when they'd been gone on some photo shoot or modeling expo.

Katsuki had been in a lot of fights over his life. But his toughest fight was the one he fought every day to be a better parent than his own had been. Thank whatever gods existed for Eijro. It was easier to be the better person when you had someone who believed in you that much.

The damned hobo had already gone to bed, but Katsuma, Mahoro, a Rookie he didn't recognize, and Fujii were still up in floor's kitchen. And damn did it make him feel old to see people he'd known when they were children as fully-fledged adults and Heroes in their own right. They'd both done good, he admitted, with Katsuma working with Deku for a time and Mahoro training with Camie and even working as one of his Sidekicks for a time. And sure, he hasn't that much older than either of them. He had less than ten on Katsuma and only five on Mahoro…

But even with their own experiences with that bastard, Nine, he'd had a lot more years of hard living than them. It added up. He certainly felt older than his forty-one years. Now, more than ever.

"So," he said as he entered the kitchen, "one of you want to tell me why we've got Shiketsu students here? Was the Hobo right? Are they dropping their problem kids on us?"

The Rookie he didn't recognize spoke up. He was a dark-skinned man with his hair in tight cornrows and seemed a bit younger than the rest. He had a red and yellow uniform, with a key-shaped insignia on his chest. "They're a little rough around the edges, but they don't seem like problems to me."

"You haven't been doing this as long as the rest of us, Takagi," Katsuma told him. "And you haven't seen the complete files."

Mahoro let out a laugh. "You say problem children like your kid isn't one, Katsuki."

Katsuki shot her a glare. Katsumi… He was proud of his daughter, loved her more than almost anything in the entire world. She'd gotten some of the best of him. But she'd also gotten some of his worst too. Her anger, her reluctance to properly grapple with her feelings or complex emotions. She might have finally resolved her long-standing hang-ups around Izumi, and she definitely had a better relationship with Toshi than he'd had with Deku, but he still saw some of his school-age self in her. "You take that back, brat." But he also wasn't going to let anyone else point it out.

"You going to make me?" She gave him a glare of her own, as though challenging him.

"How have you not matured any in twenty-five years?" he shot back.

"Should… should we be stopping this?" Fujii asked, looking vaguely panicked. The rubber-bodied Hero looked over at Katsuma as though to say 'please, stop this.'

Katsuma pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mahoro, please stop antagonizing Katsuki. If you two wreck the kitchen, it'll take forever to get it repaired. And Hiyori will pitch a fit if she can't have her waffles."

He pushed back from the table and stood up. "I already had conversations with All Might and Aizawa about this, but you're not far off, Katsuki. It's not a random delegation of students. We were asked to take them on specifically."

Katsuki just rolled his eyes. "Of fucking course."

"Hey," Katsuma said. "No need for that kind of language!"

"Yeah, you better listen to him, dammit," Mahoro said. "We've got a swear jar and everything."

Katsuki wanted to yell, to pop off a few explosions that would rattle Katsuma into realizing what a mistake he'd made in not telling him this immediately. But instead, he sucked in a breath and shook his head, grinding his teeth. He didn't like being blindsided like this, but anger wouldn't do him any good. Keeping track of the thirty-three U.A. students was enough of a challenge, even if he hadn't known some of them since they were in diapers. (He'd changed so many diapers. His shitty-haired husband had a bad habit of offering to babysit for their friends without consulting him first.) He didn't need any surprises, especially not in his first few days on the job.

What could be so bad that Shiketsu was dumping their kids on U.A.? Sure, the dragon kid was angry, but he'd been worse. And that didn't explain the rest, especially Windbag's kid.

"Tell me everything."

Katsuki took a seat at the table, as did Fujii, and Katsuma sat back down. Takagi remained standing, leaning against the kitchen counter. He crossed his arms and set his face in a scowl. To their credit, neither Katsuma nor Mahoro flinched. Mahoro even copied his gesture and expression, the scowl looking only slightly silly on her face. Takagi, though, definitely flinched at the scowl and impending sense of doom both he and Mahoro were giving off.

Good. It was good to see that even hobbled as he was, he could still be intimidating. Still, he felt a little bad. The guy probably didn't deserve it.

"Okay," Katsuma said, "so where do you want to start?"

"Tatsuma," Katsuki said. "I can already tell she's walking around with a hell of a chip on her shoulder. What's up?"

"Chie Tatsuma," Katsuma went on, "daughter of the Dragoon Hero: Ryukyu. Her Quirk allows her to transform into a humanoid dragon form. Class Representative, winner of their first year Sports Festival. Scary strong Quirk. I've looked at her file and her scores in the Shiketsu entrance exam were off the charts. They had to recalibrate their threshold because she scored so many points everyone else in her testing area was below the cutoff."

"Kind of reminds me of you, Blasty," Mahoro said, jabbing him in the side with her elbow. Katsuki had to admit, she wasn't wrong. Not that he'd let her have the satisfaction of knowing that.

"Okay," Katsuki said. "She's powerful, she's arrogant. I can work with that. What else?"

Katsuma frowned. "She's also got a small but building disciplinary record. She's extremely dissatisfied with the Hero Rankings and the whole ranking system in general. Of which she tends to me very vocal about. Not a lot of respect for most of the top ranked Heroes."

Fujii tapped a finger against his chin. "Didn't Ryukyu drop in the rankings really quickly? I remember when I was a kid, just after All Might retired, that she dropped a spot…"

That was putting it mildly. Once a young and rising star, Ryukyu had never been the same after the incident with the Shie Hassaikai. Round Face had said it was like she'd suffered a crisis of faith, lost a step somewhere. She'd slipped pretty steadily, year after year, ranking after ranking. And so people had stopped believing in her. You hear that kind of bullshit enough, you internalize it, and it just feeds a vicious cycle.

"And, of course, she's got the kids of a shit ton of high ranked Heroes with her here," Katsuki growled. "Wonderful. Let me guess… wants to make a name for herself and redeem her mom, but hates the system that'd make that happen?"

"Got it," Katsuma said. "Think maybe you can help direct her anger some?"

"I'm the Number Four Hero," Katsuki snapped. At least until the next Billboard Chart ranking. Not something he was looking forward to. It was only a "leave of absence." Best Jeanist had been the same ranking as he was when he'd suffered a nearly career ending injury too. That had turned out all right for his old mentor, but he wondered if he'd be able to say the same. He was going to file that under things he wasn't going to think about. "She won't listen to me."

"Aizawa said he'd talk to her," Mahoro said. "Underground Heroes don't get ranked at all. Maybe he'll get through. And besides, he managed to focus you."

Katsuki let her have that one.

"Let's see," Katsuma went on. "I assume you're familiar with Shinji Yoarashi?"

"You really want to ask stupid questions?" he shot back. "I've known Windbag's kid for ages. I'm guessing his being here has something to do with his unauthorized rescue mission back during the Nomu mess?"

The kid had likely saved Katsumi's life, Round Face's too, with that stunt. Even if it'd been technically illegal and on extremely dubious grounds, Katsuki couldn't blame him too much for that. Sure, he was as annoying and loud as his dad, but his heart had been in the right place. Sometimes, intent mattered more than the rules.

"Pretty much," Katsuma said with a nod. "His teachers want us to focus in on following the rules and proper procedures."

"Does that include knowing when to break them?"

"No," Katsuma said.

"Yes," Mahoro said at the same time. The two exchanged glances.

"Got it," Katsuki said.

"Good," Fujii added. "…Explain it to me?"

Katsuki did not dignify that with a response.

"Okay," he said, "what about Tsuchikawa?" He still couldn't believe Pixie-Bob had a kid. Apparently, she adopted him after stopping his villainous parent. Word around the rumor mill, or wherever Pikachu got his nonsense from, was that she was still just as promiscuous and flirtatious as ever, having made the complete transformation into a full on cougar. She was supposed to have a daughter too, he recalled, though the father wasn't known.

He shuddered at the memory of the woman at Class 3-A's graduation, sitting front row, giving him, Deku, IcyHot, and Glasses looks he never wanted to see again.

"Ego and lack of teamwork skills mostly," Mahoro told him. She gave him a pointed look. "Definitely your department."

"Ooooh, she's got you pegged," Fujii said. The rubber-bodied man grinned for a second, before wilting under Katsuki's glare.

"How has Aizawa not killed you yet, you glorified gacha prize?" His former teacher didn't suffer fools gladly and neither did Katsuki. And yes, while he was relatively young, Fujii did have an impressive career as a Pro-Hero behind him already. Never more than a "friendly neighborhood Hero", he was nevertheless liked by many and had saved a lot of lives. And very popular with children to boot. Tai had an action figure of him that actually bounced.

He was just damned annoying.

"I'm pretty much indestructible!"

Katsuki growled. "You want to put that to the test?"

"…No."

"What about Park?" he asked, rather than get drawn into anything else with his fellow teacher. "Korean, right?" Something tugged at his memory and he frowned as he tried to place it.

"Another one with a lot of anger," Katsuma admitted. "And even more distrust for Heroes than Tatsuma. Tatsuma, at least, only disagrees with the ranking of Heroes and the spectator sport part of that. Park isn't entirely convinced in the Hero system at all. Impressive Quirk though… uses bioenergy to enhance her physical attributes. Short bursts of power or speed. She'll make a good Hero if she can get past her issues."

He looked a little defeated by the prospect of it. Katsuki remembered what he'd been like on Nobu Island, a lot like Deku had been at the same age. So full of love for Heroes and faith that they could solve everything. He'd even admit he'd been like that at one time, before he'd been kidnapped and forced to reckon with his own limitations. Before he'd seen so much of the seedier side of the world, and the problems that punching something or unleashing an explosion in its face couldn't solve.

"Any idea what caused it?" Fujii asked. "Everybody likes Heroes. It's kind of Japan's thing."

"The Ignition Incident," Katsuki said, as the memory floated itself up into his mind. Up until Endeavor's public confession, it had been the biggest scandal in Hero history.

"The what now?" Fujii asked. His rubberized features twisted up in confusion. "I don't remember any Ignition Incident."

"Then you either weren't paying attention or had a crappy Hero History teacher," Katsuki growled. What the hell were they teaching in schools these days? That American idiot, Skyline, taught Hero History at U.A. He'd maybe he'd have to sit in on a few classes to make sure they were getting it right.

"Wait," Takagi said. His eyes went wide. "I know about that one. Shit."

"Anybody going to clue me in here?" Fujii asked, looking furtively from face to face. "I seriously don't know what you're talking about."

"So this was about twenty years ago," Katsuma explained. "Ignition was Suguru Dian, a U.A. grad from the class behind Deku and his friends, with a powerful flame Quirk that basically let him set anything on fire. He went from Sidekick to full on Pro in almost no time at all. People called him the second coming of Endeavor."

Katsuki remembered the guy, having worked with him a few times, both professionally and when they'd been students and the then Class 2-A had done joint training with the new 1-A. Arrogant as all get out, but with the talent to back it up. Of course, Aizawa and Deku had ended up having to pry him and Katsuki apart…

"So Ignition is half-Chinese and a rising star," Mahoro said, taking over from her brother. "And being a rising star like that, the HPSC, in its infinite wisdom, thinks it's got an "in" to help better police some of the Chinatown communities, especially with the Rising Sons Triad starting to fill the void the Shie Hassaikai left behind. Unfortunately, he's got daddy issues, on account of his Chinese dad abusing him and his mom. Which boils over into some pretty self-hating racist stuff too."

"Okay," Fujii said. "I'm getting some ideas here, but Park's Korean, not Chinese."

"We're getting to it," Katsuma said. "So Ignition is made a part of an anti-Triad taskforce, and ends up investigating a Triad owned restaurant. The community there is already pretty involved in self-policing, so there's a lot of resistance, insults, pretty much all his buttons getting pushed. But something inside him snaps, total breakdown. He thinks he's taking down Triad agents, and instead he's fighting innocent civilians with an extremely dangerous Quirk."

"People died, man," Takagi said. "Dozens more injured, massive property damage, the works. Public relations nightmare and international scandal. Global news for months."

"There was a big show trial," Katsuma added. "Ignition was stripped of his license. As far as I know, he's still locked away somewhere. The HPSC made a big show of providing additional sensitivity training for Heroes, better psych screening, community outreach, all the kinds of things that would reassure the public."

Katsuki remembered it all well. He'd only been solo a year or two at that point, not long after a stint sidekicking under Beast Jeanist. His late mentor had been appalled by what had happened. He'd been disgusted too. Especially by the way the HPSC reacted.

"It was all smoke," he snarled. "They didn't prohibit it, but they did stop specifically assigned Heroes to "ethnic" neighborhoods. And sure, plenty of Heroes still went in and did their damn jobs. But it broke a lot of trust. They left a lot of people to fend for themselves, instead of cleaning up their own act."

Even Deku had wanted to do more, but he'd been too new still, too hamstrung by the rules and regulations. He'd done more than any of them though. Deku was one of the few Heroes pretty much beloved across all communities in Japan.

"Things got better, eventually," Katsuma said. "Political winds shifted, Commission members turned over, policies got reversed, and we started working with people better. But there's still a lot of people out there who remember or who felt the effects of being abandoned. The general consensus in a lot of those communities is still not to trust Heroes or have any faith in us being able to get the job done."

"Well… shit," Fujii said. "How did I not know about this?"

"Because you're an idiot?" Katsuki suggested, but his heart wasn't in the barb. The man seemed genuinely shocked by the news and even a bit sobered by it.

"That's really only about half of it," Katsuma said. "She was born here, but her parents were immigrants, seeking to escape the anti-Mutant Humanist groups in Korea. Of course…"

Right, Katsuki thought. That was a whole mess of politics and cultural issues he didn't even feel remotely qualified to untangle. But the government tended to lump all members of an ethnic group together, in this case not sparing much distinction between new immigrants and culturally assimilated Zainicihi Koreans. With crime and politics and all that… it didn't leave a lot of faith in the supposed chosen protectors. And when you'd seen the government turn on you once…

"So we've got to undo generational trauma," he groaned. "Great. They came here, expecting the same protection from heroes Japanese citizens get, and instead they arrive into a hornet's nest due to uncaring bureaucrats desperately trying to save face while not rocking the boat."

He let out a frustrated noise. What about the last one? Shida? The spider-girl. What's her damage?"

"Oh, her," Mahoro laughed. "She just wanted to be with her friends, apparently. And no one told her why the others were being sent."

That was… that was… pretty par for the course for absurdity, where things in his life were concerned. Katsuki let out a laugh, long and loud.

"Make it stop!" Fujii wailed. "He's scaring me!"