A/N: Hey, everyone! Welcome to my newest "My Hero Academia" fic! I was first inspired to write a story about Class 1-B by DrZenkai, a writer active in Archive Of Our Own. If you are a big fan of Class 1-B, then I strongly recommend reading their fic "The Heart of a Hero" over at AO3; it's probably the pinnacle of Class 1-B-centric fics out there. Anyway, it is all because of DrZenkai and their fic that I wanted to write a Class 1-B fic of my own. That, and the fact that I'm simply just as crazy about Class 1-B; I think that each and every one of the students in that class are underrated characters that we should see more of in the canon.
It took me a bit of a while to really figure out what kind of fic I wanted to write about Class 1-B, mostly because I wanted the fic to have a similar kind of pull that "The Heart of a Hero" has over at AO3. Eventually, I decided to go down the safe yet most interesting route of writing an AU in which our protagonist and favorite cinnamon roll/broccoli boi/precious bean Izuku Midoriya gets assigned to Class 1-B instead of 1-A. Now, if any of you know me from an ongoing MHA fic of mine, "Hero Club", then you'll probably remember this idea from my Author's Notes. It's something I've mentioned on occasion as a potential fic idea for me to pursue until I decided to tackle "My Marvel Academia: A Tale of Two Schools" instead.
Anyway, this was an AU that I've spent over a year developing and refining and redeveloping. One of the first things that I did was make Izuku/Itsuka the main ship, because I found Itsuka to be a very intriguing character to explore ever since I first saw her, and I thought that her personality would have made her a great female protagonist, perhaps even moreso than Ochako (no offense to all of you Uravity fans). As for the pairing itself, I was motivated to write a fic on it ever since I read "Fist to Fist, Heart to Heart", another Izuku/Itsuka fic written by the god of underrated ships, Yojimbra. I liked how that fic tackled such a unique shipping, and I wanted to give it a try myself.
Ultimately, I put that AU project on hiatus in favor of other projects, and also because I started to have my doubts on my ability to execute it the way I would have liked it to be executed, for a lack of better wording. Even so, the Izuku/Itsuka ship never really left my interest, and as the months went by, my interest in writing an Izuku/Itsuka fic just strengthened until eventually, I decided to write a simpler fic. This would hopefully help sharpen my writing skills in preparation for the AU. Here, I've decided to make the fic a little more compliant with the canon, like Yojimbra's fic was. As for the new plot, it was partially inspired by "The Quintessential Quintuplets", a harem anime that I'd recently gotten into, and an anime that I actually recommend, unironically. For a harem anime, it's low on the fanservice and high on the overall quality and character development. (Speaking of which, I am also planning a crossover between that and MHA, so keep your fingers crossed for that!)
Alright, I think I'm done with the explanations and such! On with the first chapter. ENJOY!
P.S.: Yeah, yeah, I know the title "Fists from the Heart" is a lil' bit too similar to Yojimbra's "Fist to Fist, Heart to Heart" for comfort. But believe me, I tried to come up with another title that was more distinct, but the moment "Fists from the Heart" entered my mind, I just couldn't shake it off until I decided that it was just meant to be. Rest assured, the title is just about the only thing that's clearly taken from "Fist to Fist, Heart to Heart". This first chapter will prove that the rest of the story will be anything but a shameless rip-off. :D :D :D
P.P.S.: Due to the slowly improving situation regarding the coronavirus outbreak, I am going to have to remind you all about the basic steps you should take if you want to stay healthy, courtesy of my university's reminder emails:
-Wash hands often with soap and water for 20-30 seconds at a time, and/or use hand sanitizer
-Avoid close contact with people who are sick
-Keep your hands away from nose, eyes, and mouth (I can't imagine how difficult this part is probably going to be)
-Eat well, get adequate rest, and exercise regularly
-Get a flu shot if you haven't already and are able to
-Stay informed on the COVID-19 vaccines and get shots if you're able to
And if you ARE sick (I hope you get better if you are), please be a good sport and save other folks the trouble of getting sick. You can do this by:
-Covering your mouth and nose with your sleeve, elbow, or a tissue whenever you sneeze or cough
-Not sharing food and drinks with others
-Avoiding touching your mouth, nose, and eyes (Again, I understand this is probably going to be difficult)
-Avoiding close contact with others
-Cleaning and disinfecting surfaces and objects
-Staying at home if you're unwell (PRIORITY NUMBER ONE!)
-Staying calm and keeping yourself well-informed (My personal advice)
If you already know this, then great! If you didn't know any of this beforehand, please keep that information in mind as we all go through this trying time. It's a realm of unknowns at this point, and I wish myself and all of humanity well.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own "My Hero Academia" at all! All claims of ownership automatically go to Kōhei Horikoshi and all of the great and hardworking people over at Shueisha, Bones, VIZ Media, and Funimation.
When I was young, I learned a sad truth: all people are not created equal. In my case, I learned that some people had more power than others. But that never held me back. If anything, it pushes me to do better. But it was not always that way. When I was still young, I was almost ready to accept my powerlessness. I was ready to accept that sad truth.
Until I met her.
Ten years ago...
The two children stood in the middle of the simple dirt trail, their hairs fluttering in the soft, cool breeze. On one side was the ocean, its surface glittering brightly and brilliantly as it reflected the setting Sun's golden sunlight. On the other side was the local park, bursting with fresh, green vegetation that also swayed to and fro from the breeze. In the background, a person and a group of three stood on opposite sides of the park, each of them waiting for one of the children.
One of the youths, a boy with hair and eyes as green as the park that surrounded them, stared deeply and intently into his peer's eyes. His grip tightened around the small notebook that he had been carrying this entire time.
"I..." he began, momentarily hesitating as if he was tempting fate, "I'm gonna miss you..."
His lower lip quivered at those words, which did not go unnoticed by the girl. Her energetic teal eyes shone brighter, and her smile widened ever so slightly while her fiery-orange hair fluttered like a curtain.
"Ah, come on, don't ya start crying on me now!" she exclaimed. But when her upbeat words were only met with a quiet sniffle, she took a step closer to her friend and abruptly instructed, "Hey, look at me."
He did, and she suddenly lifted her thumbs to his freckled cheeks. Before the boy could even say anything, he could feel his lips being forcefully lifted into a smile. Once the girl withdrew her thumbs, he kept that smile in place, but solely for her sake.
"Ah, now there we go!" she said cheerfully. "Now that's what I prefer! The boy who always has that cute smile of wonder and excitement!"
With her smile still in place, the spunky redheaded girl grabbed her friend's hands and held on to them tightly, provoking a low moan of embarrassment and an intense blush from him.
"Let's make a pinkie promise!" she exclaimed.
"A...A pinkie promise...?" the boy repeated, confused.
"Yeah! A promise that we can hold on to, so we'll remember each other the next time we meet!" She held a clenched fist close to her chest, right over her heart. "I promise to be a great Hero! One of the best! A Hero who will keep smiling no matter how terrible things get, one who won't give up and lie down till the fight's over!"
The boy blinked, hesitating. He wanted to reciprocate that promise, make a promise of his own, but he knew deep down that he could never live up to his own words. He knew that his own body, his own existence, would be the very obstacle to him keeping that promise. He couldn't bear to keep his friend's expectations unreasonably high when reality had other plans for him. And yet...
He could never bear to see his friend so disappointed in him. After all, she was the only person who supported him even when he was weak, even when he was at his lowest point and had nowhere to go. He couldn't let her efforts go to waste, at the least.
So, he tried his best to widen his smile and raised his own clenched fist high in the air.
"I promise too!" he declared. "When we meet again, I'll be the greatest Hero the world has ever seen! A Hero people will smile at and feel safe around, especially when I say, 'I am here!'"
The girl beamed at his words. "Alright, then!" She held out her pinkie. "I'll hold you to that promise!"
The boy looked at her outstretched pinkie for a moment, before smiling and entwining his own pinkie with hers.
"Until we meet again!"
"WAIT! PL-PLEASE DON'T GO! STOP!"
Izuku Midoriya abruptly shot up into a seated position, his arms groping helplessly at empty air. He then looked around, his frazzled yet alert mind still processing his reality while his emerald eyes began adjusting themselves to the gleaming morning sunlight. Eventually, the nature of his surroundings set in, and the boy released a heavy sigh as he laid himself back down in the comfort of his bed.
The present day
"That...That dream..." he thought, absentmindedly raising a hand to move some stray locks of green hair away from his face. "I had it again. It's been a while since I last had it..."
"I promise to be a great Hero! One of the best! A Hero who will keep smiling no matter how terrible things get, one who won't give up and lie down till the fight's over!"
"I wonder how that girl's doing nowadays. Is...Is she still working to be a great Hero like she promised me? Or...has she forgotten all about me...?"
"Alright, everyone. I have an announcement to make, so listen up."
Izuku almost hiccupped in surprise from the abruptness of the voice. He and the rest of Class 1-A sat at attention as the homeroom teacher, Shota Aizawa, ambled up to the front of the classroom, where his simple podium awaited. All twenty students and aspiring Heroes instantly noticed how gruff and sharp he looked, moreso than usual. A collective sense of dread began to well up inside the classroom, especially as the students noticed the sheet of paper in Aizawa's right hand.
As soon as he reached the podium, Aizawa regarded his students with his baggy eyes for a few moments. The feeling of dread only rose when the students realized he was giving them the same hawkish, judgmental stare that he reserved for them in the tensest and most demanding of training exercises. It was a total betrayal of his usual drowsy, fatigued look.
"Today," he droned, "we'll be starting a brand-new training exercise, one unique to this year of Hero courses."
Everyone's heads perked up suddenly. Some were obviously enthused at the idea of more training exercises, while others latched onto Aizawa's strange and intriguing description of the activity. In his seat, Izuku belonged to the latter category; he phased out for a quick moment to dissect and analyze his homeroom teacher's words.
"A new training exercise...unique to our class?" he thought. "That's weird. What exactly did we do that made the school feel we should be receiving some sort of special training?"
However, at that thought, his mind flashed back to all of the encounters Class 1-A had with the League of Villains, as well as their direct involvement in a number of other Villain encounters in the past year. The viridescent boy could do nothing to suppress the cold shiver that went up his spine.
Then, Aizawa's voice snapped him out of his reverie.
"Recently, it has come to Principal Nezu's attention that there's been a...certain tension between members of your class and those of Class 1-B this past year."
"Ohhhhh. I see now."
The fear and dread in Izuku's heart was quickly replaced with relief and understanding. The end of the week before last week had been a complete nightmare for everyone involved. Due to some last-minute renovations that had to be made on many of the U.A. training grounds, the two sister classes were forced to share the same training ground, in what was called an impromptu joint training exercise. Though many in the two Hero classes got along nicely, memories of the Joint Training Battle activity were still fresh in everyone's minds. Given the general competitive attitude that had been brewing ever since the start of their U.A. school lives, it was clearly a recipe for disaster.
The powder-keg was lit the moment a certain student in Class 1-B picked an inopportune time to throw insults.
"I hear deafness leads to impaired intelligence. Honestly, I'm not surprised 1-A's resident loudmouth is just as slow-"
Izuku nervously cast a glance at the back of Katsuki Bakugo's head. Though he couldn't see his face, Izuku could feel the absolute hatred radiating from his classmate's entire body. Aizawa seemed to have noticed as well, for he mostly stared at Katsuki's proximity as he continued his speech.
"Now, U.A. has seen its fair share of personal competition between its Hero classes," the teacher continued. "But...until the events of two weeks ago..." He momentarily paused, and everyone could see the ire creeping into the Erasure Hero's normally lifeless eyes. "Events that were utterly disappointing and disrespectful of U.A.'s long-held traditions of- What do you have to say for yourself as class rep, Iida?"
Everyone's eyes uneasily focused on Tenya Iida. Though he now regretted his spur-of-the-moment jerk of a movement, nevertheless, the bespectacled teenager lowered his hand and spoke. His face was hardened with respect and formality, moreso than usual.
"I apologize for the interruption, Sensei," he said. "I promise I'll let you continue your lecture uninterrupted, shortly. But I want to commend the actions of many of us that day. Surely you saw as well as I did how most of us tried to break up the fight-"
"I did see it, Iida," Aizawa interrupted. "I saw it as clear as day. But you're NOT going to make a case on how the actions of...a certain few-" He discreetly gazed at Katsuki as he said those three words. "-Do not reflect the overall attitudes and conduct of this class. In fact, it is quite the opposite. If you all remember your lessons on public opinion, you'll find that a scandal like this can shake public confidence in the Heroes entrusted to protect them. There is a multitude of scenarios in which the public must rely on many Pros to protect them. But if these Pros just cannot get along with one another, then how can they be expected to be efficient and responsive when the situation calls for it?"
"He's got a fair point..." Izuku thought. "I'd certainly have second thoughts the moment I see teamwork between Heroes break down just as quickly as it did two weeks ago. A few good seeds in the bunch would barely be any consolation." He then stared at Katsuki's back as the ashy-blond continued to seethe with anger. "The bad seeds, I'd turn my head away from that point on in a moment's notice..."
At that moment, the boy's thoughts were broken by Aizawa's voice.
"Yes, Yaoyorozu?"
"I'm confused," Momo Yaoyorozu said as she lowered her hand. "What does our relationship with Class 1-B, as fraught as it has been lately, have to do with this brand-new training exercise?"
"Everything," Aizawa responded, his voice not changing even by a pitch. "While Principal Nezu is...normally encouraging of class rivalries, he feels that the air between 1-A and 1-B necessitates a little...'winding down', in his own words. And after a long discussion amongst the faculty..." He narrowed his eyes momentarily. "And against my personal misgivings, we've decided to do that by..."
With that, he slapped on the podium the sheet of paper he had been holding.
"Mixing up the two class rosters for a week."
This revelation was immediately met with vocal surprise by all twenty students.
"We're gonna mix up class rosters?!" Hanta Sero exclaimed.
"How're we gonna do that?" a confused Mina Ashido asked.
"Are we gonna spin a wheel or something?" Ochako Uraraka asked, equally confused.
"What's a roster?" Denki Kaminari asked dumbly.
"HELL YEAH!" Minoru Mineta shrieked in delight. "MORE BABES IN THE CLASS! I'M SO PSYCHED!"
"Everyone, s-settle down!" Tenya cried while flailing his arms in alarm. "Let Aizawa-sensei finish his announcement first!"
"YOU GOTTA BE SHITTIN' ME!"
Everyone's heads turned toward Katsuki, who had shot up from his chair and violently slammed his palms down upon the surface of his desk. As he did so, he inadvertently activated his Quirk, causing a small burst of sparks to jettison outward once his palms made contact with the desk.
"There is no way in hell I'm gonna mingle with those extras!" the ashy-blond boy snarled loudly. "Especially the copycat! No way!"
"Bakugo, please sit back down on your seat before you upset Sensei!" Tenya wheezed in desperation.
"K-Kacchan," Izuku piped up meekly, "pl-please calm down and-"
"All of this because that copycat extra got his panties up in a bunch and decided to cope by frigging belittling me, like a little child?!"
"Yes, Bakugo," Aizawa droned, his intonation now slightly more menacing. "But you're not blameless in this entire matter either."
"I was just trying to show him how much of a frigging dumbass-!"
"You left Monoma with a broken nose, a dislocated arm, and several bruises and first-degree burns," Aizawa interrupted bluntly.
"Exactly!"
"No, Bakugo. You just let your emotions get the better of you, and you jeopardized a potential working relationship with another Hero-to-be. And now, you are going to deal with the consequences of that for the next week, whether you like it or not."
Katsuki gritted his teeth and glowered intensely at Aizawa, who simply stared back at him with a flippant demeanor as he continued with his speech.
"Your future as a Pro depends on it. Not to mention your grades..." He then scanned the rest of Class 1-A with narrowed eyes of disapproval. "And the same goes for all of you."
Katsuki released a stubborn huff as he sat back down. "Alright, then! Then I'll show that copycat he underestimated the likes of me! I will make him shit his pants at the sight of my power, and I'll have him grovel at my feet by the end of the goddamn week, begging for forgiveness!"
"Do that and you'll be out of this school faster than Nezu solving the Riemann hypothesis," Aizawa deadpanned. Then, he noticed another hand up and addressed it. "Todoroki?"
Shoto Todoroki curtly lowered his hand. "You say we're going to mix Classes 1-A and 1-B up. How do you propose we do that, Sensei?"
"I'm not proposing anything, Todoroki. The faculty has already agreed to suitable new rosters for the classes yesterday." Aizawa promptly took the sheet of paper on the podium and read it. "If you hear your names, stand up from your desks. Aoyama, Asui, Kaminari, Koda, Sero, Tokoyami, Todoroki, Hagakure, Bakugo-" He sensed the twitch in the corner of the classroom but chose to ignore it. "And Yaoyorozu."
The ten aforementioned students stood up, including Katsuki, who looked absolutely irritated over having to stand back up after Aizawa ordered him to sit down. The homeroom teacher scanned all ten for a moment, then he gestured toward the door.
"You ten have been chosen to fill the vacancies left in 1-B," he instructed. "You are to report to Room 1-B immediately."
"YOU GOTTA BE SHITTIN' ME!"
Once again, Katsuki furiously slammed his palms into the surface of his desk, triggering small sparks from his Quirk. This time, the desk buckled and groaned, unable to handle the abuse for any longer.
"Mingling with those extras is one thing," the ashy-blond snarled savagely, "but being ONE OF THEM?! I DON'T FUCKING THINK SO!"
"This is only for a week, Bakugo," Aizawa said with an exasperated sigh.
"A WEEK, MY ASS! WE BEAT 1-B'S ASSES IN THE JOINT TRAINING EXERCISE, AND NOW WE'RE GONNA BE ONE OF 'EM! I CAN'T SHARE-!"
"Bakugo." Many of the other students recoiled in terror at Aizawa's voice, just as his hair and thick scarf started to flutter ominously. "Remember what I said. Your grades, and your future as a Pro, depend on this new exercise. So if you wish to continue with your dream, I suggest that you swallow your pride and follow along." His eyes narrowed slightly. "And who knows? Maybe you might learn something valuable along the way."
Katsuki wanted to retort, but he knew Aizawa's Quirk in action when he saw it. Instead, he reluctantly stuffed his hands into his pockets and muttered curses to himself as Momo addressed her group.
"A-Alright, everyone," she said, clearing her throat apprehensively. "You heard Aizawa-sensei. Let's head to Room 1-B."
The other students nodded or muttered in agreement, sans Katsuki, and the group of ten proceeded out of the classroom in an organized fashion. As each of them passed by Aizawa's podium, the Pro Hero spoke to them one last time.
"In the hall, you will meet the students that 1-B is transplanting here. Do not interact with them. As soon as everyone is in their new classes, the day will proceed as normal."
Izuku watched as Katsuki, Shoto, Momo, Denki, Hanta, Tsuyu Asui, Fumikage Tokoyami, Toru Hagakure, Yuga Aoyama, and Koji Koda left the classroom, one by one. As the last of them departed uneventfully, the green-haired boy continued to process Aizawa's abrupt announcement.
"So," he thought, "for the next week, Kacchan, Todoroki, and some of the others will be in 1-B, while some of 1-B will be with us. Hmmm..." He tapped his chin while becoming lost in thought. "I wonder who will be joining us from 1-B...?"
Suddenly, he heard the door open again and quickly straightened up in attention, as did the remaining half of Class 1-A. They watched as their 1-B counterparts filed into their own classroom and stood beside Aizawa, mostly awkwardly so. A cocktail of mixed feelings hung in the air, all threatening to brew a potentially explosive concoction. Some of the students felt as if the world had turned upside-down and inside-out now that they had to share the same space with one another for a whole week. Others were already taking on an academic mindset, wondering how to get the best results out of this activity. Only one person was truly pleased by the new arrivals, but that person was Mineta, so there was nothing else of note to say about that.
Then, these mixed feelings turned into one shared emotion of displeasure the moment one of 1-B's students opened his mouth.
"Well, will you look at that?!" Neito Monoma exclaimed tauntingly. "Class 1-A no longer has their recommended students with them! Oh, and not only that, but you're stuck with just one recommended student now while the rest of 1-B benefits from having three! My, my, the scales sure have tipped to 1-B's favor! HAHAHAHAHA!"
"This is only for a week, you idiot!" Kyoka Jiro snapped.
But Neito ignored her and just continued to laugh maniacally, the sound of his voice filling the room in an instant. Aizawa and some of the 1-B students shook their heads in varying degrees of embarrassment and mortification. Fortunately for Class 1-A, the shameless yet humiliating display on Neito's part ended when an enlarged hand karate-chopped him in the back of the neck.
"HI-YAH!"
"OOF!"
In seconds, Neito slumped over like a fallen pile of bricks, only being deftly caught by his assailant's other hand.
"Don't worry about him, you guys," Itsuka Kendo said cheerfully, but with a hint of apology in her tone. "I'll see to it that he isn't too much trouble for this week."
"I sure hope so," most of the class thought simultaneously with dread.
"Alright, everyone," Aizawa droned, gesturing to the ten new arrivals. "These are the transplants from 1-B. They will be your classmates for the rest of the week, so please get along nicely. Your relationships for the duration of the week will be evaluated and taken into account in your final grading." He proceeded to read his sheet of paper again. "Now then, I need all of you to stand up and switch desks. The seating arrangement's going to be changed up now that we've got new students here. Please use my sheet for reference if you're lost."
At Aizawa's cue, the students all began switching desks according to the new alphabet brought by the 1-B transplants. A few used their teacher's paper as a guide, like he offered, while some others already knew where to go.
As for Izuku, he realized he didn't have to move anywhere after taking one look at the sheet. As he returned to his desk, the boy passed by Itsuka, who had just finished depositing the still-semiconscious Neito into his assigned seat. Since the two were walking down the same aisle of desks, they had to adjust their bodies to give each other enough room to pass by. And pass by they did, by mere inches. They didn't meet eyes at first, but when Itsuka passed Izuku, her side-ponytail swishing to and fro from her polite nod of acknowledgment toward him, the freckled boy stopped, his heart jumping once with a sudden sense of joyful nostalgia.
Guided by some unknown instinct, Izuku looked over his shoulder and watched as Itsuka ventured towards her own seat. He sought out the same nostalgic feeling, mostly out of intrigue than anything else, and he hoped the sight of Class 1-B's representative would trigger some sort of emotion or memory in him, any sort of response that would explain what he'd just felt out of the blue seconds ago.
But the only thing that came out of that was a dull sense of longing.
"Uhhh, Deku?" a familiar voice asked.
Izuku hiccupped in surprise and glanced at Ochako, who was blinking at him in surprise and a little concern.
"Are you alright?" she asked hesitantly with a tilt of her head. "You looked freaked out for a sec."
"N-No, Uraraka!" he stammered, blushing intensely in embarrassment and hoping no one else saw his reaction. "I'm, uh, I-I'm fine! I'm-I'm just fine!"
Then, he glanced back at Itsuka, just as she sat down in her new seat, the one she would call her domain for the rest of the week. Once again, he couldn't feel that same strange feeling he felt earlier. But he knew he felt it, and he wondered what that was all about.
"Everything's just fine..."
At the same time, Itsuka had felt a sudden chill travel up her spine when she passed Izuku and felt his eyes on her. She knew better than to assume he just developed the hots for her and was now perving on her in a way that'd make Mineta proud. Even though she only knew him on a casual, class rivalry-type basis, she had seen and heard enough to know he wasn't the kind of person and was focused on becoming a great, responsible Hero, just like her.
Even so, there was no mistaking the chill she felt. What the class representative couldn't tell was whether it was meant to be a good kind of chill or a bad kind. She always assumed herself to be a master of her emotions, just like her uncle had always taught her, but this kind of emotion that she suddenly felt in that moment...
It was unknown to her...
"Yo, Kendo!"
Itsuka straightened up in attention and realized she was now sitting in her new desk, the desk that she would call home away from home away from home for the duration of this week. Standing over her were her friends and classmates Yui Kodai and Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu. Yui was looking down at her with her usual flat, emotionless look, although Itsuka was aware of the more complex character hidden underneath that cold exterior. As for the more extroverted Tetsutetsu, the steely boy was clearly more in tune with his surroundings, for he was giving Itsuka a concerned stare.
"O-Oh!" Itsuka she exclaimed with surprise. "H-Hey, you guys! Uh, I think you should quickly head to your seats before the infamous Eraser Head obliterates you with his stare."
"Yeah, we're getting to it!" Tetsutetsu cried boisterously. "But first, we just wanted to check on ya! I saw that you looked bothered for a sec!"
"Mm," Yui vocalized in agreement.
"Is everything alright, Kendo?"
Itsuka quickly shook off the lingering chill and gave her classmates her usual chipper smile. "Everything's alright."
"Ya sure?!" Tetsutetsu raised a literal iron fist. "If anybody's botherin' ya, then I'll kick their-!"
"If anyone was bothering me," Itsuka interrupted with an amused grin, "I'd be the one kicking their butts, so don't worry about it, Tetsutetsu. And it's just that, well, I think this is the first time I've actually been in Room 1-A for more than two or three minutes. Let alone take a seat at one of their desks. It...feels awkward, being in the classroom of the so-called 'trouble class'."
She looked down at the aforementioned desk. "I wonder who this desk's owner is? I sorta feel a bit of heat coming from it, so it's probably Bakugo's, but..." Then, the redhead shook her head. "Ahhh, I'm going off on a tangent already. Better get seated, you two! Iida may be our new class rep, but even so, I'm still your prez!"
Tetsutetsu didn't look too convinced by Itsuka's response. Nevertheless, he nodded curtly and gave the redhead a small, soft smile.
"O-Of course, Kendo! Just remember, gimme a shout-out if ya need help! Everyone needs help, after all, and it wouldn't be manly of me to leave you o-or anyone else in the mud!"
Itsuka nodded back. "Gotcha. Thank you, Tetsutetsu. I really do appreciate your concern. But seriously, everything's just fine!"
Then, she patted Yui's arm, beckoning the stoic girl to follow her. Once the two students found their new assigned desks and sat down on them, Itsuka shifted her gaze towards the front of the classroom as Aizawa began droning and writing something on the board. However, she phased out her new homeroom teacher and instead released a soft exhale as she mulled over what had just happened to her.
"That was weird..." she thought. "I wonder what that was all about. I've never felt that way around Midoriya before. But then again, I think this is the first time we've been in each other's space like that, even if it was just brief..." She patted her chin thoughtfully. "I should be ignoring this feeling, but...something inside of me is telling me to get to the bottom of this, ASAP..."
It didn't take long for the white-haired girl to depart from the well-off section of the local city and enter the slums. Even though it was still morning, the neighborhoods were emptier and definitely not as lively. There were dilapidated buildings as far as the eye could see. But the girl was undaunted by the foreign environment. Instead, she calmly walked up to the front door of one such building, a seemingly abandoned theater, and knocked on it thrice. A few seconds passed before a panel in the door slipped open.
A bestial eye peered through the door-hole and regarded the girl. An eldritch growl accompanied the piercing stare. But then, only a second later, the panel closed, and then the door opened with an eerie creak, allowing the girl to step inside the building. She momentarily looked at the man who let her in, a tall, bulky, half-naked monster of a man with a bear-like face and a body half-covered in bushy brown fur, before glancing towards the darkness that enshrouded the lobby.
"I came as soon as I received the call, Curator," the adolescent said before bowing faithfully. "I do apologize for my lack of punctuality today."
"It's alright, my dear," a voice replied.
A second man stepped out of the darkness, his movements and demeanor so silent that he might've as well materialized from thin air. On the right side of his head, the man sported fair skin; short, messy black hair; and an exhausted, baggy eye. In contrast, the left side of his head was obscured by a gray diving helmet with barnacle-shaped protrusions and a large collar with a lock hanging from the center. The man also wore a plain black suit underneath a light-purple coat with a tall collar that was lined with white fur.
"I understand reconnaissance is a difficult task," the man continued. "And, given the burden that I've placed upon your shoulders, I think I'm willing to give you some leeway."
"I'm glad in your confidence in me, Curator." The girl raised her head and gave her superior a puzzled stare. "Now then, was there any hesitation? Any ambivalence to partake in our proposal?"
"Only uncertainty, just as I predicted. But, given the contraband we sent them and the trouble we had to go through for that to happen, I'm sure they're convinced on how serious we are."
"Good."
Tucking his hands in his pockets, the Curator walked up to the girl, who didn't flinch at all. Instead, she beamed up at the helmet-wearing Villain, standing tall and brimming with expectancy, waiting for whatever he had to say next. Even when the Curator stopped and was towering over her, the girl persistently refused to break eye contact with him. They stared deeply at each other for a brief moment.
Then, the Curator patted her shoulder. "You did well, Sweeper," he said.
The girl smiled determinedly and absorbed the praise. "Thank you, Curator. Anything to see that your goals are realized! Soon, we'll have our revenge!"
"Yes. Yes, indeed." The Curator seemed to relish in the anticipation of seeking vengeance for his wrongs. "In due time. Of course, you must remain patient, Sweeper. The first phase of the plan will require close attention and much coordination. One little misstep is tantamount to the total collapse of our operation."
Sweeper nodded. "Yes, I understand."
"I know you do..." The Curator lifted his hand from Sweeper's shoulder and started walking towards the auditorium. "And speaking of the first phase...let's not keep our guests waiting, shall we? Come, Sweeper. Bearhead, do man the projector. Wait for my signal."
Sweeper nodded, while she heard a soft but vicious growl coming from behind him in response. The bearlike man quickly broke off from the other two, passing through a door next to the concession stand. As for Sweeper and the Curator, they approached the door to the auditorium, and the former vaguely heard voices from inside. The Curator pushed the doors open, revealing an enormous room with dozens of rows of faded-purple seats. However, only three of those seats were occupied.
The Curator started walking forward again, and Sweeper followed right behind him. As the duo continued walking down the long aisle, they heard a trio of voices speaking more clearly.
"Yo, uh, didja guys see any actual food in the concession stand?! I'm starvin'!"
"I swear to God, Kazetani, if you mention food one more time, I am gonna-"
"Jeez, this client had better be frigging worth it, Iwata. My onee-chan caught me sneaking out and I had to come up with a frigging lame excuse so she could let me go."
"Your onee-chan? Heh. And you wonder why we keep calling you 'Gust Boy', Gust Boy."
"For the last time, it's Gust Man!"
Finally, one of the Villains lost his patience and shot up from his seat. He was a towering man with fire-red hair and eyes, ashy-gray skin, and a pinkish face.
"Alright, this waiting and dilly-dallying is pissing me off! If no one comes in to entertain us or somethin', I am just gonna call it a day and burn this whole place down to the ground-!"
"That won't be necessary," the Curator announced abruptly, attracting nine individual stares as he and Sweeper stepped on the stage. "You may settle down now."
"Aaand just who the frigging hell are you?" the redheaded Villain asked with an ominous glare. "Please tell me you're the punk-ass who invited me and my pals over and made us wait for all this time."
He gestured towards the two people sitting beside him: a pale-skinned, scantily-dressed woman with a voluptuous body and pale skin and hair; and a man with elongated fingers and a freakishly elongated head that resembled a hairdryer.
"Indeed I am, Volcano," replied the Curator. "You can call me...the Curator. I believe most, if not all of you have heard of me already." He watched as the Villain's comrades looked at one another in response and started murmuring. "This is my associate Sweeper. My other associate, Bearhead, is setting some things up at the last minute in another room. You'll be meeting him shortly."
However, Volcano remained unimpressed. "About damn time you arrived then, Curator. Listen here, you kept me and my pals waiting in this stinking deathtrap for an extra half-hour..." With that, an immense amount of heat started to radiate from his body, causing the dilapidated seats around him to hiss from the excess temperature. "And we do not take kindly to waiting for someone overtime."
Despite the heat that he could feel even from such a distance, the Curator was left rather undaunted by Volcano's show of power. "We apologize for making you wait, Volcano. I understand that you and your associates have precious time on your hands-"
"Heh, precious time on your hands," Volcano snarled, cutting the half-masked Villain off. "Listen here, your charms can't fool me, half-face. Just get on with why the hell you brought us over here, so that I can fry your ass and be on my merry way."
"Ah, I think this job will be worth your time, Volcano," Sweeper advised. "If you would just sit down and take just a tiny moment to hear us out-"
Volcano's voice grew low and cold. "And what if I don't?"
The Curator immediately stepped in. "Then you will be turning down the payment of a lifetime."
"Ooh, the payment of a lifetime...?" the scantily-dressed woman repeated, her eyes glinting with interest. "I do like the sound of that..."
"It's just a trick, Dusty Ash," growled Volcano.
"Awwwww, come ooon, boss!" the hairdryer-headed exclaimed, digging himself further into his seat. "We haven't gotten a good-paying job in a damn long while! Might as well hear them out!"
"I don't give a damn how much we're gonna get paid! We Volcano Thieves have made our money through jewelry store robberies! We don't offer any services!" Volcano glared daggers into the Curator and Sweeper. "We are NOT gonna work with those that're beneath me, and that's an order!"
"If you're not interested in the money, Volcano," Sweeper replied, "then perhaps I could entice you with something else."
"Something else?" Volcano focused the entirety of his stare upon the adolescent. "Listen, kid...I don't know who the hell you are, which means you do not know a damn thing about me-"
"Your name is Maguma Iwata, alias Volcano. Your Quirk is Eruption, which, according by my observations, allows you to convert your body fat into lava and eject it from your body." Sweeper looked at the pale woman. "You're Konako Haizono, alias Dusty Ash. Your Quirk is Dust, which allows you to produce, well, dust from your body." Ignoring the surprised look that adorned the woman's face, she focused on the hairdryer-headed man. "And you're Tsumuji Kazetani, alias Gust Man. Your Quirk is Fan, which allows you to spin your wrists so fast that you can generate strong winds."
The man beamed in admiration, not at the accurate description of his Quirk, but rather at the name usage.
"And together," Sweeper continued, "you three are the Volcano Thieves, as you were kind enough to bring up a few times already, Iwata-san-"
"SHUT UP!" Maguma barked mightily. He marched up to the stage and aimed his left-hand cannon at Sweeper, who didn't flinch. "Who the hell are you?! How'd you know my real name?!"
Sweeper merely delivered a sweet smile at him. "Oh, it's a matter of public record, Iwata-san. But believe me, I can get more...personal and intimate with what I know about you..."
Volcano's companions looked unsettled by the implication, prompting the Curator to step in.
"Sweeper's spent long nights researching all of the Villains she could find in the news," the Villain explained. "That is why you three are here today, because she believed you would be perfect for the job we are about to assign you."
Maguma frowned nastily as he slightly lowered his cannon. "Oh, hell fucking no. I'm not gonna work with someone who knows too much about me. It's too sketchy-"
"Uhhh, before you formed the Volcano Thieves, Iwata-san," Sweeper interrupted, "you were an independent Villain, and a strong one at that. You burned and terrorized high-end jewelry stores in Chiba and Ibaraki Prefectures for...five years, isn't that correct?"
Maguma slowly redirected his cannon back at Sweeper. "Six years. Guess you don't know everything about me, kid."
The girl started to sweat from the overbearing heat coming from the cannon. However, she held her ground and gave the redheaded Villain a smile that was unsettling in its cockiness.
"But I do know what...or who drove you out of the area, broken, battered...humiliated..."
Maguma impulsively gritted his teeth in seething anger. "Death Arms..."
"You were quiet for a couple of years before you popped up again in Ishikawa Prefecture...a bit of a ways away from your usual playgrounds. And this time...you were working in a group. You never worked in groups before, but now, working in groups is your M.O. Quite a step down for a formidable Villain such as yourself."
"Ah, shut the hell up, lil' bitch. It's good to have all your angles covered, and you can't do that with two damn eyes."
Sweeper casually shrugged. "Perhaps. That's a pretty solid reason." However, her eyes gleamed knowingly. "But...I know the truth, Iwata-san. Death Arms really knocked you down a few pegs. And deep down, you know it too." The adolescent stared deep into Maguma's fiery eyes. "Ah, you know I'm right. I can see that look in your eyes...that burning flame..."
After a brief moment of tense silence, Maguma's face twitched with silent fury, and he finally fired his cannon. A laser of lava went right over Mikumo's head, barely singeing the topmost strands of his purple hair, and struck the curtain above the stage, setting it on fire.
"My flames were unbeatable!" the Villain cried angrily. "Anyone subjected to their wrath would've been reduced to ashes in seconds! But that bastard, that snobbish, arrogant bastard Death Arms, he...he somehow powered through a-and beat me to a frigging PULP! He...He beat my flames! HOW?!" He stomped his foot down with a tremendous boom. "I was the strongest fire user around! I showed everyone that my flames were to be feared and revered! I showed those peasants why they must tremble and bow before fire users!
"And then...one day...this-this stuck-up prick with this know-it-all attitude and-and this stupid raised chin came out of th-the blue a-and his fucking dumb fists, withstood my great flames, and beat me so, so, SOOO fucking bad I had to sit in a wheelchair for months like some old man while his fists and fighting spirit were revered like gospel! Bull-fucking-SHIT!"
"It makes you angry, doesn't it?" Sweeper asked calmly. "Seeing the Hero who humiliated you make it in life while you're dealing with what's left of your dignity...pining for the golden days...maintaining your new reputation as a has-been-"
"I AM NOT A HAS-BEEN!" Maguma roared at the top of his lungs. "I AM A NEW MAN! I AM STRONG AGAIN! IN FACT, I AM STRONGER THAN I WAS ONCE BEFORE! I...I AM THE LEADER OF THE VOLCANO THIEVES! WE ARE FEARED ALL ACROSS THE REGION! WHO THE FUCK GIVES A SHIT IF I WORK ALONE OR IN GROUPS?! THE PEOPLE BOW AND QUIVER AT THE SIGHT OF ME EITHER WAY!"
Sweeper held her ground. "Well then, if you say you're a new man, if you truly believe that you've become stronger since then, why haven't you faced Death Arms? It's been, what, ten years since your defeat? Why haven't you closed that last chapter of your old life and show him how much you have improved since then? Why haven't you chosen to conquer that one embarrassing misstep in your life and truly restore your dignity? Why haven't you burnt and killed Death Arms yet, if you claim to be strong again, Iwata-san...?"
"I-I..." Maguma quickly composed himself and cleared his throat. "I needed to make sure I was ready. For the inevitable confrontation."
"Well, the time is now, Volcano. This job that my colleagues and I are offering you, it'll be carried out within Death Arms' latest jurisdiction. I assure you, he will respond, and you will have the prime opportunity to defeat him. You can avenge yourself of that loss so many years ago. And when we're done, you and your associates will be rewarded handsomely for your efforts. Consider it a little...extra incentive. But, if you turn us down, I don't know if another opportunity as good as this will fall onto your lap ever again-"
"SIGN ME UP!" Maguma stomped his foot down on the dilapidated theater floor, causing it to audibly break underneath his heel. "SIGN ME THE FUCK UP!"
"Well, then," Dusty Ash said, shooting her superior a smirk, "since you've got our leader on board, I guess we've got no other choice but to follow along. I do like the sound of a good payday, anyway."
"What's the job?!" Gust Boy cried enthusiastically. "What's the job?!"
The Curator blinked idly, just as a projector overhead activated itself. From it, a large image was displayed on the giant screen that had lowered itself on the theater stage while the two groups of Villains were conversing. The Volcano Thieves followed the direction of the projector's light and spotted the image in an instant.
"It's a snatch-and-grab," Sweeper replied.
"You are to discreetly observe the grounds of U.A. High School for the people you see in that image," the Curator bluntly continued. "With the intent of isolating and taking one of them."
Volcano looked back at the Curator with intrigue. "And who's the target?"
Sweeper just gave him a devious smirk.
A/N: And that marks the end of the first chapter for this new and exciting fic! I do wonder who the Curator wants taken from U.A. High?! Will we find out who it is?! Only time will tell!
Anyway, what a day for me to be publishing this! I just realized that today is the birthday of none other than Class 1-B's big sis Itsuka Kendo! I must say, that's quite a way to commemorate her, by writing a fic starring her as one of the main characters! But I suppose it was meant to be. Honestly, I quickly became attached to Itsuka the moment I first saw her. The fact that Hori-sensei's own editorial staff were fond of her even before she made her first appearance in the manga really speaks volumes to me. She has the air and attitude of a protagonist perfect for a series like "My Hero Academia", and yet she's been relegated to the role of supporting character. She's not even a student in Class 1-A, which makes her a tertiary supporting character at best (Class 1-A and the League of Villains clearly take a lot more precedence than Class 1-B). I find that unacceptable, which is one of the biggest reasons why she's a protagonist here.
As for why I'm tackling an Izuku/Itsuka shipping, well, you can consult with the opening Author's Note for the full story, in case you missed it.
Well, hope you enjoyed this first chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!